Date: Sun, 18 Mar 2012 10:18:51 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tchase Mcphee <survivalgame@rocketmail.com>
Subject: SuPReME CouRTsHiP 01  {NEW Authoritarian-Love story)

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,
of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages,
neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental
areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male
relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy
sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not
read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most
states 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.

%


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on the web. Please consider making a donation. Any amount would be
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I freely publish to the Nifty Archives and `do not' receive a royalties
paycheck at the end of the month! TCMcP :)


%


SuPReME CouRTsHiP 01
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

Headed home from a long day of interviewing prospective clients, handling
two cases in court and then tying up the loose ends from one helluva day,
James Landis slides his laptop into his leather bag. Carefully he latches
it shut.

As he is doing it, he faintly smiles, thinking back to a time when he
handled a strap on a much larger scale, feeding the loose strand of each
strap through a rather large buckle, little larger than the size of a man's
belt buckle.

With the deed accomplished, cover closed and fastened so his laptop would
have no chance of sliding out, he's propelled back to reality.

He `had to check' though, a hand feeling himself up. `Yeah,' he thinks it
through, shaking his head from side to side in a mediocre manner, `got a
little one coming on!'

Slinging the bag over one shoulder and grabbing his keys, he sighs more
vocally, "Oh-h-h-h how I could do with a `massage'," to no one but his
empty office, pressing his shoulders back and then realigning himself to
the floor.

Out in the hallway he greets a couple of colleagues, but his main concern
is making a beeline to the elevator. On the third floor of the four story
community building, he could take the stairs, but takes the more
comfortable means of transport for a reason.

Not adverse to how some people's bodily shield could wear off at the end of
the day, James doesn't mind inhaling the aroma of `day-old' William
Biggles. In anticipation, James finds himself licking his lips, waiting for
the two red doors to open. Hearing a rumble, he perks up somewhat, trying
to work up a smile on his lips. He seems more alive, like that after work
drink with the boys, as the doors begin to separate.

Then, his jaw dropping open, from total surprise, with disappointment,
asks, "Where's William?"

Instead of William, a substitute in his place, James knew the guy, "Oh
right, Tim, isn't it?"

"Right." Then bossy, "Are you coming or going? There's like a wall of
people behind you?"

"Oh! Sure," James reacts after seeing he's keeping three from entering the
elevator.

Once, on the trip down to the parking level of the Courvis Community
Courthouse, James catches Tim's raising one eyebrow, but obviously knowing
he was being glanced back at, evaded James' eyes.

He didn't get a chance to ask and was glad the other three passengers got
off at the second floor, "By the way, what happened to William?"

Tim's palm goes forward, hitting the red button with the word `stop' on it,
causing the elevator to jolt to a halt.

"Oh my god!" James' brown glass frames point to the ceiling, then each
wall, before saying, "We're not stuck, are we?"

Standing there, feet shoulders width apart, arms folded at pec level, Tim
states, "What's your interest in William?"

Only meeting Tim once, William introducing them, other than good friends,
James knew nothing much of the two, responding, "Interest?"

Speaking frankly, because Tim senses things without knowing for sure,
"Yeah, William can't shut up talking about the attorney who works in the
court house. You, I take it, because I know your name is Landis. All
William can talk about is Mr. Landis, this, and Mr. Landis, that."

"Really?" James says, cracking a little smile. Then, like he's giving a
secret away, transposes himself with a fake cough, "Well, there's only one
Landis who works for the court house and that's me," looking deeply into
Tim's eyes and with paying close attention, "James Landis," he offers a
hand.

Returning the handshake, Tim replies, "We met once before, but I didn't get
your first name. I'm Tim."

"I..." because he was getting signals here, James says, "remember," he
smiles.

Keeping a straight face, Tim replies, his hand lingering as if for some
reason, "Good to meet you, now what about my question?"

He knew it was about William, his intentions, but right now James' mind was
set on the questioning, having `been there, done that', "Why does it feel
like I'm being interrogated?" he smiles.

