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Give till it hurts...and if that's not enough, get with some s&m!
'YoGA MaT' o9
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
Next morning, Phillip woke up on the sofa. After a yawn and rubbing his eyes, he slowly drifted into reality. Thinking, he couldn't convince himself it was anything other than a dream. He thought how ropes crisscrossing his bod, starting with the anchor, wrists behind the back, tied so he could not keep his bondage-master from doing what he likes. The object of Alton's tying him up fancifully, ropes crisscrossing his bod, adding the final touch, roping around the outside, then tightly binding both balls. He was brought back into the reality of last night, remembering how Alton looped the rope round and round his balls, moving it down the center, separating both sacs. He couldn't recall who, but it wasn't Alton who was teasing his teen nips, before applying clamps, which sent his mind and shaft into outer space!
His nips still swelled and stung with a touch of both hands, "ooch! Ah-ah," he cries out.
Strangely though, as he thought about it, he had the same chain reaction, the pain coursing through his loins, and as it reaches his dick, it's automatically transformed into pleasuring!
Suddenly Phillip had to piss something fierce, trying to recall which way the bathroom is, "left? Right?"
Choosing straight up the hall, to the right, he walks in. He has to laugh, the vanity full of unused condoms, others tossed on the floor, still oozing out!
Then he remembers why he's there. With no clothes to detach from his bod, he's whizzing away, sighing from relief. After flushing he stands in front of the mirror.
"Oh shit," he exclaims, seeing lines painted across his chest, over his abs. Following the red lines, they are painted all the way down to his legs, going to the left and right at precise distancing, until disappearing between his cock and balls. It took a matter of squatting to take a look down under, discover the same remnants of Alton's bondage technique, which he can't recall the rope had passed through his ass-crack!
He stood, sighed, "whew," as if the emotional kick was still within him. He then notices a stripe over his shoulder. Feeling an itch in the turning of a shoulder, Phillip peers at the reddened stripes across his back, recalling, "oh yeah, that's right," he remembers Randy now, how he used him as a painter's pallet, painting both down and across, using a soft leather strap for his painting tool.
Not only himself, Phillip remembers it now, how Nick, tied up and unable to fight off their bondage, were on their knees at the side of one of the lounge chairs. Chests pressed into the cushion, Randy's strap came across their backs.
It was funny now, not then, Phillip remembers Randy doing all the work, whereas Alton stood, watched, drunk his beer, as his non-drinking hand toyed with his loins, working him up to where he shot his load.
"Shot his load," Phillip talks through it, turning around to try to glimpse his ass, but no, there was no evidence, instead noticing dried goo all over his back, like wallpaper paste.
He then recalls Alton, reaching down, taking his hard shaft in his hand, milking him, with the wording something like, 'oh yeah, he's loving it'. Trying to reconnect thoughts of last night, Phillip feels his back, right hand over left shoulder, left hand on scooping up his balls. He smiles, thinking on not pain, but the pleasure each stroke of Randy's hand produced, Alton's hand driving him on.
At this point he wasn't thinking much of Nick, other than Elton and Marc had come to stand by them. Enjoying their cocktails, they mock on about Nick's bondage, unable to touch himself, yet squirming to massage himself, with no success.
Marc said he felt sorry for Nick. Elton, having drunk as many Margarita's as Marc, suggested he lay down on the cement, then proceeded to coax him into getting into position.
"Yeah, that's it," Elton coaches Marc, "now, make sure his shaft can slide right inside without having to use your hands as a guide."
Garbled, by Nick's shaft-tip already between his lips, Marc says, "ygh meen ike dis?"
Elton could tell something was flowing, from either Nick's shaft or Marc's saliva buildup, "yeah. Now, wrap your arms around Nick's legs and use it to your advantage so your rock Nick in and out of your mouth."
He spits Nick out for a minute to say, "you've done this before?"
"Not exactly. When Eddie and me got together, that's how he told me he was going to do it."
"Oh," Marc retakes the steps to fill his mouth with Nick's swollen shaft.
Seeing where allegiance lies between boyfriends, Elton is taken aback when Randy says, "hey, get your cock inside Nick, if you need to jerk off!"
Elton thought of a couple of things, but since he was saving all of himself for the one he was with, "ah, no, but thanks Randy. I gotta save all my juices up for my bitch!"
Marc was shocked, to say the least. Even though he was feeling the tip of Nick's shaft tickling his tonsils, he presses hard against thighs, causing a void to say, "really, El? I'm your bitch?"
Elton had shocked himself, saying in an apologetic manner, "I swear Marc, I don't know where that came from!"
"Don't apologize. I love being your bitch!"
It made Elton laugh. Here he had a dreadful thought come over, only to realize he had jumped the gun, "really? How sweet of you to think so."
"Enough with the mush, guys," Randy switches off from flogging Phillip to grabbing Nick by the ropes over his back, pulls him right onto his massive 7c and rigorously stuffing him to the hilt.
Even though a rough thing, Marc had done a Warrior event, so could wiggle his way under the lounge chair, coming out the other side.
Elton was there to greet him, looking down, a smile on his face, "hey, bitch," he handled his hard on, "ready to get bitched?"
"Get bitched?" Marc says.
"Yeah," Elton says, "entering my bitch, isn't it getting bitched?"
They laughed at the sillyness of it, but instead of a public 'bitching' they took it inside the house.
Phillip thought a lot on all that happened last night. He tossed around in his mind who turned him on the most, Randy? Alton?
Walking back past the upstairs bedroom, he peers in, expecting to find the master of the house and sure enough, there lies Marc, Elton cuddling up behind him. But that's not all he spied upon, Tom and Mat in the same positioning!
The whistling drew his attention back to downstairs and like the Pied Piper, allowed the tune to lure him out back. He had raised brows, seeing 'the piper', a guy at the side of the pool fishing stuff out.
He happens to see Phillip before Phillip sees him, "must've been a helluva party last night."
