Date: Sat, 4 Nov 2006 13:19:23 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: ROAD TRIP  Applegate

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, nor governmental areas,
which the story is stages. If a sexual scene involving
male-to-male relationships offences 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. This is fiction. Use protection, in real
life.

ROAD TRIP  Applegate
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"And this, gentlemen, is where I work!"

Anthony leads the entourage, composed of his
stringbean lover, Roberto, Nicholas, Randy, Ethan, and
Sep, through one of the four glass doors, entering the
gymnasium of Applegate University. Along for the ride,
plus to check out the university grounds, Mario
Magistretti and Dingxang Choi tagged along. After high
school graduation, the two eighteen year olds showed
an interest in attending college, but hadn't an
inkling to which area of study to apply themselves.

With the funeral for Mario's father over and done
with, Anthony figured it a good idea for Mario to get
on with his life, helping to take the stepping-stones,
in some qualitative direction. As for Dingxang, his
mother, co-owner of Choi's, the family owned cleaners,
called one day, appealing for Anthony's help in
setting their son on some sort of track. Over the
years they've dived into their business, admitting
neglect. Anthony couldn't believe his ears, commenting
to Mrs. Choi the manner in which Dingxang conducted
himself, always mannerly. Admitting to Anthony he's
been well brought up in the traditional manner, she
didn't hesitate to suggest his recent mix with the
wrong crowd. Before things evolved, Mrs. Choi phoned
the only person who had an influence over Dingxang,
both sharing the same identity connection, being gay.

"Anthony, why is this place such a mess?"

Nicholas picks up a stack of papers and pans through
it.

"Anthony, I'm appalled by the condition of this place.
I set you straight at home. Now it looks like I need
to `hang around here'?"

It wasn't only the stack of papers concerning
Nicholas. Along with the others, the figure at the
door presented some unexpected eye candy.

"Hi Coach Toricelli."

"Um, is there a reason why you're dripping water all
over my floor, Tom?"

"Oops! Sorry about that Coach Toricelli."

"We don't mind," Nicholas stated.

Eyeing the nineteen year old, up and down, dressed in
his low rise speedo, gave creedance for the lot of
them to offer instant forgiveness, on Anthony's
behalf!

"Um, Nicky?"

"Ughhh!"

Replying with a sigh of pain, Randy nudging his elbow
hard, into Nicholas' ribs. The vocal retro effect made
it sound like it broke a bone.

"Hmm... some tough guy you turned out to be!"

Whatever, it gave Nicholas the message, from Randy, he
shouldn't be staring at Tom, yet it was alright for
Randy to do it?

"So what can I do you for?"

"What's that Anthony?"

"I meant," he answered Roberto, asking Tom,  "so,
what's the reason you're dripping all over the
carpet?"

"What I wanted to ask, is for the master key to the
lockers?"

"You lock yourself out again, Carrington?"

Physically moving Nicholas and Randy, parting their
bodies, Anthony fished around for the ring of keys.
His ass jutted out, right in front of Nicholas. He
made the others laugh out loud, his hand above
Anthony's stretched pants, readying to spank him.

"I know I put them in here someplace."

However, the ring of keys, hanging over a pushpin on
the bulletin board, saved Anthony from getting
whacked.

"This look familiar?"

Stealing them away in one swoop, Anthony proceeded to
hand them to Tom.

"Do we get to see the pool next?" Ethan asks.

"Why not!"

>From the time they exited Anthony's office, to the
door of the huge room, housing the olympic-sized pool,
Nicholas wouldn't shut up about Anthony's untidyness.

"Y'know Nicholas, I think you should go into the
organization business!"

"I'm only trying to help, Anthony. If you don't want
my help, then just say it."

It's the first time, in their multi-yeared
relationship, the two have had any type of argumentive
conversation. Fortunately for the two, to keep their
disclosure of words private, the others had gone on to
observe Applegate's diving team.

"You're right Nicholas," Anthony stated, a hand
rubbing up and down his friend's back.

"No. I'm wrong. I shouldn't be butting into your
business all the time."

"Why? If you stopped doing it ten years ago, my house
would look like my office!"

Smiling at each other became enough apologies, to
warrant a kiss and makeup session.

"Gringos," Roberto interrupted, "we want to go
swimming. The team invited us!"

"Ohhhh no, no, noooooo..." Anthony ran to the side of
the pool.

