For those of you who wrote and said you were sorry to see it end, this is for you. After a break, matching the story, I imagined that the following might occur. Hope it lives up to the previous. This is 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. And it is still 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 8 Cleaning Up
Standing there, at the door, waiting...Tim began to breath again. To settle down. To feel the fog clearing. "What am I doing," he asked himself tentatively. "Came here to establish myself as independent...equal...but I've just let my friendly, helpful nature take over. Easy stuff to do...I'm good at it...and don't like conflict because most conflict can be resolved by reasonableness. But...somehow...don't feel like he knows who I am."
Feeling himself relax just a bit, the slight pressure ease in his groin, he thought "And with the wife out of town for the week, always happens for me to get hard when exerting. Good for burning off some desire...but can show up a little sometimes too."
Shaking his head a bit...clearing out the cobwebs...Tim thought more definitively "Well, I've been friendly and helpful. Now it's time to be assertive and show who I am. Now...need to get going."
Right then, as Tim stepped toward the front of the porch, Darryl came around the side of the house. Seeing him, Tim said "This has been a great workout...even broke a sweat...but gonna need to get on the road."
Without breaking stride Darryl walked past the steps to drop off the rock he was carrying. Not responding until he was past the steps, Darryl said over his shoulder "Yes, you have your responsibilities."
"Yes, I do," echoed Tim, a bit surprised to hear agreement on that as he watched Darryl put down the big rock.
Walking back to the porch, Darryl said in a matter of fact voice "Each day calls for readjustments of priorities. You have to determine how important something is. And the time I gave you let you see that your meeting is important."
Nodding his head Tim agreed "Yes, I do have to make judgments and determinations. Part of the job. Part of the role," pleased that he could once again assert that he was a decider, in charge.
Climbing the steps Darryl said "Then by all means I'll make sure you get to the meeting." Which brought a quick smile and deep breath of relief to Tim, who once again experienced the pleasure of asserting himself in a way that did not bring conflict. "Ok. Good. Thanks," responded Tim as Darryl passed him and went to the door.
Opening the door and stepping in Darryl said "I'll let you go. But I have my responsibilities too. Which I have to take care of..." Darryl said as he motioned for Tim to move to a spot right beside him on the foyer carpet. "Oh...yeah...of course," agreed Tim as he automatically followed Darryl into the house and then to the free spot next to him.
As Darryl started taking off his shoes, Tim did the same. "You did good work today...you have a good eye...that garden is already looking much better," Darryl talked easily. "Sorry to see you go. There's much more I had planned to use you on."
Responding to the compliments, Tim smiled, and said "I'm sure there is...but I want to have the meeting today rather than tomorrow. Now...just need to get changed."
Hearing the extra touch of assertion in the small man's voice, Darryl glanced at Tim as he was standing back up, thinking to himself "You're going to get changed, little man...but you're going to have to ask for it" and then said "Looks like you brought in half the yard there, Timmy. What did you do to yourself?" as he reached out and brushed off Tim's back a few times.
"Oh..." startled Tim when he felt the big hand quickly brush down his back, "forgot about that. Slipped and fell. It's nothing."
After giving a third brush while Tim was speaking, Darryl said "No, this won't do. Too much on here to brush off."
"Well, I was just going to go to the bathroom and change," explained Tim.
"No, not with that mess on you. You'd be dropping dirt on the way," declared Darryl. "Take it off here," he continued as he slipped two fingers under the collar and tugged up to show what he wanted, "Don't want all the dirt tracking through the house."
"uh...well...uh...yeah," processed Tim thinking he hadn't realized how much dirt he had on him from the fall, "that'd probably be better," and proceeded to try to pull the shirt out. However, the oversized shorts were pinned so tight Tim couldn't pull the t-shirt out. He tried again...then shifted his hands and tried pulling again. But the shirt wouldn't come out of the shorts.
Busying himself with something in the closet, Darryl let Tim try. Finally, he closed the closet door, looked at Tim, and with a touch of impatience said "Come on...Get that shirt off."
"I...uh...it won't...grunt...come out," offered Tim as he tried again.
"Well you're not leaving this spot until it's off," declared Darryl.
"ugh..." grunted Tim as he tried again, realizing now that somehow the shirt was knotted up inside the shorts, and even though he had tried, he couldn't unpin the shorts in the back. Finally, quietly he said "uh...the shirt's stuck in the back."
"I can see that" responded Darryl.
"Yes," answered Tim. Then, when nothing more was forthcoming from Darryl, Tim finally asked "would you...um...be able to unpin the shorts?"
