Sex in the Sky

“If you’re a lifestyle critic, don’t pester me! This is fictional and fantasy engaged in by consenting adults. Perhaps this should be under novellas, or novels…it’s long. It’s also my first attempt at writing gay or bisexual adventures, my first material was MMF and the MM didn’t connect . I’ve gleaned some ideas from all the stories I’ve viewed here on Literotica. I hope you enjoy it, and I’m open to suggestions for improvement!”

*

“Shit!” was all I could come up with.

Here it was the end of the friggin’ night and I had to go take another stupid report for a lost or stolen ID. That’s what junior guys are for, dammit! I quickly realized though that if anyone else were available they’d not be sending me because, on top of the fact I was top guy (oldest prick) on our crew, I also garnered top pay for OT when I get stuck, and giving me OT would be avoided if at all possible, so I knew everyone else had to be tied-up and I just sucked it up and headed to the address they gave me in the radio dispatch. The address sounded vaguely familiar too.

As soon as I pulled up to the home in the older residential area of the main part of town I remembered being here before for another job where someone stole the guy’s entire keg bar from his backyard. That was a few years ago now, but I remembered it because of the thing taken — an entire bar — and because the house was home to some gay guys who were also into making gay male porn movies, some right on this property. Oh yeah, I’d checked the books to see if that was a violation, but when our local codes were written by Moses, it wasn’t a breach to film guys suckin’ and fuckin’ one another on private property in town. Long as no one saw anything, bitched, or was offended, qué çera, çera.

The rain was pelting down now, it was one of those crummy mid-April spring early, early mornings, and it was chilly enough for me to see my breath. I pulled up and called the dispatch center to tell them I was stepping out. As if listening for my radio call, the gate light came on brightly and the gate opened to reveal a shadow standing in the opening, trash can lid overhead defending against the deluge, and waving its arm as if directing traffic, but directing me to hurry and follow this shadow man.

I did as beckoned and tailed the guy up the alley alongside the house, after I secured the gate behind me of course. The gate was in an eight-foot high fence that surrounded the property of the old brick colonial. The opening was right off the driveway and had the mailboxes for the place, and the house number, affixed next to the gate. As we jogged into the back yard I observed the expanse of the place, a huge in-ground swimming pool, cabana, and entertainment area to the right, from whence, if I recollected rightly, had been swiped the keg bar; and a sort of Japanese garden complete with bridge to the left. We made the left and went over the bridge toward what appeared to be the old garage at the rear of the property. Quite a spread, palm trees and lighting and various sculptures, gazebos and all. For a standard lot, this place was crammed full like Disneyworld. We approached the door of the garage and a sensor lamp illuminated our path. My guide flung open the door and indicated I should enter past him, and as I did I heard him toss down the garbage can lid he’d been using as an umbrella, then enter and shut the door with a thump.

The interior of the place was dimly lit from someplace around the bend to the left in another room. Instead of finding myself in an open garage I found it was a conversion into living space…quite well done actually. My companion brushed by me and entered deeper into the glow and suddenly the place was awash in blinding light that pained my eyes, which had been in darkness these past eight hours on night patrol.

Gradually, my eyes adapted to the lighting and I began to be able to see details. The guy had vanished again. I looked around at the decor of the place and noted it was mostly contemporary, Ikea-type stuff. Nice reproductions of European artists were tastefully hung about on the walls. The place was sparsely furnished; after all it was an old one-car garage. There was a full bed with some sort of overhead cabinetry for storage, a combination dresser, computer workstation, and work area had been built into one long side of the place. A plush leather chair and couch with a heavy wood table stood at what used to be the rear of the garage on the short wall, and there was a severely bright hanging lamp dangling from what looked like anchor chain over the table. I heard a rustle behind me and the mystery fellow appeared from around the bed and cabinet setup, apparently from a bathroom since he was now toweling his blonde hair vigorously as he approached me. He was now also shirtless. Beyond him I could observe a kitchenette setup with sink, stove, refrigerator and cabinets and a little breakfast alcove set. I couldn’t see the bath; it apparently occupied space alongside the bed, which is why there was sort of a hallway entry from the outside.

