You know the drill: 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, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states 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.
i Was a Teenaged CuB 11 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
Not that it really mattered, but it seemed like every time Pete tried getting a word in edgewise, he was sidetracked by Michael, explaining everything in a panoramic view, to Cubby!
"Oh look!" Michael exclaims.
Even Pete looked!
And like explaining it to a kiddie, "It's the nice policeman waiting to catch a speeder!"
"Ain't me!" Pete proudly says. "Nope. I'm being a good tour guide and taking it nice'n'easy!"
"Sorry," Michael says, realizing he and Cubby have been monopolizing the conversation. "So, you live alone?"
"Glad you mentioned it," Pete replies.
Michael's heart leapt, thinking Pete's house was occupied by another male. Jumping the gun, he asks, "You've got a boyfriend?"
After a short, nasally laugh, Pete says, "Not yet, but worse than a boyfriend, there's granny!"
"Does granny like dogs?"
"Not really," Pete replies, going on to tell him granny doesn't even know he's gay, so watch it on the `gay stuff' and other things like she hates animals.
"Then how come you're in the family pet shop business?"
"My father's name was Peter. My grandfather's name was Peter...."
"Any other Peters?" Michael asks.
"Nope." "Then you're... hey, what's your last name?"
"Parry," Pete replies.
"Peter Parry the third, then?"
"I like to keep it simple," Pete replies. "Furthermore, I'm just warning you, granny can be kind of rough on the edges when it comes to strangers."
As soon as they went in the front door, Michael observes someone in a wheel chair, in the living room. "Nice place," he says upon entering, "Massive!"
Really he did it to `warn' the old lady, something he often did when approaching his Aunt Mary at home, because she would get startled out of her wits if someone came up behind her and touched her.
Peter was shaken out of his gourd when his grandmother says, "Oh hello young man?"
"Hi Mrs. Parry. I'm Michael," at which point he allowed Cubby out of his grips and proceeded to remove his red baseball cap. And when Mrs. Parry went to reach over and pet Cubby, Michael rushed to her side, put a hand on her shoulder and cautioned, "Careful ma'am."
Sitting up, the second thing to surprise Pete, she asks, "Is this your boyfriend, Peter?"
"Grandmother, I didn't know you knew?" Pete exclaimed.
Placing a big smile on her face, she says, "Why I've know ever since you were sixteen and ya kissed that man out in the orchard!" She winks, then draws her attention back to Michael.
Saying, "Who would've thought!" made Michael look at Pete.
On Michael's mind was just who Pete kissed in the orchard when he was sixteen and whether `Granny' saw only kissing!
%
"Oh-h-h-h-h!" Artemus cried out each time he poked his big cock into Davy's mouth, the cupped lips giving him a fantastic blowjob.
Probably keeping in the same tempo, Davy's hand was keeping his own joystick in stiff condition.
"Okay, that little bit of business is taken care of," Chad says, entering, shutting the door and then with haste begins dismantling his blue hospital fatigues.
"You want to take over?" Artemus asks, his hard shaft lodged in Davy's mouth.
"Yeah," and then with excuse Chad tells him, "just to get me lubed up."
Pulling out, Artemus sat on the side, hand-keeping his cock in a straight line, watching Chad sit on Davy's chest and shove his meat in.
"Yeah, take it bitch!"
Davy was ready to tag Chad, tell him to not forget about his head, but then again Chad's shaft seemed to have a different quality about it. More he thought about it, Chad definitely was `longer' than Artemus and soon he felt the difference, Chad's pubic bush nestling at his nostrils, his cock going down his throat. He knew Chad said something about taking his ass, but Davy could swear he was swallowing something and was moaning up a storm.
"You gonna fuck him now?"
"Nah, maybe later," Chad says, hopping off Davy's bod, grabbing up his clothes. Out of consideration, because he probably thought Davy thought they were going to spend the night together, "You two having fun?" "Loads," Davy replies.
"Fine," Chad replies, holding the door open for himself, "because I've got a date with a client." And in closing, "Artemus, keep the man satisfied?" With a smile, he left.