As at home, without shame, Sep and Ethan began
stripping down, right there in front of the swim team,
right down to their briefs, thumbs ready to elevate
downwards their last shred of clothing. Mario and
Dingxang, not knowing any different, followed along.

"But we don't have any swimsuits," Ethan complained.

Sep added, "So we did what comes naturally?"

"Sure," Sean Berg, dual gymnast in wrestling and
swimming, says, "just like the parties at your place,
we'll strip so as not to make your friends feel
embarrassed?"

"Hold it, hold it, hold it!"

As Sean pulls his speedos down, Anthony grabs hold of
the waist band, yanking them back up, over his basket,
hiding his dark, hairy pubes.

"Oh shit, coach! You almost clipped my dick!" Berg
complains.

"Oh?"

"Owwwwwwwwch! Oh shit!"

Laughter breaks out uncontrollably, as Sean hops
around after Anthony has snapped his speedo against
his torso.

"Your lucky I didn't aim lower," Anthony replies,
straight faced. "Now, there's a difference in being at
my place and a respectable university."

"So, what do we do about swimsuits?" Ethan inquires,
too pulling his briefs up, not wanting his cock
injured.

"Whatever you want as long as your cock and balls
aren't swinging to the breeze!"

As the others go at it, Dingxang comes over to
Anthony.

"My mom suggested I take in the atmosphere of
Applegate and see if anything interests me. I think I
found something that interests me."

"I wonder why?" Anthony says under his breath, as
Dingxang heads over to the pool.

With his crotch bouncing around in his
tightey-whities, the Asian jumps into the water,
making a widespread cannonball splash.

"Aren't you going in, Anthony?"

Looking over to the pool, all the troops are engaged
in pool splashing, except his man, standing next to
him, shirtless.

"Nah. You go have your fun with the guys."

"What are you going to do?"

"Go clean up the heap of papers on my desk."

"I will help you."

"I was hoping you would say that."

Cat calls came from the pool, notifying Anthony and
Roberto the others paid attention to their sweet kiss.
They all tried splashing the two, but the water didn't
even touch their toes.

"So, what do you think about this place, Mario?"

"It's cool," he replied to Nicholas.

While Randy hung by Nicholas' side, the two chatted.

"Now is the time to think about getting involved in
your education."

"Maybe."

"Y'know, your father doing himself in, wasn't your
fault?"

Seeing a sense of grief, Mario's eyebrows squashing
downwards, Nicholas could see the flood coming.
Letting Randy's hand slide off his back, he walks
through the waist-deep waters and embraces the teen.

"Same thing Gregor tells me."

>From the moment Gregor had to relay to Mario his
father's suicide, the twenty-eight year old police
officer has kept tabs on him.

"Gregor?" Randy poses the question.

"Yablonski?" Nick tries refreshing his lover's memory,
"The police officer at Linguini's the night Mario
received the unfortunate imformation regarding his
father?"

"Right, right," Randy replies, "tall, blonde... the
police officer who was a victim of the homophobic
attack?"

"That's him."

Mario went on to monopolize the conversation.

"Gregor..." he paused, then went on, "I'm sure he
wouldn't mind me saying we went to his place. I
couldn't return home, it being a police scene, so he
offered."

Apparently, the facts presented tough to reveal
circumstances.

"You don't have to go on," Nicholas told him, "I think
we get the picture."

"All I wanted to say, is Gregor related the feelings
he had, to what I was feeling. It made a lot of sense
to me."

By now, Randy's body stood next to Nicholas' and
Mario's. His arm ran along the eighteen year old's
back, his wet hand soothing the teen's shoulder and
arm.

"Are you..."

Nicholas didn't wish to be personal, but wanted to
make sure Mario was being taken care of.

"I mean... I'm not trying to pry, but you.... and
Gregor...."

"We're seeing a lot of each other. In fact... from the
first night, I've been staying at his place. Do you
think it's wrong?"

"Wrong, Mario?" Nicholas shrugged his shoulders,
replying, "I've been there myself. I was a teen, down
on my luck, hungry, cold, with no place to go. If it
wasn't for the helping hand Anthony extended, I
could've been dealing at death's doorstep."

