Date: Thu, 15 May 2008 18:41:09 -0700 (PDT) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: Adventures in Nature 19 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. % "Adventures In Nature" 19 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % Sometime during the dark hours, Barry turned over, awakening. His arm searched the other side of the bed, Steve turning up 'missing.' "Steve, you in the jon?" When no answer came back at him, Barry got up, tripped over a shoe and then found his robe hanging over a chair. Opening the door to their bungalow, he descended the three steps which led to the wood-paneled hallway. "Oh, there you are." "Hi dad," Philip said. Aidan, elbow on the table, raised his palm to signal 'hello'. "So what's the hot chocolate pow-wow for?" he asked, the question up for grabs. Steve, his elbow keeping his head from caving in, was perched on the table top. Barry noticing the droopy lids says, "Up to bed, Steve." "Thanks," He replied, getting up with a deep yawn. "So, all the excitement have you guys wide awake?" He guessed. Aidan replied for both, "How long before the sun comes up?" Eyeballing the clock, Barry estimates, "Ohhh I'd say about three hours." "Dad, is Denis like crazy?" Barry could see that buffing up the center of the town square with flowers wasn't the only thing on the boys' minds. Adding to Philip's query, Aidan says, "Last time we saw him he looked normal." "Eric and Tom says he a sicko," Philip concluded their thoughts. "Sicko, nor crazy are ways to define neither Denis nor anybody else's problem stemming from depression," Barry tried defining. "Do you think we'll get it too?" Aidan asks. "It's not a sickness like catching cold. It's more an inbalance. You see, these juices are running in and out of different parts of your body. Since the brain controls everything, if some of these juices are not feeding the brain it can make us feel unlike our normal selves." "How come Denis wants to kill himself?" Philip dives deeper into his step-brother's ailment. Being the wee hours of the morning, plus the fact Barry wasn't a doctor of psychology, he simply put it to them, "I don't think Denis really wants to kill himself. I'm not an authority on all this but when `the juices' are not getting to a person's brain they experience wants and desires not part of their normal self." He waited for the two to think it over, also noticing they looked tired, ready to return to their rooms. "Tell you what. If you two have any other questions about this we can arrange to have Sean and Jacques over for dinner. I'm sure Jacques would not mind you asking about all this. How does that sound?" "I haven't seen my brother in a looooong time," Aidan said of Sean. "Well he's been very busy with college," Barry replied, but it lodged in his mind the same thing, even though he knows Steve has received calls and messages on his cell phone from time to time. After yawning, Philip says, "C'mon Ai, I think I can fall asleep." "And if you have any problem boys," Barry suggests, "just lie in bed and talk softly. At least your bodies will get some rest." Both thanked their dad for talking with them. Picking up the two mugs of hot chocolate, Barry chugged down the remnants of one, then the other. Entering the bungalow, he stripped out of his bathrobe. "Oh yeah. Much better without!" "I thought you were so tired you couldn't stay awake, Steve?" "I was. Until I started dreaming about running into a bear in a forest!" % Yawning, Riley Sanchez stretched out far and wide across the bed. Not looking, his left hand felt up the space next to him, bunching up the other pillow in his big hand. Rising, he looked out the side window facing the barn. With the barn door open he gathered Juan was either tending to the horses or had taken an early morning ride. Juggling around his cock and balls, he yawned for the second time, his privates making him smile from the nice sex they had last night. It's the first time ever he caught himself whistling a happy tune while shooting last night's beer down the toilet. Upbeat he sang some words to the whistled tune while showering. "Somebody's in a good mood!" "Hmm," Riley said as Juan pulled back the shower curtain, "you been out riding bareback?" he questioned Juan in the buff. Stepping over the shower wall, Juan makes comment, "Only last night!" "Well don't let our little secret get around, huh?" With his hand he told Juan to twirl around. Himself all soaped up, he began massaging Juan's back, suds appearing