Michael

[DonQuixote]

Who said he's Lefty O'Toole, Nobody's Fool?

 

[Lefty]

Sure and that would be me twin cousin in the olde country

 

[swerve]

Chapter 5

Detective Jonathon Kratz did not like people. He neither liked them in the general sense nor all the way down to the singular level of the individual. He had three years left on the force before he qualified for the full retirement package and was longing for the day when he could move out to the great expansive nothingness of Wyoming to live his remaining years in relative peace.

He rubbed his temples, as he continued to wait for the new detective in training to arrive for his first day. Two weeks ago, the Police Chief had called him to his office to discuss the promotion of Frank Montgomery. The Chief explained what Jonathon already knew. Frank's father, Cecil, carried a lot of political clout in the city and though the department had wanted to terminate Frank altogether, word had come down through the mayor’s office that they needed to promote him instead. Jonathon didn’t allow the gossip of ineptitude and recklessness surrounding Frank to enter into his judgment. He would train him well and Frank would either succeed or fail on his own.

He removed his hands from his temples and went back to drawing geometrical shapes onto the pad that lay on the center of his desk. Afternoon sunlight poured in through the westward facing window and reflected off his wedding ring. At the age of 59, Jonathon was a widower. He had been widowed for most of his life. His mind traveled back to the age of 22 when he married his bride, Beth, in a quiet ceremony at their synagogue in Eugene. Back then he was working for the Lane County Sheriff’s Department as a deputy. They had spent their wedding night in Portland, and then the following morning boarded a plane for an all-inclusive stay at a couples resort in Negril, Jamaica. Since both Beth and himself had remained celibate up until their vows, the sex had been awkward and clumsy. But the sun, sand, and surf combined with unlimited amounts of food and alcohol more than made up for those shortcomings. Their fourth full day of marriage had begun with the amateur amore in the bedroom; a full breakfast that lasted into lunch and then the drinking began. They had ended the afternoon at the cliffs by Rick’s Café watching riskier and less weight laden visitors leap from the cliffs and plunge into the waters below. After a picture perfect sunset, they climbed aboard the courtesy bus and made their way back to the room. Jonathon fuzzily remembered once again making love to his wife before rolling over and passing out somewhere around nine that night. Much more vividly he remembers waking up at four the next morning in urgent need of the restroom. When he returned to the bed he snuggled up next his new wife, only to find her somewhat cold. He very quickly determined that she was no longer breathing.

There was no suicide note or any indications that Beth had been suicidal. The death was ruled an accidental overdose of sleeping pills. Over the years Jonathon had done further research to discover that based upon Beth’s body mass, she would have needed to take approximately twelve pills to have that concentration of drugs in her body at the time of death. He had spent countless hours researching every possibility, regardless of its plausibility, and always came up without answers. It was very difficult for him to believe that she had committed suicide and even more difficult to believe that anyone could take twelve pills by accident. To this day he remained baffled by her death and felt completely inadequate to be a husband. Back at his apartment he still maintained a round table in the corner of his living room as a shrine with photographs of their short time together and the original pill bottle with the original remaining seventeen pills. Macabre by anyone else’s standards, he was certain; but he really didn’t care what others thought, nor did he entertain.

Frank Montgomery finally arrived thirty-eight minutes after the hour. He was very debonairly dressed in a dark navy blue suit, light blue shirt and maroon and yellow tie. After a brief greeting and as soon as he was settled into the chair Jonathon began.

“Where are the doughnuts?” he asked while spreading his arms and in an expectant manner.

“Um, what do you mean?” Frank responded with uncertainty and confusion.

“It’s always the junior detective’s job to bring the doughnuts,” Jonathon explained. Then continued, “Don’t worry, you’ll get reimbursed from petty cash as long as you get a receipt.”

“Well, sir, I don’t eat doughnuts,” Frank stammered.

“What do you eat with your coffee?” Jonathon inquired.

“Sir, I rarely drink coffee either,” Frank answered with growing confidence.

