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I LOVE this chapter sooooo much. Hope you will too! Enjoy! TAG


 

Chapter 31 - Trust.



“There you are!” 


I jumped halfway out of my chair at the unexpected voice booming out within the relatively small confines of Egbert’s small kitchen. Bill The Cat, just as startled as I was, immediately jumped down from the table where he’d been nibbling on a scrap of turkey I’d been feeding him as we shared a midnight snack. Obviously, Bill knew he was in trouble, since he scurried off out of sight as fast as his furry butt could move. I looked up guiltily at my host, cringing at the look of horror on his poor fuzzy face as he contemplated the outrage of a dirty cat ass on his pristine table. Brian huffed an angry protest, grabbed the bottle of Lysol Spray and a roll of paper towels, and set about disinfecting pretty much everything in sight. For about half a second I thought he might spray me too out of an abundance of caution, but thankfully he resisted the impulse. 


I didn’t say anything, just sat there as unobtrusively as I could manage, until the cleaning frenzy tapered off of its own accord. Then I asked, “so, want me to make you a sandwich too?”


“It’s . . .” Brian scowled at the clock on the microwave. “It’s three o’clock in the morning, Justin. No, I don’t want a damn sandwich.” I couldn’t help it, I chuckled a little at his righteous outrage and, after about ninety seconds, his disapproving glare melted. “What the fuck are you doing up this late anyway. Other than contaminating my kitchen and corrupting my cat, that is?”


“I couldn’t sleep,” I shrugged, holding up the well-thumbed diary I had been pouring over while I noshed. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the mess with Billy and his dueling lovers . . . And I was hungry.”


“You’re always hungry. I swear you have a fucking bottomless stomach,” Brian shook his head at me but since he was smiling I knew he wasn’t really angry. “You realize I’ve had to quadruple my usual food order since you started hanging out here, don’t you?”


“I can’t help it. I’m still a growing boy.”


“Yeah, and it all goes toward padding your already ample ass.”


“Which - judging by the way you were pawing at it earlier - you love. So it’s all good, right?” I insisted with my brattiest smile.


Brian didn’t bother to deny it, merely pouring himself a glass of Beam and then pulling up another chair beside me so he could look over my shoulder. “And . . . what’s our little nympho, Billy, up to now?”


“Well, from what I can tell, he’s started on a course of action you’d approve of - he’s developing a taste for gay porn!” I explained, and then began to read the entry I’d just come across out loud. 


“‘Happy Christmas! We here in the The ‘Burgh find ourselves comfortable and well this Holiday Season, despite a vicious cold snap and much snow, which has melted just enough to turn the streets into a muddy soup. Because of the inclemency, I only ventured out briefly yesterday to see to the one imperative business matter that Father insisted must be completed before the New Year. In order to make that expedition less onerous, however, I included a visit to Andrew’s office on the way home and was gratified to receive warm Christmas wishes from my favorite architect. Andrew also gave me a most handsome first edition of Jack Saul’s ‘The Sins of The Cities of The Plain’ - a book that I have heard much discussed and am eager to read for myself despite its controversial reputation. I feel this work may be very educational, a sentiment which Andrew echoed . . .’” 


I set the journal aside and picked up my phone next, angling the screen so Brian could see what I had been looking at. “I googled the book he talks about. It’s, like, the very first porn novel ever published.”


“Nice. I approve,” Brian concluded as he quickly read through the wikipedia summary. 


“I thought you would,” I smiled at him and then returned to my reading, not liking where I saw the next few entries heading. “Hmm. Sounds like there’s trouble in paradise. Listen to this: ‘January 2, 1886 - And another New Year has now come and gone whilst I am still dabbling along in the same fashion. Alas, my celebration of Father Time’s annual retirement was rather uneventful this year as my Andrew is currently away in Philadelphia - he is meeting with a potential employer about the construction of a new office building - and could not be present for the festivities. However, there is some good news, as Andrew has won the bid for another job here in Pittsburgh and will therefore remain in residence at least through the completion of that project. Although, as that erection will not commence until at least Spring of next year, while the Deacons of the First Lutheran Church finish securing the financing for their new edifice, he is in need of other employment in the interim, hence the trip to Philadelphia. In the meantime, I have invited Jay Frick to accompany me to the theater this weekend so at least I will have some amusement in my life whilst Andrew is away.’”


