A Pound of Flesh Ch. 02

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The next day, Nicky went to work as I had instructed him and officially resigned, giving them two weeks’ notice (that way, if something happened to me, he’d still have good references). His supervisor was nice enough to count the day before to his credit despite him being ill and using it as a personal day, and he also permitted Nicky to use up some vacation time that he had accrued before coming back for the final week. This meant that Nicky would have some time to get his stuff moved out of his old place and settle up his lease, which thankfully the condo’s management chose to allow as well. The trick in both cases turned out to be letting Nicky suck the men off under their desks, which was fine with me, though both men were supposedly straight, married guys. Evidently, they couldn’t refuse a twink like Nicky.

“That last cock… damn! I think that you’ve gotten me hooked on dick, Dave,” Nicky grinned as he spat out the second load from the monstrous black cock that he had sucked, which belonged to the condo manager.

“Glad that you didn’t swallow. You never know what could be in a strange man’s load. You only made them think that you would swallow… very clever,” I commended Nicky on that before giving him a deep French kiss and directing his mouth to my crotch.

“Now, this… this I will swallow, gladly,” Nicky told me as he unzipped my pants and took my dick into his mouth.

“I am so fucking glad that they let you use up your vacation time, honey. I’m gonna love fucking the hell out of you this week. Your ass will be very used to my cock by Saturday, be sure of that,” I told Nicky as he deep-throated me, his face entranced by his hunger for it.

Granted, Nicky still had to get past his gag reflex at times, given my size, but he often worked past it and increasingly managed to get my entire length inside him whenever it suited us, as with now. The way that he sucked me off in my truck was awesome, and I made sure to give us some privacy so he could finish the job of blowing me before we went inside the pharmacy to pick up some hair removal cream. He was going to be one smooth fellow by the time I was done with using that stuff on him. Between that and his rapidly dropping testosterone levels, he should have no trouble keeping the body hair away. Nicky didn’t have a lot of hair to begin with, so that was an easy slide toward smoothness for him.

Part of me really wanted to share Nicky’s butt sooner rather than later, but another part of me wanted to wait until I had fully housebroken him, so to speak. I didn’t want monster dicks wrecking his ass before I got plenty of use out of it, if at all, for one thing. This was my bottom, after all. He belonged to me, including… and especially his lovely tush. His sweet ass was mine, first and foremost, and we both knew that was a lifetime commitment. He wasn’t just my best friend now… he was my bum boi… my boyfriend, to put it bluntly. Just because I was going to share him fully with people didn’t mean that I would let him forget that he belonged to me, as if he ever could, judging from the adoring looks that he gave me. The two guys that he had sucked off didn’t count in my book because that was oral only, he hadn’t swallowed, and I had given Nicky my permission to do it.

When we walked inside the CVS for the hair removal cream, I noticed people staring at both of us, probably because of the way that Nicky behaved around me. The overall impression was that they weren’t clear if Nicky were a guy or a really tomboyish gal. His androgyny raised some questions from the local bigots, it seemed. More than a few of them mouthed “faggot” at us, especially him, because I had put instinctively put my hand on the seat of his pants. It only got worse when I grabbed some beer and supper for us, too. The counter clerk looked at us as if we were from Mars for a second, but he finally started scanning our stuff (including some frozen pizza, due to my lazy mood).

“Hot date tonight, guys?” the guy with the pencil-thin mustache smirked.

“Yes, man, he’s my boyfriend. Okay? So what? We’re lovers and we’re on vacation together, so get over it. Our money’s as good as straight folks, all spends the same,” I reminded him.

Nicky looked as if he had died and gone to Heaven for a second, to have me acknowledge him publicly as mine. It was as if Nancy and her discarding of him, the severing of the engagement, their entire humiliating relationship, in which she had acted embarrassed by him half of the time, had never taken place. It was as if he had always been mine, because deep down, he had. I had just finally reclaimed what was rightfully mine from that demon bitch in a skirt. Yeah, I was possessive in this case… it had always fallen to me to zealously look out for Nicky, after all. He was just plain… mine.

“So… you’re gay. Okay, I can live with that. It’s the 21st century. I just hadn’t ever… you know, met any gay guys who were as… brazen about it, güvenilir bahis I suppose. Not in person,” Louis, that was the cashier’s name, explained to me, eager to take back his homophobic jest.

