This story is entirely fictional, and any resemblances to actual persons are completely coincidental. Actual locations are mentioned, and are used for 'background' only.
'Phalen - Finding Happiness' Chapter fourteen
by Roy Reinikainen
Dustin found that the hand holding the telephone receiver was shaking. A very upset Hugh Benford was on the line. Dustin had never known how to handle someone who was bigger than him, and even on the telephone the angry baseball player was intimidating. Dustin usually got around his being so short and slightly effeminate by putting on an aggressive, cynical facade. It was an act, and usually worked when he was facing someone. The act was useless on the telephone. He knew he sounded like a kid.
'Damned voice,' he thought to himself, as he tried to sound older. 'If only I had Curt's voice . . . or his body, then I'd be able to handle myself and wouldn't always feel so inadequate.'
"I tell you, Dustin. Both Ken 'n me, we're being followed. We both have seen the same guy . . . real official looking sort . . . hanging around the complex. He tries to look like he's not paying attention to us whenever we look toward him, but he follows us. I saw him outside my apartment this morning, and the killer is, we both saw him in the coach's office this afternoon after practice. The door was closed, but there's a window in the office that looks out into the locker room. The coach didn't look too happy, I tell you."
"Now . . . I'm not too happy. And that's not good for you." He let the threat hang in the air before continuing, his voice even more demanding. "What's going on, Dustin? Did you tell someone you're selling us stuff? If the school finds out what we're doing, our baseball careers are finished." His voice cracked as he tried to go on.
"You did this to us, Dustin. You're the reason we're in trouble. And what are you doing to Carl? We saw you talking to him. He even told us you gave him something to help with his torn-up shoulder. Now, suddenly, we hardly ever see him. Did you give him something too . . . like you did us? Have you got him hooked too?"
Before Dustin could say anything, Benford started yelling once more, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You little son of a bitch. You're ruining us!"
"Well, let me tell you, if we get in trouble, you're going to as well. In fact, with the way I'm feeling right now, I feel like I could come over to your house and rip that smug smile right off your face and stuff one of your foul cigarettes up your faggot ass. You always try to impress us with how tough you are." Hugh heaved a sound that was half-way between a laugh and a cry before he slammed down the telephone, instantly regretting what he'd said, but feeling trapped at the same time.
He groaned to himself, rubbing his eyes and wondering if he needed another pill. 'I can't need one this soon. I've already had a couple today.' He leaned forward with a groan, resting his head on his folded arms. 'The little fucker has got us by the balls . . . and he knows it. I can talk rough all I want, but we need him if we want our supply of pills each week.'
He absently chewed on a thumbnail and then stood, almost knocking over the chair in which he'd been sitting. 'No one's going to control me! I've been blaming him for getting me started on the drugs.' He snorted a laugh and looked at his shaking hands. 'It wasn't only him. I have to take responsibility.'
He walked into his bedroom and fumbled with the bottle, swallowing another pill, his third for the day, hating himself as he swallowed and then threw the bottle across the room. 'I got myself into this mess. I'm going to have to get myself out.' He grinned wickedly. 'And, I'm going to take that smug son of a bitch down with me.' He knuckled his eyes as he flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. 'I can't imagine being dependent on him or someone like him for the rest of my life.' He punched the pillow in frustration and then turned onto his stomach and tried not to sob. Emotions which had been threatening to overwhelm him for some weeks were becoming more difficult to control as each day passed.
He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow and looked at his cell phone sitting on the nightstand. He bit his lip, and then seemed to reach a decision.
An hour later, he and his friend, Ken Morrison trudged into the Athletic Complex, standing close to one another for support. He had called Ken and told him he couldn't go on, being at Dustin's mercy. He wanted his old life back. He wanted baseball. He wanted to have his friends back . . . as well as his family. He knew Ken felt the same. Nevertheless, they had argued with one another, calling each other names. At one point, Ken had hung up, only to call back a couple of minutes later with an apology. They had talked about their future and their friendship. He had broken down and cried, and finally Ken had given in.
He looked to his right, a last chance for either of them to back out. Ken gave him a jerky nod, and after taking a deep breath he knocked on the door to the coach's office. The coach looked up, raising his eyebrows slightly at the sight of the two men standing in his doorway.
"Uh, coach, we need to talk to you about something important. Do you have some time?" The coach gave them a solemn nod and asked them to close the door.
