DISCLAIMER ========== This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights (copyright (c) 2003 - psun@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between males: - if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.
And any comments - brickbats or bouquets, send them over to psun@hotmail.com And if you find that you like what you're reading, visit my page at http://www.geocities.com/savante_2002
I remembered where I was. The last week had been spent on a medical conference - an update on the latest ERCP findings and I had been invited as a guest speaker. On the last day, I found myself roaming the streets of London. I remember going into a club - and evidently drinking a little too much, judging by the kickboxing duo knocking out my eyeballs. Recalling the last time I went on a binge, I wondered what had kicked off this irresponsible round. Being irresponsible, and taking one drink too many, certainly wasn't something that I often indulged in.
It was barely morning in London and the morning light was streaming through the large windows of my hotel room. Even that faint light caused me to wince as I slowly stretched and rose from the bed. There had been some thoughts of checking out some of the bookstores on Charing Cross but I doubted that I could stand it without a thick, heavenly cup of coffee first.
"Good morning, doc."
The sound of a man's voice beside me had my heart skipping a beat, a low, seductive baritone with a hint of lazy laughter that rang a tinny bell of familiarity in depths of my fugue state mind. It took a moment for my brain to digest the novel notion that there was someone in bed with me. The fact that it was a man wasn't a real problem considering the fact that I was a raving homosexual with raging adolescent needs, although I was already in my early thirties. Until recently however, I had never acted on those baser urges and maintained myself on a strict diet of hard, obsessive work which had gotten me to the top of my career. Of course I still had the occasional slip-ups, like the arrival of the hunky UPS man every other week giving rise to lurid fantasies that necessitated a quick escape to the relative privacy of my office.
Negotiating my head to tilt in the direction of that voice, I carefully opened my eyes. It was something that I had never expected and the sight had my heart beating madly in my chest. A startling vision of masculine beauty greeted me, blue eyes, black hair, stubbled jaw, model-handsome looks. Under my scrutiny, one thickly lashed blue eye winked playfully at me.
My reaction was almost instinctive. Letting out a squeal - a hopefully manful sounding one, I leapt off the bed, dragging the duvet along with me. Compared to the shock at finding a man in my bed, the sudden disorienting dizziness that accompanied my escape barely made a dent. For the past week, I'd remained solitary so how the hell had I managed to find a roommate? A quick flash of murder and robbery flashed through my mind but I dismissed it. It took a few seconds before I could manage a reasonably coherent answer as monosyllables were all I could come out with. "W-Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?"
Wincing under the quick barrage of accusations, he blinked slowly in confusion. "Mark."
That certainly didn't help clear things up for me. Even as I racked my fogged-up brain for his identity, flipping madly through the neverending galleries of gorgeous, perfectly tanned gay porn stars that I kept hidden in my laptop, all that came to my mind Mark who? As stunningly handsome as he was, I'd certainly remember him. "How did you get in here?"
Waking up to a nervous breakdown was certainly getting the sleeping hunk up earlier than he'd expected. Rubbing his free hand over his eyes, Mark grinned lazily, flashing a row of even, brilliantly white teeth. "A little too late to ask that, isn't it?"
"A little too late for what?" The timbre of his deep voice stirred something in me, something that brought to mind a memory that I simply couldn't catch hold of. I closed my eyes as a montage of wild, erotic images flashed MTV-like across my brain. "What did you do? Or more to the point, what did I do?"
He pulled his head back slightly in stunned surprise, looking at me as if I'd just dropped from another planet. "Don't you remember.. oh, shit, you were pissed drunk last night and you don't remember."
"Remember what?" I demanded in a slightly raised tone and then winced painfully as my head spun. As Mark sat up in the bed in concern, my eyes widened in shock as the sheets shifted revealing a naked hip. "Oh my God, you're naked!"
"So are you, sweetheart," he pointed out helpfully.
The information froze me to the spot as I slowly cast a glance around the bedroom, finally taking in the after effects of last night's drunken binge. Judging by the ruins, it was painfully obvious what had happened last night. My shirt hung forlornly from the lamp and my pants had been shed by the bathroom. A pair of boxer briefs, not mine, lay crumpled beneath the sofa. The suggestive flash from the shiny foil wrapping on the desk had me groaning in disgust.