"Who are you?"
"Maintenance. My worker called out, so I get to clean up."
He was paying attention to plastic cups, pieces of food and other stuff, which should've been in some guys' stomach, or the trash, but when he looks up, "oh my, aren't you someone's prize possession!"
They didn't need to confess, 'I'm gay', 'me too,' something hidden deep in their souls realizing it.
"I'll say," Phillip looks upon the 'lumberjack' appearance, a man in jeans, checkered shirt, unbuttoned down the middle, baseball cap on backwards, thick dark hair protruding from each side of the hat, the dark brown beard.
"The name's Duncan," he stands there, using the pool net as a crutch, "and how did you come by those lines on your bod?"
Coming around the pool, Phillip stands there, trying to get a glimpse of what the shirt is hiding, "aren't you hot with that shirt on, Duncan?"
"Yeah. In fact, I'm kind of hot all over. Why don't you get over here and help daddy off with his clothes?"
"Daddy?" Phillip laughs.
Sarcastically, Duncan, still using the net as a staff to lean on, "I can pretty much guess how you got those stripes. Didn't do what you're told?"
"Oh no. In fact, I guess you can say I went beyond the call of duty. The stripes, they're kind of fringe benefits!"
Not which Duncan hasn't 'played the game', "fringe benefits, eh?"
"Nick too."
Duncan questions, "Nick?"
"Yeah. We were tied up in this Japanese rope stuff, made to kneel, over a lounge chair and Randy whipped us. Well, he whipped me. Nick, two other guys came over and found an interest in him. But his boyfriend got jealous and switched his attention from me to Nick. Still, I had Alton to play me like his bitch!"
"Hm," Duncan says, "I'm sorry I wasn't." The fear of something of ownership grasping at Phillip, "so, this Alton, he's your boyfriend?"
"Hell no. He's not my type."
The beard says, "so, exactly what is your type?"
Even with the shirt on, Phillip able to tell, "you."
Silent, not thinking what to say, the pool guy stood there.
Phillip, standing there, fiddlin' with his cock, says, "so, you want me to strip you down?"
"Well," Duncan approaches Phillip, "it's obvious I can't do the same for you."
He didn't wait for Duncan to say more, Phillip twirling a finger.
Taking the signal, Duncan turns around.
"By the way, sir," he knew the lingo, "my name is Phillip, but you can call me anything you want."
Duncan didn't know about that, but sure knew this young guy sure knew how to strip a guy, "oh yeah, Phil," he croons, shirt falling from shoulders, Phillip reaching around from the back, cupping hairy pecs in hands, thumbs reeking havoc with nips!
In his business, of general maintenance, landscaping and pool cleaning, Duncan has acquired quite a bearish physique, muscled, not chubby, which gives him the ability to grab Phillip up in his arms, carrying him over to a lounge chair.
Placing Phillip there, he goes for his belt, being interrupted, "I can do that, daddy."
"You learn fast, Phil," Duncan stands with hands on his hips, until Phillip is readied to drop them off the hips.
A phrase Phillip has learned ages ago, having sucked many a men to completion, says, "I aim to please!"
Phillip isn't choosy, having worked over small cocks, big shafts, boa-sized, has learned how to take it down the throat, pleasure a man forcing it up his ass channel, which comes with learning to please, "ready?"
"I was ready at the pool," Duncan says, laughing it off, like it was his own inside joke.
Phil doesn't wait for briefs to fall.
"Damn, boy," Duncan exclaims, Phil working his cock right through his briefs.
With haste to speed up the action, Duncan thumbs his brief, peeling them off over his hairy ass.
"Oh yeah. You know, you're quite exquisite, Dunc?"
In his youth Duncan latched onto a guy, became serious, only to have him cheat on him. Tearing his heart out, it left scars. Years later, he hasn't given up hope, which in returning Phil's compliment, "you're quite exquisite yourself, Phil."
Phillip loves it, Duncan rubbing hands all over his fuzzy chest, stomach, tweaking a nip, handling balls.
In contrast, Duncan's fuller bod, all hairy like is opposite Phil's lithe bod, maybe the hair on his chest and stomach making it look heftier.
Beyond the sex, Phillip says, "you Irish?"
"Scottish," Duncan says.
"You've got an accent, so that's why I was wondering."
"Do I?"
The prolonged chat gave both time to discover each other's bod, both enjoying feeling up each others hairy bod. Phil knows Duncan's two pleasure spots on his pecs, so works with it!
Thinking on his past life, the abuse and the only way Phillip could make friends, standing there and taking it, "whatever you want to do with me, you can?"
"Do with you?" Duncan stands there still running hands over Phillip, mainly working his shaft.
"Yeah," not sure, but Phillip goes with it, "I can take a lot pain, if you're into giving it?"
Last night was more kidding around. Phillip wasn't kidding now!
"Oh really?"
Phillip smiles, when Duncan doesn't hightail it out of there.
However, his latitude and longitude were off, Duncan saying, "dont mind if I do."
All that touchy-feely stuff turns to Duncan grabbing Phil up into a hug, pressing his lips to the college man's face.
"That's not exactly what I meant."
"Oh, I know what you meant."
"Then how come you didn't do more than kiss me?"
Sure of himself, Duncan says, "because I went with my gut feeling. My gut was telling me get to know this guy first and then take it from there."
"Really?"
Phil was astounded. His last encounter with two men who were older, maybe Duncan's age, was in Wyoming, at a ranch he and John came upon. It was kind of strange, stripping John down, but only having him tied with arms and legs in eagle-spread fashion, himself the object their toying.
"Yeah," Phil thinks of that night in the barn, "I'm used to a lot more."
Much as he was geared up for a blowjob, Duncan had a compassionate side, which now was showing,"what is it you're trying to say, Phil?"
Shrugging both shoulders, Phillip felt he had indeed gone to far, instead of cuing a guy in slowly. Yet, Duncan hadn't picked up his clothes and left, "it's a long story."
