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 family affair wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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To Roberto's two pieces of luggage, Anthony packed one, as they assembled their items for their trip to Miguel's place.
"How come you are taking so many clothes?" Anthony inquires of his lover.
"Well, I'm sure not going to wait around, watching Miguel play with you."
"Oh? What are you going to do?"
"Visit some friends. On Saturday, I'll go to the local high school football game. Watch all those hot jocks run around and tackle each other!" Roberto reported, smiling.
"Trying to make me jealous, eh?" Anthony jokes.
"Is it working? `Cause I'd rather be going to the game with you along?" Roberto says, meekly.
"What! And disappoint your brother?"
"I don't think it will only be Miguel who is disappointed!" Roberto says, wise to Anthony.
Anthony smiles, as he closes his bag with only a pair of navy blue chinos, dress shirt, socks, briefs and a few little items. "I wonder what he's got in store for me?"
"When I talked to him... told him what time we'd be there, he told me he was going to make it so you would want to come back for more."
"Hot-diggity!" Anthony exclaimed favorably, wiggling his eyebrows.
"But I warned him..."
"I know. No marks and not to do anything that really was going to hurt."
Roberto says, "Oh, I didn't mention the hurting part."
"Yikes!" Anthony shouted out. But, deep down inside his loins tingled, with such want, coming with their impending trip.
"Miguel wanted to know if you made up your list? Did you?"
"Um, I sort of jotted a coupla things down."
"Like?"
Reaching in his pocket, Anthony unfolds a piece of paper, til it reaches full size. "Um, hanging from the hook of his tow truck, by my arms..."
"Naturally, I knew that. What else?"
"I liked how he had me stretched out on the lift."
Anthony, knowing last time he took some gut punches, waited for Roberto's reaction, looking at him.
Knowing what Anthony was doing, in his silence, Roberto says, "It's up to you Anthony. I don't want you going home on Sunday, complaining of a bellyache."
"I know, but I've been working on my crunches for the past month."
"It's up to you. What else?"
Placing his finger on the next option, Anthony moves it along, reading, "Lots of different bondage positions."
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that one."
"Oh? Why?"
"Because, one time I saw how creative Miguel could be," Roberto says.
"Really?"
Anthony's manner of question, dictated wanting to know more.
"One Saturday he entertained two college guys."
"Oh, I'd loved to have seen that!"
"Believe me, I did. Stripped down to the buff and tied, facing each other, suspended from the ceiling."
"Hmm, very erotic... are you sure you don't want to stick around?" Anthony asks Roberto.
"No. You and Miguel have your fun."
"We will, but for now...."
Roberto knows exactly what Anthony alludes to, looking at his bulging crotch.
"Feel like taking care of this?"
"Not right now. I have to get the turkey and everything ready to take. No, you'll have to take care of it yourself, Anthony."
Roberto steps out of their bedroom, heading downstairs to the kitchen. Wrestling with his thoughts, Anthony tries to decide whether to just wait for it to go down or jerk off. Feeling he's beyond the point of no return, he unbuckles his belt, separating the flaps of his pants. He lays down on half the bed. Lifting the elastic of his briefs, he anchors it under his big balls. He goes to town, stroking himself off. A little precum escapes and he adds it to the momentum, lube to fuel the fire.
"What's this?" He suddenly says, seeing Roberto at the door.
"I suppose I can pack the food later."
Anthony smiles. Kneeling on the bottom of the bed, Roberto crawls up to Anthony's crotch. He takes away his hand.
"Oh yeah," Anthony says, retracting his hand, wiping the wetness on his own stomach. He proceeds to put both hands behind his head. "Oooooooh that feels soooo good!"
Roberto has opened wide, enclosing his whole mouth around the 9.5c. Pushing down, he forces the head of Anthony's cock into his throat. Pursing his lips he strokes his lover, each time bearing down deeper, his throat taking up the slack. Soon his lips ride down to the base, the dark brown pubic hair tickling his stache.
"I think that's about all the coaxing I'll need, hon!"
