Date: Thu, 27 Oct 2005 17:59:54 -0400 (EDT) From: T Chase Subject: Nature Walk 061 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 upon 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 state 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? "Nature Walk" 61 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % A year later.... % "Think fast, Steve!" The gang laughed, as Barry had faked his partner out, tossing the egg, but not tossing it to him, as Steve stood before the sizzling frying pan, on the stovetop. "Oh, don't you worry... I'll get even!" Steve winked, cheerfully going along with the joke. "Dad-Callan, woulda Dad-Barry really throw'd the egg to Dad-Steve?" eleven year old Diego inquired of his number 2 dad. Smiling, the blond dad replied, "You never know what those two are thinking, son." Callan rustled Diego's blond, shaggy haircut, giving Barry and Steve a wink. Then, out of nowhere, came the question that pestered his biological father, "Daddy, when am I gonna get a brother?" Alonzo wondered how this question worked into the conversation. For a moment, a diversion ensued, from one of the Barr siblings. "Don't you remember, Diego that me and Aidan told you that we can be your brothers, til you get one?" Philip replied. "I know, but you guys get to live together. I wanna brother to live with me. Daddy, when am I gonna get a brother, too?" His father just didn't know. Diego sat between his dads, so it was easy for Callan to help his lover ad lib on the answering of the touchy question. "Hey, pal," Callan proceeded, placing his arm around Diego, hugging him to his side, "neither of us know when, exactly, but I'm sure someday there will be some boy who needs a loving home. You know we love you very much and want to have another son, a playmate for you?" Aidan says, sarcastically, "Oh, isn't that sweet?" Philip at first laughs, until Aidan's dad picks up on it. "Um, I don't think that is so funny, son," Steve reprimands him. Aidan and Philip wipe the smiles off of their faces. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself, young man?" Barry, the harsher disciplinarian asks of Aidan. "Yeah, okay. Sorry Dad-Callan." Diego turns to Callan, placing his hand on his hairy arm and replies, "Aidan didn't mean it daddy, honest he didn't. He was just joking." Over the past several months, since the house switching has evolved, Callan and Alonzo found themselves setting up their lovenest together, things falling into place, with their son, Diego. Diego, only a year older, began to wean from his more juvie vocabulary, changing his ways to the more grownup, 'dad' for Callan and retaining the 'daddy' for his real dad. "Yeah, okay," Callan replied, giving Diego a loving kiss on his forehead, as an acceptance. He also reassured Aidan that his apology was accepted. "So, did Pastor Greg fill you boys in on what to take on the overnight?" "Your father's right," Steve broke in on Barry's thoughts. "It's only a week away and you boys will be trasping through the woods. We don't want any last minute surprises." "Not like last year's, campout, at least," Barry reiterated. They laughed at it now. "Oh yeah. Like that really sucked last year, when I had to share all my socks and underwear with you little squirts!" Eric replied, only to get the eyes from dad-Steve. Eric got the message that the word, 'sucked' wasn't meant for usage around the breakfast table. "Oops! Sorry." Letting it go over his head, Philip says, as his dad helped Steve divy up the scrambled eggs, "Chad and Matty are supposed to get the lists for us." "I think you better give your brother a call," Steve suggested. "Now?" Philip asked, looking at his plate of mushy, steaming eggs. "Well, not at this minute, but maybe after breakfast." "I got an idea, Phil." "What's that Aidan?" "Why don't we go over to their place and find out?" "Um, it's Saturday morning," Barry keyed them into, "so I think you boys better call before popping in on them?" Philip then turned it into an impromtu joke. "Oh you bet, dad. Like we didn't know that now that they have their own place, they can run around in the nude?" They all giggled. "Oh yeah, just like my dads do!" A roar of laughter broke out, as Alonzo replied to Diego, not really angered, "Son, somethings are meant to be kept as a secret?" He looked to his partner, who responded with a