Date: Sat, 1 Oct 2011 13:24:29 -0700 (PDT) From: Tchase Mcphee Subject: BeaR GaRDeN 09 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. BeaR GaRDeN 09 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee % From Michael's point of view, when he and Sven reached his room, from the time they walked in the door, it closing, it was payback time! Michael was already stripped out of his clothing, so it became natural for him to jump backwards into the bed, spread his legs and placing his hands behind his head, bod in a relaxed, reclining state, suggests, "Now why don't you start by putting on a hot strip show for me, Sven?" If Sven had to measure up a guy to meet his standards, Michael fit the picture perfectly. It was one of his fetishes, always wanting to strip for a guy and so he went at it with precision, slowly unbuttoning the shirt he took off downstairs, putting it back on for the sole purpose of being sexy as he deprived his bod of it once again, intent on entertaining. "A little faster with the buttons, Sven?" Michael says, a hand gliding down to his pubes. "Oh yeah, that's nice. Now slide the shirt slowly off your shoulders." Taking the bait, Sven's pants were quickly filling up as his shirt drops down his back, collecting at his wrists, cuffing them together. "Wanna see?" "Fuckin' hot! I love it!" Michael replies to the bound wrists. "Before you lose the shirt, why don't you crawl up here and give my cock a little `entertainment?'!" He did it with subtleness, like Sven has been working at it all his life, shimmying on his knees, from the foot of the bed to midway, whereas he couldn't accomodate his own two knees between Michael's legs, less he `break' the wishbone! Too, it took little effort, showing Sven's expertise at bowing over, opening his mouth, the Swede gobbling up Michael's semi-erection. "Yeah, nice... oh-h-h-h-so-nice!" Michael gasps, like cold ice touching lukewarm skin. Firming Michael up, Sven slowly works his shirt from his wrists. With one attached, he swings the shirt behind him, casting it away, presumably to the floor. With his hands working Michael's bod, Michael's hands make it his responsibility to help Sven work his pants down his legs. Nothing is said, only action. The first time they met, which happened to be at the Bear Garden, Michael had learned of Sven's `shy' brother. It was during after hours, after the Bear Garden closed, they concocted up this plan of getting Sven's brother, Jef, involved with another man. It wasn't without research on Sven's part. Home from college and upon discovering the bear hangout, he had visited many times, checking out the door greeter, bouncer and whatever other position he saw the dude working. He watched how Barry interacted with people, how he could forceful, fair and at times break out of his tough-guy mold, being kind and sympathetic. He especially was impressed by Barry, when he dealt with this guy in front of him. Not directly in front of him, on line, but in front of this dude named, `Ian'. He had watched Barry handling this other dude, Thomas, and not much different from Jef, knew Barry was `the one.' However, right now, the only thing Sven was thinking about was `payback' retribution, treating Michael nice for putting on a charade, to lure Barry to Jef. First time he and Michael were together above the sheets, Michael play up to him, though they didn't get as far as ass-plugging. Consequently, Sven considered himself a top man, but seconds before shimmying up the bed on his knees, he was saying to himself, `A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do!' Even so, now he was going at Michael's cock with different attitude. His tongue seemed to like being stuck out of his mouth, licking from the base, upwards, slipping over the lip and then licking the `bulb,' while his orifice consumed. On the rebound, he pursed his lips, much like he's had other men do to him when they opened wide, closed and then traveled the length in reverse, from hairy base, to top. "Oh-h-h-h shit you're hot!" Now Sven knew how one of the many bottom boys who have serviced him felt, the sense of pride in pleasing a man, though he wasn't so sure, going down on Michael's cock until his mouth was completely full and a hand at the back of his head, pushing down, like Michael wanted to fit more of himself into his mouth, when only so much would, less it choked the living daylights out of him! After coughing, complaining and coming up for air, Michael responds, "Oh really, Sven? And how many guys have you tried to `suffocate' in your lifetime?" Michael `had him', Sven knowing he used the same technique, often going beyond the tonsils of a guy, having him choke on all nine inches, his only recourse but to supply, "Yeah... well... It's not like the dude wasn't liking it!" A bit thirsty for some reciprocate action, Michael says as he sits up, "Lose the briefs. We need to do some 6-9ing!" At first, Sven thought one foot on the floor, a knee on the bed was all that was needed to strip down his briefs, but he wound up standing. It didn't matter, because Michael was kneeling on the bed, commanding, "You lay down." It's how Sven preferred it, a past reaction to have his `submissive' work him over orally, him relaxing. However this was partially the case, with Michael's junk hanging over his face. "Open up!" Michael said, almost as if it were a joke. Following through, because he knew he `owed' Michael, Sven divided his lips. Instead of the tip of Michael's cock, his sacs dropped right at the base of his nose, with the words, "Wanna do my balls first?" Even so `asked', Sven knew he wasn't being given a choice. Yet, the bristly sacs made him raise an eyebrow, realizing the one time he made love to a guy's manhood, the balls were shaved. A new experience before him, Sven was out for comparison shopping. Thinking otherwise, Michael says, "I guess not," jacking his thighs up, with apparent choice of sitting up on his knees. "No, noo-o!" Sven disagree with the action, his arms closing around Michael's waist and keeping him from pulling his balls out of Sven's face. Michael was really surprised. He had expected `his' reaction, instead of Sven giving up. He couldn't say he was displeased though! Too, he had all intentions of reciprocating, but when Sven's mouth surrounded one of his globes, closed up, isolating one of his ballsacs, all Michael could think of was