Sex in the Sky

*PART FOUR — UNDENIABLE*

“”It’s been a while since I added to this Vampire story arc. A Boy Who… kind of took me away from it but rest assured Rayne and Kevan have not been forgotten. This is quite a difficult storyline to work with as it will tackle Rayne’s own personal issues with abuse head on but he is an older and stronger character than he was during the period of A Boy Who… Kevan was created as an incidental character but as with the fictional persona of Ant, I’m becoming rather fond of him.”"

*

Rayne Wylde was pissed off and he was tired. Worse than that he was hungry. He had been alternately pacing his apartment and tossing restlessly on his bed for the past twenty-four hours with the taste of Kev Delaney’s blood on his lips and in his mouth. Last night whilst Kev was fucking him in the car he had bitten the mortal out of sheer frustration with his behaviour. Now he wished he had taken the time to feed instead.

The Vampire had snatched a good mouthful from Kev’s boss, McCall before they left him trussed up in the back of his car but it was not enough to take away the memory of Kev’s rich, coppery blood and spunk. Rayne loved to suck cock. Next to bleeding a lover in the throes of orgasm it was the best rush in the world. A half-pint of semen was almost as nourishing as a blood feed and much easier to obtain in this day and age. That thought only served to remind him of how bone-gnawingly ravenous he was.

If Jabez were here he would have reminded his Fledge that it was important to feed regularly. Rayne knew it well enough by now. If he did not hunt and feed he only grew cranky and tired, then increasingly sluggish until it was almost too hard to rouse himself to the prospect of the chase. Cursing under his breath he hauled his body out of bed and into the shower.

The hot water stung his flesh until he began to feel warm and halfway alive again. After feeding and sex, a hot shower was the ‘next’ best thing in the world.

He was even able to laugh admonishingly at himself as he towelled his naked body dry and searched out some dark, neutral clothing that was discreet enough to hunt in. One of the most rewarding things about being in a relationship, he deliberated as he slipped out into the night, feeling the cool wind stir his damp, black hair, was that he always knew where the next meal was coming from. If he was feeling too lazy to hunt he knew that he could always fall back on Kev. His lover had never minded the sting of sharp little teeth in his neck, or wrist, or thigh as Rayne was rising and falling on his big cock or straddling his face on the bed or the lounge floor.

The Vampire stopped and frowned to himself as he reached the corner of Canal Street, deciding on a route for the evening. When had he started to think of Kev as a part of his life? How easily did the word ‘relationship’ slip into his mental vocabulary? This was just ridiculous! It had to stop. It was going to damned well stop. Tonight!

In the Union he ran into Dave, Kevan’s partner. Dave had once posed as a bartender here when he and Kev were undercover, hunting a rogue Vamp who had been killing young men in the district. He had found the habit of slipping down to the pub for a beer and some gossip on his way home from the late shift a hard one to break.

“Hey Ray? Isn’t Kev with you?” Dave asked, looking surprised to see him alone.

“We’re not joined at the hip,” the Vampire retaliated sharply. “Why would you think that?”

“Just that… he’s been hanging out at your place a lot recently, and you guys were supposedly coming over to ours last night and you never showed and Kev wasn’t in work today. I just figured that maybe…” Dave shrugged and did not finish the sentence.

‘Shit!’ Rayne had forgotten until now that they had indeed blown Dave and his boyfriend Bernard out thanks to Don Mac-fuckin’-Call and Kev’s insistence on showing his boss a good time. He felt aggrieved. Dave was a good guy and it would have been polite at least to ring him last night and explain that they had been held up.

Then he felt angry because he was making excuses to humans again. Jabez would be laughing at him now, if he could see this. Some pathetic Vampire he was.

“I haven’t seen him,” he lied, waving down the tall, dark-haired bar tender and pointing to his usual; a stiff shot of Stolichnaya on the rocks.

“Didn’t you have a date last night?” Dave frowned, puzzled by this.

“We did… I called it off.” Rayne accepted the shot glass and knocked his vodka back in one, pushing the little vessel back across the counter for a refill. “I was busy.”

“I bet he was gutted. He was really looking forward to seeing you.” Dave took a good pull on his beer and set the glass down with a speculative look. “Are you guys a bit rocky?”

“Nope,” Rayne threw down a second shot and pushed a fiver across the bar then rose to make a move. “Gotta go, Dave. Sorry about last night. We’ll have to rearrange it some time.”

He wriggled his fingers and headed for the exit before the mortal could ask any more awkward questions. Stupid of him really, he should have remembered that Dave might be in here at this time of night. Of course Dave knew that he was a Vamp. If he’d asked really nicely he might have coaxed the mortal to let him feed in return for a mutual hand-shandy or even a good blow job in the bogs.

‘Idiot!’ he cursed himself crossly and hurried down the canalside to see what was staggering out of the clubs on Princess Street.

The answer was not a great deal and most of it was not alone, much to his disgust. Instead he turned north towards Piccadilly. Rayne hated picking up in Piccadilly but there were bound to be guys around looking for trade and he could take advantage fairly easily. The plaza was still busy although it was past midnight now and he pulled his long coat around himself and huddled in the shelter of a statue, watching the drunks and the kids, looking out for strays or vulnerable loners in search of sex.

A lean, tall fellow with glasses perched on the end of his nose wandered by and looked him over then came back a few moments later. He was a bit scruffy in a classic Geography Teacher kind of way, corduroy jacket with patched elbows, a baggy sweater and crumpled brown pants. Rayne took pity on him and let the fellow lead him up an alley off Aytoun Street where he sank to his knees and swallowed the guy’s cock. It was long and narrow like the rest of him and Rayne deep-throated it for several minutes, allowing the guy to cum in his mouth twice. His spunk was watery and somewhat musty tasting but he swallowed it ravenously. Afterwards the Geography Teacher gave him twenty pounds and asked to kiss and feel him for a few minutes. Rayne kissed his neck as the skinny guy wormed both hands into his pants, stroking and fingering him. The fellow protested briefly when his sexy young mate nipped at his throat but carried on fondling him and thrusting his fingers into Rayne’s arsehole as the lad sucked and licked at the small, bloody wound under his adam’s apple. It was not much but it took the edge off his craving for blood.

