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Give till it hurts...and if that's not enough, get with some s&m!
'YoGA MaTt' o2
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
One good thing about a partner in the business, not in the business sense, but Tom being his live-in mate for life, are the unscheduled times in their lives.
For instance, it's ninety percent of the time they wake up, usually Mat first, rolling out of bed. Looking over at his mate, he gazes at that beautiful back, half covered by a sheet, pink, Tom's choice. It forming over that bubbly ass, has Mat thinking of how he had his muscle-guy almost doubled in half as he plowed in, riding him until both met with that euphoric moment. Knowing Tom will come first, from an experience happening too many years ago to remember, Mat shoos his hand away, scolding, 'oh no you don't!' Mat calls the shots, that when he's a few minutes out from filling a condom, is the one to jerk Tom's shaft. But then, too caught up in his own in-and-out-and-in-and-out frenzy, withdraws that solo hand, a result of needing both arms to ride out the ritual.
After years of 'practice', they have it down pat, knowing by sounds and emphasis, when they are going to shoot their loads. Mat has a full condom and fulfilling feeling for a trophy. Tom, his fuzzy bod is all soiled up with gooey material, which as a personal thing, he loves pulling it all up his six-pack, wiping the residue on his poundcakes. Mat, using Tom's knees as a fulcrum, divides them, slamming his chest down on all that wet mess.
Thinking about it, he knows Tom is too pooped to lick it all off. Wet tongue on dried cum takes longer and with not much time to get in a jog around the neighborhood, stop to talk to his elderly neighborhood, (who wants to know every detail of how it went with Tom), get home, shower, dress and head to the gym, a quick shower does the trick.
The schedule changes on Saturdays and Sundays, when Randy, the dude Tom took in from a life of a cuisine to be had from a dumpster and finding a warm place on the street to bunk, as a result of Tom's generosity, attends college, studying for a Bachelor of health science, with concentration in healthy lifestyles and fitness. Right now he's a personal trainer, but Randy one day would to use his education either at the high school or college level, either way coaching a team.
On this one particular Friday, even though Mat knows Randy doesn't have the expertise to 'teach' yoga, he knows enough to fake it, taking Nude Yoga 101 class through the motions, so he can get a few extra moments in with his mate.
Tom, feeling the bed bounce, rolls over on his back to face Mat, "oh man, you reek!"
"I couldn't wait to shower to be a part of your morning!"
Not much sweeter smelling, Tom stinking of their sex last night, the two entwine for a good morning kiss.
Even though he knows he'll be late, Mat says, "shower?"
After gazing at his phone for messages, Tom says, "don't you have a class?"
"Did you forget you hired Randy?"
"How could I forget?"
Yeah, what was wrong with Tom, to forget that beautiful twenty year old he pulled from living a life on the streets, to setting him up in college, a place to live and employing him at the yoga studio?
As they both exit it the bed, Mat belabors the point as they strip the sheets, "I wish we had it in the budget to hire a maid."
A statement, Tom knows it goes beyond that, "maybe when we break even on the yoga studio?"
In the shower, they rekindle their relationship with kissing, Tom dropping to his knees. They have a sensual time without ejaculation, it too soon, the wells not refilled yet.
Out of the shower, each dries themselves off. Mat shaves, Tom trimming around his beard, tidying it up.
Mat might mention, "uh, your tiger trail, it needs a little thinning?"
Smiling, Tom says, "you have the time?"
"For you sweetheart, always."
Regardless of how much semen is in the storeroom, Tom can't help but get hard when Mat goes beyond the spot below his navel, clean-shaving his balls.
"Mm-m, that feels way too good," Tom says, completely surrendering his furry bod to Mat, elbows up, hands behind the head.
Mat returns, "not a tough job, with something ample to hold onto!"
Tom loves it that Mat uses his shaft to pull up and get it out of the way. Although sometimes the directive is for him to hold himself, being it's tricky to shave a pair of balls and not have the other hand free to pull the sacs taut.
"There, that looks good. How do they feel?"
Forget the tiger trail, Tom's hands head towards his orbs, feeling them up, "nice job."
"Good. I suggest a quick rinse?"
Heading back into the shower, Tom, in an attempt to hose off his balls, might get a little excited, closing his eyes and thinking of Randy down there licking.
Mat's call, 'coffee,' suddenly jars Tom's mind back to reality, reverting to dousing his balls, jumping out of the shower and with a toweled waist, head for the kitchen.
By now, wise to Tom, Mat says as he hands his partner a cuppa, "have a nice jerk off with Randy?"
"Of course not. You know I would never cheat on you!"
"Liar." Then tempering his thoughts, "it's okay if we fantasize, right?"
Years ago they went through the 'what if' fantasy list, with friends, telling who they'd like to 'be with', Tom, having worked in his college years with a modeling agency, named dozens of good looking men he wouldn't mind sleeping with. Mat on the other hand could think of sports stars. Their friends names actors or ordinary people in roles of life, policemen, firemen, the young guy down at the service station who pumps gas, etc.
"Right," Tom agrees.
Because Mat alerted Randy to opening the yoga studio this morning, "you're on dish duty."
"Such a price to pay for a shave!"
Both laugh, Mat fast to mellow out, "corny, Tom," which follows with a sweet peck to the lips.
"See ya later."
Later is usually two hours away, enough time given for Tom to clean up the breakfast dishes, make the bed and then a few minutes given to studying his muscled bod in the wall mirror, checking to make sure Mat did a superb shaving of his tiger trail and balls!
%
Entering the yoga studio, Mat has relieved Randy, entering the nude yoga class. Even though quiet as a church mouse, heads raise, most likely the all-male quorum wanting to get a look at Mat stripping off his tank, shucking the flip-flops, then lowering his shorts.
At this point, Randy pauses the instruction for the minute and a half it takes Mat to ready to take up his position.
"Okay ladies, you've had your eye candy for the day, back to focusing on what you're paying the big bucks for!"
As they pass midway to coming and going, Mat chides, "um, get rid of that," he means Randy's stiff tube, "before you get the floor wet!"
"Yes sir," Randy replies softly, so no one can hear.
After a yoga class, whether nude or clothed, Mat turns the heat up, literally, a switch used to raise or lower the temperature of the room.
Pros and cons follow. Such is the state of every man's bod, before putting on street clothes, a shower is necessary. Mat 'eats' the cost of the negative, having a bigger water bill at the facility. Sometimes he has to remind Tom, that he needs to be sweaty to take a shower!
After class Mat heads to the shower, but not the community one. Within the confines of Tom's office is a private bath. Not a lux one like they've got at home, a one-person stall, sink and toilet. Just enough for the basic needs.
With back to back, two nude yoga classes, Mat can unwind, having the shower handy, plus a stash of extra shorts and tanks in Tom's office.
After Mat comes in the office, flops down on the sofa, by routine Tom is up at the door, locking it, saying, "the usual?"
For the past ten years, just about every day, it hasn't been the same, "really, Tom?"
"I guess that means I'll surprise you then."
Easy for Mat to get comfy, all he has to do is slip off shorts and flip flops.
Of the sweat buildup, he knows Tom is good with a sponge, spray and gym towel.
For the business asset behind Mat's Yoga Studio, Tom needs to have himself presentable for a client or would be signup. Therefore, when Mat enters he's all sweet smelling.
With his shorts down around his ankles, hand in the crevass, Mat says, "oh yeah, Tom and nice an'slow if you know what I mean?"