smile. No real criminal thought had transpired and Diego's dad made light of the reprimand. What constituted a thought from a young mind, to an adult like Steve, peering across the table, spying the thick mat of dark brown hair, V-shaped, showing at the top of his partner's robe, the prospects of running around nude, in their private room, began to stir him up. Suddenly, the taste of the buttery eggs seemed bland, in comparison to the thick sausage he could be munching on upstairs. "Um, Steve?" "Yeah?" He broke out of his reverie, to answer his lover. Barry repeated his question, this time with Steve's full attention, "Your son wanted to know something?" "Oh sure. What is it, Eric?" "Um, not that we haven't tried it or anything..." The high school junior looked kind of red, signs of embarrassment filling his face, even before the question popped out of his mouth. "Yes?" Steve prodded, at the breath break in conversation. "Well, um..." Denis spoke outright, "What Eric wants to know is, is there any set age at when a guy can first fuck another guy?" "Denis, you bastard!" World War III began to break forth, as Eric and Dennis went at it, barking insults to and fro. Steve and Barry tried halting the confrontation. Aidan and Philip wanted to hear more. Young, inquisitive minds, wanted to know stuff like this. Alonzo shielded Diego's ears, with his hands. Almost finished with breakfast, Callan stood and began to clear the table. "Well, I guess we better get back to the house. Laundry day," he said, as he rinsed the plates and went for the dishwasher. "Leave that, Callan," Steve called out. "Hmm, bet you can't wait til sis and Jade get back from their honeymoon?" Steve acknowledged Callan's remark, with, "And how, however I don't think this conversation can wait!" By this time, Barry had forcibly excused Philip, Aidan, Mark and Tom. Eric and Denis knew they were in a heap of trouble. They now sat there, looking evilly at each other, across the table. "Well, your dishes aren't going to walk themselves over to the sink!" Steve directed to the two boys left alone at the table. "Want to get a move on it, boys? We've all got things to do today?" Barry reinforced Steve's directive. Steve quipped, "Not to mention that in roughly an hour we'll get our 'nature walk' call from your Aunt Bernice?" That meant 'hustle'! Both boys, now refusing to even glare at each other, picked up their plates and glasses. Each made it a point not to confront each other, in the spacious, triangular shaped kitchen. Eric went around Steve's left, depositing his plate and glass, while Denis made his way to Barry's right. All four returned to the long, wooden dining table, stretching a good length of the kitchen. "Now, what's this about Eric?" "Why not ask Denis, since he's in the habit of spying on me?" Eric suggests, in a grumpy tone of voice. "I wasn't spying... I...." Barry interrupts, "Alright! That's enough. Regardless of whatever has been said, I think we have a more important thing to discuss here." Turning his head to his partner, Barry moved it into Steve's ballpark. He sat there for a moment, until Barry made a motion. "Um, Steve?" The old Chatsworth place, graciously remodeled by Bernice Bridges, which included an indoor sauna and hot tub, as well as other amenities. Something that had occured, shortly after moving into the new house, both fathers found it to be, that on many occasions Barry had become the dominant figure, not only in their bedroom play, but with the boys' discipline. Barry had now made it an effort, in accordance with their agreement of Steve's 'hung back' attitude, to incorporate both dads, in their quest for equal partnership. "Me? Oh yeah, well.... um... uh... okay, well what do you think about it, Denis?" "Huh?" Denis asked, looking to Barry for a clue to his father's query. "I think," Barry helped his lover out, "what your dad means is 'what do you think about...' well, to put it plainly, Eric's inquiry about 'fucking'?" Steve gave Barry raised eyebrows, at first, but then succumbed to the same down-to-earth manner. "Yes, son," Steve tried broadening the subject, "why don't you give us some of your thoughts on what age two guys should start fucking around?" After the way put to it to Denis, he had a flashback in his mind of this past week. At the meeting of the high school 'GG&G', 'Gay