“How much to fuck you?” the guy panted at last, visibly excited once more by all the groping and licking.

Rayne pulled him down by the shoulders and bit him again, more deeply this time. His fangs were razor sharp and few mortals actually realised what he was doing until it was far too late. He was sucking greedily on his victim’s neck when he felt the man pull down his pants and force him up against the wall. The Geography Teacher pulled Rayne’s hand onto his cock and encouraged him to pump it hard. He squirted all over Rayne’s black jeans and coat tails before they were able to do anything more intimate.

The Vampire retreated to lick his bloody fangs and try to mop some of the spunk off his clothing once his quarry had scuttled off in search of a cab. In a bus shelter on Chorlton Street he found a young clubber half-asleep on a plastic bench and bit gently into his exposed neck, sucking as tenderly as he could. The boy woke and they kissed for a while until he came to his senses and realised that Rayne was not a girl. The Vampire had fled, chuckling to himself, long before the lad could stagger to his feet.

This late at night Manchester stank of beer-sweat and hot fat. Hordes of club-goers drifted from doorway to doorway chattering like insects or gibbering and shrieking like a troupe of chimpanzees; the girls painfully cold in their minimalist attire; their boyfriends or would be boyfriends clad in uniforms that clearly marked their lifestyle and territory. Scrawny boys in tracksuit bottoms and hooded tops hovered without much hope of attracting any but the most brainless and impoverished of the females. The girls as ever were looking for mates with a bit of flash and gravitated to the youths in casual slacks or designer jeans and Tommy Hilfiger shirts. Rayne stayed clear of them all. He despised the pack mentality and knew it was a danger. Even though he could probably kill this lot single-handed he did not actively wish to. It would draw too much attention. That was something he would live longer without.

A dark saloon car pulled up beside him as he headed back along Portland Street. The passenger window rolled down smoothly and a rough, Scally voice called out; “You lookin’ for some company, angel?”

Rayne hesitated, then he opened the door and slipped into the warmth of the vehicle. This was only one guy, he could handle that, no matter what the fellow wanted. At once the saloon pulled away from the kerb and set off towards St. Peter’s Square. The driver stroked his crotch and grinned at him knowingly. He had close cropped, prematurely greying hair and very blue eyes in a face lined with creases and crinkles although he was probably not much older than forty. His build beneath the casual, short sleeved shirt and fitted jeans was still muscular and fairly trim. The crotch of his pants was bulging pleasingly under his fondling hand. He saw Rayne’s glance in that direction and said; “Be my guest, darlin’. You look like a lad who knows what to do with a nice big cock.”

“I won’t make you crash?” Rayne winked at him with a little smile.

“Don’t you worry about it, darlin’. I’m safe as houses, even with ‘your’ sexy mouth round my big end.”

The Vampire leaned into his lap, unzipping his pants so that his big brown tool jumped out at once. He stroked it appreciatively, up and down for a few moments then began to kiss it with soft, moist lips, running his small, rough tongue under the leaking head, lapping delicately at his slit. The car was an automatic so his chauffeur did not have to worry about gear changes. He simply drove around the edges of the city, up and down the Mancunian Way, as Rayne licked, sucked and swallowed his huge, salty cock. It was a delicious mouthful, about eight inches long and very thick and hard, with a large knot of a head. Rayne salivated in his lap as he nodded lower over that huge penis, his jaws stretched wide to accommodate it all.

“Good boy,” the driver breathed, stroking the Vampire’s silky black hair as Rayne swallowed that chunky bell end down his throat, breathing hard and fast though his nostrils. It was a huge piece of cock meat and its owner was humping it gently in and out of his mouth and throat now, his excitement increasing. He never took his eyes off the road but in a low growl he said; “Suck me off, baby. Rub my bollocks you little beauty!”

Rayne’s fingers wriggled into his tight jeans and squeezed his heavy testicles, which were heavy and hairy like dwarf coconuts. At once a hot glob of spunk oozed down his throat. His partner tasted sharp and spicy and Rayne could tell that there was plenty of semen in those huge, hot balls. As his tongue wormed up and down the guy’s shaft and his clever fingers massaged and fondled, the driver began to cum hard. Rayne’ head came up slightly so that he could fill his mouth with his lover’s hot, creamy ejaculate. He gulped it down greedily and to his delight the guy barely lost his hard on. Rayne just carried on sucking and pumping him for about fifteen more minutes during which time he got two more satisfying mouthfuls.

“Do you take it up the bum?” his companion asked at last when Rayne sat up, wiping his mouth on the back of one hand.

“Is that what you want?” Rayne asked him a little warily.

“If you’re up for it, I am,” the older man grinned at him eagerly.

Rayne turned his head, staring quietly out at the virtually empty road in front of them. They had almost come around in a loop whilst he had his face buried in the man’s lap and the car was travelling more slowly now, on the outskirts of Salford. If he asked the guy to stop and let him get out he wondered if he would be humoured.

“Is it your first time?” his lift whispered, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

Rayne nodded once or twice without looking at him. It was what he wanted to be told. The Vampire understood that he was only attractive to certain men and those men generally liked their lovers young and easy to manipulate. The realisation had initially depressed him, now he barely gave it a thought. It was another tool in his arsenal, nothing more or less. He had died aged 29 but looked younger and generally his mates saw what they needed to see in any case. Jabez said that he did it to them without even knowing it, and was genuinely impressed by the talent his fledgling showed but Rayne just felt uneasy when he thought about it too much.

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t fancy it,” the driver said but his tone told another story. ‘He would go without, but it would be a terrible sacrifice’. ‘He had been aching for some bum. He desperately wanted it and the self-denial would hurt him more than a good fuck hurt his mate’. A hand rested on Rayne’s thigh, hot through the denim. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, you know. What’s your name, angel?”

