Installment 11-Lion's Pride
https://interracialerotica.net/erotica/articles/195/1/Installment-11-Lions-Pride/Page1.html
By Olga Coleman-Williams
Published on May 31, 2010
When the door closed behind Jake, the room seemed unnaturally quiet. Carrick and Malcolm could only stare at each other across the room. Each surveyed the other, as if they were assessing the other’s strengths and weaknesses, probing for ground unguarded and vulnerable.
“Fuck it!” Malcolm threw out then launched himself into the space between them. Suddenly he was right there-right in Carrick’s face, taking a moment to delve deep into his eyes before Carrick felt his head grabbed between Mal’s hands and roughly brought to Mal’s lips. They dueled. First, a thrust, then a parry. Both men fighting for the upper hand, both of their arms were tangled as they sought to control the other’s movements by cupping the other’s head at the nape. Almost violently, they strained urging the other’s submission.
“God, I need you.” Carrick whispered, preoccupied by feel of Mal’s skin on his fingertips. Carr felt sorry for any person who felt touching, or being touched by, another man could never be as enticing as the touch of a woman. Is it different? Certainly, but the feel of Mal in his arms was pure bliss. Like this, pressed together, shaft to shaft was unfettered, unadulterated intoxication. Doing this, only few steps away from Camille being put back together again, was selfish, but Carr needed a fix, badly. “We need to stop, someone might come in.” Carrick forced his mouth away from Mal’s and pressed his cheek against his partner’s, praying a silent prayer to find the strength to step away.
Quietly and separately seething over the day’s events was creating barrier between them that had never existed before. Mal needed Carrick. He needed a jolt of Carr’s strength and stoicism. Carr is the balm for everything that ever ailed him-and so much hurt right now. Mal, for a little bit of time, wanted to wrap them up in the tight cocoon of their love and physically express and renew it. With Carrick to guide him he knew he could find his humanity again. “If I don’t cum in you in the next ten minutes, or you in me, I will kill someone or take this place down brick by brick.” Mal promised.
Mal’s meaning pulsed through Carr’s body. The tension and viciousness of the day was unrelenting. The ultimate salve to their shared pain was human contact - physically demonstrating just how different they were from the evil they had witnessed seemed like an oasis. Their humanity and love was their shield from the evil. Carrick could no longer fight his need for Mal. To gain the advantage, Carrick let his hands longingly and languidly slide down his lover’s chest, almost sighing at the shortening and lengthening of Mal’s muscles as he explored its contours. When he grasped Mal around his trim waist the savage motion ground Carr’s length against Mal’s. They both exhaled in a loud burst of sound, appreciating the feel of lean muscle playing against its match.
Abruptly Mal disappeared, one moment he was in his arms and the next second Carrick was staring at the wall. That is, until he was almost shoved in the flat, cool surface. His face’s contact with the cold surface briefly brought everything into focus. Again, Carrick felt the urge to press pause. There were things they needed to discuss, plans needed to be made. Then he felt Mal’s fingertips run slowly across his shoulders and down his arms. Time was infinite as Carrick closed his eyes so his body could more fully enjoy the pleasure of Mal’s touch. Carrick didn’t want to be bothered with any other stimulus but Mal’s body stretching along the back of his. Malcolm’s arms rested alongside the outside of his till Mal had threaded his fingers through Carrick’s. For a moment they rested, again, cheek to cheek, with Mal’s hips were grinding, almost drilling in to Carr, in rhythm that was sure and possessive.
Carrick had to brace himself, leaning his weight against his hands and forearms, as he felt Mal, thrust his fully clothed dick deep into the space the space that separated the globes of his ass. Carr made a sound of contentment.
“Changed clothes?” Mal whispered against Carr’s neck.
For a moment, language meant nothing to Carr. He couldn’t make sense of the syllables emerging from Mal’s mouth. He knew Mal’s could feel his confusion as well, because Carr felt the stretch of his lover’s lips, in a smile, against the nape of his neck. Then it clicked what Mal was asking.
“Grace.” Was the only word that Carr could offer in explanation? The effort to utter even that brief response seemed to tax him severely. Carrick was focused on trying to hold his body up, along the wall, while Mal’s began to slowly undulate in a pattern reserved for the timeless act of love.
“Good. Ever prepared, Grace,” Mal panted and smiled. With each syllable, Malcolm’s tongue seemed to graze the delicate contours of Carr’s ear. “I am sure that she sent a spare.” Immediately, Mal reached down so that his hand lightly ran down Carrick’s core. Efficiently, Mal brought his hands up close to Carr’s neck grabbed the halves of the cotton material stretched across Carrick’s chest and pulled in one swift motion. For a moment it seemed the rent material rained buttons everywhere.
Even under the onslaught of Mal’s carnal captivity, there remained a gossamer barrier between Carrick’s urge to surrender to Mal’s campaign against his senses and his innate need for self-preservation. Self-preservation was a Caudwell hallmark, it was imbedded in his family’s DNA, Mal’s pull was overwhelming and powerful, but Carr’s essence required him to bow to a long lineage of clarity and control. There were important things that needed to be said, business had to be settled first.
