Date: Thu, 8 Jan 2009 08:33:20 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Natural Wildlife 02

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.

%

Natural Wildlife 02
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

Even after ringing three times, Barry picking up the phone, stumbling over
his lover's bod in bed, it didn't wake Steve. Even his escalating voice
didn't nudge Steve out of his sleep as he had his brief talk with
Dr. Singh. After hanging up, he lay there in the dark, phone clutched to
his bare stomach, wondering whether to handle this himself or give a wake
up call to Steve. He decided to let him sleep, having enough problems with
the after effects of his bump on the head and the way he limped around on
his still healing foot.

"Beary?" He heard a low moan.

The light trailing from the jon, same one Barry used to get himself ready,
lit his way into the darkened room, to the bed where Steve lay.

"You're awake?"

"It's still dark out," Steve replied. "What's up?"

Contrary to the moment after Steve shot his load all over himself, he
seemed wide awake.

"There's been a problem at Pacific Northwest and..."

"Denis?" Steve asked with concern, settling back down into bed when the
altitude didn't agree with his brain.

Barry was sure Steve would agree, "I was going to wake you but I didn't
think you were fit for travel, especially in the middle of the night."

"What time is it?"

"Almost elelven and," Barry chose his words carefully, "I've got to be
going."

"But wait!" Again he inched his way up from the mattress, one elbow holding
him up as he turned towards Barry at the door. Seeing that he himself
wasn't fit to follow, Steve asks with concern, "You'll keep me informed?"

Forgetting his kiss, Barry returns to the bed, sits long enough to keel
over, give Steve an affectionate kiss along with the words, "I'll keep you
posted."

So, out into the black of the night, a quarter moon to dimly light his way,
Barry set out to rescue Denis. Almost to Van Dusen Blvd., the main road
which would put him on track to the town hospital and Denis, flashing
lights lit up the surroundings like fireworks. Of course he slowed down,
pulled to the side of the road, but wasn't alarmed. The sideview mirror
proved his assumptions correct, Riley Sanchez getting out of his patrol car
and walking up to his side of the van. Barry unrolled the window and hoped
this wouldn't take long.

"Good evening there, Beary... oh! I mean Barry!" Riley laughed.

Not yielding to his laughter, Barry says, "So what are you doing out here
in the woods, pulling over innocent motorists and cracking stupid jokes?"

"I could take you in for assaulting an officer with those words, you know?"

"Why?" Barry suddenly decided the revenge route, "Assault huh? Get your ass
over the hood Riley and I'll give you something to arrest me for!"

Seeing a stalemate on words, Riley informs Barry, "I've got it all set up
with `Bearniebear'. All you have to do is give me the word."

"Not just yet, Riley. Steve needs a few weeks of recovery before..." Then
realizing he's wasted enough time, "Look, I've got to get moving."

And when Riley butted himself into Barry's business, he gave a brief
description of Denis' quarrel with Mitch, of how he lashed out in violence
and now he's under some heavy meds at the hospital. He didn't ask for it,
but followed along when Riley's patrol car started up with the flashing
lights and even though not a dire emergency, followed him to the
hospital. There wasn't anyone on the almost pitch black roads, but Barry
did admit it was a benefit following a lit car than finding his own way in
the dark. When he started to thinking how many times he's traveled this
road, to school, to the market, taken the kids to their friends houses,
dropped Mark and Jose at their country club jobs, Eric at the environmental
center before he had a `boyfriend' and so on, he had a flashback to the
first day he met Steve, jogging down the road and heading right into his
life! His mind fast-forwarded, thinking about Steve and this `BernieBear'
 thing. When Riley told him the identity of `BernieBear', he wasn't at all
surprised to find out it was Bernardo Gonzales, Sal Barberio's partner. He
even smiled now, thinking of how Bernardo fit the picture, tall, big around
the middle and from his loosely fit clothing, could imagine he fit the bill
as being hairy like himself, but more of a `bigfoot' type. Put it all
together and he agreed with himself Bernardo had picked out a fair choice
of naming himself. His thoughts came to an end when Riley stopped in front
of him, Barry hitting the brake and coasting to a stop.

"You can park here."

"But it says no parking."

