Tale of Two Men

By moc.loa@knpsnddM

Published on Jan 26, 2010

Gay

An original story, with all rights reserved. Questions and comments may be sent to mddnspnk@aol.com. You are invited to comment on what you liked. Since this is the first story, the author would appreciate encouraging comments and input. And it is a story, not a sound bite, so if you need it to flash, then it wouldn't be worth your time to read. But if you have a cup of coffee and a few minutes, have a read.

A Tale of Two Men -- Part 1 The Opening Scenes

Processing thoughts on the way home...good idea taking this old route. highway filled with traffic from that accident and this wet weather. but while longer this back route has no stopping or slowing. could have taken that connector road a few miles back to get back over to the highway, but there should be another one about 10 miles ahead.

Tim pressed down a little more on the gas. Filled with frustration over the day...and the delay on the trip back...he pushed ahead. His normal aggressiveness showed, fueled by having to curb it earlier. And as his thoughts flashed to his sexy wife waiting for him at home, back from her 3 day work trip, his manliness just pushed out of him. Both figuratively and literally as he casually rubbed over his hardening dick. Three days without always leaves him frustrated. And ready to go. "Gonna make her feel so good tonight," Tim said to himself. "Make her glad again she didn't go with that dick she had been seeing before meeting me." Tim chuckled, as always when he was horny and thoughts of her previous man popped in to his head. Yeah, he was a big dick. Both ways. She doesn't miss his size, because he was worthless. And uncaring. Whereas I use this power packed 5-1/2" the right way...to make her moan and lose it," Tim said with the confident attitude of a real man who satisfies his lover, rubbing himself again. "Who needs a big 7 incher when the boner is a user?"

Then he put his hand deliberately on the wheel again. Always disciplined, Tim allowed himself only the couple of rubs before stopping. "Mary is back home finally and is gonna get it tonight. Don't want to waste it." "Or make myself more frustrated, since it's still about 3 hours to home," Tim reminded himself. And then, the maleness in him coming out somewhere, accelerated a bit more, zooming on the single lane back road almost as fast as on the highway.

After a mile he had to slow down a great deal while rounding a sharp curve. Just as he started to accelerate again, his car hit a slick spot and spun out...sending him careening...finally spinning around...aiming for a driveway...put still spinning some...the car slipping down into the ditch. Shaken, feeling rather disoriented from the jarring, Tim was stunned and sat for a long time. Checking to see if anything was broken...but he didn't think so. But feeling some pressure because the car was angled forward with the front wheels down...making it difficult for Tim to move. Just as he rolled down the windows to see if he could get some leverage, Tim heard a deep voice say "Are you alright?"

With some relief that someone was there, a little groggily Tim replied, "Yes, I'm alright" as he tried to slide over and get out.

"No, don't try to get out. I'll go get a rope and get you out. Stay there," said the strong voice. The owner of the voice turned and went back up the driveway to the house. A true country house, it sat about 1/8 mile back from the road up just a bit of a rise.

Given his position, Tim couldn't see that. And being still a bit befuddled by the jarring change he just experienced, he wanted to get out of the car. "Where is he," said Tim to himself. After a while, which in reality was only about 15 seconds, Tim's impatience took over, "forget it. I'll just get myself out."

Assertive by nature, Tim didn't stay and wait, but proceeded to take care of himself. Scooting across the seat a little, he then moved a little faster to get momentum to climb out. Bracing his foot on the sideboard, Tim pushed off and out of the car. And went down in a heap. Because the car was just far enough off the ground that he misjudged his point of contact and lost his balance. Right in the drainage stream that was swollen from the rain. Face down, his jacket and pants go soaked. Followed immediately by his shirt, socks, and shoes. As he struggled to get up, he felt it even in his t-shirt and underwear, making him shiver. A bit disoriented from both the accident and the fall, Tim slipped and went down to his knee again.

Just then Darryl's voice boomed, "I told you to wait." Crossing the remaining distance to the floundering man, Darryl shook his head and thought to himself: a real independent type, doesn't wait or do what he's told, even when it's for his benefit. Small in body...but a man in attitude. A tough one if not handled well. Good to know. Darryl finished his thought as he got to the ditch that was now a stream.

"Looks like you're having a pretty tough time of it there, little man."

