Date: Fri, 22 Sep 2006 08:14:40 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: NATURE COUNTRY 25

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, nor governmental areas,
which the story is stages. If a sexual scene involving
male-to-male relationships offences 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. This is fiction. Use protection, in real
life.

"Nature Country" 25
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%
Next morning, the sun woke everyone, with a vengeance.


"Ahhhhhhh, Saturday!"

Sitting up, stretching his arms far out, to the east
and west, flaunting his bear pits, Barry felt
invigorated. Looking to his right, he spotted his
lover, cuddling up to the pillow, still in a deep
sleep. As if a pet, he softly petted Steve's hair,
pushing it back, out of his face. He noticed Steve had
a smile on his face.

"That dream better have `me' in it!"

Laughing to himself, Barry headed to the jon, for his
morning whiz.

"Ooooooooooh! Damn Steve, you scared the shit outta
me!"

"I didn't think I was `that' ugly!"

He then placed both arms around his mate, kissing him
on the neck.

"If I piss on the wall, you're cleaning it up."

"For you, my love, I'd clean it up with my tongue!"

Ever though the reference was a perverted thought,
Barry caught the symbolism, but he also wanted to play
a little bit with Steve.

"Still got a little left here, if you want it?"

Barry laughed, but when Steve broke his arms away from
around his bod, stopping his thumb from rubbing one of
his nips, he knew he had gone too far. Steve stood
there, looking at him.

"Forget it, Steve. I only meant it as a joke, okay? So
don't get any ideas. Excuse me."

Barry gently pushed by him, heading for the sink.

"Can't I at least try it?"

"No."

Barry did an about face, opened the shower stall and
turned on the hot water.

"But I've always wanted to try it," Steve whimpered.

Standing there, with his hands on his hips, Barry knew
Steve like the back of his hand. He would not quit,
until he got his way.

"Okay, Steve, but a little slurp. That's it!" Barry
signified the finality of it, moving his hands as if
an umpire called the batter `safe'.

"Cool!"

As giddy as a teenager, getting something he wants,
real bad, Steve sunk to the shaggy rug on the jon
floor. He looked at Barry's cock.

"Are you sure you got some in there?"

"I guess. I squeezed it out. I think I got most of it
out. You're not going to get much of a taste, Steve.
Believe me."

Actually, Barry was real glad of the fact. In his own
mind, as much as he wanted Steve to `like' his first
taste of cock, after pissing, he was glad there wasn't
much to offer.

"If you're gonna do it, do it Steve. You know how
Bernice gets when we're late for the nature walk."

"I know... I know..."

Barry stood there, looking, watching Steve feel up his
cock, look at it.

"Yup, still some in there," Steve said, rubbing some
residue between his fingers.

"Steve, you going to do it?"

"Nah."

Even though it struck him as good, Barry sighed,
snickering.

"Well Steve, I'm glad you decided to grow up."

"Grow up? That has nothing to do with it."

Barry admitted he had used the wrong choice of words
and apologized.

"You're right, Steve. I'm real sorry. I suppose little
boys with their toys, like Riley Sanchez, will always
be around!"

Entering the shower stall, all steamy, he held the
door for Steve.

"You coming?"

"I don't know."

Stepping out of the stall, his entire body looked wet
from the steam.

"What's wrong now, Steve?"

"Nothing."

Knowing how this was going to go, Steve acting like an
eight year old, Barry new he would have to pry the
information out of him. This time, as he entered the
shower stall, he dragged Steve in with him, by the
arm.

"You had my cock right there, Steve. How come you
didn't take a taste?"

"I didn't want it."

"Bullshit! You wanted to taste my piss and you know
it, so don't give me that bullcrap!"

Even with the warm water cascading over the two, Steve
managed to show signs of embarrasment.

"Am I right?" Barry noticed.

"Yeah. Okay. I don't know how you sense stuff like
that."

"Steve, we've been shacked up for two years. Don't you
think I `should' notice things like this?"

"I suppose."

Handing Steve the bar of soap, he starting soaping
Barry up.

"So, when do I get my next chance?"

With his back facing Steve, Barry just grinned. Like
he said, he could read Steve pretty well.

%

Whistling a happy tune, Michael Byrd swabbed the main
counter, around patrons. Even though he wore a watch,
he glanced at the standard `diner' clock that hung on
the wall, above the kitchen door. Shaking his head, he
wondered where the hell Christian's ass was.

"Hey, Birdy, what's up?"

"Nothin'!"

Zach Roberts could see something irked him.