“When the cat’s away, the mice will play . . . with the next well-hung cat they can find, apparently,” Brian summed up the state of affairs according to young William’s journal. “Billy, Billy, Billy . . . So much for all of Andrew’s efforts to hide Billy’s deviancy with a thousand miles of tunnels. As soon as his rich sugar Daddy goes out of town, the twink steps out on him. Typical.”


I couldn’t exactly argue with Eggy, as I skimmed through the next few months of journal entries, which included a few doozies . . .


January 14, 1886 - Have decided to use Father’s opera tickets this evening. Jay Frick will be joining me, without his wife, as poor Alma is indisposed with a touch of the catarrh. I expect that we boys will somehow manage to amuse ourselves nonetheless.’


‘February 7, 1886 - Ran into Jay Frick again this evening at the soiree hosted by Mrs. Charles Boyd. The esteemed Mrs. Boyd was staging one of her locally famed ‘Tableau Vivant’ - this one of ‘The Soldier’s Widow’. While I was gratified to have been included amongst the cream of Pittsburgh’s elite for this special evening, I was even more elated when Mr. Frick and I were able to steal away from the entertainments, leaving his wife in Mrs. Boyd’s capable hands, so that ‘the boys’ could go partake of more manly pastimes. We ended up passing a very pleasant few hours taking brandy and cigars in the basement sanctuary of the Triangle Building. A most congenial experience.’


March 22, 1886 - I must say that the amusements offered in Pittsburgh, while I’m sure they are most edifying, can become quite dull after a long, cold winter season. I have been to countless musical evenings, theater performances of questionable quality, and more screeching operas than I care to enumerate. I almost wish Father and Mother would return so that they can once more take up the mantle of the Carnegie Family’s social standing. It’s likely that I am grumbling more than is strictly necessary, missing Andrew’s company as I am. The only bright spot in this dreary scene has been my growing acquaintance with the young Mr. Frick - a highly diverting and eminently charming companion - who has been quite accommodating in making himself available to join me in some of the more mundane of my social obligations. We are becoming fast friends.’


April 10, 1886 - I can take the smoke and stench of Pittsburgh no longer! While Spring may be a glorious season in the minds of many, to those of us in this infernal city it means only more rain, more soggy shoes, more mud in the streets, and more unbreathable air as the fog and cold keep the smoke of our local industries from clearing properly. I have had one cold after another these many weeks because of the unhealthy atmosphere. Thankfully, my dear friend Jay has offered to take me with him to his country house for the week. Jay’s wife, Alma, will be unable to accompany us, as her sister is nearing the end of her confinement and will require her sibling’s company, so it will be just us men. I don’t care who will be going, so long as I am allowed to get out of The ‘Burgh for a time.’


“Sounds like Billy and Jay were spending way too much time together,” Brian voiced exactly what I was thinking. 


And then we read the entries that clinched our suspicions: ‘April 12, 1886 - I have done something that I fear is irredeemable but I am so far unable to regret my actions . . . What a terrible quandary! Why, oh why, did I think accepting an invitation to go to the country with Jay would be a wise idea? I should have known, based on our past, overly-cordial relations, that it would not be advisable for we two to spend such inordinate periods of time alone together. It is no excuse that I have been missing Andrew while he was away in Philadelphia these many long months. Nor is it any justification that Jay’s wife, Alma, has been so ill most of the past winter. And yet, all of these circumstances have combined so that, after one too many snifters of brandy, things have now progressed to a point that I fear we are lost . . .’


‘April 20, 1886 - I am now returned from my Idyll in the Country and I am perplexed as to how that leaves things. I dare not write down all the developments that occurred over the past fortnight, for fear that this journal might one day be discovered and my secrets exposed, but leave it at the fact that I have betrayed both myself and my dear Andrew. What have I done?’


