Sup with You Dude?

By Jonathan Longhorn

Published on Jul 18, 2021

Gay

'sup with you, dude? - Chapter 5

’sup with you, dude?

© 2016

by

Jonathan Longhorn

Copyright © 2016 by Jonathan Longhorn (jonathan_longhorn at yahoo dot com). All rights reserved. Except for the use of less than two pages in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means is forbidden without the express written permission of the author. Express permission is granted to The Nifty Erotic Stories Archive for storage, indexing, retrieval, and display of this work.

Disclaimer: The material in this work is for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content and language. It is intended only for those aged 18 and older. All of the characters in this work are assumed to be at least 18 years of age.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and settings are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, names, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. In the real world having sex without using a condom can be very dangerous to your health. Don’t ruin your life or your future. Slip it on before you slip it in.

Note: There are some references in this story and others, to things mentioned in another of my stories, Target Nemesis: The Tentacle Lord’s Revenge, which you can find here: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/target-nemesis-the-tentacle-lords-revenge.html. The story itself is about the movie being watched by characters in several of my stories in which an alien warlord bent on revenge, ‘has his way’ with an Earth Forces Brigade hero. While I hope that you would enjoy reading that story, it may be a bit brutal for some readers and you do not need to read that story first in order to understand or to enjoy this story.

All trademarks used in this work are the sole property of their owners and have been used without permission or endorsement.

Chapter 5

Stepping out of the huge, multi-nozzle shower chamber, Reggie reached for one of the oversize fluffy towels he enjoyed and took his time to dry himself. His thick dick was still half-hard with expectation; he’d been thinking about the blow job he was going to get ever since they talked about it back at the restaurant. If this ‘thing’ all fell into place without a hitch, this was going to be a mind blowing night. He didn’t want to scare off Cayce before they even got to the main event by walking into it with his battering ram standing tall, thick, proud, and ready to ‘ram’.

On the other hand, he thought with a wicked-ass grin, if Cayce wanted his dick, ‘tall, thick, proud and ready to ram’ was just the ticket.

He stood in front of the double vessel sinks and the mirrors that lined one wall of the luxurious bathroom. He reached for a switch and almost instantly the fog covered mirror cleared. He checked out the image reflected back at him.

Damn! He was one hot son of a bitch, even if he did say so himself. A solidly built, granite chiseled body from years of farm work, followed by all the athletics they did in school—both high school and college—and then all the gym time and weight training he did to stay in tip top shape as a firefighter.

Man he loved his job. How the heck Cayce could work as a Sheriff’s Deputy and dodge bullets and knives was beyond him. He’d much rather run into a burning building than face a loaded gun or have some crack’d up punk pull a knife on him.

Yeah, Cayce was crazy for doing what he did.

Of course, Cayce said Reggie was nuts to run ‘into’ a burning building while ‘sane’ people would be running out of one.

Reggie decided to go with just a dab of the cologne he knew Cayce liked—and forgo putting any crap on his pits so Cayce would get mostly the ‘natural’ Reggie scent. He made one last check over himself—a crimp here, a tousle there … teeth sparkling … face nice and smooth. Manscaping job … perfect; he grinned—no short curlies for Cayce to deal with during his blow job….

Blow job. Cayce. Blow job. Cayce on his knees looking up at him as his dick spread his lips wide and sank inside. Yeah, this was gonna be wicked good.

A deep breath softly escaped through clenched teeth. Nod. Nod. He was ready. He knotted the oversized bath towel at his waist and left the bathroom humming quietly to himself. He ambled through the master suite, making a quick survey of his surroundings while trying to decide what he should wear for the occasion.

What does one wear on a date like ‘this’ anyway? Boxers? Boxer briefs? Briefs? Jock? Did one just go commando if one knows in advance someone is going to be slurping on the cockzillacicle? Hmm….

He chuckled softly at that thought. Cockzilla. Okay, yeah—it was a monster from what he had seen throughout school from the first showers the guys took together in 6th grade forward; there were few bigger, thicker, or bigger balled. There were, of course, a few that shamed even his equipment—Mike Stoneleigh, for one. The guy had a granite anaconda hanging low and fat between his legs.

Cayce? Oh, yeah. Cayce destroyed any record that he hoped he had a shot at when it came to the ‘zilla books. Cayce was hung like a friggin’ moose. He rolled his eyes as he thought of his brother Beau. Holy … fuck. Beau was packing a Titan missile down there.

What to wear. What to wear. What to wear.

He wondered if ‘GQ’ had an online advice column for something like this. If so, maybe it would have recommendations for the appropriate attire to slip into during the moments before getting your first blow job from the best friend of your life.

If I don’t go commando, then should it be clean and fresh ‘whatevers’? Or, would a well-worn, heavily ‘Reggie scented’ pair drive Cayce wild?