Hearing the whole story, Nicholas' departure from home
as a teenager, a castaway by unwanting parents of a
gay son, Randy knows the trials and tribulations
Nicholas has gone through. From their first night
together, mixed with emotional confessions, leading to
a loving encounter, finally sexual claiming, Randy has
got to know Nicholas as an overly caring individual.
He credits Anthony's charity giving to instilling the
giving character of his lover.

"I didn't know that," Mario states, wiping his nose
with his arm.

"Polluting the pool?"

Nicholas' joke lightened the atmosphere. The big
interruption came, when Nicholas was surprised by
somebody swimming between his legs, their head bashing
his balls.

"What tha fuck?"

Pressing his arms hard, between Nicholas' legs, made
him keel over backwards. Surfacing, Nicholas planed
the water off his face.

"You're dead meat, Anthony!"

Most of the swimmers, team members, plus friends,
cheered Anthony on, as the two wrestled in and out of
the water. Randy, at first a loner, dueted with Mario,
turning traitor to Anthony. Trying to get away,
Nicholas forwardly leapt at Anthony, the six foot two
man grabbing the back of Anthony's briefs.

"Oh shit!" Anthony called out, surfacing.

The crowd went wild with laughter, as Anthony claimed
the natural reaction of placing his hands over his
crotch, even though underwater, Nicholas proudly
displaying a pair of torn briefs in his hand, waving
them about as if a victory flag!

"Here coach!"

Slapping the surface of the water, in front of his
face, Brad Barkley's yellow and blue speedo began to
sink. Once two pair of swimming apparells had been
stripped, one accidentally, the other on purpose, all
hell broke loose. In addition to the free reign of
naked asses and crotches, wet apparell became hurling
ammunition, for body targets.

"Arrrrrgggghhh!" eighteen year old, Aldo Iacovanni,
yelled out in anguish.

Standing up, in the shallow end, one of the guys swung
a speedo through the air, whipping him across the
back. Aldo turned abruptly, looking dead into the eyes
of his assailant.

"Oh shit!"

"Of hell, will you look at that!"

Behind Aldo, Michael Tucker stood. Also Aldo's lover,
his finger traced along the pinkish-red welt.

"What?"

Clutching the wet weapon in his hand, Aldo looks over
his left shoulder, his right hand pulling against his
shoulder blade, to gain eye access to his back.

"Oh damn!"

One by one, the circle forms around Aldo, each
throwing in their comment, regarding the one inch wide
welt across his back, under the ridge of his shoulder
blades. All of the team members, except the culprit,
Jason Kellman, whom sits afloat, watching, spitting
water out of his mouth, wonders if retribution is in
store. Finally, the twenty-year old gets up enough
guts to swim over to the circle of sports buds, up to
their navels in water. He stands, the water suddenly
rushing down his chest and stomach.

"I didn't really mean to do it, Aldo."

He waited, as the others did, Aldo turning, facing
Jason, hands sitting on his hips, addresses him.

Brad, trying to justify things, adds, "We all had our
fun Aldo. I don't think Jason did it on purpose."

"Yeah, Aldo," Michael, who's hand has been latched
onto the Italian's shoulder consistently, says, "Jason
wouldn't hurt anybody on purpose."

Not in any way vengeful, Aldo sees the truth in their
reasoning. He offers his hand. Wary, still on his
guard, Jason looks about, then accepts the handshake.

"Yeah, it's okay."

"Sorry," Jason renounces his wicked ways, "I hope I
didn't hurt you too bad."

As has become over the past few months, a tight group,
friendships bonded, the two hug.

"Heeey, hey," Michael pulls on each of the embracing
jock's arms, "that's enough!"

Trading off, Jason and Michael switch places.

"I think that's enough fooling around for one day,"
Anthony states, breaking up the pool party.

When Anthony first came to Applegate, years back, the
program had fallen short, due to his predecessor's
lack of enthusiam. With his departure and Anthony's
addition, he's developed a special breed of
sportsmanship. Aldo's forgiveness has shone him he's
getting through to the bunch of former lax misfits.

"Go Anthony!" Nicholas states.

"What was that for?"

"On nothing," Nicholas replies.

As if a hidden meaning, each of the two has already
figured out the key to the short conversation.

"Thanks," Anthony says to Nicholas, a short hug
rendered.

"Where's the cafeteria?"

The two laugh, at the stringbean's inquiry.

"How about pizza?"

Somehow, the word `pizza' leaked out amoung the ranks.
As a convoy, the line of cars, jeeps and 4x4's, headed
out of the university parking lot. When they arrived
at Yaccovino's the parking lot already suggested a
long line of people, waiting to be seated.

