Computer Guys pt7
Disclaimer: The following story is of an erotic nature, and is not suitable for persons under certain ages in certain areas. The author encourages all said individuals to terminate this post. Should said individuals not heed this request then the author cannot be held liable for the free action of individuals who make use of the Net. Furthermore, the story involves sexual material relating to adult males, and if you do not feel comfortable with this then you should leave this post. (I should have been a lawyer - itsounds so serious.)
The story below and any subsequent parts are the sole property of the author, and may not be changed in any form. If you want to duplicate this story to a web-based archive, etc. then please ask for my permission so I know where my stories end up.
Any and all correspondence can be directed to the author at: morgyle@iafrica.com
This is a repost of my original story. I have corrected typos, etc. and most importantly - am in the process of finishing the story I'll be posting new installments on a weekly basis, so keep reading. Feedback is always welcome.
Computer Guys, pt7
"Hey, guys it has been fun, but if I don't get going soon I am going to get fired from my job," Austin said rising and preparing to leave. "Shit, I've got no clothes - what the hell am I going to do now," he said sitting back down on the sofa.
"Take my clothes," I said pointing to the trail of clothes that led to the patio door. "But how am I supposed to explain arriving at work in a different set of clothes?"
"You'll think of something." Austin shrugged his shoulders, and began to get dressed. My clothes looked a little large on him, but not overly so. He really filled out my jeans nicely, and Donavon teasingly tucked Austin's cock neatly inside my jeans. By the time he was finished Austin had another raging hard-on. No time to take care of that he slipped out of the door with a farewell wave. We didn't hear his car pulling off, but then that was probably because it was parked down the street.
"I'm a tad beat, and need to get some sleep before work tomorrow," I said rolling so that I faced Donavon.
"Me, too - let's spend the night here - I'll stock the fire with wood for the evening, and you go and get a blanket." Before I could reply Donavon had moved to place more logs on glowing embers in the fireplace. I went to my room, and retrieved a blanket from one of my closets. Returning to the lounge I found the fire once again burning brightly. Snuggling together in the warmth of the fire, our bodies, and the blanket we drifted off to sleep.
I dreamt that night that all my experiences of the afternoon were but a dream. This startled me awake, but I found that my dreams were in fact reality, because beside me lay Donavon. For a while I lay listening to the sound of his shallow breathing, and nestled my body into his, so that I could feel the heat from his body. His arm instinctively moved to embrace me in his sleep. With him holding me I fell asleep again - knowing that at this moment in time he was mine.
I awoke with Donavon's sweet lips exploring my neck. He felt me stir awake. "Good-morning, and how are you on this bright and sunny morning," he asked caressing my chest and stomach.
"Well, except for the fact that I probably have one of the most gorgeous guys alive lying next to me - I'd say all right."
"Oh, you flatter me so. But enough toying around for now - we had better get moving, or we are going to be late for work."
In all honesty I had completely forgotten about work, and looking over at the timer on my stereo I noticed that is was just after eight, and I started at nine. I gave Donavon a good-morning kiss, and headed for the shower. Hastily I turned on the shower, and shouted to Donavon that I would shower first. Soon I was beneath the soothing waters and enjoying a nice hot shower. I had not been under the water for a minute when Donavon joined me.
"What took you so long, " I asked facing him, and kissing him passionately on the lips. Each of us took a cake of soap in hand, and began to lather the others bodies. The feeling of being washed by one's lover is definitely one of the most exciting experiences ever. They have that tender touch that one never experienced at bath-time whilst growing up. Donavon's hands soothed my muscles, and I returned the favor. We did not initiate any sexual activity, but I took the time to wash every inch of his body - paying special attention to his erect cock. Our shower was over all to soon, and Donavon proceeded to dry me with a fresh towel from the linen cupboard. I too gently toweled dry his body, and led him back to his room. At the door to his room I released his hand from mine, and playfully patted him on his rump. He entered his room and began to dress - I watched him for awhile, and then proceeded to my room.
There was no given dress code at the company, so Donavon, and I arrived at work clad in jeans and sweatshirts. These had been found to be the most comfortable to work in. My boss was not concerned about how we looked as long as we provided the goods, and at this point in his life he was smiling all the way to the bank. Donavon's hand had rested on my leg all the way to work, and the presence of his hand on my leg was truly magnificent. Funny it seemed like it was little things about Donavon now that were pleasing my senses - like the distinct smell of his deodorant, or the way that he touched me in passing.
The day at work was torture, and I could not wait for six when we knocked off for the night. Ross had been absent from work - I guessed that he was still lying in Cameron's arms. I phoned his place to make sure that he was all right, but there was no reply. Deciding finally that he was otherwise occupied I left the matter alone.
Come quitting time Donavon and I decided to go to a local pub for some beers with the guys from work. The atmosphere in the pub was rather jovial for a Monday night. Our boss, Mr. Von Jaggert (Jags - to all at work) even made an appearance. We asked him how he knew about our being at the bar, and he started laughing. "How can I miss the six red BMW's parked outside all with similar number-plates," he said and then offered to buy us a round of beers. We had a great evening, and literally crawled home at about eleven. Drinking on an empty stomach was rather stupid, if not dangerous. I passed out at some stage, and woke up in my bed the next morning with a thumping headache. The bed next to me had been slept in, and I was not surprised when Donavon entered my room with a tray of breakfast. The only thing that he wore was a pair of Police sunglasses. I recalled how bright the sun was in the kitchen in the mornings and I could understand the sunglasses. No doubt he to had a throbbing headache.