Jonathon, in an exaggerated gesture, hefted his large frame from his chair and turned to where he could look out above the cubicles and address his fellow detectives and support staff. In a very derisive tone and loud deep voice declared, “Well, I never. Ladies and gentlemen, I have just been informed that our newest recruit neither drinks coffee nor eats doughnuts!” As the office began to murmur and chuckle, Jonathon, very quickly for his size, turned back around and thudded into his chair. He raised his right arm and with considerable force smashed his right fist down onto the pad at the center of his desk. “I don’t give a good god damned if you don’t care for doughnuts,” he bellowed. “It’s still your job as junior detective to bring them for the rest of us that do! If you had asked anyone even one question about your new job, you would have known this de-tec-tive.” Spitting out the last word as if it contained a foul flavor. “You have fifteen minutes to get back here with the doughnuts and since you were already late, I’m docking you for your first full hour,” he finished, as Frank quickly left the cubicle and scurried out of the room.

It was always important to break the balls of a new recruit Jonathon had mused as he began to chuckle. Frank had just made this a little easier than normal. His phone began to ring and as he answered the call informing him of a murder at the City Lights Motel, he immediately regretted his actions.

It wasn’t ideal to involve a junior detective in a murder investigation on his very first day, but it would’ve happened sooner or later. He would limit Frank’s involvement to ‘observer’ and then discuss the case in detail with him once it was solved.

He jotted down what little information was provided and impatiently awaited Frank’s return.

Frank had no idea where people went to buy doughnuts other than Voodoo Doughnuts, which was located around the corner on SW 2nd Street. The only reason he knew of Voodoo Doughnuts was because every year they held a competition called Cockfest where men would compete to see who could hold the most doughnuts on their erect cocks. He had always been envious of the employees that were allowed to judge the contest. The problem with Voodoo Doughnuts was that they always had a line reaching around the corner and at least halfway down the block. There was no way he could go there, wait in line, and be back in fifteen minutes. So, he unknowingly passed Dunkin’ Doughnuts and Krispy Kreme as he sped up Burnside to the Fred Meyer’s grocery store. He literally ran into the bakery section and asked the elderly lady behind the glass counter for a dozen doughnuts. The lady informed him that they did not sell fresh baked doughnuts in the afternoon, but he could find doughnuts on aisle fifteen with the cookies and crackers. The doughnuts on aisle fifteen were small and packaged in bags. Being unsure how many were needed, Frank grabbed four bags and impatiently stood in line for checkout. By the time he returned to the Police Bureau, the task had taken him a total of thirty-five minutes.

Jonathon was quite agitated when Frank finally did return. He quickly assessed the four bags of Hostess Doughnuts and immediately threw them in the trash declaring them to be inedible. He then grabbed Frank by the arm and hustled him back down to the parking lot and headed out towards the City Lights Motel.

“We’re going to assess the scene,” Jonathon began. “Every crime scene contains clues and evidence, so it is important that we avoid disturbing the scene as much as possible prior to the technicians coming in and doing their job. It is also important that we view the scene without bias, as to not jump to any preconceived notions. Let the evidence lead us,” he finished.

He glanced over at Frank and could tell that he was still fuming. “Listen,” Jonathon continued. “Don’t sweat the doughnuts. I was just trying to break your balls and lighten the mood. Right now we need to be completely focused on solving this crime. We’ll be spending a lot of time together over the next several days.”

“I’m not your lackey,” Frank responded in a shaky voice. “Nor do I allow people to treat me as one.”

Good, Jonathon thought. The kid actually has some balls. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. He had already determined that Frank was insecure and even though Jonathon didn’t like people, he was very good at reading them. The fact that Frank had overcome his insecurity to spit that statement out was encouraging. Who knew what it must’ve been like to grow up in the Montgomery family, Jonathon mused. Cecil Montgomery had a reputation as a brutal power player in Portland and although Jonathon wasn’t directly involved, there remained unanswered questions within the department surrounding the death of Cecil’s first wife who was also Frank’s mother.

The parking lot of the City Lights Motel was busier than it had ever been over the last several decades. Police vehicles were everywhere and room twenty-seven, including the immediate surrounding area, was sealed off with police crime scene tape. Jonathon exited the vehicle, nodded to one of the officers and headed off to speak with the patrol supervisor who had first responded to the call.

After a brief conversation, he turned to Frank and handed him a pair of latex gloves and paper booties. “Put these on,” he instructed. “The victim is on the bed with a knife in his back. There are no noticeable signs of forced entry. The knife, the body, and the room are going to give us the evidence we need to find the butcher. If you feel like you are going to be sick, please step outside.”

