Date: Mon, 13 Aug 2007 08:58:40 -0700 (PDT) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: Natures Trail 18 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. % "Nature's Trail" 18 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % Coming to a dead end, in the corridor of the hospital, they wheeled Mark into a sterilized room, two windowed, double doors closing, almost right in Denis' and his escort's face. "I gotta get in there... make sure Mark is alright!" Placing his five fingers on the glass, pressing on the door, Barry took hold of it, reacting, "We all wish Mark the best and believe me, he's getting the best care, son." Instead of accepting his father's rational reasoning, Denis freaked out, tears once again flowing, as he protested, "Nooooo, you don't understand... I gotta be near him... he... he saved my life. I gotta make sure he's okay!" Breaking his hand away from his dad, Denis did what he wanted to do. With both hands on the door, he began to barge in. A doctor they've never seen before, stopped working on Mark, shouting, "Somebody want to get that kid out of here?" Quick to react, Darryl, still keeping tabs on Denis, grabs him around the middle, hauling him back out, spooning his bod at the same time. "I'm sorry you can't stay in there," the police officer said. >From outside, Steve saw the doctor working over Mark, nod to one of the attending nurses. He left the side of the gurney and came out into the corridor. "Anything to report?" Barry asked. "Um, not yet, except the doctor has ordered up some x-rays and an MRI. However, he wanted me to come out and see if he," pertaining to Denis, "the other young man needs some assistance?" Before Barry or Steve could say a thing, Darryl replies, "He's suffering a lot of anxiety over his brother's injuries. Can you give him something?" Feeling the tension in Denis' bod loosening up, Darryl lightened the grip around his midsection. "I'll see what I can do. Follow me," the nurse said, leading them away from the emergency room. Barry hesitated leaving, so Steve told him, "You stay. I'll tend to Denis." "Keep me informed," Barry told his partner. "I will." Catching up, Steve caught the trio at the elevator, Riley coming around the corner, Matt still with him. They all entered the elevator. "I have some questions for Denis," Riley said, facing Steve. Steve replies, "I don't think Denis is any condition for any kind of interrogation." "No, don't misunderstand me, Steve," the six foot two puts his hefty hand on Steve's shoulder, "I didn't mean right at this moment. Wait til he calms down." The nurse keys them in, "Doctor Warner has authorized me to give him a light sedative." "Does that mean you are admitting him?" Even though Denis was on high anxiety, he followed the conversation passed along from Riley, to the nurse and then his dad. He blurted out, with high intensity, "There's not a fuckin' thing wrong with me. We should be with Mark, making sure he's okay." Riley, Steve and the nurse exchange glances, Riley saying, "Yeah, he definitely needs `something'." Highstrung as it is, Riley's words provoke Denis, sending him into desperation. Reaching out, his arm swings between Darryl and Riley, his fist punching the lighted numbers of the elevator, as he protests, "I gotta be with Mark!" With adrenaline running, Denis throws himself between the two police officers, when the elevator opens. Unfortunately for Denis, it was the third floor, not the ground floor, where they came from. Another dealt out blow of unfortunate incidence, both Riley and Darryl catch him, oncoming, taking hold of his arms, Riley saying, "Whoa there!" Now, more in a fit of rage, Denis yells, "Let me go!" Breaking Darryl's hold, Denis' fist flies up, making contact with the twenty-four year old officer's lip. By now, Steve and the nurse have subdued him from behind. Matt yells out, "Oh shit, Denis," seeing blood spattered on the front of his tee shirt. The nurse looks over to Darryl, saying, "You're bleeding. The kid's busted your lip." Picking up on the comment, Darryl swipes the back of his hand over the injury, looking at it, seeing the blood clinging to the back of his hand. Taking a handkerchief out of his pocket, Riley says, "He got you good, Darryl. Here." The nurse says to Riley, "You want to hit two?" his head nodding to the lighted buttons. His finger depressing the two button, the elevator closes, proceeding on it's way. % Arriving home, Alonzo directed the kids, "Bath, then bed guys. Remember you start school tomorrow." Expecting words of protest, Alonzo was surprised when Seth and Diego were cool with the idea, heading right off in the direction of the stairs. "I