Thinking about it, Davy's taste-buds picked up something slimy and salty. He hints Artemus, "I think I've had my fill for the night?"
With a wide grin Artemus approaches Davy from the foot of the bed.
Davy, his knees up, slips both legs far apart.
"Oh-h," Artemus comments, "nice'n'hairy!"
Not having recollected where Artemus had been other on the bed, off for a short second, then climbing back up, towards his ass, he wonders, when the thirty year old starts priming his ass with lube. Didn't matter though. What mattered was feeling one greasy finger inserted in his ass, two, then three.
"Four, do I get a prize?" He teases Artemus.
"Four, you get the `fat' finger!"
Taking a chance, Davy says, "I like it shoved in. No mercy?"
Smiling, Artemus says, "Would you like a dildo alongside it?"
Maybe Artemus was joking, Davy not kidding, saying, "Hell yeah! You got one?"
Not wanting to take the thrill out of the solo work, Artemus says, "Maybe after my tool busts your ass open first!"
And without warning Artemus shoves his cock in beyond the tip, all the way to the hilt, till his pubes are kissing Davy's hairy ass!
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"Nice pictures Mrs. Parry," Michael says, after sitting, Pete standing and watching.
Pete hints, "Maybe Michael has seen enough pictures, grandmother?"
A lot of things were wrong with this scene. Normally, if Pete brought anybody home they were coerced into looking at the zillions of family picture albums. When Pete thought the person was bored silly he would use the same, `seen enough pictures, grandmother' line.
Maybe Pete thought he was the only one getting the benefit, but his grandmother also gauged the presence of the quality of the company she was keeping.
For Michael, it seemed like two people were looking for an answer, both the grandmother and the grandson. What came to immediate mind was he did not want to hurt the grandmother's feelings. Even though she was younger, Mrs. Parry seemed like a replica of his Aunt Mary, though his aunt wasn't confined to a wheelchair. Too, when Uncle Jim wasn't there, his Aunt Mary was so thankful he was. This woman, other than Pete, had no one. However, he too wanted to get going with Pete, so compromised, "How about we look at pictures a little while longer?"
Probably it was Michael's smile which was the clincher, the grandmother saying something which also confounded her grandson, "Oh no... you run along young man!"
Even weirder, his grandmother was offering to watch Cubby!
But Michael said, "Thanks, but Cubby might be getting sick and I wouldn't want him to barf all over you, Mrs. Parry!"
While Pete was leading Michael into the kitchen, he was saying, "I haven't heard her laugh like that in years."
Michael says of it, "I didn't think a dog barfing on a person was so funny?"
"Everybody has their own kind of sense of humor of which..."
"What?" Michael asks as he and Cubby also look into the refrigerator.
"I think Cubby's a hit with `Grandma'?"
Closing the refrigerator door, pasting his back to it, Pete comments, "I think `you're' a hit with Grandma!" ending his statement with a finger poke to the stomach. He then makes fun, "Oh, aren't we spongy there?"
If anyone else, past or present company, had made fun of Michael's slight tummy bulge, he would have allowed his temper to fume up inside of him, but it being `Pete', he let him poke away, saying, "Stop it! Or... or I'll make Cubby bite your finger off!"
As he said it, Cubby growled.
"Oh shit! He growled at me!"
"Told ya," Michael replies with a smile.
Nonchalantly, Pete says, "Better keep him out, when we're in the sack!"
"Oh why?" Michael replies, "Were you planning on you and me...."
Realizing what his words, Pete says, "Well... I'd like to... that is if you.... feel it?"
"You know what?" Michael pitches Pete's way, after letting Cubby down to the floor.
"No. What?"
"Now don't laugh, but while we were riding in the car I was trying to picture how you looked underneath your clothes."
Pete, ready to burst, says, "Can I laugh now?"
"I wasn't saying it to be funny."
"No, I don't mean laugh in `that' sort of way. All I meant is... well I was kind of thinking the same thing?"
Michael's red hair stood out enough over his fair skin, so when he blushed with embarrassment, one could tell. "I guess I owe you an apology."
"No," Pete refutes, stepping forwards till they almost touch bods, "it's me who should be apologizing to you."
