Pressure Drop
Been altogether too much of that shit since I told them Joe was now my boyfriend. Had to do it; the news has spread like VD in a bargain basement knocking shop thanks to Claire and her crowd. I wanted my folks to hear it from me if they had to hear it at all. Get it straight, not all tangled up with gossip and lies. Suppose I should start doing all my training down the gym, but no one there seems to know the concept of 'outside work hours', and if I'm there, I'm expected to be ready, willing and all kinds of able to sort out hassle arising and talk to Joe Public. Sod that for a way to spend my days off. Well, at least I got the weekend to look forward to and our trip to Yorkshire. What with one thing and another, it's been put off twice now, but this time we're both determined nothing will get in the way of our drive up north. It's meant to be nice up where Joe's mum and brat sibs have settled; lots of the green stuff to walk in and most of it hilly too, which is well good for the quads. All leg muscles, really, but 'specially the quads. Maybe we'll get some outdoor shagging done too if the warm weather holds. That'd be worth the drive up there on its own. Yorkshire's not for a few days yet though, and I'm looking forward to some exercise a lot more here-and-nowish. I fancy a complete body workout with the help of my lanky gay lover behind the door I'm now unlocking. So, of fucking course, first thing I see as I walk in is him curled up with his bloody faghag on the sofa, limbs tangled together, watching porn. Again. Getting to be too much of a habit, this. I stare at them for a few secs then shut the door. "Tell me again there's not a straight bone in your body, Joseph Kelly?" He snorts, sitting up a little on the sofa, and waves a hand towards the TV screen where there's a multi-ethnic potpourri of blokes writhing all over each other, sucking, fucking, and making those poncy little moans and grunts that you get in porn but never in real life. Real life don't come so muted. When real people fuck they're a lot more... there. "You see a woman in that scrum?" Joe asks. I don't bother to look closer. Instead I look from his chest to hers and back again. They're wearing matching tees, for fuck's sake. Her Celtic knot is blues and greens and his pinks and purples, but they're the same bloody design, bright colours on black. "Nah, but I see you have a bird in hand. Hello Claire. Having fun?" "Well, I was," she says dryly. "I suppose it's 'sod off, unwanted female' time now though." I shrug. "Don't have to be if you fancy another dose of live action to wet your panties over." "Thom!" They say it exactly together, like they've practised it or something, and I laugh. Claire leans forward and uses the remote to switch off the porn. Her blonde roots are showing. What kind of dozy tart dyes her natural blonde black just so she can look more like her bestest poof-pal? "Come here, you," I tell Joe, hauling him up off the sofa by his arm. I turn him round so we're both facing Claire and pull him back against me. "Came back early with just the one thing in mind, y'know." Same thing he has in mind judging by the way he's all pliant and responsive to my manhandling despite Claire's presence. Suppose the porn's got him all nicely worked up for me, primed and ready to fire. I circle my groin into his arse a few times, making my point felt if you know what I mean, and I add, "But I've no prob' with an appreciative audience, like." "I have," Joe says, and he sounds like he means it even though his words end on a whimper when I get my hand under his tee. The top button of his jeans is open, which leads me again to wonder what the fuck those two get up to when I'm not here. Best not to go tripping into that dark place, I suppose. I pinch a nipple that happens to find itself under my fingers, and Joe jolts in my arms, saying in a tight voice, "I've a big problem with an audience. So stop. What you're doing. Now. Please." He makes a half-arsed attempt to escape my clutches. I only have to jerk his body hard back against me once and the fight just drops from him like hair under the scissors. "Please," he says again, even more unconvincingly. "Don't reckon your faghag shares your problem, mate," I half-whisper in his ear, laughing again. Claire don't seem to be able to keep her gaze from my hands and what they're doing to her favourite poof. I got one slid into the front of his trousers now, encouraging his already half-hard-on to get fully with it. "I could go for a threesome and all. Could be well horny, that, being sandwiched 'tween the both of you. You two ever noticed how much you look like brother and sister?" Claire looks up sharply. "Shut up, Thom. Anyway, don't know why you think you'd be the piggy in the middle." She stands up. "Though part of the name