Date: Mon, 6 Nov 2023 11:39:42 +0000 From: TCHASE MCPHEE Subject: 'YoGA MaT' 15 % This work of fiction is set in the format of real-world situations.Identifying details to real people, alive or dead, is entirely coincidental in nature. If a character from this story happens to have the same first name, use it to your advantage and put yourself in his place. The author is not responsible for leakage. % Countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing `adult material'. It is up to you, the reader, to research this subject, abiding by laws and conscience. The pages of this story contain 'adult material', intended for an `adult audience.' Bypass this warning at your own risk! % If sexual scenes involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if dude-to-dude sex & related stuff makes you wanna barf or is gonna screw up your mind, you should not read this story. % Sexual safety matters. Guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt! % Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have over the years, consider adding some $upport for `internet $pace' or else I will have to start cutting handsome, hairy or steamy characters out of my stories. Do you dare imagine a story without any tops? http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html % Give till it hurts...and if that's not enough, get with some s&m! 'YoGA MaT' 15 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee % "Well, forget about it, then," Randy says in an annoyed, high-pitch tone, when Ritchie refuses to share the story surrounding events taking place in the upstairs darkroom of Sebastien Mission. "Okay Randy, I'll share." Randy reacts to Ritchie's change of heart, "yeah?" Ritchie played Randy for all of his worth, "but then you'll have to do something for me?" "What-the-fuck, Ritchie?" In Ritchie's eyes, Randy was beyond `cute'. More like one of those mega-hot guys, the looks, the bod, dirty-blond, all the superlatives of the definition of `super-hot', not to mention the attitude. That was the `old' attraction for Ritchie, before he entered the darkroom, where he and what he perceives as a mentor, got down to business. Randy re-sat down, his ass scraping against the side of Bumbling Ritchie, "well how long are you going to keep me in suspense?" "Aren't you interested in what you're going to have to do for me, Randy?" It couldn't be much, Randy figured, being it seemed Ritchie wasn't a mean S.O.B. and probably didn't even know what guys did to even up the score, but curious, "okay. Tell me what I have coming." With no immediate plans, Ritchie picks the obvious, "how about a blowjob?" Randy's never seen Ritchie `down there,' so had no way of knowing size, but it accordingly, he wasn't a natural born cock sucker. Other guys sucked Randy! "Well, yeah, that ain't gonna happen. How about I play with your nips a little? You chubby guys usually like that." Ritchie wondered if that was a wild guess, but regardless, busting to tell someone about his encounter with the Russian, "okay." Hyped up for the let down, it made Ritchie smile to himself, of the psychological torture he was about to invoke on Randy, "his name is `Vassily Mykov'," and rummaging through a pocket, "Vass gave me his favorite pair of nipclamps," Ritchie holds the shiny, menacing-looking clamps by the chain, high enough in the air for all to gloat over." When Randy didn't get any juicy facts, he uses hands to propel himself upwards, out of his seat, again annoyed, "unbelievable, Ritchie. No wonder they call you a bumbler!" It certainly didn't sit well with Ritchie, but the others took notice, especially Lance, saying, "now that's just wrong, Randy." Others agree, which has Randy protesting, "what'd I say?" "Quite a mouthful," Tom jumps in. Looking for at least one to side with him, Randy says, "what about you, Nick?" Torn between friendships for the others and courtship with Randy, Nick says, "no offense, boyfriend, but I think you could have handled that a little differently?" It was turning point for Randy, who after having to leave Wyoming over the gay issue, kicked out of a comfy lifestyle and taking to the road, only to be rescued by Tom and Mat, he softens at the hint of the man closest to him in his life choosing sides, "sorry Ritchie. I guess I got a little ahead of myself." Nick, being the closest to Randy, has noticed the `little ahead of himself', in lieu of admitting blame, "and what else?" Sucking his teeth, Randy says, "look, I'm sorry, okay Ritchie?" Nick softly applauds, which has Randy tell him, "hush!" When Ritchie was confronted by the 6'2 Russian `master', they went downstairs to what Ritchie thought was to even the score. He wasn't intimidated, being he was cradled in the pocket of the meany's pit, with soft, accented words, `we need to talk'. Their chat wasn't about stealing the nipclamps, nor infringing on Vassily's twirling skills. Instead, the unfathomable, Vassily thinking of him as one of the hottest men he's ever laid eyes on! Ritchie had to look around the basement room, which happened to be lined with old-fashioned porcelain urinals, to make sure he was the center of attention and not some other bloke, `I guess you mean me?' Little did Ritchie know, Vassily had his own rituals about things, which had him removing the leather harness criss-crossing his gym-induced pecs. At this point Ritchie feared for his life, backing away, thinking Vassily was getting ready to use him as a basketball! Sensing this, Vassily, in his broken-English, said, `no, no, no, you not need be afraid.' In his own quirky thinking, even though Ritchie was scared-shit, could lighten the atmosphere, `is that even English?' Advancing towards Ritchie, Vassily had a fresh chain dangling from a finger, `here, I want for you to have this.' Misinterpreting, Ritchie wards off with a wave of a hand, `no way, you're not chomping my nips with them!' It made Vassily smile, Ritchie's humor hitting his funny-bone, `no, you get it wrong. I want a ritual between us.' As the others in the van began settling down, Ritchie continued on trying to recall every little fact of his encounter with Vassily. He was concerned the Russian a little young for the part, but found his error in thinking, Vassily two years older than himself, thirty-two. Vassily on the other hand didn't think in numbers, but only how beautiful Ritchie's pecs, the hairy stomach and thought it polite, `you mind if I see how big?' He thought it really strange, a highfalutin' master of sorts, asking Ritchie politely if he could fondle his hardware, but responding informally, `ok, whatever floats your boat, Vassily'. After Vassily found his target, Ritchie said, `do I get to check you out?' Soon each were working the others crotches, until Vassily asks, `I want for to taste you, okay?' Shrugging both shoulders, Ritchie says, `hey, who am I to stop you? Knock yourself out!' It seems Vassily totally ignored Ritchie's laugh, spawned more from nervousness and not like a funny joke. Totally serious, Vassily had made sure the door was locked. If discovered by an intruder, his reputation would be ruined. It still could be, except for the pinging in his crotch implored him to say what he said, follow through with the action, surrendering knees to the floor, sticking out his tongue, licking Ritchie. "Oh shit, Vass!" It's then Ritchie realizes he's riding in a van, his hard shaft not riding Vassily's lips. He sighed relief after a brief look around the van, seeing everyone nodding off in slumber. As he turns eyes forward, there in the rearview mirror is Lance's stare, and the words, "what was that about?" A smug smile was on Lance's lips! "Nothin'." Even though Vassily had tapped vitals