Frank was in a state of shock. He was standing at the entrance to the very room Michael had used with the whore earlier that morning. He awkwardly put the booties on over his shoes and with even more difficulty maneuvered the gloves finger by finger onto his hands.

He followed Jonathon into the room and his eyes immediately locked onto the most amazing ass he had ever seen. He felt a slight movement in his trousers as he jealously thought of Michael having fun with that ass earlier in the day. He felt as if he were in an alternate reality as he watched Jonathon circle the body inspecting it from many angles and then realized that he could also approach the body and check out the cock that was certainly hanging in front of those nicely shaped balls.

“I would say the time of death was approximately seven to nine hours ago, based on hypostasis and rigor mortis,” Jonathon declared. He further explained that hypostasis is the amount of blood pooling in the lower parts of the body and that rigor mortis starts approximately two hours after death in the smaller muscles and gradually progresses. “Of course, the ME will be able to give us a more precise time,” Jonathan concluded.

“It couldn’t have been more than seven hours,” Frank blurted in an attempt to be helpful.

“Why do you say that?” Jonathon queried with an amused and truly baffled expression.

“Well,” Frank began. He knew that Michael was here fucking the lucky shit at that time, but he also recognized that he was tired from only having a few hours of restless sleep earlier that day. “Certainly no one could be dead that long before it was called in,” he finished with uncertainty in his voice. At the same time, he was beginning to develop a plan in his mind. This just might be the ticket for him to finally meet Michael. Michael was probably one of the last people to have seen the whore alive. As a material witness, Frank could possibly seduce him under the pretence of an ‘interview.’

“I’ve been doing this a long time Frank,” Jonathon continued. “But we’ll know for sure by tomorrow morning after the ME examines the body.”

Frank worked up his nerve and approached the body. He wondered if he was allowed to touch the body as Jonathon had carefully done. He tentatively reached his hand up to the left buttock and leaned over to try and catch a glimpse of the whore’s cock. Jonathon grabbed his wrist prior to making contact and he was sternly reminded that his job was that of an observer only.

Frank stood up and could feel his face redden. “Sorry,” he stammered as he tried to regain his composure. “I was just trying to see what you meant by blood pools and rigor mortis.”

“Not a problem,” Jonathon replied. “I’ll be happy to demonstrate that in detail tomorrow at the ME’s office after they’ve completed their exam. For now, lets look at the knife.”

Frank meekly followed Jonathon over to the other side of the body and stared at the knife still stuck in the whore’s back. He was shocked at the lack of blood. It was then that his eyes fell to the face, or lack thereof. There was blood, bone, a partial eye and broken teeth. The nausea came faster than he would have thought possible and he didn’t quite make it out of the motel room before he started spewing the remains of his breakfast. He finished vomiting while kneeling over a small bush in front of the sidewalk that wound its way around the motel.

Jonathon was elated that Frank had lost it. He had noticed the fascination; including what he thought might be the start of an erection as Frank had ogled over the victim. Jonathon was beginning to be somewhat concerned. Well, at least he’s human, Jonathon thought.

Frank was beyond embarrassed. He had spent hours and hours perusing photos of dead bodies on the Internet knowing that at some point he would need to actually see one. And yet, he still couldn’t hold it together. Even worse, he didn’t want to go back into that room. The mental image of what he had just seen came back and he began to heave again; although, this time, there wasn’t much left in his acidic stomach to come out.

Jonathon eventually came out of the room and instructed Frank to wait in the car while he spoke with the crime scene investigators.

“I’ve initiated a 360 photo of the room,” Jonathon began to babble when he returned to the car 45 minutes later. “Fingerprinting, vacuuming for other evidence, patrols canvassing the neighborhood, videotapes from nearby businesses, blah, blah blah.” Frank heard.

“Well, we know three things for certain.” Frank declared. “First thing is the ‘victim’ is a whore. Second, the killer is a man. And thirdly, he is a ‘fag’,” using his fingers to form quotation marks for the words victim and fag. Frank cringed slightly at using the word fag, but he desperately wanted to fit in amongst his peers at the PPD and thought that this was the best approach.