May 1, 1886 - Despite my best intentions to amend my ways and my heartfelt determination to avoid all temptations, I can not stay away. It does not help matters at all that Mr. Frick and I run in the exact same social circles and must, of necessity, see each other on an almost daily basis. And once we are in the same room, I find I can’t look away. I am drawn to him like a moth to a flame - I know it is a destructive instinct and yet I’m unable to fight it. Whatever shall we do?’


“Damn, Billy. What the fuck did you go and do that for?” I grumbled, angrier on Peebles’ behalf than was logical. Somehow, though, I felt personally betrayed. “I think I have to agree with you, Brian; Billy was a total nympho. And kind of a slut, too, if we’re being honest.”


“Now, now, Sunshine. We shouldn’t judge,” Brian cautioned. “Weren’t you the one who was commenting earlier that there was too big a difference in their ages and it wasn’t going to end well? You shouldn’t be surprised to find yourself proved right.”


I growled and complained that I didn’t WANT to be right this time as I read aloud the final few entries that confirmed our suspicions about Billy’s shifting affections. 


“‘May 5, 1886 - I just received a note saying that Andrew has returned from Philadelphia and wishes to see me this evening. I have been in a panic since the moment I read this missive. What am I going to say to him? Should I bare my soul and confess or maintain my silence and hide my shame? I desperately wish that there was anyone I could confide in but, alas, men like myself must perforce live our lives in silence or risk destruction. However, I do not know how I can face Andrew after what I have done.’


“‘May 6, 1886 - It is over! I had to tell him. I went to see Andrew, prepared to stifle my qualms and carry on as if nothing had changed, but he immediately sensed that he’d already lost my heart. He called me out and I was forced to confess all my transgressions. Perhaps it is for the best. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I did not find that result to be true for myself. My former obsession has grown decidedly cold, perhaps killed by the frosts of winter, or maybe just burned out by the warmth that I found this spring while at Jay’s country house. But either way, it was there no more upon Andrew’s return. I can only hope that sweet Andrew will find some other to amuse him from here on. Meanwhile, I am determined to remember our time together fondly - I have no regrets other than how I mangled the ending of such a fond interlude.’”


“Well, so much for the promise of true love,” Brian concluded, shoving back his chair and getting to his feet. “True lust wins out again.”


“Don’t say that,” I argued, closing the disappointing journal and trotting after Eggy as he headed out of the kitchen. “Maybe what Billy and Peebles had wasn’t true love - I mean, they were kind of a mismatch, age-wise and all - but that doesn’t mean that kind of love doesn’t exist. It just means Andrew wasn’t the right one for Billy.”


“You sound like a silly romantic fool, Sunshine,” Brian scoffed disdainfully and stomped off without another word. 


I followed Eggy into his bedroom, still clutching Billy’s journal in my hand as if I might need it as evidence in whatever argument we were about to have, watching as he tossed the robe he’d been wearing aside and climbed back into bed. I could tell by the tense set of his shoulders and the frown wrinkles on his forehead that he was angry, I just didn’t know why. Why did he suddenly seem all closed off, like he was excluding me, both emotionally and maybe physically as well? What had I said to so annoy him? He wasn’t seriously THAT offended by my prattling on about ‘True Love’, was he? It almost felt like he was blaming me for the unhappy ending we’d been reading about in Billy’s journal. 


I approached the bed cautiously, not completely sure if I was still welcome or not. He didn’t even look up, though, when I sat gingerly on the far edge of the mattress. I nervously played with a tiny frayed section on the hemming of the duvet while I wracked my brain to come up with something to say; some way to break through the icy barrier that had appeared between us without warning. 


“Egbert?” He still didn’t look up, just kept staring at his hands which were clenched around a wad of sheets and blankets. “Brian, please. Talk to me. Did I say something to piss you off? What’s wrong?”


“It’s nothing.”


“Obviously it’s something or you wouldn’t be pouting like that.”


“I’m not pouting!” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest while his pout got even more exaggerated. I wanted nothing more than to kiss it away, but controlled myself. Now wasn’t the time. 