He hesitated for a moment then whispered; “Rayne.”

Normally he never gave his real name to a punter or a casual fuck. He was not sure what made him do it this time. The fellow responded with a lascivious smile. He turned the car into a narrow backstreet off Liverpool Road and killed the engine and lights at once, unbuttoning his shirt with both hands.

“Rain? Like the weather?” The guy grinned at him and he nodded once.

“Well my little cock-sucking Raindrop, you can call me Daddy Big Balls,” he said with a too-friendly smile. “Get yourself stripped off and come sit on my big knob, you little beauty. Daddy’s gonna teach you how to fuck a man.” He was wriggling out of his shirt and jeans now, revealing a stocky, hirsute body with a hint of a belly and the remnants of an all-over summer tan. His pubes were a dark grey like the mat on his chest and stomach and he sprawled naked in the leather-covered driver’s seat watching as Rayne slowly took off his clothes. His hand pumped incessantly at his stiff cock and rubbed the constant spill of precum up and down the shaft making it hot and slippery. “Wow,” he panted as Rayne squirmed out of his pants and tee shirt, revealing his smooth, slender body. “You look like a sexy schoolboy with your clothes off. How old ‘are’ you?”

Rayne nearly said ‘forty one’ but bit his tongue. A life of prostituting himself had left him well prepared for questions like this. “How old do you ‘want’ me to be, Daddy?”

“Oh you’re a sharp one!” Daddy laughed, pulling Rayne into his lap eagerly and non-too gently. “You’re so silky though, just like a teenage boy. You must shave your bollocks every day to stay that smooth, yeah? Makes me feel like a young stud again.”

He pushed his hand between Rayne’s thighs and groped him until the vampire began to get an erection in his fondling hand. The other hand wormed down between his buttocks and he hissed through his teeth as he felt a rough finger probe and poke up into him, thrusting quickly until it was buried inside him to the third knuckle.

“Good boy,” Daddy panted excitedly. “Not ‘too’ tight, but snug enough to be satisfying. We don’t want to hurt our little angel on his first time riding his Daddy’s big cock.” He kissed Rayne’s hair almost affectionately. “Get up here and straddle Daddy now, you little beauty. Hold onto the steering wheel good and tight, baby.”

Rayne closed his eyes as he bent forward over the wheel, his slim legs parted astride his mate’s hairy thighs. Those callused fingers gripped his buttocks roughly and parted them. He felt the man spit on him then Daddy’s hot wet tongue squirmed up and down his exposed and vulnerable crack, licking and teasing him. The man took his time kissing and tonguing Rayne’s arse, blowing on his ring until it twitched and clenched with need. He spat again and rubbed the tip of his tongue on Rayne’s spincter, probing steadily until it slipped inside and he was able to lick out his lover’s hole.

The vampire groaned huskily as he was reamed. One, then two fingers pushed into him, thrusting in and out until his own cock was dribbling. He writhed against the steering wheel with a little whimper of pleasure.

“Mmmhhhh. Does my horny angel like Daddy’s mouth and fingers on his sexy bum hole?” the mortal grunted excitedly. “Does it feel good, baby?”

“Uh-huh!” Rayne nodded breathlessly.

“You’re such a sweet, saucy little boy,” his companion panted, groping him all over as Rayne knelt astride him. “Daddy can’t hold back much longer, angel. He needs to take his baby’s anal cherry. Kneel back and ride your Daddy’s cock, baby.”

Rayne arched his spine and rocked his slim hips back and forth with the predator’s long, hot penis between his thighs. He could feel the wet, glossy head nudging between his cheeks and reached back to finger himself with some of Daddy’s pre-cum. That clearly excited his mate. The other man’s hands were hot on his skinny hips as he urged Rayne to sit down a little harder on his erect cock. The Vampire rotated his pelvis steadily until he felt the man’s big bell-end ease into position against his ring, then began to circle more urgently, pressing down harder with each rotation of his hips until his mate’s pulsing cap popped into his snug hole. He cried out breathlessly as he felt it enter him. His partner’s fingers tightened on his buttocks, spreading him roughly, spitting again and pushing Rayne down onto his saliva-coated erection.

“That’s it!” he huffed excitedly. “That’s the way my dirty little angel. Sit down hard on Daddy’s nice big cock. Let it slide all the way up inside your tight virgin arse, my pretty baby. Daddy loves his little boy so much for this! Come on my little Raindrop, ride your Daddy’s big dick nice and hard now. Take it all the way up your tight arse, baby. Daddy wants to see his cock pumping in and out of his baby’s little pink hole!”

Rayne obeyed the urging of his hands and at once he began to rock himself more vigorously, easing up and down on that thick, throbbing tool, kneeling forward with his legs spread wide so that his partner could see every inch sliding in and out of him. He gripped the steering wheel tightly in both hands and Daddy began to hump him rapidly, fucking that fabulous big cock deeper into his arsehole, pounding him faster and harder.

“Sit down on my big balls, angel. Come on, push your sexy bum right down on my knackers, you gorgeous little saucepot. Can you feel my hot bollocks between your sweet cheeks?” his mate grunted.

Rayne nodded his head. He began to cry out with every thrust. The fat, firm knot of his fuck-mate’s cock head surged deeper each time until he could feel it pressing on that sweet, hot, sensitive spot inside him. It felt incredible. He began to understand how reliant he had become in such a short time on Kevan’s fabulously big penis. Rayne wondered when he had begun to crave sex as a comforter and he suddenly missed Kev’s dumb sense of humour and his insatiable libido. He urged himself up and down more energetically on Daddy’s throbbing dick and cried out with disappointment as the man roared and squirted inside him, filling his bowels with cum.

I tried to sort this out. Finally I said, “All I can think of is Jell-O.”

Trent laughed then, so loud that Gary opened his eyes and peered up at us, smiling sleepily.

“Jell-O, then,” said Trent. “If that’s what it takes. Jell-O and Tupperware and baby carrots and– Christ, I almost forgot. Slaveboy, fetch the ones we brought that escaped the damage. I don’t want to waste them.”

