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Give till it hurts...and if that's not enough, get with some s&m!
'YoGA MaT' 11
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
Before Randy and Phil could further their conversation on the interior of the kitchen out back, Sherman appears. Sean is with him.
Phil says to Randy out of the corner of his mouth, the fact they had just put the finishing touches on their wardrobe, after having shared a creamy cocktail, "that was a close one!"
Randy's elbow touching Phil's was enough to say, 'talk later', or not to mention further.
Sean and Sherman were just discovering the two, when Nick steps in the door from behind, "they told me I could find you out here."
Randy and Phil, in the kitchen, were clothed from the waist down, chatting in general, having lost the sexual edge.
"I can explain," though Randy thought no explanation was needed, being he and Nick were boyfriends and had not reached the point of calling what they had going, soulmates. "It's not how it looks," not which Randy cared how it looked, or for that matter, cared how it looked to Nick.
For Sean and Sherman, they were all ears!
Regardless of the other two onlookers, Nick didn't rightfully know what to call it, but took action to figure out what the gooey stuff was on Phil's fuzzy chest, "and what's this," he wasn't sure if it were indeed Phil or Sean, takes a wild guess "is it Sean?"
"No, I'm Sean," Sean steps from Sherman's side.
Since last night, Phil hadn't shaved, which the case, whiskers grew in rather rapidly, it confusing Nick, "we've met before, right?"
Phil 'felt' Nick's eyes on his chest, which has him glancing down, but not responding with wiping the bit of spunk off furry fibers, "briefly."
Randy jumps in with, "Phil was coming when we were going."
"Oh. Then that makes sense," Nick says, except this?"
Before he met Randy, Nick was more the alpha male of a pair up. Never would he ever think of taking a fingerful of spunk, stick it in his mouth and do a quick clean off.
Randy didn't know which was worse, feeling horny from his boyfriend's gesture of taking a sample of his spunk off Phil's chest, consuming it, or that it was a little embarrassing in front of Sean and Sherman. Using it as a vehicle to change the subject, "so, anyone up for some lunch?"
Even though not knowing each other long, Randy and Nick could communicate solely by eye-to-eye contact, which, with Randy smiling, told Nick, 'there is plenty more from where that came from.'
Sean, thinking it a good save of the situation, "Sherman and I we were just about ready to go out and get some food ourselves, weren't we?" he taps Sherman's tummy.
Having seen this small gathering wasn't looking up, but rather turning in on itself, heading back to more than a mere sexual nature, which Sherman would not have minded, given the right atmosphere, agrees with Sean, "I think that would be a good idea. Y'know, get to know each other and talk business?"
Not which Sherman couldn't put 'pleasure' above 'business'.
Not necessarily to fill up the pantry, Nick says, "well, you better think first about cleaning the place up. The fridge reeks!"
Phil jacks the fridge door open, "ick. Yeah. Wanna see, Randy?"
"Uh. No. I can like, sniff it from where I stand, Phil."
Seedy gesture, Phil places a hand on his own chest and using Randy's goo as butter, slides it down, adding a smile.
When Randy says it, it's Nick he was looking at, smiling.
Taking it as a message, Nick says with a stare, telepathically, whether Randy was getting the whole meaning, and even though his hand moved down his shirt instead of barechest, could go for some of the gooey stuff!
Fortunately, Nick kept his comments hidden, Sean and Sherman checking out some pots and pans under a counter.
This would be a milestone in their relationship, neither Nick nor Randy phased by the idea, if they met up with a cute guy, it was their call whether they went further than friendly conversation.
With Sherman saying something about how scratched up a pot is, it draws Phil away from Randy and Nick.
Thankful for the distraction, Randy says to Nick, "I hope you're okay with, you know?"
Nick moving in on Randy's territory, taking his boyfriend's hips with hands, "you don't have to apologize," he squeezes his bf's small asscheeks.
Then, standing there in the doorway, hips leaning towards the inner frame, arms folded across pecs, observing the sweetness that two men can share towards each other, it's Phil's boss, "now isn't this sweet?"
