Copyright for this story belongs to and remains with the author. I don't have any major objection to my work being re-distributed, but ASK FIRST!!!
This is a gay adult story with the consequent language and images. If homosexuality and/or sexually explicit themes offend you then do not continue. If these are illegal in your area, then you have my sympathy, but you proceed at your own risk.
This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily.
I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may inspire new work, please feel free to contact me -- all emails will be answered to the best of my ability. iainlthr@hotmail.com.
Another Nick & Noah
Chapter 3
The wailing of sirens heralded the arrival of the police, who quickly sealed off the room where Wes's body lay. As forensic examiners moved in, photographing everything before turning the place over to fingerprint experts, Nick and Noah were shepherded out onto the pool deck area, both of them in mild shock.
They told the detective who interviewed them everything they could about the evening, which wasn't much. Wes had been happy and fine when they left, and dead when they returned. Their presence at the restaurant all evening could be easily confirmed by waiters. The house itself appeared not to be disturbed, although they were unable to say whether anything had been stolen since they didn't really know the place that well, having only arrived for the first time 36 hours earlier.
Detective Moran seemed to accept their explanation of having met Mr Arrows-Smith through the introduction of a mutual friend, and didn't enquire too much more on their relationship. When he asked if there had been any other people in the house over the weekend, both men suddenly remembered Patrick.
"Oh shit," Nick declared.
"His nephew," Noah offered by way of explanation. "Wes' nephew, Patrick, lives here with him. He was here this afternoon. He and his partner left about 6.00. They were going to a party somewhere, and said they'd be back, but not until late. We need to contact him, but I have no idea how."
"Do you know the nephew's surname?"
"Uhh, no," Noah said.
"He was Wes' sister's son, so his name won't be `Arrows-Smith'," Nick added.
"His partner's name is Frank -- and no, I don't know his last name either," Noah went on.
The cop raised an eyebrow at that. Nick sighed deeply. "Before we get any further, Detective," he said, bristling for an argument, "Mr Arrows-Smith was gay. His nephew is gay. I and my partner here, Noah, are gay. The friend who introduced us is gay. Is any of this going to be a problem?"
Moran shook his head. "Please, Mr Giannis," he said soothingly. "I wasn't disapproving. It just took me by surprise. If it makes you feel any better, I am gay too. And no, that doesn't make any difference to the case, or to how I investigate it!"
Nick reddened. "Sorry, it's just that..."
"Gentlemen," the cop offered quietly. "I am only too well aware that being gay seems to cause more problems than it should. But let's get that all out in the open and dismiss it right now. I have a murder to investigate."
"Please forgive our attitude, detective," Noah said. "It's late, and it's been a very upsetting night, or should that be morning?" He looked at his watch -- it was now almost 2.00 a.m.
"It's forgotten. Now, we need to find this `Patrick'..."
"What in the fuck is going on?" demanded a loud, shrill voice from the front of the house. "I live here, so don't tell me I can't come in. Uncle Wes? Uncle Wes? What's happening?"
The voice was quickly growing louder and verging on hysteria.
"I think we've just found him," said Noah.
A uniformed officer rounded the corner, leading a very agitated Patrick, and a rather dazed looking Frank, back to where Nick and Noah waited.
"Detective Moran, this is Mr Arrows-Smith's nephew Patrick, and his partner Frank," Noah said by way of introduction, turning to face the cop. Moran stood there staring open-mouthed, his face white.
Nick and Noah swapped questioning glances at the strange reaction of the detective.
"Unh, P... Patrick, you said?" he stammered.
"Yes, that's right, Patrick Feldman," Patrick replied, looking directly at the cop and speaking in a slowly rising voice. "What the fuck is going on?"
Moran seemed to shake off his surprise, and became businesslike and professional once again. "Sorry," he muttered. "You look remarkably like someone I know," he offered by way of explanation. He sat Patrick down and, surprisingly gently, explained what had happened to his uncle.
"Noooo!" wailed the young man, collapsing in a heap, sobs wracking his body. "Uncle Wes! Uncle Wes!" he repeated in a diminishing voice.
Frank went to put his arms around Patrick, but it was obvious that he too was in shock, and not of much assistance. Nick moved to the pair, offering his support as he held them both.
