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.
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LiFe SuCKs! 01 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"OOo-o-o-o-oOO-o-o-o, like I'm really scared, Jerome!"
It's the same line Travis had used in junior high school, when the bullies tried turning him into a straight boy. Fast forward to another town, another high school, in his senior year. This time, it wasn't only his own life on the line, but two of his buddies, the three caught near the swimming hole, doing gay stuff.
For a while, keeping up the tough facade of a high school football player worked for Travis, but happening upon the two, even though his older brother advised, `play it cool', the churning of his teen junk erased thoughts of Trevor's wise words and he dove right in, when the two on the shore sensed he wanted to get involved.
So, here was Travis Dalles, a month before graduation, standing there in the raw, a guy on either side of him, each holding an arm. Worsening scenario, the dude talking roughly to him, fellow senior, Jerome Smith, captain of the football team, stood there, warming up his big knuckles.
"I can't fuckin' believe you were on your knees Dalles," pronounced like the Texas city, instead of `Dalls', "with some guy's cock down your throat!" Taking out his anger, perhaps mixed with a feeling of thinking of Travis as a traitor to their initial friendship, makes Jerome haul off and deliver a hefty gut punch.
"Oh fuck!" Travis belches out between the coughs, his midsection caving in, both hands clutching his abs.
One of the trio of bullies says, "You want us to get him up?"
With obvious abandonment to gay prejudice, the third member of the `workover committee', says, "Yeah, give the cocksucker a beating he'll never forget!"
Travis wasn't ignoring their comments, wanted to get up and fight for his rights, but like ringing in his ears, fell back on the comments his brother left him before heading off to college, play dead!' He didn't play dead', but more `fatigued', moaning, falling over on his head, his arms bracing his bod, forming a bridge.
Little did Travis realize, it made the perfect arc for Jerome's toe, making contact with his already bruised abs!
"Ugh-h-h-h-h!" Travis belched, the force of Jerome's kick-to-the-abs flipping him over onto his back, human response to cuddle into a fetal position on his side to fend off an aggressor.
Trio of his football companions leaving, he hears them all in awe of finding him to be gay, one voice is singled out, "I can't believe he's one of them faggots!"
Second football dude responds, "Yeah, I know. He acts so straight. Travis, sure fooled us, huh Jerome?"
Travis, who had flatlined onto his stomach, one hand still feeling up his sore abs, looks to where they are piling into Jerome's truck.
They were distant, but Jerome made sure Travis heard, with his elevated voice, "He can act as straight as he wants, but wait till the school finds out he's a damn faggot!"
Before driving off, Travis also knew his football days were numbered, like `yesterday' the last day of practice for him, hearing Jerome shooting his mouth off about him being the team's cum-dump.
Lying there, soon the pain in his stomach subsided. It did occur to him, his two sex-mates? Of course. He was the center of attraction, so Tom and Jerry beat it. Travis reasoned with himself, `Why should they stick around and have their guts bashed in?'
Rolling over onto his back, he looked up through the trees which lined the very small pool of water. Even though he felt some pain in his stomach, thinking of Trevor, it made him smile.
His first year of college, Trevor was remarking at how different it was from high school. At college, nobody thought anything about being gay. In fact there were organizations which catered to gay awareness. By these words, Travis couldn't wait till the end of the school year and on to a more free and acceptable life.
As far as life on the homefront, the rents weren't too cool with finding out one of their two sons was gay, so on advice from Trevor, he kept it secret. Right after Trevor left for college, their father went on and on about the unbelief that one of his sons was one of those faggots!' It actually made Travis laugh up at the sun sparkling through the trees, saying out loud, "Well, dad, wait till you find out the `other' one is too!" He laughed his ass off.
There wasn't much love lost in the family as it stands. He was sure all those hours his mom said she put in at the diner, weren't at the diner. If his father only knew about the time he picked up the phone and some `Denny' was asking for her!
This also was a cause for laughter. After all, his old man wasn't any prize package. When Trevor went off to college, his tuition was made up of all the money his brother saved with after school jobs at a Bill's Service Station at the edge of town. Trevor was much more bold a dude than himself, something to be admired. Reflecting on this ideal Travis had thought about doing the same thing, but chickened out about meeting up with guys for sex and a nice chunk of earnings. There were a few who invited him in when delivering pizza, but he never accepted. Of course there were some hot guys who answered the door, he wouldn't mind picking up some loose change!
Trying to relax from his ordeal, Travis thought about one in particular. The guy, Jason, lived 5 miles away. Out of the driving range of the pizzeria, Tony, his employer, said he needed the business, after the chain pizzeria opened down the block. In order to not screw up the delivery schedule, Tony gave the dude $5 off his pizza, on stipulation, his delivery boy could deliver as the last on his route.
Lying there among the trees, Travis thought more on the dude, answering the door in his gym shorts. He was so, so, so, so sexy hot, muscled, patch of dark brown hair on his chest, stripe cutting the sixpack in half, tattoo imprint over his left shoulder... worst part about the whole thing, the dude was overbearing, inviting him. From that day on, he hated himself for refusing, but then again, he wasn't as accepting as Trevor, too falling back on his bro's words to `play it cool'. Feeling psychological pangs in hit stomach, Travis says out loud, "Yeah, I've played it cool alright, Trev!" Regression setting in, the pangs subsided, thinking of, even though he didn't accept Jason's invitation, it was nice of the dude to give him a generous tip!