The blonde tossed the towel onto the bed and extended his right hand, “I’m Doug, I called about my ID being lost or stolen.”

“Officer Clay,” I replied, as i shook the guy’s hand.

He was about my height, six-two or so, 25-28 years of age, medium build but toned, tousled blond hair, which I now noted was actually highlighted brown hair, and he had pierced earrings in his right ear and bright blue eyes to match his bright white smile. There was a tattoo of some combined letters on his left front shoulder area as well, perhaps Asian letters, but I couldn’t discern.

“I’m really, really sorry for having to call you out in shit weather like this for a dumb thing like a lost ID, but I have a plane to catch later this evening and without ID I can’t board. They told me call the cops and file a report and try to get some new ID. But it’s a weekend! How can I get ID on a weekend from anywhere?” he moaned.

I got my pad ready and began to copy down all the information required to file the report for Doug. He was plainly irritated at himself for misplacing his wallet and ID’s, and depressed over the fact he might not make his flight because with the new standards in force after 9-11, entering aircraft without the correct paper and ID is impossible, even with a boarding pass, and though this kid was obviously no Middle-Eastern terrorist. I felt bad for him, he was just stuck, and I thought of my own kid who was about the same age as Doug.

“Listen,” I said. “I’m going off shift in about ten minutes. When I get in I’ll write this up and print a copy for you and bring it over on my way home. I go by here anyhow. With the report, the authorities in the airport can confirm who you are and also confirm the report by calling the station.” I dug in my pocket. “Here, this is my card, keep it with you and present it with the report and with any luck the guys at the gate in the airport will let you pass and board.”

“You’d do that for me?” he inquired, almost incredulous.

“I have a kid about your age and if he were in a similar bind I’d hope one of my buddies in arms would help him out. It’s no big deal, really; just writing a short report with all your particulars and identifiers and printing it so you can show it, instead of waiting ’til Monday to get a copy.”

Doug was ecstatic.

“Thanks!” he said, and he jumped up from the chair next to the sun-like lamp and put a bear hug on me.

I was a bit shocked, but understood Doug’s elation because of his relief.

“No problem,” I said.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Officer. I got a little carried-away because you made my night!”

“Don’t apologize, I understand,” I answered. “I’ll be back in about an hour or so, I have to stow the car and my gear, write this up, and then get back over here. You be up?”

Doug’s eyes were wide and shining, “Absolutely! Thank you so much! I’ll put on some coffee for when you get back.”

“Great,” I said, “I could use that with this damned weather we’re having.”

I turned to leave and Doug went to show me the way.

“Don’t bother, I’ll find my way back to the car. I’m dressed for this shit, you’re not.” I was being paternal again.

“Okay,” Doug said. “When you get back ring the bell under the mailbox to the left and I’ll buzz the gate release and you can get back in, okay?”

“Fine by me, Doug. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

I left the little apartment and stepped back out into the rain that was now pouring down at the rate of about an inch an hour. Even though I hurried, I still got damp en route to the car; these raincoats we’re issued suck!

About forty-five minutes later I was heading back to Doug’s home with the freshly written and printed theft report, sealed in a Ziplock against the elements, for him. The raw night and damp uniform was making that promised coffee sound really good.

Once back at the old colonial house, I located a parking space for my personal vehicle as close to the house as possible and then got out, popped open my Mary Poppins and Olympic-walked to the gate and rang the buzzer as directed by Doug earlier. There was the immediate answering buzz and I opened the gate and dashed in, crashing the umbrella into the wall of the house as I went, and of course letting water pour down on me in my light jacket, soaking me. I nearly slipped and fell into the little moat under the bridge, but managed to arrive at the door to Doug’s quarters without further mishap. This Good Samaritan stuff always costs!

Doug opened the door as I arrived at the threshold and I stepped into his home, dripping water everywhere on the entry mat, and splattering the wall with it as I closed my umbrella.

“Holy shit is it pouring out there!” I announced.

“Holy shit indeed,” Doug replied. “You’re absolutely drenched! Give me your umbrella and jacket, Officer Clay.”

“It’s Paul, ” I said, “Paul Clay…you can call me Paul, I’m off the clock,” I said as I peeled off my jacket.

