Date: Sun, 30 Dec 2007 18:03:19 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Adventures In Nature 07

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the
format of reality. Any resemblances to real people,
alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in
nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon
persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental
areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene
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 state and
countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by
law. Check with your local laws regarding such. %
Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction.
In real life, use protection.

%

"Adventures In Nature" 07
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

Shining his flashlight up the driveway, Riley noticed
the two vehicles parked, the atomic orange-colored
corvette, a `can't miss' custom car about town, behind
Darryl's gunmetal Sierra 4x4. "Perfect!" he said to
himself, softly. Reporting back to his patrol car, set
way back on the road from the long driveway, he made
himself comfortable, removing the binoculars from it's
case.

Staking out the house for three hours, Riley took
notice as the lights, bottom floor of the house going
out. Upstairs, one window of the dormer lit up,
staying that way for all of ten minutes, enough time,
he figured, for two guys to strip, take a leak and get
comfy in bed. He gave a coupla hours leeway for
everything else to transpire.

An evil grin creased his lips, as he made his way past
the vehicles, circling around the side of the Cape
Cod-styled house. Arriving at the back door, his
impromtu plan couldn't have been made easier; the
unlocked door. Walking right in, he stepped lightly,
allowing his flashlight to guide him through the dark
kitchen. It wasn't tough, guiding himself through the
dark, boxlike house, detecting where the staircase of
the blueprint lay. As he peered up the stairs, he took
notice of the darkness filling the hallway. Once
upstairs, he let his senses guide him, like a tracking
dog, either his nose picking up the mansex scent or
his ears listening for silence, except for the sounds
of chests rising and falling, to the rhythm of sleep.

Their prep couldn't have made it easier for Riley, the
miniblind open, allowing the moonlight to illuminate
the room, streaming in across the bed. He grinned,
thinking, `no sweat', looking upon the two naked men,
Darryl spooning Julian's bod. Reaching around, behind
his waist, he took out his handcuffs. Things couldn't
have been sweeter, as Darryl's arm perched over
Julian's ribs. Taking the cuffs, Riley put them up to
his mouth, breathing on them, erasing the coldness
from the metal. All the while, grinning, his balls
churned along with his devious plan, as he knelt down
at the side of the bed.

It wouldn't be the first time Riley dressed a sleeping
beauty up in a pair of cuffs. It took no time at all
to carefully rig the first cuff around Darryl's right
wrist, his arm cast over his bedfellow. But when it
came to the other half of the plan, he had to be
careful not wake up the schoolteacher, placing the
other cuff around Julian's left wrist, Riley having to
scoot the arm from it's hanging over the side, folding
it up carefully, to secure it to the short lead
connecting Darryl's wrist. Tricky as it seemed, for an
old pro like Riley Sanchez, he pulled it off,
remaining cool, calm and collective, the thrill still
churning away in his crotch, keeping him on edge. Now,
for the second part of his plan, he busied himself
with stuffing clothes in an empty duffle bag, opening
drawers and the closet. He ended with the easy chair,
scooping up briefs and other clothes. He made a trip
to his patrol car, returning to park his ass in the
chair, getting comfy, waiting for the `lovebirds' to
awaken from their nest.

%

 "Nice night," John said, as the two stare up into the
near cloudless sky.

Lifting his wrist to check up on the time, Kev says,
"Oops! Forgot. Don't have my wristwatch on."

"Almost midnight," John came to his rescue, one hand
depressing the light feature on his Replica watch.

"Man, I can't believe we've been sitting out here for
three hours."

"Right," John countered, agreeing, "seems more like
one."

"Um, I hate to be a pest, but don't you have to call
mommy and daddy?" Kev asks, real cutesy.

A smile to his lips, John giggled, responding, "We
have a new arrangement."

"Oh?"

"They're cutting me more slack."

"How's that go?"

"Dad's the one who came out with," changing the timbre
of his voice to a more distinguished tone,
"`Johnathan, you're old enough to make your own
decisions about whether to come home at night or
not.'" Then back to ordinary mode, "Mom? She wasn't so
keen on the idea, so if I don't check in with them by
ten, the next morning, I'll be in hot water," John
explained.

