The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, cease reading now and depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind always to practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
Patrick Young ClayCub51@Yahoo.com
Clay Chapter 10 "Moorings Secured"
Claire stepped from the cab and looked toward the Capitol. What a beautiful city Washington is!' she mused. We're so lucky to be here.' She strode through the door to La Colline to the impeccably-dressed man at the podium.
"Bon soir, madame," Guido greeted her, his toothy smile bright. "'Ea va?"
"'Ea va bien, merc', monsieur," she replied. "I am meeting my husband and friends for dinner. Do you have a reservation for Clay Grant?"
The ebullient little Swiss scanned his book in an instant. "Non, madame, I have no Grant on my list. Would there be another name?" He flashed the famous Gerometti charm that had merited "Waiter of the Year" by Washingtonian magazine six years running until he was bumped up to Maitre d' Extrordinaire, his pale blue eyes all- knowing.
"We're meeting Evan Wilds and his guest. I don't know who actually made the call," she countered.
"Ah, messieurs Atwell and Wilds! Of course, madame, Mr. Grant just arrived and has gone to the bar. Please, madame, may I show you?" the master of decorum sang. He bustled down the corridor to his left.
The bar was packed with blue power suits, both panted and skirted. Claire immediately honed in on a set of broad shoulders under dark blond curls in the center. "Ah, there he is. Thank you so much." She took Guido's hand and smiled warmly. His response was a batted eye, a quick peck to the back of her hand, a quiet "Bon appetit, madame; enjoy your evening!" and an unaffected disappearance.
Claire approached a familiar linen jacket and slid her hand around the taut abdomen under crisply starched broadcloth, nuzzling through the golden curls to nip the left earlobe. `God, I love the scent of JHL on him,' she thought, a twinge of hot moisture between her thighs. He jumped and squeaked in delight. "Hey, you," she chuckled.
"Hey, yourself," was the reply in a different timbre than she expected. `Is he getting a cold?' she flashed, then froze as the big guy turned full face with his arm claiming her, pulling her tightly into him. It wasn't her husband! She blanched, then turned crimson as her eyes flew wide at the sight of a stranger, yet very familiar. A gasp escaped her throat, "Oh!" She scanned the disparities: eyes a golden green-brown, not bright emerald; brows lighter and arched, not heavy and thick, but identical in color; nose a tad broad and upturned, not quite as rounded or long; lips, well, the full lips were certainly the same, though the sparkling white teeth flashed symmetrically into a perfect smile, not slightly crooked in the expected impish, wry curl.
"You MUST be Claire," the cute hunk giggled, immediately reading her gape. "I'd know you anywhere. Clay's got such class."
"Ahh, ... you're ... he said ... you look so much like ..." she stammered, blushing brighter.
"Hi! I'm Warren." He took her waist in his strong hands, centering her. "So he told you about me! That's a good start," the bug guy said. The perfect smile flashed anew. He leaned in for a very continental peck on each cheek. "Welcome!" He stroked her left hip. She jumped. He claimed her hand. She relaxed into the warm strength as his eyes danced over her flustered expression.
"I'm sorry," she began, her other hand flying up to her mouth, "I'm so embarrassed..."
Warren laughed heartily. "Don't be, Claire. I'm very pleased to meet you. You're just as beautiful as Clay described you."
"Why, thank you, Warren. He's earned many points with that comment. You're ... my God, you COULD be twins! You even smell like him. I'd never have believed it," she almost whispered.
"I'm sure he'll enjoy collecting those points, too," he replied, looking over her shoulder, "won't you, stud?"
A second set of hands slid around her waist, as a noisy smotch landed just under her ear. "Won't I what? Pound you into the floor for cannoodling with my wife in public, you good-looking masher?" the right voice growled from behind her with a familiar chuckle. "Maybe we ought to let her decide that. Is this big beast bothering my bride? Want me to take him out for you, honey?"
Claire broke into a giggle as she relaxed back into her husband's strong arms. "Gosh, I haven't started a brawl in a while. This could be a fun night after all. Now, how should I set my criteria....?" she bantered coyly.
Warren's bright eyes twinkled playfully. "Can I offer you some champagne, madame? I was going to order a bottle of Moet et Chandon Brut Imperial, unless you would prefer a very dry martini, with, say, two olives?"
"Oooh, good beginning, temptation with style," Claire said, "I LOVE the Chandon Brut!"
"Yeah, you're pretty smooth, buster. How did you know her favorite bubbly? You got spies around here or something?" Clay cuffed Warren across the shoulder, his eyes narrowing slightly at his rival for Claire's attention.