"No problem. I have to hang out for my partner. He's visiting his sister."

"Partner?" Barry questioned as he threw the gear into park and killed the
engine.

"Yeah. A new rookie. Nice looking.. I mean nice guy. Knows his stuff,"
Riley replied.

Barry would have `went there', chatted with Riley about the specifics of
his new partner if he had the time, but now that he had reached his
destination, he was more concerned with meeting up with Dr. Singh and
straightening all this out. His last words to Riley were, "If I get a
ticket, you're paying for it!"

He was all too familiar with WRGH, having been a patient there himself last
spring when he, Aidan and Philip had flipped over in the van. From there he
had a trail of thoughts as he proceeded though the parking lot, into the
emergency room entrance and through the hallways, seeing the front desk. He
recalled Mark's nosebleed that wouldn't stop, a result of him and Jose
fooling around and accidentally getting socked in the face. At the time he
was upset, but now all he could do is smile at one of the boys' milestones
of growing up. Next came Aidan's trip back to the hospital when he
complained about his sore leg following the accident, as well as Philip's
hand, still having a tiny piece of glass healing up inside. Then it was
Steve and his appendics, Steve and his sprained foot and Steve bumping his
head while chatting with `BernieBear', which made him smile. But as he
neared the nurse's station his mind returned to the reason for being
 here. He didn't have to do much inquiring.

A burly man walking up to him, bearded and extending a hand, give him a
clue he must be from Pacific Northwest. "Hello. I'm Mitch Rodriquez, Denis'
counselor at Pacific Northwest Experience. I'm sorry for the trouble and
having to drag you out here."

Barry had to look up a couple of inches for eye contact, Mitch standing
there at six feet-four inches tall. "Nonsense," Barry brushed the
counselor's feeling away, "when a family member is involved it's a
necessary thing for a father to follow up." He also noticed the little
round bandaid to the side of Mitch's mouth. "I'm only sorry this had to
come to violence before Denis acted out with so much anger."

"Well I don't hold it against him. In reality sometimes there are no
warning signs and it may be a good thing this occurs at a facility which
deals with such acts of behavior before turning a camper out into the real
world."

As they chatted, Mitch slowly led Barry to Denis' room, explaining the
heavy sedation, a cocktail of drugs meant for a patient with high
anxiety. He almost tripped over a pair of feet. "Oh," he directed to Barry,
"this is Denis' `friend'," Mitch tread lightly on words. He could have used
a more affectionate term, `boyfriend' or even more involved, like he
spotted through the chink in the window at the cabin in the forest, Denis'
`lover'. But he was saving all those details for conversation later on.

"Hi Mr. Clark," he greeted Barry.

"This is Jared Miller," Mitch said as Jared put out his hand. While Barry
and he exchanged formalities, Mitch filled him in, "Normally we would not
allow another camper to leave the facility, but there's always the first
time when a rule is tested and an exception to be made."

Barry wondered why. Principal of the local high school, Barry deals with
teens and their problems everyday. Something like this, the hidden part of
Mitch's disclosure, something Barry had a hunch of being part of this whole
puzzle, has happened many a time, termed as `boy-problems' or
`girl-problems'. So he felt comfortable answering, "I understand."

But then Jared started spewing forth, "Part of this is my fault. If Denis
and me. If I..." he had a hard time getting the facts out.

Placing a hand on Jared's shoulder, Mitch told him, "Why don't we leave
this to later Jared?"

His interaction with Jared gave Barry an idea of how caring an individual
Mitch was. Too, even though he brandished the wound to the left side of his
mouth he hasn't yet given Barry reason to believe he was an uncaring,
forgiving soul.

%

Tony was totally out of it, but not as far gone as Dylan. Sandwiched under
Gerard, he felt great having a sweaty, hairy front rub against his own
chest, stomach and lower region and a pair of lips making love to his. He
would never guess in a million years it wasn't Dylan's lips, nor the reason
for the listing of his employee and friend's bod, Dylan behind Gerard and
pumping his cock in and out of an ass crevice.

