Date: Wed, 21 Aug 2002 13:17:09 +1000
From: Iain Robertson <iainlthr@hotmail.com>
Subject: Blind to Love

Copyright for this story belongs to and remains with the author. I don't
have any major objection to my work being re-distributed, but ASK FIRST!!!

This is a gay adult story with the consequent language and images. If
homosexuality and/or sexually explicit themes offend you then do not
continue. If these are illegal in your area, then you have my sympathy, but
you proceed at your own risk.

This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the
usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken
with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your
obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily.

I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may
inspire new work, please feel free to contact me -- all emails will be
answered to the best of my ability. Iainlthr@hotmail.com.


Blind To Love

	Iainlthr@hotmail.com

Nick was beside himself, jumping up and down with excitement. Not an unusual
situation for him to be in. The dark headed, olive skinned young man had a
tendency to get carried away over the smallest thing, so when he raced to
Ian ready to burst with news, his friend took little notice.

"I've found him, I've found him," Nick exclaimed as he grabbed Ian's arm,
tugging at his shirt to get attention.

Ian slowly looked to his friend, relinquishing the eye contact he had made
with a tall dark man across the room, and calmly, almost bored, focussed his
attention on his demanding mate.

"Found who?" he asked, trying to seem interested.

"Him! Mr Right!" Nick grinned. "Come and see, he's gorgeous!"

Ian allowed himself to be dragged along, to a corner of the bar where Nick
hunched to his friend's ear and pointed, none too subtly, to a tall blond.
"Isn't he stunning?" he hissed, grinning wildly.

"What's his name?" Ian asked.

"I don't know," said Nick quickly, his face becoming indignant. "We haven't
met yet."

"Have you even spoken to him?"

"Er, no, not yet. I'm just waiting for the right time ..."

Ian rolled his eyes. "For heaven sake, Nick. Has he even bothered to look at
you yet? He may be with someone, or he may not be interested at all. Or he
might be a serial killer for that matter!"

As he spoke, Ian looked at the object of his friend's desire. There was no
denying he was an attractive man. Wide shoulders and thick arms filled out a
tight t-shirt, and a shock of blond hair topped a tanned face. But Ian knew
what Nick was like -- instant love was what he was looking for, and the
chances of finding it here were pretty remote. He hadn't even approached
this man yet, and already he was hearing wedding bells. Would Nick never
learn? Ian felt yet again the strange pangs that twisted his stomach
whenever his best friend latched onto a new man. He couldn't explain the
feeling, or even identify it, but it happened every time.

The two had been friends forever. They had grown up together, had explored
their awakening sexuality with each other and knew they were both gay
without ever having to examine their feelings or agonise over coming out.
Almost identical in age, they told each other everything, and yet they were
as different as two people could be. Nick was slim, thin even, tall but
slight; dark haired, of Mediterranean heritage, and easily excited. He wore
his heart on his sleeve, and was emotionally mercurial. His mood could, and
often did, change in a split second, and everyone who knew him knew exactly
what he was thinking. And his sole purpose in life seemed to be to find
himself a husband and settle down.

Ian, on the other hand, was fair skinned and naturally blond. Not albino
blond, but the light colouring was definitely natural, as a number of his
sexual partners had remarked with surprise. He was slow to speak, choosing
his words carefully, and kept his inner thoughts very much to himself. It
took a lot to get him angry or excited, but when he did, it also took a long
while for him to calm down again.

The music changed, and Nick took a deep breath. "That's it, I'm gonna ask
him to dance," he said, making up his mind and heading toward the object of
his admiration. Ian sighed, and turned to watch, hoping for success, but
expecting the usual rejection and subsequent heartache that he had nursed
his friend through so many times before.

As Ian's eyes followed Nick around the bar, he thought to himself how much
Nick meant to him. They had never been lovers as such, apart from playing
around when they were very young, but somehow they were more than just
friends. They told each other everything about their various attempts at
finding love, and helped each other get over the inevitable pain of broken
relationships, although if Ian had thought about it carefully he would have
realised that he had come to Nick's aid far more often than the reverse.

Nick approached the man of his (current) dreams with ebbing confidence. It
had seemed like a good idea to ask him to dance back in the safety of Ian's
company, but as he got closer his doubts surfaced. But it was too late now
to back away.

"Hi," he said, trying to sound bright. "I'm Nick." He held out his hand in
greeting, and the man took it tentatively.

"John," he said, disinterestedly.