"Oh, in that case," the shirtless manager reaches over to his desk, cues something on his phone, making the soundbar on a shelf produce music.
"You're going to strip that fast?"
Like he's annoyed, Tom reaches for his cell again, switching it from heavy beats to something soft and sultry, "this better?"
"Nah," Mat jokes, "actually the visual is more stimulating than the audio."
After kicking shoes off, peeling polo shirt off overhead, the trousers come down. Tom wasn't much of a dancer, for slow music, but he could really get into it when they made it a night at a gay bar, swinging hips left, right, either of the two making their crotches highlight their performance.
Forcefully Tom says, "in a minute I'll show you the highlight of my oral performance!"
Like, Mat, years ago in his circle of high school-college friends, was the king of puns, but he to admit he was dethroned when meeting up with Tom, now the guru of comebacks when it comes to matching whits!
"And like," Mat spaces his words with a pause, just enough for a hand to slip to his pubes, "I don't know how that goes?"
If anyone ever bothered to do the math, statistics would prolly show, over the past ten or so years they have been together, taking a ballpark figure of 10 years, breaking it down into months, refining the figures into weeks, how many blow jobs a day...
"What the fuck you doing, Tom?"
"Figuring it out, how many times I've orally worked you over in a year?"
'This close' to Tom, Mat fake gutpunches his bf, and as it happens, a move they've reheased over the years, it caves in Tom's abs, him physically cradling his pudgy tummy in both hands, falling to knees and because he fakes a loud outcry, his mouth is nice and wide on the receiving end!
"Oh yeah," Mat croons, working hips forward and back.
Sometimes, when Mat allows his torso to back up the momentum of the 'punch', he'll get so engrossed in the cock workout, a hand will grab Tom's bushy haircut and use it as a catalyst to dig in deeper.
Of this time, Tom pushes against Mat to dislodge the full seven inches, "a-hagh," cough, cough!
Knowing how dramatic Tom can be, Mat doesn't take it seriously, "what? Afraid you'll be hoarse for karaoke this week?"
"Nah," Tom jokes, "just a little pre-cum went down the wrong way."
Hearing his partner clear his throat, Mat says, "are we all better."
Much improved, Tom says, "yeah, I think so."
"Good. Open wide 'cause I don't want to lose it over a little choking."
Tom could've cried abuse, but with someone he trusts, he knew that could never be the case. In fact, whereas Mat has stood by him, whether roughly playing partner to partner, or with another man in Mat's boots, there has always been that watchful care.
This time around, Mat was slowly building and building, "getting close."
Lo and behold, whereas the workplace is not always the best of places to do stuff like this, there's a knock at the door.
Like fear has gripped Mat, he plucks his shaft from Tom's throat, grabs the shorts which are still down around ankles, just for times like these, surprised by an intruder.
Tom, he's still on his knees, saying, "I'd love to have Lance, Karim or Randy catch me down on my knees, you know, give them the hint?"
Mat, who is feeding limbs into the sleeves of his shirt, hurriedly replies, "be careful what you wish for, boyfriend, unless you want to sound squeaky at karaoke?"
Tom feels his throat and like he couldn't sense it, "no, I'm good for tonight."
Everyone who worked for Mat, which was a small staff of less than ten, knew not only him and Tom are gay, but also coupled up. Reason enough that when Mat opens the door a crack, saying, "I'm kind of busy at the moment, Randy. What's up?"
Like dancing sugarplums in his head, Tom wishes like crazy Mat would open the door fully and expose, accidentally-on-purpose, him there on his butt, working on his sneakers. That's one of the things with Tom. He liked his fetishes, which one of them could be putting himself on a pedestal. Not for the purpose of raising himself above others, but standing out as a guy who could take another man's abuse.
Tom, years ago it started out small, a buddy pinching his nip as a joke. One nip led to two and soon this one guy, who started out with hands on nipplay, soon turned to other stuff. Thumbs and fingers pinching was replaced by clothespins. In college the nipplay turned more serious, when more serious a player amped up the cause, which sent shockwaves running through Tom's bod, electrical jolts right to the balls!
He didn't mean to be nosy, just curious, Randy saying, "um, Tom in there with you?"
"See for yourself," Mat opens the door wide.
Randy felt a little embarrassed, even though Tom sat on the sofa, tying his sneakers.
There was reason why a shy guy could feel that way, Tom doing his routine dressing back into his clothes. He skipped the briefs and sat there with his butt loosely fitted with slacks. Unlike undies, he never wore a white tee shirt under his white dress shirt. One day, long ago, Mat questioned why Tom wore only white and not some pastel shirt, even inquiring about why he even dressed so formally at the studio?
Standing there half-naked at the mirror in their bedroom, Tom pawed chest and stomach, saying, "well, I figure I have all this nice fur on my bod and wouldn't it be a scream if I caught some guy studying my shirt, trying to trace the pattern with his eyes?"
Mat, going shirt by shirt in the closet, perusing through the 'Mat Yoga Studio' color which grabbed his attention, pokes his head out, "you're a sick pup, Tom!"
"No, truthfully," Tom says, pulling the closet door fully open, exposing himself in his dressup garb, clothed with buttoned down shirt, slacks, signature sneakers, "if you were ordinary 'Mr. Stalker', wouldn't you be inclined to stare and try to figure out what the pattern of my hair is on my chest and stomach?"
Force of habit, any time of the day Mat could get in a pranking mood, which now, "well wait, let me see about that!"
He then laughs as Tom stands there, jaw gaping, after taking both sides of his shirt, tearing it open, revealing that lush growth over pecs, fuzzy tummy, the embedded trail of dark brown hair and after coursing over the deep bellyhole, "mm-mm", he scrapes a figure over Tom's tiger trail, "now this!"
"Go for it," Tom is all up for his partner's hand to go exploring below the belt!
Something Mat had said to Tom, years ago, was a reason why it was good they worked together in the same building. Not only to relieve stress at any hour of the day, but even at 41yo, Tom's testosterone levels were still at their peak and then, coupled with his kinky nature, no telling how that could play out, in a workplace of mostly gay men!
Mat put it bluntly, "you better change. I'm leaving in 5. Be ready or you'll be thumbing a ride home."
"Hm-mm," Tom thought on it as he removes his shirt. Then, standing there in the mirror, admiring that hairy pattern, daydreamed himself into a hard on, thinking of himself as 'the shirtless hitchhiker'!
%
Randy's day began much different than his bosses. Showering usually leads to releasing his pent up emotions. Sometimes the evening before he would be entertaining a client he left the yoga studio with, though other than this one dude, Randy tried to stay away from the 'conflict of interests'. It just so happened, this one guy happened to go to the same college as Randy and how could he turn down a hot ass!
Coming out of his apartment, one which Tom is responsible for setting him up in, Randy is greeted by another dude at the same look-a-like entrance, standing there, with some reading material.
Because the dude, looking to be around his age, maybe a little older, caught his eye, kind of interested Randy, not knowing many people outside the confines of the yoga studio or pride center, gets brave, "whatcha reading?"
The cub looks up, down at the letter and then like someone who's discovered something magnificent, pops his head up, "oh. Hi."
"I haven't seen you around before?"
"Yeah, got this crappy job while trying to put myself through college," he sounds grumpy. "They keep changing my hours from morning to night, then occasionally my boss will want me to cover. If I have a class, he tells me to skip it, that he needs me. I don't know why I stick with it. I get a little assistance from my brother, but he can't afford to pay my whole tuition."