fits, I suppose." I wink at her over Joe's shoulder. "Reckon you'd have more luck getting this little piggy's face buried deep in your damp bits than Joe's, darlin', much though you might wish it otherwise." I stick my tongue out at her and make flicking motions. Joe moans, and I don't know if it's 'cause of what I'm doing to him or 'cause of what I just said. Claire's giving me a look fit to scour old hotplates. "You're disgusting. I don't have the first clue why someone as intelligent as Joseph wants anything to do with you." But her gaze slips right back down to Joe's groin level as she speaks. "Yes, you do," Joe says, laughing weakly. I'm taking most of his weight now; I've made him so bloody trembly already. "You know exactly why. Thom, please don't do that. Just 'til Claire's gone." His hands are on my arms, but they're just resting there. He's making no attempt to stop me touching him. "Please, it's not fair on her." "What're you talking about? She loves it, mate. Look at her." I pull my hand from Joe's jeans so I can unzip them and get better access. "C'mon, Claire, look me in the eye for a few secs and tell me firmly you ain't getting off on watching me touch your boy here. Tell me you wouldn't like to stay and watch me fuck him." The look she gives me is equal parts scorn and horn, but all she says is, "Depends on how much I'd have to listen to you gab in the process." She watches me wank Joe for a few seconds, her face all screwed up, then turns away in a hurry, grabbing her handbag from the sofa. "Your mouth is the ugliest thing about you." "Yeah, love you too, sweetheart. Sure I could find something to fill my ugly gob up with, if you insist like. Offer remains open. Think about it." When she glances back at us, I wink at her again. "Reckon you won't be able to help thinking about it, yeah?" I chuckle. She shakes her head slowly at me, still trying to look pissed off, but I reckon she's more upset about having to leave halfway through the fun and games rather than anything I said. She steps forward, coming much closer, and for a few secs I think my luck might be in and she's changed her mind about a ménage à highly bloody unlikely trois. but she just presses close to Joe to give him a tight hug goodbye. Her willingness to be so close to Joe's erection in my grip, close enough to push my hand tight to his belly, don't go unmissed though, and I look again down that dark briar-ridden path to the bad place in which lurk all the things I don't wanna know about the two of them. "I'll see you soon, honey," she says to him, kissing him, "Don't let this arsehole wear you out. We've got a lot on tomorrow, remember?" They have? First I bloody knew about it. I bite his shoulder as Joe manages a fractured, "I won't. Bye, darling, and so sorry about this..." and I decide that my main aim for the rest of the night is to utterly cream-cracker him. Use up every last squeezable drop of vim from his skinny bod, leaving him limp as three-week old celery. Take him so hard and so often he can't walk straight, let alone do whatever he's meant to be doing with the pain in my arse FH tomorrow. I wait 'til I hear the door shut after Claire, then I turn Joe round to face me. "You're bloody lucky I ain't the jealous type, Kelly." He snorts. "No, not a possessive impulse in you, is there? And you've not at all been liberally scent-marking me ever since you walked in the door." "Possessive ain't the same as jealous," I tell him calmly, getting on with the process of stripping him. "You're mine, and you know it. Don't think Claire knows it well enough yet though, and so I'll just have to keep showing her 'til she learns." I help him step out of his jeans and pants before adding, "Anyway, was getting a tasty smidgen of revenge there." "Revenge?" "Ain't quite forgiven her yet for telling you she saw us together in her kitchen that time." "Why the hell shouldn't she have told me?" He puts his hands on his hips and tries to look indignant, which considering he's stark bollock naked and has his cock jutting out front like a bell-pull, just makes him look like an idiot. A really fucking shaggable idiot. "'Cause she knew I didn't want you to know." I say and take his face in my hands to kiss him hard for a few minutes 'cause I've had enough of this little chat already. By the time I pull back, Claire seems to be the last thing on his mind. Just like she bloody should be. He's breathing hard. His hands are trying to push my jacket off my shoulders, so I let them, but step back when he tries to lift my sweatshirt and tee in turn. "Nah, not yet," I tell him. "Got something I want to try. Stay put." I give him another brief kiss and then leave him standing naked in a nest of discarded clothes while I go fetch what I want from the bedroom. "What's that?" he asks when I come back, carrying