"And there's no need to be shy, I've seen you in the altogether." Unconcerned with the fact that he was naked, he drew his legs up and rested his elbows on his knees. The quick shift and flex of the sculpted muscles on his taut, powerful torso had my libido roaring to life. The golden-smooth, practically hairless chest was sculpted and powerful, with slab-like pecs capped with dime-sized nipples the shape of dark candy kisses that looked succulent enough to make my mouth water. Sensing my scrutiny, he cocked his handsome head to the side and aimed a sly grin my way. "And by the way, you look hot."
The palpable heat in his brilliant blue gaze stripped me. Taking a nervous step back, I clutched the duvet to my chest like a terrified Victorian virgin and stammered out a reply. "Why... naked... why.."
Being left bare naked except for a few strategically placed pillows certainly didn't embarass him although I had to admit he obviously had nothing to hide. Hard to be painfully shy when one had 6-foot-3 inches and 210 lbs of rock solid, sculpted muscles and sinew for a body. The delicate play of the tight, corded muscles beneath his strong arms and pecs as he shifted on the bed had the blood pumping straight to my groin. Guessing the effect he had on me, Mark or whoever he was raised a dark brow. "I don't know about you but I usually take off my clothes to have sex. But if you've got a better way, I certainly wouldn't mind trying."
"You? Me?" Flustered, this time my voice squeaked.
"Yeah." He lifted those broad shoulders in a careless shrug. "Incidentally, those words were actually joined together last night. In more than a dozen ways I might add."
"Oh my God. I cannot believe it."
"Believe it, sweetheart." The man was finding it amusing obviously - and really got into it. Rubbing the back of his hand over his stubbled jaw, he chuckled. "Actually, you picked me up."
"I?" Still disbelieving, I stubbornly closed my eyes. It was only slightly more than a year that I'd admitted to myself that I was a raving homo and here I was, with what I would have termed a one-night-stand. No one who knew the quiet, conservative doctor who worked endless hours could imagine me picking up tricks in Soho. Even with the evidence lying in front of me, I found it hard to believe myself. "I must be dreaming."
His laughter was deep and appreciative. "Feel the thick cum sticking on your thighs? That's mine, not yours."
Acknowledging the truth of what he said, my eyes widened and I shifted uneasily. Crude comment naturally but still the truth. It amazed me that I'd had the balls to pick this guy up. Not only was he stunningly gorgeous in the flesh, there was a certain raw charisma and sexuality that exuded in waves from him and I was certain that he drew everyone's attention wherever he went. Usually hot guys with such stellar looks left me tongue-tied and foolish, leaving me speechless as I stared dumbly at their glorious beauty. They didn't leave me with cum trails sticking on my skin.
Furthermore, there was something vaguely dangerous about him, a certain something wildly intense around his eyes that spelled danger. Coupled with the battered leather jacket and dirty jeans thrown on the chair, he was the epitome of the bad boy, the kind of man I usually steered clear of. Sure, rough trade bad boys sent my heart thumping but I knew better than to play with fire of that kind.
A quick grin briefly crossed his lips. "For such a smooth talker last night, you seem to have lost your tongue."
It still boggled my mind that such a man had been persuaded to return to my hotel room with me. An unwelcome thought came to me as I came to realization that such good looks certainly didn't come free. Smiling nervously, I stuttered, "A-are you a .. hustler? Am I supposed to pay you?"
The accusation earned a quick bark of laughter from him. "That's the first time I've been accused of that but trust me, you wouldn't be able to afford me, River."
Tracing the line of his spectacular physique down his trim waist to the magnificent posterior with my hungry gaze, I had no choice but to agree. Succulent Grade A prime beef, that was Mark what-sis-name and it was true that I certainly couldn't afford to buy his time.
Gesturing to me with his hand, he dipped his dark head in a nod. "What are you doing standing all the way there? Trust me, I don't bite." Pausing for a moment in thought, he added with an impish smile, "Although you did, by the way."
