Date: Tue, 7 Nov 2006 11:42:00 -0800 (PST) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: "STRIPEs" 11 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. % "STRIPEs" 11 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % "Sorry I'm late!" Leaping into the diningroom, I traveled around the table, to my usual place-setting, a short stop to peck him `mom' on the cheek. "That's a first!" "What?" I questioned Mark. "Showing such affection to mom?" "Oh. I've done it before. What's the big deal?" "Um," Mark heckled me, "last time, I think it had been about six years ago?" "Bull..." I stopped short of the curse. "Um, I mean I prolly did it after that." I looked over to the matriarch of the Garrison family. "Didn't I?" "Sure you have," she replied. "See?" I told Mark off. She added, belated, "Once a year, on Christmas day," then smartly tickled us with `teenage talking', "Dah!" For mom to act like `one of us', made us laugh our asses off. Dad commented, "Talk like them and soon you'll start feeling like them!" Mark threw in, "Just don't think about dressing like us, okay mom?" "I don't know," she was on a roll, moving her hair so the long length swayed back and forth, "I thought maybe I'd add some red highlights?" "I'll disown you!" Junior, now fifteen, blurted out. Adding fuel to the firestorm of laughter, helped to erase questions regarding my tardiness to dinner. However, later, as Mark and I readied ourselves for bed, `somebody' didn't forget. "So," he asked, as our bare bodies nestled together, in the full-sized bed, "why `were' you late for dinner?" >From lying on my back, usually the first position I take up, when getting into bed, I turned to my side, my head sitting on my right palm, my elbowed pressing against my pillow. My left arm fell over my bod. I had a new sense of renewal and excitement. "If you hadn't asked me, I think I would have burst!" "So?" Male-to-male, Mark in the same position, facing me, I rattled off the after school activity. "He weaseled out of fibbing about how he `couldn't ride a surfboard'...." "I'd call it lying, but go ahead." "No, but you see, Aldo really never made it with a guy and he said he used that to get to me." "I don't know, Sean. Sounds kind of sinister to me. A hunk like Aldo an ignoramus? Yeah, sure." "He's not chearp, that's for sure. He bought me a Coconut Frosty, then we went back to... oh shit, you should see this place! The guy's a millionaire... well at least his Uncle Sep is." "Really?" But, Mark wasn't too interested in the multi-layered beach home, nor the unique furnishings. His mind, cock and balls had been set on other details. "So, what about you and Aldo? He take you to his room and get it on?" "No, none of that stuff happened. In fact, don't tell mom, but his Uncle Sep had stuff called `finger foods', which kinda filled me up." "Oh? Didn't look like it at dinner." "Do I look overly full?" I thought my stomach did. I know Mark fibbed, telling me the dark, faint stripe down my stomach, looked more curved, outwardly. "Who cares? What else happened?" "Nothing. Well, until Uncle Sep's lover showed up." "He's gay too?" "Yup." Then the subject changed. Looking at my hands on activity, Mark mentions, "Playing with yourself there, Sean?" By now, I had finished tweaking my own nip. "Oh, something Coach Hanson does. I took notice, then it came to me how he's always feeling up his own bod." As happened this morning, at my locker, my free hand made contact with my stomach, rubbing up my chest. "Oh this. Yeah, a subconscious thing, I suppose." I stopped. I had to laugh, as purposely, Mark places his hand on his own stomach and rubs it up and down, over his teen pecs. "It's okay," he commented, as if on a mediocre opinion of a movie. "So, you want to hear the rest of it?" "There's more?" By this chapter of my afternoon excursion down the beach, my hand had planed down my stomach, to the place of no return, scuffing over the rather advanced traces of fur under my navel. I fell over on my back, my arm going over my eyes, as I shut them, picturing the moment. "We went out to the patio. Real cool view of the ocean." "Forget the ocean, Sean. Get to the meaty part!" I lifted my arm, looked at him. "You know what I mean" he told me, grinning. Smiling, I assumed the position, in the darkened theater of my closed eyes. "Nothing much happened. We sat there, kissed some, talked, kissed some more. The usual, putting our hands under each other's