There was one thing which stuck in Tim's mind, the first time meeting
James, a personality trait setting his mind off, `gay'. As time passed,
coupled with the man who could almost be his brother, William, saying he
could feel stares on his back every time he rode in the elevator with
`Mr. Landis', Tim replies, a cocky smile attached, "That could very well be
arranged?"

It was first time Tim deviated from his tough, dominant attitude, cracking
the smile. However, it wasn't a `happy' smile, as if drunk and dancing your
ass off at a gay club, but rather deviant.

James didn't have any reaction, being surprised, "Really?"

Unlatching his hand finally, Tim wove his hand inside James' suit jacket,
the side of his hand grazing the belt, feeling up torso, his fingertips
dipping under the beltline when his hand rounding the back.

Lost for words or action, all James wanted now was to go with the flow!

Going with it, with his other hand, Tim removes the brown-rimmed specs
right before his lips press in. Because they had just met, Tim allows James
to embrace him, accept the kiss, whereas others, they would need to ask
permission to touch!

Breaking, James was fully under the impression Tim would lead to something
else. He did, but not for himself, "So, about William?"

"William? What about him?" James asks, the kiss not fully worn off. Seconds
later it does, "Uh, sure. Yeah, I think William is a nice kid."

"Nice kid, huh?" Tim replies, returning to his stance, arms across his
middle. With not more to go on, Tim says, "William asked me to step in for
him. His truck broke down out on Old Route 15."

James was really confused, unsure where any of this was going, except this
now wasn't about him and Tim, but led off onto the subject of `William',
"Oh, so I suppose that's why you're here and he's not... helping him out?"

"As soon as Aaron gets here."

"Aaron?" James replies with confusion, not recalling the name or a face to
fit the identity.

"A friend," Tim replies, keeping it simple. "Yeah, as soon as he gets here
to take over, I'm jumping in my truck and getting over there to bail
William out." Still watching out for his dear friend, Tim asks, "So, you
have no interest in my bro?"

"Oh, he's your brother?"

"Not blood brothers, but yeah, we're close."

Except for the first time they met, James had only a clear vision of
William pictured in memory and just now, thinking on it, skips over his
inquisitiveness of wanting to know just how Tim and William are connected,
"I find William attractive."

Tim drops both arms, exhales, saying, "Cool," he adjusts his baseball cap
from backwards to forwards, "because I think William is having some kind of
feelings for you and well, he's not so good at figuring out stuff for
himself."

Because the atmosphere had tensed out, James relaxes, smiles, saying,
"Looks like he has a caring friend for a `brother'?"

"Thanks," Tim replies in a totally uninhibited, real way. "Hey, I hope I
wasn't out of line checking you out?"

"Are you talking about my background or checking me out with your hands?"

A cocky smile on his face, "Hands... and the kiss?"

Complimenting him, James says, "You're a good kisser."

"Thanks," Tim stood there, smiling.

"So, are we going to get this bucket restarted?"

"Sure!" Tim exclaims, making an about face and pulling on the red button he
pushed in.

The elevator descends a couple of inches, Tim hammering it back in with his
palm. "Oh by the way," twirls back around, hands making his baseball cap
flip the lid backwards.

"What?" James replies.

Because he sensed something more than James being `gay', "Anytime you want
to pursue an interrogation scene, I'm up for it!"

Standing there once again, a mix of dominance and pleasant smile, Tim
waited for an answer.

James replies, "I can't say you didn't make my balls tingle!"

Giving him the heads up, Tim says, "If you're up for it, I can make your
balls more than tingle?"

He didn't wait for James' answer, rather powering up the elevator and
allowing it drop one and a half floors down.

Both doors opening, a college aged dude was standing there, Tim greeting
him, "You made it?"

"Ah," he looked to James before answering, "yeah, I made it." He wasn't
sure if he should use the more formal manner Tim preferred.

"At ease," Tim says to the dude.

Immediately the guy unclasps his hands and as James perceives him clutched
behind his back, says, "Tim has good choice of friends!"

"Yeah, if Aaron here can only behave himself and keep out of trouble!"

James didn't know what that meant, didn't ask, only saying, "Oh really?"
because he didn't have a clue to a followup answer!

