After watching him look at me dumbfounded for several seconds, I took the tube back, popped the top, and squeezed some onto the fingers of his right hand. I had never in my life verbally told a man to fuck me and I wasn't about to start now.

Something clicked in his little blonde head before he rolled me onto my back and started kissing me hungrily. He reached down between my legs, and I felt his slick index finger run around the rim of my asshole before it dipped inside. Since I hadn't been fucked in a long time, I instinctually tried to force him out. The persistent boy pushed his way through, and I forced myself to relax as he slid his finger in as far as it would go.

He patiently and methodically prepared me over the next several minutes, all the while kissing me thoroughly. I couldn't recall ever being so gentle with a man before, even when I knew the trick was a virgin, and I filed away his technique in my brain for future reference. What I always found to be a stressful and painful experience was quite enjoyable with Justin's talented fingers at play.

He had tapped my prostate several times, and I was almost ready to cum before his dick had even been inside of me. Finally I had to pull my lips away in order to speak.

"Okay... okay," I panted.

"Okay, what?" he asked, his magic fingers still doing their thing.

"I'm ready," I answered.

He smiled. "Ready for what?"

I let out a growl. "You know what."

He kissed me on my jaw before whispering, "Tell me... tell me what you want."

The little shit... "I want you inside me."

He kissed me on my lips before saying, "I am inside you."

I then grabbed his wrist and pulled his fingers out of my hole. I rolled over and retrieved a condom from the nightstand, then threw the packet at him.

"You better do this before I change my mind, Goddamn it," I huffed out, getting annoyed.

He chuckled as he tore the packet open. "Oh, you know you want me to fuck you... you're just too proud to ask for it out loud."

I narrowed my eyes at him as I watched him roll the condom onto his beautiful dick. Instead of getting into position to fuck me, he just laid there, his hand propping his head up like a blonde, mustache-less Burt Reynolds on a bear skin rug.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?" I asked him, my asshole pulsating in anticipation, which had never happened before. I wanted him to fuck me so bad I was ready to maul him like a rabid dog.

He smiled again. "I'm waiting for you to tell me what you want."

I sighed, then grabbed him by his wrist and pulled him on top of me. "Put your dick in my ass, Taylor."

He let out another chuckle. "Yes, sir, Mr. Kinney," he purred.

What ensued was nothing short of awe-inspiring. After spreading more lube over the condom, Justin pulled my long legs over his shoulders and slowly entered me inch by inch. It hurt at first, of course, but he waited while I adjusted to him, and then he started moving after I told him I was ready. Just like he had when he rode me the other night, Justin looked deep into my eyes while he slowly fucked me. I knew I had to be tighter than a clam shell, but he showed great restraint as he continued to pump in and out, gaining speed as the minutes ticked by.

I eventually lowered my legs and wrapped them around his waist, and he was able to reach my dick much easier. He started jerking me off in time with his thrusts, but I pulled his hand away a bit later. I wanted it to last as long as we both could hold out and I couldn't remember the last time I had an orgasm without my dick being touched. I knew that if anyone could do it, this talented boy certainly could.

I was holding onto both of his biceps, most likely leaving little half-moon indentions as I dug my freshly manicured fingernails into him. I'm usually not very loud in bed, but I couldn't help but moan with each exhale, it felt so amazing.

"Harder," I grunted, lifting my hips as high as I could so he could penetrate me deeper.

"You're so beautiful, Brian," he panted, his blue eyes focused on me.

I smiled at him right before I came, and he followed me after a few more deep thrusts, both of us yelling out our approval. He tried to pull out after he finished, but I tightened my legs around his waist to keep him in place.

"Stay," I said as I pulled him down to lay his head on my chest.

Jesus Christ... what the fuck was happening to me? Kissing him... blowing him... falling asleep with him... fucking him on more than one night... booking a "Couples" spa day and spending my last day in Mexico entirely with him... and finally, willingly bottoming for him and thoroughly enjoying it?

Its official: I'm totally fucked up and it's all thanks to a pretty little blonde boy with a mouse on his back and a rabbit on his ankle. I'm just hoping that this insanity is only temporary. Maybe the warm weather, the alcohol, and the ocean air are distorting my normal rhythms, and once I'm back in cold, smoggy-ass Pittsburgh I'll snap out of this funk.

But what about the kiss in the smoking lounge, Smart Guy? the nagging voice in my head asked me. Weren't you the one who said to Brandon that you never kiss, because people kiss when they make love, and you don't make love, you fuck? And you not only said that to him, but you've said it to countless other tricks before him who tried to swap spit! Whatcha got to say about that, huh?

