YoGA MaT' o1

By T. Chase McPhee

Published on May 29, 2023

Gay

% This work of fiction is set in the format of real-world situations. Identifying details to real people, alive or dead, is entirely coincidental in nature. If a character from this story happens to have the same first name, use it to your advantage and put yourself in his place. The author is not responsible for leakage.

% Countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing adult material'. It is up to you, the reader, to research this subject, abiding by laws and conscience. The pages of this story contain 'adult material', intended for an adult audience.' Bypass this warning at your own risk!

% If sexual scenes involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if dude-to-dude sex & related stuff makes you wanna barf or is gonna screw up your mind, you should not read this story.

% Sexual safety matters. Guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt!

% Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have over the years, consider adding some $upport for `internet $pace' or else I will have to start cutting handsome, hairy or steamy characters out of my stories. Do you dare imagine a story without any tops?

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html %

Give till it hurts...and if that's not enough, get with some s&m!

'YoGA MaT' o7

WriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

By situations unforseen, Randy and Nick would be delayed, before leaving the apartment.

Randy was already revved up, whereas Nick had lost the edge on their sexual romp in the sheets, after taking Elton's phone call.

"Ready to rock'n'roll?"

Even though his ass was aching 'for it', after Randy's finger played on the inside and outside of his a-hole, Nicks, "sorry, but I'm not really in the mood."

Randy's 7c was raging, but the solemn mood started to kill his erection, "why, what's wrong, babe?"

There was a flicker of warmth, Nick thinking, they only began hitting it off this morning an already he was Randy's 'babe'!

Snuggling down, lying flatline next to Randy, he runs a hand over Nick's shoulder, "you know you can share anything with me?"

Letting Randy know he had all intentions of doing that, "sorry I killed your joy."

Feeling Nick's shaft, running a hand up and down what was left of the hard on, Randy says, "that's okay. I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me?"

His little smile at Nick didn't raise his spirits much, other than what his dick was feeling, "thanks."

Cuddling up with Nick, Randy says, "so, what's all this about?"

Randy's bod was smooth, except for the dirty blond's massive amounts of hair on his head, which had been segregated by thin braidings, some in shades of red, purple or green, with no particular significance. They had just began to get into the heat of it, which made Randy's bare chest and abs glisten, braids moist.

Nick already knew Randy's shaft was powered up and not wishing him to blast off, toys with the braids, "Elton says the store is closed."

"Closed?" Randy knowing how Nick feels a little, economically, "well, if you can't afford your rent, you know you can stay with me?"

An hour ago Nick was thinking it, "I have a confession to make?"

"What?" Randy gives a little thumb rub, buts halts, thinking this might mean something about Nick wanting to break up!

"Frankly, I was waiting to see if we hit it off, then hit you with moving in together?"

Randy smiles, rolling over flat onto his back.

"What are you smiling about?" Nick caves part of his bod on top of Randy, slipping hands under the chest area, chin landing between pecs.

"Long story."

"I've got a long amount of time?"

Well, they didn't, forgot about dropping in at Marc's place.

"Tom, who is the business manager at Mat's Yoga Studio, is not only Mat's partner, but when I was down and on my luck, he set me up in a job at the studio and paid two months security deposit on the apartment I'm at."

"Generous. Any particular reason Tom was being so charitable, like having a man on the side?"

It made Randy smile, "nah. Nothing like that. Though, he is kind of hot. No, it's just the way Tom is, Mat too, since he gave me a job at the yoga studio, which previously was non-existant."

His meat rubbing against the sheet, Nick yanks himself up Randy's bod. Lying arm in arm on the bed, Randy more initiating the closeness, Nick says, "you wouldn't happen to know if he has any more of those non-existant jobs available?"

Smartly, Randy says, "I don't honestly know, but you're welcome to stay with me until you find out?"

They both had nicely chiseled bods, Randy naturally, Nick having to slave at the gym. Randy smooth, he loved to not only fondle meat and balls, but loved running a hand through hair on Nick's chest, the pre-cut trail down the sixpack, pressing a finger in and out of the deep, hairly bellyhole, on his way to the treasure.

Whereas he didn't tell Randy, Nick feels comfortable in sharing, "being I'm a month behind in the rent, I would be looking for a new place to crash, since my landlord, who I think is kinda homophobic, was always looking for a reason, other than cash, to throw me out."

Taking it literal, Randy bowls Nick over onto his back, covering up Nick with his own bod.

Nick wonders, "you're okay with that?"

"Oh, much more. In fact, as part of the free-rental agreement," Randy pushes Nick's legs apart with a knee, "I feel compelled to seal the deal."

It wasn't a matter of establishing a barter system of sex for rental space, Nick feeling more like he's been for the past half-day, "make sure you sign on the dotted line, landlord!"

Given the okay to divide and conquer, Randy lifts Nick's legs onto his shoulders, "if I'm going to be lifted these heavy legs every night, I might have to start going to the gym myself!"

"Lifting them every night," Nick quips, "you won't need the gym!"

In a way Randy was forseeing the same, especially with all the calories burned, pounding Nick's ass, "I'll be working up more of a sweat than working out at the gym!"