He is whacked out of his gourd when Tim says, "Aaron's a good
cocksucker. If I didn't need to cover William's elevator job, I'd have him
come out to the truck and suck you off, find out for yourself."

"Hmm," James smiled, thinking of the prospects. In his, packing the day in,
he reminisced on a time when he cuffed a man to his bed and `fed' his
victim. But those were days of experimentation, times of figuring out likes
and preferences. On the other side of the dominant/submissive coin, with
decisiveness, "And what would I be looking forward to wrapping my lips
around?"

With purpose, whether to show his authority, Tim replies, "Just give me the
word and a few hours of your time counselor and I'll more than hook you and
Aaron up!"

"It'd be a pleasure, sir," Aaron slips up on his public addressing.

Tim wasn't into being harshly dominant in public. At least not `this kind'
of public. With purpose, he had arranged for Aaron to show up on the
parking garage level, less rigid slave position, shoulders up, arms back,
hands clutched behind the small of the back, for appearance, yet curious of
how James would react.

And since he could talk freely, Aaron says, "And what would I be wrapping
my juicy lips around?"

Tim had done a once over of the dark parking garage and finding the trio
alone, slaps Aaron across the face, reprimanding him, "Don't you fuckin'
talk to the counselor that way, boy!"

James was pretty much as shocked as Aaron was, Tim breaking out of `public
attire' to address him as if they were in private quarters.

Though, Aaron was used to some masochistic treatment, what every slave who
looked up to Tim could expect, rendering, "Sorry, um..." he knew not to use
`sir' outside of the proper environment, but as Tim did, peruse for others,
"Sir."

"It's not `me' you should be apologizing to!"

Enough of a hint was thrown, Aaron turning to James, "Sorry about that
Mr. Landis. It was selfish of me to try to find out... well it doesn't
really matter. Whatever you have to offer, I'll take good care of you."

About to say something, James is cut off, "You bet your ass it doesn't
matter, because if and when I get you with our Mr. Landis, you won't have
to `know'. You'll be `feeling' it, boy!"

Quite overwhelming for James, to say the least, but knowing how frat-dudes
can play games, like dares, guys having to do laundry for a week, having
lost a bet or other shenanigans, he took it in stride. However, he did have
a lusty thought, "Maybe we can `feel' each other!"

If anybody wasn't hard, something was wrong here. However where Tim was
concerned, through their conversing, he has found out much about his bro's
Mr. Landis, enough to think maybe they would become fast friends.

With Aaron disappearing into the elevator, Tim and James walk the lot.

"Where are you parked?"

"Reserved," James replies.

"Must be nice. I had to wait ten minutes for a spot," Tim replies, meaning
to get his digs.

Playing off their conversation with Aaron, "I take it you're not in the
habit of waiting?"

Tim knew where James was going with this, "You puzzle me. I'd like to have
some fun with you, whenever you free up some spare time?"

He had a picture of Tim in his mind, `master', `rough top' in projecting an
image, definitely gay and into lots of sex, but furthering his knowledge,
"What would you have in mind?"

This could take time, some time at that, Tim saying, "Why don't you follow
my truck and we can have a beer over comparing out interests?"

He should have been backing off, James having in his mind being naughty at
that, back in the elevator when Tim first wove a hand in under his tight
belt. Too overbearing on his mind, James gave in and once into it, allowing
his cock and balls to rule over his mind, says, "Sure. Never know what it
could lead to!"

So it goes, each man jumping into their vehicles, James following Tim's
truck out of the parking garage, straight ahead, through the governing
traffic light and onto the service road. Parallel for awhile, it merges
with Route 15. About 4 minutes down the highway there is an exit sign
reading, `Old Route 15'.

Tim veering off, is singing to Rascal Flatts' `Changed', a testimony he
claims for his own life. As such, he veers off in thought, thinking about
James. His mind switches direction, as if doing a mental take, from head to
torso, `messy', reddish-brown hair, brown glasses covering up brown eyes,
day-long shadow about James' cheekbones... That was it for now, Tim
dreaming of a hopeful hairy chest, thick trail leading to either a
bellyhole swirl or even a shag line to whatever James' pubes
held. Switching from hair patterns, which turned Tim on, the different
designs a man's bod fur could behold, he began thinking of James in the
buff, totally under his command. One hand slipped from the steering
wheel. With it comes a change of thought. Deeming himself 99% top, that 1%
snakes atop his balls, smiles, his mind on how it could be if the tables
were turned.

