Getting it up

Excerpt: Valenti tried hard not to stare as O’Brian stripped off his shirt as well and began strapping on the chaps. The two weeks O’Brian had been away visiting his folks had felt more like two months to him, and just the sight of his partner’s muscular, compact body was enough to make Valenti’s mouth water. There had been a time, of course, when the idea of looking at another man’s body and becoming aroused by what he saw would have seemed like a foreign concept. But that was before he’d given in to the feelings he’d kept hidden for so long and let himself love O’Brian as more than just a best friend and partner.

“Well,” he said, then cleared his throat and tried to think how to put it. “It’s more of a Dominant/submissive thing. I’m going to be the Dom and you’re going to be the sub.”

“Meaning?” O’Brian arched an eyebrow at him as he fought with the chaps.

Valenti cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Meaning I’ll be playing your, uh, Master and you’ll be my slave.”

“What, like a sex slave or somethin’?” O’Brian dropped suddenly to his knees and put his hands on Valenti’s thighs. “What am I s’posed to do?” he asked in a low, husky voice. “Want me to beg to suck your cock…Master?

Valenti’s shaft, which was already half hard from seeing his partner naked except for the black chaps, went from half mast to full in a second. “Since you’re asking,” he began, but before he could finish, O’Brian was on his feet again and examining the chaps he was wearing.

“Ya think this is the way these go?” he asked, looking down at the black leather that framed his round, muscular ass and thick cock. “Is there somethin’ else I’m supposed to wear with them? I mean, I can’t just go out like this, can I? You’d have to arrest me for indecent exposure before we even got to The Castle.”

Valenti cleared his throat, his heart pounding in his chest. “As a matter of fact, there is something else you’re supposed to wear, partner.” He walked over to the bed and picked up a black leather instrument with a thick handle and a lot of long leather tassels hanging from it. “This.”

“What’s that?” O’Brian asked flatly, walking over to examine it. “Damn,” he said, looking at the handle curiously. “That thing is nearly as big as your cock, Valenti.”

“That’s right, it is.” With a sudden move his partner never saw coming, Valenti pounced on the smaller man and pulled him onto the bed. Then, without missing a beat he grabbed his cuffs and bound O’Brian’s hands behind his back, forcing him into a submissive kneeling position in the middle of the mattress.

“Hey! What the hell?” O’Brian protested, looking up at his partner in confusion. “What’s this for, Valenti?”

“This is to teach you what our roles at The Castle are going to be. Namely that I’m the Master and what I say goes,” Valenti growled. “And also to teach you a lesson, partner."

“A lesson? What lesson? Let me out of these cuffs, Valenti, or I’m gonna teach you a lesson about bein’ sorry!” O’Brian snarled.

“I don’t think so.” Valenti shook his head. “Sean, do you remember what happened last Christmas on our one-year anniversary?”

[later:]

“Damn.” O’Brian frowned at him, his eyes filled with both fear and desire. “Had no idea you could be so…so dominant, babe.”

“Surprise.” Valenti ran one large hand from the nape of his partner’s neck down to the muscular curve of his naked ass. “You’re not the only one who’s good with handcuffs.”

Excerpt: “The blowjob contest is going to start in a few minutes, and after that there’s the Wankathon.”

“Wankathon?” Valenti shook his head -- had he heard the man correctly?

“A jerk-off contest,” Peter explained. “We have prizes for the fastest time, the slowest time, and the best technique.” He shrugged as though it was all standard procedure.

“Um, I think we’re going to take a pass this time,” Valenti said, turning to his partner. “Right, Sean?”

“I think we should do it,” O’Brian said unexpectedly.

“What?” Valenti felt as though his partner had punched him in the stomach. “You think we should what?”

“Look.” O’Brian took him by the arm with a nod of apology to Peter and pulled him close to whisper in his ear. “Don’t you see, Nicky? This is the golden opportunity we’ve been looking for to secure our cover once and for all. If we really put on a show, the whole damn place’ll hear about it, and there’s no way Conrad will suspect us of being straight.”

“I’m beginning to wonder about us myself,” Valenti muttered, which earned him a blank look from his partner. “But, O’Brian, there’s no way I’m going to blow you or ... or let you blow me in front of this crowd of perverts. There are limits.” He could feel the hot blush creeping over his face as he talked; he couldn’t help remembering the brief touch of his partner’s mouth on his cock the night before. If O’Brian was thinking along similar lines, his face didn’t show it.

