The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
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"For The Love Of Michael" 10 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Michael, don't walk around the house without a shirt.... oh, who is this?"
"Dad, meet my best friend, Dean."
"So, you're the young man we hear about at the dinner table."
"Me?" Dean asks, offering an extended hand.
"Mannerly at that!"
Michael really hated putting the sweaty shirt back on. Bad enough was feeding his arms through it. Dean put his light weight tee shirt on easily, and didn't mind at all pulling Michael's down in the back. In two minutes time, they were on their own, Michael's father on his merry way.
"What's this about a shirt on, in the house."
"I haven't quite figured it out. If I'm walking through the house in my speedo, then it's alright to be shirtless, but with regular clothing...."
As Michael gave his desertation on the subject of fitting apparel, Dean wondered what he looked like in the speedo. Never wearing anything but a light green swimsuit, one resembling a pair of loosefitting boxers, Dean could only speculate with visions of Michael in a speedo.
"Here you go, Masters Dean and Michael."
`Whooa', Dean thought to himself of the skimpy swimwear Raj held on the extension of his arm.
"Okay, so they're not really speedos, but close."
`Very close', he thought some more.
"Whatsamatter? You're looking at it as if it's from Mars!"
"Nothing," Dean held the yellow swimsuit, as if a banana peel.
It wasn't much bigger!
"Hee hee," Michael chuckled, "I bet you've never worn anything European before?"
"European?"
"Sure. Unlike here in the US, Europeans think nothing of wearing something resembling a low, low, low rise-looking swim suit. C'mon. Let's try them on."
"Ooooh-kay," Dean agreed.
At the sound of `low-low-low-rise', Dean could only picture Michael's front, the gap from his navel to the stopping place, the swimsuit riding the ridge of the stump of his cock.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing."
"Oh, I get it. You want your privacy."
"No. I mean.... it doesn't matter."
"It's no different than the lockerroom. It's not like I haven't seen... I mean haven't looked at.. I mean..."
By the look on Dean's face, Michael could tell the unfairness of him already viewing Dean's crotch, but not from point blank range.
"You spied on me?"
"Spy?"
"Sure. We go in pairs, into the showers. It's always Juan and me."
It's prolly one of the few times in Michael's life he felt hot around the face. He knew he was blushing. He figured only one way out. To be honest about it.
"Yeah. Sorry."
"For what?"
The question was meant to lead.
In a frustrated mood, Michael spilled, "This is how it goes. I found myself alone, leaving the shower. John Giddins, my shower partner already left. I stayed behind, looking from between the walls of one of the stalls. Dean starts laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"So, it was `your' legs Juan and I saw."
"You knew?"
"Not exactly. We knew it was one of the guys."
"Oh. Yeah. Right."
"So, now that I know. Did you like what you saw?"
"All I got a glimpse of is a pair of asses."
"We know. I mean, I know. The reason we stayed, focused on facing the wall!"
"Damn! You don't know how many times I wished you would turn around, too."
"Only me?"
All the time they chatted, their bodies drew closer, focusing on what each other said. Or it could have been the magnetism of their words.
"Don't get me wrong. I like Juan and all, but..."
Snagged in another round of wording!
"But you... like me more?"
With a pathetic smirk on his face, Michael thought things progressed up to moment.
Placing his hands on Dean's upper shoulders, he tenderly said, "I more than..." he gulped, "like you."
Dean froze. Michael stepped forward. His grip on Dean's shoulders was like an eagle's clutch. He wanted to do something and the grip ensured he wanted Dean as a part of it. It's at least one thing he didn't regreat, as they entered the cabana at poolside, taking off their shirts. He's thought of this happening, but at the time he fell into a reverie over it, his dream pictured them fully dressed. When their bodies touched, stomach to stomach and chest to chest, each stepped back a half inch.
"Wow! I think I got a shock from you," Dean mentions, upon kissing his first man.
"Yeah. Me too," Michael reckoned.
With the first shock of them touching each other's bare skin over with, the two stepped over the border of no return. For the first time, Dean raised his hands, to place them around another guy. Sure, when he was younger, he hugged his dad or younger brother, but it wasn't like the electricity he was feeling now. For the first time, Dean touched the bare sides of another man, reaching between Michael's arms and sides. Being brave, he ventured around Michael's sides, to his back. He slid his hands up, over Michael's shoulder blades, then down. The sense of touch became almost ecstatic as the emotional feelings. By this time, Michael had followed his own intuition. Their bodies pressed together. As arms encircled each other, they became one solid form. Last connection were lips pressing against lips.
Dean remembers hearing himself go, "mmmmm," as if taking something sweet for the first time.
"Mmmm..." then breaking, Michael comments, "sweet. Real sweet!"
"Me too."
Thinking it would the shyest moment, the most tense, Dean didn't think of it, but followed through without thought, of lining his lips up with Michael's.
"Oh, for the love of Michael, will you two just get on with it?"
Still clutching each other, the two heads turn to see Raj, standing there in one of the banana peel speedos, dictating to the pair, in a flamboyant manner. Acting it out, he suppressed his true masculine identity..
"You're swimming with us?"
"Your father insists on a lifeguard. Besides, he wants me to keep an on you two, as he puts it, `explores your homosexuality'."
"That's father," Michael answers back.
"Well, you two going to get in your suits or do I have to transform into `the suit'n'tie guy'?"
"Nooo," the two yell.
As they change, Dean's mind is more than on Michael.
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2B continued...
Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.