You know the drill: 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.
"WTF?" 02
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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With confidence and enthusiasm, Brad took the basement stairs two at a time, his strong arms on the railing, pulling his gym-bod up the stairway. Nearing the top he said out loud to himself, "Five gut-punches-what a breeze!"
Breeze is right, because he hauled himself up the last two steps, bust open the basement door, there waiting for him was Olav's fist!
Exactly the right level to catch Brad's abs, Olav's tightly clenched fist knuckled him deep, right above the bellyhole, Brad's voice reflecting it with a loud belch, "Hough-h-h-h-h-oh-h-h-h-h!"
Reacting as if he was barfing, holding his gut, Brad fell to both knees and such was the impact, he careened over onto his left side and then lay there in a huddle, moaning, coughing, trying to gasp for breaths of air.
"Hey, are you okay?" Olav asks, bending over. He didn't get an answer. Touching Brad's shoulder, giving him a little push, he inquires again, "I asked are you okay?"
The wind knocked out of him, reentering, steadying him somewhat, Brad answers, "What tha fuck you mean am I okay when you damn near broke my abs?" He meant rib, but this sufficed.
"I only wanted to prove to you something." And like this made everything copasetic between the two, Olav reaches a hand out, "C'mon. Let me help you up."
Rolling over to lying down flat on his back, Brad says, "Well I got something to prove to you buddy!"
It was Olav's turn, him caving to the garage floor after Brad's foot took his balls by surprise.
"Shit! What did you do Brad?"
"Yeah, Brad?" Aldo Pallardo seconded his friend, Jase's opinion, having just witnessed Brad's foot making impact!
"Hey, are you okay?" Jase asks Olav.
Usually when someone hurting, it helped mentally to soothe the wound. This being rocks between a guy's legs, both were reluctant to help in that respect.
Instead of words of sympathy for his wounds, his still aching gut, Brad received ridicule from the more outspoken of the two, Jase, "What tha fuck has gotten into you Brad?"
Coming out of his misery, Olav tried talking the two out of putting the blame on their friend, "Really, I'm okay fellas. No problem." He even joked as the two teens helped him to his feet, "Nothing's broken. I think I'll live."
Standing, Brad still lay there on the floor. It was obvious his two pals didn't catch Olav in the act of heaving his fist into his stomach and the two seeing it only one way, it was futile to say otherwise.
Jase followed behind Aldo, giving warning, "You better not cause any trouble for my dad, Brad!"
"When did I ever cause any trouble for your dad?"
Smirking, Jase replies, "Just don't, okay? He's paid a lot of loot for this party and you know my dad?"
Still reclined on the garage floor, Brad obliged, "Yeah, okay." Like lounging, he was stretched out on his left side, leaning on his elbow, his right hand hanging over his stomach, rubbing it gently.
"So, you want to get something to eat?" Olav asks, leaning against the back of his van.
"Not really," the eighteen year old says with attitude. "Besides, give me a reason why the fuck I would want to?"
Smiling, Olav replies, "Would going back to my place afterwards and giving you the best blowjob you ever had be reason enough?"
He already knew what Olav looked without the clothes, beefy pecs, taut abs and for the fact he was pushing thirty, he had more time in life to work himself up into a tower of muscle. Too, he was toting a nice brief-full. The downside had been their strange encounter, fine way of greeting somebody, the gut punch, but Brad felt vindicated, working over Olav's balls with his sneaker. Plus, this being a little out of the ordinary intrigued him. Too, he wasn't allowing Olav get away with the whole dirty dealing, "Okay, but you're paying for the food and if you want to give me a blowjob it's going to cost you a hundred bucks."
Dinner was inconsequential to Olav, the latter taking precedent, "A hundred bucks it is!"
"And a hundred bucks if you want to rim my ass," Brad said, holding his arms across is middle as he approached Olav, as a precaution.
"Shit!" Olav exclaimed. "How much to suck on each ballsac?"
"Fifty bucks a piece!"
"Anything else I should know before I commit myself?" Brad was taking Olav to the cleaners where his wallet was concerned, "Pits, each nip, fifty bucks and," here was the clincher, "If you want to kiss me it's five hundred bucks!"
Olav shrugged it off, "Oh, I thought you were going to say five hundred if I wanted to fuck you?" "Nobody fucks this ass, but if you want me to shove my salami up yours, it's on the house!"
"What? No charge? What a bargain!"
"It's `today's special'. Take it or leave it!"
For now Olav wasn't making any deals. In reality he had hoped Brad would be the one bottoming. He wasn't used to taking the orders, but things were working out differently this time around. And as strange as things go as the two climbed in the cab of the mock catering truck, Olav's mouth watered for teen meat.
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Both eighteen years old, Jase and Aldo sensed a new freedom, especially upon graduating from high school. Upon walking back from the garage, suddenly the backyard took on a new perspective.