“I’m inclined to agree with you,” Jonathon responded. “Although, we cannot use the word certain until we’re actually positively certain. There was a small amount of heroin found in the room with the usual paraphernalia, which could indicate a drug motivation and there is no sign of the victim’s wallet that could indicate robbery. Also,” he continued while turning to give Frank a piercing and penetrating gaze directly into his soul, “the Portland Police Department doesn’t condone using the word ‘fag’ when speaking of members in our gay community. Personally, I find the word offensive and I don’t ever want to hear you use it in my presence again.”

Frank flinched, and Jonathon thought ‘check’. His perceptive qualities were still up to par. Other people’s sexuality had never bothered Jonathon and quite honestly, he could care less about the use of the word and had probably used it himself on occasion. They had to be called something, he reasoned.

“The sketch artist will have us a rendering of the victim within the hour,” he explained to Frank. “Right now you and I will interview the manager and staff of the motel. Then I’ll need you to have the PR department put together a release for the media and let me review it for final approval. Then we’ll meet with vice to try and find out who the victim was, who his johns are, and who he associates with. It’s going to be a long night and tomorrow will even be longer, but we’ll nail the bastard who did this. I guarantee it.”

The manager of the motel was a total creep. He claimed to have no idea who had been in room twenty-seven and that it had been vacant for several weeks. The housekeeper who discovered the body did not speak English and wouldn’t be available until the following day as she had become overwrought with anxiety and was now resting with the assistance of medication.

Normally Jonathon would have persuaded the manager to be completely honest regardless of his cash deals; but, because the maid had freaked out to the point that she required medical attention, Jonathon decided to come back and interview them tomorrow.

Writing the press release had proved very challenging for Frank. After spending an hour and a half, he finally came up with his final version. It was difficult because he remembered that he couldn’t use anything that might be speculative.

“A young white male was found stabbed to death in the City Lights Motel this morning by the PPD. If you have any information pertaining to the identity of this man or circumstances surrounding his death, please contact Detective Frank Montgomery or Detective Jonathon Kratz in the Robbery Homicide division.”

When he presented the press release to Kratz, Jonathon had burst out in full laughter. “No!” he had exclaimed. “I didn’t mean for you to write the release.” He reached over his desk to a stack of trays and retrieved a form, which he tossed across the desk. “Simply fill out this form and turn it into PR. They’ll write the release and submit it back to us for approval. If we had had time for training prior to being called out, you would have known the procedure. Although,” Kratz admitted, “it’s not bad.”

The meeting with vice had been very interesting for Frank. Apparently, the vice squad’s budget had been slashed years ago when the mayor dictated to the police force the public’s desire to live in a less policed environment when it came to drugs and sex. Currently, the vice squad only dealt with underage prostitution and ‘hardcore’ drug suppliers. They did not know the identity of the victim and could only supply the known areas of gay street prostitution and thirteen specific addresses for male escorts that advertised over the Internet and in print publications. They had taken note of the heroin packaging; however, and said that they would get back to them with any information as soon as they could track down the source.

By ten that night Frank was exhausted. He had been handed a stack of forms filled out by the patrol officers who had done the canvassing throughout the immediate area and was beginning to doze off while trying to read the varied and cramped handwriting.

He awoke to a tap on his shoulder, quickly realizing that he had fallen asleep and that drool had formed onto the paperwork under his face. He slowly lifted his head and saw the cup of steaming coffee next to the chocolate laden Bavarian crème doughnut.

He took a sip of the coffee and a large bite from the doughnut. At that point he felt as if they were the best things he had ever tasted in his entire life.

 

[DonQuixote]

Swerve,
An interesting meeting between our nervous newby to the Detective Squad and the seasoned, lonely trainer.

Too bad our newby didn't have more integrity and give up the information he had - timing is everythiing, and the more time that goes by, the harder to catch the killer. Oh that he was a bit sharper and more dedicated.

You are continuing to craft a good, strong story.

 

[rocabar]

You made it! Thanks for the great instalment, swerve- I can hardly wait till the next one!

 

[Lefty]

Windsors, after seeing the cookies and Cuervo saved you from post 37, we are
relieved to see you posting.

I think it safe to ease your stress about pressuring the swerver tp "publish or perish'.

Posts 28,30 and 43 would probably be far guiltier. Especially #43 that makes
mention of the penalty for failure to produce...You think?...lol


Happy Holidays.

 

[Autolycus]

That episode had me on the edge of my seat! As an avid reader of American Crime Fiction, I am impressed!

Please continue a.s.a.p!