shirt......." Interrupted, not by words, but rather my hand released from my erected shaft, replaced by a wet mouth, I exited my private darkroom and looked up. Smiling, I recovered from the light, recalling facts once more. "It was hot! I felt like a king, Aldo offering up the lounge chair," I replied. Stopping momentarily, I had to get in a few breaths, his tongue traveling up and down my teen shaft. Felt real good, Mark not disappointing me, with his hot technique of `blow-jobbing'! "So?" "No, don't stop!" Like usual it wasn't the top controlling the bottom. "So, we lay there. He kissed my chest, then went to my lips." I paused. "That's it? He didn't suck you off?" "Nope." "How boring!" I don't know what struck me. Friendship, these last few years of good sex with Mark, but a sudden lust overtook me. Call it insane, but I sat halfway up, slid my hands under his armpits, pulled him off my cock and slapped him down in the bed on his back. Turning towards him, I went to work on his lips. "Whooooooa! What the hell was that for?" I lay there for an unknown period of time. Seconds? A full minute? I wasn't counting, as I gazed into his face, looked down deep into his soul. As if something was wrong with what I did, I flipped back over onto my back. Mark followed, resting on his side, as when we first fell into bed. "So, what's up with you Sean?" I lay there, my hands behind my head, the dark pockets of pit hair showing. "I dunno. Why does love have to be so complicated?" "Did you mention love?" I did mention it, didn't I? I looked over to him, totally serious about what I revealed. I had a tough time singling out Aldo, when it came to whom I cared for, loved most in this world. "Yeah," I frankly admitted, turning from his gaze, looking down my body. My hand fell from behind my head, to my stomach. With my index finger, I ran it up and down the stripe extending from the midchest fuzz to my navel. "I...." Mark started, but stopped. "What?" I asked, my finger frozen in place, over my navel, looking to him. Almost blushing, he looked down at the sheet, picking at it. "Y'know, when we first met, after we told each other about liking each other...I also felt something more. Know what I mean, Sean?" He looked up, directly into my eyes, as if telling me it was `my turn'. Smirking, I replied to my bed companion, "Yeah. Me too. And...." His eyes, the look on his face beckoned for me to continue. "I did feel more. I still......" Not being able to hold back my true feelings, I leaned into Mark, kissing him on the forhead. My hands couldn't contain themselves, wanting to have him near me. I wanted his skin to touch my skin. Our bodies touching, feeling the electricity we so many times felt. I don't know how long we went at it, kissing, our bodies pressed together, sliding around each other, as we made sweaty love. All I remember, before falling into a deep sleep, is how hard I fucked him, before releasing my pent up balls into his ass chute. % The next morning, things went on as usual, getting into the shower, drying off, dressing for school. "So, what about last night, Sean?" "What about it?" Both of us stood there, at the jon mirror, trying to make sure our hair was perfect. Suddenly, picking up on Mark, stopped from fixing himself, his face shone with dissapointment. In the midst of spiking the front, I halted my actions, staring into the mirror and at him. "What's the matter now?" I asked, turning towards him. "Nothing." "Bullshit," I wasn't reluctant to say. "C'mon. Tell." "Last night. I thought we had a special moment, Sean." "We did." "So, now you act as if it wasn't anything." I smiled, putting my hands on his torso. "Like I've always told you, Mark. You'll have a special place in my heart." Then came the warning voice of `breakfast is ready'. At the breakfast table, mom asked, "Something wrong, honey?" That's the nick mom always called Mark, when she sensed something amiss. "No. I... I didn't sleep good last night." She looked at me. "Oh, I slept fine," shrugging my shoulders when mom nodded to me, gesturing `what's wrong?' Our regular walk, up Horizon, then turning onto Coronado, went as always, except for the silent treatment. It became my turn to swing around in an `about face'. "I don't care if we're late. What's up, Mark?" "Nothing. I told you." He walked around me, but I reached in the back of his jeans, grasped the beltline and pulled him back. "You're not leaving my sight until you talk! This is about last