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?" 03
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Who is that talking to you in the background, Brad?"
Finding out it was Olav, the dude Brad knee'd in the balls in his garage yesterday, Jase says of what's been explained so far, "After you hit him between the legs, he's crazy enough to let you in his bed?"
Then, through the transmission of his cell phone Jase hears, When are you coming back to bed, Brad?', Brad replying, "When I feel like it! I'm talking to my friend, so shut the fuck up!" Of course Brad was feeling' like it soon, standing there in the raw, one hand with his cell phone to his ear, the other playing up his cock and balls. "So, what did your `rents say when you kissed the waiter-dude?"
"My dad was livid. He as much accused the whole catering service as being gay and you know what that means?" Brad replies, "Yeah, like waging Jihad. So, did his Christian buddies gang up on them?"
"I think they were more shocked. I'm sure they would have stood up for my father, but there wasn't a need. By then the party pretty much was over, so they packed it in," Jase reports. "I covered his ass with the bill."
Another thing for Brad to rant about, even though his hand was carrying quite a load by now, seeing Olav in the bed, fully outstretched, hands behind his head in a relaxed position. Last night his cock had first taste dof the Russian's ass and now the eighteen year old was working up to another hundred bucks, plus tip. "And what about that Lance-dude?"
"Not much. He has my cell number, said he'd give me a call sometime," Jase subtly replies.
"After he egged you on about kissing the waiter?" A little more into his friend's problem, having turned away from Olav, "What tha fuck is that?"
Wanting it very much, Jase replies, "It's like...." he sees the time right on his cell phone, "...only eight o'clock in the morning. I'm sure he'll call."
Brad reacts, "Yeah, right! He's probably like me, in it for whatever he can get out of you," meaning the almighty dollar.
"He's not like that!" Jase contradicts.
Thinking he's right and his friend, wrong, Brad makes excuse, "Okay, well, Olav is waiting for me to shove my dick up his ass... I gotta go."
It seemed always the case, Brad's way of saying `goodbye', saying he had to shove his cock in a guy's ass, leaving dead silence in place of a formal departing word.
"Yeah right, Brad," Jase said, tabbing his phone off, but left in his mind was doubt, Jase wishing Brad's thoughts about Lance untrue. Walking around his room with his cell phone in his hand for five minutes, made him frustrated.
Then it came, not exactly what he hoped for, his father calling up the stairs, "You want to come down here son? Your mother and I want to talk with you?"
For certain he didn't want Lance calling in the middle of a conversation with his parents, but he didn't want to miss his call. Some things took precedence, so he would just have to call Lance back.
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"So, my ass feels real agreeable to you?"
Brad replies, as he kneels on the bed, his shaft firmly planting in Olav's ass, "Just another ass, just another hundred bucks. Whatever the customer wants, the customer gets!"
He continues to pump away furiously, Olav showing no regrets he's paying big bucks to have his ass reamed, but he was hoping by paycheck time things could be perceived as differently. "You don't feel anything else?"
Brad replies, "Other than drilling deeper than the first time, should I?" Sure, it felt awesome, having Brad's 9.5c plow him up the middle, but some of the lackluster from last night had worn off. Originally, when they romantically stripped each other, kissed, him sucking up Brad's tube, it seemed they were headed in more of a direction than a prearranged sexual contracting.
After Brad came, sending his wad deep into Olav's canal work, he turned over on the bed, lying there on his back, trying to regain his composure.
In the meantime, Olav had lost all fervor or anything along the lines of an affair developing. Out of bed, he searched for his pants, taking his wallet out. Kneeling back on the bed, he towered over Brad's outstretched bod, peeling bills off.
"Let's see that's fifty bucks for each ball sac," he tosses one, then the other on Brad's wet-haired abs, "a fifty for sucking on each nip," two more fifties hit Brad, mid-chest, "a hundred for each fuck, that's two hundreds," tossed on his pubes, which are quickly stolen away, lest they get slimed, "and tip?"
"Yeah?" Brad looks up, the other money collected in one hand.
"Here's your fuckin' tip!"
Worse than coming up the basement stairs, lying down, when Olav's fist caught him in the abs, Brad's bod rolled over, away from Olav and kept going till he fell off the bed on all fours. "Oh shit, Olav! What tha fuck was that for?"
Crawling across the bed on his knees, Olav looks over the edge of the bed, a smile on his face, "I think you took that rather well, Brad."
"Fuck you!" Brad replies, getting up and looking for his clothes.
"Got enough money for college yet?"
They covered that last night, Olav already knowing the answer to the question.
Relaxing on the bed, watching Brad get himself together, he says, "A hundred bucks to fuck a guy is nickel'n'dime stuff!"
"I know your game Olav. I'm not getting paid to take have my abs turned to mush!"
Calmly, Olav suggests, "Who said you had to take' anything? Did you know it is very tough to find a guy on the giving' end?"
"I'm not a sadist, if that's what you're thinking?"
"Nobody said you had to be. You have a client whom is paying you and you're fulfilling your part of the contract. It's as simple as that, Brad!"
By now Brad was dressed, pulling on his socks and tending to his sneakers, him telling it as he saw it, "So, what you're saying is instead of some guy paying to work me over, you want me to work some other guy over?"
"And get paid, paid very well for it. No more dimes'n'quarters."