Well, that was quite a mouthful, but what Randy has learned, a patient ear is next to sainthood, to listen to another person pour out what's bothering them, making it a good release of bad energy, "it can't be that bad?"
"Worse," the cub says, "did you read this letter?"
"No," Randy leans his bod over the separating wrought iron railing.
"You got one too. They're raising our rent!"
Each apartment, being it was in a rural area, instead of key-locked, had a lift-lid enclosure next to the door of each unit. Randy opens and retracts the envelope.
"I can tell you what it says, Randy."
Not meant as a pickup line, "have we met. I mean, before this morning?"
"Uh, no. I got some mail for you in my box once. I gave it back to Pete, the mailman. He said it was my next door neighbor and deposited it in your box."
"Well, thanks for that."
It caught the cub off guard, that this skinny guy would take the time and prolonging the good deed comment, "you're welcome."
Propping his butt up against the opposite railing, giving his neighbor his utmost full attention, Randy says, "go ahead."
"With?"
"What the same letter I got as you?"
"Oh! Right," Elton fumbles with reopening the mail, the cub tearing back into it as if opening it for the first time.
"It's says here, well we can skip over the reasons 'why' the rent is being raised."
"No," Randy was kind of entertained, "let's hear it, um, what's your name?"
"Elton. Elton Johnson," he waits.
Randy wondered what gives, wondering if Elton forget the 'junior', or maybe tacking on the 'II' or 'III', second or third, "and?"
"Nothin'. Sometimes people make a joke of my name."
"Oh?" Randy sits there like he hasn't a care in the world, studying the cub from shoulder to shoulder, wondering if the color of the beard matches any other parts of his bod, "how does that go?"
"Elton John, ever hear of him?"
"Of course I've heard of Elton John. I sing some of his songs at karaoke."
With quick-thinking, Elton decides to talk about Randy and not himself, "are you a good singer?"
He wasn't about to let on just yet that he sang at a gay bar, Randy saying, "some think I'm good."
Although it left Randy smiling, all giddy inside, that even though he knew he sang off key periodically, guys said he was great, hoping for a hook up!
"Hmm, maybe I'll try it sometime." Elton was afraid of losing another friendly encounter, due to his clumsiness at social skills, but then decides to put himself out there, "I saw they have karaoke at the gay bar."
At this point Randy knew Elton was fishing, so decided to jump on the hook, "that's where I sing!"
"Really? Okay. Cool."
Things were escalating, Randy unable to think before doing, "yep. Uh, if you're interested in going sometime?"
He didn't say with him, Elton second guessing it, "you mean, with me?"
"Sure. Why not?"
Usually, when Randy engages in conversation, for lack of, being silent most of his teen years, sometimes he will respond offbeat, with something quirky, even though he's had some psychological counseling, which has groomed his people skills, "can you sing?"
"Sing? Hm, now that's questionable."
"You certainly certainly seem confident."
Elton wasn't sure what that meant, but decides to deviate off subject, "confident? I think I would be more confident at the gym, than trying to sing!"
Oh man, did Randy let his gay intuition get the best of him, which had him instantly regretting what he said, "I mean, have you seen Elton John without his shirt, or even naked?"
"Naked?" It shocks Randy into claiming, "oh, no, no, no. Not Elton. Some other celebs, yeah, but not Elton John," he goes on the defensive, like he was personally attacking John's integrity.
He didn't know about Randy, but Elton sure was starting to feel the heat. Much so, he hoped the open letter from the landlord would be sufficient to hide his bloatedness.
However, instead of doing or saying what could calm him, he proceeds down route of the gutter, "oh, what celebs do you think are hot without their shirt on?"
Randy bit a lip. It's not which he didn't mind keeping the conversation going, just that he wasn't sure if he could keep his crotch from bulging, thinking of the jerk off fantasies he's experienced, thinking of naked actors, but then confesses, "quite a few actually. How about yourself?"
"Me? A few."
"Oh."
Certainly, Elton had been disappointed. It's been ages, or maybe never, a guy took an interest in talking with him, this long!
"Well, I better get to work," Randy says, stepping down the three-step brick stairs.
Being it now or never, Elton says, "about going to karaoke, when would you want to go?"
Randy partially uses his hand on the railing to retrace his steps, "you wouldn't happen to be free Saturday night?"
Suddenly Elton felt all clammy, that he had nailed it, "you mean going on a date with you?"
Having thought himself, Randy gulps, "uh, well, we don't necessarily have to call it that."
"Of course not. I guess I'll just knock on your door, unless you would want to put your number in my cell?"
Randy looked at him, standing there like Elton was terrified at gunpoint, "good idea."
"Really?" Elton suddenly went from frozen to thawed out, "thanks!"
Randy leans over the railing, in Elton's direction, "uh, I would need your phone?"
"I guess this means we're friends?"
Being there, in Elton's shoes, he supposes, "do you have more than one friend?"
He wasn't angry, Elton more trusting of a guy who is nice to him, "I have to admit, you'd be my first. You can check my cell phone book?"
"Nah," Randy says, "I'll take your word for it."
Retrieving the phone, each had to lean over the wrought iron railing, which to Elton it felt like a rural, neighborhood couple, husband kissing husband, on the way out the door. He could only wish!
He wasn't sure this would be stoopid, but Elton gave it a try, "will you be calling me?"
Already late to work, Randy didn't have time to think, if he really wanted to call Elton, but makes a split decision, "you wanted my number. You call me!"
It then plagued Elton all morning, on the bus, drop off at the downtown grocery store, where he worked. Having to deal with a phobic boss, customers, Randy seemed like a haven from all that. Hving his cell out, looking at Randy's name, no last name, but the number was there, crystal clear.
"Johnson, you want to get yourself together, before I fire that fat ass?"
Unfortunately for Elton, his boss wasn't the only homophobe, or he wasn't sure, Jack behind the meat counter could be. Jack was always threatening him with a roll of salami. He didn't know whether Jack's thinking was of the salami fitting up his ass or, perhaps using it as a metaphor, his own cock in place of it!
As he passes by the meat counter, Jack is there with a salami in hand, casually saying so only he could hear, "hey, got a salami here with your name on it, Johnson!"
Elton was kind of stuck in his job. A college student, he hoped to break into acting someday. However right now he was in business management. His brother urged him to pick a concrete subject, rather than some frivolous endeavor such as acting, with the reason, fat actors didn't make it, not being the Hollywood mold. How his brother's attitude became that way, was begat from their father. If he thought on it enough, it would send him into a downward spire. More than once he remembers stuff like him and his brother being slapped around or having the belt taken to their bare backs. Though, in a quirky way his brother had a 'kindness' towards him, being they both grew up under the same family tree.
Elton did think a little on it, because not every moment of his growing up was bad. As he broke down boxes on the loading dock, he thought of how understanding Eddie could be. Their father's negative attitude didn't surface until their mother passed away, when the two bro's, a year apart in age, began experiencing the slaps across the face, told to get to the basement, each witnessing the other's strapping across the back. Afterwards, each was there to repair the other, both in mind and bod.
Often, Eddie, a year older, would sooth Elton's wounds, rubbing salve into his striped back. When they were seventeen and eighteen, after a half hour in the basement, right in the middle of Eddie being strapped across his back, their father had a heart attack and collapsed. For a minute the brothers stood there and did nothing. Then the older, Eddie, says to Elton to, 'check him'. Meaning a pulse, Elton replied he didn't know how to. Feeling the same, Eddie takes out his cell and finally dials 9-1-1.
