Date: Sat, 15 Aug 2009 23:02:22 -0700 (PDT)
From: resq merman <merman_resq@yahoo.com>
Subject: Responders chapter sixteen

Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction.
Certain characters are based loosely on people known
to the author, other similarities to actual persons,
places, and events are purely coincidental. This story
also includes graphic homosexual acts, some by minors.
If this material offends you or is illegal in your
area please stop now. The name Aquatic Rescue Response
has been used with permission of Aquatic Rescue
Response of Maine. Thank you.



Chapter Sixteen: A Little Fun Before Bed

It had been raining off and on all day, so by mid evening there was a
slight chill in the air.

HEY BABE! Bring in another armload of wood will you?!?

Luke was fussing over the embers of a fire he was attempting to light in
the giant flagstone fireplace in the living room of his and Brads' beach
front house. Try as he might, he never really seemed to be able to get a
fire going.

Need some help with that?

Luke looked up at the sound of Brad's voice to see the other young man
coming through the doorway, load of wood under one arm, glass of whiskey on
the rocks in the other hand. Setting the wood in the barrel next to the
fireplace, Brad passed Luke the can of beer he had also somehow carried in.

How about you work on this, and leave the fire to a professional?

TSSH!!!

Professional? You're not going to hire someone just to light the fire, are
you?

Brad smiled. Luke got up off the floor, nudging Brad playfully in the
process, and got out of the way. In moments Brad had the fire starting in
on a nice gentle roar. Brad got up, grabbed his glass, and moved to the
couch where Luke had sprawled himself out in one corner. Looking down at
Luke, he smirked.

What?

And just where am I supposed to sit?

Oh, anywhere that suits your fancy...

Luke coyly gazed up at Brad, who cocked his head to one side, placed his
half finished drink on the end table, and dove onto Luke and the
unsuspecting couch.

OH! Shit! Warn me next time!

Brad only laughed as he positioned himself so he was straddling Luke's
lower body; then planted a fervent, passionate kiss firmly on Luke's soft
moist lips. Their tongues danced together, in and out of each other's
mouths, hands groping up and down the other's muscled frame, until finally
breaking the lip lock, both men in need of air.

Yuck! Whiskey breath!

HA! Better than that horse-piss you're drinking!

Yeah, but mine's cheaper. And your fire needs attention.

He was right, in the few short moments of their couch wrestling; the fire
had burnt down to mostly coals. Grunting in disgust for having to let go of
Luke, Brad climbed off his lover and turned to tend the fireplace. He had
no more then bent over to add the last of the three logs he was planning on
putting in when he felt Luke's hands on his hips. From behind, the pressure
of Luke's body against his increased, Luke leaned across Brad's back as if
to whisper lovingly into his ear.

You might want to put that log in the fire before you drop it on my toes.

How romantic!

Brad placed the log in with the others which were already beginning to
catch fire, adding a dull orange glow to the room. He stood slightly,
grabbed Luke's hands with his opposite hand, and lightly kicked back;
sweeping Luke off his feet, spinning, and landing them both almost gently
on the carpeted floor. As Brad leaned in for a kiss, Luke pushed up, rolled
Brad over, and pounced on him, pinning both his hands above his head. Luke
bent and placed his lips against Brad's just in time to feel Brad shift
beneath him. Brad's left leg came up on Luke's right side, caught his
shoulder and flipped him backward. Again Luke was flat on his back, with
Brad on top. This time there was no intervening martial arts and Brad's
kiss found its home on Luke's lips. The two men heatedly rolled around as
they embraced and started kissing each other in places other then the
lips. Brad moved down Luke's neck, pulled the collar of his t-shirt down to
kiss the
 top of his chest, then reached down with both hands, and effortlessly
removed Luke's shirt in one motion, exposing the rippling muscles under a
sheath of smooth skin. Brad started to pull off his own shirt as Luke's
fingers attacked the buckle of Brad's belt. His shirt off, Brad resumed his
zealous kissing assault upon Luke's chest. His shorts soon found themselves
with the two t-shirts, discarded on the floor nearby, his balls and hard-on
exposed to the evening air. It wasn't long before a sheen of mingled sweat
and saliva coated Luke's upper body. Having given each hardening nipple a
gentle nibble; causing Luke to gasp and wriggle with pleasure beneath him;
Brad moved lower, tracing his tongue down the path made by the bulges of
Luke's abs, a quick circle around the navel, then lower still. His hands
caressing Luke's chest and flanks, Brad used his teeth to undo the button
and zipper on Luke's shorts, freeing the growing erection
 throbbing behind the wall of fabric. The head of Luke's penis wasn't in
the open long, eagerly Brad inhaled it. Working his lips up and down the
swelling rod, Brad slid Luke's shorts off, throwing them to the side with
the rest of their clothing. Releasing Luke's manhood from his mouth, Brad
sucked briefly on each testicle while stroking the shaft of satin over
steel. Lifting Luke by his legs, Brad positioned himself, slicked Luke's
hole and his own beautiful cock with a handful of saliva, and pressed
tenderly into his lover.

OH! Brad! That feels so good!

Gasping, Pete came up for air, not a half second later, John surfaced next
to him. At the same time as Brad and Luke were giving an eyeful to the deer
mount on their living room wall; John and Pete were in the Nueclo's pool,
seeing how long they could stay under water ``Buddy-breathing'',
essentially kissing under water to share air between the two of them. So
far they had managed a respectable five minutes, what they had not managed,
however, was to hide the fact the both boys were becoming aroused. An
obvious tent was standing out in the front of each pair of swim
trunks. Despite the heated water in the pool, both boys shivered at about
the same time.

