Date: Wed, 15 Nov 2006 06:05:40 -0800 (PST) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: STRIPEs 12 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 12 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % Gaging by the sun, sinking on the horizon, I had been sitting on this larger-than-life boulder, for hours. What seemed like minutes, as I pondered, thinking of what was most important to me. The afternoon wallowed away. "Oh! You scared the hell outta me, Mark!" "Sorry." The guy whom I had joyous moments, sad times, experienced laughter, shed tears, sat next to me. "Want a sip?" I offered him the last of the coconut frosty, whipped up over two hours ago. "Um, no thanks. Doesn't look too appetizing, Sean." "Sorry." A minute passed before we each said something to each other, simultaneously. "You go." "No. You go first." "Well," Mark replied, "I went back to the house and started on my homework, but couldn't concentrate." "What was bothering you?" As if I didn't know. He didn't point it out to me, but rather saying, "Sean, I think I'm seeing... well, I'm no expert at relationships, but... well, what we have here is only friends." "Friends eh?" I replied. Maybe I saw this as more, but played it by ear. "Yep. Like all these years, as we were growing up, I think I kind of mistook our bedtime fun as something more serious. I suppose things like this happen and a person gets to thinking because two guys feel good together... its love, when it's not?" Recalling the `years', as he mentioned, I thought over the first time we confessed to each other how only guys turned us on. I thought of the first time Mark sunk to his knees, fished my cock out of my briefs and began sucking me. I thought about all the times he worked my teen cock up, getting the juices flowing. "I'm no better than what you and Aldo had." "You've had sex with another guy?" "No. Well, not other than when Rob Lassiter made me suck his cock, but he never fucked me. Only guy who's ever done that, is," he paused, "you." "I suppose that makes it special." He agreed. Looking up at the beautiful orange and pink sunset, I thought how fortunate I am, to have a friend like Mark. "It `did'," he annunciated the former tense. Getting up from the boulder, he exited the way he came, from behind. Smaller boulders and overgrown stones, descended from some glacier, had made the perfect stairsteps up to the summit, where I sat. With my knees bent, my head sagged to my kneecaps, resting there. As soon as Mark disappeared from beside me, I felt more than a lost presence. Like a vacuum, he sucked out all the energy from my being. A prescence lost, also left me with feelings of warmth, companionship..... love? What did I know, at seventeen? Without much thinking, I sensed, if I didn't recoup what I just lost, it may be too late. Shuffling my feet under me, standing, I hustled down the back of the boulder, jumping down the natural steps, hightailing it down the pebbly path, to the sandy reaches. I saw this small dot between myself and the row of homes. Running at full speed, I aimed for my target, to reconcile, make what's lost, found. "Mark! Mark! Wait up!" Calling out, a sense of urgency, excitement, filled me up. Doing his famous, `walking backwards', the last of the daylight reflected off his face, questioning me. Without a verbal reply, I grabbed him. This time, I didn't bother gazing around, checking out whom might catch us. I kissed him; kissed him hard. Drawing his lips and body into mine, I didn't feel the ordinary, boyfriend-to-boyfriend emotion. Instead, reaching the prime of our teenhood, I sensed a more man-to-man reaction. "Wow!" Mark replied, as we broke off. "I... I really love you Mark." "I know that." "No. Not only love, but... `love' love." "Are you saying `love', like `wanna-to-be-together-forever' love?" Again, I gave him the silent response. Two serious seventeen year old high school guys, on the beach, embraced, sealing the deal of a lifetime. % Both of us wanted to make this work, keep our relationship together, no matter how each of us had to bend. Neither of us had decided on our lifelong vocation. Graduation in view, suddenly it slapped us in the face. Soon we would be out there in the world, part of the frat society, with no direction. "I could get you boys summer jobs at the brewery, as soon as you turn eighteen." "Thanks dad, but it would mean we would be unemployed for three weeks." I added, "Time is money." Mr. Garrison smiled, thinking how much his son wanted to help out with his college expenses. As for me, I didn't have to worry, unless my expenses exceeded a four year program. My father's endowment, cut off until I hit eighteen, would become available, but Mr. Garrison admitted it would only cover so much time. Plus, since the agreed amount had been instated, the cost of attending college had risen. Masters courses would cost