Still floundering around, Tim didn't register the comment at first. When he did, his scalp got prickly and he shot a quick, aggressive look at the man standing there. Only, he had to look up higher than he expected. Much higher. "Damn, how tall is he?!," thought Tim to himself as he looked for a long, stunned moment. Then, he shivered.

"Man, must be colder than I thought," Tim said to himself.

"Here, take my hand," Darryl said as he extended a big gloved paw down toward Tim. Seizing the hand, then pulling a little and then harder as he felt the stability, like he had grabbed on to an immovable oak tree, Tim then pulled himself out of the ditch. And stood right in front of a giant of a man. Slowly looking up, and up, Tim's finally found Darryl's face, pale cheeks a little red from the cold, and then his eyes. Gazing up for a long moment, Tim's mouth hung open, and then he shivered.

With the faintest of movement at one corner of his mouth, Darryl looked down at the short man, figuring he must only be 5'6". Maybe 5'7". A full foot shorter. Noticing Tim shiver, Darryl said "You need to get out of those wet clothes and get warmed up." Immediately turning, Darryl started to walk to the house.

"Um....I'm....it's ok," stuttered Tim.

Darryl stopped, turned around, and took the step back to stand right in front of the small man who went to back up, but felt the ditch behind him and had to stay put. "You're cold. You're wet. You don't even have a winter coat on. And your car isn't going anywhere for the moment. Plus, it's snowing now. The storm's here," Darryl stated patiently. "Now.....no arguments. Come inside now," he finished, adding enough force and decisiveness to his voice to communicate the seriousness of the situation.

"Uh....ok," Tim chattered as he realized how cold and wet he was and finally accepted it. Darryl turned and started walking. A little stunned by the accident, the fall into the ditch, and in truth the size of his rescuer, Tim could do nothing but fall in behind him.

Up the five steps onto the porch, Darryl quickly opened the door and stepped into the house, holding the door open at the top. In spite of his desire to get warm, Tim hesitated, not liking to have to walk under Darryl's arm. It was almost a visceral reaction, never liking to be close to men who were taller. Not even those a few inches taller. And this man was much, much taller. But then Darryl motioned impatiently with his free hand, and Tim knew he couldn't stay outside. Walking under Darryl's outstretched arm, feeling rather small, Tim entered the house.

Stepping onto the big braided oval rug, Tim took a deep breath as he felt the warmth immediately. "Take your shoes and socks off right here," Darryl said as he closed the door. "Your suit jacket too."

As Tim removed his jacket, Darryl took it and hung it on a hanger to hold shape as it dried, pulling out the cell phone, commenting that it looked dead. Then watched Tim bend over to slowly remove his shoes, which were hard to untie because the laces were soaked and his fingers were trembling. Looking down as Tim bent from the waist, Darryl noted Tim's trim form in the soaking wet trousers. "He must have been a soccer player or shortstop, this one," Darryl thought to himself as he noted Tim's lean yet lightly muscular butt. Finally Tim got his shoes off, then pulled the socks off quickly.

"Need to get you out of those wet clothes. And warmed up. Come on, a hot shower will help," said Darryl as he moved around Tim and walked across the spacious room with a very high ceiling and down the short hallway to the bathroom. Hearing "hot shower" Tim's only thought was "yeah, that'd be great", so he didn't hesitate this time in following Darryl. Although a bit behind...naturally and without thinking...allowing a little distance between him and the tall man who had shed his outer coat, but was still layered in a lighter jacket and a sweater.

Stopping suddenly at the thermostat, Darryl increased the temperature a couple degrees, knowing the rooms needed to feel warmer for his shivering guest. "That'll help some," Darryl said as he looked back at his wet guest who hadn't stopped so quickly, so was now right behind him. Looking down out of the corner of his eye, seeing the surprised man struggle to stop his forward momentum...looking like he wanted to actually step back so not to be so close as he looked up at his tall host, Darryl held Tim's open mouthed gaze for a moment and then, without any change in expression, winked down at him. Involuntarily Tim gave a startled gasped, although it was so quiet he didn't even notice it in his stunned state. But Darryl turned away to hide his smile, because he had heard it, and didn't want to give Tim any time to realize it.

"In here."

Darryl went immediately to the shower and turned on the hot water. "This will help warm you up. Get out of those wet clothes and get in here," charged Darryl as he closed the sliding door to the shower to let the steam and warmth build up.

