Date: Tue, 26 Dec 2023 20:30:22 +0000
From: TCHASE MCPHEE <survivalgame@outlook.com>
Subject: 'YoGA MaT' 17

% 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

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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.


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protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security

guard...unless he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt!


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Give till it hurts...and if that's not enough, get with some s&m!


'YoGA MaT' 17


WriTten by T. Chase McPhee


%


In general, when Lance finally shows up at the hospital, seeing a bloody
wheelchair, he was certain his brother was the one shot. Steven was on
hand to set the story straight.


"No, not Logan. It was Ritchie, who by the way, turns out to be quite
the hero in all of this."


However, Lance's mind was only one person, "oh. But how is Logan taking
all this?"


True to the police officer's opinion, Ritchie suffered a deep grazing of
the bullet, which made it look like a dire situation, with blood gushing
from the wound.


Thus, it was possible for visitors, one of them becoming almost a
particular fixture, "Logan is with Ritchie. I'll take you to him."


Logan's personal handicapped chair was replaced by a standard hospital
version. It is notable to Steven, Lance rushing to his brother and
bending to hug, something which comes by doing often enough, "oh, I'm
so glad you're fine, Logan."


It was strange to Steven, Lance making a fuss over his brother, but
keeping Ritchie at bay. Maybe after it wore off, upon seeing Logan was
never in any danger.


However, he didn't need to fuss about that, Logan saying, "if it
wasn't for Ritchie it might've been me who got shot!"


Lance does turn to the bedded patient, "thanks, Ritchie," but then
turns back to Logan, "but we better get you home."


Adamantly, something out of character for Logan, since he's followed
every word of advice his brother has dished out, refutes, "I'm not
going anywhere. I'm staying here with Ritchie!"


If he was standing, Logan would have had more of impact that he was bound
to stay put.


"You're coming home. Now."


Steven was a little shocked, being his brother's life was spared due to
Ritchie's heroics, that spending time there at the hospital, "I can
stay with Logan, if you need to go, Lance."


Lance turns to Steven and as if he's defending being attacked, "and
where were you when all of this was happening?"


Steven then realizes where his place should have been, but realizes the
trust he's had in Ritchie has shown through, given the incident at hand,
"I was in the parked van."


He didn't think mentioning the incident of meeting with Finn was
important just yet.


"You were in the van, eh?" Lance confronts Steven.


"I didn't think it a problem, being we both know Ritchie and find him
responsible enough to hang solo with Logan?"


Steven was puzzled, Lance giving him flack over not being in the
supermarket with Logan, even though Ritchie was not only there, but came
out of all this a hero and protector.


"I don't give a fuck what you think. Your job is to be with Logan at
all times!"


Logan dares say, "it's okay Lance, I like being with Ritchie and..."


"You," Logan points a finger at his brother, "stay out of this."


Rolling over to where Lance is in confrontation with Steven, "now, what
the fuck has come over you all of a sudden, Lance?"


Lance was kind of shocked his brother interfering, "you go over there
and wait until I'm finished here and then we'll go."


He assumed Logan would comply, move himself and the chair, and back
away.


"No. I'm not going anywhere."


He almost rolled over Lance's foot, not by being adamant, but
accidentally, but it served the purpose to show he wasn't leaving.


It's something that's been on Steven's mind and as psychiatrist to
both brothers, has brought up the topic of Lance, too much in control of
his bothers' life and affairs, "Logan's been of legal age, to make his
decisions for himself, beyond at least five years now?"


"Fuck off, Steven and while at it, you and your partner can pack up your
stuff and get out of my house!"


Logan could feel his jaw drop, at the audacity of his brother's words,
"you don't mean that, Lance?"


"He was supposed to be there for you and wasn't. I'm terminating his
contract!"


"Oh really, Lance? You talk about Steven, but where were you while all
this was happening?"


Oh man, was Lance in a quandary, knowing he was at home, flat on his
stomach, naked, on the masseuse table, Jae's fingertips running up and
down his back, cock lodged in the crevice of his ass.


"That's entirely beside the point. The thing is, whoever of
responsibility is with you, is the person designated to be in your
company at all times."


If Ritchie hadn't been sedated, he could speak for himself, but on his
behalf, Logan steps up, "you know Ritchie. I know Ritchie, and if Steven
thinks Ritchie is responsible enough to be with me in the store without
him, it's good enough for me," Logan's voice kicks up a couple of
decibels, "and if you at all value Steven's expertise, you would accept
his and my opinion, besides the fact Ritchie did everything he could to
keep me safe!"


As could happen in cases like this, when Logan got so worked up, his
anxiety levels could soar, causing eyes to tear up.


Steven says, "you think you have all the answers, Lance, or is it
you're afraid that Logan has found someone who actually cares about him
and that you're about to be replaced?"


Since this has been a topic of discussion at one of Lance's therapy
sessions, it had paved the way, but when brought out in public and with
his frame of mind as it is, Lance acts out abruptly, punching Steven in
the stomach, "how dare you!"


"Oh shit!" Logan cries out and as gut reaction, tries doing to
Steven's aid.


He was on his feet for all of ten seconds, before falling forward, Logan
trying to show his caring nature, "oh fuck!"


Lance, shocked by the fact he himself had gut punched his friend, plus
the fact that his brother actually stood on his own, freezes in place.


It's Steven, who had fell to his kneels, after Lance's fist made him
double in half, was there to react, "I gotcha, Logan!"


On his knees, reaching out with both hands, it was almost as if it was an
orchestrated maneuver, arms diving between Logan's and lifting him,
pulling him over on top of him, as Steven lay with his back on the floor.


Over Logan's shoulder, Steven sarcastically says, "thanks for all your
help, Lance!"


Rolling Logan over on his side, Steven following the motion, he scoops
him up, uprights him to where it seems like he's standing on his feet
and places him in the wheelchair.


Having backed away to allow Steven to fill the chair with his brother's
bod, Lance has a clear picture of what has transpired.


Steven, kneeling at the chair, says, "you all right, buddy?"


"I'm okay," Logan sits there, arms folded across his middle, looking
like he's pissed.


"I think you owe your brother an apology," Steven directs at Lance,
while still on one knee.


To prove a point, Logan says, "yeah and where were you when I was
falling flat on my face, bro?"


Whatever psychological grief Lance was feeling, he suddenly realizes the
implications of feeling Logan able to run his own affairs. A reminder,
Ritchie lying there in the bed, sedated, his brother relying on someone
else other than him for his welfare, "I'm sorry, guys."


Walking forward, Lance falls to one knee, "I'm really sorry I hit you,
Steven."


Under some circumstances, for Steven, it could feel good, but at the
mercy of an irate friend, "no real harm done."


As things turn out, Logan stays at the hospital to be with Ritchie,
Steven accompanying Lance home.


%


After dropping Jae off at the service center for the bike tire repair,
Daan headed back to the Gay Pride Center.


Off work from his landscaping business, Duncan Balderston agreed to meet
at the center to help unload and organize equipment for the upcoming
camping trip. Since he was off work, Office O'shea was coerced into
helping out.


Earlier, after leaving the incident at the supermarket, he had spotted
Duncan's landscaping truck and with an evil grin, decided pull him over
for no reason at all. Well, there was a reason, but none which would
stand up in court!


Rick had made sure no one was watching, grabbing Duncan by the shirt and
bringing his kisser to his lips.


Duncan had said Rick had a hell of a nerve.


Rick, a toothy smile on his drop-dead gorgeous face, said `I know!'


His churning balls wanted to get with Rick in the back of his truck, but
it's time like these that thwart such made up plans, something being on
his calendar for a week, the Gay Pride Center camping trip and how he
could help in readying for the event, especially since it was his idea
and he shared responsibility in gearing up for it.


He roped Rick into it, saying they could get together afterwards.


Meeting Duncan at the pride center, he was on his motorcycle, which not
only Rick got stares from how hot he looked, but also for the wheels!


"Nice wheels," Randy says.


Smiling and meaning something different, as one handsome man to another,
Rick says, "anytime you want a ride?"


Going on the defensive, Nick steps in, "yeah, about that, copper, him
and me, we've got something going."


Rick jokes, covering for himself, "oh, I didn't mean that you wouldn't
be invited?"


Randy answer for his boyfriend, "yeah, I think we'd be up for a
threesome, if you are, Rick?"


Overhearing, Duncan says, "or foursome?"


Daan hints for an invite, "I'd be up for some of that?"


Having never met Daan, Rick's eyes are all over him, from head to
crotch, "and who might you be, boy scout?"


Even before the thirty-five year old off duty policeman learned of
Daan's name, his eyes were all over him. Of course, unless a guy knew
Rick, no one could guess he was an officer of the law, dressed in
plainclothes!


Duncan, being a landscaper would often use this tactic to get his own men
to strip shirts, "whew, I'm really starting to work up a sweat."


After wiping the sweat from his brow with a hairy arm, Duncan reaches
both hands to the front collar of his tee shirt. With a hefty pull and
working hands around the back as the shirt gives, riding up his bod. Soon
he pulls the sticky fabric fully off and as he goes on the job, uses it
to swab each pit.


Randy condemns, "I hope you're not going to put that back on
afterwards, Dunc?"


Randy's boyfriend, Nick, has the solution, "no problem there, Dunc,"
he follows, "mine is nearly clean, as I put a clean one on before
leaving the house?"


Liking Nick's idea, Duncan motions Nick, "off, then!"


Stripping his shirt, Nick tosses it to Duncan, Duncan doing the same.


Randy rolls his eyes, just knowing why his kinky boyfriend catches the
sweaty shirt, and holds it to his nostrils for a couple of whiffs.


While those three carried on their own little shirtless conversation,
there's Rick, being Daan's shadow, as they are hauling camping
equipment from the pride center vehicle, into the center auditorium.