As with some guys, Gerard never gets his fill of gay sex. This afternoon he
hooked up with Chris Gates, spent about two hours licking his bod, sucking
his balls and taking his cock down his throat, having Chris shoot his load
down into his belly. Then, a half hour later Chris had the urge to fuck the
living daylights out of some guy, Gerard being there to enjoy the full
pleasure of having his ass chute expanded. The two inches or so of the JD
Tony had in the bottle, was now in Gerard's stomach. Not enough to make him
incoherent, he was high enough on ball-fluid, it churning up his emotional
output, wanting to dive right in and have the swim of his life. When Dylan
came, he pretty much was ready for outer space, crashing onto Gerard's back
and falling under the influence of sleep. Yet, Gerard's prostate had been
massaged, look enough to make him want more out of this threeway
experience. Pulling himself out of the sandwich, he sat there on the bed,
 his choice of asses. It then occured to him, Tony would be mad as hell if
he fucked him, knowing Tony preferred the `top-life' when it came to
sex. But he was perplexed, wondering how Tony would feel if he used Dylan's
ass.

"Oh fuck it!" he said.

It then occured to him, his face lighting up in the dark, `the
gardener'. He was working overtime, trying to work wonders with his
chainsaw to cut up a dead tree. Three hours ago he asked to use the shower
in the gym. Then he came back to Gerard later and asked if he'd mind, if he
could use the gym to workout. Gerard had it in his mind to `followup' on
him, but got sidetracked when he remembered he `had' to have the menu for
next week's food plan drawn up. Then Tony and Dylan had come in from the
pool and here he was on his ass wondering how he was going to relieve
himself of his stiff joystick. Not leaving anything to chance, Gerard
hopped out of bed, left the room, took the stairway at two steps a piece,
ran around the banister, jogged across the inside courtyard to the other
half of the modern mansion and found himself standing at the gym
doorway. He listened, then grew a big smile across his face upon hearing
the treadmill running.
 It's then he also realized he was butt-naked! It didn't phase him too much
as he opened the door.

"Oh! I didn't know you were still here," he made his words fly across the
room.

"Hey, um..." the gardener gulped, stopping him dead mid-sentence when he
notices Gerard glistening in his own sweat from head to toe. "Uh, what are
you up to?"

"Just thought I'd stop by for a shower." The appearance of the gardener
gave Gerard indication he should offer, "You look kind of sweated up
yourself there Arturo. Were you thinking of quitting soon?"

Arturo smirked, then replied, "I.. I'm not gay, Gerard."

"Did I ask you if you were gay, Arturo?"

"No." But at this moment Arturo `was' feeling something, standing with his
feet apart as the treadmill slid under him.

"Well, I'm sweating like a hog, so I better hit it."

Thirty seconds after Gerard had left the gym and turned the corner to enter
the small enclave of lockers, hot tub area and showers, Arturo's bod was
still hovering over the speeding `walkway'. He licked his lips. At
twenty-five years old he was wondering what took him so long to do
something other gay guys were doing in their teens. Now, an invitation
stood right in his face.

He was nervous when he heard Gerard yell out, "Oh Arturo, would you grab me
a towel when you come?"

Again he expressed his nervousness, gulping, but he found something
different with minutes before. One hand had slipped off the safety railing
and was now firming up his nine and a half inch spike.

Gerard knew exactly what he was doing when he stood in the showering water,
again badgering Arturo, "I'm almost ready for that towel, Arturo!"

But to Arturo he didn't know those games gay men played. So wrapped up in
what he was thinking, or not thinking, he grabbed a towel and slowly made
his way to the shower room. Ever so slowly he paced himself, still not
knowing if he wanted to follow through with this, outing himself as
well. "Um... here... it is," Arturo said nervously.

Giving him the once or twice over, Gerard says to him, "You know you're
supposed to take your clothes off before you hit the shower?"

Not only was the towel in his hand, the one he held out to Gerard, sopping
wet, but his sneakers, socks, gym shorts, tank top and baseball cap were
drenched as well.

Working Arturo over with his eyes, Gerard took notice of the chiseled pecs,
outlines shown about his wet tank top. With their eyes locked, Gerard made
his move, his two hands reaching out, placed on the sides of Arturo's
chest, his thumbs targeting the two pointy places of Arturo's pecs. He
smiled when Arturo sighed, closing his eyes from the awesome feelings of
his thumbs massaging.