Gary slid from the sofa; a minute later he was back with the box of Ho Ho’s in hand. I looked from the box to Trent.

“You fucking hypocrite,” I said slowly.

Trent smiled. He opened the box. “Care for one?”

–

“Copyright (c) 2005 DuskPeterson. All rights reserved. Please do not reprint, post, or e-mail except with permission

JELL-O® is a registered trademark of KF Holdings. Ho Ho® is a registered trademark of Interstate Bakeries Corporation. Tupperware® is a registered trademark of Tupperware Worldwide. Betty Crocker® is a registered trademark of General Mills, Inc. Publication of these trademarks is not authorized by, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. The author has seventy-five dollars in the bank, so suing won’t get you anywhere.”

He whispers a playful suggestion in my ear. Three little words, teasing, but serious. We’ve talked about this before in an almost joking way, but something told me at the time that his interest was a bit more than casual. ” Pee on me.”

My body goes stiff - but it isn’t from shock or disgust. It’s from excitement. The idea of doing this taboo, intimate thing with him makes me weak. He’s grinning when I glance over my shoulder at him but I can tell my reaction has made him nervous. He starts to backtrack, laugh it off, say I don’t have to. But I quickly shake my head and tell him I want to. The quiver in my voice and the stiffening in my cock betray my excitement.

Watching him slide down the tile wall, my knees start to shake so badly I’m momentarily afraid of falling. He sinks all the way to the floor, to his knees, back against the tiles, waiting. I’ve peed on people once or twice before but it never excited me like this. I always thought it was sort of stupid, but I did it because they seemed to like it. His entirely unexpected request sends chills down my spine, as does looking down at him on the shower floor with his eyes closed, heedless of the water from the shower head splattering his face.

My cock is hard enough that getting started isn’t easy; it takes a second, but the flow finally begins. He doesn’t open his eyes but I see his muscles tense as the warm flood of piss washes over his chest, mixing with the water and swirling down the drain. He’s smiling. The piss doesn’t really turn me on, but his submission does. Fuck. I never want to let him leave.

Our eyes say what our mouths can’t.

I pull him up. I take his arms and turn him around, pressing him face-first to the tiles. His skin is slippery wet, luscious. Ahh. Shower sex. The water pours over us in an endless hot torrent as I slip to my own knees, tongue trailing down his spine, over his boyish ass. All his muscles so defined, tense, twitching as I probe his crack with my tongue, slicking back the fine dark hairs to find his hole.

“Oh God.”

Shaking, he whimpers as my hands gently spread his cheeks wide. I catch my breath as his tight pink hole is exposed. It flexes eagerly. Slowly I circle it with my tongue. It is so sweet and welcoming- the water trickles down his crack, making it easy for my tongue to part it and slide in. He lets out a desperate sound that echoes in the big tiled shower. He presses back against my face and my hands holding his ass spread as I feel the tight ring open for my tongue. I know nobody has ever rimmed him before. I’m the first to ever be near his ass, let alone be in it. That turns me on so much that even though I already came less than thirty minutes ago, I am already rock hard, ready. I want to fuck him so hard he sees stars, so hard he feels me inside him all the way back to England.

A wail of protest leaves his throat when I pull back. I growl at him to come on. Right now. There is no shred of resistance left in him as he obeys and follows me back to the bed. We’ve talked online about this moment so many times: the moment where I take his virginity. He’s shaking now as I push him down into the pillows. I grab the lube and he lifts his legs to his chest and tenses, expecting me to shove it in. But with only one night, I want to do it all. I want to love every part of him.

In great detail I’ve described what I’ll do to him. Fuck his mouth with my tongue. Nibble on earlobes, nipples, belly button, inner thighs. Toes even. I nuzzle his pubic hair and taste his sweet cock, lick his lightly furred balls until he gasps with pleasure. Down his front, then roll him over again and all the way up the back, massaging away the last bits of his tension. He melts in my hands until he’s so limp and unresisting, so relaxed and wanting, that I own him completely.

“Mine, mine, mine.”

My hands firmly push his thighs apart. The sweetness of his hole makes me tremble all over. I feel the heat of his skin as I gently lube him up, slipping one finger into his twitching passage. God. So smooth and tight. My second finger slides in easily. I grin to myself because he’s been practicing with his dildo like a good boy. Wordless moans escape him as I add a third finger. I feel the tight ring of his sphincter stretch to accommodate me. Feeling his asshole flex around my fingers almost does me in. I’m such a sucker for that feeling, that moment of total acceptance. I groan. Fuck, I can’t wait…

After getting the condom lubed up I drape my body over his back. Face to face, from behind, doggie style, upside down and backwards - I want to do it all, but this will be easiest for him, the first time. I promised no pain. My slippery cock slides up and down through his crack, brushing his hole, making him twitch with delight; but it’s only when he begs for it that I position. I push.

Even through the condom I feel his anal ring give way as he takes me in. Instead of tensing with pain he lets out a low sound of pleasure. Relief at finally being filled up. My cock isn’t that long but it is thick and fulfilling. He sighs, a sound that affects me on a level that goes beyond sexual.

“I can’t have him, this is all we get…”

Oh shit, oh God, I’m lost. I can’t let him go, I can’t, not when it feels like this. I never dreamed it could be like this, never… This connection, this link we have, my secret dream I never imagined could be fulfilled…

It can’t. It can’t happen, I’ve got to let him leave. My life… But oh God…

Tears come to my eyes as I fuck him hard. I take him completely and totally without a shred of resistance. He bucks his hips back against me until I feel his balls slap mine. Jesus fucking Christ.

Lifting up I grab his hips and guide him to his knees. Sweat drips down my neck, mingling with his sweat that coats my skin. I fight to stop trembling, counting backward in my mind from one million to hold off my orgasm. I look down through glazed eyes at my cock sliding in and out of his ass - a gentle thrust with a hard, savage withdrawal. A little extra shunt at the very bottom. I love his back. A black tribal tattoo cuts across the very base of his spine. I love the way his dark hair curls on the back of his neck, soaked, as he arcs against me.

