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Give till it hurts...and if that's not enough, get with some s&m!
'YoGA MaT' 17
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
In general, when Lance finally shows up at the hospital, seeing a bloody wheelchair, he was certain his brother was the one shot. Steven was on hand to set the story straight.
"No, not Logan. It was Ritchie, who by the way, turns out to be quite the hero in all of this."
However, Lance's mind was only one person, "oh. But how is Logan taking all this?"
True to the police officer's opinion, Ritchie suffered a deep grazing of the bullet, which made it look like a dire situation, with blood gushing from the wound.
Thus, it was possible for visitors, one of them becoming almost a particular fixture, "Logan is with Ritchie. I'll take you to him."
Logan's personal handicapped chair was replaced by a standard hospital version. It is notable to Steven, Lance rushing to his brother and bending to hug, something which comes by doing often enough, "oh, I'm so glad you're fine, Logan."
It was strange to Steven, Lance making a fuss over his brother, but keeping Ritchie at bay. Maybe after it wore off, upon seeing Logan was never in any danger.
However, he didn't need to fuss about that, Logan saying, "if it wasn't for Ritchie it might've been me who got shot!"
Lance does turn to the bedded patient, "thanks, Ritchie," but then turns back to Logan, "but we better get you home."
Adamantly, something out of character for Logan, since he's followed every word of advice his brother has dished out, refutes, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying here with Ritchie!"
If he was standing, Logan would have had more of impact that he was bound to stay put.
"You're coming home. Now."
Steven was a little shocked, being his brother's life was spared due to Ritchie's heroics, that spending time there at the hospital, "I can stay with Logan, if you need to go, Lance."
Lance turns to Steven and as if he's defending being attacked, "and where were you when all of this was happening?"
Steven then realizes where his place should have been, but realizes the trust he's had in Ritchie has shown through, given the incident at hand, "I was in the parked van."
He didn't think mentioning the incident of meeting with Finn was important just yet.
"You were in the van, eh?" Lance confronts Steven.
"I didn't think it a problem, being we both know Ritchie and find him responsible enough to hang solo with Logan?"
Steven was puzzled, Lance giving him flack over not being in the supermarket with Logan, even though Ritchie was not only there, but came out of all this a hero and protector.
"I don't give a fuck what you think. Your job is to be with Logan at all times!"
Logan dares say, "it's okay Lance, I like being with Ritchie and..."
"You," Logan points a finger at his brother, "stay out of this."
Rolling over to where Lance is in confrontation with Steven, "now, what the fuck has come over you all of a sudden, Lance?"
Lance was kind of shocked his brother interfering, "you go over there and wait until I'm finished here and then we'll go."
He assumed Logan would comply, move himself and the chair, and back away.
"No. I'm not going anywhere."
He almost rolled over Lance's foot, not by being adamant, but accidentally, but it served the purpose to show he wasn't leaving.
It's something that's been on Steven's mind and as psychiatrist to both brothers, has brought up the topic of Lance, too much in control of his bothers' life and affairs, "Logan's been of legal age, to make his decisions for himself, beyond at least five years now?"
"Fuck off, Steven and while at it, you and your partner can pack up your stuff and get out of my house!"
Logan could feel his jaw drop, at the audacity of his brother's words, "you don't mean that, Lance?"
"He was supposed to be there for you and wasn't. I'm terminating his contract!"
"Oh really, Lance? You talk about Steven, but where were you while all this was happening?"
Oh man, was Lance in a quandary, knowing he was at home, flat on his stomach, naked, on the masseuse table, Jae's fingertips running up and down his back, cock lodged in the crevice of his ass.
"That's entirely beside the point. The thing is, whoever of responsibility is with you, is the person designated to be in your company at all times."
If Ritchie hadn't been sedated, he could speak for himself, but on his behalf, Logan steps up, "you know Ritchie. I know Ritchie, and if Steven thinks Ritchie is responsible enough to be with me in the store without him, it's good enough for me," Logan's voice kicks up a couple of decibels, "and if you at all value Steven's expertise, you would accept his and my opinion, besides the fact Ritchie did everything he could to keep me safe!"
As could happen in cases like this, when Logan got so worked up, his anxiety levels could soar, causing eyes to tear up.
Steven says, "you think you have all the answers, Lance, or is it you're afraid that Logan has found someone who actually cares about him and that you're about to be replaced?"
Since this has been a topic of discussion at one of Lance's therapy sessions, it had paved the way, but when brought out in public and with his frame of mind as it is, Lance acts out abruptly, punching Steven in the stomach, "how dare you!"
"Oh shit!" Logan cries out and as gut reaction, tries doing to Steven's aid.
He was on his feet for all of ten seconds, before falling forward, Logan trying to show his caring nature, "oh fuck!"
Lance, shocked by the fact he himself had gut punched his friend, plus the fact that his brother actually stood on his own, freezes in place.
It's Steven, who had fell to his kneels, after Lance's fist made him double in half, was there to react, "I gotcha, Logan!"
On his knees, reaching out with both hands, it was almost as if it was an orchestrated maneuver, arms diving between Logan's and lifting him, pulling him over on top of him, as Steven lay with his back on the floor.
Over Logan's shoulder, Steven sarcastically says, "thanks for all your help, Lance!"
Rolling Logan over on his side, Steven following the motion, he scoops him up, uprights him to where it seems like he's standing on his feet and places him in the wheelchair.
Having backed away to allow Steven to fill the chair with his brother's bod, Lance has a clear picture of what has transpired.
Steven, kneeling at the chair, says, "you all right, buddy?"
"I'm okay," Logan sits there, arms folded across his middle, looking like he's pissed.
"I think you owe your brother an apology," Steven directs at Lance, while still on one knee.
To prove a point, Logan says, "yeah and where were you when I was falling flat on my face, bro?"
Whatever psychological grief Lance was feeling, he suddenly realizes the implications of feeling Logan able to run his own affairs. A reminder, Ritchie lying there in the bed, sedated, his brother relying on someone else other than him for his welfare, "I'm sorry, guys."
Walking forward, Lance falls to one knee, "I'm really sorry I hit you, Steven."
Under some circumstances, for Steven, it could feel good, but at the mercy of an irate friend, "no real harm done."
As things turn out, Logan stays at the hospital to be with Ritchie, Steven accompanying Lance home.
%
After dropping Jae off at the service center for the bike tire repair, Daan headed back to the Gay Pride Center.
Off work from his landscaping business, Duncan Balderston agreed to meet at the center to help unload and organize equipment for the upcoming camping trip. Since he was off work, Office O'shea was coerced into helping out.
Earlier, after leaving the incident at the supermarket, he had spotted Duncan's landscaping truck and with an evil grin, decided pull him over for no reason at all. Well, there was a reason, but none which would stand up in court!
Rick had made sure no one was watching, grabbing Duncan by the shirt and bringing his kisser to his lips.
Duncan had said Rick had a hell of a nerve.
Rick, a toothy smile on his drop-dead gorgeous face, said `I know!'
His churning balls wanted to get with Rick in the back of his truck, but it's time like these that thwart such made up plans, something being on his calendar for a week, the Gay Pride Center camping trip and how he could help in readying for the event, especially since it was his idea and he shared responsibility in gearing up for it.
He roped Rick into it, saying they could get together afterwards.
Meeting Duncan at the pride center, he was on his motorcycle, which not only Rick got stares from how hot he looked, but also for the wheels!
"Nice wheels," Randy says.
Smiling and meaning something different, as one handsome man to another, Rick says, "anytime you want a ride?"
Going on the defensive, Nick steps in, "yeah, about that, copper, him and me, we've got something going."
Rick jokes, covering for himself, "oh, I didn't mean that you wouldn't be invited?"
Randy answer for his boyfriend, "yeah, I think we'd be up for a threesome, if you are, Rick?"
Overhearing, Duncan says, "or foursome?"
Daan hints for an invite, "I'd be up for some of that?"
Having never met Daan, Rick's eyes are all over him, from head to crotch, "and who might you be, boy scout?"
Even before the thirty-five year old off duty policeman learned of Daan's name, his eyes were all over him. Of course, unless a guy knew Rick, no one could guess he was an officer of the law, dressed in plainclothes!
Duncan, being a landscaper would often use this tactic to get his own men to strip shirts, "whew, I'm really starting to work up a sweat."
After wiping the sweat from his brow with a hairy arm, Duncan reaches both hands to the front collar of his tee shirt. With a hefty pull and working hands around the back as the shirt gives, riding up his bod. Soon he pulls the sticky fabric fully off and as he goes on the job, uses it to swab each pit.
Randy condemns, "I hope you're not going to put that back on afterwards, Dunc?"
Randy's boyfriend, Nick, has the solution, "no problem there, Dunc," he follows, "mine is nearly clean, as I put a clean one on before leaving the house?"
Liking Nick's idea, Duncan motions Nick, "off, then!"
Stripping his shirt, Nick tosses it to Duncan, Duncan doing the same.
Randy rolls his eyes, just knowing why his kinky boyfriend catches the sweaty shirt, and holds it to his nostrils for a couple of whiffs.
While those three carried on their own little shirtless conversation, there's Rick, being Daan's shadow, as they are hauling camping equipment from the pride center vehicle, into the center auditorium.
While Duncan keeps Nick in conversation about how he gave up on the expense of buying deodorant, when it doesn't keep him sweet-smelling during the course of a day out in the hot sun, keeping his chainsaw busy, or directing his helpers in the fine art of turning logs into firewood, Randy loses interest in the scents of a man, watching Rick and Daan.