into his phone, Ritchie still had the hots for Lance and feeling he owed him more than a one word ditch, "I'll tell you about it later." Before Ritchie decides to join the others in his napping, he checks his contacts list and sure enough, it wasn't all a dream. There, was Vassily's name and number! % Mat was about to close up shop and head out for the evening, except he got stalled by a familiar face, at least he thought he knew, standing at the front desk. "Come to sign up?" "Me?" Mat watched as the dude pats his belly, hidden by a trench coat. "Hey, if you're here to start working that gut off, there's no time like the present to start?" Glancing to sign on the wall, he asks, "nude yoga? That for real?" "It is," Mat replies with a smile. "Interesting," he says. Going on a gut instinct, Mat throws a sales pitch, "there's a special going on if you sign up right this minute?" "Really? What would that entail?" Mat takes a packet from under the counter, "fill out page one with your signature, I'll take you to the yoga studio and we can start on lesson one." When he had met Mat, he had on a hoodie, bag over his shoulder, yoga mat tucked under an arm, which gave the impression, "but you're leaving for the night, I see?" Reading like he had a higher mental vision, Mat says, "I always make exception for a hot man, detective!" "Wait. You know?" "Yeah, I know who you are. We met at the Gay Pride Center two or so years ago. Well, not officially, but it was your speech about teens banished from homes for being gay. You did make quite the impression on my partner, Alton." "There it is," Detective Sharf says. "Well let me make it official," he officially reaches for Mat's hand. Instead of the formal connection, Mat invades the folds of Alton's trench coat, "I know you. You know me. Why don't we forget with the formalities and get it on with the trial lesson?" Alton was taken aback by Mat taking the reins, pinning him up against the counter as his trench coat was peeled open, their lips connecting. "Wow! Do you greet all your customers this way?" Not his first welcoming kiss Mat says, "some." Perhaps Alton was so enthralled with Mat's enthusiasm, he completely forgot about why he was there. His `mission' shows up, "oh, I see why you didn't come out to the car for me, like you said you were going to?" Alton had a quick double take, his ward preying on Mat's sexy good looks and not his own, "I was just about to," he says nervously, fixing his coat. Quickly Alton erases all intentions, "uh, yeah, Mat, this is Ashton Caufield." "The third," Ashton corrects, walking over to Mat, exchanging knuckle-bumps. "Alton says you have a job for me." It's something they hadn't discussed, but Mat doesn't leave Alton hanging on words he never got to, "sure, I could use another maintenance guy. The showers need scrubbing down everyday." It was one of Mat's ways of discrediting a guy who seemed to have the biggest shoes in the house, giving him the lowliest of jobs. Surprised to hear Ashton respond, "hey, I'll take what I can get." Mat had an idea, "what do you know about yoga?" "That om stuff swamis do, right?" Alton follows the conversation which seems to have outed him, "it's much more than that, Ash." It brightened the light of what Mat was thinking, "which, by the way, Alton was about to have a trial session, if you would like to join us?" Alton got nervous, "I don't know about that?" He bit a lip. Not which Mat wanted to single one or the other out, not minding a bit about having two undressed men in his presence as they did all the bumps and grinds of yoga, "if you have to run, Alton, you and I can have a trial session anytime." He realizes he forgot to mention the reason for his visit Alton saying, "sure, but about Ashton here." Ashton speaks up for himself, "look, you might not want me to work for you after you hear that I've been involved in a sex ring, luring young men to work for the boss I worked for, plus I once was involved in filming gay porn." Mat acts stern, until it's time to reply, "hm. Were you any good at it, the gay porn?" "Really?" Ashton is amazed, thinking for certain he'd be rejected. Mat drops his yoga mat on the counter, saying, "will you lock the door on the way out, Alton?" In a way, Alton was disappointed, wanting to share the sample class with Mat and Ashton, but knew he would be crossing boundaries of integrity, "I'll do that and take a make up trial lesson with you soon." "Sure," Mat unzips his hoodie, "and if you would like, Alton, bring a friend," he winks. "Cool. I'll do that." Mat got right to it, "I'll show you around tomorrow. Why don't we dive into your first yoga class?" "First yoga class?" Mat left his hoodie on top of the counter, so Ashton did the same, pulling it off overhead. Upon viewing the blondish-brownish treasure trail, Mat smiles, says, "we'll do the rest when we get in the studio." Ashton didn't know what the heck that meant, but follows Mat up the hallway. Fanning the door open enough to allow Ashton to walk through, "here we are." "I don't have a mat." "Not necessary for the trial session," Mat says walking over to the Bose, seeking some music on his phone. For classes he always chooses some nice, soft flutes and singing bowls. To better groom the atmosphere Mat picks some soft alternative music. "That's pretty nice," Ashton says, yet wasn't sure of himself, that he meant the tones and not the tone of Mat's bod! When Mat turns around, and with Ashton naked from the waist up, really gets to study the tiger trail that zooms up the chest, light brown hair fanning out over the pecs, and without reluctance, "that's an understatement." About ten feet from Ashton, Mat stands, stripping the tank top off, revealing his own beauty. Ashton is bold to say, "hey, you wouldn't happen to be gay?" Kicking his sandals off to the right and left, Mat says, "why, would you want to do a porn movie with me?" "Dayam, are you? Are you for real?" Not allowing his crotch to get the best of him, Mat says, "yoga first, everything else maybe later?" Mat wasn't wearing briefs under his yoga pants, which is probably the reason Ashton was going bug-eyed as the garment was stripped down to his ankles. Leaving them there, Mat straightens up, "um, would you mind helping me step out of my yoga pants?" "No problemo. On it!" Ashton was there like peonto, having been trained to be on his knees in an instant, with no questions asked. Hands on his hips, Mat looks down, while lifting each foot, "next?" `Next?' Ashton thought. It had to be him, Mat already stripped naked, "oh, you mean me?" Figuring Ashton a former porn star, he was being awfully reluctant, which has Mat stepping forward, "since you helped me, it's the least I can do to return a favor?" Ashton stood there, looking down upon himself as Mat attacked his belt. He was wearing briefs, which had Mat saying, "a little wet spot already?" Blushing, Ashton tries smiling it away, "yeah, I always tend to get hard right away when I am looking at a hot man." "Handy for a porn star, eh?" Ashton says, "between you and me, I auditioned, but didn't get the job." Cueing Ashton to lift a foot, Mat guesses, "which you probably spread it around to all your buddies you had applied, but too embarrassed to admit you didn't make the grade, which," Mat stutters after viewing Ashton's full image, "I'd say it's the studio's loss!" "Thanks. You too," Ashton catches himself, "I mean, the `yoga' studio." "Hey," Mat jokes, "my partner and I do sex like porn!" He laughs. To Ashton's surprise and disappointment, "oh, you're partnered?" Mat could sense and see the `grief' come over Ashton, places a hand on the twenty-six year old's shoulder, "don't get so bent out of shape