The following story is a work of fiction set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature, and is not meant to accurately reflect persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas, in which the story is staged. If sexual scenes involving male to male relationships offends you, then 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 by law. This is fiction. Don't forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety matters'; got condom?
"Collecting Things" 09 (M/M oral bdsm) wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
"All this is sweet and all, Rex, but I've gotta get moving."
"I wish we didn't have to, Michael."
After planting a sweet kiss on Rex's lips, Michael made his move.
"Michael?"
"Yeah Rex?"
"I'm still not budging on my father."
"I know your not, but we've got to really think this out. One thing though."
"What's that, Michael?"
"I think you've really got him over a barrel, with the 'collection' you've assembled, but we have to be careful."
"'We', Michael. You mean you're into this with me?"
Standing there at the foot of the bed, wanting to get started with his morning shower, he couldn't tear himself away from the boy, growing into manhood, that he's wanted forever. Kneeling on the bed, his cock and balls swung feely as he crawled along the eighteen year old's legs. Rex did take notice of the swollen nubs protruding from Michael's hairy chest.
"Am I that alluring, Michael?"
"You don't know that half of it, Rex."
Planning on kissing those enticing lips, Michael also noticed the look in Rex's eyes, staring at his pecs.
"Go ahead. I know you want to, Rex."
"Nah."
"Yeah. Do it!"
Whom was controlling whom?
Picking up his hands from his sides, both thumbs and index fingers moved slowly, then caressed the hardened nipmeat.
"Ooooooooooooooooh!" Michael sighed long, arching his back.
As his back dipped low, his half soft shaft began to harden up. The tip dove down, just missing Rex's bellyhole. A quarter of an inch more and Michael's 9c would be fucking into it, if it could fit into the thin navel.
"Akkkkkkkkkkooooooooohhhhh!"
"I can't believe I'm making you love this, Michael."
"Do me as hard as you want, Rex."
Taking that as leeway to experiment, Rex switches from soft fingertips, to nails. Digging in lightly, he waits for further approval.
"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkooohhfuckin'yeaaaaaaaah!"
Now Michael's cock is trying to dip into the well of Rex's stomach.
"Feels nice for me, too. however...."
Letting go of Michael's nips, he hears the disappoint in the detachment. However, it's only temporary, as Rex pulls himself up, escaping from under Michael's bod.
"Ready for some real nip action, Michael?"
"Same as last night?"
The smile painted on Rex's face, shows Michael the truth. Trading places, Michael lays down on the bed. One difference, Rex seeks to lay Michael's hairy thighs on his shoulders. He doesn't even seek out lube and without any inclination, delivers the stabbing fuck.
"OOOoohhhhhfuuuuuuuck!" Michael calls out.
"You fuckin' better believe it, Michael!" Rex delivers the truth.
To calm the reaction, Rex knows how to push Michael's buttons, or rather pull them? With his fingers back in action, Rex brushes the hair away from the protrusions and then latches on to them, at first twist the two nubs easily, as he makes sure his balls are to the wall.
"Ooooooooh yeah... ooooh fuckin' yeah!" Michael clamors, in sweet reference.
Rex, seeing that he's claimed Michael's nips, decides to venture further. Removing one hand, he reaches over in front of himself. With the back of his hand, he separates Michae's hard-standing shaft from his big balls. He smiles when he see Michael's own hand replace the lost one. This kicks in his malevolent side. With one swipe, he shoos Michael's hand away from his nip.
"Hey!" Michaels says, then smiles, saying, "Felt good."
"I know it did, but you'll touch your nips only when given permission, Michael!"
"That's what I get for telling you that you own my body. No problem, Rex."
However, as Rex begins to toy with Michael's privates, with both hands, Michael yearns for the nip stimulation.
"Miss it, do you?"
"Miss what?"
"My hands on your nips. Don't you think that you're fooling me one bit, Michael!"
Almost blushing, Michael smiles, giving himself away.
"I might have to train those nips to behave themselves, with some clamps."
"Whatever you say, Rex."
"If I didn't know any better, Michael, I'd think you were turning into a painpig."
"Hey, only for you, Rex. Anybody else, better keep their mitts offa my nips!"
Even thought Michael had a convincing act, Rex knew he was hooked.
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"Looks like we're back to square one, John."
"Ben, I'm really sorry. I thought we had something going with Michael and Rex, then they go off and do their own thing, then it's John and Steve. I know how you like pain, Ben, but I can't do it to you."
"I know, John. Don't blame yourself. There's gotta be another topguy out there for me."
"I know, but it seemed that Michael was perfect."
"Yeah and I liked the way he handled the strap on me."
"But sometimes I worry about you, Ben. You let it go too far."
"I know you like the slaveboy stuff, the discipline and bondage, John, but I've gotta have the pain."
