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Give till it hurts...and if that's not enough, get with some s&m!
'YoGA MaT' 16
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
Steven glances to the back of the van with words, "whatsamatter, Logan, you look like you've lost your pet dog?"
He was about to name `best friend', but realizes how attached, already, he is to Ritchie.
Out from the house, to the supermarket, Logan and Ritchie were quite chatty, but five minutes from their destination, the atmosphere began to cool.
"Oh nuthin'."
"I doubt that," Steven says, being most of Logan's woken hours were with babbling on about this and that!
Knowing Steven won't give up a quest easily, the twenty-eight year old caves in, "it's just that this is like, the first time," he can recall one other time, "in a long time that we've been out without Lance."
Not which Ritchie feels slighted, but a comfortable wraparound of mingling arms, "you're not glad I came along?"
Logan loved the attention though. Even though his brother, a year older has been a companion, both to help through his disabilities, plus a furry chest to lay his head in times of trouble, with Ritchie there in his life, he was slowly beginning to feel detached from his sibling.
Instead of Ritchie, Logan turns to the driver, "do you think it's okay Stevie, that I feel special when I'm with Ritchie?"
Ritchie had a lot to learn about the brothers. Steven knowing the score for the past nine years, plus time before the accident which altered Logan's daily living, "of course." He never meant to bring up the topic, but makes a slipped decision, "this way, maybe Lance can get on with his love life."
"Oh, I've been holding Lance back. Is that it?"
What began as a whimsical declaration, goes sour, Steven trying to make amends, "wait. That isn't what I meant. Oh boy, am I in deep shit!"
Ritchie to the rescue, "I think what Steve is trying to say is, there's not always an explanation, that things just happen and suddenly you and I are brought together. Think of how it must feel for Lance, that all this time he's felt responsible for you, to think of anyone else of importance in his life?"
It was a lot to process for Logan. With mixed thoughts of what Steven has said, complicated by the feeling that Logan has spent roughly the past ten years of their lives nursing his condition, then to have Ritchie step in, "why does life have to be so complicated?"
He would never deem himself a philosopher, but Ritchie did have some thoughts about the matter, "I think you will find, things not really complicated."
"Oh really? How so, Ritchie?"
Nestled up in the show of affection, the melding of arms, Ritchie attached to Logan in both the physical and emotional, "I think sometimes life gets tangled up in issues. If we take one of those at a time, we can sort out the puzzle."
Finding a way to relate, Logan says, "I like puzzles. Remember that whopper of a jigsaw puzzle we put together last week, Stevie?"
Steven had raised eyebrows, having ordered one of those custom made jigsaw puzzles online, showing himself, Jae and a few friends, gathered on a naked beach, "uh yeah, how could I forget!"
Ritchie detected something in Steven's choking cough, something off subject, let it go, but not without insight, "sounds like you guys had a good time of it?"
Steven bopped himself in the head, when Logan says, "I think maybe Stevie and his friends were doing something, because they all had hard dicks and wow! You should see the size of Stevie when he's hard!"
Even with shades on, Ritchie could see Steven's brain going through flip flops, but curious, "is that so, Steve?"
Second time Steven was sorry he had the puzzle made up, as a souvenir gift for Jae and himself, "why don't we focus on the grocery list?"
Whew, was Steven happy they had entered the supermarket parking lot. He found a handicapped parking space, which he was glad for having the corresponding plates, those parking spaces wider than the regular patrons.
Getting out of a vehicle next to them, a latter-aged teen stopped momentarily, saying a mere, "hey."
With a keen sense of gaydar, Steven, even though twenty-nine years old, could find an attraction to a younger man, respectful of the underaged issue, but from an artistic point of view, "hey. How's it going?"
He could tell the young teen, looking to be about seventeen, nervous, "I'm here shopping with my mom."
Steven didn't know the point of that, other than the possibility they could not speak freely about certain things, "oh, that's nice that you're helping your mother out."
Instead of closer to the sidewalk, where it could lead into the store, the youth walks around to the back of his car.
Steven, he was keeping tabs on the elevator platform, lifting Logan from the van to pavement level, "well, it was certainly good talking with you, but I have to attend to my friend here."
Taking a deep breath, the lad does something he's never done in his life, asks assertively, "need any help?"
Having been there himself, Steven feeling reserved all of his preteen, into teen hood life, sensing the long exhale of achievement, "I might need a door held, but your mom, would't she miss your help?"
"Nah, there's not much she pays attention to these days."
The shrugging of his shoulders, the `could-care-less' attitude, Steven read it, out the fact he's lived those days too, "well, I guess you could hold the car door for us."
"Us?"
Going round the van to the other side, they both come upon Ritchie, standing outside the van door, Logan still inside.
"Well, where were you Stevie?"
To Logan's snide rendering, Steven says, "oh, I thought your new boyfriend was handling things!"
With jaw dropped, Logan realizes, "that's right! We're boyfriends! We are boyfriends, aren't we Ritchie?"
The feeling up until now had been built on hearsay, but Ritchie, with it finally out in the open, "I was hoping we were headed in that direction?"
The young dude couldn't have been more collective in what has transpired, "wow, you guys are gay?"
Steven had a hunch and banking on it, "we are. Are you?"
Logan says, with vengeance, "you're not supposed to ask a guy if he's gay, Stevie!"
"Okay," Steven says, "I admit it. Words back in my face, but regardless?"
With Steven admitting it, Logan says, "fifty lashes with a wet pool noodle, Stevie!"
He was laughing, but the others didn't get it, Ritchie summing up, "I guess that's meant to be something private.
The trio of friends are surprised, the teen saying, "have any of you been whipped, for real?"
Other than college football frat boys whipping wet towels at each others butts and backs, Steven leads, "just a little horseplay in college."
It was obvious, the young guy following Steven's aura, more than the others, "trust me. I've had it more than some horseplay, from my stepdad."
All this time Steven's neglected to ask, but Logan picks up the slack, "what's your name?"
"Oh. Right," he addresses more Steven than the others, "where's my manners," he wipes his right hand off, like it had semen on it, "I'm Finn."
Steven accepts the gesture, "Steven, and this is Logan and Ritchie."
He shakes Steven's hand, but nods to the other two.
Their nice cozy conversation is interrupted by a woman's voice, "well Finn, I don't have all fuckin'day?"
Finn yells back with sarcasm, "don't have a cow, mom. I'll be right there."
She yells back, "fine. Wait till your father hears how you talk to me," she disappears back into the store.