Greg looked up from setting the dining table as Phalen walked into the room. It had been a few days since they had seen one another and Jeff had reported Phalen was doing much better. Still, Greg thought, Phalen was a long way from being his normal self.
He gave Greg a wan smile and a weak hug as he passed, and then kissed Jeff on the cheek. It was all done as if he were on automatic pilot, actions taken without really thinking about them.
At least the bloodshot eyes had disappeared, as well as the dark circles under the eyes, and the disheveled hair.
Greg sat opposite Phalen and studied him for a moment, not sure how to approach this new and somewhat startling person. "Still not getting enough sleep?" He reached across the table and rested his hand on top of Phalen's. After a moment, Phalen clasped his hand and tried to grin.
"I'm doing better." He squeezed Greg's hand. "At least I no longer look like something the cat threw up. Thanks for asking. I guess Jeff told you some of what is bothering me?" Greg nodded slowly.
"Some. He told me you had found out a couple of your teammates were buying and taking illegal drugs."
Phalen nodded, and then rubbed his eyes. He looked up and saw Jeff quietly take his seat, listening. "I talked to the coach the other day and told him what I knew." He bowed his head before continuing. "The coach told me he knew something was going with them and then told me the police spoke to him before I did. Since then, neither of the guys are at practice or in school. All the rest of the team is worried, but the coach isn't talking, and as far as anyone else knows, I don't know any more than they do. The lack of information is easier for me though, 'cause I know something of what's going on. The rest of the team is in the dark . . . totally."
"First, I felt bad because I didn't know what to do. I knew that whatever I did someone was going to get hurt. At least now I can hope that Ken and Hugh are getting some help. The coach said he'd make sure they would."
"Then you should be feeling much better," Greg ventured, surprised when Phalen didn't immediately agree.
"It's not over yet. I'm guessing that the guy who sold them whatever it was they were taking is still on the loose, probably hurting someone else." He took a deep breath and flicked a glance from Jeff to Greg. "They still need to figure out where he was getting the stuff he was selling. I've seen guys I'd bet to be police all over the place, asking questions. I even had to tell them whatever I saw. I figured something like that might happen so I spoke with Dad to see if he needed to be with me. He's all worried about his job, so we didn't talk too long. Now, I've got him worrying about me too." He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. "I hate that. He's got enough on his mind with work and Brad and stuff, without having to think about me too."
He heaved a great sigh and squeezed Greg's hand once more before turning to Jeff and grinning. "Let's eat, big man, your brother and I are starved."
"Speaking of your father." Phalen looked up.
"I don't know if Jeff told you that I'm experiencing my own bit of trouble at work." Phalen set his fork down, his expression growing more serious. He shook his head, glancing at Jeff for a moment before turning back to Greg. "It's a funny thing." Greg gave Phalen a grim smile. "My problem involves drugs too."
Jeff saw Phalen clutch the napkin on his lap as Greg continued speaking.
"Jeff recommended that I visit with your father to get some advice. Do you think he'd be too busy to see me? It sounds like he's got plenty going on already."
Phalen's eyes were large as he turned from Greg to Jeff and then back to Greg. "You're not in trouble are you? I mean, if you need Dad."
Greg reached out and rested his hand on Phalen's once more. "Easy, Phalen. Things are okay. I just want to talk to him. It's not a big deal."
Phalen was behaving like a cornered animal. "If you think you need an attorney it's a big deal." He glanced from Greg to Jeff, and then turned his head slightly and stared into the distance.
Jeff stepped into the silence. "Greg." He gave his brother a meaningful glance. "Why don't you go into the office and give Larry a call and find out if he can see you now. The number's on my desk. I think he should be home." Greg caught the significance of Jeff's suggestion and scooted his chair back, placing his napkin on the table, his dinner barely touched. As he left the room with an uneasy backward glance, he saw Jeff had reached out to take Phalen's hand.
"You know something, Phalen," Jeff murmured. "Something about what's going on with Greg at work. That's what's continuing to bother you, isn't it?" He squeezed Phalen's hand in an attempt to draw his attention back to the conversation."
"No. I don't know anything." Phalen withdrew his hand and sat back in his chair, twisting his napkin.
Both men looked up when Greg walked back into the room. Phalen quickly looked away and didn't see the silent communication between the two brothers. Jeff barely shook his head, asking Greg not to ask how things were going.