"How about a dance, handsome?" Nick pressed on.

John's face twisted into something between a smile and a grimace, and he
nodded non-committally. Nick led the way onto the floor and John followed,
looking up and down at Nick's frame, sizing him up. They faced each other
and writhed to the music for five minutes or so, as Nick concentrated on
trying to catch John's attention. John, however, seemed to be far more
interested in the other guys on the floor, or on trying to catch his own
reflection in the mirrors that surrounded them, than in Nick. As the music
faded for the end of one number, and before it could build again, John
turned and walked back to the bar where he had been standing before. Nick
followed close behind, almost like a puppy, thought Ian as he watched from a
distance.

"Not your kind of music?" Nick commented as his potential new friend came to
a stop.

"S'alright ..." John responded.

"Tired out, are you? Big day, eh?" Nick persisted.

"Nah."

"You want a drink?" Nick's voice began to show his dwindling hope as John
feigned lack of interest in anything he said.

The big man finally turned to face Nick directly. "Listen, mate," he said
quietly. "You're probably a nice guy, and I guess you could be good company,
but I'm really not interested."

Nick's face fell. He tried one more time. "But how do you know unless you
give me a chance?" he pleaded, silently cursing the give-away tremble in his
voice.

"You're just not my type," said John simply.

"Well, what is your type?"

The well-built John sighed. "You're too skinny. Get some beef, do some
workouts. You look like you'll snap in a strong wind."

Nick said nothing more. He turned away quickly, trying to hide the tears
welling up. Ian had watched the exchange, had seen his friend's face fall,
and knew the signs. As Nick stumbled toward him, Ian went to catch him up,
throwing his arm over Nick's shoulder.

"C'mon, mate," Ian said soothingly. "It's not the end of the world. Let's
get out of here and have a coffee." He led his friend through the throng and
out onto the street, finding a cafe and grabbing a table on the footpath.

"It's okay," said Ian quietly. "He wasn't worth getting upset about."

"Yes he was!" insisted Nick. "He was beautiful, and polite, it was me who
didn't measure up ..."

Ian shook his head in disbelief. "Nick, how can you think that? You spoke to
the guy for all of five minutes and he turned you down. No-one can get to
know someone that quick. Forget him."

"No," sobbed Nick. "He is the one for me, I just know it. He told me to
build myself up, to get some muscle. And he's right. I need to start working
out, join a gym and get fit. Then he'll want me, I know it!"

"You're crazy!" Ian couldn't believe his friend was serious. "You're going
to change your whole life for someone you don't know, who you have hardly
even spoken to? For god's sake Nick, get real!"

Nick answered with a vengeance that surprised his friend. "I am real, and I
am going to do it! It's about time I improved myself, and this is just the
motivation I need. You'll see! When I'm done, John will want me as much as I
want him."

Ian looked hard at Nick, still not able to believe that he was serious.
"Alright," he said slowly, "if you want to get fit, then I'll join you and
we'll both do it. But do it for yourself, for your own self respect, not
just for some dumb shit who won't remember you tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Nick said casually. Ian knew what he was thinking,
but hoped that time would bring some common sense, and besides, getting fit
wouldn't be a bad idea after all.

A few days later, Ian was surprised to find that Nick had not lost the
enthusiasm of that night for working out. He was still determined to build
himself up and to impress the guy from the bar. So together they wandered
into one of the gyms near where Nick lived, and signed up for a membership.
The usual new member evaluation session concluded with Nick declaring that
he wanted bulging arms and thighs, a washboard stomach, and chiselled pecs.
Ian, for his part, simply stated that he wanted to get fit and put on a
little bulk, and they were recommended to the same regimen of exercises and
workouts as each other.

Over the next few months, the two friends kept at the programme religiously.
Well, Ian kept at it religiously, and made sure that Nick followed him
along. More times than Ian cared to admit, Nick protested against another
workout, or claimed some undefined ache or illness, but Ian refused to
listen, dragging his friend into the gym and reminding him that it was
Nick's idea to build up. Ian tried not to remind Nick about John, the guy
from the bar who had unknowingly started all of this, but somehow, Nick just
wouldn't let go of the idea that he was going to impress John into falling
for him as soon as Nick re-appeared with his all new and improved bod! Ian
had serious reservations about that prospect, but at the same time he could
see a very real improvement in both Nick's and his own health and fitness,
so he kept his opinions to himself and kept pushing Nick into the exercises.