the belt from his black towelling bathrobe. "A convenient rope." I hold it up for him to see, letting it dangle, and he gasps and has to lean over, his hand on the sofa arm as he suddenly pants for air. He's so wonderfully fucking predictable about some things, my Joe. Knew he'd like this idea soon as I thought of it. I reach him and haul him back up straight. I don't even have to tell him to put his wrists together. His hands are now right out in front of him, like he's doing some twisted form of praying. Laughing, I start to strap his wrists together, being careful with the kind of knot I use; don't want to give him carpel tunnel or nothing. Always knew my time in the Scouts would come in useful one day. "Anyone would think we'd done this before," I tell him, still chuckling. "We have," he says in an intense voice, "in my mind. Lots of times." "Naughty place, your head." I finish my knotting, leaving a long tail of belt, a leash to control him with. "You'll have to tell me what else we get up to in there some time." Not gonna ask him to story-tell right this minute though cause he's fast going some place too deep to make a lot of sense. His eyes are half-lidded, his mouth open, and his breath shallow and rapid. Yeah, just from some towelling cotton tied around his wrists. "Bet you'd like this even better if the belt was leather," I tell him. "Or metal even. Fancy some steel cuffs?" Had a girl once who was heavily into kink. Well, older woman really. Could do with some of her bag of tricks now to use on Joe. "Doesn't matter," Joe manages. "I don't care what. Just that... that it's you doing it." Yeah, 'cause I'm the biggest, best, and most action-packed sex toy he's ever known, ain't I? I'm the Swiss army knife of sex toys. I grin at him, take a long step back, and then yank on his dog lead. "This way, Rover." He stumbles a little, his feet tangling in the clothing pile, but I was prepared and catch his elbow, helping him balance. Then I lead him over to the wall below the big bracket lamp his landlord thought was a good idea to fit when doing up this dosshole. Probably found it in a skip somewhere. I back him into the wall and lift his arms above his head. He's starkers and very hard, and I'm still dressed if no less hard. I press my whole body against him, one hand holding his arms above his head and the other roaming his flesh. I'm looking for places to tweak, squeeze, pull on or lightly slap, never staying anywhere for more than a few secs, just sensitising his skin, making him super-aware of me. Not that he weren't that already. Soon he's making little animal whimpers, trying to follow my hand, and when I pull back and look at him, his eyes are unfocused and kind of rolling. Not the first time I've got him in this state, but definitely the quickest. "Such a beautiful fucking perv, you are, Joe," I tell him, and I chuck the belt over the lower loop of light fitting and recapture it, pulling his arms up tight. Tested the weight it could take yesterday, so I'm confident enough about this. The thing's made of solid brass; got to be some pretty hefty fixing power holding it up there, big bolts going into the joist behind the plasterboard. A quick reef knot and Joe's well and truly captive. I take a couple of steps back to enjoy the view. His head is hanging between his arms, his long hair falling over his face. The muscles of his arms and heaving chest are tautly visible. As I watch, feeling more than a little out of it myself, he raises his head. "Thom?" "I'm here. Just enjoying you one sense at a time. You got any idea how fucking good you look?" "Thom..." More a complaint than a question this time, so I move back close to him, stripping my tops off as I go. "You're fucking gorgeous, you are, love," I tell him before lifting his head further by his hair and kissing him hard. Ain't really a kiss, far too brutal for that, but he likes it well enough judging by the bad-Thom noises he makes when I stop to say, "And you're mine, aincha? All mine." He nods feverishly, his hair tugging in my grip. "More... more kiss..." I chuckle and oblige. That's the second time in ten minutes I've told him he belongs to me; don't normally let myself say that out loud, but I notice he ain't arguing. He knows what he is. Fuck, that makes me hard, makes me ache for him. But not yet, got to wait for that. Things I gotta do first. I break the kiss again and move his hair enough to bite on his neck, scraping my teeth over the light stubble he has there today. He tips his head back through his arms, pressing it against the wall to give me more access. I lick around his Adam's apple and down into the hollow above his collarbone. He tastes both sweet and salty, like popcorn from both sides of the cinema dispenser. Dropping to my knees, I grin to myself at the whine of