Guys'n'Girls', originally chaired by Steve, but now co-chaired with his lesbian counterpart, the elementary school principal, Washakie's niece Marsha, his minded churned out nearly the same remake of the question. Steve felt a hundred times more in touch, as he listened to the banter from the gay high school fellows, toss their feelings around the room. Although, some of it would not be fit for repeating, as the 'fucking' subject got a bit offkey! However, for the four, the subject of fucking and it's loose usage of the word, broke down the age barrier. It didn't seem to matter that Eric was sixteen, nor Denis eighteen, nor Barry and Steve adults. The four resembled a discussion group, bent on taking the subject by the horns and resolving it. "G'morning, anybody home?" At this moment, Eric and Denis both showed tons of relief, Denis especially, as the knock at the back door provided them with a walking encyclopedia on sex and anything else that became the subject on an emotional plane. Even Steve and Barry thought it a diversion to break up the stagnancy of the atmosphere. "Jacq, welcome!" Barry stood to greet him. Steve welcomed his son, Sean, with a warm hug, then quickly broke their embrace. "Cup of coffee? Breakfast?" Steve asked, already going for the cup. Barry said, a hand to his shoulder, "C'mon, sit down a spell with us!" Jacq and Sean exchanged glances. They both knew Jacq was getting a 'snow job' here. After all, both dads practically ignored Sean, channeling all their attention to Jacq. "Um, think I'll see what the guys have ready for the camping trip," Sean noted, rubbing his hands together. Of course Sean's thoughts seemed to go right over their heads, with little comment, as did his vacating the room. "Yeah, you do that, Sean," his father said. Jacq managed to nod and say, "Later, babe," smiling, knowing what the jig was. Steve had the steaming coffee poured out, as Barry grabbed some scrambled remnants off of the griddle, scooping it onto a plate, quickly buttering some toast. Jacq, already cued into the two boys, sitting there, did some inquiring. "You boys having some problems in school?" Steve answered, "And at home." Again Denis lay the subject on the table, plainly, "Eric wants to know if it's right to fuck at our age." This time Eric kept his cool, as did Denis. Now that Jacq was present, they turned to grilling his scientific brain from a practical view, regarding the 'sensitive' subject. A bit surprised, when Steve and Barry sat down, Eric asked, "Um, dads, do you think we can talk with Jacq, like alone?" "Alone?" Barry asked, half sitting in his chair, ready to pull it under his ass, to sit. "Like, by yourselves?" Steve quesioned the motive. However, it was Jacq's smile and look that prompted the dads to resign to the fact that the boys wanted their privacy with the present professional, more like a paying session. "Good thing to have Jacq around, huh Steve?" Barry commented, as they strode into the livingroom. "Yeah, but kinda made me anxious to hear what's on the boy's minds." "I'm sure Jacq can fill us in later." "Guess you're right Barry. Better this way anyway." "Oh? Why's that Steve?" "Well, the talk of fucking will just make me horny. Make me think of how hot it feels to have you sink into 'my' ass!" "Yeah, kind of does the same to me. In fact..." Barry did a quick look around, then parted his bathrobe to show his briefs sporting a slight tent. "Hmm.... looks like you're needing some attention there, lover." "What are we standing here for?" >From the livingroom, the house broke off into several 'bungalows'. Some contained sleeping quarters, others the sauna and hot tub, or the entrance to the three car garage, exits to the backyard or the den or playrooms. Prior to their moving in, about a year ago, same time as the church camping trip, which Barry and Steve got roped into chaperoning, along with Sean, Jacq, Chad, Matty, Terence Beethoven and others, became a good vehicle for Bernice Bridges to descend on the place with an open wallet. Over a weekend, the place changed dramatically, with workers almost falling over each other, to modify much of the rundown areas in two days. The barn took more time, but the initial start began the transformation of the old facility, into a modern stable, complete now with horses. She had the famous landscaper from California, Tom Lynch, flown