Before long, the continual workouts began to show results. Nick's upper arms
were certainly becoming noticeable knots of taut muscle, and his chest was
expanding nicely, the muscle building up and stretching his olive skin to
form desirable mounds of pectoral excellence. Ian too, was developing very
nicely, his abdomen showing the ridges of trained muscle, his thighs
rippling beneath the tight lycra shorts he preferred to wear. More than once
he was the subject of admiring stares from other guys in the gym, but he
failed to notice them, concentrating as always on his best friend, making
sure Nick kept at the weights and the aerobics. He felt good in himself, but
Ian saved his admiration for Nick's developing physique, complimenting him
on the progress he was making, and quietly enjoying the improving view his
mate's body provided with the passing weeks.

And still Nick rabbited on whenever they took a chance to sit and talk,
about John. John this, John that. Ian tried to remind him that John and he
had so far engaged in conversation for a total of ten minutes, and had one
short and not too successful dance together, but Nick seemed convinced that
John and he were practically engaged, and Ian's heart sank yet again, as the
pangs of unidentified fear and concern gnawed at him more and more often.

One afternoon, almost six months after they had joined the gym together, Ian
wandered into the changing room a little late. For a change, Nick had
actually arrived on his own and ahead of time, and was already stripped out
of his street clothes. Ian glanced into the locker area, and found himself
presented with a magnificent view of Nick's naked body. Without thinking,
Ian stopped, and let his eyes roam over the manly form as Nick rummaged in
his locker. Nick's arms were strong and thick, his chest tight, the dark
round skin of his nipples perched on the edge of pecs that were invitingly
hard. Ian's eyes continued to feast on the sight of Nick's sculpted abs, and
the rippling muscles of his pumped thighs. As Nick turned towards him, still
looking down, Ian took a long, desiring look at the thick tube of uncut
flesh between Nick's legs, swinging free as its owner searched for his
jockstrap. Suddenly Ian felt a twitch in his groin, the surprising and
unexpected ache of arousal brought on by the sight of Nick, naked and close.

Ian coughed, a bolt of electricity shooting through him as he panicked at
what had happened. He and Nick were best friends, mates, buddies. He
couldn't be attracted to Nick sexually! It would be like incest, or worse.

Nick heard the cough from his friend, and looked up quickly, breaking into a
grin.

"Hey, slowcoach. You ready for a session yet?" he laughed.

"Uh, yeah, `course," Ian stammered, his head a confusion of emotions and
thoughts at what had just happened to him.

The two went about their usual routine, but Ian had trouble concentrating as
he tried to sort out his inner feelings. Nick failed to notice, and chatted
on happily as they strained at the weights and swung into the aerobic
exercises. Finally, Ian was brought back to earth when Nick stopped
altogether, faced him squarely, and announced loudly: "You haven't heard a
thing I've said all afternoon, have you?"

Ian looked up guiltily, as heads turned toward them. Off to a side, one of
the regulars commented in a loud whisper "typical married couple!", and
several others stifled laughs.

"Sorry, mate," Ian apologised. "I was a million miles away."

"I thought so," said Nick, grinning. "I asked you if you were doing anything
Friday night? I want to go back to the bar where I met John, I think it's
about time I showed him the new me, what do you think?"

Ian's face fell yet again, and another of those mysterious pangs made his
stomach turn. "Yeah, sure," he answered.

"What, no lecture, no warning about how I shouldn't get my hopes up?" Nick
laughed, the surprise evident in his eyes.

"Nah," Ian grinned, recovering his composure. "I've told you often enough
now. You're big enough and ugly enough to get yourself into trouble if you
want to." With that he pushed at his friend. "Come on, handsome, let's get
to it!"

"Handsome, eh?" Nick mocked him. "You ain't so bad looking yourself, stud!"
he commented, looking at Ian as if for the first time, with admiration in
his eyes. "Maybe, I should forget about John and race you off to bed!" he
laughed.

Nick almost choked, the colour draining from his face at the words. He
turned away quickly so that his expression wouldn't give him away, and
covered with a quick snort. "As if I'd have you!" he muttered loudly, hoping
Nick hadn't seen his initial reaction. As a result, he didn't see the
fleeting cloud of doubt which passed across Nick's face as the possibility
of what he had said sunk home. But Nick dismissed it quickly, and turned his
mind again to the dream of his long awaited and anticipated meeting with
John.