the pleasure involved. "Oh-h yeah! Oh yeah! Oh fuck yeah!" Not that Sven would be able to answer, Michael asks, as he arches his back, "Are you sure you haven't done this before?" So engrossed in tonguing around the ball, swimming in the fluid of Michael's sac, Sven also found it quite pleasurable to have his tongue pick up on the hair, like rubbing it over something grainy. He could only compare it to sandpaper, but knew it would not make his tongue sore. Though, he started to `panic' a bit when Michael decides to try to stuff his other sac in! "Nada!" Michael surrenders, but instead of pulling half the sac out he tried stuffing in Sven's mouth, pulls both out and replaces it with his cock. He had all intentions, upon mounting Sven in a 69 position, of bending over and gobbling up Sven's nine inches, but even without corroboration, he knew this wasn't Sven's first blow job. Curious about precision, Michael gently lifts his bod and later he would not recall knowing how he did it, but turned clockwise, acting like a propeller, until he sat on Sven's chest. As for Sven, he never questioned himself doing all the sucking, because he was thoroughly enjoying the feeling of licking up and down Michael's hard shaft, especially near the base, where it collided with his hairy pubes. Unlike any time in his gay life, has he enjoyed lapping at a man's trimmed landscape. Michael, he thought about it after the fact, after telling Sven, "Forget the pubes. Want to get back on my cock?" Call it boredom, or really getting into it, Michael found himself being bowled over, flatlining on the bed, Sven really going to town with his mouth. Before, Michael was more concerned with his shaft keeping hard and feeling good. Now, totally relaxed, he allowed Sven to travel around, work his way up his treasure trail, dip his tongue into his small bellyhole, lick up his abs, then tackle his pecs individually. "Oh-damn, Sven!" he calls out when Sven cups his mouth over Michael's nip, cups lips and pinches them softly. He wasn't the only one enjoying the luscious nip pleasuring, Sven licking around the furry nip, tasting Michael's sweat and like he was responsible to mop up the mess, licked away at his whole peck like a vacuum cleaner! Not oblivious to the development of Sven's pubic status, Michael reaches a hand down and starts playing with his cock, which set off small moans out of Sven's throat. Contrary feeling, comparing to when Michael was with Barry, the more power in Sven's administering mouth, the more dominant he grew, without intentionally becoming this way, born out of a natural feeling of all the sucking, licking and cupping of lips feeling good, "You got me so boned up, Sven, I gotta do something about it." It wasn't a question, but more a statement to provoke thought. As for Sven, it was a milestone in his life, at twenty-six years old, a first for him, allowing a man to divide and conquer. Straddling Michael with both knees, he wiped the drool from his mouth with the back of his hand. Even though Sven knew where Michael wanted to go with this `idea', Michael's stiff shaft stuck in the `up' position, he was unsure. One thing which irked him on, which surprised Sven himself, were the pulses of his ass muscles, like he was clenching something which wasn't there. No, but he could just imagine, changing his glance from Michael's face, following the trail down his bod, to his pubes and laying eyes once again on the tall tube, "You want to put that in my ass?" "Dah," Michael replies, "isn't it how fucking is done?!" The blond gulped. Part of Sven wanted to reject the thought of having his ass split open for the first time, but was at war with himself, that pulsing feeling wanting to feel it for the first time. "What's it gonna be Sven? Better hurry up and decide before I start to wilt?" Michael play him up. From decisions to Michael's pubes, Sven refocuses, a slight gap in his mouth closes up after verbaly thinking, "Um," closing and biting a lip, for him a moment of indecision. Putting on the pressure, Michael takes one of his hands from the lax position behind his head and makes a beeline for his own cock, lightly stoking it. Weighing against the rejection of course was why he was in bed with Michael. He owed Michael. Watching Michael keep himself hard, rather than his wet lips, Sven gives in, "How do you want me?" "It's up to you," Michael seemed to make indecision for Sven worse. "You can either jackknife yourself over my pubes and work your ass up and down my pole or we can do it doggie style?" It helped having experience, Sven thinking over how many different ways `he' liked to do it. Of course it depended on whether his bottom-boy took it up the ass or down the throat, the position he was in to deliver his hot load, but part of the equation was whether it was throat or ass. He knew Michael wanted his ass, which limited his decision. Another aspect was lying down and getting fucked or, as he recalled from fucking guys, what pleased the other guy, lying down and taking it, sitting on his nine inches? "Anything yet, Sven?" Michael said with impatience, spitting into his hand and then returning it, to his wet his drying cock. "Yeah, uh," Sven tried making up his mind quick, "uh, I guess I'll..." he stalled and stalled and stalled, "take it... hmm..." "Never mind!" Michael smiled. He had faked Sven out! "What?" Sven questions, as Michael reaches under his thighs, lifting his legs in the air, which made Sven shutter as the two feet go whizzing past his ears. "What are you doing, Michael?" "Hey," like a joke Michael replies, "you're already hard Sven. You might as well be doing something with that monster!" Little did Sven realize, the whole time he was thinking about whether or not he wanted to get fucked by Michael, coupled with thinking over past experiences of his own experiences with bottom-guys, his hand was stimulating himself and quite effectively. He made a last ditch effort, though against his true feelings, "But I owe you?!" "Yeah, I know," Michael giggles, "so just plug my hole and we'll call it even, okay?" It was like a setup, as with what the two planned for Jef and Barry, everything all ready and set to go, Michael's hairy ass all ready for plugging, Sven's cock hard as a rock, right there in the `foyer.' "You really want it?" Sven made sure, but was certain Michael did. Responding, Michael says, "Not any more