"It's not that I don't understand, Ben. I know you crave the pain and have to have it, but I hope you get a guy as understanding as Michael."
"C'mon John, we better start trimming the bushes."
"Yeah. Should take a couple of hours and then we can move on."
The two might have been downcast, but they had each other. It's like it's been over the past few years, for the two cousins. Now they had an even more special connection. At least they would have a warm body to sleep next to at night.
%
"That was the hottest fuck, Rex!"
"I'll say."
"Yeah, but I've really got to get in the shower. I've got some loose ends to tie up today."
"Like?"
"You dwell on your father. That situation is going to take a lot of brain power."
The two had goals today that they hadn't relayed to each other. They showered together, but each on a different wavelength.
Michael's main focus had been to seek out the owner of Milano's Landscaping and pay him an unexpected visit. He hadn't forgotten about the sweet revenge he planned for Robert Milano taking advantage of Ben, eagle-spread in the backyard, at the shed. After his thoughts of Milano, he then thought about Ben and John. He liked them immensely, especially, like a werewolf, when Michael turned to his dominant lust. On the other hand, he though of John as a sweet guy. Slaveboy material, for roleplaying, but not of the calibur, matching Ben. Over breakfast, Michael felt driven to find out more about Rex's feelings on the subject of the two.
"Rex, did you forget about John?"
"What about him?"
"I dunno. I thought last night you said something to the effect that you might like having him around."
"I have you, Michael."
"True, but him and Ben do seem like such nice guys."
"They are. Michael, are you concerned about losing your playmate?"
"Who me? In what way do you mean that, Rex?"
Rex could almost match Michael's feelings at this moment. He too, began to rekindle thoughts about John.
Realizing the implications, Rex spelled out, "Are we kidding ourselves again, Michael?"
"How so, Rex?"
Michael sensed it too, but played along.
"You and Ben and John and me?"
"Yeah," Michael conceded, "who are we fooling?"
"So, what are we going to do about it, Michael?"
"Didn't we already say something about them getting a college education and moving with us to Mammouth Falls, for the fall semester?"
"We need a place big enough for the four of us."
"Six, you mean."
"Oh yeah. Forgot about your brother and my dear friend, Steve."
"Yeah. It did look like Phil and Ben hit it off."
"Is he going to make you jealous now?"
"Oh no. Phil and I always shared!"
The two laughed, then looked at each other strangely, when Phil entered the room, not accompanied by Ben, but rather Steve.
"Where's Ben?"
"Ben?" Michael's little brother questioned.
"Yeah, I thought you and he latched on to each other yesterday?"
"Yeah, but I think Steve and I are more suited to each other."
"Oh?" Rex jumped into the conversation, "then what about you and John, Steve?"
"Oh yeah. He's a real nice guy, but I think Phil and I are more for each other."
Rex and Michael again traded stares. Steve, like usual, helped himself to the breakfast fare, Phil following.
"Excuse me," Michael cordially said, getting up from the table.
Leaving his nearly full plate of breakfast foods, he made his exit.
"What's wrong with my bro?"
Steve prodded, before an answer could be met, "Yeah, what's wrong with Michael?"
"Never mind you two. You just carry on with yourselves and don't worry about anybody else," Rex replied, coldly.
Phil and Steve didn't honestly know what was going on. After all, yesteday it was the two of them tied together in bed, with Michael and Rex playing with their bodies. Where John and Ben fit it, they didn't exactly know, except for their nighttime bedroom interlude.
%
Michael approached the two, busily cutting the hedge that lined the drive. Spotting the long extension cord, he figured they must've run out of gas. He unplugged the main conduit that fed them the energy.
"What the?" Ben called out, turning towards the source.
Michael smiled, seeing Ben with the long-bladed electric cutter in his hand, the goggles over his face and his raised up belly tee, lowering when putting down the cutter. John followed his lead.
"We'll be done in about an hour and a half, Michael," Ben reported to him.
"Good. Then come into the house. We need to talk."
That's all Michael said, turned, plugged them back in and walked back towards the house.
"What was that all about, Ben?"
"I guess he wants to make sure we get what's due us, in salary, before we clear out."
"Was sweet while it lasted, huh Ben?"
"Yeah, John. Real sweet," Ben replied, starting up his cutter, but feeling the remnants of the stinging whipping on his back, in conjunction with the movement in his pants.
%
Michael sped along the country roadside, in his 4x4. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to the owner of Milano's Landscaping and not even positive that he wasn't going to react physically. All he knew is that he had a score to settle, on Ben's behalf.
About ten minutes on the road, he jambed on the brakes, after passing a bicyclist, leaning over his bikeseat.
"Hey, you alright there?"
Jumping from the cab, Michael walked back the two hundred feet, til he stood face to face with the cyclist.
"Having trouble?"
"Busted wheel."