complaint from above. I know he thinks he should be the one on his knees, but tough. There's fuck all he can do about this; I'm getting my own way for once. Christ knows how often we've shagged by now, but not once has he ever come inside me. He's only ever been inside me once, in my mouth, that Sunday before I found myself coming out of a closet I never knew I was in. This time he won't be able to stop me. His prick sticks out hard and proud in front of me. I lick the dampness from its tip and then grab his hips as he does some weird kind of dance like he's trying to push closer and escape me at the same time. Stupid boy. Well, he can't move now; I've got him pinned. "Fuck, Christ," he swears above me. "No, Thom, stop. Stand up. You shouldn't... ah Jesus." I've taken him in, right to the back of my throat. I chuckle then pull back, sucking a little as I do. He whines and tries again to move, but he can't. Got his hips held rigid in my grip; best he can do is wriggle his upper body where it dangles from the fitting. "Thom. Oh God, you're... Ahhh." I'm enjoying this. Oh fuck, yeah, am I. Got him totally in my power, getting ever more helpless as I work my mouth on him, turning his words into just noises: moans and whines and tight cries. He's so fucking hard it's like trying to swallow an iron-bar skinned in velvet. And I've made him like this. Me. I look up, best I can in this position, and see his head hanging, eyes closed and mouth open. Makes me think of crucifixes, seeing him like that. He's got the figure for it too. Following impulse, I move my hands to the backs of his thighs and hoist him up onto my shoulders. He makes an uncertain noise and slips from my mouth as I do it, but I soon recapture him, my hands on his arse, holding him tight. I take him deep and swallow. He makes a noise of pain and pleasure mixed, like a sob and a desperate groan all at once. "Thom..." He's hanging heavily on me. His wrists must really be feeling it now, adding to the storm of sensation I'm building for him, and I'm going to up the pressure further now. I free one hand, making sure my other takes the strain, then pull my mouth from him long enough to cover two fingers in slobber. Then it's back to sucking and meaningful neck exercise as I push my fingers between his arse cheeks and straight inside him. He bucks, pushing his cock into the back of my throat hard enough to hurt, but I'm damned if I care when he's chanting my name like a fucking prayer above me, and I know he's just seconds off coming inside me for the first time ever. I work my fingers inside him the opposite to how I move my head, so I pull them nearly out as I bring my head back, thrust them in hard as I go right down on him, deep-throating like a pro. I'm going fast as I can, wanting to make these last few seconds unbearably fucking good for him. "Thom, Thom, Thom, fuck, oh fuck, Thom." He's wailing, thrashing his upper body about, fighting his bonds. "Shit, shit, shit, ahhh..." His hips thrust forward as he comes. I hold him inside me, as deep as he can go, and swallow and groan around him, my eyes shut and a feeling of triumph heating me up from inside. Eventually, I pull back, gently lower his feet to the floor and then stand. He leans against me, nuzzling and making soft noises as I wipe my fingers clean. I check his wrists. There's a lot of redness under and 'round the belt, friction burns I suppose. Next time we do this I'll make sure I got something nearby with altogether more padding. There's no nasty-looking whiteness though; blood's still pumping to and from his hands. Good. His wrists can stay bound for now. When I get the knot holding the belt round the light fitting undone, he slumps heavily in my arms. Have to get an arm round his waist quick like to stop him falling. Reckon it'll be easier to carry him to the bedroom than to try to get him to walk in this state, so I bend down and lift him, fireman style. He grunts quietly, but says nothing, and I lie him down gently as I can when I reach the bed, the black belt snaked down his pale body like a line dividing him. After stripping off the rest of my clothes I lay down beside him and stroke his arms and chest, checking he's not getting cold now his body's coming down from his stroll over the Himalayas back there. 