It was just so ridiculous - the way he was acting like a grouchy four year old who’d been punished for being naughty - that I found myself laughing out loud. Which, of course, only made Brian more angry and more pouty. I mean, what a huge Drama Queen, right? So I laughed even harder, eventually falling sideways onto the pillows and rocking back and forth, overcome with mirth. And, even when Eggy slapped half-heartedly at me with the back of one hand trying to get me to shut up, I only laughed harder, till there were tears starting to leak out of the corners of my eyes. It got so bad I was sorta gasping, having trouble catching my breath as I literally roared with laughter, and rolling around on the edge of the bed, until I rolled just a little too far and fell all the way off the damned mattress. Which stopped the laughter, at least.


“Are you done giggling yourself silly at my expense, Brat?” Brian asked, peering down at me over the side of the bed.


“I don’t know. Are you done throwing your preschool temper tantrum?” I asked, smiling up at him with one last chuckle. 


“You’re the biggest fucking brat I’ve ever met, you know that, right?” he growled at me, although I could tell he wasn’t quite as upset as he’d been before, having finally succumbed to the infection of my sense of hilarity. 


“Me? You should see yourself when you’re acting like a pouty four year old, Eggy. It’s kind of adorable.”


He relented, no longer frowning, just shaking his head at me the way he always does, like he simply doesn’t know WHAT to make of me. “Get up off the floor before you freeze to death, you little shit,” he ordered, holding up the edge of the blankets for me so I could slide back into bed with him. 


I immediately stripped off the t-shirt and sweats I’d been wearing and climbed in. He was toasty warm. I naturally rolled over so I was snuggled up against his side, in my usual position, my left hand snaking across his waist to pull him even closer. I smiled and let the warmth of his body seep through my skin.


‘Shit, even when he’s acting like a baby’, I thought to myself, ‘he’s still beautiful. I still want to be with him. I still love him . . .’


And, with that thought bouncing crazily around in my brain, I suddenly realized it was true. 


I loved him. 


I LOVED this amazingly complex and slightly exasperating man. Whatever we’d had - the initial attraction, the growing affection, the full-blown lust of our early explorations - it had all been leading up to this. I loved him, OCD rituals, hairy face, temper tantrums, and all. This was something I’d never come close to before. Something I’d never felt before. I was fucking in love. This was it for me.


“Damn . . .” I mumbled, overwhelmed by my private, earth-shattering, epiphany. 


While I had been busy, trying to wrap my head around my stunning new discovery, Brian had finally begun to explain himself, and I eventually tuned in to what he’d been saying. “I . . . I guess . . . It’s just that Billy sounds so . . . So ungrateful, you know? Here’s Peebles, working his ass off, spending fuck knows how much money in the process, to protect Billy. Building him secret rooms and staircases and tunnels and showing him the ropes of gay life, which couldn’t have been easy back then. And the second he’s away on business the annoying little twink just forgets about him? That’s gratitude for you, huh? It just goes to prove you can’t fucking trust anyone . . .”


Which is when it dawned on me just what the problem was here; Brian was identifying with Peebles. He saw himself as the older man with the twink lover. He had been lonely and unsure of himself until, almost miraculously, he found a lover who returned his affections. But, even when he’d done all he could to prove his love, Peebles was abandoned; exactly the thing that Brian himself was scared of, and the reason he’d isolated himself in this safe, empty tower for so long.


“You can trust me, Brian,” I stated boldly. 


He snorted softly and turned his head, looking off towards the far corner of the room, preventing me from seeing his expression clearly. But I wasn’t going to take that. I grabbed hold of his chin and pulled his face around, propping myself up on my right elbow so I could look directly into his eyes. 


“You CAN trust me, Brian,” I insisted. “Despite appearances, I’m not some flighty little Twink. And I’m not going to just disappear on you one day.”


“You say that now, but . . .”


“No buts,” I maintained. “I’m serious here. I’m not like Billy. If anything, I’m more like Peebles.” He looked skeptical, so I started listing all my arguments, pointing them out by tapping my fingers against his chest, one at a time, as I went. “I’m an artist who is fascinated with architecture. I’m tenacious - I’ll go to ridiculous lengths to get what I want. I’m protective, and maybe even a little bit possessive, of what I perceive to be mine. And, while I might have a bit of a romantic streak in me, I’d like to think it’s tempered with practicality. Which is why, you see, I’d do whatever it takes to make sure I can be with the man I love.”


