The following story is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature, and is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas, in 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. This is fiction. Do not forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety matter'; got condom?
"Out In The Wild, Wild West" 19 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Five minutes after James West leaves Bart's Tavern, Pedro Gonzalez enters.
"Pedro, you're early. Very early, I'd say."
"Wanted to come around and check up the piece of meat I'll be using tonight."
Bart sees Pedro look over in Steve Connor's direction, as he mops up the floor.
"Uh, there's been a little change in plans, Pedro."
"Huh? Listen, Bart, I'm paying you big money, so..."
"Hold it a minute, Pedro," Bart pleads, as Pedro's big fist winds up the middle of his shirt.
"If'n you don't have a nice hunk of beef for me to play with, it's going to be your ass...."
"It's West... James West!"
Relaxing his grip, Pedro asks, "What about West?"
"That's your 'hunk of beef'.... I mean..." Bart says nervously, hoping Pedro is in acceptance of his offer.
"West? Agent West of the Secret Service?"
"One in the same," Bart confirms it, still waiting to see if he's going to get released from Pedro's clutches.
"Wait a minute. Why would West put himself at my disposal for..."
"A cut, plus..."
"Plus what?"
"You're a challenge to him."
"Challenge? Me? I'm not out to fight him. Hey, what are you trying to pull here, Bart?"
"Nothing, Pedro. I swear it. West... he... he knows what you're into. He knows how rough you can get."
"He knows of me?"
"Yeah. He knows you like to extract pain from men."
"He does, does he and what does West think about that?"
"I told you. He looks on it as a challenge, Pedro."
"West wants to see how much he can take?"
"Sure. I thought you knew about him."
"First I've heard of it. Far as I knew, the only one like that is Swede."
"I tried getting Swede for you, but he's up the coast."
"Hmm... So you say West can take what Swede can?"
"I've seen it with my own eyes," Bart reports.
"Yeah? What did you see?"
"Taylor brought him in here once."
"Taylor, you say? He can be tough. What did West take from him?"
"Punching in the stomach, strap across the back..."
"How many?"
"How many what? Punches?"
"Both."
"Well, as I recall, Taylor gave him about twenty punches and..."
"Twenty? That's it?"
"Yeah, but West took at least fifty lashes across the back."
"Fifty? You serious? What a wimp!"
"But that was with limits, Pedro."
"Oh, well that's different. Did you explain to West I'm calling 'no limits'?"
"Sure. I told him."
However, it's the one little detail that Bart had left out of their agreement, for the play this evening.
"And what did West say to that?"
"He brushed it off," Bart fibbed. Continuing on the lying spree, to save his own ass, "In fact, West told me he thought that's the way it was going to be."
"No limits."
"Yes. Of course."
"Hmm..." Pedro thought, his hand rubbing his crotch, feeling the excitement prematurely. Then Pedro informed him, "You better not by lying to me, Bart, or it'll be you hanging there in the dungeon, sames rules!"
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After Bart closed the tavern door behind the thirty-seven year old, six foot four inch, two hundred and twenty-five pound monster, he sighed a sense of relief, wiping his sweating brow off with his sleeve.
"What was the about, Bart? Pedro all set up to use me tonight?"
"Um... yeah. I told how you're new at it and he's promised to be lenient on you."
"Thanks. Nice to know that he can be a good sport."
"Oh, and Steve?"
"Yeah, Bart?"
"James West might be dropping by."
"Oh, so you're not sore at me for mentioning the dungeon to him?"
"No, not at all. Kind of made Pedro feel a little better about things."
"I saw him get a bit testy, go off on you."
"He was upset a smidgeon, but when I mentioned that there will be two to play with, he calmed down."
"So I saw."
"In fact, Steve, Pedro and I will be playing with you in the outer dungeon, so that he and Jim can have their privacy together afterwards."
"Does that mean you'll be playing with me alone, Bart?"
Steve insinuated something more than some friendly torture.
"Hmm... might even decide to have you all to myself and let West fend for himself, with Pedro."