'Cause if that weren't a peak experience I just gave him then I don't know what the hell is. Eventually, he turns his head on the pillow and smiles at me. "You're amazing, Thom. Your instincts about what I want... need, they're spot on. I really lo..." He bites his lip and looks suddenly frightened. Wish I had a clue what he's scared will happen if he lets himself say it, but suppose I should feel happy as that was the best attempt yet. I lean closer and kiss him. "Know you do, and it's mutual like. Gotta be, really. If I didn't love you no way would I put Mum through the shitstorm that descends every time me and the old man meet these days." Didn't really mean to mention that, but it's out now. Joe looks all big-eyed and concerned at me, rolling to his side and raising his bound hands to touch my cheek. "I'm sorry." "Not your fault. I made the decisions all the way along the not-so-straight line." "You've lost too much because of me." "Bollocks. A few mates that weren't really mates at all otherwise they wouldn't have cared who the hell I was fucking, that's all. Ain't lost Dad." I run a hand over my eyes, rubbing them, and snort. "Might wish I had at times, but he's still very much there, large as life and twice as bloody loud." Joe's biting his lip again and looking far too bloody unhappy for a bloke's who's just had a favourite sexual fantasy come true on him. Strands of his hair are falling over his face, and I push them away, tucking them behind his ear. "I don't regret anything, love," I tell him firmly as I know how. "Christ, can't you tell that? I'd do it all again, exactly the bloody same, rather than miss out on a chance to see you hanging, naked and hard for me, from your shit-ugly bracket lamp." That makes him giggle a little. "Probably not the safest thing we've ever done, you know. If that fitting had come off the wall, it could've brained one or both of us." I shrug, grinning. "Not much interested in safe when there's boyfriends to be tortured in all the best ways, and anyhow, I checked it last night. Knew it could take your weight." He grins back at me. "How long have you been planning this, dear?" "Long enough to get it right for you." I grip the belt where the leash meets the knots at the top and yank his hands down between us, straight to my cock. "And for me." His grin's a little wavery again now. He grips my cock using both hands and starts to wank me slowly. I feel my eyes flicker closed as I finally start getting what I've been wanting since I ran up the stairs to his flat. It's clumsy but still feels good, scratching the itch. "Thom," Joe says, still working me. "If we're going to do this sort of thing often, we should decide on a safe-word." "Mmm?" "Because you're not exactly part of the no-means-no crowd, darling. I must've said 'stop' about fifty times while you were sucking me." "Didn't want to stop, and you didn't want me to neither, whatever words your mouth was babbling." Eyes still closed, I move my face forwards, trying to find his mouth so I can shut him up. I feel him pull back from me. "Yes, I know, but that's not the point." I open my eyes to frown at him. "Yeah, it bloody well is. I'm trained not to listen to words; they're just distractions, lies. I listen to bodies for the truth. If you'd really wanted me to stop I would've known, would've stopped right away. You're safe with me, Joe." He nods, but kind of winces too. "No, I mean, yes, I am. I know that. But it doesn't always work. It's perfectly possible for my body to want something the rest of me doesn't." He takes his hands away from me, and I'm not happy. My mind and body are in total agreement on that. "Bloody hell, tell me your fucking safe-word then, but if you abuse it, don't expect no more of tonight's fun and frolics to happen. Crying wolf's just gonna piss me right off." Don't like the idea of a safe-word. Fucking hate it, really. Makes it all into a game, a fun way to spend a free afternoon. But this ain't a game, not to me. I've given so much to be with Joe -- my rep, my relationship with my old man, several long-time mates. I don't care. It's all worth it. Joe's worth any amount of altar fodder. But he's got to be mine for it to count. Not just a game, not just a leisure opportunity, but mine. Utterly fucking mine. Never felt like this before, and it scares the fucking marrow from my bones if I'm honest. "Alistair Krimple," Joe says, naming a boy from our form back at school, one of them brainy, weedy types. The poor kid was infamous for having a total freak-out session one day in assembly when some prats emptied a pot of spiders over his head; they'd found out he'd got a phobia somehow. He'd screamed like a little girl, peed himself and everything, all in front of the whole upper school. I beat the arseholes up for the poor sod afterwards; seemed the least I could do, but he never got over the humiliation and moved schools over the summer hols that year. Least ways, that's what they told us had happened to him. "That your idea of a safe-word?" I ask Joe. "I'm not likely to say it accidentally, am I?" I shrug. Still hate the idea. "Whatever makes you happy." His hands find me again. "You've gone soft," he says disappointedly, and I snort. Not exactly surprising, is it? "Sure you can do something about that," I tell him and push my hips at his hands. He starts to stroke