% This work of fiction is set in the format of real-world situations. Identifying details to real people, alive or dead, is entirely coincidental in nature.
% Sexual safety matters. Guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt! Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have over the years, consider adding some $upport for `internet $pace' or else I will have to start cutting handsome, hairy or steamy characters out of my stories. Do you dare imagine a story without any tops?
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`See The Good In All Things' 14
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
(Dr. Rick Webster & Chad's flashback of their past, continues)
%
Finally, after all that dillydallying at his locker, not which Richard meant to spend more a couple of minutes, he locks up and leaves. Unlike this morning, just another day at school, the various happenings gave him plenty to think about. Heading for the front door, he forgot something important, that 'Derek' was meeting him after school. Turning around he faces an empty hallway, trying to recall if it was void of human life when he left?
'Fuck it,' he thought, heading off towards Derek's..."no," he says out loud, thinking he had to forget that and address him at his proper title. When he reaches the suite of offices he finds all lights out and the head secretary locking the door.
After informing her, "but I have an appointment with Dr. Winters?"
"Everyone has left for the day. I don't know what to tell you, son."
She was old enough to be Richard's mother, but she had left him and his father ages ago.
"Okay. Thanks. I prolly got it wrong."
However, Richard knew he had it right. Could it be the school psychologist was so disorganized, that he forgot? Then, as he walked the deserted hallway back to the main entrance, Richard was indignant, "how could he forget me?"
For certain, ever since he met Derek, he was the biggest impression of his month of high school. Not only smart, he was...
There it was, something Richard had yet to admit to himself, the school psychologist was gorgeous. Sure, there were movie actors, rock stars, teachers past and present, even some students who turned Richard on.
Having drawn superheroes, he used the same paper and pencils to draw some of these men, naked, even when he didn't know what their dicks looked like, he pretended. When he drew Justin Bieber, Richard made a mock drawing, adding cuffs to Justin's wrists and having him on his knees at the mercy of his science teacher, Mr. Gallo.
Richard smiled, thinking of it right now. He had penciled in Gallo's crotch and because he was a tough teacher, he had the biggest dick and balls. He wound up erasing his science teachers balls, thinking no dude could have globes that big!
It teased Richard to think of it now, causing him to smile, giggle a little, but quickly came back to reality when pushing the handle on the entrance door.
More to it than that, walking down the main staircase, there was a BMW parked at the curb, a guy outside and waving both hands. At first Richard wondered what he was saying, but then made out it was himself, "me?" being called!
Getting closer, the waving arms of recognition changed to beckon him, "c'mon. I'll give you a ride home."
The driver got back in, unrolling the passenger window.
Richard folded himself in half and peered through.
"Thought I'd give you a ride home and while at it, we can talk?"
"Uh," Richard stood up and looked around. Not seeing anyone but the secretary ride past, he bends back down, "okay, but are you allowed to do this?"
Dr. Winters says, "I won't tell anyone, if you won't?"
He got in, parking his butt in the seat, questioning, "but the secretary, she saw me, and probably knows your car?"
"We're good friends. She won't say anything, trust me."
Eyes all over the inside, Richard says, "nice car."
"Thanks. It was a graduation present from daddy."
He didn't mention Derek's father as being some bigwig architecture, Richard dwelling on his own upbringing, "I'm lucky to have a bicycle, and I had to buy it myself."
Feeling like he was gloating, Winters says, "sorry 'bout that. I didn't mean to brag."
"I know. It is what it is."
It seemed to Derek like the atmosphere in his car had been cut down two notches, Richard acting in a condescending manner. It had been on his mind to talk about the ordeal with Blade. He decides to go off topic.
"Do you want to talk about 'how things are'?"
"I don't know. I'm hungry, I'm tired and I have homework yet to do. I better get home."
One thing Derek had on Richard, being the school psychologist, he was able to bring up the ninth grader's records. He already knew Richard was from a mixed up family situation, mother running off and father raising a child into the teenager years.
"If you want, we can stop for some burgers?"
In addition to his own burden of homework, Richard knew the house had to be in tiptop condition when his dad got home, including dishes washed, dried, put away. Though, his after routine after routine, he knew his father wouldn't be home till after midnight on Friday nights.
Without all that drudge moved off his slate of immediacy, Richard says, "sure. Would be cool."
However, instead of pulling up to a burger joint, Derek pulls into the jughandle of a restaurant.
"I thought we were going for burgers?"
"We are, but here they call it 'Salisbury Steak'!"
"C'mon," Derek jimmies the handle and gets out.
"You're going to park right here?"
Looking around, Derek sees three guys standing at a lectern-type of box, "hey Chris, you busy?"
This dude comes over, saying, "right away Dr. Winters," he approaches the driver's side.
Bending over, the psych says, "well, are you going to get out, or take a ride with Chris around back?"
It made Richard smile, the way it was put. Although, he did have a yearning, based on what Chris looked like, that he wouldn't mind 'taking a ride'!
But that would be rude, so Richard let himself out and follows the doc's lead.
One thing that phased Derek, that Richard did not match the picture in his file. It did not do the lad justice. Whereas he was a ninth grader, Richard seemed to act more mature and looked more like a junior of senior, at least carrying himself that way. He also noticed the age difference.
Instead of relying on records, he wanted to hear the whole story from Richard.
Upon entering the door of the fancy shmancy restaurant they are greeted by, not in a happy sense, "really, Derek?"
