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 06
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Do I smell `Italian'?"
They were enjoying a nice, home-cooked meal, Michael promising Ari hours prior, when both, upon hearing the familiar voice, glance across the table to each other and say amiable responses, "Gino?"
Waltzing right in to the private get together, Gino exclaims as he seats himself at the kitchen table, "Mm-m-m, what perfect timing?"
As Gino grabs Michael's dessert fork and stabs at the red sauce-laden bowl, Michael is looking at Ari, saying, "Remind me next time to lock the front door?"
It went right over Gino's head, him helping himself, to thinking nothing of stealing Michael's plate right out from under his nose and with his fingers, releases the sausage off the tip of the fork.
"Um, Gino," Ari says in a disgusted manner, "like, Michael just used that plate to eat off of?"
"Fork's clean, right?" Gino says, spiffing it off with his lips, then going harpooning for another sausage. "Oh shit, Michael! This sauce is like so much better than our family recipe. It's not from a jar, is it?"
"No Gino. I made it with these two hands," Michael holds up both his arms, opening his hands, "from `my' family recipe?"
To corroborate, Ari says, "And I watched. Trust me, there's nothing artificial about Michael's sauce."
Looking at it from a different perspective, Gino replies, "Only Michael's `sauce?'" Again he licks the fork. Then, being the slob Gino can be, the Italian reaches over the table for some garlic bread, moaning, "Uh oh!"
While Gino checks out the underside of his white sleeve, Ari scolds, "Gino, you're a fuckin' slob!"
When he first came in, Gino noticed the dinner attire, Ari with the shirt on he wore down the catwalk at the fashion show, only it parted down the middle. As for Michael, he wore, "I always liked you a ribbed tee, Michael," and switching attention to Ari, Gino says, "Doesn't it give Michael's pecs some hard definition?"
Having already seen those nice, hairy pecs up close, Ari knew, but declined to reveal it, "Sure does Gino."
Carrying on, Gino switches his head back to Michael, "Just look at those perky nips. Makes ya wanna..." Gino reaches to his right, poking Michael's ribbed top in just the right place.
Almost slapping the fork out of Gino's hand, Michael shouts, "You get that away from my nip!"
"Violence, Michael?"
Trying to be funny, Ari says, "You're lucky Michael didn't go for the sausage in your lap, Gino!"
"Yeah," Gino replies a strange manner, locking eyes with Michael, "wouldn't that be sumpthin'!"
Knowing there was a missing link here, Ari asks, "Somebody want to fill me in?"
Michael had known, in his own sexual encounters with Gino, he and Ari have had many adventures, by mentioning and `the stare', it put the pressure on him to reveal, "It wasn't anything more than two curious guys experimenting."
Trying to leave it at that, Ari pressed for more, because now he was the curious one, "And what would that experiment entail?"
Gino stole the rest of Michael's glass of wine, chugged it, laughed and said, "Nothing much. I got a little drunk and then did what drunk guys do, stoopid stuff."
"Which was?"
Michael was sweating it, the twenty-five year old psych professor not wanting to get off on the wrong foot with Ari, especially when they were having a sweet evening dinner and all. Rather than have Gino explain things in a difficult perspective, Michael shot out with, "It was innocent play, really. Gino wanted me to play with his balls, so that's what I did. Nothing to be concerned with."
None of this had ever happened in the times Ari had sex with Gino or his friends, him pressing for details, "Oh really?" he turns to Gino, "And what stuff did Michael do to your balls, I would guess, to make you hard, Gino?"
By now Gino was feeling a little giddy, seeing Michael treating the subject lightly. Now, he figured things had gone in a different direction, so he tries to hide it as much as possible, "Oh nothing much. Ya see, Michael ties my sneaker laces around my balls and dropped the sneaker off the edge of the bed!"
Probably expecting Ari to get up from the table pronto, button up and leave, Michael was whacked out of his gourd when Ari replies, "Sounds like fun. What else did you do?"
Two things crossed Michael's mind. First, was Ari really interested in how he tied Gino's balls up and did more than let them stretch away from his pubic region, or was Ari probing, trying to find out if they did more than some innocent ball-play?
He was happy when Gino replied, "That's all!"
"Did you like it?" Ari fires off a question, like an Anderson Cooper interview.
Because Gino didn't want to admit he liked the association of pleasure and pain, "I was like totally drunk out of my skull. Um, what's for dessert?" Taking a napkin, Gino opened it and cleaned his whole lower face like he had one the size of the whole table cover!
"What?" Michael asks, like he's being interrogated by two pairs of eyes.
He expected something on the lines of the subject matter of `restrained balls', but instead, Ari simply asks, "What's for dessert?"
Glancing up at the clock on the kitchen wall, Gino gasps, "Oh shit! Is that going on eight o'clock?"