me, but hopefully I would secure enough work to save up. As for Mark, even though his parents saved, he would still have to contribute in order to carry on his coursework. It became an even more so significance, to choose his vocation wisely. Another idea, we both thought about, is joining the Marines. However, Mark's dad reasoned we would go through all that training, they would find out we're gay and then kick us out! "I saw our `friend', Jake Greeley today." "Where?" I questioned Mark. "Remember our graduation advisor called us and I had to go get measured again for my cap and gown?" "Right. I can't believe the doofuses lost half the senior class' measurements. So?" "Jake was there too. Though, first time for him. I didn't feel sorry for him, when he lied through his teeth about not knowing he had to sign up for a cap and gown two weeks ago." We both laughed at his ignorance. "Were his thugs with him?" "Nope. He was by himself." "He say anything to you?" "Yep." "Oh?" "But get this...." I wonder if Mark saw my hopes, in mentioning something - anything about the day we had the run in, plus my knowledge of Coach Hanson `handling it', referring to what would follow. "He wondered if you had ratted on him." "To who?" "Rob Lassiter. And boy was he pissed." "Who? Jake?" "No. I mean yes. I mean Jake, yes and Rob too." I shook my head, with confusion. "Wait. Back up. What exactly did Jake say to you?" "Well," Mark took a deep breath, "he mentioned you being gay?" "Okay. So he knows I'm gay. What else?" "This part I don't understand. Apparently Jake got on Coach Hanson's bad side...." I played dumb, at the mention of his name. "So?" "So.... want to hear something?" "Um, that's why I'm listening, dah?" "No, not about meeting Jake at graduation." "What, then?" I was all ears, along with partially confused. "Coach Hansen and Rob Lassiter had `a thing' going!" "Nooooooooooo!" I reacted, terrible at acting skills. Standing there, hands on hips, Mark looked at me. "You knew and didn't tell me, Sean?" Smiling, the same stance, my hands planted on my torso, I admitted I had. "You could've told me. I wouldn't have told anyone." "I know. It slipped my mind, I suppose." He bought it. "So, what else happened?" "Oh, so it seems Rob owed Coach Hanson a favor. So, he told Rob all about your encounter with Jake Greeley and told him to `handle it'." "Wow! This is like the Mafia!" "But Rob Lassiter was pissed at Coach Hanson, because he was ready to head off to college." "It's June. What would he being doing all summer?" "Working. His `rents helped him set up his place and settle in, before September." "Something we should be doing." "I know. Anyway, that's all I wanted to say, but oh, Rob must've straightened out Jake, because he was nice to me." "Hmmm." "What?" "A gay top meets a straight top and turns him into....." Our imaginations let loose and we came up with lots of different combinations, mostly, knowing the effect Rob Lassiter could have on a guy, with Jake on his knees. "Yeah, betcha he had Jake sucking him off!" "Wouldn't `that' be a picture?" Both laughing, we walked down Horizon Drive, after I had met Mark at the intersection with Coronado. Suddenly, a van whooses by, this time leaving us plenty of walking space. Up the road, it stops and rolls backwards. "Shit! It's Jake Greeley's van!" "Wait Mark. There's no reason to get upset. Remember, he crossed paths with Rob Lassiter." "I guess you're right." But like my teenaged lover, we both seemed a little tense. "Hey, dudes." Standing there, we didn't say anything. His hair cropped so short, Jake looked nearly bald, almost like one of those skinheads. He walked around the back, then confronted us. "What's up?" I spoke for both of us, a little edgy. "Um, say, um..." Silence prevailed. I don't know where it came from, in an audacious manner, I ask him, "If you've got something to say, say it, Jake." I tensed my gut muscles, waiting for the punch. The hand came forward alright. I flinched. "I wanted you to know..." We both could tell Jake had a tough time getting it out. "....I'm really sorry.... um for what my guys did to you in the hallway, Sean." I still didn't pick up on his apology. "Here. Take my hand. Shake it." Picking up my right hand, Jake combined it with his own. Then, I thought us both in deep shit, as Mark barks out, "You should be getting down on your knees sucking him off!" Still hands clutched, we both turn our attention to him. With no shame involved, hands on his torso, he stands his ground. Jake gulped. "Um... yeah... um, okay, if that's what you want." Now he stared intensely at me, apparently looking for my go ahead. News to us both, I'm sure to Mark, as well as to my own ears, I had trouble grasping his intentions. "Want to say that again, Jake?" "Um, yeah.... well.. I gotta do what... I mean I gotta..." It's apparent what Jake had alluded to, but didn't mention