A memory flash of a hard, well-muscled shoulder came to mind, the sharp red imprint of my teeth, and I shook my head to dispel the thought. "What exactly did I say last night?"
"Three lines, sweetheart." With a half-grin, he held up three fingers in emphasis. Strong, elegant hands with nicely manicured nails, hands better suited to the artist or musician that contrasted powerfully with the dirty stubble, the forearms pakced with muscle and scuffed jeans.
"Three lines? That got you into bed?" The infectious grin on his dark, tanned face had me grinning in response and I could feel the hysterical bubble of laughter rising. Time and again, my friends would warn me that my wicked sense of humour would be my inevitable downfall and I figured they were right. Head soaked in alcohol, in bed with a stranger and I felt like laughing hysterically. "Were you drunk?"
"Motherfucker." He looked almost insulted. "After a pint? I should think not."
The slight slip of his rough brogue into something that hinted of upper-class posh went passed me as I tried to assimilate the information he was giving me. "Oh My God."
"That sounds familiar." His blue eyes narrowed into heated slits as he flashed another wicked grin. "Yeah, I believe you said that last night too."
The implication of what he said had me colouring up to my ears. "What exactly did I say?"
Not only was he tanned and gorgeous, it irritated me to see that he was so perfectly chipper in the morning. Shiny, wide-awake grin, brilliantly blue eyes, fresh, glowing skin. In perfect contrast, waking up early in the morning had always been a chore for me, even with the help of java. In combination with my overdose of alcohol last night, I looked like an unmade bed, my head felt like it was wrapped in wool while the man in my bed had the temerity to look as fresh as a daisy.
"First you told me I was the best-looking bloke in the bar."
That was an easy one. Chances were high that he'd be the best-looking man in most places. "I bet you were."
"Thanks," Mark replied with a playful grin. "It wasn't the first time someone tried that line on me, I've been hit on before, but you were different."
Different? With his breathtaking looks, the man must have been hit on more times than I could possibly imagine. What could a patent amateur like me have to offer that dozens of handsome tricks and barhoppers couldn't? At my best, I would be described as average with average looks. Sure, I worked out and kept my body tight but it was nothing compared to some of the droolsome hunks I'd seen, and definitely nothing in comparison to Mark. "Different? You've got to be kidding. How so?"
Recalling the memory, he laughed. "Well, the way your tongue suddenly invaded my mouth was different."
That did surprise me since it had been a long time since I'd dated any man, and even longer since I'd stuck my tongue down any man's throat. Replacing my nonexistent social life with piles of work had managed to fill the gap but it still left me wanting more. A night in with my five-fingered date was satisfactory at most times but it couldn't replace a warm, heavy body beside me in bed with hot hands and an even hotter dick.
Cautiously, I made my reply. "Wait, my tongue was in your mouth."
"Your hand was in my pants too," he informed me helpfully.
Try as I could, I couldn't help my eyes darting down to what he kept hidden beneath the sheets. It didn't show all that much but from the tent at his crotch, there seemed to be something substantial growing down there. It actually didn't at all surprise me that someone would want to stick their hands in his pants to check out that impressive bulge. Moving my gaze up to meet his, I encountered his knowing smile and a suggestive wink that had me backing up a step. "My God, how much did I drink?"
"Enough," he admitted begrudgingly. "I believe you were downing pints like it was the last day on earth. I was watching so I know."
His words caused me to stare at him. He was watching me that night?
Losing his train of thought, Mark muttered softly, "Now, where was I? Oh yeah, then you asked me where I was going that night."
"Yeah?" The man was clearly enjoying himself with my predicament and I started to smile despite myself. WIth the dull throb in my head, it was all I could do. "And what did you say?"
Keeping his intent gaze on mine, Mark chuckled softly as he ran a hand through his dark hair, smoothing down the tousled curls. I'd always envied guys with those glossy black curls that seemed to glow with a life of their own while I was stuck with straight hair. "I think I told you I was going home which was the truth since I had some work to do that night but you weren't having any of that. Then you corrected me by saying that I was going to fuck you that night."
"I said that," I muttered disbelievingly, shaking my head all the while. Those brazen words seemed to have come out from some alien who had possessed me.