Finn had the urge to stay, enjoy the conversation he could rarely carry with other men, torn between what seems like a safe zone and the horrors of the daily routine of life.
"Shit, I guess that's gonna cost me."
In the dark, Steven says, "cost you what?"
"Never mind. My problem."
That didn't sit right with Steven. At times he could be a little flaky, but when faced with something which troubled him, "I'm a good listener."
Damn, was Steven glad Ritchie was along for the ride, not which Lance couldn't be sympathetic with his caretaker meeting up with a hot guy in the supermarket parking lot.
"I shouldn't be bothering you."
Though, Finn stood there, like feet molded in cement, not being able to shuffle them about. He felt a comfort in standing there, a contrast to what could await him at home later on.
Steven leans on the van, ankles crossed, as were arms across the chest, "I've got a few minutes to spare, while they shop."
So attentive to Steven, Finn hadn't noticed Ritchie bringing Logan to ground level and rolling away.
"They're okay without you?"
Straightening out his legs, Steven says, "until it's time to pay. That's where I step in. But what about you?"
Finn felt strange, but it wasn't only that he's about to lay information on a perfect stranger. Perfect, he's already fallen madly in love with Steven, tall, handsome, hair in the part of his v-neck shirt, lush enough to make a man lick his lips, "believe it or not, I'm nineteen years old and not in college."
The college part, Steven could float with, but nineteen, "you don't look it. I thought maybe seventeen, at the most?"
Second appearance of his guardian, she yells, "Finn, you better get your ass in here. I've called your father and he says there'll be hell to pay if you don't!"
Then she marches away, leaving them in the barrier of a car between.
A guy doesn't go through life experiencing things, good or bad, without having those times when he can relate. Placing a caring hand on Finn's shoulder, "what does she mean by `hell to pay'?"
He's been waiting to meet up with some guy, outside of his gloomy world for ages, "can I confide in you?"
This kid had hit pay dirt, happening upon Steven today, him thinking maybe this chance meeting was something of fate in the cosmos, "I suspect those two will be walking every aisle and if I know Logan, he'll spend half of that time explaining every flavor of ice cream to Ritchie. So, yeah. I've got time."
"Cool. Thanks. I've been wanting to share what my life has been like. In fact, I was thinking of secretly going behind my stepdad's back and trying to find a shrink to talk to."
Always available for a reach into his pocket, Steven retrieves a small case, "you're in luck," he holds a business card out, "I am one!"
"Wow. Really?" Finn takes the card and reads it, "Dr. Steven, how do you pronounce that?"
"Just call me Steven. Or Steve, or whatever seems to come natural," he girly-giggles.
"Man, I could lay a ton of stuff on you," even though Finn would settle for tearing open Steve's shirt, lying his bare chest on that cocoa-brown, hairy surface, what he presumed, being the fuzzy pecs he could view.
Wanting to keep it professional, even though he felt more than that, Steven says, "I'd like to see you in my office, if you want to give me a call?"
Finn snapped the card over and over with a finger, till he concludes with handing it back, "it's not going to work, but thanks."
"You can keep it. I have spares I hand out to people."
"No, you don't understand. If my stepdad gets wind of me doing something like that, they'll be hell to pay."
"You mentioned that before."
"What?"
"Hell to pay." Even though Steven was not immune to having heard the phrase and what it could lead to, "are you referring to your stepdad?"
Finn rubs a full hand from top of his head to chin, as if cleansing something from his face, "I can't believe I'm telling you all this."
With another suggestion, Steven says, "if you give me your cell phone, I'll put my number in and you can give me a call sometime?"
"Yeah. Right," Finn stands there, not making a move to dig in a pocket.
Steven had to say something, "you left your phone at home?"
"No, it's not that."
Being a psychiatrist, Steven could tell a man's mind even without words, "I not only am sympathetic to people's causes, but I have two warm arms, if you need a hug?"
It's something Finn had not expected when he dared to reach beyond the confines of his family car, but given the opportunity to step out from what has been his zone, "I'd like that."
He didn't wait. With tears streaming down his cheeks, Finn steps into the comfort of Steven's arms. He caresses Finn, as if enclosing a secret message in an envelope.
However, Finn pushes on Steven's shoulders, pressing on his `poundcakes', pushing away, "sorry."
"Did I do something wrong?"
"No," Finn weeps, wiping tears away with palms of both hands, "it's nothing to do with you."
"Then?" Steven leaves it open-ended.
For the third time his mother appears, a bag of groceries in hand, opening the trunk and addressing Finn point blank, "wait till I get you home. You're fucked for good! Now get in the car."
Finn was torn between what he had been coerced into doing and his true mind, to escape from the life he led.
"No mom," he takes a stand, "I'm not doing this anymore."
More a spectator to all this, Steven thought it best to stand there, rather than participate, unless it became necessary.
Pulling on his tee shirt until it tears, his mother badgers, "you get your ass in the car. Now!"
From his casual viewing, Steven comes to attention, upon seeing what the torn shirt from Finn's back reveals, "whoa, whoa, whoa," he grabs Finn's arm in a tug-o' war, "what the hell is this?"
"None of your fuckin'business," Finn's mom pulls an arm her way.
"Correction," Steven tugs Finn towards himself, "it is my business where child abused is concerned."
"He's my child and he'll do what he's told."
Her grip on Finn became less and less, as Finn felt like he should be more and more emancipated, giving into Steven's loving embrace, something he's never felt before, except when he and another high school buddy experimented with gay feelings towards each other.
Steven affirms his stand, "in this state, the legal age for a child is eighteen, but at any age a child should not be under the hand of corporal punishment."
Seeing she lost the battle, Finn's mother got in the car and drove away.
"Oh shit," Finn says, still with partial embrace.
"That's okay. You're safe now."
"No, not that. If I had thought this through more carefully I would've realized I don't have a place to go."
As with any young man he's rescued, and in his line of business, that has numbered quite a few, "the important thing is you are out of the hell hole you got used to living in."
It's then Finn gets it, having traded off room and board for his parents preying on him in exchange for literally becoming a slave, bound to doing daily household chores, plus the object of the stepdad's abuse.
"Wow, you are like so right to guess something like that."
Thoroughly detached and having a man to man conversation, Steven says, "it's not guess work. On the contrary, it comes with the territory of treating young men much like yourself. Maybe not the same circumstance, but there's been quite a few that I've rescued during my years of practice."
"So, where do I go from here?"
With all the issues a psychiatrist is faced with, Steven is no stranger to how to deal with most.
