Date: Wed, 5 Jun 2013 21:02:33 -0700
From: D_M <mcleodwrite@gmail.com>
Subject: Alex & Timmy Ch 8

Alex & Timmy

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 Ch 8

The sun's grace had turned our yard, front and back, into a jungle, in
which Tim and Barkley were playing in between fits of Tim's battle with
dandelions. As a kid from whom chores were never asked, my young lover had
a curious desire to dive in. The yard was freer from the yellow upstarts
than at any point that I could recall. Tim was handy with the weed whacker,
the more fastidious of the two of us. I get impatient and hurry, which is
dangerous for edges and for any other flora in my way.

As we built our giant To Do list, Tim's perceptive comments explained his
enthusiasm for digging in. He said, "My parents have two people to clean
the house; a person to buy the art; a person to buy the wine; a person to
decide which WATER they drink; a person to drive them; a person to organize
all of their people, and every single one of them just keeps my parents
further and further away from doing anything real. I want to be in the
middle of my life, not far away watching myself from a box seat."

This conversation happened as we made a phone call to Devin to ask if he'd
be interested in bring his personal dogs (just two) and himself to live in
our house. I let him know that our only caveats were that he not use the
rooms in the basement that are locked, that he keep the place up, use the
bedrooms on the second floor, and we'd keep the third floor master suite
for visits.

Despite Tim's raised eyebrow, I assured Dev we'd have a lawn and garden
service and a poop-scoop service. I didn't want Dev to have to add work to
his day in exchange for living in our house. Dev didn't believe me for
several minutes and finally, Tim got on the phone and convinced him.

We arranged for Dev to move in in two weeks, leaving ourselves pretty much
no time between the time I quit work and the time we leave town.

Timmy said, "I don't have school until mid-September. I know that we'll
have house hunting and all of that, but do you think that we can do a
getaway together before we get there and get all about the business of our
new life?" I smiled cryptically and said, "Let that question wait for a
couple of days, okay, lover?"

Noting the twinkle in my eye, Tim blushed and nodded. "What can I do now,
Alex?" We agreed on yard work as I began putting together curry chicken and
saag paneer, and wished I had time to make ras malai, but we still had
lemon cake for my sweet-tooth boy. Cooking for people who appreciate good
food is almost as satisfying as great sex. It's all about taking the time
to build something that will be intensely pleasurable. I grinned as I
cooked.

Half an hour later, Barkley tromped through the dog door and Tim opened the
slider a minute later. He stopped mid stride, inhaled, and said, "Holy
cranberries, Alex, that smells fabulous!" He ran to me, jumped into my
arms, and began kissing me hard. "I can't believe you cook such incredible
meals for us. I LOVE eating the food you make! I can't wait to get better
so that I can make more than breakfast!"

I sat him on the counter and looked at his face. "You got sun, and it looks
as though you brought in a fair bit of dirt on your face." I wiped his face
with a damp towel and said, "Okay, why don't you get cleaned up, and we
will eat. I'd like to have time to digest before we begin our evening
entertainment." I pulled his t-shirt over his head and licked the salt on
his chest, then kissed his nipple, one, then trailed to the other. Back and
forth, I went, licking and sucking, Tim's hands in my hair as he moaned.

"Oh, god, oh god, oh GOD, Alex! Don't stop, please, don't....."

I pulled away and he peeped, "No..."

I smiled and pulled him down and kissed him, then turned him around and
swatted his butt and said, "Shower. Become clean. Wear one of your black
tight sleeveless shirts, no underwear, and 501s, and be barefoot, please."

He purred, "Ooooh, okay," and ran out the kitchen and upstairs.

