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 most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
BeaR GaRDeN 10 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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The Bear Garden:
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Extending from first hand experience, Ian found `food play' could be fun on both the giving and receiving ends.
Perhaps hints from seeing his good friend, Geoff Long, arms twined-out in eagle-spread fashion, rendering him submitted to Bill Basehart's will, gave Ian an idea as how to keep Avraham from squirming about on the table. Will food play, especially if it were `cold', like rubbing two popsicle sticks over a dude's nips, as was done to Ian himself by TC, in an attempt to melt down the tips of the popsicles before shoving one up his ass, for Ian's playing with Avraham, what irked him was his victim's prying hands.
Finding a couple of chef aprons lying about, they made perfect bondage equipment, easily wrapped around a leg of the butcher block table and affixed around each of Avraham's wrists.
Ian felt his bondage skills equivalent to Bill's, rendering his victim helpless, but not totally immovable. However, it served a purpose, Ian rather enjoying watching Avraham squirming around as he would coat each pink nip with `cold!'
Leaving the popsicles, tips touching nips and lying on Avraham's dense, dark, hairy chest, Ian rubs hands together and with a snide remark, "Let's see what I can dream up next?!"
He couldn't believe he was getting a kick out of this, Ian having to drop a hand to stroke himself.
Too, it was Avraham, his ability to unintentionally, or maybe intentionally, who knows what was lurking in the submissive's head, to drive him into saying, "It is so-o-o-o cold! I can't imagine how it feels for you to be in your ass Ian!"
Cold, real cold,' was Ian's thinking to himself, regarding TC working a popsicle stick in and out of his own ass, till the cold torture implement was whittled down to next to nothing! From Bill, Ian got the idea of how this torture stuff went. Whenever he did something to Geoff and Geoff liked it, he knew Geoff hinted for more. It's the exact thing Avraham was pulling on him now. Asking was like wanting!'
Coy, Ian responds, "Cold. It was really, really cold, but like anything else, one doesn't know unless one tried it!"
Returning to the freezer, Ian pulls out the box of multi-colored popsicles.
"No! Please!"
Ian laughs out loud, not because of feeling sadistic, but at Avraham's pathetic pleading. Like he's felt, based on Bill and Geoff's playing around, Avraham is feeling exactly the opposite of his projecting words. Removing a wrapper from the cold pop, Ian can tell by Avraham's jerking cock, moving around on the bed of dark pubic hair all by itself, his victim's `wanting!'
He didn't mean to, but was his first time doing this and seeing the only alternative of getting Avraham's balls out of the way, grabbing both up in his hand, forming a `cockring' around them, he first makes impression, "Oh my god Avraham! I never noticed what big balls you have!" He laughs!
It also humors Ian, when Avraham says, "Oh please! Don't do anything to my balls! I beg of you sir!"
Knowing he's smiling, which is probably turning Avraham on further, Ian humors himself, saying, "You mean like doing something like this?"
Ian could not believe he was humoring himself at Avraham's expense, pulling up on the two sacs, till the enclosed globes were ready to burst their seams!
"Oh-h-h-h-gr-r-r-r-r!" Avraham bore the brunt of the pain.
Ian couldn't believe he was laughing his ass off, primarily because he knew Avraham was liking what he was doing. It was no different than the time he witnessed Bill, a chain in his hand, pulling at two clamps snagging up Geoff's nips, stretching them out from Geoff's chest. Too, stretching nips away from a really hairy chest made it `very' noticeable!
Letting go of Avraham's balls, Ian proclaims, "Hey! That was kinda cool!"
As Avraham sighs with emotion, Ian thinks about the popsicle melting down over his hand. Without giving Avraham time to think and because of the dripping pop, he shows no remorse over grabbing up the two oversized walnuts and shoving the popsicle `in'!
"Oh my god!" Avraham pulls his restraints, arching his back.
In doing so, arching his lower back, Ian says of it, the popsicle, the action driving it in deeper, "Oh cool!" But he's happily horrified when the wooden stick breaks loose, the cold ice lodged in Avraham's ass, "Oh shit!"
"Oh, it's too cold! Too cold!"
This time, Ian figures Avraham not playing up to him, but voicing opinion. With the unknown left with his victim, Ian tries to think of how to get the popsicle out, since the `handle' is no longer intact! With corporate decision making, he again goes at Avraham's balls, getting them out of the way and biting a lip, because he's never stuck his fingers up a guy's ass before, goes for it with his thumb and index finger, getting grabby.
