The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
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SuPReME CouRTsHiP 05 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Saul and Stu had been there before, but not in the company of each other.
For the next 40 minutes or so after entering the small gym, a modest set up for a quick circuit of fitness training, the two burly men did work out, comparing notes.
Getting on the same page, Stu had revealed this is the place he learned about himself, his likes, dislikes, often finding out things which didn't turn him on. Also, what could be a turn on when the guy working him, was turned on.
"You know what I'm getting at?" Stu presented to Saul.
Saul might not have caught every word, but got the gist of it, his attention divided between Stu's history of him and Tim and while spotting him on chest presses, looking down upon the buff bear, thinking all he need to do is have Stu's head down and over the pad, with ability to slide his cock right in!
Not immune to his own thoughts and wants, talking about himself, Stu looks up, the barrel staring right at him.
"Oh sure. I get it," the cop, out of uniform, replies.
Punning, Stu says, "I wish I' could get it'!"
Saul got it, loosening one hand from clutching the barbell. straightening up his sagging shaft, teasing, "You want it, do you?" he gives is a firm stroke.
With the barbell parked, Stu shimmies himself up the padded seat, allowing his head to drop off the cliff', opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, all ready and waiting for Saul's input'.
Instead of moving forward, Saul steps back, "Except a boy has to earn the privilege of taking his Master's cock!"
A grimacing look from Stu to Saul, he replies, "That was a dirty trick!"
"Yeah," Saul laughs, "I love humiliating a guy!" he laughs some more.
From disappointment, to cracking a smile, Stu replies, "I think then maybe we should get along okay."
"We'll see."
Edging Saul on, Stu says, "I'm up for some intense pain, if you've got some time on your hands?"
"Matter of fact," Saul says, "I happen to have a few days in which I was going to go fishing."
Stu replies, "Like the fish you caught?"
"Remains to be seen. That is if you can get your butt up off that bench and into chains?"
Both were ready, only it slipped their minds as to where the key to the dungeon had disappeared to. Stu was happy Saul remembered, standing there, watching the cop bend over to rifle through his pants pocket, eyeing up that hairy ass crevice!
Keying the lock, Saul renders, "I hope you're ready for a hot workover?"
Stu wasn't sure, but of one thing, "Whatever it takes to lock my lips around that hot rod of yours!"
"Oh really?" Saul wears an evil grin, walking into the windowless room, ahead of Stu.
"As long as..."
Stu never had a chance to add some precautionary words, Saul turning around, faster than a speeding bullet, bending over, pulling his elbow down and slamming Stu right between the legs with his fist!
"Ar-r-rh-h-h-h-h!" Stu was met with excruciating pain in the balls, doubling over, chest hitting the wooden floor, both hands holding his nuts and moaning out loudly. Not totally knocked up with pain, he whines, "Oh damn, Saul?"
Saul laughs, saying, "I thought you could take it better than that, Stu!"
By Stu's standards, his fantasy dream was coming true. How often had he affixed his imagination on coming face to face with a real' dominant bear, wanting to take matters into his hands and deal' with it. Yet, from past experiences, Stu had been disappointed by wannabe masters', only out for an ass to fuck and a little sadism-on-the-side', like one of the side dishes on the menu at his restaurant. Right then and there, his shoulders grinding into the floor, he was out to prove something to himself and knew he had to react with decisiveness and precision.
"Felt damn good," Stu got up to his knees. A ploy, he reaches out, "but would you mind giving a hand?"
Falling for his act', Saul reaches out. For his own benefit, he was thinking how maybe he finally got some hot bottom who could take it', not out for a trial session of wanting to take things on his own terms, not what could be dished out. Stu not holding his hairy nuts was a signal of this working itself into a true `no limits' session.
What neither had guessed, Stu and Saul each out to prove to themselves, how they could handle themselves, Saul replies, "Why sure. I'm always sympathetic to a man down on his knees!"
He had an agenda, what he's used on other bottom-dudes, self-proclaimed masochists, and putting on this false sense of `kindness', lifts Stu up by the hand, all ready to plant his left fist into Stu's bear-stomach, as Stu's right arm crosses between them.
In a surprise move, seeing the tell-tale signs, clenching of Saul's left fist, Stu takes his hand, but slips it out, forcing Saul to punch air. Running his bod right past Stu, Stu uses the opportunity to kick Saul right in the ass!
