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 3 The Meal
Hearing Darryl on the phone, Tim didn't want to eavesdrop, so he forced himself to concentrate on the meal preparation. Although he didn't usually do the cooking, he knew how, and looked at what was available. "Hmmm, I could make chicken parmesan with spaghetti. With these spices I can make a very tasty sauce. And it'd be real filling. Wonder how much he'd eat? How much it'd take to fill up that big body? Well, I eat a lot more than it looks like I should, since I burn up a lot...he might not eat a whole lot more than I do. I'll make enough for leftovers...it actually tastes better the next day anyway. Oh, good, plenty of good stuff for salad, too."
As he got involved, Tim talked a little to himself, to remind himself of how to make the sauce. And because it wasn't quiet from the other room as he heard the deep voice in the other room. He wanted to do this well. "He's been so nice to me. Real generous. I want him to have a real treat tonight."
Darryl worked as Tim stayed in the kitchen cooking. After his third phone conversation, Darryl called out "We'll eat at the table out here tonight."
"uh...Okay," responded Tim from the kitchen.
"The plates and bowls are in the cabinet next to the fridge." Then he picked up the phone and placed another call. Tim's eyes flashed open quickly hearing that..."I never set the table...that requires a delicate touch," Tim thought to himself. Then he shook his head, and after a few moments of consideration, "Well...guess he doesn't know I never set the table"...Tim thought longer..."Well, he is busy...and he is expecting it...guess I could do it."
When Darryl finished his calls, and writing up his notes, he moved to his big easy chair, pulled out the newspaper, and began to read the sections he hadn't already looked at. "All that talking has made me thirsty. Would you bring me a big glass of water, Timmy?" Darryl said without looking up at the small man who had just brought the plates out to the table.
"oh...uh...sure," replied Tim as his ears turned a little red at hearing the diminutive. But not being able to object to it, nor to the idea of taking him a drink when he wasn't on the phone working anymore. As he walked across the room with the glass in his hand, he thought he better say something about calling him Tim. But just before he opened his mouth, Darryl said "Bring me the phone too, since you're right there." In response to the directness in Darryl's voice, Tim automatically looked for the phone, saw he was already past it...glanced back at the man in the chair just reading the paper...then shrugged a bit...well, I wasn't right there, but I am still closer than he is. So he stepped back, got the phone, and carried it Darryl in one hand with the glass of water in the other.
When Tim was right beside him, Darryl said "Some of these editorials are incredible. Not sure how much they get paid, but seems they should have to pay to say some of this stuff." He then continued reading the editorial, finishing the last few paragraphs. Holding the phone and glass, Tim felt awkward...yet somehow wasn't sure about interrupting. So he stood and waited uncertainly. Finally without even taking his eyes off the newspaper Darryl reached out and took the phone and said "The coasters are on the hutch."
It took Tim a few seconds to realize that Darryl wasn't just commenting on what he was reading. And then realize Darryl expected him to go get a coaster. Tim debated with himself about giving Darryl the glass...wonder if he knows I brought it too since he never even looked up...well he did know I had the phone...be easier if he took the glass thought Tim, but just as he was about to say so Darryl shifted and said something in response to what he was reading...and Tim hesitated...not wanting to be a distraction. And then thinking...well guess he wants it done right...if you bring a drink, you put it on a coaster...why do I think it's about doing it right, puzzled Tim...shrugging to himself he thought, don't know...but he's right, it is the right way...I can do it right.
After the internal debate, Tim retrieved a coaster, stood beside Darryl again to give him the glass, but then realized Darryl didn't want it right then. Ok, guess I can just set this down for him, so he went around to set the coaster and glass down on the side table. As he was walking back toward the kitchen, Darryl's deep, rich voice washed over him "Thanks, Timmy." Which both made his ears a little red when he realized he hadn't spoken before to establish his preference, and yet made him feel strangely good that Darryl had noticed his effort.
When dinner was ready, Tim brought out the bowls and platters and said "Dinner's ready." "It smells great," replied Darryl as he stood up and went to the head of table. "No, not over there. Move your place to here," Darryl said, indicating for Tim to move his setting from the other end of the table to the seat beside him. "I like the cook close as I enjoy the meal. And after the workout I've had today, I'm going to enjoy this," said Darryl as he gave a casual flex of his upper body.
Ready to protest Darryl's initial statement, since the table was small enough he could be at the other end rather than in a side seat, Tim was stopped in his thoughts by seeing Darryl flex. So casually. Yet a ripple went up his chest like a wave as his shoulders somehow got harder, and his biceps looked like a tennis ball got in them. Just for a second. Then they relaxed again. But, Tim observed, if he hadn't just seen them flexed, he might not have thought of them now as relaxed. They were still so big. Full...thick...very hard and solid. Perhaps as big as my quad. Oh man...his arm is as big as my leg! Dumbfounded, and staring, Tim just stood there at the end of the table.