Liking the sound of that, Steve tried coaxing Bart into altering the plans. Bart even liked the idea, seeing how it would fit his plans, to get Steve out of the dungeon altogether, so Pedro could have a wickedly good time with Jim.
%
Figuring on some late night bath, after their rigorous playing tonight, James West ducked into the apothecary shop.
"James West?"
"Mark Taylor, how are you?"
"I'm doing well. I see you survived our last play session?"
"I'm walking, aren't I?" Jim quipped, producing some laughs from both.
"Get in any action after us?"
"A little here and there."
Jim didn't let on about the compound, the heavy torturing he took and the effects of Dr. Nelson's experimental serum. Top secrets like that were meant to remain secret. That's why they termed it the `Secret Service'!
"From what I hear, Jim, is that you're taking on Pedro Gonzalez tonight, since Swede is out of town."
"How did you hear of that?"
"It's all over the streets. Men are placing bets on the odds."
"Oh? And which side are you betting on, Marc?"
"I'm siding with you, of course James."
West would never know the difference that Marc Taylor bet heaps of money against Jim. Tops within the bdsm circle, knew how brutal Pedro Gonzalez could be. Jim, an occasional player might have escaped all the rumors.
"The way I figure it, if Swede can take on Pedro Gonzalez, then I can!"
Marc Taylor liked Jim's confidence. He wondered if West knew the reason why Swede was up the coast, visiting relations. This evening, Taylor had plans to be out of town, but decided to cancel and hang around Bart's Tavern, instead.
After Marc Taylor bid his farewell, an eighteen year old kid walks up to Jim.
"Hey Mister West?"
"That's me. What can do for you, son?"
"I heard all about what you're doing tonight."
"Did, did you?"
"Yeah. I know that guy told you he placed a bet, favoring you, but I overheard him betting against your favor."
"Really?" Jim replied, looking out through the store front window, as Taylor lifted himself into his carriage.
"Yeah. I wanted to let you know that I believe in you, Mr. West."
"How's that?" His interest grew in the young man.
With a smirk on his face, the eighteen year old replied, "Um, you see Mr. West, I know of you... why, you're a legend, Mr. West!"
Jim smiled at him.
"And well... I tried talking to somebody at the secret service a coupla years back. Told them I wanted to be just like you."
"Couple of years ago? How old are you now, um...."
Another grin and he adds, "Don't laugh, Mr. West."
"Sounds like you're being serious. Of course I wouldn't laugh," Jim replied, all serious like.
"Well, okay. My name is Johnny East and I'm eighteen."
It did strike him as humorous, but seeing the meaning of the body language, trying to be sincere, Jim held back any giddy emotion.
"It's nice to meet you Johnny."
They shook hands.
"I realize your age, as a couple of years ago, Johnny, but whom did you see at the secret service?"
"A man named Grady. At the gate."
"Grady? He's a security entrance agent."
"I asked him and he said I was too little."
"Oh well. Then you didn't see the main figure behind the agency."
"I didn't think I had to."
"What gave you that impression?"
"Because Mr. Grady said he would pass on the information about me."
"I guess it never made it on to Mr. Foxworth, because you're still standing here, telling me about it."
"Is that the guy's name? The head of the Secret Service, Mr. West?"
"Yes and you can call me Jim."
"Really? As important as you are, you're going to let me call you that, Mr. West?"
"Sure."
"Um, Jim, can I ask you something kind of personal?"
"Sure. Why don't you wait till I pick up a few things and then we can talk outside, Johnny?"
"Okay Jim!"
The eighteen year old grinned ear to ear. He watched as Jim approached the counter, requested some things, waiting for them to be wrapped up. Standing there, he eyed up the contour of Jim's body, the tight pants revealing rounded ass cheeks. He turned and winked at Johnny. As he did, Johnny saw the 'V' of his shirt and the hairy chest protruding from the space. If he could become a secret service man, he would wear the same hat that James West wore. He would want to become just like the vision everybody saw James West as.
"Ready?" Jim inquired.
