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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RiNG DaNG DoO 04
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Drop your clothes anywhere!"
Stepping inside the dorm room, Talvin asks in almost a whisper, "Does Gino's room always look this tidy?"
Ari looks at Talvin, a toothy grin on his face, "Nice joke there Talvin!"
Way behind the two, though Talvin wasn't keeping score, Gino had stripped his shirt right after turning the key to the door. Now he stood in only his briefs and bent over the small three-quarter size refrigerator.
"Who's up for a beer?"
Because it was so obvious to the two, Gino bent in half, searching the shelves of the fridge for beer, his ass high in the air, Ari announces, "Who's up for ass!"
Suddenly standing, Gino has a grin on his face, returning, "Hey, tongue or cock... it's all good!"
After dropping his tee shirt on the chair closest to the computer, Ari reaches to take two beers out of Gino's hand.
Handing one to Talvin, Gino says, "Don't be shy Talvin. We all know what guys look like!" After a short drag on his bottle of beer, Gino pushes his briefs down, tosses it to himself on the tip of of toe and uses it as a ball to get it in the fake basketball hoop hanging over a laundry bin. "Oh-h! Missed again!"
"Good thing you're not on the basketball team, Gino!" Ari jokes.
Still, Talvin is far behind, watching Ari unbuckle his belt, lower his jeans, taking one foot out, then the other. He had taken only one sip of beer, watching all the goings on in the room.
Gino had dropped his head back, much like a guy enjoying a hot blow job, but instead finished off his first bottle of beer. "Argk!" he burped, "That felt good!" But he also notices Talvin, "Talvin, you've got way too many clothes on. We gotta catch you up man!"
Talvin was more catching up on years of neglect, of his `gay' education. Loads of times he's captured glimpses of guys changing in the locker room, but it's the first time he's been with a guy a year older than himself. Too, over the years he's always dreamed of meeting up with the perfect guy, in his mind an athletic guy like himself. However, he was starting to enjoy Gino, not only by the way in which he talked, but the beefy look of his bod. He always thought of himself as shy, but shocked even himself, telling Gino, "Where do we start?"
Taking the beer bottle out of his hand, Gino hands it to Ari, saying, "Hold this."
Ari took Talvin's bottle and made it his own, switching off from his empty to the nearly full one. He stood there for a moment, one hand on the bottle, the other playing with his pent up cock, watching as Gino kissed Talvin while working at the buttons of his shirt.
With Talvin's shirt open, Gino's hands, which went exploring are now helping out, "We've got to get these hands busy!"
His first mansex experience, Talvin wasn't sure what to do, but he sighs, "Ooh-h-h," when Gino places Talvin's hands on his own chest.
"Yeah baby... go for it... make me yours!"
Ari knew Talvin wasn't getting the lingo, but he knew his hands were probably hot, sliding them all over Gino's hairy chest and stomach. He wasn't sure how this was all going to go, Gino volunteering to come along with him and Talvin, but as luck would have it, he seemed to be losing the pair for his own advantage. "Mind if I use your cell?"
Gino answers, "You know where it is."
Picking up Gino's jeans, in a heap on the floor where he left them, Ari finds it in a pocket. He would have used his own phone, but Gino's auto-dial numbers made it easy for an instant hookup. First two numbers, Rob and Frank, were no answers', which Ari left cocky messages, about them missing out on a hot fuck! Third number, Tom, he was at work, but said he might drop over afterwards, if the action was still going. Ari said it could be a possibility. He almost couldn't get Tom to hang up, him boasting about how Ari worked his cock down his throat. Finally, Ari notices a new' entry, Michael, giving it a try. "This Mike?"
It was, him answering, "Oh. It's Michael, is it?" and before the guy on the other end could get another word in, Ari's asking, "I'm at Gino's dorm and wondered if you want to get it on for some hot sex?"
Apparently the answer was `yes'.
"Cool! See ya in a few!"