in, to remodel the backyard into a masterpiece of comfort, complete with an enclosed, heated swimming pool. Of course, Rome wasn't built in a day and neither did everything come together during that short weekend. However, when Barry's and Steve's family returned from their camping trip, they had been astounded by the degree of change, plus forthcoming drawings of what was to become. % Worth mentioning, Tom Lynch set out for town in his truck, given directions to town, to pick up some peat moss. He got lost and wound up near the church. Getting out of his 4x4, he walked around the side, to see if possibly the pastor or someone else was about, for direction. On a tall, wooden ladder, doing some leaf removal of the gutter, Terrence stepped on a rotten rung. It snapped. It was Terrence's fortunate experience to have Tom step up to inquire, that provided him with a soft landing. Fortunately, for Tom, Pastor Greg and the youth group had done some leaf raking during the week, to make the grounds look nice for Sunday. The bed of leaves made a nice bed for Tom to fall backwards into. Both had something in common; former football players. "Ooooomphhhhh!" the twenty-seven year old landscaper grunted, the wind knocked out of him. Terrence took a minute to recover, then said, almost yelling, "I'm alive!" "Lucky you... I think I'm half dead!" the voice came from the pulverized landing debris. Suddenly Terrence realized that there had been more substance to the pile, than moldy leaves. "Hey, you alright?" "I... think.... so..." he replied, his two hands rubbing his pecs, then stomach, one ending lower on his body. At the same pace, Terrence, now standing above, gazing down, scanned along with the moving hands. Tom, catching his right hand pause over his crotch, immediately removed it, as if it was hot to the touch, like a heated iron. He also made a mental note that Terrence wasn't keeping attuned to his face and that he lingered at his crotch. He wondered. "Um, uh... here, take my hand," Terrence finally said. "Take it easy now." Slowly Tom's broad shoulders lifted from the squashed pile of tree fallings. "Play football?" "Football?" Tom replied to Terrence's inquiry, glancing to the lower body of the attached hand. "Yeah, um," Terrence replied, catching himself before making mention of Tom's tight pecs that stretched his tee shirt, underneath the flannel overcoating. He alluded to, "Tight grip," meaning their interlocking hands. "College, you?" Now that they stood upright, facing each other, the obvious presented itself. Both had been built like tanks. Twenty-six year old Terrence Beethoven stood there, at six feet, two hundred and ten pounds. Tom Lynch boasted two hundred and twenty-eight pounds, on his six foot two frame. Neither had to fill the other in on the basic representation. "Yeah. Mammoth Falls University, a few years back," he reported back to Tom. "You?" "Dallas, until I suffered a knee injury. Then it came down to swabbing the lockerroom floor, but at least I got to hang with the team. Um, want to let go of my hand?" "Oh yeah," Terrence replied, really wanting to hang onto more! "Hey, want a beer?" "At nine-thirty in the morning?" Tom replied. "Oh yeah. Forgot. Time flies when you're having fun," Terrence said sarcastically. "What are you, the sexton or something?" Terrence wanted to divide the word 'sexton' in half and reverse it, then apply it, as he gazed upon the tall hunk. "I help out on Saturday's at the church. It's a part time job for me." The reason for Tom's arrival at the the church had momentarily become erased from memory. "What do you do full time?" He asked. "How about a coffee?" Terrence switched the menu, looking for an excuse to detain the stranger. "I could go for that." "This way. By the way, I'm Terrence Beethoven." "Like the composer?" "Distant relative." "No shit? Really?" "Very distant. How about you? Close relative of the invisible man?" "Oh yeah. Tom. Tom Lynch here." Hand shakes had already taken place. As if a natural reaction to meeting up with his old college football pals, Dalton, Eddie and the gang, he put his hand over Tom's shoulder and pulled him to the side. "Didn't want you to slip on the spot where the water poured in here last night." Unknowingly, when Terrence touched Tom's shoulder, he sent a wave of heat through the twenty-seven year old's