He is starting to shake all over and he’s about to sink to the bed, unable to stay on his knees, so I lock my arm around his chest and pull him against me. I close my eyes, smelling his sweat mixed with the hotel soap, burying my face in his shoulder. He glances over his shoulder at me; his eyes are glazed with sex, he looks so beautiful my heart dies a tiny death. Through the haze, the corners of his mouth curl and he smiles at me.

The feel of his damp skin pressed against me and his smile and his impossibly tight virgin passage taking me in all suddenly hit me like a bolt of lightning and the orgasm builds so quickly, shooting sparks through me, igniting. I bite down on his shoulder to muffle the cry that rises to my lips. I reach down and wrap my shaking hand around his cock, stroking it; and he throws himself back against me, gasping. The spark becomes a blaze and orgasm blinds me with its strike. My cock jerks back and forth in a shallow rhythm as in my hand, his cock tightens, then shoots over the bedspread below us, splattering the sheets while he calls out his joy.

We drop to the bed. Ditch the condom, wipe up a bit. Hooking my finger, I scoop up the drops of his cum sinking into the fabric of the bedspread. I look into his eyes as I taste it. Salty and a little bitter. He smiles, looking exhausted, sated, totally fucked. He’s six hours ahead of our time. He barely makes it to the pillow as I wrap my arms around him and he sleeps.

I reach over and flip off the light but then stare up at the ceiling, one arm wrapped around his sleeping shoulders, his head a trusting weight on my chest just over my heart. I’m a roll-over-and-sleep kind of guy, or at least a get-up-have-a-sandwich-watch-Letterman kind of guy. Not a cuddler. I’ve never wanted to cuddle before. I’m not a slut, but I’ve fucked a lot of guys; and I’ve felt intense sexual need before. But I’ve never felt this connection.

Before he came here we agreed.

This is it. No more. No more emails, no more phone calls. No more mutual jack-off sessions on instant messenger, no more intimate digital photos so hot the monitor smokes. We have to stop, I decreed some weeks ago. This one night is all we get, ever. He goes back to England without his virginity, meets some man, forgets me. I continue my solid, respectable domestic life with Steve.

“Why?”

That’s what Conor asks. Always reasonable and logical; that’s his nature. He’s calm and easy going to my relentless perfectionism. That’s my nature.

Why? The fucking reasons are many. I’m sick and tired of going over them.

Lying there, I stare up at the ceiling in the dim light that peeks through the drapes. Stare up at the light fixture. The reasons that seem so important in the light of day, the reasonable world when I’m in school or drilling on teeth or doing dishes, suddenly disintegrate in my mind.

Why?

My mind begins to work without my consent. I want to hold on to my illusions but some part of me persists in breaking everything down to its pure essence. Opening up.

“I can leave. Nothing is keeping me here. Steve will survive. My career will recover.”

I look down at the dark outline of Conor, breathing deep and even, his hand tucked between his cheek and my skin. My heart thumps. My life is imploding, silently, as I lie here.

Instead of fear that everything I’ve worked for could slip away, my dread of anything messy or overly emotion, I feel…

“Elated.”

It can happen. I’m not trapped. I can get out of the prison of my life. Maybe not tonight, not next week, but I can do it.

Conor writes poetry. It makes me shake all over sometimes, brings a lump in my throat I can’t swallow around. He writes other things too, short stories that are witty and frivolous, that make me impatient because I know he can do better. He worries over his poetry, he hesitates to even let me see it. Sometimes I can’t look at it because it shreds my heart into pieces like ribbons. His soul is a precious thing I want to protect.

I love him. It’s obvious. I haven’t let myself think the word until now; I could not feel real love for someone I’d never met in the flesh. But I was wrong; I’ve been in love with him for months. Meeting him in the flesh was only the culmination. And I never would have believed that love would break down the walls that trap me.

Morning. I awaken to the lights coming through the curtains, wrapped in pleasure. The sheets are back and his face is buried in my crotch, licking my balls. I groan playfully, pretending to protest; he woke me just a few hours ago to suck my cock and to be honest I can’t believe I can even get another erection this soon. My muscles ache, my face is scraped raw from his stubble, lips swollen and red with kisses like an assault. My dick is tired, but it is a good soldier, if weary. It manages the enthusiasm to throb happily as I ease myself carefully into his tight hole.

He winces slightly and I pause. He smiles and admits his bum is sore. I fucking love the way he calls his ass his “bum”. The last thing I want to do is hurt him, but he gasps out he can take it. He urges me deeper into him, harder, wrapping his legs around my waist. We cling together, memorizing ever detail. The joyous, explosive discovery of touching each other in the flesh at last, has become an almost desperate longing. Fate has decreed that we have to discover and lose each other in the same eighteen hour period. When we both finally finish, the orgasm is more an emotional climax than a physical one. We’re both so exhausted and sore and aching all over, we can’t manage much more; and all we can do is remain linked together, looking into each others’ eyes, until it becomes more than we can stand.

While we’re slowly soaping each other in the shower, relaxing our aching muscles under water that is almost too hot to bear, my cell phone rings. We both hear it but I don’t react. It’s only after we get out and wrap up in towels that I pick it up and glance at the missed calls.

Conor’s sharp eyes pierce me like arrows, recognizing the enormous guilt that must be obvious on my face. “It’s him, isn’t it.”

I glance away, unable to look at him. We’ve promised not to mention his name. I feel like a piece of shit. You deserve better than this, you deserve everything. My guilt comes not from cheating on my loyal partner of six years. I feel unfaithful to Conor. Any time he’s ever talked about someone he’s dating or is interested in, I can barely stand the jealousy that freezes my blood. I know exactly what kind of asshole that makes me and even as I feel the icy shards in my veins, the shame overwhelms me.