Carrick balled his hands in fists, effectively preventing Mal from continuing to thread his fingers between his. At the sound of Mal’s groan of protest, Carrick turned to meet his lover eye to eye. Carr felt weak, but some semblance of strength allowed his lust hooded eyes to meet Mal’s equally passion filled ones.
“What do you want from me?” Carrick tucked his hand behind his body as he leaned heavily against the wall behind him. He didn’t want the exquisite pull of Mal’s nearness to overpower his common sense.
The abruptness of Carrick’s question served to significantly cool Mal’s ardor. One moment he was almost crazed with the want to be immersed in the act of making love to Carrick and the next he was stone, cold sober. “I have never wanted anything from you except your love and our life together.” Malcolm move toward Carrick in an attempt to touch Carr’s hand.
Carrick quickly batted his hands away. “Bullshit, that may have been enough a month ago, but we both know things have changed!” Carrick would not allow Mal to mistake his point. “She has the medical attention that she needs. I am moving her to Lion’s. She will enjoy the privilege of my considerable protection. Now, what else do you want from me, Malcolm I am willing to be more patient with you than most, but know I have my limits.” Though Carrick’s voice was clear in conveying his warning, his face was naked and vulnerable, stark in his need to know how present events bore on their future.
The knowledge that he had brought his fearsome, golden haired lion to the point where he had to almost beg understanding of his position in Malcolm’s affections brought Mal low with shame. Mal almost felt compelled to provide some banal assurance of the sanctity of their relationship, but they both knew something has changed over the last few weeks. Their lives together had never been based on lies or subterfuge. Mal had to be honest. “I need you to give her a real chance. See if she can fit into our lives.” Mal’s countenance was equally as vivid in its need for Carrick to understand.
“Did I miss something? During my few encounters with her she did not seem at all interested in any type of relationship with us. Carr placed heavy emphasis on the last part of his statement. “You, you she seems to have a soft spot for, but she can barely be in the same room with me, without causing a scene.”
“I think you both get high marks in the ‘scene starter’ department.”Malcolm mumbled as he thrust his hands in his pockets, then turned from Carrick and moved to the office’s sofa and fold himself into its plush confines.
Carrick arched his eyebrow as his eyes followed Mal’s movements while he digested Mal’s words. “Mal, I am not going to apologize for my instinct to protect the people I love. I may have gone too far, where Camille is concerned, and truth be told I feel a certain responsibility for her being so badly hurt, but I need to know how we are going to move forward. Can we move forward?’
“Are you in love with her?”For a second Carrick believed the thought had only whispered through his mind. Then he saw Mal’s head drop between his forearms, as they rested on his knees and then Mal clasped his hand behind neck. Carrick realized that he finally put it out there-he had asked Malcolm to finally declare his feelings for Camille.
When Malcolm finally looked up he was momentarily distracted by Carr’s careless elegance, he looked all tousled by their early attempt at lovemaking, leaning against the wall, with his hands in his pockets. There were haute couture designers who would kill to have that shot marketing their togs. Mal had to toss all those thoughts aside and concentrate on the elephant in the room. Carr had demanded that he show his hand. “Carr, this is so hard, so strange for me. I have only ever been interested in relationships with men. Being with you, having our life together was more than I ever dreamed I could have…I met Camille. She was nice. She was a woman, I only thought of her as a friend. Things changed, slowly, over time. Somehow I felt something more than friendship, more than just physical attraction. I felt connected to her…like what I feel for you, but so different-independent of what I feel for you. Malcolm ended his uncharacteristic rambling disgusted with himself. Knowing that he certainly didn’t give Carrick any clearer idea of how he felt so much for both of them.
Carrick straightened and stood in the power position, his feet planted shoulder length apart and looked at Mal with a curious combination of bemusement and sympathy, but he was compelled to push him further. “So where does all of this leave us now?”
“You feel nothing for her?” Mal defiantly shot out, almost before Carr could finish his sentence.
“Mal, I hardly know her.” Carrick replied quickly.
“The terrace last night…” Mal began
“The terrace was lust, fueled with a huge dose of annoyance,” Carrick finished, allowing his hands to make his point, as they unfolded, palms out, then bringing them together with a terrific crash.
“Who is bullshitting whom now?”Mal disgustedly snapped back with instant acuity. Then Mal went in for the kill-the truth was not a one person game. “What made you angrier?” Mal stood again and crossed the room so that he was a hair’s breath away from his lover. “That she was in my arms, or that you weren’t included? When her legs were wrapped around you and you had complete control of her body, you felt nothing? Or where you as hopelessly lost, as I was? When you two are in a room together the energy is kinetic.” Malcolm eyes dared Carr to contradict him. “Carrick, when you really can’t stand someone you give them cold indifference, when you argue with Camille she brings you outside yourself, you act like a madman. So don’t give me that you hardly know her. Something inside you RECONGNIZES her, that’s what really pisses you off. You were immediately just as attracted to her, but you didn’t want to rock the boat.
