Blind to Love

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.

Blind To Love

Iainlthr@hotmail.com

Nick was beside himself, jumping up and down with excitement. Not an unusual situation for him to be in. The dark headed, olive skinned young man had a tendency to get carried away over the smallest thing, so when he raced to Ian ready to burst with news, his friend took little notice.

"I've found him, I've found him," Nick exclaimed as he grabbed Ian's arm, tugging at his shirt to get attention.

Ian slowly looked to his friend, relinquishing the eye contact he had made with a tall dark man across the room, and calmly, almost bored, focussed his attention on his demanding mate.

"Found who?" he asked, trying to seem interested.

"Him! Mr Right!" Nick grinned. "Come and see, he's gorgeous!"

Ian allowed himself to be dragged along, to a corner of the bar where Nick hunched to his friend's ear and pointed, none too subtly, to a tall blond. "Isn't he stunning?" he hissed, grinning wildly.

"What's his name?" Ian asked.

"I don't know," said Nick quickly, his face becoming indignant. "We haven't met yet."

"Have you even spoken to him?"

"Er, no, not yet. I'm just waiting for the right time ..."

Ian rolled his eyes. "For heaven sake, Nick. Has he even bothered to look at you yet? He may be with someone, or he may not be interested at all. Or he might be a serial killer for that matter!"

As he spoke, Ian looked at the object of his friend's desire. There was no denying he was an attractive man. Wide shoulders and thick arms filled out a tight t-shirt, and a shock of blond hair topped a tanned face. But Ian knew what Nick was like -- instant love was what he was looking for, and the chances of finding it here were pretty remote. He hadn't even approached this man yet, and already he was hearing wedding bells. Would Nick never learn? Ian felt yet again the strange pangs that twisted his stomach whenever his best friend latched onto a new man. He couldn't explain the feeling, or even identify it, but it happened every time.

The two had been friends forever. They had grown up together, had explored their awakening sexuality with each other and knew they were both gay without ever having to examine their feelings or agonise over coming out. Almost identical in age, they told each other everything, and yet they were as different as two people could be. Nick was slim, thin even, tall but slight; dark haired, of Mediterranean heritage, and easily excited. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and was emotionally mercurial. His mood could, and often did, change in a split second, and everyone who knew him knew exactly what he was thinking. And his sole purpose in life seemed to be to find himself a husband and settle down.

Ian, on the other hand, was fair skinned and naturally blond. Not albino blond, but the light colouring was definitely natural, as a number of his sexual partners had remarked with surprise. He was slow to speak, choosing his words carefully, and kept his inner thoughts very much to himself. It took a lot to get him angry or excited, but when he did, it also took a long while for him to calm down again.

The music changed, and Nick took a deep breath. "That's it, I'm gonna ask him to dance," he said, making up his mind and heading toward the object of his admiration. Ian sighed, and turned to watch, hoping for success, but expecting the usual rejection and subsequent heartache that he had nursed his friend through so many times before.

As Ian's eyes followed Nick around the bar, he thought to himself how much Nick meant to him. They had never been lovers as such, apart from playing around when they were very young, but somehow they were more than just friends. They told each other everything about their various attempts at finding love, and helped each other get over the inevitable pain of broken relationships, although if Ian had thought about it carefully he would have realised that he had come to Nick's aid far more often than the reverse.

Nick approached the man of his (current) dreams with ebbing confidence. It had seemed like a good idea to ask him to dance back in the safety of Ian's company, but as he got closer his doubts surfaced. But it was too late now to back away.

"Hi," he said, trying to sound bright. "I'm Nick." He held out his hand in greeting, and the man took it tentatively.

"John," he said, disinterestedly.

"How about a dance, handsome?" Nick pressed on.