over it. We like to share!" Thinking more on two instead of one, Ashton jumps the gun, "will I get to meet him?" "Tomorrow most likely. He's the business manager of the studio. Today he's out on a business trip but will be back by nightfall. But come to think of it, depending on how you respond to your first yoga lesson, you might get lucky and meet Tom at home, instead of the studio." "At your home and no the studio?" "Friday night is party night, that is if you're not already engaged?" "No." Without further ado Mat slips into yoga tutoring, working side by side with Ashton, instead of in front of the insignia whereas students are not to venture. As they plank, Ashton says, "thanks for giving me a job, Mat." Seeing Ashton, `hung', his dick almost touching the floor, "yeah, well you might have to assume that maintenance position before tomorrow if you get the floor wet!" Sending a message, Ashton says, "not a problem. I love the taste of cum!" % Lance was a good sport, dropping Tom off at his pad. Randy and Nick lived next door to Elton, so that was an `easy'. With one passenger left, Lance says, "my place or yours?" Ritchie couldn't believe his ears, "serious, Lance? Like, what do you see in a guy like me?" Smiling, Lance says, "are you really a klutz?" Everyone has their quirks, Ritchie saying, "do you really like getting punched in the stomach?" Lance had his answer, "yeah, I really do like it. Does that bother you?" "Not really. I guess there's a reason why you like it." At the light Lance taps a finger on his lips, a nervous thing which has plagued him forever, thinking whether to keep feelings wrapped up inside his mind or pour out the truth as to why he likes to do kinky stuff. As to the reason why, Lance skirts around the truth, "it was nice that you thought enough about me to come to my rescue?" When Ritchie went down that basement at Sebastien Mission, he emerged a new man, not afraid to speak his mind, "you're evading the issue." Lance made up his mind to unload his story, something reluctant to do, since he's done it before, losing a would-be boyfriend as a result. It always seemed to turn out as being a braggart, hiding his wealth under an everyday guy persona. "You're not going to run away, are you?" "Um, I might." Ritchie's smile was enough for Lance to know it wasn't about to be, "then okay. Soon as we get inside." "Inside?" Ritchie looks up, out from the dash window. "My place?" On their way they travel up the same access road that touches down near Marc's place. Marc happens to be home, relaxing out on the veranda, as Mat's Yoga Studio van drives by. Recognizing the powder blue, he doesn't get off his tush, but waves. "In case you don't know, that's Mat and Tom's good friend Marc. He's got all the amenities a home should have, pools inside and out, sauna, lots of room to crash, it's one of the reasons they party often at his place." Even though not officially meeting Marc, Ritchie returns the wave. "Does he always sit out on his porch with no clothes on?" Lance laughs, "the word is `naked' and yeah, Marc is kinda like that. Starting Monday he'll be working at the yoga studio. Well, I should say, the gym. When it opens he'll be the assistant manager, to Sherman." "Don't think I know him." "You will. As I've learned thus far, Mat and Tom's friends, which happen to extend beyond working professionally with each other, can be a blast at weekend parties." "Something to look forward to, I guess?" Ritchie not only had high perspective on working at Mat's Yoga Studio, but also gaining confidence enough not to mess up in efforts to make something of himself. Knowing this, Lance pats Ritchie's thigh, "and don't you worry, we'll get to the root of your little problem and find a way to work things out." Checking, Ritchie says, "you know everyone thinks I'm a klutz?" "So I hear. But don't you worry," Lance bestows another confident pat on the knee, "I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of this." They hadn't quite gotten to the front steps, driving further up the road. Having a feel for Ritchie, Lance wasn't at all reluctant to talk about his family wealth or inheritance, "our parents were killed in an auto accident when I was in college. My brother and I share the estate left us." "Really?" Ritchie is still looking front, to the right, left, "like, is he as cute as you?" Lance crocked half a smile, knowing how people can be overwhelmed by compliments. However, as it goes, he wasn't taken aback by anything overstated, something a guy could do, with intent to want something in return, "Logan, you mean?" He was about to advance further on the `cute' issue, but dramatically, Ritchie gasps, "Logan!" Ritchie loved the ring to it, "how dreamy." "Oh, so you're already out to ditch me, Ritchie?" Lance giggles. "Not at all," Ritchie places a hand on Lance's arm. "I'm not a `Daan'!" It's already circled the camp, Daan jumping from man to man, seemingly whichever one can provide the needs for means to be the fuel for his desires, sexual or otherwise. "So, how much farther is it?" A sharp left turn into to short driveway, Lance stops the car, "we're here." "Oh," Ritchie again studies the `mansion', from skyline to grass. As Lance has prepped Ritchie's mind, the buildings are a jumble of shapes, all lying out flat on a large parcel of greenery. Lance hadn't a clue to how the caretakers knew, but they exited the front door, Jae rolling Logan in his wheelchair, Steven holding the door, making sure it opened wide and closed behind the trio. As they approach, Logan is excited to see his brother. Jae's eyes are on his work, safely carting Logan down the ramp, Steven more attentive to the `cub' at Lance's side. "Fellas, this is Ritchie." Lance wasn't sure, but was certain Ritchie didn't mind, "he'll be spending the night." Ritchie gulped. It's not that he didn't oppose the plan, but it came as quite a surprise. Yet he wasn't the assertive type who asked if it was okay to crash for the night. As Logan approaches, Ritchie is there with a hand extended, all ready to greet Lance's rolling bro. Except, he didn't see the tiny gap between the end of the ramp and driveway, which has him stumbling forward! "Oh crap!" With quick reflexes, Lance hops forward, as does Steven and together they keep Logan's crotch from getting crumbled by Ritchie's face! Like in a cave of male bods huddled overhead, Logan doesn't let on, how the curvature of Ritchie's shirt, how the tightness pulls at what seems like hefty pecs. The twist and turn of the fabric reveals massive amounts of dark hair. Particularly the onset of Ritchie's bumbling move, separation between the tail of the shirt and belt, a lovely looking tiger trail, then as he is manhandled, the mid-chest area. Steven checks, "are you okay?" Ritchie says, "I'm fine," projecting a wide smile to Steven. "Sorry," Steve truly was, picking up good vibes from Ritchie, "but I meant Logan." Sullenly Ritchie reacts, "oh." Steve repairs his thoughts, "but you, too, you're okay?" Logan could be quite the joker, "no, Steve, Ritchie doesn't look good at all. I think you should take him to the sauna and give him a massage!" "Ha, ha, ha!" Probably the reason Ritchie did miss the yellow line running along the gap in the path was because he was checking out the gaps in Steven's tank top, wherever flesh was visible. "Logan, really?" Lance bawls his brother out, "y'know, someone could have been hurt?" "Oh," Logan cups his lower lip over the top. Really, Lance was trying to cover for his brother's lewd comment. Meant to set an example of how not to be when first meeting people, Logan gets the corrective attitude, "sorry Ritchie. I didn't mean to make it seem like I was