Noah motioned to the detective and pulled him to one side. "There's something else you should know," he said softly. "Mr Arrows-Smith told us only last night that he thought someone was trying to murder him!"
Quickly, Noah repeated to the very surprised cop what Wes had told them the previous evening about the various incidents in recent months. Moran took copious notes, asking more questions than Noah had answers for, shaking his head as he did.
By the time Noah had told the detective everything he could, Patrick had calmed down enough to be asked some questions.
"You left the house around 6.00 pm I understand," Moran said. Patrick nodded. "Where did you go?"
"Ummm, we went to a friend's place in Portsea," Frank answered for him.
"Is there anyone else who might have access to the house?"
"It wasn't locked!" Nick jumped in. "We came back from the restaurant and it was open."
"But that wouldn't be common knowledge," said the cop. "Patrick -- anyone?"
Patrick shook his head vaguely, uncomprehendingly. Frank spoke up again. "What about Mrs Fitzgibbon?"
To the questioning look of Detective Moran, he elaborated. "The housekeeper. She lives in the cottage." He motioned towards it with his jaw.
"Out," said Patrick flatly. "Day off -- Sunday -- goes to her son's place."
"I think we may need to continue this tomorrow," the detective said, seeing the lost look on Patrick's face. His assistant had just motioned to him that they were about to remove the body. "Will you be alright here tonight?"
Nick nodded. Noah assured him they would stay with Patrick for the night.
"I'm going to have to ask you to extend your stay in Melbourne, gentlemen," he said. At least for a few days while we confirm your stories and get what details we can. I may need to speak to you again before you return to Sydney.
Nick began to object, but Noah nodded. "That's okay. We should stay for the funeral now anyway. Patrick, do you mind if we stay here?"
The young man nodded absently. "I think it would be better if you did," said Frank, gratefully.
As the police finished what they had to do in the rest of the house, Nick poured them all strong drinks, and the four men sat together by the pool, trying to offer each other some comfort through the long hours until dawn. Patrick sat in a daze, Frank simply looked lost, and Nick and Noah alternated between offering soothing words and hugging the two younger men when they felt they needed it.
It was well into Monday morning before Patrick finally got to sleep. Collapsed from exhaustion would be a better term, since that is what happened to him. Frank carried him upstairs and lay down beside him, trying to rest also, while Nick and Noah worried to each other about what needed to be done. They felt that someone should notify the company about Wes before the meeting, but had no idea who to contact. They were certain other friends and relatives should be told, but didn't know whom or how. When the housekeeper, Mrs Fitzgibbon showed up around 7.00 am, it was obvious to her that something was seriously wrong. It fell to Nick and Noah to give her the bad news, which led to another session of comforting as the poor woman wailed and sobbed.
Patrick and Frank surfaced around 11.30, about the same time that the phone began to ring. Noah asked Nick to look after the boys and the housekeeper, while he started taking the calls, trying his best to answer questions, without really knowing who he should be telling what. He wasn't sure how it had gotten out, but it seemed that news of Wes' death had begun to circulate fairly early. In a respite from the phone, Noah suddenly thought of David. He had been a long term friend of Wes. He called the number he knew by heart.
"Hello?"
"David, it's Noah."
"Well, hello there. Having a good time in Melbourne?" David said cheerily.
"David, I have some bad news. I'm sorry, but there's no easy way to say it. Wes is dead."
There was a sharp intake of breath and a short silence down the line before David spoke again. "How? What happened? Are you alright?"
Noah went on to tell his friend what had happened, what they had found. He explained how lost he felt, not knowing any of Wes' friends or contacts in the area.
"Damn," David cursed down the line. "I'll be there as soon as I can!"
"But..."
"No buts," David said. "I know the area, know the city, know the people. You need help, and so does Patrick. Wes would have wanted it. I'll cancel everything up here, and be down there this afternoon."
"But we're out at Wes' house on the Mornington Peninsula. How are you going to get here from the city?"
"Don't worry. I know where the house is. I'll hire a car at the airport and drive myself out there. See you soon." With that he hung up.
Knowing David was on his way, and that he could help where they couldn't manage, made Noah feel much better. He went to let Nick know what was happening. He found a much recovered Patrick sitting quietly by the pool.
