Date: Mon, 8 Nov 1999 16:21:21 -0500 (EST)
From: Felix Lance Falkon <falkon@netaxs.com>
Subject: "Deductible" {Felix Lance Falkon} (MMM)
X-NO-ARCHIVE: yes
(except for Nifty Archive)
"Deductible?" M/M, indoors, oral & anal sex, humor
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[Usual warnings apply: no one under age admitted without parent]
[or guardian, for external use only, shake well before using, ]
[slippery when wet, this end up, use no hooks when lifting. ]
[ ]
[Copyright (C) 1999 by Felix Lance Falkon; you may save or make]
[paper copies for your own use; do not post, repost, publish, ]
[or archive except Nifty Archive without author's permission. ]
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(The ** starts emphasis [underline/italics]; * ends emphasis.)
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DEDUCTIBLE?
by Felix Lance Falkon
``Okay, Lance,'' said Christopher, running his fingers
through his crisp blond hair, ``your records are in pretty good
shape; I won't have any trouble doing your taxes now. Your
publisher pays by check -- and you've got copies of all the
checks **and* the deposit slips. You've got all the usual
business expenses covered -- postage, paper, a few phone calls.
And of course there's the depreciation that you professional
writers can take on word-processing equipment. But this one that
I've just found . . .'' The young accountant pulled out a sheet
of paper, flattened it on the desk, and looked up at his client.
``Oh, that's for Jake,'' said Lance. ``He's -- he's kind of
a consultant.''
``No bills? Receipts? Things like that?''
Lance shook his head slowly. ``He's strictly cash. In his
line of work -- well, I don't think anybody's ever asked him for
a receipt. And since I write gay porno -- uh -- maybe we'd just
forget about it.''
``If it's a necessary business expense, then it's
deductible,'' Christopher said firmly, ``just as travel expenses
are for people who write travel guides. Now, just what kind of
personal services does he perform?''
``Well, it's sort of hard to explain.'' The writer licked
his lips. ``I mean, it's one thing to write about it, but
**explaining* . . . Look, maybe we should drop the whole --''
Christopher heard the doorbell chime.
``Damn, I forgot.'' Lance jumped to his feet. ``Jake
couldn't get here yesterday, so he's coming in today instead.''
He glanced out the window. ``Yep, that's him.''
``So let him in. **I'll* talk to him.''
The doorbell chimed again. Lance hurried to the front door,
opened it wide.
``Hi, Lance.'' The visitor's voice was deep; Christopher
saw that the visitor himself was an impressive specimen: big-
boned and tall, magnificently broad at the shoulder, narrow at
waist and hip, with muscles that rippled under tanned skin and
tightly stretched T-shirt; yet he moved with almost feline grace
as he strode into the house.
``Hi, Jake,'' said Lance. ``Christopher's working on tax
records. Maybe if you could come back in about --''
``No, no,'' said Christopher. ``This is perfect.'' He
turned to the splendidly muscular visitor. ``Jake, I want to
find out more about the consulting services you've been
providing to Mr. Falkon -- to Lance.'' The accountant turned to
the writer, said, ``You said you have to drop something off at
the Post Office before it closes. You do that while I talk with
Jake. We'll get this straightened out in a flash.''
``But . . .'' Lance glanced at his watch. ``Well, okay
then,'' he said doubtfully. Christopher saw Lance grab a
manuscript box from his desk, him glance worriedly at Jake, and
hurry out the door.
``Now, about this -- uh -- consulting --'' the young
accountant began saying, but Jake was already striding across
the room.
``Be with ya in a sec,'' said Jake. ``Gotta shower. Just
got in from the gym -- real hard workout today -- got a contest
coming up.''
``But --'' Christopher followed Jake, who was stripping off
his T-shirt as he strode through the bedroom.
Jake tossed his shirt aside; at the bathroom door, he
stopped long enough to unfasten his belt. He turned back, handed
Christopher a brown envelope. ``Here, take a look. Just picked
this up at Eddie's.'' He stepped out of his trousers, hung them
on a chair, then strode into the bathroom, leaving Christopher
holding the envelope.
``Things are going too fast for me,'' grumbled the young
accountant. He scowled at the bathroom door, which Jake had left
open. Christopher heard the shower start. ``Too **fucking*
fast,'' he added as he sprawled on the bed and pulled a magazine
from the envelope. He flipped it open without looking at the
cover. He started to leaf through the magazine idly, then
stopped and stared. Yes, that page **did* show one man ripping
off another's clothes. And the next page showed them half naked
-- and a couple of pages later, both men were completely naked,
and one was forcing the other to the floor and -- Christopher
fumbled for the next scene -- climbing on him with his cock up
hard, just as if he was going to -- Christopher turned the page
-- yes, it was rape. Christopher paged slowly through the rest
of the story, then started through it again.
