% This work of fiction is set in the format of real-world situations. Identifying details to real people, alive or dead, is entirely coincidental in nature.
% States and countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing adult material'. It is up to you, the reader, to research this subject, abiding by laws and conscience. The pages of this story contain adult material', intended for an `adult audience.' Bypass this warning at your own risk!
% If sexual scenes involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if dude-to-dude sex stuff makes you wanna barf or is gonna screw up your mind, you should not read this story.
% Sexual safety matters. Guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt!
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`GLaDiaToR EV'ry DaY' 18 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Kelly never got around to meet everyone at the informal cocktail-pool party, barbecue, which amounted to Chad and Thomas throwing together some last minute finger-foods.
"I have to say, considering what you've told me about PJ and that he and Buzz have turned up missing," Kelly acts nervous, "should we be worried?"
"I doubt we have anything to worry about. Tell you the truth, what might have been some troubling teenager years, when PJ got to college, things started to work out for him."
Concerned with himself, Kelly says, "well, being the crowd has dwindled down to Willow and Colleen napping at the side of the pool, maybe we can talk about it upstairs?"
Whatever the topic had been, for Kelly, it was bound to be continued, `upstairs'!
Playing on news which had made the gossip rounds, Keran says, "to talk about PJ and Buzz, or our relationship?"
Okay, so he would have confessed to having 2 topic on his mind.
Getting his last digs in, Kelly replies, "whatever you want, Kerry!"
He was too tired to chase Kelly around the pool and less nimble about jumping over Willow and Colleen, piled up on top of each other, having made the pool pavement their bedside retreat.
Instead, he felt comfortable with nudging his cousin with a toe, "hey, Colleen. Time to get yourself up and get going."
In turning to look up, she woke Willow, who looks up too, complaining, "can't a girl get a good night sleep?"
Kelly, upon seeing this, walks back, asking, "what's up?"
Keran says, with a little giggle in his voice, "either they don't remember the way back to their cabin, or choose not to!"
"Cabin?" Kelly questions. "I didn't know we had a cabin. Are there more than one?"
Before Keran could answer, Willow, with those eyes which Kelly could not answer with a `no', "you have a room where we can spend the night, Kell?"
Tit for tat, Keran says, "oh, is it Kell, now?"
"Yeah, right," Kelly wasn't agreeing, nor disagreeing.
Keran was sort of disappointed, Kelly hating the nickname more than he disliked Kerry'. Though, after it leaked out earlier, he found Kerry and Kelly' kind of went together nicely.
Really no time for small talk, Kelly didn't no why, when he wanted to be `upstairs', quizzes, "like, when did you dye your hair blue, Willow?"
Keran, palpitations driving his balls crazy, cuts his `partner' off, "there's another room upstairs," he takes Kelly by the arm, like a policeman making an arrest. "If you lose your way, ask the butler where it is."
"What butler?" Kelly questions Keran along their hasty way.
"Butler, house manager, whatever Jackson is called."
"There's no Jackson. I mean, Kenny didn't think he would make a good house manager, so he's taking him over to the factory in the morning, to see if he can find a place for him."
While they climbed stairs, Keran put it to him, "I don't see why I can't double up on duties?"
Almost to the top landing, Kelly, having gone first, swings around, "well, considering you're about to become a house-husband, I might as well break you in right?!"
Right response, Keran says, "are you meaning chores about the house," he physically turns Kelly towards the top step, "or the bedroom in particular?"
From late afternoon into evening, it had been on Keran's mind, whether to dress with the toweled waist look, go with briefs, or naked. The towel kept on loosening up, so if there were any gazers, they could have an eyeful. However, uncanny about whether he wanted to go all the way, nude, or partial coverup, traditional values kicked in and he chose boxers.
Thing is, when they get to the bedroom, Kelly does take notice, "um, those weren't the boxer shorts you put on this morning, were they?"
Keran had a tale to tell, "uh, you didn't happen to notice Chad helping Thomas look around for his boxer shorts, did you?"