 

[EJMichaels]

I'm still not finished reading, but so far, it's great. For now, this is more of a thread bump than a review.

 

[Kyanimal]

More, please, Swerve!

Wishing You, and "O", a Very Happy New Year!

Keep smilin'!!
Chaz

 

[Lefty]

Rumour has it

The truck driving man is

hitting the road without us

for a Run of undetermined destination

or a DOR (date of return)

 

[swerve]

Chapter 6

Michael Hill savored the feeling of his white damask striped four hundred count pima cotton sheets as they silkily slid around the movements of his naked stretching body. Above the sheets was a box cut down comforter encased in an even more luxurious white cotton duvet cover embossed with just the slightest tingeing of gold emblematic tridents. Below the sheets was a king-sized Duxiana mattress and box spring set that created the perfect nest of comfort. The bed was encased with a maple headboard, rails, and footboard set at just the right height to bend over a young man and fuck the hell out of him. Or be bent over Michael thought as he giggled in his anticipation for the upcoming date with Tony.

He recalled in remarkable clear detail every move of the boy sluts fuck earlier that day and wanted to provide Tony with the same amazing encounter. He was hard as a rock, which wasn’t unusual for him when awakening. But his cock throbbed even harder while recalling the day’s earlier events at both the motel and then the gym. He stretched out with arms in full extension and yawned while enjoying the tune “Yellow” by Coldplay preset into his alarm sequence. He knew for a fact that everything wasn’t yellow. It was actually all shades of gray. His father had been telling him that ever since he had accidentally killed his best friend when he was thirteen. He supposed that it wasn’t really quite an accident, but if Ryan hadn’t of freaked out, it wouldn’t have happened. He had just worked up the nerve to fool around with Ryan, and convinced him to let his dick be orally serviced. Ryan had fairly quickly spent himself into Michael’s greedy yet amateur mouth leaving him with little more to do than lick his way up Ryan’s lithe frame, from the hard stomach to the taught nipples and then all the way up to his mouth. It was when his tongue had breeched Ryan’s chin and his lips prepared to meet the tenderness of Ryan’s when his best friend had shoved him back in an angry manner.

“I’m going to tell everyone at school that you’re a faggot!” Ryan had screamed. Michael had been horrified. He had stepped back, looked around, and then grabbed Ryan’s aluminum bat, much lighter and easier to wield than his own wooden Louisville Slugger, and pretended that Ryan’s face was a baseball. The first swing resulted in a resounding thwack with a really cool spray of blood as Ryan staggered back and fell. Michael instantly regained his erection and decided that since his best friend had already promised to betray him, he should indulge himself in what he had truly wanted, before finishing off the little fucker. He slid Ryan’s Abercrombie and Fitch shorts down to his ankles, and while his half conscious best friend continued to struggle and moan Michael lost his virginity.

He then very methodically picked up the bat and pummeled his noisy little friend, until the screams subsided into silence. He then stopped the consistent swinging and poked and tapped Ryan delighting in the occasional grunt or moan. After tiring of this, Michael concentrated on complete mutilation of Ryan’s genitals and then moved on to obliterate Ryan’s skull.

It had always been fun goose-stepping with Ryan earlier that same year pretending that they were German soldiers methodically stabbing toads with crudely sharpened tree branches they called frog sticks in an imaginary world where he was a Hitler instead of a Hill and the toads were actual Jews. But it was way more fun clubbing his pathetic little betrayers body into oblivion. He had only wished that he had held himself back a little in the beginning to allow his best friend to scream more.

That may have been the best day of his life Michael thought as he continued to stretch in luxurious comfort while trying to wake up. He remembered running back through the woods and into the service entrance to his home in total secrecy. Then removing his clothes and putting copious amounts of laundry detergent into the washing machine before pressing the ‘heavy wash’ button to begin the cycle. Naked, shivering, and still somewhat covered in blood, he was startled to find his father at the corner of the door’s entrance grinning at him.

That night, his father had helped him transport the bashed up remains of the body to the neighboring state of New Hampshire, planting it in a shallow grave about fifty miles southeast of Manchester near the town of Windham. The following week, Michael and his father, in a masterfully planned strategy, initiated coordinated massive manhunts through the South End area of Boston and promised to never quit until Ryan was found. Every night they had retired back to their home where Michael was regaled with stories of his father’s youth and transgressions. He became indoctrinated to believe that life was to be lived greedily and without societal boundaries.