instantly. "Phewy! You smell like horse shit!" "It's what horses usually do, don't they?" "Two points," Riley replied. However regardless of the odor emanating from Juan's bod, Riley enclosed him in his arms, his head situated on the nineteen year old's shoulder, semi-soft cock locked against Juan's ass crevice, his hands exploring the wet trail leading down yonder. "Um, don't forget you're on duty this morning?" As Juan slid around in Riley's arms, he responded, "Yeah. Playing traffic cop to three hundred elementary school kids!" "I thought you liked kids?" "I like you," Riley jokes, his face breaking into a smile. "I'm nine years younger than you. Hardly makes me your son," Juan replied. "Hey!" Riley replied as Juan forced his bod up against Riley making him back-step under the showerhead. But it wasn't only his bod he was slapping against Riley, as he grabbed him up in his arms, both lip-locking. Juan stayed plastered to Riley, moaning as he felt a big hand around his cock, Riley matching up his `hard one' alongside. "I can't believe you're a bottom." It killed the soothing action for a moment, Riley stating adamantly, "I'm `not' a bottom!" "I love watching you get angry!" Juan giggled. "I'm only a bottom 2% of the time," he reinforced his position. "Two? And I thought you were really enjoying having me deep inside you last night?" Juan put it to him. He stood there for a moment, pondering his answer. It's been strange for Riley, as devout as a Catholic, he also stood by his guns over the years when it came to what position he held in bed. For the first time in his life he was in discussion on the subject of falling from the topsail. "Okay. 10%, but that's as far as I'm going." "Oh really? And what percent of that ten can be accounted for when you licked my shaft til it was as hard as a rock and then sunk your lips over the top til the head hit your tonsils?" "I don't have any tonsils. I had them out when I was eight year old," Riley replied, by now his hands on his hips, the stance of a cop, but without the clothes. "Like I said. You're cute when you're mad. C'mon. If we don't hurry those kids will be crossing the street without you." Turning off the water, Juan lead the way out of the shower. "Think fast!" he shouted when tossing Riley a towel. It was pretty much silent as they toweled down their bods, Riley still in deep thought about all this top and bottom business. "Look," Juan interrupted his thoughts, "if it's bugging you...." "Nothing's bugging me," Riley tried hiding what Juan had already guessed bugged him. "What we do in our bed is nobody's business but our own, but if it comes up, you can just say I'm versatile," Juan put it as he placed a foot on the tub wall to dry in between his legs. "You're right. It isn't anybody else's business but ours," Riley simply stated, pondering whether he would use Juan's way of putting who was the `inserter'. Toweling off Riley's shoulders where he missed soaking up the raindrops, Juan says, "Besides, we're just getting started here, finding out what I like - what you like. Who knows? Things could change." As Juan headed out of the jon, Riley questioned, feeling up his sagging meat, "You mean maybe tonight you can find out how big I am?" "No." Riley's attitude dropped a foot. "Maybe you'll get tired of having me around. Maybe you'll...." "Do me a favor Juan?" "What?" Juan replied. "Shut up and get ready before we're late for the kiddies?" Out of the corner of his eye, as he put on his briefs then dark, navy blue pants, Riley watched Juan get dressed in front of the mirror. He smiled as Juan made a smile, picking something from his tooth. Smiling, he thought of himself, a year younger than Juan, being just as vain. But really what stopped him in the middle of buckling his belt is when Juan picked up his brush off the dresser. He didn't have much hair to speak of, almost a buzz cut. Fascinated, he stood there watching Juan smooth the combing implement from midchest, down his stomach, over his navel and stop at the rim of his white CK's. "What is it you are doing may I ask?" he inquired after walking the distance to the dresser and stood behind him. "Oh this you mean?" Juan replied, this time brushing from the waistline, up. "Yeah," Riley replied, a look to Juan's stomach, chest, then face. "Nothing really. You see I started to get this stripe down my stomach when I was seventeen. As it grew in, I wondered how different it would be going up or going down." "Up or down?" Riley questioned, same time thinking how