"First," he whips out his cell phone, "I'm going to put you in contact with law enforcement."
Finn says it like he's remorseful, "will it get my stepdad in trouble?"
"Um, yeah, that's kind of the point, but you need not worry. I don't know what feelings you have for your mom."
"Not much, considering she's not really my mom."
Waiting for his call to go through to the shortcut to police headquarters, Steven says, "I'm sure there's a lot you haven't told me."
He then had to cut away to his phone call, "Alton. Yeah, it's me. Listen I have a young guy here..."
Out of nowhere they hear a gunshot!
Steven, by instinct, grabs Finn by what's left of his shirt and drags him down behind the van, saying into the phone, "did you hear that, Alton?"
On the other end of the airwaves, Alton has acknowledged, saying he'll get back to Steven.
"Why'd he say?"
Right now Steven wasn't caring of anything Alton had to say.
Then, `pop!' Another shot goes off.
It dawns on Steven, he wasn't at the supermarket to run into Finn nor his affairs, "oh my God, Logan!"
He's cautious enough to stay behind the van as he stands. It's then he realizes his hand is still clutching Finn's shirt, which most is not on the lad's bod.
With another gunshot, the surety he's built up over the past twenty minutes is shattered by panic, "I gotta get in there."
Now it's Finn, grabbing Steven by the tee shirt, "I think you should wait."
Steven looks down the sleeve of his tee shirt to see what's keeping him bound to the back of the van, "please let go?"
"I think you should wait till the police get here."
Not drawn to tears, still Steven was panicky, something he loathed about his character, thinking himself impervious to such emotion, having always been there for others.
Finn stood as a reminder of keeping calm, cool, collective, which has Steven responding, "maybe you're right."
With his tee shirt in tatters, Finn says, "you wouldn't happen to have an extra tee shirt in the back of your van?"
First rag Steven puts his hands on is green and other colors, `Orlando 2022' emblazoned, with other words, which Finn reads, "Special Olympics, USA games?"
Unconcerned with those details, Steven says, "see if it fits."
While saying those words, Steven did happen to give Finn the once over, from top to bottom. If he didn't have more important matters on his mind, maybe he would have made comment of the sleek physique, auburn patch and stripe down the nineteen year old's abs.
"I feel helpless."
The sitz turned around, Finn acting confidently, taking Steven's hand, "you did alert your police friend?"
As if a deja vu moment, Steven's cell belts out a tune which could sound familiar but is really just a jumble of tones.
"It's Alton, explaining what is known thus far."
From the brief description, Steven says, "hostages? But Logan's in there!"
Asked to be calm, patient, Steven reacts, "okay Alton, but you know how hard that's going to be?"
After cutting off the call, Finn gets a little more closer than comfort, not only holding Steven's hand, but hugging an arm, "want to know what I think?"
It's the first time since hearing gunshots Steven realizes Finn standing there, melded to him like a welder fused them together arm in arm, "I know. I guess I have you to thank for holding me back and rushing in there and getting myself killed."
Little did they know, inside the store, in the cereal aisle, Ritchie and Logan were in crisis mode themselves. However, they seemed to be in sync with their thoughts and plans of action.
"We gotta do something," Logan says.
"I know," Ritchie agrees, "but what?"
While thinking another shot is fired.
Ritchie says, "I think I got an idea."
"You better make it quick. I think that last shot was nearer to our aisle."
"When I used to work in a supermarket, little kids used to do this to hide from their parents."
Hurling Cap'n Crunch boxes up on the top shelf of the fixture, it has Logan questioning, "what are you doing?"
"Ever make an igloo with your father?"
"Nope," Logan says, revealing, "he never did anything with Lance and me."
"I'm making you a cereal tunnel. All you have to do is get behind it, lay perfectly still and don't make a sound."
As Ritchie was saying this, Logan wondered what the hell he was doing, scooping him up out of his handicapped chair, placing him on the bottom shelf where cereal boxes were and rolling him to the back, with the words, "can you stay perfectly still and quiet?"
"I don't know Ritchie."
"How about if your life and mine depended on it?"
"Now that you put it that way. But what are you going to do?"
"First I'm going to make it look like a stocked shelf of cereal and then, you don't have to know the rest."
Because, Ritchie wasn't sure of it himself!
"Ritchie?"
Bending down and removing a cereal box, Ritchie peers in the dark crevice, "what?"
"I think I'm falling for you, but I won't know if you get shot, so don't?"
In the face of fear, Ritchie smiles, "I'll try my best not to."
Taking his index finger Ritchie taps it to the kiss on his lips and bestows it upon Logan, tip of the nose, "remember stay still and be quiet!"
"I will."
After which Ritchie sits in the handicapped chair and behaving much worse, making strange faces after seeing a Netflix movie of the same theme. He did get scared shit, when a tall figure with a rifle and ski mask shows up in his aisle.
Coming towards Ritchie, he backed the wheelchair up, like scoring a space in a parking lot.
"Don't be afraid."
Ritchie said point blank, slightly slurring his words, "but I don't know where my mom is and I am scared," he sniffed like he had the sniffles.
Apparently the gunman wasn't prepared for this, standing there, his rifle pointed to the floor, studying Ritchie.
Thinking he wasn't sure how long Logan could stay still and inaudible behind the tunnel of cardboard boxes, he makes up, "I've never seen such a big gun before. Is it real, like they have on Tv?"
More relaxed with the rifle, but not with looking around at surveillance, the gunman says, "of course it's real."
"Are you shooting people or objects?"
It's then that Ritchie's comment must've alerted the gunman to why he was there, taking the rifle, pointing it at Ritchie.
"Oh shit!" Ritchie yells.
Like he's seen at one time or another on Tv or in a movie, his gut reaction tells him to put a foot on the floor. Reaching for the barrel of the gun he points it to the ceiling and gets up out of the chair.
A bullet impacts the ceiling and as it does, the gunman is forced against the counter of cereal boxes, collapsing it, causing him to curse as hundreds of boxes come tumbling down on top of him. Falling backwards into the busting open boxes, Krispies, Kix and Crunchies breaking out of the cellophane, another shot is fired at random.
On the bottom shelf, Logan feels a person pressed against his chest. Thinking it's Ritchie, he grabs around the middle, holding on with a bear hug.
Through the use of security devices, law enforcement comes rushing into the aisle.
"Ritchie, you okay?"
Logan is so spooked, when the man he's holding says, "I'm not Ritchie, damn it!"
Losing his grip the perpetrator pushing his way out of the cardboard and breakfast foods, strewn all over the place.