When Duncan came in the back gate, saw the condition of the backyard, the pool, he knew this was going to be a long morning, "time I've got, being the pool is going to have to be drained and refilled. So, what's on your mind, Phil?"
Phil sat down on the lounge chair, Duncan next to him, "really, you won't believe the things I've been through."
Duncan rattles off a little history, "before I started my business, I was a high school guidance counselor. Trust me, there isn't a story about young people that I haven't heard and if there is, most likely it's not going to shock me. So, what's your story, Phil?"
Standing, Phil takes a few paces, finally saying, "I don't know where to begin."
Actually, in his mind, Phil was thinking of why he is on his feet, even explaining how life has gotten him this far!
"The beginning is usually a good place?"
Suspicious, the way Phil grew with everything, living through mistrust of friendships, family, "why do you want to know?"
"As a guidance counselor, the job goes beyond advising on academic placement. The 'counseling' part, it's more like the job a psychologist does. Most of the time my job was about counseling young men."
"Just men?"
Duncan says, "well, that's how it usually goes in an all-boys school!"
"Oh, you didn't say."
"You didn't ask."
It seemed like a stalemate, when it was only a stall, Duncan provoking Phil into recalling the past, "tell me about yourself."
"Now you sound like a shrink."
"Have you ever spoken with a shrink?"
"Yeah," the outcome seeming to be not a good prognosis.
People fascinated Duncan, one of the perks of being in a business which dealt with many clients, "still, I'd like to know your story, if you're willing to share?"
"I don't know," Phil was still reluctant.
"I also counsel college athletes."
"College, you got that right, but I'm no athlete."
Duncan could have guessed that, Phil tall, but lithe, his physique portraying that of an ectomorph. He didn't let it go unnoticed, Phil unabashed by allowing his shaft to hang down over a nice set of orbs!
"It's obvious something is bothering you."
"Not just something, but a lot of things," Phil says, feeling more trusting to come closer.
One thing that was bothering Phil, he decides to share, "you want me to take care of that growing ember in your pants?"
Duncan felt it coming on, the space in his crotch slowly growing small, taken up by how he was feeling about Phil, "maybe later."
Phil, being naked, set out to even up the score, "well, can I at least see what you're packin'?"
"My, you have an insatiable desire!"
"Not sure I know what you're meaning by that, but I'd sure like to check you out," Phil smiles, wiggles eyebrows, then darts eyes downwords, back to Duncan's face, "if you get what I mean?"
Suddenly the pool filter makes a gurgling sound, then glug, glug.
"Oh no," Duncan looses concentration, running around the pool.
Watching pecs bob up and down, but other than that, thinks how fit the older guy is, "can I help?"
"In a minute," Duncan says, hopping in the pool, wades and walks through the half empty pool as if churning through thick butter.
Having other thoughts, "well then maybe I should get in there," Phil walks down the steps and doggie-paddles over.
Almost next to Duncan, Phil says, "I think somethings stuck," he reaches to stick his hand in the spout.
"No! Don't do that!"
Figuring words might not be comprehended as fully as actions, Duncan grabs Phil up in a bearhug, his whole bod encased in his arms.
"What tha," Phil says, looking down, seeing furry arms clutching him up.
"I hope I didn't scare ya," Duncan slowly loosens his grip on the twenty-two year old, "but one thing you don't want to do is put your hand in there, because when you pull it out, you might not have a hand!"
Standing on pool bottom, Phil says, "oh wow. I think you just saved my life, or, er, my hand. You know what that mean."
"No. What?"
Even though Duncan's pants were soggy, Phil saw fit to get a grip on reality, "I owe ya and feel obligated in paying up."
Normally, if any man dare to touch Duncan's crotch without permission, whether it be at a bar or the leather club, they better be willing to suffer the consequences. With Phil here, all this back and forth conversation was leading to something, if it weren't for the groaning filtering system, would already be at where they are now?
"I don't think though, I would want to remember my first blow job from you, standing in the middle of this cesspool of," he picks up a carton, reads it, "cherry vanilla ice cream?"
"What's the matter, daddy, don't you like cherry vanilla," Phil closes in on him, a sexy-lover kind of way, rather than a son.
The man just saved him from a life of walking around with one hand, how was Phil to pass up on that way of thanking him?
"Me? I'm more of a butter pecan kind of guy."
As Phil edges towards him, Duncan began to get cold feet, saying, "oh look, a whole stack of waffle cones is floating by."
Phil didn't care.
Duncan did, not quite ready, after five years being out of a relationship with a younger man, not sure if he wanted to tango!
"Maybe we should take this to a more sanitary location?"
"There's a shower in the cabana. I know because I sucked one of the guys off there earlier."
Duncan realizes, not only does Phil seem to have an insatiable desire to keep his tongue wet, but also proud of his achievements, in the doing so!
"That sounds fantastic. Why don't you lead the way, Phil?"
"Cool, dad," Phil says.
It makes Duncan smile. On leather club evenings, down at his favorite darkroom aka, one of his leather buddy's basement, a lot of young guys pin that label on him. Outside of that environment, Duncan wonders how long this tenderfoot will last. Though, being led to the cabana and following 'that ass', he saw potential!
Whereas at the club, he has the upper hand, Duncan gives in to Phil's whims, "stand there and put your hands behind your head?"
"Me? Put my hands behind my head?" he questions authority, but willing to play along, "okay, then," Duncan assumes the position, going beyond, moving feet shoulder-width apart.
"Okay, now hold that pose."
Duncan smiles, thinking he instructs a guy at the club to do the same, for the purpose of interrogation, finding out what he is and is not into, which has him offering, 'you want to know what I'm into?' Sometimes a dude knows exactly what he wants, some skeptical, others naming stuff they put on their wish list, but were putting standards too high for pain threshholds.
"I take it you're into what those Wyoming cowboys were into?"
"Uh, yeah, maybe later."