Looking down his plain shirt, Derek says, "my bad, Conor, but I guess I'd have to get up earlier in the morning to put anything past you?"
It's not which Conor was ignoring the lad at Derek's side, but he had a job to do as well. An upscale restaurant had proper protocols, like the dress code.
"You know the drill?"
Indeed, it wouldn't be the first time Derek stepped inside the walls of the elite eatery, with informal attire.
"That I do, but the question remains, are you going to have a size to fit my friend?"
"You know we aim to please," Conor says, walking away towards a side room, "and if we don't I'll send out." Finally he addresses Derek's sidekick, "what's your name lad?"
"Richard Webster."
Tall for his age, Richard stood at 5-feet, 10-inches, which could give anyone the impression he was older.
"Boyfriends?"
"Oh my god, Conor, he's a high school student!"
"Really? And a fine looking one at that, if you know what I mean?"
With Conor's hand on the door handle, Derek says, "Conor, behave?"
Richard was wondering how Conor would be if he misbehaved!
"Of course, siry best behavior!"
From then on Conor didn't make anymore wise cracks, but Richard felt his eyes on him, when they weren't following Derek.
Once inside the room, Conor announces, "you know the routine."
"Um, if you're affended by this Richard, we can use separate dressing rooms?"
He gave Richard an idea of what he meant, Derek taking the tales of his shirt and ripping it off overhead.
Gazing at that beautiful assault of hairy pecs, abs and trial leading into Derek's pants, "um," he had to swallow, "not really. I mean, no, we don't need separate rooms." Being said, Richard thought it sounded kind of suggestive, like they were talking about bedrooms and not fitting rooms, "I mean, being in high school I'm an adult now and can take on that responsibility, right?"
"I couldn't have put it better myself!"
Taking the light jacket he had on, off, Richard says, "you can keep going. I'll catch up."
Call it being inquisitive, or just another gay man, wanting to view the 'eyecandy' of lay under another man's clothing, Derek slowly works his belt buckle, paying mind to the stripping ninth grader.
Richard wasn't a dumbunny. He had watched numerous gay porn videos, knew some of the moves. However, he wasn't about to resemble a Casper Cole stripdown flick. He was aware of the doc's eyes and that he stalled out. Yet, accepted it, dropping his jacket over a chair and then proceeds to strip his tee shirt off.
"I hope I'm not out of line, but from a gay man's point of view, you have a fine looking bod, Richard."
"Well then," Richard steps two steps forward, "I guess I can say the same for you, Derek."
He didn't mind they were on a first name basis, being they weren't on school grounds. The only thing Derek had to worry about was not allowing his crotch to rule his thinking!
"Thanks," Derek left it as that.
"You two have the luck of the Irish today, laddies," Conor comes with two outfits, covered in plastic.
"Trust me," Derek puts a hand on Richard's shoulder, "if Conor says it will fit you, it will."
It's then he realizes, his hand touching flesh, "sorry about that, Ricard. I didn't mean to... you know?"
"No problem. I'll get even!"
They laughed over it, but like hell did Richard want to touch Derek. With him talking with Conor, he really had the time to ogle over the school counselor. No doubt he worked out, having a nice set of pecs, not a sixpack, but close to it and the way all that hair began under his chin and coursed down over his bod, it made his mouth water. Probably a result of watching all those gay porn videos, his favorite, Casper Young, the way he lickes his lips at the prospect of the camera focusing on Preston Cole's chest, then stomach, then...then Richard thought he better get his mind off of porn, before he pops a boner and makes him want to act like he's in a porno flick!
Of getting even, Derek says, "is that a threat, a promise or an I.O.U.?"
Richard said nothing, but feeling flushed in the face, knew he was blushing.
Seeing the bright redness of Richard's face, Richard veers off, onto the subject of the clothing.
Conor whisphers in Derek's ear, "first time for the lad?"
"Don't make it sound like it's something it's not, Conor."
"Of course. I meant nothing by it."
"I know you didn't."
After their whispering, Derek takes the smaller of the two black tuxedos and turns around, "oh my god!"
"Told you I'd get even!"
There was Richard, stripped down to his briefs!
"You sure did."
Derek couldn't help but scope out Richard's crotch.
Knowing this, Richard says, "so, on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the biggest balls and fattest cock you've ever seen, how do I measure up?"
"I'm here to counsel you, not give you a lecture on sex education. Here, take this and try it on," he hands Richard hangers containing a shirt, slacks and jacket.
Then Derek felt like the victim of a porn movie, careful to quickly strip out of his pants and for one moment thought of turning his crotch to the wall. But what would that serve, them being grown men?
Like it was the locker room of phys-ed class, the two went at it. After all, Richard had already seen half of what Derek owned and superficially, because of the shrink wearing bikini briefs.
"Nice underwear," Richard smiles, this time not blushing.
"Thanks. Um, how would I measure up on a scale of 1 to 10?"
"Did you change your mind about counseling me?"
They were paying more attention to themselves than Conor, standing off to the side, with the urge to keep a hand in a pocket.
Finally dressed, Derek had no problem tying his bowtie.
Richard was all fingers, saying, "I tried following how you do it, but it's just not working out."
"Let me give you a hand."
"Okay," Richard accepts the helping hands, stepping to where they were closer than needed be.
Shooing him away, Derek says, "step back."
Next thing you know, Derek's head is cocked to the side and with a hand on one hip, "not that far, you bozo!"