The police surmise, the person in the wheelchair, chest covered with blood, was not the gunman.
Emerging from the bottom shelf, the gunman sees the rifle he had thrown to the side when butting up against the cereal section. He springs for it.
Alton himself is there to apprehend, keeping the masked gunman from retrieving it, "oh no you don't!"
Logan just kind of fell off the bottom shelf, onto his stomach. Being he wasn't wearing a mask, nor makes an attempt to flee, a policeman says, "are you hurt?"
It's then Logan gets the shock of his life, doing half a pushup he turns his bod to face his handicapped chair, Ritchie being attended to, a mass of blood on his chair.
Crying like mad, Logan keeps calling out, "Ritchie! Ritchie! Talk to me, Ritchie!"
Both the gunman and Logan are helped up. The gunman, minimally processed, is led out in cuffs.
Logan is helped to his feet but immediately collapses when let go.
The supermarket manager is there, "no, he can't walk."
A policewoman asks, "then who's the guy in the chair?"
No one knew who he is.
One of the hefty cops on the scene says, "leave this one to me."
As if a fireman carrying a person out of a burning building, the cop says, "you hurt?"
Logan wasn't, but plenty concerned, "I'm not, but is Ritchie going to be alright?"
"Your friend will most likely recover. It's only a shoulder wound. Had one myself. Can hurt like hell, but don't worry. The medics will patch him up and give him something to ease the pain."
First thing to come to Logan's mind after that was settled, "Ritchie's not my friend."
Temporarily setting Logan down on a checkout lane counter, "oh. Brother? Cousin?"
"I really hope Ritchie's gonna be alright because we just became boyfriends."
The big, burley cop mellows out, "oh, that's sweet. Like I said, shoulder wounds aren't that bad. They cause a lot of blood, which makes it seem that way."
"Another thing," now that Logan is confident Ritchie not being bad off, "that's not Ritchie's wheelchair. It's mine."
"Oh? How did he get in it, then?"
"He had a plan to make sure nothing happened to me, by pretending to be me. I think that's how it meant it to go."
"Well, whatever the case your friend, I mean boyfriend, I don't know if he had a plan to take the gunman out and save all the folks still inside the supermarket. That would make your boyfriend a hero!"
It made Logan smile beyond his own grief, "does that mean Ritchie is going to get a medal?"
As he said it, Steven comes running in, "Logan!"
The cop allows Steven to push him out of the way, not for the fact it's the right thing to do, "hey doc?"
Turning around, Steven addresses one of his patients, "well, hello Officer O'Shea. Long time no see, Rick."
One of the things that didn't go over Logan's head was, while riding the officer's shoulder, he innocently felt the ruggedness of the very, very handsome man who lifted him up out of the bondage of boxes, brushing off Krispies and other debris with the arm which wasn't hugging his waist.
"Can I say something?"
"Sure," Officer Shea says, "say whatever you'd like."
"In addition to saving my life, I think you're hot. You wanna come over and go swimming in our pool?"
That was one way for Logan to get the uniform peeled off!
Out of all the public service males in the town, probably county as well, maybe even the whole state, Rick O'Shea touted the title of the hottest looking male. He even was approached by Tv channels wanting him' on their single-male-islands' Tv show!
Disappointing producers, Steven said he didn't want to put the other contestants to shame. However there was one producer who was't fooled by good looks, which through intimate relations, convinced him to appear on `America's Most Eligible Muscleman'!
Persistent, Logan says over Steven's shoulder, "well, ya gonna come, Rick?"
Already they had dropped the formalities, Rick not turning down cuteness, "of course I'll come, that is if you and your boyfriend don't mind cuddling up afterwards?"
Logan had one more question before deciding, "depends."
"On?"
"How hot you look underneath that uniform?"
Rick laughs saying, "your patient seems to know exactly what he wants and what it takes to get it!"
"I'm his caretaker. Well, yes his shrink also, but my partner and I are live-in caregivers."
"Lucky to live with such a hot man."
"Dayam!" Logan is astounded, "you think I'm hot? No one has ever called me that before."
Rick knew that, having had had a paraplegic brother and how because he was disabled, disfigured, how people tended to leave him in the background. However, it just wasn't Logan's disability, he was a cute guy, according to his own particular taste.
"Personal question, Logan?"
"Sure. Anything, Rick."
"Are you a top or bottom?"
Surprised out of his gourd, Logan says, "really? We're going there?"
"My bad if I've offended you in some way?"
"Nope. Not really. Tell me something though."
"What?"
"How big does your dick get when its hard?"
"Y'know, Logue, I never really measured, but when I come for the swim party I'll be sure to bring a yardstick!"
They laughed. Even Steven got a kick out of how well they were getting along and certainly, Rick was keeping Logan's spirits high.
"Oh, by the way, Logue?"
"What?"
"I know this doesn't sound logical, you being in a wheelchair, but before you were put in the chair, did you play football by chance?"
"Nah, but I did play in the Special Olympics."
"Nice. Reason I'm asking, next time you have a chance to ride a man's shoulder, take care in how you flail your legs around. Damn near put my nuts out of commission!"
Just then Rick was summoned away.
Maybe Logan didn't make the connection, but Steven wondering about Logan's supposed kick to the balls, "Jae dropped everything and turned the gas off. Marc is driving him and your brother to the store."
"Oh darned it!"
"What? I thought you'd be happy to see Lance."
"I'm sure he'll be more happy to see me at this point."
"Oh? Then what?"
Wry smile on Logan's lips, he says, "I thought if I was quick and clever enough, I could've talked Rick into dropping his pants so I can check out his sore nuts!"
%
Marc was the kind of neighbor, always available to help out, when need arose. So be it, when Jae got wind of what happened at the supermarket, by way of text message from his partner, Steven, he was on his way to the hospital.
However, Jae was very picky about which food was to be packed away in Rubbermaid containers, the small and large sizes.
"Um," Marc plays stupid, "and if I don't get it right?"
He knew. It wouldn't be the first time Marc was called in to help Jae, Steven or Lance, being Logan could sometimes be more than a handful, especially when one or the other were reduced to a force of one.
Jae had played this hand with Marc often enough to know there were ulterior motives involved. Placing a hand on Marc's shoulder, "if you should fail me, Marc, let's just say I have some red rope with your name on it."
"Oh. I better get it right then."
No fear. Marc had been the subject of Jae's expertise, in binding arms, legs, even putting finishing touches on a bondage project, with red leather laces cinching off both nips, tethered to both ball sacs. Sometimes it was at a party whereas friends gathered round, Tom, Mat, Randy, the whole gang, to see Jae working his red rope, binding Marc up, but other times it was one to one. What are good neighbors for!