Duncan stood there, feeling his arms start to give in, but straightened up, knowing what he expected from 'his boys', "well, are you going to just stand there?"
"Don't rush me," Phil says, "I'm thinking."
'Hey, you stole my line,' Duncan thinks to himself, putting the pressure on a guy by simply doing or saying nothing!
What Phil was thinking, that maybe there was something more here than a blowjob and protein shake, "you ever been in a relationship?"
Creating a stalemate, Duncan used to calling the shots, "you going to tell me about those Wyoming ranch hands?"
With prolly less patience than his 'daddy', with a little utter of sucking his teeth, he gives in. Talk and going at Dunc's belt buckle, all at the same time, "I know John was scared shit, but when I saw what they were into, it was more exciting to me than frightful.
They got me stripped down like you are now."
Once Phil got into his story, he kind of forgot why they had come to the cabana, giving in more, "you can put your arms down."
But Duncan didn't want to put his arms down, mesmerized by how Phil was keeping him under his spell!
"John, they stripped him too, then let him alone, eagle-spread and tied to some posts in the barn. I didn't get it at first, but after they had their way with me, sucking all three cocks, three dicks inside me, not all at the same time," Phil snickers, "then a little rough play, holding me while they worked me over a bit, they brought in a young guy, no older than John or me. They let him play with me for awhile, but I think the dude didn't like connecting with me. In my own opinion, he was looking for a guy that wasn't so much to giving in to his whims. He left. I knew he was paying them, telling him as he steamed out, he expected a full refund!"
Phil laughs, as he did that night in Wyoming, that he had made the ranch hands' client angry.
One thing which stuck in Duncan's mind, "so, you got soft, instead of hard?"
"Um, I guess you can call it that, being I'm more the masochist. The pain does something to me that's hard to explain."
Not ready to share all his business, Duncan kept quiet. Instead of explaining he knew all about pain and pleasure, the cocktail which could keep a man on edge, he leaves it vague, "I see."
By now Phil has pants down around the ankles, "you want to lift?"
Looking down upon himself, there's one thing Duncan spots, which is quite characteristic, when interacting with another man. Not alone he suspects, how could a gay man not get excited enough, not to pop a boner, his briefs stretched out in front, blocking his view!
He had to 'quick! create a diversion!' so you like taking it up the ass, Phil?"
Helping Duncan lift each foot, Phil was glad he went barefoot, making it easier to strip down each leg, "from when I was fifteen, until I graduated from high school, I really didn't have a choice. After a while I lay back and tried liking it. You know what?"
Duncan could probably guess the correct answer, but it was Phil's story, "what?"
"I started to like it."
Right in his assumption, Duncan says, "what else were you subjected to that felt favorable?"
"So like, here's the thing," Phil got comfortable, sitting on a bench, "the only way I figured I could get through this, plus have any kind of sense of making friends, was doing what they wanted me to do, the bullies in school. After a while, the comfort of having friends and doing stuff like two guys holding me and a third dude punching me in the stomach, I had to like it. And in some ways I did. I guess that makes me weird, huh?"
From standing there in the buff, as Phil is, except his bulge still filling his briefs, Duncan comes over to the bench and sits down, saying, "that there is a tough call Phil." He doesn't really come out and mention this to anyone, outside the leather club, but feeling it might help, "you're not the only one with these feelings. On the weekends, the bar I frequent also has some activities that can put a man over the edge, with the mix of pain and pleasure." He didn't want to scare Phil ways with the word, 'dungeon', "we play in the space, where guys like you have secret fantasies to work out."
"Secret fantasies? So, you think that's what I have?"
Said like it was disease, Duncan says, "it's not really a sickness. It's just that a lot of the population doesn't have an idea of how accepting kinky play like someone living out a fantasy in a dark basement can be. That's why we meet, to play in a safe environment. Also, there's no judgement."
"I'm still not sure about what you're saying, Duncan."
Patting Phil on the knee, Duncan gets up, "why don't you help me clean up the pool, then we'll take a ride over to the bar and I think you'll get more of a picture of things."
"But you said you go there at night?" Phil gets up a follows.
"No, not talking about the darkroom. Ever been to a leather bar?"
"Nope."
Duncan then explains, "some of us are more into it than others. In order to get into the bar on leather night, a guys got to prove himself."
"Oh? Like, how would that go?"
"Too much detail to share now and I want to find out about you. Me, I'm more cut and dry."
Phil could not deny it felt good, having someone care, walk next to him, almost like he and John had done for most of their school years.
Too, he was getting to like Duncan, "you know, you're kind of nice for an older guy?"
Giving him a wink Duncan says, "thanks!"
With more enthusiasm, instead of thinking how Duncan's cock tasted, Phil got in the pool and gathered more and more of the junk, deposited there by drunks at the party.
"Hey, look," Phil says, holding up a condom.
"Fresh?"
"If you want to find out, fine, but ewe, I don't drink from a condom I don't know who's faucet it came from!"
"Good advice," Duncan says, having sat his butt on the side of the pool, corralling in cock and balls, laidback, enjoys the view.
Sure, Phil had thoughts about that, 'letting me do all the work', but a gaze now and then, the filled briefs looked mighty enticing!
'Smart,' Duncan thinks, Phil not knowing what to do with garbage, emptying out a net holding balls and other pool toys, refilling it with recyclables.
After he was sure there was nothing left which could clog the filter, Phil mounts the pool ladder and hanging there, "you know what?"
"What?"
"I often rebelled at home, hating my father for what he did to me, but I like helping you. It's kind of a different pace for me."
It's not that this came off the top of his head, Duncan says, "I'm here today in the flesh, no pun intended, because my poolboy quit. If you're in the market for a job, you could fill his spot."
"Do I get to work naked?"
Shrugging his shoulders, Duncan wasn't out to judge, "that would be up to you and the client."
"Any of them like, hot like you?"
Duncan, more about other men, "I only take on hot clients."