Smiling, Richard takes one step forward.
"Closer," Derek mimicks with a hand.
One more step.
"Closer," like hell Derek wished he would keep stepping until their lips met!
"How's this?"
"Perfect," even thought Derek wasn't thinking it perfect, because whereas his hands could reach, his lips could not!
"I've never worn a tux before."
"About time you've started. Four years will fly by and in no time you'll be at doorstep of your senior prom."
Richard dares to say, "will you go with me?"
"Don't be silly. By the time you reach 12th grade you'll be 18 and I'll be hitting 30."
"So?"
"So, you trying to get me fired?"
"Damn," it hit home that they weren't friends but student and counselor, "I forgot about that!"
Standing there, a lull in looking like perfect gentlemen, Richard felt like he was in a dream world, "yeah, me too."
Conor was forthcoming, "if you're not going to eat tonight, I'd suggest getting a room?"
Derek forms a flat palm, striking it with a fist, "pow, Conor!"
"Joking, okay?"
Richard had a feeling they were good friends. Maybe more, he wasn't sure. He hadn't a fixture in a gay society to recognize the signs.
Then, standing there, side by side, Derek and Richard stood there like Batman and Robin, ready to take on their first caper.
"Well, Conor, what do you think, are we up to your standards?"
Standing there, arms crossing his abs, Conor observes, "in my own opinion, you two would make a fine couple at that!"
"Really?" Richard thought it kind of cool.
"And when did you first get an impression, Conor?"
The ginger-haired maitre'd stood there and speculates, "oh, probably right after you walked in the door of my restaurant."
"Your restaurant, Conor? Aren't you being a little presumptious?"
"We all have our secrets."
'Yeah,' Richard thinks on it, 'that being more than friends might have a part of Conor and Derek's history?'
"Oh really, and being we've never kept secrets from each other, Conor," Derek has walked with a swagger up to where the maitre'd stands like a statue.
Smiling, anyone would know there is more to come, "I am not just maitre'd of this restaurant, a position you know I have learned to enjoy, meeting so many people?"
Derek jumps in with, "not to mention, 'men'?"
"I suppose, once upon a time, that distinction fell on you?"
Standing witness to all this cat and mouse play, it's not that Richard was not getting anything out of it. More from a psychological perspective, it became a lesson for him, on how gay men act towards each other. The more the two interacted, the more Richard suspected something more than a friendship here.
"Like a ton of bricks," Derek says, a gesture of rubbing his crotch with fingers, "of which I'm still finding it 'hard' to recover?"
"It's not like I didn't get you back, Derek, or rather, got your back?"
It looked like a scene played out about 5 years ago, when Conor had just got his feet wet in the restaurant business, Derek being his very first customer he met after hours.
Conor had just said, Richard picking up on it and recycling the phrase, "uh, you two want to get a room?"
Derek made excuse, "you want to show us to our table, or what, Conor?"
"Sure, put all the blame on me," Conor sets his feet in motion.
"Y'know," Richard interjects.
"What?" Conor and Derek say at once.
"You two would make a cute couple."
After saying it, Richard wanted to retract it. In a way, when Conor began paying more attention to Derek, than doing his job, jealousy crept in. Like in a porn movie, Richard faced a near-naked man, his first man outside of the boys in the high school locker room or showers, with a gut reaction of wanting to reach out and touch Derek's chest. He thought of going further in his daydreaming, but he had already gotten hard and in an attempt not to tent anything, he gave up on those would be thoughts!
Hastily Derek and Conor gave up on the suggestion. Exiting the back room, Derek saw the reason the parking was empty. The huge room, lined with tables, tables with fancy tableware, real cloth napkins and a silver candle holder in the center of each table, fresh flowers seemed more like a morgue, not a sound to be heard, except for something being dropped in the kitchen.
Of it, Richard says, "oops, there's goes someone's week's salary!"
Derek laughs.
Conor remarks, "the laddie there's got a sense of humor!"
Looking to Richard, Derek says, "yeah, a regular barrel of laughs."
On the way to their table, which Conor leads them to the center of the dining room, Derek complains, "I can't believe you made us dress up, when we're the only two diners in the room, Conor?"
"Thinking of only yourself again, Derek? What happens if while you are wining and dining, another patron enters? What am I to do, whisk you off to the side and make you change, making your hot dinners wait for you on the table?"
Richard, smiling at Derek take the heat, says, "he's got a point there, Doc."
He wasn't sure, whether to call Derek 'Derek' or act in a professional manner.
"Right again, Conor!"
"You can thank me later," Conor winks.
By the way the pair of conversing, back and forth with the gay stuff, Richard got to thinking payback would not be with a Hallmark greeting card.
So relaxed was the relationship between friends, when another patron enters the eatery, Conor hands two menus to Derek, saying, "here, seat yourself and your boyfriend and look the menu over," he slaps the heavy paper against Derek's chest.
As he leaves, Derek slanders, "he's not my boyfriend!"
Richard didn't say anything, but wishfully thought, wouldn't that be nice!
Turning around, Derek says, "he didn't mean that."
"Yeah, I know," thought Richard, ever since they stood half-naked in front of each other, wanted to believe otherwise. "You going to stand there or hold my chair for me?"
"Aren't you the prissy one!"
Though, as Derek scoots Richard and his chair under the table, he had thought about something like that, especially after viewing Richard's folder back at school. In light of what had happened, what was said, maybe this was a good time to bring facts out into the open.
