A Forest of Corpses (30 page)

Dianne was the most welcome one. Thanksgiving was next week and my whole family would be in town. The prospect scared me as much as it excited me. It would be the first time my father and Alex met. It was the first time my father would come face to face with who his son really was.

It had been Dianne's doing. She had initiated this dinner.

Alex had been all for it, which surprised me at the time. But like he told me earlier today over breakfast, "I want to know your family. I don't have one. Besides," he said softly, brushing the hair off my face, "I know how much you've missed them."

I swelled with pride when I thought of his words.

Sometimes I think Alex knows me better than I know myself.

It didn't make me any less nervous, but it did make me love him all the more.

This weekend though, a late November day that had started out hot, but mellowed at the end into a beautiful evening, was for my sister. Next week we would all get together, a real family for the first time in years.

I cooked up a sumptuous roast pork dinner with garlic mashed potatoes and green beans. Alex had worked hard to turn me into a gourmet cook. Me, who barely boiled water 287

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before I met him. Now I had a chance to show off my new skills to someone besides my appreciative lover.

Dianne came bearing gifts and a multitude of stories from her world travels. An exquisite crystal Limoges from Italy, and a striking red and yellow
Phalaenopsis
orchid my father, who had recently taken up cultivating the exotic plants, sent from Petaluma—Dianne was very careful to pronounce the species name correctly. Dad would bite both our heads off if we got
that
wrong. I had arranged everything as a centerpiece, throwing in a trio of tapered yellow candles to match the flowers that cast a soft glow over our table.

We had a pleasant dinner, which Dianne praised so effusively I blushed and couldn't meet anyone's eyes. Alex lifted my chin and smiled.

"Hey, she's right, you know," he said. "You're an incredible cook. If you ever want to open your own restaurant, I'll back you. Even if the science world would lose a brilliant mind."

Now he really had me flushing hot. To cover my embarrassment I took a gulp of wine, then choked until Alex pounded on my back and I hiccupped into silence.

"Thanks," I managed.

"Let's finish dinner." Alex refilled my wine glass. "Dessert awaits."

Since I knew I hadn't made any dessert, on his orders, I was puzzled. Then Alex left the table and returned with our absinthe. I was more than a little surprised—the absinthe ritual was one we normally reserved for private moments, but he left the room with a smile and wink towards me and returned moments later with the tools—spoon, bowl of sugar 288

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cubes and the ice water. As always I performed the louching—pouring the icy water over the absinthe and sugar cube in the small crystal glass, turning the clear, thick liqueur milky. I handed the first glass to Dianne who eyed it apprehensively before sipping it. When she made a face, we both laughed. I remembered my first encounter with the stuff.

"It's the wormwood that's so bitter," I said. "But it's worth it."

"You say so." She didn't sound convinced. She flipped her shoulder-length flame-colored hair, that I have always envied, off her forehead. Gamely she finished the shot. I served Alex next. Finally I poured my own. Our eyes met as I poured the concoction down my throat, waiting for the warmth to spread, knowing what was going to follow, though we'd have to wait for Dianne to leave. Already my body hardened in anticipation, my cock pressing against my linen pants. I remembered other times when he poured the liquid over my body and lapped it up, leaving me helplessly writhing in my restraints until he would finally bring me to climax in his mouth. The familiar jolt of desire that happened whenever I'm in the same room as Alex swept through me. I only had to smell him and I grew aroused. Even after the months we'd been together. I'm thankful the tablecloth concealed my erection. I'd really be flushing if my sister got an eyeful of that.

Finally, after coffee and more small talk about her latest adventures in Nepal, India and Sri Lanka where she worked on setting up micro-loans for small business ventures, she 289

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took her leave. We knew we'd be together soon. I was still a little apprehensive and giddy about the prospect of my father meeting Alex next week. What if Dad didn't like him? What if Alex didn't like Dad? She must have seen that.