Prior to the police arriving, Eddie said they should get dressed. Elton disagreed, telling his brother the police should see the crime in progress, a father using corporal punishment to discipline his sons. They didn't have to elaborate on the parental cruelty, the leather belt in their father's hand, the empty belt loops of his pants, old welts across their backs, fresh stripes on Eddie's back.
For a few seconds Eddie stood there, thinking, before saying, "you're right."
One of the detectives summoned to the scene had experience with teens in distress, over parental abuse.
Eddie was the main spokesperson, "the primary reason I feel we were beaten was the psychological condition our father was in."
The police were busy at the scene, ushering a detective inside, briefly giving account, "hey, I'm Alton Scharf, detective with the police department," and after the rundown, can heartily add, "I'm sorry for what you boys have been put through."
It's Eddie who remains outspoken, "you don't know the half of it, officer."
Then faced with what exactly did happen, the brothers took time explaining. When Alton came to the part, "what do think might have set your father off, to do this to you?"
Seventeen year old Elton, at the time, says "because of us being brothers and," he wasn't saying, not sure if everyone gets enraged like their father, over sons being gay.
Eddie knew what his brother was going to say, but led the detective astray, "what Elton means is, we're not all the time model teenagers we're supposed to be, officer."
"Well, I'm not the police, but I work in the police department. You can call me Alton."
Being a dectective, a person is made and molded to 'detect'. What Eddie told him did not match Elton's demeanor, like he was trying to protest the coverup!
Perhaps a little taken with Alton's physique, handsome face, the beard, Eddie loving guys with hairy facial features, "you can call me Eddie."
He already knew, but Alton made it like the first time hearing, "nice to meet you Eddie."
Completing the greeting with a handshake, really Alton wanted to get more of a feel for the situation, which had nothing to do with this investigation!
Four years later, Elton is enrolled in college, Eddie and his partner helping out with tuition and up until Elton starting rooming at the dorm, he stayed with Eddie.
Through a friend of a friend of one of Eddie's friend he's found employment at a grocery store downtown. Elton is not real happy working there, thinking of the manager as more like his father, after he 'lost his mind', and then there's Jack, always with the salami puns.
It was on this one afternoon, the manager says he needs an inventory of goods in the basement, putting Jack in charge. Going out on the loading dock, he tells Elton, "hey, you're off garbage duty for the rest of the day. "Conely," the boss, "says we've got to inventory goods in the basement."
Not thinking anything wrong with that, Elton follows Jack to the stairs, saying, "who else is helping us?"
"Conely says he can't take anyone else from the floor."
"Really? This could take a long time to finish. I've got class at four."
"I hear ya, Johnson. Let's just get started. I've got a life after work too," Jack assures him, opening a door, flicking a switch and then descends the wooden stairs.
Elton follows.
After stepping off the last stair, Jack says, "whew, hot in here."
Elton couldn't say he didn't enjoy the view, Jack working his apron off overhead, followed by stripping his tee shirt off, turning it inside out.
"Better get comfortable, Johnson," Jack says, leading Elton into the second cellar.
"I'm okay."
Elton didn't see, Jack walking back past him, pulling something from next to the wall, which happened to be a secluded door, with excuse, "it's cooler in here. Don't want all that heat and humidity traveling from room to room."
He then goes to the opposite end of the room, saying, "here, help me room these over to the middle of the rooom."
Not questioning Jack, figuring he had more experience at inventory than he did, complies, taking a metal drum and as shown, rolls it on the edge till it's in the middle of the room.
"I'll set them in place. You keep rolling."
Elton rolls a third drum over, Jack taking it from him and setting it in place.
After the fourth drum has traveled over to Jack, he says, "good. Now all we need to do is set up the table."
"Oh? What's that for?"
"We need somewhere to put goods as we count them out from the shelf."
Sounded logical, Elton following Jack over to a wall, grabbing one end of a board, looking to be about 6ft tall by 4ft wide. They walk it over and set it on top of the metal drums.
"Good," Jack says, walking over to a cabinet, "now all we have to do is secure the table to the drums so they don't kick out, with all that weight of the merchandise on top."
"Here," Jack says, handing Elton some strands of rope, "you hold them and follow me around the table."
Jack squats, placing one of the thick ropes around the barrel of the tin. With the slack he leaves it on top of the table.
Elton wasn't sure, but ventures to say, "aren't you going to tie it to the table?"
"Oh, I will, after I get all four ropes tied around the drums. Trust me, Johnson, you'll see how it all comes together in a minute."
"Okay."
Following Jack around the table, the meat counter manager squats, reaches arms around like hugging the barrel and after getting up, leaves the slack on the table.
After the fourth barrel is tied, Jack says, "good, now only one thing remaining."
Right then the sliding door opens, store manager, Mr. Conely and two other men walk in that Elton has never seen before.
"I see we're almost ready," Conely says, adding, "this here are Marco and Billy, two men I've hired," saying with a sly inflection, "to help with the inventory."
"Oh," Elton says, "I thought it was just Jack and me?"
The burly, bearded men, start unbuttoning their shirts, "what, and miss out on all the fun?"
Conely walk back through the doorway, closing it a little, then says, "uh, make sure the inventory is counted twice, Jack, even if it takes all night?"
"Will do," he bids the store manager leave.
Elton suddenly felt uncomfortable, one of the men, he thinks is Marco, tall, tanned complexion, beard, hairy as a bear, comes over to him, "you look hot in that shirt. Maybe you should take it off?"
Not liking it that Marco was helping himself to the buttons on the shirt, Elton rebukes the action, shooing hands away, "what the hell you think you're doing?"
"The guys are just trying to be helpful, Elton," Jack says.
Paying attention to Jack, Elton sees his belt undone, separating the fly of his pants, "what are you doing, Jack?",
With his attention back and forth from Marco to Jack, Elton doesn't see Billy, sneaking around, to where he is at his back.
"Oh come on, boy," Billy, a blond man of about 5'10, "grabs elbows, pinning them behind his back, "Marco and me have been at our construction jobs all day..."
Marco moves closer to where Billy has Elton bound, "yeah and watchin' all them boys go by has our balls boilin', ya catch our drift?"
There's absolutely nothing Elton can think of to do, as once again Marco's hands get busy at unbuttoning his market-branded shirt, "no. Don't. Please."
"Yeah, I love a boy who begs," Marco says, pulling Elton's shirt out of his pants, separating them to reveal his pudgy bod.
With attention drawn to his own personal well-being, Elton hadn't realized Jack, stripping down, until he comes around front of him, nudging Marco out of the way, "oh, I always wondered about these," he takes Elton's nips in fingers and thumbs, giving them a little squeeze.
From behind, Billy says, "hey, Marco, why don't you show Jack here your purple nurple?"
Billy laughs, but Elton is frightful of what that might be, being Jack has just finished softly massaging his nips.
"Oh?" Jack questions, moving aside, "never heard of it."
"Sure to give him a little zinger," Marco laughs.
All atention, including Elton, is on Marcos fingers and thumbs, grabbing at both nips.
Suddenly Elton feels the excrutiating pain of both nips being pulverized, but doesn't flinch a muscle. Rather, that pain turns into him feeling his cock pulsing, mumbling, "no, this is just wrong."
Then the next thing Elton is aware of, is some guy touching his shoulder, stirring him awake, "hey buddy, I think this is your stop?"