Already feeling it, the pumping of Anthony's hips, Roberto figures he's very close. Reaching down, Roberto unzips his jeans and proceeds to work them off his hips. With precision, he takes each leg out, then drops the pants on the floor. He easily strips off his briefs.
"Quick!" Roberto calls out, "I want you inside me," He says, popping off the prepped shaft. With haste, he dives into the bed, trading places with Anthony.
Before his cock dries out, Anthony eases up to Roberto's hole, hands on his legs, separating his lover like a wishbone. Slowly he presses forwards, filling him up. All it takes is a few ins and outs and Anthony is howling with pleasure. Almost immediately, Roberto's own hand brings himself sheer joy, spurting ropes of cum onto his chest and stomach. Separating Roberto's legs, Anthony, pulled out and half-deflated, leans over onto Roberto, kissing him.
Roberto speaks softly into Anthony's ear, "That was, sooo so good."
Out of breath, out of cum and out of energy, Anthony closes his eyes, a hum returning a word of great satisfaction. Slipping out from under his lover, Roberto makes for the jon. After a quick shower, he dries off, picks his brief and pants up, getting dressed. He pulls his tee shirt out from under Anthony's legs. Being sweaty, he chooses another from his draw. Covering Anthony with a sheet, he leaves the room, going back to where he left off.
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An hour and a half later, after he's packed the food away in the car, he returns to the bedroom. He shakes awake Anthony's shoulder.
"Time to get on the road."
"I can't show up at Miguel's, looking like this."
"You better hurry. We don't want to wind up in traffic," Roberto says.
"Right," Anthony replies, remembering, in the letter Miguel sent, stating he expected his `boy' to hold off from masturbating for three days. As he turned on the shower, Anthony hesitated, grinning, wondering what would happen if Miguel found out he lied, saying he hadn't released his pent up balls for three days. Even in the shower, his mind fantasized over it.
"Anthony, you've been in the shower for fifteen minutes."
"Really, sweetheart?" Anthony replies, hastily passing the bar of soap over the place where his bod pressed against Roberto's load of cum.
Pulling the glass door half open, Roberto stares at Anthony's pubes, saying, "I thought so!"
Grinning, Anthony gently moves the soap over his pecs, as his other hand entertains his cock.
"Just hurry it up?" Roberto says, closing the door.
Ten minutes later, Anthony is trotting down the stairsteps.
"Did you follow Miguel's instructions, Anthony?"
"Yup. Got the black thong on he sent. Um, let's see..." he turns his head over his shoulder, same time feeling up his back pocket. "Yep, got the cuffs in my back pocket."
At the mention of the bondage tools, Roberto says, "I hope you two are going to take it easy, Anthony."
"What's this? You don't even trust your own brother?"
"Of course I do. It's just that, when the testosterone starts to boil, it's so easy to forget this is just a game."
"And?"
"Anthony, I don't want you getting hurt."
Snuggling up to his concerned half, Anthony encloses his arms around his stringbean lover, embracing him, administering sweet little kisses. Breaking, Anthony says, "You know, you didn't tell me how you made out with your new job at the Eskridge Cafe?"
"I'll tell you in the car. C'mon. I'll got the keys," Roberto says, leaving little space for any other conversation.
Picking up the last of their bags, the two make their exit, Anthony stuffing them in the rear.
"Hey Anthony!" the two hear, as they are about to pull away. "You forgot to say goodbye!"
"Oh." Then plainly, Anthony says, "Goodbye Nicholas."
Standing there, Nicholas' pose sends a message to Anthony. "Oh, alright," he says, opening his door and stepping out.
Scooping Anthony up in his arms, Nicholas says, "Now don't you go getting yourself too tied up in your fun with Miguel."
"Hey," Anthony says, "how did you know about...."
"Where's my hug?" Roberto asks.
With his head on Roberto's shoulder, Anthony standing behind them, Nicholas says, "He asked," pertaining to Roberto, "so I had to give my opinion!"
"Ask about what?"
"The bondage party?" Nicholas asks, as Roberto kicks him in the shin.
