Date: Sun, 27 Aug 2006 19:05:09 -0700 (PDT) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: Stripes 02 The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons in towns, cities, or governmental ares, in which the story is staged. If sexual scenes, involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you ought not read this story, by law. Check with your local laws, regarding such. Sexual safety matters. This is fiction. In the real world, use protection, during sexual encounters. "Stripes" 02 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % I watched, as Mark unlatched the stall door. Slowly opening it, as if not knowing what lurked on the outside, we both stare. Suddenly it swung open. There, seventeen year old Rob Lassiter stood. He looked down, first straight at Mark's pubes, quickly switching his gaze to mine. Abruptly, Mark comments, "What's the matter, Rob? You act as if it's the first time you've seen our cocks!" "From up there," he nodded to where he hung over the men's room partition, standing on the toilet seat, "it's a lot different than down here. Hee hee... what's the matter? Run outta steam, Marky?" At first Mark blushed, then grew bold once more, shooting back at Rob, "I don't see your's!" With an ounce of moxie and lots more curiosity, I badgered Rob, "Yeah, let's see what you've got!" It's the first time I've acted in that way, telling another guy to more or less show me his cock, demanding it. Both of us thought we had Rob under our jurisdiction. However, it seemed like he had an agenda before he even entered the stall. "You want to see what I'm packin', is that it?" "It's only fair," Mark told him. I added, "You've seen our cocks." "And balls?" Rob replied. A grin streaked across Rob's face, as he stuck his fingers under Mark's balls and sagging cock and fondled his teen orbs. "Heaaaaaaay... get your hands offa..." Complaining, Mark slapped Rob's hand, as if taking something that didn't belong to him. In essence, that was true. "Now.. now... no need to get honery. Just having some fun." "Fun?" Mark asked. "Yeah. I figured when I didn't see you two come out of the men's room.. maybe you two were playing around with each other." "Each other?" I questioned. That's something that hadn't crossed our minds. It's only been a couple of months since Mark and I made it known to each other that we are gay. Standing there, with a look on his face, Rob finally let on, "Don't tell me neither of you has jerked the other off?" His eyebrows pointing up, Mark cued Rob in, "Jerk each other off? You mean touch each other... down here?" We both tried telling Rob to shut up, after he let out this boisterous laugh. "Tell ya what," Rob started bargaining, "you two want to see what I've got inside my gym shorts, right?" I did. "Yeah," Mark replied, for both of us, as far as I was concerned. "If I show you, you've got to promise me something." We waited. "Ya gotta promise that if I haul out of rod, you both have to hold it." "We ain't no perverts," Mark told him off. "Perverts?" Rob questioned, which drew the conclusion of insinuation, at the same time. "What do you think two guys, in a men's room stall, spells?" He had us there. "But you want us to touch your... um cock?" "And balls," Rob was quick to point out. "I don't know," Mark scratched his head. Then he put it on me, "What do you think, Sean?" I looked at Mark, then Rob, then back to Mark. I looked Rob over again. He had a tank top on. I detected that under his arms he could be sporting some thick tufts of body hair. I wondered if it was as thick as Mr. Martin's armpits. I wondered if Rob had any hair on his body, especially around his cock and balls. Sure, I had an interest in finding out how big Rob's cock and balls measured up to. He's seventeen, almost eighteen, going into twelfth grade. That's almost an adult. He `had' to have some big numbers. "Alright," I answered. As if Mark doubted what he heard, he said to me, "Yeah?" "Sure," I replied, as if it was no big deal. Then, as if `he' made the deciding cast of lots, Mark tells Rob, "We'll do it." "First things first," He said. As if I wished for something and it came true, Rob takes hold of the back of his tank top, pulling it forwards. It messes up his bushy hairstyle, as he removes it in front of himself, palming his head of hair back. "Whew! That's better. It was getting hot in here." 