"Oh-h! Oh shit `yes'!"
"Yeah?" Ian is more puzzled by the reaction of pleasure. Also on Ian's brain is, this isn't working, because Avraham's asshole is way too pea-sized to fit the tips of his digits in! `Now what do I do?' Then he comes to conclusion, out loud, "It's probably all melted by now?" He looks to Avraham for supportive reaction.
"Why you stop, Ian?"
Ass? Stop?' Ian thinks. He wants more up his ass?' Then snapping his thumb and and finger together, remembering the cucumbers he saw in the fridge... he stops to look at his thumb, why didn't make a clicky sound, finding Avraham's ass-juices have deadened it, skips over it to open the vegetable compartment. He giggles to himself, holding up two different sized cucumbers, thinking, `Now, what would Bill do?' Closing the door, he decides on both, chucking the two different sized cukes up onto table.
Landing on Avraham's furry stomach, the green tubers bounce a little before coming to a stop. Avraham looks over his hairy chest to see in Ian's hand a butternut squash, the base of the vegetable wider than the slender `plug'. Playing Ian up, "Oh no! That is way too big to fit in my ass!"
"Save it, Avraham. I know you want it!"
Avraham smiles, gets his last dibs in, "Okay, but don't shove it in too fast!" Seconds later, Avraham is wondering why Ian takes to looking in the cupboards.
He finds out, Ian announcing,"Ah, here we go! Extra virgin `lube'!" Laughs out loud!
%
For the rest of the afternoon, Jorge had a few estimates to call on, one out in the middle class end of town, was next on his calendar, but then thinking, What a fuckin' shame I have to double back,' an appointment an hour and a half later in the same neighborhood. He chanced calling Mr. Middle-class,' able to switch the appointment to 3:30. He calls, the voice on the airwaves telling Jorge, `Okay, c'mon over.'
All the homes out this way replicated each other from the street view, big wrought iron bars cemented in place, connecting every twelve feet or so, dense foliage for privacy. Each had a gate which, if the driveway hadn't begun there at the street, one would never know it wasn't part of the fence.
Unrolling the window of his van, Jorge presses a button, saying, "This is Jorge Villa, from Modern Cabinetry. I know Senator Quagmire is not expecting me until 3:30, but I phoned ahead and..."
"You're permitted to enter," Jorge got cut off.
Rolling up his window, he proceeded up the driveway of the Quagmire estate. He thought the dude a real snot, when he pulls up in front, the asshole telling him, "You can't park here. Pull your van around to the side!"
Driving away, Jorge reiterated, talking to himself in a snooty manner, "You can't park here... pull your van around to the side... Yeah, around the side of your ass," and whether the dude had followed his van or not, Jorge held up his middle finger, outside his window, condemning, "Fuck you, bitch!" Instead of anger, Jorge laughs his ass off!
To the side of the two story mansion, Jorge wasn't feeling at all remorseful over having to drive the extra several hundred feet.
"Hot diggity!" he says, getting out of his van and looking towards the back of the house.
He could hear in the distance, an unseen individual coaxing on a group of about ten men... ten `shirtless' men, doing exercises. Walking over to the chain linked fence, interwoven with ivy, he peers through a portal.
"State your business!"
"Oh shit!" Jorge says of the dude suddenly appearing, "You scared the hell outta me!" Regardless, Jorge didn't take the dude as scary', but rather, a fuckin' hottie,' stripped down to the waist, except the baseball cap on his head.
"Did you receive clearance at the main gate?"
"No," Jorge replies, thinking the half-stripped dude a little dense, "I flattened it with my truck after I stormed it and ran over it!"
"I see," he replies to Jorge.
From his side of the fence, he figured all the dude could see was face and top of his tank shirt. He knew they were checking each other out, the blond dude on the other side of the fence getting the raw end of the deal, only seeing from the pecs, up! Knowing he had a later appointment, "Well, do you believe me or not?"
"No. You believe for one minute I'm going to buy your story?" Blondie replies.
"If you did, I'd wonder why, this being a U.S. Senator's home, why I'm not being surrounded by a hoard of secret service men, guns out, my chest plastered to the ground, my hands pinned behind my head?"
"You watch too my Tv. Not the case at all. I don't believe your story, because I could see from the security camera it was you."
