WTF?

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?" 09 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee

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"Why do I feel like this place is really the `Twilight Zone'?"

Logan walked right inside his residence.

Once indoors, Brad took the liberty of stepping out, scanning the rundown face of the dilapidated cottage, then returning to the pristine, deco-moderne interior.

"Drink? Something to eat?" Logan inquires, walking into the center of the open-air kitchen. "What's your pleasure Brad?"

Accepting a glass of `something', Brad sniffs the drink and replies, "Your last question, that multiple-choice?"

"I'm really up for some pizza," Logan says.

"Oh really?" Brad replies. "I thought maybe some salami?"

Logan smiles, opens the fridge door and pulls out a round, metal pan, covered with plastic wrap, saying, "I'm not like the other mindless dudes who roam the pool."

"Or the dungeon?"

Trying to impress a serious matter, Logan tells him, "Believe it or not there are some of us here, hired to do a job which does not involve sex?"

"Oh sure. I see," Brad replies with a touch of sarcasm. "That's why you came to fetch me, in the buff no less and lead me off to your private lair?"

"Believe it or not, you're here on business."

Already knowing one of Logan's catch phrases, he uses it to his own advantages, "Believe it or not, huh?"

"Master Denji has put you under my guidance."

"Sorry," Brad jokes, "but I already know all about the birds and the bees!"

"But not the `flowers and the trees'?"

"You're a poet?" Brad replies.

And one step ahead of him, Logan ponders, "Hmm... and I didn't even know it!"

Cutting the humor, Brad folds his arms across his middle and leans on the kitchen island, "Okay, so what are you going to `guide' me in?"

"Master Denji has informed me you have an interest in horticulture and you may be interested in majoring in a like field." Logan turns his back to place two slices of pizza in the over.

Bending over, his back facing Brad, Brad smiles, thinking how sweet that hairy ass is. So as not to be snagged for doing so, he makes like he is helping himself to a slice of cold pizza

"Ewe! Cold?" Logan says.

"I'm just kind of hungry and couldn't wait," Brad stuffs a piece of rolled up bread, cheese and sauce into his mouth.

"Hungry for anything else?" Logan asks, as if insinuating something.

Brad could have replied either way, seriously or in a kidding manner, but chose to change subjects, "So, what were you saying about teaching me something?"

Logan dove into some textbook vocabulary, talking about the earth and plants.

Brad edges around the side of the table and with standing inches apart from the muscle-bear, he replies, "When do we get to the part about reproduction?"

"I told you Brad. I'm not...."

Silencing him real quick, Brad backed Logan up to the refrigerator, closing off his mouth with his, hands reacting to how he was feeling.

Back at the house, at the spa pool, Logan swore off doing anything rash, but things had turned fast, from rash to irrational and swearing off his intentions he gave in, winding his arms in between Brad's limbs and bod, caressing, their chests, stomachs, pubes, mashing together.

"Nice," Brad said, parting lips.

Logan had his doubts, "The kiss, or..."

Brad controlled their cocks, Logan winning out second, his hand juggling balls.

"Yeah. Feels real nice," Brad replied with a smile. "Could be nicer?"

"Yeah," Logan replies, smiling, "could be much nicer!"

In the past, for the right price and it had to be a generous amount, Brad would stoop to having his ass probed, but right now he felt like being stubborn.

Agreeing, on the niceness, Brad says, "It always feels better, wetter?"

"Ah, so we're getting back to the poetry?"

They were, both beating evading the issue, most likely because they held the top honors when seeking man-to-man action, half of the man-equation, looking down upon themselves, up at the guy doing the tongue-worshipping.

Like he had to spell it out, Brad says, "Yeah. The poetry of your fork for my steak?"

"Shovel for your goldmine?"

The two went back and forth at each other, words for ammunition to describe either tantalizing a tender shaft or seasoning one or the other's hole in the wall.

"We're pathetic!" Brad finally concludes, then jumps quick to rebuttal, "You've never taken it up the ass before, so how would you know it doesn't feel good, Logan?"

"Touche!" Logan bounces back with, fully engaged with a sworded tongue.

Briefly thinking about it, Brad's statement too, applying to himself, he says, "Oh yeah. I guess what's good for the goose is.... how does that go?"

Logan replies, "I don't know. Is that from `Mother Goose'?" He let's out a giggle.

"Who cares? I got an idea."

Listening, lying the length of the bed, clothes totally dismantled from his bod, Logan presses Brad in the belly with a fingertip, both words and action showing exclamation, "What?"