I must admit that I was the one who initiated that kiss in the lounge, although Justin happily returned it. And I also have to admit that what Justin and I have been doing these past few days was not fucking, but making love. I've fucked hundreds upon hundreds of men since losing my virginity at age fourteen, and never have any of them made me feel what Justin has made me feel during our time together. Even back when I would kiss the guy I was fucking or being fucked by, it was never like what I've felt with Justin.

I could feel him soften inside of me after a couple of minutes, so I finally let him pull out and throw the condom away in the trash can next to the bed. Like the thoughtful lover he was, he went into the bathroom and returned soon after with a warm, wet washcloth to wipe my cum off of my belly for me.

He laid back down beside me after we were both clean, and he snuggled up against my side. As I wrapped my arms around him, I told my nagging conscience that this was the last night Justin and I would spend together. Once we got back home, I would just have to forget that he and I ever happened and ignore all the lesbionic feelings I was having for him. I knew I would not be able to avoid him at the office, especially since we still had a lot to do on the Honeycutt campaign along with the other campaigns we will inevitably collaborate on in the future, but we would have to keep things professional for now on. No more lingering glances or exchanged smiles, and definitely no more kisses. If he ever blew me another kiss while no one was looking, I'd have to cut his hand off or something equally drastic to discourage him.

Because we weren't home just yet, I fucked him one more time before we went to sleep. Fucked him, not made love to him. I did him doggy-style and was actually pretty rough with him. I gripped his hips tightly, which resulted in visible bruises the next morning, and I slammed into him as hard as I could.

No matter how hard I gave it to him though, he pushed back against me eagerly with every thrust. He was very vocal throughout the whole thing, moaning and telling me how good it felt. He even ordered me to spank him at one point, and I gave him a firm whap on his right butt cheek. He squealed happily, so I gave him a smack on his left cheek, which he also enjoyed.

We both flopped down on the bed in total exhaustion after we came, sweating like pigs and gasping for air.

"Holy shit... that was fucking hot!" he said, laughing. "I'm going to feel that for days!"

I couldn't help but smile as I lit a cigarette. "Good."

He fell asleep soon after, but I laid there next to him for the next couple of hours staring at him and watching him breathe in the light coming through the crack of the curtains. Once I finally fell asleep, it felt like all of five minutes later before the alarm clock blared at five a.m. for us to get up, packed, and down to the lobby to meet the girls for our shuttle to the airport at five-thirty.

Cynthia was originally supposed to have the seat next to mine from Puerto Vallarta to Chicago, where we were connecting to Pittsburgh, but she switched with Justin so we could sit together again. Apparently Justin was still exhausted from last night, because he conked out on my shoulder soon after our plane took off. I was listening to Led Zeppelin on my portable CD player when I too fell asleep at some point during "Kashmir".

We woke up a little bit later to eat sandwiches that were for sale on the plane for lunch, and I watched as he sketched caricature versions of the two of us standing back-to-back with our arms crossed on a sketchpad he had in his messenger bag. He also had a pack of colored pencils, and he completed the drawing by having the smirking version of me in a red t-shirt and black pants and the smiling version of him in a blue t-shirt and brown pants. Although our heads were nearly as big as our bodies, I thought we looked great together. He tore the page out and gave it to me to keep, and I put it in my brief case. I didn't tell him that I planned on framing it and displaying it in my loft to remember our trip.

I made Justin a member of the Mile High Club about an hour before we were to land. I went into one of the bathrooms and he joined me a minute later. He sat on the sink facing me while I fucked him... alright, while I made love to him. He was tender from the rough ride I gave him the night before, so I took it slow as I held him close and kissed him until we both finished. I held him and breathed in his scent afterward until a flight attendant announced over the intercom that we were beginning our descent into Chicago.

I caught Cynthia giving me a knowing smile from her window seat across the aisle from us as we sat back down. If she had any sense at all, she wouldn't mention this later.

None of us had seats together on the small plane from Chicago, so I read a car magazine I bought in the airport while Justin finished Atlas Shrugged a couple rows in front of me.

A shuttle took us back to Vangard to retrieve our cars. I walked Justin to his, which was parked a few spaces down from mine in Bonehead Bob's old spot, and helped him put his suitcase in the trunk.

"Do you want to go grab some dinner somewhere?" he asked after closing the trunk lid.