than you want it, huh Sven? Huh? Huh?" he joked, laughing off his little `fuck scam!' Like he felt an apology was needed, Sven seriously replies, "Sorry, but I don't think I could ever get used to a guy doing it to me." "Yeah, like how could I not tell, Sven? Like you took your own damned sweet time deciding?" Michael laughs, adding, "Almost made me go soft?" Sven could see Michael wasn't thrown back over his decision, the smile on his face. Sure, he was all primed, but maybe a little dry around the barrel, however because of the sweet smile on his face, he thought, "First things first!" He satisfied his compulsive desire in the long run, but first caving in, between Michael's legs and sweetly exchanging a French kiss, followed by some light kissing. Fact is, it was Michael who offered his mouth up to Sven, to lube up his shaft, but it only took seconds to make it wet, Sven losing control and slipping down Michael's bod, parting the legs, lifting him onto his broad shoulders. "Hey, Sven?" "What?" Sven asks, his cock in his hand, jump about to make contact. "If it means anything to ya, I never fucked a guy?" "Okay," Sven replies, the smooth blond all ready to slip in. "Except down the throat, or on his chest, or... What I meant is I never fucked a guy up the ass?" "That's nice, but if you don't shut up, I'm going to have to leave my load outside the door?" Michael sealed his lips. Not wasting any time, Sven felt the full throttle of pumping ass! % It kept on creeping up on him, what Michael did to him, yet Barry was undecided of whether he was really pissed over being set up or not, particularly because he thought Jef Scholten was a real `hunky cub!' "And that's what I heard," Jef concludes his fact-filled story, of what he accidentally caught his brother and Michael chatting about. "Hmm, I'm thinking," Barry `was' mulling it over, rubbing his right hand over his midchest fur, like it would help him make up his mind. In his own thinking, perhaps it might help Barry choose his own path, Jef says, "I knew I should have thought like hating Sven, but I don't and you know why?" "Why?" Barry tilts his head and looks up at Jef. "Because when I heard them talking about you and me, I knew who you were and I didn't think I would mind meeting you and having a date. If Sven and Michael didn't set me up to meet you here today, I don't think it would have happened!" "Why not?" Barry was curious. "Because it's not like me to go up to a guy and ask him out. Sven knows I like to keep to myself," Jef explains. "And why is that, Jef?" "I dunno. It's just the way I am. Sven says it's genetics, that we're not all the same." Barry could agree with that, though he knew nothing of scientific matters, though was well-rehearsed on how a guy could get an erection and keep it until it was time to spend his load! Looking on the whole scenario the way Jef spell it out, Barry saw how the outcome weighed against the sneaky plot. Still, he wasn't happy about how Michael led him on. However, one thing he learned is, a guy didn't have to be a big, built bear, but a skinny cub turned him on just as much and to look at how to be happy with someone else, didn't depend on their physical assets, or lack of. His long period of silence causes Jef to say, "Are you thinking it over, Barry, like you don't like me now because of what I told you?" Sitting next to each other in white metal garden chairs, Barry reaches over, grabs Jef's right hand and pulls him up from where he's sitting, "C'mere!" "What are you doing?" Jef felt strange about this arrangement. He had seen pictures of guys at a White Party and they did sexy stuff, like come right over to a guy, part their legs and sit right down on a guy, butt on knees, their cock and balls slapping agains the other dude's junk. "Wow!" was his reaction, as Jef looked down between them. "What's `wow?'" Barry asks. Jef replies innocently, his medium blond pubic hair mixing with Barry's dark bush, "They say there's always a first time for everything!" "Oh really?" Barry said, a bit giddy, "Who is `they?'" Leaving his reply unsaid, Jef reeling with pleasure as Barry sneaks a hand in between the crevice of their bods, taking both their cocks in his big hand. Comfortable with the stoking of both, Jef takes the chance of loosening the gripping of the sides of the chair, moving them to the tops of Barry's shoulders. Barry had to admit, it sure felt good and why wouldn't it feel rather awesome, to put it mildly, his hand stroking up and down two shafts at once? Realizing there was more to Jef than a hard cock, Barry looks straight ahead, smiling, his free hand removing the black-framed glasses. "Hey! I can't see without my glasses!" Jef proclaims. However, being so close, he changes his mind, "Hey, I can see!" Looking deeply into Jef's eyes, Barry began to lose momentum with his busy hand. Like he had thought before, there was more to Jef than his big cock. Because Jef had already latched onto his own bod with two hands, applying his own two, it took only a simple amount of movement to feel their chests press together, as well as other parts of the frontal anatomy, kissing each other. At first Jef was unsure. As far as kissing went, for himself, kissing `hello' or `goodbye' was it for him. New to him, tongue exchange and puckering up for kissing pleasure, he thought he would have to work at it, but got surprised because it seemed like the most natural thing! % "Good, you're here Ian," Bill Basehart greets him at the door, "I'm getting so hard wanting to hurt Geoff!" `Strange door greeting,' Ian thought, but then again, knowing Bill's strange fetish, taking a liking to using toys or his bare hands to hurt a guy, he let it go over his head. Bill was staying in the same neighborhood where Ian resides. Upscale, there were many middle of the road famous people, the Rinaldi's, Alex Nouguet, famous men's briefs designer and his partner, the kitchen design mogul, Kyle Dryfiss, and not the last of a long list of residents, `Simon Weiss.' As they walked through the house, entering a door which took them downstairs, Ian refreshed his memory on the history of how Bill weaseled his way into the Weiss household. As with himself, he knew Bill met up with Avi, short for `Avraham', because his uncle had the same name, at college. After Avi had learned of Bill's favorite fetish of accomodating dudes who could get hard from receiving