Apparently, Duncan and Tom had concluded their business, assembling themselves back together again and coming upon the backyard conglomerate, breaks anything up which was going on, "hey, anyone see Sean?"
Passing by Randy and Nick, Duncan gives the two a wink, but setting sights on the four, herded around a butcher block table with pots and pans set on top, is a little disappointed it was only for studying the quality of cookware, "how's the landscaping going, Sean?"
It does occur to Sean, how Phil's wet chest of fuzziness is waters down a bit in gooey paste!
Sean felt inadequate, that he set out to complete a task given him by his boss, Duncan, only to get sidetracked. However, the one thing he didn't want to do is get off on the wrong foot and lie, "I got a little sidetracked."
To who he was instantly forgiven, Duncan places one of his big hands on Sean's shoulder, allowing an arm to hang down his back and joining in on the pot-study, "what's with all this?"
Obvious, his attention was not on cookware, but rather Randy, Nick, Phil, Sherman, and his worker, Sean.
Being it seemed like Sherman was of equal height to Duncan, he reaches an arm across the table, "hi, we haven't met. I'm Sherman Sweetwater, new manager of the gym."
Taking Sherman's big hand in his equally as immense palm, "Duncan Balderston."
Hands connect. Words of 'hello', or 'hi' are exchanged, something more than meeting of the minds on a business level.
Sean picking up on this, "so, you guys were thinking of going to lunch?"
Hands disconnect, Duncan offering, "I know of a place we can get some decent grub around here."
Randy says, "it's only nine o'clock in the morning. Didn't you just have breakfast?"
Duncan fakes laughs, "nine o'clock breakfasts are for woosies. A real man eats at 5 A M!"
Sharing thoughts, maybe more, Sherman looks to Duncan, "nothing like grits, eggs and bacon to get a man up and out of the house early."
It hit Duncan, a hidden thought, which seeing Sherman's hand, at the end of his gestering, lying on his stomach, it gave his shaft a kick to think whether his gut was as tough as his. In the past, a hunch often led Duncan into a gut punching contest.
Duncan, more into assessing a man's physique, says, "I'd like to find out more about your gym," he was improvising, "you know, so I know how to properly landscape it?"
Sherman thought it a bunch of bullcrap, but liked Duncan was trying to make more than a business connection, "I actually do think the gym would look more dignified with a surrounding of bushes?"
Seeing Sean, who Duncan had thought Sherman's posture and good looks might have had an effect on, was glad the other guys were a distraction, enough to tease, "I take it you're not a one-bush kind of guy?"
How was Duncan to know Sean was keeping tabs on him, a multi-tasker when it came to men?
"Dunc was nice enough to buy me a cup of coffee on the way to work."
He looks to Sean, Randy saying, "Dunk?"
"Dunc, he's Marc's pool boy. Well, he's not exactly a boy, but he's just as hot looking!"
Sherman slips, "I'll agree to that."
Duncan was 'in trouble', with his employee's eyes set on him, well as the new gym manager. He didn't know what to think, or else without the time to think on it, "well, who's up for some vegan pancakes?"
"Vegan?" Sean says, with dismay, "yech! Not me. I want a tall stack of full fat pancakes, with all the trimmings."
"Yeah," Phil picks up on Sean's idea, "with bacon and gallons of maple syrup poured over it!"
To break up their morning klatch, two cell phones sound out the same chimes.
It's at this moment Nick and Randy realize they have the same melody.
Randy says, "is that you?"
Regardless, they answer phones, a nasty, but nice bicker, "Randy, where the hell are you?"
Nick receives a more polite invitation to get his ass back to the Pride Center, for some official business.
Taking Nick under his wing, Randy says, "looks like you're on your own for breakfast."
"We'll catch up with you later, Sean," Nick says.
Duncan was more than happy with the actions of his employee, Sean making a connection with Phil, leaving Sherman in conversation with Duncan. However, when they go to leave, Sean is highly opposed to the menu, "I think Phil and I will find our on diner for breakfast."