setting you up with Steven." Ritchie wasn't thinking of that now, though Steven did seem like a tempting dish. More, he was wondering about Logan's handicap, like if he was immobile to move about without a `chair, then how come his pants tented? To stray away from anyone's thoughts, being Ritchie wasn't the only one being perceptive, Lance says, "what's the menu tonight, Jae?" "I felt like something exotic. Singapore-style mai fun, show peas with king oysters mushrooms, shrimp and lobster sauce and Lapsang Suchong fried rice with vegetables and five-spice salmon." Before anyone could even comprehend, Steven says, "yeah, Jae had me on the run. You know how it is, Lance?" "Yeah, you would think by now Jae," Lance stares at half of his bro's caretaking team, "would learn to make one grocery list first, instead of ten as he progresses through the recipe!" At the time Steven was a little peeved he had to make four different runs to the market for Jae's family recipes, but at the conclusion to each visit to the store, there was a kiss, a pat on the ass and a promise for payback later. Plus, he got a lot of looks, gliding up and down the supermarket aisles in a tailored tank top, whereas he trimmed off the bottom to reveal a chiseled six-pack for lookers, short shorts and flip flops. Leaving the market with one big bag in hand, Steven cast it over a shoulder. With purpose, it would make his tank swoop further up his abs, revealing that slender tummy-trail. A little out of whack from his disabilities, Logan says, "so, hey Ritchie?" "What?" Ritchie says as they all accompany Logan back up the ramp. "Are you gay or straight?" Lance shakes his head, "what did I tell you about that, Logan?" "Oops, my bad," the twenty-eight year old paraplegic says. Then he recalls something he's observe and a matter of logic, "but you only bring gay men, bro?" Lance, his face shaded red, tries to recover the moment, "Logan, always the jokester!" Logan didn't like it, Lance turning him into a fibber, "oh, I'm not joking!" Thinking he's as cute as Lance, but different in thinking, Ritchie says, "not a problem, guys. I don't mind having a hot man bringing me home to even a hotter one!" Logan's mouth was wide open, "ree-alllly, Ritchie? You think I'm hot?" Patting Ritchie on the back, Logan parts company, "I'll leave this one for you to discuss you're way our of, `hot' man!" Steven and Jae go a long way back, friendship-wise, with Lance. Their greatest ally, Lance has been their support through many issues, sexual, racial, breaking the Chinese-Afro barriers for both friends and family. Jae already had being a chef in his blood, but Steven, without direction, found Lance the main influence in his quest to achieve degrees in the field of psychology. Quite by accident, when Steven and Jae's home was caught in a wildfire and burned to the ground, they turned to Lance for temporary refuge. That was right around the time Lance and Logan began picking up the pieces after the family car accident, which left both parents deceased and Logan with his handicap. It made sense for Lance to extend his cordiality to his friends, being maybe Steven could help them both get over the tragedy, but also recondition Logan's new living arrangement. One day Jae started cooking up some easy-Chinese in the kitchen. He would have loved to have revitalized his grandmother's recipes, but her handwritten notes, in Chinese, had been lost to the fire. Still, from memory, Jae could put out some food on the table, no one would turn away from. It was often commented that Jae should open a restaurant, even takeout, but Jae didn't have the confidence he could pull it off. Steven is still working on that! Steven sat and chatted with Logan everyday, waiting for Lance to get home. What began years ago has morphed into a four-way friendship. A plus for Lance, his brother gets free counseling. But no one was more protective than Steven and already with an interest, "so, where you from, Ritchie?" As bumbling with his actions, so Ritchie could be at conversation, "why, you have an interest?" Suddenly Logan decides to head out to the kitchen, where his brother is grilling Jae on what dishes he has thrown together for dinner, "see you guys later." Unknown to the others, Logan wore a smile, thinking how those two were getting along so well. As it has been, he never thinks a guy is out to get to know him and even though Steven is deeply embedded in Jae's life, he thinks Ritchie would make a nice boyfriend, (for Steven, not him!) With two trains of thought here, it threw Steven for a loop, "interest, as in?" Ritchie's parents had much to say about him coming out as gay, but as a cause for him to go on the run, he made a vow never to be prejudiced against anyone or any means by which to extend hatred instead of peace. It seems when Ritchie puts a thought out there, it can get him into trouble quicker than rain running down a tin roof, "you and Jae, you a couple or something?" "We haven't tied the knot, if that's what you're driving at, but we're close enough to come to that decision. But that's not to say we're not headed in that direction." Steven, thinking how much of a catch Ritchie could be for any man in search of a `cub', "however, that's not to say we don't have an open relationship when it comes to...you know?" Who was the analyst here? "No," Ritchie says, changing his perch, from arms at his side, to something more analytical, folding arms under his hefty pecs, "I don't really know what you're getting to here, Steve." It made Steven smile. No one, ever, has called him `Steve', except his father. Both parents supportive, the way they have nurtured him, has made him into the man he is today, regardless of gay or racial labels. "I apologize, Ritchie. Sometimes I get too hyped up on my profession and at the same time, with my feelings towards Logan, I tend to go psycho on a person." "Well then, mind if I ask a really personal question? Kind of retribution?" Steven wasn't used to the tables being turned, another man psyching him out, "oh really. Like, how would that go?" "Okay," Ritchie places a hand on Steve's arm and getting real close, within whispering range, "I'm not going to beat around the bush here, Steve, no pun intended, but is it true that black men have really big dicks?" "OMG!" Steven places a hand over his mouth, like yawning. Laughing his ass off, Ritchie says, "just playing with ya, doc!" What Steve was feeling down yonder, the playfulness could lead to proof of just how big he could get, "I can't believe you asked me that question." "I know it was kind of personal, but as I recently find out, through my new friend, Vassily, sometimes it's better to clear the air, put it out there, and get some of those little details out of the way, when meeting a guy. Almost like, you taking an interest in me, probably to make sure I am going to be okay around Logan?" "Logan?" Steven had a mental lapse. "Of course. You might be the licensed shrink around here, but I have my own take on how much you care about Logan." Steven had to quickly re-think this one, smartly saying, "perhaps then, you should think about going into psychology, Ritchie?" "Funny thing is, at thirty years old, drifting from job to job, trying to scrap a living together, I haven't had time to think what I want or should do for a career." It was an answer not to foreign to Steven, having usually heard it out of the mouths of guys younger, teen or frat boys, being in the predicament of escaping the past, "I'm sorry you haven't been given that chance, Ritchie. But you know, it's never too late to make those decisions, find a college to attend and achieve goals you think are unreachable?" "Right now, that