Whereas Randy was just embarking on a college career, at twenty-four, Nick had been in and out of higher education, still looking for that dream job. Working the meat counter at the green grocery had been a temporary move till he landed a corporate job. It had it's benefits, which he swears is the reason why 'male' clientele had increased, thinking married men had been sent there in place of their mates. A lot of those guys were dropdead gorgeous and as it pans out, Nick slept with a few. Now that the store was closed, Nick wondered what meat counter would those clients be shopping?

It's then Randy picks up on Nick's quaint smile, "what?"

"Nothing."

"No nookie until you talk!"

The whole reason Nick was thinking about that special aspect of his job, whereas he earned more than a paycheck, through after-hours selling of his own meat, with his legs up on the twenty year old's shoulders, "nothing really?"

Randy leaned back, his butt on the heels of his feet, waiting for Nick to fess up.

"Okay, but to make a long story short..."

His story was short, but the descriptive way Nick told it made Randy hornier by the minute, until he comes to the punch line, "so, as you can tell, I was always fucking men," he didn't know exactly how to word it, "I never got back what I gave, if you catch my meaning?"

"You're a virgin? At, how old are you, 30?"

"Really, Rand? Do I look that old?"

"Nah. I just would never make it as an age-guesser at a carnival."

"Twenty-four."

"Oh man, I was way off. My bad," it made Randy chuckle.

"What's so funny about that?" Nick pulls his head up by hands which were parked behind.

"I know it might seem to be I know what I'm doing, but you will be my first fuck. How am I doing?" Then, with quick soul-searching, "well, not really, but you would be my first fuck that didn't earn a meal or a place to stay while working my way across country."

It should've felt good to confess that, clearing the air about something he felt guilty about, but instead it stole Randy's joy.

Nick's legs began to sag, knees caving, "but it wasn't like those you fucked, cared about what it meant?"

Randy hadn't cried since his old man whipped him for the offense of being gay and now the tears had returned, "I'm sorry," Nick's knees fall off his shoulders.

Nick found himself not thinking it, same affection as Randy, "c'mon, baby, let's talk," beckoning him to lie down on top of him, with fingertips waving in his direction.

Randy wasn't thinking about what he believed would be, his smooth bod feeling up the folicles of Nick's dark-haired front. Instead all he felt were loving arms caressing him.

Really the first time they cuddled naked, Nick didn't pick up on it until now, the ripples on Randy's back, "what's this?

Randy had hoped with all his heart, if he were to meet a man in a serious way someday, my old man, when I told him I was gay?"

Nick lay there quietly, observing a feeling he hoped he would always find, the secureness of having a man lying in arms, legs alternating with another, pressing together manhood, with a feeling of togethernees, unlike for the sole purpose of sexual gratification, listening to Randy unload his feelings.

At the end of the grueling tale of Randy being tied down to a workbench, a distraught father whipping his son with his own belt, a plan hatched by rage.

"I was lucky enough a friend, Callum, skip school, to come find me when I didn't show up."

"So, this friend, Callum, he literally saved your life?"

"Truthfully," Randy sniffs, "I thought I was a dead man, the way pop kept hurling his belt against me with a vengeance."

Nick comforts, "all that is over with and now you're in a better place."

Nick was also thinking, so was he!

"Thanks."

To brighten the mood, Nick says, "you're welcome. Now how about taking my cherry?"

Randy wasn't in the mood, but Nick knew he wasn't either.

"Don't we have a barbecue to go to?"

Another time they would have to wait for Nick to get his cherry picked, but for right now, sucking Randy off in the shower sufficed!

%

When they got to Marc's place, the first thing Elton thought of is, "I thought you said you lived in a house?"

"I do."

"No-sir-ree, this isn't a house, this is a mansion!"

Marc giggled, not the first time he's tricked an individual into that he lived in a saltbox house, having them lay eyes on a multi-storied home on acres of property.

"You tricked me!"

Marc acts like he's been sucker-punched in the gut, loving the feeling of Elton's gesture to, 'punish', "I guess that means I'll be forever in your debt?" Hoping, lusting for punishment, Marc was hoping to start out with a forcefully hefty fucking!

Getting out of the car, Elton says, "you lied about the 2-car garage, too?"

"It may look like four, but two of the garages I use to store junk, but if you think I was lying, then you're welcome to punish me?"

"Why do I get this feeling you want it?"

"Oops," is all Marc shares for now.

It was strange to Elton, but the thought of Marc being off his rocker, psychologically impaired was not an issue, "I might be able to come up with something, that is if you're a good cocksucker?"

Of himself, Marc says, "oh yeah, work daddy over!"

With ten years difference between them, Elton's hormones were probably working beyond that of a thirty-three year old man, "are you sure you can take it, old man?"

Barreling his belly up to Elton's as they meet at the hood of the car, Marc says, "I'd love to do battle with you!"

Putting his fist in Marc's belly, sending a message by grinding knuckles in, Elton says, "I have more cushioning than you do!"

As if by hint, Marc moves his clenched fist to Elton's mushy belly, but then drops it down to where his five digits are ready to slip under the beltline.

Elton shuns it away, "not in front of the neighbors, Marc?"

"What neighbors?"

Sure enough, gazing across the street from Marc's house, there's no signs of a neighbor to be found, quizzing, "how far away is your next neighbor?"

"Including the gardener's cottage out back?"

"The gardener, is he hot?"

"He's my uncle, Davide."

Not much flack from Elton, "is he hot?"

"Want to meet him?"

"I guess that's one way to find out!"