Rick, who seems to have taken on the job of foreman, is directing Daan on how to pick up a heavy load, without throwing his back out. Then, Rick stands there, watching Daan bend into a squat to pick up a heavy tent.
"Nice job," Rick says when Daan, hugging the canvas parcel, uprights himself.
Of course, his balls were doing flip-flops, after having seen Daan's shorts stretching over his ass during the down movement of the squat!
"Oh, did I do it to your expectations."
Rick just knew he wasn't putting anything over on Daan, "wiseass!"
Then Randy felt lost, turning back to Nick and Duncan, those two orchestrating their own lifting procedures.
Suddenly, from behind he hears, "you look lost!"
Swiping past him, already with a stripped shirt, it hanging over the shoulder, Bill steps in with Nick and Duncan to haul food off the truck.
Having met the pride center director numerous times, Randy says, "oh, hi there, Bill."
Standing about 5'11, a hairy beast of a man, paunchy stomach, still he was physically fit enough to haul ass, yet given the opportunity, "wanna give hands with this sack of sand?"
Helping out with one end of the bag, Randy asks, "what's the sand for?"
Slipping it off the tailgate of the pride center wagon, Bill had his end, but Randy has to squat to catch his end, unprepared for the weight displacement, "oh shit!"
Two reasons for the cursive response, the inability to hold the weight up and a reason for Randy to jump up, leaving Bill to carry the whole sack, "damn it!"
All attention was on Randy, not for the fact he lost control of his half of the load, but in squatting down, the seams of his shorts gave way!
Nick jokes, "I hope you decided to wear briefs this morning, boyfriend," knowing Randy never does!
Still holding the bag of sand, like he's holding his boyfriend to his chest, Bill says, "turn around. I'll check!"
"Fuck you, Bill," Randy says, knowing the thirty-four year old is not type, will never have the opportunity.
Bill says, "mm, now there's a thought!"
Nick says, "no offense Bill, but Randy only does young guys like us!"
"Back!"
With one of the other workers entering the scene, all eyes shift to Ashton.
Rick says, "I know you from someplace."
"You gotta find yourself some new pickup lines, Rick. That one is so overused," Duncan laughs it off.
Snarling up a nostril, Rick brushes it off, "mind your own business Dunc, like I know this kid."
Those who work at the center have gotten the heads up on Ashton, his former employment on the shady side, working for a guy who hired him to find young men and enslave them in the porn industry for cheap labor. Bill knew of this from Ashton's legal representation. The others cheap gossip.
Daan, new to the whole scene, Mat getting him his job, "hi, I'm Daan, that's with two a's."
"Ashton. That's with one t."
As one blond to another, Ashton says, "great to meet you. You work for the center?"
"Yeah," Daan replies.
The others return to work, Rick standing there and slowly moving an item, his mind on how this is going to pan out. After all, he was just getting to know Daan. Last time he saw Ashton was in court, in a suit, white shirt, necktie, but to see his shirt coming off, all Rick had on his mind was two blond hotties! :)
"You look like you know how to keep yourself fit," Ashton says to Daan.
"I used to be more so, before I hit the road."
Rick was handed a box of tents poles, so used it prop his chin up on while following the conversation, and comparing the blond physiques! :)
"Oh, are you one of Tom's finds?"
Both Tom and Mat have gained reputations as finding the most amount of young men who had hit the road, running from a life which did not cater to them being gay.
"I guess you might call it that, but really it was Randy over there who found me trying to find some food in the dumpster out back of the yoga studio."
"Someone mention my name?" Randy was on it, proving his ears were attuned to their conversation.
Truthfully, Randy's attention was focused on not the two blonds, but Officer O'Shea. :)
Ashton tells, "Daan was saying stuff about how you found him shuffling through a dumpster for food."
Even though Randy flashes his eyes to Rick, "yeah, that's right."
Instead of a heated conversation, Bill says, "uh, nightfall is almost upon us, boys. Can we hustle it up?"
Rick, who has picker up on Randy's stalking him, "guess we better pick up on the pace."
Since he was there, much rather wanting to work with a hot, muscled man like Rick O'Shea and not `bear-man' Bill Le Jeune, Randy says, "need a hand?"
Having already exchanged flirtatious glances, Rick says, "could use more than that, actually!" :)
Rick never said how he and Ashton met. Since Daan had captured the twenty-six year old's attention, and after telling a brief account of why he left home and hiked cross country, "so, what's your story, Ash? It's okay if I call you that?"
Smiling, Ashton says, "I haven't been called that since high school. But sure, it's fine."
A week ago, after his release from what could have meant jail time, in exchange for ratting out the whole underground business his boss had set up, Ashton had rehearsed over and over the way in which he could draw up a synopsis and not have himself come out the bad guy. However, that all went out the window, with a strong urge to tell it like it was.
And after telling of how he was a `talent scout' for an off the wall business of hiring young men as actors when they would double up on free time being hired out as prostitutes, it was Daan's turn to react, "so what do you think? Am I a bad guy or what?"
The reason he had rehearsed a different story, was not to be judged before outweighing how he himself had been duped into going along with a scheme.
"Who am I to judge? Like, who hasn't done something they thought was right, only to find out they've been used?"
"Really?" Ash questioned him.
"Tell you what happened to me, if you want to know?"
Ash wasn't sure if he and Daan were the same age, but had a feeling he might be a couple of years younger, regardless, loved the physical aspects of Daan, standing there before him shirtless, but maybe they had something in common which could help them get to know each other.
"Sure. Say anything you like. There's not much more a guy can do wrong that I've already done."
"I'm not so sure about that," Daan says, taking a seat on a nearby bench, which formed a setting for a place where employees could sit outdoors and eat their lunch.
"Try me."
Daan was sure if Ash's meaning, but for the life of him, he had the strangest urge to reach out and kiss him! :)
"I had breezed into Chicago and like always, no place to sleep for the night and happened upon a group of guys, in their teens and twenties, a few over thirty. They offered me a hot supper and a place to sleep."
"Not without consequences, I bet!"
"Yeah, you got that right. I had my hot supper, but of the sleeping arrangements, I wasn't so sure I wanted to climb into a bed with two other naked men, in a room where cameras were stationed to capture our every moves."
Ash says, "I know the feeling."
"Oh, I thought you were only responsible for guys?"
"Yeah, that was my job, but one I got suckered into working for my employer, if I didn't find my quota of guys, it would be me acting in the movies they made. I know it was mean and selfish, but I couldn't picture myself in a porn movie, with the possibility someone might walk up to me in public and recognize me. I didn't think of it then, but now I feel so bad for those guys and wonder how they deal with the humiliation."
Ash slumped forward on the same bench Daan sat.
"What I think is, fear is a terrible thing and when we're faced with it and have to draw an instantaneous, we don't always think of the outcome, how it will affect our live later on."
"Wow, that's deep. You have a degree in psychology or something?"
"I saw a counselor in high school once a week, when I reported some boys were bullying me. That really didn't stop them from picking on me, but it helped me to deal."
Daan didn't harp on his stepfather and how he was not only bullied, but beaten by the older man.
"So, did you ever go to college?"
"Nah. Dreamed of it, but because of circumstances in my life, never got there."
It made Ash feel like a sap, being from a rich family, the opportunity to work towards a profession in sports science, only to throw it all away, sights set on making money the easy way, "well, for sure, I really botched things up."
Placing a hand on Ash's hand, Daan says, "the guidance counselor always said, if you want to change your life, you have to change the way you do things. Right now, with this job, it's not the best on in the world, but if I can save up enough money, I'm going to find a college and maybe work towards a dream I've had since I was a kid."
"What's that?"
"Same as you."
Ash had to think back on what he said, pinpointing, "sports science?"
"I was always a chubby kid, but wanted to learn how to lose weight. My guidance counselor mentioned how those bullies went to a gym to achieve weight loss, muscle gain and to maintain. I can see you're no stranger to that?"
Not which he didn't feel it, but Daan's hand on his thigh, Ash takes it, and like he's being reassured, "you're so smart. I was such rich-kid idiot to give up what I had to turn to a life of crime."
In their conversation, Daan thought Ash had mentioned, "but you were depressed, bored with life. I know sometimes we have excuses for not doing things, but there's no reason why, when we wake up to facts, we can't turn our lives around?"
"Wow, Daan, are you sure you haven't missed your calling?"
"Huh? How so?"
"Instead of sports science, you should become a shrink!"
"Yeah, right," Daan smiles, "and with all that money I pocket, I can hire you as my personal trainer!"
Affectionately, Daan leans his bod towards Ash, which puts them into a position of shoulder to shoulder.
"Heck, you don't have to pay me. I can train you for nothing!"
Their kiss drew the wrath of Bill, "hey, you guys wanna get a room?"
Daan didn't let Bill have the last word, "you know, Bill, that Ash and I need to have our own private tent?" :)
Bill throws his hands up in the air, condemning himself, "when will I learn to keep my big mouth shut!"
Duncan says, "when you've got two dicks inside?"
%
Back at the hospital, Ritchie was just settling in for a nice slumber, Logan in the wheelchair next to him, yet he had convincing one of the nurses to help prop both feet up on the bed, so he could relax.
"Are you sure my feet aren't in the way?" Logan says.
Soon as those feet went up on the bed, Ritchie had taken both shoes and socks off, mentioning, "what? These cute little piggies," he pinches Logan's toes.
"Don't waste your time. I can't feel anything anyway."
Ritchie reveals, "y'know, one time, I sucked on a guy's toes?"
