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, nor governmental areas, which the story is stages. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offences 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. This is fiction. Use protection, in real life.
ROAD TRIP Applegate wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"And this, gentlemen, is where I work!"
Anthony leads the entourage, composed of his stringbean lover, Roberto, Nicholas, Randy, Ethan, and Sep, through one of the four glass doors, entering the gymnasium of Applegate University. Along for the ride, plus to check out the university grounds, Mario Magistretti and Dingxang Choi tagged along. After high school graduation, the two eighteen year olds showed an interest in attending college, but hadn't an inkling to which area of study to apply themselves.
With the funeral for Mario's father over and done with, Anthony figured it a good idea for Mario to get on with his life, helping to take the stepping-stones, in some qualitative direction. As for Dingxang, his mother, co-owner of Choi's, the family owned cleaners, called one day, appealing for Anthony's help in setting their son on some sort of track. Over the years they've dived into their business, admitting neglect. Anthony couldn't believe his ears, commenting to Mrs. Choi the manner in which Dingxang conducted himself, always mannerly. Admitting to Anthony he's been well brought up in the traditional manner, she didn't hesitate to suggest his recent mix with the wrong crowd. Before things evolved, Mrs. Choi phoned the only person who had an influence over Dingxang, both sharing the same identity connection, being gay.
"Anthony, why is this place such a mess?"
Nicholas picks up a stack of papers and pans through it.
"Anthony, I'm appalled by the condition of this place. I set you straight at home. Now it looks like I need to `hang around here'?"
It wasn't only the stack of papers concerning Nicholas. Along with the others, the figure at the door presented some unexpected eye candy.
"Hi Coach Toricelli."
"Um, is there a reason why you're dripping water all over my floor, Tom?"
"Oops! Sorry about that Coach Toricelli."
"We don't mind," Nicholas stated.
Eyeing the nineteen year old, up and down, dressed in his low rise speedo, gave creedance for the lot of them to offer instant forgiveness, on Anthony's behalf!
"Um, Nicky?"
"Ughhh!"
Replying with a sigh of pain, Randy nudging his elbow hard, into Nicholas' ribs. The vocal retro effect made it sound like it broke a bone.
"Hmm... some tough guy you turned out to be!"
Whatever, it gave Nicholas the message, from Randy, he shouldn't be staring at Tom, yet it was alright for Randy to do it?
"So what can I do you for?"
"What's that Anthony?"
"I meant," he answered Roberto, asking Tom, "so, what's the reason you're dripping all over the carpet?"
"What I wanted to ask, is for the master key to the lockers?"
"You lock yourself out again, Carrington?"
Physically moving Nicholas and Randy, parting their bodies, Anthony fished around for the ring of keys. His ass jutted out, right in front of Nicholas. He made the others laugh out loud, his hand above Anthony's stretched pants, readying to spank him.
"I know I put them in here someplace."
However, the ring of keys, hanging over a pushpin on the bulletin board, saved Anthony from getting whacked.
"This look familiar?"
Stealing them away in one swoop, Anthony proceeded to hand them to Tom.
"Do we get to see the pool next?" Ethan asks.
"Why not!"
From the time they exited Anthony's office, to the door of the huge room, housing the olympic-sized pool, Nicholas wouldn't shut up about Anthony's untidyness.
"Y'know Nicholas, I think you should go into the organization business!"
"I'm only trying to help, Anthony. If you don't want my help, then just say it."
It's the first time, in their multi-yeared relationship, the two have had any type of argumentive conversation. Fortunately for the two, to keep their disclosure of words private, the others had gone on to observe Applegate's diving team.
"You're right Nicholas," Anthony stated, a hand rubbing up and down his friend's back.
"No. I'm wrong. I shouldn't be butting into your business all the time."
"Why? If you stopped doing it ten years ago, my house would look like my office!"
Smiling at each other became enough apologies, to warrant a kiss and makeup session.
"Gringos," Roberto interrupted, "we want to go swimming. The team invited us!"
"Ohhhh no, no, noooooo..." Anthony ran to the side of the pool.
As at home, without shame, Sep and Ethan began stripping down, right there in front of the swim team, right down to their briefs, thumbs ready to elevate downwards their last shred of clothing. Mario and Dingxang, not knowing any different, followed along.