The Hill family had moved to Boston two generations ago. He knew that his grandfather had prospered greatly during World War II having moved from Germany to Sweden then ultimately ending up in Boston. Over time, the reputation of the family went from speculative to well respected. He had always known that his father was a very powerful man.

As his thoughts transitioned to his early morning ‘art’, he heard the lyrics of “Imagine” by John Lennon stream throughout his sound system and realized that time was actually of the essence. “Imagine all the people, living for today. Ha- ha, haha, ha-ha” he heard as he chuckled and reached for the iPhone that rested in the docking station built into his nightstand.

Quickly realizing that he only had twelve minutes before Tony’s arrival and didn’t have his telephone number, he punched in the number for the gym. Ted answered on the first ring.

“Hi Ted,” Michael said in a much more awake voice than he felt. “I’m supposed to meet up with Tony tonight and I’m running late, I was wondering if you had his cell number?”

“I’m surprised you don’t have it,” Ted responded in a laconic tone. “Antonio’s number is 509-367-7399 and you’ll need the last nine.”

“OK, thanks,” Michael responded not quite sure of what was meant by that.

He quickly disconnected and texted “I’m running a little late and will be in the shower, come on in and make yourself comfortable” to the number supplied. He had never been good at text speak.

He placed the phone back into the nightstand and hit the “Mood Music” button to start the deep rhythmic beats of his favorite play list.

The music was loud and Michael sang in time with the multiple speakers positioned throughout his new home blaring out the music as he stood underneath the enormous showerhead that provided more of a rain than a shower. He raised his arms up into the downpour and couldn’t help but slightly dance. That was when he heard the front door open and knew that his date for the evening had arrived. He was thrilled that Tony was punctual as he turned off the shower, grabbed the towel and slowly made his way from the master bath into his bedroom. He was aware that with the door open to the bedroom, Tony could watch his every move through the well-positioned mirrors, so Michael dried himself off very slowly and thoroughly then moved the towel up to his face as he chuckled at the thought of what a tease he could be.

What happened next was not expected.

He felt the strong hands of Tony grasp his chest as Tony’s fully clothed hard body melded into his own naked backside. Michael literally felt every nerve-ending tingle as he was taken aback by the aggressiveness shown by his date. He was usually the one that made the moves, but the role reversal was quite welcome as he was planning on reliving this morning’s fun from the whore’s point of view to fully encapsulate the experience. Tony’s hands massaged his chest and abdomen briefly, and then his left hand moved to his chin and pulled his head back. All while his right hand moved down to stroke Michael’s growing meat. Tony nibbled on Michael’s ear and then throatily whispered into it, “I’ve been waiting for this moment since the first time I saw you.”

Michael was then spun around and stared into the dark eyes offset by the strikingly handsome classic Italian features of Tony’s face. He tried to take it all in while still retaining direct eye contact when Tony forcefully began to kiss him. The style was a little too aggressive for Michael, so he pushed him back just a touch and was pleasantly surprised at how well Tony adjusted. Michael closed his eyes enjoying the now sensual mouth-to-mouth action. It was also quite erotic to be the only one nude in this duo, he thought while beginning to grin and kiss at the same time. Tony backed away and gently pushed Michael back onto the bed. “Lets get you were you need to be,” he said with a chuckle.

Michael laid back and allowed Tony access to his fully naked body. Enjoying the tonguing and nibbling down his neck, chest, nipples and continued path down his abdomen. His cock was now fully erect and throbbing.

Tony’s mouth grabbed hold of the first several inches of his cock and settled there momentarily. The feeling was incredible. And then that hot mouth worked its way down and up while Michael lay in somewhat of a trance with his hands behind his neck slightly holding his head up to watch Tony’s beautiful face glide up and down his shaft just as the little whore had done earlier that day.

Michael released his hold on his neck and lie completely spread eagle as Tony moved his mouth down to service his balls. Sucking them one at a time, and then both together. Complete relaxation overtook him as he rolled to the side and lifted one leg into the air grasping it at the ankle. As expected, Tony’s hot velvety smooth tongue moved to his perfect hole. At first lapping and then fully intrusive in its nature as Tony’s intensity increased.