"Did you like the taste of them?"
First thing to come to Ritchie's mind, "you aren't appalled, thinking about it?"
Logan says, "um, no, but I'd probably be more the one having my toes sucked, then sucking them."
"Let's move on," Ritchie laughs.
"That's okay," Logan says, "I don't mind talking about kinky stuff."
Neither had any experience with stuff outside the box, but had great conversation talking about mixing sex with handcuffs, edging, etc.
Not until Ritchie mentions, "what about bondage?"
His mind went right to red ropes, "Yeah, I know of it, one of my companions knowing all about it."
Ritchie guesses, "Steve?"
"No. Jae. He knows everything there is to know about bondage."
"Really? Like what?"
"He's got this red rope, says he only uses it for shi-sh-barry, I forget how he says it, but anyhow, it's from Japan. His father used to do it and taught him how. It's cool, the feeling of this silly soft red rope tied around a guy's bod, laced under his pecs, behind the back and then brought back front, between the legs, laced around the balls, maybe the cock, I forget, then tied off."
"Wow, that's some description," Ritchie is amazed. "So, you've had him do it to you?"
"No, but, and I think this is pretty erotic, one time he had Steve and Lance get naked and tied them together on the bed, facing each other!"
Taking about this, soon Ritchie was tenting the hospital bed sheet! :)
"Oh no," Logan says, "look what we did!"
They laugh, Ritchie saying, "you wanna take care of it?"
"If I had it in my power, I would," Logan says.
Ritchie snaps his finger, "I've got an idea."
"What?"
"I got some nice vibes when that nurse was talking with you?" :)
Unsaid before, but sharing now, Logan says, "you got the same vibes I got?"
"Gaydar again!"
They both laugh.
Ritchie rings a buzzer above his head. In no time a male voice comes on the intercom, "is there something I can help you with?"
Logan can't help but burst out laughing, Ritchie shushing him.
"If you could come to this room, but no rush."
"No rush? Really Ritchie? If I could have an erection, it would be happening now?"
Ritchie's shaft looking like it's ready to poke a hole in the sheet, "hey, you're not the one in dire need of release!"
Entering, the pair look upon a tall, dark, Latino, Logan saying, "hey, you're not our nurse!?"
"He's off duty. I'm on. Now, what's your urgent need?"
Did they have to clue him, the nurse's attention already focused on the bed sheet?
Understanding the situation, without words, the nurse turn back to the door, locks it and returns, "so are we ready for the unveiling?"
"Oh shit!" Logan proclaims.
Walking over to Logan's side, ass parked in the wheelchair, the nurse casts a sly eye, "or am I talking to the wrong person?"
Even though past endeavors at hand-working himself to get hard proved unsuccessful, right now Logan was having no problem tenting his pants, "oh wow!" "
"What?" Ritchie says.
"Hee-hee," Logan giggles as if embarrassed, "I've like, popped a boner?"
The Latino walks towards the bed, arms folded across the middle in an alpha pose, "you don't remember me, do you?"
Ritchie says, "who, me?"
"No. Him," the nurse nods his head.
"Um, no," Logan says.
Refreshing Logan memory, "about five years ago. The EMT's brought in a college boy who was in an accident with his parents."
At the time of the accident, which left his bod half-working, Logan recalls, "was that me?"
"Yep."
"I seem to remember someone, like maybe an angel hovering over me, when I woke up?"
While they chatted, Ritchie studied the nurse's features, at least what a guy can `read' from a clothed bod, mainly facial recognition, the hot beard, state, very short, cropped hair on the top. But then, he discovers more, when the nurse rolls up his sleeves, dark, fuzzy forearms. Even though the blue shirt was baggy, every once in a while, when there was an offset of weight, Ritchie could view a pull on the pectoral region, perky nips silhouetting the gown.
"Well," the nurse wears a cocky smile, "I don't proclaim to be any kind of an angel, but that was me!"
Ritchie was getting bored, with Logan getting all the attention, "remember me, being the one who summoned you, Donato?"
He could only guess, Ritchie ripping his name off his tin badge, "Donato's my official name. Friends call me, Don," and as he turns his attention to the sick boy in the bed, "and you've got quite a hard on there, Ritchie?"
"Hey," Logan pulls on Don's shirt tail, "I've got one too, remember?"
Standing back, Don's eyes dart between the two, "yeah and that's the dilemma, which one to take care of first?"
Then a lover's battle ensues, Ritchie saying, "take care of Logan first."
"No, Ritchie, you're the big hero. You should go first."
The war on words batted back and forth, till the forty-one year old nurse halts the discrepancy, "okay, hold that thought."
"Huh?" Ritchie and Logan both question.
"Actually, I might come off as a slut, but I'd like to take care of you both."
Again, the contest of each egging the other on starts up again.
Putting a hand up in opposition, Don says, "okay, hold it guys."
They stop their bickering, once again giving Don their attention.
"It's not like this hasn't happened before, so what I would suggest is waiting to Ritchie is ready to go home and when I elect myself as the followup home care nurse, I'll pay you two a visit and do `home care'?"
Just then, Don's beeper goes off, which he reports, "I've got to take this."
He leaves abruptly. Behind closed doors the two discuss what has just happened.
"How is he going to do both of us at once?"
Ritchie says, "I don't know. Guess we'll have to wait and see."
"Why us?" Logan asks.
"Well, apparently when you came in to the ER five or so years ago, you made the kind of impression on Don, which is tough to forget."
"Why did he wait so long?"
Ritchie shrugs both shoulders, "maybe he isn't allowed to date patients."
"I guess that could be true." Then with a giggle, "now he has to wait until you're discharged. Then, what do we do?"
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe we should get his phone number?"
It's then Ritchie notices something more, "hey wait," he places a hand on Logan's shoulder, a hint to move aside, "where did all the flowers come from?"
Logan rolls over to the table, set up more like a shrine, with flowers, stuffed teddies, balloons, "oh these, you mean? Came while you were sleeping."
With a smile Ritchie says, "any of `em from you?"
"Nah," Logan smiles back, "you've just me, here in the flesh."
At the thought of the word, `flesh', Ritchie makes a connection, "of which I could see more of, flesh, you know?"
With a little difficulty Logan could peel his shirt off, starting at the waist, "you asked for it. What do you think?"
Ritchie has a blue hospital gown on, but like he was shirtless, looks down, then at Logan, "what I think is we're not much different!"
This puzzled Logan, "in what way?"
Signaling for Logan to lean in, Ritchie's fingertips touch the midcoast area, "all this."
Logan wasn't getting it, even though fingers touching his fuzzy middle chest tickled, "so?"
"Like, me too, I've got the same patch of hair, there? And," he continues to skate two fingers down Logan's abs, "the stripe."
"I gotta see this," Logan acts so cute, leans in to grab hold of the light blue fabric at Ritchie's waist.
He could only hike it up to Ritchie's pecs, but reveals the similarity, "oh yeah. I can see what you mean."
Then, lost for words and the inability to pursue unveiling each others bod, "so, who are the flowers from?"
"Ok," Logan gets down to business, rolling over to the table, "the poinsettia is from Lisa and she writes," Logan flips the gift tag over, "she is so thankful for your actions, which saved her and her son, Timmy."
All Ritchie could do is smile.
Logan was full of accolades, "like I been telling you Ritchie, you're a hero!"
"Yeah, yeah," Ritchie brushes it off like nothing, "what about the big Teddie bear?"
Logan didn't see a tag, so pulls on Teddie's sleeve, "maybe it's around the wrist."
He tries to back away as the bear tumbles forward, right on top of him, "oh no!"
The chest of the bear fell over the top of Logan's head, which brought `the crotch' about even with his face!
Laughing, Ritchie says, "his dick taste any good?"
Pushing it right off of him onto the floor, Logan says, "he doesn't have a dick, wiseass!"
Just then the door pops open, Donato entering, "more flowers!"
"Where from?" Ritchie and Logan say simultaneously.
They look at each other as if they've had a previous mental connection, then laugh.
Donato waits patiently for the two to connect with their special moment.
Ritchie says, "we're running out of room, Donny."
Logan asks, "got any more tables?"
"I suppose I can rustle up some."
With that, Donato sets the flowers down on the floor and leaves.
"Did you see that, Ritchie?"
"See what?"
"Donato, he didn't like it that you called him Donny."
"You can tell something like that? How?"
"With not much to do sometimes, other than being a people watcher, I kind of pick up on vibes like that."
"I think that's a gift," Ritchie says.
"I dunno, but you better call him Don, or, I like Donato. It's unusual and kind of a cool name."
Ritchie smiles, "I think Donato is kind of cool!"
More intuition, Logan says, "I think he thinks we're cool too."
"Okay, I've got this one table and one in tow," Donato wheels in one bedside table, the other right behind, with one plant atop.
"Not another poinsettia," Logan says.
Donato says, "well, it is a few weeks before Christmas. What are you guys doing for the holiday?"
"Ritchie and me haven't talked about it, but I hope we're spending it together."
All along, the two have been immortalizing Donato, Ritchie saying, "maybe the three of us could spend it together?"
"Um," Donato stutters at just not knowing, this suddenly sprung upon him.
"You have family?" Ritchie asks.
"None around here. Fact is, since leaving home a few years ago, I haven't seen any of them. Not by my choice, though," Donato begins to unravel his past life.
"Hey, I got an idea," Logan brightens up the room with a smiley flair!
The other two wait, until Ritchie says, "well, what's your brilliant idea?"
It was brilliant indeed, Logan going beyond the Christmas season, "if you want, Donato, we can be your family?"