absurd. "Yeah," Juan answered, once again swiping the brush down over his tummy trail, "down", then up, "or up? The hair kind of lays a little different going up," he swept up, "then down. Which do you think looks better?" For the life of him Riley could not distinquish which way was better, stomach trail brushed upwards or downwards. "To me? Does it matter?" It wasn't the answer Juan was looking for. In a fit of mischief he quickly looked upon Riley's dark chest of fur, took the brush and ground it in, grazing over his left pec. "Oh shit!" Riley called out, backing away. He took up his left pectoral in his hand and zeroed in on his nip, fingers of his other hand unearthing his nip from the forest of his chest hair. On the other hand, Juan was laughing his ass off. "Feel good?" he joked. "No!" Riley replied in an angered manner, but not really angry. "Look how red you made it!" "Get out of town," Juan told him. "Your nips are always pinkish anyway." Then he suggests, "Kiss and make it better?" However, Juan didn't wait for a reply. Instead he cocked his neck and licked right over the hairy nip. "Oh shit, stop it before you make me hard?" Riley replied, really wanting it to go on. "You're right. We should be getting ready." Walking towards the closet, Juan left Riley in his dust. Grabbing one of the cowboy-looking shirts, he fed his hand into the sleeve. "Well? You going to stand there all day and stare at yourself in the mirror?" Juan accused Riley. % "Hey!" "Is Kev... oh... I thought you were the doctor," Tom Letterli spoke up to Ethan, standing there in his stockboy outfit, except for the tie dangling from his open shirt. "Have you heard anything about Kev?" He asked, heartfeltly concerned. "Not a peep. Ethan, I'm getting worried." Down on one knee, as if proposing, Ethan says, "Now, now. Let's not jump to any conclusions. When they brought him in you said the doctor reported Kev was undergoing surgery. It could've taken a lot of time." "I suppose," Tom replied in a solemn mood. "Then it takes time for recovery," he snuck his arm around Tom's back, cupping his other shoulder in his hand, Tom's shoulder to his chest. "I guess." "Besides. It's early in the morning. The hospital doesn't wake up til nine o'clock," Ethan put it a little more cheery. "Yeah," Tom replied, finally lifting his head from staring at his lap, to Ethan's smile. "You're right. Ethan?" "What?" Returning the hug, over the arm of the chair, Tom says, "I don't know what I'd do without you." Ethan simply put it, "It's nice to feel wanted. Hey look, I've got to get to the store before the boys and girls wonder where I am." After exchanging a kiss, Ethan rises, departing with, "Hey, you give me a call if you hear anything." "Okay," Tom replied. After Ethan left, Tom sat there for the longest time, three minutes seeming like an hour. He glanced around when low, nighttime lighting gave way to brightening up the white walls of the hospital. Looking at his watch, it read eight o'clock. Getting up, he stretched his legs, placing his hands together like praying and straightened them out in front of him. on a Yoga stance. Taking a few steps forwards, he noticed a young guy, possibly college age, hanging around the nurse's station. Nobody was about. The guy seemed to be awfully secretative, a finger disturbing some folders in an upright rack on the desk. Keyed in to the only action on the floor, he saw the guy turn around, display an Eskridge Community College team jacket, what team he didn't know, but not as important as the husky fellow finding one particular folder interesting. Turning back around, there was a smile on his face as he replaced the folder in the bin, making sure it was properly mixed in. "Oh... hi," he said to Tom, noticing he had been under surveillance. "Hi," Tom replied. The lad volunteered, "My friend is someplace here and I thought I'd look him up." "I take it you found him?" Tom replied. "Yeah. Well my mom was a nurse and I kind of `know' what to look for." "Oh really?" Tom said, closing in on the guy. Two feet away, he inquired, "Maybe you can help me out with finding somebody I know?" "I don't know... I...." "Tom Letterli," he stuck out his hand to the college sports jock. "My brother Kev was in surgery last night and I...." "Oh then his file wouldn't be with these. It should be...." the guy looked around before bending `way over' the counter. "Oh by the way," he handed Tom his hand, "Tony Gagliardi. Here you go." Before Tom fingered through the bunch Tony handed him, he