Tim nodded, then started taking off his shirt. Carefully, methodically unbuttoning his dress shirt. His efforts were slowed because he was so cold, of course.

"I'll get a towel for you," said Darryl as he left the bathroom, closing the door behind him to keep the heat in.

Finally Tim was able to get his t-shirt off, a task made harder because the tight, wet shirt was all but plastered to his body. But just as he pulled the bulk of the shirt over his head, Darryl burst into the bathroom. At least, for the rather private Tim, that's what it seemed like as the door swung open and the tall man reentered the bathroom.

"Aren't you in there yet?" Darryl said as he put the towel over the rack. Tim was frozen, both in body and in brain, not even finishing his task of pulling the t-shirt off the rest of the way.

"I....uh.....well, I....it's hard to get this off," stammered Tim.

"Do you need me to take it off you?"

"uh....no....um....no....I can manage," flustered Tim.

"Well, you need to get in the shower now," declared Darryl as he opened the sliding door and putting in a different liquid soap, then reaching up his long arm and putting the soap that had been in there at the very top of the shower stall, out of sight and reach. "I'm going to put some water on to boil for a hot drink. If you're not in there when I get back, I'll put you in, wet clothes and all."

Feeling the flash of heat from the shower, Tim had finished pulling his t-shirt off and was unbuckling his belt as Darryl left again. As he started to undo his trousers, the words hit him. "put me in, wet clothes and all"? Momentarily frozen, his hands stilled while his brain struggled to process, Tim finally shook his head and made some sense of it. "Hrmph, probably wouldn't hurt since they're already soaked." "Good thing he's thinking, since my mind's a bit frozen," Tim thought as he pulled his pants down. "Man, it's a good thing he's here and so generous...could have been a lot worse for me," Tim continued in his mind as he pulled down his briefs, and then finally stepped in to the hot shower.

"Aaahhh. This....feels....great."

From his high vantage point, Darryl looked down through the window in the bathroom door as Tim stripped down, noting when Tim stopped, momentarily frozen. Chuckling to himself, Darryl figured his words had finally made their way to Tim's brain at that point. With keen attention, Darryl noticed Tim shake his head and then proceed. Chuckling again, Darryl said under his breath, "yeah, you're thinking that stepping in to the shower with your clothes on would make sense since they're already wet. But you skipped the first part, didn't you little man. When I said I'd put you in."

Darryl eyed the small, pale body of his guest, nodding as he thought he was right about soccer. Or maybe, with those glutes and quads, maybe a lot of tennis. Keeps himself fit. Not any extra fat on him, either. Probably about 140 lbs. A man's body. A lean, small man's body. A naturally lean body, not able to bulk up. But definitely with muscle tone. Asserts himself not with size, but doing the best with what he's got. A man worthy of respect as I put him in his place. Then, after watching the shower door slide closed and hearing the exclamation of pleasure, Darryl headed to the kitchen to turn the kettle on.

Then going to his room, Darryl removed his light jacket and sweater, then his t-shirt. Quickly he folded it up and put on another one, and went in to the bathroom again. "Here's something to wear while your clothes dry," called Darryl over the shower as he put the folded t-shirt on the counter. Hearing the deep voice, Tim startled, surprised out of reverie of enjoying the hot water warming him up. Immediately bashful because someone else was in the room, even though he was behind the shower door, Tim then stuttered in his mind thinking about his clothes. About not having any...and getting a little embarrassed by that idea. Then, as Darryl's words sank in, feeling real gratitude for Darryl's providing for him again.

"uh.......ok," was all Tim could muster as his thoughts swirled around. Even though he knew he was fit, and had nothing to be embarrassed about, well, except for his lack of height, he never showered at the gym. Too open with the communal shower. Now, to be showering with a complete stranger on the other side of the door...with him walking in to the bathroom without knocking knowing Tim'd be naked....was unsettling. "He acts like he has every right to come in here," thought Tim with his usual irritation at someone moving in to his space without permission.

"Hrmph....well, it is his house. Guess it makes sense that he acts like he owns it. Even though I'd prefer my privacy. And he is taking care of me here," said Tim to himself as it hit him and he realized in a way that it made sense. Then in counterpoint Tim's thoughts went to "But, I'll just have to establish myself when I'm done in here. So he knows to respect me," thought Tim as he once again felt his manhood being challenged by a take charge man. "I've worked with tall guys before...they learn to see me...not my height. Don't need to be in charge....but do want the tall man to show me consideration even though I'm short," contemplated Tim to himself. Feeling the strength that comes up from within when competing and asserting himself, Tim relaxed a bit.