But they got so tied up in Marc showing Elton his house, they never made it past the bedroom!

%

Several miles away Tom and Mat were wrapping it up for the day.

Locking the door, Mat walks to the car, falling into it, voicing opinion, "frankly, I'd rather be heading home to a quiet evening alone, Tom."

"Oh, not which I'm trying to change the subject, but there have been some complaints again about that sanitary issue of the yoga studio rooms."

Taking it with a grain of salt, Mat says, "same old Mr. Justice complaining about cum stains on the floor?"

"I can't really blame him."

Mat says, "you're right. I know right now Randy's time is being stretched at the studio, between his time there and classes at the college. Maybe you should be on the lookout for another, perhaps part time, guy to help him out?"

"Can we afford him?"

Mat says, "use your charm. Now, are we going to pick something up for this party?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"You know I always like to be bring two things to a party?"

"Even if the florist is closed, we can get condoms almost anywhere!"

The florist closed. Mat, he loves to shop in a particular place, so all it took was a phone call to make his shopping experience 'personal'.

Tom pulling up, cuts the engine, saying, "you want me to come in with you?"

"Don't ask a question for which you already know the answer, Tom!"

"Silly me," Tom switches the music to something more serene, allowing the electrical system to position him in a reclining position.

No sooner had Mat left the car and entered the florist, a car pulls up next to him. The two men who exit it, certainly gave Tom motivation to jack the seat upright.

Getting out of their car, the two stood there analysing whether the florist were open or not.

Tom felt led to help out!

"Roses? Carnations? What's your pleasure?"

They turn around to see Tom, shirt unbuttoned, exposing his fuzzy front, thin trail leading to his bellyhole, tucked into his pants, the trail, not the fabric.

In retrospect, the two guys are wearing college shirts, boasting of the local college's presence in the community, of which one says, "we're headed to a frat party and we know one of the guys likes orchids."

Okay, Tom is thinking, they aren't your run-of-the-mill bulked out atheletic type guys, but surely are cute, which has him hitting them with directness, "you two a couple or friends?"

The guy who didn't speak, says, "how do they always know, John? Is there something we are advertising that we don't know about?"

John smiles, "I am kind of curious, how you guessed we're together?"

As a forty-one year guy, Tom feels the giddiness of having another psychic ability work out to be true, "intuition, I suppose, but you two do make a lovely couple."

John says, "we're not romantically involved."

The other half, "yet," he squeezes John's hand.

Sexual orientation wasn't only Tom's expertise, "so, where do you two live, on campus?"

John takes the alpha role, "why do you ask?"

"Reason I'm asking," Tom gets to the point, "is those college shirts you're wearing seem to be the only new thing about you two."

The unnamed dude says, "maybe we should go, John."

John didn't budge.

"John?" his friend calls out, heading for the car.

Tom has already declared it ready for the junkyard heap!

"No, we're going to do this."

Tom gets alarmed, "you weren't planning on robbing the florist, were you?"

"No, nothing like that."

His friend badgers him again, "John?"

"Keep your shirt on, Phillip!"

There, Tom had the name of the other dude, but unsure of their motives, "want to explain what this is all about?"

Slowly John starts to explain, Phillip coming to his aid when the conversation gets cloudy, "what John is trying to tell you, in order for us to even be considered for membership in a fraternity, we have to leave our wallets in the car, go into the florist shop and in exchange for an orchid plant, offer to give the owner a blowjob."

With Phillip explaining, John says, "two blowjobs. One from each of us."

"I take it you know the owner of the florist?"

Phillip says, "no."

"We never met him," John fills in the blanks.

"So then, the frat brother who demands this of you, knows the owner to be gay?"

"He's gay?" John says.

Tom jokes, "well, if he's not, he's going to be kicking you both out of the shop on your asses!"

They smiled, taking Tom's joke as something funny.

Phillip then says, "none of our business, but why are you parked here, um."

"Tom," Tom says. "Waiting for the owner to give my husband a blowjob," he waits, in all seriousness for their reaction.

Not the one he intended, Phillip says, "you know the owner?"

John says, "do you think you can talk to him, get us inside, talk him into us giving him blowjobs in exchange for flowers?"

By the looks of everything about these two, Tom can guess they each probably didn't have more than thirty bucks in their pockets, pooled together!

"I got a better idea. Why don't you forget about frat life, get some decent jobs, whereas you can afford to buy flowers and start your lives on a solid track?"

Phillip bit a lip, John saying, "but we've been wanting to pledge when we got to college since we were kids."

"You've known each other that long?"

Good question, Tom standing there as the two unload their life history, beginning with meeting each other on the town swim team, both questioning why they were attracted to each other and not girls. Even without 'girls' in their life, they managed to keep their young love a secret, doing stuff like hiking in the woods, camping trips, mountain biking, meeting up with 'Ranger Rick'.

"Ranger Rick?"

Tom's mind really got inolved in their history, kicking it up notch by notch with sexy details which seemed to fill in a lot blanks.

He hadn't even gotten to chapter one of 'Ranger Rick', when Mat comes out of the florist, holding an orchid plant.

Tom says, "oh great, Mat. Another orchid plant?"

"It's all the manager had in stock at this time of the day," Mat never named names outside of the shop.

John says, "we'll take it off your hands, if you don't want it?"