I queued up some mood music, heavy guitar with a driving percussive beat.
The music alone put me in a headspace I'd not visited in a year. Earlier as
Tim helped the neighbor unload some wood he'd picked up, in preparation for
this evening, I visited the basement room. It was just as I last left it,
the smell of the leather fully present. I dusted and felt the memories as I
touched floggers, canes, chain, leather slings, the vault, so perfect to
bend over a willing victim. Ken's and my journey that resulted in this room
was one that began when I was nineteen and ended the day he died. Whether
that part of my life, the part that found a sacredness in the power
exchange would come to full fruition with Tim remained a mystery. I would
carefully guard his exposure.

For tonight, just a tour, a couple of demonstrations, perhaps, to see where
his curiosity took us. I decided to leave the door unlocked for the next
period of time until we moved. We would see where the journey led. I had to
stay true to my lover, and not let the darkness of my hunger take the lead.
Not for a long time, if ever. I fervently hoped to keep myself in balance
for my Tim, and I knew full well the draw of that sacred exchange, and its
power to transform. In the quiet of my soul, I prayed to the fates that our
love would someday reflect the dimensions of possibility present in that
free giving and receipt of power. I prayed, too, for the strength to remain
genuinely present for Tim and fully committed to our love as it manifested
each moment. I needed to trust myself to be at my best for Tim. I could
hear Ken saying, *There you are, Alex, you do. I trust you. Just as you
opened those doors for me, I know you to be an able and patient teacher.
And, I believe in your patience and I expect you to do the same.*

Timmy came into the kitchen dressed as I'd requested. He looked at me
quietly and already, I felt the electricity between us. "You please me,
lover," I said softly. "You're gorgeous."

I'd showered and changed in the mudroom bathroom and wore Levis and a black
shirt that strained just a bit across my chest with sterling silver
buttons. "Oh, god, Alex, wow," he said and came to me. "I've never seen
this shirt before. Your black hair and dark eyes and this shirt make you
look so....dangerous."

I smiled and bent to his neck, saying, "I am sorely tempted to mark your
neck, simply because if we needed to, we could get away with it just now.
Instead," I said as I turned him around and bit under his collar on his
neck in the back, "I will mark you right........here."

I bit and sucked and ran my hands around his front, rubbing his nips and
down his chest to his groin. I ripped open his Levis and reached for his
cock and his knees buckled as I stroked him, continuing the pressure of the
bite.

I lightened up and turned him around and softly kissed his lips. "Oh my
god, Alex," my lover moaned. His dilated eyes provided all the proof I
needed that his ardor was real. I smiled and moved his hand to my cock,
"See what your excitement does to me, Timmy? You make me so damned happy, I
can barely keep from crying."

Timmy looked at me with incendiary intensity and asked, "Alex, is this how
it will always be with us? So intense, so hot, so amazing? I feel like you
can make me cry all the time, too, but not from sadness, just because
everything between us seems so BIG. Do you think that we will have days
when things are just kinda normal?"

I threw back my head and laughed, "Oh, my stars, Timmy, I hope so: for
everything you said. That things continue as intense, hot, and amazing AND
that we have some kinda normal days. I hope, too, that we have days where
we each learn new things, things that completely surprise us, leave us
speechless."

"Help me get dinner on the table. Let's eat in the dining room for once," I
said. I'd set the table with flowers and candles and I left a small box on
Tim's placemat.

He carried in the curry and the spinach while I brought a pitcher of water.
Rather than rice, I defaulted to spaghetti squash, as we didn't eat simple
carbs in the form of anything that is white. I'm fussy about diet and so we
rarely ate rice of anything made from flour (except cakes, and pie crusts).

Tim sat at his place and looked at me with a question in his eyes.

"Last night you made your intentions clear where our relationships is
concerned. While I cannot give you a wedding ring yet, I can offer this, as
MY pledge to you. Please open it."

Tim's hands shook a bit as he untied the ribbon and opened the box, which
yielded a black velvet box. He opened it and beheld a heavy sterling ring,
a triskelion, with an elaborate design in the silver.

"It looks like three dragons heads...?"