John's face twisted into something between a smile and a grimace, and he nodded non-committally. Nick led the way onto the floor and John followed, looking up and down at Nick's frame, sizing him up. They faced each other and writhed to the music for five minutes or so, as Nick concentrated on trying to catch John's attention. John, however, seemed to be far more interested in the other guys on the floor, or on trying to catch his own reflection in the mirrors that surrounded them, than in Nick. As the music faded for the end of one number, and before it could build again, John turned and walked back to the bar where he had been standing before. Nick followed close behind, almost like a puppy, thought Ian as he watched from a distance.

"Not your kind of music?" Nick commented as his potential new friend came to a stop.

"S'alright ..." John responded.

"Tired out, are you? Big day, eh?" Nick persisted.

"Nah."

"You want a drink?" Nick's voice began to show his dwindling hope as John feigned lack of interest in anything he said.

The big man finally turned to face Nick directly. "Listen, mate," he said quietly. "You're probably a nice guy, and I guess you could be good company, but I'm really not interested."

Nick's face fell. He tried one more time. "But how do you know unless you give me a chance?" he pleaded, silently cursing the give-away tremble in his voice.

"You're just not my type," said John simply.

"Well, what is your type?"

The well-built John sighed. "You're too skinny. Get some beef, do some workouts. You look like you'll snap in a strong wind."

Nick said nothing more. He turned away quickly, trying to hide the tears welling up. Ian had watched the exchange, had seen his friend's face fall, and knew the signs. As Nick stumbled toward him, Ian went to catch him up, throwing his arm over Nick's shoulder.

"C'mon, mate," Ian said soothingly. "It's not the end of the world. Let's get out of here and have a coffee." He led his friend through the throng and out onto the street, finding a cafe and grabbing a table on the footpath.

"It's okay," said Ian quietly. "He wasn't worth getting upset about."

"Yes he was!" insisted Nick. "He was beautiful, and polite, it was me who didn't measure up ..."

Ian shook his head in disbelief. "Nick, how can you think that? You spoke to the guy for all of five minutes and he turned you down. No-one can get to know someone that quick. Forget him."

"No," sobbed Nick. "He is the one for me, I just know it. He told me to build myself up, to get some muscle. And he's right. I need to start working out, join a gym and get fit. Then he'll want me, I know it!"

"You're crazy!" Ian couldn't believe his friend was serious. "You're going to change your whole life for someone you don't know, who you have hardly even spoken to? For god's sake Nick, get real!"

Nick answered with a vengeance that surprised his friend. "I am real, and I am going to do it! It's about time I improved myself, and this is just the motivation I need. You'll see! When I'm done, John will want me as much as I want him."

Ian looked hard at Nick, still not able to believe that he was serious. "Alright," he said slowly, "if you want to get fit, then I'll join you and we'll both do it. But do it for yourself, for your own self respect, not just for some dumb shit who won't remember you tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Nick said casually. Ian knew what he was thinking, but hoped that time would bring some common sense, and besides, getting fit wouldn't be a bad idea after all.

A few days later, Ian was surprised to find that Nick had not lost the enthusiasm of that night for working out. He was still determined to build himself up and to impress the guy from the bar. So together they wandered into one of the gyms near where Nick lived, and signed up for a membership. The usual new member evaluation session concluded with Nick declaring that he wanted bulging arms and thighs, a washboard stomach, and chiselled pecs. Ian, for his part, simply stated that he wanted to get fit and put on a little bulk, and they were recommended to the same regimen of exercises and workouts as each other.

Over the next few months, the two friends kept at the programme religiously. Well, Ian kept at it religiously, and made sure that Nick followed him along. More times than Ian cared to admit, Nick protested against another workout, or claimed some undefined ache or illness, but Ian refused to listen, dragging his friend into the gym and reminding him that it was Nick's idea to build up. Ian tried not to remind Nick about John, the guy from the bar who had unknowingly started all of this, but somehow, Nick just wouldn't let go of the idea that he was going to impress John into falling for him as soon as Nick re-appeared with his all new and improved bod! Ian had serious reservations about that prospect, but at the same time he could see a very real improvement in both Nick's and his own health and fitness, so he kept his opinions to himself and kept pushing Nick into the exercises.