“Oh God,” Michael moaned as two welled lubed fingers entered his perfection. He briefly opened his eyes staring at the spackled ceiling and quickly noticed the hidden video camera lens that Rudolph had previously expertly placed in the room. This will be a movie I’ll enjoy watching many times, he thought.

When Tony had repositioned himself to be simultaneously sucking and finger fucking him, Michael forced himself to rouse out of his revelry. He reached down to Tony’s shoulders and guided him into a full standing position as he positioned himself into a sitting position on the side of the bed. Tony quickly responded by peeling off his T-shirt showing off his six pack abs and chiseled chest. All the while smirking down at Michael in an almost challenging way to open the prize.

Michael accepted that challenge and slowly, one at a time, unbuttoned the button fly, but not fully exposing what he could feel growing underneath. He licked Tony’s lower stomach slowly making his way up to his belly button. He then proceeded with hot breaths and kisses at a faster rate up to his chest and nipples. This is where he took pause, teasing them with his teeth and tongue. He glanced up to see Tony’s smirk grinning back down at him. Tony then pushed him down, off of the bed, into a kneeling position and released his hooded giant, which was now standing at half-mast.

Michael hefted its weightiness with his right hand while stroking himself with the left. He reached out and grabbed the foreskin with his lips while tonguing the hidden head. As Tony’s erection grew, Michael moved both of his hands to grab Tony’s meaty buttocks, and forced the erection down his open throat. It didn’t take long before the erection grew in strength and the kneeling position became awkward. Michael rose intending to lie Tony down on the bed, but immediately found himself lip locked in what now was a totally acceptable hungry kiss. The animalistic nature of the kiss enraptured Michael to the point that he wasn’t entirely sure of how he ended up beneath Tony on the bed. But then, Tony broke away from his face and once again took Michael’s throbbing cock into his talented mouth while turning and positioning his legs over Michael. Michael opened his mouth to accept the thick cock as they methodically performed oral sex on each other to perfection.

Tony’s somewhat shriveled balls bounced off of Michael’s nose on each inhalation of cock. It was when Tony’s fingers once again began exploring Michael’s hole that he realized he needed to be paying a little more attention. On an upstroke, Michael completely pulled Tony’s shaft from his mouth, allowing the balls to enter. He played them off of each other and then took them all at once in a fervent sucking manner. Then Tony completely stopped his previous play, pulling his balls out of Michael’s mouth, and squatted above Michael, giving him total oral access to his musky and manly hole. Michael breathed in the erotic scent and immediately went to work with his tongue. He lost himself once again and was surprised when Tony rose, already wearing a condom, and said “that was nice dude, let’s play for real now.”

Michael was ready. He immediately threw his legs up in the air in a playful gesture, and Tony immediately caught them. They were both laughing now. Michael reached around behind his knees and pulled them as close to his ears as possible, giving Tony total access. Tony once again expertly worked on the ass with his mouth and hands until Michael was writhing in anticipation. Tony then sidled up to the awaiting hole and gently guided in his first couple of inches. “Come on,” Michael said, “I’m not a virgin.”
Tony then thrust in his entire length and held it. Michael’s heart palpitated. It had been several months since he had been fucked and he had to remind himself that the brain often translated pressure into pain. As soon as he was able to relax, Tony began to fuck him, softly and slowly at first, and then fast and hard.

Michael released his grip on his legs, letting them fall onto Tony’s shoulder, and started beating off in rhythm. “Oh God,” he moaned, not for the first time that night, as he soaked up all of the pleasure he could without coming first. After losing himself in the pleasure, he realized that it wasn’t going to happen. He began to cum heavily all over his chest, mixing in with the sweat dripping off of Tony, as he continued to fuck his hole harder and faster and even harder.

Just when Michael thought he couldn’t take it anymore, and the pleasure of being fucked was turning into an annoyance, Tony pulled himself out sliding his condom off with ease. “Please let me come in between those pretty lips,” he grunted. Michael grinned and took the meat into his mouth. It wasn’t even a stroke before he felt the hot juices pulsate deeply into his throat. He swallowed by instinct, and then regained his thought processes and held the rest in his mouth. When Tony’s grunting had turned into whimpering, Michael released the cock from his lips and kissed Tony fully, returning the fluids to whom they had come.

Michael was a little upset with himself. He had wanted to get fucked doggy style and try to come hands free as the whore had done earlier that day but he had lost control. And control was something he deeply needed and craved.