Smiling, like it was a joke between them, Jae says, "and if you don't, there'll be hell to pay!"
Marc could only hope. Yeah, by accident, on purpose, "gee, I hope I don't screw up like last time and have the hot mustard mixed in?"
Wearing pants was no imposition for Jae, pressing four fingers in the folds of Marc's sweatpants, blindly aiming for the chute, "you have yet to feel the wrath of hot mustard inserted?"
"Yikes!"
He always made Jae smile, Marc making it sound like the most horrific torture a man could endure, adding more fear, "and then slather it up and down the sides of your hard shaft?"
"Double yikes!"
Then he was on his way, Jae just knowing Marc was going to screw up.
He didn't drive, Jae taking either his townie bike or in a hurry, could spring cross town on a bike which could compete with Tour de France cyclists.
When a car tries to jump through a yellow light, legally red, he yells out, "hey, what the fuck, mister?"
Whether the driver at fault heard him or not, it gave Jae the satisfaction just knowing he wasn't getting away with it. He knew there were likewise, bad bikers, well as uncaring motorists. Sometimes it paid off to carry some `red rope' in the satchel of his townie bike. However, when zipping crosstown on his carbon cycle, Jae didn't chance the weight of cargo dragging him down.
"Hey, idiot!"
Not a red light, but a vehicle jutting out past a stop sign didn't draw enough caution to have him slow till he put his full brakes on. Low traffic, it gave Jae the opportunity to come to a full halt, right at the front bumper of the car.
Pointing to the stop sign at the side of the road, coming to about the rear passenger side of the car, Jae says, "you're supposed to stop before the stop sign?"
He was in a hurry, but after gazing in the windshield, Jae suddenly lost the urge to rush. After all, Steven was there to cover for both of them.
As the guy emerges from his car, he is lamenting, "I am so, so sorry, sir. I hope I didn't damage your bike?"
Even with the Yankees baseball cap on, Jae could pick up on some features, blond and being he had removed his shades, blue eyes, and the main thing, being it seems like the guy hadn't a care for his bike, but rather eyes darting from between his legs to face, "no damage that I can see, but stop trying to evade the subject."
This seemed to throw a wrench into the guy's train of thought, "oh. Was I? I didn't think I was, but if I did, I'm sorry."
It was apparent to Jae, the guy young enough to fit the college crowd, was nervous and felt it his job to calm the guy down, "the bike's fine."
He places a hand on the guy's shoulder, being he's walked all the way around to the front of his car, crossed the hood and now stands on the shoulder of the road, "are you sure there's something I can't do? You know, to make amends?"
The only thing Jae can gather from these open-ended questions, was to appropriately respond to how the frat boy was saying it, "matter of fact, my nerves are a little rattled. I mean, wouldn't you be if you felt like you were about to get run over?"
"Of course." He waited, bit a lip and then deciding the coast was clear to proceed, "like I say, if there's anything I can do to make up for not paying attention?"
It's then Jae recognizes the emblem on the side door of the `wagon', the kind of older model car before SUV's became big on the market, "I see you work for the Gay Pride Center?"
"Yes. Just started working there, which means I get all the shit jobs to do. I was in town picking up goods for the center camping trip."
Jae couldn't deny this guy was hot and from the tightness of his tee shirt, had a nicely built bod, perfect combo for his red rope tricks, "I see. My bike tire seems a little low, if you could give me a ride to the service center to fill up, um?"
Seeking out a name, the lad says, "my name's Daan and yeah, I'm sure there's plenty of room in the back for your bike."
Walking his bike to the back of the wagon, Jae stirred up conversation, after introducing himself, "so, you work for the pride center?"
Daan was honest, "I guess that kind of tells you something?"
Opening the tailgate, out of habit, Jae does a quick check, "hm, yeah, but something else," he spots something of interest.
Sensing more than himself of interest, Daan say, "what?"
"Do you think you have enough rope?"
Daan would admit to the director of the pride center, when buying rope, his imagination got a little out of hand, "I can get into some pretty fucked up, kinky stuff, if you know what I mean?"
"Right up my alley,"s Jae pick up the rope from inside the back, after Daan drops the tailgate.
"Let me guess, you're into," shy to name his desire, "bondage?"
Jae says, "oh, more than that. Much, much more."
Man, were Dean's balls churning, "cool!"
"Yeah, well the bike's not going to fit in, with the rope in here like this."
He could see the disappointment in Daan and the lying, "oh yeah, that's what I thought."
Definitely it was not what the guy was speaking from his heart, which had Jae clearing the air, "or, were you more thinking of how it could feel, cinched around your wrists?"
That made Daan think and when he was done wasting time, "I would love to have you tie me up sometime?"
"I might."
On the tip of Daan's tongue, it was like tasting butter and coupled with the motion in his balls, "do you tie up others? It would be my greatest fantasy played out, if I was tied naked, to another guy?"
`Now there's a thought,' Jae thinks on it, but playing hard to get along, "I think we should take it one guy at a time."
They get the bike in, then themselves, Daan driving them away.
Not far down the road, Jae says, "take the next right turn."
He wasn't from these parts, Daan just drifting into town the other day, "a shortcut I take it?"
Black top turned to a gravelly pavement, then dirt roughage.
"Not exactly. I have a few minutes to entertain you, if you're up for it?"
"You don't know how excited I am to finally do some of this!"
Jae knew and to solidify his thinking, reaches across front seat, placing a hand right over Dean's crotch, "nice," he says of the bulge.
"So, as far as tying ropes around a cock and balls, is it better to be hard or soft?"
"Are you kidding? I've never tied up a guy who wasn't hard in anticipation!"
Jae laughed, so Daan followed, adding, "I guess it works the other way around then."
"How so?"
"You tie me up when I'm hard, so when I soften up, the rope just falls away?"
"You would need to come for that to happen."
"Sure. That's what I'm talking about."
"Well," Jae with craftiness throws Daan a curve, "you know there's ways to stop a man from coming, no matter how much his desires it?"
Daan didn't follow, "oh? Like how does that go?"
"Think about it," as Jae has done many a time, "the ropes don't come loose unless you've secreted your load. Impossible for that to happen if I plug your cum hole?"
That made Daan jamb the brake pedal, "you mean?" He's thought about the possibility, "like, what do you plug a dick with?"