Before long, the continual workouts began to show results. Nick's upper arms were certainly becoming noticeable knots of taut muscle, and his chest was expanding nicely, the muscle building up and stretching his olive skin to form desirable mounds of pectoral excellence. Ian too, was developing very nicely, his abdomen showing the ridges of trained muscle, his thighs rippling beneath the tight lycra shorts he preferred to wear. More than once he was the subject of admiring stares from other guys in the gym, but he failed to notice them, concentrating as always on his best friend, making sure Nick kept at the weights and the aerobics. He felt good in himself, but Ian saved his admiration for Nick's developing physique, complimenting him on the progress he was making, and quietly enjoying the improving view his mate's body provided with the passing weeks.

And still Nick rabbited on whenever they took a chance to sit and talk, about John. John this, John that. Ian tried to remind him that John and he had so far engaged in conversation for a total of ten minutes, and had one short and not too successful dance together, but Nick seemed convinced that John and he were practically engaged, and Ian's heart sank yet again, as the pangs of unidentified fear and concern gnawed at him more and more often.

One afternoon, almost six months after they had joined the gym together, Ian wandered into the changing room a little late. For a change, Nick had actually arrived on his own and ahead of time, and was already stripped out of his street clothes. Ian glanced into the locker area, and found himself presented with a magnificent view of Nick's naked body. Without thinking, Ian stopped, and let his eyes roam over the manly form as Nick rummaged in his locker. Nick's arms were strong and thick, his chest tight, the dark round skin of his nipples perched on the edge of pecs that were invitingly hard. Ian's eyes continued to feast on the sight of Nick's sculpted abs, and the rippling muscles of his pumped thighs. As Nick turned towards him, still looking down, Ian took a long, desiring look at the thick tube of uncut flesh between Nick's legs, swinging free as its owner searched for his jockstrap. Suddenly Ian felt a twitch in his groin, the surprising and unexpected ache of arousal brought on by the sight of Nick, naked and close.

Ian coughed, a bolt of electricity shooting through him as he panicked at what had happened. He and Nick were best friends, mates, buddies. He couldn't be attracted to Nick sexually! It would be like incest, or worse.

Nick heard the cough from his friend, and looked up quickly, breaking into a grin.

"Hey, slowcoach. You ready for a session yet?" he laughed.

"Uh, yeah, `course," Ian stammered, his head a confusion of emotions and thoughts at what had just happened to him.

The two went about their usual routine, but Ian had trouble concentrating as he tried to sort out his inner feelings. Nick failed to notice, and chatted on happily as they strained at the weights and swung into the aerobic exercises. Finally, Ian was brought back to earth when Nick stopped altogether, faced him squarely, and announced loudly: "You haven't heard a thing I've said all afternoon, have you?"

Ian looked up guiltily, as heads turned toward them. Off to a side, one of the regulars commented in a loud whisper "typical married couple!", and several others stifled laughs.

"Sorry, mate," Ian apologised. "I was a million miles away."

"I thought so," said Nick, grinning. "I asked you if you were doing anything Friday night? I want to go back to the bar where I met John, I think it's about time I showed him the new me, what do you think?"

Ian's face fell yet again, and another of those mysterious pangs made his stomach turn. "Yeah, sure," he answered.

"What, no lecture, no warning about how I shouldn't get my hopes up?" Nick laughed, the surprise evident in his eyes.

"Nah," Ian grinned, recovering his composure. "I've told you often enough now. You're big enough and ugly enough to get yourself into trouble if you want to." With that he pushed at his friend. "Come on, handsome, let's get to it!"

"Handsome, eh?" Nick mocked him. "You ain't so bad looking yourself, stud!" he commented, looking at Ian as if for the first time, with admiration in his eyes. "Maybe, I should forget about John and race you off to bed!" he laughed.