"We need to start thinking about making arrangements," Patrick was saying. "The funeral, all that stuff."
"You can't do anything yet. The police will want to keep Wes' body for examination and an autopsy," sighed Nick.
"I can't believe this has happened," muttered Frank, still looking lost.
"Try to calm down, Frank," Noah said to him soothingly. "Patrick is going to need your help and support over the next few days, even weeks." The young man nodded slowly.
A doorbell announced the return of Detective Moran. Noah let him in and showed him to the patio where the others were sitting. He spoke to them all gently, telling them that although the investigation was just starting, he would do everything he could to find the murderer, and that he was sympathetic to how they felt. He assured Patrick that Wes' body would be released and able to be buried within a week, then said he needed to speak to them again individually.
Noah helped the detective set himself up in a sitting room, since no-one was able to go into the library just yet. The cop spoke first to the housekeeper, but didn't keep her very long at all. Her alibi was solid, and she had little information that could help with his investigation.
Next it was Frank's turn. As he left, he held Patrick's hand, looking into his lover's eyes with a searching glance. "It will all be okay," he said reassuringly. He was only gone for a short time, giving the policeman details of where they had been the previous evening, before returning to the group.
"Patrick?" called the detective.
"It's okay," Frank said. "I told him where we were all night. He just has to check -- it's part of his job."
Patrick nodded, took a deep breath, and walked into the sitting room.
After Patrick had been with the cop for over an hour, Frank began to get agitated.
"What is going on?" he asked no-one in particular.
"Take it easy, Frank," Nick advised. "Patrick knew more about his uncle than anyone, so it's logical that the cops will need more information from him."
Eventually Patrick reappeared, looking tired but not overly concerned. Detective Moran followed him out. "Mr Sorensen, Mr Giannis, can I speak to you together please?" he said.
Nick and Noah looked at each other, and followed the cop back into the sitting room. "I don't have anything more I need to ask you at this early point," he said amicably. "With what you told me last night about Mr Arrows-Smith's concerns for his own welfare, and some information and names I've been given by his nephew, hopefully we'll be able to look into a number of possibilities. I want to thank you -- without the two separate sets of information we may have had nothing at all."
"Glad we could help," beamed Nick.
"Are you able to tell us anymore -- about what happened, I mean?" asked Noah.
"Not much," Moran sighed. "Initial observations suggest Mr Arrows-Smith was stabbed at least four times with an unidentified sharp object, most likely a knife, although we can't find any such knife in the house. There's no sign of forced entry, although as you know the house wasn't locked so anyone could have gotten in quite easily. Best guess at the time of the attack would be between 8.00 and 9.00 pm, so he would have been dead a couple of hours before you found him.
"There appears to be nothing stolen from the house, and it wasn't ransacked, so I think we can dismiss robbery as a motive. Unfortunately, given Mr Arrows-Smith's extensive business holdings, plus what you told me last night, there are any number of possibilities, so this is not likely to be a short investigation. Although I'd prefer it if you were still available for a little while yet, I don't have any reason to ask you to remain in Victoria, so if you wish to return home, you can."
"Thanks for that," Noah said seriously. He looked at Nick and turned back to the cop. "Detective Moran,..."
"Please, call me `Bob'," interrupted the officer.
Noah smiled. "Bob, we're going to stay here at least until the funeral, and we'll let you know before we leave. You have our mobile phone numbers, and we'll give you our home address and phone as well, just in case."
"Thanks, guys," the cop smiled. "I'll leave you to it. I think young Patrick is going to need some help over the next few days."
"Yes, I think you could be right," Noah agreed. He shook hands warmly with the detective, as did Nick, with a slightly bemused expression.
After the officer had left, as they headed back to the poolside, Nick caught Noah's arm, and whispered into his ear.
"Noah Sorensen, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were flirting with Detective Moran!"
Noah sputtered indignantly, but he reddened at the same time. "I was just trying to be polite. Besides, it always helps to keep the cops on side, you know."
Nick laughed. "Especially when they are handsome, and built like a brick shit-house!"
"Don't be stupid, I wasn't coming on to him, I was just doing my civic duty!"