"Sounds rational. So!" Kev sits up, rubs his hands
together, suggests, "I guess this means you're
spending the night, eh Johnathan?"

"To you... it's `John'. Anyway, let's put it this way;
if I decided to go home now, Sven, that's our dog,
will wind up waking up the entire household, if not
the immediate world, so I guess he's pretty much made
up my mind."

Kev liked John's reasoning. So much, he decided, if
and when, he ever got to meet Sven, he deserved a
tasty doggy treat!

%

It wasn't exactly a restful sleep for Riley. So many
times he stirred awake, seeing each hour tick by, on
the digital readout of Darryl's alarm clock. Somehow,
the upright posture of the easy chair came nowhere
close to the comfort of his cushy waterbed he slept in
every night. Never really thinking about it, except
for the coupla times he's been away on vacation, he
kind of missed that ole rooster, crowing his lungs
out, as the morning light illuminated the dawn. Still,
he stretched his arms out, yawning, his mouth wanting
a taste of caffeine. Probably, he could have found the
proper tools for assembling a cup, nervy enough to
help himself, but more wanting to stay alert and
present, when the fireworks started. He was
disappointed, when halfway through a stretched-out
yawn, Darryl made some kind of animal sound and tried
rolling over. `I can't believe it!' Riley sighed, as
arms still stretched out to his sides, tugging at the
buttons on his shirt, his eyes intently on Darryl, as
he fell over on his back, his arm dragging Julian with
him, Julian's arm tugged to accomodate his, a palm
resting on his lightly haired stomach. Finishing out
his reaction to waking up, Riley's hands gripped the
arms of chair, waiting for the next opportunity of
surprise to knock, when the two would finally awaken
to their dilemma!

%

"Rise and shine, Mr. Manager!"

"You're up? What time of the night is it?"

"In case you haven't noticed," Justin tells Christian,
"the light started peeking through the window an hour
ago?"

Rolling over onto his back, from his tummy, Christian
wound the sheets up around his bare bod, like a
cocoon. "Um, maybe I missed something, but mind
refreshing my memory, as to why you're up at the crack
of dawn?"

Loving Justin's `model' pose, he wished he had the
time to crawl back into bed, at seeing one hand
positioned behind his head, flashing his golden-haired
pit, the other hand, tucked under the sheet, most
likely loosening things up after a night's sleep. "The
orchestra concert? Remember I told you about it over
the weekend?"

Withdrawing his `crotch-ed' hand, Christian joins the
other hand behind his head, as he answers, "Sure I do.
I might be older than you, but I'm not going senile!"

"I hope not. When I'm twenty-four, I would not want to
wind up in the same boat."

"Yeah, but I thought the orchestra concert doesn't
start until around noontime. What gives?" Christian
grills his lover, removing a hand from behind his
head, pressing it against his nose, as if rounding out
a ball of clay on a tabled surface.

"That's gross!"

"I know. It's not like the first time you mentioned
it. I can't help it," Christian replies, checking his
hand to make sure nothing comes away from his nose,
`attached'. "It's always been a habit, since I was a
kid. So? What's up with the orchestra concert?"

As Justin fashions the blue-patterned tie around the
collar of his light blue-tinted dress shirt, he
responds, "Sorry-I-forgot-to-mention-it. Yesterday
afternoon, my orchestration teacher, Professor Beebe,
informed us, if we could get to WRCC by eight AM, we
could participate in a bus ride, instead of finding
our own ride to the city."

"I can't believe it," Christian states, unraveling
himself, getting out of bed.

"What is it you find hard to believe?" Justin replies,
his eyes, forced by habit, of taking in the scan of
his lover's bod, ending with the lower half.

He looked up when it became Christian's turn to speak,
giving him his full attention. "You said that all in
one breath."

"It comes naturally, with the territory of a singer.
Ever hear of something called breath control?"

"Of course." Then with a wide grin, Christian remarks,
as he sweetly handles his partner, reverberating in
the technical sense, "I utilize it everytime we hit
the sheets!"