Taking a menu, Richard looks at the first page, then second and without reading much, searched the third, fourth and fifth.
"What's the matter?"
"Who ever it was that printed these menus made a mistake."
"How so?" Derek questions.
"They forgot to put the prices!"
It made Derek laugh.
Even though he didn't know why, it was infectious, Richard smiling, "what'd I say?"
"Oh, nothing about you," though that smile did make Derek feel giddy, "it's just that, in upscale restaurants such as this, they don't put prices on the menu. Y'see, it's assumed a person has enough big bucks in the bank to afford to even set foot in here."
"They charge you for just coming in?"
With a grin on Richard's face, Derek reads into this, "you're shittin' me, right?"
"Yeah," Richard replies, "but I didn't know they didn't have prices on the menu for real?"
Whether Richard set foot in such a lux restaurant or not, it was a good lead in for Derek, "well, being you're at such a young age, you probably have not had the experience to know?"
Everything had been smooth sailing, up until now, Richard's mood changing, "I had it when people do that."
"Do what?"
"If you want to ask me something, stop being a shithead and ask?"
It were strong words, but somehow Derek thought he deserved it, "okay, you mind telling me how a seventeen year old winds up in the ninth grade?"
It wasn't that big a deal, Richard backing down and being he thought he was getting off on the right foot, only to lean to the left, "I'm sorry. For calling you a shithead."
"Apology accepted."
If Richard had said that to his old man, especially after he came home from drinking at 2am, it could mean going to basement, stripping his shirt, holding both ends of the workbench and taking a half dozen licks of the strap. With vague memories of that and how forgiving, Derek is being, he tries changing his mood.
"Really, I'm sorry."
"Can we move on?"
"Okay," Richard says, trying to force a smile to his face.
"In fact, since you're almost eighteen, I think a celebration is in store."
Richard questions, "celebration?"
From the file, "correct me if I'm wrong, but in two months you will be celebrating your eighteenth birthday?"
A good thing, Richard had thought, but the downside, being a ninth grade student, which would probably bring restrictions, "of which I am and am not looking forward too. Why do you ask?"
"Well," Derek drops his menu to the table and sits forward, leans elbows on the table, about to lay down a secret, "when you turn eighteen, you will be of legal age for me to ask you out on a date!"
Derek sits back, folding hands in confidence, like he just bagged it.
"If that's going to be a date, what do you call this?"
"Hmm," Derek rubs his thin beard, "you got me there."
Good thing Conor shows up, "so, have you had a chance to peruse the menu?"
Having viewed items he never heard of, like escargot, tripe, and other weird words, Richard says, "all I really wanted was a burger and fries?"
His head shifting back on his shoulder, like Conor was thinking it repulsive, he repeats, "burger and fries?"
Smiling, because he loved humiliating his old friend, "make that two burgers and fries, Conor!"
Pointing a finger, not at Richard, but at Derek, "you're calling my bluff again, aren't you?"
Indignantly Derek says, "how hard could it be, Conor?"
"Come to the back room and I'll show you how hard!"
He left the table all in a huff, mumbling, "burger and fries. Huh, the nerve of this guy!"
Richard did hear the reference, but played it safe, "Conor's not really mad, is he?"
"Nah. We fuck like that with each other all the time."
While it was mentioned, Richard smiles, saying, "do you really?"
Derek was left with his jaw sagging open, but then fessing up, "we have from time to time."
With this getting gritty, Richard says, "do you fuck him, or does he fuck you?"
Derek looked around. There wasn't anyone within hearing distance, but made it like they were sitting right nextdoor, "I think we should save that subject until another time. Afterall, we're here to talk about you."
"Me? I thought we were here because I was hungry?"
"That too. Now, you want to tell me how you got screwed out of graduating from level to levels of your education?"
Richard wasn't sure about this. With exposing the truth he would opening up on some of those secrets he held dear to his heart, ones that no one should know.
"How far back do you want me to go?"
He thought this was going to be cut and dry, but Derek senses more than a family moving around, planted in a school, only to be ripped out and education taken somewhere else.
"I think the beginning would be a good place to start?"
Not sure how much he wanted to divulge, Richard finds excuse, "it could take a while?"
"I've got all night, but your father, he might be wondering your whereabouts?"
Undressing the fanciful napkin, Richard treads lightly, "uh yeah, about that."
Richard was saved for the moment, Conor returning with a tray. So wrapped up in their own business, neither had noticed the wheeled cart, elegantly dressed with desserts.
"Really, Conor," Derek says, "I know Richard probably doesn't mind it, but I'd like to have my dinner first?"
Unlike something Conor would say, he does anyway, "if I didn't have a restaurant full of patrons, I'd butt heads with you."
Speaking softly, Derek never wanting to offend Conor on his own turf, he softly reacts, "I'd much rather butt something up against your butt!"
"If I were you laddie, I'd stay away from bad influences such as Derek."
Surprising both older men, Richard says, "oh, because you might think I want to butt up against him?"
Tilting his head and contorting his lips, Derek says, "now there's a thought!"
Coughing to clear his throat, Conor says, "you've got a live wire there, Derek." Carrying on with his job, he pulls two brown bags from under the cart, "the chef says burgers and fries are not his specialty, so I took the liberty of ordering out from down the road."
"Really?" Richard digs into his bag, unraveling the top and placing almost his whole face inside.
"You're supposed to eat it, not inhale it, Richard!"