Malcolm and Carrick have a loving, mature and stable relationship. With the introduction of the mysterious Camille into their lives, will everything they hold dear be destroyed, or will she provide the missing link to giving them all they never knew they desired.
Installment 11-Lion's Pride
When the door closed behind Jake, the room seemed unnaturally quiet. Carrick and Malcolm could only stare at each other across the room. Each surveyed the other, as if they were assessing the other’s strengths and weaknesses, probing for ground unguarded and vulnerable.
“Fuck it!” Malcolm threw out then launched himself into the space between them. Suddenly he was right there-right in Carrick’s face, taking a moment to delve deep into his eyes before Carrick felt his head grabbed between Mal’s hands and roughly brought to Mal’s lips. They dueled. First, a thrust, then a parry. Both men fighting for the upper hand, both of their arms were tangled as they sought to control the other’s movements by cupping the other’s head at the nape. Almost violently, they strained urging the other’s submission.
“God, I need you.” Carrick whispered, preoccupied by feel of Mal’s skin on his fingertips. Carr felt sorry for any person who felt touching, or being touched by, another man could never be as enticing as the touch of a woman. Is it different? Certainly, but the feel of Mal in his arms was pure bliss. Like this, pressed together, shaft to shaft was unfettered, unadulterated intoxication. Doing this, only few steps away from Camille being put back together again, was selfish, but Carr needed a fix, badly. “We need to stop, someone might come in.” Carrick forced his mouth away from Mal’s and pressed his cheek against his partner’s, praying a silent prayer to find the strength to step away.
Quietly and separately seething over the day’s events was creating barrier between them that had never existed before. Mal needed Carrick. He needed a jolt of Carr’s strength and stoicism. Carr is the balm for everything that ever ailed him-and so much hurt right now. Mal, for a little bit of time, wanted to wrap them up in the tight cocoon of their love and physically express and renew it. With Carrick to guide him he knew he could find his humanity again. “If I don’t cum in you in the next ten minutes, or you in me, I will kill someone or take this place down brick by brick.” Mal promised.
Mal’s meaning pulsed through Carr’s body. The tension and viciousness of the day was unrelenting. The ultimate salve to their shared pain was human contact - physically demonstrating just how different they were from the evil they had witnessed seemed like an oasis. Their humanity and love was their shield from the evil. Carrick could no longer fight his need for Mal. To gain the advantage, Carrick let his hands longingly and languidly slide down his lover’s chest, almost sighing at the shortening and lengthening of Mal’s muscles as he explored its contours. When he grasped Mal around his trim waist the savage motion ground Carr’s length against Mal’s. They both exhaled in a loud burst of sound, appreciating the feel of lean muscle playing against its match.
Abruptly Mal disappeared, one moment he was in his arms and the next second Carrick was staring at the wall. That is, until he was almost shoved in the flat, cool surface. His face’s contact with the cold surface briefly brought everything into focus. Again, Carrick felt the urge to press pause. There were things they needed to discuss, plans needed to be made. Then he felt Mal’s fingertips run slowly across his shoulders and down his arms. Time was infinite as Carrick closed his eyes so his body could more fully enjoy the pleasure of Mal’s touch. Carrick didn’t want to be bothered with any other stimulus but Mal’s body stretching along the back of his. Malcolm’s arms rested alongside the outside of his till Mal had threaded his fingers through Carrick’s. For a moment they rested, again, cheek to cheek, with Mal’s hips were grinding, almost drilling in to Carr, in rhythm that was sure and possessive.
Carrick had to brace himself, leaning his weight against his hands and forearms, as he felt Mal, thrust his fully clothed dick deep into the space the space that separated the globes of his ass. Carr made a sound of contentment.
“Changed clothes?” Mal whispered against Carr’s neck.
For a moment, language meant nothing to Carr. He couldn’t make sense of the syllables emerging from Mal’s mouth. He knew Mal’s could feel his confusion as well, because Carr felt the stretch of his lover’s lips, in a smile, against the nape of his neck. Then it clicked what Mal was asking.
“Grace.” Was the only word that Carr could offer in explanation? The effort to utter even that brief response seemed to tax him severely. Carrick was focused on trying to hold his body up, along the wall, while Mal’s began to slowly undulate in a pattern reserved for the timeless act of love.
“Good. Ever prepared, Grace,” Mal panted and smiled. With each syllable, Malcolm’s tongue seemed to graze the delicate contours of Carr’s ear. “I am sure that she sent a spare.” Immediately, Mal reached down so that his hand lightly ran down Carrick’s core. Efficiently, Mal brought his hands up close to Carr’s neck grabbed the halves of the cotton material stretched across Carrick’s chest and pulled in one swift motion. For a moment it seemed the rent material rained buttons everywhere.
Even under the onslaught of Mal’s carnal captivity, there remained a gossamer barrier between Carrick’s urge to surrender to Mal’s campaign against his senses and his innate need for self-preservation. Self-preservation was a Caudwell hallmark, it was imbedded in his family’s DNA, Mal’s pull was overwhelming and powerful, but Carr’s essence required him to bow to a long lineage of clarity and control. There were important things that needed to be said, business had to be settled first.