"Uh, guys. Larry's home. He has invited me over. So . . . um . . ." He glanced from Phalen to Jeff. "That's where I'll be." He turned around and walked out of the house, only turning to look back, once he was in the courtyard. Jeff was holding Phalen's hand across the table and leaning forward with an intense expression.
"Okay, Phalen." Jeff murmured, taking his hand. "Look at me." Phalen reluctantly looked up and then glanced toward the now-empty courtyard. He bit his lip as Jeff continued to study him.
"Okay," Jeff repeated. "I can accept that you don't know anything, to use your words. But you suspect something, don't you? Something that involves Greg?" He tightened his grip on Phalen's hand, a silent demand for an answer. Phalen nodded and began to speak slowly.
"The guys I told you about; the ones who were taking drugs?" Jeff nodded, linking his fingers with Phalen's. "I told the coach what I knew was going on." Another nod. "I didn't tell him everything."
Jeff frowned slightly, resembling his brother. "What do you mean . . . not everything?"
Phalen heaved a sigh. "When I heard them talking about getting their drugs, I knew they were getting the stuff from Dustin . . . the creepy guy I told you about."
"Go on," Jeff urged, already guessing where the narrative would end. He mentally kicked himself. 'It should have been obvious,' he thought. 'Phalen thinks Greg's responsible.'
"Go on," he urged once again.
"I heard the guys saying that Dustin told them he was getting the drugs from the new doctor at the Athletics Clinic . . . the one with the foreign accent . . . the one who had just moved to this country. The guys said he moved here 'cause he had to, something to do with something bad that had happened wherever he had come from."
Phalen looked up, surprised that Jeff didn't seem to be upset. He swallowed and then continued. "I went over to the Clinic and asked around." There was another pause, longer this time. "Jeff, Greg is the only doctor over there with an accent. I checked at the regular student clinic too. They don't have any doctors there who have an accent. I don't know what to think. I don't want to believe Greg would do something like that, but now he's wanting to talk to Dad about some problems he's having at work . . ."
"Jeff, I don't know what else to think. I thought that maybe the guys were just making everything up. I want to believe that. I . . . I, love Greg. I love that the two of you are growing close. I don't want anything to end that."
"Is that why you've been silent . . . because you were afraid of what I'd say?"
Phalen bowed his head and nodded. "Some. I also didn't want to say anything until I knew for certain. I didn't want to ask Greg and then find out it wasn't him Dustin got the drugs from. I want to believe that he'd never do something like that. I couldn't ask him. I couldn't talk to you 'cause . . . 'cause." His voice broke. "I didn't want you to hate me."
Jeff took Phalen's hand in both of his. "Lover, why would you think I would hate you because of something you think Greg is doing? You've done everything you could think of to verify the story you heard. The only thing you didn't do was trust both Greg and me. You could have come to us the first moment you suspected something and told one of us. You wouldn't have had to go through weeks of doubt."
"You don't hate me?"
"Of course not."
"I'm acting like a kid." Jeff stood and walked around the dining table, wrapping Phalen in an embrace and leaning forward, kissed his neck.
"Some, but that doesn't mean I don't love you." Phalen's bowed head and slumped shoulders still seemed to carry the weight of what he'd told Jeff. "I only wish you'd have had enough trust in Greg or me to tell us your fears. It wouldn't have meant you were accusing anyone, only telling us what you'd heard."
Jeff scooted a chair close to Phalen and sat down, taking his hand as they sat in silence for a few moments. Finally, Phalen looked up to see Jeff's understanding grin.
"Lover, there is more involved in what you've been experiencing than waiting to know the facts before speaking. There's even more involved than trusting Greg or me." Jeff took a deep breath. "Phalen, I don't call you, lover because I think it's a cute nickname. You have seen me . . . and accepted me, when I was at my worst. You have been strong for me when I didn't think I had the strength to go on." He squeezed Phalen's hand, noticing the warmth . . . and the strength in those hands. "You need to accept that I am here for you when you are facing something that seems too large for you to cope with."
"The two of us have a relationship. That means neither of us should have to face things alone. Phalen . . . please . . . always . . . share your fears with me, just as you share your joys." He grinned as he saw Phalen's eyes become watery.
"Lover . . . you have led what I would call, a charmed life. Very few people your age have been as fortunate. You have a wonderful father, and whether you think so or not, your mother loved you too, I'm sure of it. You're brilliant, talented, athletic . . . handsome." He tilted Phalen's face up using a finger under his chin, ignoring the track of a single tear over Phalen's cheek. "But, during the past few weeks, I've felt as if you've shut me out of your life. I'm here for you, Phalen, just as you've always been for me. The same is true of your father, and Greg. Don't shut any of us out because of some imagined consequence of telling us your thoughts. I . . . no, we, we all love you."