pain, mentioned `Uncle Avraham' and his famous basement parties, similarities with their `hobby', he got his uncle to invite Bill over for dinner. Soon Avi's threeway dinner party became two, because it was like he was a wallflower at the dinner table. Ian recounts the conversation, which Avi told, how Avraham, co-owning the famous men's shop, `Everyman' with Avi's father and Bill wanting to break into the clothes designing field, drew up a good match between them. It became a good boyfriend relationship too, as Avraham was single, as was bill, but learning of they way they liked to mix sex and other things, cemented their relationship. "Geoff?" Ian says, entering the basement retreat. Geoff was naked, strung up, eagle-spread, leather cuffs at wrists and ankles, chains keeping his bod taught in his bondage. "About time you got here!" Geoff scolds. Bill, ignoring Ian for the moment, barks at Geoff, "Watch your talk, boy!" `Boy?' Ian looks at Geoff, thinking about an eight year old. Knowledgeable about Geoff, he knew him to be twenty-five years old and part of a sales staff of some company. Too, with the hairy chest, stomach, embedded stripe down the middle, hairy endowment and close-cropped beard, a bit `ginger' on chops, Geoff was `all man'. He laughs, "Boy?" Bill smiled, a cunning look to him, saying, "That's right. And now he has `two' masters to please today!" Whether it was put on or true feelings, Geoff replies, "Fuck that! I ain't servin' Ian!" They had been friends for a long time, always coupling up to dance together at the Bear Garden and though they hadn't gone beyond some light kissing from neck to navel, Ian considered Geoff Long a very good friend. To have him renege on that, Ian replies, "Well `fuck you', Geoff!" Falling prey to Bill's intentions, he hands Ian a flogger, saying, "Here, punish him!" Changing like day to night, Ian took the flogger, but handed it back, saying, "I'm not doing any such thing to Geoff!" He thought he was being kind, Ian getting Geoff back into his good graces, but then Geoff says, "I always knew you were a woos, Ian!" "I told you to mind your manners, boy!" With the intensity of his words, Bill draws the multi-tailed leather piece back behind him, thrashing it forwards against his shoulder blades. "Ahk-k-k-k-k-oh-fuck!" Geoff reponds, dropping his head back, squinting. He knew both Geoff and Bill were into this stuff, but witnessed his first bdsm-thing, responding, "Shit, that's got to hurt!" Bill and Geoff were way ahead of Ian, having thought up a nifty little scenario before he arrived on the scene. Not totally out of sync with their play, Ian, finding Geoff recovering at monumental speed, with a subtle, `Whew, that was hot!', he changes his mind, "Oh but of course, you liked that, didn't you Geoff?" Which, it made Ian think Geoff's `speech', getting the scene going was all a fake. However, the `scene' is interrupted by footsteps on the stairs, shortly, a hairy man of a beast, decked out in a leather harness and chaps, approaching the trio, "Ian! Glad you could make it!" Knowing him from when he moved into the neighborhood, around sixteen, Ian says, "Oh hi, Mr. Weiss." They greet each other with words and not much else, except, "I think you're old enough to drop the formalities, Ian. Why not call me `Avraham'?" "Yeah, sure." Recalling his friend, `Avi,' "I'd call you `Avi', but I already know it's taken!" Cordially, Avraham chortled, but getting down to finer matters, "Ian, can you get into `this'?" Ian rounded his mouth. Right now, he was thinking, `no,' because he was sure he could not get into the way Bill was hammering Geoff's back with the flogger. Though, is `this' could be put in a different perspective, "Gee, it's sure making Geoff hard?!" Rubbing his bear fur against Ian's arm, Avaraham asks, "How would you like to make me `hard', Ian?" Right away Ian thinks of himself in Geoff's place, saying, "Uh, I don't think I'm interested in walking out of here, looking like a tiger?" "There's more than one way to have fun, Ian. Say, how would you like to see my buttplug collection?" Ian's ass twitched right away as if TC had just inserted a popsicle stick! "Um, maybe," Ian replied. It wasn't on his mind right now of checking out the sizes of buttplugs which made up Avraham's collection, but rather how it felt with his `ass' checking it out! "Here are the smaller ones," Avaraham introduces Ian to `small', `medium', `large', `XL', "and over here," he closes the drawer, walking to a side shelf, "are the more intense ones." "Shit!" Ian says, picking up one, holding it between both hands, it being bigger in circumference than both hands holding it thumbs-to-index fingers width. "You can fit this up a guy's ass?" "Eventually." Then, hinting, "They had to work it for quite a considerable amount of time to get it in me!" "Oh, I get it," Ian says, "you want me to work your ass?" he puts the tall buttplug back on the shelf. Suddenly they hear a big screech of pain escape Geoff's lips. "What the hell was that?!" Ian exclaims. Nonchalantly, Avraham says, "Oh, probably Bill dropped a weight attached to the parachute around Geoff's balls, but what about us?" For Ian, he was curious to see and walked back over to where Geoff was eagle-spread, responding, "Oh fuck, Geoff! Bill's gonna tear your balls clear off!" Equally amazed he was, watching Bill lower Geoff's arms. Walking a distance, he rolled something else over, `n-shaped', the top of the piece of wood opened, which he placed Geoff's neck and wrists. Ian thought, if Geoff had wanted to, he could have easily fought Bill off, subdued him easily with a few punches, but instead allowed his upper bod be put into bondage, the top of the wood brought down, locking his neck and wrists in. Avraham was entertained, responding to Ian's question of `what's next?', "If I'm not mistaken, Bill whipping Geoff has given him a raging hard on and he's about to do something about it?!" Suddenly, from bizarre, to showing his own lust, Ian licked his lips, seeing Bill holding his hard shaft and easing his way up in between Geoff's legs. "You know Bill can come three or four times in a row?" Avaraham questions Ian. Having had parties at his house, Bill never missing one, Ian responds, "Yeah I know. I don't know how he does it." More grabbing Ian's attention, he slowly walks around, from Geoff's bending top half, to his ass, feet still propped