Laughing his ass off, Justin tells him, "Maybe you
should trade your manager's cap in for a comedian?
Maybe Michael would like some `live entertainment'?"

Going along with the joking, Christian, carrying it
further, suggests, "If it be `live entertainment',
maybe I should become a go-go boy when Mr. Pinque's
reopens?"

Peering down Christian's bod, to where the strip of
hair crosses over his navel, the rest of him parked up
against his beltline, remarks, "You've got the body...
why not!"

"I might just do that," He calls Justin's bluff, only
in jest. "I might just march right into Birdy's this
morning, forsake all the thinking and logic it takes
to be a manager and go dance my ass off!"

In response to the comment, Justin slides his hands
down Christian's back, hands clawing at his melons. "I
don't know about that. Not much to these glutes.
`Wouldn't want to have these grapefruits turned into
oranges, with all that jumping around."

"Nah, but I like the reaction, saying it, got."

"Really? I figured last night you got a bigger
reaction... I sure did."

It was time to terminate the joke, wearing thin, as
Justin beat Christian to the tip of the iceberg, as if
trying to beat each other out, thinking up the most
outlandish description of heightened activity.

Knowing he was beat, Christian turns back to reality,
as well as time, looking over his shoulder at the
lighted alarm clock. "Shoot! You better get a move on
it, babe, if you want to make that bus."

Realizing the quick cutoff, to cover his ass, Justin
says, "Stalemate, eh?"

"When? Now or last night?"

"I better get going," Justin utters, thinking this
could go the way of Christian's glutes. Giving them a
painless swat with both hands, before breaking their
embrace, he turns to leave.

"Hey... where's my kiss?" Christian complains, hands
on hips, as he stands there in the raw, expecting more
than a friendly goodbye.

"Um, I'm only going to brush my teeth, dah?" His
twenty year old lover replies.

"Oh," Christian simply says, dropping his arms to his
sides, following for his morning tinkle.

%

Finally the smile turned into a hardy grin, as Riley's
`mousetrap' was set off by the bait.

"What tha?" came Darryl's voice first, as he tried
turning over on his right side, his arm tugging in the
opposite direction.

"Owwwwch! Oh shit! Darryl?" the exclamation came, as
Julian's arm ventured away from his bod, almost
twisting from its socket, at the shoulder.

"Me? You...."

Before either had the opportunity to counterattack the
other, Riley got up off his duff and switched on the
overhead light, setting the room ablaze with
incandescent light. "My, my, my... what do we have
here?"

"Riley?" was Darryl's first reaction, surprised to see
his partner standing there, decked out in his police
uniform. Then, noticing himself cuffed to Julian, he
raised his arm, saying, "Is this your doing?"

"Owwwww!" Julian screeched out loud, as the cuff dug
into his right wrist, when Darryl lifted his arm up,
towards the ceiling.

All it took was a sinister laugh, to answer Darrl, in
the affirmative. Straightaway, Darryl turns and looks
at Julian.

"Don't look at me. It sure as hell wasn't my idea!"
Julian rebuked the charge of Darryl's eyes, staring
into his.

Putting his hand down, again causing Julian to wince,
Darryl questioned, "Mind telling me what all this is
about, Riley? If this is one of your sick sexgames,
I'm not interested."

"One of `my' sexgames?" Riley asks, a palm going to
his left pec, singling himself out. He hadn't planned
it to go this way, but Darryl had already paved the
way, so Riley used it to his advantage, saying, "I
would think it's more along the lines of the sexgame
you're playing with Denis Clark!"

"My sexgame? With Denis Clark?" Getting edgy, Darryl
cursed, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Being a smart teacher, college bachelors and masters
degrees under his belt, it didn't take much for Julian
to figure it out, where Riley was taking this.

Approaching the foot of the bed, Riley put on his best
pose, as if playing the part of a dominating master, a
role not tough to portray, standing there, his six
foot, one inch height towering over the two in the
bed. Hands on his hips, he looked even more fierce, as
his smile dissapated and he dressed his face up in his
more serious side. "I thought the flowers a sweet
gesture. It's a shame Denis had to go through
defending something representing a thought... a
thought he could possibly care sooo much for an
individual who would eventually betray his trust
and...."

