This fictional story of gay men is for persons over the age of eighteen.
Title; Kane. Chapter Eighteen.
'Of all the fucking names in the world it has to be the same as mine,' Tracey raged when we got back to the flat. I couldn't stop laughing. 'You might think it's funny,' he ranted at me, 'but I don't.'
'It seems,' I choked out, 'that I've been fucking two Spencer's at the same time,' and went off into another paroxysm of laughter, but he soon joined in with the joke.
'I was sort of hoping that his name would have been Abel,' he managed to get out and that set us off in another gale of mirth. We hugged each other as we laughed until we cried. Then it turned to kisses and then to taking each other's clothes off before we melded our bodies and went to bed to have the pleasure of having each other again.
We almost wrecked the bed as we fucked each other in the joy of our freedom and our love for one another and fell asleep, sated with sex and the knowledge that we loved each other.
I know that it is somewhat of an anticlimax to the story, but it is really a report that was written for Spencer, the boss that is, though I edited certain sections for his reading.
Tracey and I moved into my apartment in Great Pye Street and he was soon at home there. A kitchen to perform wonders in and a bath that gave us many hours of delight. It was big enough for both of us and also had the room for us to have sex in at the same time. That's not discounting that bed where you could roll over three times and still not fall out.
We christened every room, every piece of furniture, every work surface and every carpet by my fucking him and him sometimes having me, in every nook and cranny of our new home. He even went out and bought a gross of those condoms which we depleted in a very short time as we got to know the apartment.
If my memory ever comes back, I know it will not surpass these last couple of weeks of me getting to know and fall in love with Tracey. To see him dressed there as a woman in all her glory and slowly pull off the dress to reveal that she was actually a man wearing that sexy underwear of a bra, suspender belt that held up the stockings he wore. To see him turn round to show me his glorious backside, those firm globes that I just loved to stroke and caress. Then his erection that stuck out so incongruously from the attire his was wearing. The smile he gave me from that beautiful face that I'm sure could have launched more than a thousand ships. The smile that was for me, my love. The love that loved me and made me happy and the body that was a slim and petite and yet had strength to take me on and swallow me up inside and give me the greatest pleasure I had ever known.
To feel his muscle squeeze me when I was up inside him as we fucked. To have him suck me and for me to suck him was love beyond the pale. So we ate, slept, lived and fucked each other and were content with having what many people never experience in their whole lives, true love.
The End.
The follow-up story to this is Kane & Spencer.