"I like the blonde," Jase voice opinion.
"Which blonde?" Aldo asks, seeing two blonde waiters in their field of vision.
"The one offering champagne to the Smiths."
Aldo smiled because it was the same blond waiter he talked about. As fate has it, they hear from their left, "Hors d'oeuvres, gentlemen?"
With surprise the two shift their heads to their lefts.
Jase swings back to their original focus.
Aldo keeps his attention on the hor d'oeuvres, rather the person holding the tray, inquiring, "What is it?"
"Pigs in the blanket?" And suggestively, "They take little weiners and roll them up in dough. Really delicious. Would not be a problem taking one or two down your throat?"
"Really?" Also mellowed out.
He probably had seen the two standing there, gazing off afar, zeroing in on one or two in the distance. A college student, doing this for a little cash on the weekends, he sort of whistles to call Jase's attention, "Hey you there?"
Aldo calls Jase's attention to the waiter, "Hey Jase." "What?"
Instead of Aldo responding, the waiter says, "His name is Lance Hatch. He's a graduate student and if you're wondering.... yeah, he's into guys."
"How many guys?" Jase asks.
The waiter starts laughing his ass off, saying, "Good one!" After containing himself, "But Lance isn't like your usual fratboy. Keeps to himself. More the collegiate type."
"And why are you bothering to tell me this?" Jase asks him.
"Tell me something?" Aldo followed the conversation.
"Yeah?" Jase responded.
"Does your daddy know you're gay?"
"Mine doesn't," Aldo replies, "well he sorta doesn't. I think he knows but he's not saying. It's like he....."
Jase says, "Shut up Aldo!"
The waiter smiles after repeating, "Yeah, shut up Aldo."
Aldo smiles back, though he sticks his tongue out at Jase.
"Neither of my parents know I'm gay." "But they know you hang out with gay guys?"
"They know Brad is, but I don't think Aldo."
The waiter says, "Oh yeah, Brad, the one who drove away with the headhunter."
"Headhunter?" Jase replied, repeated by Aldo.
Even thought Jase was more interested now in finding his cell phone so he could call Brad, Aldo had his attention set on the helping waiter.
"My name's Aldo Pallardo," was his way of forcing an introduction his way.
"Aldo," he took Aldo's hand in his, "I'm Stephen Yacht and it's really good to meet you."
Right away Aldo thought this Stephen is being like overly cordial, so treads lightly on his thoughts. "Nice to meet you too. Um, like shouldn't you be circling the crowd?"
"Uh sure. Okay," Stephen replied, going about his business.
"Shit!" Aldo came down on himself because of realizing Stephen probably thought he wasn't interested.
"I got a hold of Brad on his cell. He says everything's hunky dory."
"I so wish you would stop using that word, Jase?"
"It's two words and what the fuck? I like using it and if I like using it I'm going to...."
"Shut up Jase?"
"What happened to the waiter?"
"He's waitering. I think I screwed up."
To Aldo, Jase says, "Already?"
"No, you idiot. We didn't do any of that stuff yet. What do think I am? Brad?"
Jase and Aldo were `green' tenderfoots compared to tales Brad has told about meeting guys and doing all kinds of stuff from having his ass licked, a tongue pressed so deep into his ass it was like the guy was fucking him, plus other stuff, even kinky stuff, like a guy wanting to be pissed on.
"Brad," Jase recalls, "if I ever get lucky enough, I'm going to do some of the stuff Brad does with a guy."
"Um, you're not going to piss on him, are you?" Aldo says, wrinkling up his nose.
"I might!" Jase says.
But then the two are sidetracked from conversing, "Hors d'oeuvres?"
This time is was Jase's turn to gloat, but he also slips and says as he takes a tidbit from the platter, "Thank you, Lance."
Smiling, the blond face with blue eyes stares at Jase, him saying, "I think everyone knows the guest of honor, but...."
Right away Aldo could see where this one-sided conversation was headed, so he went seeking out some more piggies in the blanket.
"Your friend. He told me." "My friend?" Lance peruses the crowd.
"On of your waiter friends. I didn't get his name." Then, seeing Aldo talking to the waiter-dude, "Him over there, where Aldo is talking to."
"Oh Stephen you mean?" Lance observes also, turning to view Stephen across the way and then right back at Jase, whom he found never left his face. He smiled.
Stephen covered some bases, but left a few for the asking, "So Stephen says your in grad school."
"Part time. In between scraping together the loot to finance it. So, what do you plan to pursue?"
"I know this sounds strange, growing up in the mountains, but I really have an interest in marine biology." "Oh really? Then we really need to get to know each other. My major is in marine biology."
"Really?" Jase jumped with excitement and with this in common he jumped to the next question, "You don't happen to have a boyfriend or a partner of anything?"
Suddenly, Lance's attitude sunk, but not for the reason Jase sought.
"You've got a boyfriend?"