While Duncan keeps Nick in conversation about how he gave up on the
expense of buying deodorant, when it doesn't keep him sweet-smelling
during the course of a day out in the hot sun, keeping his chainsaw busy,
or directing his helpers in the fine art of turning logs into firewood,
Randy loses interest in the scents of a man, watching Rick and Daan.


Rick, who seems to have taken on the job of foreman, is directing Daan on
how to pick up a heavy load, without throwing his back out. Then, Rick
stands there, watching Daan bend into a squat to pick up a heavy tent.


"Nice job," Rick says when Daan, hugging the canvas parcel, uprights
himself.


Of course, his balls were doing flip-flops, after having seen Daan's
shorts stretching over his ass during the down movement of the squat!


"Oh, did I do it to your expectations."


Rick just knew he wasn't putting anything over on Daan, "wiseass!"


Then Randy felt lost, turning back to Nick and Duncan, those two
orchestrating their own lifting procedures.


Suddenly, from behind he hears, "you look lost!"


Swiping past him, already with a stripped shirt, it hanging over the
shoulder, Bill steps in with Nick and Duncan to haul food off the truck.


Having met the pride center director numerous times, Randy says, "oh, hi
there, Bill."


Standing about 5'11, a hairy beast of a man, paunchy stomach, still he
was physically fit enough to haul ass, yet given the opportunity, "wanna
give hands with this sack of sand?"


Helping out with one end of the bag, Randy asks, "what's the sand
for?"


Slipping it off the tailgate of the pride center wagon, Bill had his end,
but Randy has to squat to catch his end, unprepared for the weight
displacement, "oh shit!"


Two reasons for the cursive response, the inability to hold the weight up
and a reason for Randy to jump up, leaving Bill to carry the whole sack,
"damn it!"


All attention was on Randy, not for the fact he lost control of his half
of the load, but in squatting down, the seams of his shorts gave way!


Nick jokes, "I hope you decided to wear briefs this morning,
boyfriend," knowing Randy never does!


Still holding the bag of sand, like he's holding his boyfriend to his
chest, Bill says, "turn around. I'll check!"


"Fuck you, Bill," Randy says, knowing the thirty-four year old is not
type, will never have the opportunity.


Bill says, "mm, now there's a thought!"


Nick says, "no offense Bill, but Randy only does young guys like us!"


"Back!"


With one of the other workers entering the scene, all eyes shift to
Ashton.


Rick says, "I know you from someplace."


"You gotta find yourself some new pickup lines, Rick. That one is so
overused," Duncan laughs it off.


Snarling up a nostril, Rick brushes it off, "mind your own business
Dunc, like I know this kid."


Those who work at the center have gotten the heads up on Ashton, his
former employment on the shady side, working for a guy who hired him to
find young men and enslave them in the porn industry for cheap labor.
Bill knew of this from Ashton's legal representation. The others cheap
gossip.


Daan, new to the whole scene, Mat getting him his job, "hi, I'm Daan,
that's with two a's."


"Ashton. That's with one t."


As one blond to another, Ashton says, "great to meet you. You work for
the center?"


"Yeah," Daan replies.


The others return to work, Rick standing there and slowly moving an item,
his mind on how this is going to pan out. After all, he was just getting
to know Daan. Last time he saw Ashton was in court, in a suit, white
shirt, necktie, but to see his shirt coming off, all Rick had on his mind
was two blond hotties! :)


"You look like you know how to keep yourself fit," Ashton says to
Daan.


"I used to be more so, before I hit the road."


Rick was handed a box of tents poles, so used it prop his chin up on
while following the conversation, and comparing the blond physiques! :)


"Oh, are you one of Tom's finds?"


Both Tom and Mat have gained reputations as finding the most amount of
young men who had hit the road, running from a life which did not cater
to them being gay.


"I guess you might call it that, but really it was Randy over there who
found me trying to find some food in the dumpster out back of the yoga
studio."


"Someone mention my name?" Randy was on it, proving his ears were
attuned to their conversation.


Truthfully, Randy's attention was focused on not the two blonds, but
Officer O'Shea. :)


Ashton tells, "Daan was saying stuff about how you found him shuffling
through a dumpster for food."


Even though Randy flashes his eyes to Rick, "yeah, that's right."


Instead of a heated conversation, Bill says, "uh, nightfall is almost
upon us, boys. Can we hustle it up?"


Rick, who has picker up on Randy's stalking him, "guess we better pick
up on the pace."


Since he was there, much rather wanting to work with a hot, muscled man
like Rick O'Shea and not `bear-man' Bill Le Jeune, Randy says, "need
a hand?"


Having already exchanged flirtatious glances, Rick says, "could use more
than that, actually!" :)


Rick never said how he and Ashton met. Since Daan had captured the
twenty-six year old's attention, and after telling a brief account of
why he left home and hiked cross country, "so, what's your story, Ash?
It's okay if I call you that?"


Smiling, Ashton says, "I haven't been called that since high school.
But sure, it's fine."


A week ago, after his release from what could have meant jail time, in
exchange for ratting out the whole underground business his boss had set
up, Ashton had rehearsed over and over the way in which he could draw up
a synopsis and not have himself come out the bad guy. However, that all
went out the window, with a strong urge to tell it like it was.


And after telling of how he was a `talent scout' for an off the wall
business of hiring young men as actors when they would double up on free
time being hired out as prostitutes, it was Daan's turn to react, "so
what do you think? Am I a bad guy or what?"


The reason he had rehearsed a different story, was not to be judged
before outweighing how he himself had been duped into going along with a
scheme.


"Who am I to judge? Like, who hasn't done something they thought was
right, only to find out they've been used?"


"Really?" Ash questioned him.


"Tell you what happened to me, if you want to know?"


Ash wasn't sure if he and Daan were the same age, but had a feeling he
might be a couple of years younger, regardless, loved the physical
aspects of Daan, standing there before him shirtless, but maybe they had
something in common which could help them get to know each other.


"Sure. Say anything you like. There's not much more a guy can do wrong
that I've already done."


"I'm not so sure about that," Daan says, taking a seat on a nearby
bench, which formed a setting for a place where employees could sit
outdoors and eat their lunch.


"Try me."


Daan was sure if Ash's meaning, but for the life of him, he had the
strangest urge to reach out and kiss him! :)


"I had breezed into Chicago and like always, no place to sleep for the
night and happened upon a group of guys, in their teens and twenties, a
few over thirty. They offered me a hot supper and a place to sleep."


"Not without consequences, I bet!"


"Yeah, you got that right. I had my hot supper, but of the sleeping
arrangements, I wasn't so sure I wanted to climb into a bed with two
other naked men, in a room where cameras were stationed to capture our
every moves."


Ash says, "I know the feeling."


"Oh, I thought you were  only responsible for guys?"


"Yeah, that was my job, but one I got suckered into working for my
employer, if I didn't find my quota of guys, it would be me acting in
the movies they made. I know it was mean and selfish, but I couldn't
picture myself in a porn movie, with the possibility someone might walk
up to me in public and recognize me. I didn't think of it then, but now
I feel so bad for those guys and wonder how they deal with the
humiliation."


Ash slumped forward on the same bench Daan sat.


"What I think is, fear is a terrible thing and when we're faced with it
and have to draw an instantaneous, we don't always think of the outcome,
how it will affect our live later on."


"Wow, that's deep. You have a degree in psychology or something?"


"I saw a counselor in high school once a week, when I reported some boys
were bullying me. That really didn't stop them from picking on me, but
it helped me to deal."


Daan didn't harp on his stepfather and how he was not only bullied, but
beaten by the older man.


"So, did you ever go to college?"


"Nah. Dreamed of it, but because of circumstances in my life, never got
there."


It made Ash feel like a sap, being from a rich family, the opportunity to
work towards a profession in sports science, only to throw it all away,
sights set on making money the easy way, "well, for sure, I really
botched things up."


Placing a hand on Ash's hand, Daan says, "the guidance counselor always
said, if you want to change your life, you have to change the way you do
things. Right now, with this job, it's not the best on in the world, but
if I can save up enough money, I'm going to find a college and maybe
work towards a dream I've had since I was a kid."


"What's that?"


"Same as you."


Ash had to think back on what he said, pinpointing, "sports science?"


"I was always a chubby kid, but wanted to learn how to lose weight. My
guidance counselor mentioned how those bullies went to a gym to achieve
weight loss, muscle gain and to maintain. I can see you're no stranger
to that?"


Not which he didn't feel it, but Daan's hand on his thigh, Ash takes
it, and like he's being reassured, "you're so smart. I was such
rich-kid idiot to give up what I had to turn to a life of crime."


In their conversation, Daan thought Ash had mentioned, "but you were
depressed, bored with life. I know sometimes we have excuses for not
doing things, but there's no reason why, when we wake up to facts, we
can't turn our lives around?"


"Wow, Daan, are you sure you haven't missed your calling?"


"Huh? How so?"


"Instead of sports science, you should become a shrink!"


"Yeah, right," Daan smiles, "and with all that money I pocket, I can
hire you as my personal trainer!"


Affectionately, Daan leans his bod towards Ash, which puts them into a
position of shoulder to shoulder.


"Heck, you don't have to pay me. I can train you for nothing!"


Their kiss drew the wrath of Bill, "hey, you guys wanna get a room?"


Daan didn't let Bill have the last word, "you know, Bill, that Ash and
I need to have our own private tent?"  :)


Bill throws his hands up in the air, condemning himself, "when will I
learn to keep my big mouth shut!"


Duncan says, "when you've got two dicks inside?"


%


Back at the hospital, Ritchie was just settling in for a nice slumber,
Logan in the wheelchair next to him, yet he had convincing one of the
nurses to help prop both feet up on the bed, so he could relax.


"Are you sure my feet aren't in the way?" Logan says.


Soon as those feet went up on the bed, Ritchie had taken both shoes and
socks off, mentioning, "what? These cute little piggies," he pinches
Logan's toes.