"How about takeout?" Nicholas suggested, looking at
Anthony.

"Sure. Why not?"

The guys new what it meant, eating pizza and then
another pool party, this time at Coach Toricelli's
place. After the first time, under the same
circumstances, Yaccovino's being overbooked, the guys
showed they could be responsible enough. Never had
Anthony been approached by having students over to his
place, so he trusted the idea.

"Uh oh."

"What's up?" Anthony asked Nicholas.

"Out of paper plates."

"Oh?"

It was a nice way of Anthony hinting Nicholas, the
grocery store shopper for last week, that he mucked
up!

"Randy and I'll volunteer."

"How nice of you!"

Tossing on a dry tank top, Nicholas signaled Randy and
the two lit out.

%

"So, Mario, what's it like dating a guy ten years
older than yourself?"

Not all the guys waited out the paper plates in the
kitchen. In fact, Anthony and Roberto became the
perfect hosts, staying behind, preparing. Both pools
were in full swing, but not all chose to get in the
swim, as Mario and Dingxang proved, sitting far away
from poolside, lounging after their first coating of
water.

"I dunno. There's a lot of things I like about him,
plus he's been real nice to me."

Dingxang wasn't sure about asking, but figured it
okay.

"Does he have a big... you know?"

"Yes and no!"

"Huh?"

Smiling, Mario replied, "Yes, he's got a big cock and
no, he hasn't used it on me yet."

"Yet? Are you going to get serious with him?"

"I don't know."

"Have you... done anything?"

Mario wasn't sure whether he wanted to pour out his
whole sex life to a guy, however, at the same time, he
didn't want to brush his new friend off. He figured he
would keep it to a minimum.

"We slept together."

At the lull, Mario figured he would elaborate, from a
logical standpoint.

"That night, when he took me to his place..."

"Hmm, I'd think you would be too broken up, to try
some sex?"

"My father's house had become a crime scene. I didn't
have a choice."

"Oh."

Dingxang then realises what a doofus he is!

"Sorry `bout that."

"No, it's okay. You weren't there. You wouldn't know."

"Thanks for being understanding."

"Sure. I think, through meeting Gregor, it's taught me
something."

"Oh? What?"

The eighteen year old Italian explains himself, going
deeply into the subject.

"I'm not sure exactly how to put this.... Gregor has
shone me we're here to help each other."

"Here? Like where?"

"On this earth. I mean, there are times for games,
playing around, enjoying pleasures, but we've got to
find someone.... damn! I don't know what I'm saying."

"No, keep on," Dingxang replies, sitting up on the
edge of his lounger, facing Mario, "I think you're on
to something."

"I am?"

"Yeah. Keep going."

"I'm not sure where I was."

"You said we've got to find someone. I think you were
about to say something about finding the right guy."

"Right guy, Ding?"

Dingxang realizes he's spoken, not to imply, but has.

"Can I tell you something straight out, Mario?"

"Sure."

Sitting more attentively, Mario parks his elbow in the
cushion, turns his bod towards Dingxang, listens.

"To me, it sounds... which I'm no authority on the
subject, but, like I think you found a guy who wants
you."

"Wants me? I don't know about that."

"Do you want him?"

Not answering, Mario is lost for words, but not
thoughts. Turning, without another word, he slaps his
back against the cushy lounge chair, sinking into deep
thought.

%

"I can't believe every damn supermarket is out of
paper plates! What's this a conspiracy?"

Climbing back in the spare jeep, Nicholas revs up the
engine.

"Don't take it personally. Happens. Prolly their
summer stock is depleted."

"I guess you're right. Only one more place to try."

"Let's hit it!"

Reaching his neck around, to catch a view at the rear
of jeep, to back out, Nicholas' eyes meet with
Randy's. They steal a quick kiss from each other.

After traveling for over five minutes, Randy asks, "Is
this place far?"

"A little out of our way. Kind of off the beaten path,
but I'm sure they will have something for us."

"I don't like the looks of this area."

"Me neither, but I'll just dash in and out. Don't
worry."

Still a country look, it wasn't the spiffed up area
around where Anthony's mansion, nor the preface of
Applegate University, it's polished off little boxes
of houses, sitting along a tree-lined street. Instead,
every other house, several yards apart, either had a
broken down car in front, half stripped of wheels or
hoods, or an out of date appliance. Some, the front
yards looked like they hadn't been mowed for the whole
summer.

