Date: Fri, 27 Jul 2007 13:15:09 +1000
From: Iain Robertson <iainlthr@hotmail.com>
Subject: Another Nick & Noah - ch 3

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.


Another Nick & Noah

Chapter 3


The wailing of sirens heralded the arrival of the police, who quickly
sealed off the room where Wes's body lay. As forensic examiners moved
in, photographing everything before turning the place over to fingerprint
experts, Nick and Noah were shepherded out onto the pool deck area, both
of them in mild shock.

They told the detective who interviewed them everything they could about
the evening, which wasn't much. Wes had been happy and fine when they
left, and dead when they returned. Their presence at the restaurant all
evening could be easily confirmed by waiters. The house itself appeared
not to be disturbed, although they were unable to say whether anything
had been stolen since they didn't really know the place that well,
having only arrived for the first time 36 hours earlier.

Detective Moran seemed to accept their explanation of having met Mr
Arrows-Smith through the introduction of a mutual friend, and didn't
enquire too much more on their relationship. When he asked if there had
been any other people in the house over the weekend, both men suddenly
remembered Patrick.

"Oh shit," Nick declared.

"His nephew," Noah offered by way of explanation. "Wes' nephew,
Patrick, lives here with him. He was here this afternoon. He and his
partner left about 6.00. They were going to a party somewhere, and said
they'd be back, but not until late. We need to contact him, but I have
no idea how."

"Do you know the nephew's surname?"

"Uhh, no," Noah said.

"He was Wes' sister's son, so his name won't be `Arrows-Smith',"
Nick added.

"His partner's name is Frank -- and no, I don't know his last name
either," Noah went on.

The cop raised an eyebrow at that. Nick sighed deeply. "Before we get
any further, Detective," he said, bristling for an argument, "Mr
Arrows-Smith was gay. His nephew is gay. I and my partner here, Noah, are
gay. The friend who introduced us is gay. Is any of this going to be a
problem?"

Moran shook his head. "Please, Mr Giannis," he said soothingly. "I
wasn't disapproving. It just took me by surprise. If it makes you feel
any better, I am gay too. And no, that doesn't make any difference to
the case, or to how I investigate it!"

Nick reddened. "Sorry, it's just that..."

"Gentlemen," the cop offered quietly. "I am only too well aware that
being gay seems to cause more problems than it should. But let's get
that all out in the open and dismiss it right now. I have a murder to
investigate."

"Please forgive our attitude, detective," Noah said. "It's late, and
it's been a very upsetting night, or should that be morning?" He looked
at his watch -- it was now almost 2.00 a.m.

"It's forgotten. Now, we need to find this `Patrick'..."

"What in the fuck is going on?" demanded a loud, shrill voice from the
front of the house. "I live here, so don't tell me I can't come in.
Uncle Wes? Uncle Wes? What's happening?"

The voice was quickly growing louder and verging on hysteria.

"I think we've just found him," said Noah.

A uniformed officer rounded the corner, leading a very agitated Patrick,
and a rather dazed looking Frank, back to where Nick and Noah waited.

"Detective Moran, this is Mr Arrows-Smith's nephew Patrick, and his
partner Frank," Noah said by way of introduction, turning to face the
cop. Moran stood there staring open-mouthed, his face white.

Nick and Noah swapped questioning glances at the strange reaction of the
detective.

"Unh, P... Patrick, you said?" he stammered.

"Yes, that's right, Patrick Feldman," Patrick replied, looking
directly at the cop and speaking in a slowly rising voice. "What the
fuck is going on?"

Moran seemed to shake off his surprise, and became businesslike and
professional once again. "Sorry," he muttered. "You look remarkably
like someone I know," he offered by way of explanation. He sat Patrick
down and, surprisingly gently, explained what had happened to his uncle.

"Noooo!" wailed the young man, collapsing in a heap, sobs wracking his
body. "Uncle Wes! Uncle Wes!" he repeated in a diminishing voice.

Frank went to put his arms around Patrick, but it was obvious that he too
was in shock, and not of much assistance. Nick moved to the pair,
offering his support as he held them both.

Noah motioned to the detective and pulled him to one side. "There's
something else you should know," he said softly. "Mr Arrows-Smith told
us only last night that he thought someone was trying to murder him!"

Quickly, Noah repeated to the very surprised cop what Wes had told them
the previous evening about the various incidents in recent months. Moran
took copious notes, asking more questions than Noah had answers for,
shaking his head as he did.