"Sure, Jim."
"Hey, how would you like to go and meet the man in charge?"
"Mr. Foxworth you mean, Jim?"
"Sure. Maybe I can put in a good word for you."
"You would do that for me?"
"How can I not, after that fine detective work you did, filling me in the dealings of Mr. Taylor?"
"You mean that information helped you out?"
He acknowledged to Johnny that it had, but he wondered why Taylor would deliberately lie to him. Already putting two and two together, Jim thought it would be a rough night tonight. However, his lower region churned, because that's the way West liked it!
"Hey, you drink coffee, Johnny?"
"Yep. Been drinking it since I was twelve."
Smiling, Jim herded Johnny into the cafe. A waiter took them to a round table, in the corner. They ordered right away.
"And the young man will have a plate of eggs, bacon, some of your special coffee cakes and an apricot brandy to top it off."
"Wait a minute," Johnny replied, before the waiter could depart, "I can't pay for all that!"
The waiter smiled, walking away.
"Didn't he hear me, Jim?"
"Oh, he heard you. It's on me, though Johnny."
"Really? How am I ever going to pay you back, Jim?"
"Your treat next time!"
"I don't know even about that, Jim. But I suppose if you get me a job with the secret service, then I could afford it."
"Tell me something, Johnny, are you from around here?"
By the looks of Johnny's clothing, the degree of filth, Jim had his suspicions.
"Um, I... I... I go to college. Yeah, that's it. I live over at the houses at the college."
"I see."
The waiter brought their coffee and some danish. Johnny's eyes became glued to the pastries.
"Go ahead, Johnny."
"Aren't you going to have some Jim?"
"Yeah. I'll pick after you."
Reaching out for the cherry-centered roll, Jim could see the filth on Johnny's hand, but didn't say anything. He watched as the pastry didn't even make it to Johnny's plate, but directly into his mouth. Then half of Johnny's coffee cup went that way, as well.
"A little hungry, are we?"
"Tasted good, Jim. Mind if I take another?"
Jim wound up not tasting any pastries, as Johnny devoured all four.
"Mmmm... that tasted mighty good, Jim. Aren't you hungry?"
"Not as much as you are. Um, Johnny, you know my job is to seek out information, like a detective, right?"
"Oh sure I do, Jim. I think I would be good at that. Like, I did snooping around and then found out about Mr. Taylor."
"You did a good job, Johnny. However, I've been doing some clue-seeking for the past thirty minutes and think I've discovered some clues to a hidden secret."
Looking about the room, to his right and left, being very discreet, coy, Johnny inquires, "Are you following somebody, Jim?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
"You."
"Me?"
Jim chuckled. He loved the look on Johnny's face, the cherry lips, with a little blueberry mixed in, forming the 'o'.
"Wha-why me? I'm not anybody special, Jim."
"On the contrary, Johnny. I think you're somebody very special!"
Not knowing exactly how to take that, Johnny's hand in his lap, had to divert a growing need to the side.
"I don't get it, Jim."
"I think we'll need to take a little detour before we go to see Mr. Foxworth about your job."
%
As Cal stirred awake, he faced the side of the bed where they left Sean and JJ sleeping. It lay open and empty. Looking across, his head rested on the right side of Braedon's chest. His ear picked up the beating heart. His breathing caused the little chest hairs to blow, as his nose exhaled. Looking upwards, he spied the relaxed nip that he had licked last night. Pivoting his head up, Cal looked upon the stubble of Braedon's jaw, pointing in the same direction as he, towards the morning light shining through. Moving his left leg, it rubbed against Braedon's flabby cock and balls. He pictured it a far cry from the raging hardon of last night, when the twenty-five year olds balls churned with fire. With left hand around the smooth stomach, almost buried between the mattress and torso, he swept it upwards, detecting the smooth skin. Looking up, Braedon made no movement, so he continued the sweeping, all the way up to the blond, hairy pec. His hand skimmed up, till his finger came in reaching distance of the flat silver dollar, surrounded by golden fur. Cal dared to put his finger in the middle, touching the little nub. Like turning on a mechanical toy, Braedon made a sound, his right arm folding towards them both, making Cal a prisoner of his arms. Cal dared to kiss Braedon on the underside of his chin.
