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.
THe HaRDee BoYs 04 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Hey bro?"
"Everything set with Heinrich? Did you really get eight bucks an hour? Like when are you starting?"
"C'mon, I'll talk with ya as we're making tracks," Jason replies, walking right past the table.
Getting up, Jared felt light headed, sat down, then got up again.
Glancing back, Jason does an about face, asking, "You alright Jare?"
"I probably should've had something to eat with my two... and a half beers?"
"Come on," Jason replies, helping Jared up.
"No, I can do it on my own, bro."
But Jared couldn't do it by himself, Jason helping to his feet, placing an arm over his shoulder.
From out of nowhere, Heinrich appears, saying, "If you want, your brother can sack out in the back for awhile? Till he feels like making it back to the dorm on his own?"
Asking, Jason puts it to his bro, "What do you want to do?" It didn't go unnoticed, Jared and the tall German exchanging glances.
"Uh, why don't you go and check out the campus?" Jared replies. "No sense having me along to hold you back?"
To help Jason out with 'his' decision, Heinrich comes around the other side of the table and transfers Jared's weight to his own arm, saying, "Sure. A couple of hours of downtime and your brother will be back on his feet!"
"If you're okay with it, bro?" Jason proposes to Jared, releasing him into the pub owner's care.
He started out of the building, turning to see Heinrich's arm around his brother's back, Jared's arm up and over Heinrich's other shoulder, leaning on him for total support. He turned back, passing through both doors to the outside, a smile on his face, thinking of hearing about his brother's 'sound sleep' much later.
Coming out of the Wildwood Bar & Grill, he turned right, then thinking it was to the left, walked the other way. Then he wasn't sure which way it was back to the campus. Already, he had thought about taking Jared's car, but then how would Jared make it back to the dorm? He continued going to the left, but crossing the street, in case he decided to hitch. And, as luck would have it, the skies began looking cross, so he stuck out his thumb.
About one minute into hitching, a smart-looking trans am pulls to the side of the road. He thought for sure it was going to plow into him, but stopped short of a couple of feet from him. 'Whoa that was fuckin' close!' he thought, as he turned and walked to the passenger side, forcing himself not to get riled up.
As the window rolled down on it's own, he bends down upon hearing a male voice offers, "I wasn't going to hit you, you know?"
Peering in through the low set window, Jason replies, even though he thought he was going to be road kill, "I didn't think you were going to...." setting eyes on the dude, he immediately changed his story, from being demolished, his lines trickling out to, "...hit.. me?"
They exchanged glances for like two seconds, the driver offering the obvious, "Would you be wanting that ride?"
"Sure," Jason replies, pulling the door open after the dude leans over and jacks the handle. He explains, "I left my brother's car at the pub. He kind of got wasted, so I decided to hike back."
"Then it is good I came along!"
Running through Jason's mind was exactly the same thing. "Why's that?"
"Because you are walking away from the college and not toward it?"
"No fuckin' way!"
"My name is Sikandar Sadaqat."
"Jason Hardy," he greets the Pakistani. And to let Sikandar know his intentions, of returning to the college, "I live in the dorm at the college with my bro."
Countering Jason, whether intentional or for convenience, the twenty year old says, "I am coming back from soccer practice and going home. I hope you do not mind if I bring you back later. I will be late for dinner if I turn around now?"
At this point, Jason figured it an invite and how could he say 'no' to such a charming host? After all, back home in the sticks of Kentucky there weren't many foreigners and Jason would often chat with a few online. He had to admit those Middle Eastern studs were hot and now he was riding with one in the car!
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"You are not going to sleep in your clothes and get them all wrinkled up are you?" Heinrich strongly suggests to Jared.
Right at this moment, not too capable of making decisions for himself, Jared replies, "Yep," then his bod careens into the middle of the bed, his head socked into the pillow.
He had already left the bar in the hands of one of his patrons, a wannabee, glorified bartender. Besides, the place was dead, what with it almost near the dinner hour, the college population heading out for grub. In a few hours though, the place would be hopping, a local DJ on the scene to provide toe tapping tunes.