up on the floor. He witnesses Bill holding his cock within inches of Geoff's back door. "You want it boy?" "Yes, sir," Geoff replies. "Doesn't sound convincing enough, boy!" Bill picking up a foot and kicking the weight attached to the ball parachute choking Geoff's balls. "Ye-ek-k-ks-sir!" Geoff squeals out loudly. "Wow! You can take that Geoff?" Ian asks. Bill replies, "He'll take that and more." Snidely he turns to Ian, "How about you?" "Me?" Ian says innocently, a hand lying flatly against his chest, "Uh, no thanks. I like my balls. I'm interested in keeping them!" Feeling breath on the back of his neck, a bod up against the back of his shirt, Ian hears in his ear, "How about doing up `my' balls?" He didn't have anyplace to go, his front with up against the side of Geoff's bod, because Ian wanted to get a look at Bill's cock sliding in. No particular reason, other than it being horny, but for Ian the only other alternative was sliding out, which he did. Problem was, for Geoff, it temporarily made a kink in his knee, him losing his balance for all of a few seconds. A few seconds meant a lot for both fucker and fuckee, the ball hanging from Geoff's balls, swinging, it hitting Bill Basehart right in the shin! "Oh shit, Ian!" Bill blames. "Oh sorry!" Ian replies, more attuned to the ball pain, "Geoff, you okay?" "More than okay," Geoff replies. Because he could only see Geoff's face if he ran around to the other side of the stocks, Ian asks, "Are you sure you're okay Geoff?" In a jovial manner, Geoff replies, "Anytime you're up for torturing my balls, bring it on!" Ian tried protesting, "But I didn't mean to...." But Geoff should not have been his concern, Avraham pestering, "How about working my balls over too, Ian?" "I told you Mr. Weiss..." "Avraham." "Avraham, I'm not into all this `pain and gain' stuff. I only came here for Geoff's benefit." Bill, on `the inside' by now and working his hips forwards and backwards, calls over Geoff's bod, "Sorry Avraham. I guess my plan backfired!" "What plan, Bill?" Ian asks with annoyance, as he waltzes across the floor to where Bill is fucking Geoff, arms folding across his Hollister tee shirt and standing his ground. Bill jokes, "Dammit Ian! You look so fuckin' hot when you're mad!" he laughs. There was something between Bill and Ian, which nobody would dare to guess, even understand. All his life, Bill Basehart has been held up a `toughguy' image and true to his nature, everyone didn't give an inch to him being any different, especially since not keeping it a secret he liked to play rough, including sex. However, a different bond existed between himself and Ian, reason he never refused an invite, where others would shy away from, a ginger-headed, plump dork! Things were about to even up the score, Bill's sneaky plan to pair up Ian with the man who held the key to his room and board. "I don't think you're funny Bill!" With that, Ian makes a fist and plows it into Bill's lower, right back, punching his hard. It hurt Bill plenty, him losing his grip on Geoff's thighs, holding the back of his hand feeling up the impact from Ian's fist. However, it made Geoff sigh with such pleasure, Bill's cock ramming in deep and hard! "Oh my god, Ian!" Avraham stood there, both hands at the side of his head, jaw dropped open. "Fuck, Ian! I was only kidding!" Bill says, wincing with pain. Ian just made not only Bill, his cock experience a hot, tight fuck, but also Geoff an unhappy camper, grabbing Bill by the shoulder, pulling him away from Geoff's suspended ass, shouting, "Last time I'm saving your ass!" The last remark should have turned heads, but with all parties engaged sexually, Geoff, for his ass being vacated, Bill, his wet cock exposed to the cool dungeon air, Avraham, well he couldn't contain himself over the drama of Ian taking down Bill, manhandling him with force, having ripped the codpiece from his chaps and doing some serious j.o'ing! Walking right up to Ian, his juiced up cock hanging down, Bill confronts, "You promised never to mention `that' to anyone, Ian!" He was mad, but Ian also had a soft spot for Bill, because he was incredibly handsome, the hot bod to match and for a beefy cub to have a guy of this caliber as a friend, it struck him as worth keeping the bond between them secreted. Yet, he felt betrayed by Bill's scheme, "And so," looking around, because now he didn't care, "because saving your tail doesn't mean anything, Bill?" Leaving out some other things of importance, Ian felt between himself and Bill, more intimate. Stuff like Bill, after waking up in the hospital and being told `if it was not for Ian pulling you out of the wreck', he would have been reduced to burnt toast and Bill's experience after discharge and recovering at home, telling Ian, `If there's anything I could ever do for you...' Well, Ian wasn't about to ruin the most awesome experience of his life, having sex with Bill Basehart! So now, they just stood there, staring at each other. Mellowing out, the feeling of Geoff's ass wearing off his cock, his mind sharpening up, Bill says, "Ian, I'm sorry." "Yeah, me too Bill," Ian replies sarcastically, walking around Bill, heading for the stairs. "Oh!" Ian turns back to Bill, "Geoff said you got the info about the popsicle from TC?" Bill replies, "You know how TC hates tickle torture!" Things paused for a moment. Trying to save the situation, perhaps redeeming himself, Bill shouts out, "By the way Ian, Avraham has a `really well-stocked' refrigerator?" "What tha?" Avraham questions Bill. In a whisper, Bill replies, "I can't explain now. Go with it Avraham?'" It did make Ian's ears perk up, him retracing his steps, "What was that Bill?" He didn't pick up on it, Bill's sneaky con, based on what TC boasted about, and for Avraham's sake, "Yeah, I bet Avraham has fifty-seven flavors of ice cream and all the fixin's?" Going with it, Avraham, moving to `mate' with Ian across the floor, "Uh yeah, I know there's vanilla and chocolate?" Hands on hips, Ian confronts Avraham, "No pops?" "I'm not sure. I don't do the shopping." Ian asks, "What about chocolate syrup?" "I'm sure." "Whipped cream? Maraschino cherries? What about bananas?" Ian takes Avraham into the nest of his pit, arm over his shoulder, because their heights could just about match. "I'm sure I've got plenty," though Avraham didn't see the correlation, as Bill put it, like they were going