"It's not a party, Nicholas. It's just Miguel and I playing some bondage games."
Anthony didn't see it, the look Roberto and Nicholas traded off, knowing the difference in opinions he and Roberto held against Anthony's thoughts of how it was going to go.
"Just the same. Have a fun time," Nicholas said, as the two hopped back into the van.
As they pulled out of the yard, under the wrought iron bough, Nicholas headed back inside, watching the rear of the car, standing at the front door, grinning, knowing of the surprise awaiting Anthony.
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"Oh, you know what?"
"What?" Anthony asks, as they weave along the street, not far from the Delgado homestead.
"I knew I forgot something."
"What'd you forget, sweetheart?"
"The cranberries. No problem though. While you and Miguel are talking over old times, I'll run to the store and get some."
While in the driver's seat, Roberto drove the whole two hours, while Anthony either dozed or thought about his list of `endurances', thinking of some of the things Miguel talked about, in his letter. Writing back, Anthony either said something was alright to try, or changed an idea around, or ruled it out all together. As he thought more and more about serving or servicing Miguel, his cock rose to the occasion.
Pulling into the drive, Miguel was out the door, standing in the yard, lickety-split. He almost pulled Anthony out of the car, folding his arm around the twenty-seven year old swim coach.
"What can I help bring in?" Miguel asks, after giving Roberto a hug.
Yelling across the middle of the car, Roberto replies, "I've got to run to the store for cranberry sauce. When I come back, you can help bring the stuff in."
"Oh, okay," Miguel simply replies, winking at his brother.
Putting his arm over Anthony's shoulder, Miguel leads Anthony into the service station, his head peering back over their shoulders, spying the bulge in Anthony's back pocket, his request; the pair of handcuffs he sent to Anthony, neatly tucked in.
"Place hasn't changed," Anthony says, not noticing Miguel's evil grin on his face, nor detecting the excitement growing in the Latino's pants.
"Not in here, but I've had some other `equipment' installed in the garage, if you would like to take a look?"
"Got the new tow truck in there?" Anthony asks, as Miguel's hand touches the door knob.
"Oh, much more."
Blind to what he was about to be led into, Anthony kept walking forwards, through the door, saying, "Uh, where's the light switch?"
Being pitch black, Miguel heard Anthony fidget with his hand on the wall, just inside the door.
"I'll get that," Miguel says, loosening his grip on Anthony, letting him walk on his own.
As soon as the switch is flicked, the flourescent tubes on the ceiling light the place up, like a continuous lightning storm, then a steady stream of light throughout the auto shop.
"Oh shit!" Anthony voices his opinion, looking around, standing in the middle of a group of men, dressed in leather chaps, harnesses, boots and other `leather' definitions.
"Bet you thought this was the last you'd see of me, eh gringo?"
Anthony gulped, swallowing, when the guy from last time, Juan-the-gut-puncher stood before him.
"Take him, boys!"
"But..... Miguel...."
As hands grabbed at Anthony, targeting his arms, pinning them behind him, he searched the room for the likeness of Roberto's kin. Struggling did no good, as arms wrapped around his thighs, swept him off his feet.
"Hey! That's a good shirt you just ripped there!" Anthony complained, as buttons popped off at all angles, two hands tearing his shirt open, to reveal his hairy chest and trail. "What the fuck?" Anthony called out, readying to complain about his favorite belt, unbuckled, being withdrawn by a hand, out of nowhere.
"I'll take that!" The ringleader, the one who bashed in Anthony's gut, last visit. "This will make a nice toy, eh Gringo?"
Anthony didn't exactly favor the sound of his own belt making a sound, expertly snapped in midair, making a cracking noise. All through the whole experience of being manhandled, his shirt literally being torn from his body, except when pulled from his arms, his sneakers pulled off and tossed to the side, pants turned inside out, at his heels, then the final piece of clothing, his briefs taken down and off.
"Nice," came the statement, a hand putting pressure on Anthony's abs region, feeling out each ridge of his sixpack, his arms forced behind his back.
