Date: Tue, 7 Nov 2006 19:50:13 -0800 (PST) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: "Nature Country" 30 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. % NATURE COUNTRY 30 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % "Haven't I seen you before?" Mark, looking over to the driver, from the passenger seat of the 4x4, quickly made up a story. "Um, no. I don't think so. Y'see, I'm just passing through. Yeah, that's it, headed up to my aunt and uncle's place, up north." "What's your name?" "Um... Pete. That's it," Mark replied. "The name's Kevin," the driver replies. "Why not take the bus?" Mark could swear he's seen the twenty-something year old about the town. "I'm trying to save my money." "It could get cold up in these parts, especially at night. Not a smart thing for a guy to be hitch hiking, not to mention the creatures lurking about." "I can take care of myself." "I'm sure. Listen, I'm going to stop for a coffee, since I've got a long drive ahead of me. Want something?" "Nah. Like I said, I hafta save my money," the down trodden youth replied. "Hot chocolate, then, on me?" Mark analysed the guy. He looked friendly enough, besides it's not like he was a total stranger, being he's seen him around. "Sure. Thanks." Leaving Mark in his truck, Kevin Spangler, `fruits and vegetables' man for Barr's & Bridges', walked into Birdy's Cafe, to make his purchase. "I'm about ready to close, Kev. What can I get you?" "Hmm... Don't be too obvious, but take a look at the kid in my truck cab. Tell me if you recognize him?" Michael Byrd looks through the mini'blind, attached to the front door. "Sure. That's Chad Barr's kid-brother." "I thought he was part of that clan." "But the name escapes me." "Pete?" Kevin calls out. Watching along with Michael, shoulder to shoulder, Kevin knows his mind shouldn't be attached to such thoughts, but he picks up some strange vibes. "Nah, that's not it. Doesn't sound right." "That's the name he gave me. Comes to mind I've seen him only once before. Yeah, I think it had been with Chad. At the store." "So, what's he doing in your truck?" "He made up some story about visiting and aunt and uncle, up north." "I doubt that one bit. The Barr's are from back east. Chad hasn't mentioned any relatives out this way. Matter of fact, other than his dad having a brother, I think that's it. No, the kid's definitely giving you a cock'n'bull story." "Exactly what I thought. So, what do we do?" "I'll phone Chad." "Good idea," Kevin replies. Moving from the front door, Michael proceeds to step behind the counter. Kevin blatantly notices the swaying hips, then scans him upwards, till their faces meet. He smiles. The thirty-one year old smiles back, then gets serious, when the dial tone kicks in. "Hey, Chad?" Right in the middle of `something important', the twenty year old, half jokes-half condemns. "Birdy?" "Yeah, it's me." "Dammit! Right in the middle of my nightly massage!" Michael smiled, then returned to the serious nature of the call. "Listen, Chad. I haven't got your dad's phone number, but I think this could be important." "Go ahead." On the other end, Chad does a push up, Matty's creamy hand sliding down his unblemished shoulder blades. "Kevin Spangler picked up this young hitchhiker, maybe sixteen or seventeen. He says his name's Pete, but I'm not so sure if he's being truthful with Kevin." "Oh?" "If I'm not mistaken, I believe he's one of your brothers." "Are you sure? What would he be doing out on the road, at this time of the night?" Shrugging his shoulders, even though no one could see, Michael replies, "I dunno. I'm just reporting what Kevin has found out." "Hmmm... put Kevin on." Kevin hears, through his cellphone, `What's up?', apparently Matty's voice. Chad reiterates Michael's message. Matty responds, "Runaway?" Picking up on Matty's response, Kevin tells Chad, "Seems that way. Runanway, I'm thinking." "Oh. Hi Kevin. So, what's up?" "Nothing. Only what Michael told you, which I told him." This time, Michael can detect the scanning of his bod. On the other end, Chad retells Matty the story. "Tell him to keep him there." Reciting Matty's thoughts to Kevin, Chad adds, "Don't let him out of your sight, Kevin." "Oh, I wouldn't, but hurry. He's a smart kid." "Takes after me... bye." Kevin folded up his cellphone, then relays the info to Michael, "We've got to create a `stall'!" % It didn't take long for Connor and Jim to strip down, Ron standing there watching the jocks unveil the beauty of their teen bods. As the shirts came off, the twenty-eight year old college professor's hand slipped to his already naked crotch. "Hands off, `slave'!" Jim barked to him. "Yes, Sir," Ron replied. "Hands behind your head!" Connor says to his lover, "Hey, you're getting good at this `master' stuff, you know that?" "You think so, do you. Watch