Gazing down at the short man, Darryl waited a couple beats, then said "I put you in there...only right that I get you out. Turn around, little man." Tim's ears turned red faster than his body turned around. But he did want out of the t-shirt now, so he turned around to give Darryl access to the pin. And then stayed red as he felt the tightening as Darryl undid the pin. Followed by a he thought silent grunt of relief at the easing of pressure around his waist.
Before Tim could take his second breath, however, he felt big hands taking hold of the t-shirt and pulling it straight up. So quickly and determinedly that Tim's arms went up as well as Darryl stripped the t-shirt right off Tim, the protest that he could do it himself forming in his mouth only after it wasn't needed. Then, shrugging his shoulders a little bit, Tim thought "well...I would have done it...guess it doesn't matter now."
"Here, put that by the shoes," Darryl said as he held out the t-shirt. Glancing at the shoes, Tim shook his head slightly trying to process why it needed to go there...and just as he was going to say "why don't you just put it there", Darryl said sharply "Fold it so the dirt's next to the material."
A bit startled at the tone, Tim forgot his thought but instead thought again about the fall he took and the dirt..."well, he did let me wear it instead of getting my own clothes dirty...should at least put it in order now that I'm done wearing it" and accepted the t-shirt, folded it, and placed it by the shoes.
"Since I've got to get you taken care of, think I'll change too," said Darryl as he began to pull off his sweat soaked t-shirt. Right next to the big man, Tim's mind absorbed how wet Darryl's t-shirt was. "Mine was wet cuz it was hot and we worked hard...but still only in spots...that thing is plastered to him" Tim processed. And then watched as Darryl's hands pulled up the bottom of his t-shirt, lifting it to reveal a flat stomach, lightly covered with dark hair contrasting with his skin. And then his eyes traveled up as Darryl's hands lifted the t-shirt higher, up over his chest. Mouth slowly dropping open, Tim stared at the massive chest right in front of him...meaty, hairy pecs right at eye level...so naturally filled with the unreal strength that his mind unconsciously recalled.
Eyes unable to shift, Tim only barely registered Darryl's hands reaching behind his head to pull the t-shirt off by the collar. In his peripheral vision, and in the peripheral part of his brain, Tim saw the deep, full lats that framed the barrel chest...and the powerhouse arms that were bigger than his quads...but could not register a conscious thought. And was thus only dimly aware of Darryl speaking.
"Hmmm...can't put this down here...too wet...it'll make a mess of that dirt..." Darryl thought aloud, his voice on a time delay from Tim's ears to his brain. "Need a good place to put this for now" Darryl continued..."Let's see..." as he lifted the t-shirt over Tim's head and lowered it down. "Arms up," Darryl ordered in a warship captain's voice that brokered no hesitation, let alone objection.
The clarity of the order reached Tim's brain faster, so he automatically lifted his arms. As Darryl lowered the t-shirt over Tim's arms he said in a voice of encouragement "That's a lot better than having your arms pinned down by the shirt, isn't it?"
"uh...yeah," Tim replied automatically, thinking Darryl had asked a question, part of his brain knowing it was better to have his arms free. Then, as his body felt the wetness and sent messages to his brain, Tim's eyes flashed open wide. And his face went beet red when Darryl's next remark "It's good to have a movable hanger" penetrated his consciousness.
As he part of his brain reacted, objecting, Tim shifted...but his brain received a strong flash message from his body as he shifted and got more input "he was so sweaty...he worked so hard...lifting that tree stump so powerfully...this is the result of that...man...thought I sweat a lot...I never sweat like this..." His mind again on overload, only part of Tim's brain heard Darryl's next statement.
"Those shorts were covered too, Timmy. Take them off now."
His independent thinking occupied with overwhelming sensory input, Tim responded automatically by removing the oversized, baggy shorts...and putting them on top of the t-shirt when he saw Darryl point. Then, in a flash part of his brain processed "wait...oh...ok...still have underwear on...and the t-shirt's long enough to cover."
Seeing Tim's mind working, Darryl gave him a moment to process, a slight smirk turning up one corner of his mouth. Time to put you in the deep end, little man.
Shifting just a bit and reaching down, Darryl said "Let me see..." as he lifted up the long t-shirt and looked at Tim's briefs covered butt. "You must have slipped in a wet spot, Timmy. These look like some of the dirt penetrated. Get `em off" Darryl ordered.
Frozen by the shock of the huge man already being inside his space, lifting the t-shirt and looking even before he could object, once again realizing the objection would be pointless since it was after the fact...his brain still absorbing the input from the t-shirt...Tim only dimly processed Darryl's instruction.