"Yes."
"And you fell for that?"
"Sure I did." As he turned, the sheets fell to reveal even more of his naked torso, falling down to his lean hips and I couldn't help ogling him. Michaelangelo couldn't have found a better David, this man was a fine piece of work.
"That was the look that got you into trouble in the first place." There was a twinkle in his blue eyes again as he reached out to tug my hand. Unresisting, I let myself be pulled closer to the bed but kept my other hand clutching the duvet to myself. In an inebriated state, it was obviously easy shedding all my clothes in front of Mr Perfect Body but in the light of day, there was just no way in hell. Who the hell would drop their trou in the face of such perfection?
"I cannot believe I did all that. Pick guys up in bars? I can't even get the guts up to talk to the hunky UPS guy!" I protested firmly. And speaking of the hunky blond, even that stud paled in comparison to Mark. As I tugged my hand away, Mark held on tight and we had a short tug of war before he finally relented and released me.
"Trust me, you had plenty of witnesses in the bar - watching you feel me up." With a wicked grin and the devil in his blue eyes, he added in way of a compliment. "Great technique by the way. Novel."
"Oh My God." Gesturing from him to me, I stammered again. The implication was obvious but I had to confirm the fact. "We had sex?"
He chuckled. "Isn't that a foregone conclusion? And in many different ways. You even made me blush a few times."
"Me?" What he was telling me sounded like someone totally divorced from the person I was. Getting drunk, picking up some handsome stranger in a bar, having anonymous sex in a hotel room. I couldn't even pay the water bill a day late. Even my trip abroad was neatly planned out on a notebook, cross-referenced for everything I could possibly need, every emergency that could happen. Obviously I hadn't counted on anything like this remotely happening.
Wrapping the duvet around like a sarong, I gingerly seated myself at the foot of the bed, as far away as possible from him. From what I'd gathered from the night before, I obviously didn't have any control when it came to him. The safe position I took only had Mark giving me a look of frank amusement.
"Yeah. Let me tell you what else we did." Leaning over to me, he whispered into my ear a position that stunned me.
The palpable heat of his big body surprised me almost as much as what he'd just suggested. The heat, and his musky scent, redolent of the night before, had my glands humming even without the explicit image he had just put into my head. "I-I can't do that. Only Russian gymnasts and.. flexible guys with no spines can do that."
Evidently the astonishment on my face was telling enough that he let out a laugh. "Well, I don't know what came over you last night but you sure managed it. Surprised the hell out of me, that's for sure."
"Are you kidding me?"
The disbelief in my voice wasn't exactly a deterrent and he only lifted his dark brows in challenge. "You want a repeat? I don't know if I can do it again but I certainly wouldn't mind another go at it."
Lifting my hands to my eyes, I shaded them. If I looked up, no doubt I'd see a pair of laughing blue eyes again. "You find all this terribly funny, don't you?"
Finally taking pity on me, he let out a manful sigh. "River, I don't know about you but I had an amazing night. I had a man who gave me some incredible sex and an interesting chat afterward. A pity you don't remember it but we can always recap later." Giving me a flash of a smile, he let out a barely repressed yawn and slowly eased out of bed. "Now, I need a shower."
"That's it?" I sputtered out. As he got out of the bed, it didn't help that he'd just flashed me what had to be the most perfect ass known to man. Hard, perfectly round mounds of steel with what looked to be silky smooth, unblemished skin and I had the urge to reach down and cup them in my hands, wondering whether they'd make a perfect fit. Although I tried to keep my gaze strictly at neck level, it was difficult not to give in to the impulse to look again.
The look in his eyes left me in no doubt that he knew what I was thinking but although his lips did curve up in somehing resembling a smirk, he thankfully made no comment. However as he paused before the bathroom door, Mark aimed a hot blue stare at me. "Stop looking, doc, unless you want the recap now."
"I got totally drunk in a foreign city and wake up without a memory of last night with a man I know nothing about." As my voice grew higher, I noted my growing hysteria and the fact that I was just this close from bursting into giggles. There was nothing remotely funny about my situation and yet I found myself close to cracking up. It certainly made me wonder what my old psych professor would say about this.