About 3 miles up the road, James recognizes a truck standing on the side of
the road. There had been one or two times he hung back in his office,
waiting for William's shift to end and cautiously, as not to be seen as a
stalker, following him out to the parking lot. Thus, it had been the way
James knew Tim would be pulling over, so slowed down prematurely.

Getting out of his truck, Tim motions for James to follow, a waving of his
hand, `c'mon'.

The hood of William's truck was up, but William was not to be seen, until
first Tim, then James, approach the front of the vehicle.

Seeing William's shirt off was a delight for James, as well as a
revelation. He never thought about it, William working out at a gym,
therefore was surprised by the tight pecs and a few ripples of a beginning
sixpack. Rather than comment on the scant chest haired pecs and thick
stripe cascading down the taut abs, James says, "Hey, how's it going,
William?"

"Oh hi Mr. Landis, what are you doing here?" Williams eyes light up. Then,
back to the truck, "Things could be better."

Since Tim was used to seeing William dressed in a lot less, rather
undressed to be precise, since they shared a boxy, Cape Cod house Tim's
father rented for him while at college, he wasn't phased by the flesh and
hair, but rather went right for the engine.

"Is it terminal?" William asks, yet his attention divided.

"I don't know. I have to hear it." Rather than mention William, Tim says,
"Get behind the wheel and start it up Jim!"

"Uh, sure," James wasn't sure, but taken aback by suddenly being christened
with the nickname.

While behind the wheel, he could see in between the gap, over the
dashboard, under the hinge of the hood. He smiled, bit a lip, wondering how
it would taste, his tongue licking over those abs. He also took note how
low William wore his pants, his thick, dark brown treasure trail being
`long', before it was cut off by a belt buckle.

Obviously, William and Tim had `talked', William coming around the side,
yelling, "Cut it, Jim!" adding a `sharp' finger to his neck line, to
execute the order, `cut it!'

Turning off the ignition, James smiled, thinking of `Jim'. Back in law
school it was either `Jim' or `Jay', one or two calling him `James', most
of the time by one professor. Caught up in his reverie, it halted only when
William appeared at his window, saying out loud, "Tim says it's a goner and
that you can give me a ride back home, Jim," William still tried out the
new name-calling.

`Never mind the offer', James thought, but wasn't phased over the courtesy,
replying, "It's not going to start today, huh, `Bill'?" `Jim' adds some
humor to William's dilemma.

For a moment they paused, eyes locking, until `Bill' says, "Or any other
day. It's finished!" He slaps his palms together.

With the slamming of the hood, Tim passes by, roughly saying, "Hey, you
guys wanna hustle? I like got a date?"

Pulling the handle, William ushers James out, "We better go." Laughing, he
warns, "We don't want to make Tim mad!" He laughs out loud.

"Somehow, and I don't know why, but get the feeling `you` could never do
anything to make Tim mad," James steps out of the dead truck.

He has a quick deja vu, putting 2 and 2 together, prior response from Tim,
something about doing stuff together when they got back to his place, but
then a new revelation, Tim having a date? `Hmm', James thought on it.

Tim rushed on ahead, pulling out, leaving a big gap between William's Chevy
and the Mercedes.

"Cool! I get to ride in luxury!" William exclaims, immediately reporting to
the passenger side.

It was locked, a beep of James' key chain to open it, himself climbing in
behind the wheel, "Where to, navigator?"

A pet name thrown at him, William smiles, responding, "You know Salt Creek
Road?"

"Coming right up!" James puts his car in gear after the greeting, like a
waiter ordering up a delicious meal!

Each had a few questions, other then `elevator talk', more than what the
weather was going to be over the next few days or what team would dominate
the Superbowl, though both allowed the scenery to fly by.

