Date: Thu, 16 Jul 2009 04:59:29 -0700 (PDT) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: GeTTiNG ReaDY FoR CoLLeGe 04 The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection. GeTTiNG ReaDY FoR CoLLeGe 04 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % "Fucking bitch!" "Was that Bryan on the phone?" "No," Tony answers Ferran. "That was `Jay' `Miller'." Ferran's bod language dictated to Tony he didn't make the connection. "Miller like in `Miller Travel'?" Getting it, Ferran relays, "Oh yeah. You mentioned you were getting a good deal because Jay's `rents own the travel agency you..." "Well the son-of-a-bitch informs me... us, the trip to Aruba is off!" "What? But like you've been planning this since..." "I know, I know," Tony replies in a dismal tone. Then, "Oh fuck! What the hell are we gonna do now?" "Um, I take it you're getting your money back, bro?" "Of course we're getting our money back, but.. hell, do you know how tough it is to get reservations in the islands during spring break?" "Um, no," Ferran replies. And as he sees Tony put clothes on, "Going somewhere?" "Yeah. I gotta get with the guys and find out what we're gonna do!" He was still half-feeding his arms into his shirt, the tee still up and over a shoulder, covering half of his hairy pecs and Tony had his keys in his hand. And as Tony booked out the front door, Ferran asks, "But what about supper? You said you and me were going to..." "Call out!" Tony shouted as he got in his jeep and backed out the driveway. It seemed like such a lonely world after Tony left. For Ferran there wasn't much other than getting ready for spring break, his first college event before he even got there! Lying down in bed he reached over, almost falling out to retrieve the basketball, tossing the orange globe up in the air and catching it. Slowly his mind turned from thinking of the balll jumping out of his hands and catching it, to letting it tap himself on the stomach. He giggled to himself when he let the basketball sit there on his stomach, trying to balance it, it rolling away from him, hitting the obstacle between his legs. Giggling, he says to himself, "Mmmm, felt good!" Placing it on his stomach, it rolls over his teen treasure trail again. "Hmm, I could get to like this!" With each roll over his deep bellyhole, each encounter with his soft 9c, it didn't stay soft long! He tried `thinking' his way out of achieving a hard-on, "Is this all I've got to do?" Then his former resting place for Tony's old basketball started to gurgle. "Call out!" he shouted out and he headed for the kitchen. "Yuck!" he said of the cold pizza lying in the box on the kitchen table, after he lifted the lid. He thought of Rico. He thought of Rico eyeing up his brother's ass. He thought of him and Rico making fun of Tony's ass. He laughed out loud, but soon discovered two things. One, he was naked. Two, he was doing something he accused Tony of, walking around the house in the buff. He didn't care. He figured it was all a part of getting ready for college and read the phone number off the box as he dialed it into the phone. "Just the person I'm looking for. Hey dude," he spoke into the phone to Rico, "guess what I was doing?" After a second he replies, "No-o-o I wasn't fucking Tony. Tony's gone out." And he knew he would get mixed reaction about this, but it was meant as a joke anyway, "I was lying in bed, bouncing my basketball off my stomach and it rolled into my cock and felt good. Wanna come over and try it?" And after a surprising remark, "Cool! Bring some pizza with ya!" % "What do you mean Rico didn't the deliver the pizza to Pezzolo because he stopped in next door for a cumshooting contest?" It was mid afternoon on a Saturday and like Saturday nights, after Gianni and Andres split the pizzeria, the night crew came in, something Andres thought up and Gianni praised him for because they didn't get stuck there late cleaning up! Instead, the two had a chance to spend one and half days of the weekend together. As the routine goes, after the two walk in the door, Gianni almost always says, "How about we have `Chinese' tonight?" Sometimes it's `Thai', but in any case it's something Asian. And as is `always' the case, Andres gives the same old response, but never worn out, "How about you have me tonight?" As it goes, Gianni lets out a cat's snarl, grabs his crotch like Michael Jackson and replies, "Mmmmmm..." By this time Andres has Gianni up against the wall in the foyer of their house, Andres unbuttoning each button of his spaghetti sauce-splotched white shirt. The shirt is not spread wide, only enough for Andres' tongue to get a sampling of Gianni's sweat-soaked-dried, sweet, hairy chest. But just as Andres' hands divide the white fabric at the top of the beltline, his tongue ready to dart into Gianni's sweet, deep bellyhole, the phone rings! Right next to him, on the small foyer table, is the phone. "Hello?" Gianni's hand lifts it to his ear. Looking up from his knees, Andres' hands are on his torso, his butt sagging to his heels. He follows the