“Who said anything about blowjobs, Valenti?” he argued. “Peter there said there was a jerk-off contest, too.”

“The Wankathon? You want to enter the Wankathon?” The unreality of what he was saying washed over Valenti, and he had an almost insurmountable urge to burst into laughter. The corners of his mouth twitched despite his best efforts, and suddenly he was snickering like a kid. O’Brian took one look at his partner and started laughing, too.

“Yeah,” he managed to say between snorts of laughter. “I wanna join the Wankathon. I’m gonna be king of the Wankathon, babe. Bet I set a new wanking record.”

“Sean, be serious,” Valenti pleaded, trying to get a grip on himself. He was glad they were hidden away in the corner, where not many people could see them cutting up like a couple of school kids.

“I am being serious,” O’Brian insisted. “Look, babe, I know it’s not your thing, so I’m not askin’ you to do it. But I can get up there and choke the chicken with the best of ’em if it means we take Conrad down in flames. You have to admit it would really help our cover.”

“Yeah, it would, but are you sure?” Valenti frowned, not liking the idea of dozens of pairs of hungry eyes on a part of O’Brian he had yet to really look at himself. His partner shrugged.

“Sure, I’m sure. I’d do worse than that to get this bastard. You grab us a seat. I’m gonna go tell Peter I’ll do it.”

[later:]

“All right now, gentlemen, that was just the beginning. For our next event, may I present to you a RamJack tradition -- the Wankathon!” Peter’s voice rang out over the buzz of the crowd, and O’Brian got to his feet, rubbing the bulge in his shorts reflexively. “Will the wankers and the wankees please come to the stage.” Peter continued.

“The ... what?” Valenti could only stare as a new group of men filed onto the stage, O’Brian among them.

“Ah, we appear to have an odd number here, gentlemen.” Peter was looking over the men on the stage. “We can’t have that, now, can we? Young man ...” He gestured for O’Brian, who came obligingly forward. “Will your sponsor be performing with you, or will you have a substitute wanker?”

“Uh ...” O’Brian looked as close to panicked as Valenti had ever seen him.

“I’ll do it!” It was the voice of Harry, the Neanderthal, and Valenti saw the involuntary tic of his partner’s facial muscles as the huge man began to wade through the seats nearest the stage. O’Brian’s green eyes were huge, and his normally tan face was pale as paper.

“That won’t be necessary,” Valenti heard himself saying. Rising to his feet, he made his way to the stage, vowing that he would kill O’Brian for getting them into this in the first place. “I’ll do it,” he said, reaching his partner’s side and laying a possessive hand on O’Brian’s arm. He could feel the tension thrumming through the compact frame, and he knew his friend was drawn as tight as a wire.

“Sorry, Valenti. Had no idea,” O’Brian muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

“Neither one of us did. But I think it’s too late to back out now,” Valenti whispered back. The lights pointed at the stage were hot. Now that he was up on it, he realized he was sweating freely. There was a loud buzzing sound in his ears that must have been Peter talking because Valenti could see his mouth moving. But nothing the tiny man was saying was registering as words. He saw the other contestants begin to get into position and suddenly had to fight the panic that wanted to crawl up the back of his throat like bile.

“What the hell are we supposed to be doing, anyway?” he whispered desperately to O’Brian.

“Uh, I think you’re s’posed to jerk me off.” His partner already had his shorts unzipped and was standing with strong legs braced apart and his heavy shaft in one hand. Trying to make it easy for me, Valenti thought and was grateful. If he’d had to unzip O’Brian himself and then fumble around in the confines of those tight shorts for his partner’s dick ... well, the stage fright was already bad enough. At least all he had to do was step up behind O’Brian as he saw the other sponsors doing behind their boys and take his friend’s cock in his hand.

Listen to me --“that’s all I have to do”? Once again he had the sensation that his universe was turning inside out. He’d never handled another man before, and now he was expected to manipulate his partner to orgasm, and in front of a crowd, no less. It was all so surreal

“Not sure I can do this, Sean,” he muttered in his partner’s ear, feeling a trickle of cold sweat run down the groove of his spine like an icy finger.