Phalen leaned close and wrapped Jeff in a tight embrace, silently crying on his shoulder. He tried to say something but was unable to. Jeff squeezed tightly, silently showing his understanding.
Greg was still thinking about Phalen's behavior when Larry opened the front door to his house. "Nice outfit," Larry commented with a smile and flash of dimples, gesturing to Greg's burgundy colored pants and shirt, the standard uniform for University Athletic Clinic doctors.
Greg made a face. "This color makes my complexion look even more washed out. I'm like Jeff. I'll never have a tan, unlike your son." He shook Larry's hand and walked into the house. "Speaking of Phalen . . ."
Larry gestured for him to have a seat, taking one opposite in the large vaulted living room. "How's the young man doing? The last I saw him, he was looking and sounding pretty miserable. He told me he'd become aware of a couple of his teammates taking drugs. He said he was talking to me because he didn't want to say or do anything that would get him into trouble with those players, or jeopardized his scholarship." Larry sighed. "From his appearances, I think he should have spoken with me . . . or someone, earlier."
Greg silently nodded agreement. "He's looking better, though surprisingly, you may see as much of him as I. There are some days I don't see either him or Jeff. Many times, I feel like I live over there all by myself because all of our schedules are so different. Anyhow, tonight he seemed to be doing pretty good until I asked him if he thought you might be able to talk to me about a problem I'm having at work. His eyes got big." Greg smiled. "It was as if I'd asked him if he thought you might be a candidate for sex-change surgery . . . or something." He seemed pleased at Larry's startled expression. "Then, when I mentioned my problem involved drugs, he seemed to freeze in his seat. We'd hardly begun dinner, but Jeff quickly got me out of there, by telling me I should give you a call. I'm guessing, they're having a good visit right now."
Greg absently ran his hand over the smooth surface of the sofa's leather upholstery. "Phalen's got to get stuff off his mind. He should have learned from Jeff's experiences that one shouldn't hold everything in. Friends and family are there to help."
Larry sat back, stretched his arms across the back of the sofa facing Greg, and bowed his head, thinking about what he had just heard. "Phalen has always been like that. He's so bright when it comes to most things, we tend to forget he has another side. It's disconcerting to see his insecurity surface . . . probably as much for him as it is for the rest of us. He wants to be perfect, but sometimes he's unable to live up to his own expectations. It's rough, because whenever that happens, he tends to think of himself as a failure." Larry shook his head and then looked at Greg and grinned. "I would imagine he's somehow come to the conclusion that whatever it is he knows, will somehow hurt his and Jeff's relationship. That'd be something he'd do . . . get things so twisted around there wouldn't be any way for him to figure a way out of his predicament." He shook his head and gave Greg a crooked grin. "Jeff'll get to the bottom of it."
The two men sat in silence for a few moments, each mulling over what had just been said. "Speaking of predicament," Larry finally said, causing Greg to look up. "You mentioned having one of your own." Greg nodded and took a deep breath.
Larry studied Greg as he told him about all the things going on at the clinic. Watching him, and listening to him, was like watching and listening to Jeff . . . only different. Greg wasn't as serious as his brother. Even in the middle of describing what could be a job-threatening problem, he still was able to see the light side of the situation. Where Jeff would smile at something, Greg would laugh. Where Jeff tended to be melancholy by nature, Greg seemed to be playful. Still, they were remarkably alike. Their soft voice, their accent, they way they moved, and their frown. It was almost as if they were twins.
He found himself captivated by Greg's accent, his different way of saying things, and looking at his surroundings. So much so, he had to ask Greg to repeat himself a couple times. When Greg became apologetic, thinking Larry was having a difficult time understanding him because of his accent, Larry had to correct him.
"No, it's not your accent. I love that. For a moment, I was thinking of you and Jeff being brothers . . . how much you're alike, and at the same time, how much you're different."
Larry sat quietly for a few moments after Greg finished his story. Finally, he looked up to find Greg studying him. "I agree with your assessment," Larry concluded. "From what you've told me, I don't think you're going to face any legal problems. Still, it's wise to take precautions. If it's alright with you, I'll contact your supervisor and tell her that you've retained me to watch out for your rights, not because you think they're going to run roughshod over you, but because you're unfamiliar with the legal system in this country, and want to make sure all your bases are covered."
