Date: Fri, 14 Dec 2007 19:57:58 -0800 (PST) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: Adventures In Nature 05 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" 05 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % "Who was that on the phone?" Steve asks, fixing his Monday morning outfitting of school clothes. "Agnes. Of course she gets the news before it's `in print'. She said to act surprised when the superintendent calls me to tell me this will be the last day we'll be holding classes at the college." "Hallelujah!" Steve belts out. "You're telling me. It'll sure feel good to be `back home'," Barry states, with a sense of relief and joy. Downstairs, in the kitchen, the announcement also gave Max a break, as he said, "You mean I get to sleep an hour later?" "I know it's been hard on you and I thank you for your dedication," Barry tells the twenty-two year old chef and `bottle-washer'. Steve suggests, knowing he's wasting his breath, "I wish you would allow us to fatten your paycheck." "No, no," Max replies, "it's only an hour a day. It hasn't bent me too much out of shape." When it came up, the issue of having to get up an hour earlier to get everyone out of the house, for the lengthier trip across the region, Max fended off any additional pay, so it was needless for Steve to mention it, other than to assure Max he was worth more than money could buy! "Mark, are you and Jose being boyfriends?" Philip asks. "Um," Mark looks at the dads, a fork-stabbed sausage in limbo, "we're friends, okay?" Steve taps the side of his shoe against Barry's shoe, under the table. Little did Mark know, the dads had been looking out the window, when the two lingered between the seats of the Mustang, for a kiss, before driving Jose home last night after dinner. "He's a cool guy," Aidan says. "He showed us a lot of cool stuff on the computer, to help us with our project." "You know what he said?" Philip asks the family group. "What?" Steve answers on behalf of all. "Jose says he can get a lot of people to help us with our project!" Eric voices his opinion, "That's Jose! Always with his hand in doing something good." "Right," Tom agrees, "you should see him at the `mud cleanup project'. We told him to take a break with us guys, but no, he had to keep working." "They call `them' workaholics," Barry mentions, with a chuckle. "Yeah, well that's Jose," Eric says. "Too bad Mark had to steal him away from me, before I had the chance!" "You had your chance," Mark quips. "He's in the same grade as you." "Yeah, but not in any of my classes," Eric answers. "Well, he prefers older men anyway," Mark rationalizes. "Big deal. You're a year older than Jose!" Seeing he had no chance, Eric rests his case, "Still, if you guys stick it out, Jose could wind up `in the family'." Barry kids, "I wouldn't mind having Jose for a son-in-law." "I guess you guys like Jose as much as I do, huh?" Mark asks. Steve speaks up, saying, "No, I think `you' like Jose much more than any of us!" Good thing Philip and Aidan wanted to catch a show on Tv, with Mark already stating he and Jose were `just friends'. % Even though he wasn't due to punch the time clock for another hour, Kev, caught up with his drawing assignment, wanders through the back passages of Barr's & Bridges. Sensing Tom's vacant office, no light shining through the vents at the bottom of the door, he lets himself in. Using the light from the hallway, he turns on the gooseneck light sitting on his brother's desk. The spring-loaded door closes, just as his ass drops into the swivel chair. "Playing store manager, are we?" "Oh, hi Ethan," Kev replies, noticing his shirt tail hanging out, Ethan's shirt unbuttoned to the third eyelet. Sweat clinging to Ethan's hairy chest, is a dead giveaway he's been hauling freight off the loading dock. "Hi yourself. Alright if I take a breather in here?" "Sure. I don't mind. Where else can you get 100% air conditioning, but the boss' office?" the nineteen year old comments sarcastically. "Well, I know you know for a fact how hot the stockroom can get with the back door slid open." Then going for the box of tissues Ethan asks, "Mind if I dry off a little?" "Help yourself." "Thanks," Ethan replies, tearing four tissues out of the box. "Looks like you've worked up quite a sweat," Kev says, to stir up the conversation, even though it's plain to see the patches of sweat lining Ethan's armpits of his shirt, plus the additional tissues used to blot around the forehead, neck and then chest area. "More charcoal?" "It's gotta be at least a hundred degrees out there," Ethan says, pulling the left side of his shirt open to dab at his sweaty bod. "...and no. This time it's sacks of