Friday came far too quickly for Ian's liking, but he steeled himself for the
inevitable, and together he and Nick entered the bar. Ian found a quiet spot
and ordered them both a drink, while Nick bounced around with excitement,
scanning the faces for his Mr Right. Ian begged Nick to take it easy, not to
get his hopes up, but nothing he could say had any effect on his friend.
About half an hour after they arrived, John showed up, and Nick almost fell
off his stool with excitement. "For God's sake, Nick, don't throw yourself
at him," Ian remonstrated to Nick's back as he disappeared into the crowd,
making for the spot where John leaned against the bar.

But the workouts and the exercising seemed to have paid off. Ian watched
quietly as Nick and John talked, and he could see that John was interested
this time, taking notice of Nick's new physique and paying attention to him
right from the start. With a sinking heart and a new churning in his
stomach, Ian stood, lost in a kind of masochistic voyeurism as Nick and John
danced and chatted, and began to get very friendly right there in the bar,
hands groping over each other's bodies. When Nick tore himself away from his
new friend, and hurried over to Ian to announce that he and John were going
home together, and would Ian be okay to get home alone?, Ian's head spun,
and he felt as though he had been kicked in the gut.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he nodded to his mate, and Nick disappeared again. Ian
watched them leave, hand in hand, and suddenly he wanted to be anywhere but
there. He left the place as fast as possible, and wandered slowly home, a
sick feeling in his stomach, and an ache in his head. Why did he feel like
this? He had never before been so concerned when Nick had gone home with
another man. It was Nick's life after all, and he could do whatever he
wanted. Ian was his friend, not his mother, so why did he feel this way?
Suddenly, Ian felt more lonely than he had ever felt before, and he didn't
know why, or what to do about it.

Nick was ecstatic. All his dreams were coming true. John had looked
impressed as soon as he'd seen him, had complimented him on his build.
They'd danced for ages, smiled at each other, and John had insisted on
hearing all about Nick's workout regime, commenting on some things,
suggesting other things Nick could do to keep building up, or to improve
definition. John had copped a squeeze of Nick's buns, and asked if he would
like to go home. Nick grinned stupidly. He had done it. He was going home
with his `Mr Right'. All the hours of sweat and strain had been worth it.

When they got to John's place, Nick looked around, expecting an offer of
coffee, or a chance to sit and talk some more. The place was a mess, clothes
strewn around the rooms, dirty dishes on benchtops and balancing
precariously on the sink. Nick looked for a place to sit, but John was
having none of that. "C'mon, man," he hissed, leading Nick straight into the
bedroom, where he quickly began to fumble at Nick's belt, trying to strip
the clothes from him with little finesse and even less sensuality.

Ignoring the lack of preliminaries, Nick followed John's lead, and they were
soon naked. John's hands pawed at Nick, squeezing his arms and massaging his
butt, running up and down his abdomen. Nick moved to pull John toward him,
leaning in to kiss the handsome blond, but John pulled back and breathed
deeply, "You look great, man," he said. "That bod is really shaping up. A
bit more time and effort, and you'll be a real stud!"

Nick looked shocked at the comment, but realised John had intended it as a
compliment, and he smiled uneasily.

"Let's get into bed," John said quickly, throwing the covers off, and diving
onto the mattress as he did. He lay back and motioned for Nick to join him,
and Nick looked down at the inviting body, just waiting for him. There was
something familiar about John now that Nick had a chance to take a long
appraising look -- he reminded him of someone else, but he just couldn't
think who. Nick happily slid into bed, snuggling close to John, his arms
reaching out to embrace the muscled blond form beside him. But John was not
in the mood for a slow build-up or tender foreplay.

"Come on, man," he grinned, pulling Nick over on top of himself and
wriggling underneath. "Let's fuck!"

Nick was discomfited by the directness of John's approach, and the lack of
preliminaries. "Don't I get a hug, or even a kiss first?" he pouted.

"What? Oh, how about next time, stud?" John hissed. "Right now I just want
you to have sex with me. I want to feel your pumped up body against mine,
and I want your cock inside me, you hunk!" John gasped. He was already so
excited, his cock engorged and throbbing, that Nick thought for a moment
that John would probably start without him if he waited any longer!