"Cool then, I guess I'll consider it."
Though, as they started the filter, Duncan instructing Phil to train the hose into the pool, he wasn't sure if how he perceived a hot man, chunky, hairy, that it was the same vision Phil had, in a man. Only time would tell!
%
"Guess what?" Elton says, having gotten out of bed.
"What?"
Pulling the miniblind harshly, it suddenly floods the bedroom with immense light, "it's morning!"
"Ugh," Marc hides his head under a pillow.
Elton jumps back into bed.
Lifting the edge of the pillow he sees Marc, eyes squeezed closed, "guess what else?"
"What?" Marc says with even less enthusiasm.
"It's your first day of work at the yoga studio!"
That at least got Marc doing a pushup, but then looking at the alarm readout, jumps up onto his knees, "oh shit, I've got to be there by seven, sharp!"
"You better get in the shower then."
Marc gives Elton a kiss, like saying goodbye, then hustles out of bed.
Elton remains, dropping onto his front, then rolls over, parking hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling, a confident smile on his face.
Marc barely got wet, shot gel into a hand, cleaned mostly pubes and pits, rinsed and grabs a towel.
"Penny for your thoughts," he comes back into the bedroom.
"Nothing," even though he had just popped out of a dreamlike state. Pressing hands into the bed, Elton does a sit up.
"No. Lay back and rest, unless you've got a class or something to go to?"
"Nope. Not on Saturday. I'm kind of caught up, so no homework to do."
"Great. Then you can take the liberty of having the run of the house, use the pool out back."
"Really? We haven't even gotten to that second date and you're so confident I'm not going to fill a loot bag and run off with all your silver and china?"
"It's not really silver. Stainless and as for the china, probably it says made in China on the flipside, but it's not real china."
The conversation acted as a transition, Marc kneeling on the bed, working his still-wet bod across the sheets, targeting Elton, who had to still wipe last night's sex off.
Putting both hands up like stop signs, Elton says, "oh no you don't. I'm not going to be your scapegoat for being late. Really, on the first day of your job?"
Marc had to admit the lure Elton has on him, "yeah, you're right," he backs off, then charges forward, "but how about a little peck, before I'm out the door?"
Elton rises up out of bed and does engage in the little peck, but also, in a reverse motion, helps Marc get dressed, making sure his hand is on the inside of the zipper of the pants, just so nothing gets entangled.
He also is curious, "so, since whenever you stopped wearing briefs, you never started wearing them again?"
"Nah, too stuffy. Besides, easier to disrobe when those special times come-a calling!"
"Hmm, I guess I'll find out all about those special times, later?"
Fully dressed in the outfit Mat dropped off yesterday before partying, Marc says, "so, how do I look?"
"The truth?" Elton circles Marc like a drill sargeant, "I like you better naked!"
Marc, his eyes following Elton, "speaking of naked, why don't you drop over later this morning for nude yoga class?"
"Not sure," Elton says, "being after that weird experience with Hasan, like, how do you think that's gonna go?"
Even though Marc was fresh as a daisy, he hugs Elton, "easy. Just pretend it never happened, unless he says something to you."
"Not so sure that's going to work, being I feel like someone could be talking to me, by just looking at me. Ever get the feeling?"
"Yeah," Marc thinks on it, "like, on the bus a few times before I got the nerve up to speak to you."
"You were afraid to speak to me? Was I that frightening?"
Taking Elton in his arms, regardless of squeeky clean vs. raunchy, "you were never frightening. But me, I was scared shit of what a college guy was going to think of an old man!"
"We'll talk age later," Elton twirls Marc's car keys on a finger, "but for now you better impress the boss and be on time!"
%
About the time Elton was kicking Marc out of bed for his first day on the job, Randy had woken. He was mildly shocked, but not totally whacked out of his gourd, that Nick was in bed next to him. The sheets smelt, which tells him what he doesn't recall, more sex at home, after leaving the party.
Nick lay there, chest rising and falling to the steady rhythm of his breathing.
Drawing his knees up to his chest, Randy just sat there, thinking what a lucky guy he is, only a day after meeting Mr. Wonderful!
Nick finally waking, reaches up with a hand, "hey, what time is it?"
Randy takes his hand, kisses it, then slips down into the bed, folding over and facing his bedmate, "time for me to get up and head to the yoga studio. Saturday is like a zoo there, guys walking in off the street, expecting to catch a yoga class."
Giving Nick a peck, "Mat said something about some maintenance jobs opening up at the studio, if you're interested?"
"Maintenance? After being a department manager?"
"Get over yourself. Just think of all those wet floors you have to clean after nude yoga class, not to mention locker room duty?"
It slowly has its effect, Randy's enticement, Nick saying, "I guess I could try it."
"Good, because if you're staying with me, don't think for a minute I'm going to carry the rent on my own."
"I thought you said Tom paid the rent."
"Oh," Randy thinks on it, "I did say that, didn't I?"
Anxious to see all that free eye candy, Nick says, "but I'm sure there will come a time when you will be able to afford to pay rent and your sugar daddy will go away?"
"He's not my sugar daddy."
Nick sees he struck a sour chord, approaching Randy as he stares in the mirror, "sorry baby. I didn't think."
Smiling back at Nick in the mirror, "well I'm glad you didn't think much last night or else I never would have gotten my shaft lodged up your ass!"
Agreeing, Nick says, "yeah, I did kind of take a long time sucking you into prime condition?"
"Five minutes more and it would have gone down your throat, instead of up your ass. But after thinking on it?"
"You had to think about taking my ass?"
Figuratively speaking, Randy had a full condom to dispose of, but for all purposes intended, both had an awesome evening, regardless of having to take a taxi home and leaving Nick's truck at Marc's house.
They both hustled to get ready, grabbing a cup of tea, new to Nick, but a staple for Randy in the morning.
Opening the apartment door, there's Nick's truck, parked in a space, him saying, "am I dreaming, or did we leave my truck at Marc's last night?"