conversation as best he can. "146 you say?" And cupping his hand over the phone when the pizzeria night crewman tells him to hold on, Gianni looks down at his waiting lover and reports, "It's Danny. He says Rico got an order for 146 Walnut." "So?" Andres questions him, caring less about where a pizza is delivered, more interested in his own palate. "So? 146. Get it? Next to 148? Next to Pezzolo's house. Place where Rico shot his load across the room?" Yanking Gianni's arm down, Andres grabs the phone out of his hand, says, "Goodbye!" and slams it down on the table. "What're you doing?" "Granting Rico his freedom is what I'm doing!" Andres replies as he gets up off his knees. "But..." "Look Gianni, Rico is eighteen now. He's his own man. He should be able to come and go as he pleases," Andres replies in a rather eye-awakening manner on Gianni's behalf. "I realize that but..." Then in compromising, Andres presses his bod up against Gianni, Gianni's back to the wall as he relates, "You've done a very good job in raising Rico. Don't you think it's time to cut the strings?" He had a sadsack look on his face, but Gianni does focus on the fact Rico is a high school grad and will be off on his own, something he knew he would always have to come to grips over, but was having a tough time doing. "He's all I've got!" Years ago when they first met, Andres knew right away the strong bonds Gianni and his `little' brother had, how Gianni picked up where their parents left off when they passed on in an untimely death. And knowing how tough this last year of high school was going to be on Gianni, thinking of Rico going off into the world on his own, Andres knew he would need to stand by his man even more, with the support and love he needed. "He's all you got? What about me?" "Oh yeah. There's you, but..." And as he pressured Gianni's crotch with his own, "What'samatter? My ass getting too loosened up for you?" "No..." With his hands invading the insides of Gianni's shirt, "Getting tired of my tongue feeling up all this luscious fur?" Left in his ballpark, Gianni realizes what's been said and renders, "You gonna finish what you started or what?" Andres sunk to his knees and started unbuckling Gianni's belt! % A little more conservative than his brother, Ferran showed up at the door with his gym shorts on. "You are like so over-dressed!" Rico said, handing Ferran the box of pizza. As he followed Ferran into the kitchen, Rico helped himself to removing his shirt as he jabbered away, "I asked Andres about going to Aruba and he said no problem. It's better if he hits Gianni up for the loot rather than me and..." "The trip is off!" "What? But I had so many plans for us!" "Plans?" It was Ferran hearing it for the first time. "For us?" "Yeah. You know, finding some secluded beach, a couple of hot guys our age..." "This is spring break for college dudes, dah Rico?" "Okay, so there wouldn't be any guys our age. So we'll pick up a coupla college boys and just think!" "What?" "Don't you see?" "All I see Rico are these little fishies. Didn't I tell you..." "Uh-oh. This is not my pizza!" "Obviously dude." "Scrape it off." "It's still going to taste fishy." "Where's the basketball?" It was the diversion Rico needed and it worked! "Upstairs. Cool! You want to see me drop-roll it?" Climbing the stairs to Ferran's room Rico was thinking of whether it was at all possible to expand on his friend's drop-roll technique. "Here we are!" Ferran says, dropping his hands to his sides and waiting. "Uh, right," Rico replies. After a few seconds of pondering, the two break their trance when it's said, "I guess I should... get ready." "Sure, um me too," Ferran replies. And it's like earlier in the day all over again, Rico's eyes affixed to Ferran's lower bod, Ferran watching Rico reach over his shoulder and hike his tee shirt, left ringed around his neck, over his head. "You can keep going," Rico says of Ferran's stall. "I like saw you before already?" His thumbs still lodged in the elastic of his gym shorts, Ferran reports, "Just waiting for you to catch up. That's all dude!" Rico had heard this sometime during one of his brother's evening bedtime encounters with Andres, so tried it out, "You're a sly one!" "Am I now? Then what's taking you so long to play `catch up'?" With it said, Rico tosses his shirt on the computer desk chair and standing on one foot removes his untied sneaker. He goes for the other one. "You're so slow man," Ferran says, a sign of his impatience. After ditching the other, Rico uses another brotherly tactic, "I could use some help?" Standing there, hands on his hips, he juts his stomach out a little bit, the focus put on his thin teen treasure trail leading to his belt buckle. "Um, okay," Ferran says, skeptical of handling another man's attire around the waist. And as Ferran unbuckles Rico's belt, he's coaching him, "Right and when you get it all undone... that's it... pull it through the loops." "Through the loops? Like can't you drop your pants now?" "I saw Gianni do it to Andres once." "You were spying on