"Huh?"
"Did I wake you, Brae?"
Now realizing whom he's holding, Braedon replies, "Yeah, baby... but it's okay. What time is it?"
"I don't know. Maybe seven thirty or eight."
"Oh," Braedon replied.
Reveling on the flight of fancy that took him last night, Cal proclaims, "I claimed you last night, remember Brae?"
"Yeah. Felt good."
"It caused you a lot of pain when I went in you, Brae."
"Yeah, I know, but it got better."
Looking up, the seventeen year old asks, "Am I going to get to do that again?"
"That's what claiming means. Why? You don't want to?"
"Don't look so scared, Brae! Of course I want to. Besides you said you wanted to be a one man's man."
"Yeah. I remember saying that, but..."
"You changed your mind?" Cal asks, breaking the chains of Braedon's arms, pressing up from the bed, down to his navel.
"I didn't change my mind. What I'm concerned about is you!"
"I've been thinking about it."
"When?"
"This morning, as I'm lying here."
"And?"
All settled in once again, only hiked up a few inches, Cal confesses, "I liked being with you last night, Brae. I mean, after slapping JJ, I thought you were going to be like that with me."
"Oh, never baby."
"And..."
"What?"
"I like how you call me 'baby'. Nobody's ever called me that before."
"Has anybody tried?"
"No, Brae. I told you. I've haven't ever had sex with any man before."
"And how do you like it?"
"I like it lots, Brae. I like it that you were the one who first showed me how it goes. I like it that you are gentle about it. I especially like how it feels to have my cock inside you. I think I like you more than I like you, Brae."
Smiling, Braedon reported back the same truths.
"Hey you bums, JJ says breakfast is ready. You've got a job to get to big brother and Cal, we've got to get you registered!"
"Me? Registered? For what?"
"College, you idiot, so hurry up kiss'em and get moving!"
"What does Sean mean about getting me registered for college, Brae?"
"Beats me, baby. They must know something I do not. Of course I would not put it past Sean to arrange things on his own. He just goes and does thing like that, without me saying anything."
"Well, I want to go and find out!"
"Wait...wait..wait a minute there babe!" Braedon calls after him, two hands constraining Cal's right wrist, as he's headed out of the bed.
Plopping him back, like a returning rubber band, Cal falls back into the bed, asking, "What, Brae?"
With the sweetest smile, he requests, "What about my good morning kiss, babe? You know we're going to have to get used to that?"
Cal likes hearing that. Instead of a mere peck, he lays his whole body on Braedon's and forces their lips together.
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Lying there on his bed, Artemis Gordon awakens, already into a forced erection. His hand travels the length of his eight inches of cut meat, stroking feverishly. In his mind are visions of first James West, barechested, tied with arms above head, him behind his one time friend and partner, wielding a strap, hurtling it at his back. The kaleidoscope changes, flickering different images, as he continues the onslaught, bring up the equally barechested body of J.J. Sebastien and Braedon Murphy.
"Yeah! Yeah! Gonna fucking teach you a lesson, boys!"
As each of Gordon's victims get in their torturous beating, ropes of cum shoot straight up in the air, landing on his hairy stomach. Jet after jet streams out of his piss slit, caking up his hairy belly, sliding down into his navel. After the final fling of cum, his hand remains inactive on his shrinking cock. He breathes heavily, trying to recover from the memories that have spurned on the humongous eruption.
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"So, you're a runaway, are you?"
"Believe me, Jim. I had to get outta there."
Smiling, Jim replies, "Yeah, I guess when a boy gets to be a man, you can't keep him bound."
"So, you understand?"
"I sure do. You finished, Johnny?"
"I can't finish this roll, but would sure like to take it for later."
"Bernard, wrap the roll up for us, please?"
Johnny asks, "Do you come here often, Jim?"