Carrick balled his hands in fists, effectively preventing Mal from continuing to thread his fingers between his. At the sound of Mal’s groan of protest, Carrick turned to meet his lover eye to eye. Carr felt weak, but some semblance of strength allowed his lust hooded eyes to meet Mal’s equally passion filled ones.
“What do you want from me?” Carrick tucked his hand behind his body as he leaned heavily against the wall behind him. He didn’t want the exquisite pull of Mal’s nearness to overpower his common sense.
The abruptness of Carrick’s question served to significantly cool Mal’s ardor. One moment he was almost crazed with the want to be immersed in the act of making love to Carrick and the next he was stone, cold sober. “I have never wanted anything from you except your love and our life together.” Malcolm move toward Carrick in an attempt to touch Carr’s hand.
Carrick quickly batted his hands away. “Bullshit, that may have been enough a month ago, but we both know things have changed!” Carrick would not allow Mal to mistake his point. “She has the medical attention that she needs. I am moving her to Lion’s. She will enjoy the privilege of my considerable protection. Now, what else do you want from me, Malcolm I am willing to be more patient with you than most, but know I have my limits.” Though Carrick’s voice was clear in conveying his warning, his face was naked and vulnerable, stark in his need to know how present events bore on their future.
The knowledge that he had brought his fearsome, golden haired lion to the point where he had to almost beg understanding of his position in Malcolm’s affections brought Mal low with shame. Mal almost felt compelled to provide some banal assurance of the sanctity of their relationship, but they both knew something has changed over the last few weeks. Their lives together had never been based on lies or subterfuge. Mal had to be honest. “I need you to give her a real chance. See if she can fit into our lives.” Mal’s countenance was equally as vivid in its need for Carrick to understand.
“Did I miss something? During my few encounters with her she did not seem at all interested in any type of relationship with us. Carr placed heavy emphasis on the last part of his statement. “You, you she seems to have a soft spot for, but she can barely be in the same room with me, without causing a scene.”
“I think you both get high marks in the ‘scene starter’ department.”Malcolm mumbled as he thrust his hands in his pockets, then turned from Carrick and moved to the office’s sofa and fold himself into its plush confines.
Carrick arched his eyebrow as his eyes followed Mal’s movements while he digested Mal’s words. “Mal, I am not going to apologize for my instinct to protect the people I love. I may have gone too far, where Camille is concerned, and truth be told I feel a certain responsibility for her being so badly hurt, but I need to know how we are going to move forward. Can we move forward?’
“Are you in love with her?”For a second Carrick believed the thought had only whispered through his mind. Then he saw Mal’s head drop between his forearms, as they rested on his knees and then Mal clasped his hand behind neck. Carrick realized that he finally put it out there-he had asked Malcolm to finally declare his feelings for Camille.
When Malcolm finally looked up he was momentarily distracted by Carr’s careless elegance, he looked all tousled by their early attempt at lovemaking, leaning against the wall, with his hands in his pockets. There were haute couture designers who would kill to have that shot marketing their togs. Mal had to toss all those thoughts aside and concentrate on the elephant in the room. Carr had demanded that he show his hand. “Carr, this is so hard, so strange for me. I have only ever been interested in relationships with men. Being with you, having our life together was more than I ever dreamed I could have…I met Camille. She was nice. She was a woman, I only thought of her as a friend. Things changed, slowly, over time. Somehow I felt something more than friendship, more than just physical attraction. I felt connected to her…like what I feel for you, but so different-independent of what I feel for you. Malcolm ended his uncharacteristic rambling disgusted with himself. Knowing that he certainly didn’t give Carrick any clearer idea of how he felt so much for both of them.
Carrick straightened and stood in the power position, his feet planted shoulder length apart and looked at Mal with a curious combination of bemusement and sympathy, but he was compelled to push him further. “So where does all of this leave us now?”
“You feel nothing for her?” Mal defiantly shot out, almost before Carr could finish his sentence.
“Mal, I hardly know her.” Carrick replied quickly.
“The terrace last night…” Mal began
“The terrace was lust, fueled with a huge dose of annoyance,” Carrick finished, allowing his hands to make his point, as they unfolded, palms out, then bringing them together with a terrific crash.
“Who is bullshitting whom now?”Mal disgustedly snapped back with instant acuity. Then Mal went in for the kill-the truth was not a one person game. “What made you angrier?” Mal stood again and crossed the room so that he was a hair’s breath away from his lover. “That she was in my arms, or that you weren’t included? When her legs were wrapped around you and you had complete control of her body, you felt nothing? Or where you as hopelessly lost, as I was? When you two are in a room together the energy is kinetic.” Malcolm eyes dared Carr to contradict him. “Carrick, when you really can’t stand someone you give them cold indifference, when you argue with Camille she brings you outside yourself, you act like a madman. So don’t give me that you hardly know her. Something inside you RECONGNIZES her, that’s what really pisses you off. You were immediately just as attracted to her, but you didn’t want to rock the boat.