Duncan looked upon this as some 'son-of-a-gun', 'go-getter' in the world of business, rather than singling out the gym manager for his own, "have it your way, boys. You wouldn't catch me eating at some greasy spoon."
Whether Sherman minded it or not, he was more interested in Duncan's 'greasy spoon'. Nothing was set in stone for Sherman, which had been his catch phrase ever since coming out as a teenager, only to be thrown into the pool of 'sinners', exonerated by family and having to carve out a life of his own, with a different set of values than what he has been dictated to by mainly his grandmother. He was tired of being the 'sinner', striking out on his own to make himself a 'winner'!
%
Not the first time Randy Barrett has been in Tom's office, led there by Mat, it comes with the territory of being a 20-year old from South Dakota, who wakes up on a random morning, only for it to be his day in the universe to experience being caught off guard when faced by parents, friends, other associates, in opposition to being gay, like he had a choice?
Nick had a different story, being from a well-grounded family who accepted his being who he is. Thing is, they weren't so keen on publicizing to the world, so Nick let them off the hook and moved to a different state and town.
It had been a couple of years ago Tom found Randy digging out of the dumpster in the rear of the yoga studio, which was in the alleyway of the then boarded up warehouse out back. After dropping Nick at his truck, Randy headed in the back entrance, only to hear a noise coming from the 'same' predicament Tom had found him in.
It was then he ran into a 'viking', one hand holding the lid to a dumpster open, the other searching around inside, which prompted him to put himself into the situation with the shoulder-length blond.
"Too bad you have to go," Randy wasn't hurt, flagging Nick to go.
Watching the same dude almost halfway bent into the dumpster, Nick says, "bring him home for dinner, why doncha?"
Rather than prolong with sexy catch-phrases, Randy says, "you better go before Bill gives you hell."
"Oh, I can handle Bill," Nick says with a wink!
There was more to that than meets a wink, Randy having introduced Nick to the gay pride center manager, Bill. It yet has to go the distance, Nick finding just the right way to get his boss to come home with him, without creating a conflict of interests.
Conversation took hold rather quickly with the dumpster-dude, Randy having been there, picking through garbage, two years ago. Being on the road, whenever he came across a morsel of food, that became his property and to suffer from malnutrition could be a powerful tool for a guy to put up his fists. Using Tom as a role model, with a bit of Mat's diplomacy thrown in, he coerced the blond Norse man, "you can put your fists down."
With a hardened stance, the long, scraggily blond hair flowing to the sides of his head, obviously stinking, dirty attire, Randy again tries soothing the savage beast, "look, I work here at the yoga studio. There's a locker room with hot showers," he inches closer. "I bet it's been a while since you've had one?"
Slowly the elbows begin to cave, the sound of kindness melting him.
Just then Tom appears, yelling out the door, but also seeing the discheveled lad, "Randy, Mat's looking for you," running sentences together, "who's this?"
"I don't know," but Randy, from being there, "I caught him looking through the dumpster. I think you know how that goes?"
"Yeah," Tom says.
Randy leads, "I invited him to come inside for a hot shower."
He didn't apologize for it, knowing Tom did the same for him and was glad he trusted the studio half-owner.
Tom backs Randy up, "you're welcome to, if you would like?"
Not caring where the dude's hands last were, which could very well have been wrapped around his shaft, taking a piss, "hi, I'm Randy. I work here and this is Tom."
He looks down at Randy's hand.
Randy sums it up concisely, "look, you're not the only one that's ever been in this situation. A couple of years ago I myself was searching through the same dumpster for my next meal, until Tom came along and helped me out."
Tom was proud of Randy. He had come a long way from being mad at the whole world. He has figured over and over, 'kindness begats kindness', "I'll leave you two to figuring things out. Oh, and don't worry, Randy, I'll talk to Mat."
Randy didn't return Tom's smile, but appreciated the confidence.
Knowing, he hit the guy with what he knew would entice, "there's a refrigerator full of food inside, if that interests you?"
He knew it would, being when Tom found him, Randy was ready to charge inside without further provocation.
"Maybe. Like, what would I have to do for it?"