A grin spread across his handsome face at that thought. Yeah—some guys were totally into that. Jock sniffing. Crotch sniffing. Pits…. One or two of those BDU boys had even asked for his. Gazing up at him after they’d swallowed his big load. A look of pure elation and satisfaction on their face and a blush rising as they asked if they could have his jock or boxer briefs with the explanation of ‘well, you know—for a souvenir’. Yeah, he understood. He totally understood. Well, if this all went as hoped for tonight, and if there were repeat performances in the future, there would be time to supply Cayce with Reggiedisiacs to drive him into lust puppy mode if he was into that sort of thing.

“Cayce Gone Wild – the Erotic Reality Cable Network’s excusive footage….”

He decided to delay that decision for a bit as he looked around the bedroom. Neat. Organized. Clean. Disheveled just enough to exhibit the refined brawn that befit a smokin’ hot single stud puppy firefighter in his early twenties for the gals that he occasionally dated. He might be sleeping with Cayce tonight, though—so it had to be ‘Cayce appropriate’. Still undecided about what to wear, he left the master suite and headed for the hall to see if Cayce had finished with his shower and to see what he was wearing, or—not wearing. Maybe he wasn’t wearing anything. Maybe he had just gone with one of the oversized towels at his disposal in the guest suite’s bathroom?

Cayce had spent enough time here over the last year, since the completion of the renovation and the new construction inside and out, that he had used the guest suite closet and dresser for storing some of his own clothes to change into as needed—after a game or dinner, a boys’ night out, a movie … sometimes, it was just easier to stay over rather than driving back home. He even kept a spare uniform here, just in case.

For some reason, that made Reggie proud. He almost shed a tear when Cayce had asked if that would be okay. It was like Cayce was telling him through that question how comfortable he felt here. He always felt his home was Cayce’s home anyway. Yeah, that was the way it should be. He wanted Cayce to feel this was his home as much as it was Reggie’s. Hell—he had an open invite to just move in any time.

Reggie had inherited this beautiful old house and remodeled it himself … well, ‘himself’ combined with the expertise and manpower behind Stoneleigh Construction and Landscape, anyway. Mike Stoneleigh had done a magnificent job of interpreting Reggie’s twenty-plus pages of ‘I want’ and ‘I gotta have’ and ‘You can do that right?’.

Inside and out, Mike and his crew had given Reggie just what he wanted, and—more. This had gone from an elegant, finely maintained 100-year-old family home to a showplace, a gathering place for friends and family … for parties that were totally off the hook, but yet—a warm, cozy, richly masculine home.

There was even a place of his own for his now eighteen-year-old brother who was athletic as hell, handsome as fuck, and the brooder of Reggie’s younger siblings. Beau had always been the introspective one, the kind of shy one, but the wildly protective armored knight for his younger brothers. But, there were days that he just needed to take some time for himself … or, to be with ‘his’ big brother—‘his’ protector—Reggie. And, Reggie knew that. He knew it, he accepted it, he stroked it without coddling it.

He offered Beau the space, the time, the pool, anything and everything without question. Including himself. If Beau needed full-on big brother mode? He got it. If he needed big brother but not to the max? He got it. If he needed big brother scent—how many times had he come in from shift and found Beau stretched out in one of the theater seats watching television … wearing one of his tees that had been snatched from the laundry hamper—or, the feel … the presence of his big brother but not necessarily ‘in his face’? Whatever he needed, he got it.

And, through it all—there was this silent agreement, this acknowledgement—the two of them respected each other’s need for ‘oneness’ and they walked around each other or shared a space in companionable silence that was soothing, empowering … comforting. Or, they would hit the pool but never say a word for hours at a time. They even did some skinny dipping and some steam time in the spa. Beau was way too shy to ever suggest it, but Reggie knew he enjoyed scoping out ‘all’ of his big brother and he was totally fine with that.

Yeah, all of that was in the pages and pages of ‘the list.’ And, that was what Mike delivered. It was like he ‘knew’ from his own personal life that special need for Reggie’s brother to be included in the design. That was why he got his own suite, too. Mike had done all that specialization to Beau’s taste over and above anything that Reggie had listed on ‘the list’. He had even taken Beau with him to look at flooring, paneling, molding, doors for the closet and worked closely with the younger Cooke to finish out ‘his’ bathroom ‘his’ way.

Of course, Beau was Mike’s younger brother’s best friend, so that probably had something to do with the extra touches here and there, too. Like Cayce, Mike loved Beau hard and admired his athletic achievements, his fierce loyalty to friends … his little brothers. And Beau gave it right back. He worshiped Cayce and Mike as much as he did his big brother, although—he never openly admitted that fact. It was cute and kind of innocently adorable. Even at the age of eighteen, now, Beau still called Cayce and Mike, ‘Uncle Cayce’ and ‘Uncle Mike’. Appropriate in so many ways, as his two closest friends loved Beau as if he were their own little brother.