"Indeed, it is. The triskelion, it is believed, has its roots in celtic
symbology, so this captures my Scottish heritage. The tri-part is open to
many interpretations, body, mind, spirit; man, god, spirit; mother, father,
child; or, very personally, Ken, Alex, Timothy. The overarching message is
balance, interplay and balance. The dragons are simply because my friend,
Dylan, is a helluv an artist and I love his design, so I had him cast you
this piece. It is my hope, Tim, that you will wear this as a constant
reminder that I love you, that I respect you, and that I am grateful to you
for saving my life. Had you not told me how you feel, I would have likely
just had to leave my life here. But, you risked it. And I will be grateful
with every breath I take."

I took the ring out of the box and placed it on his right index finger. He
looked at me with a question. "We are taking a liberty here. If you wore
this ring on your ring finger, that would only elicit curiosity. Wear it on
this finger and it will look cool and not elicit questions about
commitments. You alone will know that this ring represents my pledge of
eternal love to you."

Tim looked at the ring, which looked incredible on his hand, and looked at
me, then at the ring, shaking his head softly. "Whoa," he whispered.

"Yea, I guess this isn't one of our normal days, is it?" I asked.

He smiled and said, "Thank you, Alex. This is the best thing I can imagine.
I used to imagine this, you know? I would spin all these fantasies where
you asked me to marry you, but it was never with a ring like this, it was
never in your home—our home—with our dog. I never could even begin to
imagine how our lives are. I love you! I love you so much, Alex. Oh, god, I
need you, now, please, I need..."

I picked him up, left the whole damned dinner at the table, and carried him
down the stairs to the room behind the locked door. I had wall sconces lit
and the soft flames flickered casting soft light around us. He felt so
light, all heat and passion and need, desire blasting from him to me and
back.

I stopped in the center of the room and still holding Tim.

He said, "Please, Alex, I am yours, let me be yours, fully. I feel a need
so deep inside me, I don't understand it, only that the voice attached
says, "Take me, use me, hurt me, make me yours, make me whole." Those words
have ALWAYS been words that I said to you in my mind, in my fantasy. I
don't know why, I only know that they exist. And, I've also imagined
demanding and commanding you, having you at my feet, kneeling, groveling.
These are all images that are fleeting, but they plague me, Alex, at night,
when you hold me, I wonder if I'm making them up or are they a part of
something real. Then, when you spoke about kink, I wondered if that was the
key.

Tim held my face close to his, "Please, Alex, TELL ME. I NEED TO KNOW."

Still holding him, I closed my eyes and centered myself. I invoked wisdom
and patience and sight. I opening my eyes and kissed my lover. "I love and
adore you, Tim. You are my heart and my teacher and my conscience. I will
do my best to fill in the blanks, and you must promise to stay in the
moment and tell me what you are feeling as you feel it. I will do my best
to do the same."

I let him stand and said, "Please take off your clothes." I went to the
corner and turned up the music and returned to him. "All of these toys,
this space, are simply window dressing. The core of this room does not need
any artifice. The core of the room is the power exchange. The rest is
nothing, save to possibly increase stimulation.

"Can you explain to me what the power exchange means to you, Tim?"

He stood and looked into my eyes and said, "When one person wants to
entrust another with a great gift, that person says, `To you, I offer up my
volition. I trust you to mould me; I trust you to do with me as befits your
will; I trust you to know that which is best for me.'"

I nearly did a double take and responded, "Did you just learn this, Timmy?"

He smiled and said, "No, when I first found myself with these desires, I
used Google. I learned that a lot of people really want to just whip or
hurt someone. It's easier to find those people than it is to find people
who will talk about what you call the power exchange."

"Forgive me for underestimating you, Tim," I said.

"No, Alex! You did not. You don't have a crystal ball, I never said a word.
How could you have known?"

"Thank you, wise young person, you are correct. Tell me, please, why do you
think in your imaginings you wanted for me to spank you, or hurt you?"