Nick almost choked, the colour draining from his face at the words. He turned away quickly so that his expression wouldn't give him away, and covered with a quick snort. "As if I'd have you!" he muttered loudly, hoping Nick hadn't seen his initial reaction. As a result, he didn't see the fleeting cloud of doubt which passed across Nick's face as the possibility of what he had said sunk home. But Nick dismissed it quickly, and turned his mind again to the dream of his long awaited and anticipated meeting with John.

Friday came far too quickly for Ian's liking, but he steeled himself for the inevitable, and together he and Nick entered the bar. Ian found a quiet spot and ordered them both a drink, while Nick bounced around with excitement, scanning the faces for his Mr Right. Ian begged Nick to take it easy, not to get his hopes up, but nothing he could say had any effect on his friend. About half an hour after they arrived, John showed up, and Nick almost fell off his stool with excitement. "For God's sake, Nick, don't throw yourself at him," Ian remonstrated to Nick's back as he disappeared into the crowd, making for the spot where John leaned against the bar.

But the workouts and the exercising seemed to have paid off. Ian watched quietly as Nick and John talked, and he could see that John was interested this time, taking notice of Nick's new physique and paying attention to him right from the start. With a sinking heart and a new churning in his stomach, Ian stood, lost in a kind of masochistic voyeurism as Nick and John danced and chatted, and began to get very friendly right there in the bar, hands groping over each other's bodies. When Nick tore himself away from his new friend, and hurried over to Ian to announce that he and John were going home together, and would Ian be okay to get home alone?, Ian's head spun, and he felt as though he had been kicked in the gut.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he nodded to his mate, and Nick disappeared again. Ian watched them leave, hand in hand, and suddenly he wanted to be anywhere but there. He left the place as fast as possible, and wandered slowly home, a sick feeling in his stomach, and an ache in his head. Why did he feel like this? He had never before been so concerned when Nick had gone home with another man. It was Nick's life after all, and he could do whatever he wanted. Ian was his friend, not his mother, so why did he feel this way? Suddenly, Ian felt more lonely than he had ever felt before, and he didn't know why, or what to do about it.

Nick was ecstatic. All his dreams were coming true. John had looked impressed as soon as he'd seen him, had complimented him on his build. They'd danced for ages, smiled at each other, and John had insisted on hearing all about Nick's workout regime, commenting on some things, suggesting other things Nick could do to keep building up, or to improve definition. John had copped a squeeze of Nick's buns, and asked if he would like to go home. Nick grinned stupidly. He had done it. He was going home with his `Mr Right'. All the hours of sweat and strain had been worth it.

When they got to John's place, Nick looked around, expecting an offer of coffee, or a chance to sit and talk some more. The place was a mess, clothes strewn around the rooms, dirty dishes on benchtops and balancing precariously on the sink. Nick looked for a place to sit, but John was having none of that. "C'mon, man," he hissed, leading Nick straight into the bedroom, where he quickly began to fumble at Nick's belt, trying to strip the clothes from him with little finesse and even less sensuality.

Ignoring the lack of preliminaries, Nick followed John's lead, and they were soon naked. John's hands pawed at Nick, squeezing his arms and massaging his butt, running up and down his abdomen. Nick moved to pull John toward him, leaning in to kiss the handsome blond, but John pulled back and breathed deeply, "You look great, man," he said. "That bod is really shaping up. A bit more time and effort, and you'll be a real stud!"

Nick looked shocked at the comment, but realised John had intended it as a compliment, and he smiled uneasily.

"Let's get into bed," John said quickly, throwing the covers off, and diving onto the mattress as he did. He lay back and motioned for Nick to join him, and Nick looked down at the inviting body, just waiting for him. There was something familiar about John now that Nick had a chance to take a long appraising look -- he reminded him of someone else, but he just couldn't think who. Nick happily slid into bed, snuggling close to John, his arms reaching out to embrace the muscled blond form beside him. But John was not in the mood for a slow build-up or tender foreplay.