The question was the answer, Kelly saying, "well, I have to admit," he steps up to his lover and thumbs the elastic sides, "Thomas does have good tastes!"
Regardless, a better taste was in kissing Keran's lips!
Not which he wouldn't have used his lips, but hands better at stripping out of boxer briefs, since all ten digits were busy planing over Kelly's bod, Keran's little wiggle and toes acting like fingers, helped to drop the boxers down to his ankles.
Kelly, with not as broad hips as his lover, chose a tucked in towel, which was easier to free up.
Being Kelly's back was to the bed, it took little effort to back him up, Keran gently laying him down, "alone at last!"
Other than his brother, there wasn't any guy Kelly had been with long enough, to be nurtured in the fine art of seduction and what follows.
Lying on his back, Keran having dropped his junk down onto him, Kelly had to take a breather, "sorry, but I'm really not too experienced at all this."
Doing a pushup of sorts, Keran's palms embedded in the mattress, he smiles, says, "how's about I lead and you follow?"
All the other times they had tried to kindle the fire, only to have business interrupt pleasure, Kelly had assumed it the way it went, "I think I can go for more of that."
The `that', was Keran's tongue wondering about, but nothing like what was happening now. Conjuring up some muscle power Kelly never knew he had, he was physically lifted from the bed and went airborne for a few seconds, till his head touches the pillow.
When his head did connect, Keran wasn't hovering over, face to face, "hey, where'd you go?"
Reaching an arm up, placing a fingertip over Kelly's lips, Keran's eyes were already on target, saying, "less talk, please."
Talk, not, but when Kelly felt warmness and wetness suddenly envelope his semi-erect shaft, he couldn't help but illicit, unintelligible sounds!
Much as Keran had it in mind, from about the pool to mid-stairway, he painted a picture of having Kelly on the bed, climbing on board, grabbing him by the legs and raking him in, onto the tip of his own shaft, when he found something holding Kelly back, he figured it not the way to go. Instead, he took the gentler way.
"Ooh, that feels nice," Kelly says.
Keran knew he said `no talk,' but appreciated it, any time a bottom-boy complimented him on blowjob skills. One of his pet-peeves, whatever role he assumed, he liked compliments!
"Um, like," Kelly says in a nervous manner, "I'm like, feeling a draft?"
For Keran, this wasn't working. Used to commandeering a situation, he puts a hand, the one not around Kelly's cock, and pushes his raised shoulder back into the bed, "take it easy. Relax."
That slight inflection of Adrian's giggle, Kelly's shoulders flex back to the bed, "okay."
He doesn't know what he was afraid of, Kelly thinking back to his one and only true sexual mate, his brother. Jared was really gentle with him, much like Keran was treating him now. Perhaps the foreplay was different and longer, his brother stopping in to find out how he was mending from the horrific parental rendering of the strap, but with it came a very gentle side of Jared he had not witnessed.
In comparison, Keran wasn't any different, which indeed, past experience play a part in Kelly finding a relaxed edge.
He reconnects with some other thing happening between him and his bro. Quite by accident, when reaching down between them, aiming for his brother's shaft, his thumb had tweaked Jared's nip. That led to an awakening the brothers both share in the discovery. From then on, whenever the bro got together to mingle, Kelly knew what really got Jared's cock ticking, both hands at his chest, fingers working his meaty nips!
Lying there, with Keran sweetly making love to his cock, and nothing for him to do, but lie back and enjoy, Kelly remembers how he kept his brother `hard'. Daringly, he lifted his shoulders, till his hands could reach and with one swift bend forward, he latched on.
"Ooh-h-h-h-shit!"
Yeah, if Keran's cock had any length left to grow, this did the trick. However, it certainly made his balls tighten up!
Not only that, the counter weight of Kelly, falling back with head into the pillow. Fingers tightly knotted against nips, was enough to make Keran fall forward. And what a fall, from mouth opening wide to exclaim erotic joy, his bod launches forward in uncontrollable movement.