"Bases? Isn't that part of Phalen's game?" Greg looked genuinely perplexed. Larry chuckled and explained himself only to have Greg give him a strange look.
"You're getting back at me for that sex change comment, aren't you?" He gave Larry stern look and then began laughing, patting him on the back as they both stood and walked to the front door.
Larry paused at the door, noticing Greg was slightly taller than Jeff, and his eyes were the deepest blue he had ever seen . . . even bluer than Phalen's. He tore his gaze away from Greg's eyes, intensely aware that Greg was aware of the scrutiny. He cleared his throat. "Um . . . Let's meet again soon so I can bring you up to date with any information I'm able to get. This Dustin fellow surely must be aware that he's playing with fire, trying to frame a doctor."
Greg nodded agreement and turned toward the door. "Well, I'd better get out of your hair. I imagine Jeff and Phalen have pretty much settled things by now." He was slightly surprised when Larry rested his arm on his shoulder as he held the door open.
"I'll take care of things for you, Greg, and remember, you're never in my hair." He gave Greg an encouraging grin and waved through the large windows in the living room and then turned out the room's lights. Greg had no sooner stepped onto Jeff's driveway than a convertible sports car pulled up next to him. The driver turned off the car's lights and got out of the car, stepping into a lengthy embrace, illuminated by the nearby streetlight.
Larry watched a moment longer, until he finally turned away and headed down the hall to his home office, mildly disturbed at having seen Greg in the arms of another man. He softly snorted to himself and shook his head as he sat down behind his desk and rotated his chair from side to side. 'Listen to me! Why should I feel this way about seeing him and Curt embrace?'
"Curt!" Greg grimaced and covered his eyes in embarrassment as Curt stepped out of his car and approached him wearing a bright smile.
"Good to see you too," Curt laughed, stepping into a welcome embrace. "I didn't expect you to be standing in the drive waiting for me." He studied Greg for a moment and then teased. "Don't tell me you were standing out here waiting for someone else." He gave Greg a lingering kiss, one he had been thinking about all afternoon, surprised when Greg didn't stiffen in fear one of the neighbors might be watching.
"That's nice," he murmured, returning for another kiss. "Very nice," he amended with a grin when they parted. "You're so nice and warm." He nibbled on one of Greg's earlobes causing him to suppress a giggle.
"Don't tell me . . . ticklish earlobes," he ventured, kissing Greg's neck as he shook his head.
"No, it's just exciting to be behaving like this, outdoors. If Larry's watching, he probably thinks I'm the original trollop." Curt moved back and gave him a confused look. Before he could comment, Greg continued, burying his face in the crook of Curt's neck, pulling him close.
"I forgot about our date entirely. I'm sorry."
Curt leaned into the feeling of Greg's lips against his neck. "S'okay. The kiss and hug is what I was really looking forward to . . . that and spending some time with you." He held Greg at arm's length and studied him closely. "You look totally ragged out. Is that stuff still going on at work?"
Greg nodded, wrapping an arm around Curt's waist as they headed for the house. "Yeah, it's better than a couple days ago, but it's not over. In fact, that's why I was visiting Larry." He nodded in the general direction of Larry's house, and saw the living room lights go dark. "He's making sure, 'all the bases are covered.'" Greg grinned at Curt's expression. "Those are his words, not mine."
They closed the courtyard door and walked into the darkened house. 'At least Jeff and Phalen aren't still in the dining room,' he thought to himself. 'I hope they got things settled. All this tension is getting to be too much for me.'
The two men walked through the darkened house to Greg's room, passing the open door to Jeff's bedroom. The light in his bathroom was visible beneath the door and Greg could hear the shower running and the guys talking.
"This is what you need, a long hot shower." Curt began kneading the muscles of his shoulders. Greg hummed with pleasure at the firm touch. "Maybe, we could take one together. Hmm? I could massage your . . . shoulders." He finished with a smile in his voice.
"I know something even better." He quickly looked over his shoulder as he felt Curt pause. "Sorry. Nothing can beat the feeling of your hands, but . . ." He turned to face Curt. "Have you ever had a sauna? Back home everyone takes one, two or three times a week." He wrapped his arms around Curt's waist and pulled him close and murmured close to his ear.