body. In response, Tom's arm lifted and went around the back of Terrence, resting on the other side of his torso. For whatever reason, Tom felt comfortable leaving it there. A wild idea filled Terrence's brain, but first he had to know something. As they entered the solitude of the church kitchen, Terrence asked Tom, "Play anything besides football at college?" "Nah. Nothing interests me more than that." "No, um, karate or anything like that self defense stuff?" "Nope. Why?" "Well, I might live to regret this, but here goes!" Looking around, Terrence made sure they were alone. That's when he took his big chance. Swinging around, in front of Tom, he gave him a bear hug, placing his palms up against the football player's back, drawing their chests together. He plastered his lips up against Tom's. When they broke, Tom said, "Except wrestling." However, Tom didn't react roughly, much to Terrence's relief. "Good thing. They just remodeled the kitchen last fall." Nothing was phasing Tom at the moment, except Terrence, whom stood there in front of him, hands still firming each other's torsos, at the beltline. "Well, how about that coffee?" Tom wasn't a sassy guy, however the heat of the moment turned up his energy drive. He wanted something real bad. "How about your bed?" Flashing a toothy grin, Terrence replied, "You work fast, huh Tom?" "Me? I'm not the Beethoven that composed the 'Prelude To A Rape'!" Tom surprised himself. Never in his life had he felt compelled to speak such lude remarks, however Terrence was driving him on, forcing his loins to turn him into a sex maniac. "Rape, huh?" Dropping his hand from Tom's belted jeans, Terrence found the reason for the horny attitude. "Looks like you're ready to rape the fullback!" It became Tom's turn to grin, plus his lust continued to build, along with the infilling of his jeans. "You live nearby?" "Very near," Terrence replied, then continued, as he turned and walked towards the door, "follow me, said the spider to the fly!" He led Tom through a myriad of doorways, to the room where Pastor Greg had made love to him about a year ago. The same room where Estefan, Pastor Greg and he had had more than a few threeway affairs, until he became the 'crowd' part of 'three's a crowd'! "Hey, look... I... I'm sorry, Terrence." "Huh?" Terrence did a double look at Tom's sudden cold feet. "I... I shouldn't have let my crotch override my feelings... I...." Terrence, whom had already pulled his tee shirt out of his pants and hiked it up to his pecs, exposing his red-haired belly and deep navel, let it relax. As if he's known Tom for half a lifetime, he moved closer to him, saying, "What's the matter, babe?" Tom's dark brown head of hair stare Terrence in the face, as his chin touched his tee shirted chest. "Let me guess," Terrence continued, his hands on his own torso, "I'm the first guy you've had sex with?" Voluntarily, Tom raised his head. Across his red face, a wry smile spread. "Nothing to be ashamed of Tom." "I'm twenty-seven years old," is all Tom could think of saying. "So?" "I haven't even sucked a guy's cock." "So?" "So, like hear I am talking like I'm God's gift to the world of gaysex and..." Tom ended his defense. Terrence drew on his experiences, sitting in on quite a few of the 'GG&G' meetings with Steve and the guys at the high school, where he taught phys ed. "Nothing to be ashamed about, Tom," he said calmly, placing a hand on Tom's shoulder. "The way I look at it is that you've been saving yourself up for a special guy. C'mon. Let's have that coffee, eh?" Tom shook his head, 'yes'. % Exiting the livingroom, Barry and Steve ascended the three stairs to their private 'bungalow', closing the door behind them. "Mmmmmmmm," is all Steve alluded to, as Barry dropped his robe. Steve did the rest, peeling his lover's briefs, as he sank to his knees, his tongue already outstretched, wanting to tongue Barry's cock. Slightly spreading his legs, Barry threw his head back, moaning, a hand going to Steve's head. He wasn't forcing his cock into Steve's mouth, but rather petting it, as Steve submitted on his own. "Ooooooooh yeah!" Barry called out, closing his eyes, totally mesmerized by Steve delivering the beginnings of a hot blow job. % Continued..... Copyright 2005 T. Luke McPhee All World Rights Reserved This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.