I shook my head. "Raul was supposed to email me the file containing the pictures from the shoot this morning, so I'll be going through those at home tonight and tomorrow."

"I can come to your place and look at them with you," he said, clearly not wanting to part from me just yet.

It was hard for me to do, but I shook my head again. "No, I'll weed out the bad photos, and you'll see the good ones at the office on Monday. I'll copy them to a disc and bring them in. How about you meet me in my office at nine-thirty on Monday morning?"

Justin pouted a bit and nodded. "Okay. I guess I'll see you Monday, then."

He started coming in for a kiss, but I stepped away before he could connect. "Later," I called over my shoulder as I walked over to the Jeep, pulling my rolling suitcase behind me.

Justin came to my office at nine-thirty on the dot Monday morning, and he moved a chair so he could see my computer monitor. His tie that day featured Sylvester the Cat, and he wore it over a gray shirt with black slacks. We looked through the photos, which were magnificent, until almost noon. I had no doubt that Honeycutt would be very happy with them. Emmett was originally hoping to go to Puerto Vallarta with us to observe the shoot, but had to go to Milan instead for a charity event. I wasn't disappointed that he wasn't able to go, because his exaggerated mannerisms and thick accent would have only been a distraction.

I turned down a lunch invitation from Justin to grab a bite with him at the café down the street. I instead drove over to the Liberty Diner alone, where I chatted with Mikey's mother Debbie at the counter while I ate my usual turkey on whole grain. She mentioned that I looked very relaxed after my trip, but the truth was that I felt torn up inside over the Justin Debacle that I allowed to transpire.

I went up to the art department after getting back to the building and met with the team in the conference room. Justin had one of his underlings print out the photos we deemed the best during lunch, and we spread them out on the table so we could all look them over together.

Vance stopped by around four to see the photos we had decided to use, and he was very pleased. We'll see how pleased he'll be next month after he gets the credit card bill for our trip...

I didn't see Brandon all day, since he had no business poking his nose into my business, anyway. I was actually looking forward to our little rendezvous that night, since I knew it would help me get Justin out of my mind.

We wrapped at six that evening, and I took the elevator down to my office without saying goodbye to Justin. I had just put my Prada camel overcoat on and grabbed my briefcase before Justin knocked on my door.

"Hey," he said, looking apprehensive as he leaned against the doorway. "So, uh... do you have any plans tonight?"

I turned off the light switch before walking out into the hallway and towards the elevator. "I do, actually."

"Oh," he said, his disappointment evident in his voice. "Okay, how about tomorrow night? We can grab some dinner and maybe go see a movie or something."

We stopped at the elevators and I pressed the down arrow. "Justin... look, what went on in Mexico... it was fun and all, but now that we're back home in the real world, I think it would be best if we go back to just being coworkers."

He looked at me bitterly before scoffing. "What happens in Puerto Vallarta stays in Puerto Vallarta... is that the new saying?"

The elevator doors opened and we both stepped inside. "If you want to think of it that way, sure."

I tried not to look at him, but I could see his reflection in the shiny elevator door as we rode down. He was frowning and looked like he was going to cry, and I felt my chest tighten.

I decided the best way to handle this was to not say anything. He had a different idea, though.

"So you're just going to pretend like last week didn't happen- that the time we spent together meant nothing?" he said, his words a bit choked.

I sighed. "It didn't mean anything, Justin. All we did was fuck."

Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Kinney, the nagging voice in my head taunted.

The doors opened on the first floor and we stepped out. We walked side by side into the garage and to our cars, neither of us saying anything. We reached his car first, and I told him I'd see him in the morning as I continued to my car.

"Fuck you," I heard him mutter as he fumbled with his keys.

After getting in the Jeep, I sat there as I waited for his BMW to pass behind me and head toward the exit. Once he was gone, I turned the engine over, turned the heater on full blast to warm up, and rested my forehead on the steering wheel.

I felt like such a shit for hurting him, but I had to do what I had to do. I blinked back tears as I backed up out of my space and headed home.

There was a knock at my door at precisely eight o'clock that night. Wearing nothing but a white wife beater and a pair of jeans, I pulled the door open and found Brandon on the other side. I smirked at him for having the balls to actually show up.

"You can have my ass, but you can't have me," he announced.

I chuckled. "Defiant, even in defeat. I like that." I stepped aside to allow him in, and I pulled the door closed.

He looked around the loft. "Nice place... so, can we get this over with?"

"Allow me to point the way," I said before directing him toward my bedroom.