this!" More a game than the actual master/submissive role, Jim conjures up an order, to impress him lover. "Slave, get over here and strip down Connor!" "Right away, Sir!" A delight for all, Ron, the hairy college professor, standing in front of the eighteen year old high school senior, readying to unfasten his leather belt, then prepare him for their three-way romp in the bed. "On your knees slave!" "Cool!" Connor calls out. Looking at the hairy-chested slave, falling to his knees, he looks over to `the master'. Not only is his own pants feeling the expansion, but his lover's zipper area begins tenting, coaxed by a rubbing hand. "I can't wait to get my lips on that!" Connor announces. "You're going to be sharing, don't forget? Isn't that right, Slaveboy?" "Um... Yes, sir." Ron, on the other hand, eyeing up the bulging briefs, as he separates the flaps of Connor's jeans, licks his lips. "Can't he suck my cock while I'm sucking your's?" Looking at Connor, Jim replies, "That could work!" Jim than gets a devious idea. "No, slaveboy. Hands behind your back. Use your mouth!" "Oh cool!" Connor gets excited, as his jeans lay at his ankles, his briefs yet to be lowered. On the other side of the coin, Ron puts his hands behind his back, one hand in the other. Sitting tall, the stance Maury has taught him, he crooks his neck, mouth headed towards it's target, the elastic of Connor's briefs. Jim hasn't waited to be serviced, more into watching the action, unbuckling his own belt, depantsing himself, peeling his own briefs. "This is so fucking hot!" At Jim's comment, Ron takes a look behind him. "You want my big cock, don't you slaveboy?" Connor blurts out, "What about mine?" A wicked idea stokes Jim's imagination. "Why, there's enough here for two slaveboys!" "Hell yeah!" Connor yells out, falling to his knees. In no time, Ron, keeping his hands clasped behind his back, shuffles around on his knees, to face Jim. Connor sinks to his knees, accidentally bowling Ron over. "Oops!" "Greedy are we?" Jim asks. "Hey," Connor then states, "when it comes to a hot cock, it's every man for themselves!" Before Ron can upright himself, Connor has his lips around Jim's stalk, inserted up to his balls. "Well? What are you waiting for slaveboy?" Getting in there, Ron nuzzles underneath the eighteen year old jock's `taken' cock and begins licking his teen balls. Connor pulls out, when Ron gets `in the way'. "Look," Connor directs to Ron, "there's not enough here for both of us, so get on my cock!" "Who's good at dishing out the orders?" Jim says. Then, remembering his place, alongside Ron, as a slaveboy, Connor says to Jim, "That okay?" Laughing Jim sets the roleplay straight, telling his lover Conner has control over the slaveboy, he himself control his `special' slave! % By the time Berk had assembled a small platoon of police officers, half the neighborhood knew about Mark Barr's disappearance. Steve and Barry, out on their front lawn, taked with Berk and Riley Sanchez, from the WRPD. First, Alonzo showed up, offering help, so he was sent in, to help Max with `crowd control'. "We heard about Mark, Barry. Anything we can do?" Then their neighbors, down the road showed next. Beside the two dads, stood eleven year old Caleb Kendall-Johnson. "Yeah, we want to help find Aidan and Philip's brother!" Steve smiled, bending to one knee, saying, "That's very nice of you, Caleb, but it's kind of chilly for a little guy to be out in this weather." Greg Kendall asks, "Can we sit with your boys, while you two attend to the search?" "Thanks, but our backyard neighbor offered." "Anytime you need the same favor, we're available to help," his partner, thirty-three year old Mark Johnson replied. Steve adds, "Our cook, Max is there to help, but the boys are sort of in the panic mode." Mark Johnson suggests of his partner, "Greg is a shrink, if that helps." Sensing they help, reaching out, Barry replies, "It might be a good idea. Steve, why don't you show them the way?" "Sure." However, before they make it around the curvy flagstone walkway, one of the boys comes running out, a trail of troops following. "Dad! Dad!" Mark's brother, Tom comes yelling, phone in hand. Eric shouts, "It's Chad! They found Mark!" The squirts, as excited as the others, trailing with Max in their dust, exclaim the same. "Mark's at the bird's place!" "Bird's place?" Steve questions. Tom, correcting Philip, says, "Birdy's cafe." Almost ripping the phone out of Tom's hand, Barry takes command of the communication device. "Chad?" Relaying the information, Barry hangs up real quick, eager to get over to Birdy's. "I'm coming," Denis more orders than suggests. Officer Riley Sanchez, not a strict follower of rules, but always seemingly gets away with it, offers limousine service, sirens fully blasting. "Kevin Spangler picked him up," Barry relays