night, isn't it?" He nodded `yes'. I wasn't sure what to do. As in the past, when something bothered Mark, we talked it out. Today he was being uncooperative. Also, lots of times I gave in, but this was different. "Mark, I don't know what to tell you." In actuality, I wanted to say `I love you', but I also had feelings for Aldo. I needed to think on it. "Okay. I'll talk to you at lunch." My mind wasn't on math, nor english. Even my diving was off. "Sloppy Garrison." "Yeah, okay." Most likely, my attitude, to Coach Hanson, had been equal to Mark's solemn responses, when I tried to get him to open up. "Not okay." I looked up into his face. "Either you can tell me what's bugging you or you can hit the track!" I thought about his threat briefly, knowing it was hot out. In here it wasn't air-conditioning cold, but at least swimming provided a dousing now and then, to get the sweat off. "Okay. Um, I...." "Boy trouble?" "You know?" "Get off it Garrison. I've known you are gay since your freshman year." "You did? How come you didn't mention it?" "It's my business to keep the swim team running. It's none of my business if you like boys or... you know what I mean." I thought it the perfect opporunity, since we are sharing deep, inner secrets, to ask. "Are you?" "I think that's my business." "No fair!" I contested. He smiled at me. "I think you know." "Can I ask you something, Coach?" "Sure. As long as they are the `right' questions." "Have you..." "I don't like it already, but go ahead." We sat on the wooden bleechers, where spectators normally park their butts, during swimming competitions. He leaned back, positioning his elbows on the next rank of seats. "Have you ever made it with a student?" "I knew I wasn't going to like it." Sitting there, for ten seconds, it was dead silence. "Well?" I bullied him. "I don't like the question. Let's move on." "Okay." I'm not sure what was happening. As with Mr. Martin, Gary, I started to get this `uppity' tone. "So, have you ever had sex with any of your students?" "Um, maybe." His normal, coarse manner of speaking, sank to a low pitch. I had my answer already, but wanted to hear him say it. "So?" He looked deeply at me, getting flustered by the second. "Yeah. Okay. So I have." "Rob Lassiter?" "I'm not answering anymore questions." However, I had a different angle of approach. "I'll tell, if you tell!" After my `dare', I kind of thought about it, not wanting to reveal my thoughts. "You've had sex with a teacher?" "You, first," I told him. Swallowing, he replied, "Yes. It was Rob Lassiter." "So, you let him control you?" "How do you know anything about `that'?" "I know. So, is it true?" "We've had some fun." I recalled Mark, dumping his bag of toys on the bed. My question continued, based on what the bag held. "Did he whip you with his flogger?" "Um...." "Put some clamps on your nips?" "Um....." He was pathetic, but at the same time, I gloated, at my alpha endurance. "Did he tie you up?" "Um, maybe." "Maybe?" "Yeah, okay. He did all those things." Coach Hanson was getting a jolt out of my interrogation. As he still leaned back, I had the whole front of him in view. He figeted around, but couldn't hide the fact something was expanding in his crotch. I decided to come clean, based on how I perceived his feeling to be at this moment in time. "You like it when I badger you, don't you?" "Maybe." "You like it when a student tells you to do stuff, don't you?" "Um..." I looked where he gazed. At this point, we both knew about the rise in his pants. "Is this the relationship you had with Rob?" "Yes." "Yes what?" To me, it was a game, to see how far I could go. "Yes......sir?" I then cracked up, laughing my ass off. "I sure had you convinced, didn't I coach?" The thing is, he wasn't laughing! "A crying shame, that's what it is, Sean." I lost my grin, wondering what Coach Hanson was driving at. I figured, the best understanding to be had, was to just go with the flow. "Very good? Me?" "Indeed. Take some lessons from Lassiter?" It then struck me, how coach viewed me. "I've seen him play." Then, as if one of my peers, coach responds, "Cool!" "Cool, huh?" "Maybe you and I could have some fun, Garrison?" "Nope. Not into it." "Yeah, right." There's only one reason Coach Hanson would say something like that. I told him I'd better get back to practice. My cock was almost falling out of my speedos. Good thing I was the only one, besides coach, in the swimming area. "C'mon