"Want to talk about it," he asked, before ordering a
coffee to go.

"Oh nothing... only that..." Michael waited.

Not sure whether to spell out his employee's
direliction of duty, especially since part of the
hiring process came by way of recommendation of the
person he now chatted with, he stuttered!

"Where's Christian? I thought I'd say a quick hello."

Michael remained silent. Zach knew something was up.

"This about Christian?"

Still Michael remained silent. In a way, even though
he was pissed about Christian's no-call-no-show, his
heart was telling him he shouldn't complain about him.


"$1.25," Michael replied.

"I know how much the damn cup of coffee is!"

Zach dealt two bucks out of his wallet. Silence
prevailed, except the clinking of flatware, china,
adding soft chattering, from other patrons.

"Okay, so don't tell me. Carry whatever's bothering
you around for the rest of the day. See if I care!"

He threw the seventy-five cents in the change cup,
slipping his hand around the hot cup. Only, he
squeezed a little too hard.

"Owwww......owwww...owwwww....."

Doing an involuntary dance, Zach shook coffee all over
the counter and himself.

Michael responded, "Oh jeeze... hold on... I'll get
you some ice!"

Reaching into the counter fridge, he weeded out some
ice cubes amoungst the Dr. Pepper, Mountain Dew and
bottles of Fiji water. LIfting his apron, he wrapped
the cold chunks in it. Coming out, from around the
counter, he took Zach's hand and pressed the cold
cloth, surrounding the reddened part.

"Oh man... oh man," Zach complained, then changed his
tune, "feels good...oh man..."

"Jeeze, I'm real sorry about this Zach. I suppose I
didn't put enough milk in it. If Christian was here
I'm sure he would have..."

"What do you mean if he was here? Isn't he in the
kitchen? Who's cooking all this food and monitoring
the counter?"

With an ounce, a wince of a smile, Michael reports,
"Me?"

"Is that what's dragging you down this morning,
Michael?"

"Um, yeah," he confessed.

"And you didn't want to tell me, because it was me...
well, Chad... all of us really, giving such highly
acclaimed raves over Christian..."

Stopping midsentence, Zach realized what was said, is
all that needed to be conveyed. He shook his head.

"Now I know why they call you a `bird-brain'!"

With the look of an angelic being on his face, all
Zach could do is shake his head.

"I know," Michael said.

"Um, I think my hand's frozen for now."

"Oh! Jeeze! Is it too cold?"

"Lukewarm," Zach replied, as Michael held his hand.

At this point, Zach felt more than warmth to his hand,
as Birdy's proprietor held it. Also, conversation had
ceased to exist, as the two locked eyes.

"Hey Birdy!"

"What?"

Michael called back, across the expanse of the small
cafe, taking his eyes away from Zach.

"How about another cup of java?"

In a rash manner, knowing his patrons for years, he
calls back, "How about keeping your shirt on?"

"Touchy-touchy," the bear-type calls back, but laughs,
saying, "never mind. I'll help myself!"

Sometimes, with frequented customers, knowing the
second cup was on the house, plus the fact it could
get hectic, walked behind the counter and poured the
next cup, without thinking of invadsion of the
employees area.

"Hey Bob, get me another cup, too!"

"Get yer fat ass up and get it yourself!"

The crowd roared with laughter, as Michael and Zach
carried on their conversation, the owner knowing the
rigarmarole began developing into `child's play',
between his patrons.

"Michael, I feel bad about all this. Between you and
me..."

"Yes?"

Both stopped. Both lingered, taking in each's other's
eyes.

"Um, I better get back to the store. Do you want me to
give Christian a call?"

"No, you don't have to do that. He's my responsibility
now. Besides, I've tried that. He doesn't pick up.
Maybe his cellphone is off."

"Could be," Zach shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, let me get you another cup of coffee."

"No, that's okay. I'm kind of hot... I mean the
coffee... yeah, that's it... the spill kind of...
heated me up and..."

As Zach left Birdy's cafe, he couldn't get enough air
into his lungs, leaving the interior atmosphere, into
the refreshing outdoors. All he could think of is,
`What the hell happened?' and he knew he wasn't
refering to his sore hand!

%

"Mmmmmmm...." Christian sighed.

Rolling over, in the bed he shared with Justin
Beanhacker, he tumbled off the edge.

"Are you okay, Chris?"

"Wait!"

Bracing himself on the night-table, he rose up on his
knees.

"Hey, how come you're not in the bed?"

He turned his head towards the jon.