the information. "Well thank God it wasn't a stranger," Steve says. "Dad," Denis meekly asks, "what do I say to him?" "What does your heart tell you, son?" "I.... I love my brother and all, but I'm not sure if it's the way Mark feels it for me." "Not sure?" Barry asks. "Are you having doubts about what you told us earlier?" Steve questions their teenaged son. "I got to thinking..." Steve looks to Barry, smiling. "Well, in the two years I've know Mark, of it, maybe I've known him, really have got to know him in about a year of those two." "Oh?" Barry stirs up the conversation, meaning to provoke. "Yeah. I think Mark's a really good looking guy and we've had some..." Denis pauses on the subject, not a comfortable conversation piece between fathers and son, "some good feelings, in bed," he tries putting it gently, "but more than `that', we like doing the same stuff together." "Then it's a sure-fire thing you two are meant to shack up together!" Barry replies, "Riley, do you mind keeping your thoughts to yourself?" "Yeah, okay. Just trying to help the kid out!" It's rarely anyone goes against Riley Sanchez. He promotes the feeling of `he is right and not to say anything to dispute it', but there are some who aren't afraid to share the same aspect. "Go on Denis," Barry tells him. "I love Mark like I love my other brothers, but I don't know if I `love' love him. Know what I mean?" Steve shares, "Like your father pointed out," talking about Barry's response earlier, "you can't force yourself to love somebody. It has to come freely from within," Steve places his palm over his left pec. "Your dad's right," Barry adds. "It takes time to fall in love." "That's not how it happened with you two!" Denis had something there. Almost immediately, two years ago, Bernice Bridges, introducing Barry to Steve, jogging up the neighborhood road, apparently sensed they were destined to be together. "I'm not going to dispute it," Barry explained, "there are rare instances when two people meet for the first time and have this sense of wanting to be together, a stronger persistance, than having to wait it out to see what develops." "Do you think Mark is like that?" "Did you feel a special connection when you two met?" "Not really. I thought Mark was an okay guy. I figured he thought the same about me." A pause developed, Denis thinking back to the first time he met Mark, having to share their home with the Barr boys. He thought of the whole summer, a year ago, they rode their bikes all around the neighborhood, taking their first long trip, almost all day, up the road to the county line. His thoughts brought back the memory of how they had to call their dads to come and get them, it getting too dark to ride all the way home. More afraid than Mark, he welcomed the arm around his shoulders, the talk from his step-bro, calming him, telling him they would be soon `rescued'. He knew Mark cared, but wasn't precise about his feelings in return. "I think I'll have to think more about it." "Sounds like a good idea," Steve replied, giving Denis a hug, as he sat between the two dads. With Birdy's Cafe in the distance, Denis once again dove into the panic mode. "But what do I say to him now?" "Do you love your brother?" "I just said so, but..." "Then give him a damn hug and tell him!" Steve and Barry thought Riley had a good answer. "Is that what I should do?" Denis needed the go ahead from his dads. "Sound advice, I'd say," Steve replied. "I'd say so myself." Barry agreed, "For now I think your brother needs to know you love him, no matter what it is taken as." "I `do' love him." Riley made it to Birdy's Cafe, running every stop sign and red light, the priveleged few who had access to breaking the law, legally. Calming the siren, at the corner, turning left onto the small street behind Birdy's, commonly known as Birdy's Road, the police cruiser make two more quick turns, pulling into the parking lot. "Geesh, Reilly, I'm glad I don't have to ride with you everyday!" Steve added to his partner's comments, "Where'd you get your license? Nascar?" "Get out before I arrest you for assaulting an officer!" The dads thanked him, then hustled along, this time in Denis' trail. As hurried as Denis was to find his brother, when his hand touched the door handle, he froze. "What's the matter son?" Turning to Barry, Denis replied, "I'm still not sure about all of this." "Go on faith. Remember, love conquers all," Steve added. Under his breath, as Barry held the door, allowing their eighteen year old son enter, he mumbles to Steve, "And I thought you slept during the sermons!" He joked back, "I thought that was you snoring," poking Barry in the ribs. Slowly, as Denis walked over to the circular, wooden table, where Mark was parked, Kevin and Michael picked up their mugs and retreated. Approaching the dads, they thanked