After hanging up, Ari walks over to where Gino is on his knees, working up Talvin's cock, "I found a new entry in your private speed dial, Mike. He's on his way over."
Popping off with a slurp, made Talvin giggle, Gino asking in a frightful manner, "You're talkin' about Mike, not Michael?"
"I thought it was Mike, but he claimed his name was `Michael', whatever," Ari replies with attitude.
"Oh shit!" Gino says, looking up at Ari, his hand holding Talvin's hard shaft in limbo.
"Why? Mike or Michael, what's the difference?"
Gino's fear turned to a smirk, him responding, "Oh you'll find out!" He went back to sucking Talvin back down.
Ari looked at Gino in a strange manner, thinking, `What the hell is that about?' He found out though when a knock came at the door.
"You Ari?"
"Who are you?" Ari asks. He was expecting a guy much like themselves, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, or even twenty-one, but this dude was `much' older.
"Michael. I talked with you on the phone not more than five minutes ago?"
Michael gets a kick out it, Ari walking over to where Gino is on his knees, giving the Indian dude a hot blow job, grabs Gino by the scalp, gives an impolite tug and demands, "Gino, what the fuck is Mike talking about?"
"Michael," `Mike' corrects him.
Knowing before Michael even got here, what Ari would think when he opened the door, Gino says, "Oh, you mean my psychology professor?"
Still his hand on Gino's scalp, keeping Talvin waiting, Ari questions, "Your Gino's psych professor? You don't look any older than..." Figuring the college professor has gotten the line, being he looked `young' for his age, he let the rest of his inquiry slide.
He was knew, stepped into the position right at the termination of the college year, so hadn't been in Gino's flash-phone system for more than a week, responding, "Well yes, for next year that is and if you don't mind me saying so, I think you're kind of hot?"
Of course, Michael's attention was not only on Ari, but whom Gino was cocksucking!
Dropping Gino's head, allowing him to get back to work on Talvin, Ari confronts Michael, "Gino's a little too busy to interrupt again, so how's your cocksucking skills, professor?"
"Excuse me?" The twenty-five year old psych professor draws question from Ari's remark.
Then again, Ari puts two and two and two together, Professor Parisi walking in, not barging through the door, still standing there without removing a stitch of clothing, whereas another dude, sex-starved to give or get a suck or fuck-job, would be in the buff and his more polite attitude, not one of the run-of-the-muck college dudes out for anal or oral pleasure, "Let me guess, you're not here for sex?"
On the contrary, Ari standing there with his hands on his hips, just above his black briefs, nothing else guarding his bod from eyes to see, Michael creeps closer, saying, "It could materialize much later," he gently puts hands on both of Ari's lightly tanned shoulders, "after a bit to eat and not," he looks down, "an `immediate' bite to eat, but after a nice home-cooked meal and a glass of wine, perhaps we could think about it?"
Even though a hand hadn't touched him between the legs, Ari felt some rumblings by the suave-talking professor. Right now Ari's mentality was thinking beyond the cock and ass, meaning this dude wasn't into all that rushy sex stuff. Being funny, but sending a message, he asks, "Want to help me into my clothes?"
"These yours?" Michael picks up the stepped-out-of jeans.
"No. Those belong to Gino. He's the slob. Mine are nicely folded over the chair, Michael."
"Who you callin'..." Gino began to say about being sloppy, but then came a complaint from Talvin, followed by a sound like somebody was going to barf!
"You called me `Michael'!"
"That's your name, isn't it?" Ari asks as he is the one putting hands on shoulders, to steady himself while feeding his legs into handheld jeans.
"Last time I checked my bank card!"
"Last time I checked mine I had twenty-five bucks left, so dinners off."
Michael smiles, saying, "If you didn't catch it, I mentioned home-cooked?"
Latching up his belt buckle, Ari says of it, "Oh, I thought you meant home cooked at a restaurant, not `home' home-cooked. You got a home?"
"Yeah," Michael replies, adding upbeat, "and it's even got a kitchen!"
"You're in my way," Ari next confronts.