Ritchie wasn't opposed to the idea, being since Donato walked through that door the first time, he's been madly in love with that bearded face, "I'm all for it, if you are!"
He just stood there, smiling, but it's not like he hasn't gotten that offer before, "I will definitely think about it, thank you."
Perhaps Ritchie had a little more insight, Logan having family, a gay brother, who could relate to himself being gay. Cast off from a family who could not stand their son being gay, Ritchie took to escaping, taking to the road, "I could feel the same."
He hoped he would not bungle this up, Ritchie thinking how not so keen on words he could be, but waited to see if Donato's reaction, which seemed to pour on the pressure.
"Not sure about that," Donato says. "I went through some harrowing experiences between life, the way it was and life, the way it is. .ou catch my drift?"
Logan knew the score, growing up on easy street, with an understanding brother, so left the issue up to Ritchie, which in his eyes gave him more of a vision to why he loved the first man ever in his life, but did try to persuade, "listen to Ritchie. He knows what he's talking about."
His mind divided between the two, that's something Donato has been trying to figure out, whether Ritchie and Logan were lovers or just friends, which at this moment he wasn't sure, but felt a warmness about the two, "okay," he moves arms to a folded position, as he has dozens of times in response to a hospital admin, laying down an idea on the staff, "you've got my ear."
Logan jokes, "only one?"
He laughs out loud, but gets in return a scornful look from Ritchie, "hey, lame-brain, can you get serious for once in your life?"
"I am serious," Logan differs, having dropped the humorous side and taken on a more serious demeanor.
All Donato can think of is how well the two go together, like the last two pieces of a puzzle with a beautiful scene unfolding.
He chances telling his true feeling, "listen, I like you two, but."
That was great news for both of the thirty year olds, Logan not allowing Donato to waste anymore breath, "cool then, he's going to spend Christmas with us!"
Donate wanted to allude to that, but being his mind was slower than his intentions, kept quiet.
"Cool," Ritchie agrees, "all we have to figure out is what to get you for Christmas!"
Logan jumps in, "hey, we've got to get your outta that bed Ritchie, so we can go shopping!"
Those two, Donato was feeling a hype he hasn't felt in a long, long time, so allowed his emotions to ride along on top of the high, but cautions, "I don't think Ritchie will be able to leave his bed until at least the end of the week."
He was standing close enough to lay a hand on Ritchie's forearm.
Seeing the tenderness, Logan extends his own hand, daring to latch onto Donato's hand, "I got an idea?"
"Not another one?" Ritchie says.
Donato says, "I hope this is a good one?"
Ritchie had followed Logan's lead, not wanting to allow Donato to turn and leave, weaving his fingers in among the forty-one year old's digits.
"I think so," Logan says, "I've got Steven for my companion. Maybe you can be Ritchie's full time nurse?"
Perhaps his head was swimming in a dream world, Donato wanting to be around these guys more. He's already thought about when Ritchie is discharged, he'd probably never see the two again. Life can be so complex, complicated, "but I work at the hospital."
Ritchie comes up with the idea, "can't you be one of them visiting nurses?"
Logan picks up on it, "and you can visit us every day!"
"Better yet," Ritchie builds on Logan's rendering, "you could be a sleep in aid, there for whenever we need you."
Donato liked the idea, no matter how far-fetched it seems, "are we talking about health care or sleeping together?"
He was laughing, which causes Ritchie and Logan to crack a smile, but they soon loose the humor.
Thinking he's stepped over the line, Donato says, "sorry guys. I probably shouldn't have said that. Really, I apologize."
Pursing lips together, Ritchie morphs from a near frown to something a little more cheerful, "not sure what Logan's feeling, I can't speak for him, but I think it would be cool to have you naked, between us in bed."
Logan comes back with, "you can speak for me, Ritchie." Then to Donato, on a humorous note, "like, how big do you get, because Ritchie and me, we'd probably be fighting over your dick!"
Well, he's never been that before, "an object of you two fighting? Hm, does sound kind of erotic."
Ritchie wasn't always a scholar at arranging words, but could drive a point home, "uh, speak for yourself, Logue. I'd be more the guy on top and not sucking up."
"Oh," Logan realizes just much of Ritchie he doesn't know.
"Yeah," Donato sides with Ritchie, "that would kind of be the way I lean too."
"Oh, then I guess I will have to be the one in the middle," Logan is stone-faced in his thinking, all the humor gone.
Having been with other men, something Ritchie didn't expect when he took to running away from home, it's given him a broad sense of how warming up to sex could be, "for one thing, I don't think we will know how being in bed with Donato will be until all three of us are naked."
Donato gets a little frisky and after looking behind him at the door, attaches both hands to the bottom of his blue hospital shirt, lifts it up, "if you don't mind, how about giving us a sample of how you perform, Logan?"
"Oh damn," Logan reacts, "are those real ripples?"
Ritchie giggles, "they're called a six-packs, bird-brain!"
When they hear the door being tried with failure, Ritchie says, "you locked the door, Donato?"
Like he's embarrassed, Donato says, "yeah, my bad," he cracks half a smile.
"Logan," they hear through the facade of the door, "you okay in there?"
It was Lance's voice.
Logan, answering, not his brother, but Donato's apology, "I'm really glad we got to see your six-pack, Donny."
"Donato, birdbrain," Ritchie corrects.
"Oh. Right. That's what I meant. Donato?"
Before Donato could reply, Ritchie's on it, a little more adventurous, "I hope we get to see more!"
"Logan, why is this door locked?" Lance pounds a fist.
Logan and Ritchie exchange surprise looks.
Blushing, Donato was a darker red, being he had that Italian pale to olive' complexion, mostly due to his mother being of New Guinea origin. To either of the two, this didn't matter, except for it only served to enhance Donato's handsome face. That dark beard against his skin made those lips wanting to be kissed. The stripe coming down from Donato's mid-pecs made both boys salivate. Though, Ritchie did wonder if Donato's lips could be put to other' use than just kissing.
"Yes. Sorry I have deceived you both, but..."
Donato wasn't allowed to give a full interpretation of why he sequestered them all away in the hospital room, Lance not giving them the opportunity, another rap of the knuckles.
"I better get that."
As he backed away from Ritchie and Logan, Donato's back was not towards them for a moment. Perhaps he wanted to savor every bit of sight available before the brother came barging in?
"Well, it's about time," Lance started digging in on the gatekeeper, till he had fractions of a minute to analyze the man standing before him.
Regardless, in another split second, Lance remembers why he was hammering away on wood.
However, Donato on the offensive, "hold it there. We have rules at the hospital, like have you checked in at the front desk?"
Certainly, Donato's hand on his chest did make Lance lose temporary focus, "uh, yes, matter of factly."
Man, was Lance sorry when Donato dropped his hand!
"Okay, then you're allowed to visit."
Knowing Donato from a different perspective, Ritchie and Logan were ready to laugh out loud.
Logan, the joker, laughs, says of his brother, "show him your six-pack, Donato. That'll sweeten up Lance's attitude!"
Ritchie, impressed with Logan's line, adds, "yeah, maybe you'll get further than we did!"
It was like their laughter was a concerted effort.
Donato turns around, dropping his hand from the impression on Lance's chest to address, "really, Ritchie?"
Not which Donato didn't have some kind of designs on the two, regarding the cheerfulness, ability to make him laugh, not to mention their impressions of his six-pack. He knew that stripe down, dividing the rippled muscle often got to most men, issuing a sense of direction.
Lance didn't wish to be a sourpuss, so instead of what he had on his mind, to reprimand, he lightens up, "well, when do I get to see this six-pack my brother has boasted about?"
In private Logan and Ritchie had spoken jovially about Lance, of how he's devoted his life to becoming a ward to his brother and not enjoying life.
About other things, Logan slips, telling something of Lance, "hey, you wouldn't happen to be into kinky stuff. Lance, he's into that s&m stuff, you know?"
Lance's jaw drops, "really, you're going there bro?"
There had been the occasional get togethers, whereas Steven would take care of Logan, while Jae was available to Lance, weaving his red rope skills around nooks and crannies of Lance's bod. Rope accentuated the brother's nips, bellyhole, was wrapped around each nut sack, ran through ass crack with a rope-burning effect and doubling back around the front, secured around the base of a hard shaft.
"Show him your six-pack, Donato."
Donato heard Logan, but plays hard to get along with, "you first, Lance."
Even with a warm glow about Donato, Lance was on his guard, being he was adamant about Logan meeting anyone new, which how Ritchie slipped through the grid, he doesn't know, "but I don't really know you."
Logan to Donato's rescue, "but we do and trust us," he takes Ritchie's hand, "Donato is an okay guy."
Ritchie says, "go for it Lance!"
Lance was torn between what he intended on saying to Ritchie, things about Ritchie and Logan becoming boyfriends, dissuading how Logan could be more than a handful in regards to daily care and now, looking upon a hot guy like, "I don't even know your name?"
Again, in one of his cocky moods, Logan says, "oh my God, bro, he's okay. Just grab him, squeeze him in your arms and slap your lips against his!"
Donato shrugs a shoulder, "he's got a point there."
Logan and Ritchie exchange glances.
Ritchie says, "that was quick."
"Yeah," Logan was on the same wavelength, thinking how quickly Donato came went in their lives.
Meanwhile, Logan consults Ritchie, "I hope I didn't pour it on a little too strong?"
Ritchie smiles, "are you talking about them or us, because," another smug smile, "for being boyfriends, you're acting a little cool?"