By the time Noah had told the detective everything he could, Patrick had
calmed down enough to be asked some questions.

"You left the house around 6.00 pm I understand," Moran said. Patrick
nodded. "Where did you go?"

"Ummm, we went to a friend's place in Portsea," Frank answered for
him.

"Is there anyone else who might have access to the house?"

"It wasn't locked!" Nick jumped in. "We came back from the restaurant
and it was open."

"But that wouldn't be common knowledge," said the cop. "Patrick --
anyone?"

Patrick shook his head vaguely, uncomprehendingly. Frank spoke up again.
"What about Mrs Fitzgibbon?"

To the questioning look of Detective Moran, he elaborated. "The
housekeeper. She lives in the cottage." He motioned towards it with his
jaw.

"Out," said Patrick flatly. "Day off -- Sunday -- goes to her son's
place."

"I think we may need to continue this tomorrow," the detective said,
seeing the lost look on Patrick's face. His assistant had just motioned
to him that they were about to remove the body. "Will you be alright
here tonight?"

Nick nodded. Noah assured him they would stay with Patrick for the night.

"I'm going to have to ask you to extend your stay in Melbourne,
gentlemen," he said. At least for a few days while we confirm your
stories and get what details we can. I may need to speak to you again
before you return to Sydney.

Nick began to object, but Noah nodded. "That's okay. We should stay for
the funeral now anyway. Patrick, do you mind if we stay here?"

The young man nodded absently. "I think it would be better if you did,"
said Frank, gratefully.

As the police finished what they had to do in the rest of the house, Nick
poured them all strong drinks, and the four men sat together by the pool,
trying to offer each other some comfort through the long hours until
dawn. Patrick sat in a daze, Frank simply looked lost, and Nick and Noah
alternated between offering soothing words and hugging the two younger
men when they felt they needed it.

It was well into Monday morning before Patrick finally got to sleep.
Collapsed from exhaustion would be a better term, since that is what
happened to him. Frank carried him upstairs and lay down beside him,
trying to rest also, while Nick and Noah worried to each other about what
needed to be done. They felt that someone should notify the company about
Wes before the meeting, but had no idea who to contact. They were certain
other friends and relatives should be told, but didn't know whom or how.
When the housekeeper, Mrs Fitzgibbon showed up around 7.00 am, it was
obvious to her that something was seriously wrong. It fell to Nick and
Noah to give her the bad news, which led to another session of comforting
as the poor woman wailed and sobbed.

Patrick and Frank surfaced around 11.30, about the same time that the
phone began to ring. Noah asked Nick to look after the boys and the
housekeeper, while he started taking the calls, trying his best to answer
questions, without really knowing who he should be telling what. He
wasn't sure how it had gotten out, but it seemed that news of Wes'
death had begun to circulate fairly early. In a respite from the phone,
Noah suddenly thought of David. He had been a long term friend of Wes. He
called the number he knew by heart.

"Hello?"

"David, it's Noah."

"Well, hello there. Having a good time in Melbourne?" David said
cheerily.

"David, I have some bad news. I'm sorry, but there's no easy way to
say it. Wes is dead."

There was a sharp intake of breath and a short silence down the line
before David spoke again. "How? What happened? Are you alright?"

Noah went on to tell his friend what had happened, what they had found.
He explained how lost he felt, not knowing any of Wes' friends or
contacts in the area.

"Damn," David cursed down the line. "I'll be there as soon as I
can!"

"But..."

"No buts," David said. "I know the area, know the city, know the
people. You need help, and so does Patrick. Wes would have wanted it.
I'll cancel everything up here, and be down there this afternoon."

"But we're out at Wes' house on the Mornington Peninsula. How are you
going to get here from the city?"

"Don't worry. I know where the house is. I'll hire a car at the
airport and drive myself out there. See you soon." With that he hung up.

Knowing David was on his way, and that he could help where they couldn't
manage, made Noah feel much better. He went to let Nick know what was
happening. He found a much recovered Patrick sitting quietly by the pool.

"We need to start thinking about making arrangements," Patrick was
saying. "The funeral, all that stuff."

"You can't do anything yet. The police will want to keep Wes' body for
examination and an autopsy," sighed Nick.

"I can't believe this has happened," muttered Frank, still looking
lost.

"Try to calm down, Frank," Noah said to him soothingly. "Patrick is
going to need your help and support over the next few days, even weeks."
The young man nodded slowly.