"What d'ya think I am? A voodoo doll?" Brad does the same, but two fingers. He adds, "Oh man. You're hard there," he continues to test Logan's taut abs.

Smiling, Logan replies, "I `could' be hard someplace else?" And then, as Brad has pulled on him already, "So, have you ever been fucked?"

"I asked you first."

"I asked you second!"

With lips tightly pressed together, Brad hesitated, then spoke truthfully, "Only a coupla times, but only because it was good money."

Skipping over whatever else Brad did to scrounge out a living, Logan asks as his finger teases Brad's treasure trail, "Like how much did you make," he loops his finger around the bellyhole, "all together?"

It was a beginning for reconciliation.

"Oh I have no idea. Last time I looked online at my account there was about fourteen thousand in there."

"Dayam!" Logan says, pushing up from the bed and looking at Brad.

Thinking it a response to the amount he cashed in on selling man-sex, Brad replies, "Yup."

However, Brad was wrong, Logan making him fall over onto his back.

Logan then totally admits, "Once upon a time I was considered a hot cocksucker?" Logan, as if asking permission, laughs.

"Like how long ago, upon a time?" Brad replies, placing his palms behind his ears, getting comfortable, his actions speaking more than words ever could.

Laughing a short spell, Logan says, "College dude, around your age... damn well tricked me, just like you're doing now!"

Brad knew there was no trickery involved, but let it fly, saying in a snotty way, "And you better do a good job or else I'll get one of Master Denji's torture-top's after you!"

With a cute smile on his face, as he looked down upon Brad, Logan replies, "I'd rather have it be you!"

Detecting something gone awry here, Brad questions, "I don't get it."

"Get what?" Logan replies, knowing this a baited question, especially when he knew he could explain where Brad was headed.

"What the fuck do you have, a doctorate in plantology or something?"

Laughing, because he thought Brad was being cute, Logan says, "Post-doctorate in ecoscience. I spent a year on the Amazon working with another doctor in the development of new methodologies to study vegetation phenology, specifically those of herbs and then, zipped up to the Pacific Northwest to do some salmon research in British Columbia."

Figuring it would wow the socks off Brad, it did, "Cool! That sounds so awesome. Did you like do some surfing while you were in South America?"

Smirking, Logan replies, "No. There wasn't anything to generate big waves on the Amazon except a passing boat."

"Oh," Brad replies, a toothless grin on his face.

"If it'll make you happy, I've got an old surfboard out in the shed?"

"Maybe later, but tell me...."

Knowing this a loaded question, Logan simply replies, "What?"

"Can you think of another way to make me happy?"

This time there was a grin attached, Logan shaking his head.

In the next couple of hours Brad experienced nothing short of `heaven'. Several times he lauded praises on Logan, amazed at good a man could make another man's cock feel so fuckin' good. Too, this was an ongoing reaction, because in the in between times there Logan traveled more than in South America, tonguing Brad's bod from his pubic hair, to his lips, and back.

Then somethings things went east to west, Logan kindly asking, "Would you terribly mind turning over so I can tongue-tickle your ass?"

Hazily awake, Brad did a slow bod turn, falling over onto his stomach.

"Um, would you mind raising your ass?"

"For what purpose?" Brad comes back abruptly.

Logan, knowing Brad is thinking a little along the lines, of getting in some cock-pumping action, states, "Not what you think, okay?"

As soon as Logan's tongue breached the point of no return, Brad knew he could trust him. Though, as Brad, ass in the air, shoulders to the mattress, he saw between his own legs, his hard shaft and big balls. It's not what he wanted to view, so one-handed, moved his own anatomy aside to get a clear picture of Logan's hairy endowment. "Having fun?"

Immediately the wet-rimming stopped, Logan answering, "Why? I'm not allowed to?"

With preference, to Logan working over the front of his bod, Brad flips over and jokes, "I didn't know we were playing fantasy games here!"

Giving Brad a choice, Logan says, "I'm game if you are. We can do it right here or take a hike down to the dungeon. There's some neat restraining apparatus specifically made to hold a man's ass in place, while `the master' has his sensual fun?"

"Isn't all that dungeon stuff a lot of work?"

Logan says, "Yes and it all heats up to a hot time!"

Brad, stirred with curiosity, for the moment was appeased with lying there and having Logan do all the work, replying, "Maybe some other time," furthering, "maybe when the gang gets together," he laughs.

Sitting there on his knees, prior to getting back to his tonguing and sucking work, Logan tells Brad, "Well, it just so happens the gang should be assembling right now for a night of fun!"