Maybe we should go up to your room, and finish what you started...

What I started? Hum... Ok, Maybe I did, ha! Come on, let's go!

They both dove under the water and swam toward the shallow end. Rather then
using the stairs, both boys swam right up to the wall and pushing off the
bottom, sprang up onto the patio around the pool.

Woo! It's cool out here! Race you upstairs!

You better dry off first! Mama will kill you if you run through the house
all wet! And don't wake my sister; we'll never get rid of her at this hour!

Quietly laughing and joking around, the boys hastily dried off, wrapped
themselves with their towels, stripped off their trunks, hung them on the
drying line, then ran up to Pete's room. As soon as the door shut behind
them, the boys dropped their towels. Naked hips touching, they hung the
towels on the back of the door. They turned to face each other, the head of
each penis brushing into the ball sack of the other. Hands touched flesh,
abs met abs, chest met chest, and finally tender wanting lips met tender
wanting lips. Their arms encircled as the embrace grew stronger, their
tongues battling, lust for the other growing to a burn. They stumbled to
the bed, careful not to make too much noise, side by side they fell to the
soft cushioned surface. Rolling back and forth, neither boy gaining the
upper hand, they kissed, caressed, stroked, and fondled each
other. Eventually on top, John slid his hands down Pete's sides, and then
sat up, straddling
 Pete's thighs. Taking both rock solid tools in one hand, he braced the
other hand on Pete's chest, then began stroking, slowly gaining speed until
pre-cum glistened on both heads. Pete reached to the nightstand, eased the
draw open, retrieved a condom, which he quickly unwrapped and sheathed his
throbbing manhood. John spit into his hand then roughly grabbed Pete's
latex-coated-love-muscle, smearing the makeshift lubricant from tip to ball
sack. As Pete squirmed under him from the pleasure, John looked down and
whispered in the brief moment that Pete opened his eyes.

Ready?

Pete's response was silent: an ear to ear smile and a nod of his
head. Another handful of his own spit lubricated the already moist pucker
of John's ass. He moved up, placed himself over Pete's fleshy missile, and
sat. Between the spit lube and the many times the boys had pleasured each
other, John's body readily accepted Pete's intrusion, the two becoming
one. Pete sat up part way and John leaned down; they kissed lightly,
parted; that was when John started using his ass to work Pete's cock for
their mutual enjoyment. Riding Pete like this, John felt exhilarated. Both
in control, and at the mercy of Pete's swollen weapon at the same time. The
moaning rose until they were both panting. Pete opened his eyes again,
looked up at John, smiled, and just before jetting loose in John's ass,
whispered to his lover.

On my chest, baby!

SPLAT!!

His load shot all over the bowl and bottom of the seat. Nick Stevens opened
his eyes to see the mess he'd made.

Shit!

He said, under his breath. Then grabbed a wad of toilet paper, wiped the
head of his dick; he quivered with pleasure at the over stimulation of the
nerves; then proceeded to wipe up his spunk from the porcelain
surfaces. Flushing the evidence, he turned to the mirror to make sure he
didn't look like he'd been beating off. It was something that he had done
since his early teens; it calmed him whenever he had felt himself being
overtaken by things around him. Satisfied, he eased the door open; tiptoed
past the doorway to the living room, where his stepfather sat asleep in his
recliner, TV dinner tray still in front of him; poked his head into the
still lit kitchen, saw his mother still up peeling potatoes to make a
potato salad for her husbands lunch the following day.

Mother, you should go lay down, those potatoes will still be there in the
morning.

She looked up at him with sad eyes.

My Nicholas...

What's the matter, mother? Did he hit you again?

My sweet Nicholas, a tired old woman is none of your concern, leave it
be...

Leave it be? Mother, how can I leave it be when he keeps doing it? That's
twice now in one week.

It's just his way, he doesn't know any better, and he doesn't mean anything
by it.

But...

No buts. You should get some rest, busy day tomorrow.

Yes, mother. Good night.

Nick's shoulders sank; he loved his mother, but hated the verbal and
sometimes physical abuse his stepfather subjected her to. He leaned down
and lightly kissed her on the cheek.

Good night, my Nicholas, sleep well.

Stepping softly to his room, Nick closed the door and made sure it latched.

Sleep well, my ass! Busy day, for sure! And I can't even tell her that I'll
never see her again after tonight.

He thought to himself. As soon as he had been released, Nick started
working on the preparations Kevin had instructed him on. The others were
ready; it was all up to Nick now to make sure things went off without a
hitch tomorrow at the court house. He sat on the edge of his bed, sighed,
pulled his shirt off, stood just enough to get his jeans off. The task at
hand weighed heavily on Nicks mind; on the up side, if all goes well he'd
be in the Caribbean by the night after next. He sighed again, turned out
the light and crawled under the covers. Shortly he fell into a fitful
sleep, one hand over his face, the other wrapped tightly around his
re-hardening dick.



Thank you for reading at least this far. This has is
my first story I have been confident enough of to post
online. Feedback and comments are welcome, however if
you feel the need to flame I will, as the firefighter
I am, assume that you are on fire and take appropriate
action comenserate with my training. Also, I apologize
to those of you reading this story from outside the
United States. Depending on your country of origin, I
may or may not reply to your comments for security
reasons. Thank you again. Merman_Resq@yahoo.com