"Oh, so you're the voice behind the charming guy who let me in?" Jorge replies, trying to stay in the good graces of this dude, because he was rather appealing. Whether he was gay or not was not the problem. Straight guys could be a lot of fun on the spur of the moment!
"Senator Quagmire is in a meeting. His appointment is at 3:00."
"3:30 to be exacti, but I phoned," Jorge complains, "and whomever it was, said it was okay to come by now."
Jorge stood back from the fence about a foot. Slowly, the other dude had been inching towards it. In his final words regarding the situation, he places two hands on the upper part of the fence, sort of hanging on it, his nose almost poking through it, "Probably Grant. Between you and me he's a real jerk."
Jorge lent a smile, seeing dude break his perfectly serious facade, a smirk on his face, one which could make one think it was a result of joke-making.
Of the fence, "Careful. Might be poison ivy. You wouldn't want to harm the surface that milky-white skin!" Jorge was't for certain, but had an idea the reason behind clinging to the fence, possibly wishing it wasn't there at all?
Taking his hands off, swiping hands up and down his own arms, the dude says, "Thanks for the tip."
Because the men in the field have been standing there plain as zombies, Jorge asks, "Don't you think you better get back to your robots, before they melt in the sun?"
Turning his head, the dude knew there was a reason why he was barechested in the field, "Dismissed!"
"So, what are you? Their sarge?"
"I'm head of security here at the Quagmire compound. Like myself, I demand my legions to be in top physical shape."
Smiling, Jorge says, "You got a name or do they call you `muscles'?"
"The gate is over there," blondie casts a thumb to Jorge's right.
Walking through the gate, if Jorge thought he was trying to read this dude, this guy was way ahead of him! His hand was already on Jorge's person, feeling up his hairy forearm, saying, "Troy Trainor and I think you look more sexy on this side of the fence!"
On the same wavelength, Jorge was way ahead of Troy, saying, "Really?" Not waiting for an invitation, Jorge takes the initiative to place a hand behind Troy's head and mashing the rack of muscles into his tank top!
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"You know what Barry?" Jef asks, after finishing up a mouthful of pizza.
"What?"
"Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"
Barry knew there was more to this, "And?"
Reaching across the table with a napkin in hand, Jef replies as he dabs it to Barry's lip, "You're such a sloppy eater!"
Cute, but also the way Jef was fussing over him, Barry replies, "I did it on purpose."
Reeling in his arm, Jef says, "Why?"
In a cutesy manner, Barry replies, "So I can have my boyfriend fuss over me?"
"How old are you?"
The quick change of subject threw Barry, "Twenty-eight. Why?"
"I'm twenty-three. I'm five years younger than you. Do you think it's going to work?"
Puzzled, Barry says of it, "Works for me. How about you, unless I'm too old for you?"
"I thought I might be too young for you, but no, you're never too old for me. Besides, if you were I wouldn't care, because I like you even if you're older."
"Oh really?" Barry was entertained. "Exactly what is it about me you like?"
"To me you look like a perfect man."
Wondering where this was going, Barry questions, "Perfect man? I doubt it, but go on."
"You are." Rubbing his hand over his own close-cropped beard, Jef tells, "I like your beard, but more than that, did you know you are a really good looking man?"
"I knew that! What else?" Barry chuckles.
Serious, Jef responds, "No, really. You are like so good looking and before, in bed?"
Barry answers, thinking of their bear bods together, "Gr-r-r!"
Jef laughs, replying, "I liked it too," the light sex, "but I really like you being hairy."
"Like I'm the only one?" Barry replies.
Being Barry the one who went to town, lapping up Jef's furry chest and other hairy places, Jef could relate, "You like doing me?"
With discrepancy on his mind, oral vs. anal, Barry says, "I think you tasted delicious, though I would have liked to have parted the valley!"
"Done what?" Jef didn't get it.
Looking around Rinaldi's, Barry leans in, saying, "Do a little fucking around?"
Skeptical this afternoon about roles', not which Barry was totally into, except maybe as part of the atmosphere at the Bear Garden', with Jef, it was however it goes,' when they were in bed. He wasn't singling either himself or Jef as me top-you bottom.'
Jef comes out with, "I think I'd like to try fucking a guy!"
It's not exactly the way Barry was hoping it would go. Hours ago, when they were in bed, he had visions of maybe something longer lasting than hopping in bed, fucking and then the occasional get together. In his mind right now, he had thoughts of parting Jef's ass, but his own?