A lightbulb flickering on in Brad's head, he sits up on his elbows, asking, "Gang getting together? Who? What tha fuck are they going to be doing?"

Sitting back on his ankles, Logan replies, as he plays with himself, toying with one nip, the other hand keeping his nuts vibrating, "The usual. Pairing off, masters and slaves and then getting started."

Wanting it spelled out to him, Brad asks, "Getting started doing what?"

"All things masters like doing to their slaves and all things slaves like masters doing to them!"

"Thanks for the details `Mr. post-doctorate'!"

Going `tech', Logan replies, "Nothing like finding out through some field studies?"

Thinking he's on the same page, Brad replies, "If you want to go to the dungeon party, then you should come right out and say it?"

Ceasing playing with his nip and nuts, Logan says, "I resent that! For your information, maybe I know a thing or two about these fantasy dungeon parties, but I've never been to one?"

"Then how do you know what kind of apparatus they have for holding a man's ass in place to get raped?"

Logan formulates, "A scientist is curious and that's how he develops theories. In order to prove them there is experimentation. I have done some exploring on my own?"

Accepting it, Brad asks, "Who all is going to be there besides Jose and the other boys?"

Singling him out, Logan uses as a reference, "Jose. Is he going to need some major downtime."

"Why?" Brad asks with concern.

Acting like he was holding back on info, Logan comes up with, "Because the man whom has contracted to play with Jose for the next four hours is none other than Alexei Dubnikov?"

"Who?"

Well-knowing Brad's perplexity, Logan slips down onto his stomach, wraps his arms around Brad's thighs and readies to dig in for another meal, "Dubnikov is like every man who is into some extreme bdsm, their ultimate challenge."

Holding up Logan's progress, Brad slips a hand in between, sealing his meat off from Logan's lips, asking, "Like what do you mean by `extreme'?"

Seeing he wasn't going to get what he wants, until Brad gets what he wants, Logan resumes his tall posture, informing, "Jose is not doing anything which is against his own will?"

"Oh, I know that much," Brad replies, though is not fully aware of what can make or break Jose.

"He's done a lot to work himself up to this moment."

"It would seem," Brad says, going on what he's known Jose to allow himself to become a willing victim for, the gut punching, whipping, nip and cock and ball torture, "but how much can a guy take?"

"Jose is not the only one prepared for this. In bdsm circles, it is already known of Alexei Dubnikov's finely crafted skills."

Understanding it from one man's perspective, it still leaves question in Brad's mind, "Okay, so I know Jose likes pain and it's what he's probably looking for with this Russian dude. So other than to see a man squirm, like a fish on a hook, what's the turn on?"

Sensing something here, the ability of Brad to think logically, beyond what the obvious issue may be, Brad replies, "It has taken Jose time to build up his stamina, his will to accept pain, but for Dubnikov, it has also been a test of time, seeing how much a man can take, using techniques of torture to bring a man to the edge."

"Edge, meaning?" There's only `one edge' running through Brad's mind, the one where a guy is brought to the brink of shooting his load, then backed off.

Perceiving the same, but more, Logan says, "Yeah. That and the euphoria brought about by the mental link from man to man."

"This is a lot to digest you know?"

Logan smiles, wishing he had something else to digest. Bringing Brad to his cottage he wasn't sure how things were going to wind up. Now, he was totally in submission to Brad, given in to whatever made the teen happily pleasured.

"So?" Brad asks, not getting anything concrete in return for his inquiry.

"You're a man of logic, right?"

Thrown a curve, Brad tread lightly, "Um, yeah. So?"

Backing off of the bed, Logan says, "I think the only true way to explain all this, would be to experience it in the field?"

Logan standing there, all Brad could dwell on now is the hot physique. However, the six foot, muscular twenty-five year old, hairy chest and stripe adorning his front wasn't enough at the moment, him replying, "If you think so?"

Vague was the feeling Logan got, Brad not fully understanding what he was asking him to do. Prompting him again, "Do you want to go have a look?"

Using his fisted hands to push himself along the bed, to where Logan stood at the foot, Brad asks, "Maybe I'll never have the opportunity again to see for myself."

When he bounced off the foot of the bed, his chest slightly bumped into Logan's, their lips inches apart.

"Was this part of your plan?"

"Plan?" Logan questions.

"You standing here, so when I jump up from the bed our lips are in distance for you wanting to kiss me?"