"I guess we will have to do this the hard way!" Looking upon Jared Hardee, the thirty-six year old bartender went right to it, sitting Jared up and removing his tee shirt.
It wasn't like he was in the process of molesting the nineteen year old, under the auspices of this not being their first time 'together'. His first year at college, Jared got a tip from Rick, the bartender down at the Wildwood, for a fee, would fuck the living daylights out of a willing victim.
For Jared it didn't go that way. Taking one look at the, then eighteen year old, Heinrich liked what he saw. Too, it must have been the backwoods accent which fit the picture of Jared Hardee. However, after that first time, both had an idea the next four years were going to be 'a ride'. And so it went, true to both of their expectations, Jared's first year, Heinrich has done some riding!
"Aren't you the perfect picture," Heinrich said as he finished stripping Jared, placing his socks on the old dresser. Placing his hand on Jared's chest, the small patch of dark fur in the middle, he used one finger to trace the dark trail line separating his abs, his hand lying flat when scanning over his stomach, a finger dipping in his bellyhole and then as he hit pay dirt, he caressed Jared's jewels.
It wouldn't be the first time Jared has conked out at the Wildwood and often the excuse was the same, 'too many beers and too little food'. Other times there wasn't any alibi, none necessary for when the two felt horny.
Knowing it would not be stimulating enough, without either of the two groaning and moaning because the other was doing something to his bod which was a total turn-on, Heinrich settled for stripping down, climbing in the sack with Jared, move him so his back faced Heirich's lightly haired bod, his nip rings against Jared's back, which at times Jared had wondered whether the scratching against his back, the nip rings were making marks on him or not. Regardless, Jared wouldn't know the difference as Heinrich hugged him till either he dozed off or Jared came around. In anticipation of the 'fun' beginning, Heinrich pressed himself more closely!
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"Damn! Back in Kentucky we had one rich dude in town who had a big house, but nothin' like this!"
Sikandar giggled.
"Really. You think I'm fibbin'?"
"No. I am not doubting you, Jason. It is the way you say Kentucky."
"Kentucky," Jason replies. "What's wrong with the way I say it? I mean I 'should' know how to say it since Jare and me have lived most of our lives there!"
"Let me say," Sikandar thinks a moment on it, "you say it, but you do not pronounce the 'y' like 'ee'."
"I don't see any difference," Jason says, saying 'Kentucky' over a few times.
"No matter. We better move or else father will be angry when I am... we are late."
Whistling, when Jason entered the front of the multi-windowed home, was an understatement of the decor of just the foyer. "Damn! This looks almost like a southern mansion!"
"Father had it built with a mansion in mind. Come," Sikandar directed to Jason, heading up the main stairway.
"The kitchen's upstairs?" he asks as he follows the Pakistani.
"We cannot appear at dinner like this. I do not know about you, but I need to shower and dress."
When they enter the upstairs room, what he thought was Sikandar's room, he asks, "Is the bedroom in here somewhere's?"
Taking it wrong, Sikandar replies as he stands there, arms across his chest, "Pardon me, but I have to say I do not cater to the practice of how you say, 'go to bed' with a man I hardly know?"
"Oh! No, no, no, no," Jason warding off his statement as it was taken, waving his hand as if saying hello, "it's not what I meant. What I meant is, I don't see a bed, so I was wondering where the bedroom is. Um, not for the purpose of... of trying to seduce you?"
Softening his attitude, Sikandar figured he 'did' indeed get the intentions of Jason all wrong, so he brushes it off, "This is called a suite. This room," he fans the room with his arm, "is for reading, studying and over here," the freshman says, as he opens a pair of double doors, "is the entertainment center."
"Damn! That sure is huge. Hey, you got any..." Jason lowers his voice, "porn?"
"Brokeback Mountain?" Sikandar suggests.
"I guess it's better than nothing. So, where's the bedroom?" This time he adds, "Um, not that I'm meaning for us to strip down and hit the sack or anything," he props a hand on one hip and says matter of factly, his other hand gesturing.