said, "You're the fellow who found my brother." "Right. Now I know where I met you. Yeah. It was kind of dark and all the questioning by the cops. Yeah, I remember seeing you at the scene, but I didn't know Kev was `your' brother or you...." Before Tony could finish his sentence he was bear-hugged. "I owe you a lot, Tony. If you hadn't found Kev who knows what would have happened to him." They hugged for a little time. After breaking, Tony took the folder squashed between them, saying, "Here. Let me take a look at that for you." "Anything?" Tom asks hurriedly. "Doesn't tell much," Tony replied. "In surgery, out of surgery, but not much else." He placed the rest on the counter. Tony understood as Tom snatched the folder away from him. As Tom checked out the folder, Tony checked out Tom, the wide shoulders, the dark chest hair, prominent against the white shirt with two buttons unfastened. He skipped over the folder blocking Tom's stomach, his eyes making a dash for the crotch area. "Excuse me?" "Oh yeah," Tony replied, realizing Tom was done with his search, handing him back the folder. He also wondered if Tom saw him checking out his lower half. "So, are you here to visit your boyfriend or friend?" "Sorry," Tony said, turning a slight hue of red. "What for?" Tom asked. "Yeah, okay. You snagged me," Tony fessed up to. "I guess since you're not beating me to a pulp you like... `understand'?" Putting his glum mood aside, Tom says, "Forget about it." "If I can do anything for you," Tony says suggestively. "Sorry," Tom cut him off. "I appreciate your concern. I sort of have a boyfriend. I thought maybe you did too." "Oh, Denis you mean?" Tony replied. "Is that who you were looking up?" "Yeah. He's kind of having a problem with himself. I think it's depression." Referring back to Kev's file, "Sorry there wasn't anything about your brother." Throwing both hands up in the air, palms slapping against his thighs, Tom looked like a man giving up hope. "Oh man I can't believe this is happening to us. You always think it happens to the other guy until it hits home. They took him into surgery last night and I haven't heard a peep." Thinking Denis could wait for an hour, Tony stole a second glance through Kev's folder, saying, "Sorry I can't help you. At least if your brother was in surgery most likely he would be in ICU." "Just what I figured," Tom said, wiping a hand over his brow as if it was a hundred and ten degrees in the hospital lobby. "Say, I haven't had anything to eat this morning. How about a cup of coffee?" Tony offers, feeling for him as he places his palm against Tom's shoulder. "Might not be a bad idea at that." Over a cup of coffee, Tony listened while Tom poured out almost the whole saga of himself growing up with Kev, their parents' passing, Kev falling into the wrong crowd, drugs, arrested for drunk driving, literally bailing him out of falling head over heels into the downward spire of life. "I thought all that had changed, moving out here from the city. I figured the country would be good for him. I set him up in college and I... I thought he was doing alright, then all this had to come about." Tony sensed Tom blaming himself. "What happened to Kev is not your fault. The papers said Kev wasn't the only victim." Tom looked up from stirring his coffee the spoon on its eightieth revolution, "The papers?" "Yeah. The morning paper. Your brother made the front page." Almost knocking his coffee over, Tom's elbows took up the table ledge in front of him as he rubbed his eyes. "If you're worried about his picture being in there... `nada'. They show only the road leading to the environmental center. They don't even show the place I found him." Again Tom became overwhelmed with Tony finding Kev. Reaching across the table, Tom grabbed up both of Tony's hands, held them, reiterated, "I'll never be able to repay you for saving Kev's life." Through the night Tony lost a lot of sleep, one of the thoughts running over and over, `what if he hadn't almost stumbled upon Kev's body'. Being a humble guy, he replied, "If it wasn't me, it would have been someone else." But as they gazed in each others eyes, both knew the truth, Tony not saying it, Tom thinking it. % As if they had slept soundly through the night, Philip and Aidan were the first ones up, bustling around the kitchen, helping Max do breakfast setup. "Um guys?" The two looked up at Max. "Bacon and eggs?" "Oh!" The two said simultaneously, exhanging cereal bowls for plates. "So what time do you have to