'Man-oh-man-oh-man', it sure was! My eyes started studying Rob's bod right away. He had this patch of hair, dead center, between his pecs. Dark in color, to match his head of hair. Then, as soon as it left his pecs, it formed a tight little stripe down the middle of his abs. My eyes traveled the path down to his navel. After I asked, I felt like an idiot, when I said, "Does that go inside?" Both Mark and Rob looked down at Rob's stomach. "What goes inside where?" Rob asked. Mark just looked back and forth, at Rob pulling at his taut stomach, looking at his navel, then focused on me. "What are you talking about Sean?" "Never mind." However, it seemed like Rob got the whole picture. "Oh, I get it. You're talking about my trail." Then Mark spilled the beans, "Oh yeah. Sean's into guys with lotsa hair." I coulda killed Mark right then and there, only he spelled out the truth, plus I was getting all horny over Rob's stripe down his stomach and the way it did seem to disappear inside his navel. But that wasn't all. This little, thin strip of dark hair seemed to come out the bottom of his deep innie, as well. "Got a little fetish, do we?" Rob asked me. "I don't know." Truly, I didn't understand what Rob meant by the word `fetish'. "What's that anyway?" Mark put it to him. The conversation went on, between Mark and Rob, me as the bystander. "Fetish. Part of your body that's not sexual, but gives you a sexual response." "Huh?" Mark questioned, his hands moving to his torso. "Yeah, um," Rob scratched his teen stubble, "Sean here has a fetish for me. My navel." I finally set him straight, "I'm `not' into your navel, Rob!" "Yeah, he's not into your navel," Mark agreed. "Sean likes your hair." "Is that so?" His curiosity was meant to provoke. It did the trick, as Mark began to spew out information. "Sure. That's how Sean got his hardon, in the first place." I scolded, "Mark!" "Is that so?" Rob furthered his quest for kinky knowledge about me. "Yeah, um..." Mark stuttered, looking at me. "Tell me, or you don't get to see my cock." By this time, we both had a longing to see what lurked under Rob's shorts. By now, all this talk had both Rob and Mark hard. In plain view, Mark's teen cock stood out straight, all five inches or so of it. Mine, had been `well developed', as Mark put it one day, comparing mine to his, noting it to be an inch longer, at least. "Um, Sean?" Oh course I wanted to see Rob's cock. Especially since it was poking at his gym shorts like a pup tent. Now whether we did or not, depended on my go ahead for Mark to tell Rob everything he knew, personal or otherwise. Even though I thought it would embarrass me, I cursed, "What the hell." I thought I'd cringe, but instead, it made my cock throb, to think that I was going to suffer being humiliated. "Well," Mark started off high-pitched, then came down an octave, "y'see, we stood there watching Mr. Martin playing volleyball and..." "Martin, you say?" Rob said. Before Mark could finish, Rob drew his own conclusion. "You've got the hots for Martin's hairy bod, do you?" He directed it, not to Mark, the fink, but casting his face to the side, directly to me, staring into my eyes. "Um," I answered. Then we both got surprised, when Rob said, "He doesn't have anything over me." We wondered what Rob meant by that, but quickly the thoughts evaporated, when he tucked his thumbs into his gym shorts and pressed down. At first, the elastic waistline got stuck on his stick, then releasing it, his hard shaft sprung up, then down, a little shimmy left. "Oh fuck!" Mark gasped. Rob didn't have to press the condition. Straight forward, Mark reached out and touched his barrel, like petting a cat. To Mark's comment, Rob reported, "That can be arranged," for both of us, the size of his trigger, let the statement go right over our heads. "Wow! That's big," Mark kept it up. I just looked, watching Mark run two fingers from underneath the mushroomed head, to where a small amount of hair grew, at the base. "Betcha never tasted a hot cock like this, eh?" "Taste?" Mark jumped, removing his hand altogether. Even I questioned, "Taste?" Looking at Mark, he looked back. "Are you guys stupid or what?" We shrugged our shoulders and gave each other the look. What was Rob talking about? As if reading my mind, Mark asks, "What the hell are you talking about Rob?" Things seemed to be falling into place, for Rob. As we would find out, he just didn't happen to enter the men's room at the park, to relieve himself. "What I'm talking about is... how about you get on your knees," he pressed on the top of Mark's head, "and wrap those lips around my cock?" Mark fought him, as I backed away, between the toilet and cement wall. "No way! Let me outta here." Suddenly, we heard the jon door slam open, almost knocing Mark over. Rob lifted his hand, but not before Mark could get one last yelp out. "Everything alright in here?" I knew that voice, Mark knew it and surely Rob did. One thing Rob neglected to do, was relatch the stall door. I didn't believe Rob didn't go for his gym shorts, wanting to hike them up his hips, over his erection, scooping up his big balls, along the way. Instead, he just stood there, as Mr. Martin pushed the door open. % 2B continued Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author. The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....