A cub, crashing onto a otter-like frame, it had Keran doing that pushup again, "geez, I hope I didn't break anything, Kell?"
There it was again, only a slip of the mind and not on purpose. Though, Kelly was deliberate, "no problem, `Kerry'!"
It then dawns on Keran, "I did say Kell, didn't I?"
"You did. But can we bring that subject up later?"
All for that, Keran did do a check, to make sure, if anything, Kelly's pubes were okay, but when lifting himself off, "yep. Still hard!"
"Well," Kelly watches Keran hovers over, "it's not gonna erupt by looking at it?"
Big enough hint, not which needed one, he slouches down on the bed and reconnects lips to the lip of Kelly's shaft, sliding down, gulping...
In turn, Kelly once again relaxes his head into the pillow. This time he forgot about tweaking nips, instead using his hands to mash the pillow under his head to bits, taking some of the blow of the job Keran was doing on his shaft.
Two minutes later he was announcing, "not gonna take much more of that."
Predicament for Keran, he was hoping Kelly took notice of his own shaft, hard and right there at the entrance to the oven!
Kind of a sign, when the other dude, the one with his head planted in the pillow, does, or doesn't, make an effort to at least give clue to how this is going to go, Keran is slowly giving up the idea that the oven door is going to open up, receive.
Madly, deeply in love, these are things ciphering through his mind. It doesn't much thinking, rather a gut feeling which adds to the sex drive, which gets Keran to thinking, `what is, is.'
Opposing reaction, Kelly is about to give up on facts as they stand. Whereas he and Jared had gotten on, two willful souls finding comfort and joy in each other, his older brother, who seemed to be the guru of gay sex, had it drilled into his younger brother's head, the apex of a relationship, was sealed by one claiming the other...in other words, to fuck or not to fuck. That was the thing running with Kelly right now.
There was hesitation, which almost had him ready to prop himself up on both elbows, but the minute he opened his eyes, Kelly closes them, upon a touchy-feely sensation, "oh yeah...that's what I want!"
It occur, for 2-short-seconds, what he wanted, but there was a want which super-ceded all wants, wanting to seal the bonds of relationship, Keran dropping his jackknifed ass over Kelly's pubes, a hand to guide the piercing sword to its target.
Unlike he thought a man's piercing shaft would feel, Keran decides it as `not so bad', rather an elating feeling, to have what was once upon his tongue, sliding effortless within the confines of his ass-opening, "oh-h-h-h-oh!"
Then, like the machine which weaves the tartan look of a kilt, making it into a work of art, their bods start moving in motion, developing a sweet rhythm.
Whereas, in past efforts, a knock at the door would stop everything, both Kelly and Keran respond together, "go away!"
Little did either realize, thoughts of Willow and Colleen rapping on their door, not being to find their way, was of the least concern.
More, it had been on Doc Watson's mind to check up on Kelly, with issues of Jared's vacation in Ireland, with Callum, Kenny's cancer and then...well, with the noise and carrying on going on, on the other side of the door, looked to Sam that nature was taking its course!
Then, with the rude answer to his knock, `go away!', well Sam wasn't much bothered by that. It got him to thinking, about his own life, professionally and relationship-minded. Having a good feeling about Kelly, each footstep down the stairway was in dance fashion.
From his cell call with Jared, he had heard of Kenny's cancer, but as of yet, was trying to figure out a way to approach him, without having to confess it was Jared who told him!
Then, with the vacation to Ireland, with Callum, well Sam had a feeling Kelly wasn't going to be very lonely with him gone, which touching bottom on that last step, "I guess that kills two birds with one stone," he dusts the responsibility from both hands.
Hardly anyone used the front door, Sam proceeding through the kitchen, to out back. Entering, he had to swing around the kitchen island, which put him smack dab in an awkward situation with Chad and Thomas!
"Oh, pardon me. I didn't see," he waves a hand to point out all the hanging pots and pans, "with all this in my way."