“Here’s the report,” I said, offering Doug the plastic envelope.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, Paul,” Doug groaned. “You got into a mess just trying to help me out past what was expected of you.”

“Hey, proud to serve, Doug. No problem,” I fibbed.

“This isn’t going to help,” Doug said, walking away from me quickly, arm outstretched, and dangling my gushing jacket as he headed toward the kitchen or bathroom from the hall.

“I’m going to get you one of my guest robes,” I heard Doug say, the echo revealing his location as most likely the bathroom.

“You’re going to have to get out of all those wet things and put the robe on and I can put the stuff in my dryer to make it wearable again, before you have pneumonia.”

The smell of fresh brewed coffee was now prevalent in the air and my mouth fairly watered for it. I was chilled to the bone now, and coffee and dry duds sounded like a grand idea.

Doug reappeared. “Come with me to the bathroom and you can get all that wet stuff off and give it to me. I put the robe on the hook on the back of the door for you, and there’s a pair of flip-flops you can put on too,” he said, sounding like a mom.

I trailed Doug into the home and to the bathroom, which turned out to be huge, about one third the size of the whole place, with Jacuzzi tub, separate shower, double sink vanity, a big linen closet and built-in dresser. It was brightly lit with canned ceiling lights and ambiant recessed lighting around the room. The room was like a Roman bathhouse, all covered in ceramic tiles in various hues of green, some with Greek or Roman etchings in them, and with a Roman terrazo floor.

“This place is gorgeous,” I said, truly amazed.

“Thanks,” Doug said proudly, “I designed it myself. The shower doubles as a steam bath, and the Jacuzzi can seat three,” he said with a wide grin and a wink.

“Uh oh,” I thought to myself. “You dope! You forgot what this place is and who lives here! Doug is probably gay, dummy! Okay, be cool…I doubt he’s being anything but gallant here, returning the favor as I wound up drowned in order to deliver him his report.”

Doug showed me into the bathroom and then left, pulling the door closed as he did. I fought with my wet clothing for about ten minutes, trying to get out of them without tearing them or pulling off my skin. I was a mess. I pulled my money clip out and tossed it onto the vanity and water immediately pooled around it from the saturated bills. That’s why I don’t carry a wallet when I work…you lose the whole shebang and I’d be just like Doug here, no ID’s.

I stripped naked and squeezed as much water out of the clothes as I could and plopped them down on the tile floor near the door. Then I took a plush towel and dried myself off. The robe was on the door hook as promised, and it was an extra large and fit me fine. As soon as I put it on I was enveloped in its warm, comfortable terry material. I slipped my feet into the flip-flops and opened the door of the bath into the kitchenette.

Doug was at the counter pouring coffee for both of us, and the microwave oven was purring; he had something cooking. I stood in the doorway a moment and watched this healthy, young, studly kid, shirtless, barefoot, and wearing only satin lounge pants. He did indeed resemble my own estranged son in many ways. Music was emanating from the main room…jazz, my preferred genre! “How’d he guess,” I wondered. The aroma of bacon cooking now charged into my sinuses and I immediately felt famished.

“Damn that smells good!” I said, causing Doug to visibly jump, startled by my voice.

“I’m making some of those frozen bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits for us, to go with the coffee,” Doug explained. “They’re pretty good, I eat them a lot.”

“I do too,” I said. “Them at home, pork roll, egg, and cheese at the diner.”

“I figured since it’s pretty much breakfast time, well, maybe of couple hours early, I’d make us some and we can eat and talk,” Doug said, as he busily went on with his impromptu meal preps.

Five minutes later we were seated in his little breakfast nook with steaming cups of coffee and breakfast sandwiches before us, accompanied by orange juice. I nearly inhaled the sandwich and sloshed it down with the OJ, and then, fully sated, I began to sip my coffee as Doug finished his sandwich, carefully chewing each bite and sipping his orange juice after each nibble.

“How long have you lived here?” I asked Doug.

“Sid let me move in here about eighteen months ago, after I began to work for him,” Doug replied.