Looking down, Michael could tell that the rim of the wheel was contorted.
"Doesn't look fixable, from this standpoint. I can throw it in the back of my truck, if you want a lift into town?"
As the cyclist removed his helmet, Michael's eyes lit up, wanting to become more accomodating.
"Thanks, mister. I'll grab my gear, but please be careful with the bike."
"Oh, I will."
While the cyclist towed his gear in a backpack and helmet in the other hand, Michael hauled the Trek bike up in two hands.
"Lightweight."
"Yeah, it's a good bike, but no good with the wheel like that."
"Have an accident with it?"
"Sort of. This guy almost cut me off and I swerved, hitting the gravel on the shoulder."
"That can do it."
"Are you into bikes, um..."
"Michael, Michael Sardi and you?"
"Forgive my manners, Rico Santiago."
After placing Rico's bike in the back of the 4x4, Michael gave him a delayed handshake.
"Where are you from, Rico?" The smalltalk began.
"Do you mean my country or my home, here?"
"Either."
"Originally, my family is from Chile."
"Santiago, Chile?"
"No, but close. My family make their way to California and then I leave home for crosscountry trip, however looks like I'm stuck."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. In fact, Michael... the truth is that I don't have money to pay you and to get my bike fixed."
Michael wavered the fee and told Rico that maybe they could pick up a wheel in town and change it themselves, to save money.
"California is not that far. Is it that you didn't plan on your expenses carefully enough?"
After a moment of silence, Michael knew Rico didn't care to elaborate on the matter. However, Michael was the prying type.
"Want to talk about it?"
Of couse Rico wanted to, but the twenty-one year old was the shy type.
"Alright. No problem," Michael resigned the fact. There could be other peaceful means of extracting information. "I was just on my way to have some breakfast," he lied, "care to join me?"
"I don't have any money... well yes, I do have seventy-five cents I think. What can I get for that?"
"Oh, maybe a napkin. C'mon. My treat, Rico."
"No thank you, Michael."
"Why not? I'm offering to pay."
Michael sensed Rico had his guard up.
Rico figured that he didn't have much left, so gave in.
"Okay, but I'm not really very hungry."
The place they went into wasn't the country club, but pleasant. Rico noted that the man behind the counter knew Michael, coming around the bend to give him a hug. Some other people acknowledged him. Deja vu came over Rico. This scene resembled the same way in which he got ripped off of his money, a few towns ago.
"Let's sit here, shall we, Rico."
"Okay," he replied, shakily.
"I can recommend the home fries and ham. They have the best coffee."
"I'm not really hungry."
"Yeah sure. You've been traveling for God knows how long, without any cash and you're not hungry?"
Rico began to say, "You can have the bike. It's not their top of the line, maybe worth about eight hundred, new. The gear is worth about four hundred and..."
"Whoooooa wait a mintue there, Rico. I don't want your bike, nor your gear. Um, are you interested in telling me why you're offering it?"
Rico looked up from his lap, when a pretty, young girl brought two cups of coffee and set them in front of Michael and him. Michael gave the order in for one meal and then used his gift of prying.
"So, what's this all about, Rico?" Michael asked, eyeing up the deep brown skinned Latino, his hair mussed from the bicycle helmet.
"Look, I leave California with all I have, nine hundred dollars. Men jump me, beat me and take my money. They no take my bike. Then I come to your town. I get run off road and my bike a ruin."
"Where did the robbery take place?"
"Two, maybe three town before I come here."
"And what happened?"
"Like you, they offer food, shelter, then two of them hold me. Older man beat me, then they take my money and leave me with my bike."
"I wonder why they didn't take your bike?"
"They say they make 'quick cash' offa me. My stomach still sore."
"Hmm... I'm going in the jon. Follow me in two minutes, Rico."
"I have no more cash."
"I don't want anything from you, Rico, but I think I should check your injuries."
"But..."
"Hey, I'm not interested in ripping you off. I live in a mansion and have lots of cash. I don't need your money. Comprendo?"
"Si," Rico replied.
"I have to take a leak anyway."
Rico watched Michael's back disappear down a narrow hallway. He was taking a chance, but it wasn't only his stomach that bothered him. The hispanic wasn't sure it was the soreness from getting his gut punched over and over, the growling from not having a meal in the last few hundred miles, or if it was the pulsing sensation in his loins. He wanted to find out.
%
After leaving Steve and Philip, Rex retreated to the comforts of his room, taking a Gatorade from the kitchen fridge. He loved it when the cook offered to open it for him. Francois, dwarfing his own age by about forty years, didn't mind having some light conversation with him, from time to time. Rex had to actually laugh at himself. Here he was settling in with a thirty-four year old. In reality, Rex liked older men. Even Francois, in his later fifties, turned Rex on somewhat. He knew some history of Francois, unmarried, but didn't know which way he swung. Maybe before going off to college, he would do some enticing!