"You left it at Marc's last night, I'm positive."
Walking over to the truck, Nick says, "there's a bike in the back."
"It's not yours, right?"
"Nope."
But then from behind the bushes this young guy steps, and after overhearing, "the bike's mine."
Randy says, "mind telling us what you were doing in the bushes?"
"Had to take a leak. I hope you're not going to rat on me?"
First there were other questions, "are you a friend of Marc's?"
He couldn't have been more than a freshman in college, "I used to cut Marc's grass for him, until he hired a landscaper. Now I do other odd jobs for him, like when guys at his parties can't drive home, I deliver their vehicles to their place and ride my bike back."
Randy says, "you live near Marc?"
"There's only two houses on his street. I live in the other one with my dad. He's a single parent. Oh, by the way, I'm James."
Very politely, James reaches out his hand, both Randy and Nick shaking it, introducing themselves as they did.
Nick then says, "well, we'll be swinging by there, James, so we can drop you and your bike off, if we have time?"
Randy says, "yeah. We've got time."
"You want me to jump in the back."
"No," Nick says, "sit up front with us."
"You sure there's enough room?"
Randy says, "plenty."
However it went proven there wasn't much, the three of them packed shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh.
When Nick makes a turn, James' hand accidentally slides over onto Randy's knee, "sorry about that, Randy."
"That's okay, James. I hardly noticed."
What Randy did notice, was when they were outside the truck, a circle of three talking, how James' eyes gravitated to Nick's crotch!
"Okay," James furthers, "just so you know I didn't do it on purpose, Randy."
"I realize that, James," Randy gets bold, placing his hand on James hand, "because if you meant it, you would have slipped down the side of my leg, towards my crotch," he leads James on, "and might've felt my balls?"
The ginger lad didn't fight the feeling, allowing Randy to control the direction of his hand, but did react with tenseness, tongue to the side of his lips, "um," he gulps, reclaiming his hand as if a shark is after it for dinner.
"You out?" Randy's intuition kicks in.
"Well, I am outgoing on my swim team."
Nick says, "you don't have to hide anything from us."
Randy seconds it, "we're both gay. In fact, Nick and I just met yesterday and slept together for the first time last night. You ever been with a guy, James?"
"Um. No."
"But you are into guys, right?"
James gives in, "how did you know?"
Randy divulges, "probably because you were checking out Nick's dick?"
"You were checking out my dick?" Nick says, abruptly applying the break.
Embarrassed, James scratches his temple and without conviction, "I might have."
Nick says, "what did you think?"
Randy has a better idea, "how would you like to touch Nick's dick, James?"
He looked scared shit, truly saying how he feels, "you guys are embarrassing me."
"Sorry," Randy says. "We didn't mean to scare you."
Nick says, "me too. I guess you can say we were trying to help you. You know, break you into the gay world?"
"That's one way of putting it, Nick," Randy says.
"Sorrrry, it's the only thing I could think of, Rand!"
Rather than have the subject drift away from himself, James says, "I think I might want to do that. When were you thinking?"
Randy says, "pull over at the service station, Nick."
"You got it."
So willing was Nick, hoping, once touched by James, things might lead to getting a taste of him!
Once stopped, Randy says, "get out a minute, James."
As James fumbles with the door handle, he's shying away, "I don't know about this, guys?"
After both slide out of the truck, James is instructed to get back in, which after doing so, Randy hops in next to me.
"Now what?"
First, Randy checks, "how old are you, James?"
"I'm not a straight A's student. I stayed back year. I'm eighteen."
Randy pours it on, "old enough to touch your dick, Nick?"
"Fine with me."
James has other ideas, "do you think I could lick it?"
"That might be a little tricky, Nick says. What are you doing after school?"
James says, "it's Saturday, but my dad says I have to go out looking for a job more than cutting lawns."
Randy says, "how are you at swishing a mop around, James?"
"Never done it, but what's there to it, other than dipping it in a bucket, wringing it out and pushing it around on the floor?"
Nick, knowing who the hiring and firing man is at the yoga studio, "do you think Tom will go for it?"
"Leave it to me," Randy is confident. "Tom says I've got a way with men."
Nick says, "I know how that goes!"
"Wow," James says, "you don't even know me and you're setting me up in a job?"
Nick says to Randy, "does this mean I'm not going to have my tool stimulated?"
"James," Randy says, "belt Nick in the gut for me?"
"For real?"
"Not for real," Nick says, revving the truck up.
James, kinda lean, once bulked up from being a faithful gym-goer, opened his school locker to find a rubber cock placed in there. In a small town word spreads fast, until gossip of him being gay trickled down family life. Careful in school, James tried to remain visible, being around other people. However, there were those isolated places, like the last one in the gym shower. That last day at school, before James escaped his miserable life, four guys ganged up on him, two held him, the other two taking equal turns, working over his nicely built up abs, which longer to form than taken away by alternating gut punches. With family it was another kind of harrassment. Finding no way out, except to run away from his problems, James threw essentials in a backpack, including his insulin and headed east, till he hit the outskirts of D.C. It's here he found a guy to shack up with. That relationship proved unworthy, especially when he ran out of insulin and in a supermartket, collapsed.
With quick reflexes, a supermarket employee chucked the ten dozen eggs he was carrying aside, just to catch some young guy from making a tower of canned peas his bed!
Unknown to either, James and Sherman's paths were about to cross once again.
Nick pulls up to the front facing of Mat's Yoga Studio to find the lot filled, guys lined up outside and no parking.
James sums it up, "must have a lot of dirty floors to mop up!"
Randy studies the situation, gazing through the passenger window he just opened, "I don't know, but looks like Mat's giving something away free."
He was joking.
"Better park around back."
Nick says, "which way?"
"Out the lot, make a right, then a right."
Following directions, Nick re-enters the street, makes the next right, onto the side street, then the next, then another right turn, "that was three rights," into the rear parking lot of the building. He steps on the brake.