"Oh yeah," Logan's face brightens up, "I forgot we're supposed to be boyfriends!"
It was a little awkward, Ritchie laid out on the hospital bed, arm in a sling, tender to the touch, Logan in his wheelchair, with limited mobility.
"Fear not," Logan gets a burst of energy and with all his might uses the arms of the wheelchair as the catalyst for projection his ass out.
"Oh shit!"
He stood for all of two seconds before the wheelchair, which he forgot to apply the brake, sweeps out from underneath him.
"Logan, oh my God!"
Lance was fast, but Donato was faster. Though the sweep was quick, which had Donato literally catching Logan, one arm under the chest, the other under his stomach, much like he was offering Logan up for a worshippers sacrifice.
Arriving two seconds off, Lance's left hand coddles under Donato's right hand. Lance's right hand felt something squishy between the Donato's legs.
Even in the face of calamity, Logan could extend his instant humor, "hey, who's playing with my nuts?"
The Dr. Jekyll - Mr. Hyde syndrome started to creep in, as could happen with Lance, whenever his brother was thought to be in danger, "when are you going to learn to put the brakes on, Logan?"
Donato says, slowly relinquishing control over to Lance's arms, "are you serious, man?"
Like someone had given Lance the authority to expel every thought bottled up inside him since the accident, he spews forth, "how would you know anything? It's me who has bathed, clothed, fed, taken care of my brother's every need for the past ten years. I don't need someone coming along and tell me how to run our lives."
Being a healthcare provider, in the nursing sense, Donato has seen this scene played over and over. On a couple of occasions he's viewed the hospital psychiatrist deal with it, going head on with the adamant caretaker.
"You did it because you have a deep love for your brother. That's understandable."
Lance says, "I'm glad someone understands."
Here's the clincher, Donato saying, "so, how long are you going to hold that over everyone's head?"
After setting Logan upright in his chair, Lance turns to the attending nurse, "I beg your pardon?"
Right up in Donato's face, he says to Lance, "what do you want, a medal?"
Lance neither liked the comment, nor thought it appropriate, pushing Donato away, "fuck you. I don't need your help."
In Donato's thinking, he needed someone's and since Lance has already stirred up his loins once, "I disagree," he comes charging at Lance.
"What the fuck?"
"I'll say," Ritchie views Donato, charging at Lance like a bull, taking him clear through the white curtain which separates them and the empty bed next to them.
Male hormones, they can sure make a man do stuff he would never do if given the time to think things through!
It's heard, metal bed pans hitting the hard floor, some kind of doctor implements chiming, as they are propelled from tabletop, down. When the wrestling bods turn to stillness, the white curtain camouflages how Donato and Lance come to rest.
Now the concerned one, Logan says, "Lance? Donato? You guys all right?"
Ritchie is on top of it, "of course they're all right!"
Logan's mouth pops open, upon hearing what Ritchie has detected, smooching!
Logan says, "who do you think is kissing who?"
"Does it matter?"
A bit of hinting on his own, Ritchie intertwines fingers with Logan.
So cutely, Logan responds, "hey, maybe we should get with some kissing of our own?"
"About time you came around, Loge!"
They didn't get around to it, the presiding doctor coming in.
"What the hell has happened here?"
Wrapped up in white fabric, Donato whispers a quick word of advice to Lance, "he's not too gay-friendly and he's gunning for me, if you know what I mean?"
When it was revealed who it was wound up in a mass of the curtain, hospital equipment littering the floor, the doctor blames, "is this your doing, nurse?"
Lance could go either way. Sure, he was ticked off that all these years he's taken care of his brother's every need. He didn't need some stranger coming along and telling him how to run him and his brothers lives. Then, to analyze why he was getting so upset over it? In another split second he had to react, but basing it more on what was right or wrong.
"Actually," Lance steps forward, wiping the back of his hand over the lips, "your nurse here saved me from taking a nasty fall. If anything, I might think of filing a lawsuit against the hospital for leaving equipment behind a curtain, whereas anyone stepping back against that curtain can cause a person to trip and fall. If it wasn't for your nurse, I'd be in a `much' worse state than... oh, I think my back feels a little out of whack."
Taking the upper hand, Donato seeing the care Lance has taken to cover why they were laying, raveled up in a curtain, lying side by side on the floor, plus the real coverup, "maybe you should go fetch an accident report, doctor?"
The doctor didn't like the idea of a nurse telling him what to do, but looking up not only two, but the four of them acting as in solidarity, mutters after closing the door behind him, `those damn gays!'
Even though the prejudice attitude, the doc was only a year from retirement and didn't want to jeopardize that, so kept under the radar.
"It certainly looked like he was gunning for you, Donato."
Donato was thinking of another aspect, "so, you're not mad at me anymore, Lance?"
Ritchie and Logan sat there, witness to what seems like a love scene warming up, Lance approaching Donato.
"What do I have to be mad about, being you just saved my life?"
"Oh?" Donato couples his fingers with Lance's, "I thought we were wrestling to see who the victor is?"
"How could I possibly win against a guy with a supposedly chiseled six-pack?"
Donato smiles, allowing Lance to lift his shirt, "you can touch, you know?"
Smiling back, Lance says, "are you sure I won't break anything?"
Logan laughs, "are they punch proof, Donato?"
Pulling his shirt down over his striped abs, Donato says, "I wouldn't go that far."
Ritchie, throwing off Logan's attention, "I might have punch proof abs?"
Looking upon Ritchie's paunchy tummy, Logan says, "looks more like a hairy pillow!"
Of Logan's hand feeling the fuzz, Ritchie says, "be careful, you're venturing a little too far south!"
"How do know I'm not doing it on purpose?"
"I'd believe it," Ritchie smiles at Logan.
After a short kiss, Donato realizing the spectators, "by the way, did you notice, right before the wheelchair kicked out on Logan?"
Lance questions, "what about it?"
He told it straight, "in your delirium about how much you've taken such good care of Logan all these years, which I'm not saying you haven't done a great job of it," he rubs Lance's shoulders with both hands in a warm pattern, "but he did exhibit being able to prop himself up on both legs?"
"I must have missed it."
Realizing Donato the reason for missing it again, being under the power of a testosterone moment, Lance `wakes up', "wait, did you say that Logan can walk?"
"Stand. Walking would be a whole different aspect. This might result in another wrestling match, but I think you missed it because you don't want to face the truth. You've taken a lot of pride in caring for your brother. I can see the love there, if you know what I mean?"
Lance was warming up to the idea.
His dare might earn him a slug in the gut, but not only could Donato's abs take it, but after the rumble on the floor and taste of Lance's lips, the thirst to repeat became greater than he could bear. Yet, Donato summons all his reserves to hold back on getting with some sweet affection.
"Yeah, that's what I'm saying."
Lance got the chills!
There he was, torn between past feelings and now, what he's tasted and felt as a result of a man who he was finding as friend and not foe, who truly cared. It's not that Steven had explained the same thing, but coming from another man, expressed in such warm terms, coupled hands in hands, "maybe I've been evading it, a little?"
Another bright idea from Logan, "with Donato up your ass, maybe he can show you the way, bro?"
Ritchie condemns, "Logan!"
All innocent-like, Logan mumbles, "what, Ritchie?"
However, Donato has thoughts of his own, "might not be such a bad idea?"
"Serious?" Lance says, their hands bound to each other.
Logan left out the middle of an idea, saying, "uh, one thing about Lance you should know, Donato?"
"What's that?"
Gazing at the four feet planted on the floor in a squared off position, Logan says, "like, Lance is so scared of the sight of blood."
Ritchie tries sitting up to look, but falls prey to the pain in his shoulder, immediately collapsing his back to the bed.
First Donato looks down the chasm of their bods, in explanation, but calm, "oh wow, will you look at that."
"What?" Lance's eyesight follows, only to visualize the same, "oh no. Oh no, no, no."
Logan gives another tidbit of info, "Lance is so scared shit of blood, it will make him faint."
"Information, Logan?" Ritchie says. "Like, do you have to be so suggestive?"
Looking for redemption, with those puppy dog eyes staring Ritchie to the core, Logan says, "my bad."
However, with the two others facing each other, Donato's nursing instincts come into focus and prepared, springing into action, he's there with a arm slipping in between Lance's left arm and the flank of his bod, around the back to catch, if he should fall.
"C'mon now," he steers Lance over to a chair, "no need to get upset. I've got your back."
Meantime, Logan is filling in Ritchie, "this like happens, even if I cut a finger. Lance is such a baby at the sight of blood."
Ritchie can see, even though Logan has come to terms with it, there's a jittery repose to him, "I'm sure it's nothing, or else Donato would have rushed him to the emergency room, instead of sitting him down and removing a sneaker?"
His sock was slightly moistened with blood, which then had Logan caving in, "I hope he's gonna be alright, Ritchie?"
Playing on Ritchie's affections, whether heartfelt or trying to garner some sympathy, Logan leans half on the bed.
Donato did had a grip on the situation, grabbing a pair of gloves and after expertly fitting both to his hands, carefully removes Lance's sneaker, "oh yes, you've got quite a scrape there, Lance."
Leaning back in the chair to achieve the height of lifting a leg off the floor, Lance looks down his own bod, thus discovering, even in the face of seeing blood, his crotch has a slight bulge!
Down on one knee to inspect Lance's foot, once he's removed the red-spattered sock, Donato is all smiley inside, now that he's done a quick inspection, seeing it's only a deep scratch, "well, upon first inspection, this is quite a deep wound."