"Come on, man," he grinned, pulling Nick over on top of himself and wriggling underneath. "Let's fuck!"

Nick was discomfited by the directness of John's approach, and the lack of preliminaries. "Don't I get a hug, or even a kiss first?" he pouted.

"What? Oh, how about next time, stud?" John hissed. "Right now I just want you to have sex with me. I want to feel your pumped up body against mine, and I want your cock inside me, you hunk!" John gasped. He was already so excited, his cock engorged and throbbing, that Nick thought for a moment that John would probably start without him if he waited any longer!

Despite the reservations he felt, Nick was quickly aroused. The sight of John lying there below him, begging Nick to make love to him, was more than enough to stimulate his desire. He quickly rolled a condom down over his swollen penis, smearing lube onto himself and around John's arse. With the man of his dreams writhing below him, urging him on, Nick leaned forward, and his cock entered John's sphincter with little resistance, pushing through the knot of muscle and slipping inwards quickly. Nick tried to ease himself into the man below, but John gave a strangled sound and humped backward, driving Nick's cock deep into his bowels. As Nick began to thrust at the writhing body, trying to find a rhythm, John's legs wrapped around his back and pulled him down hard, as John lurched against his partner, forcing Nick to fuck at him quickly. Muttering urgent pleas, John bucked and squirmed under the somewhat bemused Nick, humping against Nick's throbbing tool and clenching at him with his sphincter.

Nick tried to slow the pace a little, tried to inject some tenderness into the sex, but John seemed almost impatient with him, calling out in a guttural voice, "Fuck me, man, pound that cock into me. Harder, harder, I want you to really fuck me!" Nick tried to oblige, but nothing he did seemed to satisfy John, and Nick felt somehow at a loss in the midst of what should have been his most wonderful moment. Suddenly, John grabbed at Nick with both arms, and rolled over, keeping Nick buried within him as they reversed positions, so that Nick now lay flat on his back and John knelt over him, Nick's prong still tightly clutched within John's anus.

As he gained the upper position, John began to use his own weight to drive himself down onto Nick, then lift off again before slamming his body harder against the upright prong below him. He trembled in the throes of passion, his hands flat against Nick's washboard stomach, or pushing into the muscles of Nick's chest as he fucked himself on the younger man below him. Suddenly, without warning, John went rigid, his body tensing and his hands fell to his own cock as he jerked at himself, hard and fast. Within seconds a stream of jism flew from his prick and smattered over Nick's stomach and chest, as John's arse clamped tight around Nick's manhood. Almost as quickly as he started, John finished himself, and lifted his body away from Nick, smiling a look of satisfaction. He turned and pulled the condom from Nick, and wrapped his palm around the young man's prick, yanking and pulling at him until Nick finally came, a half-hearted spray of juice leaving his cockhead and smearing over John's hand.

Instantly, John was up and off the bed, reaching for a towel as he wiped first himself and then, almost as an afterthought, Nick, clean. "Thanks, Rick," he said, "that was fantastic."

Nick lay there stunned. He could have cried. "Nick," he said. "My name's Nick, not Rick."

"Oh, sorry about that, Nick. But you were great, man."

Nick bit back the urge to comment that he was surprised John had even noticed. His physical needs had been satisfied, more or less, but he felt empty, used and wanting. He brightened when John came back into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, his hand resting lightly on Nick's stomach. Maybe now there would be time for the romance Nick craved. John's next words hammered into his head like so many thunderbolts.

"So, man, you okay to get home? Or would you like me to call you a taxi?"

Nick looked at John with contempt this time. He fought the tears welling up inside. "There's no need for you to call me anything!" he declared, a hiss in his voice. In a blind rage, he grabbed at his clothes, pulling them on haphazardly, and stormed out of the place, slamming the door as hard as he could manage as he left. He had no idea whether John had said another word to him, and no desire to find out.