potatoes for all that potato salad folks are going to be devouring on the fourth." As the tissue pile in front of Ethan mounts, Kev asks, "You know there's a better way to beat the sweat?" "Oh?" Ethan questions, going for his twentieth-something tissue. "C'mon. I'll show you." Leading Ethan back to the stockroom, they serpentine their way around pallets, til they reach a bin next to the jon. Opening it, he takes out a plastic bag labeled, `ice'. "This is a way better idea of how to keep cool. Here, try it!" Kev says, tearing a small hole in the bag, taking out one cube. Giggling, Kev clues him in, "Now you'll just make your shirt wetter. Take it off, then rub the ice cube over you, Ethan." Taking a seat on the side of one of the pallets of potatoes, Kev watches as Ethan unbuttons the soiled white shirt, peeling it back over his shoulders. `Feeling' Kev's eyes on his bod, right through the layers of sweat, Ethan asks, "Hard yet?" To counter Ethan's joke, Kev slips a hand from his thigh to his crotch, reporting, "Solid as a rock!" "Figures," Ethan replies. "Here... hang this somewhere!" Totally surprised, Kev yells out, "Heeey.. what tha?" as Ethan's sweat-soaked shirt lands over his head. Pulling it off, he shakes out his hair, planing it back with his hand. "Whatsamatter, Kev? Manscent doesn't turn you on?" "Yeah, but there's a difference between a manscent on a shirt, versus a stinking bod," Kev replies, on the sly. "Ohhhhhh... now that hurt!" Ethan exclaims, followed by a smile as he's already coated his pecs and stomach with the cool ice. "Um, mind getting my back?" "Oh, I don't mind, but what about Tom?" Kev replies, hopping off the pallet of potatoes. "What about Tom?" Ethan asks, interested the conversation has led in this direction. "I dunno." Then, point blank Kev asks, "What about him and you?" "Us? How do you mean that?" "Nice position to be in, employee shackin' up with the boss!" He meant it to be funny, but it didn't strike Ethan in the same manner, as he collectively replied, "Um, thanks for the ice cube idea, but I better get back to work. There's mountains of goods to get out to the floor." Snatching up his shirt, Ethan fed his arms back into it, as Kev asks, holding an ice cube, "What about your back?" "I think one stabbing is all I can take for one day!" "Stabbing?" Kev says to himself, as water trickles down his arm. Then, `getting it,' Kev hustles after his fellow stocker, calling out, "Ethan, wait a minute... it's not how I meant it!" Jacking up a pallet, "Oh really? I would say you made yourself perfectly clear, Kev. Excuse me." Plastering his back to the wall, Kev watches his feet, his toes turned inward, as Ethan rolls the pallet within inches of clipping his sneakers. "I swear, Ethan. I didn't mean anything by what I said. It was a joke," Kev pleaded, as he paraded behind the pallet of potatoes, leaning his hands on it, to help taxi it across the floor. "Can't say I care for your humor.... watch the doors," Ethan warns, as he rolls the pallet through the springy double doors. It made Kev feel even worse, Ethan forewarning him, about the pallet and now the swinging doors, which could probably knock a man down on his ass, if body-slapped, which Kev didn't refute he deserved! "Want me to page Adam or Robbie?" Kev offered, as the two waited at the area of transition between stockroom and salesfloor. "Adam quit. Robbie will be along. He's showing the new guy around. Oh, here he comes now," Ethan emptied the mouthful of words, his attention on the aisle, where two guys walked towards them. "Hey, Kev," Robbie, twenty years old, greeted him. "Say hello to Josh." "How's it goin'?" Josh replies, flaunting a toothy smile in Kev's direction, offering a handshake. "Um, good," Kev replies, smiling, then withdrawing it, a sour feeling returning after what he said to Ethan. Ethan breaks in, "Tom wants these stacked under the glass, in the front, Robbie." "No sweat," the college football frat responds, commandeering the pallet jack. "Want me to..." Josh goes to suggest hauling it. "Nah, you watch. Maybe tomorrow we can turn you loose on the store," Robbie says, the quarterback hauling ass, with the slighest of ease. "I guess it pays to be involved in sports!" Kev comments, a light note of humor added, as he follows Ethan back into the stockroom. Ignoring Kev, Ethan moves a box of canned tomatoes, from atop another case, to a shelf, to free up some walking space. Sliding the next carton off the top, Kev picks it off and hands it to Ethan, saving him some steps. "I can do this," Ethan says. "I don't mind helping." "You're not on the clock yet." "So?" With three cases to go, Kev sits on the top carton, folding his arms across