His mind cloudy, Elton slowly realizes he's been dreaming, "Jack?"
"No," the bus driver says, "the name's Marc."
Still fuzzy, Elton questions, "Marco?"
"No, just plain Marc."
Unlike his dream, the Marco in the fantasy world was harsh, nasty, sadistic, but of Marc, "you're probably wondering why you're the only one of the bus?"
"Um, no," Elton looks around, "they got off?"
Casually taking the seat ahead of Elton, kneeling on one knee, Marc says, "no, I did something highly unethical, dropped them off at their stops and doubled back to where you would normally get off."
Skeptical, Elton says, "and why would you do that?"
"If you've taken notice, I don't always have this route. I'm a bus substitute is how you might put it, I take on routes where a driver unexpectedly calls out or goes on short term leave. I've had this route once before."
Elton recalls, "right. I think I remember, the week before Christmas."
"That's right, and if I'm not mistaken, you work at the grocery store about a half of a block, south?"
Based on his dream, being lured to the basement, Elton has a flashback, but also in the state of reality, thinking of being alone with this bus driver who has gone out of his way to accommodate him, "uh, you're not holding me prisoner, are you?"
A strange look comes over Marc's face, a cross between eating sour grapes and smelling bad deoderant, "what's that?" Then realizing, "oh. No, no, no, wouldn't dream of it!"
'Dream', his words then made Elton feel silly, "sorry 'bout that. Y'see, at my job," realizing this is not what you talk about to a stranger, especially a dreamy one who is taking an interest, "oh, never mind."
"No. Go on."
"I should be getting to work," Elton gets up.
When he does, Marc rises up off his knee, which brings both to about the same height.
"How selfish of me," Marc says.
"Of?"
"You have a job to get to and me, I don't have any other coverages for the day, which leads me to my next question."
"Oh?"
"If you're not doing anything for lunch, I'd like to meet up with you?"
What always followed Elton around and resurfaced when meeting guys is, "why would a very hot man like you want to hang around with a chubby guy like me?"
Marc thought this might come up, "because I dig chubby guys?"
Elton didn't say anything, just stared, while his brain processed.
"If you don't want to make a decision now, I can put my number in your phone?"
It gives Elton a flashback to this morning, upon meeting Randy outside their apartment doors, "sure. Why not," he digs into his pants for his cell.
"Thanks," Marc says, keying in his phone info.
Taking it back, Elton reads it, "Marc D'Angelo."
"Yep. That's me."
"The only thing you didn't put in here, is your age?"
"Oh, would that be a deal breaker in our relationship? I mean, friendship?"
It made Elton smile, "no, but I recognize you as being much older than me, not which that would be a deal breaker."
"Thirty-three, you want to erase my number?"
"I'm twenty-one, and no, keeping it."
"Perfect. Well then, I'll let you get to the grocery store."
Just then a snappy little idea pops into Elton's head, "second thought, maybe you'll want to pick up some food for when you make our dinner tonight?"
"Dinner? Tonight?"
Marc thought he was moving fast!
"Sure, but let me get this dinosaur back to the yard and I'll swing by in my own wheels."
Then that was it. The bus tore out of there and Elton started walking the half-block to the store. Soon as he gets to the store, he pushes the double doors and expecting to enter, lightly bashes his head up against it when it doesn't open. He notices something drastically different. Peering into the store he doesn't see anything stirring around. With a flashback to dreaming on the bus, he thought maybe Mr. Conely and Jack were down in the basement, setting up. Then a store employee he knows comes to the door and unlocks it.
"Sh-h-h, you've gotta be quite, Elton!"
He drags Elton into the Dorito aisle.
"What's goind on, Chip? Why's it so quiet in the store? Where's everyone?"
"They're all gone," Chip counts on his fingers, "Mr. Conely, Jack, Rob in seafood. It's a conspiracy and they've all been taken out. Homeland security is in the Conely's office right now."
"Wait a minute Chip. Back up. What conspiracy?"
Chip says, still with a nervous excitement, "remember last month, that hot Peruvian guy that was hired, then suddenly fired?"
"Hot? Peruvian guy? Chip, are you gay?"
"Oh. What did I say?"
"You called the Peruvian guy hot. That would suggest something, like?"
Realizing it, Chip says, "would you be okay with it, if I was," he swallow, "gay?"
"Too late now, Chip, but I'm fine with it. Takes one to know one?"
"You're gay?" Chip acts udderly bewildered, "but you're so straight!"
It makes Elton chuckle, "I get that a lot. Well, not really a lot, because I'm not out to many people."
It briefly gets him to thinking how Marc knew?
"Well, forget about that for now, Elton. Right now the regional manager is in the back and in five minutes is meeting with all the employees."
"I take it, since no one is out on the floor, they are in the break room?"
Chip was ahead of him, already leading him there.
He was a cute kind of guy, lanky, not terribly bad looking, a hair style not befitting for him, which others have mentioned, but Chip didn't care.
He walk like stepping on broken glass, "sh-h-h, quiet as we go by Conely's office."
Elton did take care not to pound his feet on the linoleum, but didn't hide the fact he was curious about all this. In fact, as Chip wasn't paying much attention to what was behind him, gave Elton the change to stop at Conely's door for the purpose of listening in. Now he knew why they had such thick doors on important rooms like the store manager's office, barely hearing a word.
Suddenly, without knowing, the door blasts open, sending Elton flying across the hallway!
"Oh my God, are you alright," a tall dude comes out, with quick reflexes, goes to pull Elton's arm, keeping him from fully impacting the wall.
Speaking of 'God', Elton has met his second angel of the day, "I'm okay. Really. I've got a lot of bulk to land on!"
He laughed and as he did, his angel's face curled up into a more cheery disposition, "thank God for that."
As Elton righted himself, brushed the superficial dust off, he says, "are you from Homeland Security?"
"Homeland Security?"
"Yeah, one of the employees," he wasn't about to put the finger on Chip, "says Homeland Security was called in to handle a conspiracy?"
"Not quite that dramatic, but there is a detective from the DA's office here, investigating quite a serious matter regarding some of our personnel."
It's then Elton gets it, "are you the regional manager?"
"Yes," he replies, "have we met?"
If at a gay bar, whereas Elton has never been in one, but has seen some gay flicks, knows the pickup line, "no we haven't," thinks he wishes he had!
"I see. Well, it's good to meet you now. I'm Glenn Garry and as you know, I am in charge of this store, well as all the stores in this district."
Of the other stores in the district, right now Elton didn't care much, only to feast his eyes on this ginger-brown man, "so, is this about," he thought he would drop what Chip did accidentally, on purpose, "the hot Peruvian guy?"
It was a cause to stop, stutter, but Glenn kept on, like he never heard the word, 'hot', "yes, but he's not Peruvian. Brazillian," but realizing something, which for the moment Elton's interest and handsome face made him forget, "but I'm not supposed to be talking about it, sorry."
"No problem," he was not sure to call him by casual or formal name, choosing what he wanted, "Glenn."
It made him crack a little smile, which Elton didn't know what that was for.
Normally Glenn went with the formal name-calling, but being Elton was 'cute', he let it slide, "so, how long have you been working in this dump?"
"Dump?" Elton was thoroughly surprised.
"Yeah, you see, I haven't been out to this store in quite a while. When is it you came to work for us?"
Personally? Elton wishes he was working for Glenn in a different manner, but stuck on subject, "less than a year. My brother found me this job through a friend of a friend of a friend, but I have to admit something."