Ah, that was it–Sid! The other guy’s name, the owner of the place I took the report on the stolen bar from. He of the gay movie making business, which was obviously quite lucrative, judging by the renovation of the house and the lavishness of the yard and grounds. Now I recalled. There’s another guy he lives with here too…Greg? Something like that. They’re a couple.

My curiosity was now hungry too.

“You work for Sid?” I queried.

“Well, work for him; work with him. I’m a gay porn actor, and Sid discovered me and got me into the business about two years ago. I’ve made five films with him already and I’m actually considered among the best in the trade,” Doug said proudly and matter-of-factly, with a huge smile. “That’s why I was hopping the plane later, to San Francisco. I have an appointment out there to make another movie for a friend of Sid’s that is a major porn producer on the West Coast, and I need to be there by Monday afternoon for the first shoot.”

I couldn’t explain it, but I got a hot flash as Doug’s bright smile lit the nook and we had solid eye contact.

“That’s why I’m so thankful that you went the extra mile for me to help out with my catching that flight, it means a possible shot at big time movie productions with national distribution, and of course more money!” Doug beamed.

“I’m glad that doing something so simple could help so much, Doug. No more thanks necessary, it’s my job,” I said.

“No, really,” Doug said, as he reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “I used to think all cops were assholes, especially to us in the gay and lesbian communities, but you’re not, and actually you are very nice,” Doug squeezed my hand.

I was suddenly having all sorts of weird surges of energy go through my body from the contact of Doug’s hand squeezing mine, and his almost sultry eye contact with me now, his smile changing from broad and bright to sort of lascivious. I wasn’t gay, or even bisexual, but I had to admit that I was now feeling a certain electricity charging my sex drives and could even feel my cock twitch.

Doug ran his hand up my forearm about halfway to my elbow.

“Have you ever been with another man, Paul?” he asked with a husky, sensual tone of voice.

Oh my God! Holy shit! Here’s another nice mess I’ve gotten myself into, I thought.

“N-n-no, n-n-never!” I managed to stammer; lying of course because as all male kids do in their early pubescent years, I’d fooled around with a couple of my pals, jerking off together, jerking each other off, even sucking each other’s boy dicks and poking each other in the ass with them, but never fucking.

“I’m sort of drawn to older men myself,” Doug continued. “They’re not as intimidating and aren’t in a big hurry like younger guys who just want to get off and go.”

My throat was so tight I was nearly strangling, and my pulse rate was skyrocketing. Yet, I didn’t pull my arm out of Doug’s grasp. I was beginning to feel those sensations beginning to radiate from my core, the sensations I normally felt when becoming aroused with my ex-wife as we enjoyed foreplay with one another.

“I’m glad you like older guys, Doug, but I’m old enough to be your father, or even older!” I croaked, trying to lubricate my voice box with a mouthful of coffee. “I’m just a burned-out old cop, nothing you’d be interested in.”

“On the contrary,” Doug said, as he released my arm and finished his coffee now, and rose. “You’re exactly what I like in a man; mature, not a hard body, but not a bucket of flab either, nice eyes, nice personality, a cop even…and maybe a nice cock too,” he said with a wicked smile and a wink. “I’ve never had a cop.”

My cock did jump when he heard his name mentioned! I watched Doug step over to the sink and put the dishes into it.

“I’ll be right back,” Doug said, “I want to get those wet clothes of yours and put them into the dryer so they’ll be done sometime today,” and he disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes. Evidently there was a little laundry area concealed in the linen closet by the shower. Helluva setup!

And now here I was; naked inside Doug’s robe, in his kitchen, and me without clothing, and with a monsoon in progress outside. A fly snagged in the spider’s web! A fly that should have been old enough to know better! I suddenly had empathy for the girls I’d dealt with after had a bad encounter with a date, or an acquaintance, after getting into a seemingly innocent situation.

I drained the last of my coffee as Doug came back out of the bathroom into the kitchen.

“Can I get you another,” he offered.

“No, thanks, that was plenty,” I said.

“Good, now we can relax and talk some more. C’mon, come into the other room where we can get comfortable on the leathers,” he suggested.