On the road, Randy knew what he had to do to keep from starving and sometimes the guy wasn't that hot looking, or had a tight ass.
"Why don't you come in and we can talk while you're eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?"
The layout of the rear of Mat's Yoga Studio, brought Randy and the drifter in the backdoor foyer, a small alcove with cubbies to leave boots and an umbrella.
Of the little the drifter carried, Randy says, "you can leave your stuff here."
The tall, hulk of a man, maybe not towering over Randy, but built like a tank, returns, "nah. That's okay. I'll keep my stuff with me."
On the road, Randy would have the same feelings about keeping his stuff together in one place. Failure to do so meant some of it would go missing, stolen by another drifter on the road, which has him saying, "that's okay. Whatever is right for you."
They had to pass by the kitchen on the way to the lockerroom and showering area, and all it took is one whiff of the sense of any kind of food, to have the drifter stop dead in his tracks, asking, "is this the kitchen?"
The lineup on the wall, sink, counter, refrigerator, stove, was a dead giveaway, Randy saying, "it is and the offer still stands for a pb sandwich."
"Okay, maybe one."
"Great," Randy leads him inside, "let me get the fixings."
Opening the refrigerator door, Randy knew it forbidden to pry into a lunchbag which didn't have his name on it, but seeing John's bag, labeled, he hoped there would be forgiveness when that day of reckoning came.
"You're in luck. There happens to be a turkey sandwich in here, complete with pickle."
Hunger can become a hunter and soon as Randy places the brown paper bag on the table, the drifter is tearing into it. No words, only sounds of tearing paper and two hands lifting the sandwich to a pair of lips, mouth opening and much as can fit, stuffed in.
Randy said nothing, knowing how hungry he was, after Tom found him searching and seeking, as he rummaged through the same garbage bin. He suspects Tom did the same, grabbed up someone else's prepped lunchbag, to feed him. Only difference, when he went to grab a cold water, he pulled the whole sixpack of bottles out. One cap was immediately unscrewed and contents sucked down. After the second and last bits of sandwich unwasted, there's finally a cough, followed by speech, "thanks."
Spotting a half-filled plastic of store bought cookies, Randy grabs them from the counter and carries them over. Setting them on the table. They are torn into.
"Hey," Randy goes to caution the guy, "you better slowdown," he touches the guy's sleeve.
For whatever reason, the arm is jerked away.
Not knowing what brought it on, Randy says, "sorry there, guy."
Realizing it was like, biting the hand that feeds him, he opens up, saying more than two words, "I'm sorry I did that."
Recognizing it, since he did almost the same thing to Tom, "I understand."
Little did Randy know, many people had used the same phrase, which has the dude say in a blaming tone, "how could you know what I've been through?"
"I don't," Randy says, relating, "but it's not like I haven't been in your shoes, traveling out in the world on my own." Like starting over, "my name's Randy and a couple of years ago I was found to be sorting through that same dumpster out back, desperately looking for food to keep me alive. I'm really thankful to have come across Tom and Mat. They fed me, found me a place to live and now I'm back in college and work here at the yoga studio. If they hadn't helped me, for all I know I could be dead."
He didn't consider himself good looking, but the blond with the multi-colored dreads, he was really handsome and coupled with words of reassurance, "my name is Daan."
"Nice to meet you Dan," Randy sticks his hand out, not caring if it was soiled by John's turkey sandwich, "I'm Randy."
"Um?" the guy says, holding five fingers up, which were covered with the remnants of the sandwich.
Randy took it anyway, "it's nice to meet you Dan. Um, I've got a sink over there to wash up!"
Feeling a little sense of trust, Daan says, "you're the first person that's given me something to eat without requiring some form of payment."
"I know how that goes," Randy says, "being I traveled from nearly on foot all the way from South Dakota to here."
"Wow, that's longer than me."
"Where are you from?"
"Maine. I headed west towards New York state and hiked down the Palisades, finding refuge along the way." Stuck in Daan's mind, "there was this one really nice guy in Jersey City."