"What's that?"
"I don't like much working here. I only do it because I need the college money and my brother found me the job."
"Well," Glenn took to leaning against a wall, crossing his legs, following with arms under his pecs, "I can guarantee, if you stick with it, things will get better."
Was a shame, because Elton was enjoying looking at the silhouettes of his perky pecs standing out from his white dress shirt. It kind of made his mouth water. Not that he's gotten intimate with a man, but if he did, the first thing he'd try out is licking and sucking on a man's nips!
Next thing Elton knows, the door busts open for the second time, a man emerging and to think, adresses him, "Elton, what are you doing here?"
Elton had seen the detective, Alton Sharf, about two or three years ago, but haven't since, "Detective Sharf, how's it going?"
Whether the others made note of it, Glenn sure took notice, the dectective giving Elton a full hug, brief, but with a hint of affection, which kind of made him feel slighted. Then again, he met Elton only once, knocking him over, almost making him fall on his ass.
"Good, until I walked in the store this afternoon."
"Well, this is only a slight problem for the store, which does not involved you or any others than the ones who have been removed."
Truthful, Elton says, "well, no hard feelings if it's Mr. Conely and Jack who have been taken out."
Glenn joins in on the conversation, "not from them, but from others, like Chip, we understand they have been harrassing you quite a bit. Truly, from the company perspective, I apologize for that and hope we can make it up to you in some way.
Standing there, it wasn't only Elton who was taking it all in, Alton thinking of a few ways for Glenn could pay up!
One thing that Glenn had found out, from Chip, who knew behind Elton's back he was gay, guessing after hearing Jack from the deli counter, threatened to stick a thick roll of salami up Elton's ass, that the employee was gay, got scared, thinking Glenn was Homeland Security and confessed Elton was gay.
Thinking this, that he got the inside details quite by error, had Glenn twisting a little plot, "well, it's been quite a day and if either of you would like to accompany for drink, there's a nice bar down the street and around the corner?"
Elton and Alton, who have been to that nice bar down the street and around the corner, both at once become outspoken, "that's a gay bar!"
Smiling, Glenn says, "I know. So, you up for some drinks?"
First time he went to the bar, Elton was eighteen, but being he was accompanied by the DA, Alton got him in, no questions asked. After a few times he and Alton frequented the bar, no questions were asked. It was also the first man Elton slept with, going to Alton's apartment afterwards. 'Slept', there was no sex, literally falling asleep in the same bed. However, just about every morning they woke, Elton was found hugging Alton, his cock smooshed up against Alton's ass!
"We'd be delighted," Alton places a hand over Elton's shoulder. "But since the investigation is winding down, why wait?"
"What about the store?" Elton says.
Being that Glenn thought Alton too hot a man to wait until later, tosses the keys to the store to Elton, "think you can handle the ship until closing?"
"I don't know anything about managing a store?"
Chip wanders by, "I do. It's a cinch. C'mon, I'll show you everything you need to know."
"Okay," Elton says, but hesitant leaving Alton in Glenn's hands.
"Go," Alton says. "I can take care of myself."
With Alton outside the store, Glenn puts it vaguely, "I'm not taking you away from anyone, am I?"
Alton figured Glenn was insinuating something between himself and young Elton, "oh, no."
"Really? You seem awfully protective of the college boy who works at the store."
"Okay, so he's gay. I'm gay," and before Alton furthers this conversation, "geez, I damn well hope you're gay?"
Glenn laughs, "if those are the vibes you were getting, you're a pretty good judge of character!"
Enjoying the cheerful nature of their chat, Alton says, "I'm a detective, remember? I'm supposed to know these things?"
"Oh," Glenn, standing there with Alton on the sidewalk, eyes scanning him from head to crotch and back, "so what's your conclusion, detective?"
"Ninety-five percent sure of two things."
Glenn, his crotch vibrating, wanting to get somewhere where they can let loose, "which is?"
"One, the probability, since we're standing here together, that we're drawn to each other."
"And the second thing?"
"That the bulge in your pants suggests you really want to ram my ass?"
"Right on both accounts, except, detective, I really like a well-lubed shaft before shoving it anywhere, so I hope you haven't had too much breakfast?"
"Cock, pits, ass, I love it all," Alton says, feeling the fire down below.
To throw a wrench in their plans a guy steps up on the sidewalk, after crossing the street, "hey, are you gentlemen from the store? There's talk around town there's been an incident."
Prolly both their eyes were sore from staring, Glenn taking on the question, "I'm with the store, regional manager. And you are?"
Alton thought he recognized him, seeing him maybe once, somewhere in the city, so was glad Glenn asked.
"Marc D'Angelo. I'm a substitute for city bus runs. I happened to meet Elton on the bus this morning," yet didn't go into details of how they met, "and I know he works at the grocery store. Just wanted to check up on him, make sure he's okay."
It was no kept secret, Marc checking them both out, which has Alton both watching out for Elton's welfare, interrogating, "are you related to Elton?"
"Nah. In fact just met him for the first time this morning. I was on a neighborhood bus run, when at the end of the line I found Elton asleep. I know he works at the grocery store, waking him up so he wouldn't be late for work."
Whereas Glenn was feeling something for Alton, glancing at Marc's crotch gave him indication there was more here than meets the eye, "well then, maybe Detective Scharf here will need a statement from you."
Marc didn't see it, Alton feeling a foot knock him in the size of his size 9's, which had him catch on, "yeah. Standard for all those involved in the investigation."
Plainclothed, it would not give much of a hint to what he did for a living, but Marc, finding out his job perspective, says, "um, you're not going to take me downtown in cuffs?"
He didn't happen to have a pair handy, Alton saying, "not unless you want me to?"
It made Glenn's balls jump in his sacs, "we're going downtown alright, but not to the police precinct and unless you have another bus run, I'm going to have to insist you join us."
Marc's balls were boiling ever since he stepped up on the curb, gladly saying, "nope. No run. Fact is, I'm free for the rest of the day, so take me to your darkroom!"
He giggled at the thought of these two taking him their prisoner.
More than insistant, the ginger-brown regional manager dictates, "excellent. Get us a cab."
"No need to," Marc says, "I have my car right around the block."
Knowing the neighborhood, Alton says, "you're not parked around the corner in the alley?"
"Uh. Yeah," Marc replies, "that something illegal to do?"
Following along, Glenn says, "I'm sure it warrants some kind of action on the detective's part?"
For certain, Alton has pegged Glenn with a dominant attitude, Marc, submissive, but what he's trying to figure out, is where he fits in with all this, for now, "I'm sure there's some type of punishment to fit the crime."
Walking down the street, around the corner to the dead end alleyway, they find Marc's late model sedan.
Glenn, not done with dishing out the orders, puts his hand on Marc's, which has the key in hand, "you get in the back," tosses the keys to the third man, "you drive, Alton."
As Marc gets in the rear seat, he's on pins and needles, just thinking about the implications, Glenn demeaning him already, taking possession of his car, having to sit in the back. He could only speculate how it's going to go when they get to their destination.
%
Meanwhile, upon getting the call, Eddie has rushed to the grocery store and meets a guy at the door, unlocking it.
Upon stepping inside, "hey, you know a guy named Elton?"
During his employment, Elton and Chip had become friends, even more so after learning of the immigration scam, but regardless, knowing a lot about the brother, can summise, "you're Elton's brother?"
"Yeah. How did you know?"