think they're all `swimmed out'," Callan says. Smiling, Alonzo grabs Callan around the waist, asking, "And how are you doing?" "Worn out. Sorry, but I don't think I'm much in the mood." Leaning forwards, pressing his chest to Callan's, Alonzo kissed him, thinking of how Callan wouldn't have to do much. All he would require of his partner would be to lie there in bed and let him get fussed over. >From the kitchen door, they hear, "I didn't know you weren't coming home for dinner." Breaking off their kiss, Alonzo wiped his mouth as if food was on it, replying, "We didn't either. I hope you didn't fuss, Freddie." "Sorry we didn't call," Callan informed the household chef. "I had a nice dinner prepared, but it's okay. I stashed it in freezer containers. We'll save it for a time when maybe I can take a night off." Both dads liked his reasoning. Slapping a dish towel over his shoulder, Freddie said, "I'm going to check out some Tv. See you tomorrow." They bid Freddie a good night, then headed for the stairs. While ascending, Alonzo untied his necktie, loosely fitted around his collar, then slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt, down to his beltline. Stopping at the boys' room, Callan pushed the door open, asking, "Everything okay in here?" The two had finished in the jon, Seth saying, "We took a shower instead of a bath. That alright?" They let themselves into the room, confronting the two boys, topless, with towels wrapped around their waists, like the big guys do! Smiling, Alonzo said, "I suppose you two boys are getting too grown up for a bath, huh?" "It's a lot easier and quickerer," Diego told them. Then Alonzo brought up, "Did you boys have a good time at the pool today?" His question provoked the two into a frenzy of excitement, explaining all the things Matt showed them, plus how Matt set up races, on a smaller scale, for the boys to compete with each other. Seth says, "You really missed a lot of stuff we did, dad-Callan." Diego asks, "Where were you anyway?" The dads exchanged glances, Callan fumbling over his words, thinking of a good medical explanation, saying, "Constipation." "What's that?" Seth asks. Diego to the rescue, replies, "It's when you get stuck up with poop and you can't go!" Alonzo and Callan giggle, Callan telling them, "That's what it is!" Before they get onto a subject they don't wish to discuss with the boys, they head for the door, Alonzo telling the two, "Lights out in ten minutes, fellas." % Way ahead of Justin, Christian had stripped down to his briefs, asking, "What took ya? You're cutting into my quality time." Smiling back at his lover, Justin replies, "I had to stash some papers away in my briefcase. You're acting kind of perky tonight?" Facing the bureau, Justin took his shark's tooth choker off and placed it on top of the wooden jewelry case. Before he could get to the buttons of his shirt, a pair of hairy forearms reached in between, hands starting to undo it for him. At the same time, he felt a pair of lips on the backside of his ear. Right away he felt movement in his pants. Since Christian worked on his shirt, he started on the pants. "I met the new chef today." "How romantic," Justin states, as hands are felt on the inside of his shirt, grazing over Christian's lightly-haired chest, the other on his stomach, a finger pressing into his navel. Turning around, Justin asks, "Well? You going to tell me about him?" He ends his question, looking down, seeing Christian's 9c pointed straight towards him, as if a needle on a compass. "Second thought, let's wait." Not waiting for a slow strip, Justin hastily disassembles his wardrobe, as Christian turns down the bedsheets. "His name's Adrian," he continues, lying down on the bed, his head hitting the pillow. "French, eh?" "Adrian `Perreault'. Yeah, he's French and what a `dream'!" Entering the bed from the foot, Justin slowly climbs towards the pillows, saying, "Hard to keep your eyes off of him, huh?" With a bit of moderation, Christian says, "He's okay." Showing some interest, knowing his lover wants to tell more, he asks, "Stats?" "Twenty-four years old, about five-eleven or six feet tall, maybe a hundred and eighty pounds, brown hair, brown eyes, thin brown-framed glasses... a nice looking guy." "Nice? Sounds nicer than nice!" "Know what was really cool?" "What?" Justin asks. "He had on a thin, white shirt, almost transparent." Two minutes ago, Justin's hand had slipped around Christian's cock. Spelling out the details, Justin now had some lubrication to enhance the massaging action. "And what else?" It's then Christian caught on, looking, as well as feeling some wet pubic hair. "I've got a grip on this. You just