Phillip claims, "but John, that would be forgery, or perjury, or whatever they call it, legally. The frats are bound to find out?"

While they had their spat, Tom tells Mat to get in the car. In three minutes flat he had told of the frat boys, their wanting to join up at the local chapter, the wager, sex for an orchid, ending with an unknown tale of a cat named, 'Ranger Rick'.

Not which they were opposed to anyone else, but Mat had a harrowing time himself, living up to a frat house's expectations, the zany and even dangerous things required of them, which made Mat quit while he was ahead.

Stepping out of the car, Mat uses the orchid as a bargaining chip.

Tom follows along, Mat explaining it in a way, making it sound like a trip to Dr. Dread's dungeon, rather than some innocent pranks.

"You can take this orchid and be on your way, or follow the path as to why students become enrolled in college. The real reason, not to have a good time in a way which could end the wrong way up. Trust me, I've been there."

Suddenly it was the beginning of their relationship all over again for Tom, recalling how, like Randy, he had pulled Mat back from living a life on the streets, living out of a dumpster for food. To this day Tom wishes he could save others, but the closest he can get to it is personal, on the spot encounters and funding for the local shelter, which provides not only a home, but counseling.

There could be a very serious side to Tom, "Mat's right. I've seen it for myself, young men with a vision of how dorm life can be, joining a fraternity and the downsides to it. The strong survive, but the weak usually wind up the unlucky ones."

John and Phillip huddle.

Tom says to Mat, "really?"

"Oh, sorry," Mat says, picking the potted orchid up from being set on the hood of Tom's spiffy roadster.

Showing no heart feelings, Tom says, "that's okay. I'll lick it spit polish clean later!"

"Ewe, you're gross."

Though Mat gets to thinking how nice it would feel to have Tom lick off his pubes!

The conference only lasts about a minute, John emerging from the two, "we get what you're saying, but..."

Phillip jumps in with, "we don't know where to start."

"We already talked to the frat brothers," John says.

Mat says, "where you start is not talking to them. Let them come to you and when they do you say you changed your mind."

"Yep," Tom agrees, "simple as that."

Phillip finally leads the way, "but they promised us campus jobs and we could really use them."

Tom knew he had to act fast, when it comes to the buck, "no problem. I can offer you the same."

He looks at Mat, but doesn't get the same reaction as when he was outspoken about giving Randy a job at the yoga studio.

"Part time, for each of you," Mat says, "and it's not some glorified job like standing at a counter greeting customers, or spinning a smoothie in a blender."

Tom knows what will really perk their interests, "yeah, you'll only be maintenance men, cleaning up men's cum after a nude yoga session."

"Nude yoga?" Phillip says.

Tom fuels their imaginations, "yeah, Mat runs a yoga studio. There's two mens nude yoga classes, which will soon be three, being the growing interest. I hope you're okay with being around naked men, on account of you both will be required to freshen up the showers during the day, while there remains the possibility you will have to view naked men in the locker room?"

John didn't hesitate, "dayam, I'm in!"

Mat says, "still want the orchid?"

They both refuse the gesture.

Tom isn't willing to let them go, baits his hook, "hungry, boys?"

Phillip looks to John, John back at him, both licking their lips, like lions staring at a lonesome sheep.

Mat says, "Tom means for food, not sex!"

Phillip says, "not what I, we," he points to John, then back to himself, "meant. We haven't," he looks to John, like for support.

"What Phillip means, we haven't had much to eat other than glasses of water since breakfast."

Tom can only guess, having been there himself, a long, long time ago, "since breakfast, how many days ago?"

"Um," John thinks on it, Phillip remaining silent.

Mat, jumping on Tom's side to the situation, "and if you can't afford a decent meal, how were you going to afford an orchid?"

Already knowing that, Tom says to his partner, "uh, Mat?"

"What, Tom?"

"Uh, same way you pay for your orchid, the barter system, if you know where I'm going with this?"

Of bringing up his own means of bartering, something which happened by chance months ago, Mat says, "really, Tom?"

Phillip breaks silence, "we tried paying for some school supplies on our credit cards at the beginning of the semester."

"You see," John adds, like one thought uninterrupted, "what we found out is they are cancelled."

Phillip, "our parents paid for our first semester of school."

"They would've gotten a refund, if they could."

"I'm lucky. My mom is still talking with me," Phillip cracks a little smile.

"Probably this wouldn't have happened if we didn't man up and come out before we left for college.

Phillip, "but we talked it over and thought it the right thing to do."

"Ditto," John ends their side of the story.

There were still many unfilled blanks, but Tom truly feels sorry for their dilemma, and used to hearing the same old sob story from many young people passing through town, "I feel for you guys. That's why Mat and I want to help you get a new, fresh start."

Phillip says, "we could both use a good meal, if you're still offering?"

What happened, years ago, prompts Mat to say, "I'll ride with them, you follow us."

Knowing this routine, whereas the first time they met not two, but three college guys in a car, one straight, the other two gay, when they told them to follow them, they got cold feet, took off and headed back to college. Later on, one of the gay frat boys showed up at the yoga studio, explaining they got scared.

"Sounds like a plan," Tom says. "I have an extra seat. Any takers?"

Phillip and John gaze at each other, communicating something concrete, based on before, when they pulled up at the florist. Only they would know one of them instigated conversation over saying how hot the guy in the car next to them was, John finally choosing to say, "I'll ride with you."