“Wow, you really are a closet case, aren’t you?” I laughed as I took my receipt from him, making him blush before he tried to stammer out a denial, “and for the record, I’m bisexual, not gay. I like pussy, too. But yes, I also like dick… and ass… and mouth.”

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to offend. Just don’t say that kind of thing in public. I have a girlfriend. I’m an usher in a Pentecostal church. They’re already not too pleased with where I work. I could go to Hell for such things, you know. I have to walk the straight and narrow,” he stammered.

“Let me tell you something and make it quite clear to you. The only Hell to which you’re going is the one where you already live. If you’re gay or bi, say so and be proud. Any God that would send you to Hell for that is not a God worthy of worship, if you ask me,” I told him bluntly as we left.

“Wow… you really told him, didn’t you?” Nicky laughed as we headed back to my place with the merchandise.

It took longer than expected to get rid of Nicky’s body hair, of course. After this, we took a gloriously long shower in which I fucked him deep in the ass, and then he cleaned me off all over again. As I dried Nicky off, he closed the distance and put his head on my shoulder, crying out his tears as another release of his pain. We kissed very passionately, too, our tongues darting between each other’s lips to invade our mouths.

That was when the phone rang and I rushed to grab it. The voice on the other end was distinctly feminine and very familiar. It wasn’t Nancy, either. It was Chelsea Hughes, a delightful Brit that I met years ago and who had been an occasional fuckbuddy, too. We were never officially a couple because of her stated ambition to go into porn, which had raised too many questions that I had never dared to broach in the past, for fear of knowing the answers. She had a distinctly aristocratic English accent (and in fact, was from somewhat upper-class, Etonian circles, if a bit tainted by a grandfather’s Fascist sympathies during the Second World War) and a frosty façade which concealed her truly warm and loving nature. Why she wanted to be in porn was never clear, given her background and the scandal that uptight prigs like her parents would feel… or maybe that was the whole point.

“Good morning, you lovely man! How are you today, darling?” Chelsea was rather cheerful today, though in my time zone, it was actually noon by now.

“Same to you, though it’s noon here, Chels,” I reminded her.

“It’s always morning to me, love, when you’re around. You’re the dawn, the rising sun of my horizons. Haven’t you learned that by now? I’m still in love with you,” she informed me rather dramatically.

“Still? I never knew that you were in the first place,” I expressed the surprise that I felt while turning the phone on speaker.

“Oh, by Jove, you are such a delectable man, but so dense about things like this, I see. I’ve been holding a torch for you… well, for years. Ever since that one night, love. So… how about I catch up with you tonight, see what’s new in our lives?” Chelsea offered me, “maybe at Marian’s. You still like eating there, don’t you?”

“Yes, but I must warn you… I have a boyfriend. You remember Nicky Stavropoulos, my best friend, right? Well… he and I are more than just friends now. We’re a couple,” I informed her.

“So… you’re gay or bi?” Chelsea wondered aloud.

“Bisexual and we’ve agreed to share each other up to a point. At least with women. There are other things that I should tell you, but, well, it’s best to explain them with a bit more privacy. Nicky, will you be a dear and make sure that the pizza is in the freezer, so we can eat it tomorrow?” I answered, to which he shrugged… I honestly thought that he was more disappointed about not drinking the beer yet than not having the Red Baron (though I thought that he found the mustache attractive).

“Oh, hi, Nicky, you darling chap! Sorry if I interrupted any important supper plans, but trust me, I’ll make it up to you. It’s my treat. I want both of you along for dinner. I’ll treat you both when my plane lands. Any chance that you two gents could pick me up and save me the shuttle ride? I couldn’t line up a limo at short notice, I’m afraid, not at rates that weren’t utter larceny, that is… and shuttle rides aren’t known for their privacy, of course,” Chelsea requested, but I suspected that she just wanted to see us sooner that way.

“Alright, Nicky boy, let’s get moving. I’ll talk to you later, Chels. I’m looking forward to this, I confess. It has been a while. I just hope that we can all get along like old times,” I smiled.

“Not like old times, honey. Better. Much, much better, love. You’ll see,” Chelsea assured me.

“I wonder what türkçe bahis that was about,” I chuckled as she hung up.