And after a tender kiss, Michael backs away, exclaiming, "Oh wow!"
"What?" Pete asks.
"I just kissed an older man!"
Now `that' made Pete laugh, but leave it to Cubby to break up their moment together, his little paws scratching at the door to go out!
%
There wasn't much Mark west could do, catching Heinrich Baden and Patrick Gilhooly with the action already in progress. What's a man to do when coming upon a twenty year old college jock with his pants down, one foot up on the bench and his friend making Patrick's ass red as a beet.
"Never leave home without it, Heinrich?" Mark inquires of the fifty-two year old.
Holding up the wooden paddle, Heinrich replies, "Best way to turn a man on!"
Patrick, waiting, says, "Um, like you want to get on with it before I go soft?"
Heinrich says to Mark, "How about helping Patrick out here so he doesn't go soft?"
One stipulation of the `Cub Club', when you walked down those stairs from the upstairs bar and grill, you had to be dressed appropriately, which meant placing all of your clothes in a box, your name tagged on the outside.
So, walking around the bench to the other side, and falling to his knees, the twenty-nine year old gym owner matched the pair perfectly.
Heinrich waited till the opportune moment to deliver the next whack of the paddle, when Patrick was engrossed in having half of his eight inches embedded in Mark's mouth, tongue swirling around the barrel. Thinking, This is gonna be so sweet!', the paddle was stretched back and with two hands on the handle... whack!' the crack of the wood against ass could be heard.
"Ak-k-k-k-k-k-oh-shi-i-i-i-i-i-i-it!" Patrick cried out, his ass shoved forward.
Catching more of the force, Mark wasn't prepared, as Patrick sent his whole eight inches down the throat. He had to pull back himself, lest he choke to death, Mark coughing.
Thinking it a big joke, Heinrich laughs, saying, "What'samatter Mark? Can't take a mouthful?"
Walking over to a mirror, Patrick tries gazing at his ass, "Oh shit? Would you look what you've done to my ass?"
Responding, Heinrich walks over to him, pushes Patrick's front right up against the mirror, saying, "Yeah and I got something to make it feel all better!"
Guys often wondered if Heinrich, in years, past fifty, pumped himself up with viagra or something, whatever to keep himself in a constant state of ten-thick inches.
Not a stranger to Heinrich stretching his ass canal, Patrick always makes it sound like it, knowing the fucker loves to hear it, "Um, I don't think so Heinrich. I wouldn't want you to get wedged in there and not be able to out?"
And as always happens, Heinrich asks, "Are you through wasting your breath?"
As Patrick answers, he's sooner stretching the muscles of his mouth, making a big round `O', feeling the pangs of pain as his ass is forced open.
Like what's happened before, Mark slowly masturbates himself, knowing the scene is going to eventually cause an explosion.
However, he hasn't paid much attention to the down stairway, hasn't heard anyone, because they've taken precaution to be as quiet as they can for element of surprise. Slapping Mark's hand off his cock, he hears from behind a gruff voice, "Who gave you permission to touch that cock boy!"
Right away Mark recognizes the voice, "Master Trevor?" and turns around.
Panning out, as the play went, Mark already kicked in with bracing his core, taking the waiting gut-punch, "Hough-h!"
Sending him to his knees, there's a merciless response, Master Trevor saying, "Get that tongue on my boots boy and you better make them shine!"
Like it has gone, Mark gets as low to the floor as he can and begins to lick Master Trevor's boot.
Bending over, Master Trevor says, as both hands reach under Mark, feeling up his chest till he finds his two nips, "Yeah, feel like doing some damage to these babies tonight!"
Last time it was having his abs tested, Master Trevor hanging him from the rafters by both arms. Times before that, it was having his nips played with or his back whipped. Being totally safe about their play, attached to each instance was a challenge. The biggest challenge he lost, one of the first gut-punching sessions, he paid heavily, having to forfeit a year's pass to the gym.
Tonight he informs Mark, "That yearly gym pass you gave me is just about expired!"
In the flick of a moment Mark could easy-as-pie renew it, but he loved a good challenge, saying, "Oh really? Well you know you don't get something for nothing?"