"You think I might need stitches? Cause if I do, you're going to have to put me under, doc."
Donato smiles. It wouldn't be the first someone mistook his professional bedside manner as a doctor and not that of a nurse. Of putting Lance `under', "I don't think we will need to go to that extreme of sedating you, but we might want to go with a local anesthesia." And driving a point home, "but that would require the advice of a doctor."
He was really thinking of the calming effect of his hand wrapped around Lance's tool!
"Okay, if you say so," Lance reads the brass badge pinned on, "Donato."
Doctors had a more elite engraving on their tin badge, Donato flashing his medal at Lance, "nope. Not quite. We nurses don't rate brass. In fact," he tests the integrity of the name badge, trying to bend it, "I think it's made of aluminum."
In no time Donato had some gooey medicine applied to Lance's wound and an oversized bandaid, with the diagnosis, "the good news, I think you're going to live!"
"Wow," Logan's whit kicks in, "unbelievable, Lance didn't faint!"
Standing up for himself, or maybe wanting to impress, to dispel the fact of being a woos around the sight of blood, "for the record, I've never fainted."
"Of course," Donato helps in the coverup, "it's only natural to be lightheaded at the loss of blood."
"Really? You think that's been my problem."
Smiling, Donato says, "I'd bet my reputation as a doctor on it!"
All smug in smiling at each other, which seemed to relight the candle, extinguished by Lance's bloody foot, the mood changes when visitors enter the room.
"Steven, what're you doing here?"
Answering Logan, Steven advances to the wheelchair and rustles Logan's head of hair with a hand, "just making sure you're friend here is still in the land of the living."
Not only for himself, but Logan liked the idea Steven was accepting of Ritchie, placing a hand on his forearm and saying, "how you doing, Ritchie?"
"Great."
Right behind Steven was another familiar face, but other than the police uniform, a means of identification of his profession, the badge he wears states, "you remember the off duty policeman who helped you get around, Logan?"
Not only Logan, but Ritchie was all eyes, studying not only the badge on the officer's chest, "you holding out on me, Logan?"
As Steven makes small talk, welcoming the cop, so does the young couple, "me? Holding out on you Ritchie? Nah, but even if I was, I'd be willing to share."
After Steven welcomes his buddy and patient, often meeting with police officers who have psychological baggage to get off their chest, he turns to the bedridden lad.
However, Logan, in his own quirky sense of saying so, "hey, Officer O'Shea, back to get more of your hands on me?"
Joking, the handsome cop retorts, "yeah, just couldn't get enough of that muscled bod!"
Hardly, Logan not being able to workout like a regular guy, but his physical therapist managing to keep his muscles in working order, "I could only wish being as hot as you, Ricky."
Right before he approaches the bed to give Ritchie the potted plant in his hand, he turns to the nurse down on his knees, "hey, Donato, how's it going?"
Reading right through the greeting, Donato looks up, says, "in your dreams, Rick."
People would never realize, unless stalking the pair, how they would strip down at a secluded location, seedy motel in another town, Rick's patrol car parked at the wooded picnic spot, or even a quick trip to either of their living spaces, to closely explore their feelings for each other, quite contrary to what they exchange now. As it goes, they go with whatever the moment dictates. At times it's Rick leading the way, but winding up on his knees with Donato's shaft on his tongue, or vice versa. On a whim, Donato might have the urge to be handcuffed to the top of the bed, or it could be Rick, stripped naked, and sitting in a chair, wrists cuffed behind the back. Either way, one or the other man was a prisoner to the others sweet ministrations, before they erupted with sweet slime oozing out in streams of pleasure.
But not at the moment, Rick there to bestow upon the man of the hour, "I'm here to enforce this order from the mayor, Ritchie," he hands the patient an envelope.
"What's this?"
Logan quips, "ya gotta open it, dah?"
Taking it from the officer, Ritchie tears into it, "oh my god!"
"What? What? What?" Logan steals the letter away. "Oh cool," he announces to the room, "they want Ritchie to throw the switch at the downtown lighting ceremony. Cool, I told you you were going to be important, Ritchie!"
Of this, no one could be more touched than Lance, seeing his brother not only loving man, but it returned, nothing short of the real thing.
Ritchie says, "but am I going to be able to do it, that's the question?"
"Heard the doc say," Donato approaches, "you'll be up on your feet in no time, but there's no reason why you can't be there in a chair."
For a jailor, the chair' might mean the end of life, but to a nurse, they left off the mobile part and just called it the chair', a vision of hope, that a patient was graduated from a bed to a chair.
"Cool, Ritchie," Logan exclaims, "we'll be like a real couple, as equals!"
As he is gloating, the florist delivery guy walks in, "uh, where should I put these?"
In both arms the bouquet and plant only serve to add more to his busty uniform, Logan saying, "how about right over here by us?"
A man in his late forties, he comes close to Logan and Ritchie. Even though his eyes were checking out the two, his composure dictates a more professional manner, "uh, where would you like to have these put?"
Ritchie loved the chub look, eyes feasting on the v-neck of the florist delivery man's fuzzy chest, from what he could view, "the closer the better!"
Maybe he should not have been so direct, but it was not like the cute cub was a stranger to such comments, "the closer the better, right?"
Logan suddenly got fake-serious, "hey, what about me?"
The name tag read, `Jose', Jose saying, "hey, don't worry boys, there's plenty of me to share!"
Logan was surprised of his guess, "you're gay?"
Setting the flowers on the bed, Jose places them right in the alleyway of Ritchie's crotch, the plant directed at Logan, "why don't you hold this?"
There was nowhere else for plants nor flowers, every surface taken by those already delivered.
"Okay," Logan says, "put it here."
Jose took the bait and as he set it down on Logan's lap, the back of his hand senses something meaty!
Then they are interrupted again by someone entering.
"Oh," Jose says, "before I don't get the chance, here's my card, in case either of you," he snickers, "or both of you have a question about how to take care of the plant."
Logan laughs, "don't worry We'll be in touch. I'm a houseplant killer!"
Ritchie differs, but still garners Jose's attention, "I'm good with house plants, but this bouquet could probably use a vase, since it's kind of tickling me?"
Oh man, would Jose rather be the one tickling Ritchie under the balls, "I'll see if I can find something," he dashes out of the room.
Entering is a man with a young child, and walking right to the patient, "you must be Ritchie?"
Ritchie didn't really notice the young son, more paying attention to `handsome dad', "that's me."
"My wife wanted me to drop by," an instant downer for any gay man, gazing upon a hottie, "with our son to pay a visit," he nods for the kid to approach the bed.
"My mom made these cookies, but says it's not enough to thank you for saving our lives."
`Handsome dad' introduces himself, "I'm Brad and well, I know a tin full of cookies is hardly pittance for what you did for our family today." He takes a business card out of a vest pocket, "if you're ever in need of a place to stay, give me a call and I'll show you some nice places to buy or rent, of course at a discounted rate."
Logan, always out for the glorious part, "does he get a family discount or something? You know, we're boyfriends, and soon we're going to be shacking up together, so can probably stand to have a break?"
"Guaranteed, you'll be paying next to nothing."
Handing Logan a card, he reads, "thanks, Sean, I'm sure we'll be in touch."
There was a lot of silent language, acting out, which surely Sean jr. wasn't aware of, but Ritchie, Logan and whoever else pay attention to the conversation, could detect that sooner than later, dad-Sean, Ritchie and Logan were going to be in close quarters, `doing stuff'!
All afternoon it seemed the case, as someone left, another arrived, toting flowers, sugary stuff to eat, the room filling up, spilling over into the trashed half, till it didn't resemble a hospital room, nor the trashed look of two men acting out their differences.
"Just like I said, Ritchie, you're a hero and it's gonna get around, people flocking here to meet you."
To Ritchie, even so some hot guys visited him today, the sweetest of them couldn't compare to Logan.
Soon Ritchie literally tired of the comings and goings, Logan as well falling prey to the `yawns', started to feel woozy. Lance takes over meeting and greeting people out in the hallway.
Occasionally, more often than not, Donato would happen by and as they talked more and more, found they were slowly gravitating towards each other in more ways than friendship.
"So, what time you get off your shift?"
Donato, "it's not when I'm getting off my shift, but what am I doing after I get off this shift," his hand planes over down the front of Lance's shirt, hitting some of the hotspots, nips, all the way down to a secret brushing of cock and balls.
It's then Lance chances it, at the possibility of losing Donato, but waiting maybe producing the same, "I can get into some pretty wild stuff?"
Right on target, Donato says, "hm, does that mean I should bring some hospital tubing to wrap around your balls?"
"Huh?"
Donato pulls Lance into a more secluded room, one of the doctors' offices he knows quite well, "don't tell me you've never experienced the euphoria of having tubing wrapped around your cock and balls and then warm water run through?"
"No," Lance imagines it, "but if it turns you on, I'm sure it'll do the same for me!"
The placard on the door read, `Dr. Jared Pliars', but the two were too busy whisking themselves in, to stop and read.
Then there it was, Donato too turned on to keep his hard shaft from receding, makes sure the office door is locked.
Turning right back around, Donato's hands were on Lance's belt, unfastening it, with instruction, "you get the shirt."
Lance loved the directive, beginning to work the buttons of his shirt.
"C'mon, hurry it up," Donato's voice turns gruff, "get that shirt off."
With his shirt parted down the middle, revealing a layer of fur, Lance says, "or what?"
"Working over above the waist, before I get equally brutal on that ass, turn you on?"
"Yes, sir. Certainly, sir. Anything you want, sir."