A doorbell announced the return of Detective Moran. Noah let him in and
showed him to the patio where the others were sitting. He spoke to them
all gently, telling them that although the investigation was just
starting, he would do everything he could to find the murderer, and that
he was sympathetic to how they felt. He assured Patrick that Wes' body
would be released and able to be buried within a week, then said he
needed to speak to them again individually.

Noah helped the detective set himself up in a sitting room, since no-one
was able to go into the library just yet. The cop spoke first to the
housekeeper, but didn't keep her very long at all. Her alibi was solid,
and she had little information that could help with his investigation.

Next it was Frank's turn. As he left, he held Patrick's hand, looking
into his lover's eyes with a searching glance. "It will all be okay,"
he said reassuringly. He was only gone for a short time, giving the
policeman details of where they had been the previous evening, before
returning to the group.

"Patrick?" called the detective.

"It's okay," Frank said. "I told him where we were all night. He just
has to check -- it's part of his job."

Patrick nodded, took a deep breath, and walked into the sitting room.

After Patrick had been with the cop for over an hour, Frank began to get
agitated.

"What is going on?" he asked no-one in particular.

"Take it easy, Frank," Nick advised. "Patrick knew more about his
uncle than anyone, so it's logical that the cops will need more
information from him."

Eventually Patrick reappeared, looking tired but not overly concerned.
Detective Moran followed him out. "Mr Sorensen, Mr Giannis, can I speak
to you together please?" he said.

Nick and Noah looked at each other, and followed the cop back into the
sitting room. "I don't have anything more I need to ask you at this
early point," he said amicably. "With what you told me last night about
Mr Arrows-Smith's concerns for his own welfare, and some information and
names I've been given by his nephew, hopefully we'll be able to look
into a number of possibilities. I want to thank you -- without the two
separate sets of information we may have had nothing at all."

"Glad we could help," beamed Nick.

"Are you able to tell us anymore -- about what happened, I mean?" asked
Noah.

"Not much," Moran sighed. "Initial observations suggest Mr
Arrows-Smith was stabbed at least four times with an unidentified sharp
object, most likely a knife, although we can't find any such knife in
the house. There's no sign of forced entry, although as you know the
house wasn't locked so anyone could have gotten in quite easily. Best
guess at the time of the attack would be between 8.00 and 9.00 pm, so he
would have been dead a couple of hours before you found him.

"There appears to be nothing stolen from the house, and it wasn't
ransacked, so I think we can dismiss robbery as a motive. Unfortunately,
given Mr Arrows-Smith's extensive business holdings, plus what you told
me last night, there are any number of possibilities, so this is not
likely to be a short investigation. Although I'd prefer it if you were
still available for a little while yet, I don't have any reason to ask
you to remain in Victoria, so if you wish to return home, you can."

"Thanks for that," Noah said seriously. He looked at Nick and turned
back to the cop. "Detective Moran,..."

"Please, call me `Bob'," interrupted the officer.

Noah smiled. "Bob, we're going to stay here at least until the funeral,
and we'll let you know before we leave. You have our mobile phone
numbers, and we'll give you our home address and phone as well, just in
case."

"Thanks, guys," the cop smiled. "I'll leave you to it. I think young
Patrick is going to need some help over the next few days."

"Yes, I think you could be right," Noah agreed. He shook hands warmly
with the detective, as did Nick, with a slightly bemused expression.

After the officer had left, as they headed back to the poolside, Nick
caught Noah's arm, and whispered into his ear.

"Noah Sorensen, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were flirting
with Detective Moran!"

Noah sputtered indignantly, but he reddened at the same time. "I was
just trying to be polite. Besides, it always helps to keep the cops on
side, you know."

Nick laughed. "Especially when they are handsome, and built like a brick
shit-house!"

"Don't be stupid, I wasn't coming on to him, I was just doing my civic
duty!"

"Hey, lover," Nick grinned. "It's okay. I wouldn't say `no' to him
wanting to, ah, `interrogate' you a little more closely. I'd even give
him a hand! Just think -- he would have his own handcuffs -- real ones!
I'll bet he'd look fucking hot in chaps and a harness ..."

Noah laughed as well. "Yes, he certainly would," he agreed.

Feeling a little better, they returned to the others. Mrs Fitzgibbon had
busied herself making a tray of sandwiches and salad, so although no-one
was hungry, they all sat down to eat. At least it gave them something to
do.

"Patrick," Noah said evenly. "The cops said you gave them some
information that could help -- names and stuff concerning your uncle?"