Despite the reservations he felt, Nick was quickly aroused. The sight of
John lying there below him, begging Nick to make love to him, was more than
enough to stimulate his desire. He quickly rolled a condom down over his
swollen penis, smearing lube onto himself and around John's arse. With the
man of his dreams writhing below him, urging him on, Nick leaned forward,
and his cock entered John's sphincter with little resistance, pushing
through the knot of muscle and slipping inwards quickly. Nick tried to ease
himself into the man below, but John gave a strangled sound and humped
backward, driving Nick's cock deep into his bowels. As Nick began to thrust
at the writhing body, trying to find a rhythm, John's legs wrapped around
his back and pulled him down hard, as John lurched against his partner,
forcing Nick to fuck at him quickly. Muttering urgent pleas, John bucked and
squirmed under the somewhat bemused Nick, humping against Nick's throbbing
tool and clenching at him with his sphincter.

Nick tried to slow the pace a little, tried to inject some tenderness into
the sex, but John seemed almost impatient with him, calling out in a
guttural voice, "Fuck me, man, pound that cock into me. Harder, harder, I
want you to really fuck me!" Nick tried to oblige, but nothing he did seemed
to satisfy John, and Nick felt somehow at a loss in the midst of what should
have been his most wonderful moment. Suddenly, John grabbed at Nick with
both arms, and rolled over, keeping Nick buried within him as they reversed
positions, so that Nick now lay flat on his back and John knelt over him,
Nick's prong still tightly clutched within John's anus.

As he gained the upper position, John began to use his own weight to drive
himself down onto Nick, then lift off again before slamming his body harder
against the upright prong below him. He trembled in the throes of passion,
his hands flat against Nick's washboard stomach, or pushing into the muscles
of Nick's chest as he fucked himself on the younger man below him. Suddenly,
without warning, John went rigid, his body tensing and his hands fell to his
own cock as he jerked at himself, hard and fast. Within seconds a stream of
jism flew from his prick and smattered over Nick's stomach and chest, as
John's arse clamped tight around Nick's manhood. Almost as quickly as he
started, John finished himself, and lifted his body away from Nick, smiling
a look of satisfaction. He turned and pulled the condom from Nick, and
wrapped his palm around the young man's prick, yanking and pulling at him
until Nick finally came, a half-hearted spray of juice leaving his cockhead
and smearing over John's hand.

Instantly, John was up and off the bed, reaching for a towel as he wiped
first himself and then, almost as an afterthought, Nick, clean. "Thanks,
Rick," he said, "that was fantastic."

Nick lay there stunned. He could have cried. "Nick," he said. "My name's
Nick, not Rick."

"Oh, sorry about that, Nick. But you were great, man."

Nick bit back the urge to comment that he was surprised John had even
noticed. His physical needs had been satisfied, more or less, but he felt
empty, used and wanting. He brightened when John came back into the room and
sat on the edge of the bed, his hand resting lightly on Nick's stomach.
Maybe now there would be time for the romance Nick craved. John's next words
hammered into his head like so many thunderbolts.

"So, man, you okay to get home? Or would you like me to call you a taxi?"

Nick looked at John with contempt this time. He fought the tears welling up
inside. "There's no need for you to call me anything!" he declared, a hiss
in his voice. In a blind rage, he grabbed at his clothes, pulling them on
haphazardly, and stormed out of the place, slamming the door as hard as he
could manage as he left. He had no idea whether John had said another word
to him, and no desire to find out.

On the street, the whole scene re-playing in his head, Nick crumpled onto a
bench, and sobbed his heart out. He was shattered, lost, and as if by
instinct he made his way toward the one person who always understood, who
always picked up the pieces and got him back together again -- Ian.

Ian wasn't asleep when the knocking started at his door. When he left the
bar, he'd gone home feeling more alone than he ever remembered. He had tried
watching some TV, then picked up a book before putting it down again.
Hopping into bed, he had tossed and turned for an hour, as pictures kept
coming to his mind of Nick and John together, kissing and hugging, making
love with each other. He had tried to ignore the images, tried to tell
himself it meant nothing to him, but he was jealous as hell. How could Nick
possibly have gone home with that fool, he asked himself? And then the
realisation hit him. He attempted to convince himself it wasn't true, but
deep in his heart he knew it was -- he was in love with Nick. He had no
reason to be, and no right to feel this way, but he did. Ian ached with the
knowledge, and his heart felt as if it were breaking.

And then Nick was there at his door! For a split second Ian didn't see the
tears, or the dishevelled clothing, just Nick, staring into his eyes. He
lunged forward and threw his arms around his friend, holding him tight. His
prayers had been answered.

Nick began to sob. "Oh, Ian, it was awful. How could I have ever thought he
was the one."