I followed her to the front door and we hugged. She whispered for my ears only, "I like your man, little brother.

So will Dad. Trust me. Be good to him."

"I will."

Alex slipped his arm around me and we stood in the opened doorway, listening to the night music from the fields around our tiny bungalow below Los Padres National Forest.

Spread out below us, the lights of Goleta glittered in the late November night. I smiled at her, then looked up at him, knowing my adoration would be all over my face. I used to hide it from the world a long time ago. Not anymore. It had taken him longer, but he was no longer a cool stranger when others were around. The look on his face was so full of wonder it made my knees weak. Nearly losing each other had taught us that our time together was something to be savored, enjoyed and explored whenever possible. "I will," I said again, as much for him as for my sister.

Buddy, the shepherd, stepped between us. I let my hand drop to his head, rubbing his ears. Alex's hand moved over mine and we both stroked the dog. The dog we acknowledged helped keep both of us alive in our wilderness ordeal. Dianne, who knew the story well, knelt down and gave him a hug.

Then my sister left and I leaned back into Alex. We stood hip to groin in the doorway. His erection pressed into my pelvis. All around us the songs of the night cascaded over us.

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He tightened his grip on me. At my feet, a cricket chirped.

Then another and another filled the night with their music. I peered into the shadows thrown by the hall light but there was no sight of anything living. They remained hidden, singing to us. After my sister's BMW vanished around the curve on her way back to the freeway and home, I sidestepped Alex to go back into the house. Laughing, Alex captured my hand and dragged me inside. The dog followed, then at Alex's command went to his bed in the back of the house. Alex led me into the bathroom and on his orders I stripped. While he readied his razor I showered, cleaning every orifice in anticipation. He vibrated with tension while he removed what little hair covered me and I didn't need to look at his swollen crotch to know he was rock hard and ready for me.

After our return from Los Padres and his lengthy convalescence from his massive blood infection and the two harrowing surgeries that followed—where I enjoyed tending to him in more ways than one—Alex had grown serious about his fitness and embarked on a structured exercise program.

The results had been on the far side of incredible. He had gone beyond the sexy, virile man I had met over a year ago.

Along with an incredibly hot body he now had the stamina of a twenty-five-year-old. And the sex drive of an eighteen-year-old.

"She likes you, you know," I told him, my voice shaking from my rising desire. I discarded the towel I had used to dry myself, folding it neatly over the rack. Then I followed him into our bedroom and stood in front of him. My thick, red dick 291

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glistened with precum and jutted out of my hairless crotch.

My hands trembled when I reached for him.

"Does she?" He smiled, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand. I caught his thumb between my lips and sucked gently, never taking my eyes of his. His pupils widened. He sucked in air but managed to say, "What's not to like?"

He slipped on the ankle restraints, then bound my wrists to form an X in the middle of our bedroom and rose to meet my feverish gaze, pausing on the way to kiss the tip of my leaking, tattooed cock. I sighed and bucked my hips toward him.

"She doesn't know what you do to me in here when we're alone."

He stroked my cheek again before slipping the gauzy blindfold over my face.

"Probably a good thing, don't you think?"

The darkness that fell wasn't total. I saw a film of red through the diaphanous material covering my eyes. He moved behind me, his hands stroking my hips, fingers feathering over my shivering skin. His breath was heat and flameless fire on the back of my neck.

"A very good thing," he whispered. "She might not understand." Then he was gone again. I was always so preternaturally attuned to him, I heard him in the other room, then in the kitchen. Finally he was back. The anticipation sent desire pulsing through every nerve in my body, all culminating in the base of my dick, which throbbed in mounting anticipation.

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The hand that stroked my flank was oiled and scented. He dipped his thumb into my mouth. I tasted honey and mint.

His lips brushed my ear lobe, electricity jolted into my dick.

He repeated the gesture; I moaned.

"I made this for you," he said.

"What is it?" I gently sucked his thumb, hearing his sharp intake of breath. What flashed between us was pure electric lust.