Warren's warm smile spread broadly. "Seems like the perfect choice for such an occasion, don't you think, my friend? Any objections?" His eyebrow arched, `exactly like Clay's does,' Claire thought as Warren winked at her.
"Oh, no, Warren, that will do quite nicely, won't it, Clay?" she schmoozed back, throwing an elbow into her hubby's ribs.
"OOFF!" he mocked. "Okay, okay, so you've charmed her palate. Round one to you, then," Clay chuckled. "Do I get to join in this revelry, or do I have to buy my own?"
Warren's demeanor was suddenly serious. "This is not a competition, my brother, it's a celebration of our lives." He brought a hand up to squeeze Clay's round shoulder firmly, looking deep into the emerald eyes clearly. "I'd be wounded if I thought you mistook my intentions for anything other than honorable."
Clay read his new friend's face, dead honest and open. "I see that, Warren," he replied quietly. "You can't hide anything on your face either, can you?" He mirrored Warren's gesture, squeezing the strong shoulder. "I never meant to question your heart, believe me."
Claire looked from one face to the other. "I'll vouch for one thing: You both wear your honesty in your eyes." She smiled at them both, then burst out with a laugh. "Why do I suddenly feel like I'm between a set of bookends! And a most handsome set at that!"
The two big blonds looked at her, then at each other, snickered, then landed a wet kiss on each of her cheeks at the same instant. They all melted into a hearty genuine mirth. Warren turned to the bartender. "Jean-Claude, a bottle of Brut Imperial, sil vous plait!"
"Good choice, cub," rumbled a hearty bass at Claire's shoulder. She turned to behold a brilliant smile framed by a wild silvery beard, clear blue eyes dancing as another arm snaked around her waist, intertwining with those already there. "Mmm, mmm, MMMM! another stunning beauty to know. How lucky can a man get in this town?" He winked at Warren, then turned to Clay. "So, cubby, you gonna mind yer manners and introduce me?"
Clay's eyes were suddenly filled with happy tears. "Claire, meet Evan Wilds, my newest compadre. Evan, this is my one-and-only, Claire Grant."
"Call me Corey, Claire. You're family, after all," the resonant bass boomed as he landed a resounding smotch on her cheek, "and I believe in family being on kissin' terms, right cub?" He turned to Warren at his left, grabbed an earlobe and slowly pulled the handsome face into his beard, chewing on the full lips for several hot seconds until they released with a wet smack. Warren's eyes were glassy, half-lidded, his mouth obviously hungry for more, suddenly panting raggedly. "Ahhh! My big, special men!" Corey cooed as he reached for Clay and did exactly the same thing, with very similar results.
Clay gazed into the steel blue eyes sparkling playfully back at him, blinked twice, and blushed as he turned his eyes to his wife's face next to Corey's. She blinked as well, a question mark in her brow. They both looked at Corey, who laughed heartily as he faced Claire. "Quite a man you got there, young lady! Bet you taught him how to kiss like that, too. He better be keeping you happy. I don't put with half-assed marriages in the Circle, you know."
"I ..., I've just never seen him kiss a man before ...," Claire sputtered, looking back at Clay, who squirmed a bit, blushing brighter, "... not like that ..."
Corey didn't miss a beat. "Probably gonna be lots of things you'll get used to seeing him do, Claire, and become damn proud of him doing `em. He's gonna make you famous, you know, the star of Washington's International Bank team AND beloved wife of one of DC's most beloved citizens, before we're through with this project. Are you up for that, my dear?" He looked deeply into Claire's eyes, addressing her heart. "'Cause if I didn't think you both were up to it, I wouldn't ask you to sign on with him. And you're a package deal so far as I'm concerned. I believe in shared loyalties, not divided, right, Clay?"
"Yes, Corey, you certainly do that," Clay answered clearly.
A loud POP interrupted the conversation. "Ahh, that happy sound!" Corey crooned as Jean-Claude filled the flutes lined up on the polished bar, "and the good stuff! Well done!" He reached in and handed them a glass, first to Claire, then to Clay, then one for Warren and himself. He beamed at his cubs, then locked eyes with Claire. "To your future, Claire, and the beautiful man at your side to live it with!" he toasted. All glasses clinked.
"To the future!" echoed the three.
"Mmmmm, I love this champagne!" Claire cooed. "Thank you, Warren."