"But we don't have any swimsuits," Ethan complained.
Sep added, "So we did what comes naturally?"
"Sure," Sean Berg, dual gymnast in wrestling and swimming, says, "just like the parties at your place, we'll strip so as not to make your friends feel embarrassed?"
"Hold it, hold it, hold it!"
As Sean pulls his speedos down, Anthony grabs hold of the waist band, yanking them back up, over his basket, hiding his dark, hairy pubes.
"Oh shit, coach! You almost clipped my dick!" Berg complains.
"Oh?"
"Owwwwwwwwch! Oh shit!"
Laughter breaks out uncontrollably, as Sean hops around after Anthony has snapped his speedo against his torso.
"Your lucky I didn't aim lower," Anthony replies, straight faced. "Now, there's a difference in being at my place and a respectable university."
"So, what do we do about swimsuits?" Ethan inquires, too pulling his briefs up, not wanting his cock injured.
"Whatever you want as long as your cock and balls aren't swinging to the breeze!"
As the others go at it, Dingxang comes over to Anthony.
"My mom suggested I take in the atmosphere of Applegate and see if anything interests me. I think I found something that interests me."
"I wonder why?" Anthony says under his breath, as Dingxang heads over to the pool.
With his crotch bouncing around in his tightey-whities, the Asian jumps into the water, making a widespread cannonball splash.
"Aren't you going in, Anthony?"
Looking over to the pool, all the troops are engaged in pool splashing, except his man, standing next to him, shirtless.
"Nah. You go have your fun with the guys."
"What are you going to do?"
"Go clean up the heap of papers on my desk."
"I will help you."
"I was hoping you would say that."
Cat calls came from the pool, notifying Anthony and Roberto the others paid attention to their sweet kiss. They all tried splashing the two, but the water didn't even touch their toes.
"So, what do you think about this place, Mario?"
"It's cool," he replied to Nicholas.
While Randy hung by Nicholas' side, the two chatted.
"Now is the time to think about getting involved in your education."
"Maybe."
"Y'know, your father doing himself in, wasn't your fault?"
Seeing a sense of grief, Mario's eyebrows squashing downwards, Nicholas could see the flood coming. Letting Randy's hand slide off his back, he walks through the waist-deep waters and embraces the teen.
"Same thing Gregor tells me."
From the moment Gregor had to relay to Mario his father's suicide, the twenty-eight year old police officer has kept tabs on him.
"Gregor?" Randy poses the question.
"Yablonski?" Nick tries refreshing his lover's memory, "The police officer at Linguini's the night Mario received the unfortunate imformation regarding his father?"
"Right, right," Randy replies, "tall, blonde... the police officer who was a victim of the homophobic attack?"
"That's him."
Mario went on to monopolize the conversation.
"Gregor..." he paused, then went on, "I'm sure he wouldn't mind me saying we went to his place. I couldn't return home, it being a police scene, so he offered."
Apparently, the facts presented tough to reveal circumstances.
"You don't have to go on," Nicholas told him, "I think we get the picture."
"All I wanted to say, is Gregor related the feelings he had, to what I was feeling. It made a lot of sense to me."
By now, Randy's body stood next to Nicholas' and Mario's. His arm ran along the eighteen year old's back, his wet hand soothing the teen's shoulder and arm.
"Are you..."
Nicholas didn't wish to be personal, but wanted to make sure Mario was being taken care of.
"I mean... I'm not trying to pry, but you.... and Gregor...."
"We're seeing a lot of each other. In fact... from the first night, I've been staying at his place. Do you think it's wrong?"
"Wrong, Mario?" Nicholas shrugged his shoulders, replying, "I've been there myself. I was a teen, down on my luck, hungry, cold, with no place to go. If it wasn't for the helping hand Anthony extended, I could've been dealing at death's doorstep."
Hearing the whole story, Nicholas' departure from home as a teenager, a castaway by unwanting parents of a gay son, Randy knows the trials and tribulations Nicholas has gone through. From their first night together, mixed with emotional confessions, leading to a loving encounter, finally sexual claiming, Randy has got to know Nicholas as an overly caring individual. He credits Anthony's charity giving to instilling the giving character of his lover.