be in town?" Max inquired even though he had the morning schedule down pat. "Ms. Duffy is going to be there early but she said us kids need to be there by nine," Philip said. "And how long is this event supposed to last?" Not meaning it sassy, Aidan replies, "Who knows how long it takes to plant plants!" "Good answer," Max replied, mostly meant for himself. "What's for breakfast?" Mark asks, entering the kitchen with Jose. Both in boxer shorts, Philip and Aidan flash a look at each other. Reading the situation, Mark informs them, "Jose slept in my room and I slept on the sofa." "We didn't say anything!" Aidan replied. Jose laughed when Mark said, "You didn't have to. It was written all over your faces, ya little squirts!" Then a conversation ensued, Philip and Aidan arguing the point they weren't `little' anymore and they weren't `squirts', Aidan at least fending for himself, throwing the blame of the nickname back onto his twelve year old brother. "I don't have to know the gritty details," Jose said to Aidan's statement about telling how the word `squirt' became woven into the Clark-Barr vocabulary. Philip and Jose exchanged smiles, a quiet `thanks' from Philip for sparing him the unknown embarrassment. "Hey Mark, do you think Denis will mind if we borrow his other football?" Eric asks, straddling the kitchen bench. "You got a game going?" Mark asks. "Tom, you playing?" he asks his step-bro. As he thought, Tom replies, "Nah. I'm helping Penny," his girlfriend, "plant flowers." "Cool!" Aidan replies. Philip adds, "I like Penny." "Not as much as I do, I hope," Tom comments. "You know I'm not into girls," Philip tells him. "Me neither," Aidan goes along with, wrinkling up his nose like somebody offered him liver for breakfast. "You guys are only twelve year old," Jose interjects, "and you know you're gay?" "Thirteen," Aidan sets the record straight, turning it around, asking, "How old were you when you knew, Jose?" "Me?" Jose stalled, thinking of how he was about to each his own words. "Um, about ten?" Even Eric and Tom had a good laugh. "We miss anything?" Barry said as he and Steve entered the fray of laughter. "Nope!" Philip returned the favor to Jose. "Must be meant for the under twenty crowd," Steve observes, leaving themselves, the two-late thirties guys out. "Ahem!" Max, the only twenty-something guy in the room, voices his opinion of Steve's statement. Before anyone else could make comment, the back door slams with a bang. "Got any extra?" Diego asks, already going for the extra room at the table. Seth explains, "Our dads over slept!" As Steve says, "What a time for Freddie," their cook, "to be on vacation," as Barry remarks on the sly, "I dunno Max, we got any `extra'?" "Always!" he quips. "There he goes again!" Philip said, adding laughter to the other boys around his age. In split-second timing, Max had the eggs out, cracking, breaking them into a bowl with one hand as his other hand whisked them up. % "Oh how I hate to get up in the morning!" Maury sang out, stretching both arms out to his side. "Oh, sorry `bout that!" He said to the bedfellow next to him. There Josh Crew lay naked, his arms above his head, his dark hairy armpits against his white skin, almost pronounced as the hair on his chest. "Oh, did I forget to untie you?" "These cuffs are almost strangling my wrists," he complained. "Oh really?" Maury replied, turning over on his side, propping his head up on one hand, his other hand grazing over Josh's hairy pecs. "Ohhhhh," Josh `complained', his nips hardening up as he felt a chill come over his bod. As Maury slid his hand down the defined trail dividing Josh's abs, he mentions, "It's always fun interrogating you." "Best part being when you tie me to the bed with my legs up?" Josh replies. "Yeah. I love working over your tight little ass!" More sighing and moaning comes over the detective as Maury's finger finds the tight little hole he fucked with his big tool last night. "Don't stop!" Josh says when Maury exits his finger. His hand caressing Josh's balls, Maury inquires, "So you think about exploring deeper?" He adds a little squeeze. "Ouch... Ohhh...Oh.. I'm not sure." Releasing the over-sized orbs, he says as his hand massages Josh's hardening cock, "This is really the only answer I need!" For now Maury forgets about the cbt, falls over onto Josh and massages his lips with his, his hands busy above Josh's head, untying the ropes linking the leather cuffs to the headboard. % Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.