He didn't elaborate, Randy not prying.
Randy volunteers first, hoping to have Daan let loose with his story, "I left home because I couldn't trust anyone. Not even guys I thought were my best friend, which sharing my secret, I guess it made a difference to them that a guy they've known all their lives, had to be straight. When I was treated more like an enemy than a friend, I knew the only alternative was to leave. How about you?"
"Yeah. That's it. You found me out," Daan reclines in his chair, happy that he could out himself and not feel the repercussions of doing so, in a bad way of thinking.
Only, as he sits back, he winces, uprighting himself once again.
"What's the matter?" Randy, sitting head on to Daan, leans forward.
Daan never knew the answer to the question of why his loving father did not embrace the idea of being truthful, coming out, only to be mistreated, but rather than explaining things now, "if that offer for a hot shower still stands, I'd like to take you up on it?"
Randy knew, even though yoga classes were over, some class members would still be lurking in the locker room and exposing Daan to that might not be the best possible of scenarios.
"I know you don't know me, but would you want to come back to my place and shower?"
"I don't know," Daan says. "Thanks for the sandwich, but maybe I should be on my way."
Trying to dissuade Daan, Randy knowing that if he did the same he might never have known Tom and his kind generosity, "I was about to make the same mistake."
"But you stayed?"
"Yeah and glad of it."
He thought Randy sounded very reassuring, in the way he spoke, something Daan hadn't heard in a long while, "I'd like to take that chance."
Randy was about to say something else, when Mat's voice can be heard, coming in the back entrance, "me, I have to be stripped down in less than five minutes and in class," at which Mat saunters past the lunchroom, stops, backs up and then looks inside.
Most likely it was because the guy sitting with Randy at the lunch table was not up to standard, cleancut detail, "is everything okay, Randy?"
First time Daan introduced himself, it was awkward, but feeling more at home with Randy, he gets up, extends a hand and when introducing himself in a more cheery repose, "hi, "I'm 'Daan, that's D-A-A-N Macson, which is the way us Scandavians spell it."
Randy smiled, catching on to the way the name was spelled.
"Nice to meet you Daan," Mat shakes his hand.
Tom wasn't there to supply all the answers, of which Randy felt on shaky grounds to take on some tough decisions, so lays it on Mat, "I was thinking of taking Daan back to my place to shower and get himself together?"
Mat knew it, how Randy could sometimes make a statement, fielding it as a question, "since I need to be in class in fifteen minutes, I think that might be a good idea, Randy."
"Will John and James be able to handle things without me for a couple of hours?"
Seeing no titanic castastrophies on the horizon, confident the two could run the show, "go. Take the rest of the day off if need be Randy."
"Cool. Thanks."
Daan says, "yeah, thanks."
No doubt though, as Mat walked away from two, hours from now Tom would be trying to convince him there could be another need for a janitor when the new gym opened, or something of the sort. As Mat stripped for his next nude yoga class, he thought of another reason why he was in love with Tom!
%
Mat, dressed in his yoga pants, checked up on how things were going with the tech guys, John and James, "how's business?"
While doing so, this guy comes parading through the lobby, Mat's back to him, until James signals him, "uh, Mat, you don't want to know this, but one of your class members is forgetting to cover up?"
Following James' lead, Mat turns around, sees Hasan with a towel entirely too small for his hips, trying to keep what's underneath, up front, hidden.
Grabbing a Mat's Yoga Studio sweatshirt off the rack, which sends the hanger boomeranging, he makes his way over, "uh, Hasan, a word?"
In Mat's estimation, a yoga towel, small, used for wiping the brow, not for covering a guy's privates, he motions for Hasan to take the sweatshirt.
Hasan makes excuse, "I am so sorry, but seems the towel I wore to class has vanished!"
"I can pretty much guess, being whenever there's a new member to class, our pranksters go to work on initiating him!"
Having a few minutes, Mat feels it his obligation to make sure no incidents occur between the lobby and locker room.
Hasan leaves, heading for the showers, all apologetic.
"You're not to blame, Hasan. As I said, some of the guys have a warped sense of humor."