He thought the sitting room of the suite was large.
When Sikandar introduced him to the bedroom, Jason had quite another shock, "Hey, this room here has a sofa too!" Too, being keen on what Sikandar has said, Jason was careful not to pick out the first piece of furniture in the room, the king-sized bed.
But Jason was more startled, not by the wide proportions of the room, as he sat on the sofa, but Sikandar, reaching for the tails of his own soccer shirt and peeling it up overhead.
"Oh shit do you look hot!" So hot, it made Jason stand up, his jaw slacked open.
Putting two and two together, Sikandar reminds, "Remember what I said about the bed?"
Again Jason protests, "Oh no, no, no, no, no... don't get me wrong. I'm not suggesting we even sit on the bed. All I'm saying," he thinks for the right words which would not offend, "It must be the soccer that keeps you in such fine shape!" He thought it sounded logical.
A derailment of his own, Sikandar says, "We really need to hurry. Father does not like it when dinner is not served on time."
"Oh, so he'll be waiting for us?" Jason inquires, taking his tee shirt off overhead as he follows Sikandar, most likely to the jon. He is also thinking, 'such a nice tan, I'm envious! Shit! 'I' would need a few visits to the beach to get one!' Then again, in Kentucky they didn't have any beaches, as Jason thought of a beach as being hit by waves from an ocean.
When they get in the jon, Sikandar turns, seemingly forgetting all proper etiquette as he stares at Jason's shirtless bod.
"What? Do I look like I'm from Mars or somethin'?"
And how surprised Jason was, being read his rights in the sitting room and bedroom, when Sikandar walks up to him, planes the back of his hand over his midchest region, sliding his knuckles down his stomach as he says, "This.. this is a nice example of muscle."
"I think you are too," Jason replies, repaying tit for tat, feeling up Sikandar's black chest hair against the tanned skin, his palm coursing over the hairy pec. But then he forgot all about manners or anything restrictive Sikandar had said to him, using both hands to feel up the Pakistani's soft, furry pecs.
He wasn't being shooed away, Sikandar standing there, looking down upon himself, allowing Jason's hands to wander. "You like a man who is hairy?"
"Most of the guys back home, they're smooth. There was one guy in my gym class who was hairy, but I never got to touch him. Damn, you sure are nice and... soft?" After saying that one single word, Jason looks up, smiles because Sikandar is looking into his face, then drops his hands as he says, "Sorry. I guess I got carried away."
"We need to hurry."
Jason gulped, watching Sikandar turn the shower jets on, then go right into a striptease, no care to the world as he lowered his soccer shorts. He smiled, seeing two perfect ass cheeks encased in the back of the jockstrap. He was stretching it like a slingshot getting it off. Walking over to a hamper, he says, "All dirty clothes go in here."
But Jason's mind was on more than a dirty jockstrap, when Sikandar turned around to face him!
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A net-surfer-for-sex, Rick had found this very willing guy wanting his ass rammed, maybe even a second dude. On the outskirts of town, there weren't many road signs to guide a person. His internet pickup gave him simple directions, saying he couldn't possibly get lost, making the first right turn, go two miles along the lake, take the next right, then at the biggest oak tree you've ever seen, make a left, proceed up the hill and on your right is a house with a barn. His instructions were to meet him in the barn, to walk right on in.
Head on, looking at a young guy, Rick says in a boisterous manner, "Okay! Who wants it first?" A hand sent a message of his cock being ready, able and willing. Leaving a smile on his face, it quickly disappeared when the barn door closes with a thud. Turning around, Rick's hands shot up in the air as he turned lily white and exclaimed at the point of a gun, "Whoa! Now wait a minute right there, dude!"
An older man, perhaps in his mid to late forties, held the rifle in his hand, the barrel staring at Rick's chest as the guy dictates, "You can start by stripping those clothes off, boy!"
"Wait, um," Rick stalls. Figuring this might be the father of the other guy, the one he supposedly chatted with in the hookup room, Rick says, "Hey, I just came to fuck your son," he keys his thumb over his shoulder at the younger dude, "I mean... um, I can just do it and leave?"