Randy says, "you gotta be so critical, Nick?"
Terrible, James had to endure Randy's hunky bod leaning over him in order to give Nick a peck on the cheek!
"Now where?"
The back lot filled, Randy hops out, James doing the same. Randy turns to tell Nick something, butting chests with James, "really?"
"Sorry," James says.
Nick is not worried, about the close encounter, being in one day and night they have built something concrete, "go, I'll scout around for a parking place."
"Great," Randy says.
James was taken aback, instead of following Randy, was cowered under the pit of his arm.
"C'mon, we've gotta get to the bottom of this," Randy says, leading James in the back door employees entrance.
Soon as Randy steps inside, Tom is there, "oh good, you're here early. Who is this?"
"James. Remember you had said, 'if ever I come across a guy, like myself, running away from family situations, needs a meal and roof over his head'?"
Tom felt compelled at least to study the sitch, from head to toe.
Randy furthers, "I kinda, like," he treads on eggshells, "promised James a job mopping floors."
When he turned forty-one, Tom felt more like a daddy to younger guys than a mere acquaintance. One year on, even more so of Randy coming into his life, "do you know how to read and write, son?"
James smiles, this 'Tom' being not only the epitome of the dad he's always wanted, but damn cute as well, "yes, sir."
Catching the first name off of Randy, Tom says, "for right now you're not mopping floors. Computer system's down and by chance the college soccer team has shown up to register. Grab a handful of registration forms and some pens. Randy, work with James here to get these guys signed in."
He did see a name on the brass plate, "thanks Tom."
Tom says, "yeah, whatever," but as he walks away is signaling to himself, flailing a hand up and down to signify fanning a flame, 'hot'!
About ready to turn to go inside, the rear door opens, Randy turning to say, "about time you decided to get out of bed, Marc!"
Marc recognizes his lawnmower-man, "James, what are you doing here?"
"Randy is giving me a 'real' job," James smiles, "here, have some," he delegates, handing Marc a sheet of paper.
However, Tom rescues Marc from paper duty, "oh good, you're here," he hands James back the registration form given to Marc, "we're going to need you out front."
While being led down a corridor, Marc says, "you better watch that James."
"Why?"
"Hired him to cut the lawn and not which I'm putting him down, weasled his way into fixing the hole in the back of the shed and other stuff I didn't even see breaking down."
"A weasle, Marc. Nah," Tom says, "I'd call that being assertive in the right way."
Marc wasn't saying, months before he met Elton, just how assertive James could be, taking a shower, the eighteen year old helping himself to getting the grime and grit off, sharing the downfall. Good thing it was before he soaped up, so he didn't have to clean his shaft off twice!
Slowly, as the crowd of men dwindled, they were down to signing up the last two college men, which one of the young professors slipped into the crowd, Mat announces, "okay all, we're back online. Any computer geniuses willing to enter the pile of paperwork?"
Randy, handling that volume of paperwork and the man attached to each one, had the need to drag Nick off to the employees locker room.
Raising a hand, John says, "I know a little about computers."
"Well, get your butt over here in the chair," Mat says.
As he sits, Mat there by his side, John looks up, "does this mean I've got a job?"
From the party last night, Tom walked around and half out of his mind with Margarita's, was handing out jobs left and right!
Joining John in his crusade, James says, "since I helped fill them out, do I get a job out of it?"
Mat usually let Tom handle the hiring and firing, but in this case, with two young faces staring at him, "you two get all these registration papers entered, which also means you have to call the applicant and secure credit card numbers, you can cut out the middle man."
John and James smile at each other.
As they work side by side, James says, "Mat, he's kinda cute."
Just as on top of things, John says, "yeah, but that wink. It was meant for me."
"You can have the wink," James says on the sly, "I'll take what's between the legs!"
Kind of new to all this gay stuff, John says, "so, you're a cocksucker?"
James laughs out loud, "I'm into anything and everything."
"Really? Awesome."
They enter a few lines, James saying, "In fact, on our lunch hour, if we get one, I'd like to do you."
"Huh? Do me, what?"
Laughing again, James says, "man, are you kidding me?"
"No. I don't think I look like I'm kidding."
"Wow," James says, "you're a unique breed."
"How so?"
Curious, James asks, "have you ever gotten a blowjob?"
John gets it, the way he's learned to think of it, "you want to give me a blowjob?"
"Not really," James says.
John says, "oh. Well. What made you say that?"
"I don't know. Maybe because when I made my crosscountry trip, it was the only bartering system for getting a shelter over my head and food in my belly."
"Crosscountry?" John can relate, "where are you from?"
"Northern Wyoming territory. I lived in a town called Sundance. Ever hear of it?"
"Nope, but cool name."
"Small town, landed a job in high school, working at a campground, doing odd jobs. In my senior year I became a counselor. Before the year had finished out, I had landed a job at a resort that just opened," he giggles.
"What's so funny?"
"I think, between both jobs I learned more about sex than anything my dad could tell me!"
John notices the singularity, "what about your mom?"
"Dad always said she was dead, but I'm not so sure about that. In any case, the way he talked about her, she didn't really want to have kids. Before she died, if that's the case, she turned into a tramp, so dad says."
"Having kids, you have siblings?"
"An older brother. He left home before me, much for the same reason."
Sitting back, arms across middle, John says, "was he gay too?"
"Oh wow," James says, "you clara-boy-aunt?"
At the way James says it, John knows he's misspelling it, but just leaves it with a breathy snicker, "no. Probably my story is not much different from yours, that's all. My dad was a smart man, was always saying things like, what a person does in life is a lesson learned."
"Let me guess, John," James puts a hand to his shoulder, "he was not wise enough to accept his son's sexual choices?"
With a melancholy feeling, thinking of the grief he got from a seemingly 'wise' father, only to be singled out like a stranger, after coming out, "you're right on it, James."
"So, like me you walked out?"