"Whatever `is' between Denis Clark and myself, I think
is our business," Darryl defended himself.

"Contrare..... that's where you're wrong," Riley
corrected him, waving a finger, glazed over with his
leather glove. "You see, I've known Steve Clark and
his family... well, since before the family came
together. I've watched each grow up, the eldest, Sean,
grown from preteen years into a man. Believe me, when
I tell you Denis Clark is more like a son to me. Kin
takes care of kin and I'm not about to let Denis fall
into a relationship with some cheap whore!"

At first the comment stunned Darryl, as Julian,
knowing the truth of the matter, lay back, slipped
down in the bed, his free hand riding the sheet up,
over his head, softly saying, "I told you it wasn't
going to float your boat!"

"Will you shut the fuck up?" He cursed out Julian.
Turning back to Riley, Darryl hadn't any ammunition to
back himself up, recalling his conversation earlier,
with Julian, knowing he was already proven guilty,
anything said preparing his own way to the gallows.
So, he switched their talk to the rings of metal
around their wrists, the connecting chain, inquiring,
"So, what does this prove?"

With one of his Doc Martin's pressing into the bed
sheet, Riley quizzed him, "Ever see the movie, `The
Parent Trap'?"

"Parent Trap?" Darryl asks. "What does this have to do
 with...."

Flicking the sheet off him, Julian does a situp,
asking, "Which one? The old one or the new one? You
know they remade the original Parent Trap? Wasn't as
good as the old one, if you ask me. Hayley Mills did a
better job as a kid, than playing an adult..."

Darryl just stared at Julian, finally cutting off his
review of the two movies, with a nudge to his ribs,
which caused him to pull on the chain connecting
himself to Julian.

"Owwwwch! Will ya watch it?" Julian complained,
fingers trying to soothe the space between his right
wrist and handcuff.

"Ahem!" Riley cut in, "As you can see, it seems Julian
has filled us in on the plot of the story..."

"I still don't get it," Darryl asks. "Why the cuffs?"

Riley knew Darryl was a smarter cop than he made out
to be. Riley forsaw Darryl already knowing the
significance of the cuffs, working it's way into the
storyline of `The Parent Trap'. As Riley saw it,
Darryl was probing for the play-by-play scene of his
plan. "Well, I just figured," he began unraveling his
plan, shining the side of his boot on the sheet before
placing his foot on the floor, "how tough it would be
to contain you two inside," he looked around the room,
"for a week or so...."

"Inside?" Julian questioned, Darryl right behind him,
with, "A week?"

"Or so," Riley calmly put it, forcing a smile, "giving
you two a fair chance at getting to know each other
and..."

"Get to know `him'?" Darryl pointed to Julian.

"I don't think I'm so bad to get to know," Julian
defended his character.

Carrying it further, Darryl boasted, "It's Denis I
care for... not..."

After a played up sound of laughter, Riley asks,
sarcastically, "Care for Denis?" Walking around to
Darryl's side of the bed, he takes out his nightstick,
drags the sheet down, exposing Darryl's cock, nestled
in a thick shag, except for the shaved balls. "I'd
rather think," he puts the tip of his nightstick right
between Darryl's golf-ball sized nuts, pressing down,
"these are the driving force behind your actions?"

"Oh shit!" Julian called out, as Riley drove the point
home, putting extreme pressure on the handle of the
nightstick. Of course, as Darryl tried to rescue his
sore balls from the pressure, screaming like hell, he
dragged Julian into the fracas, cuffs tearing at the
teach's wrist.

"You're right! Okay? Okay?" The pleading came, not
from Darryl, but from out of Julian's mouth. All
Julian could do is sit up, his right shoulder angled
in a molded position to fit with Darryl's posture,
leaning over, coddling up to his bruised balls, as
Riley let up on the stick, placing it back into the
loop of his utility belt.