"What the fuck you do that for?" Saul turns quick, in anger.
This time it's Stu on the end of the laughing-stick, "To see what you're made of, Saul?!"
Picture a forest clearing, 2 bears ready to charge each other, hunger in their eyes.
"Come on," Saul's gut-punching hand opens and beckons Stu forward with waving fingertips, "you're not the only one!" he reveals his hidden motives.
As Stu had pictured it, in some reverie long ago, a forgotten fantasy emerges in his mind. The props were all there, a man almost his own age, though he hadn't a clue Saul is 36yo, comparing to his own age of 37. Not as important though, was the man himself, shaved head, full beard, trimmed, hairy pecs, stomach, almost the build and layout of hair pattern as himself, moderately muscled, and when the need arises, the embedded treasure trail leading to a hefty endowment.
Unknown to Saul, he looked upon Stu with very much the same attitude, as what constituted the perfect man for himself. Only one thing was lacking, compatibility'. For himself, Stu was rugged enough to take a fist to the balls and he didn't know what struck him at the time, but didn't hold back in delivering. Sure, he thought he was a little harsh when Stu asked for help, but for the fact, after receiving a harsh blow to the balls, not many could take that ball-bashing abuse and even get to the knees. Pouring it on, the left hook to the gut, was even more of a test. Faked out and now facing a bear-on-the-attack', made him drool with lust.
His nose shriveling up, Stu growls, "Gr-r-r-rah-h-h-h!" charged at Saul.
Hmm,' was Saul's immediate reaction and rather than out to hurt' or punish', he looked at this as a little bear-wrastlin'-fun', just like at the Police Academy.
Stu, having prior knowledge, went `right in for the kill', hands targeting Saul's nips!
"Oh-oh-oh-oh-shit!" Saul calls out, the attachment on his sensitive pecs and whereas he had intended on subduing Stu, taking him to the mat onto his back, then performing a choke hold, instead his arms going to the sides of Stu's neck, braced like Stu was keeping him from falling on the floor.
Mashing them mightily, Stu says of the nip-tweaking, "Some dominant `top-man' you turned out to be!"
It was his weakness and Stu was playing it for all it was worth, Saul complaining, "Oh man... don't do this to me," but not moving an inch to stop Stu's fingers and thumbs from `torturing' him!
Others things were happening, unplanned movements of their bods, which helped working their minds into a frenzy, beards moving in motion with a scratchy effect, something akin to how two bears liked as foreplay to something greater.
It was all good, regardless of who was top, who was bottom, who controlled whom, and even though Stu was `quite' hard, dropping a hand, found Saul in the same predicament. Yet, with a strong desire building, Stu drops off Saul's left pec, his hand softly drawn along the outline of the barrel of the cop's shaft, bulging inside it's leather prison, "Permission to take care of this, Sir?"
In La-La-Land, pec'n'cock massage driving him mad, all of Saul's moaning and groaning leads to a growl, "Ger-r-r-r!" a hand to Stu's shoulder, giving his bear-boy a `sense of direction!'
However, with the heat of the makeshift dungeon rising, emanating from the two hot bears, Stu doesn't bother asking permission, taking the seam of the codpiece and tearing it right off, Saul's cock springing right out, the bulging balls begging for release.
The dungeon sports a not so unusual picture, Saul in his dungeon uniform, hands on Stu's shoulders, which have forced him to his knees.
Stu, without the intention of doing so has commanded the whole scene to unfold under his own desires to please. On both knees, his mouth is working one of Saul's balls out of captivity. With his right hand extended up Saul's hairy bod, he tweaks Saul's left pec mercilessly, while his other hand makes sure Saul's shaft maintains a rigid pose. Every half minute or so Stu stops tantalizing Saul's ballsacs, coaxing both big balls out into the open air, to suck on the leaky cockhead.
His intentions were to bring Stu into the dungeon environment and do more than some friendly damage' to Stu's balls, but right now Saul is taking everything for what it's worth, trying' to make the moment last. As things can go, "I'm getting close."
Back to crowd control, Stu's hands and mouth keeping Saul on edge, he backs off.
"Don't stop!" Saul looks down at the wry smile.
Looking up at Saul, Stu whimsically says, "You think I'm going to take all the pleasure out of a hot bdsm scene, having you spill your guts," meaning cum, "all over the floor?"