A touch on Christopher's shoulder jerked his attention from
the magazine. He looked up. Jake had a strange smile on his
face.
``Ya like that route, Chris?'' Jake asked.
``Uh -- it looks -- it's really --'' Christopher closed the
magazine, handed it back to Jake, and suddenly realized that
Jake was naked -- his powerful body completely bare. ``I mean --
uh --'' He stopped, feeling his eyes go wide. Jake's cock was
big, already half-hard, and was stiffening as Christopher
watched.
``Suits me too.'' Jake tossed the magazine aside. ``Now
let's see if that's as much fun as it looks.'' He turned to the
bureau, muttering, ``Lance always keeps some my size -- ah --
here they are. He turned back, and Christopher saw that Jake's
now-condom-covered shaft was all the way up. With one hand, Jake
pushed Christopher onto the bed, the other groped for
Christopher's crotch.
``Hey -- wait -- don't!'' yelled the young accountant as
strong fingers clutched his cock through his trousers. Jake
squeezed, and Christopher realized the pictures had given him a
hard-on. ``But I'm not --'' he gasped, but Jake was sitting
astride Christopher's thighs, peeling off Christopher's shirt,
opening his trousers. The young accountant wriggled and
squirmed, but Jake's weight and strength were too much:
Christopher was pinned, stripped, and rolled on his stomach.
Christopher felt Jake climb aboard, felt Jake's naked body
press on Christopher's, felt Jake's arms and legs hold
Christopher in place, locking their bodies together. The young
account squirmed, but his own supple body couldn't match Jake's
brute power. Christopher felt Jake hump his hips, felt something
long and hot and hard probe his ass.
``Don't -- wait -- stop!'' panted Christopher, and then he
was struggling too hard to waste breath on words. Jake's shaft
hit a sensitive spot, slipped off, probed again. Jake thrust
deeper -- Christopher felt burning pain. He fought to keep from
yelling -- now fought to keep from screaming -- and suddenly,
Jake was in, sliding deeper as Christopher squirmed. The burning
pain became something indescribable, setting fire to
Christopher's sexual equipment from the inside. Jake slid in
deeper -- a slow, controlled, utterly irresistible impalement.
The young accountant gave up trying to buck, but he couldn't
help wiggling as Jake's shaft went deeper -- and deeper -- and
on until it was all the way in, and the front of Jake's crotch
clamped down hard against Christopher's butt.
``Well?'' Jake growled.
Christopher turned his head; Jake's face was just inches
away. ``Damn you,'' panted Christopher. ``That feels like I'm
getting fucked with a goddamn telephone pole.''
``Yeah?'' Jake slowly pulled back till he had withdrawn
almost all of his long shaft, and then with a smooth thrust he
slid himself in to the hilt again. ``Haven't split any of my
customers open so far.'' And he was pulling back again -- and on
into a hard-pumping rhythm, fucking the naked, blond accountant
on and on, on and on, while Christopher wiggled and squirmed and
gasped and panted; and Jake's powerful arms tightened around the
younger man's chest.
For all of Jake's superb control, Christopher sensed an
accelerating tautness in the big man's pace: the strokes came
faster, each thrust longer. Jake's virile shaft seemed to
Christopher to be getting even harder and hotter. Every stroke
was turning him on too, bringing his own virile organs to a
boil.
Jake's lips were on his captives shoulder now, teeth
nibbling gently, breath coming hard. And still the irresistible,
impaling fuck went on -- on -- on; and Christopher realized he
was helping, rearing up to meet every downward thrust. He tensed
his ass muscles, relaxed, tensed, relaxed.
``Getting too close,'' Jake sighed, and slowed his stroke
to a stop. ``Gotta take a break. How you doing?''
``B-better.''
``Yeah? I could tell: you been helping.'' Jake chuckled, a
deep rumble that Christopher felt as well as heard. ``Wanta keep
on like this, or finish up this fuck face to face, so's you can
watch.''
Christopher nodded. ``Sure -- I'd -- I'd like to watch.''