"A number of things. Small birthday candle, or a sound, or I could even use a leather lace to put a chokehold around the flange of your cock. Sometimes a sound works nice."
"What kind of a sound?" Daan didn't get the proper implication.
It made Jae smile, giggle. He was used to a guy knowing all about this stuff. Matter of fact, the way he works his bondage and other exotica, was to have a chat with a guy to make sure they were on the same page. A `client', he usually got paid for the bondage. A total stranger, like Daan here, might need more of an explanation.
"Forget about that for right now. If you don't get this car in gear we won't have time for the bondage."
Daan shifts, "where to?"
"There's an old camp ground up ahead. They don't use it for pitching tents anymore since the last flood washed much of the facilities away. Perfect though for what we need it for."
Once again, Dean's eagerness has returned, "you got it."
About five minutes later they came to a log crossing the crude roadway. It resembled a gate of sorts.
"You can stop now."
Daan stops the car, putting it in park.
"Get out and open the gate."
About to question why Jae didn't do it, to make it easy for him to drive right through, Daan just goes with it, jerking the door handle.
"Uh, hold it one second."
Looking back into the car, Daan asks, "why?"
"Before you open the gate I want you to strip your clothes off."
Daan's head pops up, looking over the roof of the car and everywhere else, "what if someone sees?"
"Guaranteed, there's not a sole around, but if you're chickening out, you can turn the car right around and we can head to the service center."
Processing it rather quickly, Daan comes back with, "no, not chickening out. If that's what you want, you got it."
He was wearing a khaki-colored, button down shirt, same style all Gay Pride Center employees wore.
As he unbuttons the top button, Jae says, "no, not here. Over there by the gate."
It did not sit well with Daan, his `can't-get-his-way' attitude surfacing, "why can't I strip right here?"
Looking at his watch, Jae says, "you've already wasted ten minutes of our time. That equates to ten lashes with whatever switch I find in the woods to whip you with. Any other questions?"
He was thinking `what the fuck?', but at the same time Daan's balls were driving his excitement onward, "okay. If you say so."
"Sir," Jae says.
No hearing it, but hearing something, Daan makes an about face and sticking his head in the open window, "what was that?"
The first of many items in Jae's toolbox, "if we're to get along, you will address me with the proper respect. From here on in, whenever we get together for these little rendezvous', you will need to learn the proper respect."
Daan loathed the word, `sir', a term his stepfather instilled upon him. Failure to do so, "I suppose if I don't you're going to find a switch in the woods to use on me?"
A confident smile, Jae says, "I like a boy who catches on quick."
Another thing to irk him the wrong way and even though twenty years old, as he walked away to the log gate, "`boy'?"
Jae tooted the horn.
Turning around, he could read Daan's lips, `what?'
Waving his hand for Daan to return, he turns, but instead of the driver window, returns to Jae's side of the car.
"What is it now?"
One of the reasons Jae was glad he married a psychiatrist, was to have the knowledge of what made a guy tick, or what it took to tick a guy off, "first of all," Jae corrects, "your attitude sucks, but we'll take that up later."
"And?" Daan says with attitude.
"That's it."
Daan looks at Jae as if he had two heads, but instead of trying to figure the man out, just leaves a vague answer, "okay. I'll get to it."
A second blow of the horn has Daan doing an immediate about face, "what is it this time?"
"Respect?"
Rolling his eyes, unbelieving that he was summoned back to the car for this' or that', "okay, Sir, I'll get right to it."
Detecting a small change in Daan's voice, "that's better."
Sticking his head out the window, Jae says, "and one other thing," his hand motions Daan to come back. Not which he was a sadist, Jae like any other guy, playing the game, gets kind of excited, knows without being told he's again pissing Daan off.
"What?"
"Keys. After you strip and open the gate, I'll drive the car through."
"I'm not allowed to have anyone else drive the car, except me."
Jae gives the twenty year old an ultimatum, "well then, I suppose that ends the session for today."
Daan's balls were too wound up to have that happen, which has him digging in his pants pocket, "you got it."
Out of the car, rounding the hood to change seats, Jae shouts, "next time work on the respect."
"Okay, Sir. Sorry Sir. Yes Sir," Daan rattles off every which way possible to use the calling. Much of it he's already used with his stepfather, after defiance brought punishment to him.
There wasn't anywhere, like a bench or something for Daan lay his shirt, so lay it on tall stalks of grass, out of the path the wagon would take.
Jae drove up to about three feet from where Daan was stripping down.
"Nice," Jae comments to himself, of Dean's almost totally smooth bod and pure white skin.
He gets down to his briefs, stops and walks over to the driver's side of the car, "now what?"
Purposely Jae looks down, "well, after you remove your briefs, you can open the gate."
"But what if someone is looking?"
Jae jokes, "well then they are going to get an eyeful when you peel those briefs off and your humongous erection falls out!"
Even though in a sarcastic tone, Daan was learning, "yes, Sir. Whatever you say, Sir," he says, walking, stepping each leg from his briefs, then placing them neatly on the place where his other clothes are laid.
`Perfect!' Jae says to himself as he watches Daan figure out how to unlatch the gate, lifting a rope from the end. He actually laughs, seeing Daan curse when the log springs up, narrowly missing his chin!
He audibly hears a, "fuck," Daan rubbing his chin.
Jae was wondering just how far to take this, but being he already has this evil thought implanted in his brain, swerves the car to the right, running over clothes Daan has neatly place in the high grass.
"No, no, no, what the fuck're you doing?"
Raising both arms, Daan places them both on top of his head, flashing his blond pits.
With a smile, Jae leans out the window, "I didn't want to hit the pothole in the road. But you should be thanking me."
"How so?"
"Well, you're the one responsible for the car and I wouldn't want to get you in any kind of trouble, if you should happen to show up at the pride center with a dent, or worse yet, flat tire?"
The logic was right, but Daan had a problem with Jae, being there was no visible evidence of a ditch in the road.
Before he could curse Jae out, he's saying, "so, respectfully you should be thanking me."
"Okay," Daan plays the game, "I thank you sir for not wrecking the car. But what about my clothes?"
"What about them?" Jae smugly smiles.
Daan goes for the door handle to get in.
"Uh, you can walk," he immediately steps on the gas pedal.
The handle snaps out of Daan's hand, "fuck!"
Not only the audacity, but the idea his clothes are molded into the ground, he should be steaming mad, but when thinking about it, this wasn't any different than when his stepfather got together with his buddies, Daan being the center of attraction for a night of play. From that he learned that in order to get through an ordeal it was better to play along, which made a bad situation from getting worse.