I got up and followed Doug to the main room, and as I followed I could see his firm buttocks swaying, sheathed in his sateen pants. I saw no lines for underwear, and it sure looked like Doug’s butt was naked inside those pants. The robe rubbed across the head of my penis and made me shudder and my dick throb. Doug flopped down into the luxuriant chair and indicated with his outstretched hand that I should occupy the couch. Hmmmm, I thought. How many victims had he devoured here already? The thought of Doug having sex with guys here caused my cock to begin to inflate, even as I fought it down. I dropped quickly into the couch to avoid Doug noticing the bump in the robe at my groin, and I arranged myself and the robe to cover it and to try and recover and head off the sexual excitement I was experiencing now, regardless of how I tried to extinguish it. I tried to concentrate on how really great sinking into this glove leather monster felt, as it molded around me.

Tears stung his eyes. What had gone wrong between them? Shadow opened his eyes. Looking at him like this, he couldn’t remember what he had done to deserve what had happened between them so long ago. Shadow leaned down to place his lips against each ragged slash in his calf in no way removing his fingers from the lines on his ankle. The flesh beneath his was cold and lifeless. Before he could rise up and turn away, the tears in his eyes were falling unchecked. “Damn you…” Shade couldn’t bring himself to look at the marks where his own fangs had torn into Tarkin’ton’s palm, or the eight lines that ripped across Tar’s back, or the chunk of flesh missing on one of his shoulders. All defensive wounds of the night Shadow had first fled. The night he had gone blind. Tarkin had drug him back and had him chained in the dungeon for half a year, or more.

He stumbled away to a concealed wash room. Sinking to the floor beside a bubbling pool, he let the plants and darkness soothe him. His head tilted thinking he had heard a sound, but his senses were growing distorted again. He needed to leave this place! If Tar woke up while he was here, he would be punished. Even lying beside that cold, dead body would no longer convince him that the shadows would not once again rise against him! “Damn you!” Shadow knew he was being drained again. Hawk was right. He could feel it! His whole system was sick from the weakness. Stumbling up against the wall, he pressed a panel opening a hidden door to a concealed bedroom.

He thought someone moved inside of the room, but then it was gone. Shadow chalked it up to one vicious ghost letting the door slide closed behind him and falling heavily upon the bed. Someone brushed his forehead as he fought to stay awake. “Tar…why…” No one answered him. A cool cloth brushed his face lightly. He tried to swat it away and rolled onto his back, but by now his eyes wouldn’t open up again. Shadow could smell Tarkin! He was in the room…so near! Shade moaned in helpless agony. “Go away! Please, go away,” he begged him weakly. His fear grew sharply. If Tar could touch him and feel so solid while he was dead, he was lost already. Nothing he could do would stop him! “I am tired, Tar,” he whispered, “just let me sleep.” The cloth moved over his scars and he managed to catch it! Shadow heard a soft gasp as someone faded away. He sat up suddenly and looked around. The darkness was absolute and unbroken, yet the damp cloth still lay in his fist. “Oh, Gods, why,” he groaned wretchedly. “Why did it have to end like this?” He saw a shadow that moved and paled in fear. “Talk to me,” he snarled demanding an answer! The shape lit up with a small amount of purple light. It really was Tarkin’ton. Shadow swallowed, face pinched as he turned away.

“You are asking me why?” Shade shuddered. “You attacked me and fled.”

“Tarkin…” Shadow shook dying inside. Did he really have to say it out loud? He lay back down and curled into the soft sheets hurting more than he could bear.

“Not out loud, then…why? Why did you run? I know you tell everyone it was Ash and Bael! You attacked me and fled before even that! Whisper it into my head, love! Why?” Could he really not know? After all of this time, he hadn’t once figured it out. Tarkin had asked and asked while he had him chained in the dungeon. Shadow had sealed the thought away so tightly in pure anger and hatred. Tarkin’ton had felt his emotions, but had not been able to pluck the image from his mind. Was it even possible that he was still ignorant of his own crime? Shadow felt a brush of something that moved his hair away from his face and a sweet kiss affectionately placed on his brow. “Tell me. Please…You are driving me crazy not knowing, Shade! What did I do to make you hate me?” His begging pleas stabbed at his heart. They only made him cry harder wishing he could hate him in truth. Desperately, he wished for it, but every wish failed him! His heart would always belong to Tar! “Shade, please…” He sounded like he was fading away, growing softer and more indistinct. “I can’t stay, love. I have to go; I am too weak. Try to get some sleep.” Shadow felt another doting kiss on his cheek this time; he curled away from it uselessly. “Take care of him.” A soft sound in the corner indicated someone moving as he let himself drift away. “Try to get him to eat. He never eats,” Tar added in complete exasperation to whoever was with him…the mysterious Pevin?

