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" 12 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Again, the sixteen year old's chaperone appeared, lifting himself out of the indoor pool.
"Y'know I have better things to do than swim around like a fish?"
There Raj stood, like before. Something in his front pouch stretched the fabric, leaving it pointy.
Dean ventured to joke, "I think you need something taken care of?"
It wasn't in Dean's poise, to present such a topic for discussion. However, over the past half hour, he learned a lot about the casual presence of the two guys before him. Maybe the phrase, `taken care of' was borrowed from a porn story he read, but it drew the perfect reactions.
"He's right, Raj."
"Unless I'm mistaken," Raj inferred, "I'm more versatile. How about your feelings on the subject, Dean?"
Still with a bit of holding back, Dean wasn't sure about where Raj was going with all of this. For sure, as Raj handled his own meat through the creases of his speedo, Dean wasn't totally sure whom Raj meant to be the `suckee'. Since the subject was out in the open, Dean figured he would open up, too.
"Have you ever... um..."
"No," Raj butted in, "Mikey here hasn't yet," meaning sucked cock.
"Don't call me Mikey, Raji!"
The diversion didn't lessen the thought.
"But what if your father happens to come in here?"
In answer to Dean, Raj replies, "In here?"
Michael finishes off, "Father in here? It's like ninety degrees."
"He only came in here once," Raj explained.
"Twice," Michael corrected. "Once, when the thermostat was broken."
"I stand corrected then. Twice." In more of the flamboyant manner, Raj states, "the other time with the phone."
"Yeah, but he didn't stay long."
Raj went on to explain, "Not with it being like ninety in here."
Things were cool, but they had strayed from the subject. Since Dean felt it sane for Raj to feel his own meat, through the fabric of the yellow speedo, Dean's own hand migrated from his hip, to thigh, finally on his own cock. Raj finally noticed.
"Hell yeah. He's got his salami all hard up for you, Mikey!"
This time one thing took precedent over the other. `Mikey' ran by Michael, faster than a freight train, his attention geared to the hardening artery between Dean's legs. Even though spent, Michael licked his lips. Soon his hand was on his teen cock, revving it up for another blasting.
"C'mon Mikey. I know you want it."
As Raj coaxed the sixteen year old, he glanced to the side of the pool area, beyond the clear pane of glass, separating the mist-laden room from the dry hallway.
"Michael doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to," Dean told Raj.
"I know, but Mikey wants it, don't you Mikey?"
Then as if the trio played casually as this before, Michael reached out, taking a step of chance. Reaching forwards, he touched Dean's privates, cupping his hands under Dean's teen orbs.
"Full, huh?" Raj asked. "Ready for the taking."
It was comical, how Michael led Dean back into the cabana, literally `by the balls'.
"I can't believe it. You're going to actually... suck me off, Michael?"
"If you want it."
Not merely a wanting desire, Dean's heart skipped some beats, thinking of one of the hottest guys on the swim team, giving him a blow job.
"No, you don't have to do this, Michael."
"Why? Are you going to go back to Jim Hart and tell him?"
"How did you.... no, I'm not! Yeah, at first I was game to the pressure he put on me, but I didn't think it would turn out like this."
"Like what?" Michael prodded, maybe knowing the outcome.
"We would wind up caring for each other. You do care for me Michael, don't you?"
"Of course. I've liked you since I saw you that first day at the pool. And now, I more than like you."
"Oh brother," Raj said to himself.
Standing in the distance, watching the door, he knew he was in for a long wait, looking into the cabana. The two of them were at it again, kissing!
"Hey, Dean," Raj called out, deliberately trying to break them up.
"What?"
His plan succeeded.
"Whatsamatter, Raj? Feel left out?"
Purposefully, Michael was getting even, his belly smack up against Dean's, his body half-embraced.
"Yes and no, but I thought maybe Dean might need help with his problem."
"What problem?" Dean questioned Raj.
"The one Mikey talked to me about last night."
He let the nickname stick, tired of bawling Raj out.
"You told Raj about you and I, Michael?"
"Buddy talk. You know, guy-to-guy?" Michael replied.
Dean had to toss things around for a moment, outweigh what he said, supposedly in confidence. Then again, he didn't think of Raj as a breach in keeping a secret.
"Hey look, if Mikey said anything he wasn't supposed to say, you have me to blame for it."
"I can fight my own battles, Raj."
"Well ex-'cu'-se me!"
Raj came back at Michael's statements, comically. It even made Dean giggle. It also made Raj run away and dive into the pool. Slowly the two followed him, to pool's edge.