"I don't know. I wondered that, too. I think it's because I want to
experience being someone's person. And, the greatest degree of that I can
imagine is to fully give over. I was never anybody's person until you. And,
I don't want to ALWAYS be punished, hurt, or owned, but I do want to know
that we trust one another that completely, that our base is built from that
place. I think that's it anyway."

I tossed off my pants and folded myself onto the floor, which was wall to
wall wrestling mats, pulling Timmy down with me. I looped his legs over
mine, and we sat so close, in the middle of the room.

He trailed his hands down my shoulders and biceps, then stopped at the
tattoo on my left forearm. His eyes widened and he said, "Those aren't just
roses! I see a dagger! And a—a whip? What kind of whip is that?"

I laughed and said, "Ah, look at you seeing that which has been in front of
your face for a year in a new light....You are correct, the roses only hide
the dagger and the flogger, that's the whip. The tattoo is a study in *that
which is not as it seems, *and it never fails that people who only know
flowers see roses; people who know more see...more. Good job, Timmy."

"It's been there in front of me all along?" He asked rather piteously,
making me laugh heartily.

"Indeed, all along," I said, so proud of him, and so relieved.

"Well, it's a good thing I didn't know, because I'd probably never have had
the courage to tell you how I felt if I did know."

I just shook my head and said, "We are where we are, which right now is in
the dungeon. Shall we have a tour?" Tim looked around and blushed and said,
"I would very much like for you to spank me, Alex. Is there a proper way
for me to ask?"

"If you want to learn about propriety, the proper way for a submissive to
approach a Dominant is to not lead with what you want, rather make yourself
available to the Dominant. It's a bit like making a deposit at the bank
before you make a withdrawal. But, you must do it in such a way as to be
genuine. If you offer yourself with an implied quid pro quo, that will
likely anger your Dominant and that will not yield a result for which you
much care, I suspect."

"Ah, I understand. Very well, Alex, if I may, I would be most grateful if
you would consider me at the ready for service. Is there anything at all I
might offer to bring you joy or to ease your burden?"

I heard sincerity in his soul and I responded with every bit of my own
truth, "Dearest boy, you please me so greatly, I would use you in whichever
way you most long this evening."

"If I may, then, might I offer my butt for your pleasure? I would gladly
bear up under a spanking for which I've longed these many months."

"Finally, we've discovered one good outcome of your having grown up in a
formal home with one parent who is British," I laughed and Timmy cracked up
along with me.

"Indeed, Alex, it seems the language of a submissive and the language of my
youth are more than similar," he said and giggled.

"I'd be most happy to make use of your luscious ass, boy. We shall forego
the collar this evening and speak about that at a later date," I said,
standing and offering my arm. He stood gracefully and I pulled him to me.

"I can see the heat and hunger in your eyes, Tim. Please just say RED at
any point and I will stop, okay? I want this to be a lovely, hot experience
for you, but if you feel strange, emotionally or physically TELL me, okay?"

I kissed him, biting his lush lips, seeking and finding his tongue, sucking
it, aping a fucking motion, which elicited a moan.

"Yes, Alex, I promise, yes."

I led him to the vault and had him lean over. I tethered his wrists in the
leather straps and heard him moan as I snugged up his ankles after
adjusting them to the proper width, imagining the logical followup activity
post spanking and flogging.

I walked in front of him and rubbed his lips with my stiff rod. "Mmm, you
have the most luscious mouth, baby boy," I cooed, "but right now, I'm going
to give your equally luscious ass the attention for which you have
apparently longed these many months. I'm going to use my flogger on you,
Timmy, first, because it is the whip that I most love to wield and to
receive and second, because that is the pain that I believe you will love
the most. It's a deep heat, a thudding pain, and it builds until suddenly,
you may find yourself outside of your own reality. If you feel yourself
soaring, don't worry, it's your endorphins taking you on a little ride...."