“I will. Please, rest,” the boy whispered.

“Don’t you dare to harm him, Pevin! I love him more than you can know.”

“Yes, sir,” the boy agreed sullenly. Shadow almost laughed, but he was too far gone to do it. Was he actually asleep and hearing the conversation through Tarkin’ton, he wondered. Had he sounded so moody when Hawk had warned him of the very same thing downstairs? If they stopped fighting, would they be forced to share Tar? It would never happen!

“So jealous,” the ghost sighed sadly. “What should I do?” Shadow wondered if he was talking where Pevin could hear him, or only in his companion’s mind. “Stop loving,” the ghost asked angrily. “Let myself die so you will both stop fighting me,” he suggested with a snort of derision. “Too bad, lover,” he snarled. “I am not in the mood!” With that last statement, he fed upon Shadow’s energy until he drug him deeper into unconsciousness. “Treat him better than you would treat me! Or I will kill you both,” he warned darkly as he disappeared.

Shadow dreamed. He didn’t want to dream. He hated them here. They were always the same. They always took him back to that room…back to the pain…He resisted them restlessly losing hope, but dream he did.

‘Pain lanced his back and drew forth an inadequate yelp. Shadow could feel the tug as jagged bits of metal were pulled savagely out of the open meat of his shredded back. The blood had become an unbearable itch down his legs dropping off of his toes. You would think he wouldn’t be able to feel such a minor irritant, but it was maddening! Another lash slammed into his side and a rib shattered under the fury behind it! Shadow couldn’t even draw enough of a breath to whimper at the pain of it. He pulled up on his arms and felt the broken bones in his wrists shift against the metal. It almost made him pass out.

“He isn’t going to tell you anything, Tar. Leave him alone.”

“Shadoc,” Tarkin called out. “When did you get here?” The smile he could hear in his companion’s voice still had the power to stab him with jealousy!

“Gods, Tar,” he hissed studying the mess Tarkin’ton had made of Shadow. “Are you trying to kill him,” he asked impressed by his handiwork.

“No, but,” the desperate sadness in his voice bordered on near madness.

“Go on up and get some rest, Tarkin. I will clean him up,” Shadoc offered. Shadow heard Tar leave as his brother stepped in closer. The water from his movement slapped at Shadow’s feet. “Damn, Sha’da Limn…He is pissed off! What did you do to him? Try not to worry too much. He will do all that I ask of him.” A hand moved in the broken skin along his back. “Did you know this one goes to the bone?” Shadow felt him lick at the wound laughing softly. “Damn, this is nice! I think I will just go up and fuck your pretty lover for you. Sweet dreams, brother of mine.” The chamber sealed behind him and began to flood with water. Shade was too weak to even struggle, so he waited for it too weak to even call out for help…’

He woke bathed and bare. Shadow felt well rested, but the dream had left him royally cranky. He threw off the covers and pressed another panel to pass into yet another bathroom. The water eased some of the tension out of his neck muscles, but nowhere near enough. A sleepy-eyed boy came in from Shadow’s old room watching him lazily. “Good morning,” he mumbled. His hair was pure silver. Not white at all, but real metallic silver over a layer of dark black. Pevin’s eyes were the exact opposite. His skin was the ashy shade of burnt charcoal sparking a memory in his mind. The nails were jet with a sparkle of silver in them and the same color was woven along his skin in intricate tattoos. Vine-like markings wrapped like a dark web down his arms from his knuckles to his wrists and from his elbows to shoulder blades. More graced his lower calf running up to his hipbones. Pevin flashed fangs at him when he smiled. “Hungry,” he asked. “I need to eat and so do you.” Shock swept through him.

