Road Trip

By T. Chase McPhee

Published on Jun 2, 2008

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, in towns, cities, nor governmental areas, which the story is stages. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offences you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. Sexual safety matters. This is fiction. Use protection, in real life.

ROAD TRIP trials & tribulations wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

It couldn't have been a better ending for much needed recreation, Robbie swallowing every last drop of Anthony's hot load. After showering, Robbie made no attempt to dress himself. Hightailing it to the laundry room, he returned with Anthony's dried clothes, helping him to get him into them.

"I'll never forget this... coach," he reverted back to reality.

"I hope you mean that in a good way, Robbie."

"I do. I told you. I think too much of you to ever hurt you," he replied, buttoning up the last button on Anthony's shirt, tucking it into his pants, zipping up and buttoning the last closure. "Oh, your belt," Robbie said, snapping his fingers. In seconds he was feeding it through the loops. "Arms up," he called out when feeding it through, walking around Anthony's bod.

"I don't even get this type of service at home! You're spoiling me, Robbie!" However, when Anthony lowered his arms, they fell over Robbie's, making him question the attachment he allowed himself to become with one of his students.

"Aren't you supposed to kiss for the last time when the date is over?"

Trying to talk himself out of it was futile, as Robbie did what he wanted.

"I had a great time," Robbie said as Anthony walked towards the door.

Anthony left it at, "Thanks. Don't forget to lock up," and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Robbie took his time cleaning up. Walking back to the shower room, he stood spread-eagled, closed his eyes and pictured the feeling of his back getting whipped. He moaned as if it actually happening. Thinking of the bare body behind the whipping towel, slowly his right hand dropped to below his navel. In moments he had another mess to clean up!

%

"I thought you would be home by now," Nicholas greeted Anthony, coming down the stairway, as his old friend walked in the door.

"Got tied up at the university," he replied, picking up envelopes from the little table, sorting through the mail without paying attention.

Peering over Anthony's shoulder, Nicholas asks, "Anthing for me?"

Throwing the mail on the table, Anthony says, "We've gotta talk!"

"Uh-oh," Nicholas replied, adding, "I was to meet Randy at the pool, but I suppose Tino, Jorge and Sep can entertain for awhile."

"I'm sorry, Nicholas but I've just got to get this off my chest."

At first Nicholas sat on the bed, until he had to stand. With a little touching action he broke through the barrier of reluctancy, prying the first few words out of Anthony. The conversation batted back and forth, Nicholas trying to picture the whole scene, formulating in his mind what kind of advice he was going to render.

Backing up, Anthony spilled out his whole day, rushing to the hospital, driving Edwin to the emergency room, meeting Dr. Kiinski, visiting with Barry, leaving and arriving at Applegate, Anthony paved the way to his encounter with Robbie. "And that's what went on for two fucking hours!"

"Well one positive thing is, at least he sucked you off and you didn't do him."

"And why would that matter?"

"Just one last little detail that didn't happen," Nicholas said, which was not much of a consolation considering everything else.

"I... I just don't know how everything will stand up when I tell Roberto."

Nicholas asks a stupid question, "Are you going to tell him?"

"Use your brain, Nicholas. Would you keep something like this from Randy?"

"There's one big difference between you and Roberto and me and Randy."

"Which would be?"

Putting his arm around Anthony, who winced, Nicholas withdrew the comforting arm, explaining, "Roberto knows you're into bdsm. He as much as gave the go ahead for you experience it whenever the feeling hits. I'd say he would be comfortable with it. On the other hand, if it were I informing Randy, well I wouldn't blame him for kicking me out on my ass. Get the picture?"

"I suppose," Anthony replied, still skeptical.

To add a little humor, Nicholas offers, "If you want I'll listen at the door in case I have to rush in an break up a fight?"

"No.. no.. If it ever came to that I would already know the guilty one. I'd stand there and let him beat me to a pulp."

"I don't think that's the kind of pain which would turn you on Anthony."

"I know, but at least I'd feel somewhat vindicated."

"Is Anthony... oh there you are!" Roberto said, standing in the doorway after opening it the rest of the way from a little crevice.

"How was your day, dear?" Anthony asked, getting up from the bed where he sat next to Nicholas.

"Not bad. I'm tired."

As a way of excusing himself, Nicholas informs him, "The gang's still out at the pool if you want to take a refreshing dip?"

"Nice silhouette," Roberto joked, seeing Nicholas in the buff, light from the hallway highlighting the important parts of his anatomy, as it streamed into the nearly dark room.

"I'd offer you a taste, but you have to get in line behind Randy!" Nicholas left with his failed attempt at humoring the couple.

"I can't wait to get out of these clothes," Roberto said upon entering their room. "Well," he continued, rather dramatically, "wait til I tell you what happened today!"

As Roberto went on to talk about the college dudes entering the cafe shirtless, the owner having to tell the two about the `shirts required' policy, the scene which followed, the two giving his boss a hard time, telling him there was no sign posted, then rattling off their contained rights as if readying it right out of a textbook. "Are you listening to me, Anthony?" Roberto questioned his attention as he stood there in the buff, scratching his chest.