When they get to the locker room, Hasan walks through the door, saying, "I'll get your sweatshirt back as soon as possible."
Feeling generous, or just pleased of Hasan's two-thirds naked bod, "keep it."
As the door closes, up the hallway comes John, "we've got a problem."
Having put much faith in John, possibly more than James, who has proved over and over again responsible, "a problem you can't fix, John?"
"It's Elton."
"The pride center fired him already?"
"No. Nothing like that. It's just that when I was speaking with him, he mentioned that if this guy from the store ever comes looking for a job, turn him down immediately and save us from the trouble of hiring him, only to fire him."
"Who are we talking about, Randy?"
"Elton says, at the store they called him 'Bumbling Ritchie,' that he was always detroying towers of canned goods and once unloaded a counter of iceberg lettuce onto the floor."
Stopping John, with a hand to his shoulder, Mat says, "are you getting a little ahead of yourself?"
"Meaning?"
"Have you met Ritchie? Do you know for a fact he lives up to his 'bumbling' name?"
"No."
"Then you can see what I'm getting at?"
"Of course. I feel like an idiot."
Mat says, "I've had faith in you since Tom hired you. You're young, inexperienced, but from this, I hope you look beyond prejudices and go with an open mind, John."
"Thanks, dad!"
"Wiseass, kid!"
Together they went to the lobby check in, just in time to find James down on all fours, helping this pudgy guy picking up the brochures which 'accidently' fell from the counter, fanning out across the floor.
"See what Elton means?" John says.
Mat says, "hush!"
Turning to one of the guys who was down on his knees, Mat says, "you must be Ritchie?"
"That's me!"
At first he didn't accept Mat's hand, but then reaches out and grabs it, "nice to meet you, is it alright if I call you Mat?"
"Of course. Now, why don't we go to my office for a little chat?" Then Mat snaps a finger, "oh wait. I have a yoga class," he finds himself in a dilemma, quicky making a corporate decision, "Sherman?"
Passing through, from the yoga to the yet to become gym, Sherman is caught between, "what's up?"
"Your first interview."
John smiles, filling Sherman in, "Mat's gotta strip for a class. He's using you for his scapegoat!"
The Asian has this quirky way of making everyone laugh, which follows, when he himself leads it off.
It's one thing which was an attraction for Sherman, after first meeting the twenty-year old, how a handsome face could get any 'prettier'. Then add the big smile and there you have it, John's face making a guy melt like a snow cone!
"Well, being you're in line for the next promotion, you should sit in."
A bit of jealousy coursed through James' brain, thinking he was an equal counterpart to John, being they both met up with Sherman nearly at the same time. He figured he should be getting the same attention, in regards to climbing the small ladder of corporate success. However, much as his mind wanted to disagree, James changes opinion, based on how much John has grown on him and rather than putting himself first, "you know, Sherm, don't forget that I'm the next in line, after John?"
'Eeny, meeny,' Sherman couldn't pick, "okay. That's cool," seeing a way out, "but who's going to mind the front desk when the gym opens?"
John says, "we're both good at it."
Already with his own opinion cemented in thought, James says, "but you're much better at ordering guys around, than me?"
"Really?" John hadn't thought about himself in such a way.
Sherman stood there, wondering what was on their minds. If only he could 'connect like zoom', he would realize they were thinking about their last sexual encounter, John demanding of James' mouth, where on his bod he wanted it, how beneficial his tongue could meet his needs, so on and so forth.
Mat, with the clock ticking away, "Sherman, you with me on this?"
He didn't wait for an answer, Mat 'in progress' with stripping down, shirt off, while hustling off to the locker room. When he got to the locker room, nothing amiss, other than being the last one to change out of briefs and long yoga pants, into standard yoga shorts. He knew he was breaking his own rule, not wearing a shirt, but of that rule it went kaput shortly after he made it, guys with only shorts and flip-flops as they traveled from locker room to class.
Something was up though, when he arrives at class. Instead of each naked man to a yoga mat, they were huddled in a double line. First time Mat was late, it played right into their hands, whereas they could spring their surprise on him.