Yeah, Mike and his construction team had taken his pages and pages of ‘wants’ and combined them with ‘reality’ and had worked Cayce and Beau’s own tastes into the mix and come up with a recipe of ruggedly masculine elegance throughout the entire remodel and the outdoor areas. And, yet with all of the remodeling, the upgrading, the modernization, Mike had somehow completely retained the original design of the house. Respect for those who had gone before Reggie. Those who had lovingly maintained the home. Respect for the bones of the home and the heart of the home … the soul of the home.

Simple really.

A masterpiece.

Reggie made his way down the hall, pausing briefly at the almost closed door of the main guest room—he had referred to it more than once as the ‘Cayce Suite’ or, as he joked sometimes, Casa de Cayce—which mirrored his own suite in opulent comfort. He popped his head into the bedroom and looked around. Heads popped up and swung in his direction. A couple of the dogs were keeping watch over Cayce—and probably licking their chops—while he was cleaning up. Caesar, 130 pounds of solid Rottweiler muscle, poked his head out from the bathroom to look at him and offered a loving, lazy tail wag.

Message woofed and wagged—Yeah we’re here. We’re keeping him safe. You may carry on with your own duties, Boss.

God he loved those dogs. All 5 of them. Even when they all tried to pile into his king size bed at the end of the day, both on and around him.

The dogs loved Cayce and always made a big fuss over him when he was there. Cayce loved Reggie’s dogs, right back—and always gave them each some attention. He always brought each of them a special little something. Reggie couldn’t remember a time since he had got the dogs that Cayce hadn’t brought a treat for them. If not for the fact that he watched them devour the huge rawhide bones when they were the ‘treat’ of the day, Reggie was sure that one day an archeological team would claim to have discovered a mass dinosaur gravesite on the property.

It was fun to watch Cayce wrasslin’ with the Rotties and sometimes even the 175 pound Bullmastiff. Gengi—short for Genghis Khanis—the ‘prince’ of the dog pack was probably out doing a late night patrol of the grounds after he’d greeted them during their arrival a short while ago. Funny how he always went straight for Cayce’s crotch for a good snort or two whenever he came over. They both finally just gave up trying to break him of that habit. Cayce never failed to blush every time and mumble something about a ‘gay dog’. Little did he know where the dogs would really like to go. But, they knew better.

Reggie could hear the shower still running. He chuckled softly. He was certain that Cayce was in that shower, water pelting down over his perfectly chiseled body, and he was probably shaking like a leaf, trying to get up the nerve to come out and join him. Poor Cayce. If this was what he wanted—‘needed’—Reggie was going to give it to him. In spades. Maybe a few clubs, diamonds, and hearts for good measure. Definitely, the big thick club he was packin’.

The chuckle dissolved into a frown of concern. How long had Cayce been grappling with this? How long had he been having day sweats and night terrors about it? Why hadn’t Reggie picked up on it and come to the rescue sooner? He guessed his internal ‘Lancelot’ system needed a tune-up.

More than once, Reggie had wondered about Mike, and, closer to home—Beau. They both grappled with demons from time to time. Were they the same demons? He was unsure. Would he stand up and fight for them like he was doing now for Cayce? Yeah, probably. No. Not probably. If he had two best friends, Mike was the other one. And, Beau? Well, Beau was his little brother and he would die for him. Yeah, no ‘probably’ there at all.

Reggie moved on from that slightly open door—and ‘naked Cayce’ thoughts—and swung by the front entrance to flip the locks, and make sure the porch lights were on, and driveway lights off. It was too late for friends, or Beau—or especially Robbie—to just pop in unannounced. It was cool how Mike had installed a ‘zonal’ security system. He could activate security on the front of the house but leave the doors leading out into the pool area deactivated so that he and guests, whomever, could come and go between the kitchen, bathroom, game room and the pool and outdoor kitchen area. Of course, he had given Beau one of the remotes to keep in his truck so that he could make sure he didn’t wake the dead by barging through the front door and setting off alarms that could be heard miles away. Yeah, his place was here for his brothers, too. Anytime. They were always welcome but they both knew to call or text first. Just in case.

He nodded in satisfaction.

The castle was secure for the night. Still, they didn’t need anyone making a surprise visit and get the shock of their life. Although he let the oldest brother who was 18, come and go as he pleased—as long as he never came home to a mess, and more importantly, their parents knew where he was—he’d be home in bed at this time of night. Beau knew the few rules inside and out: if you eat or drink the last of something, fire up the tablet that was usually on the kitchen counter and put it on the shopping list. If you need something, or, see that the house needs something—put it on the list, too.

