Date: Fri, 25 Oct 2013 00:14:52 -0700 (PDT) From: Macout Mann Subject: IT STARTED IN A PARK 10 This story is completely fictional and any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. The story also contains explicit sexual acts between males, so be warned! This story is also brought to you through the generosity of the many donors to nifty.org. Without their contributions this site could not exist. Please consider a gift to nifty.org today. You'll be glad you gave. Your comments and criticisms are appreciated. Please write me at macoutmann@yahoo.com. Copyright 2013 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved. IT STARTED IN A PARK by Macout Mann Chapter 10 Therapy and Fun On Monday Malcolm Pritchard, Christian's department head, was able to put him in contact with the head of the Speech Correction and Audiology Department. Evan Moore provided a wealth of information about lisps or sigmatism, as it's formally called. He indicated that the impediment may be psychological, but more often its cause is physical, the inability to properly place the tongue. The most common form, the interdental lisp, is correctible through therapy, either through repeated exercises or through the use of devices installed in the mouth that direct the tongue to the proper position. "We are fortunate to have a post doc who is doing very exciting research in this area. She is combining traditional therapy sessions with a device of her own design. It forces the tongue into proper alignment and can be placed in the mouth by the patient between sessions. "Your young man may be an ideal subject. Let me make an appointment for you with Dr. Shelburne." The next afternoon, Gladys Shelburne met with Sammie and Christian and gave Sammie a simple paragraph to read. "The smart, sincere, sexton sounded sixteen notes on the carillon three times, signaling that the service would start soon." She had him read it three times as fast as he could. "Very good," she said. "There are several different s sounds there, and how you said each of them let me know that your lisp is interdental. And I think you would be an excellent subject for our study. "The next question is, `Do you really want to get rid of your lisp?" "Oh yeth," Sammie replied. "Moth thirtain-ly." Anything to gain the approval of his Jim. After fifteen minutes more of questions, it was decided that Sammie could be accepted. Ms. Shelburne explained to Christian that previous correctional devices, like braces, were permanently installed. Because her device could be removed by the patient at will, only highly motivated subjects were being allowed to participate. But she felt that her method would be proved superior, because twice weekly traditional therapy could be conducted without the device, and as the patient progressed he would have the flexibility to practice with or without the tool installed. A properly motivated subject should speak without a problem in six months at most. Sammie would be measured for the device at once and then have his first therapy session today. His appliance would be ready Thursday afternoon. Christian thanked Dr. Shelburne and took his leave, telling Sammie that he and his colleagues would also like to meet with him Thursday at five. Vernon was cooking lasagna that night and Christian immediately headed over to his place. "So what's been happening?" Vernon asked. "Not much," Christian answered. "I got Sammie started with the speech correctionist. He seems hot to get rid of his lisp." "Good," Vernon replied. "He could become a neat guy." "Oh? You want to plow him already. I guess you could. You don't have the mentor relationship with him that I do. Hell, you aint even technically on the faculty." "Right now I'm thinking of us doing the plowing," Vernon said. "A bird in the hand..." Christian laughed. "You have no morals at all, do you?" "Morals? What are they?" Vernon fondled his buddy's package. "I just do what's natural. Nothing wrong with that." "So you'll probably be fucking Sammie within a week, letting nature take its course," Christian retorted. "Tell him it's part of his workout." "After dinner, we need to get with our workout. First eat and then eat." Vernon was an excellent cook, and his lasagna was to die for. He made a green salad with Italian dressing to go with it and served both dishes with garlic bread. "I ate so much I don't have enough energy for sex," Christian grinned. "How the fuck do you think you pay for your supper?" Vernon responded. He flopped on the couch next to Christian and started unbuttoning his shirt. "I just love your hot bod," he whispered. Vernon nibbled his way down Christian's chest and abs and used his teeth to unloosen his partner's belt. "Too bad I can't just unzip your fly with my lips," he giggled. He reached for Christian's zipper pull and freed his dick from its trousered prison. "Such a neat sausage," he continued. "Too bad you already ate," Christian teased. "Not dessert," Vernon countered. And he took the waiting organ into his mouth, burying his nose in his friend's musky pubes. Christian responded by tousling