Nicky rolled his eyes a bit, but then planted a steamy kiss, which I greedily returned. It was obvious that his mind was going in the same direction as me. He remembered Chelsea, too, after all, and how it hadn’t happened between us… perhaps it would this time… perhaps not. We had agreed that we’d include women now and then, and he was eager to at least get to eat pussy, since he sadly couldn’t fuck it now. Just because we were a same-sex couple didn’t make us suddenly gay, after all… we both liked men and women alike.

We dressed in a hurry and headed over to the airport, all spruced up and ready to meet up with our “hot date,” as the mustached clerk had put it back at CVS. I made sure that Nicky had a nice suit on, too. One that met us would never have guessed that there was anything to Nicky that was amiss or different. He just seemed like a rather handsome, if somewhat androgynous fellow… a bit of a dandy, in fact. We made it well in time despite the traffic to the airport. Yeah, I know, Amarillo traffic, right? Even so, we got there. It wasn’t like Philly at least, which neither Nicky nor I particularly missed, aside from the cheesesteaks. Even there, I didn’t like the kind with Cheese Whiz. Provolone was much better.

The whole way there, Nicky was a chatty Cathy, but that was fine with me. I was just glad that he was in a good mood, given how recently he had been ready to take his own life. Nicky gossiped more than expected about Nancy’s family, mostly from spite. He knew everything that there was to know, including how Nancy’s mother had a fondness for the occasional… or more than occasional stud. Not to mention what a complete lush her father was. Charles Ames Hutchens evidently liked his gin in more than moderation and was often so passed out drunk that Nancy feared that he wouldn’t be able to walk her down the aisle. I got the distinct impression that it wasn’t clear whether Pamela Hutchens cheated before or after her husband embraced the sauce as his true love. Maybe it was both at once.

Either way, this whole mess explained why Nancy was so jaded and warped. Something told me that they had just made a more dangerous enemy than they could ever have guessed, Nancy especially… not counting the foe that they now had in me. She had broken my bum boy’s heart and that was gonna cost her… and her family. They just didn’t know it yet. Nicky knew all of their secrets, after all… far more than they realized. Apparently he wasn’t entirely the dupe about them that he had been about her… and now he had a motive to spill the beans. Never underestimate a Greek with a vendetta, not even one without his balls.

Anyway, once we got to the airport, I couldn’t help but notice the looks that I got from the crowd, not to mention those that Nicky got. He was a cutie, after all. Something about him begged for attention and many of the “straight” men out there noticed him more than they cared to admit to their wives or girlfriends. Something about the possessive way that I behaved around Nicky was the equivalent to sending the signal that meant, “This is my bottom bitch boi, and I’m not in the giving vein today.”

I heard a few whispers here or there of “Top” and “bottom,” too. Of course, more than a few bottoms flirted with me, too. I had to admit that this was flattering, especially when one of them slipped me a note that read, “I love bears.” Apparently, this was directed at me because of my beard, which was rather thick by now. It was a good thing that I wasn’t flying myself, because the TSA might have gotten a little nervous around me, if they weren’t already just by my being there… or perhaps Nicky spared me some unwanted attention, because we all but carried a sign that read, “same-sex couple,” something that presumably a radical religious extremist or terrorist wouldn’t care to experience.

Nor was the attention limited to guys, either. Plenty of women noticed us; too, as if sighing because they thought that I was gay. Others flirted with me, anyway, one of them going so far as to slip her hands down the backs of my pants and Nicky’s, before whispering, “Threesome time?” I didn’t know if this was just them seeing me as a challenge or something else at work that happened to me when I last had a girlfriend. Some women saw it as their mission to lure me away from somebody else, at least for the night. This was idiocy, because even if I slept with them, it wouldn’t come at Nicky’s expense. Relationships and sex are not a zero-sum game, right?

All of this attention paled compared to what Chelsea got when she appeared on the scene from the plane. The woman could and would have all eyes on her, even the gay male ones, from admiration, I nothing else. She was elegant… statuesque… stately… refined… sophisticated. She was definitely a lady, slutty or not. Everything about her screamed güvenilir bahis siteleri “good taste” and “high class.” No one present would have ever guessed that she was a rising star in porn. She looked far more like a duchess or something like that. She was the quintessential, upper-class Englishwoman, down to her skirt, blouse, and naturally heels… everything. I suspected that was much of her appeal in porn, too… she offered something quite rare, including her pale skin and cut-glass British accent. She was definitely Queen Bee here, because she owned the airport and she knew it.