"What I thought," Master Trevor replies. Standing there at six-foot two he replies, "see how raw we can make them nips?"
Mark had to think quick, because he didn't have much time. Did he really want sore nips? In a minute he would accept the proposition because in reality he did have very sensitive nips, which craved attention. But also, it had to be the right man. As he looked up to Master Trevor, he was the epitomy of how a leathered master should look, except without the leather. He figured a few bucks must've been slipped to the bartender upstairs, to allow Master Trevor to retain his boots.
"Not up for a challenge?" He asks when Mark is too long taking his sweet time.
"Yeah. I accept!" Mark quickly snaps back.
With an evil grin and rubbing his hands together, Master Trevor replies, more the `oo' tones, "Go-o-o-od!"
Mark wondered if he made the right decision.
Wiggling his finger, Master Trevor signals Mark to follow him, leading him forth, "Now... let's see the proper apparatus for securing you?"
As Mark followed, he licked his lips a few times and felt a rush of saliva in his mouth, feasting his eyes on Master Trevor's ass. As his cheeks shuffled back and forth with each step, it made the shag down the crack respond with each marching step. So intent was his studying, when Master Trevor stopped, a collision of bods occurred, Mark excusing himself, as his front collides with the master's back, "Oops!"
"Watch the fuck where you're going boy?"
With a double whammy, his intent attention given to Master Trevor's ass, too he was unprepared for the fist which sucker-punching him in the stomach.
In consolation Master Trevor stands there, hands on his hips and says, "Daymn! What the fuck you doing over there at the gym? A muscleman like you can't even take a tiny little punch in the stomach?
While Mark catches up with his breathing and stands from kneeling, he truthfully states, "Not when I'm caught off guard!"
"Oh really?" Master Trevor replies, then going about his business of fixing the stocks for Mark's bod, "Then, so you know, when I get your nips clamped down I'm going to be working over your gut!"
He could have protested, it was his right to do so, like any man who was a member of the `Cub Club', but the tingling sensation between his legs became too much to bear, to put himself in danger of saying something which would tick Master Trevor off, breaking up their nice little evening of fun. Too, as the master had him put his head and wrists in the cut outs of the wooden beam of the stock, all he could think of is the postlude to their evening of play, Master Trevor standing behind him and working him over with the beam between his legs!
%
Standing there, waiting for Cubby to do his think, Pete watched the little mongrel, while Michael ventured over towards Pete's grandmother, still doing some gardening.
She sat on an iron garden bench, sighing, "Whew! I'm not as young as I used to be!"
Michael sat on the other side, saying, "I think you do more than my Aunt Mary?"
"How old is she?"
"Um, around sixty. How old are you grandma? Oops! I mean Mrs. Parry?" Michael questions.
Cackling, Mrs. Parry leans over to Michael, giving his arm an affectionate hug and saying, "I wish I had a nice grandson like you!"
As quick as she attaches, she lets go, Michael responding, "Thanks. I never knew any of my grandparents, but if I did, I'd hope they were like you Mrs...."
"Oh fiddlesticks! Michael?"
"What?"
"If you want I could be `your' grandma too?"
To Michael it didn't matter really. But she was a nice old lady and he liked her, so says, "Sure! I think it would be cool!"
Cubby, like being the sheep, led the shepherd right over to Michael, Pete saying, "Michael and I are going out for something to eat. Want us to bring you something back?"
Before she can get her answer out, Michael says, "Hey, why don't you come with us grandma?"
"`Grandma'?" Pete replies, question both the namesake Michael has taken up and him asking her to go with them.
Finally she says, "Oh no. You two go and have your lovely evening."
More insistent, Michael badgers, "Oh c'mon. We have something to celebrate!"
"Celebrate?" replies Pete.
"Yeah. Your grandmother has a new grandson and I have a new grandma!"
Smiling, it was forced, Pete's intention having been Michael all to himself the possibility of stopping by the `Cub Club', which he didn't think it exactly grandma's cup of tea. Not how he wanted it to go, he follows, "I see."
