The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
PaTRick'S LuCKy CHarM 06 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"I bet you think you were being funny, huh boy?"
Standing by the truck, Jason was the last to put his tools away. The others had finished, then wheeled their vehicles for transporting the cow manure all over the landscape of Granite Lake Country Club, to an out of the way place to wash them out.
"I don't know what you're talking about." And tired of hearing it all day long, he informs Max Pitt, "By the way Max I'm kind of tired of you calling me `boy'. I don't give a fuck what you call the others, but I've got pride in myself and I strongly suggest you start calling me Jason, or else."
"Or else what?" Max asks. Unknown to Jason, Max's pubes where tingling in a different way, like a brain of it's own, his pubes were pulsing with more of a beat since Jason lashed out with his emotions, stating his position rather than bowing down to accepting things the way they were.
Stabbing the ground with his pitchfork, Jason is not afraid to state, "I'm the hardest worker and you know it. I hardly think you're the type of person that lets a guy slide. I mean, I delivered more loads of fertilizer than all the other guys put together." it didn't amount to that, a little less, but still more than the other muscled dudes under Max`s direction, but Jason's muscles sure felt that way.
Max was admiring this `boy' more and more. Throughout the day he had a feeling Jason was different from the others. Even the two college guys didn't have as much spunk as this eighteen year old. "So, what do you do after work?"
"Why?"
"Oh no special reason. Well after work I generally head over to the club bar for a beer."
"I'm not sure yet what's happening. It's my first day of work and frankly Max, for the amount of work I do and the amount of pay I'm getting I think I might look elsewhere for a job."
Like Alvarez, Max Pitt had a payroll budget and he was a few dollars from reaching the maximum. He didn't offer the other guys working for him, but to Jason he asks, "How about grabbing a beer with me down at the bar?"
It's one thing Jason had thought about, even communicated with Patrick, one of those talks down by Tony's lake while skipping stones, drinking beer. It's one of the amenities that seemed to come with a guy's first year at college. But not wanting Max to know he's never done it, he replies, "Yeah I could use a beer after the hot day in the sun." Ocurring to him, "You buying?"
"First round," Max thought. Then in his own devious way thought, after that, the second, third, fourth is on you!
Then music to Max's ears, "Where can I wash off?"
Even though Max wore his sweat-soaked muscle shirt home and showered there, he did have an alternative. "One of the bungalows. I know the guy who lives in it for the summer. He won't mind us showering there."
"Cool!" Jason said, pulling the pitchfork out of the muck and tossing it on the truck. Then as an experiment, his own testing, he says, "Um, I left my gloves at the last spot we dumped. Why don't you wash out my wheelbarrow Max and by the time I'm back we'll both be ready to go?"
Max agreed, but then thought he was going to have to watch his step with this kid. But then again, him being over thirty, it felt kind of awesome, his pubes voicing his opinion of how hot it felt taking orders from a youthful dude.
And as Jason walked back to any' spot on the property he felt up the gloves in his pocket, a hefty, toothy smile on his face, thinking of what a hot' summer this is going to be!
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"Um, I've got to be ga-going," Patrick said, steadying himself as he rose up from the cushy chair. The more he thought about it, the less interest he had, actually wanting to be home with Uncle Pat, since there would be few days left where the two could have dinner together, between his job, paling around with Jason and sleep!
"I really don't think you're in any condition to drive home." Salv steadied Patrick with his hands, both holding Patrick by the elbows to keep him from keeling over.
I'll make it okay, Patrick replied, almost losing his balance, both hands then pressed against Salv's chest to steady himself.
"Feels good," Salv supplied a wide grin, looking down between the two of them, Patricks white fingers almost disappeared in Salvs chest rug.
"Sorry," Patrick says, when he realizes where he's placed his hands. Then noticing Salv not paying attention to him, but rather where his hands `were', Patrick replaces them and with no regrets, moves them outwards, following the curvature of Salv's pecs, then dropping them.
"Why? I'm not!" Salv replies, thinking there may be a flicker of hope left yet.
"I've really got to go." Then, when the door swings open, the first to enter is some guy, followed by his friend. "Jason? Oh good. You can drive me home."
"What happened to you man?" Jason asks, but it's Salv whom Jason's eyes are making a beeline for.
"I had three... no four.. I don't know, but I kind of had a lot of beer."
"I'll say." Then to the guy who was showing Patrick around, Jason says, "Patrick, he can't take more than one without feeling a little lightheaded."
Outspoken, Max addresses Salv, "Hey, can we use your shower?"
Really wanting to, Jason reneged on Max's offer, giving his first dibs to his best friend, "I'd really like to, but I better get Patrick on home."
"I'm sure there will be a next time," Max replies as he pulls his tank top off overhead.
How Jason wanted to touch that hot sweaty, hairy chest, see just how hard those pointy nips were, but most of all have a crash collision in the shower, his front to Max's back, but for right now Patrick and he still had a solid connection and he felt obligated. "Yeah," Jason responded to Max's offer. He even showed some encouragement, "I'm sure everyday we'll get hot and sweaty like this!"
Placing Patrick's arm over his shoulder, Jason put his arm around his back. Instead of stepping off the porch, Patrick fell, Jason strong enough catch him. All the time they did oral in high school, fooled around with the 69' position, none of the times did he feel so amorous as now, keeping Patrick from falling on his face with his arms around him in a bear hug. Before he hefted Patrick, resuming the drunk-walk' position, Jason did think on it a second, about kissing Patrick, but it didn't materialize, instead some dude walking by, saying a quick `hi', then helping himself to opening the screen door of the bungalow.