keep going!" "Feels real good, too... well, not much else to tell, other than I saw these dark nips, a patch of hair mid chest and a hazy trail down his abs." "Make you hard?" "I wouldn't call it hard. Yeah, his looks got me twitching, but I wouldn't go to lengths to say he gave me a full-fledged erection!" "Not like now, eh?" "Why don't we forget about Adrian right now?" Christian didn't wait for Justin's answer. Right away he took the upper hand, forcing Justin to fall over onto his back, completely loosen his grip and relax, while he assumed the doggie position, head bowed to tongue his cock. % As Denis faded into the sleep mode, he repeated over and over, "I gotta make sure... make sure Mark is okay... I gotta be there when... he wakes up... he... saved... my life... I owe him... I... I...." "He'll be out for the night," the nurse said. Taking out his pad, Riley wrote down some critical information, sorting out Denis' last words. He didn't neglect to jot down the name from the nurse's badge, `Jack Collier'. Matt, still nearby him, watching him write, saying to Riley, "Wow! I guess this makes Mark some kind of hero, huh?" "We don't have all the facts. I'm not drawing any conclusions." "But you heard him, Riley. He said Mark saved his life. What else can you think?" "Like I said, Matthew. A detective doesn't make conclusions until all the facts are assembled." Riley also made note of Matt mentioning his name, in a more personal manner, even though his title, Officer Riley Sanchez was indelible on the brass-colored nameplate pinned to his chest. Maybe he wasn't the only one getting some kind of weird vibes! "I suppose there's nothing more we can do here," Steve says, combing Denis' blond hair away from his face, with his hand. "Steve, you might as well go see how your other son is making out," Riley suggests. "I suppose Denis wouldn't be waking up until morning, anyway." "Darryl," Riley dictates, "you stay here in case Denis wakes up and says anything." "Fine," he returns with, "but our shift is over. The sarge said no overtime." With an evil grin on his face, Riley says, "You just stay put and leave the sarge to me. If you don't see overtime in your paycheck, you come tell me. I'll straighten it out real quick!" As Matt stood there, he got shivers all over his body, a tingling sensation in his crotch, hearing the manner in which Riley spoke, a vision of a take charge guy, authoritarian in a way. It excited the hell out of him. Going their separate ways, Jack ushered Steve, Riley and Matt out of the room, telling Darryl if he needed anything, to press the red buzzer. Out in the hallway, Steve headed for the elevator, as Jack reported to the nurse's station. Riley and Matt walked in the opposite direction, saying good night to Steve, saying they would take the stairs. "I heard your partner say your shift is over," Matt made remark. "Yeah. What about it?" Riley replied, as if leading on the witness, in a court of law. "Nothing... I was just wondering maybe you would like to grab a cup of coffee... something to eat?" Always bold, direct to the point, Riley says to Matt, "Why? You've got the hots for me?" Fortunate for the swim jock they had reached the bottom of the stairway, him losing his balance, at the surprise insinuation. Continuing his assault, Riley said, "Why don't you cut the act, Matthew? I saw you checking me out way back on Bridges Lane, right after I stopped you for speeding. You couldn't keep your eyes off of me. Admit it." Slow to respond, Matt answered with, "Um..." "You were standing right next to me when I checked out Mark's injuries. When I squatted in front of the door, your eyes were down my shirt. You were probably checking out the package." "Um, I.... uh..." Before the nineteen year old could get the words out, Riley had him up against the wall, his hands working the tee shirt out of Matt's gymshorts, his hands up under the tail, his lips pressing Matt's head against the wall. % "Did you call your parents, John?" "Yeah, back at the store. I told them I was spending the night with you." "They trust you?" Kevin questioned him, stripping off his tee shirt. "I've never lied to them," John went on talking, as he gazed at an unframed drawing of a nude guy, head, chest and waist. "We have a good relationship. They think I'm responsible enough to make my own decisions," John detailed, shuffling through some other drawings, all of guys, some hairy, some smooth. "That's cool. You feel like posing for awhile?" Standing there barechested, the smooth blond starts unbuckling his pants, asking, "Where's your roommate?" "Kirk is out partying. He won't be in til late. Real late!" "Too bad he's straight. He's