Perplexity shown on Michael's face.
"The closet is behind you?" Ari smiled to himself as he perused the small selection of shirts, feeling `heat' on his back. Purposefully, when he stepped back from the closet he made his rear advancement in a big step. "Oh! Excuse me!"
"I dunno," Michael replies lightheartedly, feeling the `accidental' bump of bods, Ari's back to his front, "I thought it felt rather good!"
Turning and facing him, Ari answers equally with humor, "I got a rule."
"What's that?"
"If a guy wants to fuck me it's okay, but I get to fuck first!"
Standing there and waiting, Michael scratches his close-cropped beard and says, "You might have just swayed my decision."
"Oh, so you already had made up your mind, luring me to your home and then what was I going to be? An after dinner treat? An easy fuck and then you were going to dismiss me, professor?"
"Actually," Michael smiles, "I was entertaining the thought that some nice guy might actually get the chance to bust `my' cherry ass!"
Ari just smiled as Michael took the shirt from his hand helped him on with it.
As he is buttoning it up, Ari says, "Were you wondering why I didn't pick a simple tee shirt?"
"From a psychological standpoint, it would have made more sense, you being... are you eighteen?"
"Don't worry professor. I'm of legal age to get sucked."
"And fucked?"
Still unsure how the evening would play out, the two stare in silence.
"I wore the button down shirt because I think it's sexy for a man to strip a guy out of it, more than a simple tee shirt."
"Interesting. I don't think I've come across that in textbook logic."
Pressing Michael back so he could exit the room, Ari says, "Make sure you unbutton it slowly while you're sucking my cock!"
Before leaving the room, the two glance at Gino and Talvin, Talvin lying back on the bed, shirt split open down the middle and Gino making love to his hard shaft.
Using the two as a reference, Ari says, "Me Talvin', you Gino'!"
As they walked out of the dorm room, Michael's complaining, "Oh no you don't! Who knows if anything is going to happen."
Ari switched the subject to cooking, asking what Michael had intended on serving up.
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"Ring-Dang-Do, where are you?"
"You don't have to shout, you know?"
"Oh! There you are!"
Almost the same scene has played out for the two bears, since meeting at gay pride in San Francisco over seven years ago. Joseph rips the line from a phrase of a song both has learned to identify with. Aksel Jenson having been in former years taken on the profession of DJ RDD. Joseph Travanti, at the time in college, had opted to join a friend for a gay pride weekend to party it up. It's where Joseph met the `bear-of-his-dreams', turning over the hits as hundreds of others bumped to the beat, him slowly making his way to the turntables.
"Ready for a night of party-till-you-drop?"
He was all sweaty from his job, on account of the air conditioning unit needing repair at his office. Moving his sweat-soaked shirt up to Aksel's freshly showered bod, even cast more of an untidy scent.
Yet, for Aksel, it's nothing of an inconvenience, "Mm-m-m love the smell of a real bear! Makes me wanna tear that shirt right off your bod and...."
Way ahead of him, Joseph is unfastening the top button of his shirt, "Um no thanks. I go through more shirts like that..."
Faster than Joseph can work buttons, Aksel's hands are inside the shirt, feeling up his eventual treat, thumbs massaging hot nips, "Can ya hurry it up?"
Most afternoons it went like this, maybe five out of seven days of the week, one more or one less, depending on how the work day has panned out for each. Seven years ago they set up house together, but since both were in their twenties and still affixed to the risque lifestyle, they left their relationship `open', with some ground rules.
Looking into Joseph's eyes, Aksel asks, "Did your little cub munch on these last night?"
Last night, Joseph phoned ahead, saying he was going to be preoccupied with a `summer student', a cute little cub he happened upon while traversing across campus, cutting through the registration building, on the way to his office. Eye contact was all that was needed.
He had dropped the phrase, as he stood next to the student, in line, "I know you from some place. Refresh my memory?"