to have sex, before or after dessert? % Spoken in true response to seeing the art work, on the wall of the studio above the Rinaldi's ten car garage, Barry exclaims, "Jef, this is remarkable!" "Sven was a sport and posed for it." "Really?" Barry said, almost with disgust, looking at the small cock! Overlooking it, "You did a good job." Coming over with a large pad and pencil box, Jef asks, "Hey Barry, can I do you?" `Do me?' Barry thought it over real quick, "Oh! You mean sketch me?" "Sure. What did you think I met?" Jef says with all seriousness. "Of course. Um, in the nude?" "Your clothes are out by the pool, if you want to go get them, but I like you the way you are?" Smiling, Barry says, "I like me the way I am too, but you..." "What about me?" Giving a tug at the board shorts, Barry says, "I think these are dry now?" With the wrong opinion, Jef asks, "You want to sketch me?" If it meant depantsing Jef, it's what Barry's lusty opinion was, him rendering, "Sure. I could try it." He didn't realize the implications, Jef standing up on a cube of wood, him with the sketch pad on a table, array of charcoal pencils strewn on the desk. "How do you want me, Barry?" If only Barry could relay his honest opinion! "You want to stand I take it?" "I can get another block of wood and sit or I can lay down on the bed?" "Bed?" Barry's eyes lit up. Thinking fast, Barry replies, "The bed might work good," adding rational thought, "You know, stretching all the nooks and crannies out?" `Nooks and crannies?' Jef thought. He never heard that before, but went with it. Lying down, he looked at himself, moving this way and that. "What are you doing?" Barry asks. "Stretching, so I can work out all the nooks and crannies." Barry laughed like it was a joke. "Only one or two places I'll never get ironed out." "Where's that?" Barry asks. "My wrinkled up balls for one place?" Jef asks, with such innocence! "How about I sketch you from the waist up?" Which Barry thought he could steal glances of the waist-down as well. "Okay. That's cool," Jef responds, closing up his legs. `Grr-r-r-r!' Barry thought, this time not in lust, but disappointment over Jef's compartment being sealed up. Then he has a brilliant idea, "Maybe I can sketch better if I sit on the bed?" Hopping out of the bed, his junk swinging about, Jef says, "No, the desk is on wheels. You can roll it over here!" `Grrr-r-r-r!' for the second time, Barry's plan foiled! However he went with it. He didn't know where to begin, so just drew a circle for the head, putting in eyes, a nose and smiley. "Yeah, this is coming along good!" If Barry's intentions were of drawing something like a Ron English character, he would have been coming close to perfection, but somehow, his improvisation, ears looking like Mickey Mouse ears, didn't cut it. In about four minutes he's ready to announce, "Almost done!" In five, "Here, take a look!" Turning the pad over to Jef, he turns over onto his stomach and studies it, coming up with, "This is not very good, Barry," said in a glum vocal rendering. The look on his face, partial melancholy, looking like he wanted it to be good, moved Barry, him saying, "I had a feeling. Maybe I shouldn't have rushed it so?" Trying to rectify things, Jef says, "You need practice." "Right," Barry shunned, "like the rest of my life!" Because he ended on a light note, smiling, Jef smiled too. Handing the pad back to Barry, Jef asks, "Barry?" "What?" "Do you think we can start being boyfriends and be into bed together?" Very accepting of the idea, Barry replies, "Sure. If you want to?" However, on his mind was not the words, `long term'. A guy like Jef was tough figuring out and he didn't have all the pieces of the puzzle to what would work or didn't work. "I'll move over," He got up from his bod stretch across the width of the full size bed. He jokes, as Barry gets `in', "Not much room for a bear and cub, huh?" "Which means we'll have to do some hugging!" Barry figured out. Right off the bat, the hugging commencing, trying to be kind in thoughts regarding Michael, his stomach and pecs touching a `real hefty man', Barry's shaft was swelling to the max. "Do you always get this hard?" Jef broke off their kissing to ask, his hand finding his bed partner stiff and bulging. In response, Barry's hand gravitated towards Jef's pubes, "Not any less than you?" "I was wondering something?" Jef shows reluctance. "What would that be, Jef?" "Do you think you might like to lick me?" Jef replies, not sure he wanted to imply, using the word, `suck!' For Barry, one thing would always lead to the other, like trying to separate bread from butter, licking would never work by itself, the tonguing starting out, but the lips taking over. Another partial part of the equation, Barry says, "It would depend on the person?" "Remember before, I said I `liked you,' Barry?" Barry did, adding his own meaning, "I felt something too?" All this was leading to more than talk, Barry taking over, getting up from the bed and since his hand had already encased Jef's thick shaft, he never let go until he had Jef flat out on his back, between the twenty-three year old's legs, kneeling and bending over, his eyes staring Jef in the eyes as he lowered his head. "You're gonna suck me? I thought..." "What?" Barry says, his slick lips about two inches from target. Bracing himself up on his elbows, Jef looks down his own hairy flesh, "I thought maybe it would be me, doing you?" Smiling, because at this moment, Barry could swing his gate either way, "Jef, what do you really want to do?" His tongue turned up in the corner of his mouth, Jef thought on it, finally giving in to decision, "I really want to touch your chest?" "Touch!" Barry said, taking the initiative to help Jef out, putting his hands around Jef's wrists and guiding the two palms to his own hairy pecs. "Next?" "Next?" Jef exclaims, following through and feeling up Barry's rounded pectorals. Placing himself as leader and for guidance, Barry asks, "Now what do you want?" The look on Jef's face spoke for him and sensing maybe he wanted it as much as Barry, he surrenders, "Do you think we can both..." he left it open-ended. Both got what they wanted, only each from a different perspective. For Barry, soon as turning counter clockwise and situated, lowering his cock and balls over Jef's face, he dove in and enjoyed some hot shaft for himself! % About forty-five