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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Puppy for Sale 3.19 - Life After Greenstone - 6. Burt Ribbons

I found myself in Chariots on a Wednesday night, having flipped burgers, fried chicken, and peeled plastic cheese from a packet. Plastic cheese! Have you ever thought about that as you bite into that yellow sheet dumped in your burgers? The Satan born company Kraft made it famous. The same company that muscled its way into a renowned chocolate company. Jesus, Mr Cadbury would be turning in his grave if he knew his company had been snatched by a place that makes... plastic fucking cheese!

"You look lost there," Joey said, punching my arm as I sat slumped at the bar.

"You like plastic cheese?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind. So you drinking with me tonight?"

"Might have one. But hey, Burt is coming in tonight; he's hilarious. You must meet him."

"Burt?" I asked, perplexed. Thinking at the same time how I would have preferred Joey to myself tonight. Because that's the shallow, self-absorbed sleaze bag I am.

"What?" Joey asked, giving me a weird look.

"What."

"I saw your lips moving, but no sound coming out."

"Did I mime sleaze bag?"

"Maybe." Joey replied with a creased forehead. "You're away with the fairies tonight."

"Anyway, tell me about Burt, is he fitter than you?"

Joey blushed, I swear. "Uh, not exactly; he almost seventy."

I laughed out loud, thinking how that would actually work in a club full of young people. Chariots was NOT what you would think of as a place for someone with a free bus pass. "Do you have a defibrillator nearby?"

"Hey, be nice; he's a close friend and a great babysitter when Mum is working. He's as camp as a Christmas tree as well," Joey added, smiling playfully. I rolled my eyes, slightly drunk.

"Hey Joey," I called as he was walking away.

"Yeah?"

"Get me a coffee, would you. I guess if I am to meet the famous Burt, I should really have a clear head."

"Coming right up. Oh, hey Jack," Joey turned his head slightly, obviously seeing his husband in his peripheral vision.

"Hey Boy, Hey Jensen."

"Please, call me Puppy."

"Oh yeah, you said. Well, I'll try, but it's a strange name to get used to."

"Believe me, big boy, you will."

"Oooh, hear that, Joey? Jen... Puppy just called me big boy."

Joey frowned. "Pffft, I've seen bigger!"

I pissed myself laughing, watching Jack's complexion drown as he was burned in the cock department.

Jack was suddenly disturbed by an old man behind him. Dressed in a plush, velvet, dark green suit. No tie, but equally smart, he ran a finger down Jack's back, then Immediately eyeing me.

"Ahhhh, little Jack, do my eyes deceive my ageing being, you're looking as lovely as ever. And what's this delightful young twink you have in your company?"

"Burt! Good to see you. I could have sworn you look younger than last week." Jack said, turning around.

"Such a charming little minx you are. So are you going to introduce me to this fine specimen?"

"Oh sure, Burt, this is the Puppy."

"Yes, I'm sure he is, hmmmm."

"Puppy, meet Burt."

Burt splayed his fingers out to me before gently stroking my cheek in a manner that reminded me of the Grinch for some reason.

"Good to meet you, Burt."

"Likewise, my little rainbow of sexual tease. And how old must you be? I'd say not a day over legal."

"Uh, well, I'm nineteen," I replied, blushing.

"Well, young enough. And look at you, so charming and soft. So boys, let me buy you both a drink to cement our little soirée."

"Hey, don't forget the Barman!"

"How could I forget, my Prince. Say, Joey, you look smoking tonight. Just enough to keep this ticker of mine in business for another three months, I'm sure."

Joey curtsied before rolling his eyes and went to serve the next customer waiting. I sat a little nervous, feeling this quirky flirting bastard was going to swallow me up with his eyes as he tried hard to flutter them at me every ten seconds.

"Puppy here is studying Child Phycology, Burt." Jack said. I don't know why.

"Awww, but the darling is just a child himself, Jackolous. But such hairy legs, look at those," he stated, looking down, seeing my sitting position on the stool was stretching my tight jeans upwards. I subtlety pulled at the thigh part, moving them down.

"Oh no, no-no. Cherub, with ankles like that, you need to set them free. It's just a shame summer only comes around once a year. Such a thing of mine, shins and ankles."

"Not legs?" I asked, confused.

"Darling, when you get to my age, you can be very specific on what you like, seeing as you've had so many years learning to be fussy. I am now going to demand my soul live long enough to see your lower limbs when the scorch comes around for its yearly feast upon young men's flesh.

"Burt, stop flirting with the poor lad; you're making him nervous," Joey called from the other end of the bar. Jack, on the other hand, was enjoying me squirming.