He seemed inordinately shocked at my little declaration, staring up at me with little wrinkles of confusion outlining his eyes and a puckering at the downturned corners of his lips. But I refused to look away. I would stare down any doubts he might have. I would pelt him with my truth until he finally believed he could trust me not to take his love and then abandon him. I would infuse him with my own, newfound, certainty.


“Do you trust me?” I asked when I started to see the first flicker of credence peek out from under his long, dark auburn lashes. “Tell me, Brian, do you trust me?”


I waited. It took him a full minute or more to reply. I could see the arguments - both pro and con - flittering behind his eyelids. But I just kept staring at him and refusing to back down. Just when it was starting to feel awkward, though, he relented. I could see the moment he accepted what I was promising him; his whole body seemed to relax, the worry lines on his forehead smoothed out, and he let out the breath he’d been subconsciously holding. 


“Yeah,” he whispered. “I think I actually do.”


“Good.” 


I leaned in so I could kiss him to seal the promise, loving the way his tentative response gradually became surer the longer our lips remained joined. Damn, for somebody who hated germs, it was pretty amazing how well that boy could kiss, you know? But, just when it was starting to get really heated, I felt him pulling away. I tried to follow him, refusing to relinquish his lips for even a second, but he pushed me away with a small chuckle and leaned across the bed towards the tray full of condoms. However, instead of grabbing one of the flavored ones we’d been using lately, he plucked out one of his personal Trojan XL’s, leading me to think my Eggy had something special in mind.


“Go on, slip it on my dick,” he ordered imperiously, causing little happy shivers of anticipation to gallop up my spine.


I accepted the small foil packet, tore it open and followed directions like a good little boy, rolling the latex disc all the way down the thickness of his throbbing cock. I immediately started stroking him, expecting that to be where all this was headed, with no objection from me, of course, because fuck knows I loved the weighty feel of holding him in my hand. But before I really got going, he stopped me, handing off another condom and pointing to my own dick. Okay, I thought, mutual handjobs. Sweet. This was trending better and better. 


I scrambled to suit up as fast as was humanly possible but when I reached for his cock again, he intercepted me, pushing my body away. I was totally confused by that point. I didn’t struggle, though, as the steady pressure of his big hand against my chest continued to press me further and further back until I was lying down all the way with my head against the pillows. But it wasn’t until he began to climb up the bed, straddling my legs, that I finally got an idea where, exactly, Brian was going with all this. 


Was he really going to . . . Holy shit! 


Needless to say, I was kinda shocked. I hadn’t seen this coming at all. I didn’t think he was anywhere close to being ready for THIS . . . Not that I was going to complain, mind you.


“Relax, Brat,” he crooned with that sexy, half-hidden smile peeking out of the wilds of his beard. “You told me I could trust you; now you’re going to have to return the favor.”


Okay, so, I admit I’d tensed up a bit, but it was only the surprise factor. I absolutely trusted him; I tried to relax as he commanded. However, I was almost afraid to breathe, let alone say anything - worried that if I made the wrong move or said too much he’d stop - so actually relaxing was a tough call. 


A minute later, and all my relaxation efforts were completely blown away when Brian moved around so that he could lift my legs up to his shoulders. His motions were measured but intentional. This was something he wanted and he was making a conscious decision to move forward. And I was so there for all of it! Now I was the one holding my breath expectantly.


Without a word, Brian snicked open the top of the lube and squirted a heavy dollop directly on the sensitive skin around my hole. I gave a small yelp and jumped. This caused my soon-to-be-lover to grin down at me mischievously. 


“It’s cold,” I complained.


“It’ll heat up.”


I nodded up at him. 


“Now, finger yourself for me,” Brian ordered, pulling back so that he was resting on his haunches, watching my every move. 


Did I mention how turned on I was by a domineering Eggy? Shit! I immediately spread my legs and dropped my knees onto the mattress. I felt extremely exposed but the horniest I have ever been in my whole entire life. 