We’ve agreed. We aren’t saying goodbye. We aren’t going e-mail each other anymore. We barely look at each other as we get dressed. It’s almost time for me to go; I have to get home, he has to check out, he has to go to the airport. We aren’t saying goodbye, we can’t say much of anything.

I was such a fool to think one night could ever be enough.

I pick up my keys, slide them into my jacket pocket. He’s over dropping things into his suitcase on the other side of the room. I walk over to him and stand behind him until he looks up; he turns to me and he tries to smile, say something to ease the moment, but he can’t. Neither can I.

All I can do is wrap him in my arms, burying my face in his neck. This was supposed to be it; we were supposed to be out of each others’ systems now. But Conor is in me completely now. He has invaded my soul and no amount of nights together will get him out.

With a minimum of words, I leave. It’s hard, but I can do it. This really isn’t goodbye. There was no hope before; I was locked into my life and I had no real reason to even try to get out. Now things are different. Despite my sadness, there is a purpose to my step, something new. I have a lot of things to plan if I’m going to England.

Before Conor is even on the plane, I’m at home in my office, writing him an e-mail. As he flies through the air toward England, I hit send. My message will be waiting for him.

**

“This story is a complete work of fiction. All of the characters and events are made up and bear no resemblance to reality.

Thanks T and the others who inspired and encouraged this work.”

Looking at himself again in the full length mirror, Byron saw what he had hoped for. The black corset had sucked in his waist, giving him an hourglass figure. Smiling to himself, Byron reveled in the tight encasing feeling. It felt as though he was already in Jared”s thick strong arms. Attaching the corset to his stockings, Byron admired his shapely legs. He felt so naughty dressing up like this, knowing that in a couple of hours he would be getting his brains fucked out.

Reaching into a drawer from his second and most important dresser, the one with all of his sexy women”s clothing, Byron pulled out a tiny black thong. He pulled it up his legs and tucking his cock and balls between his legs once more admired himself. The woman in the mirror was stunningly beautiful.

Byron went over to his closet and took out a micro-mini skirt. Once it was on, it barely went down past the top of his stockings. If Byron wasn”t very conscious of the fact he would expose himself to anyone looking. He planned on using that to his best advantage today. Pulling on a white blouse, Byron began to pack a suitcase when the phone rang.

The call display told him that it was his step-brother and when he answered it, Jared told him to be downstairs in ten minutes.

Hurriedly packing first one then two suitcases with the sexiest female clothes he owned, Byron felt his pulse pick up. He was mere minutes away from being with Jared again. With both suitcases in hand, Byron stopped at the front door to put on a pair of six inch stiletto heels. He locked his door behind him and as he walked by the neighbors door, it opened and she came out whistling.

“Go get him girlfriend!” she laughed. Blowing him a kiss and winking seductively, she turned around and walked back into her apartment.

Byron hurried along to the elevator, never missing a step. Some of his female friends had marveled at his skill in high heels, he just told them it was from practice. In truth, Byron felt very comfortable in the heels, almost as if he had been born in the wrong body. He sometimes thought that maybe he should have been a woman, and that was why he enjoyed being penetrated so much.

The elevator seemed to take forever to reach the ground floor and Byron rushed across the lobby. A man waiting for the elevator did a double take as Byron walked by, staring at his tight stocking clad legs and firm ass wistfully.

Byron noticed Jared in his truck out front and paid little attention to anything else as he made for the vehicle. A strong hand grabbed his arm and swung Byron around about halfway from the curb. Ready to scream at the offender, Byron”s words stuck in his throat as he looked into the blue eyes of Duane.

“Where do you think you are going bitch?”

Duane”s eyes were wild with jealousy. He took in the way Byron was dressed in a quick glance and looked back into Byron”s wide eyes.

Please, thought Byron, go away. Not now, I”m so close.

All he could do was stand there with big eyes and his jaw hanging slack. Duane lifted a thick arm as though to smack Byron when a big hand attached to an equally thick arm grabbed hold of his wrist. Duane”s body shook as though he had tried to pull himself away from this new person, but his arm didn”t move an inch.

“Let him go.”

Though spoken in a quiet calm voice, Jared”s words seem to shock Byron out of his trance and had the same effect as slapping Duane in his handsome face.

“Who the fuck are you?” Duane”s face twisted in rage as Jared let his arm go.

“I”m his date for the night. Now be a gentleman and leave before you make a scene.”

Never too much of a conversationalist to being with, Duane just snarled as he swung a meaty fist at Jared”s face. Just before it connected, Jared sidestepped the punch and grabbed Duane”s wrist in his right arm. With his left hand on the back of Duane”s head, he pulled it along with his body. Duane reacted quickly and pulled his weight back, doing exactly what Jared wanted. Stepping into Duane, Jared used his own momentum against him. His right arm was a blur as it caught Duane in the throat, and his left hand held Duane”s body by the small of his back. Throwing all of his considerable weight downward, Jared transferred his momentum into Duane. In the blink of an eye, Duane had done a complete flip, landing heavily on the ground. Jared stood back as his foe lay on the ground moaning.

Jared opened the door and holding out his hand for Byron to take, commented on how beautiful he looked. Byron was shocked at the speed with his step-brother had dealt with his soon to be ex. Smiling shakily, Byron took the offered hand and got into the truck. Jared closed the door and was walking around the passenger side of the truck to the front when he heard a blood-curdling scream. Jared spun and snapped out a fist just seconds before Duane would have hit him in a tackle. The whole thing seemed to be slow motion to Byron.

At first the punch didn”t seem like it would make it in time. Hundredths of seconds seemed to take years as Jared turned in to his attacker at glacial speed. Then Byron heard the loud smack. It sounded like a baseball bat hitting a watermelon. Duane was rocked backwards as his nose exploded in a spray of blood. Three drops hit the windshield in front of Byron. Watching the large man fall, Byron knew he was unconscious before he hit the ground. Duane made no attempt to stop his fall. His head bounced of the pavement with a dull thud. Jared was on top of him instantly, rolling the unconscious man to his stomach.