"Don't waste your time. I can't feel anything anyway."


Ritchie reveals, "y'know, one time, I sucked on a guy's toes?"


"Did you like the taste of them?"


First thing to come to Ritchie's mind, "you aren't appalled, thinking
about it?"


Logan says, "um, no, but I'd probably be more the one having my toes
sucked, then sucking them."


"Let's move on," Ritchie laughs.


"That's okay," Logan says, "I don't mind talking about kinky
stuff."


Neither had any experience with stuff outside the box, but had great
conversation talking about mixing sex with handcuffs, edging, etc.


Not until Ritchie mentions, "what about bondage?"


His mind went right to red ropes, "Yeah, I know of it, one of my
companions knowing all about it."


Ritchie guesses, "Steve?"


"No. Jae. He knows everything there is to know about bondage."


"Really? Like what?"


"He's got this red rope, says he only uses it for shi-sh-barry, I
forget how he says it, but anyhow, it's from Japan. His father used to
do it and taught him how. It's cool, the feeling of this silly soft red
rope tied around a guy's bod, laced under his pecs, behind the back and
then brought back front, between the legs, laced around the balls, maybe
the cock, I forget, then tied off."


"Wow, that's some description," Ritchie is amazed. "So, you've had
him do it to you?"


"No, but, and I think this is pretty erotic, one time he had Steve and
Lance get naked and tied them together on the bed, facing each other!"


Taking about this, soon Ritchie was tenting the hospital bed sheet! :)


"Oh no," Logan says, "look what we did!"


They laugh, Ritchie saying, "you wanna take care of it?"


"If I had it in my power, I would," Logan says.


Ritchie snaps his finger, "I've got an idea."


"What?"


"I got some nice vibes when that nurse was talking with you?"  :)


Unsaid before, but sharing now, Logan says, "you got the same vibes I
got?"


"Gaydar again!"


They both laugh.


Ritchie rings a buzzer above his head. In no time a male voice comes on
the intercom, "is there something I can help you with?"


Logan can't help but burst out laughing, Ritchie shushing him.


"If you could come to this room, but no rush."


"No rush? Really Ritchie? If I could have an erection, it would be
happening now?"


Ritchie's shaft looking like it's ready to poke a hole in the sheet,
"hey, you're not the one in dire need of release!"


Entering, the pair look upon a tall, dark, Latino, Logan saying, "hey,
you're not our nurse!?"


"He's off duty. I'm on. Now, what's your urgent need?"


Did they have to clue him, the nurse's attention already focused on the
bed sheet?


Understanding the situation, without words, the nurse turn back to the
door, locks it and returns, "so are we ready for the unveiling?"


"Oh shit!" Logan proclaims.


Walking over to Logan's side, ass parked in the wheelchair, the nurse
casts a sly eye, "or am I talking to the wrong person?"


Even though past endeavors at hand-working himself to get hard proved
unsuccessful, right now Logan was having no problem tenting his pants,
"oh wow!" "


"What?" Ritchie says.


"Hee-hee," Logan giggles as if embarrassed, "I've like, popped a
boner?"


The Latino walks towards the bed, arms folded across the middle in an
alpha pose, "you don't remember me, do you?"


Ritchie says, "who, me?"


"No. Him," the nurse nods his head.


"Um, no," Logan says.


Refreshing Logan memory, "about five years ago. The EMT's brought in a
college boy who was in an accident with his parents."


At the time of the accident, which left his bod half-working, Logan
recalls, "was that me?"


"Yep."


"I seem to remember someone, like maybe an angel hovering over me, when
I woke up?"


While they chatted, Ritchie studied the nurse's features, at least what
a guy can `read' from a clothed bod, mainly facial recognition, the hot
beard, state, very short, cropped hair on the top. But then, he discovers
more, when the nurse rolls up his sleeves, dark, fuzzy forearms. Even
though the blue shirt was baggy, every once in a while, when there was an
offset of weight, Ritchie could view a pull on the pectoral region, perky
nips silhouetting the gown.


"Well," the nurse wears a cocky smile, "I don't proclaim to be any
kind of an angel, but that was me!"


Ritchie was getting bored, with Logan getting all the attention,
"remember me, being the one who summoned you, Donato?"


He could only guess, Ritchie ripping his name off his tin badge,
"Donato's my official name. Friends call me, Don," and as he turns his
attention to the sick boy in the bed, "and you've got quite a hard on
there, Ritchie?"


"Hey," Logan pulls on Don's shirt tail, "I've got one too,
remember?"


Standing back, Don's eyes dart between the two, "yeah and that's the
dilemma, which one to take care of first?"


Then a lover's battle ensues, Ritchie saying, "take care of Logan
first."


"No, Ritchie, you're the big hero. You should go first."


The war on words batted back and forth, till the forty-one year old nurse
halts the discrepancy, "okay, hold that thought."


"Huh?" Ritchie and Logan both question.


"Actually, I might come off as a slut, but I'd like to take care of you
both."


Again, the contest of each egging the other on starts up again.


Putting a hand up in opposition, Don says, "okay, hold it guys."


They stop their bickering, once again giving Don their attention.


"It's not like this hasn't happened before, so what I would suggest is
waiting to Ritchie is ready to go home and when I elect myself as the
followup home care nurse, I'll pay you two a visit and do `home
care'?"


Just then, Don's beeper goes off, which he reports, "I've got to take
this."


He leaves abruptly. Behind closed doors the two discuss what has just
happened.


"How is he going to do both of us at once?"


Ritchie says, "I don't know. Guess we'll have to wait and see."


"Why us?" Logan asks.


"Well, apparently when you came in to the ER five or so years ago, you
made the kind of impression on Don, which is tough to forget."


"Why did he wait so long?"


Ritchie shrugs both shoulders, "maybe he isn't allowed to date
patients."


"I guess that could be true." Then with a giggle, "now he has to wait
until you're discharged. Then, what do we do?"


"What do you mean?"


"Maybe we should get his phone number?"


It's then Ritchie notices something more, "hey wait," he places a hand
on Logan's shoulder, a hint to move aside, "where did all the flowers
come from?"


Logan rolls over to the table, set up more like a shrine, with flowers,
stuffed teddies, balloons, "oh these, you mean? Came while you were
sleeping."


With a smile Ritchie says, "any of `em from you?"


"Nah," Logan smiles back, "you've just me, here in the flesh."


At the thought of the word, `flesh', Ritchie makes a connection, "of
which I could see more of, flesh, you know?"


With a little difficulty Logan could peel his shirt off, starting at the
waist, "you asked for it. What do you think?"


Ritchie has a blue hospital gown on, but like he was shirtless, looks
down, then at Logan, "what I think is we're not much different!"


This puzzled Logan, "in what way?"


Signaling for Logan to lean in, Ritchie's fingertips touch the midcoast
area, "all this."


Logan wasn't getting it, even though fingers touching his fuzzy middle
chest tickled, "so?"


"Like, me too, I've got the same patch of hair, there? And," he
continues to skate two fingers down Logan's abs, "the stripe."


"I gotta see this," Logan acts so cute, leans in to grab hold of the
light blue fabric at Ritchie's waist.


He could only hike it up to Ritchie's pecs, but reveals the similarity,
"oh yeah. I can see what you mean."


Then, lost for words and the inability to pursue unveiling each others
bod, "so, who are the flowers from?"


"Ok," Logan gets down to business, rolling over to the table, "the
poinsettia is from Lisa and she writes," Logan flips the gift tag over,
"she is so thankful for your actions, which saved her and her son,
Timmy."


All Ritchie could do is smile.


Logan was full of accolades, "like I been telling you Ritchie, you're a
hero!"


"Yeah, yeah," Ritchie brushes it off like nothing, "what about the big
Teddie bear?"


Logan didn't see a tag, so pulls on Teddie's sleeve, "maybe it's
around the wrist."


He tries to back away as the bear tumbles forward, right on top of him,
"oh no!"


The chest of the bear fell over the top of Logan's head, which brought
`the crotch' about even with his face!


Laughing, Ritchie says, "his dick taste any good?"


Pushing it right off of him onto the floor, Logan says, "he doesn't
have a dick, wiseass!"


Just then the door pops open, Donato entering, "more flowers!"


"Where from?" Ritchie and Logan say simultaneously.


They look at each other as if they've had a previous mental connection,
then laugh.


Donato waits patiently for the two to connect with their special moment.


Ritchie says, "we're running out of room, Donny."


Logan asks, "got any more tables?"


"I suppose I can rustle up some."


With that, Donato sets the flowers down on the floor and leaves.


"Did you see that, Ritchie?"


"See what?"


"Donato, he didn't like it that you called him Donny."


"You can tell something like that? How?"


"With not much to do sometimes, other than being a people watcher, I
kind of pick up on vibes like that."


"I think that's a gift," Ritchie says.


"I dunno, but you better call him Don, or, I like Donato. It's unusual
and kind of a cool name."


Ritchie smiles, "I think Donato is kind of cool!"


More intuition, Logan says, "I think he thinks we're cool too."


"Okay, I've got this one table and one in tow," Donato wheels in one
bedside table, the other right behind, with one plant atop.


"Not another poinsettia," Logan says.


Donato says, "well, it is a few weeks before Christmas. What are you
guys doing for the holiday?"


"Ritchie and me haven't talked about it, but I hope we're spending it
together."


All along, the two have been immortalizing Donato, Ritchie saying,
"maybe the three of us could spend it together?"


"Um," Donato stutters at just not knowing, this suddenly sprung upon
him.


"You have family?" Ritchie asks.


"None around here. Fact is, since leaving home a few years ago, I
haven't seen any of them. Not by my choice, though," Donato begins to
unravel his past life.


"Hey, I got an idea," Logan brightens up the room with a smiley flair!