There were differences between then and now. With his stepfather, he was forced into a situation where there was no escape, except what he finally had enough balls to do, run away. Then, over a period of four years of wandering, he learned a new way of life. Other than mowing lawns, his job at the Gay Pride Center was the real job Daan has ever held. These things filtered through his head, the idea that even though Jae was being rough on him, his hand held his stiff shaft, as he chased after the car.
He had to break out in a light jog, which trying to keep his shaft and balls from bobbing around became impossible. It was strange, yet drew a little humor, the idea Daan was outdoors, naked and putting his full anatomy on display, hoping there wasn't another human to take in the view.
Finally he caught up to Jae, who had parked the car. He couldn't have been more than three minutes behind, when he found Jae standing near a wooden picnic table, the rope he had in the rear of the car, out, tied to all four corners of it.
"About time you caught up."
"They got a shower around here? Your dust kind of got me dirty."
"There'll be plenty of time for that later."
Daan thought on that, showering, but also of his clothes, twisted in the reeds, beat down by the tires Jae drove over them with, "so, how does this go?"
As Jae looked upon the `boy', he lusted to do more than bondage.
"Hmm," he says, assessing the situation, "let me think on it."
Really what Jae was thinking, was the beautiful physique Daan had. Tall, he had to be a couple of inches over six feet.
"You go to a gym?"
"Somewhat. I played football and we had gym equipment in the locker room."
Thinking on it Jae found the answer to why Daan had such bulbous pecs, what they term `poundcakes' by the name given to a worked up condition of the chest.
Taking the liberty to approach Daan, swipe a hand over his abs, "looks like at one time or another you had much more definition here?"
"I was on the road for four years. I didn't exactly have the kind of food to build a sixpack."
At the base of Daan's pecs were perky nips, which when Jae goes to tweak them, he jumps back, "what the fuck?"
Smiling Jae says, "respect?"
A sarcastic pucker on his lips, Daan rattles off, "what the fuck, sir. There. Happy?"
Having done this oodles of times before, Jae says, "I'd be much happier if you stripped me out of these clothes?"
Daan bit a lip, wondering if this guy was for real. Yet, it was one directive he really didn't mind passing up on, "okay."
"Respect?"
"Okay Sir. You got it, Sir."
They both stood still, studying the situation. Daan goes to lift Jae's sweatshirt, "well, you're going to have to lift your arms to get this off?"
Daan was learning the meaning of his actions with just one word, `respect', which has him saying, "want to lift your arms, sir?"
That was good, for now, Jae lifting both arms straight up.
After his sweatshirt was lifted off, Daan just stood there, admiring, "wow, you're like, ripped, sir!"
Not touching would come later, Jae rather enjoying feeling Daan's hand pan over his hairy pecs, knuckles sliding down his thick abs trail.
Daan looks up into Jae's eyes and like he's joking, "I guess I probably should be asking before touching?"
"See, you're learning already."
"Okay if I take your sweatpants off, sir?"
"Might be helpful to take my sneakers off first, `boy'?"
All the time he got to one knee, Daan never broke his gaze with Jae, except when he felt the earth on the tip of his shaft!
"Want to lift your foot, sir?"
From then on, that's how it went, Daan learning a new way to get his own way,
Then, standing there, naked bod to nakedness, Daan asks, "what's next sir?"
Right now Jae could care less about bondage or protocol, "now we take a dip in the lake."
Turing and running Jae didn't look back. Diving into the lake, he heard a second splash.
"You didn't ask permission to jump in," Jae says, surfacing.
Smart-alecky, Daan says, "you can hear underwater, sir?"
Near shore, when Jae stands the watermark levels out between dick and navel, "stand up, boy."
Daan stands and so taken by Jae's beautiful bod, doesn't acknowledge respect, but does render, "you're really beautiful."
Suddenly, Jae's mentality shifts and instead of all things bondage, steps towards Daan, "and you're not?"
From experience, both on the road and at home, Daan says, "what do I have to do to taste your cock?"
He's surprised out of his gourd when Jae says, "tie me down to the picnic table and then have your way with me?"
"What? No. I mean, that's what you're supposed to be doing to me."
"I don't always play by the rule book. Besides, the way you have been checking me out for the past hour, I think there's been a lot of dreaming going on inside your head, of what you could do with me, if given a choice?"
"But you're a top?"
"And you're not?"
Reflections of being on the road, there were many things Daan had to go to earn a meal or bed to sleep in, "I can be both."
"Then why can't I?"
"You are," Daan questions, "versatile? But I thought."
"Things aren't always what they seem, huh?"
"No, obviously."
Having Daan right where he wanted him, Jae says, "so, all the while you had ideas of what I was about to do to you?"
"Yeah. Kinda?" Daan swings fingertips through the water as if it were oil, a nervous reaction to where all this was headed.
"I can deal with that."
Still not sure where Jae was headed with all this, "how so?"
Moving closer, traveling the pebbles on the lake bed, Jae connects hands with Dean's arms, "whatever it is you thought I was going to do to you, I want you to do to me."
Of all the things, one thing stuck out in Daan's mind, "I can fuck you?"
Of Dean's erection, Jae says, "that might hurt. Besides, I don't fuck on the first date."
"This is a date?"
"Play date."
They were close enough to each other, whereas poundcakes were in touching distance and without further ado, Jae takes the initiative to weave his arms in, under Daan's pits.
When Daan just stands there, allowing the sweet affection, Jae clues him in, "I order you to reciprocate, boy!"
"Oh, are we still playing that game?"
Sweetly, softly, tenderly, Jae takes Daan in his arms, a hand to the back of the head, forcing their lips together.
Braking apart, Daan says, "wow, that was nice."
There were a lot of unknowns here, between both, Jae saying, "don't tell me you've never been kissed?"
"Uh yeah, but this is the first time I felt it was real."
"How so?"
"Only one other time I wasn't forced to kiss a guy and that was with one of the football players on my high school team."
"Aha, so you did have a relationship?"
"Uh. No. Shortly after he moved and I left town. All the other times, it wasn't my choice to kiss. It wasn't my choice to do a lot of things."
This close to each other, Jae feels he can do something he sensed as tabu, "how does this feel?"
Daan moans, feeling a hand move underwater, "I thought maybe it was a fish."
"My hand is the only fish in these waters."
"Okay if I," Daan has discovered, "reciprocate?"
"By all means."
After they touch simultaneously, jerking each others shaft, Jae grabs Daan by the hand, "c'mon, let's dry off."