Wasting no more time on Duane, Jared got into the truck and drove away. Byron turned around in time to see a young man walk over to his former lover and looking around, quickly reach down to steal his wallet.

* ****

They drove north of Vancouver for two and a half hours before Jared turned his pickup onto a dirt road. Byron hadn”t talked much on the drive north, worried that he was too excited to put his thoughts into words without sounding like a babbling fool. He had been thrilled that Jared and Duane had fought over him. He was glad that his step-brother had won of course, but to have the both of them fight for the right to lay claim made him feel almost… feminine. Like something out of the movies, Jared had come and rescued him from the villain.

Byron had snuggled close to his savior for the ride without hearing a single objection from Jared. His step-brother had even put an arm around him once they reached highway speed.. Right then Byron had wished he had tried to get together with Jared sooner. He had wasted so many years wishing for something when all he had to do was try. Jared had come to him after all that wasted time, and he had shown Byron just how much of a waste it truly was.

Flying high on his feelings, Byron noticed that some time ago that it had gotten dark. Night had fallen on their drive and he was so caught up in his memories that he hadn”t even noticed. Looking at the clock on the stereo Byron saw that they had been driving for nearly four hours.

Just about to ask how much longer they were going to be, Byron saw trees spread out. They stopped in a clearing several hundred yards wide. A cabin had been built in the center of it. It looked newly built. Jared pulled in to a driveway that led up to the small cabin.

Shutting off the engine, Jared leaned over and gave Byron a deep passionate kiss. Their tongues entwined as they shared the embrace. Wordlessly, Jared broke the kiss and opened his door. Byron followed him out of the drivers side door and Jared grabbed his suitcases from the back of the truck.

Inside the cabin was simple but well designed. A small kitchen was to the immediate left and to the right held a cozy living room. Against the wall was a large fireplace built from carved stone, obviously to be the centerpiece. A large comfortable looking couch stretched out in front of it. With no electricity, there were no lights other than the battery powered lamp that Jared had switched on when he came in.

A small room at the back of the cabin seemed to Byron to be the bedroom. As Byron looked around, Jared lit the fireplace and soon a warm glow replaced the harsh lamp. Jared grabbed a bottle from a bucket of ice that rested on the kitchen table and brought it, along with two glasses, to the livingroom.

Byron sat down on the couch beside Jared as he opened the bottle of champaign. Pouring two glasses, Jared handed on to Byron.

“To the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes upon.”

Byron was nearly brought to tears by the toast. Choking them back, he drank to the toast. Regaining his voice, Byron started asking his questions.

“Why are we up here?”

Jared smiled. “Well, remember when I asked you if you would help me perform the ceremony?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it needs to be done in the open. Under tomorrow night”s full moon. Do you know much about magic?”

Byron laughed, sure that Jared was making fun of him. “Sure, like rabbits from a hat?”

The look that Jared gave Byron made him wish he had kept his mouth shut. Byron was sure that he had ruined everything.

“No, I don”t mean the cheap theatrics. I mean real magic. Love is real, and it has magical powers. It can bind together two souls, make them one.”

The reverent way Jared spoke gave Byron pause. Seeing that his step-brother was going to remain silent, Jared continued.

“There is magic in sex as well. Every orgasm has untold power behind it. Bind that with love and the power is limitless. The most loving thing one can do for another is to give themselves completely over to the one they love. It gives that person such power that nearly anything is possible.”

Byron had completely lost Jared”s track, but kept quiet, listening to his impassioned voice.

“I have brought you here to perform a magical ceremony with me. Think of it as my religion”s version of marriage. Under the full moon I will ask you if you are willing to give yourself over to me completely. Mind, body and soul. For the ceremony to work, you will have to mean it. In here. Inside your heart. It will bind us together for all eternity.”

This time Byron couldn”t choke back the tears, and he didn”t even try. Jared leaned over and wiped the wet streaks from his step-brother”s face. After all of his years of wait, Byron”s greatest dreams were about to come true. Byron knew that in his heart, he had always belonged to Jared. Now his step-brother was going to perform a ceremony in his own religion to recognize the fact.

Jared continued after wiping away the tears of joy.

“I won”t lie to you though Byron. By giving yourself to me this way, joined by magic, you will have to obey me. And I have no intentions of having a monogamous relationship. I need women in their own special way. But you will be first and foremost among all my other lovers. Will you accept my proposal?”

Byron smiled at his step-brother. He didn”t mind sharing Jared”s flesh with others. Monogamy had never been a part of his lifestyle anyway. All he wanted was Jared. Any way he could have him was good enough. Byron was even willing to go so far as to help him pick up women. Just as long as he could feel Jared inside of him, feel him sleeping next to his body, feel his hard cock squirting its seed deep within his body.

“I do.”

Jared smiled at Byron and leaned over him. Their mouths met and locked, tongues intertwining. Byron spread his legs, opening his short skirt to Jared”s probing fingers. Sucking in his breath at the feel of the large fingers on his stocking clad thigh, Byron leaned back. Jared followed him down and the two lay together in their passion. Byron reached up and undid the buttons of Jared”s shirt, tugging it out of his jeans. As Jared kissed and bit his neck, Byron ran his hands over the thickly muscled back of his step-brother.

Unable to wait anymore, Byron lifted his legs and Jared lay between them. Licking his fingers to wet them, Byron used his saliva to wet Jared”s cock as it sprang free from his pants. With his skirt hiked up and his thong pulled to one side, Byron panted in lust. He felt Jared”s swollen head press up against him, then he was in. Jared”s thrusts were long and gentle at first, as the step-brothers kissed while joined. Slowly his pace increased. Breaking their kiss, Jared held his body up on the couch as he started to pound Byron. For his part, Byron pulled his legs closer to his body and spread them wider. With each thrust from his step-brother, Byron”s cock wagged in his own face. Bent over double like that, he could nearly suck his own seven inch cock.