No doubt the two were totally embarrassed. When surprised by Sam, Thomas had led the way from un-pancaking himself from leaning against Chad. From right out, anyone could tell they were in the buff. For a gay man to a gay man, that wouldn't a terribly tough issue to face.
What could be, is how Sam found them, "well, I have to admit, I've never eaten `that' kind of a banana split before!" In total control, in session, Sam was way too nervous, and probably it showed, "banana split...get it?"
Too drunk to act rationally, Chad scoops some sloppy, half-melted ice cream off Thomas' hard shaft, "uh, want some Rocky Road, Sam?"
Laughing hardily, Thomas holds his melty 8.5c on the palm of his hand, "free samples!"
Not which he himself had touched liquor, but the situation certainly had made him intoxicated, "well, I guess I could take a little sample."
In the big city, when practicing at his trade, psychological evaluations, Sam would dress in professional attire, suit, pastel shirt, matching necktie. Out here in the sticks, where meeting on the side of a trail would compensate for four walls of an office, dressed down to khaki, short-sleeved shirt and matching short pants, would give anyone the impression of the relaxed state of the job.
"Oh," Chad states, as Sam walks to them, "we can't go getting your business attire all dirty now, can we?"
However, having hit the bottle more times than they could remember, it was a huge task to help Sam out of his clothing, without getting Rocky Road, chocolate syrup, nor juice from the maraschino cherries from soiling up Sam.
Sam, he didn't seem to care either way. He had plenty of outfits back at his cabin/office. Clothes were not of concern, not with Chad slowly working the buttons of his shirt, being careful not to leave any remnants on his chest...tongue taking care of that little detail.
Then, like an ice cream sandwich, Thomas moves around to the rear. Reaching arms around Sam's waist, they get busy at the task of undoing his belt!
"Oh my! You chefs really know how to serve up the dessert!"
After slurping his tongue, clear up from Thomas' busy hands, following the belly-trail to smooth pecs, Chad stops, tilts his head, saying, "hmm, you sorta taste like vanilla!"
Finishing Chad's task, which at Sam's back is hardly what one could call `work', sliding the open shirt off of the shoulders, Thomas says, "mm, yeah," he licks Sam from the back up to an ear, "not enough chocolate sauce!"
No one could be more surprised than Sam, Thomas taking over, backing him up to the kitchen island.
While Thomas goes over to gather up chocolate sauce, `real' whip cream, bowl from the fridge, and sloppy containers of softening ice cream, Chad works from the other point of view.
"Mm, can't wait to see how ripe your banana is, Sam!"
From both, laughing, carrying on, Sam could tell the two had downed some serious alcohol. However, other than the big pots and pans ready to bop him in the head, everything was...good!
In session, Sam was always on the ball, ready to respond to any situation. Matters such as this, he was lost for words, other than, "I can't wait to see yours!"
Nervous laughter from Sam, wanton giggling and laughing on behalf of Chad and Thomas, it was easier to decode how they came to be that way. Even though Sam hadn't touched the bottle, he could attribute his happy hour, fueled by emotional response to probing fingers...and tongue!
"What'll it be first?" Thomas holds a bowl, supported by his right hand, a spoon of chocolate in his left."
Sloppily Chad had begun to unfasten Sam's shorts, but left it unzipped, but tethered to his hips.
"You're supposed to start with ice cream," Chad instructs.
"Oh. Right," Thomas says. "Here. Hold this."
Chad exclaims, "oh my god, Tom!"
Sam, even though not touching a drop, felt like under the influence, but more of a slapstick comic routine, watching the chocolate sauce, the open top of the bowl against Chad's chest, almost the whole bowl streaming from the middle of his pecs, flooding down!
"Sorry `bout that," he wasn't, anyone telling by the sound of Thomas' laughter!
If that wasn't the worst thing for Chad, when Thomas returns with a fresh carton, what looked to be a vanilla-chocolate mix, he states, "oh Chad, can't you do anything right?"
Chad, for want of a place to put the bowl of chocolate, the remnants, had pawned it off to Sam.