"Thank your handsome man there, Claire. He made this happen, you know," Warren countered. "I understand you were in New York when he met Corey, or rather Corey discovered him." He beamed at his almost twin, and winked, as Clay let out a guffaw. "Did you hear the story?"
Claire gave Corey a wry look as she sipped her wine. "Well, I'm not sure I believe all of it, but yes, Clay told me he woke up with some mad little muscleman in our bed one night and decided not to kick him out. Is that really how it happened?" Her stony gaze demanded the utter truth from the accused madman.
"Honey, you've gotta know something about me right now: I never back down from getting what I go after, once I've chosen it! And I expect the same from the company I keep." Corey looked at the guys hotly, then back at Claire. "And let me tell you, the night I came back from my trip I wasn't going to be denied a thorough welcome home. Warren had talked about finally coming to live with me, but he hadn't even put his place on the market when I left, so how was I to know he wouldn't be right where I'd left him, and ready for me to surprise him when I showed back up?"
Warren snorted, "Yeah, you kinda ruined MY surprise, too, not letting me know you were coming home early so I could fill you in, Daddyman." His face glowed as he beheld his maestro.
`What is that dynamic about?' Claire wondered, but let it go. "So you really thought you were crawling in bed with your ...? Oh, I'm sorry, that's really none of my business."
Corey jumped right in. "Warren is my partner, and my best friend, and my cub, and my peer, and the love of my life. Our relationship IS your business, Claire. Truth and honesty and openness are essential to what our relationship, indeed all our relationships, are about, and you and Clay will come to trust that. I already told him that there's never a reason for secrets in the Circle. We operate from total honesty, the respect and love we share, and how can any sane person hold back on love without diminishing themselves?"
"I get your point," Claire began, "but I really didn't mean to pry."
"Asking for what you want or what you need to know is not prying, my dear, and only a fool would consider it so," Corey continued. "And this big hunk of love you've got didn't hesitate a second to find out who was wanting to love up on him that night, although he slowed me down when he put that gun in my face."
"Clay! You didn't! I thought you got rid of that thing," Claire barked, her eyes wide.
"I never told you that I would get rid of Dad's .38, Claire, only that I was putting it away," Clay stated coolly. "Isn't that precisely what I agreed to?"
Claire harrumphed, "Well, yes that's how you said it..."
"So it came in rather handy that night, with an intruder in our home, right?" he said quietly. Her eyes quickly softened.
Corey burst into laughter. "And you were real convincing that you could use it, too, cub. I was impressed by your resolve. Cooled me off for a good ten seconds when you turned the light on and we just lay there staring at each other with your pistol up my nose. But one look at that gorgeous man's body, so like my Warren's, and you got me so fired up I had to have you anyway, or die trying!" He turned to Warren, caressed his ear. "Thank God you've got a good-hearted, sexy brother, love, with a cool head and a steady, strong hand, or you'd have buried me by now. And he wouldn't have found you, either. Now, that would have been a damn shame, not to share your lives with us, right?" Corey looked from Clay back to Claire openly.
Claire studied the broad, compact bundle of muscles before her, scanning his features, his energy for evidence of guile. None existed. She squared her shoulders and drew in a deep breath. A bedrock of honesty grounded the swirling pheromones from the three of them that she sensed around her, and safety, and warmth, and power. This was okay, this was right. "I've never thought about having to share him before. I'm not sure what that might mean."
"Let me offer you a concept to consider, Claire," Warren broke in, slowly stroking Clay's shoulder, "one that made a big difference to me when I met Corey. Can you imagine the magic you know is in this man you love being the very thing that brings a great change to our lives, a richness no one had perceived before? If he told you that the hair on his head would turn to magic dust if you, and only you, would shave it for him and then throw it into the wind together? Would you withhold that from him, or from yourself, or from the world?" Her eyebrows pinched into a frown. "Ridiculous? Perhaps, but my point is this: encouraging what's real, what's the truth, honesty, love to be shared IS magic, and my brother Clay is loaded with love, with all that. Otherwise he wouldn't be worthy to be your husband, now would he?"
She shook her head slightly, looking at her mate, hot tears of passion suddenly springing to her eyes. "He's the kindest, most loving man I've ever known."
Corey picked up the conversation smoothly. "Giving your love is the surest way for it to come back to you, Claire. Most faiths teach us exactly that. You see the way Clay looks at you. You know he loves you, right? What if he could love us just that powerfully and never diminish by one iota his love for you? What if, in fact, the more he shared, the more there would be FOR you? I have a knack to know what people are capable of, Claire, and Clay's very special. He's the genuine article: a pure heart, a wellspring of wisdom and kindness, a conduit of clarity and healing. All the things you know and love about him, the reasons you went after him and claimed him. Wouldn't you want him to teach us how to know love like that, too, if the chance to do so became possible?" The hypnotic bass was so compelling, so true. "Would you give him permission to share that with us, Claire, if he asked?"