It occurred to Ian that Nick was upset. His protective instincts kicked in.
"Nick, Nick, are you okay? What happened? Did he hurt you?" Ian pulled Nick
inside the flat, closing the door quickly, concern and rising anger in his
voice.

"No, not like that," Nick stuttered. "But he just wanted sex. I feel so
dirty, so stupid." Again, Nick broke down in sobs, as Ian held him tight.
Together they sat on the sofa, Nick's head buried in Ian's chest, his body
wrapped in Ian's arms. Ian cooed at him softly.

"It's okay, man. You're okay now. He wasn't worth it. Just relax, get it out
of your system."

Locked together, they rocked slowly back and forth on the lounge. Nick cried
himself to sleep, while Ian held the man he now knew he loved, gently
caressing the soft hair and wishing away his worries.

When Nick woke the next morning he was still lying with his head on Ian's
lap, and his friend was asleep sitting up on the sofa. He sat upright, and
the memories of the previous night flooded back. His movement woke Ian, who
looked at him with an unusual stare.

"How are you feeling now?" Ian asked quietly.

"Better, I guess," was Nick's slow response. "Ian, I'm so sorry. You were
right all along and I wouldn't listen. He was awful, he didn't want me, he
just wanted a body, preferably with muscles, to have sex with. He wouldn't
even kiss me ..." Nick began to sniffle again as he tried to regain control of
his emotions.

"It's okay," Ian replied. "So you made a mistake! We all do. Just forget
him. At least you've got one hell of a hot bod now to attract the guys." He
laughed softly as he spoke, trying to get Nick to brighten up. "Why don't
you go and get into bed, try to get some more sleep. I'm going to have a
shower, and then if you're still awake, I'll make us some breakfast."

Nick nodded absently to Ian's suggestion, and did as he was told, lying on
Ian's bed. He tossed and turned, unable to get any more sleep, as he heard
the running water of his mate's shower from the bathroom. To his mind came
the memory of a couple of things that Ian had said lately. He remembered Ian
had called him handsome the other afternoon in the gym, and he could swear
now that Ian had blushed when he'd called him a stud and made some joke
about rushing him off to bed. He thought about Ian's comment just a few
minutes ago about Nick having a great bod. He puzzled over what it meant,
and wondered at the mixed feelings he had himself about John, and Ian.

As he lay there, Ian walked into the room, towelling his hair dry. With
another towel around his waist, and his arms up to his face, Ian stood only
a metre from where Nick lay on the bed. Nick looked long and hard at his
friend, and for the first time noticed that Ian too had developed a great
physique as a result of the months of workouts. His arms bulged, the muscles
flexing as he rubbed at his head. His abs were cut and clear, standing out
under his taut, fair skin. Ian's chest was a classic sculpture of
perfection. With his blond hair, he looked like ... like John! Nick suddenly
realised, with surprise. Like John but better, somehow. He continued to
stare, as Ian finished his drying and looked down at the wide eyed man on
his bed.

"You okay?" he asked, seeing a strange look of revelation on Nick's face.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Nick assured him as Ian sat down on the side of
the bed, his hand resting on Nick's shoulder in a subconscious gesture of
concern. As he did, Nick sat upright, so that they were side by side, facing
each other. Ian looked to Nick questioningly, and Nick returned the stare
for a moment as he reached a decision in his head. Suddenly, quickly, Nick
leaned forward and kissed Ian's lips, his hand falling to Ian's leg where he
slowly caressed the soft skin, fresh and clean from its shower.

Ian's first reaction to the kiss was one of shock, but he didn't pull away.
The surprise quickly turned into delight as they held the kiss, lips opening
and tongues making tentative forays into each other's mouth, and the delight
grew into arousal as Ian felt tingles race through him with the touch of
Nick's hand on his leg. Ian's hand slipped from Nick's shoulder, to trace
along his ribs and across his belly, and the kiss increased in intensity as
they began to explore teeth and gums, to taste each other and revel in the
wonder of newly discovered feelings. After an eternity, they finally broke
the kiss, separating slightly and looking deeply into each other's eyes. A
smile spread slowly across both faces as the two men allowed themselves to
acknowledge what had happened, and to accept that it was right.