Then, in a flash, Tim realized he didn't even know the man's name! Had not even said thank you. Cold, shivering, just in an accident...well, not surprising. But still no way to behave. Abashed at his lack of politeness, and appreciation, Tim knew he needed to finish up and go out and express his thanks. "He's been helpful, caring, even directing me when I really couldn't think" he thought as he reached for the wash rag, poured the soap out onto it, rubbed it together, and brought it to his face. "Hmmm, roses. Just like Mary's," Tim thought as he paused, not sure about using the feminine smelling soap. Then, not seeing any other option, and knowing he wanted to get all that ditch run-off removed from his body, Tim shrugged and proceeded to soap up thoroughly.

As he rinsed off, he looked at the shower for the first time. Surprised how big it was. How high up the shower head was. Tim extended his arm but couldn't reach it. Wow, this is a huge shower. I can see how a tall guy would like the height. But why would he want all this space? Maybe if you get it this tall, it has to be this wide. Well, however big, great water pressure. Finally feel warm and can think. So, now to go meet my generous host.

Sliding the door open slowly, checking to make sure he was alone, Tim reached for the folded towel. Hmm, soft and fluffy. Unfolding it, then unfolding it more, Tim soon had a huge towel in his hands, which he used to dry off and wrap around himself at the same time. Wonder why he uses beach towels instead of regular towels. Big beach towels at that.

Looking down through the window in the door after he heard the shower door slide open, Darryl watched Tim dry himself off. Don't want to startle the little guy too much. Need to time this just right...to see if he'll use the towel as a wrap.

Just as Tim was appreciating the size of the towel as he had it fully around himself, with only his shoulders and arms free, the door swung open and Darryl stepped in. "It's time for you to be out. As nice as that warm water feels, I'm not having you shrivel like a prune," laughed Darryl in his rich, warm voice. Made a shade more commanding as he watched Tim jump a little in surprise...then wrap the towel around himself tightly. From right under his arm pits, the towel wrapped around and hung down past his knees.

With his back to the door, Tim hadn't seen it open. Or heard it. So he did jump when he heard the voice right behind him. And even with the towel around him felt very exposed. "Uh....well....no. I mean, yeah. Don't want to shrink any," Tim stammered as he threw an unseeing glance over his shoulder. "Um....I mean...shrivel."

A small smile played on Darryl's lips as he saw Tim struggling to tie the big towel, and with the image the words innocently brought forth. "Your clothes are drying, so here's something to wear."

"uh....that's ok....this towel's big enough," said Tim as he finally finished getting set.

"You've just come in from the wet, getting soaked, and now a long shower. Enough of the wet and damp for you. Otherwise, you will shrivel," Darryl said in his calm, deliberate way, with a smile. "You will wear this," Darryl continued in a decisive voice. "Come on, I want to get the towel drying too."

Not wanting to be without the extra covering, but back to remembering what his host had already done for him, and not wanting to cause a conflict with him, Tim accepted the plan and turned to the counter and lifted the t-shirt. With Darryl standing at the door, Tim opened it quickly and pulled it over his head, letting it then fall down once he had his arms in it. Catching a faint whiff of aftershave...the same kind his high school coach used to wear that always smelled so masculine...strength personified...funny how smells trigger memories so quickly....Tim thought there must have been some on the counter that the shirt had just soaked up. Boy, this shirt feels warm...he must have brought it right in from the dryer, thought Tim to himself...feeling good deep down inside him from the warmth and the male strength the smell brought up, that he always appreciated and tried to exude...the good feeling that filled him deep down inside.

Chuckling to himself seeing Tim's reaction to the t-shirt he had just been wearing, with his smell on it, warm from his body heat, Darryl waited a moment to let Tim soak in his scent, his presence now surrounding the small man. Not realizing how long he had taken unwittingly absorbing the input from the shirt, Tim finally remembered he wanted express his appreciation.

