Date: Tue, 30 Aug 2005 08:07:52 -0700 (PDT) From: Bradford Dean Bigelow Subject: Writer's Block 07 The following story is a work of fiction set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature, and is not meant to accurately reflect persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas, in which the story is staged. If sexual scenes involving male to male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this by law. This is fiction. Don't forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety matters'; got condom? "Writer's Block" 07 written By Bradford dean Bigelow % "Are you going into the shower first, or do you want me?" "How about a mutual shower, Blockhead?" "Now why didn't I think of that, Chase-baby?" Our shower time was monopolized mainly by our prior evening's playtime and wonderful dinner party. "Oh damn!" "What's the matter, Chase?" "I left the toy bag at Bobby's and Tony's." "I'm sure it's still there." "I know, but I wanted to make sure Bobby added the extras?" I smiled, looking to Chase-baby's face, as my right index finger poked inside my navel, reminding me of the dowel stick that inhabited it. "Oooooh!" I sighed, my eyes shooting downwards. "Sensitive, Brad?" "Still, yes. Some." Then, as if part of an erotic move on my part, to seduce, Chase-baby turns from the shower doors and approaches, placing his soft hands on my arms, moving them up and down. "Did you enjoy you're 'kinky' evening, Brad?" "Yes, I did," I smiled back. "Really enjoy it?" Chase-baby could be a slick fast-mover. Before he finished his question and I could register an answer, he had displaced my finger from my navel and inserted his own pleasure weapon. "Oooooh!" I groaned, my lips resembling a Cheerio. "Hmmmm... and after all that hot wax, then Bobby's dowel stick, I figured you'd be ready for the 'B-treatment', Brad?" "Are you talking Bacitracin or Bengay, Chase-baby?" "Hmmm... I think I eyed up both in your medicine cabinet Brad. Um, the Bengay wasn't there before. Now where did 'that' come from, Brad?" "Hee heee," I giggled, like making a request, "I stopped at Rite-Aid on the way home yesterday. "Oh?" Chase-baby replied, dropping his hands, then turning, opening door number three of my medicine cabinet, to find the highly sought after prize, as if on 'The Price Is Right'. I wasn't totally sure about all this, but I remembered yesterday, while holding the tube of Bengay, in Rite Aid, on the cashier's line, the small, long box in my hand, felt stirring down below. If I was buying the hot cream for my back, I wouldn't have batted an idea. However, I remember scratching my head, hoping nobody knew the real purpose for my Bengay purchase. Oh course people around me, especially the mean looking guy with the goatee, wearing the black jacket, knew I was making the purchase for an aching back. In a reverie, waiting for a price check, three customers ahead of me, I fantasized that the dark-haired guy was a gay, sadistic motorcycle top and held me his prisoner, taking the tube of Bengay and massaged it into my nips and navel. When I stood there, hearing, "Next, please?...Next! Please!" I felt embarrased a million times over, when that evil motorcycle dude said, sweetly, "You're next." Looking three feet ahead of me, the customers had checked out and left. Did I feel like a blockhead, hoping nobody noticed the semi-erection. Fortunately I needed a pack of computer paper and that afforded me the means to obscure the view! "Brad, do you or don't you?" "Do I or don't I want what, Chase-baby?" "Never mind blockhead. It's obvious that youre mind is a million miles away." "Oh, sorry Chase-baby. Something at work." I don't know why I didn't mention the truth, regarding my shopping experience for Bengay. I betcha he would have found it humorous. Worst part is, that before I knew it, I had lost my chance at having the Bengay massaging my navel and Chase-baby already entered the shower. 'Rats'! "Heeeeeey! I thought we were going to shower together?" "I'm done, Bradford. I've got to get our dinner on the table. Maybe you have time to daydream, but I've got an article due in the mail tomorrow." Chase-baby's neatness rubbed off on me. Cool that once in awhile one of my good ideas rubbed off on him, as he dabbed the towel over his body. "Here!" "You're not mad at me, are you Chase-baby?" "No. Sometimes I wonder what you're thinking, that's all, Bradford." Was I in the dog house or something here? I took my shower, solo, not entirely void of the scene with the Bengay, so did wind up jerking off, pretending that nice man, probably straight, having me tied out eagle-spread, torturing me with the Bengay, until the drainage water mixed with the thick, greyish fluid. I dabbed off quickly, threw on some boxer shorts and headed for the kitchen. "Can I help you with anything, Chase-baby?" I asked, after sneaking up behind him, at the stove, as he stirred the