"I had to get all that beer out of my system."

"Oh," Christian replied.

As he pressed on his hands, rising up, his face stare
at the alarm clock.

"Oh no! Oh no!"

"What? What's wrong Chris?"

"Don't tell me that is the time right now!"

"Yeah. It's nine-thirty am, why?"

"Michael's gonna kiiiiiiiill meeeeeeeee!"

"You mean you had to be to work this morning?"

"Yeah," He replied, looking around. "Where's my
clothes?"

"Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh what?"

"Um, before I went to the jon, I thought maybe they
needed some laundering, so I tossed them in the
washer."

"What the fuck am I supposed to wear?"

Suddenly, Justin's good-natured appearance changed
drastically.

"Oh. I...I'm terribly... um, sorry Chris."

On impulse, Christian dropped the negativeness, the
panic subsiding. The blond paced the floor til he
stood in front of Justin's lightly haired chest, the
chin pinned to it.

Lifting it, he replied, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have
yelled at you."

"It's okay," Justin made excuse, shrugging his
shoulders.

"No. It's not okay. It's not your fault I'm late to
work."

Then, in repose, adding a little cheery effort, Justin
says, "It's neither of our faults. I think we both had
a good time last night."

Working his face closer, his fingertips under Justin's
chin, Christian adds his whole palm, drawing his own
face closer.

"I didn't just have a good time last night, Jus. I had
the time of my life!"

Once their lips formed the bridge, their clasping
bodies kept it from collapsing.

%

"Mr. Roberts, I have an override. Could you sign it
please?"

"Where's Jack?"

"He's on the register."

Sure enough, Jack, the head cashier busied himself,
swiping cereal, canned goods and weighing grapes, at
register 8.

"Another thing, Mr. Roberts?"

"Yes, Anne?"

"I know it's not Jack's fault, but he keeps calling
for back up and nobody's answering."

"What about John?"

Anne shrugs her shoulders. From there, Zach, already
in mixed emotions, regarding Michael Byrd and
Christian's no-show, tries his damnedest to apologize
to customers, three-deep on line, cracking a fake
smile, in apology. As he heads towards the stockroom,
he flips open his phone.

"Chad? Yeah, we got a problem.... no, nothing like
that... lines! The place is like being overrun here
and... great! See ya!"

Proceeding to the stockroom, after hanging up with
Chad, he swings open one of the in-out doors.

"How's it going Andy?"

"Busy as hell!"

"How's Nolan working out?"

He gives Zach a dirty look, responding, "Who?"

Hands on hips, looking through the guts of the
bakery-deli counter, he wonders why he can't see Nolan
running about, helping customers. Yet, there's only
Andy. Doubly pissed, he starts to comb the back myriad
of the store. He checks his office, with no response.
`Hmm.'

"Yikes!"

With his usual stance, Zach stands there, hands on
hips, his jaw dropped wide open, eyes bugged out.

"And what the hell do you call this, John?"

It hasn't even registered with Zach yet, of who's ass
John's cock is driven into, up to the hilt, his white
shirt and tie, hanging over his victim's back, in
front of one of the sinks.

"Uh... sorry, Mr. Roberts."

"Oh you definitely will be, John. You're fired!"

"Um, yes sir, Mr. Roberts."

Finally, John, knowing the precarious predicament he's
in, pulls out, a sloppy sound, that of a popping
plunger, the juices flowing all over his teen cock.
The seventeen year old pulls up his dress slacks,
yelping, when his balls get clipped by his
tighey-whiteys. However, the physical pain becomes
overwhelmed by the embarrassment of being found out.

As he runs by Zach, his belt buckle and zipper still
not intact, trying to sloppily tuck in his shirt, John
again apologizes, "I'm real sorry about this, Mr.
Roberts!"

However, the part-owner of Barr's & Bridges, is not on
his main target.

"Zach, I can explain."

Before he can utter another word, Zach's fist k-o's
Nolan's chin.

"You fuckin' bastard!"

"Wait, Zach! I can explain!"

But Zach wouldn't let him. With his hands up in front
of clothesless, lower half, Nolan was no match for the
day's toll of problems Zach already had faced, to have
walked in and been surprised by this next
disappointment.

"Ughhhhhhh!" Nolan belched, as Zach's fist dove into
his midsection.

It sent Nolan to the floor, to his knees, clenching
his stomach, pleading. As he grabbed Nolan's scalp, an
arm touched Zach's bicep.

"He's had enough, Zach!"