"Fuck you!" Saul replies, drawing his boot back. His intentions were to aim at Stu's jewels, but he hadn't realized he was standing too far back, the tip of his Doc Martens hitting Stu just above the bellyhole!
"Ug-g-g-g-gh!" Stu complains from the dull ache.
If Saul didn't move out of the way, surely he would have went down with Stu on top of him. However, he wasn't totally convinced, this being the first time he and Stu have had quality time together, he didn't do damage, asking, "You okay?" His hand was there, for real, to help.
His bod splayed out on the floor, side of his beard kissing the floor, a hand under him, feeling up his moderately sore gut, Stu sarcastically replies, "Just fuckin' fine!"
"Cool," Saul replies, scooping two leather cuffs off a rack, which he felt a little reluctant to do on account of the condition his fuck tool was in. Yet, drawing off Stu's own words, to the effect of once the cum is spent, there was a good chance the scene would be over, coupled with his own thoughts of how this `could have' morphed into a hot dungeon experience, he tosses the cuffs on the floor, almost in Stu's face, "get those cuffs on your wrists. And when you're all shackled up, get that lump of bear fur off the floor and over to the chains," driving his thoughts home, "while I pick out a flogger!"
`Now you're cookin'!' Stu thinks to himself, propping himself up on his elbows in order to fasten a cuff at a time around each wrist.
"So," Stu presents himself in front of the rack which holds a dozen or so whipping implements, "what's your pleasure?"
"My pleasure? Oh you'll figure it out as soon as I get this strap on your back!" Saul smiles, holding up an implement which could pass for a man's dress belt.
"I like your choice," Stu could almost taste the lick of the strap on his back.
"And," Saul lets out the length, which the end of the strap drops to about his balls, "start teaching you some manners, `boy'?!"
"Should I start with Master' or Sir'?"
He was too cute for words, Saul wanting to express a different affection, but as was developing here, wasn't about `kissy-kissy' stuff, "Neither."
"Huh?" Stu was dumbfounded.
"Like `respect', which you have lacked thus far, addressing your superior in any kind of manner, is a privilege to be earned!"
Then Saul walked right past Stu, his arm brushing the bear's bod.
From this electric static alone, Stu was all wound up, let alone the unfolding situation of words and the manner in which Saul conducted himself.
Now, even more turning to a situation of not going back, "Get yer ass over here boy!"
Without reservation, the reason for keeping Stu's rock-hardness in the stiff state of being, he hustled his ass over to where Saul was measuring about where to lower two chains from the pulleys hanging from a beam, way up in the ceiling.
By the time Saul had the metal loop of each leather cuff attached to respective chains, one being pulled outward to the left, other to the right, stretching Stu's bear bod tautly north, east and west, it gave Saul quite a stir, his own reaction of how badly Stu wanted all this to come about, the sinewy strands of goo leaking out of Stu's 9.5c!
From the rear it was quite the sight, 2 visible globes in individual sacs, length of Stu's cock protruding beyond, rigid to the core. He had hopes of keeping it in that state, but summing up the position, arms up and out to the sides, something wasn't right, Saul thought on it, holding the leather strap in one hand, using the rough side of the whipping tool to keep his own erection `happy'. Rubbing a hand over his coarse beard, like always, it was a habit which went along with thinking.
Finally, he walks around Stu, patiently waiting in silence, says, "No, this just won't do!"
Stu, not yet broken in, asks, "What won't do?"
The strap, doubled in half, yet to be opened fully, slaps hard against Stu's stomach, "Ahk-k! Oh-shit!"
Totally ignoring Stu, unfolding the strap, feeding it around the back of Stu's head, Saul purposely disregards eye contact, though that hot bear-beard, he would love to make some lip contact, treats Stu's neck as if it were a clothes rack, draping the ends of the strap down the hairy chest. Then... walks off... Saul smiles, hearing an audible sigh of disappointment.
"You're not going to do me?"
Walking back, a leather cuff in each hand, Saul's balls are aching like hell to do' Stu, butt knows a greater reward will transpire. He does throw some thrill' into the scene, "Keep speaking without permission boy... it all adds up!"
It was meant as a test, one Stu fails, "Adds up? To what... um, am I supposed to ask permission, `Sir?'"
Saul didn't answer, crouching down to fasten the cuffs to each ankle.