Without any feelings of nervousness, the uncomfortable feeling subsiding,
Arturo moaned incessantly. He allowed Gerard to take the flaps of his
soaked tank top and lift it over his head, an achievement which would be
tough for himself to do, it being as soaked as Gerard's nude bod. It came
off, his baseball cap with it, but at this moment Arturo wasn't thinking
about `folding his clothes'!

Actions spoke louder than words. Gerard, being several inches taller than
Arturo's five feet, nine inch height, knelt down and still could reach
Arturo's chest, almost his chin. But Gerard had a `thing' for making a guy
wail in pleasure through his nips and it wasn't more than a split second
passing, that Arturo was again cooing with sounds of sexual pleasure as
Gerard licked, then sucked one nip, his hand mashing the other one ever so
softly.

Standing there, Arturo's head dropped back. But then when Gerard switched
nips, he realized his hands weren't doing anything. So he placed them on
Gerard's shoulders at least. They felt smooth and of course wet. Some soap
still remained and acted like a car's tires on ice, his hands gliding down.

"Mmmmm," Gerard moaned when Arturo forced his pecs into Gerard's face,
Arturo's hands dangerously nearing Gerard's ass crevice. But with Arturo
bending him over backwards he started to search for air! He tapped Arturo's
shoulder as if wanting to cut in on a couple dancing.

Arturo gave in, standing up straight, his hands on Gerard's shoulders,
gazing down. "You okay?" he asked with concern.

Staring up from down he said, "I could be better on `dry land'?"

They dried, Gerard dabbing Arturo's back, same time admiring the rear
features.

Returning the favor, Arturo felt strangely horny, his cock pulsing as he
dried, but his mind affixed to Gerard's hairy ass.

He knew the outdoor perimeter of the grounds Tony's mansion sat on and the
gym, but not until this evening. He almost bumped into Gerard with his
eyeing the place up and down, being led through the hallway.

"Can't wait to get that into me, huh?" Gerard joked, glancing down at
Arturo's front, watching his stiffie bounce up and down with the rhythm of
his walk.

Honestly not knowing what Gerard pertained to, Arturo questions, "Huh?"

"Never mind. C'mon."

Onwards they traveled to what seemed like the ends of the earth. Tired of
the same old decorated hallway, same wallpaper, a picture here and there,
it's then Arturo picked up on Gerard's asscheeks, moving back and forth to
the beat of his walk. He had seen other men in clothes before and got
somewhat excited over the shape their pants held, but he never
intentionally centered his attention on a man's naked butt. Now that Gerard
mentioned it, he suddenly `got it'! Yet he didn't voice his
opinion. Whatever, with realization he did feel the `afterthought', his
cock pulsing, it ached to have some attention.

"Home sweet home!" Gerard says, welcoming Arturo into his room.

"Nice place to live," Arturo mentions.

However, as Arturo passes between himself and the door frame, Gerard can't
help but keep his eyes glued on something larger than life that wasn't
there before. Too, with the airy hallway drying them a bit, Gerard picks up
on the hairy ass crevice, licking his lips.

Ready to cry `rape', Arturo squirmed when Gerard pushed him face-first into
his bed, hands spreading his ass cheeks. But calmness filled him when he
felt a wet tongue venture into the forest of his anal
crevice. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh," he sighed, also making mention, "I... I never
felt this before."

Gerard didn't say a word as he rubbed Arturo's smooth back, licking away,
occasionally dropping his hands to ass height, pulling asscheeks apart and
doing some pleasurable tongue-fucking.

Meanwhile, down the hall Dylan had woken up, his cock screaming for the
jon. Getting up he made the mistake of picking Tony's walk in closet. `Holy
Toledo!' he said of the threads neatly lining every wall, shoes on the
floor and some jock equipment on appropriate racks. Second door, one left
open he thought he was in the wrong place. A dim light lit the interior,
but it wasn't til he turned the main switch did he realize he was on
target.

"Ohhhhhhh, I've got such a....." Tony started to say, holding his head. A
hand on Dylan's shoulder, he asks, "What'samatter? You look lost!"

"I am. Where does a guy pee around here?"