“You got no choice, babe -- this could make or break us. Here.” Valenti felt a strong hand close on his wrist and pull his arm down and around O’Brian’s body. Then he felt the hard column of warm flesh brushing his palm. He grasped it automatically, a part of his brain registering how similar and yet how different it was from his own. “That’s it,” O’Brian whispered, and Valenti felt his partner back up against him so that the round, tight ass was pressed against his groin. “Now touch me, babe. Need to feel you touch me.”

Excerpt: Colin melted beneath Marek, and Marek sank all the way down into the solid presence beneath him, settling his weight over every square inch of hard, male body. It had been so long since he shared closeness with anyone that the fuel of aggression immediately pumped hot inside him, demanding he take charge and dominate. Right then, Colin sighed and trembled, reminding Marek of the vulnerability he'd so recently felt in the man he carried to his bed.
Marek pulled back from taking over Colin's mouth and brushed his lips across his jaw, cheek, and into his hair instead, ending at the man's ear. “Just relax.” He nipped the lobe and tugged. “Let me do everything.”
Colin only dug his fingers into Marek harder.

Kissing his way down Colin's neck, Marek felt the tension and stopped. “What is it?”

Colin exhaled, ruffling the hairs on top of Marek's head. “I'm not used to letting go.” His hands let up the grip on Marek's shoulders, though, and slid down to his biceps.

Marek smiled against Colin's shoulder, suppressing a chuckle. “I believe you.” He figured Colin's relentless pursuit for answers to his dreams was probably a good indicator for the rest of his personality. “Give it a go anyway.” He nudged his groin against the bulge already forming in Colin's sweats, biting down a moan of pleasure as his own cock stiffened even more in response. “I'll make it good.”

The man shook a little bit again but let his hands fall to the bed. “Okay.” He folded one leg up into a butterfly position and rolled his hips into Marek's crotch. “God.” A low noise rumbled through his whole body. “I want to feel you inside me again.”

Still pushing for a little bit of control. “I'll get there soon enough.” Marek bit Colin's collarbone and dragged his mouth across his skin, tasting once more. The smell of rain and the salty taste of spray from the ocean still lingered, infecting Marek's senses and tingling on his tongue. Closing his eyes, he let Colin's body warm his sensitized lips as he teased his way down the man's chest, licking, enjoying, and blindly searching for a nipple. His chin grazed against the tiny, hardened protrusion, and when it did, Colin inhaled at first touch. Oh yeah. Dipping down, Marek opened wide and latched onto the textured circle of skin, swirled his tongue over it, and took the whole area into his mouth. Marek suckled, and Colin bucked, jamming his lower body right up off the bed.

Colin tilted his head back into the pillow and tunneled his hands into Marek's hair, holding Marek down on his chest. “Mmm…” He rubbed his straining cock into Marek's stomach, burning his shape into Marek's skin. “More.” Colin guided Marek across the span of his chest until Marek's lips found and tugged on his other nipple. “Yeah…bite it.”

Growing more aroused with every verbal and physical command, Marek sank his teeth into Colin's chest and swiped the flat of his tongue across the man's flesh, all the while wondering if, when he finished, his teeth marks would linger. Marek bit again, telling himself he did it because Colin wanted it, but deep down he knew something primal in him craved evidence on this body tomorrow of what they did tonight.

“Oh fuck, that's good.” Colin moaned and pushed Marek's hand to his neglected nipple, closing Marek's fingers around him. “Keep going. Don't stop.”

My little director. The thought popped into Marek's head unbidden, scaring him with another layer of possession. There wasn't anything little about Colin, and Marek didn't have him, no matter the sex they were having and Colin's dreams.

With the unspoken betrayal between us, I never will.

Marek had started this seduction wanting to go slow, to give Colin something gentle to soothe his earlier upset. But fear of discovery ate at his conscience and did battle with every other piece of his mind and body that needed to be close to Colin, to absorb his heat and life. Marek ripped Colin's arms off him and pinned them to the bed. Where before he intended to linger, now Marek licked straight down the centerline of Colin's stomach to his sweatpants and shoved his face in the man's crotch, inhaling deeply, shooting him the rest of the way to a consuming desire to fuck.