"Here, hold this!"
"Oh no, not going for that one again!"
All Thomas wanted to do is free up his own hands, so he could finish the job Chad had started, stripping Sam down to the banana!
"I can't believe you did that!"
Shoving the carton into Chad's breadbasket, with the other chef disowning it, the carton drops down, bouncing off his outstretched cock.
Cupping up his pubes in a hand, Chad whines, "you don't even care about it bouncing off my balls, Tommy?"
Sam was wondering if he heard right the first time, "I thought it was `Tom'?"
"Oh," Thomas purrs like a cat, working a hand in, around Chad's shaft, "did I hurt something there?"
It seemed for a moment there, the two breaking off on the slapstick comedy routine, changing to a love routine, Sam being left out, "well guys, I guess I'll..."
"Whatsamatter with you," Thomas, with sudden breaking off, fake-slaps Chad up the side of the chest, "ignoring our guest?"
"Oh," Sam says, "I thought the ice cream social was over?"
Glad that it wasn't!
"Go get some cherries," Thomas jokes, "while I get some for myself!"
Sam could tell the two, far beyond being serious, but certainly moved over Thomas taking the initiative to finish what Chad's hands had started.
"Um, you guys do stuff like this all the time?" he looked down, watching Thomas slowly work the strip, like a porn movie unfolding.
"We just met, but Chad, he and I, we seem to like the same stuff."
"Oh."
Sam was genuinely lost for words.
Returning, Chad didn't take chances on dropping anything, or pawning them off onto some dude's chest, hauling everything over on wheels.
Like he was trying to a salesman, "look what I found...more chocolate sauce, sprinkles...you like sprinkles, Sam?"
He liked bananas more, but, "I love sprinkles. Doesn't every man?"
Getting into the swing of things, alcohol didn't fuel his laughter, but the very idea of mixing food and sex, it was something he had yet to write in his history book!
"Not me," Thomas says, having left Sam's pants at his ankles, "I'm more into the banana!"
Chad watches, as if it were the first time viewing, Sam along for the ride, Thomas assembling the tasty dessert treat.
"First we start with the banana," he turns to Chad, "dish?"
Instead of handing it over, Chad takes the dish, and cupping it under the burden of Thomas, heavy balls, "I've got it Tommy."
It was like love-making all over again, Sam witness to the two of them, more like two kids and not full grown, mature, male adults.
"Well, get it right this time?"
Sam knew he missed something, didn't know what it was, but by Chad's answering Thomas, "or you're gonna do what, Tommy?"
Again, something secretive going their way, "just know...you'll be sorry!"
"Hmm," Chad replies, picking up the ice cream scooper.
Not which it wasn't making him horny as all hell, Sam, who couldn't tell where this was coming from, blurts out, "what about me, guys?"
Sliding his cock out of the dish, Thomas barks, "hey yeah, where's your manners, boy?"
"Oh, I know that game," Sam was wise to what was happening here.
"Really?" Chad says, like someone switched a light on.
His own take on Sam's revelation, Thomas says, "then you'll have no problem with seeing how much our boy here likes his banana split."
Sam did wonder, our boy?' Being a shrink, he knew all the ins and outs of special hobbies' men liked. Often times he has wished he had involved himself, but had his professional reputation to reflect back on.
Leaving it up to the others, Sam says, "so, how does this all go?"
"Um, guys," Sam says in a worried tone, as they have him lie, eagle-spread, stretched out position on the kitchen island, "I feel," he swallows, "a little intimidated by all those," he moves his hands like doing magic, "pots and pans and that nasty looking fork, hanging above me?"
Thomas reaches over, grabbing the sharp-tined fork from hanging on a hook, "hmm, how did that get there?"
"In the wrong again, sire," Chad smirks at Thomas.
"Well," Thomas says, "get at the other end."
Allowing the fork incident slide, it was too many pots and pans to remove from the rack, but not a big deal to ferry Sam out from underneath.