Kevin, giving him hugs. "What am I? Chopped liver?" It was Michael's way of expressing the lack of affection from the dads. Saving the dads, Kevin suggests, "How about opening up your bar for something stronger?" "Yeah. Sure." The two disappeared into the adjoining room. Barry and Steve approached Mark and Denis, sitting next to each other. "I wanted to tell you that... " Then Denis turned to the dads, saying, "Um, this is kind private?" The dads took the hint. "Why don't we go see what Kev and Birdy are up to?" Barry suggests. Watching, his gaze following the dads, he waited til invisible from his sight. "First of all, I'm sorry I made you run away." "Yeah, okay," Mark replied, still with the glum attitude. "Mark," Denis took the big step, looking at each dad, as they sat at the round table, "I want to tell you I... I kind of love you." "No you don't." "Yeah, I do really. I kind of liked you when I first saw you." Then, matter-of-factly Denis adds, "I thought of you as kind of hot!" "Me?" "Yeah. Plus, you had on these cool jeans." "I've had them a year. Hadn't washed them for two weeks," Mark replied. "I thought you looked cool in them and maybe you could be a cool guy." Then nobody could stop Denis, as he told Mark he thought he could be a `cool friend', but it turned out he was `cooler than cool' and at some point, during their summer bicycle ride, taking them further than they wanted to go, it became the `coolest' when Mark had his arm around him. "So?" Mark said, to all of the five minutes of jabbering. "Damn," Denis replied, apparently frustrating all his efforts. Slumped in his chair, his chin flopped onto his chest. His eyes became mistly. Then Denis did something he's not done in years. Cried. He also began talking in the manner he and Mark would communicate when the dads weren't around, another reason he was glad they weren't around! "I got so fuckin' scared when they said you ran away, Mark." Mark sat there, looking at Denis, himself on the verge of a breakdown. "After hearing about other guys that runaway, I got so damned scared that...that...something would happen to you." Breaking out into a fullscale assault of tears, Denis yells, "Well fuckin' say something!" Instead of words, Mark pushed his chair back, turned it slightly towards Denis. All it took was a few seconds and the two, with the new magnetism, drifted into each other's arms. % "How was he?" There, at the door to their room, stood Maury Passat and his lover, Ricardo, fully unveiled. "Don't you know how to fuckin' knock?" Jim joked. "My house." "Not your bedroom though, so fuckin' knock next time?" "I'll think about it. So, how did our slaveboy do?" Flanked on both sides, as Jim lay in the bed, his arm cuddled Jim in his arms. The twenty-eight year old lay there, but more to himself. "He's a good rimmer," Connor elicits. "Really? So, it's the bottom turned top, I see?" "Oh no," Connor reflected on, "Ron rimmed me, as I sucked Jim." Then, directing to Ron, Maury asks, "So, how did you like it?" "Well," Ron spoke mild-manneredly, "I didn't get to taste Jim's cock, but his balls tasted mightly good." "Oh what a shame. You didn't get to taste his cream, eh?" "No, but I thought Connor's jizz tasted might creamy and good." "Yeah," Connor filled Maury and Ricardo in, "jim allowed us to 6-9, while he stroked off his second load and ... hey wait a minute," he recalls, "it's not true you didn't taste Jim's jizz. You helped me clean up his stomach and pubes." Maury went to say something, but Connor commanded the conversation at this point. "Oh yeah," Ron fessed up, "I forgot about that." "Forgot about lapping up my creamy goo?" Jim accused. "Now I remember!" Conner, sitting up, as well as Ron, commented, giving out compliments for each other. "Yeah, and when we tried to induce Jim into shooting his third load, Ron did such a good job making Jim's balls boil!" Maury giggled, inciting Ricardo to do the same. "Hell yeah!" Jim added, "Ron's sure got a hot tongue. Shit! Added to his," Connor's, "hot cocksucking technique, they had me blasting a third load." Connor made sure he'd stated, "But we both kind of agreed only my ass gets the benefit of Jim's shaft, fucking me!" "But," Maury pointed out, finger extended, making an enunciated point, "there's no reason why `your' shaft," he pointed then to Connor, "can't be shoved up `his' ass?" "That's right," Connor says to Jim, astounded. "Why didn't we think of that?" "Because you're not a top, dah?" Jim reverberates the idea. "Oh yeah, but...." "Hmmm, so you think you could enjoy Ron again, eh?" Maury asks, all smiles. Feeling neglected, Ricardo joins in, "But what about my needs?" The teens, along with Ron, badger Maury with, `ooooohs' of exclamation. "And what's wrong with my fuck-toy?" "Nothing." Like has happened before, Ricardo's `alpha' side kicks in. "It's just `you'," his finger pounds on Maury's hairy chest, dead-center, "promised me Ron could sleep with us!" All forced with smiled, he states, "Hee hee... did I say that, sweetheart?" Jim whispers to Connor, Ron overhearing, "Hmm... who rules the roost in that relationship?" While Maury and Ricardo take up with their conversation, Ron asks, "May I say something?" "Sure," Jim replies, "we don't go for all that master-slave stuff all the time. What's up?" "I wanted to tell you I had a great time with you too. Other than you two, I've only had sex with Maury and Ricardo." "Really?" Connor asks. "News to us. I mean about Ricardo." "Yeah," Jim adds, "we figured Maury, okay, but...." "Yes. Ricardo can be real sweet." "Are you talking orally or anally?" Connor jokes. Bringing out the laughter in the three, Maury breaks off his heated conversation with Ricardo. "Hey, boy, who told you that you can laugh?" "Um, my master?" Ron replies, bravely. "You're losing it, Maury!" "I am `not' losing it!" Ricardo keeps up the badgering. "See what happens when you `share' too much?" "I want my slaveboy back. Ron, come here!" "No fuckin' way, Maury. You gave him to us!" Jim plays on Maury's authority. "Now what am I supposed to do?" Maury asks Ricardo. "Easy," Ricardo replies, whimsically, "get us another one?" "Hmm... sounds good." With that, the door closed, another solved problem, in the life of Maury Passat. "So, now that we've got him, what do we do with him?" Ron replies to Connor, "Use me of course." "Do you like being used? I mean," Jim questions the twenty-eight year old, "roleplaying is okay, but in between roleplaying and real life, what are you looking for?" "A guy to love me." Connor jumps in with, "So why do you have to make it feel like being used?" "The way I had it explained to me is from my `childhood'." "Way back then?" "I'm twenty-eight years old. My childhood ended when I started college, ten years ago. It's not a lot of time." "What happened?" Jim asked, curious. Lying out in between, Connor lay down, real close to Jim, his smooth chest next to Jim's right pec, snuggly in his armpit, his teen treasure trail butt up against Jim's torso. Ron, slowly as he explained getting bullied and other sorts of treatment, lay down. At some point, he turned on his side, facing Jim, propped up on his right elbow. Without thinking, his hand had landed on the top of Jim's thigh. Oh, Jim took notice alright, but didn't make it obvious. Soon he was feeling mighty good, with two busy hands, one rubbing his thigh, Connor's hand fondling his orbs. "So you got used to those thugs you talked about, punching you in the stomach and doing other stuff to you?" "Exactly." Connor added the question to Jim's, "And you didn't tell anybody?" "Sure I did, but after a couple of times and nobody doing anything about it, well what can a fifteen year old do? I felt helpless, with nobody to come to bat for me. I gave up and just took it and I suppose that's why I'm... like this..." "We didn't tell you what happened to Connor and probably you haven't read about it." "Probably not. If it didn't happen within the last six month's most likely not. It's when I moved here." "Oh, then you wouldn't have heard about it," Jim replied, looking at Connor. He then asked his teen lover, "You okay with talking about it?" "I'm fine with it... I suppose," Connor shrugged his shoulders. "Are you sure?" Turning his head towards his eighteen year old lover, Jim pulls him in for a tender kiss, embellishing on his already caring manner of speaking. "I'm sure." After Jim keels back, onto the mattress, Ron says, "You two really are in love, huh?" "Yeah," Jim replies for both. Conner nods in the affirmative. "How lucky you two are." "Yeah, we are." "So, what happened to you? Was it something that brought you together?" "Sort of friends before it happened," Conner reports, "but what happened to me kind of solidified it." "Yeah," Jim adds, "I kind of had the thoughts we should.. no would always be together, but what happened to Conner, made it more realistic." "Tell him, Jim," Conner passed on the task. "Okay." Then, turning his smooth bod towards dark, hairy chest, the tight trail running down his stomach, he lay out the foundation for the story, which took over ten minutes to tell. He told, from what Connor told him, plus the final police report, reviewed by himself and his lover, of the homophobic attack, the beating, leaving Connor unconscious, the whipping. All along, Connor nestled his body close to his lover. A couple of times, Jim asked him if he was alright. Connor replied he was okay with it. Ron kept shaking his head, telling them he could relate to this and that. "I know how it could feel. Well, I can't tell how `you' felt, but I know the feeling of getting whipped on my back, bare, with a leather belt. At the time, it was very