"Why don't we wait until we get between the sheets, before we make any hasty decisions?"
"I have a question?"
Barry asks, drinking a sip of wine, "What's that?"
"Do you fuck guys or do you like to get fucked?"
Figuring it a little in reverse, Barry thinking this should have been the question before Jef assumed it was fine to divide and conquer, his earlier assumption, Barry tread lightly, "I think I could get into both." He only hoped, even though he wasn't being deceitful, he could get to Jef's ass door, before Jef plowed through his!"
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The rest of the afternoon at the gym was a hectic one. Not one in which Raymond minded, a few new patrons, one, "Renato sent me, telling me I could get a good deal?"
On his side of the counter, Raymond stood about two inches taller than his normal 5'11". Overall, he had a poor sense of measuring, but being the dude about the same level eyesight, he figured 6'. But it wasn't height which concerned him.
It was always safe to ask, "Are you in college?"
Taking the shades off, the dude says, "I know. I look older with the sunglasses on, don't I?"
Prying, Raymond says, "Older than?"
"I'm seventeen. Almost eighteen and a senior in high school. I know, Renato says a guys has to be eighteen, but I was wondering if..."
"The rules state you have to be eighteen to join the gym, but it's now only my rule. The state has guidelines too, unless I can get a not from your parents?"
"Nah. I guess I'm out of luck."
Raymond stresses, "You can't get a note? They out of town or something," which he found common with folk around here, leaving their kids in care of an older sibling, relative or nanny.
"More like out of touch. Nah, I can't ask either of them for a note."
"Why not?" Raymond asks more out of curiosity than being nosy.
He stood there, smirking.
"Never mind," Raymond amends his inquiry, "none of my business."
Surrendering, the youth says, "No, because my mom came home early from shopping one day and found me in bed with my buddy from school. When my dad found out I was gay he went ballistic. Now they keep tabs on me wherever I go and banned me from having any guys in the house. If it wasn't for Renato, I would probably not be having sex again until I'm in college!"
Thinking about it, especially Renato's fidelity to himself, Raymond asks, "You and Renato?"
"I don't have sex with my uncle, okay?"
"Oh, Renato's your uncle?"
"Yeah," the Italian dude says, "and he lets me bring guys to his apartment."
"Apartment? I thought he lived at home with `his' family?" Raymond questions, the plot thickening faster than a cock in heat!
"Oh shit!"
"What?" Raymond asks.
"It's supposed to be a secret. Nobody's supposed to know."
Raymond quips, "Apparently!"
Putting his sunglasses on, the dude says, "Look, I think I should go. Nice meeting you."
"Wait," Raymond replies, "I thought you wanted to work out?"
"I did. I do, but I'm seventeen and there's no way I'm going to get permission from my dad to work out at the gym."
With thought, Raymond asks, "What are your intentions of working out at a gym? Do you want to bulk up or is it for the sole purpose to `watch clients' in the locker room dress and undress?"
"That's so lame! I don't believe you, especially when Renato said you were such a nice guy!"
"No! Wait!" Raymond is around the corner, tagging the dude on the shoulder, "Wait up!" Before the dude can react, "There's another way you can work out at the gym and you don't need permission from your parents."
Turning around to Raymond, with an idea of `how', the seventeen year old replies, "Sex?"
More with anger, Raymond replies, "Is that all you young people think of, is taking it up the ass?"
Again the sunglasses came off, and in a remorseful manner, he says, "Sorry. No, it's not the only thing I think of. What I really want to do is meet a nice guy. `Not' do what Renato does all the time."
Personally, it puzzled Raymond, but keeping his cool over Renato, he states, "The gym `could' be a place to meet guys for sex, but I try to keep that from happening."
"How do you manage that? Renato tells me a lot of guys are gay."
"Spot checks. If I catch anything which resembles two guys getting it on, bod contact or even kissing, their membership is revoked. As far as their contract is concerned, I'm judge, jury and executioner!"
It made the dude smile, thinking, This dude has a sense of humor', but more important to him, "So how can I work out here without the rents knowing it?"
"Part time job after school?"
"Job? Like how much do I get paid?"
"Minimum wage and you get to work out as much as you want off the clock?" Raymond offers.
"Sounds too good to be true."
Putting a hand on the lad's shoulder, Raymond says, "Why don't you take a seat at the bar and we can talk it over.... Hey, I didn't get your name?"