On the street, the whole scene re-playing in his head, Nick crumpled onto a bench, and sobbed his heart out. He was shattered, lost, and as if by instinct he made his way toward the one person who always understood, who always picked up the pieces and got him back together again -- Ian.

Ian wasn't asleep when the knocking started at his door. When he left the bar, he'd gone home feeling more alone than he ever remembered. He had tried watching some TV, then picked up a book before putting it down again. Hopping into bed, he had tossed and turned for an hour, as pictures kept coming to his mind of Nick and John together, kissing and hugging, making love with each other. He had tried to ignore the images, tried to tell himself it meant nothing to him, but he was jealous as hell. How could Nick possibly have gone home with that fool, he asked himself? And then the realisation hit him. He attempted to convince himself it wasn't true, but deep in his heart he knew it was -- he was in love with Nick. He had no reason to be, and no right to feel this way, but he did. Ian ached with the knowledge, and his heart felt as if it were breaking.

And then Nick was there at his door! For a split second Ian didn't see the tears, or the dishevelled clothing, just Nick, staring into his eyes. He lunged forward and threw his arms around his friend, holding him tight. His prayers had been answered.

Nick began to sob. "Oh, Ian, it was awful. How could I have ever thought he was the one."

It occurred to Ian that Nick was upset. His protective instincts kicked in. "Nick, Nick, are you okay? What happened? Did he hurt you?" Ian pulled Nick inside the flat, closing the door quickly, concern and rising anger in his voice.

"No, not like that," Nick stuttered. "But he just wanted sex. I feel so dirty, so stupid." Again, Nick broke down in sobs, as Ian held him tight. Together they sat on the sofa, Nick's head buried in Ian's chest, his body wrapped in Ian's arms. Ian cooed at him softly.

"It's okay, man. You're okay now. He wasn't worth it. Just relax, get it out of your system."

Locked together, they rocked slowly back and forth on the lounge. Nick cried himself to sleep, while Ian held the man he now knew he loved, gently caressing the soft hair and wishing away his worries.

When Nick woke the next morning he was still lying with his head on Ian's lap, and his friend was asleep sitting up on the sofa. He sat upright, and the memories of the previous night flooded back. His movement woke Ian, who looked at him with an unusual stare.

"How are you feeling now?" Ian asked quietly.

"Better, I guess," was Nick's slow response. "Ian, I'm so sorry. You were right all along and I wouldn't listen. He was awful, he didn't want me, he just wanted a body, preferably with muscles, to have sex with. He wouldn't even kiss me ..." Nick began to sniffle again as he tried to regain control of his emotions.

"It's okay," Ian replied. "So you made a mistake! We all do. Just forget him. At least you've got one hell of a hot bod now to attract the guys." He laughed softly as he spoke, trying to get Nick to brighten up. "Why don't you go and get into bed, try to get some more sleep. I'm going to have a shower, and then if you're still awake, I'll make us some breakfast."

Nick nodded absently to Ian's suggestion, and did as he was told, lying on Ian's bed. He tossed and turned, unable to get any more sleep, as he heard the running water of his mate's shower from the bathroom. To his mind came the memory of a couple of things that Ian had said lately. He remembered Ian had called him handsome the other afternoon in the gym, and he could swear now that Ian had blushed when he'd called him a stud and made some joke about rushing him off to bed. He thought about Ian's comment just a few minutes ago about Nick having a great bod. He puzzled over what it meant, and wondered at the mixed feelings he had himself about John, and Ian.

As he lay there, Ian walked into the room, towelling his hair dry. With another towel around his waist, and his arms up to his face, Ian stood only a metre from where Nick lay on the bed. Nick looked long and hard at his friend, and for the first time noticed that Ian too had developed a great physique as a result of the months of workouts. His arms bulged, the muscles flexing as he rubbed at his head. His abs were cut and clear, standing out under his taut, fair skin. Ian's chest was a classic sculpture of perfection. With his blond hair, he looked like ... like John! Nick suddenly realised, with surprise. Like John but better, somehow. He continued to stare, as Ian finished his drying and looked down at the wide eyed man on his bed.