Carrick wanted to turn away from Mal, physically distance himself from the possible truth of Malcolm’s words, but no matter what, he could never be a coward. “So what do you want, baby?”Carrick asked again, this time his voice calm and soothing. They had come full circle and Carr was compelled to touch Malcolm, he lightly touched his hand to his lover’s face.
In response Mal turned his face into Carrick’s caress, and then nudged his nose into the palm of Carrick’s hand, smelling his scent and simultaneously being further calmed by it. Slowly Mal’s tongue trailed a path across Carr’s palm’s “Heart Line” and trailed it up to the tip of Carr’s pointer finger.
If the heat of their discussion hadn’t juiced the path to Carrick’s libido, Mal’s tongue and turned it firmly to the “on” position. “Shit Mal, that’s not fair.” Carrick came close to whining-if Caudwell’s were capable of such behavior.
Mal only gave a sly smile in response. The time for talking had ended; it was now time for the physical performance segment of their entertainment. Where earlier they had pitted their strength against each other, now they displayed the softer, sweeter, side of their affections.
Slowly they closed whatever gap remained between them as their mouths joined. They explored each other lips and mouths as if it was new territory. Each ridge and dip was praised and worshipped. Slowly Mal began to unbutton his shirt so that he could draw it over his head. Carrick softly brushed his hand aside and reverently did the task for him. As he drew Mal’s polo shirt over his head, Carrick stooped so that he could give due respect to each ridge that was uncovered. As Carrick moved from the line above the edge of Mal’s shorts, to his chest, and then to his pectorals, Carrick was aware that Malcolm was doing all he could to control his breathing. Again he arched an eye at Mal, while giving his very special blessing to the tips of Mal’s nipples.
Mal was watching him. Somehow watching Carrick worshiping his body smoothed out his carnal craving; preferring to focus on quality of the journey, not the fever of the race. It took a lifetime for Carrick to finish tracking the little spaces of Mal’s chest, so that he could finally lift the shirt over his head. At long last, Carrick stood in front of Malcolm. For a moment they both looked uncertain, this level of lovemaking was entirely different from any they had experienced, together, before. Touching each other took on a fairytale quality. Once upon a time…
Malcolm could only enfold Carrick in his arms. They were both half dressed, bare chest to bare chest; they recharged each other’s dangerously low reserves of energy and purpose. They become one in a way that can’t be touched by the purposeful insertion of one’s body part into another’s. At that moment they both felt it. Their future was assured. Whatever came next, they were in it together, and they would face it as one. Their relationship was the foundation of anything that came next and that platform was stronger than ever. “Baby, I love you so much.” Mal murmured into Carrick’s neck.
Carrick twisted his head so that he could look directly into Mal’s dark caramel eyes, “I need you in my life, I must have you by my side, you make it all make sense. I will see where this all leads us. I will give her a chance.”
Mal’s response was clear and evident, pressed between their bodies was confirmation of their need of each other. Mal returned Carr’s look while he reached between their bodies and made short work of a mysterious mix of buckles and zippers, in a short few moments that were naked and still standing in each other’s arms. Slowly, Mal moved back and ran his hand down Carr’s arm, until he reached his hand, which he clasped. Mal deliberately pulled Carrick behind him, leading him to the sofa and laying him on its cool surface.
Mal could only admire Carrick’s body; muscular, without having a bodybuilding overtone, lightly tanned, with sparse hairs, except the line that tunneled to his cock. Carrick always kept that area landscaped and presently the long, hard muscle straining from its perch was nearly begging for attention. Mal could hardly deny it. Once Mal’s lips touch Carrick, Carr’s body gave a little jump. The want of Mal’s body and this bit of satisfaction almost seemed to short circuit his system.
Malcolm’s ability at fellatio was aDICKtifying. It took only a few short moments for Carrick to be almost insensible, but he didn’t want to cum in Mal’s mouth. He felt the pressure building within his body and knew he had to move quickly. In a blink he had Mal lying across the couch, facing him, and one of Mal’s legs across his shoulder. Then he remembered what they were missing and could almost weep in frustration, there was no way Mal could take him without lubrication. Suddenly a small plastic tube flew through the air and almost hit him in the head. Fortunately, Carrick caught and made short work of its use. While he was smearing on the substance, taking extra care to stimulate Mal’s prostrate, “How in the hell were you able to get the lube?”
Malcolm was panting in time with each of Carrick’s thrusts, “Babe, this is a doctor’s office; lube here is like sand at the beach.” Mal took a sharp breath as Carrick took his own sweet time entering him. The feeling was beyond the scope of the written word. Carrick pressed home with a grind of his hips and Mal was lost. When Carrick reached out to move his hand up Mal’s cock, mimicking the movement of Carrick’s hips, Mal knew that he was reaching the end of his control. Carrick continued a lazy motion that was maddening and exquisite. From their position, facing each other, they were able to look into each other’s eyes and chart the course of the other’s release. And then it was there, it didn’t come in a roar, as with their usual lovemaking. No, this was steady, strong, and soul-shattering. As Carrick felt the kneading strength Mal’s orgasm pull at his the circumference of his own spasming cock, Carrick was compelled to delve even deeper so that his balls roughly rubbed at the mounds of Mal’s ass. The act seemed to make their bodies want to engage in an encore. The sensations pulled from them an even stronger reaction; their scrotums seemed to want to turn inside out to release every particle of their sexual offering. At the moment of their last contraction, Carrick almost fell on Malcolm. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they slowly faded into a light sleep.