Sean... shower!" Even though it felt good, being wet down by water, instead of grueling sweat, I needed to get the chlorine off of my skin. A coupla times I opted out, my clothes reeking of the pool chemical, for the rest of the day. "Be right there." I hadn't even realised, coach flew the coop! "Owwch!" "Cut it out, Tony!" I'm not sure where it came from, but the voice of authority wasn't from Coach Hanson, for a change. Plus, I felt I should stand up for Mark, getting his ass whipped by a towel. Sometimes, not that I'm a prude, but rough-housing like this, could lead to a guy getting a lacerated eyeball, or other balls! "Who died and left you in charge, Garrison?" Again, out of a figment of my imagination, came, "Did I say I was in charge, Tony?" My question caught him off guard. "Um, no... but...." "Then leave Mark alone before I whip your butt til it's as red as a hot tamale!" "Go, Sean." I didn't accept anyone's praise or lauds for myself, standing up to Tony. Instead, I remained cool, calm and collective. "Next time you fight your own battles," I told Mark, but knew I'd got to bat for him anytime. "I owe ya." "Yeah, right." I went to ditch my speedo in my locker and in no time, reported to the showers. "Don't go in there, Sean." "Hinton barf again?" "No, much worse." "Look, I've gotta shower. This chlorine is like caked on my skin." Mark stepped to the right, when I did, to the left. He stepped to the left, purposely blocking my entry to the showers, as if walking up Coronada Blvd. "Okay, what's up?" "Hee heee.... funny how we think of doing the same thing, huh Sean?" A big grin on Mark's face even made me more suspicious of him hiding something. "Move it!" Now I was determined more now than ever, to look around, as I made my way into the steamy room. Normally, I wouldn't care much, except to check out another guy's physique. "I told you you shouldn't come in." I had wandered through the shower `tunnel'. Nothing seemed weird, so I journeyed to the jon. Man, was I livid! "Aldo, what the fuck you doing?" Much to my dismay, but right on target, there stood Aldo, his hand in the pot... rather his cock, up Greg's ass! "I can explain. It do not look like it is!" Pulling out, his 7c was covered in juices. "It sure looks like `it' to me." I didn't stick around. Walking through the showers, I passed under one already turned on, being the extent of a shower, absorbed in a cross mood. "I told ya, didn't I Sean?" I didn't even answer Mark, but kept going. Opening my locker, I pulled my briefs on, even though my body was soaking wet. "Here, let me help." "Haven't you helped enough, Mark?" It was the wrong choice of words. A minute after I used them, I realized it wasn't his fault. The guy was just trying to help me out. With my shorts pulled up, over my briefs, absorbing some of the moisture, I planed my hair back with both hands. `Well, here goes,' I prepped myself. Sitting there, two benches away, Mark sat, a gloomy overcast. His head bowed, he swatted a sock around, as if hitting an insect. I heard guys in the other row of lockers, none in sight. I took the opportunity to soothe the beast within, putting my hands on both shoulders. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? It wasn't your fault that Aldo...." My thoughts of being totally pissed returned, then fled, as I thought about lashing out at Mark. "I know," he replied, solemn, low-keyed. "I guess..." I finally faced the facts, "I suppose you and me were meant to be together." It didn't come out, as an apology. His head tilted to the right, his cheek glued to my hand. If we had been at home, I'm sure Mark would have kissed me. Well, at least that's how I hoped he would feel. "Are you meaning, like how you said last night? More than boyfriends, Sean?" "I think." "Oh." "Mark, I..." On the verge of confession, Pete and Mike walked into our aisle. "What's this Garrison?" Quickly, I made like I massaged Mark's shoulder. "Mark has a sore muscle." "Oh Okay." "Whew!" they bought it. Right now, I didn't want to be out. For Aldo, if he wanted to be, then fine. I didn't want to be ridiculed behind my back. Plus, they didn't stand by him, like me, except for Greg. I always wondered why he wasn't part of the inner circle. "How come you didn't let them believe what they thought, Sean?" "Out? You crazy?" "There's like four weeks of school left. What's the big deal?" He had a point there. We both dressed and headed for our next class. Soon, the clock hit 2:45 