I dragged the flogger across his rump so that he could feel the heaviness
of the lashes. "See how heavy they are? It feels soft against your skin,
doesn't it?" I said and brought the flogger down in an almost stroke.

"Mmm, yes, please," he whispered. Again, I flopped the flogger on his
backside, with a bit more strength, then I said, "Okay, now that you two
have met, I'll work up to showing you the business side of this whip.
Remember `Red,' is your safe word, Timmy. You may respond with `Yes, Sir.'"

"Oooh, yes sir!" he gasped.

I hit him with five relatively quick lashes, not at full strength, but
enough for him to feel the heat. I played the whip softly then, and began a
rhythm, back and forth, five on, a couple of soft swats. "Mmm, look at
that, your ass is nicely pinking up, baby," I said, "are you okay?"

"Yes, sir, I am, more please, please Alex, Sir, more...." I heard the need
in his voice but was unswayed.

I continued my program and gradually increased the intensity. I reached
underneath and when I felt Tim's cock harder than I'd ever felt it, I
moaned and intensified my strokes. "Your cock says that you really do like
this," I said. Five more lashes then I strolled to his head, picked up this
chin with my had to look into his eyes. They were far more dilated that the
last time I check his pain response.

"Suck me, lover," I said and he moaned "Yphhhm Srrr," as I filled his
hungry mouth. I thrust just a few strokes and then slid out to return to
the flogging.

"Time for more?" I asked.

"Oh PLEASE, Alex, Sir, yes!"

I began to flog him full strength, faster and hard, not letting up. He
started to moan and finally to yell. I reminded him to yell red and he
said, "Sir, MORE!" which I delivered. I flogged him until I heard his
breath changing. I wet a cloth with aloe and applied it to his ass, then
grabbed the lube and said, "I'm going to make you cum now, Tim. You're
incredible. I want you to give me every bit of you." I put my hands on his
shoulders and slowly opened his ass.

He was more relaxed that I'd ever encountered him. I slid inside him and
then fucked him hard and fast, not letting up. My cock felt huge as I
pummeled him, my balls burying all the way to his ass cheeks for the first
time. "You wanted all of me, Timmy, and you have me, I'm not holding back,"
I said as I pounded into him again and again.

"Yes, Sir, Alex, please, use me, take me," Tim grunted. "Please fuck me,
Alex! Oh god, Sir, I need you, I need this, please, don't stop, so good,"
be gasped as I dove into him.

His need, my need, the fast crescendo of pent up desire and hope and fear
and lust all came together as we each screamed out our sated hunger.

"I want to be good for you, Sir, Alex," he panted.

"Oh fuck baby, you are," I huffed back to him as the last spasms of my
orgasm pierced my body.

I held myself against his back not wanting to lean too hard on his welted
ass, then gently slid out, untethered his legs and arms, then pulled him
into my arms and took him to the couch on the west side of the room. I
wrapped us in a soft blanket, gave him a bottle of water to drink, and held
him. Tim drank and cried his release, then drank some more. I rocked him
and held him, kissing his face softly, his eyes, his forehead, his nose.

"Now you have met all of me, Timmy. I have no more secrets. This was never
meant to be a secret. First, it was simply inappropriate for me to share
with a client, and then, I just had to find the right time. I hope that
you're okay with this."

Tim looked at me with a goofy expression and said, "Okay? OKAY? Alexander
Drew, I am a puddle of relief and orgasmic bliss lying in your arms. This
is so far beyond OKAY as to be completely RIDICULOUS!"

I smirked at him and said, "Oh. Okay," then I laughed and laughed, feeling
years younger and more whole that I'd ever felt in my life.

"Yea, okay," I whispered as I kissed him again. And again. And....

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

This ends the first part of Alex & Timmy's life together. Stay tuned for
their next adventures. I've got some unfinished business with Father & Son
Byrne (in the Incest category). I have to go get that story line to a
better place before Alex & Timmy can more forward.  Thank you so much for
reading, Daniel