Used to it, having been in this lake before, Jae leads the way.
Unfamiliar, Daan stumbles and gets submerged, popping right up in the water.
"I was about to suggest that, washing off, but it looks like you took it upon yourself?"
Always looking for an angle to a story, Daan says, "does that mean I'm in trouble?"
Staring each other down, as if a duel, they meditate, each thinking of the path they want to chose.
Taking Daan's hand and leading him back to the picnic table, Jae says, "there's always a consequence to an action, whether intentions are premeditated or accidental."
Coming upon the wooden table in a picnic grove, one is singled out by red rope at each corner. Right off, Daan faces it, about even with his hard shaft barely touching the surface, "I don't think it's accidental that we have met."
"Friendship is the essence of love."
Recognizing it, Daan says, "you're a Buddhist?"
Being they've made a connection, Jae says, "I've dabbled. What about yourself?"
Having his back to Jae, Daan turns around to face Jae, propping his ass up on the woody table.
As if orchestrated, Jae leans his butt against the opposite facing. He wasn't immune to the almost smooth twenty year old.
"Do you have a lot of time?"
With a muscled specimen facing him, Jae made time, "all the time in the world," something he's learned from his psychiatrist-husband, Steven often coming up with some words of wisdom to explain away `why the universe revolves'.
"Everything was going good for me as a young child. My biological dad was great. We used to do stuff together, like fishing or he'd take me to the golf club on Saturday. Even though he was a conscientious provider, he always found time to do things with me."
Thinking this indeed was going to be a long historical account, Jae hops up on the ledge of the table.
Daan did feel something a lot more than conversation, watching as Jae's knees spread.
Jae clears his throat, not which he was the one telling the story, but obvious that this could, in an instant, turn into a good storyline for a porn novel, "go on."
It was some story, but it was all too obvious, Daan taking him through a happy life, only to have the fairy tale come apart, his loving dad passing away, mother remarrying, a terrible stepfather who would often drink, then proceed to beat him, then the parties with his stepdad's buddies, exploring their gay sides, Daan the focus of their basement play.
He figured Daan was leaving a lot of the fine details out.
"Wow, that's some story, Daan. I think it would be better if you talked it out with my husband."
With sudden movement, Daan hops off the table, "ouch!"
He feels his ass with a hand. Then looks over his shoulder, like he can see that far behind him.
The picnic grove has been there as long as the campground, about twenty-five years at the least, "got a splinter?"
Turning back to Jae, but still feeling his ass, Daan says, "yeah, maybe," smiling, "wanna check?"
Jae was careful to lift his ass up, before liftoff, "I better, or it'll be my own fault if I get my dick splintered from your ass!"
Doing the hand gesture, to have Daan spin around, the would be frat boy leans elbows on the table.
Jae notices more than what he is searching for, more of a gaping hole than he's accustomed to, "I take it you're not a virgin, being what you told me about your stepfather and his friends?"
Revealing another fact about himself, from his past, Daan says, "I never let on to my stepfather that I was enjoying what he and his buddies did to me. I think I would have liked to have my first sexual experience with a guy to be my choice and not a consequence."
Thinking Daan started to sound more like Steven, when he spoke with clinical flair, "that's deep."
"Really?" Daan looks back over his shoulder, Jae is making comment about his chute.
"Yeah. I go through it all the time with my husband, talking up stuff like that."
"Oh," Daan gets it, "I thought you were talking about..."
It's then Jae gets what Daan refers to, "no, I didn't mean..."
It began to get complicated, conversation gravitating towards the same subject of not where each other intended.
Being man to man, two gay men, things began to seep away from reality, Jae's exploring hand going deeper.
"I guess you didn't find any splinters?"
From the way Daan moaned, Jae's hand exploring `deep', "not yet."
The end of the table came to about where Dean's tiger trail began, right below his navel. Good thing too, since the rough wood might be too scratchy for his growing erection.
Speaking about consequences vs. choice flashed by Jae and as much as he wanted to replace an exploring hand with his hard shaft, he stands from bending over, "like I said, I think you should take up some counseling with Steven."
From bent over, to bearing the weight of his bod with his feet, Daan turns back around and pertaining to why they originally wound up at the old campground, "maybe someday I'll get the chance to see how you rope a guy up?"
Jae looks at his cell phone, expressing how time flies.
"It's called bondage, and if we had more time," suddenly things progress to a state of emergency, "I would do you now."
Smiling and meaning it as something else, Daan glances down and then up, "I'd like that sometime, feeling you `do' me!"
"There's a distinct difference between finding a splinter and finding a place to insert my dick!"
"But you were conflicted about fucking me, right?"
Daan was sounding more and more like his husband, "there you go again, sounding more and more like Steven."
Not only the tone of his comment, but Daan's actions speaking for him, he gives Jae a peck on the lips, then darts past him, "I'll go find our clothes."
While Daan dashes past him, Jae begins to untie the rope from the four corners of the picnic table.
"Hey, I know this sounds kind of kinky, Jae, but would it be okay if we traded underwear?"
In his line of `play', nothing much sounded too obscure, Jae saying, "sure. I like an adventure as much as the next guy."
Not all of his stepfather's buddies were as mean and cruel. One in particular, a single guy, who made out he was into girls, guy-curious, made Daan keep secrets, which one was that he really was gay. More than a basement get together, he and `Jay' would meet a couple of blocks from his high school and Jay would drive them to the next town over and secure a room at a seedy motel.
As they gathered themselves, Jae had the inclination Daan had more on his mind than making their way back to the pride center vehicle, "if it's okay with you, I'll have Steven give you a call?"
Sitting there in the station wagon, Daan at the wheel, thinks on it, "I don't think that's going to work for me. I've just started this job at the pride center and my insurance plan doesn't kick in till I'm there for thirty days."
Something Steven would say, "a problem is not the problem. The problem is your attitude about the problem."
"Wow, you're husband sounds like some smart guy!"
"Not his quote. He stole is from Jack Sparrow."
Daan was thinking too long on it.
"Jack Sparrow, from `Pirates of the Caribbean'?"
"Don't know of it."
Jae makes out like `everyone' should know it and it became their topic of conversation, highlighting the flick, all the way to the hospital.
%
% Copyright 2023 T. Chase McPhee
Developing segments of 'YoGA MaT' may not be amended, distributed, sold, used, abused, quoted, paraphrased, chopped, sliced, diced, regurgitated, nor made part of any collection, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the author. To do so will result in 50 lashes with a wet swimming pool noodle!
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