"Hey, lover," Nick grinned. "It's okay. I wouldn't say no' to him wanting to, ah, interrogate' you a little more closely. I'd even give him a hand! Just think -- he would have his own handcuffs -- real ones! I'll bet he'd look fucking hot in chaps and a harness ..."
Noah laughed as well. "Yes, he certainly would," he agreed.
Feeling a little better, they returned to the others. Mrs Fitzgibbon had busied herself making a tray of sandwiches and salad, so although no-one was hungry, they all sat down to eat. At least it gave them something to do.
"Patrick," Noah said evenly. "The cops said you gave them some information that could help -- names and stuff concerning your uncle?"
"Uh huh," he responded. "They wanted to know if I could think of anyone who would want to hurt him, or of anyone with whom he had been fighting recently. I told them I didn't think it was serious enough for them to, uhh ... kill him," he stopped, choking over the word.
"What was?" Nick prodded.
"Well, there have been a couple of things in the last few months. I don't think Uncle Wes even knew I was aware, but he's had some pretty loud arguments with two different guys."
"Go on," urged Noah. "Who with? And what was it about, do you know?"
"The first one was the next door neighbour. The guy kept coming over regularly, and he and Uncle Wes would go inside and argue for ages. I overheard them one day, just before Wes threw the guy out and told him to stop wasting his time, and never come back. I'm pretty sure he wanted to buy the property. If not all of it, then certainly a big slice. He kept saying something about sub-divisions and huge profits for little effort, insisted that it needed to be done before the rezoning went through."
"What `re-zoning'? Do you know anything about it?"
"Nothing at all. I don't understand what it was about. All I know is that the last time he was here -- has to be a few months ago now, Uncle Wes practically threw him out by the scruff of his neck, and he wasn't too happy. Kept shouting about how Uncle Wes was a fool with more money than sense, and that he would be sorry!"
"Hmm, very interesting," said Nick.
"And there was something else?" prompted Noah.
"Uh huh. About the same time. An older guy called Terry Michaels, he used to come around from time to time. I know his name because he used to call on the phone a lot too. Always wanting to talk to Wes, but would never tell me what it was about, just that it was `personal'. I came home one day to find him standing out the front of the house, cursing and swearing and demanding to be let in. When I asked him what he wanted, he just swore and took off. A few days later he was back, and this time he was in the library with Wes. I was worried after the previous shouting so I hung around in case Uncle Wes needed a hand. I heard this guy say that unless Wes gave him some more time, he'd go to the papers, tell them all about Wes' personal life, about being gay. Wes just laughed at him, said 'blackmail' was a crime, and that he wouldn't put up with it. They started shouting and the guy stormed out yelling about how Uncle Wes would get what was coming to him."
"I don't like the sound of that at all," Noah mused.
"But I don't think it was all that bad," Patrick explained. "I asked Wes about it afterwards, because I was worried. He said I should feel sorry for the guy rather than be concerned. Apparently this guy used to be an acquaintance ..." Patrick stopped, and looked guiltily as he half whispered, "I think he and Wes may have been on together once."
"An ex lover?" Nick asked quickly.
"No, I don't think so. More like a `fuck-buddy'. Wes didn't talk about things like that much, so I didn't press. But he did tell me that the guy had a major gambling problem. Owed heaps to some illegal casino. Wes had lent him some money to help him out, but despite a whole stack of promises, the guy hadn't paid the money back. That was what the fight was over, or so Uncle Wes said."
Patrick lapsed into silence again, staring off into space, as Frank settled his arm around his mate's shoulders. Before either Nick or Noah could ask any more, the doorbell rang again.
"I'll go," Noah said.
"Are you okay?" was the first thing David said as Noah opened the door.
"Yeah, better now," Noah grinned. "You've made record time!"
"Melbourne's not that far away, you know. How is Nick?"
"As usual, seeing murderers at every corner, and sure the cops are out to get us!" Noah laughed.
"What about Patrick? Is he here?"
"Yes, he and Frank are out by the pool. He's taking it hard, but he's getting better."
"Frank?" David looked uncertain.
"His boyfriend. Don't you know him?"
"No, never met him," David said, the concern disappearing. "Wes did mention a boyfriend, but I haven't actually seen Patrick for several years." He steeled himself as Noah led him to the others.