"Okay, what's up? How come you all aren't warming up?"
It's then they pushed one of the class members to the front of the line.
Mat could be risque with his humor, being most of the class were gay, the two percent of 'other', going along cheerfully, "mm, I love your choice of who it is that will help me off with my pants!"
The twenty-nine year old was cool with it, "very perceptive, sensei," Lance stepping over, behind Mat.
So close was he, that Mat could feel the fuzzy chest on his bare back, but cautions without turning around, "okay, that's close enough Lance!"
They all laugh, but Lance didn't take heed, standing his ground and daring to chance it, of getting thrown out of class, banned from the studio, he thumbs Mat's yoga pants on the sides of the hip.
Mat had two choices, slap away Lance's invading digits, possibly turning something meant to be fun into prudish, embarrassing, or going with the flow.
Lance had actually hoped Mat would interfere with his outlandish gesture, but it didn't happen. Silently he was questioning why he was following through with what the others in the class had put him up to, when his conscience was telling him otherwise.
He finally decides to stick by his moral guns, drops hands and steps to Mat's side, excusing his actions, "just kidding."
Seeing almost a hundred percent decline in morale, plus Lance being heckled by the guys, doing something probably they were ashamed of doing themselves, Mat says, "well, Lance, how am I going to get these pants off without your help?"
Lance was shocked, "really, sensei?"
The wheels were turning in Mat's mind, "sure and if you don't mind, was wondering if you would do something for me."
With his mind in the gutter, Lance was hoping it was something like giving Mat a blowjob, "sure. Anything!"
Knowing what Lance was probably thinking, Mat comes no where close, "wondering if you would take my place up front and lead class, while I walk around and help on a one-to-one basis?"
"Oh, but I'll be crossing the forbidden seal?"
Mat rationalizes, "there's a difference between me inviting you and you inviting yourself."
"Lead the class," Lance wonders if he could do it, but jumps at the chance, "sure, if you think I'm able?"
None of the guys were saying anything. In their own opinions, three or four of the class could have fit Lance's shoes and led the class. Perhaps they were backing down on their hastiness to elect the one gullible member of the class.
Six feet tall, muscle-otter type of bod, ginger-brown fuzz from the bushy haircut, beard, down to his groomed pubes. In many ways of outward appearance, Lance is the epitomy of a hot man any gay man would want to be with. His shyness has always been his downfall, yet having Mat as a yoga instructor, he's watched how he's gotten business done. It also helps he's stuck around, pretending to read something on a bulletin board, when in reality he's been stalking Mat!
Lance was in acceptance, but has another thing on his mind, "oh, before I forget," he walks over and takes something from Randy, turns back and walks over to Mat.
Mat was surprised to find Tom entering the room, a very rare appearance, especially when he's supposed to be off, doing something else, "what's this?"
"Not sure," his partner says. "All I know is, your class has requested I be here."
Their minds connect, both with lower anatomy on their mind, something communicated by a smile engaged.
However, right now Mat had to forgo thoughts like that, "what's this?"
Hiding his fuzzy chest with the board, a brass plate affixed, Lance says, "in appreciation of all you have done for all of us this past year, we would like to show our appreciation."
Mat was overwhelmed, but also in a gesture of thankfulness and pranking, hands the placque off to Tom and takes Lance up in a full embrace, "thank you all for your gratitude," Mat's hand fondles Lance's shaft, "which in turn, I hope you won't mind extending my gratitude to each and every one of our class members."
Tom could see Mat's hand, wishing it was his cock receiving the accolades.
Though, not even Tom could hear or detect Mat's real thoughts of appreciation, inviting Lance over to his house for cocktails later!
Lance was surprised, at the end of class, members treating him with the same respect Mat would get, being thanked for leading them today. He even got from some, 'let's get together sometime', whereas most would only offer a 'hello' prior to this class.
Having been open for nude classes for a year now, it wasn't of total surprise Tom was at the class, being he was supposed to come in after class, hand out surveys and ask back by mail, or email.