seems not an option. I lost my last job at the green grocery supermarket when there was an immigration scam and now I'm working maintenance at Mat's Yoga Studio, which doesn't pay that kind of money. I'd need two or three jobs like that to earn the kind of money for college. Not that I'm not willing to do what it takes to get what I want?" "Hm," Steven dwell on all that information. "Is there anything else I should know?" Ritchie had issues with meeting people for the first time. Maybe Vassily Mykov wasn't exactly the right person to tutor someone in the art and tech of meeting a guy in a gay bar, but he did set Bumbling Ritchie on the track of being more assertive. "Eight inches, cut? Big balls? You mean that kind of information, doc?" "Well, I certainly didn't expect all that information. You sure got me beat!" Ritchie's bellowing laugh could become infectious, which has Steve overcoming his own issue, smiling at least. Slipping out of a straight-lace manner of reproach, he mellows out, "oh really?" With Vassily's own words, Ritchie puts it to Steve, "yeah and if we were in a more secluded spot, I'd hold myself up to you and compare!" He laughed, but Steven was already licking his lips, with want, "would you care to see where Jae and I live?" Suddenly they hear, bellowing out from the kitchen, a loud, long sigh, "oh-h-h-h-h-no-o-o-o-not again!" The chorus, sounded by both brothers, has Lance wheeling Logan out. "Guess what, Steven?" Logan leads. "I can only wonder," Steven knows, after standing and gazing at Logan in his chair. "Get your keys, we're headed out on another run!" Logan laughs it off. Most days he's cooped up in the house, but never a dull moment, with Steven, who has converted one of the rooms into an office. There's not one of the psych's patients Logan hasn't met and some of the guys, according to Logan, are pretty dreamy! Steven, who has taken the helm, "on it, Lance." "I didn't mean for you to go," Lance says, even though that's how it usually goes. Overriding Lance's comment, Steven says to Logan, "well, I hope you don't intend on going like that?" Emulating Steven, tank, shorts, but sneakers, Logan says, "why not? You go to the store looking like me?" "Just get upstairs and get changed and stop giving me a song and a dance?" Heading towards the elevator, Logan says, "wanna come, Ritchie?" Looking towards Steven, Ritchie says, "does he need help?" "No," Steven smiles, "but I'm sure he would appreciate having yours!" Ritchie figures Logan doesn't miss much, reason he's parked in the elevator, his thumb on the `open' button. "Steve said you might be needing some help? % At home, Tom and Mat had just walked in the door to their home. The usual, Tom slaves over Mat, closing the door and as it's gone for as long as they've known each other, Mat stands there. What has become ritual, Mat says, "well, how did your day go?" Taking the silver tab at the top of Mat's hoodie, Tom zips it down, "okay." "Okay?" Mat says, reciprocating with an unzip. "I hope you didn't put any scratches on the van?" He had alluded to a special part of Tom's day, which he says, "it was quite the day out with the gang. Made some new friends." "Oh, and how many of those friends did you suck off?" Tom laughs, "you know me so well!" There was no animosity towards each other. Open with their feelings the way things could go sexually and others, "for starters, I gave Randy two blow jobs today." Unbuckling Tom's belt, Mat says, "I hope you're mouth's not too sore for me?" "Never. You know I go beyond the call of duty for you?" A trail of clothing litters the floor from the front door to bedroom, each luring the other. If they were in a real serious mood, they would head straight for the bed, however Tom feels the urge for more than sex right now, "I was a really bad boy at the Sebastien Mission today." Standing there, in a masterly pose, feet apart, arms folded underneath pecs, cock and balls hanging down, he says in a ridiculing manner, "why am I not surprised?" "By the tone of your voice," Tom knows the feeling by heart, "should I get the toy box out of my closet?" Tom always kept a small assortment of nip clamps, paddles, a leather strap, and bondage equipment handy for occasions such as this. Patting Tom on the ass as he passes by, Mat says, "you get the bed ready. I want to go down to the gym and do a few reps." "Yummy," Tom says, licking his lips, "work up a hot sweat for your slave-boy to lick off?" When Mat and Tom first met, friends claimed it would never last. As things happen, Mat found a void in his life filled, both halves of the equation finding both love and passion for things which turn some men off. Not only each other, but that circle of passionate endeavors widened to include friends, all with want and lust for things abnormal and common. Their clique could be a night in the darkroom or the gang vacationing in the Rockies, camping out. However, tonight it was just the two of them. Figuring he would shower the day's grime off later, Mat heads down to the basement gym, which could instantly convert to a makeshift darkroom, the shapes of the equipment being compatible with lengths of ropes. Tom did head off in the opposite direction, upstairs, while Mat headed down. Halfway up the stairs Tom pauses, thinking to himself, "you know what?" A snap of fingers gave him the inclination that his nuts and bolt would not last that long, given he knew once Mat got gym-started, he could be leaking out half the reserves before they hit the sheets. Naked, Tom walks halfway across the kitchen floor. By the time he was at the top of the basement stairs, with the toolbox in hand, breaks out in a cool sweat. Leaning to "one side of the frame, he feels up what he's sure has happened, something which has been banging his balls. That bobbing up and down keeps in rhythm to his strut, as he turns with the bend in the stairs, taking him almost fully into the basement. At the bottom Tom listens, but fails to hear any activity, so utters, "hello? You down here Mat?" Anticipating his partner's wants and needs, sooner than later, Mat steps from behind the shadow box underneath the stairway and with a strap drawn from the side to the front him, strikes Tom straightaway on the buttocks! "Akkkkkk, oh shit!" Tom screams out, first feeling the flame of his ass on fire, then caves to his knees. "What the fuck, Mat?" Knowing what a dramatist Tom can be, Mat laughs, saying, "like, you didn't see that coming, boy?" First or second time Tom surprised Mat in the gym, it could resort to something like a few whacks of the leather strap across his asscheeks. After the third time, Tom loved the idea of being surprised, which could be something akin to being blindfolded, nips surprised with gripping clamps or clips. After nearly skinning both knees on the concrete floor, which could go unnoticed, being Tom's balls and tip of his cock touch the cold surface, it becomes second to, "besides the point?" Those puppy dog eyes, staring Mat straight in the eyes, the smile, it's all the master needs to continue the onslaught, "after you get the cuffs out of the toy box, get that ass over the weight bench, boy!" Standing, Tom salutes, "aye, aye, captain!" Soon as Tom turns to face the direction he intend on heading, there it is again, the strap against his butt! "Owww-oooo," he howls like a wolf. "Can you move any faster before it's tomorrow already?" Time was of the essence and Tom knew this being that once Mat's fully loaded barrel swelled with semen, it could start leaking and for certain, he wasn't about to miss a meal because of his own tardiness, "right away, sir." Nothing deluxe, an ordinary chest one could find in the back of a 4x4 