"Once a week, but I've known Bernard before that."
"Oh?"
"He has a story similar to yours. I was able to secure him a job here. He started out washing dishes. Now he's head waiter."
"And you gave him his chance, like you're going to do with me?"
"Yes, but it's Bernard who has kept that job and don't you forget about that part, Johnny!"
"Oh, I won't disappoint you Jim."
"I have this feeling you won't, Johnny."
As they go to leave, Bernard's parting words are, "And Jim, be careful tonight?"
"I will, Bernard."
"And Jim?"
"Yes, Bernard?"
"I've got half a paycheck riding on you."
"Not a whole week's worth, Bernard?"
The two make a kind glance at one another, as they shake hands.
As they walk down the street, Jim points out different sections to Johnny.
"That's where all the ships leave port, bound for all over the world."
"I think I might like to see the world. Have you, Jim?"
"I've been around the country, but yes, I've sailed to San Francisco, once."
"How does it feel to be on one of those big ships?"
"As a passenger it's a great pleasure."
"What would you be if you weren't a passenger?"
"Well, what I mean is not on a ship that is equipped for passengers. Like that one."
"That one with the two big masts?"
"Yes. That there is Captain Skinner's ship. He's almost ready to leave port."
"Where is he going?"
"Usually travels for a year or two, searching out fine fabrics, spices, other items of interest that can be sold at the market."
"And how would life be different on his ship?"
"Well, not every man is of the same status. Some are treated no better than slaves."
"That doesn't sound right."
"No, but that's the way it is. It all depends on the captain of the ship."
"There was an older boy at the orphanage. He told us of going to sea and being a cabin boy. They... um," Johnny couldn't get the words out.
Jim helped, "Didn't treat him so fairly, huh?"
"Do you know what they do to a cabin boy?"
"I've known some."
"Really?"
"In San Fransisco, broke up a ring of slaveboys, destined just for that purpose."
"Really? What happened to them?"
"Now they live all over the country. That is those that didn't have a home to go back to."
Johnny was getting to like Jim more and more. Seems that everything he spoke of turned to gold and his hand was the touch that made it that way. Still, one question still stirred his interest.
"Where are we now?"
"This, young man, is the street I live on and over there, is the place I live at!"
"Fancy. Mighty fancy," Johnny replied.
They walked up to a rather elegant home, segregated from the others. Around the outside, a high wrought iron fence stood. They approached the gate.
"Go ahead. Open it."
"It won't open."
"Bend down and blow in the keyhole."
"Blow in the keyhole?"
"Try it, Johnny."
"Okay."
He does it.
"Push on the gate."
"Still doesn't open."
"Okay, now let me do it."
Johnny eyes up Jim's contours again, as he bends to blow in the keyhole.
"Now try it."
"It opens. Hey! How did you do that?"
"Science. It will only open with the properties of my breath blowing through it."
"What happens if you get a cold?"
"Um, didn't happen yet. Maybe someday I'll get locked out!"
They both passed inside the gate.
"Try the door."
"Do you have to blow it?" Johnny inquired.
Jim smiled, wanting to blow something else!
"No, but only my hand can open it."
Johnny tried and failed, whereas Jim's hand pressed it open, to admit them.
"Wow. I'm going to learn about science someday and invent somethings like these."
"First, let me take you upstairs and show you how science can do some magic on that grimy body of yours!"
Johnny's cock throbbed, following Jim's ass up the stairway.
%
"Where's Cal and Sean?"
"You have to move faster than that, Brae, to keep up with them. Um, sleep good?"
Walking over to near the stove, where JJ had a pot of coffee on, Braedon took him in his arms.
"Excuse me?"
"Hey, it's only a hug, JJ. I'm not going to like throw you on the floor, tear your clothes off and rape your ass!"
"Hmm... why not?"
Braedon broke his hold, slapping the back of JJ's head.
"I better 'not' catch you cheating on my little brother!"
"Hey, it's not like we're committed to each other or anything."
"Oh? From what I've seen last night, looks like my little brother claimed your ass, so you better change your tune, JJ."