"Oil and honey." He licked my throat, the rough heat sent bolts of raw need straight into my cock. His oil covered fist wrapped around me and his mouth worked my throat, lips and tongue and teeth, tasting me, growling his need. "And some of your garden mint."

Sudden sharp pain in my nipples, the weights he clamped on pulled them down. I groaned behind the gauzy mask, thrusting my hips out in blind need. I whimpered. His response was to jerk on the chains attached to my nipples.

His warm breath, redolent of the honey and mint he had covered me with, caressed me.

A delicate dance of slick, liquid heat poured down my spine and over my hips through every nerve in my body. His lips traced a path down over the curve of my ass, stiff fingers slid between my cheeks, parting them. He crouched behind me. I shivered and whispered his name, "Alex."

His stiff tongue dipped into my crack, digging open my hole. I moaned again. The scarf doesn't blind me, instead it lent a rosy glow to everything. I couldn't see him; he knelt behind me, but I was all too aware of him, his smell, his presence that ruled my life so completely. His fingers 293

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feathered over my skin, pinning me in place with the lightest of touches, barely touching me at all. I twisted in my bonds, legs and arms extended in an X, forced to balance on my toes. I threw my head back, shouted and arched my spine, wanting more than his tongue in my ass. He must have felt my need. My entire body shivered with it.

His tongue delved deeper. My dick thrust out of my newly shaved pubes, but he refused to touch me. I needed him to touch me. Writhing helplessly, I sought a release he wouldn't give me.

Darkness embraced my world. Smells I would normally never have noticed enticed and aroused me with their promise. The animal smell of his musky need, the oil he used to coat my hairless body, the spicy, familiar aftershave that made me ache, my own desire, rich and pungent, like fresh blood. My hoarse breathing roared in my ears, his breathing was more controlled, he hadn't yet reached his peak and I was damn close.

I groaned when the twisted strands of his suede flogger lightly brushed my straining dick, the sharper lash when he stroked my back and butt with it, sending the ends singing across my flesh. I could hear the plink, plink of water in the shower. I swear I could hear the heartbeats of the doves that nested in the eaves outside our bedroom. The sharp creak of the leather bonds that held my wrists over my head, the crackle of the soft padding under my toes. All musical interludes to the sounds of his presence.

He circled me, the whisper of air marking his passage in the darkness. A match hissed and the rich stench of sulfur 294

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filled my nostrils, followed by the odor of hot wax. I shivered in anticipation as he moved closer, his leather boots thudding on the soft matting that he had rolled out to cover our bedroom floor. I strained to turn toward the sound, but he kept circling, touching me lightly with the butt of his flogger, his fingertips, his knuckles and finally the hot splash of body wax on my chest. I hissed and arched toward the source of the heat and pain, the electric charge of pure desire that erupted from the base of my dick embedding itself in my spine.

"Alex," I moaned. He leaned over me, his voice purring as he whispered. His breath warmed my ear.

"You will know such pain," he said. "Such infinite pleasure.

All from me. Only from me."

He tugged at my leashed collar that he had slipped on after the shower. I rocked forward, stopped only by the leather restraints around my arms and the strap around my throat. I tugged at them, testing them. Wanting to get closer to him. The whistle of the suede flogger came seconds before the first lash struck my back. I writhed, crying out at the sharp burst of pain. He stroked me with brilliant flashes of pain that quickly became raw pleasure embedded in my cock.

The heat in my back flared, spreading and encompassing me.

Finally denim rustled. He adjusted the restraints, lowering me until I knelt in front of him. A metal zipper slid down and the musky tip of his cock slid past my open lips. Without touching me with any other part of his body he thrust into me, burying himself down my throat, rocking into me until his balls brushed my chin. I swirled his thick staff with my 295

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tongue, nibbled on his fat head and licked his piss slit clean of spunk. I tasted his precum and the hot odors from his groin.