truck, one a handyman could carry tools of the trade. For Mat and Tom's needs, there were dissimilar items, various compartments with nip clamps of various sizes and shaped grippers, a thimble... "Hey, want to try the thimble for a change?" Mat was a skeptic the first time he fit a finger in, "it'll never fit." On his own finger, Tom says, "that's kind of the point. Besides, you never want to use it?" Part of getting along was going along, "bring it." "Oh goody," Tom gloats. The items Mat looked for were dangling from Tom's hands, in each a leather cuff, chains and hooks attached to each. "Here, take this so you don't lose it," Tom hands Mat the thimble. Without a swatch of cloth on, Mat says, "like, where am I supposed to put it?" Taking the thimble off his finger, Tom says, "you could put it in place right now?" It had been Tom's idea to try out an idea he saw once in a YouTube video, a young guy forcing a sewer's thimble into his navel. Being Tom loved trying out new and kinky stuff, he just `had' to try this one for himself. "You and your inventions," Mat says, "give it here." "Like how does this go?" Walking over to a weight bench, Tom backs himself up, much like parking a car, "I lay down and all you have to do is force-fit it into my navel." "Right now I'd much rather be forcing something else in!" Tom's eyes perk up. Mat knows that look, "what?" "Yeah, forget the thimble, do it!" Rolling his eyes, which it seems only Tom could be the cause, Mat says, "I didn't mean my ramming my shaft in your navel, idiot!" "Oh! You didn't? Oh, okay then, I guess it's the thimble!" It didn't go by Mat as something so far-fetched though, curious as to how it could feel to jamb the tip of his shaft into a deep bellyhole! Placing the metal thimble to the top of Tom's navel, Mat says, "it doesn't fit." "Like, that's the idea?" Mat never did it before, force a thimble into a guy's navel. Finger, a few times, but it never did give him much of a sensation. "That's it. That's how the young guys do it on YouTube. Now just push." To Tom's instruction, Mat adds, "but it's going to push your hair in too?" Smiling, Tom relaxing with hands behind head, says, "no worries. The guy in the video had a massive amount of hair and it didn't bother him." "You're a sick pup!" "I know," Tom says affectionately, "that's why you love me, right?" Some guys wondered and still wonder what Mat, a slightly muscular, slim yoga dude has seen in a tall, bearish cub like Tom, but for each other, they operate on the same wavelength, communicating needs and want, the final beauty of their togetherness seeing through in the end. "My love goes beyond this thimble in your navel!" Seeing Mat's long, fat shaft hanging down, suddenly somethings are not important anymore, Tom saying, "okay, forget my navel and get with the real reason you love me!" Over the years, Mat claims he's loosened up Tom's ass quite a bit, from the tight pea-hole. Tom feels it the hundred-and-something time as potent and powerful as when Mat cornered him in the gym shower where they worked out at the time. From that first time in the gym shower together, Tom grabbing hold of the shower fixture, in order to lift his ass up so he could slide down Mat's hard shaft, was kind of the wrong thing. Pulling the showered out from the tiled wall caused a major leak which flooded the whole gym locker room, having to make hundreds of dollars of restitution. It's why, when Tom mentions, "you want me to hold onto the barbell and lower myself down?" Mat, taking up to lying down, his shaft pointing to the ceiling, says, "just promise me you won't bring the whole house down on top of us?" By now, Tom didn't care if he brought the moon and the stars down, lowering his ass down, one hand hanging on above, the other on Mat's shaft, guiding it to his asscrack. "Oooooooo," Tom shivers, feeling the tip go in. "Oh shit, Tom!" Surprised, but not that he didn't see it coming, Mat feels his shaft gobbled up when Tom lets go of the barbell. "Oh man," Tom says, "felt that!" Often Tom refers to it as like a punctured tire. "Yeah," Mat agrees, "I hope I didn't pierce anything more than your ass chute!" Stretching out, till his black pit hair can be seen, Mat relaxes, allowing his partner to do all the work. "Any estimates?" Tom questions. "I thought you didn't want to know when it's coming?" They've rehashed this before, Tom wanting to know when Mat's shaft erupted, but then scolding him that he didn't want to know when the payload was delivered. Such a quandary, Mat just bucks, giving Tom a bronco ride. They suddenly stop, Mat asking, "what's this?" "Oh. That," Tom says, taking a finger and pressing the thimble in so it didn't come out. "Fuck it," Mat missed the feel of Tom's hot ass. Tom gasps, forgetting that the thimble was still in his navel, it coming bouncing out, cupping at it to catch it from falling. When he finally does cup it over Mat's left pec, when in hand he's faced with no where to put it. "Oh well," he laughs to himself, poking it back inside his bellyhole! Mat, he doesn't know the difference. He's in heaven. % Meanwhile, at Lance's place, Jae, who has been cooking up some dish from his Asian heritage, discovers, "oh and Steven, sweetie, I'm out of soy sauce. Would you mind picking up some of that too?" Lance could never understand it. If he was out of an ingredient he'd wait until the next food shopping trip, doing without. "Of course sweetheart," Steven says, mimicking throwing a heart-laden kiss. Lance wanted to shower. He knew whenever Logan was out and about, free of the house, it was a big to-do, requiring loading and unloading the van. Then, keeping track of him with the run of the store, was like hiring a whole flock of baby- or dog-sitters! Years ago, he did promise himself that his brother would come first in his life. Sometimes a brief explanation could talk Logan out of going, but since it isn't the case this time, Steven says, "now, don't do anything I wouldn't do, Lance?" "If you don't trust me by now, Steven?" "I trust you, Steven, but what about Ritchie? Seems like he and Logan are starting to get along, if you know what I mean?" It's not the first time they've been down this road, Steven advising, "you have to let go sometimes, Lance?" Having this talk before, Lance says, "I know." It's one of the things he and Jae share with Lance, before and after the accident, being witnesses to what it put the brothers through. For Logan, it's been the post-accident trauma, waking up out of a coma and finding out he may never walk again. In retro, Lance blames himself, "if only I hadn't had that argument with dad, I'd have been in the car." "We've been through this how many times, Lance?" Steven presents, talking to him like a lover and now his shrink. "I know." Hearing the elevator bell sound, Steven says, "now no more or this, okay?" "Yeah. You're right," Lance says. Busting into the foyer, Logan says, "hey Steve, Ritchie likes the same, Rocky Road. Can we pick some up?" Lance reprimands, "not if you do what you did last time, bro." "What happened last time?" Ritchie asks. Staring at his brother, Lance says, "I'm surprised Logan didn't tell you himself." "I was going to make it a surprise," Logan stares back. Ritchie persists, "what's the surprise?" Reading the `shush' of his brother's lips, finger keeping the secret in, Lance says, "okay. We'll keep that a surprise." Grabbing his brother around the waist, it was almost like Logan was going for the crotch, "thanks Lance. You're the best brother ever!" Lance musses the mane of his brother's shaggy haircut much like a favorite canine. Ever since he's met this new gang, Ritchie has been aching to fit in, so steps up to the