Placing aside their touchy-feeling scene, with intent for one to orally make the other feel awesome, Logan starts up a natural response, his hands touching Brad between the arms and abs. Hands dropping to Brad's glutes, he presses their bods together.

Lips being forced together, Brad looks upon this as more a relaxed, uninhibited form of expression. Unlike turning a trick, this was something more spontaneous, brought about by not only himself, but a warm feeling of his love-making partner.

It didn't take long to sort out their feelings somewhat, the two drawing to conclusion they meant more to each other right now than an occasional romp in the sheets.

As they descended the superficial stairway to where the dungeon was located, Logan says, "Now remember, anytime you feel the urge to leave, you let me know and we're out of here!"

Brad had already accepted it, feeling it would not as much disappoint himself, but the trusting judgement of Logan. No, he was going to give this a fair response.

As they walk into the dungeon, the first thing heard, and Brad knew these inflections, vocal renderings of the male, or in this case, a group of men, moaning and groaning. Fuel for their ministrations, Brad knew the protocol, a guy suffering under the hand, or concrete tool of torture, all for the benefit of the one pitching, as well as the receiver. Not walking, running, Brad is standing in front of Jose in a flash. "What tha fuck?" he calls out. Secondary, he scans Jose's bod from top to bottom, stopping at the `necktie' around Jose's balls. Knowing Jose was into this stuff, Brad does show concern, "You okay Jose?"

Jose doesn't yield an answer. How could he, maybe even not have heard Brad's voice, with the black mask around his head. .

"He will only speak if I allow him to speak!"

The voice wasn't that of a Russian-speaking man, more plain ole American English from someone living in say, metro area of the country and going on what Logan has told him, asks, "Who the hell are you?"

Stopping, with the weight in one hand, his abs flexed to compensate for the lifting of the ball-torturing device, he says, after eyeing Brad from head to `head', "Who the hell are you?"

With checkmate in place, it's Logan who breaks the ice, "This isn't' the Dubnikov I had in mind, but as it turns out, Mark's father could not make it, so sent his evil' son in his place."

Mark says nastily to Logan, "I could have Jose taken down and you strung up in his place?"

Logan didn't take kindly to this at all, thinking foremost he didn't feel like having his balls sag to the floor.

Before he could get a word in, Brad sticks his foot in the door, "Time out muscles'," Brad makes the T-sign with hands, almost in the blond's face, and stating his own rule, "if you want to talk to my' boy, then you'll have to ask `my' permission!"

There were other goings-on in the dungeon, the brick, stone and mortar landscape, dotted with familiar dungeon toys and furniture. However, with the confrontation with Master Denji's most influential client, the one who pays the most, the other roleplayers relax and circle around the ensuing moment.

Calling Brad's bluff, because if a master was in the dungeon with his slave' for the evening, the purpose would be for the master' torturing his slave'. Too, unbeknownst to Brad, as the rules went, there were masters, unassigned for the evening, waiting around for a boy' to happen by. Tonight, the dungeon was utilized for the regular `master-boy' roleplaying, but also those found from the internet, those seeking roleplaying the dominant role, others the submissive.

"Hmm, looks like a nice piece of meat!"

Apparently, it hadn't been made clear Logan was with Brad.

"Looks like he could be fun!"

Two `bear-type' characters had taken to inspecting Logan, one grabbing up both ball sacs in one hand and squeezing.

"Ak-k-k-k! Oh shit!" Logan cried out.

"What tha fuck!" Brad came to his rescue, cursing the two bears out, "Fuck off! He's mine!"

"Oh yeah?" One of the hairy men approaches Brad, "Where's your ticket?"

`Ticket?' Brad thought, seeing one in the fingertips of the hairy-covered chub, a stub with a number on it, like you would get at an amusement park, placed right in his face. One thing he knew about these dungeon-parties, either you ruled or were ruled. Too, over the bear's shoulder he saw Logan smirk, as the other bear held him in a full nelson. Not sure what it meant, he went on his own validity, forming a fist and pulling back an elbow as he announces, "Here's my ticket, bitch!"

Logan couldn't help but laugh, the bear on the floor, both hands holding his wounded crotch. He would have bounced back, in Brad's defense, when the other bear releases him from his arms braced out above his head, but they hurt.

"Why you...." the other bear started at Brad.

Not paying attention, but to the bear his fist did damage to, he was caught off guard.

However, to his amazement he had an ally, Mark Dubnikov stepping in, saying, "Not so fast bastard!"

The bear dude was not only muscular and hairy, but about two inches taller than Dubnikov's six foot height.