The other two wait, until Ritchie says, "well, what's your brilliant
idea?"


It was brilliant indeed, Logan going beyond the Christmas season, "if
you want, Donato, we can be your family?"


Ritchie wasn't opposed to the idea, being since Donato walked through
that door the first time, he's been madly in love with that bearded
face, "I'm all for it, if you are!"


He just stood there, smiling, but it's not like he hasn't gotten that
offer before, "I will definitely think about it, thank you."


Perhaps Ritchie had a little more insight, Logan having family, a gay
brother, who could relate to himself being gay. Cast off from a family
who could not stand their son being gay, Ritchie took to escaping, taking
to the road, "I could feel the same."


He hoped he would not bungle this up, Ritchie thinking how not so keen on
words he could be, but waited to see if Donato's reaction, which seemed
to pour on the pressure.


"Not sure about that," Donato says. "I went through some harrowing
experiences between life, the way it was and life, the way it is. .ou
catch my drift?"


Logan knew the score, growing up on easy street, with an understanding
brother, so left the issue up to Ritchie, which in his eyes gave him more
of a vision to why he loved the first man ever in his life, but did try
to persuade, "listen to Ritchie. He knows what he's talking about."


His mind divided between the two, that's something Donato has been
trying to figure out, whether Ritchie and Logan were lovers or just
friends, which at this moment he wasn't sure, but felt a warmness about
the two, "okay," he moves arms to a folded position, as he has dozens
of times in response to a hospital admin, laying down an idea on the
staff, "you've got my ear."


Logan jokes, "only one?"


He laughs out loud, but gets in return a scornful look from Ritchie,
"hey, lame-brain, can you get serious for once in your life?"


"I am serious," Logan differs, having dropped the humorous side and
taken on a more serious demeanor.


All Donato can think of is how well the two go together, like the last
two pieces of a puzzle with a beautiful scene unfolding.


He chances telling his true feeling, "listen, I like you two, but."


That was great news for both of the thirty year olds, Logan not allowing
Donato to waste anymore breath, "cool then, he's going to spend
Christmas with us!"


Donate wanted to allude to that, but being his mind was slower than his
intentions, kept quiet.


"Cool," Ritchie agrees, "all we have to figure out is what to get you
for Christmas!"


Logan jumps in, "hey, we've got to get your outta that bed Ritchie, so
we can go shopping!"


Those two, Donato was feeling a hype he hasn't felt in a long, long
time, so allowed his emotions to ride along on top of the high, but
cautions, "I don't think Ritchie will be able to leave his bed until at
least the end of the week."


He was standing close enough to lay a hand on Ritchie's forearm.


Seeing the tenderness, Logan extends his own hand, daring to latch onto
Donato's hand, "I got an idea?"


"Not another one?" Ritchie says.


Donato says, "I hope this is a good one?"


Ritchie had followed Logan's lead, not wanting to allow Donato to turn
and leave, weaving his fingers in among the forty-one year old's
digits.


"I think so," Logan says, "I've got Steven for my companion. Maybe
you can be Ritchie's full time nurse?"


Perhaps his head was swimming in a dream world, Donato wanting to be
around these guys more. He's already thought about when Ritchie is
discharged, he'd probably never see the two again. Life can be so
complex,  complicated, "but I work at the hospital."


Ritchie comes up with the idea, "can't you be one of them visiting
nurses?"


Logan picks up on it, "and you can visit us every day!"


"Better yet," Ritchie builds on Logan's rendering, "you could be a
sleep in aid, there for whenever we need you."


Donato liked the idea, no matter how far-fetched it seems, "are we
talking about health care or sleeping together?"


He was laughing, which causes Ritchie and Logan to crack a smile, but
they soon loose the humor.


Thinking he's stepped over the line, Donato says, "sorry guys. I
probably shouldn't have said that. Really, I apologize."


Pursing lips together, Ritchie morphs from a near frown to something a
little more cheerful, "not sure what Logan's feeling, I can't speak
for him, but I think it would be cool to have you naked, between us in
bed."


Logan comes back with, "you can speak for me, Ritchie." Then to Donato,
on a humorous note, "like, how big do you get, because Ritchie and me,
we'd probably be fighting over your dick!"


Well, he's never been that before, "an object of you two fighting? Hm,
does sound kind of erotic."


Ritchie wasn't always a scholar at arranging words, but could drive a
point home, "uh, speak for yourself, Logue. I'd be more the guy on top
and not sucking up."


"Oh," Logan realizes just much of Ritchie he doesn't know.


"Yeah," Donato sides with Ritchie, "that would kind of be the way I
lean too."


"Oh, then I guess I will have to be the one in the middle," Logan is
stone-faced in his thinking, all the humor gone.


Having been with other men, something Ritchie didn't expect when he took
to running away from home, it's given him a broad sense of how warming
up to sex could be, "for one thing, I don't think we will know how
being in bed with Donato will be until all three of us are naked."


Donato gets a little frisky and after looking behind him at the door,
attaches both hands to the bottom of his blue hospital shirt, lifts it
up, "if you don't mind, how about giving us a sample of how you
perform, Logan?"


"Oh damn," Logan reacts, "are those real ripples?"


Ritchie giggles, "they're called a six-packs, bird-brain!"


When they hear the door being tried with failure, Ritchie says, "you
locked the door, Donato?"


Like he's embarrassed, Donato says, "yeah, my bad," he cracks half a
smile.


"Logan," they hear through the facade of the door, "you okay in
there?"


It was Lance's voice.


 Logan, answering, not his brother, but Donato's apology, "I'm really
glad we got to see your six-pack, Donny."


"Donato, birdbrain," Ritchie corrects.


"Oh. Right. That's what I meant. Donato?"


Before Donato could reply, Ritchie's on it, a little more adventurous,
"I hope we get to see more!"


"Logan, why is this door locked?" Lance pounds a fist.


Logan and Ritchie exchange surprise looks.


Blushing, Donato was a darker red, being he had that Italian `pale to
olive' complexion, mostly due to his mother being of New Guinea origin.
To either of the two, this didn't matter, except for it only served to
enhance Donato's handsome face. That dark beard against his skin made
those lips wanting to be kissed. The stripe coming down from Donato's
mid-pecs made both boys salivate. Though, Ritchie did wonder if Donato's
lips could be put to `other' use than just kissing.


"Yes. Sorry I have deceived you both, but..."


Donato wasn't allowed to give a full interpretation of why he
sequestered them all away in the hospital room, Lance not giving them the
opportunity, another rap of the knuckles.


"I better get that."


As he backed away from Ritchie and Logan, Donato's back was not towards
them for a moment. Perhaps he wanted to savor every bit of sight
available before the brother came barging in?


"Well, it's about time," Lance started digging in on the gatekeeper,
till he had fractions of a minute to analyze the man standing before
him.


Regardless, in another split second, Lance remembers why he was hammering
away on wood.


However, Donato on the offensive, "hold it there. We have rules at the
hospital, like have you checked in at the front desk?"


Certainly, Donato's hand on his chest did make Lance lose temporary
focus, "uh, yes, matter of factly."


Man, was Lance sorry when Donato dropped his hand!


"Okay, then you're allowed to visit."


Knowing Donato from a different perspective, Ritchie and Logan were ready
to laugh out loud.


Logan, the joker, laughs, says of his brother, "show him your six-pack,
Donato. That'll sweeten up Lance's attitude!"


Ritchie, impressed with Logan's line, adds, "yeah, maybe you'll get
further than we did!"


It was like their laughter was a concerted effort.


Donato turns around, dropping his hand from the impression on Lance's
chest to address, "really, Ritchie?"


Not which Donato didn't have some kind of designs on the two, regarding
the cheerfulness, ability to make him laugh, not to mention their
impressions of his six-pack. He knew that stripe down, dividing the
rippled muscle often got to most men, issuing a sense of direction.


Lance didn't wish to be a sourpuss, so instead of what he had on his
mind, to reprimand, he lightens up, "well, when do I get to see this
six-pack my brother has boasted about?"


In private Logan and Ritchie had spoken jovially about Lance, of how
he's devoted his life to becoming a ward to his brother and not enjoying
life.


About other things, Logan slips, telling something of Lance, "hey, you
wouldn't happen to be into kinky stuff. Lance, he's into that s&m
stuff, you know?"


Lance's jaw drops, "really, you're going there bro?"


There had been the occasional get togethers, whereas Steven would take
care of Logan, while Jae was available to Lance, weaving his red rope
skills around nooks and crannies of Lance's bod. Rope accentuated the
brother's nips, bellyhole, was wrapped around each nut sack, ran through
ass crack  with a rope-burning effect and doubling back around the front,
secured around the base of a hard shaft.


"Show him your six-pack, Donato."


Donato heard Logan, but plays hard to get along with, "you first,
Lance."


Even with a warm glow about Donato, Lance was on his guard, being he was
adamant about Logan meeting anyone new, which how Ritchie slipped through
the grid, he doesn't know, "but I don't really know you."


Logan to Donato's rescue, "but we do and trust us," he takes
Ritchie's hand, "Donato is an okay guy."


Ritchie says, "go for it Lance!"


Lance was torn between what he intended on saying to Ritchie, things
about Ritchie and Logan becoming boyfriends, dissuading how Logan could
be more than a handful in regards to daily care and now, looking upon a
hot guy like, "I don't even know your name?"


Again, in one of his cocky moods, Logan says, "oh my God, bro, he's
okay. Just grab him, squeeze him in your arms and slap your lips against
his!"


Donato shrugs a shoulder, "he's got a point there."


Logan and Ritchie exchange glances.


Ritchie says, "that was quick."


"Yeah," Logan was on the same wavelength, thinking how quickly Donato
came went in their lives.


Meanwhile, Logan consults Ritchie, "I hope I didn't pour it on a little
too strong?"