"Just go slow, and take it easy," he said. "I don't bottom very often."

I chuckled again. "Well, you'll have to tell me all about it."

Bullshit! the nagging voice screamed. You know exactly what it's like. You just had a dick up your ass a few days ago, and you fucking loved it! Maybe Justin could even teach this guy a thing or two.

I silently told the voice to shut the fuck up as Brandon walked over to my bedroom. I poured myself a couple shots of Jameson as I watched him strip, revealing his perfectly toned physique to me once again. I tossed the whiskey back before going over to meet him, finding him lying on his stomach on my bed.

I stood next to the bed staring at him for a few moments, and he looked over his shoulder impatiently. "Aren't you going to collect your prize?" he asked.

I let out a slow breath. I decided to play the egotistical asshole card I dealt so expertly: "It's not much of a victory considering my years of experience and expertise. Not only am I more attractive, have a bigger dick, and am a better pool player than you, but I'd bet I'm better at picking up tricks, too. I've had nearly every fuckable guy in this city."

He rolled to his side to get a better look at me. "Your years are numbered, and there's a younger generation of fags out there who you haven't had. While you were frolicking on the beach in Mexico last week, I spent every night in the backroom at Babylon, which I understand is the castle of your kingdom of Liberty Avenue. I even got blown on the dance floor a couple of times. Nobody seemed to miss you. Maybe you should have let me go down to Mexico with you, so I couldn't have had the chance to play in your castle while you were away. I'm the new guy in town and everybody wants me. You're old news, Kinney, and its high time you admit it and hand over the crown to me."

I was afraid of this day coming, when a new, younger guy would come along and dethrone me. I didn't think it would happen so soon at my ripe old age of thirty, but here it is. Funny thing, but I didn't really care that much and I doubted that I would mourn for very long, especially since there was a certain blonde out there who could help me get through it.

I stared at him a little while longer before bending over to pick up his jeans off the floor. "Put your pants on," I said as I threw them at him.

"Huh?"

"I said, put your pants on," I repeated. "And get out."

"Whatever you say- you're the winner," he said before scooting down to the foot of the bed and pulling his pants back on.

I felt a new respect for Brandon as I watched him finish getting dressed. I almost expected him to taunt me after turning him down like I did, but despite his warnings that the sand in my hourglass was running out and that he was actively vying for my title as the Stud of Liberty Avenue, I could tell that he had respect for me, too. I could almost imagine me and Brandon being friends one day, since sex was no longer an issue between us. I had absolutely no desire to fuck him and there was no way in hell he was ever going to fuck me.

My ass belonged to only one man.

After Brandon was gone, I threw on my black leather Gucci ankle boots and Boss jacket before taking the stairs two at a time out to the street. I pointed the Jeep toward Justin's loft and got there in less than three minutes.

His second-floor loft was only accessible by a rusted metal staircase bolted to the outside of the building. There was a doorbell next to the door, so I pressed it.

Justin opened the door a few moments later and scowled at me. "What the fuck do you want?"

I answered by grabbing him by the back of his head with both hands and crushing my lips on his. I pushed him into his loft and kicked the door closed behind me.

His mouth tasted like chocolate ice cream.

He let me kiss him for several more seconds, with him returning the kiss heartily, before he pushed me away. "What the fuck, Brian? You tell me all of two hours ago that I mean nothing to you, and now you're here practically eating my face?"

"It's such a gorgeous face, Sunshine, I can't help but want to taste it," I said, nearly laughing at how fucking cheesy I sounded.

He was the only man I wanted to taste.

He rolled his eyes. "I have no time for your games, Mr. Kinney."

"I'm through playing games. I'm sorry I was such an asshole to you earlier," I said as I reached out to cup his erection through his blue flannel pajama pants. "I want to be with you."

I glanced down and noticed that he was wearing a black t-shirt with Stewie fromFamily Guy on it. I would expect nothing less from my cartoon-obsessed boy.

"What made you suddenly change your mind?" he asked.

I ran my fingers along his cotton-covered shaft. "I realized that I have no interest in fucking anyone else and it's all your fault. You've ruined me for other men."

He whimpered at the attention I was giving his cock. "Well, tell whoever he is that made you come to this startling realization ‘thank you' for me."

"I'll be sure to tell him, but later. Take me to bed and make love to me, Mr. Taylor," I said as I looked down into his beautiful blue eyes.

He gave me a smile that lit up the room. "Yes, sir, Mr. Kinney."

~The End~