It was the most excitement the old lady has had in a long time, Michael making it happen, so she accepts, "Well then I better go put myself together for a night on the town!"
After she leaves, Michael says, "I hope I didn't go overboard?"
Overboard? Yeah, it's what Pete was thinking, but the tiny smile on Michael's face made him instantly change his reaction, to match. Stepping forwards, like a batter readying for the pitch, Pete butts bellies, "How could I ever think anything you do is going overboard?" Changing attitudes completely, "Overboard? Where did that come from? You got a yacht in the harbor or something?"
"Dah?" Michael replies. "What harbor?"
Covering himself, Pete says, as his hands move faster than his words, "Like how about the lake up the road?"
"There's a lake up the road? Where?"
"Pond?"
Still Michael wondered, since to his knowledge there wasn't a significant area of water within a good two hundred miles.
"Would you believe the pool out back?" When Pete said `back', both his palms rested on Michael's curved buns.
"Are you trying to tell me something Pete?"
An evil grin coursing his lips, Pete butts more than his stomach up to Michael's slightly extended front, saying, "Oh, if we weren't taking grandma out to dinner tonight I'd do more than tell you how awesome I could do `something'!"
Michael just smiled, blushing, that fair skin giving in to his true emotion.
However, while Michael dwell on Pete's words, he also felt one hand surrender up holding him close, a hand clutching his ass-cheek, moving quickly around front to capture his hidden emotion, "What have we got here?"
"Aren't you boys ready yet?"
`Rats!' Thwarted again, the two turned heads towards the bannister, seeing grandma standing there in her finast.
Not oblivious to what was going on, she says in a suggestive manner, "There will be plenty of time for that stuff later on. Now you two hurry upstairs and get ready!"
Michael, noticing her decked out in her finest wardrobe, dripping with jewelry, comments, "You look so elegant grandma!" He had to hesitate for a moment. Calling her `grandma' still felt awkward. Overlooking the formalities he says, "Are those," the jewels, "real?"
Coming to stand next to Michael, with an edge to his attitude because he was so close to getting semi-sexually involved, Pete grabs Michael's arm, saying, "You better believe they're real! Now c'mon. Let's go get dressed."
With a word of caution, grandma yells at them as the two ascend the grand staircase, "Dress nice! I like my men properly attired when I take them out to dinner!"
Feeling like he was being hauled up the stairs, Michael tugged on Pete's arm to ask, "Taking us' out to dinner grandma? I thought we were taking you' out to dinner?"
Pete whispers, "Shut up. She's got tons more loot than we do!"
He might've thought he was playing it cool with his lowered voice, grandma returning, "Oh course not. You know I've got tons more loot than you do!"
Pete rolled his eyes as Michael giggles.
%
"Ya gotta do better than that boy!" Master Trevor says, as a ploy, swiping his saliva-covered shaft out from Mark West's mouth.
"Oh-h-h-h!" Marc moans out of depravation.
His plan, making this whole scenario in his mind a long, drawn out ordeal, Master Trevor retraces his steps, his feet slightly apart from his former distance, his next move, to tease Mark's lips.
"You want it boy, ya gotta move that tongue around the barrel," and only then does Master Trevor start to press forward, the head of his cock piercing the barrier between fresh air and wet liquid, allowing Mark's lips to coddle, slide over the bulbed head of his thick stalk, travel down the sides of his shaft.
There's a slight pause, the sound of regurgitation, Mark getting used to Master Trevor's cock diving head first, literally, down his throat. One thing he's always been glad of, the tonsillectomy years back, which leaves his throat wide open to accept any man's fuck tool, no matter how massive. So far, the thirty year old's 9.5c has been the longest and widest shaft ever to traverse down the tube to his stomach. And Mark knew, from experience, doing Master Trevor on several occasions, if he didn't get his 9.5c positioned in just the right manner, when he blew his massive load, he would wind up choking, the semen rupturing up between cock and throat, choking, instead of the sweet honey shooting right down into his stomach. Of course, he was always left with that sweet taste in his mouth, Master Trevor making his exit, all that sweet cream being squeezed out of his tube.
&
Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee
`i Was a Teenaged CuB' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.
The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....