He didn't even wait for a reply, Gino jumping out of his seat, "I've got a hot orgy going on over at Graysin House. The frathouse is hosting two major' stars from Raging Scorion Studio'. Wanna come?"
Turned down, Gino gulped down Ari's glass of wine and hightailed it out of there.
Michael dwell on Ari's reasoning for not attending the frathouse orgy, "So you really want to see how it feels to have your balls put in traction?"
Ari replies, "Maybe. When you get me drunk enough?"
Smiling, Michael picks up the bottle of wine and refills Ari's glass.
They had two more glasses of wine apiece, but nothing to make them wildly drunk. A bit light-headed, yes, enough for Ari to suggest, "I'd like to try something."
Right now, the evening at home without thoughts of playing solitaire, Michael replies, "Right now I'm up for just about anything!"
Looking around the kitchen, Ari asks, "You got a bedroom around here someplace?"
Collecting two fresh glasses and a bottle, Michael replies, "Someplace."
"I'll carry that!" Ari says, grasping the bottle by the neck, taking a sip off the top.
"Keep going," Michael jokes as he leaves the kitchen for the stairway, "and I'll have you so drunk, it'll be a cinch to tie off your balls!"
Right now, the nineteen year old wasn't feeling much inhibition. His balls were already churning and though he didn't have an idea of what the implications of a lace tied tightly around a guy's sacs, if it cut off the flow or cum or not, wasn't a part of his rational thinking. By the time he got to the top of the bi-level stairway, he had taken four hits off the top of the bottle.
What Gino hadn't picked up on, were the two sitting at the table, the only thing clothing their bods, the ribbed tee shirt on Michael, the long-sleeved button down on Ari's shoulders, except parted down the middle. So, when they hit the bedroom, it was easy as pizza pie to strip their tops off. Immediately Ari plunged backwards into the king-sized bed, "Oh nice!" He followed up with the chaser, "Oh shit!" Before he could upright the bottle of wine, he had doused his own chest with it.
Running to his rescue, Michael says, "I've got it!" Straight up the middle of Ari's legs, Michael makes a beeline, like a dog in heat. His intentions were to do something unfound, like sticking his tongue out and licking up wine, but his foot slipped, his chest slapping right down on Ari's splattering the wine up against the teen's chin. "Hmm," Michael changes plan, "I wonder how it tastes!"
Not much more of the wine would go into their stomachs. As Michael goes to town on Ari's lips, he reciprocates, placing his arms around Michael. Wine escaped from the bottle, a tsunami cascading down Michael's back.
"Oh-h-h-h-h!" Michael did half a pushup, arching his back, separating their chests.
Instead of apologizing for wetting both them and the bed, Ari laughs his ass off, remarking, "Bet it feels good lubing up your ass!"
"Hm-m-m," Michael replies, tensing his glutes, since he did happen to feel the wine run into the crack. Staring right into Ari's eyes, sensing the true meaning of Ari's words, Michael replies, "Forget it!"
Daring, Ari accepting Michael's vocal thought as a challenge. "Cool!" he yells out, laughing and with pent up emotion, knocks Michael right off him, to the side.
Sensing a duel, Michael pushes himself back up. He wore a gymbod, but Ari, in this state of frenzy made him the loser.
Pinning Michael's wrists to the bed, some of Ari's fervor, the human, not sexual, wore down some. "Remember what I said about fucking a guy I liked?"
Though the words were somewhat different and more subdued, Michael replies, "I remember."
"I really' like you and... I'm feeling really' horny!" He laughs.
Michael could have taken Ari right there, since the teen had released one hand to prove a point, the other hand firming up his nine inch cork. The right formula was there for not only Ari to feel incredibly horny, but the bod of the teen, the smell of man-sweat, haze of wine and the feeling of pressed flesh was enough to make any man surrender, Michael recalling his line, "I'm yours..."
"For whatever I want!" Ari cuts him off, yodeling with evil laughter.
This would be a first for both, Ari finding a sneaker on the floor, pulling the white lace out.
"What are you going to do?" Michael asks, without worry.
"Give us both what we want!"
Michael, his back to the mattress, crooked his chin to his chest, checking out what Ari was doing with the lace. He could tell Ari was semi-wasted, well he knew it five minutes ago, but reality really dawned watching Ari grab up his own balls and tie the lace around it, like a noose around a dying man's neck. "Um, what are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing, dah?" Ari asks, laughing. Next second, Ari sighs, "Oh-h-h-h shit did that hurt!" However, `feeling' overpowered the physically painful part, inducing laughter once again.
It was confirmed by Michael. Ari was drunk out of his skull, strangling his big balls, grimacing in pain and then laughing it off. Strange thing, Michael himself should have returned with sorrow over the globes appearing larger and Ari's painful reaction, but instead he found himself laughing as if responding to a joke!
"Next!"