"Dave!" Patrick said as soon as he saw him.
"Well, haven't you grown up?" David commented admiringly.
"Thanks for coming," Patrick said. "How did you know?"
"Nick and Noah -- they're good friends of mine and Joe's."
"Oh, of course." Patrick turned to Frank. "Frank this is Dave -- one of Wes' oldest friends. Dave -- Frank -- my partner."
Frank and David shook hands, and David settled into a chair as some of the events of the last 24 hours were rehashed for him, and he was brought up to speed on what the boys knew. He quickly took control of the situation, asking who had rung, and who had been notified. Noah gave him a list of the callers he had spoken to that morning, and told him what they had said.
"Patrick," David sought the young man's attention. "You need to start making some decisions. You're his `next-of-kin'. You'll have to contact a funeral parlour, and let the family know. I can get in touch with mutual friends who will spread the word, but you are going to have to grow up and take responsibility very quickly, I'm afraid. What about Phillip?"
"Phillip?" echoed Frank.
"Who is Phillip?" asked Nick.
"He's not around anymore, they broke up," Patrick said quickly, almost defensively.
"I know that," replied David, "But I think he should be told, and it should be soon, before he hears it on the grapevine."
"Phillip is Wes' ex?" Noah asked. When David nodded, Noah said quietly, "He mentioned an ex, said it wasn't all that happy a split."
"No," David confirmed, "But I still think he deserves to be one of the first to be told. He loved Wes very much. The break-up hit him pretty hard."
For the next couple of hours, David set about allocating chores for each of them. He was particularly concerned to see that Patrick had plenty to do. "It'll take his mind off what has happened," he explained to Noah. Once he was satisfied that all that needed to be done was started, he finally slowed down himself, slumping into a chair beside Nick and Noah when the three found themselves alone.
"Thanks, David," Noah said. "We were feeling a little out of our depth."
"It's always hard when you don't know the locals," David empathised. "But I'm glad you two were here. I don't know whether Patrick would have coped by himself. I know I wouldn't want to try to do it alone."
"So what does Joe think about losing you for a week?" Nick asked.
David beamed widely. "He isn't! I jumped on the first plane, but he's arranging things at home today and tomorrow, including a substitute dog-sitter for Indiana. He's flying down tomorrow evening. Wanna drive up to the airport with me to collect him?"
"Yeah," Nick grinned. "I think we could use a break from here, and maybe Patrick could use some time to himself for a few hours."
That night the entire household slept soundly, more from exhaustion than peace of mind. Tuesday morning brought another visit from Detective Moran with a few more brief questions for Patrick, and the news that forensics were finished with the house so it, and in particular the library, could be cleaned. Noah helped David to discreetly remove the rug where Wes had fallen and bled, before allowing the housekeeper in to remove all evidence of what had happened -- a job she set about with grim determination.
Noah introduced David to the cop, explaining who he was. Bob Moran seemed pleased to meet this new friend, and David promised to help in any way he could with any further information.
As the officer left, David whistled quietly after him. "Nice arse!"
Moran didn't hear, but Nick and Noah did, and Nick smirked. "Noah thinks so too. I think he'd like to `serve' Officer Moran."
"Alright, already, let it go," Noah declared, grinning.
"Mmmm," David chuckled. "I'd be up' for a bit of law and order myself, given the chance. I'll bet sabre' and trojan' could assist the long arm of the law in investigating' a couple of slaves by the names of viking and eagar, too. What do you think Nick?"
Nick smirked with lust, "Now there's a way to carry out some real civic duties!"
The three of them watched with interest as the detective climbed into his car and waved them farewell.
Frank declared that he needed to get some things done at home, and after being assured by Patrick that he was okay, set off with a promise that he would be back the following day, and would stay on for as long as he was needed.
David, Nick and Noah left the house around 5.00 to drive into Melbourne and collect Joe from the airport. Hitting peak hour traffic meant they had a slow trip through the city and out on the Tullamarine Freeway, but still arrived before Joe's plane disembarked. A round of hugs and reunions followed as all four men accepted the awful truth of Wes' murder, and acknowledged that they had a large job on their hands over the next few days.