Brad says, not out of jest, but more of buying time, "I thought you said nickels'n'dimes?"
"My opinion?"
Brad replies as Olav's nude bod stands there before him, "Like I'm gonna stop ya?"
Leaning over, resting his hands on the arms of the chair, caging Brad in, Olav says, "You could've been out that door, dressed or undressed a half hour ago, Brad or maybe it was just too good to pass up a business proposition?"
Still tossing around the idea, as Olav mentioned, maybe a business deal too good to pass up, Brad asks, "Do I have to like sign on the dotted line?"
"No, but before you are even considered you need to go meet the man in charge?"
"I thought `you' were in charge?" Brad asks.
Cooly, Olav says, "Why don't you go downstairs and make yourself some breakfast while I make some arrangements for us today. I take it, being Sunday, you don't have any plans?"
"Church," Brad jokes, "but I can skip out!"
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It was too overwhelming for Jase, his father coming at him from one angle, his mother on the other side, the two of them going at it, telling him of his sinful nature, how badly he behaved and the worst two parts, having to go up in front of the whole church this morning and asking them and God for the forgiveness of his blasphemous sin.
Not sure what to do, Jase made amends by saying he would do it, but in the recess of his mind he knew it wasn't the right thing to do. It was what `they' wanted him to do, not his gut feeling, especially after rethinking Lance and his go get'em attitude yesterday. Back in his room, since he didn't have Lance's number to call him, decided on his best friend.
When Brad's cell started ringing he was munching on toast, drinking orange juice right from the contained. Too, it was kind of hot in the kitchen, so he took the front of his tee shirt and anchored it behind his neck. Good thing, because as he tabbed on his phone, upon it chiming, he was taking a swig of juice and it waterfalled down his chest and stomach. "Oh shit! No, not you Jase!" he exclaimed. "I just poured OJ down my chest... no, not on purpose, stoopid!"
There was a lull on Brad's side, Jase telling him all, in a nutshell.
"That's cool!"
"Cool?" Jase questions. "Cool I have to act like a stupid fuck in front of the whole congregation?"
Brad comes up with the coolest idea, "Nope. When you get up there to tell them you've sinned, instead tell you like to fuck around with guys."
"Yeah," Jase tells with sarcasm, "then when I get home they'll kick me out!"
Thinking on his own plight, Brad says, "Then you'll see how `the other half' lives!"
"Yeah, sure Brad," Jase says, knowing exactly what he means.
It's at that moment Brad tells of how the honey pot is about to get sweeter.
"You're going to make money beating guys up?"
"Could be the other way around," As he's already considered. In conclusion, "I dunno. I have to see what it's about, but I gotta go."
Brad had heard Olav on the stairs, so left his signature, an instant disconnect.
Jase had to think on this. He thought, if he followed through with Brad's plan, which sounded very daring, but exciting.... then his cell rang up again. At first he thought it was Brad, but then `Lance' sounded in his mind and he hurried to answer.
Lance it was and he apologized for not getting back, that he had to work late.
Figuring it could be that way, all that clean up once they got back to the catering service. Other than that, his mind still on his own problem, Jase left it rest on Lance's ears, after telling him what happened.
Coming up with a more diplomatic solution, Lance suggested keeping his parents happy, then doing what he needed to do. With graduation, he would be going off to college and then he could begin life anew.
Frankly, Jase was a little disappointed and he let Lance know, "What happened to the fight that was in you yesterday?"
"Yesterday, the only thought I had in my mind was victory for you taking a stand and coming out."
"It sounds like you are contradicting yourself, Lance?"
In a way he was, but at the same time was trying to make this transition in Jase's life as smooth and painless as possible. `Painless' he thought to himself, upon thinking it, upon saying it, "I'm thinking of a way of making this as smooth and painless as possible."
Too, as Jase remained silent, thinking about it, Lance was dwelling on quite a different matter, one which he was afraid to bring up to people, because usually people didn't understand and when the subject hit the surface he wound up drowning in unfound accusations.
"What else?" Jase asks, perceiving Lance in deep thought.
"Oh nothing." Right now Lance remained `mum'.
"I really don't want to get up there and lie, not that I mind lying, it's just that...."Jase stuttered his last few words.
"I know. You feel like you've taken a step forwards and now your running backwards?"
"Exactly!" Jase agreed. He then `did a Brad', said, "I gotta think about this some more," and pressed his phone off.
After hanging up, Jase paced the floor of his room, back and forth, till his father knocked, announced himself as he cracked it open, "We're all set to go son, right?"
"Yeah, I'm okay dad."
However, Jase wasn't okay. After his dad left, he figured he better get ready for church, ready to be submitted to humiliation, to... then he looked at his bare bod in the mirror of the jon. He thought out loud, like he was a minister on the pulpit, "How can a man with such a beautiful bod, deny who he really is and really wants to be?" Closing his eyes, Jase touched both hands to his abs, crawled up his bod with them, slid over his pecs, remained stationery long enough to thumb his nips and run them around the small circles of hair. One hand slid down his bod as the other touched upon the small patch of hair in the middle of his chest. After sampling his teen treasure trail, Jase felt up his manhood. As he stood there, his eyes closed, in a soft, cooing tone he again speaks to himself, "How can something that feels so good, be so wrong?"
Opening his eyes, looking down, not that he didn't already feel it, he was hard.
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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.....