"Uh huh," he responded. "They wanted to know if I could think of
anyone who would want to hurt him, or of anyone with whom he had been
fighting recently. I told them I didn't think it was serious enough for
them to, uhh ... kill him," he stopped, choking over the word.

"What was?" Nick prodded.

"Well, there have been a couple of things in the last few months. I
don't think Uncle Wes even knew I was aware, but he's had some pretty
loud arguments with two different guys."

"Go on," urged Noah. "Who with? And what was it about, do you know?"

"The first one was the next door neighbour. The guy kept coming over
regularly, and he and Uncle Wes would go inside and argue for ages. I
overheard them one day, just before Wes threw the guy out and told him to
stop wasting his time, and never come back. I'm pretty sure he wanted to
buy the property. If not all of it, then certainly a big slice. He kept
saying something about sub-divisions and huge profits for little effort,
insisted that it needed to be done before the rezoning went through."

"What `re-zoning'? Do you know anything about it?"

"Nothing at all. I don't understand what it was about. All I know is
that the last time he was here -- has to be a few months ago now, Uncle
Wes practically threw him out by the scruff of his neck, and he wasn't
too happy. Kept shouting about how Uncle Wes was a fool with more money
than sense, and that he would be sorry!"

"Hmm, very interesting," said Nick.

"And there was something else?" prompted Noah.

"Uh huh. About the same time. An older guy called Terry Michaels, he
used to come around from time to time. I know his name because he used to
call on the phone a lot too. Always wanting to talk to Wes, but would
never tell me what it was about, just that it was `personal'. I came
home one day to find him standing out the front of the house, cursing and
swearing and demanding to be let in. When I asked him what he wanted, he
just swore and took off. A few days later he was back, and this time he
was in the library with Wes. I was worried after the previous shouting so
I hung around in case Uncle Wes needed a hand. I heard this guy say that
unless Wes gave him some more time, he'd go to the papers, tell them all
about Wes' personal life, about being gay. Wes just laughed at him, said
'blackmail' was a crime, and that he wouldn't put up with it. They
started shouting and the guy stormed out yelling about how Uncle Wes
would get what was coming to him."

"I don't like the sound of that at all," Noah mused.

"But I don't think it was all that bad," Patrick explained. "I asked
Wes about it afterwards, because I was worried. He said I should feel
sorry for the guy rather than be concerned. Apparently this guy used to
be an acquaintance ..." Patrick stopped, and looked guiltily as he half
whispered, "I think he and Wes may have been on together once."

"An ex lover?" Nick asked quickly.

"No, I don't think so. More like a `fuck-buddy'. Wes didn't talk
about things like that much, so I didn't press. But he did tell me that
the guy had a major gambling problem. Owed heaps to some illegal casino.
Wes had lent him some money to help him out, but despite a whole stack of
promises, the guy hadn't paid the money back. That was what the fight
was over, or so Uncle Wes said."

Patrick lapsed into silence again, staring off into space, as Frank
settled his arm around his mate's shoulders. Before either Nick or Noah
could ask any more, the doorbell rang again.

"I'll go," Noah said.

"Are you okay?" was the first thing David said as Noah opened the door.

"Yeah, better now," Noah grinned. "You've made record time!"

"Melbourne's not that far away, you know. How is Nick?"

"As usual, seeing murderers at every corner, and sure the cops are out
to get us!" Noah laughed.

"What about Patrick? Is he here?"

"Yes, he and Frank are out by the pool. He's taking it hard, but he's
getting better."

"Frank?" David looked uncertain.

"His boyfriend. Don't you know him?"

"No, never met him," David said, the concern disappearing. "Wes did
mention a boyfriend, but I haven't actually seen Patrick for several
years." He steeled himself as Noah led him to the others.

"Dave!" Patrick said as soon as he saw him.

"Well, haven't you grown up?" David commented admiringly.

"Thanks for coming," Patrick said. "How did you know?"

"Nick and Noah -- they're good friends of mine and Joe's."

"Oh, of course." Patrick turned to Frank. "Frank this is Dave -- one
of Wes' oldest friends. Dave -- Frank -- my partner."

Frank and David shook hands, and David settled into a chair as some of
the events of the last 24 hours were rehashed for him, and he was brought
up to speed on what the boys knew. He quickly took control of the
situation, asking who had rung, and who had been notified. Noah gave him
a list of the callers he had spoken to that morning, and told him what
they had said.