Chip wanted to say the 'cute' family resemblance, but leaves it simple, "you look like brothers. Elton's fine. He's in the back office. I'm Chip. I'll be opening up, but will show you where he is in a moment."
"That's okay. You can point me in a direction. I'm sure to find it."
After looking upon Elton's bro, Chip allows opportunity to take its time, "it'll just take a second."
Eddie, anxious, a little perturbed about having to wait, second guesses his hurriedness and studies the lanky physique through the glass-panelled door.
Soon as the door opens, Eddie says, "where's the office, back there," he sees a restroom sign.
Chip still tested the open/close feature, but was a little disturbed by Eddie stepping aside, "oh, no, no, no," he blocks Elton's bro from entering, "you can't go back there without the proper store personnel."
Regardless of his haste to find Elton safe and sound, Eddie could not ignore the pair of hands against his pecs. Another quarter-inch in direction, they might have brushed over his nips. Though, Eddie could not deny how good it felt.
Being the wallflower he is, Chip couldn't believe how his efforts at being macho were keeping Eddie from walking past the register area.
For less than a minute all the two could do is pause, like they were waiting for a moment to pass.
Realizing the implications of his hands on another man, says, "sorry," withdrawing both palms.
Still caught in la la land, Eddie didn't have the words to express what his pecs were feeling right now. Sure, at home, his boyfriend knew how to get Eddie hard as a rock, thumbing nips, working them into a hardened state, but surprised that this 'nerdy' guy could achieve the same, Eddie renders, "uh, it's okay."
Then, Eddie couldn't feel it himself, the pleasuring of his pecs, but then gathered something amiss, Chip gazing from one side of the chest, the other side, then up into his face.
"What?"
Not used to this, Chip was lost for words, until figuring he better say something, "um, you're hard?"
"What?" Eddie shouts out!
This really made him scrutinize his front, actually pulling at the seam of his pants.
Chip, seeing where Eddie thought he was hard, says, "no, not there. You're shirt."
In a way Eddie was sorry he had left his suit jacket in the car. However, sure enough, it wasn't his shaft tenting his crotch, but the two pec spots tenting the top half of his shirt!
Lately Chip has been getting a little moxie with his gay self. With Eddie here, in addition to both hands pressed against the chest, he gets bold, "apparently you liked it?"
Almost reluctant to mention is, Eddie says, "yeah. What of it? A lot of men like having their nips tweaked."
"Tweaked?" Chip never heard it put that way, "is that what it's called?"
If he wasn't feeling it before, all this talk about his own nips was getting to Eddie, making he forget about why he was there, "you never heard of it before?"
Totally off subject, Chip says, "I can bounce my pecs?"
Eddie wondered what that was about, "and that has to do with this, because?"
"Well, when I was feeling up your chest, I have to admit I was getting something out of it, that my palms against your poundcakes, I was thinking I wish mine were as firm and solid as yours?"
Eddie wondered what that was about, though he couldn't probably see the whole picture, Chip with that vest hanging off his physique and in thinking it, getting a little horny at the same time, can't believe he's saying this, "is that a challenge, Chip?"
Chip didn't mean it that way, but by golly, there it was and being he had gotten this far, probably never having the guts to ever bring up the subject to another hot man, "if you're up for it?"
He bit his lip.
Eddie mulled it over. For certain, if he didn't follow through on this challenge, his crotch would never forgive him, "you're on."
Not believing Eddie was going to accept the challenge, Chip didn't have a backup, but like before, thinking he's gotten this far, "well, okay, um," he scratches his head, "I guess we can do this in the manager's office."
Going to the back of the store, Eddie was glad he asked, being taken to the opposite end of the 'rest rooms' sign. Too, it suddenly dawns on Eddie 'why' he was summoned to the store in the first place.
"Oh, is Elton back here as well?"
His hand was on the door knob, about a quarter into the turn, "oh, Elton."
His hand frozen on the knob, Eddie says, "well?"
"Elton. He's in here."
"Well, that's why I'm here, right?"
Chipster was dissapointed, "yeah, but what about?"
Eddie didn't forget. For sure, he was aching to see what was under that shirt and wifebeater Chip had plastered up against his pecs, but as Chip hand remained motionless, a hand on the inside began to turn it.
Soon Chip had no control, allowed his hand to drag him inside the office.
"Eddie, what are you doing here?"
Not wanting Eddie think he's a wimp, Chip says, "I called him. His name is on the personnel records as next of kin."
Eddie hugging his brother, it was more like waltzing Elton inside the management office.
Chip sure felt something, back against the inside frame of the door, feeling both men sideswipe his frontal region, it had him reacting in a low, soothing tone, "who-oh."
Then, seeing how the two brothers were acting like more than brothers behave, Chip kicks the door closed.
Self-realization, the two bro's break off the mouth-to-mouth lip massage, Eddie saying, "it's not what it looks like, Chip," he wipes his mouth off.
"Yeah," Elton says.
Speaking his mind, Chip says, "really? I was thinking of you more as lovers and not brothers," but second thought, "I didn't even know you were gay, Elton?"
Speaking up for his younger brother, Eddie says, "you're so straight-acting, who would've thought you were, Chip."
Elton says, "you're gay, Chip?"
Thinking it didn't matter at this point, "well, sure. Why not?"
Eddie, his dick still half-hard, "not only that, but Chip here likes to tweak up mens nips!"
Chip thought his face was flushed, embarrassed by the subject of touching other mens nips, but rather than cave, he exerts himself, "maybe so, but wondering about that challenge of yours?"
Elton looks at his brother, "what challenge, Eddie?"
Really, Eddie couldn't remember the exact circumstance or play on words, cutting to the chase, "that door locked?"
Elton, closest to the door, questions, "what's this about, Eddie?"
Walking towards Chip, Eddie, upon finding out his 'little' brother is in the clear, "just make sure it's locked."
Suddenly Chip loses all inhibitions, like unafraid of what Eddie is bringing on, saying, "what're ya gonna do?"
Not backing out of this, Eddie moves in, hands venturing behind the denim flap and finding what he never dreamed of, "what the hell, Chip?"
If Chip's chest was anything like the rest of him, Eddie was thinking, which had him quickly undoing the buttons of the pants flaps, allowing the straps to bounce over Chip's shoulders.
Frankly, not knowing what to do, Chip just stood there, allowing Eddie to strip him. He was kind of surprised, Eddie lifting his tee shirt up.
Soon as Chip's tee shirt was lifted, Eddie was plaining a hand over abs, "damn, Chip. I had no idea."
"I know," Chip says of his furry six, maybe eight pack.
Standing right there at his brother's side, Elton says, "me neither. You hide it well, Chip."
In the few passing seconds, Eddie lifts Chip's tee shirt off overhead, saying, "oh man, if I knew you were this ripped, I probably would never have challenged you."
Elton asks, "what is this challenge about?"
Good thing Chip knew the specifics, Eddie still gazing at the beautiful bod, contrary the vision he had with clothes on, "Eddie's hard nips."
"Oh," Elton says, "I can see where this is going. Let me warn you Chip. Eddie is a glutton for nip punishment."
He then laughed, which left his brother with his jaw flapping, "really, bro? Did you have to go there?"
Chip was fascinated, "really? Like how does that go, Eddie?"
Elton badgers his brother, "go on Eddie. Strip the shirt and show Chip what I mean."
Standing there like his will was the property of the other two, for controlling, Eddie starts loosening his neck tie, "very well."