As Chad cautioned him, Matty loosened Zach's knuckles
up. Nolan's head fell to his chest.

Outwardly weeping, he uttered, "I'm sorry," over and
over.

"Nolan's been through this already. Remember?"

Chad stood there, fighting to control Zach, holding
both arms behind his back. So tough was his grip,
every button on Zach's shirt seemed destined to pop
off, bare skin and frontal hair showing through, from
button to button. It took all of three minutes for
Zach to calm, allowing Chad to loosen up on his grip.
In the mean time, Matty helped Nolan up to his feet,
talked him through pulling up his pants, cleaning
himself up, except for the trickles of blood from his
lips, which had soiled his white shirt.

"I think it would be good if you left," Matty informed
Nolan.

"Yeah."

Zach's eyes followed him all the way to the door.

"And Nolan?"

"Yeah, I know. I'm fired."

Chad and Matty looked at each other. They hadn't an
idea that he was hired!

"More than that. I don't ever want to see you again."

Nolan left without another word. After two years
together, Chad and Matty could communicate without
speaking. They could sense Zach's personality breaking
down.

"Um, I better get out there and check out the line
situation."

As usual, Matty left his better half, his alpha mate,
in charge. As soon as he left, Chad tapped Zach on the
arm.

"Are you alright?"

Turning, facing Chad, all Zach could do is shake his
head `no'. His mental capacities then folded like a
deck of stacked cards.

"I'm such a loser," he literally cried out.

He clutched Chad, holding him tightly, as if the last
person in the world that mattered anything to him. In
essence correct, other than Matty or his immediate
family.

"You're `not' a loser Zach!"

Tears began to soak into Chad's shoulder.

"What the fuck do you call three guys, in two years?"

"Hey, you're made of better stuff than that... that
scumbag!"

Chad told it like it was, from his worthy point of
view.

"I don't believe he did that to me."

"Well, doesn't say much for his case, up against
Enrique."

Breaking their chests, Chad's hands still engaged
around Zach's torso.

"Do you think he pulled this on Enrique? Do you Chad?"

Nodding his head up and down, Chad smirked, than
replied, "Possibly. Now that I think about it, it
could have been that way."

"Oh shit!"

"What, Zach?" Chad asked tenderly.

Adding his own smirk, with a tinge of embarrassment,
he replies, "Damn, I really tore into John. I bet it
wasn't even his fault."

"John? John Dellano?"

"Yeah. I caught him with his cock up Nolan's ass."

"I didn't even know John was gay."

"Well, I lost my temper. Gave him hell. Fired him."

"Oh that's what he was trying to tell us."

"Huh?" Zach inquired, facial-wise.

Chad loosened his grip, tore a paper towel off, wet it
and handed it to Zach.

"When Matty and I entered the store, John was headed
up front. I told him to get on a register. I guess he
tried to convey that to us. Matty was more insistent
than me."

"So, he's on a register?"

Chad cracked a little smile, "Yeah. Imagine that. A
cashier working for free!"

"I'm sorry."

"For what? You reacted, not knowing anything and first
of all, John shouldn't have been in the men's room
fucking a guy on company time."

"But..."

"Having reservations, are we?"

"Like you said, Chad, probably wasn't even his fault.
The kid's a high school senior. Pitted against a
trickster like Nolan, a college kid, well... I..."

Zach lowered his head. Chad could read the signs.

"You did the right thing."

"But I'm having second thoughts now, Chad."

"I know you are."

Once again, Chad placed his hands on Zach's hips,
inside his dress coat.

"That's why I'm going to go upfront, relieve John from
his register and send him back here to talk to you."

"Talk to me? What am I going to say to the kid?"

"He's no kid. He's seventeen years old. A high school
senior, about to graduate. I suggest you talk to him
as an adult, to an adult, if you catch my drift."

"Hmm... but what do I tell him?"

"Tell him the truth... C'mon Dr. Roberts, you're the
psychology major. I'm sure you can come up with
something."

"Um, can you let him bag for you for awhile, while I
think of something?"

Straightening Zach's tie up, Chad replies, "I can do
that."

"Chad, thanks."

Adding his own smile, Chad kisses Zach on the cheek.

"That's what I'm here for."

"No, it's more than that."

With a ravenous desire for security, Zach placed both
arms around Chad and hugged him tightly.

"Don't worry. God's not done with you yet."

"God? When did you suddenly become religious?"

"I dunno. I guess I've been listening to the sermons
more closely on Sunday. Besides, Pastor Jack is good
eye candy for passing the time!"