It wasn't over, like he thought, Travis lying there in the much, his hand taking over where his fantasy left off. Smiling, he thought of what might have happened if he went in. Closing his eyes, his hand slipped from his sore gut to his hairy pubes, slightly damp. It went like some porno movie. Travis had seen one or two trailers and read at nifty.org, knew how it could have gone. In no time he was stiff, his fantasy-man ditching the towel, him on his knees, sucking the dude off. "Oh yeah!" Travis let escape between his teeth, his hand really going at it.
"Having fun?"
"Oh shit!" Travis calls out, rolling over on his stomach, his hand protecting his hard shaft from digging a hole in the ground.
"Well, well, it's kind of far from Toledo's to be delivering a sausage of that size?"
Standing there with a fishing pole, he looked different with clothes on, Travis recognizing, "Oh, it's you!"
"I know there's a reason why you're lying faced down in the dirt without a stitch of clothing on... Thomas, is it?"
"Travis."
"Travis! Right!" the dude hit himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand. "How could I forget?!"
"I don't know. How many pizza boys do you know who give fantastic blowjobs?"
"I did say that, didn't I?" the dude asks.
"I was hoping you meant it. I put a lot into keeping you hard until you came, you know?"
"Oh I meant it. Of course I did. I think for a teenager you were good."
It occurs to Travis, "Say, I meant to ask, do you happen to know Bill's Service Station, down at the edge of town?"
"Sure. I fill up my truck there all the time. What about it?"
Not having a clue, Travis asks, "Last year there was a guy who worked there, Trevor, but he went off to college."
"Yeah, well... I can see the resemblance!" he smiles.
"You know Trevor?"
"Sure I know your brother. How else would I have known you work at Toledo's Pizzeria?"
Getting to his knees, at least half or more of the dude's height, Travis angrily says, "You knew my brother... wait!" Travis crawls over the ground, "Where's my pants?"
"Over here," the dude fishes a pair of jeans up from the muck.
"This really sucks!" Travis says of his grimy pants, but doesn't stop him from finding the pocket with his cell phone. Wiping his hands on his already soiled bod, he manages to speed dial. "Hello? Trev? Yeah... no, nothing's wrong..."
Even though getting worked over by his former friends and captain of the high school football team, everything was just fine, except something, he finds out, Trevor had told some guy, when they were lying in bed and `talking.'
Cutting off his cell phone, Travis looks up at him, saying, "Trevor says he made a lot of dough off of you, like you're almost responsible for putting him through his first year of college?"
"I suppose it goes something like that. Um, would you mind if I did a little fishing?"
Travis didn't respond, but the dude headed down to the shore, him saying, "By the way, Trevor says your name is Mike. You told me your name is Jason."
"The first time I always tell them Jason."
Travis keeps up the interrogating, "How many times did you and Trevor, um..."
"We didn't keep track," Mike replies, putting a worm on the hook.
"Poor worm," Travis says, standing at Mike's shoulder, Mike squatting down.
Right in Mike's face, he doesn't turn, but asks, "Do you have a thing for stripping down in the forest and jerking off?" He did turn slightly, glance at Travis' muddy pubes, up at his face, and then pay attention to casting the line.
Pouty reply, Travis says, "Not exactly. Not until after two dudes held me and a third worked me over."
"No way!" Mike exclaims, giving Travis his full attention, allowing his fishing pole to fall into the water. "Are you alright? Who did it?"
"Guys on the football team who have something against gay dudes. That's all," Travis makes it sound inconsequential.
Right now, fishing wasn't important, Mike reeling in his line.
"Did you catch one?" Even though Travis knew he didn't.
"Not today. We've got more important things to tend to, like getting you cleaned up?"
Searching for Travis' clothing didn't turn up the whole wardrobe. His pants were there, but missing was his briefs. His tee shirt was a total mess, a mix of dirt and water.
"Here," Mike said, taking off his tee shirt.
"I can't wear your shirt!"
"Put it on," Mike insisted.
Like the afternoon he delivered `Jason' the pizza, Travis again relished the look of Mike's bod, hairy chest up to the neck, cut off at the pecs, heavy stripe down the middle, branched out and swirling around his navel and virtually no trail, but a swath of hair.
"What?" Mike asks, after Travis puts the tee shirt on.
Fibbing, Travis says, "Nothing. I'm getting your tee shirt dirty."
"I have a washing machine," Mike replies.
"Oh, we're going to your place?"
"After we stop at the police station?"
"No!" Travis frets. "We can't.. I mean..."
Previous information gathered from Trevor, Mike asks, "Your old man still don't know you're gay?"
Travis guesses, "Trevor told you?"
"There isn't much Trevor didn't tell me."
They didn't go to the police station, at Travis' request, instead heading off in Mike's truck, to his place.
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Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee
`LiFe SuCKs!' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.