his chest. "C'mon, Kev. Stop playing games. Move your ass. I don't have any time to kill," Ethan complains, all business like. "Not until you accept my apology, Ethan." More sweated up than before, Ethan's whole shirt seems as if he was doused by a bucket of water, his head all drippy, as he wipes his brow with his sleeve. "Can't we tackle this later? I'm on a roll here," Ethan replies, with elevated breathing. "You only took a five minute break. You have ten minutes coming to you," Kev made excuse for him. "I don't care about the fuckin' ten minutes, alright?" Ethan projects, more adamantly. Still molded to the pile of cartons, Kev says, "Look, the truth is, I'm glad Tom has finally met a guy." "You are, are you?" Ethan says, standing ther impatiently. "Well sure. I mean, up until now it's been..." Kev didn't want to say it, but Ethan completed his thought with, "one night stands?" "He told you?" Kev asks, dropping his hands to his sides, grasping the corners of the case of canned goods he was sitting on. "Y'know, your brother and I spent a good part of Sunday morning in bed together and it wasn't all sex?" Kev waited, sure more was to follow. "In fact, except for a little oral, we mostly kissed. But that's not why I'm telling you this." With his sweaty shirt and the returning coolness of the stockroom, Ethan's hard nips showed through, as he elaborated, "I don't go for the fly-by-night love affairs. I was honest with Tom, telling him like it is. Y'know, as I see it, it's not only Tom who has had this protective aura over his brother. I think, where you're concerned, it's gone both ways." "Well sure," Kev states, "what do you want? He's my brother and only living relative. What else did he tell you about me?" "Plenty." Then, backing down, temporarily resting against a pallet of potatoes, Ethan says, "I suppose I got a little over-heated a few minutes ago." Standing up straight, unleashing his tush from the pallet of potatoes, he continues, "To be frank, I really like Tom and would like to see where it goes, but if I'm going to have to answer to you everytime we go somewhere or do things, then it's going to make life pretty difficult. I understand you and Tom had `words' not too long ago, when you dated John Torkelson?" "He told you about that too?" "Like I said. We cuddled in bed. We got to talking... got to know each other," Ethan explained. Seeing Ethan was probably going to stick around and become more a part of his brother's life, Kev started to feel differently towards him. "Look, I'm really sorry about what I said. I'm glad we had this talk. I can see you aren't like the other guys. I...." Pivoting his shoulders forwards, then back, Ethan tells him, "I think that just about covers everything." Then, sticking out his palm, Ethan adds, "Maybe we can clear the slate and start over again?" "You got it!" Kev replies. "One other thing," Ethan says, his sweaty hand still clutched in Kev's hand. Thinking this could turn the tide back to their indifferences, Kev is skeptical, asking, "What?" Grinning, Ethan replies, "Maybe you can sketch me sometime?" "Is there anything Tom `didn't' tell you?" Peering down between Kev's legs, Ethan, in a wiseass manner says, "Size?" % "What time is it there, babe?" Rolling over, Matt separates his bod from Tony, opening up a valley between, his neck twisted so he can view the Disney-themed alarm clock. "Um, Mickey says it's nine fifteen. We've got... owch!" "Whatsamatter, Matthew?" Tony gasps, as Matt turns his head back, slapping their stomach's together. "Prolly just a muscle spasm or something. It'll pass." "Nothin' doin'... turn over," Tony orders. Planting the side of his face in the pillow, Matt flops over onto his stomach, as Tony rises up on his knees. Throwing a leg over, he mounts his roommate, slapping his cock and balls down on the lower portion of the swimmer's v-shaped back. He leans over, massaging Matt's shoulders. "How does that feel?" "Prolly would feel a helluva lot better if you sat lower!" The two exchanged glances, Matt offering a toothy grin, as Tony says, "Oh really? So, when was the last time you were fucked?" "Oh, it's gotta be at least a week," Matt replies, coolly. Being a gay man, Tony wasn't exempt from the temptations of his hardening cock wanting to see more action. However, for the record, Tony wasn't into `hit-and-run'. "Well you can stop hinting because you know where I stand on that matter." "Oomph!" Matt grunted when Tony slapped both hands down on his shoulder blades, using the leverage to pivot his bod up and off the bed. "What about my aching back?" "I thought it was your neck? Or maybe your ass?" "Never mind," Matt relinquished the whole deal. "How about