`The man of my dreams', Lance can only think, unbuckling his belt, but of the change in Donato's personality, "what's puzzling me though, is where the change in you came?"
Donato backs off, "I guess you can say I'm a good reader of people."
"Oh, so I'm the match to your alpha?"
"Or," Donato fesses up, "it could go the other way around. I like the type of man who likes to follow orders, but that's not to say I don't like taking orders, if you catch my drift?"
Lance smiles, saying, "well you could have certainly saved yourself a bunch of words and said you are versatile?"
Thinking on it for five seconds, Donato says, "hm, I suppose that's what I am then. But the question remains, which are you?"
Naked from the waist up, Lance advances towards Donato, "nice of you to share about yourself, which I'm sure you're not going to run away when I tell you that sexually, I like to have a little s&m in the mix. You do know what that means?"
From the whole furry facade, Lance's totally furry frontal assault, Donato was getting some ideas, "um, do you like the sexual part without the s&m, or is pain part of your sexual means of getting off?"
Helping himself to lifting Donato's blue hospital top, Lance says, "first, I'd like to know what I'm working with!"
It took little effort for Donato to lift his arms high, as if hanging from the rafters.
"Hm, nice." He didn't wait for Donato to respond, Lance helping himself to the right side of the pectorals, cupping an open mouth over the left, lightly furred nip.
"Dayam," Donato exclaims, his head dropping back in awe, wonder and excitement, feeling Lance's tongue play with his nip.
He stops the licking, the lip-cupping, long enough to caress Lance's face.
"Wow," Lance says, "not only do you have tasty nips, but your a good kisser too!"
Lance couldn't deny he was a bit nervous and with those earthquaked nerves rattling, he would often resort to some stooped humor.
Hearing commotion outside the doctor's office, the sound of a key in the lock, Donato, who is prepared for such incidents, "quick. Get dressed."
They tossed shirt to each other, but of the briefs on the floor, each grabbed what was nearest, convenient, stepping in.
Time had run out, but upon light seeping in through the chink in the door, Donato says, "oh, it's you Dr. Pliars?"
He flings the door open enough for the doc to enter.
The doc gives Donato a look as if wanting to say, `what's wrong with you', but simply states it, "of course it's me. This is my office, isn't it?"
Smiling was not only because that's the way they were to each other, but another reason the doc creased his lips up, "since when did you stop wearing speedos?"
Lance had the time to pull his street clothes on, but Donato, even though an easier assemblage with hospital blues, had a chance to cover his pecs, put briefs, no time for the bottom blues.
However, he did know Donato, both on a professional and friends level, the doctor saying, "so, what were you two up to here in the dark with the door locked, as if I didn't know?"
Having a gruff manner about him, not only his professionalism, but expertise at anything medical got Dr. Jared Pliars to where he is today, chief medical officer at the hospital. On a private level, he didn't need anything but a commanding manner, long hard shaft and the ability to order a man to the position he wanted him in.
Lance says, "I should get back to my brother."
Stepping forward towards the door, Lance is greeted by Dr. Pliars' hand on his chest, "hold on a second there."
Lance couldn't deny that hand on his chest translated to something sexual, "sure. Okay."
He took it as being asked to stay put.
Donato just stood there taking it all in. He knew from experience, when the doctor interacted with another man, his place was to keep silent and observe.
"Starting with right now, you're going to do everything I tell you to do."
The doctor had to have at least 10 years of age on Lance. Many more years developing, crafting fetishes, finding an expertise among the various things which could go beyond yet include, getting a man off. But the demeanor, more youthful attitude, made Lance feel more like his teens and not twenty-nine years old.
Right before the accident which killed both parents and severely injured his brother, Lance had started meeting with a man, whereas it very much started out like Dr. Pliars, so he was no stranger to being ordered about, "yes, sir."
"Hm, I like your attitude. Unbutton my shirt."
Then, over Lance's shoulder, "Donato, get the door."
"Yes, sir," he hurried to turn the lock and come back.
A few minutes ago Donato was ready to be the commander of Lance's world but with the ability to swing back and forth, now became the servant of Dr. Pliars, bending to his every whim. Though it's only been a few weeks since he's known Dr. Pliars, they connect very well in thought, words and dick-to-ass!
Lance could already tell, the doctor's broad shoulders and the way his chest bulged, the taut stomach, he was a major gym participant. Opening the shirt, he pulls the fabric out of pants and gazing upon the neck to navel view, "wow, you're beautiful."
"You think so?"
Lance smiles, "good enough to eat!"
Far as Dr. Pliars was concerned, this was going too easy. Unlike many a guy, he liked things stretched out. Too, he wasn't used to two naked men in his presence at once. He had thought about it, expanding his horizons, but with Donato, he found one was enough to keep him satisfied.
Donato had been at the hospital when Dr. Pliars was annexed to the hospital staff. From the very first moment, the two had made eye connection, but it wasn't until later in the week they met one on one, alone together.
Whenever they passed in the hallway, which for Dr. Pliars was torture, a strong desire to reach out and kiss and as he liked, mixing some smooching with a hand contact between the knees!
Decades ago, in his teen years Dr. Pliars had been mentored by a college football coach. Not in which he was a football player, but hitching a ride had it's advantages. The coach was, in Jared's eyes, the macho type who liked to have his way. However, when the coach made a detour and took Jared to his house instead of the college gym, he found it a little weird that an alpha type guy could offer him rope.
"I've never been tied up before."
The coach, whom Jared knew by campus gaming, was simply known as Coach Greene. No one in recent history could ever recall his first name.
"No, the rope's not for you. It's for me."
Looking about the large room at the coach's home, Jared stalled out of ignorance. He hadn't a clue, other than having seen some movie which had a guy tied to a chair, or a half-naked cowboy strung up to the rafters of a barn.
Of what else a rope could be used for, "so, let me get this straight, you want me to use the rope on you?"
"Right. And when you get me tied down," Coach Greene had already stripped, "you can have your way with me."
Undeniably, cruising the coach's bod from head to crotch, what lurked in between the thighs was a substantial endowment. Plus, since Jared loved to view hairy, naked men, the coach's fuzzy, ginger chest, darker stripe and the way it massed around his deep navel, the neatly trimmed pubes, it all was a draw, which got him thirst for not just hand-touching.
On entering his first year of medical school, Jared knew he would be doing more than hitting the books, his freshman year thought of as an indoctrination into the world of gay sex, which more had a lid on it, being brought up in a world where a person was told there was no such thing as `gay sex', that it was social disease, which could be cured.
"Let me get this straight," Jared already held the rope in his hands as he watched the naked coach climb up on the sheets and volunteer to stretch limbs out to the four corners of the bed, "you want me to tie you to the bed. And then what?"
He had kissed another teen boy, touched the crotch area, but never had the opportunity to suck or fuck, but knew what the terms meant.
"Correct. And once you get me into that position," Coach Greene shrugs both shoulders, "I'm yours for the taking."
Jared couldn't deny all that ginger fur was alluring, the main draw, the darker stripe beginning mid-chest, cutting chiseled abs in half, then acting like an arrow, pointed at a target.
"Okay," Jared said, in that type of tone that guy doesn't know what he's required to do.
He finally sits up and like he's never been in this type of scenario before, "you don't have a clue about bdsm, do you?"
"What was that?"
"Bdsm. Don't worry, you're to the only one, but if you hand me the cell phone out of my pants pocket, we can fix that."
After handing the coach his phone, Jared, at the time a stranger to the world of captives and how to treat them, waits and wonders.
At the touch of a number, coach is speaking into the phone, "yeah, Dontae, I've got a guy here who hasn't a clue what to do to a guy who's tied up."
There's silence, as Jared waits and wonders, biting a lip out of nervousness.
"Ten minutes? You got it." After swiping his phone up, Coach Greene says, "Dontae says he's on his way."
Curious, Jared says, "is Dontae on the football team?"
"Yeah, but a few towns over. I don't play with men I know."
"But you know me?"
"I didn't know you until I picked you up on the road."
"But I've seen you coaching a game at the same college I go to, so we're bound to see each other."
"Then for both our sakes, I hope you know how to keep a secret."
When Dontae shows, Coach Greene sends him to the front door.
With a slight accent, the cocoa-cream-colored man exclaims, "damn, you're a hot one. Might just allow you to tie me down!"
He was big, in the height and weight sense, a true footballers frame, which had Jared guessing, "tied down and then what?"
Dontae knew the stairway, taking them up to the second floor bedroom, Jared trailing, but aware of the ass he was following!
From opening the bedroom door, barging right in, Dontae strips his shirt, "good you called, Coach. I was feeling kind of hyper."
Other than his high school locker room, Jared had never seen a man of color up closer than he is now. Fact is, being any naked man could be tempestuous, he learned to not stare. Now he felt he could stare all he wanted!
"I wouldn't have disturbed you Dontae, other than this freshman hasn't a clue to bondage, or if I'm not mistaken, what to do once a man gets tied down."
Standing there, hands on hips, flaunting that slightly haired, wide bod chest, Dontae says, "have you even ever kissed a boy?"
"Once," Jared says, feeling his face go blush!
"Well, all I can say is, this will be your big chance to explore."
"Explore? Like, how would that go?"
An evil smile on Dontae's face, he renders, "oh, this is going to be so much fun!"
When they got down to business, which first began with Dontae going totally nude and not allowing Jared to do for himself, strip shirt, pants, undies, socks and not without the footballer taking liberties to taste as he went along.
"Wow, you're awesome, Donate. I like never felt a man's tongue on me like that."
