Authors: Lynn Kelling
“
Please!
” he wails, begging without even knowing what he’s begging
for.
“Please what?”
Four fingers jab up into him and he shouts hoarsely.
“P-please,
sir
.”
“That’s better. Manners count,” Gabriel smiles up at him. He hears Darrek murmur something insulting under his breath. Laughing, but pulling his fingers free, Gabriel says, “Turn around and sit the fuck down on my dick, slave. We’re not done yet.”
Darrek pivots, straddling his Master with his back to him.
Gripping the base of his shaft to steady it, Gabriel guides Darrek down slowly. When they are fitted snugly together once more in the new position, Darrek tries to start moving again, but Gabriel forbids it, holds him down with hands clawing Darrek’s upper thighs.
“Nope. Just sit there. Wanna feel you.”
Gabriel guides Darrek’s thighs even farther apart. He slides his right hand upward, toward Darrek’s crotch, over the soft hair covering the inside of Darrek’s right leg until it cups his balls. At first, he fondles them gently, listening to Darrek grunt and fight not to move. But as the hand squeezes tighter and tighter around him, it gets painful, moves
beyond
painful, and Darrek’s feet slide out from under him. He curls forward, chin tucked to his chest, stomach muscles contracted, and hard as steel. He succeeds at first at not making a sound of protest, and breathes in hisses through clenched teeth. Gabriel twists his hand and a sharp cry rips from Darrek’s chest, but he stays still, shaking and sweating.
“Good,” Gabriel whispers, “Very good. You’re so good for me.”
He kisses the side of Darrek’s neck and tugs at the soft flesh enclosed in his fist.
“
Ahhh!
Ah-ha-ah...” Darrek cries, mouth wide, fallen open.
Releasing him finally, Gabriel strokes the pad of his thumb up the ridges of the cock cage and says, “Fuck me. Hard as you want.”
Darrek groans, his back, dripping with sweat, slides up against Gabriel’s bare chest as he pulls up and then eases back down. He speeds up, legs still aching terribly, feeling Gabriel’s hands on his ass, guiding him faster, thrusting up into him, skin slapping against skin with almost brutal force every time Darrek brings his weight down.
Gabriel comes with a jagged moan and a shudder, pinning Darrek down hard to his lap with an arm slung tightly around his pelvis.
“Damn,” he hisses, “I enjoyed the hell out of that.”
“Mnnn,” is the dizzy response from the man on his dick.
Stroking his hand up and down ridged abdominal muscles, over Darrek’s sweat-slicked skin, listening to him catch his breath, Gabriel tells him, “I’ll let you get a shower, but I have to tell you something first. Wanna make sure you’re okay with it.”
The serious, marginally less confident tone in Gabriel’s voice prompts Darrek to attempt to focus his thoughts more on what he’s saying, sensing that it’s important.
“Yeah. Okay, what is it?” he grunts.
“We’re training Micah today since we have a light schedule, only one client coming in for Trace.”
“Well, you’ve been training him for a while now, right?”
“Yeah. But we’ve been having him practice on Kyle. It’s been convenient, for obvious reasons. He drives in with Ben and knows his stuff well enough that we don’t have to worry about him. But...” Gabriel says, trailing off, letting Darrek finish the thought.
“But Kyle’s going to be busy working today, with me and our crew downtown.”
“Give the man a prize,” Gabriel grins. He takes a long pause before saying, “So, I’m going to let Micah practice on me instead.”
Darrek tenses noticeably and actually stops breathing for a second or two.
“But look, it’s just technique and positioning. He’s not going to be touching me in a sexual way or stimulating me. It’s a class. And if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll set up one of the cameras and send you the link to the feed. I won’t broadcast it to the website. I’ll keep it on the secure server and give you the access code. Okay? So you can watch the whole thing if you want to. But if you aren’t okay with it, I’ll call it off. We’ll reschedule for a time when Kyle can be there.”
“Why can’t someone else do it?” Darrek asks quietly.
“Ben was his Dom,” Gabriel explains. “We can’t expect him to be able to do this stuff to Ben. And Trace will be with a client. No one else is working today.”
“I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.”
“Okay then. I’ll give the office a call and....”
“But I trust you, Gabe,” Darrek interrupts. “I trust you completely. If you need to do this for work, then do it. I know it’s for your job, and not for... whatever. Pleasure, I guess. So do it. I’m okay with it.”
“Thank you,” Gabriel says, kissing Darrek’s shoulder. “Hey, Ben was going to give me a ride in to the office, but I’ll probably be there later than him. Could you pick me up after work?”
“I would love to pick you up after work,” Darrek grins, weaving their fingers together and kissing the side of Gabriel’s hand.
When Gabriel and Ben arrive at the office together an hour or so later, Ben goes to finish some work on billing, and make some calls before he has to assist in Trace’s session. He disappears into the file and records room with a mug of coffee brought from home. The beverage, Ben told Gabriel very reluctantly during their drive, was made for Ben by Kyle, which of course brings much amusement to Gabriel who goes on to praise Ben’s thoughtful, culinary-gifted domestic partner. This leaves Gabriel to go in search of his own coffee, walking through the hallways to the rooms in the rear of the building, one of which is the kitchenette, home of the coffee pot. Discovering once he gets there that a pot has conveniently been brewed and is still hot, he pours a cup, adds some creamer and sits at the table to skim the morning paper.