As he turned to face his host he started, "Oh, I wanted to say...." But then stopped...stunned by what he saw. For before him, filling up the space even in the large bathroom with very high ceilings, was a massive man! Not just tall, but big. How could he not have noticed how big this giant was?! Tim's eyes bulged in shock seeing the chest, shoulders, arms...built from working them, and lifting weights too. A defensive lineman's size...and obvious strength...thick forearms darker because of the covering of hair. Too overwhelmed even to move...filled with another flash of memory of Coach Schmidt...feeling as small as he had then...smelling him...seeing his incredible power...Tim stood there with his mouth hanging open.

Completely motionless, letting the small man get overwhelmed in the small space, and by his surprise, Darryl waited. Knowing that the jacket and bulky sweater had hidden his size before. Knowing that he was as strong as he looked. Even stronger. And that other men got very intimidated in his full presence. Malleably so. Time to exert another level of control.

"I said, I want to get the towel drying. Give it to me," Darryl said in a quiet yet commanding voice, pitched not to frighten but to elicit compliance.

As if in molasses, Tim slowly processed Darryl's words. Part of his brain agreeing, wanting to do what this powerful man wanted. So his hands pulled up the t-shirt to undo the towel. But once he had undone the towel, he remembered he didn't have anything on underneath. "Oh....um....I don't have any....um....shorts," Tim said a bit bashfully. "Do you...uh...have any I could borrow?"

"Nah...you're such a little guy....I don't have any that would fit you," replied Darryl in a voice that conveyed the difference in their sizes. "But it's ok...you don't need them...that shirt is big enough." After a beat Darryl held out his hand, "Hand me the towel."

His mind reeling...hearing the big man wasn't going to give him anything for underneath to cover and secure himself....not liking it.....but then thinking about how big the t-shirt was...realizing it really was long, past his knees...knowing he would be covered...and not wanting to be in conflict, Tim looked at that big hand....and as if compelled finished taking the towel from around his body. Modestly lowering the t-shirt as he did so he could remain covered. Finally he lifted the big towel up and gave it to the huge man. Standing there in just the t-shirt, Tim shrank a little inside...very intimidated...feeling exposed.

Then more so when he heard "Yeah...there's room for a couple of you in that shirt."

"Now, I want you to feel relaxed and loose, little man," Darryl continued, then winked down at Tim again. And then both sides of the big man's mouth curled up a bit as he watched as Tim's ears get a little red.

Turning quickly and stepping into the hallway, Darryl said, "Now that you're warmed up and sweet smelling on the outside, I want to get something hot in you." Without thinking Tim followed the big man out just as the whistle started from the kitchen, although he gave a quick glance at the huge back of the massive man when the words penetrated and spurred his thoughts (...there was no other soap...it does smell sweet...a nice smell, but I wouldn't have used it if... only to have his thoughts cut off by the big man's voice).

"There's the water boiling. Go take the kettle off while I take care of this towel," Darryl said.

Tim took another step automatically before stopping, bringing him beside his host, but then hesitated "Uh.....uh...." remembering he was only in a t-shirt. A big, oversized, hanging off him like a dress that went down just below his knees and over his elbows t-shirt..that still left him feeling underdressed even though he was covered everywhere but his lower calves..because he had no underwear on and could feel his dick and balls swinging free as he moved into the hall. "I'm...uh...maybe I should wait here."

As Tim was speaking, his eyes looking across the space to the kitchen, Darryl turned and looked down at him. Tim continued from his independent part of his brain, "yeah...I...uh...I'm good here."

"uhh," Tim exclaimed in surprise as Darryl's big hand swatted his butt, stinging him through the thin material.

"Go get the kettle off. I'm taking care of the towel and don't want it to continue whistling," Darryl said with quiet and deliberate decisiveness.

Tim went.

As he was crossing the space, his butt still feeling the strong hand, he was reminded of Coach Schmidt again...how he expected to be listened to...no refusing to do what he said or you'd feel it on your butt. And Tim had felt it a fair amount, because he was independent minded, with ideas of his own. And would express them. He knew Coach Schmidt liked that...he was always telling them to think about strategy, possibilities, options. But, when Coach had made up his mind, he made it clear that he wanted compliance. Tim's glutes involuntarily clenched again as he walked, feeling again the current contact and the old lesson that had been trained in to him. So he went to the stove and removed the kettle, forgetting for the moment that he didn't have anything on underneath the loose, thin t-shirt.

To Be Continued

Next: Chapter 2


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