minutes before they were seated at Rinaldi's, Thomas and Justin had finished up their sweet lovemaking, Thomas on his knees over Justin's split legs. In sync with each other, hands worked with wild excitement, bent on getting themselves off. Sometimes, without thinking, seeing Justin tweaking up one of his own nips, would alleviate the other hand, Thomas doing up them both, just so Justin could pleasure his chest-buds with both hands. When it became `time', it was too much for Thomas to handle, relinquishing Justin's stiff shaft. Justin questioned Thomas `getting close', because he shifted his weight on the bed to make his cock hover closer, for shooting range on the flesh. The bedroom was a flourish of sounds, the two expelling their man-substance in a burst of ejecting fluids, accompanied by a chorus of pleasuring `duetto' of sounds. It would have been an easy cleanup, all the milky mess landing on Justin's hairy stomach, but as often happens, the guy left in an upright position, so overwhelmed, as with Thomas, he bowled over, right on top of Justin, creaming them both! Before they even ordered, both putting their menu down, Justin had to agree with Thomas, "Yeah, it was the best time I've ever had!" "Me too," Thomas replies, picking up his menu. "How about a pizza with everything on it?" Not too crazy about anchovies, Justin replies, "Sure, but skip the sushi?" As Justin was thinking, Thomas replies, "Yeah, me too. Not too crazy about `minnows!'" Aldo Rinaldi had delivered them to their seats, however coming to take their order, it's Justin who says, "Davin? What are you doing here, working at Rinaldi's?" "Lost my job," is all he said, going right into, "So, have you decided on what you're getting?" Something wasn't right here, Justin handling the details, "What do you mean you lost you're job? You were fired?" "Uh, yeah, I suppose you can put it that way." Again, straying off subject, "The eggplant-chicken rollatini is the special of the day." He looked to Thomas, Justin not allowing the subject to drop, "Your dad, he runs the business, right?" Davin didn't wish to get into how his brother, Virgil, and he were loading the truck, casually talking and thinking their dad was in the barn, talked bout their `gay-selves'. Instead, Davin resorted to, "Virgil and me, we're kind of without a place to stay and..." Since they were already friends, Justin says, "Well, we've got plenty of rooms, Davin..." "I know," Davin replies. He did know, because he was landscaper to Justin's family home. Though, the way he said it, left something unsaid, him telling, "I was out there today. I wanted to ask about parking my truck in your lot. Adam said something about Frederic trying on clothes and `you' weren't available." Justin and Thomas `knew why', exchanging glances! "Sorry about that." Davin carries on, "I insisted on living out of my truck, but Adam said there was an extra bunk in his room. I hope I'm not getting Adam in any trouble, telling you?" "None," Justin replied. "It's a good idea, as long as you're comfortable with it?" "Fine and as soon as I can I will arrange for pay you something for room and board." Smiling, Justin jokes, which was something new for Thomas, making him smile, "Well that'll be $200 a week, plus $25 for every meal!" They had gone to school together, Davin, twenty years old and a year ahead of Justin, but they got along really well. Way before Davin even admitted it to Virgil, Justin knew he was gay and vice versa. Fact of the matter, Davin found it more comfortable if Justin was in his presence, when coming out. It's how he found out on the spot of not only Davin being gay, Virgil coming out as well. "I guess I'll have the eggplant," Thomas says, seeing the story wind down, as long as," since Justin was billing Davin for room and board, "Mr. Moneybags is paying!" As time went on, Davin checking up on them at the table with their meals, Justin and Thomas had talked it over, Justin being the spokesperson, "Say, if nothing is on your slate for tonight, Davin, you're welcome to accompany us to the Bear Garden?" Surprised, but why should Justin not be, Davin returning, "Thanks, but no thanks. Adam already invited me!" "That Adam does it again!" Sitting there, slowly sipping his glass of red wine, Thomas is just thinking about what entertaining stories lie ahead, all centered around the `infamous Adam!' % "I'm not very good at this, Barry." The two, all sweated up from playing tennis, rather fetching the ball more times than it making contact with the racket, the two lay out on the court, shading their eyes from the sun and breathing like crazy. From their friendly little session in bed, the two had rested for a few minutes, then decided, after getting the crud off their bods, head inside for a bite to eat. Passing the tennis court, two rackets made suggestion to play. Jef had already clued Barry into him not knowing anything much about playing tennis, other than hitting a ball around with a racket. Barry, one step ahead, knowing not only about hitting the ball, but score topping '21'. He said even if they made it to '10' it would be good enough. Neither were good enough, not scoring a single point per each. Too many times the ball would not even make it over the net, or a swing would yield the ball falling to the court, scott-free of getting smashed. When they arrived at the tennis court, they had swim suits on, some they found in dresser draws. Barry's was a little tight. Upon reaching a hand to behind his back, he discovers, "I thought so!" "Thought what?" Jef questions him. Laughing, he says, "Like I thought. This swimsuit, either my butt is too big for it, or it's two sizes small!" The way he could, tell, which he rolls over on his side and with a finger, inserts it into the tear! Feeling he can play a joke on Barry, while his attention is towards the bushes, he takes the seams of the swimsuit, tearing the opened portion wider, so Barry's hairy ass is way too visible! "What tha?" By the time Barry realizes what's happened, Jef is hightailing it towards the pool. "I'll get you my pretty!" he mimics the Wicked Witch of the West! Far ahead of him, Jef had cannonballed it into the pool. By the time his head had cleared the surface, his face was splattered with Barry's splash came in his wake. He was teased by the underwater activity, Barry's shimmery bod zipping through the water. Jef laughs, seeing