"That's him," Patrick said as Jason commandeered the golf cart.
"Who?" Jason questioned Patrick, literally putting him in the seat of the cart.
"Salv's friend."
"Friend huh?" Jason left it at that with Patrick, but on his own he thought about what fun the two were going to have, not sure yet whether Max would giving or receiving. As he drove off, Jason asks, "Tell me, that guy you were with, what was he doing in the room stripped down with you?" After no answer, Jason asks, "Huh?" He lifted his foot off the brake, proceeding towards Patricks uncles place. Patrick was out like a light.
Reaching the house, Jason resumed helping Patrick inside.
"Where are we?"
"Home," Jason said as he held Patrick around the waist with one arm while opening the door with the other. He yells, "Hey Uncle Pat, you here?" Then to himself, "I guess Uncle Pat's not here!" Nevertheless, Jason hauled Patrick inside.
Lethargic, but still coherent, Patrick moans, "Oh I'm soooo tired."
"Yeah well we're about to remedy that!" Jason replies as he releases Patrick, making his bod bounce on the bed. He stood there for a moment and just looked. His intentions were maybe of going back to the club and seeing where the threeway went, but he cast his thoughts aside, "Oh what the hell!
"C'mon you drunk!" he joked, going to it, unbuttoning Patrick's shirt. Then mulling over their respective jobs, "Great. You get to dress up and walk around all day while I work like a dog and sweat like a hog!"
Spreading Patrick's shirt, Jason hesitated a moment, running the back of his hand from midchest to abs. He smiled. "What a shame," he said to himself. Then, peeling the shirt off one shoulder, he turned his blond friend over on his side, passed the shirt around Patrick's back and then pulled it free of the other arm. He tossed it over the back of a computer chair.
Smiling, Jason readjusted the little gold-tinted, circular metal attached to the gold-toned chain. Almost daily, since first meeting, whenever the two found an intimate time together, Patrick would often read one side, as Jason did now, "Be it, wherever you go," then turning it over, "good fortune will follow". He placed it perfectly on the small bed of blond chest fuzz and smiled. Next, he gazed up at Patrick sleeping. "You're so beautiful," he sweetly said like talking to `Patrick-awake' and rubbed the back of his hand down a cheek, scratchy against Patrick's teen stubble, down the side of his neck, against his flawlessly white skin. Patrick was very special to him. Leaning upwards he dragged his bod over pubes and stomach, giving his dear friend a sweet kiss. Sleeping, Jason didn't get a return response. "How emotional!" he joked, adding a little giggle.
Scooting down on the bed he went for Patrick's belt. Unbuckling it and unbuttoning the jeans, past memories jogged Jason's mind. It was like the last few years all over again, each unveiling the others jewel case. Only this time Jason was going solo, reaching behind his pal's back, pulling the black pants down between ass and mattress. "Way to go!" he commented to himself when the briefs got caught up in the stripping of Patrick's pants.
Unlike the other times, it didn't quite turn Jason on, not having Patrick responsively awake, so after bringing the pants down to his ankles, Jason smiled, thinking of how beautiful Patrick looked. It's at this point he switched back to his original idea of heading back to the country club. Before depantsing Patrick, he untied the black shoes, removing them and the socks, followed my the dress slacks and socks. "There. All done," he said, adding the final touch, throwing the other half of the comforter over Patrick's bod.
With that out of the way Jason recalled his next plan of action. But he figured he better do something about his sweat-soaked tee sticking to his skin. It was a spacious home, but for whatever reason only contained one jon. So, stripping down, Jason walked in the buff to the jon, turned the shower on and then ran his hand under the water to test for hot and cold. He sighed long and deep as his bod was finally treated to the warm, soothing jets. "Ooooooh fuck does this feel great!"
Two minutes later he hears Patrick's Uncle Pat yell from the other side of the closed door, "Hey Patrick, when you're done in there come on out. I want you to meet somebody!"
"I'm not Patrick! It's me... Jason!" Nobody answered. So, he went about his business, rinsing off the last slimy places on his bod, turned the faucets off and grabbed a towel off a bar as he stepped out. Wiping off he stretches the towel over his shoulder blades, shimmying it down to his ass and drying off. Bringing it around to the front he towels off arms, then pats it against his dark brown, hairy chest, slides it down, then thoroughly dries his pubes. "Oh man!" he exclaims, closing his eyes and returning to the bungalow.
"Patrick? You going to be in there all night?"
Again Jason explained, to no avail. After running the towel over each foot he hung it up, wringing it through the towel rack. He looks around. "Oh shit!" Jason discovers he's left every stitch of clothing in the bedroom. "Oh well... what the hell!" he shrugs his shoulders, reaching for the same towel. Placing it around his waist he tucks one corner into the other. "What the hell is this?" he questions. Looking into the mirror he discovers the towel isn't long enough even to close the gap. "Uncle Pat you're so cheap!" He readjusts the towel so the opening shows off mostly his thigh. However on the way to the door it loosens. "Dammit!" Jason curses, picking the towel up off the floor. He knows he's never going to make it, dashing from the jon to the bedroom, so he owned up to facing the facts, holding the towel over the place which counted the most!
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Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee
This story 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.....