"I say, you wouldn't begrudge an old man buying you boys some dinner, would you. It's so lonely in that big old house since Cyril left this earth, and I guarantee your company will be better than anything on the menu, alone.

"Well, I should be studying, but I've had a few drinks, so why not? That would be lovely," I offered warmly.

"I say, Joey, what time can you get away?"

"One sec, Burt," Joey called, in the middle of serving two rather camp people mincing at the bar. I could see Jack out of the corner of my eye, staring at me. I liked the attention, but it was Joey who was on my mind. Oh, and Steven, of course.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Burt had taken us to a nice restaurant uptown and ordered two very expensive bottles of wine. I'd never been here before. The place was very upmarket and posh. White tablecloth's hung from every table, with fresh flowers in the middle. I was lost in thoughts of Steven as Burt, with his very odd way of speaking, chatted to Joey and Jack.

Bringing myself back to the present moment, I studied Joey and Jack as they sat opposite each other. It was clear, although they loved each other, their relationship was dead. While Burt sang his stories of gay episodes in bars, the boys just communicated with him and not each other.

"Another top-up," Burt asked, suspending me from my thoughts.

"Sure, why not? Thanks, Burt."

"So, my dear handsome chap. Where is your fellow? A good looking boy like you should have a man on your arm, no?"

"Erm, it's, well, it's complicated," I stuttered out.

"His boy is in Prison," Jack intervened, almost making me choke on a mouthful of Merlot.

"Oh gosh, that's ghastly. What did he do? That's, of course, if you don't mind me asking?"

"No, it's fine, Burt," I said, trying to recover my composure. "He has an anger problem. Anyway, we're not together anymore."

"And a good job too," Jack said, clinking his glass against mine. "You can do better, Puppy. You're a hunk!"

I blushed before smiling. Jack winked at me, which I think was caught by Joey. He said nothing.

"So, Burt," I started, feeling a little confident with the wine in my system. "What happened to Cyril?"

"My chap? Well, I came home a few weeks ago and found him dead in his chair. Avid reader my Cyril. Books everywhere. The one he was reading was still attached to his hands. Got about fifteen pages in and left me."

"Oh, Burt, that's so sad."

"Good way to go through, I think. Just sitting there reading and then bang, you check out. God, I miss him. But, as they say, Life must indeed go on. And having you three for company tonight really does take the sting out of being alone."

"It was a great dinner, Burt, Joey added, taking a healthy gulp from his glass.

"Well, boys, I will get the bill and a taxi for you, and we'll head off, shall we? Henry, my dear fellow," Burt called, stretching his neck with his hand up. The waiter promptly arrived at the table and gave a slight bow. "Would you do me the honour of getting the bill, dear boy?"

"Of course, Mr Ribbons, will you like it on your account?"

"Oh, oh yes, please, and order a taxi for me and the twinks please?"

Henry clapped his hands together and nodded. "Of course, Taxi for four." Henry backed away, and I turned my attention back to Burt.

"Thank you guys for a great evening. I agree with Burt that being here with you guys has done wonders.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Back at my flat, I'd text Burt to thank him again and said good night. He was a nice guy, I felt. Genuine, kind and straight up. Almost like a camp grandfather. I smiled, thinking about that before picking up my phone and calling Steven. It rang a few times before the line connected.

"What, It's late!" came a grumpy voice.

"Uh, yeah, erm, I've had a few glasses of wine, and I thought...."

"You thought you'd call me at midnight," Steven cut in. "And what do I owe the pleasure Douchebag?"

"I wanted to talk to you. I miss you."

The line went quiet as I waited for Steven to respond. "Why?"

"Why what?" I asked, confused.

"Why do you miss me? You seem to be doing okay on you're own. At least now the Pitbull is in the slammer."

"Can you come around?"

"What?! Don't be stupid. I'd wake Mum and Dad up, and then what?"

"Drive over, so we can talk!" I said in a commanding tone.

"Puppy, go to bed, get some sleep. I'll come over in the morning. I'm not having a conversation with you when you're half-cut!"

I hung up, and threw the phone down next to me. "Stupid shit!" I muttered as I got up and headed to the bedroom. I took my jeans and shirt off before getting under the covers. Slightly horny, I pressed my dick down, which for some reason had become hard, even though I hadn't been thinking of anything... or anyone. Then, switching the lamp off which sat next to me, I plunged the room into darkness. Sleep came fast as I don't remember even nodding off.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I jolted up, suddenly hearing a loud knocking on my front door. With my head in a haze and slightly throbbing from the wine the night before, I stumbled out of bed in my boxers and headed to the door.