It did cross Elton's mind, this maybe being a dream, Marc readying to stir him awake on the bus, but being his brother was using him as a holder for clothing, it made the situation seem more credible.
"Um," Chip says, "you've dropped your briefs?"
Not which Chip minded, Eddie's cock and balls out in the open.
Sticking a finger in the elastic of Chip's boxer briefs, "yup, and you're next!"
As Chip, without reluctance steps out of his briefs, Elton is shocked when Eddie says to him, "you wanna play with us, bro?"
It did occur to Elton, based on the surrounding environment, "um, aren't we supposed to be opening the store, Chip?"
Reaching in an overall pocket, Chip tosses the keys to Elton, "I guess you don't want to play!"
Eddie wonders, "you know how to open the store, bro?"
Way ahead of Elton, Chip says, "all you have to do is unlock the front door and flick the switch for the auto to kick in."
First customer of the day is someone Elton is very familiar with, "Randy?"
"Hi Elton."
"I've never seen you in here before?"
"Yeah, well, never have been in here before, but the yoga studio I work at sent me out for supplies and..."
And much as Randy would like to stand there a gaze upon his next door neighbor, "the rest, boring stuff."
Dreamily 'in love' with Randy, ever since meeting up with him on the doormat, Elton says, "I'm not bored."
"Oh. Okay," Randy was okay with that, "but I've got to shop and get back."
"In that case, let me make sure the cash registers are open for business and I'll help you look for what you need."
Now, Randy, if gone too long would not really be missed, so took his time. Much as he wanted to find things Tom put on the list, he much rather look over the top of the Dorito rack, stalking Elton as he checked things out. When he started to see Elton walk his way, he pretended to check out the ingredients of a bag of popcorn.
"Have you tried out the vinegar chips?"
"Uh. No. Good?"
Pulling a bag from the rack, Elton hands it to Randy, "here you go."
"But chips aren't on my list."
"Compliments of the store."
"Are you allowed to do that?"
Elton gloats, "being that I've been almost named manager of the store, I'm allowed to do anything I want!"
Suddenly they hear a loud clang, like garbage cans hit together.
"What was that?" Randy asks.
"Oh nothing," Elton didn't want to point the finger at Chip and Eddie, 'working out' in the manager's office, "probably a drop in the stockroom."
"I see. Well, here's my list of, and oh, before we get started, I wanted to mention, you have some happy customers at your store. One of them recommended I come here."
Elton says, "hm, I wonder which happy customer it is?"
"I often sub for one of the nude yoga classes. I've seen him a couple of times and I guess it must've appeared to him I was checking him out. He is kind of hot."
After gulping, uncomfortable with asking, Elton give in, "nude yoga? Like, they don't wear any clothes, not even underwear?"
"Nope."
"What about you?"
"Same. It's actually very comforable, once you get used to your meat slapping against the mat!"
Randy giggled, but Elton was more fascinated, "and is this a mixed class?"
"Sure. Young and older dudes take yoga."
"No, I meant, men and women?"
"Oh no, it's segregated. Actually, there's only male nude yoga. There haven't been any inquiries from women. Though, it's not unhead of for other yoga studios. Primarily, we're a man's yoga studio."
"Any guys," Elton pats his tummy, "like me?"
"Sure are," Randy says. Then, like he's making a sales pitch, "even more bulkier than you!"
"And they get naked?"
"Yup. Nude yoga isn't about vanity. There's no judgement. Fact is, I've seen some of the skinnier guys checking out men like you."
Knowing, because he's looked up his type on the net, Elton says, "cubs."
"Cubs?"
"Like in bear cubs?"
"I'm not familiar."
"Are the bulky guys hairy?"
Since he's scruntize every man in the class, Randy is quick to say, "yes. Is that a typical trait?"
"You know anything of the bear culture?"
After a giggle, because it sounded funny to Randy, "bear culture? Nope. Never heard about it."
Just then Randy's phone chimes, "hold it. I've got to take this."
It was Tom, adding some items to Randy's list.
While taking the call, Elton thinks on it, wondering how Randy looks in the nude yoga class!
After hanging up with Tom, Randy says, "I've got to get moving. Tom wants me to pick up a birthday cake for one of the trainers."
"Then we better check the dairy case."
"You've got birthday cakes here?"
"Ice cream cakes, if you need it?"
"Super," Randy says, following Elton over to the dairy case.
"Round or square?"
"Beats me," Randy says. "Why don't you pick?"
"I prefer square. Easier to cut."
"Then square it is," Randy chooses the same, watching Elton as he moves the cakes around in the refrigerated case, taking out a rectangular cake.
"Would it be impossible to have something inscribed on the cake?"
Cheerfully Elton says, "'impossible' is not in my way of thinking," especially since it was Randy asking of it!
"Super."
Exactly how Elton felt of Randy right now, which had him going beyond the call of duty to satisfy his every whim, "you want writing on the cake?"
"Sure. You have that service here?"
"I'll try my best, but it would be the first time I've written on a cake."
Randy's thinking was, anything which prolonged his shopping trip, "I'm sure it will be superb."
"Why don't you pick out some candles from aisle 8 and I'll meet you behind the deli counter?"
"Which is in which direction?"
"After the last aisle. Aisle 10."
"Got it."
Elton was happy with this chore, being it helped get his mind off of nude yoga! When he did arrive at the deli counter one of the other store workers was there, Elton saying, "Harry, you ever run deli before?"
"Haven't a clue, other than Jimmy used to remove all the salads and replace with fresh every morning."
In the meantime Randy shows up with the candles.
"What did he do with all the salads?"
Harry says, after giving Randy the 'once over', "threw them out, I guess."
"Throw out? You mean, all this food?" Randy says, hearing the tail end of the conversation.
Harry shrugs his shoulders, not knowing.
Totally out and no afraid to voice opinion, Randy says, "I know the gay pride center would love to have all this food. They have a homeless mission set up at the center."
Since Randy was out, Harry did something he's wanted to do for the longest time, "I heard about the pride center, but never have been there."
Randy knows the sign of reluctance, characteristic of closeted gay guys, but rather than put Harry on the spot, "well, if you have a way of getting all this food boxed up, we can take it over there?"
Harry was clean cut, but loved the look of long-haired guys, like Randy, "sure, if Elton won't miss me?"
Much as Elton would have liked to be the one to help Randy, designated the person to open the store, he didn't want to blow the chance to be officially be named store manager, "no. Go ahead. I can ask someone else to man the deli counter."
Randy says, "you don't mind?"
Getting crushy on Randy, Elton says, "nah, and when you get back I'll have the birthday cake all ready for you. Who's name should I have printed on it?"
"Marc. He's also the guy who told me about the store. Fact is, you might know him, since he mentioned your name."
"The only Marc I know if the bus driver."
"That's him. Another guy told me his name, saying he was a substitute driver. He also is a part time personal trainer at the yoga studio."
Elton felt a little hurt, Marc not mentioning that to him, but cut him slack, because he had to get to work, "oh."
Randy and Harry went to work on the deli case, Elton returning to his cake decorating. Squeezing icing out of tube and trying to concentrate on the writing was hell, trying to erase Marc from memory, thinking of everything the bus driver said, with no mention of nude yoga, let alone yoga itself!
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% Copyright 2023 T. Chase McPhee
Developing segments of ''YoGA MaTt' may not be amended, distributed, sold, used, quoted, paraphrased, chopped, sliced, diced, nor made part of any collection, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the author. Drones are prohibited from overhead viewing.
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