Rob Lassiter's name. Mark made it easy for him. "Well, you going to suck Sean off or what?" "I suppose." Next, he broke off my handshake, sliding open the side door of his van. "I can do it in here." With his back to Jake, Mark mouths to me, `is he serious?' I shrugged my shoulders. As I climbed into the van, stepping on a blanket, Mark followed. Jake at first objected to Mark hopping into the van.. "Him too." I didn't mean for him to suck off Mark, but it's what Jake thought. After I dropped my pants, had him make love to my teen cock, pulling out, shooting my load on his face, he turned to Mark. If he thought this the way I meant it to go, whom I to interfere! Before leaving the van, Jake gave us a message. "By the way, Rob gave me a message for you?" "For me?" Mark asked. "No. Him," Jake pointed his thumb to me. "And so?" "Call him." % That night, as we lay in bed, we waited for silence, telling us the `rents had headed off for bed. With ease, we slipped downstairs. Taking the remote phone out of it's holster, we proceeded to the back porch. "Got the number?" "Yup. 7-4-1... Oops wait...start again." "Okay....go.." "Rather, 7-1-4-8-4-6-0-6-9-0." "It's ringing." Rob, picking up after four rings, recognized my voice. Immediately he asked me, `so?' I replied with, "Yeah," a bit with a questioning tone. `And?' I filled Rob in, Jake pulling over to the side, apologizing, the `hand shake', then Mark mentioning about his suggestion for Jake to give me a blow job. Muffled, evil laughter followed, on the other end, before replying. To Mark, I said, "Rob says you've got guts!" Mark smiled at me. I then mentioned Jake offering up the back of his van, not only to give me a BJ, but also my `buddy'. Cupping my hand over the phone, I told Mark, "Rob commented he thinks you're turning top!" After the information I gave him, Rob fills me in on how he `broke' Jake, which took him all of several hours, but only a coupla minutes to relay to me. Right away, after ending my conversation with Rob, Mark asks, "So what did he have to say about me?" "Not much else, other than over spring break, he hopes the three of us can get together." "Really?" Mark asked, all excited. "Um, if you're going to do any of that pain stuff, you can count me out." Shrugging his shoulder, he said to me, "If you're not going to be involved, then... I'll just have to give it up!" Even though I didn't care much for the intensity of the play, I heralded his guts for giving up something he liked, for me. "You mean it?" He nodded, `yes'. "You're doing this for me, aren't you?" He sort of blushed. In response, I gathered him up in my arms, for a sentimental hug. I relented to a possible compromise. "We'll see what happens when spring break comes." "Really?" His eyes became aglow with a new spark of excitement. "Maybe. Let's see how we get through our first semester, okay?" "Yep." Placing the phone back in the holster, I made it known I was `hurting' for some oral and anal action! % I never rekindled my efforts of getting back with Aldo. Not blaming him, even though I knew he was seeing other guys, having more than casual romantic interludes with them, I blamed our little breakup on Mark and I getting it on. He communicated he thought we had a friendship. Without explaining numerous years of our history, I just left it at, `getting serious'. Graduation came and went. We celebrated with a few classmates, but didn't go overboard on the frivolties of grad trips and parties, knowing we would need money for college. I found myself a job, teaching surfing to kids, at a summer surf school. Luckily, Mark waitered at a beach side restaurant. Sometimes I had free time, while Mark worked, but after being in the hot sun all day, the coolness of an evening in, became highly welcomed. During those summer months, it's as if life sped up, regarding the physiological nature of our bodies. Mark swore my fucking became more intense, swearing my cock got bigger. I didn't notice a difference and it's not like I measure the `before' and `after'. For himself, the hair on his pubes became more thicker, his treasure trail more pronounced, extending above his navel, thrilled as much as myself, extending all the way up to his midchest. One time Mark mentioned how disappointed I would be if he didn't grow much hair on the front of his body. Well, summer's passing brought on growth like a guy wouldn't believe. His chest filled out nicely, a light covering of dark hair. Not enough to say I could run my hands through, but with enough sensitivity to the touch of a tongue. We never tired of his position as bottom and me working over his chute. "How much did you put away?" I asked him, upon depositing his last paycheck. "About sixty-seven hundred. And you?" "Um, pittance compared to you! I suppose all those tips paid off." "That's what comes, with working in a swanky restaurant." "I have a little story