"Oh right," he lightened up, holding out a hand to shake, "Tomasso Venturini, but you can call me `Tom' is you want."
Taking Tomasso's hand, Raymond says, "I suppose you already know I'm `Raymond'?"
"Yeah, Renato told me about you."
Sitting at the protein bar, Raymond took the seat next to Tomasso, asking, "What do you like to be called?"
"Tom is cool."
"Tom it is!"
A few seconds pass, Tom asks, "Now that I'm working for you, can I ask a question?"
"Feel free to ask more than one!" Raymond says lightheartedly.
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
In all honesty, Raymond thought `Renato' was his boyfriend. At least it's way his thinking went, when Renato left the gym today. Rather than get into it, he answers, "I think you're a too young for me!" meant as joking!
Smiling, Tom says, "I have no intentions of dating my employer."
"Oh," Raymond felt silly,' but didn't readdress the question. Instead, he deviates, "You're not a Rinaldi'?"
"Adopted. I have a very small family. The family back in Italy are dead. Killed in the earthquake."
"Sorry to hear that," Raymond shows remorse.
"Renato got me to stay with his family. They live down the road from where Michael lives, but now I'm feeling really tense about living there."
Raymond senses, piecing a few things together, "Ever under the watchful eyes, I take it?"
Griping, Tom replies, "You got it! From the minute I walk in the door from school, it's a total hassle."
Walking around the counter, Raymond hauls two waters from the refrigerated case, presenting Tom with one, asking, "It's your senior year, if I'm not mistaken?"
"If I pass. I'm not a great student. I'm pulling a couple of D's. I don't think I could stand another year living there."
Raymond could see the conversation take a dive into a dismal state, "But if you worked out.... worked at the gym, wouldn't they gripe about that?"
"Nah. That's where Renato comes in. He would explain to them I have a really solid job and... and Renato, he has a good way about stuff. He can bullshit and make it sound good!"
I'll say,' Raymond was thinking the same regarding their newfound romance!' Again though, he sidetracks himself, "If you have a few minutes, I can show you what you can do around here to help me out?"
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Ian was really getting into this. He would not believe it himself, if he didn't prove it, one hand on the olive oiled-cucumber, turning it, sliding it into Avraham's tight ass, hearing the groans of pleasure, mixed with pain, his other hand firming up his own `cucumber.'
"Oh, I'm getting close," Ian says, his hips beginning to fuck air!
At that moment, Bill Basehart busts in the door, "We're finished. What's up in here?"
Unknown to Ian, his playtime was over, Bill stealing the scene.
"Oh, awesome!" Bill exclaims, grabbing up the butternut squash. Moving in between Ian and Avraham, Bill says, "Pull that twinkie out. Time for something substantial."
Whimpering, because he was almost on the verge of expelling his man-seed, though Ian didn't stop stroking, Ian's concerned, "I didn't widen him up enough yet, Bill."
"Hell with that crap!"
Ian's amazed, licking his lips, not out of physical taste, but the `taste' of wanting to see what the prognosis of the squash in Bill's hand, inserting into where the cucumber had been pulled out!
"You want this boy?"
Looking down over his hairy chest, now flattened by man-sweat, the twenty-six year old replies, unsure, "Uh, um..." he bit his lip, realizing Bill asked, but wasn't expecting a `no' answer.
"Don't you want to oil it up, Bill?" Ian says of the big squash in his hand.
"What for? Takes all the fun out of it!"
Ian wasn't sure he wanted to stick around, mainly because he wasn't into the pain thing, but respected other guys if they were into it, "Where's Geoff?"
With glee, Bill replies, "Still `hanging around' downstairs."
"You done torturing him?"
Snottily, Bill replies, "It's not torture, okay? It's what he wants!"
Perhaps, by joining Bill on his' side of the fence, topping out Avraham, Ian feels less inferior than before, "And not what you' want Bill?"
Next thing, Ian's yelling, "Oh fuckin' shit!" when Bill draws his elbow back and with battering ram technique, uses the butt of his hand to slam against the fat end of the butternut squash.
"Akkkkk-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-kkkoh-h-h-h-h-h-shit!" Avraham screams at the top of his lungs.
"What do you want of me, Ian?"