Ritchie smiles, "are you talking about them or us, because," another
smug smile, "for being boyfriends, you're acting a little cool?"


"Oh yeah," Logan's face brightens up, "I forgot we're supposed to be
boyfriends!"


It was a little awkward, Ritchie laid out on the hospital bed, arm in a
sling, tender to the touch, Logan in his wheelchair, with limited
mobility.


"Fear not," Logan gets a burst of energy and with all his might uses
the arms of the wheelchair as the catalyst for projection his ass out.


"Oh shit!"


He stood for all of two seconds before the wheelchair, which he forgot to
apply the brake, sweeps out from underneath him.



"Logan, oh my God!"


Lance was fast, but Donato was faster. Though the sweep was quick, which
had Donato literally catching Logan, one arm under the chest, the other
under his stomach, much like he was offering Logan up for a worshippers
sacrifice.


Arriving two seconds off, Lance's left hand coddles under Donato's
right hand. Lance's right hand felt something squishy between the
Donato's legs.


Even in the face of calamity, Logan could extend his instant humor,
"hey, who's playing with my nuts?"


The Dr. Jekyll - Mr. Hyde syndrome started to creep in, as could happen
with Lance, whenever his brother was thought to be in danger, "when are
you going to learn to put the brakes on, Logan?"


Donato says, slowly relinquishing control over to Lance's arms, "are
you serious, man?"


Like someone had given Lance the authority to expel every thought bottled
up inside him since the accident, he spews forth, "how would you know
anything? It's me who has bathed, clothed, fed, taken care of my
brother's every need for the past ten years. I don't need someone
coming along and tell me how to run our lives."


Being a healthcare provider, in the nursing sense, Donato has seen this
scene played over and over. On a couple of occasions he's viewed the
hospital psychiatrist deal with it, going head on with the adamant
caretaker.


"You did it because you have a deep love for your brother. That's
understandable."


Lance says, "I'm glad someone understands."


Here's the clincher, Donato saying, "so, how long are you going to hold
that over everyone's head?"


After setting Logan upright in his chair, Lance turns to the attending
nurse, "I beg your pardon?"


Right up in Donato's face, he says to Lance, "what do you want, a
medal?"


Lance neither liked the comment, nor thought it appropriate, pushing
Donato away, "fuck you. I don't need your help."


In Donato's thinking, he needed someone's and since Lance has already
stirred up his loins once, "I disagree," he comes charging at Lance.


"What the fuck?"


"I'll say," Ritchie views Donato, charging at Lance like a bull,
taking him clear through the white curtain which separates them and the
empty bed next to them.


Male hormones, they can sure make a man do stuff he would never do if
given the time to think things through!


It's heard, metal bed pans hitting the hard floor, some kind of doctor
implements chiming, as they are propelled from tabletop, down. When the
wrestling bods turn to stillness, the white curtain camouflages how
Donato and Lance come to rest.


Now the concerned one, Logan says, "Lance? Donato? You guys all right?"


Ritchie is on top of it, "of course they're all right!"


Logan's mouth pops open, upon hearing what Ritchie has detected,
smooching!


Logan says, "who do you think is kissing who?"


"Does it matter?"


A bit of hinting on his own, Ritchie intertwines fingers with Logan.


So cutely, Logan responds, "hey, maybe we should get with some kissing
of our own?"


"About time you came around, Loge!"


They didn't get around to it, the presiding doctor coming in.


"What the hell has happened here?"


Wrapped up in white fabric, Donato whispers a quick word of advice to
Lance, "he's not too gay-friendly and he's gunning for me, if you know
what I mean?"


When it was revealed who it was wound up in a mass of the curtain,
hospital equipment littering the floor, the doctor blames, "is this your
doing, nurse?"


Lance could go either way. Sure, he was ticked off that all these years
he's taken care of his brother's every need. He didn't need some
stranger coming along and telling him how to run him and his brothers
lives. Then, to analyze why he was getting so upset over it? In another
split second he had to react, but basing it more on what was right or
wrong.


"Actually," Lance steps forward, wiping the back of his hand over the
lips, "your nurse here saved me from taking a nasty fall. If anything, I
might think of filing a lawsuit against the hospital for leaving
equipment behind a curtain, whereas anyone stepping back against that
curtain can cause a person to trip and fall. If it wasn't for your
nurse, I'd be in a `much' worse state than... oh, I think my back feels
a little out of whack."


Taking the upper hand, Donato seeing the care Lance has taken to cover
why they were laying, raveled up in a curtain, lying side by side on the
floor, plus the real coverup, "maybe you should go fetch an accident
report, doctor?"


The doctor didn't like the idea of a nurse telling him what to do, but
looking up not only two, but the four of them acting as in solidarity,
mutters after closing the door behind him, `those damn gays!'


Even though the prejudice attitude, the doc was only a year from
retirement and didn't want to jeopardize that, so kept under the radar.


"It certainly looked like he was gunning for you, Donato."


Donato was thinking of another aspect, "so, you're not mad at me
anymore, Lance?"


Ritchie and Logan sat there, witness to what seems like a love scene
warming up, Lance approaching Donato.


"What do I have to be mad about, being you just saved my life?"


"Oh?" Donato couples his fingers with Lance's, "I thought we were
wrestling to see who the victor is?"


"How could I possibly win against a guy with a supposedly chiseled
six-pack?"


Donato smiles, allowing Lance to lift his shirt, "you can touch, you
know?"


Smiling back, Lance says, "are you sure I won't break anything?"


Logan laughs, "are they punch proof, Donato?"


Pulling his shirt down over his striped abs, Donato says, "I wouldn't
go that far."


Ritchie, throwing off Logan's attention, "I might have punch proof
abs?"


Looking upon Ritchie's paunchy tummy, Logan says, "looks more like a
hairy pillow!"


Of Logan's hand feeling the fuzz, Ritchie says, "be careful, you're
venturing a little too far south!"


"How do know I'm not doing it on purpose?"


"I'd believe it," Ritchie smiles at Logan.


After a short kiss, Donato realizing the spectators, "by the way, did
you notice, right before the wheelchair kicked out on Logan?"


Lance questions, "what about it?"


He told it straight, "in your delirium about how much you've taken such
good care of Logan all these years, which I'm not saying you haven't
done a great job of it," he rubs Lance's shoulders with both hands in a
warm pattern, "but he did exhibit being able to prop himself up on both
legs?"


"I must have missed it."


Realizing Donato the reason for missing it again, being under the power
of a testosterone moment, Lance `wakes up',  "wait, did you say that
Logan can walk?"


"Stand. Walking would be a whole different aspect. This might result in
another wrestling match, but I think you missed it because you don't
want to face the truth. You've taken a lot of pride in caring for your
brother. I can see the love there, if you know what I mean?"


Lance was warming up to the idea.


His dare might earn him a slug in the gut, but not only could Donato's
abs take it, but after the rumble on the floor and taste of Lance's
lips, the thirst to repeat became greater than he could bear. Yet, Donato
summons all his reserves to hold back on getting with some sweet
affection.


"Yeah, that's what I'm saying."


Lance got the chills!


There he was, torn between past feelings and now, what he's tasted and
felt as a result of a man who he was finding as friend and not foe, who
truly cared. It's not that Steven had explained the same thing, but
coming from another man, expressed in such warm terms, coupled hands in
hands, "maybe I've been evading it, a little?"


Another bright idea from Logan, "with Donato up your ass, maybe he can
show you the way, bro?"


Ritchie condemns, "Logan!"


All innocent-like, Logan mumbles, "what, Ritchie?"


However, Donato has thoughts of his own, "might not be such a bad
idea?"


"Serious?" Lance says, their hands bound to each other.


Logan left out the middle of an idea, saying, "uh, one thing about Lance
you should know, Donato?"


"What's that?"


Gazing at the four feet planted on the floor in a squared off position,
Logan says, "like, Lance is so scared of the sight of blood."


Ritchie tries sitting up to look, but falls prey to the pain in his
shoulder, immediately collapsing his back to the bed.


First Donato looks down the chasm of their bods, in explanation, but
calm, "oh wow, will you look at that."


"What?" Lance's eyesight follows, only to visualize the same, "oh no.
Oh no, no, no."


Logan gives another tidbit of info, "Lance is so scared shit of blood,
it will make him faint."


"Information, Logan?" Ritchie says. "Like, do you have to be so
suggestive?"


Looking for redemption, with those puppy dog eyes staring Ritchie to the
core, Logan says, "my bad."


However, with the two others facing each other, Donato's nursing
instincts come into focus and prepared, springing into action, he's
there with a arm slipping in between Lance's left arm and the flank of
his bod, around the back to catch, if he should fall.


"C'mon now," he steers Lance over to a chair, "no need to get upset.
I've got your back."


Meantime, Logan is filling in Ritchie, "this like happens, even if I cut
a finger. Lance is such a baby at the sight of blood."


Ritchie can see, even though Logan has come to terms with it, there's a
jittery repose to him, "I'm sure it's nothing, or else Donato would
have rushed him to the emergency room, instead of sitting him down and
removing a sneaker?"


His sock was slightly moistened with blood, which then had Logan caving
in, "I hope he's gonna be alright, Ritchie?"


Playing on Ritchie's affections, whether heartfelt or trying to garner
some sympathy, Logan leans half on the bed.


Donato did had a grip on the situation, grabbing a pair of gloves and
after expertly fitting both to his hands, carefully removes Lance's
sneaker, "oh yes, you've got quite a scrape there, Lance."


Leaning back in the chair to achieve the height of lifting a leg off the
floor, Lance looks down his own bod, thus discovering, even in the face
of seeing blood, his crotch has a slight bulge!


Down on one knee to inspect Lance's foot, once he's removed the
red-spattered sock, Donato is all smiley inside, now that he's done a
quick inspection, seeing it's only a deep scratch, "well, upon first
inspection, this is quite a deep wound."


"You think I might need stitches? Cause if I do, you're going to have
to put me under, doc."


Donato smiles. It wouldn't be the first someone mistook his professional
bedside manner as a doctor and not that of a nurse. Of putting Lance
`under', "I don't think we will need to go to that extreme of
sedating you, but we might want to go with a local anesthesia." And
driving a point home, "but that would require the advice of a doctor."


He was really thinking of the calming effect of his hand wrapped around
Lance's tool!


"Okay, if you say so," Lance reads the brass badge pinned on,
"Donato."


Doctors had a more elite engraving on their tin badge, Donato flashing
his medal at Lance, "nope. Not quite. We nurses don't rate brass. In
fact," he tests the integrity of the name badge, trying to bend it, "I
think it's made of aluminum."


In no time Donato had some gooey medicine applied to Lance's wound and
an oversized bandaid, with the diagnosis, "the good news, I think
you're going to live!"


"Wow," Logan's whit kicks in, "unbelievable, Lance didn't faint!"


Standing up for himself, or maybe wanting to impress, to dispel the fact
of being a woos around the sight of blood, "for the record, I've never
fainted."


"Of course," Donato helps in the coverup, "it's only natural to be
lightheaded at the loss of blood."


"Really? You think that's been my problem."


Smiling, Donato says, "I'd bet my reputation as a doctor on it!"


All smug in smiling at each other, which seemed to relight the candle,
extinguished by Lance's bloody foot, the mood changes when visitors
enter the room.


"Steven, what're you doing here?"


Answering Logan, Steven advances to the wheelchair and rustles Logan's
head of hair with a hand, "just making sure you're friend here is still
in the land of the living."


Not only for himself, but Logan liked the idea Steven was accepting of
Ritchie, placing a hand on his forearm and saying, "how you doing,
Ritchie?"


"Great."


Right behind Steven was another familiar face, but other than the police
uniform, a means of identification of his profession, the badge he wears
states, "you remember the off duty policeman who helped you get around,
Logan?"


Not only Logan, but Ritchie was all eyes, studying not only the badge on
the officer's chest, "you holding out on me, Logan?"


As Steven makes small talk, welcoming the cop, so does the young couple,
"me? Holding out on you Ritchie? Nah, but even if I was, I'd be willing
to share."


After Steven welcomes his buddy and patient, often meeting with police
officers who have psychological baggage to get off their chest, he turns
to the bedridden lad.


However, Logan, in his own quirky sense of saying so, "hey, Officer
O'Shea, back to get more of your hands on me?"


Joking, the handsome cop retorts, "yeah, just couldn't get enough of
that muscled bod!"


Hardly, Logan not being able to workout like a regular guy, but his
physical therapist managing to keep his muscles in working order, "I
could only wish being as hot as you, Ricky."


Right before he approaches the bed to give Ritchie the potted plant in
his hand, he turns to the nurse down on his knees, "hey, Donato, how's
it going?"


Reading right through the greeting, Donato looks up, says, "in your
dreams, Rick."


People would never realize, unless stalking the pair, how they would
strip down at a secluded location, seedy motel in another town, Rick's
patrol car parked at the wooded picnic spot, or even a quick trip to
either of their living spaces, to closely explore their feelings for each
other, quite contrary to what they exchange now. As it goes, they go with
whatever the moment dictates. At times it's Rick leading the way, but
winding up on his knees with Donato's shaft on his tongue, or vice
versa. On a whim, Donato might have the urge to be handcuffed to the top
of the bed, or it could be Rick, stripped naked, and sitting in a chair,
wrists cuffed behind the back. Either way, one or the other man was a
prisoner to the others sweet ministrations, before they erupted with
sweet slime oozing out in streams of pleasure.


But not at the moment, Rick there to bestow upon the man of the hour,
"I'm here to enforce this order from the mayor, Ritchie," he hands the
patient an envelope.


"What's this?"


Logan quips, "ya gotta open it, dah?"


Taking it from the officer, Ritchie tears into it, "oh my god!"


"What? What? What?" Logan steals the letter away. "Oh cool," he
announces to the room, "they want Ritchie to throw the switch at the
downtown lighting ceremony. Cool, I told you you were going to be
important, Ritchie!"


Of this, no one could be more touched than Lance, seeing his brother not
only loving man, but it returned, nothing short of the real thing.


Ritchie says, "but am I going to be able to do it, that's the
question?"


"Heard the doc say," Donato approaches, "you'll be up on your feet in
no time, but there's no reason why you can't be there in a chair."


For a jailor, `the chair' might mean the end of life, but to a nurse,
they left off the mobile part and just called it the `chair', a vision
of hope, that a patient was graduated from a bed to a chair.


"Cool, Ritchie," Logan exclaims, "we'll be like a real couple, as
equals!"


As he is gloating, the florist delivery guy walks in, "uh, where should
I put these?"


In both arms the bouquet and plant only serve to add more to his busty
uniform, Logan saying, "how about right over here by us?"


A man in his late forties, he comes close to Logan and Ritchie. Even
though his eyes were checking out the two, his composure dictates a more
professional manner, "uh, where would you like to have these put?"


Ritchie loved the chub look, eyes feasting on the v-neck of the florist
delivery man's fuzzy chest, from what he could view, "the closer the
better!"


Maybe he should not have been so direct, but it was not like the cute cub
was a stranger to such comments, "the closer the better, right?"


Logan suddenly got fake-serious, "hey, what about me?"


The name tag read, `Jose', Jose saying, "hey, don't worry boys,
there's plenty of me to share!"


Logan was surprised of his guess, "you're gay?"


Setting the flowers on the bed, Jose places them right in the alleyway of
Ritchie's crotch, the plant directed at Logan, "why don't you hold
this?"


There was nowhere else for plants nor flowers, every surface taken by
those already delivered.


"Okay," Logan says, "put it here."


Jose took the bait and as he set it down on Logan's lap, the back of his
hand senses something meaty!


Then they are interrupted again by someone entering.


"Oh," Jose says, "before I don't get the chance, here's my card, in
case either of you," he snickers, "or both of you have a question about
how to take care of the plant."


Logan laughs, "don't worry We'll be in touch. I'm a houseplant
killer!"


Ritchie differs, but still garners Jose's attention, "I'm good with
house plants, but this bouquet could probably use a vase, since it's
kind of tickling me?"


Oh man, would Jose rather be the one tickling Ritchie under the balls,
"I'll see if I can find something," he dashes out of the room.


Entering is a man with a young child, and walking right to the patient,
"you must be Ritchie?"


Ritchie didn't really notice the young son, more paying attention to
`handsome dad', "that's me."


"My wife wanted me to drop by," an instant downer for any gay man,
gazing upon a hottie, "with our son to pay a visit," he nods for the
kid to approach the bed.


"My mom made these cookies, but says it's not enough to thank you for
saving our lives."


`Handsome dad' introduces himself, "I'm Brad and well, I know a tin
full of cookies is hardly pittance for what you did for our family
today." He takes a business card out of a vest pocket, "if you're ever
in need of a place to stay, give me a call and I'll show you some nice
places to buy or rent, of course at a discounted rate."


Logan, always out for the glorious part, "does he get a family discount
or something? You know, we're boyfriends, and soon we're going to be
shacking up together, so can probably stand to have a break?"


"Guaranteed, you'll be paying next to nothing."


Handing Logan a card, he reads, "thanks, Sean, I'm sure we'll be in
touch."


There was a lot of silent language, acting out, which surely Sean jr.
wasn't aware of, but Ritchie, Logan and whoever else pay attention to
the conversation, could detect that sooner than later, dad-Sean, Ritchie
and Logan were going to be in close quarters, `doing stuff'!


All afternoon it seemed the case, as someone left, another arrived,
toting flowers, sugary stuff to eat, the room filling up, spilling over
into the trashed half, till it didn't resemble a hospital room, nor the
trashed look of two men acting out their differences.


"Just like I said, Ritchie, you're a hero and it's gonna get around,
people flocking here to meet you."


To Ritchie, even so some hot guys visited him today, the sweetest of them
couldn't compare to Logan.


Soon Ritchie literally tired of the comings and goings, Logan as well
falling prey to the `yawns', started to feel woozy. Lance takes over
meeting and greeting people out in the hallway.


Occasionally, more often than not, Donato would happen by and as they
talked more and more, found they were slowly gravitating towards each
other in more ways than friendship.


"So, what time you get off your shift?"


Donato, "it's not when I'm getting off my shift, but what am I doing
after I get off this shift," his hand planes over down the front of
Lance's shirt, hitting some of the hotspots, nips, all the way down to a
secret brushing of cock and balls.


It's then Lance chances it, at the possibility of losing Donato, but
waiting maybe producing the same, "I can get into some pretty wild
stuff?"


Right on target, Donato says, "hm, does that mean I should bring some
hospital tubing to wrap around your balls?"


"Huh?"


Donato pulls Lance into a more secluded room, one of the doctors'
offices he knows quite well, "don't tell me you've never experienced
the euphoria of having tubing wrapped around your cock and balls and then
warm water run through?"


"No," Lance imagines it, "but if it turns you on, I'm sure it'll do
the same for me!"


The placard on the door read, `Dr. Jared Pliars', but the two were too
busy whisking themselves in, to stop and read.


Then there it was, Donato too turned on to keep his hard shaft from
receding, makes sure the office door is locked.


Turning right back around, Donato's hands were on Lance's belt,
unfastening it, with instruction, "you get the shirt."


Lance loved the directive, beginning to work the buttons of his shirt.


"C'mon, hurry it up," Donato's voice turns gruff, "get that shirt
off."


With his shirt parted down the middle, revealing a layer of fur, Lance
says, "or what?"


"Working over above the waist, before I get equally brutal on that ass,
turn you on?"


"Yes, sir. Certainly, sir. Anything you want, sir."


`The man of my dreams', Lance can only think, unbuckling his belt, but
of the change in Donato's personality, "what's puzzling me though, is
where the change in you came?"


Donato backs off, "I guess you can say I'm a good reader of people."


"Oh, so I'm the match to your alpha?"


"Or," Donato fesses up, "it could go the other way around. I like the
type of man who likes to follow orders, but that's not to say I don't
like taking orders, if you catch my drift?"


Lance smiles, saying, "well you could have certainly saved yourself a
bunch of words and said you are versatile?"


Thinking on it for five seconds, Donato says, "hm, I suppose that's
what I am then. But the question remains, which are you?"


Naked from the waist up, Lance advances towards Donato, "nice of you to
share about yourself, which I'm sure you're not going to run away when
I tell you that sexually, I like to have a little s&m in the mix. You do
know what that means?"


From the whole furry facade, Lance's totally furry frontal assault,
Donato was getting some ideas, "um, do you like the sexual part without
the s&m, or is pain part of your sexual means of getting off?"


Helping himself to lifting Donato's blue hospital top, Lance says,
"first, I'd like to know what I'm working with!"


It took little effort for Donato to lift his arms high, as if hanging
from the rafters.


"Hm, nice." He didn't wait for Donato to respond, Lance helping
himself to the right side of the pectorals, cupping an open mouth over
the left, lightly furred nip.


"Dayam," Donato exclaims, his head dropping back in awe, wonder and
excitement, feeling Lance's tongue play with his nip.


He stops the licking, the lip-cupping, long enough to caress Lance's
face.


"Wow," Lance says, "not only do you have tasty nips, but your a good
kisser too!"


Lance couldn't deny he was a bit nervous and with those earthquaked
nerves rattling, he would often resort to some stooped humor.


Hearing commotion outside the doctor's office, the sound of a key in the
lock, Donato, who is prepared for such incidents, "quick. Get dressed."


They tossed shirt to each other, but of the briefs on the floor, each
grabbed what was nearest, convenient, stepping in.


Time had run out, but upon light seeping in through the chink in the
door, Donato says, "oh, it's you Dr. Pliars?"


He flings the door open enough for the doc to enter.


The doc gives Donato a look as if wanting to say, `what's wrong with
you', but simply states it, "of course it's me. This is my office,
isn't it?"


Smiling was not only because that's the way they were to each other, but
another reason the doc creased his lips up, "since when did you stop
wearing speedos?"


Lance had the time to pull his street clothes on, but Donato, even though
an easier assemblage with hospital blues, had a chance to cover his pecs,
put briefs, no time for the bottom blues.


However, he did know Donato, both on a professional and friends level,
the doctor saying, "so, what were you two up to here in the dark with
the door locked, as if I didn't know?"


Having a gruff manner about him, not only his professionalism, but
expertise at anything medical got Dr. Jared Pliars to where he is today,
chief medical officer at the hospital. On a private level, he didn't
need anything but a commanding manner, long hard shaft and the ability to
order a man to the position he wanted him in.


Lance says, "I should get back to my brother."


Stepping forward towards the door, Lance is greeted by Dr. Pliars' hand
on his chest, "hold on a second there."


Lance couldn't deny that hand on his chest translated to something
sexual, "sure. Okay."


He took it as being asked to stay put.


Donato just stood there taking it all in. He knew from experience, when
the doctor interacted with another man, his place was to keep silent and
observe.


"Starting with right now, you're going to do everything I tell you to
do."


The doctor had to have at least 10 years of age on Lance. Many more years
developing, crafting fetishes, finding an expertise among the various
things which could go beyond yet include, getting a man off. But the
demeanor, more youthful attitude, made Lance feel more like his teens and
not twenty-nine years old.


Right before the accident which killed both parents and severely injured
his brother, Lance had started meeting with a man, whereas it very much
started out like Dr. Pliars, so he was no stranger to being ordered
about, "yes, sir."


"Hm, I like your attitude. Unbutton my shirt."


Then, over Lance's shoulder, "Donato, get the door."


"Yes, sir," he hurried to turn the lock and come back.


A few minutes ago Donato was ready to be the commander of Lance's world
but with the ability to swing back and forth, now became the servant of
Dr. Pliars, bending to his every whim. Though it's only been a few weeks
since he's known Dr. Pliars, they connect very well in thought, words
and dick-to-ass!


Lance could already tell, the doctor's broad shoulders and the way his
chest bulged, the taut stomach, he was a major gym participant. Opening
the shirt, he pulls the fabric out of pants and gazing upon the neck to
navel view, "wow, you're beautiful."


"You think so?"


Lance smiles, "good enough to eat!"


Far as Dr. Pliars was concerned, this was going too easy. Unlike many a
guy, he liked things stretched out. Too, he wasn't used to two naked men
in his presence at once. He had thought about it, expanding his horizons,
but with Donato, he found one was enough to keep him satisfied.


Donato had been at the hospital when Dr. Pliars was annexed to the
hospital staff. From the very first moment, the two had made eye
connection, but it wasn't until later in the week they met one on one,
alone together.


Whenever they passed in the hallway, which for Dr. Pliars was torture, a
strong desire to reach out and kiss and as he liked, mixing some
smooching with a hand contact between the knees!


Decades ago, in his teen years Dr. Pliars had been mentored by a college
football coach. Not in which he was a football player, but hitching a
ride had it's advantages. The coach was, in Jared's eyes, the macho
type who liked to have his way. However, when the coach made a detour and
took Jared to his house instead of the college gym, he found it a little
weird that an alpha type guy could offer him rope.


"I've never been tied up before."


The coach, whom Jared knew by campus gaming, was simply known as Coach
Greene. No one in recent history could ever recall his first name.


"No, the rope's not for you. It's for me."


Looking about the large room at the coach's home, Jared stalled out of
ignorance. He hadn't a clue, other than having seen some movie which had
a guy tied to a chair, or a half-naked cowboy strung up to the rafters of
a barn.


Of what else a rope could be used for, "so, let me get this straight,
you want me to use the rope on you?"


"Right. And when you get me tied down," Coach Greene had already
stripped, "you can have your way with me."


Undeniably, cruising the coach's bod from head to crotch, what lurked in
between the thighs was a substantial endowment. Plus, since Jared loved
to view hairy, naked men, the coach's fuzzy, ginger chest, darker stripe
and the way it massed around his deep navel, the neatly trimmed pubes, it
all was a draw, which got him thirst for not just hand-touching.


On entering his first year of medical school, Jared knew he would be
doing more than hitting the books, his freshman year thought of as an
indoctrination into the world of gay sex, which more had a lid on it,
being brought up in a world where a person was told there was no such
thing as `gay sex', that it was social disease, which could be cured.


"Let me get this straight," Jared already held the rope in his hands as
he watched the naked coach climb up on the sheets and volunteer to
stretch limbs out to the four corners of the bed, "you want me to tie
you to the bed. And then what?"


He had kissed another teen boy, touched the crotch area, but never had
the opportunity to suck or fuck, but knew what the terms meant.


"Correct. And once you get me into that position," Coach Greene shrugs
both shoulders, "I'm yours for the taking."


Jared couldn't deny all that ginger fur was alluring, the main draw, the
darker stripe beginning mid-chest, cutting chiseled abs in half, then
acting like an arrow, pointed at a target.


"Okay," Jared said, in that type of tone that guy doesn't know what
he's required to do.


He finally sits up and like he's never been in this type of scenario
before, "you don't have a clue about bdsm, do you?"


"What was that?"


"Bdsm. Don't worry, you're to the only one, but if you hand me the
cell phone out of my pants pocket, we can fix that."


After handing the coach his phone, Jared, at the time a stranger to the
world of captives and how to treat them, waits and wonders.


At the touch of a number, coach is speaking into the phone, "yeah,
Dontae, I've got a guy here who hasn't a clue what to do to a guy
who's tied up."


There's silence, as Jared waits and wonders, biting a lip out of
nervousness.


"Ten minutes? You got it." After swiping his phone up, Coach Greene
says, "Dontae says he's on his way."


Curious, Jared says, "is Dontae on the football team?"


"Yeah, but a few towns over. I don't play with men I know."


"But you know me?"


"I didn't know you until I picked you up on the road."


"But I've seen you coaching a game at the same college I go to, so
we're bound to see each other."


"Then for both our sakes, I hope you know how to keep a secret."


When Dontae shows, Coach Greene sends him to the front door.


With a slight accent, the cocoa-cream-colored man exclaims, "damn,
you're a hot one. Might just allow you to tie me down!"


He was big, in the height and weight sense, a true footballers frame,
which had Jared guessing, "tied down and then what?"


Dontae knew the stairway, taking them up to the second floor bedroom,
Jared trailing, but aware of the ass he was following!


From opening the bedroom door, barging right in, Dontae strips his shirt,
"good you called, Coach. I was feeling kind of hyper."


Other than his high school locker room, Jared had never seen a man of
color up closer than he is now. Fact is, being any naked man could be
tempestuous, he learned to not stare. Now he felt he could stare all he
wanted!


"I wouldn't have disturbed you Dontae, other than this freshman hasn't
a clue to bondage, or if I'm not mistaken, what to do once a man gets
tied down."


Standing there, hands on hips, flaunting that slightly haired, wide bod
chest, Dontae says, "have you even ever kissed a boy?"


"Once," Jared says, feeling his face go blush!


"Well, all I can say is, this will be your big chance to explore."


"Explore? Like, how would that go?"


An evil smile on Dontae's face, he renders, "oh, this is going to be so
much fun!"


When they got down to business, which first began with Dontae going
totally nude and not allowing Jared to do for himself, strip shirt,
pants, undies, socks and not without the footballer taking liberties to
taste as he went along.


"Wow, you're awesome, Donate. I like never felt a man's tongue on me
like that."


On his knees after grabbing briefs on the way down, Dontae feels casual
in taking Jared's shaft on his palm, "bet you never had a blow job?"


He was already partially hard, but Dontae feeling him up, "are you going
to do it?"


"Hell no. That's what we've got coach for!"


Jared couldn't help but laugh, Dontae doing the same.


Rising to his feet, Donate says, "but first we need to make coach
`uncomfortable'!"


Watching Dontae get to work, choosing a length of rope, lassoing it
around Coach Greene's wrist and like he wasn't a stranger to bondage,
"you look like you've done this a million time over?"


"Not quite that many, but yeah, maybe hundred times."


By now Jared's cock was really ticking, "care to share a few steamy
stories?"


As Dontae threads the rope up and over the wrought iron barrier at the
top of the bed, taking other lengths of the clothesline looking bondage
material, works some loops over ankles, "I never tied a man to the bed
until after that first time he picked me up hitching to class."


"Wow then, maybe it wasn't an accident that he picked me up hitching?"


"Have you ever seen coach around campus?"


"I've seen him a couple of times coaching. I might have seen his car on
the road as I'm walking to or from campus. I live off campus and prefer
the exercise."


"You don't live on campus?"


"Nah, but it's not like my folks can't afford it."


"I see," Dontae says, standing back, admiring Coach Greene, tethered
eagle-spread to the bed. He asks, "so, how do you like the stretch
between the legs?"


Nervous, Jared jokes, "it might be a temptation to do something with
that gaping hole between the legs?"


Coach speaks up, "that's one of the reasons I had Dontae come over."


"This is one thing we don't want."


Jared questions, "what don't we want?"


He watches as Dontae not only picks up his boy-briefs, but lycra
speedo-type  lingerie, "we do what we want to do, not what coach tells
us to do."


"Fuck that, Dontae," coach barks.


"See what I mean," Dontae says as his hands make light work of knitting
together both the speedo-briefs and his Hanes.


"What are you doing?"


"It's called bondage," Dontae says, mounting the bed, both knees to
the sides of coach's bod. "Unless you want to do it?"


He holds the joined briefs by a fingertip, arm held out, inviting Jared
to mount the bed.


It was a huge bed too, most likely king sized, though its never been
said.


Mimicking Dontae, Jared kneels on the bed and knee-walks his way to the
left side of Coach's naked bod, between the side and the outstretched,
bound left arm.


"Okay, but you're going to have to show me how to do it."


"For real?" Dontae says.


It was at this point, a pair of eyes coursing down and then back up his
bod.


True to this feeling, Dontae turns to him, placing a hand behind his neck
and for the first time in his life, Jared gets kissed by a non-white guy,
exclaiming, "I guess there's a first time for everything!"


"Don't tell me, Jared Pliars, you are a college freshman and have never
been kissed?" Dontae acts shocked!


"Oh, I've been kissed, except I think more it was me doing the kissing,
but it's just that...I don't want to sound racial here, but it's always
been a white guy."


Dontae repeats the gesture, taking Jared's neck in his massive hand,
forcing them both together over Coach's fuzzy chest, their lips
entwining in a long, long kiss.


"Hey Dontae, I didn't bring you here for a lesson in kissing?"


Jared is shocked, Dontae breaking off the kiss, taking the massive hand
that draw him into it and with a mighty sweep, slaps Coach Greene right
across his half-hard shaft.


"Akk-k-k-k-k, oh shit, Dontae."


Jared reacts in shock, "dayam, that's gotta hurt!"


At least that's the way it looked, still bobbing around, coach's shaft,
from about midway to the slit, was red looking.


"I think an apology is in store."


Jared thought it was meant for him, "I'm really sorry."


Coach Greene, even though the sting lingers, laughs his ass off, "shit,
that's funny as hell!"


In seconds he's screaming in pain, the second sweep of that massive hand
causing coach to shriek in pain, gritting his teeth, "damn you,
Dontae."


It's then that Jared's real training began, "lesson one, discipline."


"Oh? How's that go?"


"When a boy hurts enough, then he will behave."


That took Jared back a thought or two, "`boy'?"


Dontae saw he had his work cut out for him, "you must forget Coach
Greene is older than us. You must even forget he is a man. He is a piece
of shit to us."


"Isn't that kind of disrespectful?"


Half-cocked smirk, Dontae was liking the tutelage more and more, or maybe
it was the one he was tutoring, regardless, "respectfulness is in the
hands of the master. The one that commands. In this case, there are two
masters."


"Me? A master?" Jared chortles, "I'm an eighteen year old college
freshman. Coach, he's got be about forty?"


"Hey," Coach Greene takes that on the defensive, "I'm thirty-two,
I'll have you know!"


"There it goes, speaking again. What do you think we should do?"


"Um," Jared has to swallow for this one, "slap his dick again?"


"Good suggestion. Go ahead."


"It's a little tough, being his cock is behind my back?"


"Not a problem," Dontae pushes himself around, till balls of his knees
are facing coach's crotch, knees aligned next to the rib cage, feet flat
against he outstretched arms, ball of one foot right in coach's pit.


Doing what Dontae did, Jared moves around, placing himself in the same
position. Only difference, Dontae casually uses coach's abs for a
resting place, an elbow right in the gut.


"So, how do I do this?"


"First things first," Dontae says, lining Jared's lips up to his.


Strangely, Jared didn't think he would dig it, but finds himself kissing
back.


Breaking, Dontae says, "you are a good kisser, Jared."



"Oh boy," coach says in frustration.


"Am I supposed to punish coach for that, I mean the boy?"


It still felt radical to Jared, a grown man a `boy' to him.


"Of course."


Coach gets adamant, based on how he and Dontae have role--played, "he
didn't tell me I couldn't talk?"


"Manners, boy!"


"Oh shit," Jared says, after having witnessed Dontae's massive fist
come down like a judge's gavel, pounding coach's stomach!


"Ughhhhh!"


No sooner had coach reacted, Jared sees something rather amazing, a spurt
of come shooting out of the tip of his hard shaft!


So astounded is Jared, "did you see that?"


Tormenting coach, Dontae starts at the base and circling coach's slimy
shaft, works his hand to the flange, making it bubble over with semen,
"you ain't seen nothin' yet!"


"Oh no...no, no, no, no, no," coach repeats over and over, Dontae's
hand, lubed with pre-cum, slides down, then up and down.


"If you wanna see coach blow a really big load, grab both nips and
pulverize them."


Not thinking he heard right, Jared says, "do what?"


It was sheer torture to have his shaft worked, but then again, the same
effect, when Dontae loses the grip for demonstration purposes, latching
on to both coach's nips, "let me guess, you never touched another
man's nips?"


"No. Haven't."


"Go ahead then, you work his dick and I'll take care of these."


Jared had a lot of firsts that day. In addition to  kissing a hot, older
man, he pulverized his first set of nips, stroked cock until it bubbled
over, and at one point, as Dontae pulled and twisted coach's nips, by
way of his mentor's instruction, worked the slimy shaft while sinking a
finger deeper and deeper into coach's ass tunnel.


"I'll give you first choice, you want his ass or mouth?"


Now which Dontae could feel doubt about it, "don't tell me you've
never fucked a guy?"


"Nope."


Dontae knew all the ins and outs, so when coach adamantly stresses, "I
don't want no freshman poking his thing where it doesn't belong!"


He knew it meant just the opposite, so Dontae says, "which means he
wants you up there."


"But he said..."


"You want to do his ass, or mouth?" Dontae tries hurrying up the issue,
based on he knew coach wouldn't be lasting long and a hard shaft is a
terrible thing to waste.


"Um, uh. I don't know."


"Very well," Dontae crawls down to where he can lift coach's legs onto
his own shoulders, "sit on his chest and feed your cock down his
throat."


However, as Dontae lifts coach's legs, lines up his shaft with the hole,
he has a change of heart, "no. Wait. Stand and turn back around this
way."


When Jared does as his mentor requests, he's left with, "but my dick,
it's like, right in your face?"


So, that's how it went, Dontae stuffing his shaft in to the hilt, while
Jared filled Dontae's mouth. He was amazed how something slow and
staggered worked its way into a synced operation.


Like hell did coach want to do a crunch, but even with his tongue
sticking out of his mouth he couldn't reach Jared's hairy ass.


Both Jared and Dontae came within two seconds of each other, Dontae
resorting in kissing Jared's lips, instead of sucking down his cream.
Instead of down Dontae's gullet, Jared's cream shot out, sputtering
against the fucker's chest, streaming down, adding to the lubed mess
below. Then, with a sigh of relief, the then young Jared's legs caved in
and coach's tongue finally got it's taste of hairy ass.


Fact of the matter, as Dontae was pulling out, because he suddenly had
the urge to shoot his load all over Jared's fuzzy front, he got the
brunt of coach's spunk. A double whammy, only minutes apart, he was not
only tasting Jared's semen, but now coach. The erupting spunk, which he
also was not only the cause, but effect, ropes of cum, until he fell
forward between the parting coach's legs. Of course this meant Dontae
also had his first taste of a man's cock, even though Jared had spent
his load.


Between then and now, the two have met, Dontae teaching Jared everything
there is to know about bdsm play.


From there, Jared has gone on to spread the knowledge, in particular,
onto Donato, who now has successfully conquered others. Of them is Tom,
Mat's partner at the yoga studio. Between them, Dontae and Jared keep it
secret, the ritual developed, whomever comes first in the 6-9 suck-off,
the one with the pent up reserve gets to fuck the other.


Dontae is always amazed at how Jared manages to make him cum, then from
force of habit, it the one bending over doggie-style. Friends for life,
they keep it secret to this day, Jared the only one who has ever
conquered Dontae's ass.


(Oh, but now `you' know too!)


%


% Copyright 2023 T. Chase McPhee


Developing segments of 'YoGA MaT' may not be amended, distributed, sold,
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