"Oh, here, catch!" Thomas says, having reached underneath the table and grabbed a handful of linens.
Holding one of the aprons up, Chad says, "but I want to get dirty!"
Sam was a little worried, Thomas saying, "well, you're not the only boy who's gonna get what's coming to him!"
A little nervous, but not so much, Sam was confident enough no rough play would ensue, "I hope you guys aren't into shish kebab?"
Chad ties a wrist.
Thomas an ankle, "hmm, now there's something we haven't thought about?!"
"Yikes!" Sam exclaims, not so sure about all this, not with right wrist tethered by apron strings, to one corner of the table, left ankle, the same.
The chefs then went to work, making a culinary masterpiece of Sam's bod. And, as they did it, they made sure all the sensitive places were done up in the most ornate fashion.
Pecs were exquisite, piled high with mounds of whipped cream, topped off with a cherry adorning each nip.
While Chad handled the top half of Sam's bod, Thomas lent his expertise to redesigning the lower portion.
"Oh," Thomas stopped, in between working some banana segments in between and under Sam's balls, "you're in charge of his navel."
Sam, who knew without watching, the tingling sensations of cock balls alerting him, adds some humor, "uh, I hope it's okay I add a little cream of my own?"
In no time, used to working up masterpieces in hardly any time at all, Thomas stood there, leaning on Chad's shoulder, admiring their work.
"I think we did a decent job. What do you think?"
"Y'know," Chad giggles, "it's said, it's not the work you put into something, but what you get out of it?"
It was like a cue, both men acting like animals. Imagine, two grown men, tops in their field, lowering themselves to fight over a cherry, or who was going to get the last licks over cleaning chocolate sauce off a raging hard-on?
Sam, it was like no-other-sex he has ever had. He had known about the `food fetish' thing, from experience, a client having brought a bag of strawberries to a therapy session to munch on. Much to Sam's amazement, food could make a man's bod sweeter. Used as his client's therapy tool, allowing his shirt to be opened like a can opener, it exposed his hairy navel. Not which he was a partaker of a strawberry stuffed into his deep innie, but sweet when the berry-eater claimed Sam's navel tasted oh-so-sweet!
"Oh man, guys," Sam was more than in awe of how things were going.
Because of the ingredients, distinct colors, viscosity, both men looked a total mess, like someone had taken brushes and painted their bods.
"I think I'm ready for a dip," Thomas says.
"Me too," Chad agrees.
What neither or them, rushing off to the pool could think of, Sam not being able to follow.
"Guys?" Sam questions the lonely silence.
A flashback of thoughts, from another client of his, doctor to patient word to the wise, Sam has at times recommended some safeguards, when a man, intent on choosing his path into the realm of bdsm, was alerting another person where they were going to be, a phone number, time they would be calling. People had to be careful these days, especially where strangers from social media were engaged. Even though this was a different situation, Sam had neglected to figure out just how he was to be released from bondage, even though among friends.
Instead of dillydallying around, he went to work, trying to loosen his wrists. Not which he didn't doubt he could finally work his way out of the loosely fitted apron straps, with the possibility of ripping them right off the corners of the table, but also was thinking how terrible a bondage-man Thomas would make. More to his advantage and relief, Sam was able to sit up and go to work on the ankle restraints.
In doing so, he came across a revelation, "oh my," he stare point blank at the thrill he didn't realize he was getting out of all of this!
Literally in his face, as Sam bent almost in two, to reach the apron straps keeping his legs put, the tip of his shaft, fully stretched by feelings and emotions, had put it at the underside of his chin. Backing off, instead of fear he wasn't going to be able to bust out of his bindings, Sam retreated to placing hands behind him on the table and surveying the situation, was now giggling.
"I guess I didn't know I was enjoying it this much!"
A couple of years ago, a young client, college boy, had asked him point blank, have you ever sucked your own cock?' Well, right now he was faced with that question, no,' he hadn't sucked his own cock. However, after the thought, perhaps now, with more time on his hands, than of pressing business, he takes the plunge. Only, he wasn't at the correct angle. What he found though, sometimes what seems like a dire constraint on situations, can offer help!