Backing towards the door, Darryl says, "You think
you're going to get away with this, do you? As soon as
you're out the door, I'm going to get dressed..
get..."

"Oh I don't think so. Boy, you two must've had a good
time last night... knocked each other right out after
your sweet love making... I figured I'd had woken you
two up... you should see the patrol car... I look like
a bagman on the run, with all those shoes and clothes
packed in there..." He let their imaginations think up
the rest.

"Clothes?" Julian questioned.

With a grin, Riley opens the closet door, pulls the
chain to light it up, saying, "I'll leave it up to
you, to check the draws!"

"He... he took our clothes!" Julian thinks out loud.

"Oh yeah, if you decide to leave the house... in your
birthday suits," he giggled, "you better call a cab."
For effect, he jangled two sets of keys in front of
them.

Of course, the act of incarcerating Darryl and Julian
in the house for a week or more, drew fire about their
jobs. To  that, Riley made up excuses for them, saying
they look awfully peekid. "Yeah, that's the thing
about food. You got to make sure you thoroughly cook
it before ingesting. Botulism's a tricky thing. Can
make you so sick, you don't want to get out of bed for
a week!" He ended his desertation on the subject, with
a hardy laugh, as he left the room, closing the door
behind him.

"Riley, you get your ass back here and uncuff us... I
swear I'll...."

As he let himself back into his patrol car, he picked
up one article of clothing he had singled out from the
hills in the back seat. "Hmm... just my size," he said
about the cute shoestring thong, the pouch intended
for a worthy piece of meat!

%

Pointing his thumb to the bed, John says, upon rising,
"I guess I'm not the only one who didn't go home to
sleep last night!"

Still lying in his bed, Kev heard what John said, but
failed to answer, his attention more attuned to the
light covering of blond pube fur, his endowment
hanging free. Taking the liberty, he reached up and
gently stroked John under the balls, causing him to
sigh, "Ooooooh... don't start me up again!"

"Why not? If ya like it, why not enjoy it while you're
getting it!"

More than Kev's expectations, he sighed more of a
fake, `Oomph," as John `fell' forward, onto his bod.
"Oh yeeaah. Sweet!" He exclaimed to John, as their
chests, stomachs and everything else came together.

Literally, in Kev's face, John mentions, "I guess Tom
wasn't kidding," as his boyfriend follows through, his
hands migrating between their bods, aiming for John's
soft cock, but connecting with both shafts.

"And what other lies would my brother be spreading
about me?"

"Oh," John replies, matter of factly, "the fact you
can't get enough mansex?"

His hand remains, but the slight stroking action
ceases, as Kev informs him, "That was then... this is
now. It was tough trying to gain control of myself
with so many hot men in my life."

"Oh really? Around here, everytime I turn around, I'm
forced to stare at another hottie."

Forgetting the sexual part, Kev slides his hands out
from their sandwiched bods, moves them over John's
thighs to his asscheeks, to the middle of his back and
lingers around his lats. "It was different then. For
God's sake, I was a sixteen year old blossoming fag.
My testosterone levels were running faster than Niagra
Falls. For a coupla years I didn't have any control
over what I did... that is, until Tom came and picked
me up out of the gutter."

"I know. I'm sorry," John spoke softly and humble. "I
shouldn't have said what I said. I meant it as a joke,
but I can see you're kind of `touchy' on the subject."

"Yeah, well I'm sorry for getting hyper over it.
Between the drugs, drinking and the sex, my life
started to cave in. At first it felt great and I was
having the time of my life, but as things started to
deteriorate I began to feel like a real loser. If it
wasn't for Tom I'd probably be dead. Plus I'd have
never gone back to night school for my high school
diploma or enrolled here at WRCC. I've got a lot to be
thankful for."

Maybe the whole conversation centered around Kev, his
past life and present, but John got the idea the last
dig was meant for him.

Following through, John became even more assured, as
Kev dearly said, "Yeah... I've `really' got a lot to
thank my lucky stars about."

By now, words were obsolete, as Kev's hands cupped
John's head bringing their lips together, to do Kev's
bidding.

%

Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection, without prior consent from the author.