Enough of the local terrain, James asks, "So-o, how did you happen to meet
up with Tim?"

"It was an accident."

"Accident?!" James exclaims with horror.

"No, not like an accident where somebody gets hurt, though," William speaks
with pride, "it could have ended up that way."

James suddenly says, "Hold on a sec!" He maneuvers the turn onto Salt Creek
Road. "Okay go ahead, but don't forget to tell me where to turn."

"We got time." Though William made a short story out of meeting up with
Tim, "I was being adventurous, going to a gay bar all by myself."

"How old were you?"

"Oh, I was legal age, 18. I'm 19, you know?"

"This was only last year then?" James replies, seeing the yellow sign with
wavy curves and 15mph, slowing.

"Yep," William seems to settle in, like reliving the day he met Tim. "I was
kind of overwhelmed with the place, my first time, seeing some guys without
their shirts on. Oh wait!"

"What?" James jambs on the brakes, which at 15mph, no one would get
whiplash, only startled by a sudden stop.

Realizing James has gotten the wrong impression, "The turn isn't until you
get out of the serpentine part of the road."

"Serpentine, eh?"

An explanation due, William says, "I only said `wait', because I have to
back up in the story a little."

"Oh, I thought..."

Reading James, "I know you thought, but anyway, over the past two or three
years this new kid at school had been bothering me."

"You mean `bullying'?" James knew the `word', one he has dealt with in
court surprisingly. In the past, school kids would keep it to themselves,
the outcome living with it or dying with the secret. He always praises a
student for coming forth.

Reluctantly, William tells, "Uh, yeah, I guess it is bullying. So, this
dude from school, I see him at the bar. He's with two other guys I never
saw before."

"Tim?"

"No. Tim hadn't gotten there yet or at least I hadn't seen him there if he
had. Regardless, it had been too late to turn around and hightail it out of
there, coming face to face with him."

"Got a name?" his lawyer instincts kicked in.

"Kenny Courvis."

"Courvis? As in Courvis Community Courthouse?"

"Yeah. Almost the last of a dying breed, thank god!" it spikes William's
humor, with a giggle.

Still with his instincts, James inquires, "You said he bullied you for two
or three years?"

"Right."

"Where was he before then?"

William replies, "Some swanky boy's school up near Boston. He got kicked
out."

"I wonder why?" James replies facetiously, already getting a character
sketch of Kenny.

"You're getting close," William interjects.

His mind on the verge of where Tim comes into William's life, James says,
"Close?"

"To where Tim and I live?"

"Oh right," James replies with a snicker, "I knew that!"

William deviates from the subject, "Y'know, you're kind of cool for an
older guy?"

"Older? I'm not like your gran'father y'know?"

"I `meant', older than me?"

James knew William was searching for a number, "You're 19. I'm 10 years
older. You do the math!" He chuckles.

William replies, "I'm an english major," instantly changing the subject
because he `gets it', "to make a long story short, Kenny Courvis started to
show off in front of his buddies, who happened to be part of a motorcycle
gang. The bar was crowded. I'm standing there in front of Kenny, when some
dude bumps into me from behind. I lost my balance, falling forward right
into Kenny, of which his drink winds up on his barechest and then picture
`me falling' against him, my shirt blotting up his drink.

"I don't suppose he liked neither you, nor his drink, winding up on his
chest?"

"Hardly. A normal person would have seen it as a clumsy mistake, me losing
my footing, but not Kenny, especially in front of his greasy
friends. Instead he yells, `Get this fuckin' piece of shit offa me!'."

"Let me guess who comes to his rescue," James slows even more, coming out
of the hairpin turns.

"You're right. One of the motorcycle dudes picks me off of Kenny like a
piece of lint off of a sweater. The other says to Kenny, `you want us to
take care of him?'. Kenny laughed and told them to take me out back, that
he needed some entertainment."

Thinking of this darling 19 year old, an impression James had many a time
he's ridden the elevator, of anything malicious happening to him, he had to
render, "I hope Tim shows up soon?!"