"Permission?" she spurted. "Why would he need permission from me to be whoever he wants to be? I don't own him."
Clay caressed his wife's face tenderly, turning it squarely to his. "No, and neither do I own you, but I do belong to you, my darling, as you belong to me. We married each other to say to the world whatever we do, we do it together, side by side, freely and honestly. If I am to work with Corey and Warren in the empowerment project, you have to know everything intended in this task, and decide together if this is right for me. Just like I was there for you when you decided to take the job here in Washington, I need you to be with me as I make my decision to take on the project. You have to know what it means to me for you to be my anchor, my love. Otherwise I'll sail off in a direction that means nothing, if I don't have US as why I'm doing it. This isn't just a job, Claire, it's my dream: to make a difference."
Claire considered the face of her man for a few moments, then tenderly claimed his mouth, her fingers tangling in the soft blond curls at his neck. His arms gathered her to him, his crotch suddenly heavy and hot pressing into her voluptuous softness. She felt him grow hard against her, and clutched his thick body, her arm pressed into his broad back as he devoured her tongue. Finally they broke, staring into glazed eyes. She lowered her gaze to his wet full lips, and whispered, "I love you, Clay. You're so special to me," and kissed him again.
The din of the bar slowly invaded Claire's senses. The men surrounding her exuded a pungent heat that suddenly challenged her ability to breathe. She shook her head to clear the air, and nearly succumbed to a swoon. She reached out, the flute in her hand smashing the glass into Warren's jacket. "Oh, I'm sorry" she gasped, but it being empty, nothing had sloshed, no damage done.
Warren leapt off his stool in an instant, maneuvering her to take the seat firmly, took the glass from her hand. "Forgive me, Claire, I'm hogging the bar," he murmured. She sat and clung to Clay's sleeve, his strong arm protecting her from stumbling. Her glance bounced from Corey's bright eyes, past Warren's sweet grin, to Clay's intense face. `God, they're attuned. What a team they make!' she thought.
Corey retrieved her flute from Warren, clutching her hand in his. "Ready for a refill, my dear, or shall we get a little Pellegrino first?" he offered, glancing at a concerned Clay at his right.
Clay assessed the faces of his maestro and brother briefly, sensed their readiness to respond to his cue instantly, then centered on his bride. "What do you need, honey?" he whispered.
A surge of calm, safety, trust spread from her heart to her brain instantly clearing the cobwebs. "More champagne, and if you guys will back off a second, a little oxygen with all this testosterone floating around, dammit," she chirped. Warren and Clay exchanged questioning looks.
Corey broke first, with a laugh. "Damn, girl, I thought it was just me, but they're potent together, aren't they?" He placed the glass on the bar. "Jean-Claude, si'l vous plait?" The champagne appeared instantly.
Claire leveled her stare at Corey, whose eyes were shifting back and forth between the two big men flanking her. The lust in his eyes was unmistakable. Bookends,' she thought, double dip ice cream,' a jolt of hot electricity made her thighs clinch, and he sees it just like I do!' She caught Corey's glance, held it, read it, smirked knowingly. He smiled back slyly, tiny beads of sweat forming across his brow. Caught ya, didn't I?' she thought, raising her eyebrows both accusing and acknowledging.
He gave her a nod, and grinned through his silvery thick beard. "How `bout it, cubs, you two gonna stand there talking to yourselves in your own language, or you joining us for more champagne?"
They snapped back to the presence of their mates instantly. "Oh, sure, more of the same, please," Clay burbled. "You ready, Warren?"
"I'm right with you, Brotherman!" came the echo. "Should we get another before dinner, Da... uh, Corey?" his ragged breath nearly betraying his excitement.
Claire watched her husband's near twin glow. "Don't hedge your words on my account. I understand, Warren. I can see you worship him," she said. "And I appreciate your taste in men. Quite similar to my own, don't you think?"
"Now THAT calls for another round!" Clay sang as Jean-Claude refilled their glasses, finishing the first bottle. "Monsieur le bartender, si'l vous plait, ENCORE!"