With a little upturn of his lips, Darryl watched the small man. And gave him a couple moments before motioning with his finger to the place beside him. Startled, Tim gulped, then quickly moved his place setting and sat down. "Now, that's where I want you. It's time to enjoy this great meal," said Darryl as he took his usual helping. His huge helping to Tim's wide eyes. That's more than twice what I can eat, even if I'm stuffing myself! I didn't make extra for left-overs, but just barely enough to feed this bear.
Tim's wide eyes moved from the enormous portions on Darryl's plate to the big man himself, and noticed his thick, football lineman wide neck that stretched the t-shirt across to those boulders of shoulders. Seeing the muscles flex and move as Darryl loaded his plate, Tim couldn't help but think of how much Darryl's t-shirt hung on him. Pulling it a little to rearrange it and make it less obvious, Tim pulled some excess material into his lap. And gave a groan of surprised pleasure when his hands lowered down onto his lap.
Unable to think for a few moments as the wave of intense pleasure flowed over him, Tim didn't see the corners of Darryl's mouth form into even more of a smirk. "You okay there, little man," asked Darryl.
After a long few moments, Darryl's question penetrated Tim's brain. "uh...yeah," he answered. Then as his brain processed more, processed some indescribable tone, Tim glanced at Darryl. And opened his eyes again in a flash and gave an involuntary intake of air when he saw him wink. Unable to look away, Tim was filled with two conflicting feelings: one was embarrassment at being hard. But that was overridden by pleasure...the secret pleasure of sitting this close...that Darryl had made him come closer...of feeling the heat from those incredible muscles that contained such power...of being toyed with by the man in total control of himself.
"Put your hands up on the table, Timmy," commanded Darryl in a quiet yet compelling voice. "No touching that until I tell you," continued Darryl as he watched Tim's hands come up. "Right now we're going to get some nourishment. Build our strength by enjoying this meal. So get started." Slowly, but without hesitation Tim started serving himself, then began eating, his brain only partially processing. "Don't know why I'm doing what he says...but...glad he got me moving," thought Tim sheepishly. "Can't believe I was actually starting to rub myself! After a few moments shaking his head, and then glancing back at the big man, Tim was struck again...man...he's so powerful. So strong. All man."
Letting Tim process...consider...even day dream, Darryl casually chatted with him about different things. Never overwhelming the space. Or pushing the pace too fast. Just enough to keep him from freezing or getting stuck. Enough to distract him so he would eat. Moving the conversation frequently, forcing Tim to try to catch up...to pay attention. Finally, after a good, full meal, Darryl said "I could eat more, but want to save my exertions for later. Go ahead and clear this off," he continued. Without even thinking about it, Tim got up and started to lift his plate, but then saw Darryl motion to his plate. Which Tim then reached to take first.
"Excellent meal, Timmy," said Darryl as he reached around and gave Tim's butt a light swat of appreciation. "uhg" escaped Tim's lips involuntarily. He quickly lifted Darryl's dirty dishes and carried them in to the kitchen, and then "uhg" again came out as he felt the t-shirt rub his hard dick. That feels so good, thought Tim. And in a non-vocal part of his mind, his brain processed how good his butt felt...how much he could still feel the strong hand of appreciation.
But he stopped himself, the discipline of not rubbing himself kicking in. But this time it was Darryl's deep voice doing the reminding in his head not to touch. Taking a deep breath, Tim then continued walking into the kitchen, albeit with a little bit of a waddle so he wouldn't rub himself inadvertently in the big t-shirt that hung loose and would make contact intermittently.
His brain processing, stuttering, rebooting, Tim worked without thinking on clearing off the table and cleaning up the kitchen. Taking many deep breaths to clear his mind. Then, he heard Darryl say "I'm going out to take the trash out and get some wood, and get a file from my car." Suddenly Tim's thoughts popped to the work he had planned on doing today...and his mind went into business mode...so as he was going out to get the rest of the dinner dishes from the table, he asked "Would you get my briefcase out of my car, too?"
Getting dressed to go out in the cold, Darryl wasn't really listening. But then did understand. "Your briefcase?" he asked, leading Tim to explain more.
"Yes, I need to finish writing up some things from the meetings this morning. I always do it the day of the meeting," responded Tim as he walked over to the door, picking up the keys from the side table and holding them out. "Should be in the front seat," he said as he reverted to his typically efficient tone.
Waiting a beat, Darryl reached out his hand and enveloped Tim's entire hand. "You've already had a long day, with the meetings, the driving, the little accident, and getting so cold. The write-ups can wait until tomorrow," stated Darryl as he slide his hand down Tim's fingers and took the key from him. He then reached down and placed the key back down on the table.