them?" Ferran accused. Admitting it, it drew a smile across Rico's lips, "Yeah. It was hot too!" Giving Rico a smirk, Ferran continued the strip job, taking the belt buckle and giving a hefty pull. "He-e-e-e-e-ey!" Rico cried out. As if a string of a playtoy, the belt made Rico `unwind', turning him about, his bod twirling in a circle. Losing his footing he fell against Ferran. In an `armchair' position, Ferran's arms caught his friend, Rico's back up against his chest and in a split second the two were on the floor. Rico lay on his back, Ferran directly underneath, Ferran complaining, "I think you're cutting off the circulation, dude." Half-joking, by the way he felt something poking at his ass, Rico replies, "Doesn't feel that way to me!" But he got up anyway and as soon as he did, Ferran's hidden stick stuck up straight to the ceiling. "You're like..." he gulped, "really big, you know?" And giving hint to Rico, still in his jeans, "I wonder how big you are?" Ferran didn't move, kept lying there on the floor in a relaxed position, hands behind his head, waiting for his friend to either say something or make his move. An almost evil smile creased Rico's lips as he rose to the occasion. Sarcastically, as he unbuttoned his jeans and took on the little flat handling of his zipper he says, "I hope I am giving you a good enough view?" "Fine from where I am!" It was the beginning of definition - leader or follower, catcher or pitcher, top or bottom, it went unnamed as their actions spoke louder than words. Where Ferran was concerned, as Rico put on a striptease show, his hand ventured down, across the top of his navel and dove under the elastic of his gym shorts. He smiled briefly thinking how his big brother knew better and how he took advice and didn't apply any briefs before donning his shorts earlier. Yet he immediately refocused when Rico asks, "Like the show?" Adamant, putting on airs, Ferran replies, "I'll like it more when I can see what's filling those briefs up!" Without further ado Rico pushes his tightie-whities down. Ferran smiles. Rico smiles and continues, taking one leg out, then the other. He stands up straight and takes his cock in his hand, just holding it there. "What do you think?" "You've got nice balls," Ferran meant `big', "too!" Then another wordless interval of time began as Rico dropped his eyesight from Ferran's face to his lower bod. But not only this, he wanted to see what Ferran's hand was doing. Falling to his knees, Rico's knees straddled his friend's legs. Reaching over he took hold of Ferran's gym shorts and gave a little tug. Taking it as a hint, Ferran removed his hand, sliding it out over his stomach. He looked down when he felt a little wetness and saw a moist streak adhere to his flat abs. Rico saw it too, but instead of saying something about it, replied, "You're not wearing any briefs?" He thinks his brother, Tony, said this, "Makes it easier when you're in a hurry!" Putting the suggestion in Rico's head, what Ferran thought, was something Rico was already thinking. In fact, backing up a few minutes, when Rico had looked down at his friend's package he had gotten the urge to `taste'. Strangely he never considered himself the sort, to lust after the `wanting' or `tasting' of what a man had between his legs. Now with the mention of it, a signal, like given the `go ahead', Rico peeled Ferran's briefs down towards his toes. As for Ferran, it seemed like the natural thing to do, press his palms against the carpet and raise his butt upwards and like they've practiced it to perfection, the gym shorts coming off without a hitch. Instinctively, Rico never had done it before, he tossed the shorts aside and lowered his shoulders, his elbows to the sides of Ferran's thighs. He felt he had to ask, "Alright if I..." His face almost in Ferran's pubes was enough of a hint. He lay there, putting his hands behind his head, like expecting it all along, Ferran encouraging, yet leaving room for question, "If you want to?" Even though before, pacing up the stairway, Rico didn't have an idea of how it was going to go. For sure he thought he would be the one in Ferran's position, but it's strange how things turn out, how the tables turn, how what was perceived is all changed and for Rico, the idea of him bowed down over his friend right now, his shoulders leaning towards Ferran's upper thighs, his mouth readying to open, to accept, he wasn't sure about all of this, but pursued, "Here goes!" Ferran was in awe too, his jaw dropped open, his mind filled with wonder as he watched Rico's mouth open. And when the final moment came, Rico looking up at Ferran, he smiled. It didn't last though as Ferran felt Rico's wet mouth encompass the head of his teen cock. "Ooooooooh-myyyyyyyy-Gaaaaaa...." "You like it?" Rico pops off with a slurp. "Don't stop, dude!" Rico giggled. Now he was feeling excited by both Ferran's reaction and his own obsession, to get back on with it! % Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee This story 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.....