"That's why we Finns are so . . . mellow." He cupped one of Curt's buttocks and squeezed gently at the same time he thrust himself against the firm mound of Curt's slacks.
"Wanna be mellow with me, Mr. Sullivan?" He added in an encouraging voice. "We'll be naked, and we can massage one another's . . . shoulders." Curt's eyes lit up.
"You just said the magic word!" Curt stepped back and immediately began to strip, draping his clothes over the back of a chair. "I'm assuming you've got one of those saunas in this house." He paused to look up and waited for an answer as he was about ready to step out of his shorts. When Greg nodded, Curt dropped his shorts in a puddle and motioned for Greg to hurry, fondling his stiffening erection as he watched Greg step out of his own clothes. In a moment, both men were naked, facing one another, their erections bobbing in anticipation.
"C'mon!" Greg reached for Curt's hand and led him into the hallway leading to the sauna.
Both men paused a moment to greet Jeff, who had left the shower and was now sitting cross legged on the middle of the bed with the newspaper spread before him. Phalen continued to talk from the bathroom.
Jeff was wearing his favorite pair of burgundy colored running shorts and yellow shirt. Since he was dressed, it appeared he and Phalen were about to leave the house . . . good news as far as Greg was concerned. Having sex with Curt was still new enough to him that he didn't want his brother listening.
'Alright,' he admitted to himself with a chagrined smile. 'I'm loud. I'm enjoying myself!'
Jeff looked up and smiled brightly, nodding a greeting to Curt, who playfully stood behind Greg and groped his butt as Jeff talked. Greg gave him a mock-scowl, but moved closer as he spoke to his brother.
"Are things okay," Greg murmured, nodding toward the bathroom where he could hear Phalen speaking.
"It looks to me as if things between you two are very good," Jeff quipped, nodding to his brother and Curt, and laughing when Curt nodded vigorously and began teasing Greg's nipples at the same time he pushed his growing erection against Greg's butt. "Things are better between Phalen and me too . . . some," Jeff added in a more sober tone.
"Good." Greg nodded and led Curt away only to reappear a moment later.
Again, Jeff looked up to see his brother, this time standing at the door pointing to his erection and smiling brightly as he wagged it from side to side and pumped his arms in the air giving a silent cheer, as if in victory. Jeff burst out laughing, and Greg departed with a smile and saucy wave.
"What are you laughing about?" Phalen shut off the bathroom light and walked into the bedroom, slipping his burgundy colored shirt over his head and tucking it into his shorts at the waist.
"The guys are using the sauna." Phalen turned to look over his shoulder toward the open bedroom door. Jeff continued. "Greg wanted to make sure I saw his erection." Phalen didn't comment. Instead, he reached out and helped Jeff off the bed.
"C'mon, big man." He was anxious to be away. "I'm feeling all better since our talk and I wanna run to get rid of some of my energy." He grabbed Jeff's hand and pulled him toward the front door of the house.
"Ahhhh, Phalen," Jeff theatrically groaned. "I thought we were going for a nice walk. You know I can't keep up with you when you're running."
"A walk!" Phalen looked over his shoulder and grinned. "Why walk when we can run? I wanna get all sweaty. I want you to get all sweaty.* He nudged Jeff with his hip at the same time he ran the open palm of his hand over the swell of Jeff's butt.
Jeff spoke in a hopeful voice. "Ya think you might want to wrestle when we get back?" Phalen nodded, his smile brightening at the same time the pressure he was applying to Jeff's buttocks grew firmer. Jeff leaned close to Phalen, murmuring in his ear. "I think I'd like to lick your sweaty body clean and then suck you dry." He nibbled on Phalen's earlobe, flexing the muscles of his butt beneath Phalen's hands. "Sound good?"
Phalen slowly nodded his head and leaned into Jeff's embrace. "Ummmm. As long as you can pump my hole full too." He opened his eyes and gave Jeff a mischievous look. "I love the part about being stripped naked and you liking all the sweat off me." He tenderly pinched one of Jeff's nipples. "Do I get to do the same to you?" He groped Jeff's erection, adjusting it so it lay flat against his belly, held in place by the elastic waistband of his running shorts.
Phalen made a disgusted sound, deep in his throat and then tugged down the front of Jeff's shorts, freeing his penis. "That's better," he cooed, close to Jeff's ear. He ran a thumb over the end, spreading the slick precum over the head. The large amounts of precum Jeff produced was one of the things he especially enjoyed about Jeff.