"But...um...," Tim stammered, stunned at not being listened to when he had made up his mind. "um...no...I need to do the write-ups," Tim managed to say as he watched Darryl reach down and put the key down, then stand up to his full height. And then felt those big hands take him by the shoulders and turn him around as Darryl said, "You want to do it. And it is a good practice. But you don't need to do it. Not today."
"um...but...I do," Tim stuttered as he struggled with his thoughts.
"No. You don't," said Darryl in a voice that was clear, commanding, and brokered no argument. "I want you to rest from that. So, while I get the wood, you go bake some brownies," Darryl finished as he reached down and gave Tim a forceful swat on his butt. Followed by another resounding swat, which Tim felt outside through the thin t-shirt and inside as it penetrated deep into his brain. A third swat got Tim moving back into the kitchen. Darryl watched the small man obey, then went outside.
Tim proceeded to clean the kitchen and then bake the brownies. His brain no longer involved with the demeanor of work. Not even wondering about his willingness to do the kitchen tasks. He was too settled...too secure in the rightness of doing the things Darryl wanted to question it or himself. A peace had washed over him which kept him from considering why he accepted it...a peace he wanted to hold on to...that gave him a deep desire to please the big man.
After taking care of the trash, and several trips to the wood pile, then walking out to the road to see conditions, and then filling the several bird feeders, Darryl came back in with the file from his car. As soon as Tim heard the door open, he came around from the kitchen. "That was a lot of wood you moved."
"Yeah, I should have done it yesterday, but didn't think I'd light a fire tonight," Darryl responded as he held out the file. "Put this on the desk," he said, then unbuttoned his coat as Tim put the file where Darryl told him, then walked back toward the door, asking "What else did you do...I was wondering cuz it took you a while to come back in. I mean, the brownies are already done."
"Here, come help me with this coat," said Darryl as he turned, assuming Tim would come. "I filled up the bird feeders out back," he said, as he felt Tim's small hands reach up and pull his coat off, right side first, then left, smiling with just the corners of his mouth that Tim had done what he told him to...and had been watching and waiting for him. Yes, this little man is ready, thought Darryl.
Stretching up to the top of that incredibly broad back, Tim felt the solidity as he pulled the coat off. And then the weight of the overcoat...the big, heavy overcoat he actually had to make an effort to lift up. Finally he gathered enough to be able to pick it up and hang it up. And then turned to see Darryl's piercing blue eyes looking down at him, causing Tim to gulp and then have his mouth hang open. "These boots are a lot closer to you, Timmy. Go ahead and get them off my feet," commanded Darryl so smoothly, so compellingly, Tim almost heard it as a request.
He looked down, expecting the boot to come up. Then his ears reddened thinking about Darryl's comment, feeling rather small, realizing what Darryl was telling him to do. As always part of him objected, determined to establish his independence. But just as his mind was processing and understanding that, Tim heard the deep, clear voice saying "My fingers are a little cold from moving all that wood." Which reminded Tim of all the physical work Darryl had just been doing. Out in the cold. That he would have been in if it hadn't been for this man.
When Darryl saw the point/counterpoint going on in Tim's head, he put a big paw on Tim's shoulder and pressed down. Once again Tim's immediate reaction was to resist, not liking to be physically directed. Without thinking he pushed back up, trying to stay standing upright. But the weight of that hand was 10 pounds more than the maximum Tim could handle. Slowly, inexorably the weight of that hand pushed down through every muscle beneath it...smoothly, gradually pushing Tim down in spite of his resistance, in spite of his grunts.
And just when Tim's brain had finished processing what was happening and he was going to object, he heard the deep, smooth, totally controlled voice above him say, "I think you've warmed up enough for your fingers to work." Which somehow took Tim's mind off the pressure and made Tim conscious of how warm his own fingers felt from being inside, baking. And with his mind on how comfortable he was after being so cold, and how much Darryl had done for him, Tim thought "I can't believe this" as his knees bent and he felt the continuous pressure to go down. "Can't believe...I'm going to do it," as his knees touched the floor. "Well...but...I guess it is a small thing." After that resonated in his head for a bit, Tim continued his thought, "It is a small way to repay him. Just suck it up...it's not that bad."
"And...well," he argued with himself, "guess it'd be hard for him to keep his balance with the foot in the air while I tried to untie the boots. It's a long fall from way up there. And I am closer," Tim thought, repeating Darryl's statement to himself as he reached his fingers and worked off the boots. Then the socks, first the right, then the left. Stunned by the size of Darryl's feet. Long. Wide. Then, for some reason as he was kneeling, holding Darryl's left foot, Tim glanced up...and his mouth hung open wide as Darryl's intense gaze pierced him in place. He couldn't move. Even if he had wanted to. And he didn't want to. He could only feel the intensity, the power flowing down onto him. The hunger. The desire. And he shivered with a yearning to feel that power. Shivered knowing he was the object of desire for this overpowering man.