Lost in the pleasant burning sensation of the thick cock inside of him, Byron could feel his orgasm approaching. As Jared began to thrust as deep and as hard as possible, Byron lost it. His cock sprayed thick white cum all over his own face. The first spurt hit his forehead and ran down his nose. The second and third got in his hair and on his cheek. Another spurt flew into his open mouth, which set him off once again. By the time Jared grunted and buried himself completely inside of his step-brother”s asshole, Byron”s face was a thick sticky mess. Jared stayed inside of Byron while the latter, staring Jared in the eyes, used his fingers to spoon the sperm from his face into his mouth.

With his large hands on Byron”s legs behind his knees, Jared slowly pulled himself out. Byron”s asshole stayed open for a minute and some cum leaked slowly down his crack. With a seductive smile, Byron reached between his legs and scooping it up, he sucked it from his fingers. Jared grinned at Byron and the two collapsed together in exhaustion.

* ****

The next day went by quickly for both men. Byron felt Jared get up early but other than to say goodbye he didn”t leave the bed. His watch told him that it was one in the afternoon when he finally came out of bed. Knowing that they were hours from the nearest soul, Byron wandered around the small cabin naked. A cooler supplied him with some milk for a small bowl of cereal. Once finished his breakfast, Byron explored the house.

He found a couple of framed pictures of himself around the cabin, and one in particular stood out. In it Byron was marching in the annual gay pride parade in Vancouver. He was dressed to the nines as a woman. How his step-brother had gotten a hold of this picture was beyond Byron”s thinking.

In it he was walking down the street dressed in his sexiest women”s lingerie. White silk stockings were held up by a white garter, over top of this were a pair of sheer white thongs. A white laced bra was stuffed with a couple pairs of socks. A pair of fingerless lace gloves covered both forearms up to his elbows. Over all this he wore a sheer white nightgown. His hair was done in two long braids down each side and his make-up was perfect. On his feet were a pair of six inch stiletto heels. He had looked so sexy that he had gotten laid three times that day.

Byron had been drunk when he had made a dare with a friend of his, and had dressed up as a result of the dare. That someone had taken his picture, and that his step-brother had gotten his hands on it amazed Byron. He had no idea how Jared had acquired the picture, but he intended to find out.

Spending the rest of the day lounging about, Byron quickly became bored. He started to fantasize about his upcoming wedding night. As he had no idea about anything of his step-brother”s religion he instead focused his energy on the wedding night sex. In his fantasies, he and Jared were bound together in their flesh, their souls becoming one as they coupled. The sex was incredible and full of joy and ecstacy and love. Byron knew that he would spend the night doing anything asked of him, anything to please Jared.

Before he knew it, the sky had started to get dark. Jared came in the small cabin and smiled at Byron.

“You should have a shower, make sure you are nice and clean for tonight. Let me show you where you can clean up.”

Byron put on a housecoat and grabbed a towel and small bag before he followed Jared out the door. He led the way down a path that was behind the house that led into the trees. A couple of minutes later Byron saw the “bathroom”. A shower head was attached to a tree, the floor of the “shower” was some cunningly cut smooth stones that allowed the water to run away while keeping the dirt from someone”s feet. About six feet away from this was a big metal cylinder that must have reached a good fifteen feet in the air. Byron could smell smoke and saw that the bottom of the cylinder had a small door in it with a faint glow coming from inside.

“The water is the perfect temperature right now. I had a shower earlier. I”ll leave the lamp for you. When you have finished, go back to the house and put on something to wear for tonight”s ceremony. I”ll be by at eleven o”clock to get you.”

Without another word Jared left. Byron took off his robe and stepped onto the rocks. They were wet and cold on his feet. He shivered in the light breeze and reached up to undo the clamp. The warm water felt delicious to Byron as it ran over his skin. Despite how much he loved the feeling of it, Byron was glad to wash off his step-brother”s cum. He didn”t feel so stiff anymore. There was a bar of soap in a small carved out part of the tree, and Byron lathered it up. As he washed Byron listened to the sounds around him.

It seemed so quiet, compared to Vancouver. All he could hear was the light breeze through the leaves of the trees, the occasional snap from the fire in the metallic water heater and the splashing of the running water. It felt strange to be showering in the open like this, exposed to anyone who might happen by. Byron started to get aroused by the thought. Maybe his step-brother was in the bushes watching him.

Byron laughed out loud, startling himself. Grinning at his own foolishness, Byron reached into his bag and brought out his enema. He wanted to make sure he was really clean for tonight.

* *****

The two brothers stood naked in a clearing about twenty feet across. In the center of it was a big stone table about five feet long and four feet wide. It was just over three feet high and looked to be hastily carved. The top of it was smooth though. As Byron looked at it, he could find no flaws at all. An open book rested on the top, written in a language Byron had never seen before. Jared had no trouble with it though. The strange words rolled easily from his tongue. Other than the book, the top of the stone table was bare except for two items. The first was a leather collar with metallic studs the length of it. The second was a golden chalice. It was simply made, without the usual jewels or gems, and appeared to have been crafted by novice hands. That didn”t matter though. What was inside of it was what counted. It contained a dark liquid that Jared had used on Byron”s naked skin. Byron had been painted with strange symbols all over his body using the liquid made from his blood, Jared”s blood and a few other items he hadn”t recognized. Even though he knew what part of it was made from, the paint hadn”t disgusted Byron at all. In fact, he had found the hint of sweetness in the smell of it slightly intoxicating.

As he had been prepared in the hour before the full moon was at its height in the sky, Byron knew exactly what was required of him. He stood naked waiting for the signal that he was to begin to dress. The words Jared was speaking started to make Byron feel invigorated and docile all at once. He started to believe that maybe the magic was real after all. It didn”t matter to Byron though. All he wanted was Jared. He didn”t feel that he needed a magical ceremony to do as Jared wanted, but if it made his step-brother happy, then Byron was more than willing.

Jared made the pre-arraigned signal and Byron began to dress. First he rolled the white silk stockings up each of his smooth legs. He was careful not to pull as he had been warned not to smudge any of the paint. Smiling when he was finished, Byron looked to Jared who nodded. He had managed to get them on without problem.