“You are Meg’rin’s son!” He also knew one of the two unlucky dragon twins below was his father.

“Yeah, he said you had an uncanny knack for tracing bloodlines.” Pevin shrugged, but the casual gesture was at odds with his worried eyes.

“What,” Shadow asked as he stepped out to dry off. He was already clean and the water couldn’t relax a person who was being irritated, so he took the towel the boy handed him.

“Why in the God’s names did you return,” he hissed at him. Pevin’s eyes flashed silver as he turned away. “You will have to make more clothes. I threw the old ones out,” he admitted sullenly. Shadow dressed with a simple thought and felt the tug expending such a minor amount of energy caused him. Then, he melted into a shadow in the room to reappear beside Hawk down below. The boy came up screeching in fright from where he had been sleeping. It was the dim interior of the lower basement room and they were surrounded by the other, younger boys.

“My lord,” Hawk said more calmly and cautiously, “can we help you?”

“Is everyone inside of this room that should be in here?” Hawk nodded looking around to be certain he told the truth. “Good,” he sighed. Sealing the room drained him dry, but he did it. He adjusted the spell specifically against even the shadow walkers that populated the house and as an added precaution added a light spell to disperse the shadows in the room itself. Only then did he feel safer, he realized.

“My lord,” Hawk sounded confused. “I have noticed that you do not like the darkness, but neither do you like the light. Forgive me. Are you not supposed to feel safer in the shadows? You cannot run in pure light.”

“Why would I need to run? You boys can certainly hurt me, but not as much as I have been before. I am not afraid of any of you.” Hawk settled down beside of him curiously, slowly allowing his fear of the vampire to fade. The boy’s golden avien eyes and spotted, feathered skin were begging him to touch. “Gods, you are beautiful!” Hawk’s eyes sparkled at him in pleasure.

“Thank you,” he stated as he turned away. Shadow couldn’t help touching the bare scars where the poor creature’s wings had once been. They had been ripped away down to his very skin! He pulled him back into his body. The little avien snuggled in below his chin and drifted into a peacefully content state. Shadow’s eyes closed against the bright light. “Are you still tired, my lord?” Hawk moved a little in his arms. “Perhaps food…”

“I am fine. I have eaten more lately than usual. It is not lack of food draining me.”

“So he wakes,” the boy sighed. It sounded a hell of a lot like relief in his voice! “I am healed. If you want a few swallows,” he teased gently, “I can spare it.” Shadow felt nearly compelled to take the offer when the boy moved to let his bare neck slide along his lips. “I am food. I don’t mind feeding something that does not kill me, my lord.” Without any conscious planning, his teeth broke through that fragile flesh to the blood below. “Shade,” Hawk whispered with a prominent rush of lust that swept into the fluid he was drinking. It caused a noticeable reaction. Shadow broke the kiss, startled. Hawk leaned back, caught his face, and kissed him for real! The taste of his own blood didn’t seem to bother him in the least as he explored his mouth hungrily. A soft wind ruffled his feathers as Shadow’s hands eased down them carefully. The wind in the room caught his attention away from the budding desire.

“Your father was not avien,” he stated in wonder.

“Not now,” Hawk growled. “You can trace my lineage back to its roots later.” Hawk used a knee and a hand against his leather encased groin to let him know what he wanted. “I hear no one can turn you on, Shade.”

Those words had been true once, but obviously no longer applied. Was it wearing off? He mentally allowed his clothes to disappear and drew up those delicately golden thighs around him. “Obviously untrue,” he teased as buried himself up into him. Hawk clutched him shaking from it. Blood rushed hotly through his veins until he felt a vicious need. Shadow tried to hold back and go slow as he generally enjoyed doing, but for once he needed quick! He took an extra sip at the boy’s throat, but Hawk never noticed. The avien used his whole body to urge him into a speed he feared would tear his feathers out if he wasn’t careful. Somewhere in that embrace, he tasted a flavor that did not belong. His entire being was swamped in the pleasure of sliding up in a hot grip of skin that pulled at him every time he drew away. A moan of near surrender sighed up from the boy…yet…something…was wrong…distracting Shadow. It was in the fading taste, but he couldn’t risk taking any more. He didn’t want to harm the tiny creature.