spaghetti sauce, my lips close to his ear. "Do you think you can stay out of trouble, draining the spaghetti and running cold water over it?" I smiled, still wondering what the bug was up his ass. "Chase-baby?" I inquired, as I dumped the potholder held pot into the colander, lodged in the sink. "What?" "Are you mad at me?" "No." "Are you sure you're not mad at me?" "No." "Then why are you giving me the OWWWWCH OOOH OOOH OOOH!" "What'd you do?" "Oh shit! The water got me... splatted right on my belly!" "I don't doubt it. Let me see. Drop that into the sink for now, Blockhead!" I could tell it a superficial wound. If it had been a serious hot water burn, third degree or higher, I'm sure Chase-baby would have been on the phone, dialing 911, instead of rubbing his sweet fingers over the little red spot under my belly fur, with an ice cube from the freezer. "The Bacitracin?" I asked. "Come on," Chase-baby said, leading me by the hand, back to the jon. Sitting there on the closed toliet seat, slouching, I watched my belly getting doctored up. Seems like he avoided getting close to my navel. "Why don't you do my navel too, while you're at it, Chase-baby?" "Not now, Bradford. We have to eat. The spaghetti's going to get cold. I don't know what you're going to do while I'm gone to the Writer's Convention for a week?" "But the spaghetti is supposed to be. That's why you told me to rinse it with cold water, after dumping it, Chase-baby? Hey, what Writer's Convention?" He looked down at me, as I looked up, giving him that smile, like I'm right for a change. "Don't you get smart with me, Bradford D. Blockhead Bigelow!" "Owch!" "I told you about that convention last month." "Yeah, I remember, but do you have to go, Chase-baby?" "Yes, I 'have' to go, Brad." I smiled, watching Chase-baby leave, the tube of Bacitracin tossed on my belly, along with the cap. I lay there, sprawled on the toliet seat, taking the cap and twisting it on, before the Bacitracin got all squished out, under it's own pressure. Then it hit me. The cap on the Bacitracin seemed to be the same size as my navel. Or wasn't it? I just had to find out. Taking the tube in my hand, I held it upside down, the cap pointing towards my bellyhole. Leaning forward, I peered down the long hallway, to make sure nobody watched. Then I quickly stabbed my navel with the top of the tube. "Oooooooooh!" I sighed, jabbing the top of the tube of Bacitracin into my navel. It entered with no resistance, being smaller than my bellyhole rim. The cap, rivited on the sides so that it's easy to unscrew, turned round the inside, as my hand twisted the whole tube, grinding against the inside of my bellyhole. It felt great, until the cap came off. "Oh shit!' I said to myself. Now I had to fish around inside my navel, to pull the cap out, as the Bacitracin had oozed out, adding to the royal mess. "Having fun are we?" Looking up, having my hand caught in the honey pot, I looked at Chase-baby, standing there in his green Volcom sweat pants, arms folded across the plain white apron, looking down at me, pathetically. Grinning back, I said, "Oh! Hi there!" My gooey fingers still tried taking the Bacitracin cap out of my sticky, hairy bellyhole. Motioning with his head, my Chase-baby suggested, "Maybe you should try the plunger, Blockhead?" As quick as he suggested, Chase-baby had disappeared, his words in his dust, "Dinner is served!" Utilizing the plunger did sound erotic, however my tummy, growling must've provided the incentive, kicking in my CEO brain cycle. I stuck my pinkie in my navel, right into the cap. A little twist and I plucked it out, screwed it back onto the gooey tube, wiped it with some toliet paper, cleaned myself up and reported for dinner. "Ooooh, doesn't this look nice. What's the occasion, Chase-baby?" Of course, the dinner table didn't look much different than any other night, other than the variety of cuisine. "The occasion," he stalled, looking up at me, "is we're celebrating the clearing of your navel before the food gets cold!" Okay, so Chase-baby had to rub it in. Fortunately, he accepted the ritual kiss on the lips, before I sat down, placing the linen napkin on my lap. Then I got hit with it. "Where's your shirt?" Why couldn't my Chase-baby remind me of the etiquette before I parked my rump on the chair? So, I ventured back into the bedroom, grabbed a buttoned down shirt and reported back to the kitchen, all but fastening the top two buttons. "Oh, you look much more presentable and...." I waited, sitting, for the 'and', before asking, "And?" "Sexy, with your chest hair paved across the opening?" Whatever bugged my Chase-baby, I accepted the explanation that my sexy body was weakening his immunity to my clumsiness. "And you?" Looking down upon himself, he reached behind his back, untied the apron, tore the little binding over his head and then neatly folded it over the extra chair. Like