They might have been more serious about each other turning eighteen, each giving the other their first blowjob, Phillip on the receiving end of John's shaft, but feelings of being a loving couple wasn't part of the reaction. Though, the sex was great!

"Well, then come along John," Tom watches him round the hood of his sportscar.

Getting in, the first thing John does is sit there, sulking.

Tom says, "something the matter, John?"

"I hope we're doing the right thing."

He wasn't a psych major in college, but Tom had taken some course and through attending some psych sessions, practicing what he's learned in the field of lonely souls, has gained great insight into situations such as Phillip and John, not to mention Randy, "you know, no one can answer that but you, John. We take chances in life. With those chances come risks, but we don't gain anything by doing nothing."

"Wow, that's deep."

What John didn't say, is that from their car, when they pulled into the florist parking lot, being the passenger, he had a clear view of Tom from his side of Phillip's car. Now, inside, he was able to pan the missing parts of Tom's bod, from neck to where the rest of him disappeared into the seat of the vehicle.

On the other hand, as Tom revs up the engine, he's smiling on the inside, not immune to John's gazing...or grazing?

%

With the bedroom scene come and gone, Marc began on the party setup. They hadn't bothered dressing, except for the green aprons worn in the kitchen. By habit, Marc learned years ago how bad a burn a person can get, working nake, whereas even a pinhead sized amount of hot grease can make a guy jump!

Elton says, "oh? How high did you jump?"

"That's not the point," Marc says.

Being they were in the pantry, where the apron supply is kept, Marc gathers Elton up in a little pantry-smooching?

Randy sticks his head in, "oh, are we interrupting anything?"

Nick stood there next to Randy, a parcel of groceries in his arms.

His house, his pantry, Marc takes the lead, "oh no. We were just checking to see if I had on hand any marshmallow fluff."

Randy looks to Nick, "yeah, okay, well, Tom phoned and said to pick up something, so Nick and I stopped and got some ice cream."

Elton casually knew Nick, most recently helping Randy and him carry goods out to his truck, but still was kind of shy around guys, "hi there."

Like mental telepathy, Nick says, "oh. Hi there. You're the one who gave me the call about the store closing?"

"Yeah, that was me," Elton says. Certainly, he didn't forget Nick's hot chest, helping load stuff into his truck, trying not to get a boner!

With a soggy bag, Randy says, "okay, you two done shopping each other? Which way to the freezer?"

They could very well see the humongous steel-toned refrigerator dominating the kitchen layout, probably a freezer above or below, but it was more fun for Randy and Nick to check out the noise coming from the walk-in pantry!

"Right this way, fellas," Marc leads them to the steel-toned refrigerator, "and for your information, Randy, Elton and I weren't shopping each other!"

Right next to Marc was Randy, Nick slightly lagging.

Behind them, Elton brought up the rear, or rather was happy to be a follower, checking out Randy and Nick from his perspective. He smiled, thinking of how skinny a waist Randy had, but Nick, what a plump ass!

Nick turns to recollect his thoughts, "that's right, you were the guy who helped Randy and I haul food out to the truck."

At that moment, while Nick and Elton catch up, Marc and Randy are filling the freezer.

Tom and Mat bust in the kitchen door, "we're here!"

"Oh shit!" Randy gasps.

Marc and he become the focus of attention, a tub of ice cream slipping out of Randy's hands, dropping to the floor.

Splat!!

Marc would never blame Mat, his real crush on his partner, "by now you should know to knock, Tom?"

Tom walks over to Marc, edges around the smooshy mess on the floor, hugs him, giving him a big lip-to-lip kiss, "I love you too, Marc!"

"Okay, you're forgiven," Marc and Tom laugh.

They also carry on a silent conversation, about Randy cleaning up the ice cream on the floor, while bending, his lily-white ass crack showing!

Even though Mat is Randy's boss, on the job everything is professional, but outside the perimeter of the yoga studio, everything becomes casual, Phillip and John witnesses to their special friendship.

"Hey Randy," Mat hugs him, a swat to the ass, "how's things going?"

"You mean here or at the studio?"

"Now you know we don't talk shop," another whack to the fanny, "when away from the studio?"

"My bad," Randy says.

"Whew, hot in here," Mat says. "I can't wait to get out of these clothes."

Even though not the first time, Marc, down on one knee to clean up what Randy has missed, looks up to see Mat stripping off his shirt.

It's Tom who remebers the two young guys standing on the side, "oh, hey guys, this is Phillip and John."

What an oppotune time for Alton and Greg to join the crowded kitchen.

"Lucky us," Alton exclaims, "just in time for the strip show!"

Phillip and John's jaw drop, seeing these two hairy men walk in, stripped down to their nakedness.

Tom knows Alton, but not so much Greg, other than by name, so feels unashamed to walk over and with coddling his nuts in hand, hugs and kisses, saying, "oh yeah, get hard for me, baby!"

Alton breaks off, "in your dreams, Tom," swipes the massaging hand away.

It's then he introduces Phillip and John, as the college boys who have been given the slip by the parents back home.

"Oh, you poor dears," Alton says, taking them under his wings, by way of left and right armpits, "let me give you boys the tour of the place."

Alton used to know the former owners of Marc's house, before they moved out, leaving the house with a dirt-cheap price tag. He would've scooped it up for himself, but was happy with his modest apartment, mostly living out of other men's apartments while in between the line of duty.