me, his movements becoming firmer as I do, and I shut my eyes again, trying not to think of that poor git and the spiders. "That's better. Yeah. Don't stop this time." My mind seems determined to play nostalgia games now though. I'm remembering what we were like back then. Me, already a black belt in Jujitsu, but still with well too much teen mouthiness for anything higher, lording it over my year, keeping them all in line. Joe, his hair short back then, but his bod already too tall for his uniform and even skinnier than it is now, poncing about in that damn white scarf he was inseparable from for a whole year after coming out. Fuck knows what that was about. I snort, thinking about it. "What is it?" he asks. "You ever wonder what things would've been like if you'd... if we'd got together like this back at school?" "Shagging in the boys' locker-room?" he asks with a laugh. "No, it wouldn't have happened." "Why not?" "I would never have risked the most important friendship I had, and you... it just would never have crossed your mind that you might want me." "Didn't both those things still apply, back in October, when it did happen?" He laughs softly. "Yes, you're right. I don't know. I suppose we're both more able to take risks now." He pauses and then adds, "You in particular. I'm still too much of a coward. After I kissed you that night we were both so drunk..." He doesn't say any more but a shiver runs through him like he's a pond some twat chucked a brick into. "Still here, ain't I?" I say softly. "Not going nowhere." I feel his hands tighten round me, and for a few strokes, he wanks me harder. I hold my breath 'til he slows, and I can relax a little again. "Never been no one I want as much as you, Joe. Nowhere bloody near it." He makes a weird little noise and pushes closer, moving his face to mine so he can kiss me. I push my fingers into his hair and give him what he wants and more. His hands can barely move when he's pressed so close, but that's ok, 'cause it's all-change time. Can feel him growing hard again against me, you see. He's ready for more. I pull back and growl at him. "Gonna fuck you now. Take you so fucking hard the neighbours'll think I'm doing for you. Wherever you are over the next few days, whatever you're up to, you'll still be able to feel me inside you, feel the belt around your wrists, and know just whose property you are." "Christ," I hear him mutter as he shifts on the bed against me. "Yeah. Do it. Please, Thom. Want that." And I don't want to wait no more, hearing that. I move, tugging his hands away from me and up, above his head. I tie the lead to one of the narrow wooden planks that come down from the headboard to fix it to the divan. Then I pull him down the bed just enough to make the belt taut, his arms stretched out above his head. Straddling him, I grin down, and then bend to lick up his triceps. He's gonna really feel this tomorrow, too much stretch with not enough prep. Good. Fucking good. I'll see if I can do the same for his legs next, bending him double as I fuck him. Make him useless for Claire's purposes, whatever the hell they are. Yeah, childish, I know. I really know. My sensei would be so bloody ashamed of me. But Joe's mine, see. Girl's got to be shown. "Good mind to keep you tied like this 'til the drive to Yorkshire," I tell him, moving up the bed so I can play the tip of my cock over his lips, leaving them wet. "Take you whenever I fancy it and nothing you can do about it." His flared nostrils say he likes that idea, but all his mouth says is, "And when I want to piss?" "Sure I can find a handy bottle somewhere." He chuckles at that, his tongue then sticking out to lick at my prick's head. I push against his mouth, making him take me a little inside. We're both quiet for a little while now as I ever so gently fuck his mouth. Well, quiet of words anyway. Not so much of other noises. I put my hand on his wrists above his head, letting it rest on the knots binding him to the bed, binding him to me, and suddenly I want this all to last forever. I joke about torturing Joe, making him wait, drawing it out for him, but I reckon it's me I really like to torture 'cause I always let him come before I do, and even now I'm free to take him, I'm still distracting myself with trailers for the main event. He's just so fucking beautiful. I don't ever want to have had enough of him. |
I jog up the stairs to Joe's floor two at a time. I've got energy to burn; didn't get enough training done back at mine before Dad made it home. He was well the worse for wear after some work leaving do and about as friendly as a pitbull with its balls in a vice. I sodded off fast, which feels like I bottled it, but it really fucks Mum up when me and the old bastard start yelling at each other. I didn't want to put her through that again.