Michael lost his smile and humor, "What do you mean `next?'"
It was the wine, making Ari lose it, answering Michael with some sweet action. He sat on Michael's thighs, which could have been uncomfortable for both, cutting off some vital circulation. However, the contrasting effect, the closeness of their pubes, Ari slipping onto his knees, moving up so his balls were snug right against Michael's balls, "Ready or not!"
He laughed again, taking Michael's balls in his hand and looped the same sneaker string around and around, tying them off in a way he wasn't sure of, only that he could tug his own balls and they would not become unfastened from Michael's glob of nuts. "Now we'll both find out!"
"Find out what?" Michael asks.
Giggling, Ari set about the first part of his experiment, seeing how durable a man's balls are, by leaning over and taking a lick off the top of Michael's tall stalk.
"Oh fuck yeah, torture me!" Michael yelled, the mixing of the pleasure point of his mancock and the tug on his balls from Ari's head bending on his neck to lick.
Later Ari would wonder why he laughed through the whole ordeal, sucking Michael right down to the base of his hard shaft, then, since he couldn't get their balls untied for the moment, took the alternate plan out, bringing both shafts together in one hand, sometimes Michael pitching in, but it was Ari's hand providing the intense pumping action, rubbing their two cocks together until their sweet cream mixed, glazing over Michael's hairy stomach.
Sometime in the middle of the night, about two hours after they creamed themselves, their balls hurting like hell, when Ari had to take a leak, they both awoke with a vengence.
"Oh-h-h! Oh shit-I-gotta-take-a-leak... my achin' balls!"
Fortunately Michael had a pair of toenail clippers in the nightstand.
"No-o-o-o-o-o!" Ari whined out loud.
"What a wimp!" Michael called Ari. After some more whining about being careful, Michael badgers, "You're such a gurl!"
As the cord snapped, freeing them up, Ari took off for the jon, yelling, "Just in-n-n-n-n-n-ti-i-i-ime!"
Michael smiled upon hearing the dirge of water in the toilet. Same time, he was massaging his balls, thinking how sweet the come session was, Ari falling forward, their cream cementing their chests together and now... "Now what?" he thought, not thinking about when Ari came from the jon, but now', like in the rest of the summer. He had made a personal vow not' to get involved in any guy, upon coming to this small town to set up teaching at the local community college. He smiles, thinking how easy it took to break his promise, it starting with a simple slice of pizza at Gino's family restaurant and now attending the local high school fashion show. Next on his mind was whether he should stop it now or...
Ari steps from the jon, towel wrapped around waist, saying, "Do I look sexy or what?" He leaned on the doorway, an arm out-stretched, as if intently showing off his dark-haired pit.
`On boy!' Michael thinks to himself, gazing upon the hot teen, with such thought-provoking words. He already knew what was hiding under the towel, but the clean look gave new definition to his mindful thoughts.
For a psychology professor, his mind should have been more alert, Ari dropping the pose and saying the obvious, "Is that your phone I hear ringing?"
"Oh my phone! My phone! Oh yeah, my phone!" Michael scrambles, jumping out of bed and digging through his pants pockets for the damn thing!
It's then Ari says, with induced shame, "My phone," he presses a button.
In less than a minute, Ari had the whole scoop, closing out the call and telling Michael, "Party's over at Graysin Hall. The cops showed up and told them they were two noisy."
Sarcastically, fondly his sticky pubes, Michael replies, "Tsk! Tsk! I bet Gino was right in the middle of a hot fuck too. Damn shame!"
Ari trailed Michael off to the shower, explaining, "Who knows, but what he was calling for, is the two porno actors from `Raging Scorpion Studio' have taken the party over to Scorpion's mansion and wanted to know if we wanted to go?"
Immediately Michael bats back with, "I dunno. I'm a prestigious figure now at the community college?"
As he turned on the shower, Ari replies, "Yeah, I've thought about that too."
"About what?" Michael was in the dark.
Ari explains it, "My father, Ivan Carp, he's like this really successful industrialist and my mom, a famous poet and writer, with a Phd from New York University, but I told them a long time ago I have to me."
"Let me guess," Michael asks, based on experience, "when you came out to them?"
"Yeah," Ari looks at him like, `how did he know?'.
"So, who's your famous mother," Michael asks, stepping into the shower.
Ari thinking nothing of joining him, carries on, "Jada In'am?"
"Jada In'am? You're the son of `thee' Jada In'am?"
Because he's heard the same reaction from people for most of his life, especially from just about every official from Buckley Devereau Community College he came in contact with by way of registering and interviews, Ari treats it as nothing, "Get over it, okay?"
Tail end of his adoration for the author, as Michael passes the cake of soap to his pubes, "My colleagues and I `adore' your mother's works."
"That's nice," Ari replies nonchalantly, "here, let me get that!"