a shower, then?" "Yeah okay. I could go for that," Tony says, putting on a pair of boxer shorts. Matt grabs the dry speedo he wore yesterday and jumped into it in a matter of seconds, letting it snap against the place where pubes meets treasure trail. Tony tosses him a towel and they are on their way out the door. "Hey, guys," Tony says, as Matt just takes in the view of Kirk Donegal and Jason Dalbec, passing in the hallway, like them, stripped from the waist up. "Second time I've seen them together," Matt starts up the bit of gossip. "Really? Don't tell me the dorm cumdump has finally decided to stick to one flavor!" They both laughed at Tony's joke. "Wouldn't mind it myself. I kind of dig Italian seed," Matt hinted, right before they pushed the door to the fourth floor jon open. "That a fact? Well you can forget it. I might've let you drain my balls last night, but I'm not into..." "I know... I know... you're looking for Mr. Right, instead of Mr. Rightnow," Matt casts off the conversation. "Looks like we lucked out. A free shower stall," Tony says, walking past an occupied one. Matt, paused, leaning his ear in, hearing sounds coming from the occupied shower compartment. Once inside their shower stall, door closed, Matt whispers, "Sounds like a fuckin' orgy going on in there!" "Will you come on, Matthew? Coach will have our asses if we're late," Tony relays, not caring who hears it. Tony turns on the water, as Matt gets turned on by the groaning sounds next door. Taking the side of Tony's head in his hand, he pulls Tony's ear towards his lips. "What tha fu..." "Shhh... Bend down. Let me get on your shoulders. I gotta see this!" "I am `not'..." Gazing upon Matt's face, he could see he wasn't going to budge until he had his way. "What the heck!" Placing his hands on the wall, Tony squats down. Matt flings his legs over Tony's shoulders, crushing his cock and balls up against the back of his neck. "At least I'm getting `something' out of this!" Tony says to himself. "Ready?" Ready or not, Tony walks his hands up the wall, as he lifts Matt. "Going up!" Thinking he's being discreet about spying, Matt leans back a little, in case some guy is looking up. He sees a stripped guy, sitting, leaning against the wall, a second sucking him off, a third with his cock planted in the cocksucker's ass. All three are intent on what they're doing, so Matt leans in a bit more. Tony can only guess the hot scene going on, feeling something stabbing him in the back of his neck! Too late Matt is discovered, as he pushes backwards, almost knocking Tony over. "What the fuck you doing?" Tony says. "I think they saw me!" Matt exclaims. Sure enough, from the other side they hear, "I think we've got company." Another voice says, "So what?" The first guy, "Maybe they want to get in on the action?" "What about it?" Matt asks Tony, stroking his already swollen 8c. "If you want to let coach down, fine then. Go ahead, but I'm going to be on time." "It'll prolly only take a second," Matt says, obvious that his crotch is ruling his decision. "Whateva," Tony replies. >From outside, he hears Matt yell, "Open up! Let me in, guys!" Tony rolls his eyes, as he soaps up his bod. Then, his curiosity gets the best of him. Taking the bar of soap, he drops it right at the bottom of the open partition. Down on his hands and knees, he looks under, eyes focusing right on the guy looking at the bar of soap. "Oops! Dropped the soap!" Tony says, as he cases the inside of the shower booth next door, seeing two guys getting blow jobs, Matt on the receiving end of one of the bare studs. "Tony Gagliardi?" "That's me. Who are you?" With mouth still attached to his shaft, the guy leans over, extending his right hand, saying, "Evan Colfax. I've been following your swimming stats." "Really? A fan of the swim team?" Tony says. In between their chat, Evan is sighing and moaning, interjecting, "Yeah. One of my favorite sports. Hot to see guys in those tiny speedos, if you know what I mean?" "Like Matt here?" "He's a swimmer too?" "Right now he is, but if we don't get a move on it, he's going to accel at being a glorified cocksucker!" Tony tells Evan, whom laughs along. "Hear that Jim?" "I hear ya," Jim Faulkner says, as Evan takes Matt's skull in his hands, pumping his shaft furiously in and out of his purses lips. "Almost ready to blow my load too... see you around Tony." "Sure," Tony replies, still on his knees, soap in one hand, his hard erection in the other, as he watches the tops go at it, til they cry out in ecstasy. Standing up, Tony works his own tool, ropes of cum still going down the drain, as he bolts out of the shower stall. % Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.