"I didn't know that," Mario states, wiping his nose with his arm.
"Polluting the pool?"
Nicholas' joke lightened the atmosphere. The big interruption came, when Nicholas was surprised by somebody swimming between his legs, their head bashing his balls.
"What tha fuck?"
Pressing his arms hard, between Nicholas' legs, made him keel over backwards. Surfacing, Nicholas planed the water off his face.
"You're dead meat, Anthony!"
Most of the swimmers, team members, plus friends, cheered Anthony on, as the two wrestled in and out of the water. Randy, at first a loner, dueted with Mario, turning traitor to Anthony. Trying to get away, Nicholas forwardly leapt at Anthony, the six foot two man grabbing the back of Anthony's briefs.
"Oh shit!" Anthony called out, surfacing.
The crowd went wild with laughter, as Anthony claimed the natural reaction of placing his hands over his crotch, even though underwater, Nicholas proudly displaying a pair of torn briefs in his hand, waving them about as if a victory flag!
"Here coach!"
Slapping the surface of the water, in front of his face, Brad Barkley's yellow and blue speedo began to sink. Once two pair of swimming apparells had been stripped, one accidentally, the other on purpose, all hell broke loose. In addition to the free reign of naked asses and crotches, wet apparell became hurling ammunition, for body targets.
"Arrrrrgggghhh!" eighteen year old, Aldo Iacovanni, yelled out in anguish.
Standing up, in the shallow end, one of the guys swung a speedo through the air, whipping him across the back. Aldo turned abruptly, looking dead into the eyes of his assailant.
"Oh shit!"
"Of hell, will you look at that!"
Behind Aldo, Michael Tucker stood. Also Aldo's lover, his finger traced along the pinkish-red welt.
"What?"
Clutching the wet weapon in his hand, Aldo looks over his left shoulder, his right hand pulling against his shoulder blade, to gain eye access to his back.
"Oh damn!"
One by one, the circle forms around Aldo, each throwing in their comment, regarding the one inch wide welt across his back, under the ridge of his shoulder blades. All of the team members, except the culprit, Jason Kellman, whom sits afloat, watching, spitting water out of his mouth, wonders if retribution is in store. Finally, the twenty-year old gets up enough guts to swim over to the circle of sports buds, up to their navels in water. He stands, the water suddenly rushing down his chest and stomach.
"I didn't really mean to do it, Aldo."
He waited, as the others did, Aldo turning, facing Jason, hands sitting on his hips, addresses him.
Brad, trying to justify things, adds, "We all had our fun Aldo. I don't think Jason did it on purpose."
"Yeah, Aldo," Michael, who's hand has been latched onto the Italian's shoulder consistently, says, "Jason wouldn't hurt anybody on purpose."
Not in any way vengeful, Aldo sees the truth in their reasoning. He offers his hand. Wary, still on his guard, Jason looks about, then accepts the handshake.
"Yeah, it's okay."
"Sorry," Jason renounces his wicked ways, "I hope I didn't hurt you too bad."
As has become over the past few months, a tight group, friendships bonded, the two hug.
"Heeey, hey," Michael pulls on each of the embracing jock's arms, "that's enough!"
Trading off, Jason and Michael switch places.
"I think that's enough fooling around for one day," Anthony states, breaking up the pool party.
When Anthony first came to Applegate, years back, the program had fallen short, due to his predecessor's lack of enthusiam. With his departure and Anthony's addition, he's developed a special breed of sportsmanship. Aldo's forgiveness has shone him he's getting through to the bunch of former lax misfits.
"Go Anthony!" Nicholas states.
"What was that for?"
"On nothing," Nicholas replies.
As if a hidden meaning, each of the two has already figured out the key to the short conversation.
"Thanks," Anthony says to Nicholas, a short hug rendered.
"Where's the cafeteria?"
The two laugh, at the stringbean's inquiry.
"How about pizza?"
Somehow, the word `pizza' leaked out amoung the ranks. As a convoy, the line of cars, jeeps and 4x4's, headed out of the university parking lot. When they arrived at Yaccovino's the parking lot already suggested a long line of people, waiting to be seated.