a cute guy." "Yeah he is," Kevin agrees, "but one time I asked him if he would ever let a guy give him a blow job." "And?" "He said it depended on the guy." "So, did you offer yourself?" Laughing, Kevin answered, "No, but he's so cute, I probably wouldn't hesitate!" "Might be kind of fun." "What?" "Watching you give a straight guy a blow job?" "I could get into it. Sure. If it got your rocks off, I'd do it with you watching." "I was only kidding, Kevin." "Well, I'm not. So anytime you want to see me do it, just ask." By the time Kevin got to the end of his statement, he was stripped to the buff, standing in front of John, who likewise showed all he owned. Taking John's hand, he led him over to the bed. "Here. Lie down." "You're going to sketch me in bed?" "Oh, you got me so horned up, I'm going to do more than sketch you!" % Michael got tired of flipping through the Genre magazine, looking at all the pretty boys, as he lay in bed, waiting for Kevin to come home. Feeling up his cock and balls, he tumbled them around, as he got more comfortable. He couldn't achieve the satisfaction of being stripped down and lying in bed all alone. Turning, he looked at the alarm clock, saying out loud, "Eight o'clock? Geesh, Kevin where are you?" Right after he said it, he heard the jingle on the cafe door, set ringing. "Honey, I'm home!" Could be heard, as footsteps ascended the wooden stairs. "You're getting in kind of late, sweetheart." "I know. Sorry about that. I don't think it'll happen again." "Why? Don't tell me you've hired someone?" Michael asks. Slowly, as Kevin's fingers worked on getting his clothes off, the `hiring' story unfolded. "I guess you can say I was in the right place at the right time." "Oh? How's that go?" "I've seen this guy before. He's the distributor for household goods; brooms, mops, pots'n'pans, plastic ware. Anyway, I was feeling kind of desperate about putting in these sixty hour weeks, so I figured I'd approach Tom. He's usually so busy you can't get near him, so I figured I'd snag him in the housewares aisle, after he finishes with the sales rep. I lucked out. Tom and he were just finishing up. Tom turns around and asks, "What can do for you, Kevin?" I told him I was getting burned out and needed to hire somebody, asking if one of the staff would be looking to switch to a full time job, working for me. "And?" "Suddenly this rep, turns around and asks me the particulars of the job." "But he has a job." "I said the same thing to him," Kevin remarked, rubbing both hands up and down his bod, from neck to navel. "He told me he started with his company part time when he was twenty and in college. They promised him he'd be headed up the corporate ladder. Five years later he's still stuck in the same old position. He said he was tired of the dealing with the product." "I think I would be too. Can you imagine thinking you're going to be moved up someday and that someday never comes? The bastards!" With all his clothes removed, Kevin crawls into bed next to Michael. "So what happened?" "Well, I informed Fil.. that's his name... Fil Vitagliano.. I told Fil I hadn't worked out a lot of the details, but the hours would be flexible and a good starting salary. I told him right now I was a new company, so I didn't have any benefits. I told him to think about it. I had to laugh. He stood there for about five seconds, said he would think about it and then said he would take the job!" "Just like that?" "Just like that," Kevin replied, lifting the sheet, half-mounting his lover, chest to chest. "Fil said he was tired of driving all over creation, earning a measly commission and getting nowhere fast. I kind of felt for the guy. I've seen him working other days. I've been there. He's a hustler." "Cute?" Michael diverts to the personal subject. "Average. But he's really built." "Built? Like physically?" "Yeah. I don't have an application, so Tom gave me one a store employee would fill out. Afterwards I read through it. I mean, by looking at the guy, you can tell he's tall and muscular." "So?" "He's twenty-five years old, six foot three, two hundred and fifteen pounds, has football shoulders, brown hair, hazel eyes....." "They put all that on the application?" "Nah," Kevin giggles, "that comes from checking him out!" "So, he works out, too?" "Yeah and you should see it. He's always dressed in a white shirt and tie. The shirt has got to be a size smaller. The buttons are like pulling tautly across his pecs and abs." "Was he giving you a hard on?" Kevin didn't even answer Michael. Instead he jumped on his bod, head over his pecs and singled out a nip to chew on! % Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.