"You know my name," he pointed out helpfully.
"That's all."
His voice lowered to a low, intimate growl. "Well, you know me in the most intimate, biblical sense."
From the relative safety of my bed, I eyed him carefully. "I would punch that smirk off your face if I weren't smaller than you - and feeling nauseous."
"I should have known you'd wake up fighting, especially after you'd warned me about that."
"Warned you?" My eyes goggled at him. "What the hell..."
"Yeah, you told me you'd wake up in a pissed mood, angry at yourself. My rambunctious little fighter." Still looking as pleased with himself as the cat that caught the canary, he narrowed his glance at me, his smile full of wicked glee. "Remember the chat I mentioned? We talked in between bouts. I learned a few interesting things about you."
Alcohol was a deadly combination for me and I recalled spilling everything about myself one drunken night during high school and I never repeated that mistake. My classmates still talked about the night Chen spilled the beans. Till now. The number of secrets I could have revealed, the amount of crap I could have babbled had me sinking back into the bed and I wondered whether I could bury myself back in another bottle. "Oh, shit."
"Yeah, you talked a lot. Didn't stop me liking you though, lil bundle of neuroses."
"Shut up."
Hiding in the safety of the bathroom, I readjusted the towel I'd wrapped around my waist and stared at myself in the mirror. Apart from the bloodshot eyes, the mussed up black hair that stood up on end, I seemed to be the same man. But if what Mark had said was the truth, I had just had sex with a man. A gorgeous, sexy man at that. The more I repeated the thought in my mind, I started grinning like a fool. I just had sex.
The door swung open and I turned around staring. "What the hell are you doing?"
It was amazing what a plain white tee and jeans could do for a man like that. Plain and tight, they hugged the contours of his muscular, drool-inducing physique, showing it off to perfection and I could see why I'd recklessly stuck my tongue down his throat without thinking. Mr 'I'm Mark' looked as sinful as Chocolate Decadence and damned if he didn't know that. Reading the admiration in my eyes, he only grinned. "Please don't stand on ceremony. I'm just leaving."
"Not a problem," I replied, as nonchalant as I could with only a white towel to hide my modesty. After all, it was only a drunken one-night-stand and I understood perfectly. Sure the thought did sting a little but hey, he was a gorgeous guy, hell there must be tons of guys out there he hadn't slept with. With that fantastic chest and those perky tits, he must have guys coming out of the closet everywhere to nibble on them.
"You're staring at my chest again. I am more than just nice pecs. Eyes up, doc." Nudging my chin up with his fingers, he forced me to meet his coolly amused gaze. "I doubt you'll be fully conscious for another few hours and I need to freshen up so... tea at 4? I'll be waiting."
I was all prepared for a nice walking-out speech but not for this. "What?"
"Isn't it obvious?" From my chin, his hand streaked up my cheek and he smiled when I shivered in response. "Even while you were getting all boozed up, I kept my eye on you. Neat lil guy in a spiffy suit drinking like a sailor on leave. And then you just got off that stool, headed for me and stuck your hands down my pants... what the hell, I like you."
"You like that?" He was plainly one fruit short of a bunch. Liking a sex maniac who got drunk and attacked him in public?
Mark only shrugged and shoved his own hands into his pockets, his dark eyes lit with amusement. "Yeah."
"You're a sick man but I'm still drunk enough to like that. Tea?"
"You wanted scones, I'll give you scones."
Somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain, I recalled mentioning something like that. It seemed so quintessentially British. Scones and cream. My brow furrowed. "What exactly did I say last night?"
"Lots," he added with a secret smile. "You want to know more, we'll talk at tea. Here's my card."
Slipping a card out of his pants, he handed it to me and I held it blindly. "We're going for scones?"
"And tea. Don't make me wait."
Giving me an upchuck on my chin, he turned around and was gone. Mouth agape, I kept my gaze on his retreating back and then back down at the card. What I saw there made me reassess what I knew of the man. Gilt-edged, classy and excessively formal, and totally unlike the rough-edged man who'd just walked out my door. The name on the card stunned me even more. Lord Marcus Fitzwilliam Darcy.