As his hands moved to comply, however, Tim hesitated, thinking "wait...this t-shirt's soaking wet...why does he care about my underwear being wet from the fall?" Then Tim's throat started to work "uh...wait...is it really that dirty?..."
Hearing Tim's objection, Darryl simply gave Tim's bottom a firm swat of instruction, his big hand covering much of both cheeks. "uhgghh," escaped from Tim's lips as his butt sent an flash message to his brain...knocking all other thoughts out as he bent over and removed the briefs in a flash.
After looking at Tim's pale little, mini-muscular butt cheeks as he obeyed, Darryl lowered the t-shirt down for Tim to feel that his modesty was preserved. Then shifted a bit...moving a little more in front of Tim. "Let's see...I've taken care to make sure the dirt stays contained so you won't have to clean it up," Darryl spoke as he lifted his right arm up and reached out to the shelf above the mirror, his arm higher than Tim's head, extending at an angle across Tim's line of sight.
"And I'm going to get you cleaned up for your next thing," Darryl continued as he lifted up and put back down slightly to the right an earthen vase, his bicep and triceps flexing in harmony with each other.
"In between there is one thing I need to do," declared Darryl.
Eyes locked in to the colossal muscle right in front of him, like a field mouse hypnotized by the eyes of a King Cobra, Tim could only utter "um...uh...what...what's that?"
"I'm going to make you feel good. Settled. Make you feel that everything's in its proper place. Do you want me to do that, little man?" said Darryl with a bit of encouragement, a lot of assurance, and unspoken demanding certainty.
"uh...yeah..." stuttered Tim as he nodded slightly, still spellbound.
"Tell me in words, little man. Tell me what you want," Darryl demanded.
"uh...oh...uh...I want...uh..." Tim stammered, his voice desperately trying to remember what Darryl had said, knowing deep inside himself that it was important, "I want you to put everything in its proper place."
As Tim was speaking, Darryl reached his left hand around to the back of Tim's head. As soon as Tim finished, Darryl's big hand made contact and started pushing Tim's head in to Darryl's right armpit.
Slowly...
steadily...
mesmorizingly...
"uh...no...wait..." Tim objected weakly, hands going up to hold himself clear. Left hand landing on Darryl's wide lat, right hand on the thick pec. Pushing into the unyielding slabs of muscle. To no effect. Tim's eyes got closer and closer to his next destination. Fingers white from the pressure he was exerting, Tim panted "no...no...not again" in a voice of resistance, confusion, and astonishment as his full effort had absolutely no impact on keeping his independence.
Until finally, eyes wider than ever before, Tim's face went in to Darryl's armpit.
Darryl's unrelenting pressure continued, pushing Tim's face deeper in to the cavity...like the lunar module slowly descending...
until finally...
touchdown.
Tim's nose pressed in to the hairy armpit...flat against the skin...so far in that when Tim began to utter his next feeble protest, his lips moved against the hair and skin of the overpowering man. "kgrughkg" gurgled Tim as his lips tasted the sweaty, salty, musky man who had eliminated all other options.
"That's what I do, Timmy," said Darryl assuredly, condescendingly, with complete assertiveness, "Put boys in their place."
Finally giving in to his desperate need, Tim took a long, deep breath, his attempt to hold out proving useless against Darryl's tireless strength. Slowly...deeply...as a penetrating calm filled him up way down inside, Tim heard the deep voice above him "And when a man asks to be put in his place, even better."
"rmgppg," rumbled Tim deep inside the cavern, his ears burning a bit as his primitive brain understood...that he had asked...that he had wanted to feel Darryl's power...and then, as he took another breath, the resistance was washed out by the overwhelming musk of the virile, masculine man. As he took more breaths, his lips somehow still moving a little against the skin and hair in his holding pen, Tim also responded non-verbally as his dick filled up with Darryl's aggressive musk. "ugguhgh," groaned Tim as the heavy, wet t-shirt put pressure on his now rock hard dick.
Shifting Tim's head slightly first up and down, the side to side, Darryl rumbled a deep bellow as he felt Tim's face servicing his armpit. "Have to renew my scent markings, don't I, little man?" Darryl stated in the form of a question, but Tim knew in his primitive brain the strong man was not asking. And he moaned again hearing Darryl's next comment "Can't wait to hear you offer your submission, Timmy. Asking me to give you what you need. Won't that be good, little man?"
Face, nose, lips smeared with Darryl's bull scent, steel hard dick covered by Darryl's sweat soaked t-shirt, hands rubbing granite slabs of muscle, Tim moaned again..."gmrmglgldldmfmfffffffff"
To Be Continued...