me, Chase-baby had a buttoned down shirt on. "Oh, but you only have one button undone, Chase-baby." Shaming him, I badgered, "C'mon now. What's fair is fair!" Turning sexy, he backed up a little in his chair, so that I could take on the full view of his wild body. Working at the second button on his Forzieri dress shirt I had given him last year for his birthday, taking his time with the button that intersected with the pink stripe. My cock twitched, in anticipation of a fuller view of that blonde hair that covered my Chase-baby's chest. Fur that I knew by tongue-touching, tasted so good. Maybe my hand twirled the forkful of spaghetti on my plate, but my palate salivated, wanting to take in the strands of chest hair, tasting the luscious follicles. That nasty, mean ogre played the buttons to the hilt, causing me unbearable grief! "So, you going to tell me what you dreamed about in the jon, Brad?" "Huh?" I hadn't even realized Chase-baby had unbuttoned his button and forked his own spaghetti on his plate. In my mind, I held in front of me, my own forkful, his delicious blonde chest hair all wound up on my fork, readying to be placed in my mouth! "Bradford, I'm starting to worry about you." I put the fork of spaghetti down, as he placed his hand on my forearm. "What's with you lately, Bradford?" I could tell, like a father and son 'talk', this was working into a serious discussion. At this point I proved to myself that I probably needed to talk it out. "I'm not sure. I have all these thoughts all of a sudden, Chase-baby." "Like what, Brad?" "The kinky stuff. I mean. I'm getting really hyper over having my body.... used. Know what I mean?" "Somewhat. I know at Bobby's and Tony's, you had gotten all hyped up over our play." "Yeah, but you hardly used anything in the toybag that you showed me, Chase-baby!" I didn't mean to, but I think I made my Chase-baby feel embarrassed. "Sorry," I later added. "I had a feeling this would happen." "Really? What makes you say that Chase-baby?" "It's not like I haven't seen it before, or even so foreign as to think that it hasn't happened to me." "Like how do you mean that?" "Well, for instance, Brad, I can remember my first experience with bdsm. For months afterwards, I had been so excited that my crotch wouldn't let me forget about it." "Aha! That's 'exactly' what I'm feeling, plus." "Oh? And what's the plus, Brad?" Who was the embarrased one here, now? "You." "Me, Brad?" "Yeah. I want to be with you so bad, Chase-baby and you... your body turns me on so much that sometimes I feel like I can't get enough of you." Happiness filled me, as he began to smile. That embarrassment seemed to fade. "I think I have an idea to help us both out." "Oh? And what would that be Chase-baby?" "There's a camp I know of that caters to bdsm and..." "Can we go?" "That didn't take much convincing now, did it, Bradford?" "Oh. Sorry. Hee heee... go ahead. Tell me about it, Chase-baby." As we chomped down our spaghetti, Italian bread, which happened to be a recipe Chase got from Tony, it being a favorite recipe in the family, from the early days when they owned the Italian restaurant, he mentioned all the in's and out's of the camp located in the foothills of the desert southwest. "Hey, have I got an idea!" "What's that Brad?" "Why don't we make a vacation out of it, Chase-baby?" "As much as I love you, Brad..." "You love me, Chase-baby? Cool!" "I must, having to put up with all your shenanigans!" Now that didn't strike me as right, but I let it slide. "Brad, I think it best that you go by yourself." "With..without you? Why? What makes you say that?" "Because, Bradford...." I knew something serious here was ready to go down. "It's not the type of atmosphere that would be good for us, as a couple, to go to." "I don't getcha, Chase-baby." "Finish your dinner and then I'll show you the website on the the computer, Brad." I wouldn't doubt that I'd get indigestion, from the way I woofed the rest of my dinner down. Chase-baby warned me, too. However, he did make a concession, placing the dishes in the sink to soak, instead of completing the process of placing them in the dishwasher. "Here, Brad, you sit here and study this website." I sat down in front of the monitor, after Chase vacated the chair, heading out of the den. First I checked out the web addie: http://www.basictraining4pain.com. Sounded to the point. Solely from the URL, my cock began to throb, making the connection from the rhyming of 'train' and 'pain'. I could draw my own conclusions about where the training and paining would be, on my body. Sure enough, as I read on the home page, then followed links throughout the website, I answered my own questions, as to where on my body, that focus of the basic training would be in effect. Some of the pictures phased me as mediocre, but other's made me gulp, as being a bit barbaric, yet all excited the hell outta my cock! One of the