task, and even though it means no steamy shower, "I'll take Logan. That is if it's okay? That you trust me?" It did throw a wrench into Lance's plans, a way to get to know Ritchie more intimately, "oh, you're going with them?" Sometimes Logan could be his brother's worst enemy, "what, you don't trust Ritchie?" Right next to Ritchie, Logan reaches out both hands and cuddles Ritchie by an arm, "of course I trust Ritchie," even though he wasn't a hundred percent sure. Coming back in a hoodie, Steven says, "okay, who's all going?" He did have Logan's chair by the handles on the back, which has the brother saying, "no, Ritchie's taking me and Lance is staying." Buttoning up his shirt, which he had just parted down the middle, Lance says, "I'm going." Logan jokes, "what, you don't trust me with Ritchie, bro?" Steven says, "go have your hot, steamy shower. It'll give Jae something to do while he's waiting for his missing ingredients." "If you're gonna put it that way," Lance unbuttons his shirt. As Ritchie man-handles the handicapped chair, Steven hangs back, "he is kind of a cute cub, Lance!" Of course, kidding, Lance punches his left hand with right fist. Knowing he's said something bad, "sorry, bro. Not!" Logan laughs. While Ritchie pushes Logan towards the door, Steven hangs back to chat with Lance. "I know it'll take a couple of hours hogtying your balls up in Jae's shiny red lace. I'll take my time on the way back, showing Ritchie the neighborhood." Lance gloats, "man, if you ever decide to give up on each other and call it quits, I'll be first in line!" "Not a chance," Steven pats Lance in the tummy. "Besides, you're lucky you've got a pair of caretakers who like to share!" Lance stood there. Down yonder there was a disturbance in the force, one brought on by suggestion. Decades ago he got more than he bargained for, not in a bad sense, having met Steven first, on the beach, surfing. A year later and he met Jae, partnered up with his good friend. He smiles, watching Steven guide Ritchie in the art of wheeling Logan through the door. He recalls the day, in the beginning of their relationship, neither one crazy about fucking the other. Seeking outside assistance, they found Jae bartending in a leather bar. From that first night, the trio had found what they hadn't realized they were searching for. Before meeting Jae, Lance and Steven would often 6-9, which rather entertained Jae, forcing the pair into the compromising position. Call it kinky, Jae would roll Steven over Lance, or vice versa, inserting his shaft into whichever ass was on top. What Lance expected, did not transpire, having Jae become his mate. Still, there were fringe benefits to having the couple as friends, which as of lately, has transpired to a live-in arrangement, due to the wildfire situation. Reaching the exit on the side of the house, Ritchie reaches for the door, which Steven steps ahead to open. Thinking on it, Ritchie says, "I would think you would have the electric kind?" Steven half serious, half joking, says, "trust me, if we did, this one would be out, all over town, trying to pick up every boy he came across!" It's then Ritchie gets what he's suspected, "so, you like boys, Logan?" "Yup and you know what, Ritchie?" "What?" "I'm kind of jealous of my bro, that he saw you first!" Lance has heard that line before with just about every man he's brought home. Logan loves `em all! "Careful, Ritchie," Steven speaks Lance's mind, "before the end of this trip, Logan will have proposed marriage to you!" "Oh really, Logan? Are you old enough?" "Yup. I'm twenty-eight. How old are you?" "I just turned thirty." "Really? When's your birthday?" "October thirty-first." Before Ritchie can get a rebuttal question in, Logan says, "cool, Halloween! What did you dress up as?" "Nothing. You?" "Nuttin' too." Then, with a smirk of disapproval, "Lance doesn't let me go out on Halloween, even though he does!" "That doesn't sound fair. Why not?" While Steven readied the van to power-lift Logan inside, he was entertained by what he knew and Ritchie's input, the two passing back and forth `valuable' information! "This is the part I hate," Logan says. "What part is that?" Ritchie says. Instead of the problem, Logan lays it out, "Steven, when are you going to get a new van, so I don't have to feel all wobbly?" Steven shames, "soon as your brother ups my wages, I suppose!" Lance says, "we've been through this how many times, Logan?" "I know," Logan says with shyness, "soon as we can raid the trust fund again." "If we don't wait for the interest to play catch up, there won't be any fund left to raid!" "Never mind," Logan says. However, it did provide good reason to request, "until we get to the supermarket, can you help steady me, Ritchie?" Steven, the driver, turns to the passenger seat, "you're brother's a real conniver, Lance!" "Yeah, tell me about it. Don't I know!" Lance closes the side door, but not without the last word, "have a safe trip, Steven." Steven rolls down the passenger side window, "sure you won't change your mind, Lance?" His balls were boiling, wanting what men might think as mistreatment, but with Logan ever-present on his mind, "I guess I'll take a ride." First order of business, after Lance gets buckled in, Steven says, "what about you and Ritchie? Something there?" If Lance wanted to get serious on a guy, there was the whole afternoon to get to know one of the guys on Mat's Yoga van, but he chose to just get to know them as friends. It was always the same old, lame excuse, "you know I can't get serious like you and Jae?" "Why not? When you're not around, Jae and me take care of Logan as if he were our own?" "Really, Steve, you're going there, after how many times has it been that Logan has interrupted your love-making escapades?" "Yeah, well, hazards of the job." Lance smiles, "you and Jae are never going to make a baby, being interrupted like that." "Nah, we just need to change our fucking from daytime, to nighttime, when you're around." "Or, you could have Logan take pictures?" "Fuck you, Lance!" Mostly what was said up front could not be heard in the back, which is why Ritchie comes up between the seats, "Logan wants to know what you're laughing at." Steven puts him at ease, "private joke." Lance changes the subject, "by the way Ritchie, I never thought to ask if you like Asian food?" "Long as I don't see a squid on the plate, I'm okay with it." They laugh their asses off, which was good, since it provided valuable information to report back to Logan, "they're laughing at my joke." "What joke?" "About liking Asian food, that if I see a squid on the plate, I'll hate it." "Sounds reasonable," Logan says. "By the way, Ritchie, do you like sucking dick, or guys sucking your dick?" Ritchie giggles thinking this a little off-topic? He couldn't deny Logan was cute, both with his words and looks. A full brown beard coursed over his chops, but on top of his head a scant amount of hair grew. He wore a pair of mirrored sunglasses. "Hold still a second." Because Ritchie was staring into Logan's sunglasses, to fix his hair, Logan stared directly at him, "what are you doing?" "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm fixing my hair." "Can I touch it?" Logan reaches a hand up. Feeling frivolous, Ritchie says, "you mean the hair on my head or the hair on my dick?" A taste of his own medicine, Logan's jaw drops, but not losing control of the situation, "both, if I can?" "How about the hair on my head for now and the rest later?" "Really?" Logan tilts his glasses, as if it will make things clearer, "are you thinking of maybe going to bed with me?" Up front, Steven, who has more of a trained ear to what happens in the back