Looking down, seeing that he had moved Tim to a place he couldn't escape from, Darryl said "Let's go, little man" in a quiet, utterly unalterable voice as he reached down and picked up the small man, sweeping him into his arms effortlessly. "I know what you need."
Beyond thinking for a moment, Tim could only feel the strength of the huge man who had lifted him up and was holding him seemingly without strain. Then, as it hit him, his ears and face got red. And he felt very small. And helpless. Yet, after a moment, he realized he wasn't struggling. Wasn't trying to get down. Because as weak as he felt, even more he felt safe.
"Are you ready? Ready for me to give you what you need?" asked Darryl as he walked slowly across the room, the small man securely in his arms, eyes boring into the private man in his arms. Intensely private, but unable to keep anything from the big man. Literally swept off his feet. Overwhelmed with feeling small...weak...vulnerable...and...yet somehow...secure. Knowing deep down inside that he was safe, and that he did have to escape this man, escape where he had him. And slowly he nodded in response.
Walking to the bathroom, Darryl lowered Tim down to his feet. "You may touch yourself now, Timmy, so you can empty your bladder," said Darryl as he turned Tim toward the commode and gave him a light pat and squeeze on his little butt. Tim's eyes flashed open again hearing Darryl tell him he could touch himself...I haven't been...but not because he told me not to, was it? Just as that thought crossed his mind, he felt Darryl's big hand...and Tim grunted from the feeling. Once again his mind cleared of his thoughts and he realized he did need to take a whiz, so he just lifted up the long t-shirt. And waited, trying to will his dick down, at least a bit, not able to process why he was so hard. He just didn't want to touch it, afraid of the stimulation. Chuckling, Darryl said "Take your time, little man. Then brush your teeth...toothbrush's in the package on the counter. I'm going to go lock up and make sure everything's secure."
Tim was trying to relax, breathing deeply, and then was able to get his flow started. It took a while to finish, since he hadn't gone since the morning. And then Darryl's words hit him, and he blushed at being taken care of...but was surprisingly excited that Darryl was securing things...securing him...that he didn't have to be the protector. Not even trying to make sense of it, Tim just responded automatically from the thrill, with an involuntary flex of his newly rehardened dick.
Just then Darryl walked in to the bathroom, his big body filling up the space immediately. And went right to the commode, unzipping his pants. "All secure," Darryl said, surprising Tim by using the term Tim had been feeling. And then let his stream flow. Tim's eyes flashed open wide when he heard the force of the stream...but, bashful, he busied himself finishing his task of cleaning his teeth and rinsing his mouth. All the while Darryl's stream continued. Tim was astonished by the amount. Didn't think my bladder was small, thought Tim. The big amount I just voided was much more than a woman could hold, but is barely even a quarter what he's unloading. Amazed, feeling Darryl's masculinity even more, Tim turned off the water and listened to him finish.
Darryl then washed his hands and brushed his teeth, with Tim standing right beside him at the sink. Letting Tim's eyes wander over the flexing, moving muscles. The bulk shifting under the t-shirt. Then, after drying his hands and mouth, Darryl reached his right hand around the front of Tim's body, reaching down and picking the small man up, Tim's little butt against Darryl's hip, and then carried him effortlessly into the bedroom. "Wha...what are we going to do?" asked Tim weakly.
With a deep chuckle Darryl said, "Whatever I want." And he slide his left hand under Tim's butt and gave a slow, deliberate, deep squeeze. "uhahghg" escaped Tim's throat.
"I'm going to show you how it feels to be with a real man," Darryl exuded as he gave another slow, strong squeeze to Tim's little butt while carrying him in to the bedroom. "Do you want to feel that, Timmy?" Through the fog Tim understood enough, and nodded. "No," said Darryl in a quiet, commanding voice. "Tell me."
After a third devastating squeeze, with jolts coursing up his body from that powerful hand, Tim finally said weakly, "Yes, I want to feel it."
Hearing this small but completely masculine man say he wanted to feel it...to be the object of desire...to be the recipient...made Darryl's chest swell and started the blood flowing south as he stepped in front of his bed. "Well, you will, little man," said Darryl with such a cocky, powerful voice Tim stopped wondering why he wanted this, why he was feeling this way, what was going on with him. He had never before wanted to yield to a man, yet here he was, asking for it. Then a final squeeze on his butt sent electricity to all parts of his body, driving out any questions or doubts.
To Be Continued