Conor was more concerned with the volume of patrons, "if you're satisfied with what's in the bags, choose some desserts to wrap, pick up your stuff and leave. I need the table!"
"Rude," Derek says facetiously. "I'd like to see the manager?"
Conor reports, "you're seeing him."
"You got a promotion, Conor?"
"Not only that, I now own the place!"
Seeing a genuine side of Derek, Richard watches him get up, first shaking his hand and then planting a kiss on his cheek, "congratulations."
Then, from the table adjacent to them, another couple, men get out of their seats and approach, each adding a hand shake, reeling Conor in for a kiss, "we overheard Conor."
The other saying, "we're very happy for you."
The first dude announces, "hey everyone, Conor now owns the joint!"
Richard felt awkward, but being all the others were doing it, coming over to Conor, either shaking his hand, kissing him on the cheek or lips, or hugging, decided to do the same, both for Conor's benefit, but also engage in the first time he's hugged a man.
On the way out of what would eventually become 'Conor's European Cuisine', Derek says, "that waiter sure was impressed with you?"
Of the young waiter, grabbing a dessert box and placing, double-decker, desserts in it, at least a dozen in all, put it in Richard's hands, telling him that was his number written on the top of the box and not that of the restaurant!
"Something I'm not familiar with. Want to explain?"
Opening the small trunk of his BMW roadster, Derek placed the two brown paper bags, motioning for Richard to do the same with the dessert box, "when we get in the car."
Getting in the car, still in black tuxedos, Richard says, "what about the threads?"
"Fringe benefits," Derek says, pressing a button to rev up the engine. "Where else can we get some nice tux's for free!"
It humored Richard, "do you do this all the time?"
"Yup. Where else would you think I got a whole closet of free tux's!"
After driving a couple of blocks, Richard asks, "so, about the cell number on the box?"
"James. He's always hustling after a few bucks to reduce the cost of tuition."
"You mean he's a hooker?"
It made Derek laugh out loud, "nowadays it's called an escort. At least I in particular find it a little more refined."
"You hired him?"
"Fringe benefits, actually. I invited him over to the house and not only found he's a good kisser," Derek coughs, which could be construed as other beneficial things, "but he also does a good job at cleaning a pool."
"Built in or above ground?"
"In ground."
This is how their conversation evolved, bouncing from subject to subject as the area of interest came and went.
However, in the end it came full circle, "so, you think I should give James a call?"
"First I think you I should," Derek pulls into a circular driveway, "find out more about you."
But everything discussed seemed to move off the table, Richard's attention now focusing on the panorama which unfolded.
The house passing by Richard's view, like a fast-moving train, "this is all yours?"
"That it is," Derek parks.
"I think I'm become a psychology counselor!"
When Derek's father had posed the question, to pick out one of any of the family's five homes of which to reside, he chose the most modest one of all, in West Windsor. Carved out of a parcel which used to be a farm, it was situated on seven acres. In years which followed the building of the main house, planted trees have formed a forested area in the rear and outcroppings around the home. Pulling in the cobblestone drive, the L-shaped home in the front gives way to a pool and tennis court in the back. His father loved horses, but Derek was not so keen on it, so turned the modest stable into a pool house and relaxation area, an open area a dance floor for parties.
Right at the front door, a person could not view all these amenities, which noticing Richard blown away, "wait till you see the back yard!"
Picking the food out from the back of the roadster, Richard responds, "I can't even imagine!"
Entering the home, Richard says, "modern. I like that."
With raised eyebrows, over the fact a teenager picked up on period furnishings, "that's interesting."
"What is?" Richard says, standing there with the box of desserts.
"Well, any other teenager would not be standing there admiring a painting, instead racing to the refrigerator!"
Smiling at Derek, he says, "but I'm not like other teenagers."
"So I'm getting the impression!"
Heading for the kitchen Richard felt like he was walking the halls of an art museum, "you picked all these out?"
Balancing the two brown bags with one arm hugging his ribs, Derek grabs Richard by the arm, "c'mon you, or the burgers will be cold and the desserts warm."
"I just want to see."
"You'll have plenty of time to see," though at this point Derek wasn't sure if he meant the next two hours, tonight, tomorrow or the whole weekend!
%
Chad was getting fidgety. Already, he had contemplated calling his superior, wanting to be put on the this particular case. When he finally did give into his whims, it was explained to Chad, 'what case?', when in fact there was nothing left to investigate.
Then, when he said, "those animals have to pay for what they've done."
Cell to his ear, Chad hears, "and they will get what's coming to them, but for you, Chad," said like talking to an endeared partner, "you need to let this go and let us do our job. In fact, you're on extended vacation until I say so!"
After pocketing his cell, Chad sat there. Dean hadn't made even a twitch of his nose since waking, seeing his brother and then falling off to sleep. With nothing changed, it got Chad to thinking about his job.
High school was a breeze for Chad, graduting top of his class, handed the job of valedictorian. First year of college, same. With a stretch of three more years of criminal justice ahead of him, Chad looked upon it as a repeat of high school, nose to the books, studying, writing term reports, exams and moving onto the next level. He wanted more. He wanted to be out there in the field. He wanted to be out there helping people, not just helping himself.