Though, being subdued by what he perceived as a gang of thugs, Anthony remained alert to two facts. One, being Miguel's promise not to inflict unbearable pain, having to answer to Roberto, with any infraction and two, though totally surprised by the lot of Latino's, his lower half wasn't adding any complaints to the matter.
Right out the back door of the station, two men carried him by the arms, same number, forcing his legs through the door opening. "What tha?" Anthony called out, as the two leaders, shoved his legs over a rope, depositing him in a square. With the cushy feel of the mat, he almost lost his footing. As he gained equilibrium, Anthony spotted the men form a circle around the ring of ropes, mat and the four posts holding everything in place.
"Miguel said you are a wrestler, gringo. Now we will see how good you are!" Juan says, his bod halfway through the middle of the rings.
Straightening himself out, Anthony thought to himself how easy this was going to be. He had already had Juan pegged as a non-athletic, non-workout guy, standing there at about five foot, nine or ten inches.
"From how Miguel speak of you, the years you have coached the wrestling team at your college, that you will be a worthy opponent."
After the buildup, Anthony drew a little smile to his lips, the confidence firing up his muscles, recalling some of those wrestling moves, both legit and pre-fabricated.
"The fact?" Juan went on, "I think maybe you are better than me."
Meant to insult, Anthony states, "No doubt, with that big `pig-belly' of yours!"
It put a grin on Anthony's face, as he stood there, defiant, same time believing he had it over on Juan, even before the match started.
"So much so, that I think it fair I have a partner?" Juan grinned.
The smile on Anthony's face turned upside down, as he watched, from the side, a beefy, bear-like man step under the top rope, leg over the bottom, hauling his muscled bod into the ring.
"Meet my tag-team partner, Alfredo," Juan said, a huge grin adorning his face.
Anthony stood there, mouth dropped open. Forcibly taking Anthony's hand in his, the hairy wrestler, gave him a hardy `hello'!
"Akkkkkkk, shit!" Anthony called out, at his palm being squeezed, as if in a vise, retrieveing it. "This isn't fair! Where's `my' tag team partner?"
"You didn't bring one?" Juan questioned, the same grin lingering. He looks around the backyard ring.
"I don't know what you're trying here, but..."
Suddenly, a bell dings, same time Miguel walking out the back exit of the station.
"Miguel, what the hell is.... ugggghhhhhhh!"
Unprepared, Alfredo's loaded fist, packs a punch to Anthony's midsection, causing him to cave in. After the hefty abs-punch, a whistle sounds above the shouting of accolades, from the bystanders, around the roped in ring.
"Rules, gentlemen?" Miguel shouts out.
Standing at the sideline, Miguel, decked out in his leather ensemble, boots, chaps, leather vest, signature cap and a leather vine draped down his chest, a silver whistle attached, his look elliciting everyone's attention.
"Care to recite the rules for our guest wrestler, Alfredo?"
"Um, I thought you said there ain't none?" Alfredo replies.
"No rules, Miguel?" Anthony barked out, holding his hand to his gut, rubbing it, as he races across the mat. "Besides, `this' wasn't on either my list, nor yours. What gives?"
"Last time you were here, you showed interest in having a wrestling match, Anthony. It's like you begged me?"
"That was then. I'm not a wrestling coach anymore. I manage swimmers."
The excuse didn't cut it, where Miguel was concerned, bent sure on a wrestling match taking place, thoroughly convinced Anthony would be thanking him for the rough experience, even though he protested now.
"Tell you what I'm gonna do," Miguel starts out, with Juan's and Alfredo's attention, Anthony ready to hear the wrestling match is history, "I'll bend the `no rules' clause just this once. Pick which man you want to start with."
"Pick? I didn't even have this on my list... you didn't have it on the list you sent me!"
Looking to the clock hanging on the side of a tree, Miguel announces, "You have two minutes to choose, Anthony. Which half of the tag-team will it be? Juan or Alfredo?"
"That's another thing! Two against one?"
"Not my fault you didn't bring anybody with you!"