Although Tony was definitely attractive, and possible boyfriend material, Michael still had a lot of work to do that night. Now was the tricky part. How was he to get Tony out of his house without hurting his feelings? It always seemed to come down to these awkward situations.

Michael propped himself into a half sitting position with his elbows, and then reached out with his right hand swiping up a pool of cum and letting it dangle six inches above his chest. “Um, I’m going to need to shower again,” he giggled while making direct eye contact with Tony.

“Sure, no problem.” Tony replied with a sardonic laugh, while squeezing out the last of his cum from his drooping cock and slowly wiping it onto Michael’s forehead, “rags need to be washed every now and then.”

The water was hot and rained down upon Michael’s thrice soaped body as he pondered Tony’s last statement. Mixed thoughts crisscrossed throughout his mind. He had hoped that Tony might become his Portland boyfriend; but, then again, he had never really considered him for more than his almost perfect body. How in the hell was he going to get this fucker to leave his home? And, most importantly, did Tony really just call him a rag?

Michael reached out and turned the temperature to very cold, and bathed in the icy water for a couple minutes before completely turning it off.

Best to meet this situation with a cool head, he thought.

He reached out and grabbed the guest towel, since his was lying next to the bed where he just had incredibly awesome sex with a total jerk, and dried himself off. He then grabbed his bathrobe and prepared himself for the uncomfortable conversation where he told Tony that he had to go.

He was surprised to find that Tony was already fully dressed with keys in hand.

“Hey, I gotta run.” Tony said. “I’ve got this three hundred pound guy that loves to sit on my face while he jacks off. We meet at Ten O’clock every Monday night.”

Michael’s reaction was silent but his confusion was evident.

“You know who I am, right?” Tony asked.

Noticing Michaels bewildered stare, he continued. “I’m all over the internet and print advertisements. You know, ‘just call 503-FOR-SEXX and don’t forget the Xtra X.’”

“Oh yeah,” Michael stumbled, “Ted told me about that.”

“You didn’t think I could afford my lifestyle as just a personal trainer did you?” Tony quarried. “Hell, half of my clients at the gym are regulars, and the other half are wannabe’s.”

“So, anyways”, Tony continued. “You are a totally hot fuck, and you really get my motor running, it actually helps me with my clients because I’ll be thinking of you while I’m doing them.” He laughed. “Maybe I’ll stop by tomorrow evening before I have to fuck a skeleton, or the next when it’s this old decrepit lawyers hot young wife.”

And then he turned and left.

Michael was stunned. He totally blamed himself for not doing the necessary research. Maybe he was getting sloppy as he got older. But for now, he felt dirty again, and dropped out of the bathrobe and once again headed for the shower.

Although he was new to Portland and desperately wanted a boyfriend, there was no time for distractions. Now was when he needed to focus.

He had contracted murder and payback on his mind.

 

[rocabar]

great continuation, Swerve!

 

[Kyanimal]

!!!

That's about all the strength I have left to say right now!

THANK YOU, Swerve!

Keep smilin'!!
Chaz

 

[DonQuixote]

I'd forgotten who our main man was!
Hot, sensuous, and what a slap in the face.

The details were delightful, lol.

 

[Lefty]

Hey 'T',

personally...I didn't like it. My Bad, there are a lot of things in different stories
that I like or don't like.

Not an evaluation of the story or the narrator of same. I just don't care for the
block the story is on this chapter. Doesn't mean I will quit reading, there is
always a patch or two in everything that someone won't like. I love Bloody Marys
but I hate Screwdrivers....same-same

Keep up the great work and I will keep telling you how I feel....but only if you
promise to remember it just how I feel, not how the work is.

 

[Knucklehead]

Wow Swerve,great story.Super writing.Shame about Seth.I was kinda liking him and was silently rooting for him.

The incredible detail of these stories is startng to make me wonder if you're not really a serial killer..

 

[swerve]

bumpity bump...

More to come...

 

[Lefty]

I hear you knocking.......

Why can't you come in?

 

[Kyanimal]

bumpity bump...

More to come...

YES! FINALLY!!

Keep smilin'!!
Chaz

 

[arogersb]

I'm really looking forward to the next installment of this unusual gay noir tale. Please let it be soon! Thanks, swerve.