He might have backed down, surely the force of the fat squash stretching Avraham's ass out to the max and the ensuing painful scream affects his ears, derailing Ian's thoughts, but Bill's accusation bringing him back on track, "I don't want anything from you Bill. I got what I wanted from you, a night in the sack with you. But no, this is not about what I want from you Bill" He couldn't believe he had Bill Basehart up against the wall, pounding his chest with his finger, "It's about what you, Bill. It's like before the accident I was nothing but a pile of shit to you. Now I'm like.... like..."
He had to stop, Ian forced to shut up, because he lost understanding of figuring out Bill, his motives of where he was coming from and where he going. As far as direction, he was overwhelmed by both mind and matter, Bill sinking down the wall, Bill's tongue stuck out, licking down the trail of hair separating his stomach, feeling a pair of hands on his torso, apparently Bill steadying himself.
Only sound in the room was that of Avraham, moaning, feeling from the big gourd tightly wedged in his ass. It's not until Ian feels a wet mouth on his cock, he cocks his head back and now with opinion, "Oh Bill... oh man that feels so hot!"
Way back in the recesses of Bill Basehart's brain, he's had this hidden desire, since his tweens, to have a hot man to service. As he has been to other guys, dominant, disciplinarian, top-fucker, looking upon Ian, regardless of beefy exterior, he's been the only man in Bill's life who could drive him to his knees without a fight.
"Oh-h-h-h-h," Ian pulls at the back of Bill's head, forcing himself down Bill's throat, "I'm getting close."
Pulling off, it made Ian grumpy, "No-o-o-o! What'd you stop for?"
"I want to go downstairs. You and me."
"Downstairs? Um, wouldn't you rather go upstairs?" Ian pictured a bed' and not a dungeon,' especially whereas Bill having desires to cut down Geoff and string him up?
He had to think on it, Bill saying, "I want to be in Geoff's place for your pleasuring."
`He's serious isn't he?' Ian had to question it for himself. "Um, like, you know I don't get into that pain stuff?" From Geoff's account, except for getting fucked, he knew about the whippings, ball torture and other stuff they like to do, with mutual respect.
Building his own fantasy, Bill replies, "I want to be in the stocks, helpless to whatever you want to do to me." Taking Ian's already stiff shaft in his hand, Bill strokes it, saying, "I want you to make me a slave to this!"
Ian couldn't deny the feeling. After the accident, he had his first take on Bill's savory lips, tasting his cock. All stoked up for another jettison of man-jizz, he couldn't very well deny Bill his desires, as well as his own!
"Slave, huh? Does that mean I'm the master?" Ian joked.
Knowing Ian has knowledge of what he does to Geoff, "You can do to me anything I do to Geoff, or more?"
"Can I help?" Avraham again gazes over his sweaty bod.
"Good idea," Ian thinks it, since he wasn't into this bdsm stuff, "can Avraham help?"
"No," Bill says it, reverting back to the dominant mode, "only you can play me."
"Play you? Like fantasy stuff?" Ian replies, getting a notion this could be helpful to him. Being the victim of bullying for years and taking to some extent, he had always pictured Bill Basehart as a perfect example of one. Over the last couple of years, especially after the accident and having sex with Bill once, he's softened his opinion of Bill. But not of the others. But before the accident, Ian often lounged in bed at night, closed his eyes and thought up scenarios of the bullies, turning the tables on them. Very much to the scenario of Geoff, decked out in the stocks, his ass on the same plane as a guy's cock, Ian would jerk off as he imagined plowing the fields!
In their intimacy, following the accident, Bill had gained knowledge of Ian's bullying, so he used it to his advantage, "Get even. Get your revenge." Building the scene, "I'm the bully in school, in the gym locker room, the wood shop, every boys jon in the school. I'm the bully lurking around every corner."
"Wow! That's deep Bill," Ian responds.
"You want to get with it before I go soft?"
Not having handled Bill's cock or nuts, Ian was amazed at how he built himself up into a full erection, "Damn, Bill!"
"I need it. I need you now!"
"And who am I to refuse!" Ian replies, both joking, but more, his pulsing loins wanting it probably more than Bill's lust for it!
%
"Look," Barry finger-points to his watch, "we better get going. Soon it's going to be time to open up at the Bear Garden."
"It's only four o'clock?" Jef replies.
"Right and just before sundown things start taking shape, but if I don't get some shuteye, I'll be nodding off and you know what that means?"
Thinking scientifically, Jef says, "If you're sleeping on the job, guys are going to slip in without paying?"
"Exactly," but on Barry's mind, "except one guy I'll allow to go right by me!"