"Patrick," David sought the young man's attention. "You need to start
making some decisions. You're his `next-of-kin'. You'll have to
contact a funeral parlour, and let the family know. I can get in touch
with mutual friends who will spread the word, but you are going to have
to grow up and take responsibility very quickly, I'm afraid. What about
Phillip?"

"Phillip?" echoed Frank.

"Who is Phillip?" asked Nick.

"He's not around anymore, they broke up," Patrick said quickly, almost
defensively.

"I know that," replied David, "But I think he should be told, and it
should be soon, before he hears it on the grapevine."

"Phillip is Wes' ex?" Noah asked. When David nodded, Noah said
quietly, "He mentioned an ex, said it wasn't all that happy a split."

"No," David confirmed, "But I still think he deserves to be one of the
first to be told. He loved Wes very much. The break-up hit him pretty
hard."

For the next couple of hours, David set about allocating chores for each
of them. He was particularly concerned to see that Patrick had plenty to
do. "It'll take his mind off what has happened," he explained to Noah.
Once he was satisfied that all that needed to be done was started, he
finally slowed down himself, slumping into a chair beside Nick and Noah
when the three found themselves alone.

"Thanks, David," Noah said. "We were feeling a little out of our
depth."

"It's always hard when you don't know the locals," David empathised.
"But I'm glad you two were here. I don't know whether Patrick would
have coped by himself. I know I wouldn't want to try to do it alone."

"So what does Joe think about losing you for a week?" Nick asked.

David beamed widely. "He isn't! I jumped on the first plane, but he's
arranging things at home today and tomorrow, including a substitute
dog-sitter for Indiana. He's flying down tomorrow evening. Wanna drive
up to the airport with me to collect him?"

"Yeah," Nick grinned. "I think we could use a break from here, and
maybe Patrick could use some time to himself for a few hours."

***

That night the entire household slept soundly, more from exhaustion than
peace of mind. Tuesday morning brought another visit from Detective Moran
with a few more brief questions for Patrick, and the news that forensics
were finished with the house so it, and in particular the library, could
be cleaned. Noah helped David to discreetly remove the rug where Wes had
fallen and bled, before allowing the housekeeper in to remove all
evidence of what had happened -- a job she set about with grim
determination.

Noah introduced David to the cop, explaining who he was. Bob Moran seemed
pleased to meet this new friend, and David promised to help in any way he
could with any further information.

As the officer left, David whistled quietly after him. "Nice arse!"

Moran didn't hear, but Nick and Noah did, and Nick smirked. "Noah
thinks so too. I think he'd like to `serve' Officer Moran."

"Alright, already, let it go," Noah declared, grinning.

"Mmmm," David chuckled. "I'd be `up' for a bit of law and order
myself, given the chance. I'll bet `sabre' and `trojan' could assist
the long arm of the law in `investigating'  a couple of slaves by the
names of viking and eagar, too. What do you think Nick?"

Nick smirked with lust, "Now there's a way to carry out some real civic
duties!"

The three of them watched with interest as the detective climbed into his
car and waved them farewell.



Frank declared that he needed to get some things done at home, and after
being assured by Patrick that he was okay, set off with a promise that he
would be back the following day, and would stay on for as long as he was
needed.

David, Nick and Noah left the house around 5.00 to drive into Melbourne
and collect Joe from the airport. Hitting peak hour traffic meant they
had a slow trip through the city and out on the Tullamarine Freeway, but
still arrived before Joe's plane disembarked. A round of hugs and
reunions followed as all four men accepted the awful truth of Wes'
murder, and acknowledged that they had a large job on their hands over
the next few days.

Back at the house, Joe was introduced to Patrick and Mrs Fitzgibbon, who
insisted on making a hearty meal for the men over their protests. After
dinner she disappeared to her cottage, and Patrick excused himself early,
heading for his bed. The four friends sat long into the night, going over
all that they knew, and trying to find something that would help the
police track down Wes' killer.

When they finally declared the evening done and made their way to the
guest bedrooms, Nick and Noah fell into restless sleep quickly. David sat
on the edge of the bed rubbing his head, and trying to go over in his
mind all of the things that needed to be done in the next few days.

"Hey there, stud," Joe said softly, hands on David's shoulders as he
began a slow, gentle massage. "I'm proud of you."

"Proud of me? What for?" asked his lover in surprise.

"Because of the way you've taken over, settled everyone down and gotten
them thinking about things that need to be done. You know I love it when
you take control ..." he slid his arms around David's body, hugging him
back into his own body and whispering into his ear, "... and when you do
it in real life it makes me proud, and turns me on."