On his knees after grabbing briefs on the way down, Dontae feels casual in taking Jared's shaft on his palm, "bet you never had a blow job?"
He was already partially hard, but Dontae feeling him up, "are you going to do it?"
"Hell no. That's what we've got coach for!"
Jared couldn't help but laugh, Dontae doing the same.
Rising to his feet, Donate says, "but first we need to make coach `uncomfortable'!"
Watching Dontae get to work, choosing a length of rope, lassoing it around Coach Greene's wrist and like he wasn't a stranger to bondage, "you look like you've done this a million time over?"
"Not quite that many, but yeah, maybe hundred times."
By now Jared's cock was really ticking, "care to share a few steamy stories?"
As Dontae threads the rope up and over the wrought iron barrier at the top of the bed, taking other lengths of the clothesline looking bondage material, works some loops over ankles, "I never tied a man to the bed until after that first time he picked me up hitching to class."
"Wow then, maybe it wasn't an accident that he picked me up hitching?"
"Have you ever seen coach around campus?"
"I've seen him a couple of times coaching. I might have seen his car on the road as I'm walking to or from campus. I live off campus and prefer the exercise."
"You don't live on campus?"
"Nah, but it's not like my folks can't afford it."
"I see," Dontae says, standing back, admiring Coach Greene, tethered eagle-spread to the bed. He asks, "so, how do you like the stretch between the legs?"
Nervous, Jared jokes, "it might be a temptation to do something with that gaping hole between the legs?"
Coach speaks up, "that's one of the reasons I had Dontae come over."
"This is one thing we don't want."
Jared questions, "what don't we want?"
He watches as Dontae not only picks up his boy-briefs, but lycra speedo-type lingerie, "we do what we want to do, not what coach tells us to do."
"Fuck that, Dontae," coach barks.
"See what I mean," Dontae says as his hands make light work of knitting together both the speedo-briefs and his Hanes.
"What are you doing?"
"It's called bondage," Dontae says, mounting the bed, both knees to the sides of coach's bod. "Unless you want to do it?"
He holds the joined briefs by a fingertip, arm held out, inviting Jared to mount the bed.
It was a huge bed too, most likely king sized, though its never been said.
Mimicking Dontae, Jared kneels on the bed and knee-walks his way to the left side of Coach's naked bod, between the side and the outstretched, bound left arm.
"Okay, but you're going to have to show me how to do it."
"For real?" Dontae says.
It was at this point, a pair of eyes coursing down and then back up his bod.
True to this feeling, Dontae turns to him, placing a hand behind his neck and for the first time in his life, Jared gets kissed by a non-white guy, exclaiming, "I guess there's a first time for everything!"
"Don't tell me, Jared Pliars, you are a college freshman and have never been kissed?" Dontae acts shocked!
"Oh, I've been kissed, except I think more it was me doing the kissing, but it's just that...I don't want to sound racial here, but it's always been a white guy."
Dontae repeats the gesture, taking Jared's neck in his massive hand, forcing them both together over Coach's fuzzy chest, their lips entwining in a long, long kiss.
"Hey Dontae, I didn't bring you here for a lesson in kissing?"
Jared is shocked, Dontae breaking off the kiss, taking the massive hand that draw him into it and with a mighty sweep, slaps Coach Greene right across his half-hard shaft.
"Akk-k-k-k-k, oh shit, Dontae."
Jared reacts in shock, "dayam, that's gotta hurt!"
At least that's the way it looked, still bobbing around, coach's shaft, from about midway to the slit, was red looking.
"I think an apology is in store."
Jared thought it was meant for him, "I'm really sorry."
Coach Greene, even though the sting lingers, laughs his ass off, "shit, that's funny as hell!"
In seconds he's screaming in pain, the second sweep of that massive hand causing coach to shriek in pain, gritting his teeth, "damn you, Dontae."
It's then that Jared's real training began, "lesson one, discipline."
"Oh? How's that go?"
"When a boy hurts enough, then he will behave."
That took Jared back a thought or two, "`boy'?"
Dontae saw he had his work cut out for him, "you must forget Coach Greene is older than us. You must even forget he is a man. He is a piece of shit to us."
"Isn't that kind of disrespectful?"
Half-cocked smirk, Dontae was liking the tutelage more and more, or maybe it was the one he was tutoring, regardless, "respectfulness is in the hands of the master. The one that commands. In this case, there are two masters."
"Me? A master?" Jared chortles, "I'm an eighteen year old college freshman. Coach, he's got be about forty?"
"Hey," Coach Greene takes that on the defensive, "I'm thirty-two, I'll have you know!"
"There it goes, speaking again. What do you think we should do?"
"Um," Jared has to swallow for this one, "slap his dick again?"
"Good suggestion. Go ahead."
"It's a little tough, being his cock is behind my back?"
"Not a problem," Dontae pushes himself around, till balls of his knees are facing coach's crotch, knees aligned next to the rib cage, feet flat against he outstretched arms, ball of one foot right in coach's pit.
Doing what Dontae did, Jared moves around, placing himself in the same position. Only difference, Dontae casually uses coach's abs for a resting place, an elbow right in the gut.
"So, how do I do this?"
"First things first," Dontae says, lining Jared's lips up to his.
Strangely, Jared didn't think he would dig it, but finds himself kissing back.
Breaking, Dontae says, "you are a good kisser, Jared."
"Oh boy," coach says in frustration.
"Am I supposed to punish coach for that, I mean the boy?"
It still felt radical to Jared, a grown man a `boy' to him.
"Of course."
Coach gets adamant, based on how he and Dontae have role--played, "he didn't tell me I couldn't talk?"
"Manners, boy!"
"Oh shit," Jared says, after having witnessed Dontae's massive fist come down like a judge's gavel, pounding coach's stomach!
"Ughhhhh!"
No sooner had coach reacted, Jared sees something rather amazing, a spurt of come shooting out of the tip of his hard shaft!
So astounded is Jared, "did you see that?"
Tormenting coach, Dontae starts at the base and circling coach's slimy shaft, works his hand to the flange, making it bubble over with semen, "you ain't seen nothin' yet!"
"Oh no...no, no, no, no, no," coach repeats over and over, Dontae's hand, lubed with pre-cum, slides down, then up and down.
"If you wanna see coach blow a really big load, grab both nips and pulverize them."
Not thinking he heard right, Jared says, "do what?"
It was sheer torture to have his shaft worked, but then again, the same effect, when Dontae loses the grip for demonstration purposes, latching on to both coach's nips, "let me guess, you never touched another man's nips?"
"No. Haven't."
"Go ahead then, you work his dick and I'll take care of these."
Jared had a lot of firsts that day. In addition to kissing a hot, older man, he pulverized his first set of nips, stroked cock until it bubbled over, and at one point, as Dontae pulled and twisted coach's nips, by way of his mentor's instruction, worked the slimy shaft while sinking a finger deeper and deeper into coach's ass tunnel.
"I'll give you first choice, you want his ass or mouth?"
Now which Dontae could feel doubt about it, "don't tell me you've never fucked a guy?"
"Nope."
Dontae knew all the ins and outs, so when coach adamantly stresses, "I don't want no freshman poking his thing where it doesn't belong!"
He knew it meant just the opposite, so Dontae says, "which means he wants you up there."
"But he said..."
"You want to do his ass, or mouth?" Dontae tries hurrying up the issue, based on he knew coach wouldn't be lasting long and a hard shaft is a terrible thing to waste.
"Um, uh. I don't know."
"Very well," Dontae crawls down to where he can lift coach's legs onto his own shoulders, "sit on his chest and feed your cock down his throat."
However, as Dontae lifts coach's legs, lines up his shaft with the hole, he has a change of heart, "no. Wait. Stand and turn back around this way."
When Jared does as his mentor requests, he's left with, "but my dick, it's like, right in your face?"
So, that's how it went, Dontae stuffing his shaft in to the hilt, while Jared filled Dontae's mouth. He was amazed how something slow and staggered worked its way into a synced operation.
Like hell did coach want to do a crunch, but even with his tongue sticking out of his mouth he couldn't reach Jared's hairy ass.
Both Jared and Dontae came within two seconds of each other, Dontae resorting in kissing Jared's lips, instead of sucking down his cream. Instead of down Dontae's gullet, Jared's cream shot out, sputtering against the fucker's chest, streaming down, adding to the lubed mess below. Then, with a sigh of relief, the then young Jared's legs caved in and coach's tongue finally got it's taste of hairy ass.
Fact of the matter, as Dontae was pulling out, because he suddenly had the urge to shoot his load all over Jared's fuzzy front, he got the brunt of coach's spunk. A double whammy, only minutes apart, he was not only tasting Jared's semen, but now coach. The erupting spunk, which he also was not only the cause, but effect, ropes of cum, until he fell forward between the parting coach's legs. Of course this meant Dontae also had his first taste of a man's cock, even though Jared had spent his load.
Between then and now, the two have met, Dontae teaching Jared everything there is to know about bdsm play.
From there, Jared has gone on to spread the knowledge, in particular, onto Donato, who now has successfully conquered others. Of them is Tom, Mat's partner at the yoga studio. Between them, Dontae and Jared keep it secret, the ritual developed, whomever comes first in the 6-9 suck-off, the one with the pent up reserve gets to fuck the other.
Dontae is always amazed at how Jared manages to make him cum, then from force of habit, it the one bending over doggie-style. Friends for life, they keep it secret to this day, Jared the only one who has ever conquered Dontae's ass.
(Oh, but now `you' know too!)
%
% 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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