*******************************
An hour and a half later, Mal was in the office’s bathroom enjoying the luxury of its shower. Mal and Carrick had attempted to make efficient use of time and water by taking a shower together, but the results were controversial. Mal was presently taking his second shower in a half hour.
Carrick was back at the table, fully clothed in his second set of clothes, looking over the same documents that he had been trying to sort out for the last few hours, finally he was making headway. He kept glancing up at the door, but he knew they shouldn’t expect any updates about Camille’s condition for at least another hour. Therefore, Carrick was surprised when the door suddenly opened and a pale haired, woman in a red pencil skirt and a matching jacket stepped through the door. The moment she stepped through the door her nose started twitching like a crazed rabbit.
“What the hell Julia!” Carrick roared in surprise. He couldn’t hide his shock at seeing one of his closets’ friends, who actually was also the ex-wife of his best friend Storm Weston, walk through the door.
The woman turned to him with an expression that literally dripped with calling him all kinds of asshole. “Damn it Carrick, Grace calls us, whipping us up in frenzy, thinking that you desperately needed us. So we work double-time to jump on a plane and come to your aid and I’ve got to come to some unknown doctor’s office to catch the dregs of the scent of, “Eau du Fucked My Husband” in the air? Julia blatantly sniffed the air again as if she smelled something rancid.
The thought to rescind the offer to give Grace a raise briefly ran through Carrick’s mind, as he looked at his supremely pissed friend. “Last time I checked the State of New York does not recognize same-sex marriage, so you are really getting a whiff of, “Eau du Fucked My Committed Life Partner.” Carr commented with a cheesy grin.
“Whatever it’s called, the stuff still smells vile.” Julia quipped, pausing from casual perusal of the room. Julia was perched on the highest heels known to man, she knew she looked spectacular. Some blondes give off an air of icy coolness, Julia always burned red hot. She could do WASPy cool with the best of them, but she did scorching hot a damned measure better.
Julia was like the sister he never had, so Carrick sat back and carefully folded his glasses, knowing all the time that his slow movements were sending Julia into the stratosphere. He took his own sweet time to address her. His eyes hinted at his amusement when he addressed her. “So, it’s been a while since you’ve been turned out, huh Jules.”
Julia’s pale blonde hair was almost glowing she was so mad. “The hell you say!”
“Well my experience is that one is not usually concerned about the sex lives of others, if one is getting her’s on the regular. So how long has it been, six months, seven? Tell your much younger brother, Carrick, how hard up you are?” Carrick was fascinated by the fire crackers exploding in Julia’s eyes.
“You little bitch….”Before Julia could get a good head of steam the bathroom door opened.
Mal stepped through the door with a towel slung low on his hips and another one was being brushed across his head, “Carr, did they come in with an update?”
“Well, speaking of getting turned out…”Julia exhaled in full appreciation of Mal’s gorgeous body.
Her voice startled Mal so much that he almost lost the towel around his waist when he jumped. “Jesus Julia!”
Julia stalked over to Mal in a manner that would have done Carrick proud. “Say Mal, are you still gay?” She touched his arm and seemed mesmerized by the jump in his biceps.
This has always been the game between Mal and Julia. “Julia, please don’t take this the wrong way, but for you, yes I am.” Mal laughed as Julia made a show of the crushing blow his words weld.
“Oh well, can’t blame a girl for trying.” Julia made a move toward Mal’s dangerously dipping towel, as he danced away from her wayward hands.
“Okay down, ‘Little Miss Hard-Up, In Need of a Hosing Down.’ I am going to need you to back away, slowly, from my man.” Trust Julia to bring laughter to an insane forty-eight hours.
“Who else is with you?” Carrick asked, watching Mal’s ass while he disappeared into the bathroom.
“Lisa.” Julia replied. Watching Carrick, watch Mal’s ass.
“You two flew together, alone.” Carrick head jumped toward Julia’s, quick enough to catch her nod of confirmation. He knew that they were getting along much better, but he figured that was with the assistance of electric gates and tasers.
“What can I say, I’ve evolved. By the way, she was right behind me, but wanted to look at some chart. I would do something about the sleazy scent of the Fuckarama that must have been going on in here, before she steps into this DOCTOR”S OFFICE” Julia gave him a pointed stare. “You know she’s an innocent-even though she stole my husband.” Julia feigned a perplexed look at the contradiction. “I think she’s heard a few stories of your extensive sexual exploits, and she has a soft spot for Mal. Malcolm’s sweet compassionate exterior has all the ladies fooled-Damn he’s the shit!” Julia cast a glance at the closed bathroom door. “Anyway, I think Lisa prefers to believe that you and he just sit around giving each other chaste kisses-she definitely doesn’t want to believe that Mal is just as much of a dirty little boy as you and Storm.” Julia threw her comments over her shoulder as she walked back across the room and disappeared through the door, mumbling something about, “you can’t bring some damn billionaires’ anywhere.”
