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Chapter 59
2010.04.05. 21:39
59.
“Do you really want this, Dave?”
“Yes, Curly. Strangle him slowly – he likes it, I’ve seen it.”
Mart follows his wish and soon Alan starts snapping for air like a fish on dry land, his fingers clawing around the metal elements behind his back. He can’t see Dave whilst Mart is hovering over him but his senses capture the click of a cap, a bottle being opened. With his last breath he whispers against the blond man’s face.
“I wanna see him…please.”
The body over him giving way and moving to his side Alan musters Dave applying some lubricant on his rock hard cock that is covered with a condom.
“Fix the belt to the headboard the way it is now. I’ll need your help down here.”
Martin does as he’s asked and uses some gaffer tape for it. Then he joins Dave, releasing the ankles from the sides of the bed, fixing them to each other and then lifting them up, pushing the knees backwards. Dave leans his full weight against the thighs and holds the legs in place.
“Go back to your task, baby. Keep him at the edge till I’m ready to come.”
Some cold liquid hits his crack and then Mart is already back at his head, tearing at the belt after he got rid off the sticky tape. The entry is short and rough. Alan has not enough air to fully yell so it just sounds like an odd gurgle, him nearly choking. The thrusts come fast and deep. Dave seems to work out all his pent up anger and frustration.
“Do you feel my love, Charlie?” His breath comes ragged now Mart is alert not to miss the right moment. Dave straightens his back and with the next push he comes hard.
“He’s out, Dave, he’s out!”
Releasing the belt he feels for the carotid, finding a strong, regular pulse there. It takes a moment for the brunette man to shake off the dizziness of the aftermath.
“OK, let’s get him into the closet.”
“Dave!”
“Just for a moment. I want to see his face when he comes back to his senses in there.”
They open the cuffs and flexible bonds and carry the limb body over to the open door. Fixing the belt at the hanging rail they let Alan down to his knees, sitting at his heels.
“Give me the silk bonds.” Martin quickly dashes to get them. With big eyes he watches his lover adjusting them firmly around Alan's still half hard member.
“God, it definitely looks real to me!”
They step back and let themselves crush onto the edge of the mattress, waiting.
“Three minutes, Dave. No more than three fucking minutes!”
“Yeah, we agreed on that. I better get the camera for a nice memory.” The sarcasm in his voice soothes Mart’s tensed nerves. This is by far a game any more – never was, though it felt a bit in the beginning. The flash and electronic beeps let him shiver. This tough side of his lover frightens him a bit.
And I was afraid to show you my dark side, Angel. Suppose I can ditch that fear…
It’s less than two minutes when the man in the closet starts to stir. Opening his eyes he gasps for air and breathes heavily. His chest is moving frantically. Realizing he’s sort of hanging in the closet his eyes pop out even more. Seeing the two silhouettes getting up from the bed and moving towards him he manages to let out a squeal. When Mart leans against the door, grabbing the wood with his right hand he tries to reach for the belt, finding his hands untied.
“Dd…dddon’t close…th…the…dddoor!”
Seing the real horror and angst in his blue eyes Dave reaches over and cuts the belt from the rail. The whole body shaking Alan crouches there on his knees, threatening to fall over. Dave can just catch him and drags him up, feeling his arms clinging around him for dear life, a sweaty head now sobbing against his naked chest. It’s like someone has flipped a switch inside him. Looking into Mart’s glassy eyes he knows it’s not just him. They get Alan by his arms and legs and manoever him over to the huge bed again, letting him down onto the soft cover. Mart goes for a bottle of Evian and carefully holds it against the still breathless man’s lips. Sip by sip the liquid disappears in his mouth, resulting in a heavy coughing. He must have gotten some into the wrong way.
After a few minutes the trembling body on the bed calms down. Sensing the hardness against his thigh Dave cusses silently and quickly loosens the thin, black silk bonds. A hand grabs his. It’s not Mart’s.
“Dave, ride me. You never let me really have you. Make it complete. We’ve gone so far now. Feel me finally, please.”
Martin cocks both brows when he sees his lover reach for the lube.
“David?!”
“It’s OK, Curly. He’s right. I love you, but I want it.”
Preparing himself for the penetration two tears make it down his friend’s cheeks.
“Give me your arms, my Curly-Wurly, hold me.”
Silently Mart slips behind Dave, but instead of embracing him straight one of his hands moves to Alan’s raging hard on and the other checks for Dave’s readiness, two fingers gently dipping between his muscular glutes. Slowly the distance between the two bodies lessens and the gap disappears fully when Dave lets the hard dick enter himself with a deep gasp. Starting to move his pelvis up and down in slow circles he has to close his lids. Mart’s hands come from the back and warm, soft arms embrace him and stabilize his movements. He senses the wetness against his back. His lover is crying fully now, still without a sound. Wet, desperate lips wander along his spine. The long, strong shaft moving inside his butt stands in stark contrast. His instincts let him carry on, continuing his ride on Alan’s dick. Then the man lying on the bed shoots up and drags the brunette one into his arms, ravaging his lips while filling him with his load. He’s in tears as well, the salty taste burns itself into Dave’s conscience. He doesn’t let Dave escape his fingers, holding him firmly, not touching Mart’s that still clutch around him from the other side.
“You didn’t kill her. It was just my jealous, desperate self making you believe it. She asked me for money when she woke up while I placed her onto that bench. I gave her five hundred bucks, knowing fully well what she would invest the money in. She was alive when I left her. It was not your fault, David.”
The silence in the room is not an awkward one. It’s like if somebody finally let the air out off a balloon and now the wrinkly, soft material lies flat on the floor.
Dave carefully glides off Alan’s member and slumps back against Mart’s chest.
“Stay with us, Angel. It’s over.” Martin’s now deep voice guides him kind of through his whirring thoughts and emotions. He feels a shift and then his body is placed onto the sheets and his lover’s green eyes are twinkling at him, dragging him closer to his warm body.
“Are you happy now, Charlie?” Mart’s voice is cold at once.
The pale, tall man on the other side of the bed flashes the dark look back at him.
“Martin, I never was and I never will be. That’s the saddest truth out off all of it. I tried to force my will onto you, thought you were made for…for this dark side of love.”
“Love? You talk of love?! Do you know the difference between love and devotion at all? Dominance is one thing, but it does not necessarily destroy. You can’t force anyone to love you!”
Alan lets his head sink, nodding slowly.
“I see it, feel it…you two changed each other. God, I wish I could experience what you two seem to have discovered and have for yourselves now – but I think it’s too late for me. I’m turning fucking fifty next year and all I managed is to beat my loving wife out off the house, scare my kids away and destroying all friendships and relations that were important to me. Yes, especially you two are so fucking close to my heart. I never thought these words would ever cross my lips willingly!”
He jumps up from the bed, avoiding further eye contact. Walking towards the bathroom he stops again.
“You do not need to reply to that – just try not to hate me this much any longer.” He turns his head.
“Better grab your clothes and leave me now. It’s my suite if you might have forgotten that tiny fact and I’m not really keen on seeing you having a go at each other again.” His view meets the digits of the radio clock on the side table. “I’ve got two hours to shape up. Trent and me have work waiting in the studio.”
t.b.c.
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