First year in college he decided to try out one of those Warrior events for charity. He failed miserably, thinking he must've eaten dirt, swallowed mud, in fact paying a visit to the doctor afterwards, thinking gall stones were growing in his stomach from the ordeal! He went on to not only do another Warrior, but got into triathlon. Chad had already been a good jogger in high school and from a young kid into his teen years rode a bicycle at a good pace. Swimming was not his forte, but after being tutored by a guy on the college team, Phil, he not only kept his head above water, finding when he dove under, he could hold his breath for more than an ample amount of time.
Chad and his dad didn't get along, which as it went, they never spent holidays together. Instead, one particular Thanksgiving, he accompanied Phil on a trek to the family home in Belle Mead. There he met Phil, Sr, Phil's dad and surprised he had a male partner, Greg.
Over dinner he learns Phil Sr. is often away on business. It's understood, while he is gone, Greg is allowed to have men visit the estate.
Never knowing of a relationship of this status, Chad is curious, "you mean you have a boyfriend?"
Greg, who sits and with Phil Sr., while lounging at poolside, holds hands, freely saying, "more like boyfriends."
Phil, the son, who when is at home it called, 'Junior', says, "how many was it had here last time dad went away, Greg?"
It was not said in a malicious manner. Phil Jr. joking.
"Oh," Greg estimates, "four or five. No more than that."
Also explained in detail, what happens at these private parties, they lounge at the totally in the buff and sex is distributed by multiple partners.
Junior, who is neither bisexual, nor gay, says, "good thing Greg gives me the head's up when these parties take place. Like one time, I was in the middle of a shower and this dude shows up totally naked and walks in on me!"
Chad, who has known Junior well enough, jokes, "did you scream like a girl?"
"Our secret, man?"
"Oh yeah," Chad rubs it in, "I forgot I wasn't supposed to mention you scream like a girl!"
Sitting by the heated pool, in November, naked, Phil grabs Chad arms around his middle and pulling them both in the pool, takes to wrestling with him.
When they surface, each under their own will, Chad says, "are you sure you're not gay?"
"It should be the farthest thing from your mind, dude."
But it wasn't. Fact is, before and after they were in the pool, Chad felt Phil's dick on his ass. He wondered if it were ordinary horseplay, or were there alternative motives?
"I don't know, Phil. It was like, 'your dick', it was wedged in there?"
Growing up with two dads, Phil takes everything in stride, joking as if there was a houseful of Greg's friends, "hmm, come to think of it, your ass did feel kind of awesome!"
That prompted more horseplay. It then was observed by Phil Sr., not which Chad didn't have such a fox bod, but that when he and his son were underwater, Chad could hold his breath much longer, cutting like a submarine through the water, from one end of the pool to the other.
"Where did you learn to swim like that, son?"
"Phil. He taught me everything I know," Chad said, bouyant in the pool, as he looked up at the hairy man.
Something Chad liked very much from the time he became of age, along with his peers, is hair covering a man's bod. Such an obsession, when in high school, he used to go right home, get out his drawing pad and after sketching a crude bod, hea, shoulders, midsection and beyond, scraped the edge of a pencil, filling in the pattern of hair covering each area, or leaving as a void. To this day Chad has his artwork put away, taking it out to add a new man to his collection of hairy patterns.
Looking up from the pool, on Chad's mind was not what Phil Sr. said about joining the Navy, eventually the Seals, but that chest of dark hair, the trail separating his abs, darker stripe in the middle, over a dark navel, treasure trail and the bush around his ample size cock and danglers.
Half paying attention, Chad got most of the gist of it, responding to what he thought, "I'll think about it sir. Thank you."
A few thinks were going on here.
Phil Jr. had taken his leave, butting knuckles with Chad, excusing himself, that he had a hot date.
Phil Sr. gave Chad the Navy, Navy Seals sales pitch.
More focused than anyone had been Greg, a few years younger than Phil Sr., lying there in a lounge chair, legs spread, hand working himself up.
After their conversation, Phil Sr. says, "I hope that hard on is a result of me, Greg?"
Greg challenges, "and if it's not, Phil?"
That was the thing. Chad felt okay with his friend there, but left alone with his dad and his partner, Phil Sr. was fine, but he didn't care much for Greg. Making it a point, after conversing with Phil Sr., he launched himself up and out of the pool. Whereas he was naked, Chad took a towel and wraps it around his waist.
For whatever he was feeling, Chad wanted out, "well, thanks for everything, but I've got to get back and hit the books."
Taking the upper hand, Phil Sr. says, "I'll walk you out."
Walking out meant Chad had to find his clothes, which were neatly put in a cubby in the small cabana.
While in transit, Phil Sr. says, "Greg, he can come on a little strong."
"Thanks for mentioning it. Exactly what I was feeling."
A twentysomething guy with a forty-ish, the age difference was overwhelming, but Phil Sr. never acted that way. In fact, Chad thought he was very sweet.
"I feel I should apologize, or," Phil treads lightly, "make it up to you in some way?"
It was no secret, Chad's shaft slowly expanding in width and length, without even touching it. He didn't even answer the older man, him coming over and kissing, placing a hand on him.
"Am I being overly aggressive?"
"Not at all," Chad says.
They kissed, until Phil Sr's knees start to buckle.
"No, allow me," Chad replies, falling to his knees, tongue out, ready to lick.
"Ooooh," Phil Sr. reacted with the sound of shivers tripping up and down his spine, "that's so nice, Chad."
Wouldn't you know it, Greg out at the pool, flipping through his cell, could not find, out of about 50 regulars, a man to come over right now?