Claire lit the candle on her bedside table and doused the lamp. What a wonderful time that was! Great champagne, magnificent food, fantastic company,' she thought, replaying the evening. Surrounded by three amazing, beautiful, sexy men!' She dumped the extra pillows in the corner, pulled back the teal comforter and beige sheets. Corey and Clay were right here, hot and hairy and hard,' she mused as she dropped her burgundy robe to the floor, her nipples taut on her voluminous breasts. She cupped one, tweaked herself, felt the jolt fly to her loins as she slid between the rich cotton. Big, hot, powerful men.... in this bed....'
Clay stood naked in the doorway, filling the frame as he turned off the bathroom light. "God, you are so beautiful," he purred when he saw her waiting for him oh, yeah, big hairy cub stud twin, come to me...' she beckoned silently. His cock was on the rise, thick and hungry big hard cock, just like my brother's' he saw it in his mind yeah, warren, your fat swollen cock in my hand...'. His chest swelled as he ripped the covers back to behold her propped against the polished wood of their antique headboard come love me you hot men...'. He gathered her into his strong arms, lotta woman, god I love a lotta woman, lotta man cubtwin our daddyman...' pressed his furry pecs against the flimsy satin barely containing her, hairy big twin in my bed gonna fuck me good...' buried his face in her sweet cleavage, inhaled deeply. Her Aromatics Elixir stirred his shaft to steel, leaking feel my brother's identical hard rod...'. She grasped it, bet warren's is just this big this hard...' smeared the wetness around his swollen knob. He yanked the material away from her body, filled his hand with her hot breast, devouring the nipple, get it up hard swollen nipple hard ready cock brother...' biting it just so as he drew a moan from her through the taut nub. They writhed in their rising passions tell them to do me right corey you little stud make them know what pleasures me...' open her for me my brother aim me true daddyman...'. He found her button within the damp heat of her nether curls slick me up for your brothercub warren...'. She squealed and rolled onto her belly yeah gonna dog you warren dog you with your daddy's intact fuckpole...', pushing his hardness into her readiness hot wet hole my hole wet for our daddydick...'. He grunted into her neck and bit down as she took him to the hilt with one stroke make your daddy proud cub fill me up...', pulsed to nine fat inches, a record join me in her with our hard cocks my big-dicked studs...'. Her whole body shuddered, groaned gutterally as she reached back show me where you do him daddy...' and claimed his asscheek, found his hot pucker spread me for daddy warren...', and drove two digits into him slide it through your slick foreskin daddy into my hot open manass...', urging him into herself make him go deeper warren oh yes there yes yes yes ...'. She found his chestnut and pummelled it nnngggh stud daddy oh yes dick me there dick me...' pulled his trigger yes hot spot do him daddy do me don't stop do me...'. He bellowed as he exploded into her with a violent spurt claim her daddyseed claim me brotherspunk...'. She shrieked as his thrusts pounded her against his fingers on her trigger big hot dick blast me feed him your love corey feed us oh god I'm cumming...', firing a fusillade of lust behind her eyelids, feed her our love brother feed us your love daddy...' her entire body spasming in her receiving, devouring, claiming him fucking me three studs yes in me yes own me yes love me...'. Again he rammed `FUCK her warrencock FUCK me daddydick FUCK US...', roaring beastly ramming, more primal spasms demanding another wave IN ME / IN YOU / FILL ME / DRAIN ME / LOVE ME / LOVE YOU again and again the wail the joy the bliss the love my love my loves my lover our lovers our mates united four of us together at last "OHH GOOOODDDDD!!" they keened in unison.
Claire stirred. In the early morning light, her head lightly throbbed. So did her loins, her whole body. The scent of orgasm slammed her nostrils, Clay's sweat and JHL and semen and her pussy filling her consciousness. Her face was mashed into the matted, sticky fur of his chest. His nipple, red, swollen, raw, was at her lips. She licked across it, making him murmur and shift, his big arm engulfing her once, then he eased back into his dreamings. She took in the big man sprawled next to her, crusty glazed cock lazily throbbing across his hairy thigh. How sweet he looks,' she thought, the randy bastard I married, and loves me so good and...' and sat upright as she remembered, `and loves Corey and Warren. Big masculine hard hairy powerful sexy men, all of them. And they fuck together, have mansex, loving each other. And they do love each other, and still he loves me. God, how he loves me! They're not competition, not for him, nor for me.' Alas, many bubbles still sloshed inside her head, and she groaned softly. Then she tenderly stroked his thick pretty prick, which pulsed back against her hot palm, smiled and murmured, "Well then, lover, if they inspire you to do THAT to me all the time, this is going to be all right!"
TO BE CONTINUED
Thank you, sir.
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