"Feel as bad as do stud," Donavon asked placing the tray on the bed.
"Maybe worse - ah, my mouth tastes like something died in it - let me go and freshen up, and I will be right back," I said slowly, very slowly rising from my bed and heading to the bathroom. On returning to my room I felt a hell of a lot better. I made myself comfortable on the bed, and engaged in small talk with Donavon as we enjoyed the breakfast. After we had finished the breakfast we headed for a communal shower, and repeated the procedure from the previous morning. All too soon we were on our way to work again. Work seemed a lot quieter than usual - no blaring music, loud laughing, and joking. Besides dark shades seemed the norm for those of us who had been at Marty's, the night before. The soda machine in the hall saw much trade as we shuffled back and forth from it and our workstations. The day dragged on, and I was surprised to see that Ross was still not at work. Jags even asked me if I knew where he had been for the past two days. I declined to speculate, but no sooner had he left my workstation, and I picked up the phone and called Ross's - still no reply. Maybe he had gone somewhere. But I was getting just a little worried. Ross was one of those extremely diligent workers.
When we ended work at six, Donavon, and I high-tailed it over to Ross's home. We arrived at Ross's home, and decided to do some amateur sleuthing. Donavon discovered, that Ross's BMW was parked in the garage. I managed to gain access to the house, and we explored the interior. The house seemed neat. Nothing out of place. I led Donavon upstairs, and we searched the rooms - NOTHING!. I was beginning to think that maybe he had gone off somewhere with Cameron. If only there was some way that I could check. Finally it dawned on me that I could check the recordings on Ross's hidden camera system. Telling Donavon to follow I led him down the hall, and in the direction of the hidden surveillance room.
When we arrived at the bookcase Donavon asked questioningly, "what are we doing looking at books - lets get out of here - he has obviously gone somewhere".
"Just wait, and you will see," I said, and searched for the trigger. It did not take me long to find the copy of "War & Peace", and I pulled on it. The bookshelf began to sink into the floor. Donavon looked at me in questioned awe. He did not seem to know what to say.
"SHIT," I cursed, when I saw the swipe type system that restricted access to the surveillance room.
"What is it now," Donavon said, looking at the foreboding steel door in front of him. I explained to him about the smart card, that was needed to open the door. We left our positions, and began to search the house for the desired access device. It was Donavon who found the card in a pair of Ross's jeans in the laundry. Apparently he had been a little careless.
We swiped the card, and were granted access. The huge steel door swung open. Donavon gasped at the amount of computer equipment in the room. He immediately noticed the bank of screens, which revealed every part of the house. I sat down at one of the terminals, and called up the system log. After a few attempts I managed to access the program, and replay the footage from Sunday. Donavon stood over me as I worked. He passed little comments when he saw the hot action between Cameron, Ross, and myself - not to mention that his cock was taking strain in his pants.
"I'll take care of this monster later," I told him patting his cock through his pants.
"Don't worry you most certainly will."
I fast-forwarded the scene to when I left. The scene, which unfolded was not that pleasant. Cameron woke first, and began to dress. He left the room, and then returned a little later. He walked over to Ross, and began to kick him hard in the stomach. Ross could be seen waking abrubtly in puzzlement and pain. Cameron proceeded to lift Ross from the floor, and then he threw him across the room. Ross tried to defend himself as he fended off blow after blow. Soon his body lay limp on the floor. Cameron then threw Ross's body over his shoulder, and left the room.
Donavon and I exchanged glances of confusion and fright. Had we just witnessed the murder of our friend. The motive seemed unclear. Maybe Cameron's beating up his lovers was his way of reinforcing his manhood.
"What now?" Donavon asked, noticably disturbed by the incident. In all honesty I did not know what to do, but then Donavon came up with the idea of rewinding all the tapes to the same time. This would allow us to watch all the surveillance cameras from the same time. Working together we reset all the tapes, and let them run.
We saw Cameron exit the room and enter the hall. He proceeded down the hall, and down the staircase. At the bottom of the staircase he seemed to hesitate, then noticing a set of keys on a side table he retrieved them and moved to the kitchen. A door led from the kitchen into the garage. The cameras ended in the kitchen, but we had no doubt that Cameron had probably dumped Ross in the boot of his car.
We moved towards the door as one, as we rushed to see if Ross was alive or dead. My heart was bounding so hard as we opened the door to the garage. We headed for the boot. It was locked. We called out Ross's name, but there was no reply. Donavon took a hammer from a workbench, and smashed the side window of the covered convertible. The alarm began screaming in protest. Leaning into the car - Donavon opened the boot and then the hood with the quick release lever inside the car. I held my breathe as I opened the boot.
"His here!" I screamed over the deafening alarm. Inside the boot was Ross curled in a fetal position. Nervously I extended my hand to feel for a pulse. Suddenly, the alarm stopped, and Donavon was standing next to me.
"Is he alive," he asked, looking down at the badly beaten body.
"I don't know," I whispered, and extended my fingers to his neck to feel for a pulse.
[..to be continued]
Any and all correspondence can be directed to the author at: morgyle@iafrica.com