Backing off on his original intentions, JJ replies, "Yeah, I guess I am kind of lucky to have Sean. He fucks so nice and deep!"
"Oh yes, JJ? You better find some more reasons for liking my little brother or this hand is going to find someplace nice and deep!"
"Owch!" JJ responds to Braedon's closed fist. He averts to, "Yeah, well Sean is a nice guy and I think we can really like each other."
Knowing JJ's sexually active background, Braedon accepts that as close as he's known JJ to ever come to being sincere.
"And for yourself? You let that youngster claim your ass and all. So, what's the story Brae?"
"Maybe you missed it last night, JJ, but I said this man is going to be a 'one man' man from now on," Braedon makes the claim about himself.
"He affected you that strongly, huh?"
"Yeah. You know what, JJ?"
"I don't know if I'm going to believe this, but humor me, Brae."
Giving JJ a look, he takes a sip of coffee, smiles and replies, "I love Cal."
"Same impression Sean got."
"Really? My little bro thought that?"
"Unless he was delirious. You know he fucked the hell outta my ass last night. I'm still sore!"
"Hee hee... I'll let you stand at the meeting today."
"Oh yeah. You know I forgot about that, Brae! How do you think they're going to take it?"
"With Marc Taylor on our side, we shouldn't have a problem."
"Yes, he does seem to favor us."
"Oh, forgot about something."
"What's that Brae?"
"Hee heee.. forgot that I promised him an evening with you."
"You fuckin' what?"
"Don't worry about it, JJ. That was before my little brother liked your ass so much!"
"Oh, so it's only my ass Sean likes, is it?"
"Nah. He likes more than that."
"Before last night, you didn't even know that we knew each other, Brae. How can you..."
Braedon almost chokes on his coffee, laughing at JJ's insinuations.
"Are you being real, JJ?"
"What makes you say that?"
"Do you think the new head of the Secret Service is going to let his little brother pair off with a... a schmuck?"
"What's a shamuck?"
"Schmuck.. rhymes with fuck and sort of synomous with a fucker!"
"Me a shamucker? Sean's the one that fucks!" Then, his hand pawing his ass, JJ adds, "And boy is he a helluva fucker!"
"That's why I love you, JJ."
"You love me? I thought you loved Cal?"
"I do I love you both. Probably Cal's passed you up by now, but all I can say is don't I catch you cheating on my little brother, because if I do...."
"I know.. I know.. don't worry. Tell you the truth, Brae. I like Sean a lot... no I..."
Braedon waited, through the long pause.
"I think we love each other."
"Well, thinking you love each other and absolutely knowing you love each other, are two different things, JJ."
"And which do you do, Brae?"
"I absolutely know that I love Cal." Then getting serious, something Braedon has never really done with things of this matter, adds, "I'm a one man man and he's the man!"
"And Cal's feelings?"
"I think he feels the same."
Then Braedon had to put up with JJ reiterating the same philosophy of Braedon's, spitting out the absolutes vs. the `thinkings'.
%
Jim had the grandest laughing, his hands on hips, almost crying to tears.
"What?" Johnny asked, as he stood there without any clothes on.
"Nothing. It just looks like you've been out in the sun too long with only your boxers on!"
Johnny looked down upon himself. Sure enough, most of his body looked a darkened brown, while his pubes spoke lily white. His face then turned crimson, when he noticed his hard slab.
"Um, can I put my pants on, to run out back?"
"Run out back?"
"Yeah, I gotta take a fitful piss."
Jim laughed, telling Johnny to follow him. That only made him harder.
"You lift this lid, piss your load and then pull that chain up there."
"Where's it going to go?"
"Down under the building and then out."
"What's that chain going to do?"
"Just do your pissing and you'll see."
"Okay."
Johnny tried like hell to piss. He looked around. Jim gave him his privacy, which he was glad of. He started to spritz. Almost all the way done, Jim came back.
"All finished? whoooooa.. what tha?"
Johnny stood there, a big 'o' on his lips.