He felt Jake withdraw, then relaxed as Jake flipped Christopher
onto his back. Strong hands gripped the naked blond's knees,
raised and spread them wide. Wide-eyed, Christopher watched Jake
lean forward and settle his waist down between Christopher's
thighs, felt the rigid shaft probe, felt himself being impaled
again on Jake's quivering, rock-hard cock.
``Okay?''
Christopher nodded. ``It's -- it's different. And watching
you go in . . .''
``Yeah, I know.'' As he bent his arms and lowered his chest
onto Christopher's, Jake pulled back, slid in all the way,
pulled back again -- and on into a smooth, hard-driving rhythm.
``Hitting me just right -- **really* turning me on now,''
Christopher panted, curling his hips up to meet each stroke.
``Yeah?'' Still pumping his hips, Jake straightened his
arms, raising his torso clear of Christopher's. ``Some of the
guys who -- who use my services like getting raped all the way
to the end, but I could sort of **feel* --''
``-- plugged into me like this --''
``-- that you're more into ordin'ry sex.''
Christopher felt himself grin as he tightened his ass
muscles around Jake's shaft and studied Jake's broad, powerfully
muscled chest. ``There's nothing ordinary about you, stud.'' A
few more strokes -- Christopher tightened his stomach muscles,
raised his head and shoulders, spread his thighs still more, and
caught a glimpse of Jake's shaft on the up-stroke, saw and felt
that shaft drive into his own body on the downward thrust.
Another stroke -- another -- and Jake was pumping harder --
faster -- until suddenly Jake was all the way in, his superbly
muscled body tense and quivering. For a breathless moment,
Jake's cock squirted out a swirling, slippery load of cream, and
then he dropped his chest onto Christopher's and went limp.
Minutes later, Jake growled, ``You didn't come?''
Christopher shook his head. ``Almost, though.''
Jake slowly rose onto hands and knees, pulling out his
still-hard cock with a wet slurp. He shifted himself backwards
until his head was right over Christopher's rigid cock, then
lowered his muscular torso onto the blond man's legs and
pounced, open-mouthed, onto Christopher's hard-on.
Christopher watched intently, watched and felt Jake's
powerful arms wrap around Christopher's thighs, watched Jake's
head bob up and down, felt Jake's lips and tongue work on
Christopher's shaft, felt hungry suction take hold and pull him
towards his own pent-up eruption. His hands moved to Jake's
shoulders and gripped hard. Christopher watched a moment more,
and then his own shaft erupted.
And, as Christopher's glands jetted their swirling load up
into Jake's mouth, Jake hungrily sucked it all in, swallowed,
and sucked still harder. Spent, Christopher let his head and
shoulders fall back onto the pillows as he felt Jake suck the
last drop of sperm from Christopher's shaft.
A moment later, Jake released Christopher's still-hard
shaft. ``Well?'' asked Jake.
``Wow. Couldn't you tell?''
``Yeah, you did sorta get carried away. Lot of it, too; you
oughta get your pipes cleaned out more often.''
``You -- you got it all down?'' Christopher raised his
head, met Jake's gaze.
``Of course I did.'' Jake licked his lips. ``The guys that
use my consulting services, they get turned on more if I swallow
it all, so -- I swallow.'' He grinned and licked his lips again.
``Don't tell anybody, but by now I almost like the stuff.'' He
touched Christopher's still-hard shaft, and asked, ``Soon's I
re-laod, wanta see how I taste?''
# # #
Later, a long, comfortable while later, Christopher lay on
Lance's bed beside Jake, both still naked, Christopher's head
pillowed on Jake's big, warm shoulder. Christopher heard
footsteps, looked up, and saw Lance's amused grin. The writer
had returned.
``I thought you were just going to ask questions,'' said
Lance, peeling off his own shirt.
Christopher yawned and stretched his lithe body. ``So did
I, but Jake here --''
``I know, I know,'' sighed Lance, unbuckling his belt,
dropping his pants, and revealing an impressive hard-on. ``He
does tend to -- uh -- pounce to conclusions, so to speak.''
Lance paused, finished stripping, then said, ``He's not cheap,
and we get together every -- so, is he deductible or not? ''
``He explained everything when he finished -- ah --
pouncing,'' said the naked young accountant. Beside him, Jake's
warm body snuggled closer. ``There should be a way to list him
as a deductable expense on **your* income-tax return, and I'll
research that later. Right now, I'm trying to make him
deductible on **mine.''*
================================================================
[Copyright (C) 1999 by Felix Lance Falkon; you may save or make]
[paper copies for your own use; do not post, repost, publish, ]
[or archive elsewhere without the author's express permission. ]
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