Reporting to the monitor, he fired up the harddrive.
"First things first," he chatted with himself.
Flipping though some files, digging deeply into the inner recesses of this and that file, he came across one marked, 'Dad's business'. A couple of folders later, he came across one file that had a long list of names. Of course, for his interest only, they had been all 'male' names and in alphabetical order. He scanned the long list, maybe a thousand of so, pinpointing every male with the first name of 'James' or 'Jim'. He did stop to highlight 'Jimmy', copying and pasting all the entries and storing them in a separate file.
"Wow! Quite a list!" Rex exclaimed to himself.
He looked upon the two hundred or so names. Corresponding with each, the information comprised of address, phone number, email address and their date of hire, separation date, if applicable, and birthdate.
Right away he highlighted and deleted any age where it would make that 'Jim', 'James' or 'Jimmy', over thirty. The derivitive of 'James' that he looked for, would need to be thirty or younger. Rex also wagered that his 'James' would reside in the United States. That killed about forty entries, highlighted and deleted.
"Hmm," he thought, racking his brains with some more strategic logic.
Next, he decided to delete 'James' names from the outer boundaries of the US.
"Wait a minute.. wait a minute..." he repeated over and over, pinpointing the name that jostled his brain, appearing almost dead center of his screen.
The email address stuck a strange chord: overthebottom@ hotmail.com.
"That could mean a 'top'."
Of course, it could mean nothing too, but the more Rex studied it, the more he was convinced that this had to be the 'James', well Jim, that he had found out to have a bdsm affair with his father. Not discounting the fact that he could be wrong, he singled out the entry, highlighted it, copied and pasted it to a separate wordpad, then saved the others to his harddrive. He inserted a CD and saved this 'James' info to it.
Next, Rex began a halfday search, trying to find out about this one, James Hilton. After using the email address, to contact him, he turned his attention to the search engines.
%
"You take my bike and not beat me?" Rico said to Michael, who had just finished shaking his cock, after tinkling.
"I told you already, Rico. I'm not after your possessions, but I am concerned that you are physically fit, so if you want to unbutton that shirt."
"My shirt? You sex fiend, maybe?"
Now that matter did cross Michael's mind. After all, this Latino was quite a handsome dish. Right now, though he put those thoughts away, wanting to geniunely help out this poor guy.
"Look, let's forget this. I'll take you to a doctor I know and..."
However, against his intuition, Rico began to unbutton his shirt. A couple of buttons missing, he skipped to the one near his bellybutton and then pulled the shirt from his pants.
"No belt?"
"They take that too. I have nice silver buckle."
"Damn fuckers!" Catching his cursing in front of the near stranger, Michael apologized, "sorry 'bout that, Rico."
"It okay. I know what fuckers are," he replied to Michael, a wry smile on his face.
Michael smiled back.
"Hmm.. you've got some bruises there on your stomach. Hurt?"
Out of habit, when playing with his playmates, Michael often touched the area of 'damage'. He did the same with Rico's belly, the bruises on both sides of the dark trail that divided up Rico's stomach. For the moment Rico felt good that Michael didn't notice the stir in his pants, when the back of his hand brushed along his thin, black trail.
"Nice... I mean.. I think if you didn't flinch, Rico, that you're okay."
Maybe Michael didn't notice Rico's package, but Rico sure did notice Michael's.
"Did you... um... go?"
"Go?" Michael asked, wondering what Rico meant, then replied, getting it, "Oh yes. I already went. Why?"
Partially blushing, Rico replied, "It look like you have to go."
With the obvious subject matter almost out in the open, Michael smiles, then reaches for his zipper area, groping it.
"Shows that I like you, does it, Rico?"
Suddenly the calm of the room dissipates. Rico, sullen with fear, backs away.
"I maybe leave now.."
"No, Rico.. Um, I didn't mean to frighten you. Look," Michael spelled it out plain as can be, "I'm not going to use this on you, if that's what you think. No... in fact, I'm leaving now. I'm going back to our table. The breakfast should be served by then."
Like he said he would do, Michael exited the jon and reported directly back to his seat. Rico, thought that maybe he could trust this Michael, so buttoned up what few buttons he had left on his shirt. Using the sink, he freshened himself up, combing back his long, wet hair with his hands. In the mirror, he looked at the stubble on his face, that for now, he couldn't address. How he wished he could be back home, dressed in nicer clothes. He dreamed for a minute, taking in the sight of himself dancing at a party, dressed in his tuxedo or a more flavorful outfit. When another patron entered the jon, Rico made his exit.
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continued.........
Copyright 2005 T. Chase McPhee All Rights Reserved.
Permission is NOT granted to publish
this story to any PAY site, nor any site
other than www.nifty.org, without the
author's prior consent.