He found, leaning back a little, heaving forward, the momentum could drive his chest ahead more.
"Almost," he took it on as a selective task as if a life-threatening peril, "I can do this!"
He definitely realizes, bound ankles provided the leverage for throwing his upper bod forward and, with the help of both hands cupped under the weight of his balls, was able to pair cock up with his lips.
It took a couple of tries, before his back could curve enough to reach, but the 35-year old doc was still limber enough to cave in those ribs, stretch and by will and fortitude, closed his lips up enough to engage.
Strange thing here, even though Sam did get an initial delight out of his lips closing over the head of his shaft, it didn't provide a lasting thrill, "is that it?"
When he flung himself back, instead of releasing the underside of his cock, he slid hands right up, over the erection, all the way up abs, chest and in finality, lay back down, arms back overhead, as they were in bondage.
Thinking, like one of those things, if a guy doesn't try it, he'll never know, "I guess that's that!"
As before, except his cock and balls lying down on the table, Sam reaches over and begins to unfasten his leg bindings.
"Well, what in the hell have you gotten yourself into?"
About ready to allow one leg to go free, Sam freezes in place, hands doing likewise. A picture of a man remain in his mind, like he had just taken the photograph, which has him exclaiming, "Scott! You're back!"
He was dressed in business attire which, for a job as heading over to a stockyard to survey the pickings of farm animals, he was dressed in his usual, cowboy hat, plaid shirt, open down to the third button, jeans and boots.
"Someone said they had seen you come this way. I see you've been into some deep psychotherapy!"
Leaving a satchel on the side, Scott walks around the table, Sam claiming, "I can explain everything."
Even though Scott smell like he worked in a barn all day long, Sam thought it sexy, coupled with the whole `cowboy' persona, complete with the alluring open shirt, sweated fur from side to side. Though, he had a sense of complacency about himself...them both, that he wasn't in any real fear of what they had started, was about to break up.
"Explain?" Scott's serious demeanor took on a smile. Placing both hands on Sam's ankles, "I wondered if you could get into this?"
Somehow, much as he had wanted to loosen the apron strings around his ankles, with Scott's fingers outlining the knots, he says in anticipation, "really?"
"They seem a little tight though, which is not good."
Little did Sam know, Scott was stirring this up, making it out to more than it was, to his own advantage.
"It's not? Of course not. That's why I was trying to wiggle it loose."
"Here, let me help you."
"Thanks," Sam replies.
Uncoupling one ankle, Sam just stare at Scott. Then, with a little nervousness, "so, how was your trip?"
"Fine," he kept talking about sheep and goats. For Scott, it was a good distraction. While one hand kept busy with the apron knot, not a tough untie, his other made haste to unbuckle, unbutton, zip down!
In no time the conversation had changed off topic, Scott grabbing Sam's free legs, dragging his butt to the edge of the table.
"Whoaaaaa!" Sam gasps, his back falling to the table surface. "What are you doing?"
It was apparent. What else is a man about to do, when raising legs up on his shoulders?
"I was thinking about more than cows and bulls at the farm show!"
It had been an uncertainty with Sam, since he had not known Scott that long, though they certainly seemed to like each other very much, that he would go off and not be true to what they had started off having.
"Um, you thought of me?"
Sam's heels lean up against Scott's shoulders, while his hands play with tearing open a little foil packet, "only `all of the time'!"
"Then, I suppose you missed me?"
With legs propped against his chest, heels at the top of the shoulders, Scott reaches around to Sam's hips, "more than you know!"
After that, Sam didn't need to ask anymore questions, just hang in there and go for the ride!
The table didn't do it for Scott. It was too high. Surely, it started off okay, but after lowering Sam's leg to where they were at his own hips, it was necessary to depart from using it altogether. He got a bigger thrill, pulling Sam up, off the edge, making him slip off, fall right onto him...