"So good," Jeff murmured, close to Phalen's ear. "Then what do you want to do?"
Jeff managed to tug the back of Phalen's shorts down, exposing the smooth skin of his butt, dark against the bright yellow jock. Phalen shivered at the feather-like touch of Jeff's fingertips against his bare skin. "I want you to shoot deep inside me," he murmured, next to Jeff's ear, a moment before he kissed a line over Jeff's jaw, ending at his mouth and waiting tongue.
The evening run was forgotten as they both stripped out of their clothes. Phalen leaned over the dresser and spread his legs as Jeff knelt behind him, spreading his butt cheeks and began to lick his hole. "C'mon, Jeff." Phalen's voice was rough with excitement.
"Slide your dick up my hole." He pushed himself back, tightening his sphincter on Jeff's tongue. "C'mon, I wanna feel your jiz fill my hole. When you pull out, I wanna feel it begin to run down my leg." Once again, he tried to trap Jeff's tongue with his sphincter.
Jeff sat back on his heels and squeezed both of Phalen's butt cheeks, his erection pulsing between his legs. "I like watching my sperm ooze out of your hole." His voice was raspy with emotion. "All thick and white." He ran his tongue in a broad swath over one of Phalen's butt cheeks, and then over his hole. "Coming out of your hairless butt hole." He groaned as he once again buried his face between Phalen's cheeks.
"You gonna shoot a huge load in me tonight, big man?" Phalen looked over his shoulder as Jeff stood and positioned himself.
Jeff paused a moment with the head of his cock barely stretching Phalen's butt hole. He liked how Phalen would impale himself, sliding down the length in one move. He wasn't disappointed, and only a moment later, his pubes were brushing Phalen's skin and he was free to begin.
"C'mon, big man," Phalen encouraged. "Shoot inside me."
"Shhhh." Greg put his finger to his lips as he opened the sauna door to the hallway, lit only by the low light coming from Jeff and Phalen's open bedroom door. He silently closed the sauna door and then turned to see Curt standing in the deep shadows looking into the lighted bedroom and fondling himself. He turned toward Greg grinned and motioning for him to hurry with a quick movement of his head.
Phalen was standing, bent over at the waist, holding onto the dresser while Jeff rhythmically fucked him. With each thrust, Phalen's erection bobbed between his spread legs. The muscles of Jeff's butt would tighten with each stroke, and the muscles of his arms flexed as he held onto Phalen's shoulders.
The two men in the hallway watched in fascination as Phalen began masturbating himself, all the while urging Jeff to, "fill him up."
Greg reached out and began stroking Curt's erection. They had each cum only minutes earlier, but the sight before them was something neither of them ever expected to see.
Jeff had stopped moving and had thrown his head back and groaned loudly, his entire body jerking slightly with each contraction, filling Phalen full.
Finally, he leaned forward and rested against Phalen as his breathing slowed. From the dark hallway, Greg and Curt could see Phalen continue to masturbate himself, slowly teasing his erection as Jeff continued to slowly rock his hips, continuing to stimulate Phalen's prostate.
Curt leaned close to Greg. "Play with my hole." His words were not much more than a breath against Greg's ear. When they looked back into the bedroom, Jeff was on his knees, his face buried between Phalen's cheeks. Even from where they stood, they could her the slurping sounds Jeff made, as well as Phalen's groans of pleasure and words of encouragement.
"Damn," Greg murmured, sliding a finger over Curt's smooth hole, feeling it tighten and then relax. Like Phalen, both Greg and Curt were slowly masturbating themselves, one enjoying the sight of Jeff, the normally reserved man, stripped of both his clothes and his reservations.
Greg jumped slightly at the sound of Jeff's open palm slapping against Phalen's butt. A moment later there was another slap, this time against the other cheek, followed by a loud groan from Phalen, and the sight of his erection spurting its thick load against the front of the dresser.
At the same moment, both Greg and Curt silently shot their own loads onto the brick floor of the hallway.
~ to be continued ~
Thank you for taking the time to read my work. I always welcome your email and enjoy hearing your thoughts. If you would like me to send a pic of the character(s), please ask.
In addition to the first 'Phalen' story, I have three other stories you may want to read. 'Leith,' and 'Chris' are located in the Nifty College Section. The third story is called 'Wesley', and is located in the Adult Relationships section. I hope you enjoy them all.
Best wishes,
Roy Reinikainen roynm@mac.com suomalainen_abq@mac.com