The student, Jonathan Dumont, hadn't a clue, then seeing this for what it was, plays along, "Jon Dumont, we met at..." quickly searching for a place, he chooses, "the `Bear Lair'. Last week was it?" he fibbed.
It put the scenario back on Joseph, him stating, "Oh yeah. I should have remembered."
At the same time, it put the two on the same page, Jonathan making a statement which would confirm the two having the same sexual preference, but taking it a bit further, of the same `cultural preference'.
However, their keen interest was interrupted by a bossy student, from behind, asking them to kindly' move' or was it `okay' to purge ahead of them.
"No, you can go ahead," Jonathan favored the answer, rather than stop the fascinating' conversation, especially when he' was picked out of the crowd and not the other way around.
"Listen," Joseph continued, "I don't want to jeopardize your place in line," he jots down some info.
"The Wang Building," Jon looks at the paper handed him. "Um, which direction would that be in?"
Another student stepped in front of Jon, without asking, Joseph staring down the dude, "Nerve!"
"Yeah I know," Jon giggled it away, lending a clue, "but being he's one of my new room mates, we'll let it go?"
"`Nice' room mate!" Joseph comments to Jon, then points him off towards the direction of his office.
"He's `not' like us," Jon replies, meant to throw Joseph off the course his mind was on.
Leaving the registration building, sure, Joseph had his eyes peeled, but also tunneled his inner vision towards recalling Jon's hot focus of interest. Upon first sight, Joseph honed in on the top, the clinging tee shirt over what appeared to be a swimmer's build. Upon further interest and approach, he singled out the summer student, seeing the plump stomach, which only made his inner self yearn for the youth. His mouth watered, wanting to taste each of the two peaks which kept the top of his tee shirt from conforming to the roundedness of his pecs!
Not at all intimidated by a student of interest, the head of the psychology department at Cullum Willun School of the Fine and Performing arts, allowed his interest, in young cubs, proliferate as opportunity provided. The occasional bear would make his head spin as well.
As far as meeting Jonathan Dumont was concerned, regarding the made up excuse for introduction, their paths could have very well crossed at the `Bear Lair'.
"You working tonight?" Funny', Joseph caught himself, bringing it up to Aksel, when Jon had proposed the same place, but for a different reason. He rationalized the Bear Lair' had to be on his mind.
"Man does not live on landscaping alone?" Aksel replies, lying down lengthwise on the bed.
Whereas Joseph sits at the foot, untying a shoe, he lies back, his head coming to a rest on Aksel's belly.
"Good! Now all you have to do is turn your head to the left!"
"Now what?"
They both laugh, as the slapstick has gone, Joseph's nose about two inches from Aksel's bellyhole!
"Do I have to give you a play by play response?"
At the club, at the college, on the daytime landscaping job, both knew their preference of pitching or catching, however at home `in bed', as the case was now, though not intimately between the sheets, it became a toss up, one leading the other.
Earlier, Joseph had sat in his office chair and after his newfound cub had finished registering, found his way over to his office, where he sat, enjoying a nice blowjob, unforced, but willing on the part of his young cub. Since he had emptied his balls down the cub's throat, he was more up for the subservient side.
Like smelling up something delectable to eat, Joseph made like he was on the trail of some varmint, lingering in the woods, "Mm-m-m," he sniffed at the darker blond trail embedded in the finer-haired fabric. Joking, but meant to put both in the mood, he turns over and sniffs at the hairy bellyhole, "Do I smell bear?"
"If you don't hurry up," Aksel says about his already stroked up cock, "you're going to be `feeling' bear-juice on your head!"
Before Aksel can illicit a verbal response, Joseph's tongue is out and painting a wet line from bellyhole to where his nose butts up against the tall stalk. "Um, would you mind removing your hand?"
"By all means. Suck it down!"
Spreading his legs, Aksel watches Joseph in action, not losing eyesight, as he turns his bod around, mouth opening and taking his hard shaft right inside.
"Ohh-h-h-h-h yeah!"