Back at the house, Joe was introduced to Patrick and Mrs Fitzgibbon, who insisted on making a hearty meal for the men over their protests. After dinner she disappeared to her cottage, and Patrick excused himself early, heading for his bed. The four friends sat long into the night, going over all that they knew, and trying to find something that would help the police track down Wes' killer.
When they finally declared the evening done and made their way to the guest bedrooms, Nick and Noah fell into restless sleep quickly. David sat on the edge of the bed rubbing his head, and trying to go over in his mind all of the things that needed to be done in the next few days.
"Hey there, stud," Joe said softly, hands on David's shoulders as he began a slow, gentle massage. "I'm proud of you."
"Proud of me? What for?" asked his lover in surprise.
"Because of the way you've taken over, settled everyone down and gotten them thinking about things that need to be done. You know I love it when you take control ..." he slid his arms around David's body, hugging him back into his own body and whispering into his ear, "... and when you do it in real life it makes me proud, and turns me on."
David grinned, leaning back and relishing the feel of Joe's chest against his shoulders. "Joe, you're always the `bottom' when we have sex, either playing in leather, or being romantic in bed. Do you ever want to take the other role?"
Joe smiled lovingly. "Never!" he declared. "I'm a total bottom, and I like it that way. And I love it that you are all top. We're a perfect fit, you and I."
Without a word, David swivelled around, and together they fell back onto the sheets, side by side. They kissed, hands reaching for bodies, fingers tracing across skin as they trembled and shook with the beginnings of passion. David rolled onto his side, pushing Joe back, flat on the bed. His mouth attacked Joe's again, then licked at his mate's chin before tracing its way down his neck. David licked and nibbled his way over Joe's chest as Joe sighed with pleasure, his hands roaming over David's back and shoulders, his fingers pushing through David's hair and holding tightly to the beautiful head that attacked his body. When David's moist lips touched the head of Joe's swollen, throbbing cock, Joe gasped. He was so hard he hurt, and David's tongue was so feathery soft. David licked at the slit of Joe's prick, tasting the first droplets of pre-cum that had already appeared, and proceeded to slowly and sensuously lick his way down along the shaft, sending spasms of joy through Joe's frame. He nibbled gently at the rolling nuts in their sack of skin, before taking them right into his mouth and massaging them with his tongue. Joe groaned with delight.
David pressed onwards. Letting Joe's testicles plop from his mouth, he manoeuvered himself around, lifting Joe's legs and gaining access to the tender skin between his legs. David flicked his tongue over the sensitive perinaeum and Joe moaned again. He knew what Joe loved. As his mouth licked and probed at the soft pink pucker of Joe's arse, David marvelled that he and Joe had been able to share so much, in such a short time. Lifting his face away, he leaned forward as Joe wrapped his legs around David's body. Again they kissed as Joe guided David's steel hard prick down to rub along the crack of his arse, and pinched at the skin of David's earlobes. This time David groaned with pleasure. Just as he knew what turned Joe on, Joe knew exactly what to do to get David's blood boiling.
Joe found David's hand with his own, and guided it to the bedside drawer, where a bottle of lube was within easy reach. David applied the cool gel of the lube to his throbbing cock, and smeared more around Joe's hole, massaging it in with his fingers and ensuring his mate's sphincter was liberally coated. Joe lifted his legs again to David's shoulders as David kneeled between them, and slowly nudged his hard, aching prick toward Joe's twitching target. As skin connected with skin, the two men looked deeply into each other's eyes, and nodded.
Joe pushed back against the firmness of David's manhood, willing himself to relax and to accept his lover. He trembled with anticipation, and ached with need as his mate inched inward. With a small grimace of pleasure, Joe felt his own muscle surrender, and David was inside him, the head of the hard thick cock penetrating him as his sphincter clenched around David's glans. He felt David stop and wait as he adjusted to the sensation of being filled, and Joe looked longingly into David's eyes. David began to slide slowly into him, and Joe gasped with joy as his lover's rock hard pole ever so gradually pushed its way into his body.
David struggled to maintain his composure as he breached Joe's hole. Waiting for a second to allow his partner to adjust, and to catch his breath, he ached with the delight of making slow tender love. Pressing forward again, his entire body trembled as his dick probed slowly, gently into Joe's body, the wet heat of his mate's bowel enveloping him and the clamping ring of muscle gripping at the shaft of his weapon.