First room off the room they just pass through, Alton identifies it as, "this is the hot tub."

Phillip and John are stunned as Alton leaves their sides, steps into the swirling water and with a plop and a splash, his pubes disappear into the watery mist.

He instigates thought, "don't be shy. This water here is very therapeutic."

"Really?" Phillip's tongue hangs at the side of his lips.

"Shy?" Tom interrupts, "not on my watch!"

The college boys watch as Tom enters, shirt already parted down the middle, strips it, tossing it to a pile of towels.

Because John rode with him to Marc's house, Tom singles him out, "don't tell me you've never been in a hot tub?"

"No," John says, focusing on Tom undoing his belt buckle, the saliva starting to build, "never."

The young men split, Phillip rounding the hot tub, as Alton engages in conversation.

"If you're needing some help?" Tom turns to face John.

Looking down the mineshaft between them, John says, "no."

However, Tom is on it, touching the tails of John's tee shirt.

With lifting the sides up, John says, "well, maybe I do," his attention turns from looking down, up to Tom's face.

Just in time to stop the action, Mat shows up, "Tom, honey, you're wanted in the kitchen?"

Mat takes over!

In the kitchen Tom finds another addition to the party. His reaction? "Wah-ow!"

Marc sets the introduction, "oh, Tom. This is Elton's friend from the store," he didn't say which one, the one they shopped or the one closed, "Sherman Sweetwater."

'How sweet, indeed,' Tom thinks, taking Sherman's big hand in his.

"Hey man," Sherman changes from inner city to countrified, "I mean, Tom, glad to meet you."

Elton, by his side, was amazed when Sherman showed up at all, at the back door, hauling a gift basket of crackers, meats and cheese.

With shyness, but direct, Sherman says, "I saw you and your friend come in, so followed you around to the back door."

Tom smiles, acknowledges it, but his mind on Sherman's backdoor!

"Not a problem. What can I do for you? I mean, welcome to the party."

A man of color, Sherman was born in Canada, but his family emigrated to the US when a baby. His father, an ambassador, or something of that sort, came with being brought up in an upper crust Washington D.C. type of environment. He and his father didn't see eye-to-eye all the time, but that didn't stop Sherman from living the life of a free spirit. His mom, who didn't care if he were gay or not, gave him her blessings, when he struck out on his own, after college, instead of following a pre-made plan his father intended him on following. Maybe the father had the means of providing, but his mother was also from a prestigious Canadian family, so held a lot of clout when reasoning things out.

Still, Sherman wanted to get out in the world, use his degree, do some good, even in an ordinary job, instead of a marble government building, like bringing a basket of finger foods to a party in an ordinary suburb of D.C.

"Where should I put this?"

Tom, his eye was on the big salami sticking out of the basket, knowing where Sherman could put it!

Elton calls upon one of those he knows, "Randy, have an idea of what we should do with Sherman's gift basket?"

Unknown to anyone but himself, Randy has often followed Tom and his thoughts around the yoga studio, especially in between nude yoga classes, which has him unafraid to say, "what do you think, Tom, will it fit up your ass?"

At the yoga studio, it could cause Randy to get fired, but being the casual party, "fuck you, Randy."

Regardless, Elton leads the way, taking it from Sherman, setting it on the kitchen island, tearing into the plastic, saying, "why don't you mingle, Sherman?"

For certain, seeing Randy in the buff, he knew where he wanted to gravitate!

He started in Randy's direction, resigning to 'why not?', but Randy, with a bowl of chips, exits through a door which he didn't come in. The whole physique, slim guy, nice ass, back, etcetera, compells Sherman to follow.

"Hey guys, chips?" Randy says, entering the spacious hot tub area.

Phillip wasted no time stripping down, dipping himself in the swirling warm water of the hot tub, finding an empty seat next to Alton.

John chose to stand and watch, even though his shirt began to stick to his skin.

There was no interest in chips at this point, but John accepted Randy's forced order, the bowl shoved into this midsection.

Without further ado, Randy heads for the hot tub, and because he already knows what hot water can do for a guy's erection, "here goes nothing, I guess!'

Dipping his whole self under the water, he stands, water rushing over his whole bod, the strands of his braids dripping wet. Like a dog he shrugs his bod around, the locks swinging with the motion of the twist.

"Damn you!"

He laughs as Alton and Phillip turn to each other, to escape the watery residue.

Speaking to the dude next to him, without mentioning a name, John says, "awesome!"

What he was zeroing in on, but not saying also, was Randy pushing his hair back, which had his bod concave backwards, making everything up front jut out in front of him. Maybe not too much out in the gay world, like any gay man, he was not immune to a long shaft and hefty, hanging balls!

On the other hand, Sherman was more enthused by what his mind was settled on, since entering the hot tub room, "I agree."

"What?" John says, turning his attention roundabout.

"Awesome," Sherman says, smiling.

John didn't get it right away.

"Meaning, you...are," Sherman says, thinking he's already fumbled making a first impression.

It's then John makes the connection, pointing, "hey, aren't you on the college swim team?"

"Basketball," Sherman says, "but hey, yeah, I am. You've seen me play?"

"Um, no," John says, like he was trying to apologize, "I must have you mixed up with another guy."