"Oh fuckin' yeah!"
Opposite opinion, of total pleasuring, Sam is in pain, "oh-h-h shit!"
Not without mercy, Scott questions, "too much for you, cowboy?"
When a person is totally into another, nothing becomes too much, "of course..." Sam inhales, exhales, "not."
Eventually, from the sink counter, to back against the fridge, most likely all the content had toppled over inside, before Scott's inner massage had taken Sam to the floor.
Not only into his own pleasuring, which the tight fit did guarantee, after he had Sam over on all fours, Scott did see fit that not only himself would be shooting his load, but hand around the waist would get his partner off as well.
So much into themselves, they hadn't even noticed the two toweled waists and the slightly banging screen door. Fortunately, having not been tied to the table, the horny scene, which fueled their own fire, had Chad on the floor, butting heads with Sam.
Noticing the sudden intrusion, not unwanted, Sam says, "I thought `he'," meaning Thomas, "was the bottom!"
Not into debates at the moment, Chad says, "talk later."
Sam didn't have to be reminded that he was about to shoot his load. Though, with the appearance of another couple, replicating their exact sexual prowess, Scott did seem to put the brakes on!
For the `tops', it seemed to be a contest, but for him and Chad, Sam found another outlet, kissing. He never thought it could be for him, getting it on with one man, with another waiting in the wings and even though it hadn't been himself initiating it, he responded to Chad's sweet lip locking!
Much to his amazement, even though Scott had just sworn an allegiance of love, he allowed his cock to slide out, swipe by himself and past Chad, with mockery, "I'm comin' for you now!"
It seemed like a fight, man to man acting like two kings of the jungle, lion to lion, Thomas sliding out to take on his adversary.
Too, whereas Scott was taking on Thomas, Sam's thoughts of Chad the big picture had him painted as a mighty warrior. However, as with himself, Sam was bonked, when Chad turns his ass to him, stating, "do me."
"Do you?" Sam questions. Like, he was all into Scott doing him, but throughout his career, he's come across some patient stories which could really throw a person's mind into delirium, "sure. I guess I'll do you."
Only, without clothing, he didn't have... "uh, Scott, can you toss me..."
Seems Scott was keeping tabs on the situation, plus a side of him which Sam didn't realize he had.
"Got it," Scott pulled out another shiny metal packet.
In the dizziness of built up testosterone levels, Sam would never have guessed, a man keeping his cool.
Like he had a plan, Scott says, "this is gonna be so fuckin' hot," as he tears the packet open with his teeth, touching it to the tip of Sam's shaft and then, with meaning which escapes him, "this is gonna be so hot fuckin' you guys!"
Finishing off the application of the rubber over his hard shaft, Sam receives a slap on the butt and as Scott is kissing him, slowly he turns around, back on all fours.
"Nah, you're in front of me," Scott says to Thomas, like it's a challenge.
With only what seems to be going on between him and Scott, Thomas says, "next time I'm man on top!"
Confused, Scott thought it was going to be Scott pounding Thomas' ass, him doing Chad, but as it works out, "you want me to do...Thomas?"
Actions spoke louder than words, that slap on the butt not for nothing. This time it wasn't sliding onto Scott's pole, but different than falling off a table. From their first time together, which amounted to mutually jerking off, Sam had taken an eyeball account of Scott's `size'. He wasn't that long, but a nice size around, able to plug a hole in one. On all accounts, if the other way around, Sam's hard shaft could definitely work its way inside, further up the canal. Of Thomas, Sam was glad Scott had chosen to be behind him.
Thomas would have let it go, if it were just one behind him, but Sam plugging his hole, "you owe me one, Scott!"
Scott didn't wish to hear that now, only wanting to get on with it before his cock blew, before the pounding sensation.
Before any of them knew it, they had let loose and with racket that could probably raise the roof, they had overjoyed each other with their four-way sexcapade!
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Copyright 2018 T. Chase McPhee
`GLaDiaToR EV'ry DaY' and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.