"You okay?" he asked, seeing a strange look of revelation on Nick's face.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Nick assured him as Ian sat down on the side of the bed, his hand resting on Nick's shoulder in a subconscious gesture of concern. As he did, Nick sat upright, so that they were side by side, facing each other. Ian looked to Nick questioningly, and Nick returned the stare for a moment as he reached a decision in his head. Suddenly, quickly, Nick leaned forward and kissed Ian's lips, his hand falling to Ian's leg where he slowly caressed the soft skin, fresh and clean from its shower.

Ian's first reaction to the kiss was one of shock, but he didn't pull away. The surprise quickly turned into delight as they held the kiss, lips opening and tongues making tentative forays into each other's mouth, and the delight grew into arousal as Ian felt tingles race through him with the touch of Nick's hand on his leg. Ian's hand slipped from Nick's shoulder, to trace along his ribs and across his belly, and the kiss increased in intensity as they began to explore teeth and gums, to taste each other and revel in the wonder of newly discovered feelings. After an eternity, they finally broke the kiss, separating slightly and looking deeply into each other's eyes. A smile spread slowly across both faces as the two men allowed themselves to acknowledge what had happened, and to accept that it was right.

Without a word, Ian swivelled around, and together they fell back onto the sheets, side by side. They kissed again, hands reaching for bodies, fingers tracing across skin as they trembled and shook with the beginnings of passion. Nick rolled onto his side, pushing Ian back, flat on the bed. His mouth attacked Ian's again, then licked at his mate's chin before tracing its way down his neck. Nick licked and nibbled his way over Ian's chest as Ian sighed with pleasure, his hands roaming over Nick's back and shoulders, his fingers pushing through Nick's hair and holding tightly to the beautiful head that attacked his body. When Nick's moist lips touched the head of Ian's swollen, throbbing cock, Ian gasped. He was so hard he hurt, and Nick's tongue was so feathery soft. Nick licked at the slit of Ian'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 Ian's frame. He nibbled gently at the rolling nuts in their sac of skin, before taking them right into his mouth and massaging them with his tongue. Ian groaned with delight.

Nick pressed onwards. Letting Ian's testicles plop from his mouth, he manoeuvered himself around, lifting Ian's legs and gaining access to the tender skin between his legs. Nick flicked his tongue over the sensitive perinaeum and Ian moaned again. He knew what Ian loved. Hadn't they told each other everything about what they liked and what they didn't so many times? As his mouth licked and probed at the soft pink pucker of Ian's arse, Nick marvelled that he and Ian had been able to share so much, and yet failed to realise that they were the perfect couple. Lifting his face away, he leaned forward as Ian wrapped his legs around Nick's body. Again they kissed as Ian guided Nick's steel hard prick down to rub along the crack of his arse, and pinched at the skin of Nick's earlobes. This time Nick groaned with pleasure. Just as he knew what turned Ian on, Ian knew exactly what to do to get Nick's blood boiling.

Ian found Nick's hand with his own, and guided it to the bedside drawer, where a bottle of lube was within easy reach. Still soundless, apart from the occasional sighs and moans of pleasure, their eyes met again, a smiling recognition of what was happening, and acknowledgement that they both wanted it. Nick applied the cool gel of the lube to his throbbing cock, and smeared more around Ian's hole, massaging it in with his fingers and ensuring his mate's sphincter was liberally coated. Ian lifted his legs again to Nick's shoulders as Nick kneeled between them, and slowly nudged his hard, aching prick toward Ian's twitching target. As skin connected with skin, the two men looked deeply into each other's eyes, and nodded. There was no need for prophylactics here. Each knew the other was HIV negative, both knew exactly what they had done sexually. They knew everything about each other, except this long hidden feeling for one another.