"Sure. So what was the verdict, sweetheart?" Anthony asks, sitting down on the side of the bed, still in his khakis and buttoned down shirt, making no attempt to dismantle his clothing.

"Well," again the drama picks up, "'somebody' went and called the cops. Your good cop-friend, Erik Carlson shows up..."

Anthony cuts right in, "That scumbag ain't no friend of mine!"

Overriding his lover's comment, Roberto says, "Apparently there are others who share your same idea. Anyway, Carlson and another police officer come to Mr. Cooper's defense, Carlson stating a general interpetation of the law which already governs apparel to be worn in public restaurants."

"So Carlson and his sidekick hauled the students off to jail?"

"No," Roberto laughs, "you should see their faces when Carlson issues them each a citation. Can you image being fined fifty bucks for going shirtless in a public eatery?"

Already with a mark against the police officer, Anthony says, "Well in my own opinion, I don't see any fault with going shirtless in public, except if it's into an establishment which serves or sells foods or beverages. Except maybe a gay bar or club. But two college guys, he should have offered a warning and left it at that."

"Of which Mr. Cooper gave me these!"

Crawling across the bed, Roberto comes up behind Anthony, two ticket stubs in his hand, flashing them in his sweetheart's face.

"Owwwch!" Anthony says when he leans over his back.

Jumping backwards, Roberto sinks onto the balls of his feet. "What'd I do?"

Repositioning himself, Anthony turns to face his stringbean lover, though not so stringy down yonder. "I've got something to say. I'm not sure if you're gonna like it. If you want to get a divorce, I don't blame you."

"Divorce? We're not even married!" Then, making a joke out of it, Roberto says, "You've made me a man living in sin!"

Not humored, much, Anthony asks, "Sweetheart, can you just be serious for a moment?"

Tickets still in his hand, they've become second nature, as Roberto `doggie-walks' across the kingsized bed, sitting indian-style in front of Anthony. "Something happen at work today? You didn't get fired or anything?"

"No. Nothing like that."

"Well what is it then?" Roberto asks, waiting for Anthony to get his words assembled.

It came soft and deliberate, yet with a tinge of guilt, "I... I did something with a student."

His thumb and finger released the tickets, letting them fall onto the comforter. His peppy attitude looking like disaster hit, he questions, "Did something? What do you mean?"

As a tool to help him explain, Anthony stands, unbuttons his shirt and removes it.

"What are you doing?"

Holding the shirt in both hands, he turns around.

"How did your back get all red?" He asks, again walking across the bed, dismounting onto the carpet, a hand feeling the glowing red back. "I can guess what these are," Roberto forms an opinion when tracing a finger along one.

"I don't think mine are as bad as his."

"Oh I get it. You did some s and m stuff with somebody, is that it?"

At least part of the truth didn't cause any yelling and screaming, but Anthony braced himself for the more important part. "Right. We kind of got into a match, each of us taking turns doing some whipping with wet towels."

Coming out of his slight depressing mood, Roberto says, "I don't see anything wrong with that. You remember me telling you you could still play around if you wanted to. So what, two guys daring each other with a couple of wet towels? I don't see any harm in it." As Anthony's head hung low, like he was looking at his toes, Roberto asks, "There's more?"

"A lot more."

Fright came over Roberto, asking, "You didn't hurt the guy, did you? I mean enough to send him to the hospital?"

"No nothing like that. I didn't give him more than he could take. In fact he wanted more."

"Then what's the problem?"

"He sucked me off."

"You mean like gave you a blowjob?"

"Right," Anthony replied, still one more detail to add. "We swore to each other we would not tell another living soul, but you know I couldn't go another day keeping something from you."

"So you told me. I don't find any problem with what you told me, Anthony."

The last little morsel of information escapes from his lips, "It was a student of mine who sucked me off."

"Student?" Roberto questions.

"Right and you might as well know it was Robbie Sinclair."

Not sure how good or bad this was, more mixed up in thought, Roberto's ass hit the bed, shaking the whole wooden frame.

"I just had to tell you. No way I could keep something like this from you," Anthony replied, sitting on the bed next to him, a couple of feet distance between the two.

"What happens if he says something to somebody?"

"We both gave our word," Anthony states.

"Yes, but you've told me. What happens when Robbie tells Barry. You know Barry has a hard time keeping anything to himself?"

"I know. There's nothing I can do about it now. If Robbie tells Barry and Barry lets it be known... I guess I'm screwed." The two sat there in silence for an interval, before Anthony levels with his lover, "I understand if you want to up and leave me."

A hand on his khaki-covered thigh made Anthony look up.

"Somebody's going to need to be around to give you moral support."

"You... you're not going to leave me?"

Before cracking a little smile, Roberto says, "How would I be able to live up to my marriage vows if I did?"

Anthony again apologized profusely as the two hugged each other.