"How about takeout?" Nicholas suggested, looking at Anthony.
"Sure. Why not?"
The guys new what it meant, eating pizza and then another pool party, this time at Coach Toricelli's place. After the first time, under the same circumstances, Yaccovino's being overbooked, the guys showed they could be responsible enough. Never had Anthony been approached by having students over to his place, so he trusted the idea.
"Uh oh."
"What's up?" Anthony asked Nicholas.
"Out of paper plates."
"Oh?"
It was a nice way of Anthony hinting Nicholas, the grocery store shopper for last week, that he mucked up!
"Randy and I'll volunteer."
"How nice of you!"
Tossing on a dry tank top, Nicholas signaled Randy and the two lit out.
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"So, Mario, what's it like dating a guy ten years older than yourself?"
Not all the guys waited out the paper plates in the kitchen. In fact, Anthony and Roberto became the perfect hosts, staying behind, preparing. Both pools were in full swing, but not all chose to get in the swim, as Mario and Dingxang proved, sitting far away from poolside, lounging after their first coating of water.
"I dunno. There's a lot of things I like about him, plus he's been real nice to me."
Dingxang wasn't sure about asking, but figured it okay.
"Does he have a big... you know?"
"Yes and no!"
"Huh?"
Smiling, Mario replied, "Yes, he's got a big cock and no, he hasn't used it on me yet."
"Yet? Are you going to get serious with him?"
"I don't know."
"Have you... done anything?"
Mario wasn't sure whether he wanted to pour out his whole sex life to a guy, however, at the same time, he didn't want to brush his new friend off. He figured he would keep it to a minimum.
"We slept together."
At the lull, Mario figured he would elaborate, from a logical standpoint.
"That night, when he took me to his place..."
"Hmm, I'd think you would be too broken up, to try some sex?"
"My father's house had become a crime scene. I didn't have a choice."
"Oh."
Dingxang then realises what a doofus he is!
"Sorry `bout that."
"No, it's okay. You weren't there. You wouldn't know."
"Thanks for being understanding."
"Sure. I think, through meeting Gregor, it's taught me something."
"Oh? What?"
The eighteen year old Italian explains himself, going deeply into the subject.
"I'm not sure exactly how to put this.... Gregor has shone me we're here to help each other."
"Here? Like where?"
"On this earth. I mean, there are times for games, playing around, enjoying pleasures, but we've got to find someone.... damn! I don't know what I'm saying."
"No, keep on," Dingxang replies, sitting up on the edge of his lounger, facing Mario, "I think you're on to something."
"I am?"
"Yeah. Keep going."
"I'm not sure where I was."
"You said we've got to find someone. I think you were about to say something about finding the right guy."
"Right guy, Ding?"
Dingxang realizes he's spoken, not to imply, but has.
"Can I tell you something straight out, Mario?"
"Sure."
Sitting more attentively, Mario parks his elbow in the cushion, turns his bod towards Dingxang, listens.
"To me, it sounds... which I'm no authority on the subject, but, like I think you found a guy who wants you."
"Wants me? I don't know about that."
"Do you want him?"
Not answering, Mario is lost for words, but not thoughts. Turning, without another word, he slaps his back against the cushy lounge chair, sinking into deep thought.
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"I can't believe every damn supermarket is out of paper plates! What's this a conspiracy?"
Climbing back in the spare jeep, Nicholas revs up the engine.
"Don't take it personally. Happens. Prolly their summer stock is depleted."
"I guess you're right. Only one more place to try."
"Let's hit it!"
Reaching his neck around, to catch a view at the rear of jeep, to back out, Nicholas' eyes meet with Randy's. They steal a quick kiss from each other.
After traveling for over five minutes, Randy asks, "Is this place far?"
"A little out of our way. Kind of off the beaten path, but I'm sure they will have something for us."
"I don't like the looks of this area."
"Me neither, but I'll just dash in and out. Don't worry."
Still a country look, it wasn't the spiffed up area around where Anthony's mansion, nor the preface of Applegate University, it's polished off little boxes of houses, sitting along a tree-lined street. Instead, every other house, several yards apart, either had a broken down car in front, half stripped of wheels or hoods, or an out of date appliance. Some, the front yards looked like they hadn't been mowed for the whole summer.