seat, "uh-oh, I think maybe Logan and Ritchie are bonding." "Oh?" Lance steals the rearview mirror and trains it on the two in the rear compartment. "Is there something wrong with that?" Taking back control of the rearview mirror, Steven says, "you want me to lose control of the van, Lance?" "Why should you have the only view to the rear?" "Hm," Steven thinks on it, "you know I love the view of your rear!" Lance deviates, "and the time you got drunk at Marc's party and thought my ass was Jae's?" "Uh, yeah, well, I've still been meaning to tell Jae, but until then, it's still our little secret?" "That was five years ago, Steve?" "Uh, yeah, well, I'll break it to him soon." Steven didn't think a little fib hurt. That is, telling Lance he never confessed to his partner. Truth is, right after that party, five years ago, he told all, which is another reason why Jae worked his bondage skills on Steven, trussing him up in that pretty red rope he had for such occasions and played with nips, ass, cock and balls. "Hey guys, Logan wants to know when we're going to be there?" Steven says, "if I have to I'll pull over, but remind Logan there's a Ball jar in the back of the van?" "Oh yeah, he already filled me in on that secret. He told me he can handle peeing into a jar himself. Or, should I help?" Lance enlightens, "he still has feeling below the waist. It's just that he can't stand to," he couldn't think to explain, "um, let it all hang down, if you know what I mean?" Based on their little conversation, Ritchie says, "oh, so Logan can still get an erection and all that?" Steven is a little more bravo than Lance, "yeah, the plumbings in good working order. He just can't stand to let out his emotions, if you know what I mean?" While on that topic, Ritchie says, "does Logan have guys over, for `you know', or do you kind of help him out?" Lance thought it a touchy subject, "you think my brother and I have sex?" "No," Ritchie says, "never even thought it, but what about you, Steve?" "I'm his caretaker. We don't really click in that way." "Hm," Ritchie says. Lance is curious, "what?" "Seems to me, if you know Logan is capable of `feeling' down there, that you might think of helping him out once in a while?" Steven volunteers, "don't think we haven't offered? Like, I myself, being a glorified cocksucker, would love to wrap my lips around that massive tool, trust me." Lance goes off on him, "really? Massive, Steve?" "In principal. But you ask Logan on that subject. He'll tell you what his feelings are." Coming back to Logan, Ritchie asks, "do you need to take a leak, Logan?" "Nope." In a proud tone, Logan says, "already did it when you were gone." Ritchie did pick up the scent, like a sniffing dog, without being choosy. Instead of harping on it, "so, does Steve let you pick out whatever you want at the store?" "Nope. I can't take anything I want unless he asks me if I want it." "Oh? How's that go?" "Steve says if I picked out everything I wanted in the store, we would need another van just to haul the groceries home." They both laughed, Ritchie saying, "well, you tell me what you want and I'll see if I can sneak it in!" "Hey, Ritchie?" "What?" "I like you." "I like you too, Logan." "Good. Do you think we can kiss then?" Ritchie wanted to, but didn't know if it was appropriate. Logan, thinking he's waited long enough, says, "never mind." Even though a little strange turn of events, Ritchie could see the disappointment and thinking how it could hurt, "okay. One little peck." "You know, Ritchie, I was a good kisser before my accident?" "Really?" "Yeah and other than Lance being a good sport from time to time. Oh wait. I'm not supposed to tell anyone that." "Tell anyone what?" Like a little kid, bestowing a deep secret on a bosom-buddy friend, Logan lowers his voice, "Lance and me, we've done it, even though we're brothers!" "Done it," Ritchie probes, "like kissing each other?" "Um," Logan's face gets flush, like embarrassed, "more than that, actually?" Ritchie thought it weird, when just a few minutes ago, Lance denied they ever did anything bromantical. "So what? Doesn't bother me. In fact, I might want to do it with you myself!" Logan's face lit up, as Ritchie realizes what he's just said! "It'll be our little secret, Ritchie," Logan says almost in a whisper. However, Ritchie self-analyzes the situation, "why keep it a secret?" "What?" "Why should we keep something secret just because you're in this handicapped chair? We would be just like any other two guys dating." "Dating? You're asking me out on a date, Ritchie?" Ritchie began realizing things about himself, that what he was proposing was actually what he was feeling in his heart and other places, "yeah. Why not?" Logan was ready to burst, "Lance!" "What?" Lance yells back, followed by, "stop the car, Steve." Stopping, Steve yells back, "you okay, Logan?" Explaining his outburst, Logan says, "Ritchie just asked me out on a date! I got a boyfriend!" "Um, well," Ritchie treads lightly on the subject, not wanting to jump the gun, only having it blow up in their faces, "I guess you can call this a date." Logan didn't care. For years he's been starved to have a guy look at him, realizing he only sat in the handicapped chair, that it wasn't permanently attached. And, how does he tell a guy his cock and balls still work, that he can still build up emotion and at the right time produce volumes of semen? "Okay, calm down Logan," Lance cautions his brother. "We'll have a conversation about this when we get back to the house." Ritchie feels a let down, thinking maybe he has reacted hastily. However, sitting there in the special seat next to Logan, if he should be having second thoughts, they weren't materializing. Logan acts grumpy, folding arms over his middle, "darn that Lance. Always messing up my life, and just when I've got myself a boyfriend. Who does he think he is?" Ritchie smiles, placing a hand on one of those crisscrossed arms, "I wish I had a brother who cared that way about me. You know, the kind who looks out for you?" He was trying to melt the beast within Logan, which seems to partially work, "I guess you're right." "Well there then," Ritchie says with confidence. Not understanding, Logan says, "what?" He concedes to Logan, "we've solved our first problem in our relationship." It lifts Logan's mental, well as physical libido like, a hundred percent, "really, we're boyfriends?" "Yeah, but let's not make it big deal with Lance right now?" "Oh sure," Logan says. "We can make it our own little secret." Steven, in his line of work, taking notes while the patient is rattling off facts of why life wasn't working out, could deal with two or three trails of thoughts, which is why he could hear what Lance was griping about, but read lips of the passengers in the back. Lance suddenly notices the smile on Steven's face, "what are you smiling at?" Not wanting Lance to think he had a sadistical thought, regarding listening but comprehending lips in the rearview, "oh nothing. Just thinking of how you're missing out on the leverage of your balls tied up by Jae and having him yanking on the chain?" That threw Lance off kilter, "do you think he'll do me sometime, or did I blow it?" "Eh, he mind forgive you if you grovel low enough on your stomach!" % Copyright 2023 T. Chase McPhee Developing segments of 'YoGA MaT' may not be amended, distributed, sold, used, abused, quoted, paraphrased, chopped, sliced, diced, regurgitated, nor made part of any collection, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the author. To do so will result in 50 lashes with a wet swimming pool noodle! Drones are prohibited from overhead viewing. _ Check here that you are not a robot.