When everyone had left, except Mat and Lance, Tom offers, "that's okay, I've got the music," he speaks of the soft yoga music that had been playing during class.
Mat turns around to Lance, bent over, rolling up his yoga mat, "by the way, Tom, since you're having a one year surprise anniversary party for me tonight, that I happen to know all about, I hope you don't mind is Lance stops by?"
Lance was taken aback, since he had just gotten to know his yoga instructor on a more personal basis, "you want me to stop by?"
Mat didn't say, but wish he had, Tom offering, "sure. You're one of the family now."
Tom didn't know why he said it, being he's seen Lance's lovely bod, but never really caught him up in conversation!
"Black tie and tux?"
"Nah," Tom informs, "yoga class attire!"
Mat quickly thanked Lance for bestowing the honorable plaque on him, but it was Tom who swarmed about the twenty-nine year old.
"Oh," Tom thinks of it with a snap, "you can bring your boyfriend."
"I don't have one. It's just me," Lance stands with his rolled up mat in front of his hanging shaft, almost like he's leaning on it.
"Oh, you live alone?"
"That's the gist of it."
Just then Nick stops in the door frame, "hey Tom, have you seen Randy?"
It was a long story to why Randy wasn't at the studio, Mat saying, "he's out of the building on special assignment." He also could see Tom had things well in hand, plus he felt gritty after class, wanting to hit the shower, leaves them with, "catch up with you tonight, Lance."
Tom knew the feeling of being alone, lonely, saying, "I'm in the mood for a new speedo to wear to the party. Would appreciate it if you could come along and help me pick one out?"
When Nick heard that, says, "you mean me, or him? And what party would that be?"
Lance started to explain, which thrilled Nick, being Lance looked kind of hot, especially since he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing.
Nick did have to mention, the fact Lance was shielding his cock and balls from a guy he didn't know, "hey, you don't have to do that around me. I know what guys look like!"
Tom jokes, "what Nick means is, he can't get fully hard and salivating without seeing the full picture!"
"Shut-the-fuck-up, Tom, that's not how it is at all," Nick declares, "he often says what other people think, when he's meaning himself."
Lance shrugs both shoulders and look from one to the other of the fully clothed men, "wow, never had two men fight over me before," he laughs.
Not which Nick minded, being his boyfriend has been having him sharpen on his cock-sucking skills, "what were you saying about a party tonight, Tom?"
Thinking his joke didn't go over big, Lance felt bad he said it.
Tom says, "since it's Mat's night, I thought I would pick up some special items, like a new speedo, to make things special."
Nick smiles, liking that idea, "what store around here sells speedo's?"
"None," Tom smiles, glancing occasionally at Lance's hand covering up his cock, "which is why, if we go now, we can make it to Braddock's in the city and back, in time for the party?"
Lance says, "what time is the party?"
"Ten or eleven, or whatever time we get there. Why, you have work? Plans?"
"No. I'm partnered in real estate, but have today off."
"Senior partner or junior partner?"
"I guess, senior. There's two other partners. We never discussed rank, but I've been there the longest. Why?"
"After Mat's party, we like to party afterwards, if you're up for it?"
"Afterwards?" Lance swallows. "I've never partied after a party. Like, how does that go?"
"First things first," Nick joins in on inviting himself along for the ride, "how about that trip to Braddock's?"
"I really didn't have any other plans for the day. Beside, 'Braddock's', I've heard of it but never seen."
Taking it as a 'yes', Tom says, "good. Go get dressed, I'll slip my shorts, gotta make a couple of phone calls and we'll go."
Just then, 'Bumbling Ritchie enters, holding rolls of toilet paper and having overheard, "did someone mention a road trip?"
Suddenly, the rolls, caught up in his hand, suddenly explode, unraveling all over the place.
Nick leans into Tom, "who's the hot cub?"
As Ritchie and Lance gather up things the best they can, Tom says, "his first day on the job and for his sake," Tom stutters, "or rather ours, maybe we should make it his last!"
Nick was getting other ideas.
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% 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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