"Hey, can I get in on some of that action?"
Without waiting for the go ahead, Greg comes up behind Phil Sr., dragging his angled cock down the back, leaving a trail of cock-spit, "oh come on hon, you never turned down an extra set of lips before?"
Chad didn't know where this came from, pushing up until he was in a squat, and having popped off Phil Sr's 8-incher, "he said 'no'. What don't you understand, Greg?"
From both sides, Chad on the cock-side, Greg facing Phil Sr's ass crack, the two face each other.
"Oh come on, Chad. Don't be such a prude!"
"I'm not," Chad stands, Greg having ruined the moment.
For a man, there on his knees, a hot, hairy ass to his right and on the left, Chad's meat dangling between his legs, Greg had to have at least one of those tempting treats. He decides to latch onto Chad's shaft and using it as a handle, uprights himself.
In a lewd manner Greg says, "um-m, love a nice piece of frat meat!"
Rather than take the responsibility on himself, Phil Sr. turns around, places a hand on the top of Greg's shoulders and lifts a knee into his six pack, uttering, "like Chad said, what don't you understand, Greg?"
Chad was bug-eyed, "I can't believe you did that."
Greg was on his knees for a different reason, bent over, holding his gut.
"Why not?" Phil Sr. acts like it was nothing.
"Um, because I'm a non-violent type?"
"Violent, how so? Greg here, he thrives on stuff like this."
He couldn't believe it, him and Phil Sr. standing there, looking down at Greg on his knees, slowly reviving himself from the knee to his gut, "I find that hard to believe."
"C'mon Greg," Phil Sr. reaches out for the scalp of his live-in mate's hair, "up you go."
Little did Chad know, this was all a put on. A mock up. The way Phil Sr. and his mate liked to play. What might have started as an intimate moment, with Greg showing up, it became too overwhelming a feeling for Phil Sr. to let fly by.
With raised eyebrows, Chad again acts astonished at how Phil Sr. is treating Greg, lifting him to his feet by the hairy hairdo. It irked him, how two people can have a loving relationship, live under the same umbrella and at the same time put each other through something like this.
If that was not enough, Phil Sr. allows Greg's head to bob free and works his way around the back. Taking Greg's arms, gathering them to the back, hands working into binding his mate's wrists behind was a big turn on for both.
Only, Chad didn't know this, "are you guys for real?"
"For real?" Phil Sr. laughs it off. If Chad knew, Phil Sr's hard shaft, poking into Greg's ass crack, "feels real to me!"
Then, if things weren't weird enough, Greg starts begging, "oh come on, Chad. I thought we were friends?"
Not which he cared for Greg that much, when he glances at Phil Sr., he gives him a nod with a smile attached.
Sketchy on all of this, Chad plays along, "sort of, I guess?"
Seeing Chad not getting it, probably his first time at s&m roleplay, Phil Sr. provokes, "you guess? If it were me in your place, I'd be plenty mad of someone coming in and tearing a thick, juicy piece of meat out of my mouth. I'd be plenty angry. I'd be in a mood where I'd be more prone to get even, than get mad!"
Greg too had it in mind Chad not perceiving the situation, provoking, "no, please Chad. I know we got off on the wrong foot, but have compassion. Don't punch me in the stomach?"
"Well. I. Uh."
Phil Sr. grabbing Greg up in his arms in a more pronounced manner, stretching those big, shaved poundcakes to the limit, flexing the sixpack, making it vulnerable, Chad notices not just the muscled physique, but also Greg must be actually getting something out of all of this, his cock extending out, obviously fully engourged, rather than half-filled and sloping.
Sometimes, when Greg and Phil Sr. played like this, it was guy like Chad, who had no inkling of what was going on and needed play by play instruction.
"Muscleheads like Greg thrive on stuff like this. C'mon, ball up those fists, Chad and work his abs until they turn to mush."
Greg wasn't at the top of the awards roster for acting, which Chad could see right off. Also, was that thin, sinewy strand of goo excreting from the captive's shaft.
With Phil Sr. more convincing, Chad does make a fist, one, his left-handed, holding it up, "like this?"
He bought time, because he didn't really want to punch Greg in the stomach.
"That's a start."
Phil Sr. couldn't wait for Chad to get on with it. Already more than half of his 8c was lodged up Greg's ass. Gut punching Greg was the remedy to drive himself in deeper. In between punches, once the routine gets started, Greg slips down his shaft, another punch driving his ass back on.
Making it sound like he was losing his patience, Phil Sr. says, "would you just get on with it?"
He was about to, when Greg, in the best pathetic manner he can muster up, renders, "no. Please sir, have some pity on my poor abs?"
Truthfully, they didn't, Greg's abs, look anything but spectacular, like he must spend a lot of time at gym working off reps.
Whereas they were play-acting, Chad was being himself, "they don't look poor, I mean they look..."
"For God's sake," Phil Sr., or rather his cock gets tired the back and forth, turns Greg around and without warning punches him in the abs.
Because they are a couple and not total strangers, Chad stands there and watches. Two fingers to his lips would tell someone he was appalled at watching Phil Sr., punching Greg with the right, then left hook, right, left and right again, until on his knees, clutching Phil's torso like they were handles.
"Yeah, right where I want you, boy."
According to Chad, Greg would not be considered a 'boy'. Though, as a boy, Chad could relate, being his mother was a single parent, with an abusive boyfriend. Then it occurred to him, thinking on this, Greg was not being an adult, but playing the part of a boy just like him, maybe, taking abuse and not having any control over the situation.