"Who is it?" I asked, wondering how whoever it was had got through the security door down below.

"It's me. You gonna open up or what?" Steven called from the other side. I unlocked the door and opened it, seeing him standing there, looking scruffy.

"Come in," I offered, moving out of the way so he could pass. Steven walked past me and went straight into the lounge. I closed the door, putting an end to the cold air that was attacking my legs. I went through to the lounge and sat down opposite him.

"So?" He grunted, taking off his black Superdry puffer jacket.

"You want a coffee or something?" I asked, running my hands down my face.

"You look like shit! A few too many last night, I gather?"

"Urrrgh. I think I have a drinking problem."

"Mum wants you to come home. Sell this place and come home."

"I know. I've been thinking about that quite a bit."

"Can you afford this place without the Pitbull?"

I looked up suddenly. "His name is Hunter, and no, I can't. The mortgage is eating into my savings, and I don't think I want to live with Hunter when he gets out."

Steven's expression changed to one of surprise. His eyes, wide. "You don't THINK? What the fuck? If I were you, I would sell this place and wrap it all up before he gets out. In fact, I would get a fucking restraining order out on him."

"Steven, he's never laid a finger on me. It's because of me he gets into these problems."

"Bullshit. He has choices. I mean, sure, we all get angry, but we don't go around assaulting people because they look at your boyfriend."

"Stevie, I know all this. Fuck, can we drop it?"

"So, why am I here?"

"Look, I was a bit drunk and thought it would be a good idea to meet up last night. It was stupid."

"Yeah, and you hung up on me. God knows why? You called me!"

"Can we forget about last night?"

"I'm gonna make a coffee while you work out why I am here."

Steven got up and headed into my open-plan kitchen area, and switched on the kettle.

"Make me one?"

"If I must."

"You're here because Cindy said...."

"Cindy said what?" Steven butted in, quickly coming back into the lounge.

I lunged at Steven and grabbed his neck, pressing my lips against his. He whimpered and let me explore his mouth with my tongue. I grabbed his rapidly inflating dick in my hand and squeezed hard. A hitched breath escaped his mouth as I kissed him even more passionately.

Pulling away, I looked into his eyes as he stared into mine. "Cindy was right then?"

"My head is fucking screwed up, okay? I've never gotten over you leaving."

"Why didn't you say?"

"Why didn't I... what the fuck, Puppy, we're Stepbrothers. It's always been a complicated situation. But I don't fucking like guys, okay?"

Steven broke our embrace and fell onto the sofa. I just stood there waiting for a response... a reaction.

"You can't say you don't like guys, Stevie, when you do that to me."

"Hey, you started it. Look fucker, I miss you, okay. I want you to come back to Mum and Dad's house and live with us again."

"I miss you too. It's just I don't think anything can happen between us. It's just a bit fucked up."

Steven shook his head. "I know, Don't fucking tell me. But, look, make me a coffee, will you? And put some fucking clothes on."

"What shall I do first, Master?" I asked, sarcastic, clasping my hands together and bowing to him.

Steven got up out of the sofa and ripped off my twenty-pound pair of Box boxers, the fucker!. Then, working furiously, he jerked me off as I gripped the kitchen counter. Frustratingly, as much as I tried to hold back, he brought me to an orgasm in what must have been under three minutes before pulling his own dick out, busting all over my kitchen floor in an almost instant trip to nirvana.

I think we needed to have a deep conversation after cleaning up.

Copyright © 2021 James Matthews; All Rights Reserved.
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Thank you to all my loyal readers. Those hardcore JM cheerleaders and those who thought they'd give me a shot. I relish your feedback, reactions and comments. 
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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On 11/4/2021 at 1:32 PM, chris191070 said:

I love Burt, he's a sweet old man who loves the company of twinks.

Puppy and Stephen didn't get much talking done. But we do know that Cindy was right and Stephen loves Puppy. I think things are gonna get complicated for Puppy and Stephen.

Why talk when sexual sign language and Braille are so powerful! Hahaha 🤣 

Edited by Philippe
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A long heartfelt and painfully honest conversation needs to happen between these two. No holding back because their parents won't understand (they will) or whatever. They have a connection of the undeniable sort and avoidance of such never, ever works because the magnetism between the two is a primal force. If they don't deal with it -- and by deal I mean explore -- the bitter "what ifs" will tear them apart and taint any relationships the two pursue independently.

Find out what you fear. Name what you dream of. Cite your nightmares without fear of judgement. Agree upon what you could, at bare minimum, live with. These two young men are in a relationship whether they want to be or not and they must decide how to define it going forward, so neither is permanently scarred by the experience.

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