"Golly, I'm awful sorry Jim."
Being about the same height, Johnny's stream had hit Jim point blank in the crotch area. He didn't even think to turn to face the urinal. His yellow water trailed down the front of Jim's pants, painting his shoes. The two stood there, Jim shaking his head.
Like nothing happened, Jim turned to the front of the urinal, saying, "Then you pull this chain."
A rather large roar, sent a torrent of water into the urinal, flushing away the sight and stench, except for what remained on Jim and the floor.
"You got something to wipe this up?"
"I'll get something."
"Um, Jim?"
"Yes, Johnny?"
"I have a suggestion."
"What's that?"
"Not to wear those shoes out of the room?"
Almost ready to step through the doorway, Jim agreed. However what a surprise, as Jim said, "I suppose I better leave these here, too."
Johnny couldn't keep his erection from not returning, as Jim began removing his pants, as well. Unlike himself, Jim had tight, white pants on underneath his outter pants.
"What are those?"
"What?"
"You don't have boxers on, like mine. They're all tight around your... your..."
"Oh," Jim said, then smiled. He figured he'd spell it out plainly, since they are man to man. "You mean they are tight around my cock and balls?"
Gulping, Johnny replied, "Yeah. Um, looks like you've gotta go too, Jim!"
Jim laughed, but it had been way back that Jim detected something astray with Johnny.
"No, don't have to piss, if that's what you mean," Jim toyed.
"No?" Johnny questioned, most likely knowing, but not bold enough to say.
"Nope," Jim replied, unbuttoning his shirt.
"What are you doing, Jim?"
"Well, I can't take you to your interview smelling like piss now, can I?"
Smiling, Jim stripped off his shirt. He knew that Johnny hadn't realized that his hand had reported to his crotch. The clincher came when Jim had left on only his tight, white briefs. He further teased the youth. Walking over till directly in front of Johnny, Jim reached down, took Johnny's unoccupied hand, pulled open the top of his briefs and dropped the hand in.
"Ooooooooooooohhhhhhhhh!" Johnny sighed.
Jim laughed his ass off, at the eighteen year old in shock.
"Go ahead, Johnny. Feel around in there. I know you want to."
"But... but..."
"My butt?" Jim continued the teasing, "Yeah, I know you want my butt, too, as much as I want to taste your sweet cock!"
"Whaaaaaaat!" Johnny cried out, but didn't move, as Jim fell to his knees.
His hand pulled right out of Jim's briefs, as the agent sunk down. Before Johnny could say anything, Jim was on his cock. At first, Johnny's hands tried moving Jim's head away from his pubes, but then, with the onslaught of immeasurable pleasure, his hands guided Jim's head towards and away from his pleasure zone.
"Ooooooooh golly does this feel good!"
Jim smiled, at hearing the eighteen year old praise the feeling. For himself, though, he busied his tongue, swirling it around the teen phallus. Then he popped off.
"How was that for a start?"
"I... I don't believe you did that, Jim!"
"Like it?"
"Sure as hell... oops, sorry.. sure felt great!"
"Sure as hell felt great, didn't it?"
"That's what I just said.. I mean. You don't care if I swear?"
"Nah. But more important than that, do you want to feel some more?"
"Do I? Sure as hell do, Jim!"
"Then first, let me show you how all this new-fangled indoor water system works."
"Um, Jim?"
"Yeah, Johnny?"
"I hope you don't think I'm being forward, but..."
"Oh yeah, my butt. I knew you want that too!"
"No, I didn't your...."
However, Jim acted too quickly for apologies, stripping down his tight, white briefs, taking them off and stashing them in a bin.
"I think we're the same size, if you care to try on some later, Johnny."
"I don't know Jim. You had an awfully big bulge, but I think mine is...."
Suddenly showing embarrassment, Jim finished his statement, "Oh, believe me, Johnny, you have a mighty big one there. Yep, you're going to fill out a pair of those briefs nicely, too."
%
Continued....
Copyright 2005 T. Luke McPhee This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.