"Here we go. Be out in a minute, Rand!" Nicholas told
him, getting out.

"Make it a second?"

When Nicholas returned, all excited he found a hoard
of paper plates, his grin wore down quick when he
found Randy missing. Tossing the bundle in the jeep,
Nicholas sought to canvass the immediate area. The
jeep showed no signs of forced entry. Going back into
the store, he asked one of the four cashiers if they
had seen `a six foot tall, blond guy'? None stated
they had or just didn't care, if they did. Running to
each aisle, of the ten aisle store, he turned up
nothing. It's then he really began to panic. Exiting,
he came upon a guy, whom he determined part of
management, if not the owner himself.

"Hey, I can't seem to find the passenger, whom waited
for me, while I ran in here."

"Have you checked the jon?"

Turning out, the man was the manager, but not owner of
the store. In short conversational fashion, it was
relayed to Nicholas, the owner now lived in Florida,
while the manager sweated away, incarcerated in the
sticks, running a store, `being taken advantage of',
yet it was still `a job'. If not for the fact Randy
meant the world to him, he wouldn't have asked the
manager for his help. All the way to the jon, hidden
in the bowels of the store, the manager complained
about the work load, compared to the measly amount of
salary.

"Here we go."

"Way down here?"

"Yeah. At the bottom of the stairs, on the right."

Nicholas never made it to the jon, if in fact the
basement of the store had been the location of it, at
all.

%

"Nicholas back yet?" Roberto asked, coming into the
kitchen.

"Not yet."

"The guys are getting mighty hungry."

"Tell them to fill up on a protein drink!"

The two laughed.

"Hmm..."

Anthony knew the look on Roberto's face.

"Don't worry. You'll get yours tonight!"

"What if I can't wait? I'm feeling kind of weak."

Faking light-headedness, Roberto grabbed Anthony's
arm, falling to his knees, right in front of a likely
place. Smiling, he let nature take it's course.

"Oooooh, I feel soooo weak!"

"Hmm... I think I'm beyond helping you."

Roberto didn't wait for the final dialogue. Reaching
up, he took Anthony's shriveled up cock and using it
as a compass, pointed it to his mouth.

"Ooooooooh!" Anthony sighed, his butt wedging in
between the corner cabinets of the kitchen.

In his hand, Anthony had a jar of chocolate syrup,
caught in the act of getting condiments ready for the
desert, different flavors of ice cream and toppings.
As his tongue is swirling around the head of Anthony's
cock, the cocksucker spies the jar.

"What?" Anthony questions his look.

Still locked on to his sucking toy, Robert signals
with his eyes, the jar.

"This?" Anthony holds up the jar, coated inside with
brown.

"Yeah. Gimme it!"

"What for?" He asks, jar already surrendered.

"I love chocolate," Roberto replies. "I like chocolate
cream better!"

"No. You're not?"

Seeing it, but not stopping it, Anthony watches, as
Roberto unscrews the lid. First he smells it, taking
in the aroma. Then, with the opening facing Anthony's
cock-tip, he moves it closer.

"You're not?"

Still, Anthony's arms brace himself on the edges of
the countertops, wedged in the `L' section.

"Oh shit!" He calls out, as he feels his 9.5c enter
the jar.

Pulling the jar away a little, they both look upon the
head of Anthony's swollen shaft coated with the
chocolate.

"Feel good?"

Anthony replies, giddish, "It doesn't feel bad!"

His comment gives Roberto the go ahead to continue.
Slowly, Roberto lifts the jar.

"I think you hit rock bottom," Anthony says, feeling
his piss slit on the bottom of the jar.

"Then it is time for cleanup!"

With total disregard, Roberto slides the jar out.

"Oops!"

A long strand of chocolate waterfalls from Anthony's
cock. Being the jar only about five inches deep, a
line of demarcation goes around the hard shaft, four
and a half inches from the dark brown, bushy pubic
region. In the dripping process, his big balls are
partially coated.

"What are you waiting for? I thought you liked
chocolate?"

Arching his back, Anthony hit his head on the
microwave. Roberto didn't even flinch, as he closed
his eyes, enjoying his sticky, chocolaty treat.

%


Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection without prior written permission, by the
author.