In response Mal turned his face into Carrick’s caress, and then nudged his nose into the palm of Carrick’s hand, smelling his scent and simultaneously being further calmed by it. Slowly Mal’s tongue trailed a path across Carr’s palm’s “Heart Line” and trailed it up to the tip of Carr’s pointer finger.
If the heat of their discussion hadn’t juiced the path to Carrick’s libido, Mal’s tongue and turned it firmly to the “on” position. “Shit Mal, that’s not fair.” Carrick came close to whining-if Caudwell’s were capable of such behavior.
Mal only gave a sly smile in response. The time for talking had ended; it was now time for the physical performance segment of their entertainment. Where earlier they had pitted their strength against each other, now they displayed the softer, sweeter, side of their affections.
Slowly they closed whatever gap remained between them as their mouths joined. They explored each other lips and mouths as if it was new territory. Each ridge and dip was praised and worshipped. Slowly Mal began to unbutton his shirt so that he could draw it over his head. Carrick softly brushed his hand aside and reverently did the task for him. As he drew Mal’s polo shirt over his head, Carrick stooped so that he could give due respect to each ridge that was uncovered. As Carrick moved from the line above the edge of Mal’s shorts, to his chest, and then to his pectorals, Carrick was aware that Malcolm was doing all he could to control his breathing. Again he arched an eye at Mal, while giving his very special blessing to the tips of Mal’s nipples.
Mal was watching him. Somehow watching Carrick worshiping his body smoothed out his carnal craving; preferring to focus on quality of the journey, not the fever of the race. It took a lifetime for Carrick to finish tracking the little spaces of Mal’s chest, so that he could finally lift the shirt over his head. At long last, Carrick stood in front of Malcolm. For a moment they both looked uncertain, this level of lovemaking was entirely different from any they had experienced, together, before. Touching each other took on a fairytale quality. Once upon a time…
Malcolm could only enfold Carrick in his arms. They were both half dressed, bare chest to bare chest; they recharged each other’s dangerously low reserves of energy and purpose. They become one in a way that can’t be touched by the purposeful insertion of one’s body part into another’s. At that moment they both felt it. Their future was assured. Whatever came next, they were in it together, and they would face it as one. Their relationship was the foundation of anything that came next and that platform was stronger than ever. “Baby, I love you so much.” Mal murmured into Carrick’s neck.
Carrick twisted his head so that he could look directly into Mal’s dark caramel eyes, “I need you in my life, I must have you by my side, you make it all make sense. I will see where this all leads us. I will give her a chance.”
Mal’s response was clear and evident, pressed between their bodies was confirmation of their need of each other. Mal returned Carr’s look while he reached between their bodies and made short work of a mysterious mix of buckles and zippers, in a short few moments that were naked and still standing in each other’s arms. Slowly, Mal moved back and ran his hand down Carr’s arm, until he reached his hand, which he clasped. Mal deliberately pulled Carrick behind him, leading him to the sofa and laying him on its cool surface.
Mal could only admire Carrick’s body; muscular, without having a bodybuilding overtone, lightly tanned, with sparse hairs, except the line that tunneled to his cock. Carrick always kept that area landscaped and presently the long, hard muscle straining from its perch was nearly begging for attention. Mal could hardly deny it. Once Mal’s lips touch Carrick, Carr’s body gave a little jump. The want of Mal’s body and this bit of satisfaction almost seemed to short circuit his system.
Malcolm’s ability at fellatio was aDICKtifying. It took only a few short moments for Carrick to be almost insensible, but he didn’t want to cum in Mal’s mouth. He felt the pressure building within his body and knew he had to move quickly. In a blink he had Mal lying across the couch, facing him, and one of Mal’s legs across his shoulder. Then he remembered what they were missing and could almost weep in frustration, there was no way Mal could take him without lubrication. Suddenly a small plastic tube flew through the air and almost hit him in the head. Fortunately, Carrick caught and made short work of its use. While he was smearing on the substance, taking extra care to stimulate Mal’s prostrate, “How in the hell were you able to get the lube?”
Malcolm was panting in time with each of Carrick’s thrusts, “Babe, this is a doctor’s office; lube here is like sand at the beach.” Mal took a sharp breath as Carrick took his own sweet time entering him. The feeling was beyond the scope of the written word. Carrick pressed home with a grind of his hips and Mal was lost. When Carrick reached out to move his hand up Mal’s cock, mimicking the movement of Carrick’s hips, Mal knew that he was reaching the end of his control. Carrick continued a lazy motion that was maddening and exquisite. From their position, facing each other, they were able to look into each other’s eyes and chart the course of the other’s release. And then it was there, it didn’t come in a roar, as with their usual lovemaking. No, this was steady, strong, and soul-shattering. As Carrick felt the kneading strength Mal’s orgasm pull at his the circumference of his own spasming cock, Carrick was compelled to delve even deeper so that his balls roughly rubbed at the mounds of Mal’s ass. The act seemed to make their bodies want to engage in an encore. The sensations pulled from them an even stronger reaction; their scrotums seemed to want to turn inside out to release every particle of their sexual offering. At the moment of their last contraction, Carrick almost fell on Malcolm. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they slowly faded into a light sleep.