“Shade,” Hawk called softly. “Did I lose you?” He felt his body react to his voice the way it had before tightening down in severe lust! It caused a sharp gasp as everything tensed for a few final plunges, before he speared up one last time to explode and surge into him in pulsing groans of exquisite torture! When he began to relax, it left him so tired he couldn’t fight it off. “That is it…” Hawk stroked him like he was petting a sleepy puppy. “You should relax more often. Sleep, Shade,” he whispered. Shadow felt the nearly hidden compulsion in his voice and let it drag him down.

We were lying on the bed, my head facing his crotch, his facing mine. He kissed my stomach, my thighs, all around my crotch. I again grabbed his ass and pulled his dick toward me. I wanted him in my mouth, I wanted to suck him, and I wanted him to cum down my throat. I felt his warm mouth engulfing my cock, again deep-throating me like it was the easiest thing to do. I started sucking on his dick, taking in as much as I could. I wanted to give him the same pleasure that he was giving me. Little by little, I was able to swallow most of his dick. I was thrilled by the way his body smelled, the sounds he was making, the taste of the whole experience. Rick was great at what he did. As it turned out, I wasn’t that bad either.

We were sucking each other like there was no tomorrow. I was sweating and so was Rick. It was almost like being all oiled up. I could feel the volcano building. I was starting the climb to the top, as it were. I sucked on Rick’s cock furiously. I wanted it to be simultaneous. I was afraid that if I came first, I wouldn’t bring him to orgasm the way he deserved. I was going to cum and there was no turning back. I know that I had his whole cock in my mouth. I was sucking him like there was no tomorrow. My hips were pushing into him and he was pushing into me. He was fucking my face and I loved every second of it.

I started to cum in a way like I had never cum before. My level of excitement was incredible. Just as I started to shoot, I felt Rick’s body tighten up. Moments later, his cock started shooting a torrent of sperm into my mouth. I held onto his ass for dear life and sucked him as hard I could. My mouth was filled with his cum. It was not unlike my own except there was a lot if it. I swallowed as much as I could, savoring its flavor, but there was still some spilling out of the corners of my mouth onto my beard and moustache. I knew I would be smelling and tasting Rick’s semen for quite a while. I was spent and so was Rick.

We each got up and looked at each other. My cum was on his face and his was on mine. There was only one thing to do. We kissed in a heated embrace, swapping our cum for an incredible snowball. I didn’t want to kiss another guy. I only wanted to suck him. It was a little more than I bargained for but it was truly the perfect ending to our tete-a-tete.

Rick lay on the bed with his handsome penis flopping off to one side, still slightly engorged with blood, a few drops of cum spilling onto his thigh. It was a pretty sight. As I got dressed, Rick asked me when we could see each other again. I told him that it was an unbelievable experience that I wouldn’t mind doing again but that I didn’t know when my wife would be going out of town. I told him to just check out the “Dirty Bird” every now and then and maybe, just maybe we could build on our efforts. There were certainly other things that I would like to do to him and have him do to me.

I walked out of his building into the spring air with a new look on life. I had experienced something that I only dreamed about. It was more than I expected. My thoughts were interrupted by the ring of my cellphone. Caller ID told me it was my wife calling from the Hamptons.

“Hi, honey.”

“Everything OK?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have a nice day?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“What are you going to tonight?”

“Oh, just gonna hang out and relax.”

“Well, don’t do anything without me, if you know what I mean.”

“I can’t wait until you get home. I’m going to fuck you silly.”

“I can’t wait. See you tomorrow.”

I hung up my phone and clipped it back on my belt. I noticed that my fly was only half-zipped. I was in a neighborhood where that might be taken as a hint or an enticement. I pulled up my zipper. After all, I was straight. But I couldn’t get the new movie that was playing in my head to stop. In fact, I was trying to create the next chapter. I took a deep breath of the warm spring hair. I could still taste Rick in my mouth. When I get home, I nice single malt would cleanse my palate. Until then, I was going to savor the flavor and rewind the movie.