I could feel him watching me as I started to run my index finger through the lube around my hole. He was right, this definitely had heated up. I looked over and noticed that the lubricant we were using was one of those high end brands that I could never in my wildest dreams afford, the kind which leaves you feeling all hot and tingly. 


“Put your finger inside, Justin. I’m waiting.”


Fuck, he was so sexy when he was being all controlling. 


I didn’t hesitate, I did as he asked and stuck my finger up my ass. Damn, it felt good. I pumped my finger in and out for a while before he told me to add another. I groaned loudly, the feel of my fingers, the heat from the lube, and the knowledge that he was watching me was almost too much. 


“That’s it, Justin. Just like that. Spread your fingers a little.”


“Mmmm.”


“Now add another finger and lift your ass up for me.”


“Mmm, Brian . . . this . . . this feels so good.”


“Yeah?” He was grinning at me with the biggest fucking smile and I wanted to kiss him so badly. Scratch that - I NEEDED to kiss him. 


“Kiss me,” I panted heavily as my fingers continued to work their magic. 


As soon as I said it, Brian was leaning down and taking my lips between his, kissing me like he’d never kissed me before. It was intense and romantic and hotter than hell, all at the same time. 


Next, he popped open the lube again, this time applying a generous amount to his condom-coated dick. Was this really about to happen? I felt like I was living in a dream. With his OCD and all that entailed, I’d never actually believed we’d get to this point, at least not this soon. And I’d been more than willing to wait. But if I didn’t have to, I was fine with that too. More than fine, to be honest. Hell, I was totally, completely, one hundred percent on board with this development. I dug my fingers a little deeper inside my ass, hitting my prostate just right, and moaned. Fuck, yeah, I was more than ready for what I hoped was coming.


Just then, Brian reached for the wrist of the hand that was still working at my hole and pulled my fingers out - more roughly than I expected - causing me to groan loudly. 


“Look at me, Justin. I need you to keep your eyes open, okay?”


I nodded and watched as he crawled towards me, effortlessly cinching my legs higher over his shoulders, taking his dick in his hand, and giving it a few strokes before he brought it up to my hole. I heard myself exhale loudly as he rubbed himself teasingly against the sensitive skin of my ass. Shit! I probably wasn’t half as nervous the night I lost my virginity, but right then? Yeah, I was a needy, expectant mess. 


“Are you ready, Justin? Are you ready to forget your name?”


“Fuck, yes.” Hell, by that point I’d have begged if I thought it would hurry this thing along because I didn’t think I’d ever wanted anything more in my entire life.


“Good boy,” he breathed out. The look on his face was unreal; he looked exactly the same as he always did, except there was something different in his eyes. Confidence, maybe? I don’t know. But I liked it.


I locked eyes with Brian as I felt him begin to slowly push inside of me, but he soon looked away, his eyes focused on his dick, watching in amazement as he slowly entered me. 


“Look at us, Justin. Look at how your body is enveloping me so easily, so eagerly. Your ass was made for me.”


I shivered at his words. The feeling of being owned by him at this moment was almost too much - especially when it had all been so unexpected - despite my personal epiphany of a little while earlier. Don’t get me wrong, I was perfectly fine being owned by this glorious man, but it was all coming at me so fast. It was a lot to adjust to. I had to take a deep breath and allow myself to relax as he pressed further into me. 


Also, did I mention before just how fucking huge Eggy is - my asshole was stinging from the stretch even while the fullness inside of me felt amazing - so, yeah, relaxing was a tiny bit problematic here, you know, no matter how much I wanted him.


“More . . . I need all of you,” I heard myself begging despite everything and could see myself pawing at his body, trying to pull him closer; proving, once again, that mind over matter was a real thing. 


“Shit . . . fuck.” Brian was panting wildly above me as he pushed inside me all the way to his balls. 


My body swallowed his cock to the hilt. I was clenching onto it tightly, like I was afraid he might suddenly realize he wasn’t ready for this and try to escape. Now that I knew what it felt like to have him inside of me, I couldn’t go back. I just couldn’t.


“Oh, shit, Brian . . . Fuck me . . . Harder.”