"No. This is `not' going to happen," Anthony strongly states, a hand on the top rope, a foot almost outside the blue mat, just about to touch the sparsely populated green against dirt.
"Your choice, but before you step out of the ring, let me caution you."
`Caution' was enough to make Anthony stop and wait for the conniver to talk.
"Well say it and get it over with, Miguel!" Anthony responded, bod in limbo between in and outside the professionally looking, homemade boxing ring.
"Let me review the choices. You can either start with Alfredo in the ring, or Juan... however, if you decide to step outside the ring, you surely will have more contencers than you bargined for!"
Turning from Miguel, Anthony took the cautionary measure to heart, as he saw the other band of Latinos gather around the side, stand near him, a circle like a dam to hold the water back.
From behind his back, he heard Alfredo badger, "C'mon... pick me, gringo. I want a chance to pound those abs."
"In your dreams!" Anthony said, realizing there wasn't any way out of this, then to walk out of the ring as a victor. He gulped, when he thought the opposite, being carried out on a slab. Then, it flashed into his mind; Roberto. Miguel wouldn't dare allow anything too menacing happen to him. A fate worse than torture, would be to have his younger brother cursing Miguel out over `getting hurt' or worse, knocked out!
"One minute and counting," Miguel stressed. "Fifty-nine, fifty-eight..."
Another psychological pawn, made Anthony nervous. The heat of the sun, pouring out of the sky, into the high-walled backyard, created the sensation of being baked in an oven. His right hand had already sensed this, sliding over his stomach, to the side of his bod to catch some annoying drips of sweat.
Of course Anthony wasn't going to give Alfredo the benefit of doubt, choosing, "Juan," as he stepped back into the ring.
Right as he said it, outside the ring there arose a bunch of grumbly words, out of the corner of his eye, seeing one leatherman reattach his flogger to his belt. A short blast of the whistle, everyone looked to Miguel, who threw his thumb over his shoulder, announcing, "Alfredo, out!"
As Anthony ran his hands down his bod, his face stayed constantly in focus with the look on Alredo's face, a look of hate, a lust for hurting.
Upon hearing the bell, Anthony's head swished to the opposite side of the ring, keying in on Juan. As in his own high school and college experiences, Anthony drew off his own knowledge, regardless of the fairlness or freewill of the match. Walking in a circle, the two didn't take their eyes off of each other. Anthony saw his `in', when one of the sideliners yelled, "Pulverize the bitch!"
As soon as the little smirk formed on Juan's face, plus the break in eye sight, him quickly glancing outside the ropes, Anythony made his move. Since there were no rules, he did his best to live by Miguel's code. Even Juan's Doc Martin's were no match for Anthony's high jump, his right foot landing on Juan's toes. With the sigh of pain, Anthony hastily side-swiped him, putting two hands together, like praying and pounded them against his agressors back. Falling forward, Anthony heard Juan's belly fall against the mat, making a `farting' sound. Immediately, he dropped his ass on the chub's back, facing his ass and grabbed at the boot on his left foot, hauling it backwards.
In pain, Juan tried squirming about, to break free, but Anthony was the man in control. "Feel good, Juanita?" Anthony slandered him, as he bent Juan's leg back, actually getting a kick out of the bear crying out for help. "Since it's Thanksgiving, how about a wishboner!"
Reaching underneath Juan, Anthony took hold of the codpiece attached to the zip side of the pants, tearing it off, the sound of snaps all unfastening at once. Anthony didn't know where this act of sadism came from, but getting up, with lightning speed, he took hold of Juan's legs, pulling them apart, his foot stepping in between, his bare toes making contact with a set of hairy balls.
"Ring the damn bell!" Juan called out, in between his gasps of pain.
Instead of sympathy, Miguel chided Juan, praising Anthony, "Yeah, tear that wishbone apart, Anthony!"
Of course, no one would think of challenging Miguel, even though Alfredo ground one hand into the palm of another, threw off sweat, as he thought, `Have your fun... wait til I have you on your knees, begging to suck my cock, boy!'
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Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection without prior written permission, by the author.
The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....