"Here we go. Be out in a minute, Rand!" Nicholas told him, getting out.
"Make it a second?"
When Nicholas returned, all excited he found a hoard of paper plates, his grin wore down quick when he found Randy missing. Tossing the bundle in the jeep, Nicholas sought to canvass the immediate area. The jeep showed no signs of forced entry. Going back into the store, he asked one of the four cashiers if they had seen `a six foot tall, blond guy'? None stated they had or just didn't care, if they did. Running to each aisle, of the ten aisle store, he turned up nothing. It's then he really began to panic. Exiting, he came upon a guy, whom he determined part of management, if not the owner himself.
"Hey, I can't seem to find the passenger, whom waited for me, while I ran in here."
"Have you checked the jon?"
Turning out, the man was the manager, but not owner of the store. In short conversational fashion, it was relayed to Nicholas, the owner now lived in Florida, while the manager sweated away, incarcerated in the sticks, running a store, being taken advantage of', yet it was still a job'. If not for the fact Randy meant the world to him, he wouldn't have asked the manager for his help. All the way to the jon, hidden in the bowels of the store, the manager complained about the work load, compared to the measly amount of salary.
"Here we go."
"Way down here?"
"Yeah. At the bottom of the stairs, on the right."
Nicholas never made it to the jon, if in fact the basement of the store had been the location of it, at all.
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"Nicholas back yet?" Roberto asked, coming into the kitchen.
"Not yet."
"The guys are getting mighty hungry."
"Tell them to fill up on a protein drink!"
The two laughed.
"Hmm..."
Anthony knew the look on Roberto's face.
"Don't worry. You'll get yours tonight!"
"What if I can't wait? I'm feeling kind of weak."
Faking light-headedness, Roberto grabbed Anthony's arm, falling to his knees, right in front of a likely place. Smiling, he let nature take it's course.
"Oooooh, I feel soooo weak!"
"Hmm... I think I'm beyond helping you."
Roberto didn't wait for the final dialogue. Reaching up, he took Anthony's shriveled up cock and using it as a compass, pointed it to his mouth.
"Ooooooooh!" Anthony sighed, his butt wedging in between the corner cabinets of the kitchen.
In his hand, Anthony had a jar of chocolate syrup, caught in the act of getting condiments ready for the desert, different flavors of ice cream and toppings. As his tongue is swirling around the head of Anthony's cock, the cocksucker spies the jar.
"What?" Anthony questions his look.
Still locked on to his sucking toy, Robert signals with his eyes, the jar.
"This?" Anthony holds up the jar, coated inside with brown.
"Yeah. Gimme it!"
"What for?" He asks, jar already surrendered.
"I love chocolate," Roberto replies. "I like chocolate cream better!"
"No. You're not?"
Seeing it, but not stopping it, Anthony watches, as Roberto unscrews the lid. First he smells it, taking in the aroma. Then, with the opening facing Anthony's cock-tip, he moves it closer.
"You're not?"
Still, Anthony's arms brace himself on the edges of the countertops, wedged in the `L' section.
"Oh shit!" He calls out, as he feels his 9.5c enter the jar.
Pulling the jar away a little, they both look upon the head of Anthony's swollen shaft coated with the chocolate.
"Feel good?"
Anthony replies, giddish, "It doesn't feel bad!"
His comment gives Roberto the go ahead to continue. Slowly, Roberto lifts the jar.
"I think you hit rock bottom," Anthony says, feeling his piss slit on the bottom of the jar.
"Then it is time for cleanup!"
With total disregard, Roberto slides the jar out.
"Oops!"
A long strand of chocolate waterfalls from Anthony's cock. Being the jar only about five inches deep, a line of demarcation goes around the hard shaft, four and a half inches from the dark brown, bushy pubic region. In the dripping process, his big balls are partially coated.
"What are you waiting for? I thought you liked chocolate?"
Arching his back, Anthony hit his head on the microwave. Roberto didn't even flinch, as he closed his eyes, enjoying his sticky, chocolaty treat.
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Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection without prior written permission, by the author.