Vernon's hair and running his fingers under the back of his shirt, relishing the feel of Vernon's hard body. "Ooh. I just love your hot bod too," Christian moaned. "I can't wait to taste it." The two men had become the closest of friends. But their sexual encounters were purely physical. Vernon was a total cock hound. Witness his fondness for the spit-roast. His life was dominated by a search for coherence in String Theory on the one hand and a search for dicks to play with on the other. For Christian sex had always been without emotion. From the time he first met other guys anonymously in parks. He had never even thought about "a relationship." Even as a kid with Merritt, there was music, then there was sex. Two different pursuits. His relationship with Jim had begun with a fuck, but he now had become a drinking buddy too. But just that. He got together with Captain Rick first, but their relationship also became like that of a nephew and an uncle. With each sexual contact, however, his aim was always to get as much pleasure as he could, but also he wanted his partners to be just as fulfilled as he was. So when it came to sex, his life at Sparta had become just about perfect. Friends for fucking, and time for rest and work, as well as the occasional trips to Cranston Park for new encounters. When Christian dumped his precious fluid down the throat of his friend, he was ecstatic. Cumming was what a dick was made for. Every nerve in his body harmonized. And he knew that to Vernon cum was nectar. But now it was time for him to reciprocate. To Christian Vernon had a perfect body. Beautiful. Compact. Hard. Hell, his abs were as hard as a dick. He wasn't muscle bound, but well defined everywhere. Christian undressed him looking forward to tasting every inch of his five foot ten frame. He began by blowing into his ears and tonguing them. Then gently biting his neck and shoulders. Vernon lay back, totally relaxed, savoring every touch. He savored Christian's tongue lapping his pits. Christian ran his palm over the gentle curves of Vernon's pecs and nibbled on his now-erect nipples. Vernon didn't shave his body, but his chest hair was scant and was softly matted down to his gut. Next Christian tongued his partner's navel and thoroughly licked his six pack before slipping his tongue around the head of his rigid upturned dong. "Fuck," whimpered Vernon, "I'm already about to cum." "Be my guest," answered Christian as he swallowed Vernon whole. Christian's lips very gently caressed him and Vernon held out as long as he could, but it was only two minutes or so before he did spurt copious ribbons of semen down Christian's throat. Christian had never been as fond of drinking cum as a lot of his partners, but he always had figured that turn-about was fair play. Besides, his own dick was hard again and he was ready for the main event. "Ready to take me up your tight ass?" Vernon rolled onto his stomach and Christian once again began with his ears, nibbling his neck, and licking the sweat off his spine, before spreading his cheeks and filling his ass crack with silava. Vernon turned over once more. Christian liked to look into the eyes of the guy he was screwing, and Vernon wanted to slobber on Christian's dick so both their spits would lube Vernon's ass. That done, Vernon raised his legs, planted them on Christian's shoulders, and watched in anticipation of Christian's stuffing his rod in his very own anus. "Ooooh," Vernon cried, "that feels so good. Fuck me, man." "Yeah," Christian replied. "Nothing feels better to a dick than an ass, does it?" He rammed his prong home and at the same time kissed each of Vernon's pecs." He raised up to see a contented smile on Vernon's face. "You really love to have a dick up ya, don't ya buddy?" "Ooooh yes. Pound me, man," Vernon cried. "In time, buddy. But right now my shaft just wants to feel your throbbing chute." Vernon's dick was already rigid again, and Christian reached for it. He jacked it until his fingers were nicely moistened with Vernon's precum and he then let his buddy lick them clean. "Tasty, aint they?" Christian said. "You bet your ass," Vernon panted. Christian began to play his organ, slowly raising his hips to retract his treasure `til just its knob remained inside Vernon's sphincter, then letting it slide down to once more fully fill his hole. Up and down. Back and forth. "Oh fuck yes!" Vernon cried. "Fuck my ass." As Christian became more excited, his movements became faster and harder. He gave Vernon the pounding he had asked for, and as Vernon's prostate reacted to its stimulation, he shot a load onto Christian's chest which dribbled back onto his own. Without missing a stroke, Christian lapped up some of the cum and shared it by licking it onto Vernon's lips. "Tasty pudding, aint it?" Christian sang. "Oh shit yes. Give me more." "You can have whatever's left on my dick after I cum, baby. And that aint goanna be long." Christian's strokes became even more vigorous. "Take it all!" he cried. And he dropped strand after strand of his man sauce into his friends flexing ass. Both men were sated.