and we left, via the same route. "You know, Mark, I think you may have a good idea." "What' that?" "Going out." "Being out?" "That's it, Letting the guys know I'm gay." "Why?" "Well, if anything, for practice." He twirled around, blocking my path down Coronado. "Practice, Sean? Practice for what?" "Practice telling people we're gay." "Oh, so now you're dragging me into this?" "Was your idea, wasn't it?" "I don't know." He wasn't the only one unsure about where the idea surfaced. "It doesn't matter. How about it?" "I guess we could. No harm, right?" "Other than the guys would snub us." Like me, at this point he didn't care. We continued our descending walk. "Sean, did you mean it when you said we should be together?" "Sure I did." "Like you love me?" "Do you love me?" "You know I do." "I love you too." "We've got to make sure." "How would we do that?" I asked him. "By not going out with other guys... not looking at them?" "Think, Mark. What would not looking at another guy prove?" "Yeah, I guess you're right. Just don't fall in love with any of them you look at, okay?" I smiled, replying, "Sure." Heading down the bent road, towards the beach, Mark notices something I've tried to avoid. "He's out there again." "Who?" I knew who, playing dumb. "The surfing bum who cheated on you?" I had thought it over a little, between then, when Mark sprung on me the incident of Aldo, fucking one of our gym classmates and now, looking upon the Italian, on the crest of a wave. "The way I look at it, we can still be friends." Swerving around in front of me, Mark says, a little pissed, "I thought you were forgetting about him, Sean? What about you and I?" "We're still.....together." "I see." He wasn't convinced. "So, I'm the guy that's going to be around when some guy dumps you, is that it?" "No." "I knew it wasn't real." "What?" "Your word. All those sweet things you said to me, meaning you and I were an established couple again?" He ran off, not towards the beach, instead, hanging a right onto Horizon Drive, towards home. For me, I thought, I better get my head screwed on straight. More than confused, I wasn't sure whom I wanted. Forgiving, I wanted Aldo, thinking up a millions lies, as to why his cock had been plowing another guy's ass. Then again, my mind raced on, thinking of how faithful Mark has been to me, most likely keeping up the same vow of abstinence when it comes to sex with other guys, pledging his heart and soul to me. I did feel for him, but at the same time, as if I wanted to be sure, I at least, for my own sanity, wanted to get Aldo's side of the story. "Hey, Aldo." More than yesterday, Aldo scooped me up in his arms, planting his lips on mine. As if repulsed, I pushed him away, faster than the `jaws of life'. "You like coconut frosty?" Accepting, I found myself once again attracted to the macho, Italian eighteen year old. Unlike yesterday, I knew he could be sweet, plus I greeted him without the shirt, the salt water giving his lightly haired chest and chest a `greased down' look, which looked very sexy. "Aldo, I have something to ask you." "You go ahead." "I saw you in the jon, with Greg. Um, fucking him?" "I fuck him. So?" "So, I thought we had a relationship going?" "If I fuck more than one guy, it not your business." I choked on my the coconut smoothie. "What do you mean `not my business'? What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Aldo?" Remaining cool, collective, opposite my immediate feelings, he explained. "We do things together and I not tell others. Same thing with Greg. I do not need to tell you. It private." "I see." I didn't really `see', but saw where all this was heading. To Aldo, I gathered, having two, maybe more boyfriends, at once and doing whatever `felt good', was entirely copacetic. "Thanks for the frosty," I told him, turned and began walking away. "Wait!" Waiting, my feet stopped trekking down the beach, towards home. "Maybe we have sex and you like it? You fuck me?" Still didn't sound solid. I wasn't about to get into a boyfriend relationship, based on only how good it felt to have my cock lodged in a guy's ass, plus the fact he could turn around and do the same to another guy. "Sorry, Aldo." "I understand." However, as I began my solo walk, I sensed he didn't. At least he didn't comprehend how I viewed what he did, as being not up to my standards. It then dawned on me. What was I really looking for? % Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.