A loud smack and a thump from one of the recovery rooms in his line of sight causes him to look up. Through the doorway he sees Micah, who is both shorter and slighter than Gabriel, being manhandled against a far wall. The lamps in the room are turned off but a shaft of morning sun lights the contours of his face, highlighting his exotic eyes, and shining on his raven-black hair. Trace is at Micah’s back, holding him to the wall with a forearm braced cross-wise against his shoulder blades and a hand twisting one of Micah’s arms behind him. Gabriel can barely make out the gruff murmuring of Trace’s voice as he speaks quietly but forcefully to the other man.
Body tensing momentarily, Gabriel wonders if he needs to intervene and tries to figure out what in the world is going on, especially at the pained expression seen on Micah’s face when he turns to glance over his shoulder. Gabriel stands and steps forward, coffee forgotten.
Trace releases Micah, growling out something that sounds like an order he would give one of his submissives. Astonished, Gabriel watches as Micah bends himself over a table, holding on to it, and Trace, behind him, pulls out his dick.
Gabriel watches avidly as Trace proceeds to force down Micah’s pants and fucks him. The scene doesn’t shock him. It does
surprise
him, only because he has never seen Trace and Micah do more than interact professionally together, with no prior hints that there was anything sexual between them. The commonness of seeing people fooling around or being dominated at Diadem—employees, clients, or otherwise—is the reason why Gabriel does not avert his eyes, or go back to his coffee. Instead, he keeps walking forward until he’s standing in the doorway to the room with Micah’s green eyes staring daggers into him.
Gabriel folds his arms over his chest and watches, impassive.
“Gabey,” Trace croons, “see how good this little bitch is for me? Just bends his ass right over for fuckin’.”
The room smells of sex. Their bodies slap together. Micah, his teeth bared in a grimace of discomfort, grunts roughly at the force of Trace’s ruts into him.
Gabriel wonders whether this is all Trace, if it’s just him being the way he is, finding a pretty young man to screw around with, mentally and physically. His question is answered when Micah grips the edge of the wooden table for leverage, locks eyes with Gabriel and starts to push back onto Trace. Stilling, Trace lets Micah fuck himself back on his cock, laughing merrily through his moans as Micah stares at Gabriel in a way that somehow manages to get
Gabriel
blushing.
“Come suck on me with those pretty lips,” Micah says, low and demanding, to Gabriel.
Trace laughs with renewed vigor and slams Micah against the table, pinning him to it, wrenching both arms behind his back and taking back control as he pounds into the captive man.
“He won’t do it,” Trace whispers loudly in Micah’s ear, both of them looking at Gabriel now. “The husband wouldn’t like it, you see. Heard Darrek’s
real
possessive of him. So, you?” Trace pulls out and holds his dick by the root before plunging it completely into Micah, getting a soft, startled whimper from him. “You get to play with
me
. Ain’t you lucky?”
“You guys are twisted fucks,” Gabriel laughs.
He turns and leaves them, Trace’s gravelly laugh ringing in his ears. Grabbing up his coffee, he heads outside to finish it in the fresh air. He wants to enjoy the gorgeous morning while he can before hiding himself away in the office to dive into his work on the company’s website.
Gabriel spends a few hours in the office, editing and then posting two new videos. When lunchtime rolls around, he orders a steak sandwich from the closest deli. The food is delivered shortly thereafter, and Gabriel returns to his outside seat at the picnic table to eat. Checking his phone messages, and sending one to Darrek, he doesn’t hear Micah approach until he sits down across from Gabriel with a can of soda.
“Hey,” he grins over at Gabriel. “Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.”
Tucking his phone away, Gabriel goes back to his sandwich.
“Texting the husband?” Micah asks.
“Hmm? Oh, we’re not really married. Trace is just a dick. As you’ve discovered.”
“Indeed. But it’s serious, right? With Darrek?” he asks over his drink with keen, sincere eyes.
“Yeah. It’s pretty serious. Who knows, maybe one day we’ll get hitched in a big gay ceremony,” Gabriel grins. Then he chuckles to himself with amusement at the thought and the images it stirs in his mind. “How about you? Guess you’re unattached, since....”
“Oh, I’m attached. Married for going on ten years now,” Micah says easily, taking a drink.
Gabriel blinks at him.
“I’m not kidding,” Micah assures him.
“Damn. Okay. Well... congratulations?” he says uncertainly.
“We have an open marriage,” he explains, helpfully. “My wife likes to watch or get involved when I take a lover. She hasn’t met Trace yet, but she’s okay with it since we work together and I know him pretty well by now.”
Gabriel sets down his sandwich and simply squints over at Micah with utter befuddlement.
“Dude... I don’t even know what to say to that. You have a
wife
?”
“Mm-hmm,” Micah nods. “I’ll have to introduce you. Her name’s Lily.”
Quirking his head to the side, Gabriel shrugs and drinks some of his own soda.
“Takes all kinds I guess,” he allows. “Not like I’m really one to judge. It’s cool that you’ve worked it out with her. Must be an amazing woman.”
“She is. I’m a lucky man.”
Ben appears and sits down heavily on the bench beside Micah saying, “What are we discussing?”
“He’s
married
,” Gabriel says, pointing helpfully to his lunch companion.
“Mm-hmm,” Ben nods, unsurprised.
“To a
woman
.”
Micah smiles behind his soda, eyes bright with delight.
“And this shocks you?” Ben frowns, with mock-concern.
“Yes! Have you
met
Micah?”
“Only
here
, at our superbly unique place of employment, would someone be shocked by a heterosexual marriage. We live in strange, sad times,” Ben sighs, shaking his head and playing with the keys to Kyle’s collar and cock cage strung around his neck.
Gabriel frowns, throwing a piece of his sandwich at Ben.
“He’s shocked because this morning he watched Trace fuck me in the south-facing recovery room. The one with the blue flowers on the wallpaper?”