"It was more mutual. In an Asian family, tradition can leave a person with shame for who they are, even though it's right to be who they are. Am I making any sense?"
"I don't know, John. Maybe."
Then John, not wanting to monopolize on the chat, "how did you walk away from your situation?"
"Not really a matter of choice. I often wonder how my father was to my mother, based on how he treated his sons."
John, feeling there's a story here, "really? Like, how does that go?"
Looking around, James peruses the front desk area where they typed info into the computer terminals. Being either patrons left, or were in yoga classes, Tom and Mat attending to their own business, he stands up and pulling his shirt off overhead, till it coils up on his chest, turns his back to John.
"Oh my god, James!"
Worst person to be caught by, Mat walks into the reception area seeing one them from the chest side, "hey, hot bod, James, but you wanna save it for when you two are alone?"
Working fervishly, James pulls his shirt back on and down his back, "dammit!"
With Mat going from here to there past them and their workstation, John says, "don't be so hard on yourself. You did see Mat wink?"
"No. Really?"
However, more than Mat acting 'not like a boss', John reflects on why James stripped to show him his back, "does it still hurt?"
"A little," but of the cosmetic appearance of welts across his back, "I guess I'll never be able to go to nude yoga class."
Whether it was hint, or that John didn't care which way or the other, "unless you do yoga in private?"
Phased by John's candid approach, "you know yoga?"
"I can do a very bad imitation of how it's supposed to go."
After Mat comes back across the room, going from there to here, "I'm glad you boys like keeping busy," he leans his arms on the counter, "but remember," he stops and gazes at each, "if you want to keep a job here, you've got prove you can do it?"
This got them both collaborating on matching applications with credit card information, then busied themselves with typing.
James stops and with hands still on the keys, turns and gives John a peck on the cheek.
"What was that for?" it brought John to a dead stop.
Typing away, James says, "for listening!"
It made him smile, when lo and behold, who should walk in the front door, bringing John to his feet, "oh hi, Shermy, this is James!"
"Shermy?" James questions.
He didn't need to stand, Sherman coming over to the counter and even though the reception area was slightly elevated, for appearance, he easily looked down upon the two, "hey," he bestows John with a peck.
James says, "oh my, aren't we Mr. Popular this morning!"
Introducing James, John says, "the other kiss I got this morning."
"Is that so," Sherman moves more to the side holding James' computer, "moving in on my action, James?"
Irish-Italian, more gingery than brown-haired, an easy blusher, James did just that, "sorry," checks, "I swear, it's not the case."
He was acting, just to scare the shit out of James, Sherman interpreting the situation differently, like two instead of one, "well, I suppose I'm big enough to handle both of you."
There's a lull, Sherman in deep thought.
John says, "something wrong?"
"No," Sherman stands there, attention towards James, "I know you."
Blushing, James says, "yeah. Me too. Know you, but I didn't know whether I should say something in front of John."
"Sherman, what's this about?"
'Uh-oh,' Sherman thinks on it, the only reason a guy would call his boyfriend by his full name and not usual nick, "actually, John, this happened before I met you."
James didn't want to get Sherman into trouble with his boyfriend, but the truth slips out, leaving some detailing secret, "Sherman caught me in his arms or else I could've been one with a stack of beans."
"Peas," Sherman corrects him.
John stands there, his eyes beaming to Sherman, "and?"
"I didn't know it at the time, but James here, had a seizure, being he didn't have his insulin fix that morning."
"It's not a fix," James corrects him, "it's a dose."
"Right," Sherman says, "my bad."
Trying to piece it all together, John says, "right then. You were being a hero, Shermy?"
"That's the gist of it," James answered for Sherman.
By the way Sherman and James reacted to a life saved, back in the day, before he knew John, Sherman accepted payment by a night together. Then, James just vanished.
He didn't say, but James was on the brink of finding it more profitable having sex with married men, at a motel, than working in a supermarket. That 'business' didn't last, being there were so many runaways doing the same thing. He was lucky enough a certain bus driver noticed him trying to get on the bus without paying and instead of turning him in to the authorities, took him in under his wing.
They were interrupted by Tom walking in, "oh good, you're here Sherman. We've got a lot to talk about."
"Don't go away, James." Then, facing John, "don't worry guys. I'm big enough for the both of us."
It left Tom wondering, "oh? Care to explain, Sherman?"
With Tom leading Sherman away, John says, "what do you think Sherman meant by 'big enough for both of us'?"
James can only furnish an answer, based on what he knows, "have you seen his dick size?"
"Of course. We've slept together and trust me, it's something hard to miss!"
John, only knowing Sherman for about one night, "Shermy didn't mention you, but don't worry, I'm not jealous or anything."
James says, "you should be."
"I've only known him one night."
Allowing John to know his business, James says, "yeah. Me too. I felt I owed Sherman something."
Having to think fast, John didn't want it to sound like Sherman and he had hit it off instantly, being he was torn between two men, measuring up to being handsome and hot, "it wasn't like that with me, but at least we both know Shermy is big enough for both of us!"
They high-fived and laughed.
When it settles, "but oh," John seemingly picks up where he left off, "hhe doesn't want to fuck me."
Being they had something in common, "same here. I mean, it felt like it was headed in that direction, then Sherman changed course and started to suck me."
"We only did oral last night," John says.
"Oh," James enunciates tapping a key, turns to his left, "could you even fit him in your mouth?"
"Let me guess. You want to know my dick size, James?"
James smiles, "was I that obvious?"
"Maybe on our lunch hour you'll find out!"
They heard voices, someone approaching, James saying, "we better get typing."
Thoughts danced in John's head, wondering how their lunch hour was going to go, "later then," he busied himself.
%
% Copyright 2023 T. Chase McPhee
Developing segments of ''YoGA MaT' may not be amended, distributed, sold, used, quoted, paraphrased, chopped, sliced, diced, nor made part of any collection, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the author. Drones are prohibited from overhead viewing.
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