Finally, David came to rest, the entire length of his masculinity buried deep within Joe. The two men grunted in unison. David leaned forward and down, and Joe lifted his head to meet him, so their mouths met in a long kiss of passionate ecstasy. They remained locked together, joined at the groin and the mouth, for several minutes as they savoured the delight of making love.
With the end of the kiss, David began to move again, slowly withdrawing a little, and pushing back in again. As he did, Joe constricted his sphincter against the flesh of David's pole, gripping at him before relaxing as his lover surged forward. The two soon fell into an easy, gentle rhythm as David moved in and out of Joe, their bodies melding as one. Joe quivered as his arse was massaged and his bowel filled by the warm, powerful sword of David's rod. David for his part trembled in ecstatic pleasure as the hot moist cavern of Joe's innards wrapped around him, caressing his very manhood. Joe and David did more than have sex, they made love. And they rocked together like this for what seemed an eternity, immersed in erotic delight.
But even with the care they took to prolong their loving, and despite their efforts at resting and waiting to allow the growing urges to subside, base instinct overwhelmed each of them. David tingled as the tempo of his insertions increased, his entire being seemed concentrated in the sensual shocks generated within his cock. Joe too felt the waves of pleasure sweep up and over him, an irresistible sensation that emanated from his rectum, and sent notes of impassioned need through the rest of his body. Faster and faster David thrust, harder and harder his body pumped into his lover. Soon he was pounding his long, fleshy dagger deep into Joe, plugging his partner with a ferocity born of uninhibited passion. Joe's legs were wrapped around David's back, and he used the leverage to pull his man deeper and deeper into himself, humping up at David in rampant need as they sweated and gasped together, forming a single writhing being, the embodiment of masculine sex. They moaned and hissed as one, rutting furiously, fucking each other. David fell forward, his palms behind Joe's shoulders as he tried to pull his lover further onto himself, tried to bury his pole more deeply in the squelching, gripping cavity of Joe's being. Joe's arms were trapped by his sides, but his hands found the firm round orbs of David's butt, and he squeezed and pulled at his man, desperately trying to take all of David within his aching, needing body.
David knew his climax was approaching fast. He tried to hold back, but the demands of nature were pushing him to the brink. His nuts contracted and his cock swelled within the sheath of Joe's arse. He began to shout a warning, but his voice was cut off as pure ecstasy engulfed him. Joe heard the strangled cry from his mate at the very moment that his body spasmed with surrender and his balls emptied their precious load. He felt David go rigid within him as his cock exploded, long thick streamers of cum shooting between the trembling bodies, and coating both of them in white hot globs of manjuice. David watched with a detached, glazed look as Joe's jism poured from his long throbbing prick. His own masculinity, sunk so far inside this beautiful man, ached and twitched as he filled Joe's body with his essence, a torrent of ejaculate flowing from him and into the already heated cavern of Joe's bowel. As one, their orgasms crashed upon them, shook them both with the ultimate joy of release, and locked them together. And together, they began to subside. Suddenly, exhaustion took over, and David collapsed onto Joe's sweating frame, his now spent cock still lodged in his lover's hole, as Joe went limp beneath him, his energy sapped.
Their lips found each other again, and this time their kiss lingered, drawn out and tender as they slowly disentangled themselves. Lying side by side again, arms around each other, they relaxed in the warm afterglow of post-coital bliss, the sated joy of sharing the most intimate of experiences.
Finally, David broke the silence. Lifting his head to rest on his hand, he looked down at Joe's smiling face. "I love you," he said quietly. "I want you to know that I don't really think of you as my `slave boy'. You are all man, and I'm just so happy that you're mine."
"I know," Joe answered. "I love you too. And for the record, I love being your `boy', stud."
... to be continued
This story is a fantasy, it is not real and only happened in my imagination. YOU MUST REMEMBER that in the real world, you can DIE from having unsafe sex. It is your right and your duty to make sure that condoms are always used, whether you are giving or receiving. It doesn't matter how good looking or how ugly he is, and it doesn't matter whether you are top or bottom, USE A CONDOM!