Brian stopped moving. He looked at me, the lust momentarily clearing from his eyes, and I saw him glance at our connected bodies. For a brief moment I thought that was it, we were done; he was going to freak and pull out. But then he smiled at me, a gloriously happy gleam sparking in his hazel eyes, and started thrusting his hips like his life depended on it. I swear to all that’s gay, he was hitting places inside of me that had never been touched before. I struggled to breathe as he relentlessly pushed and pulled, in and out of my body. 


“That’s it, Justin. Give yourself to me.”


“I am . . . you . . . you have all of me, Brian. All of me.”


I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. Not when he was whispering shit like that in my ear and his cock was pumping in and out of my ass, taking me to places I had never been. Plus there was also the whole deliciousness of his weight pressing my body into the mattress. Can you say, Amaaaaaaazing? Fucking, yeah!


When I couldn’t take it any longer, I tried to reach for my cock, which was sandwiched between our sweaty bodies, but Brian kept pushing my hand away. 


“Stop it. Don’t touch yourself. I want you to come from my cock alone. Are you ready?”


He had the sexiest look in his eyes as he spoke; a mixture of determination and mischief. I nodded my head and, with both hands, I gripped tightly onto his biceps, enjoying the feel of his muscles pulsating under my fingers as he exerted himself. I could feel myself unraveling, the tingling in my spine becoming more and more intense the closer I got to coming. I already knew this orgasm was going to be insane because I was starting to see flashes of light and I knew I was already holding my breath. 


“That’s it, Justin. Let go. Come for me.”


Well, if he fucking insisted.


It was like I had no control of my body; it was listening to him instead of me. And the moment he told me to let go, I did. I felt myself exploding into the condom. I tried to maintain eye contact with the god possessing me, body and soul, but couldn’t. My eyes fluttered, eventually squeezing tightly shut, allowing me to enjoy the fireworks going off behind my eyelids as I literally saw stars. I couldn’t control how much I was shaking. It was like I’d been caught in the middle of a private electrical storm and the lightning was arcing through my body, sending me into happy convulsions of sensation. 


Luckily, the feel of Brian’s powerful orgasm seemed to bring me back a heartbeat later. Somehow it seemed to ground me; it allowed me to once again focus on the reality of this world. I melted back into my bones and savoured the feel of his cock pulsating in my ass. 


Finally, Brian groaned loudly in my ear, collapsing on top of me as he finished. 


“Mmhmm,” I hummed, enjoying the comforting feeling of the larger body blanketing me. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but I’m curious. What brought all that on?”


I felt Brian’s weight shift as he rolled sideways, leaning over so he could reach down onto the floor beside the bed, and waving the worn diary he found there in my face. 


“What? Andrew and Billy’s relationship crashing and burning makes you horny? That’s kind of twisted, you know?” I joked.


He used the journal to slap me upside the head lightly. “No, wiseass. What I mean is . . .” He laid the diary down atop my chest and tapped at the cover nervously with his fingers as he worked to come up with the words to explain himself. “I guess it was all that shit with Billy and how you were saying it was all about trust.” I could feel the tension this discussion caused him, the unease communicated directly through our sweat-plastered bodies, skin to skin. Finally, he just shrugged and let his hand fall still. “You said I could trust you. That you aren’t like Billy. And, I just . . . I knew it was true. I knew I COULD trust you. So . . .”


“So . . .” I repeated, offering him a smile that was so big it felt like my face was going to crack wide open.


Because, yeah. Love. And trust. Yeah.


 

 

Chapter End Notes:

6/26/19 -Trust by Sarah McLachlan. As always, we authors take our research seriously, so it’s no surprise we researched the perfect christmas gift for a gay man to give his lover in the 1880s and came up with this: The Sins of The Cities of The Plain - this book, first published in 1881, is widely cited as the first ever work of pornographic gay literature. I haven’t read it yet myself, but from what I understand, it details the adventures of a ‘Mary Ann’ (aka, a rent boy) in England. Which is just the kind of thing our Billy would be interested in, don’t you think? I believe you can sometimes still find used copies of this book on Amazon, in case you’re interested... So, how’d you like the big hoorah? *wink* TAG & Sally.

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