Still stunned, shocked by the son of a prolific author in the same shower as himself, Michael is slow to turn over the soap.
"Gino says if we don't get there in a half hour, forget it."
"What?"
Ari shakes his hand, forcing the soap out of Michael's hand. "Turn around."
"You're not going to try anything `funny', are you?"
"Shut up. Soap makes good lube!"
Michael turned and when it was Ari's turn to pirouette, Michael got the same wisecrack back.
"It's going to be sweet, scrubbing this back every morning."
Ari just smiled. Michael was kind of fun and shacking up with him for the school year might not be half bad.
Five minutes more and they were out of the shower. Ari hadn't anything but the same old shirt from the fashion show, minus the one button, when Michael decided to force-strip him. However, Michael's beefy build didn't fit Ari's lanky form, so he just wore what he came in.
Pulling up to the Scorpion Mansion, they were a little past the half hour specified by Gino. Instead of a `push button' and talking to someone, a small glassed house sat at the side of a thick and tall wrought iron gate. The two were very much surprised by not a young dude stepping from the booth, but rather a guy looking to be in his mid to late forties.
Obviously, they had caught him reading his favorite porn novel, a thumb closed in the page he left off. Sightseers were common, so suspicion was always in the back of the security guards mind. "Yes?"
Michael didn't reply fast enough, Ari leaning over and saying, "I'm Ari Carp and this is..."
Because Michael wanted to remain incognito, he cuts in, "Mike, and we're here to see our friend, Gino?"
He kept staring at Ari, scratching his beard, then finally addresses the nineteen year old, "I've seen you somewhere before."
"Oldest cliche in the book, buddy," Michael says. He was a psychologist. He knew these things.
"Is that so?" his attention suddenly drops Ari. Focusing up on Michael, "So," he checks out Michael, as much as he could see, him sitting in the car, "what's your business here?"
"Gino called and said to come over."
"I don't know any `Gino'?"
Ari relaxed in his seat. He had the strong feeling he was no longer of interest!
"He's inside, at the party, they came over here from Graysin House, when the party got too loud? Two of your models invited them and now we're here?"
"Hm-m-m," he checks Michael out more thoroughly. "Maybe if I call up the main house you can talk to somebody."
Ari fell asleep in the car, Michael taken eons in the small booth.
Finally, he hears the car door slam shut, jarring him awake, "What's up?"
Fixing his hair in the mirror above his seat, Michael pertly advises, "Hey, y'know what?"
"What?" Ari yawns.
"Donal Canari, the security guard. No wonder he recognised you."
"Me?" Ari, eyes glassy, still in the yawning stages.
"That book he had in his hand, was of your mother's poems. Did you know your picture is in the book?"
Filling Michael in, Ari reports, "My picture is in `all' my mother's books. She worshipped me."
"And how does that make you feel?"
"What're ya doing, using that psychoanalysis shit on me?"
"No. Just curious," Michael replied, though he seriously thought there was an issue here, but allowed the subject to die.
"So what of Canary?"
Michael relaxes, smiles, "Such an intelligent man. Handsome too."
Probing, because he knew he was asleep for some time, comparing his nap on the dashboard clock, before and after, "Tight?"
"Getting kind of personal are we?"
Suddenly the wrought iron gate swung open, Michael giving Donal a wave.
Ari starts singing, `Bad Romance'.
"What's that about?" Michael asks, weaving slowly up a tree and bush lane.
"Are you going to tell Canary..."
"Donal."
"Pardon me," Ari says with attitude, "are you going to tell Donal we jerked off with our balls tied together?"
Knowing where this was going, Michael kind of hoped Ari would understand, because he found the forty-four year old security dude much to his liking, "I'm sorry Ari."
"No problem," Ari shucked it off. "I probably shouldn't be dating my college psychology professor anyway!"
"Class lists don't come out until the fall. How did you..."
Ari giggles, saying, "I have clout, remember?"
There was something agitated before in Ari referring to his mother, but now his response was jovial, as if a bout for her, but at two o'clock in the morning, this wasn't the time for putting on his `shrink' cap!
"Whoaa, nice!" Ari comments about the length of the mansion, more than his eyes can take in, in the dark. Right at the front door, several steps away actually, he steps from the vehicle. Hearing the motor still running, Ari ducks his head back in the car, "Aren't you coming?"
On a sad note, Michael says, "Donal gets off duty right about now. He asked if I wanted to get some breakfast with him."
"I see," Ari replies and seeing the writing on the wall, "but I want you to know our `hangman game' is under wraps. Nobody needs to know about it, except us!"
Michael smiled because Ari smiled, him replying, "Thanks. I would appreciate that Ari."
"Well okay. See ya around."
Door closed, Michael yells, "See you in class!" However, he was hoping it would not be the whole summer before seeing Ari again, that they could still remain friends.
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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.