"I'm not gonna ask you again boy. Strip!"
At that point Rick couldn't possibly protest, what with the man turning the butt end of the gun on him, shoving it into his gut. "Hough-h-h-h-h-h!" Rick doubled over, holding his stomach, coughing and trying to breath at the same time.
Trying to cope with his own grief, he wasn't paying attention to the slurs being pounded into his ears, something about this guy's son, about what 'he' did to him. What he heard, but didn't want to believe what he was hearing, the man shouted with animosity, "You're gonna pay... You're gonna pay for what you did to John!"
"John?" Rick said in a worn out, exhausted manner as he breathed heavily. Holding his gut still, he looked to the young dude, calling him 'John', but wasn't responding. His face wasn't familiar when Rick walked into the barn and him not acknowledging, he then had the idea this wasn't 'John'. But then again, Rick might not have recognized this 'John', since over the past year he's been in and out of so many guy's asses, sometimes he didn't get a look at their faces. But more important was the matter now of him being man-handled, a guy on each side of him, his wrists pinned behind his back, as he was being escorted 'somewhere'.
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"I am done. You can go in now," Sikandar says, exiting the shower. "Oh thank you," he replies as Jason hands him a towel.
The two scraped bods as they entered and exited the rather large, plate glass shower stall.
"Dayum, will you look at this assortment?" Jason could be heard saying, as the jet of medium warm water hit him in the chest, admiring the different 'flavors' of bath gel.
"Orange-lime zest is one of my favorites," Sikandar suggests, propping the large plate glass door open.
"I thought we were in a hurry," Jason replies to his host standing there 'too long'.
Returning the smile, Sikandar says, "I will leave you to your privacy."
Turning around, reaching for the zesty bath gel, Jason smiled, thinking if Sikandar really liked 'the view'! However, he quickly extinguished the idea as the scent of the bath gel took over. Coupled with what has transpired thus far, Jason fell into a reverie. At first both hands massaged his arms, chest, stomach, but as his right hand strode back to his chest, the other fell south. "Oh yeah," he said thinking as if his hands were coursing over Sikandar's bod.
Suddenly a knock came at the shower door, with warning, "Hurry, please!"
Speeding up the works, he knew there would not be enough time to finish off his hardened state, so turned the hot water down. "Ie-e-e-e-e!" he exclaimed when the water changed to almost ice cold. He cursed himself out for allowing his mind to wander, as well as his left hand and as if fucking a guy, but remaining in a stationary, jutting position, he tried to position his torso so the cool water rained down on his pubes. He was sweating it out, as another knock, final warning came to the shower door. However, he entertained the thought, when Sikandar told him it was time to come out, him telling Jason, 'or else I will have to come in there!' "Nice," he said though, exiting into a waiting towel. But turning around after clutching at the corners and wrapping his bod up like a tortilla, he says, "Hey, what're you dressed for?"
"Dinner," Sikandar replies and knowing Jason had another question, he answered it before spoken, "My father requires formal attire."
With the towel tucked in around the waist, he followed Sikandar, all decked out in what looked like a tuxedo, he mentions, "Um, one problem. I like don't happen to have a tux on me at the moment?"
"I think we are the same size," Sikandar replies, holding up a hanger with jacket and pants hanging from it.
Height, sure, Jason figured out, but on his mind was really what 'size' Sikandar would be, when his shaft was as hard as a rock. But starting to feel all tingly under the towel, he put a halt to that! "What about a shirt?" he says, trying on the jacket first.
He thought Sikandar weakening when he tells him, "If I had my way, we would not wear shirts to dinner!"
"If I had my way, we'd wear less than that!" Then, switching off, "But you, how many days a week do you go to the gym?" Jason says, stripping the jacket, the only article of clothing he had on at the moment.
As Sikandar helped him into the white shirt, he says, "Go to the gym? We have a full gymnasium out by the pool."