"Him and Aaron, yeah they pulled up, so Tim told me later, to see the two
dirtbags hauling me off, around the side of the building. Tim also told me
he knew Kenny Courvis and of his reputation. Seems that Tim was finishing
up his senior year at the `swanky school', when Kenny had just started!
Small world, huh?"

"That it is."

"Next left. If you knew Tim, like I know Tim, you will have an impression
of how he conducts himself..."

James cuts in, "Oh, I think I pretty much have his character down pat!"

"Slow down here."

Having sped up to 25mph, James slows down to negotiate the left turn,
saying what he reads off the sign, "Mulberry Circle?"

"That's it." And because they were a minute before parking, "So Tim and
Aaron come and save the day and that's how I met him."

It wasn't quite what James was looking for, not that he cared to listen to
every scarce, juicy detail, but at least searching for more of an in depth
meaning to the pair's relationship. For now he put it on the back burner,
admiring the neighborhood, "I've never been up this way."

"How long have you lived in Courvis?"

"About 6 months."

"Really?" William says with excitement, "then you're still a newcomer?"

"I guess I am at that. At least to this neck of the woods."

"Next right. There's no street sign. Only a driveway."

"Looks like all we've got around here are driveways," James replies.

William tells, "All the homes are far from the roadway. Makes it more
private." Because James was watching for the turn, it gave William time to
check him out some more. Sure, he didn't look like a teenager and he didn't
personally know anyone around 29, to compare with James.

"This it?"

"This is it."

Turning, James says, "Somebody should do something about trimming these
bushes." He was concerned about it scratching up his Mercedes.

"It's okay. They won't hurt your car. They're soft bushes." Making a
correlation here, William wondered how soft James could be under the
clothes. Nearing home seemed to stoke up these feelings.

"Looks like a house up ahead."

"That's it!" William shows unintentional excitement.

Pulling alongside a white fence in front, James says, "Charming looking
place."

"Yeah, it is," William looks towards the front facing of the Cape Cod
house.

Since James had to peer over to William's side of the car, he secondly
viewed the 19 year old. Turning back fast, he got snagged!

William says comically, "Have we met?"

"Let me translate that. You mean have I just been snagged stalking you?"

"I've got a confession to make, James."

"James? I thought it was `Jim'," James questions, more curious for, " but,
what's your confession?"

"It's okay for Tim to call you `Jim', but you look more like a `James' to
me. My confession? We're even, because I checked you out more than a few
times in the elevator mirror."

Smiling, James replies, "I know!"

"And you didn't tell me?" William busts chops.

"What was I supposed to say? `Hey kid... stop stalking me!'" James
laughs. "Besides..."

William guesses, "You did the same thing?"

"Why would I need a mirror? I was standing behind you. `Most of the time',
I had an uninterrupted view of your ass!"

Getting an impression, Williams states, "Oh, so you're like the guy who
likes to go right to it, get it on with a guy, and worry about getting to
know him later?"

"Nah. I just thought you had a cute ass. Some guys I've jumped right into
the sack with, but that's depending on the guy. You? I think it would fun
to get to know you."

Not sure about all this, William asks, "Don't you have friends your own
age?"

"Uh," James bites a lip, then says, "I've lived here 6 months, but really
there's no one I hang with, except maybe Fritz down at Jack's Service
Center?"

William laughs, saying, "Fritz is a dog!"

"Yeah, but the awesome part is, he's a good listener and never talks back!"

With a crooked smile, William looks at James, saying, "You're cute."

Continuing his witty rhetoric, James replies, "So, are you going to invite
me in so we can strip each other down and make some love-talk?"

"Tim said you were dropping me off."

"Oh, would Tim have a problem with you bringing a guy home?"

William replies, a smile attached, "I dunno. I never have." To James
surprise, William reaches over, turns the car off and snatches the key out
of the ignition.

"That's clever."

"Turning your car off?"

"No," James replies, "turning my car off, run into the house, make me
follow and then seduce me?!"

"You know what?"

"What?" James replies.

"I `like' that plan!"

Seconds later, James stood two steps down, looking at the front door left
open!

%

Copyright 2012 T. Chase McPhee

`SuPReME CouRTsHiP', 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