to tell you," he said, smiling. "Oh?" "Remember the cook I told you about, Jean-Pierre?" "Right. The old, French guy." "Forty-two isn't really old, Sean." I apologized for my ignorance! "So what of him?" "This past week he showed me how to make some French dishes." "Like French fries?" Mark smiled at me. "No. More complicated dishes. Some you would find on the menu of a fancy French restaurant. He says I have an aptitude for cooking." "Really?" "Yup. And so I asked him how long it took to get a degree." "Are you saying you're ready for a career in cooking?" "I think. But you know what Jean-Pierre says?" "What?" "Going to cooking school is valuable, but you learn a lot of cooking know-how from other chefs." I had a feeling there was a point to get at here and Mark was beating around the bush. "Uh-huh, so?" "Jean-Pierre, obviously taking a liking to me..." "Enough to try to get you into bed?" "No, Sean. Not every man has sex on their mind!" Saying sorry, I admitted there a percentage of the male population, small, doesn't think about sex all the time. I set the record straight, telling him I fall into this category. "He gave me a list of chefs he's known and restaurants I could use him as a reference, to become an apprentice." "What about college? I thought we had it all settled?" His chin nearly touched his chest, with a pouty look. "We had it all set, going to the same college." Not a word did he say. Only this sorry look on his face. "You're mad at me." "I'm not mad at you, Mark." "Disappointed?" "I suppose it a better explanation." Then he cut to the chase. "I won't fall in love with another guy, if you won't!" "Of course we won't," I replied, more or less as pledging the fullest extent of my love. % Graduation came and went, without a hitch. Mark's mom assembled a catered affair, inviting family, friends, their's and our's, plus both of us guys almost fainted when my dad showed up, alone. "Hi son." At the time, Mark and I stood aloof, by ourselves. I suppose my dad waited until the optimum moment, us guys as dueting, a lull in the flux of conversation between us. "Dad," I greeted him, in one syllable. "I talked with Mark's dad," my dad nodded across the way. "Listen, by far I don't think you are going to get by on the trust I left you, so here...." He handed me a business envelope, fattened. "Y'know dad, instead of this," I clutched it in my hand, "I'd much rather have had your attention these last couple of years." "I'm sorry about that. It's been hard, with Susan being a born again Christian. She doesn't see things as I do." "It's not like you didn't have a choice?" "I know how it looks Sean, but at the time I longed for companionship and..." Dad shrugged his shoulders. "I can't rightly say I understand your motives. Same thing as me, I felt this terrible need for somebody to...." About to dive into my heartfelt longings, it then occured to me, as Mark stood there, where my thoughts were headed, the choice of words, meaning so much then and so much now. Standing there, Mark listened, looking back and forth as if watching a tennis match. My arm rose from his back, railing the top of his shoulders. "Like you, I've made my choice, Dad." "Well, son, I can't say I'm unhappy about your decision. As with the Richman family, I became confident I did the right thing..." "Disowning your son?" "Like I say, Sean. With Susan, I figured if you came to live with us, it would've been a life in hell for you." I had to give dad the benefit of the doubt. He didn't apparently share views with `his wife', regarding my gay male sexuality. "And yourself?" Nodding his head `yes', dad revealed, "Yes. Me too." Reviewing bulging envelope in my hand, I decided I didn't want to accept his `charity'. Taking it, pulling on the front of dad's belt, I stuffed it in the front of his pants. "No thanks. C'mon Mark." My arm already there, I came around the front of Mark, making his body pirouette, turning to walk away, in the same direction. "Well, I thought you handled that alright!" "I don't know. It kind of hurts." Looking over his shoulder, Mark sees my dad turned, his back towards us, walking towards the street side of the house. "That's the way it looks to me. Though it didn't pan out the way I figured it would go, Sean." "Oh? And how's that, Sherlock?" "Actually, I saw this going one of two ways. Either he was going to call you back, fall all over you, apologizing, insisting you take the money, or make the `payoff'." "Payoff?" "Sure. It's like all these years. He's used money in place of affection. What makes today any different?" Looking out over the bay, the same one which claimed my mom's life, I folded my arms, looking at the pristine view. Without warming, Mark's hands began on my torso, then encircled, settling right under mine. His front touched my back, as we two became one. % Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.