*******************************
An hour and a half later, Mal was in the office’s bathroom enjoying the luxury of its shower. Mal and Carrick had attempted to make efficient use of time and water by taking a shower together, but the results were controversial. Mal was presently taking his second shower in a half hour.
Carrick was back at the table, fully clothed in his second set of clothes, looking over the same documents that he had been trying to sort out for the last few hours, finally he was making headway. He kept glancing up at the door, but he knew they shouldn’t expect any updates about Camille’s condition for at least another hour. Therefore, Carrick was surprised when the door suddenly opened and a pale haired, woman in a red pencil skirt and a matching jacket stepped through the door. The moment she stepped through the door her nose started twitching like a crazed rabbit.
“What the hell Julia!” Carrick roared in surprise. He couldn’t hide his shock at seeing one of his closets’ friends, who actually was also the ex-wife of his best friend Storm Weston, walk through the door.
The woman turned to him with an expression that literally dripped with calling him all kinds of asshole. “Damn it Carrick, Grace calls us, whipping us up in frenzy, thinking that you desperately needed us. So we work double-time to jump on a plane and come to your aid and I’ve got to come to some unknown doctor’s office to catch the dregs of the scent of, “Eau du Fucked My Husband” in the air? Julia blatantly sniffed the air again as if she smelled something rancid.
The thought to rescind the offer to give Grace a raise briefly ran through Carrick’s mind, as he looked at his supremely pissed friend. “Last time I checked the State of New York does not recognize same-sex marriage, so you are really getting a whiff of, “Eau du Fucked My Committed Life Partner.” Carr commented with a cheesy grin.
“Whatever it’s called, the stuff still smells vile.” Julia quipped, pausing from casual perusal of the room. Julia was perched on the highest heels known to man, she knew she looked spectacular. Some blondes give off an air of icy coolness, Julia always burned red hot. She could do WASPy cool with the best of them, but she did scorching hot a damned measure better.
Julia was like the sister he never had, so Carrick sat back and carefully folded his glasses, knowing all the time that his slow movements were sending Julia into the stratosphere. He took his own sweet time to address her. His eyes hinted at his amusement when he addressed her. “So, it’s been a while since you’ve been turned out, huh Jules.”
Julia’s pale blonde hair was almost glowing she was so mad. “The hell you say!”
“Well my experience is that one is not usually concerned about the sex lives of others, if one is getting her’s on the regular. So how long has it been, six months, seven? Tell your much younger brother, Carrick, how hard up you are?” Carrick was fascinated by the fire crackers exploding in Julia’s eyes.
“You little bitch….”Before Julia could get a good head of steam the bathroom door opened.
Mal stepped through the door with a towel slung low on his hips and another one was being brushed across his head, “Carr, did they come in with an update?”
“Well, speaking of getting turned out…”Julia exhaled in full appreciation of Mal’s gorgeous body.
Her voice startled Mal so much that he almost lost the towel around his waist when he jumped. “Jesus Julia!”
Julia stalked over to Mal in a manner that would have done Carrick proud. “Say Mal, are you still gay?” She touched his arm and seemed mesmerized by the jump in his biceps.
This has always been the game between Mal and Julia. “Julia, please don’t take this the wrong way, but for you, yes I am.” Mal laughed as Julia made a show of the crushing blow his words weld.
“Oh well, can’t blame a girl for trying.” Julia made a move toward Mal’s dangerously dipping towel, as he danced away from her wayward hands.
“Okay down, ‘Little Miss Hard-Up, In Need of a Hosing Down.’ I am going to need you to back away, slowly, from my man.” Trust Julia to bring laughter to an insane forty-eight hours.
“Who else is with you?” Carrick asked, watching Mal’s ass while he disappeared into the bathroom.
“Lisa.” Julia replied. Watching Carrick, watch Mal’s ass.
“You two flew together, alone.” Carrick head jumped toward Julia’s, quick enough to catch her nod of confirmation. He knew that they were getting along much better, but he figured that was with the assistance of electric gates and tasers.
“What can I say, I’ve evolved. By the way, she was right behind me, but wanted to look at some chart. I would do something about the sleazy scent of the Fuckarama that must have been going on in here, before she steps into this DOCTOR”S OFFICE” Julia gave him a pointed stare. “You know she’s an innocent-even though she stole my husband.” Julia feigned a perplexed look at the contradiction. “I think she’s heard a few stories of your extensive sexual exploits, and she has a soft spot for Mal. Malcolm’s sweet compassionate exterior has all the ladies fooled-Damn he’s the shit!” Julia cast a glance at the closed bathroom door. “Anyway, I think Lisa prefers to believe that you and he just sit around giving each other chaste kisses-she definitely doesn’t want to believe that Mal is just as much of a dirty little boy as you and Storm.” Julia threw her comments over her shoulder as she walked back across the room and disappeared through the door, mumbling something about, “you can’t bring some damn billionaires’ anywhere.”