For the most part throughout his life Lance was always up front with people. He wasn't going to lie, "No, I don't have a boyfriend, but.... you're what, eighteen years old?"
"Right. So? You don't like dating guys younger than yourself?"
From Jase's perspective, he saw his point and made him shutter, thinking this young guy didn't care, that it was him keeping things in the balance. "I don't have a problem with dating a younger guy," and too saying it made an impression upon himself, "I was just wondering how you felt about dating a twenty-five year old man?" `Dating!' Lance had to reflect on it. Here he came to make a few bucks waitering and he was talking to an eighteen year old, let alone the person whom this party was being given.
"Lance?" "Yeah?" "Do you want to have a date after the party is over?"
Lance smiled at the way Jase said it. "Why don't we wait until after the party is over to decide?"
"Oh. Okay," Jase said.
The way in which Jase said it, Lance had the impression none of this was going to come about, so he figured he needed to do something to cement their new friendship. "Alright if I kiss you?"
Hurriedly, Jase says, "No, no, no, no, no! That wouldn't be good! The `rent, they don't know I'm gay!"
"No problem then. I'll talk to you later," Lance said and then went about his business.
But Aldo, he was fucked! Found in a little niche off the side of the garden, he and Stephen were caught necking.
"Oh shit!" Jase said as he approached the confrontation, hearing his father gay-swear Aldo to damnation.
Aldo got kicked out of the party, but for Stephen, Jase's dad was on his boss' case, "I want this faggot off of my property this instant!"
"I don't want him to go," Jase tried defending.
"The man," Mr. McCormick slandered, "no wait. This is no man who goes after a young man and corrupts him!"
Looking around, Jase caught Lance's eye. He also saw Lance gesture, his right fist punching his left hand, which could be taken as different things. At first he thought Lance's fist was meant for his father's chin, but then he thought of it as a statement of treating the situation with an iron fist. Oh shit!' Jase thought to himself. A lot of things ran through his mind and now that he was graduating, being released out into the world, something made him blossom', his mind branch out and it was forcing him to pop of his shell. "Father!" he yelled out, seemingly at the top of his lungs.
"What?" McCormick said, followed by, "Stay out of this. I will handle it," he continued to talk with Stephen's boss, a stocky fellow.
"I want him to stay. I like him!"
McCormick directs to his son in an absurd manner, "What do you mean you like him?"
Too, Stephen hadn't a clue to where Jase was headed with this, other than, "You better stay out of this."
Still hot under the collar, McCormick warns Stephen, "You just keep quiet. No homosexual is going to go around telling my son what to do!"
He was almost in Stephen's face.
Looking behind the fracas, Jase again connects with Lance, returning the gesture, hand in palm and a small smile. Stepping between his father and Stephen, his back to his father, Jase wields up all the power within and says, "This is what I mean about liking Stephen!"
The five piece band had already ceased playing, but suddenly talking was next to nothing as all attention centered on Jase and Stephen, their lips pressed together. On Stephen's part he just stood there, his limbs to his side. It could clearly be seen, Jase's hand pulling on Stephen's shoestring, black tie, the force to keep their lips kissing. When Jase dropped back, he realized this was all done for his own benefit, coming out to his father and those others around.
"Sorry," he says to Stephen.
Even though he was out of a job which meant he wasn't going to get a cent for schleping hors d'oeuvres all over the backyard, he smiles, saying, "You're going to make somebody a nice kisser!"
From behind him Lance steps, saying, "I hope I'm going to be that lucky guy!"
But their rejoicing and congrats were cut short, Jase's father again ranting and raving, telling the owner of the catering firm he wanted them all out of there. Jase heard the whole thing, over at the garages, the caterer being forced to leave without getting paid. In retrospect, it was passed down, both Stephen and Lance getting the ax.
"No problem," Jase came up with the solution. Digging down into his pocket he brought out a wad of cash he collected from all the graduation cards.
"You can't do this," Lance said as Jase unfolded bills and counted them out on the hood of the truck.
Jase was really excited about coming out, so giving away all the cash earmarked for his college education was not an imposition. Of Lance's comment he says, "Hey, we're not married yet! I can do what I want with the money, honey!"
"He's sick!" Stephen says.
"Yeah," Lance smirks.
"Hey, anybody looking?"
It was Aldo, kicked out the front door only to return up the driveway!
Giggling, Jase greets his pal, "I kissed your boyfriend!"
Of course Aldo wanted to know, which prompted him to ask, "Does this mean I get to kiss your boyfriend?"
"What tha fuck!" Lance said, kidnapping Aldo for a smooch. When he was done, he joked, "I hope you're a better kisser than that, Jase!" Lance made like wiping his mouth off.
Aldo's answer was, "Fuck you!"
Stephen jokes, "Oh no you don't!"
It went unsaid and neither of the quartet would know which way things would go until that first night of being bedded down!
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Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee
`WTF?' 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.....