Without a word, Ian swivelled around, and together they fell back onto the
sheets, side by side. They kissed again, hands reaching for bodies, fingers
tracing across skin as they trembled and shook with the beginnings of
passion. Nick rolled onto his side, pushing Ian back, flat on the bed. His
mouth attacked Ian's again, then licked at his mate's chin before tracing
its way down his neck. Nick licked and nibbled his way over Ian's chest as
Ian sighed with pleasure, his hands roaming over Nick's back and shoulders,
his fingers pushing through Nick's hair and holding tightly to the beautiful
head that attacked his body. When Nick's moist lips touched the head of
Ian's swollen, throbbing cock, Ian gasped. He was so hard he hurt, and
Nick's tongue was so feathery soft. Nick licked at the slit of Ian's prick,
tasting the first droplets of pre-cum that had already appeared, and
proceeded to slowly and sensuously lick his way down along the shaft,
sending spasms of joy through Ian's frame. He nibbled gently at the rolling
nuts in their sac of skin, before taking them right into his mouth and
massaging them with his tongue. Ian groaned with delight.

Nick pressed onwards. Letting Ian's testicles plop from his mouth, he
manoeuvered himself around, lifting Ian's legs and gaining access to the
tender skin between his legs. Nick flicked his tongue over the sensitive
perinaeum and Ian moaned again. He knew what Ian loved. Hadn't they told
each other everything about what they liked and what they didn't so many
times? As his mouth licked and probed at the soft pink pucker of Ian's arse,
Nick marvelled that he and Ian had been able to share so much, and yet
failed to realise that they were the perfect couple. Lifting his face away,
he leaned forward as Ian wrapped his legs around Nick's body. Again they
kissed as Ian guided Nick's steel hard prick down to rub along the crack of
his arse, and pinched at the skin of Nick's earlobes. This time Nick groaned
with pleasure. Just as he knew what turned Ian on, Ian knew exactly what to
do to get Nick's blood boiling.

Ian found Nick's hand with his own, and guided it to the bedside drawer,
where a bottle of lube was within easy reach. Still soundless, apart from
the occasional sighs and moans of pleasure, their eyes met again, a smiling
recognition of what was happening, and acknowledgement that they both wanted
it. Nick applied the cool gel of the lube to his throbbing cock, and smeared
more around Ian's hole, massaging it in with his fingers and ensuring his
mate's sphincter was liberally coated. Ian lifted his legs again to Nick's
shoulders as Nick kneeled between them, and slowly nudged his hard, aching
prick toward Ian's twitching target. As skin connected with skin, the two
men looked deeply into each other's eyes, and nodded. There was no need for
prophylactics here. Each knew the other was HIV negative, both knew exactly
what they had done sexually. They knew everything about each other, except
this long hidden feeling for one another.

Ian pushed back against the firmness of Nick's manhood, willing himself to
relax and to accept his friend. He trembled with anticipation, and ached
with need as his mate inched inward. With a small grimace of pain/pleasure,
Ian felt his own muscle surrender, and Nick was inside him, the head of the
hard dark cock penetrating him as his sphincter clenched around Nick's
glans. He felt Nick stop and wait as he adjusted to the sensation of being
filled, and Ian looked longingly into Nick's eyes. Nick began to slide
slowly into him, and Ian gasped with joy as his lover's rock hard pole ever
so gradually pushed its way into his body. He marvelled at the indescribable
pleasure of having Nick enter him like this. The unbelievable sensation of a
naked cock, free of the confining latex that safety normally required,
assaulting his arse was amazing, but even more incredible was the joy of
having the man that he loved make love to him. Ian was no virgin, but this
was like his first time, yet so much better.

Nick struggled to maintain his composure as he breached Ian's hole for the
first time. Waiting for a second to allow his partner to adjust, and to
catch his breath, he ached with the delight of making slow tender love.
Pressing forward again, his entire body trembled as his dick probed slowly,
slowly into Ian's body, the wet heat of his mate's bowel enveloping him and
the clamping ring of muscle gripping at the shaft of his weapon. Nick had
expected that sex without a condom would be different, but this was
fantastic, and he felt so much more aroused, found the sensations so much
more erotic because the man below him was someone he loved with all his
heart.

Finally, Nick came to rest, the entire length of his masculinity buried deep
within Ian. The two men grunted in unison as the enormity of their coupling,
and the joy of their union, struck home. Nick leaned forward and down, and
Ian lifted his head to meet him, so their mouths met in a long kiss of
passionate ecstasy. They remained locked together, joined at the groin and
the mouth, for several minutes as they savoured the delight of truly making
love.