He didn't resort to some other 'black' guy, being he was brought up by recognizing everyone as being equal. That is until coming out to his parents, finding them not thinking everyone in the world is equal, according to them!

Being Asian, sometimes John had felt how predjudice works. Right now he wasn't thinking this way or that, but of the man in front of him.

"I like your shirt."

Looking down himself, Sherman says, "I didn't go to Hawaii. My mom brought it back for me, while on one of my father's business trips."

"Me neither, been to Hawaii. My mom says our ancestors are from there. Someday I'd like to see it."

The same, regarding race and equality, Sherman says, "your shirt. It's soaked through."

Pinching his college shirt at the stomach, John stretches it out, "yeah, I guess it is."

Taking the tales he tries uplifting it, but it only goes as far as removing it from over his stomach, revealing his navel and thin tummy trail.

"Want some help?" Sherman signals John to turn around.

He turns around, as Sherman's hands are assisting him, turns back around front, his soaky shirt coming down over his head, "I think it's stuck," but when it's pulled down over his face, "unstuck."

When he walked into the sauna-like room Sherman's eyes focused immediately on the handsome face. Following, revealing the sweaty-haired bellyhole, gave him a taste of wanting to see more. Now, revealing the whole picture, scattered hair on John's chest, the full trail to the beltline, there's more beauty there than any man he has every laid eyes on, "you're so...beautiful!"

Looking to the left and right, John exclaims, pointing to himself, "who, me?"

Sherman can't help, seeing how cute John is being, "yes, you!"

"You. You think I'm beautiful?" John laughs it off.

Hinting, Sherman says, "beautiful enough to touch."

"Serious?"

Sherman smiles, saying, "you don't think you're worthy enough for another man to think of you that way?"

Drawing off of historic value of friendship, John says, "Phillip and me, we're the only ones who have ever touched each other."

Looking to Alton and Phillip on one side of the pool, the blond with the braids facing them, Sherman says, "is Phillip one of those guys?"

Rather than dillydallying around, John smartly calls out, "hey, Phillip?"

Turning around so that his massively hairy chest faces his friend, "what, John?"

John smiles, saying, "nothing," but turns to Sherman, "that's Phillip."

Figuring, if John doesn't know by now, this will set the record straight, "your friend Phillip, he's a very good looking man."

"Thanks. Someday I'll let him know, but for right now, what were you saying about 'beautiful enough to touch'?"

Both friends had inherited the trait, when not knowing the answer to something, stood there with the tip of their tongue at the side of the mouth touching lips, leaving the person they are talking with, to lead in with the information sought out.

Taking the bait, Sherman starts at the top of his shirt, working the button loose, "it is getting kind of warm in here."

He uses it as an excuse to unbutton his shirt, but when it comes time to peel it back over his shoulders, "uh, would you mind helping me?"

At the sight of Sherman unbuttoning the Hawaiian flavored shirt, separating it to reveal dark skin with even darker hair, patterned just so over his pecs, stomach, the deep innie, hair all around it, it got John's shaft moving!

"Wow. You're like, awesome, Sherman."

It did feel kind of weird, removing a 'buttoned' shirt, being with Phillip, more than a dozen times they had peeled tee shirts off each other, sometimes slowly, other times in a frenzy.

One thing John notices, in Sherman turning his back to him, even though he stood at 6-feet, 2-inches tall, face to back, they matched up almost identical.

Sherman's shirt falls right into John's hands, "wow, you have a nice back, Sherman."

When Sherman turns, the picture gets rosier, Sherman saying, "and the front?"

It seemed like Sherman's frame outmatched John's swimmers build, but staring into each others eyes, it didn't phase either one.

Smiling, with a nervous giggle, John says, "hey, would it be alright if I touched you?"

Hands up and ready to touch, he waited for Sherman's decision, but instead John was totally thrown off balance by a set of dark hands reaching forward, taking him up in a full hug.

"Oh. Wow," John reacts to feeling Sherman's bod crush against his.

He separated himself only by an inch or so, keeping hands against John's back, "are you okay with this?"

"Uh," John thinks for two seconds, "yeah."

"Then," Sherman says, "would it be alright if I kissed you?"

"Um. Yeah."

One kiss led to two. Two to three. Then too many to count, John getting into it as much as Sherman.

Meanwhile, in the hot tub, Phillip was much further on than his pal, having taken to sitting on Alton's lap.

"Comfortable?" Alton asks.

Randy, he just lay back, hand on his dick, watching the free porn!

"Probably not as much as if we were dried off and you sitting on my lap?"

"I didn't realize you country boys could be so frisky."

"John and me, we've been friends for a long time, went through a lot of shit together. He's more the settle down, quiet type. But me, I like to rock'n'roll, if you know what I mean?"

Alton was slowly giving in to Phillip's rough charm, "I know exactly where you're coming from," so much so, he stands, catching Phillip under the pits, "I tend to like my rock'n'roll mixed with a little jazz!"

Randy, with almost the tip of his 7c sticking out the water, has stroked it up into a monster, "oh come on, guys?"

Nick, who has wandered out to the hot tub, says, "got a problem here, babe?"

"Oh, a very big problem, I might add," Randy laughs.

In no time Nick has jumped the wall of the tub.

Passing by John, embracing another, being led off by Alton, Phillip says, "see ya around, buddy."