Barry bottomless! "Now, how should I punish you?" "Um, make me look at another drawing you did?" "I wasn't `that' bad, was I?" "Would it make you feel better knowing you're a better cocksucker?" It did! Turning on the toothy smile, Barry replies, "Which part did you like best?" Same time, since Barry didn't have swim trunks on, he decides neither should Jef, weaseling him out of it! "Best, I liked..." he had a finger to lips, deciding. With independent thought, he stops to look down in the water, Barry having to dive-dive-dive, to lower depths, taking Jef's swimsuit with him. "Well?" Barry asks, surfacing, blowing his breath out, which water-sprayed Jef in the face. Jef proceeds to plane over his face with his hand. "Oh! Did I do that?" Barry jokes. "No, the wind did it!" Barry switches his head around, looking to the sky, "What wind?" "The wind from your bad breath!" "Okay. Now I know your punishment!" Barry says. Closing in, pushing Jef to the side of the pool, he punished Jef with lips and bad breath! "So that's where you two have gone to!" Thinking it was Michael, even though it was Sven's voice, Barry breaks off the kissing, "Where's that no-good-son-of-a-bitch-Michael?" A good hint, as Sven stood there, Barry notices four legs attached to four feet. "Anybody want some chocolate chip cookies?" Already at the side of the pool, Barry tried twice to heft his bod up on the edge, producing an epic fail each time. Swimming, then walking towards the ladder, he says, "I want `more' than chocolate chip cookies, mind you!" When Barry brushes by Sven, heading towards Michael and the plate of cookies, slowly backing up, Michael yells, "Sven, protect me!" "Protect yourself!" Sven yells out, laughing his ass off. "Oh, I forgot!" Barry snaps his fingers. He forgot that Sven was in on this little matchmaking scheme. Facing his brother, Jef lounging in the pool, lifting a beer bottle to take a sip, it was Sven's last drink from that bottle, Barry ripping it out of his hand, tossing it into the pool, then making Sven `go get it!' "Now, my little cupcake!" Barry turns towards Michael. Thinking about Sven and beer bottle, Michael thinks about the five-piled-high cookies, looking around to set them on something, other than the patio apron. "Would it help if I apologized?" "I doubt it," Barry said with conviction. Not which Michael would mind it very much, "How about kiss your ass?" He wouldn't hurt a hair on anyone's head, but might do something to the beautiful hair pattern of Michael's bod! "Nah, don't bother. I wouldn't want those no-good, lyin', good-for-nothin' lips touching a single part of this bod! In fact..." Michael stopped. With Barry a foot away, there was nowhere else to go, almost pinned up against the lifeguard chair. All he had to offer was, "Cookie?" which included a smile, while emanating from his cute face, could possibly steal a heart. "No," Barry replies, "you have'm all to yourself!" Michael stood there, a look of wondering on his face. What was Barry up to? Was he going to get his balls bashed in or just a pool-dunking. "Believe it or not," Barry says, "I forgive you!" With saying so, Barry takes Michael in his arms, Michael calling out, "Oh my god!" As he cuddled up his front to Michael, one of Barry's hands pushed up on the bottom of the plate. The whole platter of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies tipped towards Michael's chest. Fresh, meant they were still chewy and warm. "Hey! Anybody want a cookie?" Barry yells, picking part of one off of Michael's chest. "Hey! They're really scrumptious-dilly-icious!" "Me! Me! Me!" Jef yells, running from the pool exit to where Barry and Michael stand, his hands above his head, waving. Not knowing what to say, never having a plate of warm, chocolate chip cookies squashed to the front of his bod, he just stood there. After all, if this was the one and only punishment for staging the meetup between Barry and Jef, it wasn't at all punishing compared to what he thought was going to happen to his balls! "Hey! These are good!" Jef helps himself, since Barry was, taking a remnant from Michael's stomach. "Try one?" Barry asks, picking a quarter of a cookie off Michael's right pec. "No thanks," Michael said in a less than happy mood. "Oh look!" Barry looked towards Michael's left pec, "A chocolate chip!" There was a spot of chocolate, but no defined chip, but Barry made it seem so, giving Michael's nip a tweak! "Owch!" he brushed Barry's hand away. "That was no chip! That was my nip and you know it!" Jef pulled the same. Before Michael could think about it, Jef is yelling, "Another chip!" "Owch! Jef you idiot!" Michael bawled him out. "I'm not an idiot!" Jef yells back, but reacts with seriousness towards the name-calling. "Now look what you gone and did. You hurt the kid's feelings!" Watching Jef make a beeline for the entrance to the pool, running across the tennis courts towards the garage studio, Sven addresses Barry, "What did you do to my brother?" "Me? Nothing. It's Michael who called him an `idiot!'" Barry's words didn't sit with Sven too well, very protective of his brother! Running over, catching up to Jef, Barry explained, "Michael didn't really mean it, Jef. He was just being a schmuck!" In the middle of the tennis court, the two had a nice little kissing session, Jef saying afterwards, "Want to play some tennis?" However, Barry opts out for, "In a few hours I'll have to head down to the Bear Garden. Why don't we do some relaxing? Weren't we going to get something to eat? I think I need something more than some chocolate chip cookies!" In the car, on the way to where else, but the place who heralded the best pizza in town, Rinaldi's, "It's going to be a while before I forget what my brother and Michael did," Jef says, in a grumpy manner. Barry says, "I probably won't either, but you know what?" From staring out the truck window, keying his attention towards Barry, "What?" "I'm sort of glad." "How come? They were deceitful." "Because if they didn't do what they did, I won't have an artist for a new boyfriend!" "We're boyfriends? Really, Barry?" "Really, really!" Barry replies, thinking he's sounding kind of corny, but there was nothing strange or weird about the hot cub sitting in the front seat next to him! % Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee `BeaR GaRDeN' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.