David grinned, leaning back and relishing the feel of Joe's chest
against his shoulders. "Joe, you're always the `bottom' when we have
sex, either playing in leather, or being romantic in bed. Do you ever
want to take the other role?"

Joe smiled lovingly. "Never!" he declared. "I'm a total bottom, and I
like it that way. And I love it that you are all top. We're a perfect
fit, you and I."

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

David pressed onwards. Letting Joe's testicles plop from his mouth, he
manoeuvered himself around, lifting Joe's legs and gaining access to the
tender skin between his legs. David flicked his tongue over the sensitive
perinaeum and Joe moaned again. He knew what Joe loved. As his mouth
licked and probed at the soft pink pucker of Joe's arse, David marvelled
that he and Joe had been able to share so much, in such a short time.
Lifting his face away, he leaned forward as Joe wrapped his legs around
David's body. Again they kissed as Joe guided David's steel hard prick
down to rub along the crack of his arse, and pinched at the skin of
David's earlobes. This time David groaned with pleasure. Just as he knew
what turned Joe on, Joe knew exactly what to do to get David's blood
boiling.

Joe found David's hand with his own, and guided it to the bedside
drawer, where a bottle of lube was within easy reach. David applied the
cool gel of the lube to his throbbing cock, and smeared more around
Joe's hole, massaging it in with his fingers and ensuring his mate's
sphincter was liberally coated. Joe lifted his legs again to David's
shoulders as David kneeled between them, and slowly nudged his hard,
aching prick toward Joe's twitching target. As skin connected with skin,
the two men looked deeply into each other's eyes, and nodded.

Joe pushed back against the firmness of David's manhood, willing himself
to relax and to accept his lover. He trembled with anticipation, and
ached with need as his mate inched inward. With a small grimace of
pleasure, Joe felt his own muscle surrender, and David was inside him,
the head of the hard thick cock penetrating him as his sphincter clenched
around David's glans. He felt David stop and wait as he adjusted to the
sensation of being filled, and Joe looked longingly into David's eyes.
David began to slide slowly into him, and Joe gasped with joy as his
lover's rock hard pole ever so gradually pushed its way into his body.

David struggled to maintain his composure as he breached Joe's hole.
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, gently
into Joe'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.

Finally, David came to rest, the entire length of his masculinity buried
deep within Joe. The two men grunted in unison. David leaned forward and
down, and Joe 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
making love.

With the end of the kiss, David began to move again, slowly withdrawing a
little, and pushing back in again. As he did, Joe constricted his
sphincter against the flesh of David's pole, gripping at him before
relaxing as his lover surged forward. The two soon fell into an easy,
gentle rhythm as David moved in and out of Joe, their bodies melding as
one. Joe quivered as his arse was massaged and his bowel filled by the
warm, powerful sword of David's rod. David for his part trembled in
ecstatic pleasure as the hot moist cavern of Joe's innards wrapped
around him, caressing his very manhood. Joe and David 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. David tingled as the
tempo of his insertions increased, his entire being seemed concentrated
in the sensual shocks generated within his cock. Joe 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 David thrust, harder and harder his
body pumped into his lover. Soon he was pounding his long, fleshy dagger
deep into Joe, plugging his partner with a ferocity born of uninhibited
passion. Joe's legs were wrapped around David's back, and he used the
leverage to pull his man deeper and deeper into himself, humping up at
David 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. David fell forward,
his palms behind Joe'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 Joe's being. Joe's arms were trapped by his sides,
but his hands found the firm round orbs of David's butt, and he squeezed
and pulled at his man, desperately trying to take all of David within his
aching, needing body.

David 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 Joe's arse. He began to shout
a warning, but his voice was cut off as pure ecstasy engulfed him. Joe
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
David 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. David watched with a detached, glazed look
as Joe's jism poured from his long throbbing prick. His own masculinity,
sunk so far inside this beautiful man, ached and twitched as he filled
Joe's body with his essence, a torrent of ejaculate flowing from him and
into the already heated cavern of Joe'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 David collapsed onto Joe's sweating frame, his
now spent cock still lodged in his lover's hole, as Joe 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 of
experiences.

Finally, David broke the silence. Lifting his head to rest on his hand,
he looked down at Joe's smiling face. "I love you," he said quietly.
"I want you to know that I don't really think of you as my `slave
boy'. You are all man, and I'm just so happy that you're mine."

"I know," Joe answered. "I love you too. And for the record, I love
being your `boy', stud."



... to be continued



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!