Ian pushed back against the firmness of Nick's manhood, willing himself to relax and to accept his friend. He trembled with anticipation, and ached with need as his mate inched inward. With a small grimace of pain/pleasure, Ian felt his own muscle surrender, and Nick was inside him, the head of the hard dark cock penetrating him as his sphincter clenched around Nick's glans. He felt Nick stop and wait as he adjusted to the sensation of being filled, and Ian looked longingly into Nick's eyes. Nick began to slide slowly into him, and Ian gasped with joy as his lover's rock hard pole ever so gradually pushed its way into his body. He marvelled at the indescribable pleasure of having Nick enter him like this. The unbelievable sensation of a naked cock, free of the confining latex that safety normally required, assaulting his arse was amazing, but even more incredible was the joy of having the man that he loved make love to him. Ian was no virgin, but this was like his first time, yet so much better.

Nick struggled to maintain his composure as he breached Ian's hole for the first time. 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, slowly into Ian'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. Nick had expected that sex without a condom would be different, but this was fantastic, and he felt so much more aroused, found the sensations so much more erotic because the man below him was someone he loved with all his heart.

Finally, Nick came to rest, the entire length of his masculinity buried deep within Ian. The two men grunted in unison as the enormity of their coupling, and the joy of their union, struck home. Nick leaned forward and down, and Ian 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 truly making love.

With the end of the kiss, Nick began to move again, slowly withdrawing a little, and pushing back in again. As he did, Ian constricted his sphincter against the flesh of Nick's pole, gripping at him before relaxing as his lover surged forward. The two soon fell into an easy, gentle rhythm as Nick moved in and out of Ian, their bodies melding as one. Ian quivered as his arse was massaged and his bowel filled by the warm, powerful sword of Nick's rod. Nick for his part trembled in ecstatic pleasure as the hot moist cavern of Ian's innards wrapped around him, caressing his very manhood. Ian and Nick 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. Nick tingled as the tempo of his insertions increased, his entire being seemed concentrated in the sensual shocks generated within his cock. Ian 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 Nick thrust, harder and harder his body pumped into his lover. Soon he was pounding his long, fleshy dagger deep into Ian, plugging his partner with a ferocity born of uninhibited passion. Ian's legs were wrapped around Nick's back, and he used the leverage to pull his man deeper and deeper into himself, humping up at Nick 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. Nick fell forward, his palms behind Ian'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 Ian's being. Ian's arms were trapped by his sides, but his hands found the firm round orbs of Nick's butt, and he squeezed and pulled at his man, desperately trying to take all of Nick within his aching, needing body.

Nick 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 Ian's arse. He began to shout a warning, but his voice was cut off as pure ecstasy engulfed him. Ian 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 Nick 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. Nick watched with a detached, glazed look as Ian's jism poured from his long throbbing prick. His own masculinity, sunk so far inside this beautiful man, ached and twitched as he filled Ian's body with his essence, a torrent of ejaculate flowing from him and into the already heated cavern of Ian'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 Nick collapsed onto Ian's sweating frame, his now spent cock still lodged in his lover's hole, as Ian 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 experience two people can know.

Finally, Nick broke the silence. Lifting his head to rest on his hand, he looked down at Ian's smiling face. "I love you," he said quietly.

"I know," replied Ian. "And I love you. I always have, I just didn't realise it until last night."

"Thank you, John!" Nick said in whisper. Ian looked shocked.

"John?!? That bastard?"

"Uh huh," replied Nick. "If it wasn't for him looking so much like you, but at the same time being such a shit, then I might never have found my Mr Right. All these years I've been looking for the perfect man, and you've been right here the whole time. How could I have missed it?"

"Well, my love," Ian said, then stopped. " `my love' -- I like the sound of that. Well, my love, I guess we were both blind to love, but our eyes are open now, and I'm not letting you get away!"

Nick simply smiled, and leaned forward again, kissing his man. Together they rolled back onto the bed, both lost in the joy of true happiness.

The End

Comments, complaints or compliments? Contact me at iainlthr@hotmail.com

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!