All planned out years before, when Tim's father bought the Cape Cod home and surrounding property as a substitute for the on campus dorm, it's Tim who literally took the father's words, `do what you like with it', transforming the large garage into an apartment to the front, leaving the high, bare ceilings for another purpose.
Having been to a few dungeon parties, Saul knew exactly how to position Stu and even as he was hauling up the bear's arms, had a clue he would not properly be able to do some serious ball torture with Stu's thighs covering up his target. `Perfect' he thought, stretching the left leg out, coupling it up with a hook attached to chain, which in turn could be mobilized through a winch system to spread further towards its conjoined wooden beam. Matter of fact, when Saul had both cuffs hooked into place, he addressed each one, dragging Stu's feet towards each beamed column.
"Shit!" Stu gulped when each cuff pulled tautly against his wrists, but also tried catching himself since he knew he wasn't allowed to speak.
His thoughts stolen from him, Saul says, "Now," he takes one end of the strap, pulling it from Stu's neck.
"Oh shit!" Stu suddenly has a relapse, "You didn't leave a burn mark around my neck, did you?"
It did' occur to Saul, but in the heat of the scenario unfolding, totally ignores Stu's remark. Moving right on to his own agenda, "Here's the rundown, of which," Saul giggles, "there's no room for negotiation," he whips right into, "for touching your balls after I kicked the living daylights out of them," he adds dramatics, "10 lashes for each ball sac, 10 lashes across the barrel of your rather nice-sized' erection!" he smiles before briefly adding offense, along with `lesson to be learned', "because you evaded my kick to your balls by moving your stomach into place..."
"I fuckin' what?" Stu says in dispute.
Saul would catch up on this infraction later, speaking out, pronouncing judgement, "20 lashes on your stomach, and then for touching my nips without asking, 20 lashes to each of your nips..."
"I never heard of anything so stoopid! I was doing it for `your' pleasure, you know?"
Saul knew, but it didn't fit into the scheme of things, adding more increments of punishment, "and for speaking out without permission, 50 lashes across your back, which I rightly figure adds up to 200 lashes?" he waits.
Waiting pays off for Saul, but not Stu, "You're just waiting for me to say something, aren't you?"
Saul smiles, not because he was wanting to belt the living daylights out of Stu, but in speaking, "Another 50 lashes?"
"50? For what?"
"Another 50 lashes," Saul didn't bat an eye in tallying it up, "making it 300 lashes on the back?"
Deep down inside, Stu was loving it, but outwardly played Saul's game, "I'll take it, but that doesn't mean I'm liking what you're doing to me!"
"Another 50," Saul handles the leather strap.
"Fuck you!"
Smiling, all part of the act, Saul replies, "500 lashes it is then!"
Saul was good, very good at all this, having in his roughly 15 years of playing at the bdsm-game', has accumulated quite a volume of knowledge. Like right now, setting up Stu's cock and balls for a rough' whipping, which he would not use the stiff leather strap he would use later from whipping Stu's back, but a small quirt, as he set up Stu's balls, lacing each ball separated from the other, stretching each sac out in a different direction, the trick was keeping his `victim' on edge with much hands-on massaging. Same with Stu's 9.5c, working a noose under the flange, then stretching it, toying with the hefty shaft, making Stu sigh both in pleasure and pain, until he has it maxed out to about 11 inches, tied to a small table winch, the base capable of stretching more than a man's cock and balls at one time.
"I think that'll do!" Saul pings the lace tautly connected to Stu's cock, the other end winched up.
Bad enough, Stu in such sweet pain having his cock and balls touched over and over, but now stretched out, it was more than a dream come true, after seeing another guy under the same predicament at Tim's last dungeon party, hoping he could be up for some hot cock and ball torture as such this college dude was going through.
"Now for the punishment?"
However Stu was confused, Saul picking up the leather strap in stead of the small quirt? With 500 lashes behind him' yet to be served, he learned this' lesson and kept his mouth closed!
He tried watching as best he could, Saul moving past him, to the side of him, under an armpit and losing the ability to see what was happening behind his back, Saul saying, "Why don't we knock a 100 lashes off the tally for starters and warm up this back?"
Like Stu had a choice? Though, thoughts racing through his mind, the one most important, which had occurred to him years back when first diving into bdsm play, in particularly the sadism part of the acronym, one simple word, `trust' blanketed his mind. His bod tensed up after feeling the leather strap draped down his back, then taken away. Gearing up for the first lash he held his breath. All his pretense was a total relief, it barely causing anything but a dull ache. He exhaled his held in breath. However, Saul's second lash causes him to tense up, uttering, "Oh shit!"