After subduing the muscle-bear, a knee to the crotch, Brad leaned an elbow atop Mark's shoulder and with a friendly attitude, as the two look upon the caved in bears, "Need any help?"

From the rigid, totally macho facade, Mark turns his head, and with total sincerity says, "Wanna fuck me?"

Stepping back, Brad was quite surprised, though, like everything went in this fairytale world, he knew his first impression is what made or broke a man, so keeps up the playacting, "Depends."

"On?" Mark replies.

"If you're as good a cocksucker as Logan here?"

Walking over to Logan, Brad thought something sinister was on Mark's mind, but it turns out, he was accepting the wager, saying to Logan, "You're on!"

As for the bears, who complained to Kenji, things worked out, them being allowed to use Jose for the evening. Come to find out, they were looking for a willing victim to do some two-on-one wrestling.

Thinking it an unworthy place for a wrestling of tongues, Brad, Logan and Mark retreated to the upstairs bedroom.

Both Logan and Brad were whacked out of their gourds, Mark incessantly talking about himself being abused, giving them carte blanche to do whatever they wanted.

Brad joked, "Yeah, what-tha-fuck, maybe I'll do to your balls what you planned on doing to Jose!"

He laughed, but Mark was serious, saying, "Sure. Whatever turns you on."

"You know what would turn me on?" Logan asks as he and Mark stand there, Brad crashing into the mattress.

"What?" Brad asks, looking up at the two.

Turning to Mark, Logan says, "Double-fucking Mark's ass?"

He wasn't sure how this was going to go. At first Mark thought it would be himself and Logan slaving over Brad's cock, balls, nips, pits, ass, wherever, but now seeing things change into a different light, he revises his own role, "Yeah. Cool," the nineteen year old says, "you two guys on me. I've never done it, but I could try fitting both cocks in my mouth?"

Neither has Brad, nor Logan, but Brad says something totally off the wall, "I suppose it would be kind of tough for your tongue to be in both our asses at once!"

He laughs.

Logan gets a few stabs of laughter out of it.

"No," Mark says, "however there is a way to service `two' asses. I saw it happen once during an orgy."

Now curiosity had settled on Logan and Brad's minds.

"Oh?" Brad, the leader of the pack, says. "How would that go?"

"Depends on who wants to get fucked?"

Logan and Brad look at each other, Logan asking, "How do you want the one getting fucked?"

As it went, Brad and Logan took orders for the moment, Mark setting it all up.

Before long, Mark had Logan lie on his stomach, faced down on the bed, he mentions, "By the way Logan, I think all this is hot!"

They exchanged smiles after Mark rubs his hand across Logan's furry chest, the back of his hand sliding down the hairy trail.

"Thanks," Logan replies with a smile of gratitude. Tit for tat, he states, of Mark's smooth chest, "I hope maybe sometime I get to taste those rosy-pink nips?"

"Okay!" Brad claps his hands together, creating a loud crack. "Can we stop with the show'n'tell and get it on before my wand loses its magic power?"

All this time, while Mark and Logan have had their chit-chat, Brad has been keeping his hard shaft lukewarm. With that said, Mark continues, telling Logan to get faced down and spread'em!

"Now, you on top, Brad?"

Leaning on Logan's shoulder blades, Brad slowly sank into the abyss below him.

"Oh! Ooh! Ah-h-h-h!" Logan reacts.

"Make up your mind," Brad teases, feeling the brunt of the pleasuring, his cock going from cold, to cool, to quite heated. Then to Logan, he feels Logan's ass pressured against his pubes.

"Hmm," Mark thinks, left palm under his right elbow, tapping fingers on his lips, "should I work my way from bottom to top, or top to bottom?"

"Who the fuck cares?" Brad is quick to render. "Just get your tongue fuckin' busy!"

In essence, Brad was the one who experiences more of a pleasuring, by not only his and Logan's asses being tongue-fucked, but a tonguing of the under side of his balls, enhancing the slow in and outs of his slimy tube being fed inwards and retreating.

If Logan thought he was going to come out on top, he had another thing coming. Exercising his right to being master of the two, Brad, speeding up the fucking action, coming close, orders Mark to plug the `other end'. Together they filled Logan with their manseed.

"What about me? I didn't come?"

"You're such a wimp, Logan!" Brad called it, but being guy-in-charge and feeling pity for Logan's tall stalk, was a good sport and watched as he fucked Mark.

Then, as luck would have it, by the time Logan had worked his cock up in a frenzy, Brad was all ready for another go around, Mark becoming the one to swallow.