Their bods touching, almost crushed together, John breaks off the kiss to peer over Sherman's shoulder, "I wonder where they're going?"

Thinking John totally naive, Sherman doesn't want to ruin what he already has going, "probably to get to know each other better."

"Really?" John says, furthering, "to me, it looks like they're headed somewhere to have sex!"

Sherman takes John's cheeks in his hands, not roughly, but with softness, "just proves."

"What?"

"You're not only beautiful, but smart."

John earns another kiss, which afterwards, "man, you like to kiss alot, don't you?"

"I do, but also like other stuff."

"Like what?" John asks, his hand finding Sherman's stiff dick, fondling it with one hand, the other cupping one sac in the other hand.

"Oh my god, John!"

Shooting him a toothy grin, John says, "what?"

"You."

"What about me?" John replies, all innocent like.

Both about the same height, athletic, a swimmers build compared to basketball, it still left Sherman with the advantage, John's suggestion-like rhetoric, seemingly giving permission to sweep him off his feet.

"Whoa, what's up with that?" John says, feeling their bods pressed together, forcefully.

'This, you mean," Sherman places John's bod on a cushy sofa lounger.

Whereas they were comparably the same in stature, with Sherman standing there at the foot of the lounge chair, John is right in his assumption, minutes ago feeling up cock and balls, "wow, you sure have got me beat!"

Holding his hard shaft on the palm of his hand, Sherman jokes, "what, this? I might be bigger, but you've got more than I've got in brain power," he slowly walks, straddling both John and the lounge chair.

Perceiving what he thinks it looks like, John says, "no way I'm going to fit that monster in this mouth," he points to his open orifice.

"You're not so puny youself, you know?"

What he expected didn't materialize, John exclaiming, "wait, what are you going to do, Sherman?"

At this point, neither man really cared to talk about, Sherman squatting down, handling John's erection, then leaning his head over to take a slurp.

"Oh shit," John bends his bod concavely, feeling like he's going to pancake the chair he lounges against.

More than surprised, Sherman gets a mouthful, with John's protruding seven inches prodding his throat.

Suddenly falling backwards, Sherman coughes.

"Did I do that?"

Even though John has either jerked himself off, or been given a hand job by Phillip, or worked to completion by his buddy's lips, he's never thought of himself as the guy with a type of cock that could lead to choking.

Shifting around to where he sits on the side of the lounge chair, legs hanging over, John conveys, "are you okay, Sherman?"

"Of course," he remains modest, spattering and sputtering, with a cough here and there, "that's some horse you've got there!"

It made John laugh, "horse?"

John had to do a physical check, holding his cock in hand, summarizing, "yeah, I suppose I'm kinda big."

Getting off his butt, rolling over onto knees, Sherman says, "fuck me."

"What? You want me to fuck you?"

This was moving quite fast, John unable to comprehend, when in reality, he thought it could lead to the other way around, "you want me, to fuck you?"

In the hot tub, Nick had taken to sitting next to Randy, after being nodded at by his boyfriend. Together, side by side they had traded off, hands to each other's shafts, submerged under warm water, but still hard as the rock of Gibraltor.

It's Randy who's insistant, "c'mon, out of the tub."

Without saying, Nick takes Randy's lead, but instead of heading for a lounge chair they take to a towel laid out on the marble flooring.

Randy says, "your turn to choose."

Last time, which was last night, Randy chose to fuck Nick.

"Um," Nick says reluctantly, "no, you pick."

Sort of in an alpha tone, something Nick has slowly been warming up to, "get on your stomach."

He prefers last night's position, "okay if I lay on my back. I kind of don't like having my junk smashed through the floor?"

With Nick sitting there, Randy standing, keeping himself hard, "whatever, dude."

As if he's ready for pushups, Nick lays back with hands behind the head, legs raised, all ready for Randy to take him on.

Much in the same fashion, Sherman has taken to the same positioning as Nick, except in the lounge chair, clutching the top padding with both hands, flaunting his thick-tufted pits, "how do you want me?"

"I dunno," John says.

At twenty-four years old, Sherman has never had a man take his cherry, but to earn some extra college money, took it on as a business, charging for 'taking', "don't worry about it then. Let's just cuddle. When the right time comes," he thinks on it a second, "it'll be the right time."

John admitted to himself he didn't want to fuck Sherman just for the sake of doing it, that maybe there had to be more purpose, "yeah, you're right."

That settled it for Sherman, thinking of this as not a spontaneous act of having sex, that maybe John wanted more out of this experience than rash decision making, "it's right for both of us."

As an Asian man, John thought his partner in life would be another Asian man. Coupling up with Phillip dashed those thoughts away. In another thinking, he's glad, paving his way to not feeling reluctant at touching Sherman, kissing, feeling their bods next to each other, cuddling.

There was one thing bugging John, "you know I've only twenty years old?"

"Living with a twenty-four year old man, would that bother you?"

"Wait. You said 'living' with you?"

"Not right now, if that scares you, but maybe someday?"

John never felt this strongly about anyone, regarding loving thoughts, "no. Right now is fine. I think."

Sherman admits things moving fast, "let's take it slow and build on that."

"Agreed," John cuddles in the pit of Sherman's arm.

%

% Copyright 2023 T. Chase McPhee

Developing segments of ''YoGA MaT' 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.

_ Check here that you are not a robot.

Next: Chapter 8


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