Then it came, not more lashes, but a hand of comfort passing over the line across Stu's back and instead of harsh words, a calm, "You took that real good boy!"
"Uh, I guess I'm supposed to thank you for it, huh?"
From calm to cautious, Saul replies, "You're supposed to be keeping your mouth shut, boy... 550 lashes, minus the 2 lashes I just gave you... I'm gonna cut you a break."
Stu trying to refigure the tally didn't know what Saul meant. Though, in his mind he already figured whatever the outcome, Saul would be fair about it. After all, they weren't in some city, in some empty warehouse, but on Tim's property, in Tim's garage and that made all of a world of difference!
He wasn't counting, sure Saul was being fair, so after sagging a little on the ropes and hearing, "Your first 100, boy," Stu was relieved, but after the burning sensation of his back passes, suddenly is confronted with his stretching out cock and balls.
"Now for these," Saul plucks a finger over the 3 attached strings as if a banjo, getting a reaction, which he well knew would happen. "I think we'll put this off till after."
Stu didn't know the hell why, until Saul began dismantling the crafty little cock and ball apparatus. Almost as much as the cinching up of his balls, the unlacing pinched as well, "Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch," he called out in quick reaction.
Instead, like loosening up the bonds around Stu's hairy ballsacs and removing the lacing altogether, Saul only unhooked the lace from the small-sized winch, leaving the lace tied around the end of Stu's 9.5c.
Stu suddenly noticed, unlike Saul's dripping cock, his had no slick, shiny discharge. Working against him was the feeling, like wanting to come' and not being able to! He was aching to ask, but the rash' on his back, still stingy, made him keep his mouth shut.
"I think a reward is in store!"
At first Stu thought of a dog biscuit, but then realizes Saul is probably going to give him a drink of water. Half-right, Saul proceeds to lower his arms, bringing him so he bends in half.
"Open that fuckin' mouth, boy!" the order came.
Obliging, Stu opens, Saul's hard, slick shaft falling right on his tongue. What he had no clue for, in his position it made the perfect angle for not only sucking, but mouth-fucking, which surprised Stu when Saul's 9c kept on going straight in, right past his vocal cords!
When Saul pulled out, Stu gagged, coughing and breathed heavily simultaneously. Then, while in the throes of whether he was going to choke to death or his life ended by suffocation he completely blotted Saul out of his mind. It wasn't until a heave brought his arms catapulting towards the ceiling, his bent over position remedied by upheaval, he realizes Saul's cock hanging down in front, both hands flexing the strap.
Then, holding it, the leather implement with a `tab' sticking out, Saul threatens, "Now, for the infraction of touching your master," he places one hand against Stu's hairy right pec, hovers the strap above the left and brings it higher in the air.
Knowing there was nothing he could do about it, Stu clammed up, grabbing at the chains connecting the wrist cuffs, readying for the strap to take its toll on his targeted left pec. "Ak-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-kk-k-k-k-k-k-kk-k-kk-kk-shit!" he howled in pain, the strike deliberate and without mercy. As much as it hurt, which was like striking a lit match to his nip, the pain is doused, not to his thinking, Saul leaning in, his mouth cupped around it, tongue depressed against the nub.
Strange as well for Saul, because what was meant as a ploy to turn pain into pleasure, he was pleasuring himself, tasting the luscious hairy nip meat.
Stu dared say, "What about the strap?"
"Shuddup!" came from Saul's lips, licking away at both hair and nip flesh.
Worst torture yet, Stu had to endure Saul's tongue, his cupping lips and eagle-spread as he was, could not touch his cock, which acted as a go between, tantalizing mouth and the electricity shooting to Stu's loins.
Then, a real surprise, Saul announces, "I've had enough of this for now."
"You?" Stu questions as Saul manhandles the rachet keeping the chains bound to Stu's wrists. "You've had enough?"
"Yeah," he allows Stu's hands to fall right down to his sides.
"Oh shit!" Stu almost falls on his ass.
`Almost', Saul yelling out, "I gotcha!" hands grabbing Stu's armpits.
However, Stu kept on falling backwards, catapulting himself and Saul towards the wood flooring.