With all the man-sex out of the way, the three retire to the hot tub.

"There were a lot of firsts for me today," Mark says.

"Like?" Logan asks, which was on the tip of Brad's tongue as well.

"Getting fucked and throating cock?"

"Really?" Brad replies, kinking his head to the side because his neck ached.

Gravitating towards Brad, Logan slid behind him, Brad sitting on his lap.

"I hope this is a therapeutic move, Logan?"

Logan replies, "Of course. What do you think, Brad?"

Mark smiles, mentioning, "Penetration?"

As Logan finger-massaged Brad's neck, Brad inquires, "So what's all this hype about your old man and how come you're not into torturing guys like he is?"

A good part of twenty minutes, Mark elaborated on what growing up was like, with only a father figure in his life and the leash kept loose on the bounds of his life. With money a fulcrum in his life, he was able to travel with his father and take in much of the sights of Europe, the Middle East, Asia and Australia.

"He was not always into bdsm."

Brad, too much subdued, Logan asks, "Oh really. I thought it was a lifelong passion with him."

"No. His fascination with it began with a trip to Germany. From his first taste of it, father sought out other places, often a leather club. Soon, every place he traveled on business, myself accompanying, he would always scope out a place to craft his hobby."

"And took you along?" Brad asks.

"No. I wasn't old enough. They wouldn't allow a sixteen year old kid in a club."

"Oh," Brad replied. "That's what I was wondering."

Another token, Logan asks, "And what did you do while your father had `his' fun?"

Smiling, Mark replies, "Got on my laptop, found some local guy who was lonely like me, had him up to my hotel room. We played some video games and I ordered us up some pizza. Sometimes the guy was older than me and we even had a nice time."

"I can imagine," Logan says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Mark tells, "On one trip to Dubai, there was this old guy, twenty-eight and..."

Brad exclaims, "And you were sixteen?"

"No, actually I was almost eighteen. Anyway, he came up to my hotel room and we played games for awhile, ate some pizza and... then my father happened to return early."

"Uh-oh," Logan says.

"I guess it could have turned out the way you expected," Mark continues, "except my father and Amir hit it off rather well. He got out his toolbox, tied Amir to the bed and had fun torturing him. Amir found a new calling and as he messaged me one time, says he makes good money hiring his bod out."

"Thanks," Brad says sarcastically, "but I'll earn my living the old-fashioned way!"

Because he was feeling great, Brad allowed his bod to float and soon it had become obvious, something poking out of the tub water.

"Not again!" Logan makes comment.

Brad, straightening it up from flopping over, because of the weight of his hard shaft, excuses himself, "Hey, I'm a growing teen."

"Growing is right!" Logan replies.

Suddenly Mark says, "I better think about getting out and getting dressed."

"What's your hurry?" Brad sits up, sinking his shaft like a periscope.

"Father's limo will be by to pick me up. When he gets word of how I failed him miserably, probably I'll become a victim to his private torture chamber!"

"Fuck that!" Brad calls it. "Torture his own son?"

"Step-son," Mark drops the bomb, him going on to tell about him being the least favored of all the Dubnikov children.

There was much they didn't know, so for the next forty minutes Mark told of his father remarrying, other step-siblings and how he was shoved by the wayside. "The only way I felt I could gain his confidence back was to become involved in his special hobby."

"So he'll be pissed off because you didn't torture Jose?" Logan asks.

Brad figures, "Which would bring total embarrassment on him because his son screwed up `his' reputation?"

"That's about the gist of it," Mark replies.

"We gotta think about this," Brad says, drawing himself and Logan into Mark's life. Meaning business, he stands, water rushing down his bod to where his bellyhole is slightly submerged.

"There's nothing you can do. The limo will come and I'll be whisked away in it... only."

"What?" Brad asks, the three of them waist deep.

"What a waste. I haven't met two `real' guys like you two in a long time. I'm going to hate leaving."

Logan says nonchalantly, "Then don't!"

Decisively Brad says, "Logan's right."

"But it's not that easy."

"You're not leaving," Brad replies. "When that limo shows up," he plans with impromtu thought, "we'll stick `the bears' in there."

Logan says, "That the best you can do, Houdini?"

"Okay. So forget the bears, but we've got to think of something." Then, "We `will' think of something, Mark."

"If I could just be granted one break in life?" Mark said with desperation.

Logan tries soothing, "Brad will come up with something."

Joking, Brad tells Mark, "It's the least I can do for a guy who saved me from a wild bear attack!"

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Copyright 2011 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.....