Loving the psychology of it all, Joseph knows there's a little play on words, but too he's not selling himself short, knowing what a tender cocksucker he can be, when the opportunity calls. He also knows what helps to keep the balls pulsing, especially where his room mate is concerned, reaching up and toying with the oversized nips.
"Oh fuck yeah," but with warning, "but not much, `cause I'm close!"
When are you not' close?' Joseph thinks, knowing very well it doesn't take much to get Aksel off, especially when pinching his nips from light to moderate, then as the action accelerates, making the ejaculation much, much more pronounced, really digging nails into the nubs!
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"Nice place, Michael," Ari says without too much fanfare, upon walking in the front door. "I didn't know you didn't live in an apartment."
Overriding the differentiation, Michael makes note of Ari staring at a painting, "It's real you know?"
That didn't even wow Ari, him collectively answering, "Hmm, I've never known anyone owning a Kandinsky before. I hope you have the security for it?"
Since Ari acted cool, Michael did the same, replying in a more sarcastic manner, "I guess you missed the fourteen digits I punched in at the door?"
Smirking, Ari replies, "What are they? Just in case I want to have a Kandinsky hanging in `my' house!"
"You can afford your own," Michael replies. "Drink?"
"Are you sure I'm old enough?" Ari poses, following Michael into another room, rather expansive and loaded with art work.
Meant to send a message, Michael recites, "Let's see, you were born November 11, 1992, in Summit, New Jersey," and getting carried away with the facts, "of Ivan Carp, a wealthy industrialist and Jada In'am, poet and writer, whom later pursued and accomplished her dream, receiving a formal education, eventually graduating with honors, a Phd in literature from New York University."
"I'm impressed!" Ari was finally impressed. "You've done some homework, Michael," he stands in front of the twenty-five year old.
"Not really."
"No? Then who clued you in? Gino?"
Smiling, Michael gives up his secret, "The back of the leaflet at the Senior Fashion Week Show?"
"You were there?"
"Front row and I must say you were just stunning!"
"Wait," Ari suddenly about faces, "now I sense something suspicious here," turning back to face him, "a bunch of high schoolers in the audience I can accept, but why would a college professor want to even think about attending a function with five hundred screaming teenagers?"
"Drink?" Michael confronts him with, holding a second beer in his hand.
Walking towards the bar and taking it from Michael, Ari replies, "I would think if it was in your plan to seduce me you would try some hard stuff?"
"`Hard'? Would you be referring to sex or liquor?"
Ari cooly replies, "I can hold my liquor, but can't be held responsible for getting up the `hard stuff', if I over do it a little."
"Hmm," Michael says, watching Ari take a chug.
Because Michael is staring at his chest, Ari figures he's spilled a sip, "What?" He asks, pulling on his shirt to find any drips of beer.
"I was just thinking of how much better you look without the shirt!"
Knocking the bottom of the bottle on the surface of the bar, Ari says, "Well, nice meeting you and thanks for the beer!"
"No! Wait!" Michael hustles around the bar and before Ari can think, blocks his exit. "You can't go."
"Why? Are you thinking of holding me hostage?"
"Now there's a thought!" Michael answers. "But you can't go because the alarm will go off."
Not meant to boast, but put it lightly, Ari replies, "Good. Maybe one or two of the cops I know will show up."
Thinking something criminal, Michael says, "I didn't say I wouldn't punch in the numbers and let you out," it also on his mind, "Which cops do you know?"
Ari wasn't sure how Michael meant it, whether he knew some cops too and wanted to compare notes, but felt something starting to boil down below, him offering, "The two who came to bust up a party at one of Gino's friend's house and wound up staying and partying?"
"You didn't...." Michael then, like any other curious, gay man, wanted to know.
Purposefully wanting to keep Michael's mind in the balance, Ari says, "It's too bad you want me to go!"
"Want you to go? I don't want you to go," Michael replies, thinking of the terms, whether he did, or was it Ari.
"Good, because I'm starved. Where's the kitchen?"
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Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee
`RiNG DaNG DoO' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.