He surprised himself, interrupting the two role players, "uh, before you get into anything else, can I have a try at this?"
"Sure," Phil Sr. says. "Which one of us do you want to workover?"
"But I thought you," he starts to address Phil Sr.
Greg steps in, "do me. It'll be like a favor, working my abs over, so next time I'm at the gym I have something to work on."
"Nah, babe," Phil Sr. steps in, "you had your chance. My turn."
Anything Chad hated, after seeing his mom and her boyfriend squabbling, "hey guys, can we call a truce here?"
It calmed the couple, Phil Sr. being the one to apologize, "oh course. And at the same time, Greg wants to say he's sorry."
"Me?"
Chad couldn't believe it, two grown men, thirty and forty, or somewhere in between, carrying on like two sportmen vying for the same position.
"How about I do both of you?"
Their arguing ended abruptly, both turning to face Chad, seeing a toothy grin on his face.
"Really?" Greg says.
Looking down at their torsos, Chad says, "with all this arguing, look what you've both gone and done?"
Not of their own cocks having deflates, Phil Sr. looks deeply troubled, "oh, I'm so sorry," he takes Chad's softness in hand, "we'll make it up to you, won't we Greg?"
"Um, does that mean I'll still get my gut punched?"
It was a fun 'game', a college swimmer watching two grown men playing their game, then arguing and making up. What stole his show, was the option to play with both at once!
"Sure, I'll do that, if it'll turn you on?"
Phil Sr. interjects, "it certainly will get us both hard again, hee-hee!"
"Hey, how about this, Chad," Greg turns his back to Phil Sr., weaving his arms in around his partner.
"Back to back," Phil Sr. replies, "I love it!"
Then, like the upset in their love life has regained momentum, they each turn heads, best they can, and smooch.
Having an evil thought come to mind, Chad balls a fist and before Greg's head can turn back, plows his abs with a hefty gutpunch.
"Ugh-gh-gh-oh-my-god!"
Seems like Phil Sr. was feeling it just as much, Greg bending over when Chad's fist is sunk into his gut, slightly bending over backwards.
"Was that good?" Chad asks.
Panting, after not expecting to have a 'bat' thrown into his solar plexus, Greg, "more than good. That was awesome!"
He was okay with some light gut-punching, but not to the bashing stages, Phil Sr. caving in, "um, do you think you can work my cock a little first?"
"Woosy," comes from behind Phil Sr's back!
Having an idea, Chad says, "um, should I be responding to that?"
"A boy always needs to be shown his place," Phil Sr. smiles at Chad.
Coming around to Greg's side of the equation, Chad stands there.
Again, turning on his poor thespian skills, Greg pleads, "no, no more. That's enough. My poor abs can't take any more."
"I hear ya," Chad says. "That's why I'm offering to take your place, Greg."
Greg has shown what he likes, another guy not afraid to test the strength of a man's sixpack. Phil Sr., he was kind of wishy-washy when it came to this s&m stuff.
"Really, then," Phil Sr. uncouples him and his partner's arms. "Then I suppose you won't mind me holding you?"
That was tricky, Chad looking down at Phil Sr's stiff cock, a hand stroking it up.
"Well, I have to admit I've never had sex like this before."
Greg gets his jab in, "about how many times have you had sex, Chad?"
Phil Sr. cuts him off, "that's so rude, Greg."
"Sorry," Greg says, adding, "just the horny side of me wanting to know."
"I know that part very well."
With his own horny side kicking in, Chad says, "look, it doesn't matter, this or that. I just want to experience how it feels, of what you guys like doing...before I shoot my load?"
"Oh man," Greg gloats, "I'd sure like to see how it feels to have that up my ass!"
Phil Sr. and Greg seemed to steal the scene, moving about, setting the scene, Greg standing there and Phil Sr., acting like the director, has Chad standing behind his partner.
"Ready?" Phil Sr. readies his right fist for the first blow to Greg's gut.
Chad couldn't say it wasn't a turn on, holding Greg's arms, his shaft touching Greg's hairy ass and as Greg dares whisper, turning his head, "feel free to punch my ass any time you want. I'd love to feel you deep inside me!"
Using it as vehicle, jealousy, Phil Sr. hauls off and caves Greg's abs in, "what was that, loverboy?"
"Oh shit!" Chad exclaims.
Not being able to keep his footing as Greg bounces back up, readying for the next blow to his gut, it causes Chad to step lively, backwards and once the motion got started it didn't stop until he nearly tears the khaki fabric from the frame, taking it, Greg and himself backwards, right into the pool!
Afraid either of the two might get caught up in the fabric, underneath it and drown, Phil Sr. dives in. Too bad anyone missed seeing, because it was perfectly executed.
In the water, tearing through the wet fabric, Phil Sr. grabs and arm. Then another one. As a professional lifeguard would do, he wraps an arm around each waist, bringing both to the surface. All of them swim to the side of the pool and latch on.
Catching his breath, Greg says, "that was one hot gut punch!"
"I'll say," Chad lifts his hair from his face, brushing it backwards.
Finding everyone safe, Phil Sr. returns to his joking way of putting things, hikes his bod up out of the water, saying, "maybe when you two get dried off, you can thank me properly for saving your lives!"
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% Copyright 2020 T. Chase McPhee
Developing segments of`See The Good In All Things', may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.