pics, a guy totally nude, had been tied eagle-spread to a frame, completely in the nude. Attached to his nips. two clamps, the chain weighted down. The caption read: 'We don't have problems... we have problemsolvers!' On that one issue alone, my cock throbbed! Other pics showed guys lined up, of course without clothing and then areas of the basic training camp, a beautiful lake, canoes, a swimming pool, a volleyball field, with guys playing the game, a flapping cock here and there. Then I clicked on an option that asked for previous campers' comments. After viewing the hunk with the hairy, sagging pecs, there would be comments like, 'I went to hell and back', however none appeared to faintly resemble that. Instead, comments, like from 22yo Adam C., from Roanoke, Virginia, stated: 'I went there a real wimp and came home a man. I'm going back next year and taking my wimpy big brother.' 38yo Wade Chakiris, from SoCal, commented, 'The atmosphere was strenuous, but I found strengths I never knew I had. I can't wait for the next season to begin!' There even was a comment from an older guy, 49yo Gary Rodgers, who commented, 'I wasn't sure, because of my age that I'd be able to compete with the younger set, but found myself running right alongside the twenties and thirty year old's and winning. After eight weeks, my beer belly was gone and I've learned to toughen up.' The last comment, from a graduating high school senior, 18yo Jose Rodriquez, stated, I wasted my last year of high school, almost failing, but my papi cared enough about me, to get me on target. Basic Training Camp did that for me. I'm totally ready for my first year of college. Thanks papi and thanks BTC!' With raves like that, I couldn't wait to get there. The only thing that bothered me, was going without my Chase-baby! "So, what do you think, Bradford?" "It...it looks good, but..." "What?" "I'm going to miss you something fierce, if I go Chase-baby." "Think about it though, Brad, it's eight weeks that will help you cope with the rest of your life. Did you read the comments from the other campers?" "Yeah. They're great. Looks like they had a good time and came away with a good experiences that helped them to.... yeah, you're right Chase-baby. I should go." "I also have another idea, Brad." "Oh? And what would that be?" "It seems that Bobby has been having the same problem with Tony." "Hey! Maybe Tony should go too!" "Hmm... I guess we are destined to be a couple, Brad. Reading my thoughts, are you?" I didn't think it took a rocket scientist to figure out what my Chase-baby tried to get across, but I figured he was right, in a way. We both did think the same thing. "Um, are you going to mention it to Bobby?" "Sure. I'll take care of that, Brad." "Maybe somebody should say something to Kareem." "Now that might be a good idea. Yeah, Brad, why don't you." "Me? I thought you could do it, Chase-baby." "Oooooh no. Kareem has bothered both Bobby and I enough. If he wants to experience kinky stuff, like you and Tony, he has to find his own top." "I guess Tony and I are lucky, aren't we?" "My brother, Luke used to say, 'things don't happen without a reason', Brad. There's a reason why I wound up with a loving guy like you, Brad." "Ooooh, that's so sweet, Chase-baby." "Yeah, plus I love sinking into a hot hole!" I took that as a hint and shut down the harddrive! % The next morning, we got up, Chase-baby making me coffee, French toast, I suppose to go with the French kissing and cut up fresh fruit salad for us. "So, it's okay if I go over, right after work and talk to Kareem?" "I thought you wanted me to handle that, Brad?" "No, I can do it. Exercise some of 'CEO' skills." "Well, be careful Brad." "Of what?" "Kareem might try seducing you with those chocolate nips!" "Mmmmm.... I've had my eye on those dark brown delights since he's moved in here." "I know you have, Brad and you know what would be kinky?" "What's that Chase-baby?" I figured I was up for some more hot nip play or something in that vein. "Why don't you turn it around, try to seduce Kareem and taste those chocolate truffles?" More shocked out of my gourd, I had to ask him to repeat himself. "I know it sounds kinky, Brad, but would be fun to see if you can do it." "I can't believe I'm hearing this, Chase-baby." "Yeah.... hee hee... kind of wicked, huh?" Going to the window, I tilted the blind. "What are you looking for Brad?" "I'm looking to see if I can see a full moon!" "I see one, everytime I fuck you, Brad!" That morning both of us had subjected each other to some lunacy, but it came out where I had been 'given permission' to seduce, almost as liberal as 'invade and conquer', when speaking with Kareem this afternoon. continued......... Copyright 2005 Bradford D. Bigelow All Rights Reserved. Permission is NOT granted to publish this story to any PAY site, nor any site other than www.nifty.org, without the author's prior consent.