"Who?"
"You!" Barry replies, them getting up and leaving.
Right off, Barry figures they would be heading back to the mansion. Arriving, they find Michael and Sven have left. Not only left the mansion, but the country!
"I can't believe that Michael!" Barry says.
Rehashing what he's told Barry, Jef says, "Yeah. Sorry I forgot to mention it, but they had airline tickets to Cancun about a month ago. I heard Sven talking about it on the phone. But at the time he didn't mention Michael. He just said his `boyfriend.'"
On the same wavelength, Barry says, "Yeah and who would have guessed `Michael', that dirty rat, being his boyfriend!"
"I thought you weren't mad at Michael anymore?"
Replying to Jef, Barry morphs from sad to happy, "Not anymore, but I think it will be a sensitive issue with me for a while."
Jef asks, "Are you taking your nap in your truck?"
Smirking, Barry says, "Would be kind of tough for us, huh?"
"Us? You want me to take a nap with you?"
"Sure. How else am I going to fall asleep, without somebody rubbing my hairy belly?"
"Can you rub mine, too?" Jef asks.
"How about we rub bellies?" Though, Barry was thinking of rubbing other parts of the anatomy as well!
Entering the house, Jef was quick to escort Barry through it, out the back door, along the apron of the pool, cross the tennis court and, as Barry mentions, "I take it we're sacking out in the art studio?"
"Unless you want me to sketch you?"
"I think you `know' the answer to that, Jef!"
As they undressed, glancing between taking off a sock, to the other's bod, Barry thought about Jef's build. Not at all like he thought he would wind up with, big belly, a stripe down the middle maybe, he suddenly thought, all his aspirations of the build of owning his own bear-lover, it didn't matter. It didn't matter that Jef had more of a hefty, squared off bod, resembling a football player. He was still meaty. Thinking through, `meaty', especially when Jef had just depantsed his briefs, Barry smiled, like a chef presenting dessert at the end of a feast. For Barry, the feast was about to begin.
Taking the initiative, Jef lay his bare-self down on the bed.
"Well! Not giving me much choice, are ye?" Barry says, a swashbuckling end to his words.
Lying there, hands behind his head, Jef says, "You look so cool, Barry."
"Oh really?" his hand slipped down to his soft cock. "What is `so cool' about me?" he fondled himself.
"`That'," Jef read Barry's mind, "and," he shrugged shoulders, "everything about you!"
Even though he was feeling it in the crotch, Barry, as he knelt on the bed, allowed his bod to hang in the balance, kneeling up Jef's bod as he zoomed in for some lip-locking. After docking his lips, Barry's hand not only handjobbed himself, but latched onto Jef's soft stick and tried making both `hard'!
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Thomas, hovering over Justin, peering at both through the reflection in the mirror, gently kissed his shoulder, saying into Justin's ear, like it was going to be something sweet and affectionate, "What are wearing to the Bear Garden tonight?"
Turning, a gesture as if he was going to return that sweet affection, Justin replies, "Pretty much what we've got on, except some pants, socks and sneakers?"
Even though they had just exited from the bed and lovemaking, an amorous feeling came over both, talk of their later plans falling by the wayside.
"What'll we do in between?"
"We've got like five hours," Justin replies. "What would you `like' to do?"
"Sex?" Thomas replies, his hands all over Justin, lips returning to his shoulder.
"You like doing that, don't you?"
"Doing what?" Thomas asks, backing off somewhat.
"Cupping your lips and sucking on the top of my shoulder?"
"Me? How about you cupping your lips and sucking my pecs?" Thomas retorts.
"Felt awesome!"
"Awesome for you, sure, but incredible for me! You know you have a very talented tongue?"
"I know," Justin boasts. "I'm told I can really drive a man's cock wild with it!"
"Oh? And who would that lucky guy have been?"
"Checking up on me, Thomas?" Same time asking, the back of Justin's hand tells him Thomas is getting turned on. What kept a smile on Justin's face, his crotch wasn't reacting any differently!
Deciding with haste, it didn't phase Thomas anymore who had stoked up Justin's jewels. Right now, he was taking his own pleasure from Justin, hands down his back, arms caressing, lips locked and feeling the fever of true love.
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"Oh-h! Oh-h! Oh-h-h!"
With each thrust of his hips, Ian delivered a punishing blow to Bill's ass.