It kind of broke the ice, as the two then took off on
a temporarily different subject.

"I don't go."

"You should, plus Terrence Beethoven could use an
extra counselor for the campout next weekend. I think
you would be good for the kids, too."

"Better than for the `big' kids."

Once again, the subject of Zach's surprise visit to
the jon, returned.

"Hey," Chad tries comforting, a hand to Zach's
shoulder, "you were angry. I don't blame you, but if
you think you can find it in your heart, to forgive
John, if you think he didn't have a chance against
Nolan's conniving ways, then I think you should give
him another chance. He's young."

"But the way he way going at Nolan's ass, it's like
he's.....he's...."

"Done it before?"

"Yeah."

"Probably has. Hey, weren't we both horny teenage
jocks once?"

Smiling, Zach resigns to, "Yeah."

Patting Zach on the side of his jacket, bouncing off
his ribcage, Chad states, "There. That could be your
major focus of thinking."

He added a wink.

"Yeah. Okay. But still, being almost an adult, John
has to take responsibility for his actions."

Leaving, Chad adds, "You're right. Tell him he's on
probation."

Nodding his head yes, Zach agrees.

"Fix yourself up. I'm giving myself ten minutes of
bagging duty!"

Doing it by choice, even though Chad made the thought
of a cool paper towel ran over his face, around the
back of his neck a soothing reality, a look in the
mirror drew both relief and scorn. `How could I do
that to the kid?', he asked his reflection. Then
thoughts of rejection, after offering Nolan, past
boyfriends so much, having loved and lost, began to
turn Zach in on himself. `I'm such a loser!' Even back
in his office, occupied part time, he thought himself
into a tight ball of `What's wrong with me?' What
seemed like two minutes, ticked away into ten.

The knock at his door, brought forth, "It's me, John
Dellano."

Rising up out of his swivel chair, Zach composed
himself, opened the door and answered, "Come in,
John."

Outrightly, John poured forth with, "I'm sorry, Mr.
Roberts, I...."

Halting his apologizes, Zach's upright, flat palm,
`stopped' him.

"Have a seat, John."

He acknowledged it, parking his tush in the straight,
wooden chair, on the farside of Zach's desk.
Breaking ground, Zach spilled out this and that,
relaying to John what had occured, followed by John
offering nothing but the same ole sobs of apologies.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Well, I really learned a lot from this."

"And?" Zach provoked.

"Can I tell you something Mr. Roberts?"

Throwing his pen on the desk, the one he held for
security, Zach throws his palms out, giving John the
floor.

"First, I never had sex with an older guy."

Wanting, almost tasting the question on his lips, Zach
wanted to ask if he enjoyed it, but knew the question
to be totally absurd.

"I... I've fucked guys before. Um... you're gay
right?"

"I haven't broadcasted it."

"Sorry. My buds say I have this `gift'."

Zach blurted out, "It's called `gaydar'."

"Yeah, I know. That's what my buds say."

"So, you thought I was gay, but you asked. If I
wasn't, I could have made it uncomfortable for you.
What if I had said `no', John?"

He rolled his tongue around in his mouth, bent his
neck and rubbed the back of it with his finger,
saying, "Well, I guess I'd get embarrassed."

"Hmm... And what do you think would have happened, if
you're say," Zach's eyes glance around the room, "had
been in a bar and asked a man that?"

"Shit!" John realises he's cursed. "Oh sorry. Well,
depends how he takes it."

"Exactly. If not the right way, he could punch your
lights out."

"Oh," John responded, gulping.

"But, let's get back to Nolan, shall we?"

"Is that what his name is?"

Cursing, but not in offensive, "Damn, John. You fuck a
guy and you don't even know who he is? How many other
guys have you fucked and not known?"

A grim look overtook John. Zach changed his demeanor.
He changed his mind about dwelling on only the
incident with Nolan.

"John?"

His head bent, as if looking at his own crotch, John
picked at his fingernails.

"John?"

Even though Zach didn't mean for this to happen, their
confrontation began turning into a therapy session.

"A lot."

"How many is a lot, John?"

Instead of a true figure, John alludes to, "I tried to
stop, but... but it feels so damn good. Know what I
mean, Mr. Roberts?"

The door had been left open ajar, by about two inches.
Zach got up and closed it. Even though he knew Chad
and Matty worked on their time off, knowing he should
go out and relieve them, his heart kept telling him he
couldn't release John out, into society, just yet.

%

2B continued...

Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection without prior written permission, by the
author.