%

Being born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Robbie spent more time than a person who knew what they were doing, to mop up and do laundry. By the time he tossed the mop into the bucket, back in the jon, he was sweating bullets. "Oh, I should really take a shower," he said to himself, but found it more erotic smelling his own perspired, hairy armpit. Walking through the shower, he bent over, leaned outside the wide doorway and looked at the clock. "Seven o'clock?" he questioned himself, recalling the time he started, around 4:30. "Time flies when you're having fun!" Turning to walk back into the showers, he stopped dead in his tracks, hearing someone pounding on the gym door. Looking down upon himself, sweat covering his chest, stomach and further on down, he stopped to listen, hoping the intruder would take leave. "Shit!" he said when the mystery person again picked up where he left off with trying to get into the gym. He tried thinking about what options were available to cover his loins, all towels in the wash, along with his gymshorts and tank. It's then, in one of the cubbies he spotted a basketball. "It'll have to do," Robbie said, reporting to the door. Flicking the tab to unlock it, he leaned over, basketball covering his pubes, except for a bit around the edges. "Damn Jayab! I thought for sure you were going to crash your way in here!"

"I forgot my track sneakers. I need to..."

More like forcing himself in the door, rather than waiting to be admitted, Jayab stood there, looking at the basketball, mashed up against Robbie's pubes.

"I'm not... disturbing anything am I?" he asked, now casing the outskirts of the lockerroom.

"I'm all alone," Robbie replied, seeing where Jayab was headed with all his questioning.

"Um, maybe you want to play some one on one?"

"Worst joke I've heard in years, but I'll let you slide." Robbie replied, accompanying Jayab to his locker.

Opening his locker, Jayab cries out, "Omigosh!"

"What?" Robbie nudges shoulders with the six foot-three athlete, an inch taller than himself, as he peers into the locker.

"They're not here! I wonder where they could be?" Jayab questions, his attention set on Robbie standing next to him, forearms touching, Jayab feeling the sweat rubbing off.

"What?" Robbie asks, when his attention too wanders from locker to Jayab.

"I hear the other guys tell another you reek', but I... now don't think I am weird', but I like it."

"Like what?" Robbie inquires.

Drawing on his knowledge of metaphors, Jayab replies, "If you were an ice cream on a stick, I would maybe like to lick you?"

It didn't come out quite the way it's been used over and over, but Robbie got the point.

"So, you're into raunch, are you?"

"Wrong..ch?" Jayab spelled it out phonetically, the best match he could make.

"R-a-u-n-c-h.. raunch," Robbie reiterated.

It's then Jayab laughed.

"What's so funny?"

Somewhere during their conversing, the basketball had migrated to Robbie's hip, one hand clutching it. Discovering his interest, Robbie looks down upon himself.

"I see maybe you like this raunch?" Jayab asks, a toothy grin appearing. "Maybe I like it too if you tell me what it is?"

Smirking, Robbie already figured it wasn't the raunch creating a bulge in Jayab's gymshorts. Still, he felt obligated to educate his fellow athletic collegue. "Ranch. Like licking a guy off as if he was an ice cream cone?"

The two stood there, facing each other, Jayab challenging, "Maybe I try it?"

"Go ahead. Knock yourself out," Robbie was game, raunch being a new field of exploration, something he was sketchy about, but turned on to.

The basketball went bouncing away to it's own destination, Robbie sighing, throwing his head back when Jayab's tongue touched the top of his left pec.

"I think you like, no?"

"Shut up and keep licking," Robbie dictated as if the one in charge.

Spying some hair leaking out of Robbie's armpit, it's an area Jayab yearned to explore. Taking Robbie's left wrist, he lifted it up til it extended above his head. Tilting his head, a lick over the coarse hairs made it's owner whimper.

"Oh fuck!" Robbie called out, falling, his back plastered against the lockers.

As if following a lead, Jayab pinned Robbie's wrist to the locker. Getting into it, he made an `mmm' sound when his lips formed around the hairy pit, sucking at it as if an orange. Suddenly he stopped, looked down, as did Robbie.

"Oh, sorry," Robbie said, pulling his hand away from Jayab's crotch.

Jayab's reply to Robbie was taking his hand and placing it back on his cock.

With the invitation standing, Robbie not only went back to work handling Jayab's 10c, but dove right into his gymshorts, finding the division between briefs and skin. "Sorry man," he apologized to Jayab, "but I gotta have this!"

Robbie's arm dropping, so did his body, right to his knees, a hand taking Jayab's blue gym shorts with him. He didn't understand what Jayab said in his native tongue, but it didn't matter as Robbie let the head of his cock slide in between his lips.

%

"At a time like this I think you are in need of a friend."

"So you're not mad at me sweetheart?" Anthony questioned Roberto, looking into his eyes.

"I probably should be, but the more I think about what happened, it's no big deal Anthony. Now the matter of doing with a student of yours, well I'm not so sure what will happen if this gets out."

"I suppose I should be thankful you aren't leaving me... at least just yet."

"Come here, stupid," Roberto says, hugging, then kissing.

%

2B continued...

Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection without prior written permission, by the author.

Next: Chapter 50: Dusk and Dawn


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