When they arrived down to the dungeon, Geoff was much too groggy to find his way home. Sagging in his bondage, spread eagled and tethered by wrists to hanging chains, the intense session of flogging, nip clamps, weights attached to an apparatus which appeared to be strangling Geoff's balls, was all way too much. Not too much pain for Geoff, but because the pain crossed over into sheer pleasure, combined effort of Bill's cock massaging his ass, Geoff didn't need to be stroked to get off. Right in front of him, on the floor, was the proof of his hot sex and pain session, a puddle made from several jerks of Geoff's cock. Too, when Bill was ready to come, he pulls out, whips off the condom and finishes beating off, his cup of creme shooting on Geoff's back. So, when he returned Geoff from bent over, literally pulling Geoff's chain, his arms shooting into the air, the creme dripping down his ass and melding with his own reservoir on the floor.
So much gloss, Ian was amazed, "That all from Geoff?" It's then it was explained to him, Bill so stimulating Geoff with the weights swinging from his balls, massaging his insides and about to come, too much for Geoff, then the little addition to Geoff's shot spunk.
Actually, Bill's explanation is what got Ian going, plus Bill saying to him, "I don't want you holding back Ian."
He knew this whole scene had been spawned from the accident, but Ian sensed there was more to why Bill was surrendering his will, as well as his ass to him, "Bill, why are you doing this?"
Getting around to asking, Bill had already opened the top beam of the stocks, placing his wrists in it, replying, "Because I owe you. Now come close this."
"I already `paid' you back. Remember?" Ian replies, standing there with arms across his chest. With right hand in the pocket of his left elbow, against his bod, it did phase him to feel up his own nip, but more his mind was on an explanation from his hot stud man.
"Look," Bill took his wrists out of the cutouts. Facing Ian, he was either lost for words or a little scared to reveal the truth.
"Well, say something," Ian provoked.
"I need you to do this for me," is all Bill said, adding, "unless you're too much of a woos?"
Bill `said' Ian could do anything to him, but mainly because Bill was pissing him off, gave his mind gaul enough to raise a hand to Bill and slap him right across the face.
"Oh shit!" Bill said, strumming a hand over his scruffy shadow.
Ian asks, "How come you're not beating me up?" like he thought was going to happen?
Surprised, Bill smiles, saying, "That's what I need you to do. What I need you to be for me."
"What? Slapping you around? I don't get it Bill."
"Ian, I know you're going to think this sounds crazy, but... I think you're hot Ian."
"Bill?"
"Yeah?"
"I think you're fuckin' crazy, Bill! How can you like me? You like fit guys."
Walking right up to Ian, Bill doesn't say anything, but places his hands on the top of Ian's shoulders, sliding them down, saying now, "I wanted to show you some affection for the longest time, but I suppose I was afraid what everyone would say."
"Uh, Bill, in case you haven't noticed, I have this round, hairy gut?" Ian planed his hand over his stomach, for effect breathes in and makes it bulge even more.
"I like it."
"Oh my god, Bill!" Ian exclaims, Bill bending over, tonguing from the middle of his chest, down his embedded strip of hair, right to the `first' target, his bellyhole. "Oh my god, Bill!" he again questions, but feels the sweet pangs of a wet tongue, Bill darting into his navel.
Retreating, but sinking to knees, "Nobody knows this," Bill says, a boyish grin on his face, "but I love sticking my tongue into a guy's deep navel. I'm glad you have one."
Scratching behind his ear, because this was all kind of weird, Ian waiting to wakeup from the sensual dream, "Uh sure, Bill. Thanks."
Down on one knee, Bill sinks into the submissive mode, "Would it be okay if I sucked your cock?"
Spinoff on Bill himself, Ian says, "I was just going to suggest that. You better get on it, before I give you a whipping!" He laughs.
Smiling, Bill replies, "If I don't do a good job, it might help to coax me on."
"Bill?"
"Yeah?"
"You're acting pretty weird!" Ian slaps himself lightly on the cheek.
"What was that for?"
"Seeing if I'm awake or if I'm dreamin'!"
Bill show him he wasn't asleep, very much awake when `wet' surrounds the tip of his cock.
"Wow!" Ian said, not only about Bill closing up around his cock, but the position he did it from, Bill on his knees, sitting up erect, his head cocked to the side to lick and suck, his hands clasped behind his back. This was the prelude to locking Bill in the stocks and Ian the ramming force behind a hot fuck!
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Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee
`BeaR GaRDeN' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.