It didn’t take long to train Beau in this, but Robbie was another story. The kid was like a vacuum cleaner when he swept through the kitchen. Given how much he ate there, you’d totally swear his parents were starving him to death; it was a wonder Protective Services had never made a surprise drop-in. Their Mama was really an incredible cook too, and he knew Robbie never left a plate empty—his or anyone else’s—when Reggie came over for dinner.

Leftovers?

Sheah, right.

Reggie hardly ever got to bring food home. Or if he did, it was gone as soon as Robbie came over.

At least the few other ‘house rules’ were followed. If you bring a guest, even your best friend, tell Reggie. If Reggie is on duty—text. No feeding the dogs table scraps. No matter how pitifully they looked at you with those big, brown, sad eyes, as they rested a head on your lap. It was okay to bring someone over. Especially Mike’s brother. But, always remember to let Reggie know.

Mostly? They were really good, very respectful, responsible boys and he was really, really proud of all of them. Little ones included.

He passed through the stainless everything kitchen with its black granite counters softly kissed by the light from amber glass shades of a dozen pin lights. He moved toward the floor-to-ceiling windows on the outer wall of the living area and dining area. Windows that could be moved into the walls on either side for entertaining at the touch of a button. He swung open the double set of French doors and stepped out into the muggy night air. He breathed deeply and then rolled his eyes.

It was pushing midnight and it had to still be in the 90’s and the humidity had to be close to that. Even with a breeze making its way this far inland from the Gulf of Mexico, it was more like a blast furnace right now. Nothing unusual for this time of year … at least, not here in this part of Texas.

He grabbed a weatherproof remote off the outdoor kitchen island and keyed in several commands—immediately tranquil, twinkling and steady-stream lights started illuminating the area from there at the center of the kitchen area—complete with a standard grill, 2 chillers, open flame grille, and smoker pit—to the seating area, and beyond. The cascade of lights then spread outward along stone walks with lushly landscaped gardens and spillways and on up to, and actually into, the waters of a lagoon that fronted the Olympic-size pool, with waterfalls and fountains. Mike’s electrical subcontractor had outdone himself. The lights could be turned on all at once, or—sequentially. It looked as though the light was flowing from the island area outward, until it cascaded into the lagoon. The effect was seriously cool and never failed to impress. Especially when he brought over a new date.

There was even a shallow dog pool in the shape of a dog bone, for the woofers to soak in and cool off on blistering hot South Texas days. He noted that the 2 that weren’t in the house hovering around Cayce were in their pool now; they’d be sleeping outside tonight. Sometimes the dogs looked like a cluster of alligators, with just their heads above water.

A soft glow even appeared from behind the main waterfall—the ultimate play toy that was on the list that Mike had brought to life in this spectacular masterpiece. Behind that waterfall was a man cave to beat all man caves—the pool flowed right up inside the cave and opened to a sauna on one side, a whirlpool that could seat 16 on the other and directly ahead, seating and another theater area with waterproof equipment and several underwater lounges to cozy into … for 1, 2, or—more … depending how ‘cozy’ one wanted to get.

A privacy fence enclosed the entire outdoor entertainment area—especially the pools and waterfalls—backed up by a thick tropical planting that could easily be described as a mini-Amazon rain forest. All so that no one could really see in, but it was mostly to keep the dogs safe and from wandering too far off trying to chase jack rabbits and other wildlife that they deemed to be trespassers in their territory.

His nearest neighbors were several miles away but the fencing also made sure that no one showing up at the house could walk around to the back and see anything potentially embarrassing. It was ideal for skinny-dipping any time of the day or night and even impromptu sex with a hot gal or—his best buddy if it came up here … tonight.

Okay, yeah. He went way over the top and some of his friends gave him shit for the excesses when they first saw the place. They might tease him now and then, but they always showed up and they always hated to leave.

But hey. He remodeled it to please himself. And somehow Mike Stoneleigh had managed to do it all within budget. Probably out of budget but because of their friendship he had taken the monetary cuts wherever he could, but still give Reggie everything he had asked for.

END of Chapter 5

Author’s Note: Please show your appreciation for this wonderful service and help Nifty continue to exist by sending a donation using the Nifty donations page at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html.

This is just the start of a story which may or may not be continued. If there is enough interest, there MAY be additional chapters. The interest shown in it will be a determining factor in continuing the story.

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Thank you to those of you who have taken the time out of your day to write me about my stories. The thoughts, comments, and feedback are VERY much appreciated.

My other stories on Nifty can be found using the Nifty Prolific Authors page: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#jonathanlonghorn

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Next: Chapter 9


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