Then they just sat there, Saul asking, "You didn't twist an ankle, did you?"
"No," most on Stu's mind, "My fall... it didn't break `anything', did it?"
Saul could only wish, Stu plummeting backwards, his ass could have aligned just right, "No such luck!"
However Saul didn't mind at all leaning against the back wall of the garage, Stu in his arms and like hugging a bear, places his lips on Stu's shoulder, his lips sweetly kissing!
Turning his head, Stu complains, "Some harsh master you turned out to be!" In saying it, Stu wasn't complaining, but rather enjoying the attention.
Never receiving the complete workover he deserved, Saul broke him out of his chains and cuffs, saying, "Why don't I finish working you over `upstairs?'"
Speaking his mind, Stu replies, "I was really looking forward to the other 400 lashes?"
In retrospect, his needs, Saul selfishly says, "Maybe later. Right now I really need to get myself off."
"Um, you won't by chance be needing my help?"
Totally out of sync with the bdsm roleplay, Saul replies, "Of course! What do you think, I'm gonna fuck another guy's melon?"
It was like a loft, a person had to climb a ladder to get to the upstairs `apartment' above the garage. In doing so, Saul's head popping over the flooring, says, "What are you guys doing here?"
Tim, kneeling on the bed, feeding his cock to Flint, devouring it inch by inch, doesn't flinch a muscle, except the one which doesn't miss a beat, going down Flint's throat, "Fuck you Saul! Don't forget who owns this place!"
"Hand?" Stu calls out, his waving out from the rectangle compartment holding the ladder.
Taking Stu's hand, Saul replies, "Good thing there's twin beds!"
Though, helping Stu with the last rung of the ladder, he can't keep his mind off of Flint's stuffed cheeks.
Stu, purposefully breaks, or tries to break off Saul's concentration, "At least somebody's having their fill!"
Even though having a hardy time of his own, Tim reveals one a few things he has learned about his new mate, "Oh by the way, Flint loves group play!"
Saul couldn't keep a straight face. Here Flint was lying on the bed, Tim down his throat and his two hands going at it, fluttering away with encouragement for them both to join in.
Slowing finding out about each other, Stu knew Saul now as a hot, uninhibited topman when it came to dungeon play. Without the restraints and toys, he discovers more, Saul bending over and sucking up Flint's left nip, his hand tweaking up the other.
Feeling left out, which his balls drove him into not wanting to treat this as a spectator sport, acting on his own accord, what with Saul doing whatever came natural to him, Stu knelt on the bed. At his disposal were two hot' options. Either the bear could suck up Flint's leaking cock or dive into Tim's hairy ass. He's been there before, Tim's ass, knowing what a treat it can be, tongue weeding his way through the short-crop of fur. First time he did Tim's ass, it was like, how the fuck am I gonna fit my tongue in there?' and now, as he came closer, knew to curl his tongue in a way to.... then again, he got hit right in the chin by Flint's spear! "Hmm!" he makes comment, changing options, forsaking the clump of hair ass.
It didn't take long for jealousy to set in, Saul turning his nose up at Tim getting all the action, "Don't suppose your boy can take two?"
Tim drove the message home, "Bored with Stu already?"
Driving his mind into flashback mode, Saul woke up to the fact what he had going with Stu was really `cool', realizing a trip up the ladder, seeing two hot guys going at it, was reason to ditch Stu? In essence, he treated him as such, "Hey, sorry I was ignoring you?" He stood there at the side of the bed, tuning up his instrument.
He still had Flint's cock in his mouth, but stopped sucking, then with a pop, removed it, "I figured you would get back to me?"
"Hey, you know what?" Saul his finger around, "All this isn't really happening for me."
"Yeah, me neither," Stu replies, getting off the bed.
Oh course, it was happening for Flint, Tim noticing an audible, `something' when Stu got off the bed, instead of diving right back on Flint's tube.
"How about taking a trip back to my place?"
"Apartment?" Stu wild-guesses.
"Yeah. It's not much, but I call it home," Saul replies.
Not meant to boast, but to heat up things up, Stu says, "Or would you rather go to my place? Got hot tub?"
It made up his mind, but more, looking over Stu and putting all that pain and pleasure aside, "Hot tub? Lead the way!"
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Copyright 2012 T. Chase McPhee
`SuPReME CouRTsHiP', may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.
The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP