A Nifty Little Tale

By T. Chase McPhee

Published on Feb 10, 2013

Gay

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in any state (21yo in Alabama, Mississippi, Wyoming, Nebraska), or in most countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.

Following, pages of this story contain adult material', intended for an adult audience'. Bypass this warning at your own risk.

% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.

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Hey dudes, remember, Nifty needs your donations to provide these wonderful stories. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

FYI: I don't get a hefty paycheck from NiFTy at the end of the month. I write about horny dudes because it helps get my rocks off. Take your hand off your stick shift for a minute and dig into you wallet. It's costs to keep these stories coming to you.

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A NiFTy LiTTLe TALe 19 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee

^o^

"I thought this was supposed to be a `date', Virgil?"

Though, Kevin wasn't totally bent out of shape by Virgil suddenly remembering his nephew was on the train, due in at the station, tonight, at, "Well," he says, "look on the bright side. We have until 8:05 to pick him up?"

Looking at the clock on his dashboard, Kevin replies, "Oh goody. We have fifteen minutes to get you hard. Now, there's a challenge!"

"Um, like what do you think one hand on the wheel has been doing to me since we left Manfredi?"

"You got a point there, Virgil."

"I know. See?"

"You idiot! Get that butt in the seat before you cause an accident!"

Of course, they were b.s.ing each other, Kevin reacting to Virgil, slipping his seat belt off, thrusting his torso upwards, putting on display for the whole world, with his tented jeans!

"At least `you' would remain in control," Virgil tells Kevin.

Smiling, Kevin replies, "Just to let you know, I didn't need your hand to keep my stickshift engaged?"

"Hmm-mm, maybe then," after fastening his seatbelt, Virgil leans over the seat-level controls.

To thwart his plans of licking Kevin's zipper, the car phone rings out a nice tune.

"Yes?" Kevin answers `the car'.

Virgil says of the car, acting like the encasing for a cell phone, "Nifty!"

Out loud, it's Jordan's voice, "Hey, Kevin. Can you talk?"

"Keep it clean, Jordan. I've got Virgil here in the car?"

It was open season for slinging the jokes, Virgil saying, "By all means, Jordan, speak freely. I love dirty sex talk!"

"Listen, um, I came with one of my college students to the cafe..."

Kevin asks, "Gruber's Cafe?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"We just passed it!"

"Do you think you can make a u-turn?"

Virgil says, "You're not going to leave the kid stranded are you?"

"Kid, Virgil? Really...

"Kid, as opposed to `our' age, Kevin?"

"Let me remind you who the senior member of this car is?"

"Four years younger? Big deal, Kevin, but I think I already proved I can get it up as hard as you?"

"Oh, so we're measuring `age' with how spunky we can be now, Virgie?"

"There, that proves your trying to hold onto youth?"

"Hold onto youth? Now where did that can from?" Kevin refutes, turning into Grubers' parking lot.

"Well, you'd much rather go fishing for a 24yo, like Jordan?"

"Oh my god, Virgil, you're so jealous!"

"Never mind," Virgil looks out the dashboard window, "here he comes. It's over."

Kevin sat there behind the wheel, after shifting it into park, staring at Virgil, who pay him no mind, looking out his window, like there was more to see then the next two parking spaces empty.

"Thanks very much for the lift. I hope I didn't put you out, Kevin," Jordan says, unknowingly the object of their discussion.

"No problem at all," Kevin replies, "we were passing by."

"Hey, Virgil," Jordan calls from the back seat.

Virgil replies with a somber, "Hey."

"What're you, sick or something?" Jordan asks.

Kevin replies, "Yeah, he's sick of me!"

"I'm not sick of you," Virgil replies.

Of course, with Jordan in the car, they could not very well pick up from where they left off.

Rather than dwell on it, Jordan says, "Anyone interested in hearing how my `Identity Through Language' study group went?"

At the same time both answer, "How did it.... go?" looking to each other.

Virgil puts an end to Kevin's interest, "Mark's train pulled into the station five minutes ago!"

"I suppose that's my fault too?" Kevin asks, backing out.

"Oh, I see. You two are fighting about something. I can be a good mediator, if you want to share?"

"How good are you at keeping a secret, Jordan?" Kevin asks, looking through the rearview mirror.

It was weird, giving something for Virgil to think about, wondering where this was going to go?

"I am a fully trustworthy person, though it's me just saying, because you haven't trusted me with anything. Yet, trust me, people have trusted me with stuff and I've come through."

Not meant to break the ice, Kevin says to Virgil, "You get what he said?"

Giving Kevin a disgusted look, Virgil says, "More credible than something `you' would say, Kevin!"

Suddenly "Oh shit!" Kevin yells, throwing his arm across the car, to brace Virgil from jumping forwards when he brakes suddenly for a cat.

"Oh my god!" Jordan says, looking between both seats. "Kevin saved you, Virgil!"

"Could be, but I think the seat belt helped?" Virgil made excuse.

Jordan jokes, "What a man will do to touch another hot guy!"

Cashing in on it, Virgil replies, "Oh, so you think I'm hot?"

Kevin says, "I don't think Jordan arranged for that cat to run in front of the car for your benefit, Virg?"

"You didn't seem to mind leaving your hand feeling up my left nip, Kevin?"

"Really? In case you're wondering, I was more thinking about your head going through the dash?"

Even though it could be anyone's gut reaction when foot hits the brake, Virgil decides to use it to mend the friction, "Oh, so you really do like older guys?"

Pulling into the station, Virgil doesn't answer, shifting his attention off to a few people waiting for rides, "There's Mark."

"Are you twins?" Jordan asks.

"Thanks there, Jordan," Virgil exits the car.

"What'd I say?"

"Nothing," Kevin gets out to open the trunk.

Jordan following, "Sounds like an awfully big tiff for nothing?"

"I think Virgil is transitioning through midlife crisis."

"Wha-at? He's too young to even think about it," Jordan says.

Instead of the older dude on the platform, Virgil comes back to the car, laden with luggage, a younger guy following, of which he says, "Guys, this is my `young' nephew, Mark. The much older guy is Kevin and the younger one, Jordan."

Watching Jordan and Mark react to each other, Kevin knew it was writing on the wall for himself. Getting into the car, ahead of Jordan and Mark, he says to Virgil, "Hey, I'm sorry I inferred you were an old man. Wanna fuck around tonight?"

"Apology accepted. Only if I get to control your cock?"

"Really?" something surfaces beyond their time together last night, "I didn't know you had a mean streak in you, Virg!"

"I'd much rather think of it as," Virgil philosophizes, "bringing the best out in you, Kevin, with a big send off?"

"I'll believe it when I see it."

For now, their crazy talk was put off, Jordan landing in the back seat the same time as Mark, almost klunking heads.

^ o ^

Waking up, Jason deemed himself a mess, his hand still attached to his pasty pubes, his other hand feeling up his stomach and chest to find out if he was still `wet'.

He admits to himself, "I reek!"

It then begins to register, waking up, but not with `morning' streaming through the blades of window treatment.

"Don't tell me I slept through happy hour?!"

Even though the sheet started at his knees, they were down around his ankles, more acting like shackles. Shucking them, took an enormous amount of seconds, but then freed, Jason headed right for the jon.

Throwing both palms to the sides of his face, Jason's eyes were as wide as saucers, looking upon the amenities, remarking loudly, as if someone was there, listening, "A hot tub just my size!" he exclaims, sitting down in the dry basin.

Playing with the faucet, he shouts out loudly, like maybe almost the whole campus heard, "Yeow!"

Not hot water splashed on his legs, but freezing cold!

Quickly, he closed off the pouring into the tub. Once again, more with calm, he tried, but no matter which way he turned the faucet, it still came out cold. "Where's the plumber when you need him?"

It's then, Jason had a flashback to the gym, Jeadi standing there... "Mm-mm, now there's a man!" he said, carrying on, instead of dreaming his night away.

Stepping out of the hot tub, he stepped into the shower, pulling the glass door across. "Oh what am I, stoopid?"

He laughed at himself, thinking, if the hot tub didn't have hot water, neither would the shower.

Walking naked to the kitchen, he found the same thing.

Then he found the phone, a directory right beside it, a placard with plastic coating. "Like, oh my god, did I luck out or what?" he reads off everything and more a person could get at a 5-star hotel.

Instead of the amenities, he skipped over to `utility problems'. Dialing, he thought maybe this is a direct line to the nearest plumbing dealership. Maybe a young, hot stud is on duty? Maybe...

Instead, there's a quick rip of words, "Yeah... Jeadi Yousoufian."

`Oh man this is gonna be fun!', Jason had a sudden urge to prank, "Yo Soufy!"

"Soufy?" he immediately followed up with, hearing the line go dead.

"Jeadi, it's me. Jason. Hello? Jeadi?"

He instant-redials, "Yeah... Jeadi Yousoufian."

"Hi Jeadi. It's Jason Croft. Remember me?"

"Jason, yes. As I recall you are a funny guy?" Jeadi tells him.

Knowing he was snagged, Jason says, "Did you recognize my voice, Jeadi?"

"Not until you called the second time and said your name?"

"Sorry for joking around, but there's no hot water," Jason runs his ideas together.

"Oh, so because there is no hot water you have to joke?"

Getting down to business, Jason says, "Do you know where I am?"

"Um," it was Jeadi's turn to get even, "The men's room down at the station?"

"Yeah right. I don't have any water. Can you come find out why?"

"Okay," Jeadi says, "I will be right over."

After hanging up, Jason forgot to tell him he wasn't in the dorm, redialing.

"Yeah... Jeadi Yousoufian."

"Jeadi, I forgot to tell you where I am."

"I know. At the station."

There was a short interval of silence, Jason pondering his next move, saying, "I'm in a cottage, in the forest, last one..."

"Manfredi cottage. I know," Jeadi replies.

Thinking about it, now that Jeadi's mentioned it, with all the comforts of Paris Hilton's home, "Uh, right. You coming now?"

"Five minutes, give me?"

"Four," Jason teased.

He didn't count, but in what he gauged as about that amount of time, Jeadi was dropping the heavy brass knocker on his door.

"Don't you look snappy?" Jason asks.

In the interim, Jason had thrown on a pair of briefs, Jeadi making comment, "Compare to you? I am over dressed!"

Laughing, Jason says, "Well do something about it, man!"

"That's why I am here. You are not getting any hot water?"

First thing Jason thinks, Jeadi can be pretty tricky. Though, no more than himself, deliberately keeping the dress code to the minimum. Rather than a cleancut observation, Jason chooses the long, drawn out route, "Of all times, I had just woken up from a wet dream and sat my ass in the hot tub and when I turned it on, got sprayed with cold."

He could still see some residue on Jason's chest, "Cold water will clean up a whack off just as much as hot water."

Smirking, Jason knew Jeadi deserved it, "Or a wet tongue?"

Standing there in the lux lavatory, Jeadi asks, "I don't want to get my Hawaiian shirt dirty. Mind if I remove it?"

"Do I mind, Jeadi? Do I mind?"

Locked eyes, they smile at each other.

With his shirt off, Jason observes, "Watch when that water comes out, it'll splash all over your pants, Jeadi."

"Oh, then maybe I should take them off too?"

Jason was enjoying the hairy legs, not minding at all if Jeadi shed his shorts, "Your call. I was just warning you, that's all."

"Thank you for the warning."

He thought Jeadi would not follow through, but instead saw him unbutton the beltless shorts!

Wasn't any different than the shower at the gym, however in his own abode, sneaking some looks, he didn't mean to say it, but it just came out, "You don't wear briefs?"

"Not under loose shorts. Now let me fix this so we can fill the tub."

`Hmm,' Jason loved the way the plural sounded.

"I have to go outside," Jeadi says, grabbing his shorts.

He couldn't help it, had to look, seeing Jeadi stand there, his feet in the two leg pockets, sweep the shorts up from the floor, then apply them to his ass cheeks. He only bothered to button the top one.

Jason watches as he buttons them, but doesn't, "Don't blame me if something flops out?"

Jeadi replies, "You think I have a lot to flop?"

"Like does Lindsay Lohan like Kombucha-toddy?"

Jeadi looks at Jason, like he's a dork...

"Forget I mentioned it."

In a matter of two minutes, Jeadi was back inside, saying, "There is a wrench hanging from the unit. All it takes is a turn and hot water will coming in any minute off the main system."

"Hmm," Jason watches, Jeadi making himself comfortably, "looks like you know your pipes, Jeadi!"

"I think I should stay to make sure you get hot water."

"`My' pleasure!" he said, whether Jeadi heard him or not.

Helping himself, Jeadi walks over, steals the Tv control and turns it on, "I think tennis is on."

"You're a tennis fan, Jeadi?" Jason slips his briefs off, evening up the score.

"No. I like watching Djokovic take off his shirt!"

"Like Raonic, myself!" Jason replies, sitting with a blank seat between them on the leather sofa. However, when he sits, because his butt is bare, it makes a farting sound.

An instant reaction, Jeadi looks at him, catching a glimpse of his crotch first. "If you want me to see, you should fan your legs like this!" he spreads'em!

"You know what Jeadi?"

"What?" the game plays on.

"Those have got to be the biggest balls I've ever seen!" Jason exclaims.

"Yes," Jeadi feels free to capture them loosely up in one hand, "it the most complaint I get."

Jason could only guess, the `how-to' of getting those both in a guy's mouth at one time, "And how do they remedy it?"

"What can you do?" Jeadi slaps both hands together, making a `clap', "Either one sac at a time or if I am lucky enough, one mouth for each sac?"

"Yeah, right Jeadi and I bet a third dude on your cock?"

They smile at each other, Jeadi revealing his lie, "None of it. If I meet with a guy it is only one guy at a time."

"Dyslexia?"

He's a learned man, he knows, Jeadi replying, "No. Rarely I meet with a man. Most of the time it is solo jerk."

"You're being so personal with me Jeadi. It doesn't bother you?"

"This is an interview? You are going to email this to Anderson Cooper?" Jeadi replies.

"Hmm. Maybe!"

"The hot water, it could be hot now," Jeadi says, getting up, Jason watching his ass move towards the lavatory.

"Hey, Jeadi?"

"What?" Jeadi asks, testing the water flow.

"Never mind."

"Now I get the feeling you want to ask me something, but maybe it will embarrass me. You can ask. I am open person."

"I didn't mean to scope you out, I mean, it's kind of tough to see through all that hair on your chest, so you know I've been checking out..."

"I will take that as compliment."

"I don't want to ask about anything sensitive," Jason replies.

"It is okay," Jeadi looks down at his own chest, back up, "you want to know how I got these scars?"

"I guess it's better you've said it. Yeah, I was kinda curious," Jason says with apology.

Smiling, Jeadi says, "It is warm. Shall we try it out?"

Not wrong in his thinking, Jason didn't think twice about the offer, "Sure."

However, they behaved, Jason on one side of the tub, Jeadi at the other end. Still, at times they stretched, toes touching toes.

"They come from when I was in Pakistan. I was with friends at underground gay club. They raided us and took us, but said if we decide to pick one, all others can go free."

"They can do that?"

"Does not sound humanly possible," Jeadi replies, "but it happens."

"How many were there?"

"About thirty, but the guards, they were interested only in us young males. I was 19 years old."

"Oh my god," Jason filled with remorse, sliding his butt along the circumference of the almost perfect circular seating arrangement. "And they all voted against you?"

"No. I volunteer, because I am the oldest," Jeadi replies.

"They were all eighteen or younger?"

"Both. It is not the question I give myself. I know I have to do this for them."

"Stop. If this is going to be uncomfortable for you Jeadi, don't say anything else," Jason says, sitting an arm's length away.

"I am okay with it. I have talked about it with human rights campaign people. It is not good they torture me, but it helps me to become martyr for those who it still happens to."

"Torture? Like, how... never mind."

"I tell you."

"You don't have to."

"Okay. Only if you want me to, because then you can be witness like others I have told."

"You got a point there, Jeadi."

So, the minutes ticked by, Jason inching closer, listening to Jeadi speak of being held while two guards punch him in the stomach and the balls, hang him by the wrists from the ceiling and whip his back and chest, tie him eagle-spread to a table, attach wires to his cock and balls and shock him.

"Lucky for me, I did not know this, one of the men at the gay bar is from affluent family. He get me out of jail or else I would be dead."

"I suppose they don't tell the truth of what a prisoner dies from?" Jason sums up.

"You are smart," Jeadi looks to Jason, on his immediate right.

"Does it still hurt?" Jason asks, putting a finger on a place he sees a scar, right through Jeadi's dense hair mat.

He could have shucked it away, instead says, "No. Does not hurt. You make it feel good."

Seeing Jeadi's pecs just break the surface, the tiniest of nubs, "I know what feels better?"

Thinking of Jason going underwater, Jeadi replies, "No. I don't think we should go there."

"Me neither, but I thought about here?"

It was the first time he beeped a guy without saying it. But this wasn't an ordinary beeping. He smiled, gently massaging Jeadi's nips, listening to him exhale in a snaky tone, drop his head back.

"Do you like it harder?"

"Anything you want to do to me, I am yours to do, Jason."

Pulling on Jeadi's nips, Jason reels himself forward. He goes to kiss, but Jeadi pulls back, dropping his head backwards, as when Jason tweaked up his nips!

"I guess down there and way up here are both off limits," Jason ceases the nip action.

"We should not become involved."

"How about some water?" Jason stands, water rushing off his bod.

Taking notice, Jason `in his face', Jeadi replies, "Water would be refreshing."

When Jason returns with 2 Voss' Jeadi is fully dressed, saying, "I think it best I go. Thank you for the relax time."

Not making excuses, Jason just left it as, "No problem." But there was, like `Houston we've got a problem!', Jason was stiff again!

^ o ^

Mark Dent has lived as long as humanly possible alongside his family in the midwest, counting the days before he set out on his journey of freedom.

Purposely, his family made him stay in the same town he grew up in, the foothills of the Rockies, in order to save on college dorm fees.

Not which Mark didn't mind it much, driving his pickup to and from the college, about an hour of solace. It gave him time to appreciate music, scenery and was the probable cause for choosing anthropology over other areas of interest.

It was quite by accident, but not misfortune Mark stopped to help a man with a flat. So beholden, in return for his kind deed, Mark was able to go where men would not risk their lives to travel into the Rockies. The mountains held pages of history, of which Mark recorded much of what he saw and explored.

Not coming without other rewards, when Mark play the good Samaritan, he didn't know Jeremiah Phillips would be the key player in his future endeavors.

Member of the park service, the 32-year old was enroute to a small cabin in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains.

Dressed in a flannel shirt, even though it was summer, Mark bothers to ask, "How long have you been waiting?"

"Um-m-m-m," Jeremiah scratches his beard, looks up at the sun, compares it to the horizon, "maybe 2 hours."

"Long time to be baking out in the sun?" he wanted to suggest Jeremiah take his shirt off, but Mark dashed those thoughts away as wishful thinking.

"Us rough mountain folk, we learn to take it."

"Well, should we tackle that tire?"

One of the things which hit Jeremiah at the beginning, not only the fact Mark didn't allow his looks, long, reddish brown hair, plus his build, could probably top the height of a bear, as well pass for one, if he were standing there without a shirt, and just the general scruffy appearance... Most didn't want to stop.

Secondly, Mark was a real go-getter, went at what had to be done. Good thing too, because as they were putting the finishing touches on the tire, it clouded up.

Looking into the air, Jeremiah predicts, "Hasn't rained in quite a spell. If it starts coming down like cats and dogs, we're going to have a washout on the county road."

"You know all that by looking into the sky," and as Mark has noticed, "and scratching your beard?"

"We better be going, if you don't want to get caught driving in the downpour."

It seemed urgent enough, Mark reporting to his truck, starting it up and like the sky and Jeremiah's beard has predicted it, he follows Jeremiah's lead.

True to Jeremiah's words of wisdom, as they reach the other side of county road, it was a deluge.

"Watch," Jeremiah got out of his jeep, hung at the window to Mark's truck.

After only five minutes, they watch the traffic back up on both sides of the gulch, Mark asking, "It really works." He couldn't touch the sky, but could run the back of his hand over Jeremiah's beard.

Grabbing his attention, Jeremiah warns, "Careful. You don't know the real power of this beard!"

"Um, does it have the power to get my truck on the other side of the gulch?"

It was scary, traveling at the side of the gulch, but it seemed, Jeremiah whizzing up the road gave Mark the nerve to follow without fear. He rejoiced, when Jeremiah took a right turn, heading west, away from the gulch. He was glad he had a truck, because the road eventually did not resemble a road!

Expecting a log cabin, he was blown away, approaching a modern building, cement, with a variety of windows.

"Nice place, Jeremiah!"

Jeremiah smiled with excitement, thinking `wait till he sees the insides!'

True to his thinking, Mark replies to what he sees, a canoe suspending from the high ceiling, other weird stuff, "This is like so awesome!"

"Beer?"

One beer down, they were uncapping a second as Jeremiah pulled some dinner together.

"Just what is it you do for the park service?" Mark asks, opening a book about cliff-dwellers.

"Oh, a variety of tasks. Mainly keep tourists in line, so they don't overstep the boundaries and ruin what took centuries to build up. Mainly, a way to preserve is to conduct guided tours. That's where I come in. I know these hills like the back of my hand."

"Sounds like fun," Mark replies.

"No," Jeremiah jumps in, "`fun' is rescuing some tourist, who is accustomed to city streets and not a series of mountain ranges," he comes into the library, instead of yelling long distance across a half-wall.

Mark looks up when he feels breathing on the top of his head.

"Ah, the Anasazi, mainly prehistoric ancestors of the Pueblo Indians," Jeremiah notices the title at the top of the page, hanging over the back of the chair Mark is sitting in.

"Mainly," Mark looks up, smiling.

"What?" Jeremiah inquires.

"You like the word, `mainly', do you?"

Acknowledging, `yes', Jeremiah says, "Mainly."

He laughs, which incites Mark do the same.

"Really, I hadn't a clue until you mentioned it?"

Closing the book, Mark takes the last guzzle of his second bottle of beer, "What else do you do around here to keep yourself busy?"

"Into porno?"

"Really?" Mark follows Jeremiah, from above his head, around the side of the chair and to the wall.

"One can't be too safe out here in the sticks," Jeremiah says, pulling a bookcase out from the wall.

"How ingenious!" Mark describes the setup, an HD Tv adhered to the rear of the bookcase, shelving with DVD's.

"Go ahead. Pick one which interests you."

Until now, neither had mentioned anything regarding the other or themselves as being anything but straight.

He's seen trailers, but never a full length porno movie, Mark, getting an idea of the selection, instead of asking right out, says to Jeremiah, "These are all gay porno movies!"

"I guess that tells each other about us?"

"You knew all along, didn't you?" Mark accuses, but nicely, smiling. He had 2 beers down. He wasn't used to drinking alcohol!

"The power of gaydar!" Jeremiah laughs it off.

"Well, maybe I don't have it, but I was wishing you were.... gay and all."

"Oh? Why would that be so important?" he play into Mark's hands.

They stood face to face, a DVD case in Mark's hand.

"You've probably been with guys, but this... This is my first time I've been alone with a guy who is gay!"

"Virgins! I love `em!" the 32yo muscle bear jokes.

"I know this sounds like a line from a porn movie, but... Would you mind if I unbuttoned your shirt?"

"Mark," Jeremiah says, "It wouldn't be the first time a man has unbuttoned my shirt. Do whatever you want."

Testing, Mark asks, "Anything?"

Jeremiah liked it all, so probably anything a `virgin' wanted to do would not be anything to his disliking, "How about I'll let you know as we go along?"

"Cool. Hold this," Mike hands him the DVD he's picked out.

"Backyard BarBQ at BillyBob's. An oldie but goodie. Mainly all sucking and fucking, but it's all good," he's watching each button being unfastened.

"No, you've got to get involved, make a man feel good as you're doing it," Jeremiah prompts, taking Mark's hand and placing it on his hairy pec.

"Oh wow!"

"Like a hairy man's chest, do you?" He asks Mark.

"Yeah, but also... Like, I felt it not only on my hand?"

Jeremiah didn't wait for permission, reaching down and feeling Mark's pants, "I'd say so."

Busting him, Mark says, "But you didn't ask!"

"I know," Jeremiah replies. "Mainly, when I see what I want, I just go after it."

"Why would you want a guy almost half your age?"

"I could ask the same. You got real comfortable feeling up my pecs?"

He did, Mark sliding both hands into the almost completely unbuttoned shirt, sweeping both over and over the hairy pecs, stopping a minute, "Are you sensitive here?"

With his mouth pivoted in an `o', Jeremiah sighs, "O-o-oh, am I! Harder!"

"What?" Mark giggles.

"Pinch them harder, but keep an eye on my pants."

"On your pants?" Mark looks down, then up.

"Yeah. Happens every time, electricity traveling from my pecs, right down to my balls. Wired!"

It makes Mark laugh, saying, "Are you sure?"

He meant fingertips, not nails, but Mark thought it what Jeremiah talked up, "Here goes nothing!"

Jeremiah howled, feeling Mark's fingernails dig in around the nubs of his nips, "Ow-w-w-w-w-oo-oo-oo-oo!"

He let go, immediately, saying, "Did I hurt you?"

"Hell yeah!" Jeremiah laughs, "real good!" He laughs some more, saying, "but you didn't check my pants!"

"I know," he says reluctantly. "Like, I never touched another man there before."

Rather than explain, Jeremiah figured he let the `BarBQ' do the job, popping it in.

"Might as well get comfortable," Jeremiah says, peeling his shirt off.

"Beautiful!" Marks says of the nicely formed pecs, the pattern of hair covering, all converging to form a stripe down Jeremiah's padded abs, looking to enter and exit his dark navel, and continue under the... "You're taking your pants off too?"

"Of course. Whoever heard of watching gay porn and not being prepared for all the juicy parts!"

Mark watches as Jeremiah unzips, "Oh god you're big!"

"Getting there," and meant to inspire Mark, "What about yourself?"

"I guess I should start with this," he strips off his tee shirt, "I'm not as hairy as you!"

Mark laughs, Jeremiah stepping over to him, his pants at his ankles, studying his chest, "I can probably count them all on my fingers!"

In a `mood', especially after 2 beers, Mark felt a little more adventurous and with comfort, reaches in front of him, tweaking up Jeremiah's nips again.

"You little sneak!" He says, but doesn't do anything to stop Mark's fingers and thumbs from playing with his pec spots!

"Oh yeah, now I see!" Mark gets the hang of it, how to make a guy hard, the electric way!

"Ooh don't stop!"

Mark stops!

"I told you not to stop!"

"Doncha want to save it for near the end of the movie?"

Jeremiah ponders it for all of a few seconds, "You're right."

Mark wasn't so sure about what it meant for himself. It even grew harder to do so, with Jeremiah, leaning over, and without even asking, thought it was all right to open his mouth, swallow Mark right down.

Soon the movie was imperative, he and Jeremiah behaving very much like the two men in the porn flick, one taking the other one down, stopping along the way, applying more spit, splitting time between mouth and hand.

"Looks like I'm the one who's gonna come!" Mark says.

Like it's nothing, Jeremiah asks, "You want to fuck me?"

Mark surprised himself, with his first sexual escapade with another man, a man almost twice his age at that, whom he met only a few hours ago on the road.

Yet, Jeremiah so willfully turning his ass on Mark, he wasn't at all reluctant to follow through. After all, it's not like he hasn't seen Paul Wagner give it or take it.

After sinking in, with a little spit added for lube, Jeremiah asks, "Are you sure you haven't fucked a guy before me?"

Mark says, "I watch a lot of television!"

He meant gay porn, but as his 8c sunk more and more up to the hilt, there were no more complaints nor words from either one, except those vocal, feel good words which accompany hot man2man sex!

After Mark came, which he decided the best would be to pull out, he came all over Jeremiah's back, which when he collapsed, splattered his own cum in all directions, his own smooth chest and abs feeling the warmed goo. Yet, so tuckered out, he felt too drowsy to get up, whispering in ear, "Jeremiah, you okay?"

"More than okay, but uh-oh!"

"What?"

"I think I smell the lasagna burning!"

Both getting to their feet, Jeremiah rushed for the kitchen.

Mark hung back, his hands on his own bod, rubbing the greasy goo into his skin. He coated both pecs and as he found out, his own nips could be quite sensitive. However, it was the smell and the feeling which treated his senses like scented oil, a rich, luxurious aphrodisiac being massaged into his skin, thus marking his first time doing a man.

"I hope you like burnt lasagna!"

"You got a place to wash up? I'm feeling kind of yucky!"

As Jeremiah ran away, he looked back, saying, "My, don't you look like a sight!"

Mark could only imagine, what with both hands soaked with cum, but not only his chest and stomach plastered, his hand feeling up his slackened cock. Coming into the kitchen, still trying to make his salami come back to `life', he jokes, "Might have to let that lasagna burn a little more!"

"Mmm-yummy!"

It would be one of the things which amazed Mark, Jeremiah exhibiting a craving for cum, like an insatiable appetite for the warm, gooey stuff. He would laugh, seeing Jeremiah, after he's shot his load on himself, watching the bearded park ranger lap it up off his chest, stomach, clean around the base of his cock... Clean as a whistle!

"Yup," even in the early stages of their relationship, "can't get enough of the stuff!"

Sitting in the back seat of Kevin's car, Mark would not be able to name it, what made him think of Jeremiah, his one sanctuary, the man who kept him from going over the cliff of insanity and then felt a dull ache, thinking how he was taken away by one of those flash floods.

"What's the matter?" Jordan sensed something wrong in the `force'.

"Nothing," Mark shoved his thoughts aside.

He didn't want to feel too imposing, Jordan saying, "If and when you ever want to talk about it, I have open ears. And oh, you don't have to worry about me blabbing anything around. I keep my mouth shut!"

It made Mark smile a bit. Sometimes Jeremiah could be like that, in fact uttering the exact phrase about keeping his mouth shut. Exactly how Jeremiah could be, he wondered how Jordan would be if in Jeremiah's shoes, keeping secrets from a whole town and beyond.

Part of that story arose, Virgil yelling into the backseat, "By the way Mark, did you ever get around to telling your folks about our little secret?"

Mark opens up to Jordan, "I managed to keep `being gay' a secret my whole life, except one guy I told," like in a fog, "yeah, he was something."

Jordan caught the dropped word, `was', but like he thought, wasn't prying. When and if the time came...

%

Copyright 2013 T. Chase McPhee

`A NiFTy LiTTLe TALe', and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.

Next: Chapter 20


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