Still not with it, Tony recalled an incident which happened about eight
months ago. It just popped into his head and being in a quacky mood, he
replied, "Why don't you just `give it' `here'!"

Dylan's eyes did a double take. "What do you mean?" he asked as Tony sat on
his knees, he hands behind his back, sitting on his heels and propped up as
if a slave in position for his master's bidding.

"Let me have it," Tony said nonchalantly.

"Have what?"

"Your piss," he said and then laughed.

Dylan wasn't all that sober yet either, but Tony's suggestion seemed to jog
him out of the woosy state he was in, just enough to realize what he was
asking. "You want me to piss on you?"

"Yeah. Cool, huh?"

"Not cool," Dylan responded. Then he passed by Tony on the suggestion,
walking to the right, finding the hot tub and shower.

"It's over there," Tony pointed out the jon not far down the other
corridor. He then realised he was still on his knees and part of the
flashback came to mind, himself with Dylan's point of view, feeling totally
grossed out over a guy asking for him to do the same. Getting up, he
followed the sound of Dylan's squirt hitting the toilet water.

Privacy for guests allowed another to close the stall door.

Tony knocked on it, saying, "I.. I didn't mean..." But as he studied the
words he was going to tell Dylan, he thought on them. Even though a still
hazy, a buzz still about him, he `did' indeed mean what he said, but not
that he actually wanted to do it. As he heard the toilet flush he then
revived himself out of his own confused state. Face to face with Dylan
exiting the stall he says, "I made a mistake... I think."

"Whatever. Look, I gotta go," Dylan replied.

"Wait. I gotta explain...."

"No. You don't. I understand, Tony."

"You do?" Tony asks.

"Um yeah." Then forgetting how they got there, Dylan asks, "Where's my
clothes?"

"Down by the pool, but...."

Dylan pulled the door open.

Tony pushed it closed before Dylan could escape and with more gumption
blurted out, "I know how you feel. I've been in your shoes."

Not that he cared at this point to wait around for an explanation, Dylan
gave Tony the benefit of the doubt. He stood there, one hand sort of over
his crotch like he was hiding something and the other across his stomach.

"Look, I did the same thing. I thought it totally gross when this guy asked
me to do the same thing."

"He pissed on you?"

"No... no.. no. It's the other way around. I met this nurse at the
hospital, I went to his house, was checking out his exercise equipment, we
both got sweaty, took a shower together and I turn around.... and there he
is, on his knees in the shower just like I was now. Except he was beggin me
to piss on him. Believe me Dylan, I was really totally grossed out!"

"But you `did' piss on him?"

"No, but my roommate said I should have."

This opened another can of worms.

"Your roommate. He's some kind of perv?"

"No," Tony said, "don't let me give you the wrong idea. Matt Drijver's a
really good guy. Good swimmer," Tony stretched Matt's credentials. "But you
see, he said to me... well I don't remember the exact words, but told me
`what's the big deal?' Matt said if it made the guy happy, I should of
pissed on him."

"And you like getting pissed on, Tony?"

"No I don't like getting pissed on!"

"Then why did you like... do that?"

"Because I was still drunk out of my skull, not all there and... and... and
I guess it was the power of suggestion, you needing to piss so bad and..."

When Dylan first met Tony he sensed something. While in the pool, though
the water cool, he felt warmed up when they pressed their wet bods together
for some intimate moments. Sure, Tony had grossed him out, but he had the
insight to see what Matt meant, even though he didn't know the Tony's
roommate. Slowly, as Tony tripped over word after word, Dylan dropped his
hand and when he was inches from Tony, made him shut up, his mouth giving
Tony a forgiving kiss.

"You're okay with it?"

"Yeah, but if you `ever' pull that stunt again... if you ever as much as
`ask' me to piss on you Tony..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to `piss' on you!"

Tony smiled and thanked him.

Dylan replies with, "Now why don't you start all over with getting me
horned up so I can stuff your ass with my meat?"

Tony wasn't sure about this. But he had to make a quick decision or else
suffer the consequences of losing a guy he was crazy about. "You got it!"
he decided. Maybe it was a foolish thought, but as Dylan led them to the
bed, tumbling in like a gymnastic, falling to his back, Tony dropped all
thoughts of himself being a total top.

%

Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee

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