"So, what's all this about?"
"First of all, Raj would do anything to protect me, which you've just experienced."
"So I notice."
"Secondly, he was only doing what comes naturally, poking his nose into my business. I haven't been myself lately."
"No? How come?"
As if Dean couldn't guess!
"Well, because I've been thinking about someone special."
"Jim Hart?"
"Now that's plain stoopid!"
"I didn't mean it."
"I hope you didn't."
Standing there, holding Michael's hand he plain well knew the score.
"Um, forgetting something there, boys?"
Raj yelled from the far side of the pool, seeing the nude teens.
"We forgot our bathing suits, Michael!"
"Who cares."
With a leap, Michael jumps into the deep end of the pool, pulling Dean along with him. Before Michael can get his bearings, popping up out of the water, something soggy hits him in the back of the head.
"What tha?"
Dean already guesses the source of the yellow piece of material.
"It's Raj's swimsuit."
"Well he's not getting it back, either." Then Michael yells across the pool, "Wait til I tell father what you started."
"Me? It's you who forced Dean, naked, into the pool."
"I know. But who is father going to believe?"
Underwater, like a shark heading for the bait, Raj dove. Michael tried making a getaway, tossing the suit to Dean. Raj followed whomever had the yellow cloth in their hands. Coming upon Dean, momentarily he thought it was Michael.
"Oh! Sorry `bout that!"
"No problem. Are you always this straightforward with your hands to pool guests?"
"I swear," Raj protested, "I thought you were Mikey!"
Dean, formerly mild-mannered, was starting to feel bold, led on by Raj and Michael. He decided to have a little fun. Soon Michael caught up with the pair, like a sneaky submarine.
"Sure you did."
"I did. Really."
"So you want this back, huh?"
"Would be nice."
"I guess you don't have anything else to walk back to your room in, huh?"
"Exactly."
Raj Subramanian, twenty-six years old, a graduate student with a degree already in psychology, already guessed, two minutes ago, the game Dean played. Yet, he was playing the game as if he knew nothing.
"Then beg for it!"
"Good one, Dean."
Surfacing, Michael took his first dunking.
"Don't want these?"
"Yeah, but first I want to get even."
"Why don't we both get even?"
Michael had sped off, in the opposite direction of the two, far out of conversation.
"Both?" Raj played along.
"Sure. He stuck me with the suit, so you would come to me."
"True. So, what's your plan?"
"You hold him and I'll tickle him?"
"Oh no. I want to tickle him!"
"You had sixteen years to tickle him."
"Not so. I've only been here for two years."
"Why is that?"
"How do you mean it?"
"Why since Michael has been fourteen?"
"Parents sometimes behave like children."
"I know that to be true. Like my dad and brother. First John had to have a train set and now my dad's the big engineer. You should see the spread my dad has."
"So, your brother hardly plays with it I take it?"
"You've got it. I suspect Michael's mom and dad have their little hobbies?"
"Big ones. His dad likes golf and his mom is off every other weekend to some birding event. In between, she's involved in her poetry group."
"Poor Michael."
"What's so poor about me?"
Right now, involved in matters of the heart, the fun was put on hold.
"I was explaining to Dean why you have such an illustrious mentor to look up to."
"Who?"
Raj gave him a smirk, then reached right out in front of Dean and all, giving Michael a nip-tug.
"Owwwwwch! What'd ya do that for?"
Dean brought the pair back into focus, saying, "So Raj, you're something like Michael's playmate?"
"According to his father, someone to look up to', help the boy along'."
"So, you see more of Raj than your dad?"
Caressing a beach ball, keeping him afloat, Michael responds, "Yeah, sick isn't it?"
"I don't think so. I'd love to have an older brother."
"Brother? Yeah right," Michael responded.
Raj pounced on the beachball, making Michael lose his grip, capsizing him. Then he returned his attention to Dean.
"So you two really do get along though?"
"We try."
"Um, don't look now, but Michael's got a noodle."
"Which side?"
"Right. At your knee."
Dean made sure Michael couldn't hear, as he sabotaged his plans. Sure enough, Raj turned quickly, grabbing at the purple noodle.
"Heeeeey!"
Pulling on the noodle, Michael sped through the water. Instead of intercepting him, Raj dove off towards the shallow end of the pool.
"Where are you going, Raj?" Dean called after him.
"Almost pizza time!"
After pointing towards his watch, he hefted himself up on the edge of the pool. Michael and Dean were hoping for a spectacular view, but somewhere in the conversation, Raj had slipped his suit back on.
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Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.