With the end of the kiss, Nick began to move again, slowly withdrawing a
little, and pushing back in again. As he did, Ian constricted his sphincter
against the flesh of Nick's pole, gripping at him before relaxing as his
lover surged forward. The two soon fell into an easy, gentle rhythm as Nick
moved in and out of Ian, their bodies melding as one. Ian quivered as his
arse was massaged and his bowel filled by the warm, powerful sword of Nick's
rod. Nick for his part trembled in ecstatic pleasure as the hot moist cavern
of Ian's innards wrapped around him, caressing his very manhood. Ian and
Nick did more than have sex, they made love. And they rocked together like
this for what seemed an eternity, immersed in erotic delight.

But even with the care they took to prolong their loving, and despite their
efforts at resting and waiting to allow the growing urges to subside, base
instinct overwhelmed each of them. Nick tingled as the tempo of his
insertions increased, his entire being seemed concentrated in the sensual
shocks generated within his cock. Ian too felt the waves of pleasure sweep
up and over him, an irresistible sensation that emanated from his rectum,
and sent notes of impassioned need through the rest of his body. Faster and
faster Nick thrust, harder and harder his body pumped into his lover. Soon
he was pounding his long, fleshy dagger deep into Ian, plugging his partner
with a ferocity born of uninhibited passion. Ian's legs were wrapped around
Nick's back, and he used the leverage to pull his man deeper and deeper into
himself, humping up at Nick in rampant need as they sweated and gasped
together, forming a single writhing being, the embodiment of masculine sex.
They moaned and hissed as one, rutting furiously, fucking each other. Nick
fell forward, his palms behind Ian's shoulders as he tried to pull his lover
further onto himself, tried to bury his pole more deeply in the squelching,
gripping cavity of Ian's being. Ian's arms were trapped by his sides, but
his hands found the firm round orbs of Nick's butt, and he squeezed and
pulled at his man, desperately trying to take all of Nick within his aching,
needing body.

Nick knew his climax was approaching fast. He tried to hold back, but the
demands of nature were pushing him to the brink. His nuts contracted and his
cock swelled within the sheath of Ian's arse. He began to shout a warning,
but his voice was cut off as pure ecstasy engulfed him. Ian heard the
strangled cry from his mate at the very moment that his body spasmed with
surrender and his balls emptied their precious load. He felt Nick go rigid
within him as his cock exploded, long thick streamers of cum shooting
between the trembling bodies, and coating both of them in white hot globs of
manjuice. Nick watched with a detached, glazed look as Ian's jism poured
from his long throbbing prick. His own masculinity, sunk so far inside this
beautiful man, ached and twitched as he filled Ian's body with his  essence,
a torrent of ejaculate flowing from him and into the already heated cavern
of Ian's bowel. As one, their orgasms crashed upon them, shook them both
with the ultimate joy of release, and locked them together. And together,
they began to subside. Suddenly, exhaustion took over, and Nick collapsed
onto Ian's sweating frame, his now spent cock still lodged in his lover's
hole, as Ian went limp beneath him, his energy sapped.

Their lips found each other again, and this time their kiss lingered, drawn
out and tender as they slowly disentangled themselves. Lying side by side
again, arms around each other, they relaxed in the warm afterglow of
post-coital bliss, the sated joy of sharing the most intimate experience two
people can know.

Finally, Nick broke the silence. Lifting his head to rest on his hand, he
looked down at Ian's smiling face. "I love you," he said quietly.

"I know," replied Ian. "And I love you. I always have, I just didn't realise
it until last night."

"Thank you, John!" Nick said in whisper. Ian looked shocked.

"John?!? That bastard?"

"Uh huh," replied Nick. "If it wasn't for him looking so much like you, but
at the same time being such a shit, then I might never have found my Mr
Right. All these years I've been looking for the perfect man, and you've
been right here the whole time. How could I have missed it?"

"Well, my love," Ian said, then stopped. " `my love' -- I like the sound of
that. Well, my love, I guess we were both blind to love, but our eyes are
open now, and I'm not letting you get away!"

Nick simply smiled, and leaned forward again, kissing his man. Together they
rolled back onto the bed, both lost in the joy of true happiness.

The End


Comments, complaints or compliments? Contact me at iainlthr@hotmail.com

This story is a fantasy, it is not real and only happened in my imagination.
YOU MUST REMEMBER that in the real world, you can DIE from having unsafe
sex. It is your right and your duty to make sure that condoms are always
used, whether you are giving or receiving. It doesn't matter how good
looking or how ugly he is, and it doesn't matter whether you are top or
bottom, USE A CONDOM!