painful, physically and emotionally, not as pleasure." Connor contested Ron's feelings, stating, "Not that we've tried it, but I wouldn't want to be whipped again." "With Maury, it became a `need'. It gets my endorphins going. Yeah," Ron lay back thinking about it, "getting whipped is part of a normal thing for me." "It's something I'd never be able to do to a guy," Jim frankly said. Putting it more into perspective, Ron says, "If it feels very good to a guy, to feel the pain, frankly making me feel very good sexually, making my cock leak, don't you think you would be doing a guy a service, Jim?" "Hmm... I never thought of it like that, but still I'm not sure." Connor adds, "I know I couldn't go through with it. I wouldn't be able to watch it either, so if you two want to do it, count me out." "Me? Whip Ron?" Ron added, "I wasn't suggesting it." "Oh. I thought that's what you were driving at, Ron." "Not at all. I was relating the experience. That's all." "We're no strangers to things Maury does, but for myself doing it, I don't know." "That's okay. I really had a great time servicing you two guys, but mind if I split?" "Not until we get our hug!" Jim replies, smiling. % Walking into Birdy's backroom, the off hours pub, Barry and Steve found Kevin and Michael having a rip-roaring, good time. As the minutes ticked by, it had become obvious they were developing a close `friendship'. "Well, I think we've given the boys enough time to settle their differences." Kevin adds, "A warning, they might not be fully talked out." "Oh, I don't doubt that, Kev, but thanks for the advice." "Yeah," Michael Byrd confides, "it took years for my dad and I..." then he closed up, "never mind." Leaving at that, Steve and Barry departed company. "So, you and your dad didn't get along?" "No. Forget about it." Being blunt about the closing of the subject, Kevin invented a new one. "Nice pub you've got here. I don't think I've ever been in it. But," he takes the empty glass from Michael's hand, "I think you need a refill. Let me make you up something more potent?" As Michael watched, Kevin went to business, popping caps, pouring, shaking, clinking bottles. He uplifting the cafe owner's spirits, tossing a bottle, sending it round and round, top to bottom-over to top, uncapped, not spilling one drop. "How did you learn all those fancy tricks?" "Bartended with a pro one summer, at the country club. He had been tipping bottles for over fifty years, staring out when he was fifteen." "Really? Where?" "New Orleans. He came north after the hurricane wiped his bar out, then drifted west to California. I was damn fortunate to make his acquaintance. There.... try that. It's a special Willie taught me to make that ain't in any recipe book!" Kevin poured one for himself. After a few sips, they kind of got loco. Even though Kevin played along the part of a straight guy, Michael, with a low tolerance for a strong drink, didn't let it cross his mind. "You know you've got beautiful eyes?" Lighting up, like fireworks, feeling the energy, Kevin felt such excitement when Michael brought it up. "If that a fact?" It had been slightly inactive, but as Michael's secret became public, Kevin's balls became active, his cock throbbing. "Yeah," he continued his stare. Never having even thought of coming on to a man, being newly out, it had to be `the influence' irking him on so boldly. "I think you're fuckin' sexy!" That's all Michael needed to hear. Placing his hand behind Kevin's head, he leaned forward, at the same moment flexing his arm, bringing the man next to him into his face. Only the second man to ever kiss him, the first time not really counting, since he had been fourteen and it had been on the cheek, Kevin slid off his barstool, his arms flopped to the sides, as Michael's engulfed the man, like wildfire out of control. With lips still glued to Kevin's, the thirty-one year old reached down, picking up Kevin's lifeless limbs and placing them on his own torso. With coercion, to follow his suggestions, Michael fully embraced Kevin, rubbing up and down his back, not breaking the man-to-man oral fixation. Breaking, Michael had to literally keep Kevin from falling backwards. "Ain't never been kissed like that!" Came Kevin's reaction. "I'd like to do more than that with you!" Turning to the bar, Michael took the decanter, half full and poured it out into the two glasses. Filling Kevin's glass, he paid too much attention to the sexy guy next to him. "Heeeey! Watch it! Watch it!" "Oops!" Kevin went to shake the liquid off his hand. Instead, Michael takes it and starts licking Kevin's hand. "Hmm..." Kevin could tell, not right now, but later, how much alcohol he had in his system, when Michael told him it was `he' suggesting they take this to more intimate quarters! % Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.