Imagine the chagrin of the various ladies and gentlemen when this truly delectable British tart approached me, of all people… and Nicky, of course. It was even more stunning when she unabashedly planted two searing kisses on our lips, mine followed by his. These were not cool pecks, as one might expect. No, these were steamy lip locks, meant to be brazen about their intent. Everyone’s jaws seemed to drop as she made out with both Nicky and me. When she put her hands on our butts, people coughed and started trying to pretend that they weren’t watching, of course.

“Good afternoon, you darling fellows, you lovely gents… shall we dine?” she asked as she led us to the baggage claim, where we gladly seized her luggage for her and dragged it to my truck.

As I drove us to Marian’s, Chelsea began speaking for what seemed an eternity, but both of us happily listened to everything that she had to say. She seemed to have found quite the niche in the adult film industry, especially since she had so much to offer the producers and directors in terms of novelty. She had a new fleshlight and blow-up doll modeled on her, along with her other merchandise, such as her new condom venture… Chelsea never went bareback on film, except during oral sex, but given her appeal, she had the clout to pull that off. She also never did anal, at least not so far, but I was never clear as to why. Again, of course, she was able to get away with it, because what producer or director would turn down the idea of filming a British noblewoman letting her hair down?

“So… you’ve been rather quiet, Nicky? What’s new in your life, besides becoming Dave’s bottom slut?” Chelsea abruptly asked him.

“Well, my fiancée dumped me and I was neutered. That’s basically it, beyond quitting my job as a stockbroker,” Nicky told her bluntly, “Well, along with Dave saving the rest of my manhood from a loan shark, who was the guy who severed my balls.”

“By Jove, that’s truly horrific! Dear lad, your fiancée isn’t much of a lass, if you ask me. There are ways to make a marriage work, even without an intact husband. Why were you in such hoc, if you mind my asking you?” Chelsea showed her true disgust with Nancy, of course.

“To… pay for the wedding. Nancy had expensive tastes, but wouldn’t spare a dime for it. I owed Sly Mackenzie fifty grand for it, and he most definitely collected, even though Dave here found the money to pay him. He made an example of me, and then forced Dave to pay, anyway, for fear of me losing my cock,” Nicky stammered, “Dave took me in and claimed me as his own after that, comforted me and showed me that I had his love, if not hers.”

“Oh, dear, Dave really is a lovely bloke, isn’t he? Aren’t you, Dave? As for Nancy, I hope that she at least put out the cunny for you before you spent all that on her. You got to sample the quim, right?” Chelsea quickly realized from our expressions that Nancy had done no such thing.

“No… Nancy was determined to be a virgin bride on her wedding day, the one that has been cancelled. It’s traditional for the bride’s family to pay for the wedding, but Nancy stuck Nicky with the bill at her parents’ behest. Oh, and here’s the kicker, Nicky… would have given her his cherry, too,” I informed Chels, much to her fury.

“That… cunt! Bitch! Twat! Fucking shrew! I have half a mind to read her the bloody Riot Act! All that and she never even put out for you! Oh, sweet Nicky… if only! That is truly horrid, to never get to know the pleasures of a warm, damp cunny around your cock. Ungrateful, bloody, motherfucking, ruthless horror! To think that they call me the Ice Queen. Good God, man! That tosser! And that wanker of a loan shark can lick my arse when it’s dirty, except that I wouldn’t honour him with the privilege!” Chelsea cursed in revulsion.

“Yeah, if I ever get the chance to ruin his life, I would do with a clear conscience,” I admitted, “No one hurts my Nicky boy and gets away with it.”

“Our Nicky boy, Dave. That’s… kind of what I wanted to talk to you about, lover. I… want to marry you. There, I said it. I know that you’ve had reservations about being my husband before, when I’ve brought it up, but trust me, I have very good reasons and I have no ill intentions toward you. I’ll explain more when we eat. You might have taken it as a jest, but it never was. It was always a serious proposition, love,” Chelsea announced as I opened the door for her, now that we were parked outside Marian’s Bar and Grill… did I mention how much she hated gourmet and haute cuisine… rather atypical of her class, of course.

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