"Don't tell me," Jason guesses, "tennis court too?" He finishes buttoning the shirt, takes the pants from Sikandar and steps into them.
Approaching Jason with the bow tie, one needing to be fashioned into the real thing, Sikandar replies, "Yes and do you like basketball?"
"Daymn!" And then answering the question, "Sure. Jare and me used to shoot hoops in the driveway." He smiled, staring into Sikandar's face as he proceeded to tie the bowtie, talking basketball, most of the subject going right over his head!
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Protesting, "What the fuck are you doing with me," the older man and what Rick summised was his son, forced him deeper into the barn, passing through another doorway. Sensing two things, 'danger' and he might have an 'extended stay', he shouts, "I got buddies who know where I am, if I don't get back to the dorm in a couple of hours!"
"That's strange. Luke here told me you claimed if you told anybody where you were going, they would want a 'piece of the action'?"
Rick 'did' remember saying it and cursed himself out. "Still, I'll be missed if I don't get back to the dorm!"
Ignoring him, the older guy, now holding him in a tight fit, arms behind his back, curves elbows putting him in a hold which squeezed his shoulder blades together, dictates, "Get the hatch, Luke!"
Another thought came to Rick, the force by which he tried to squirm loose was having no effect on the restraint of his captor, figuring this guy must see the inside of a gym seven days a week. But the more he struggled, the tighter the grip, the more it produced some excruiating pain. He yelled out at one time, "You're fuckin' hurting me mister!"
The guy laughed, saying, "Get used to it!"
He was pushed forwards, falling about one story into a square hole packed with straw, furnished for his descent after the one called 'Luke', held the square door from closing.
Down into Rick's 'prison cell', the man shouted, "Get some rest. I want you nice and fresh for your ordeal!"
Rick protested, but it didn't do anything for him, Luke allowing the door to slam shut. "Oh shit!" he thought to himself as he sat in the soft hay.
As for being missed, the only one who would 'really' miss Rick, was Jared.
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"Hey!" Jared whistles 'attention', "Hey Heinrich," he shakes the bartender to his senses.
"Oh, I must've dozed off."
"I kind of have a hangover. Got anything for a headache?"
"I sure do!" Heinrich replied. Even though he was sleeping, the dream he was having, had prompted a hand to provide stimulation.
"What the hell were you dreaming about?" Jared questions him, Heinrich turning over and the sheet automatically tenting.
"You?"
"I don't buy that," Jared replies.
Heinrich then confesses, "There were two of them, the hottest young dudes you've ever seen. One as smooth as a peeled cucumber, the other nice and hairy..."
"As hairy as this?" Jared inquires, tugging on some of Heinrich's chest fur.
"Even more so. So much hair it looked like a fuckin' forest!" He was making it dramatic, because he knew how much Jared loved licking his hairy pecs.
"Cool! So then what happened?"
"The usual, the two go at it licking me up and down, fighting over who's going to suck my cock or balls, then two hours later I'm taking turns fucking their asses."
"And in your dream," Jared tread slowly, "did you happen to come?"
Turning on his side to face Jared, Heinrich says, "Of course not. I was saving it for my 'favorite' tight ass!"
As it went, when Heinrich got into talking sweet, he followed with some lip action.
Into it too, Jared exchanged a French kiss. "Oh fuck!" he shouts when Heinrich mashes both his nips.
"You like that. I can tell," came the dialogue which always followed.
And as fresh as the first time, Jared asks, "How can you tell?"
Immediately, Heinrich's hand ventures further down Jared's tummy trail, over his navel and smoothes his hand over the hairy pubes, before handling the reason he knows Jared has liked the nip torture.
"Oh-h-h-h-h!"
Then, disengaging, falling on his back, he says, "Your turn," parking his hands behind his head.
"Mm-m-m-m. I suddenly feel very hungry!"
"Well we don't have much time, so get right on my bratwurst!"
As he positions his bod so he's rooming between Heinrich's spread-eagled legs, Jared comments, again not a surprise to his top's ears, "I love being your cock-slave!"
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Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee
`THe HaRDee BoYs' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.
The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....