Gay Erotic Stories

First thing Thursday morning, despite their late night interrogation of Lena, the drag queen in the Shift, Nick and Noah were up and about early. They felt they were onto something at last, and they wanted to get to the supermarket where this ‘Geoffrey Renouf’ worked as soon as it opened. Nick seemed convinced it would lead them to Jim, although Noah still had considerable doubts. Within minutes of the doors opening at 8.00 that morning, the two were asking questions of the staff at the front of the store. Yes, they knew Geoff, but no, he hadn’t been in all week. One of the girls volunteered that she believed he wasn’t scheduled for a return to work until the following week. Noah could see that they were getting nowhere chatting with the checkout girls, and he insisted on speaking with the store manager. They were led into a small and somewhat dingy office at the back of the brightly lit shopping area, beside the storage warehouse, where they were greeted by a Mr. Fryer, a rotund man with squinty eyes and a rosy complexion. He stood to greet them, ushering them to seats opposite his desk and shuffling back to take his place. The effort of that minor motion seemed to leave him breathless, although he attempted to smile at the two men facing him. Noah thought he had never seen a less sincere grin on anyone, and Nick mentally christened him ‘Fryer Tuck’ on the spot. “What can I do for you gentlemen?” he asked amiably enough as they took their seats. “We’re trying to get in touch with one of your employees, a Geoffrey Renouf,” Noah explained. “We believe he may have some information that could help us find a missing friend.” “Hmmm,” Fryer nodded as his eyes widened with curiosity. “You sound just like police officers!” he said with a half-hearted grin. Noah smiled back. “No, just trying to help our friend. Now about Mr. Renouf?” “Yes, well he does work here. He’s not in today, though. I’m sure he was taking some leave this week, not expected back until Monday, if I recall.” “Could you check for us, please? It’s rather important that we contact him.” Noah’s voice began to take on some urgency. Fryer grumbled as he hoisted himself once again from his protesting chair and shuffled to a card-file drawer at one side of the office. He flicked through some files and pulled out the one for which he was searching. Opening the folder, he pointed his finger at the papers within and announced with satisfaction, “Yes, thought so. Away on annual leave until next Monday morning!” “Shit!” said Nick loudly, causing Fryer to raise his eyebrows. “Oh, sorry,” he then added a tad meekly, catching Noah’s raised eyebrow. “Could you give us a home address for him then, or a contact telephone number?” asked Noah hopefully, but suspecting the answer he received. “Oh, no, can’t do that! It’s against the law, and company policy.” Fryer was quite firm on that point. Nick squirmed in his seat as Noah tried to reason with Mr. Fryer. “But it’s urgent that we reach him. Perhaps you could call him at home for us, ask him if he’ll agree to giving us his details, or meet us somewhere?” Fryer considered the request slowly, the idea seeming to confuse him. Noah could feel Nick fidgeting beside him, could sense the building impatience in his partner. With a shrug, Fryer nodded. “I suppose that couldn’t hurt,” he said uncertainly. He studied the page in front of him and dialed a number that neither of the men could catch, waiting as the connection was made. For a long half minute all three sat and waited. Then Fryer hung up the phone. “Sorry, there’s no one there – just an answering machine.” He seemed relieved that he had not been required to complete the call. Noah cursed silently to himself as Nick spoke up. “Is there any alternative number for him? A mobile phone? An emergency contact?” His voice was growing thick with irritation. Noah reached across beneath the cover of the desktop and squeezed Nick’s leg, trying to calm his mate, forestalling the outburst he knew was coming. “I really don’t see that you have given me anything to suggest there’s an emergency, no good reason to go that far,” said Fryer, his tone officious now. Nick leaned forward and said with even, controlled emphasis, “You really don’t seem to realize, Sir, that we have a friend who is missing. He has been missing, which is quite out of character for him, for over three days now. The police, to whom we have given a report, are too slow to action, as I’m sure you’ve experienced. We have it from confirmed sources that our friend was last seen in the company of your Mr. Renouf. We really need to reach this guy to at least ask him a couple of questions. That’s all; just a couple of questions that we hope will shed some light on the whole matter. Could you not find it within yourself to help us and just tell us how we can get a hold of him sooner than later?” Mr. Fryer’s response came a little too quickly and too dismissively: “Be that as it may, gentlemen, rules are rules and laws are laws. The police officially asking for access to confidential information would be one thing. But I can’t go and give such information to just anyone who claims they have legitimate cause, now can I?” Nick actually began to rise out of his seat, “Why you…” “Nick,” Noah hissed quickly. “Would you leave me to talk to Mr. Fryer alone, please? Wait outside for a second?” Nick looked at his partner with surprise, then quickly picked up on the pointed stare from Noah. Knowingly he said, “Yeah. Sure,” and left the room. As Nick left the office, Noah spoke again. “Mr. Fryer, I know this is very unusual, but we are very worried that something serious may have happened to our friend, and that your Mr. Renouf could be the only one who can help us. Is there any way we could prevail upon you to maybe bend a rule or two to help us out here? It’s not as if anyone needs to know where we got the information…” Fryer looked at Noah doubtfully, weighing up the words as he did. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could there was a commotion outside, and a shrill alarm began to sound in the main part of the store. Fryer looked up, his irritation obvious. One of his staff members raced to the door of the office. “Hey, Mr. Fryer, you better get out here now,” she said breathlessly. ”It’s the fire alarm!” “Where’s the fire?” he asked, eyes widening in alert. “I don’t know, sir, but the customers are panicking.” Fryer dropped the folder he had been holding onto the desk and hurriedly followed the girl from his office. Noah reached over and grabbed the papers in the folder, looking at them quickly to confirm that Renouf’s home address was included, and tore out the relevant page, stuffing it into his pocket before making a quick and unnoticed exit from the office. He hurried to the front of the store as he passed shoppers and staff who were all looking toward one section where an ear-piercing siren continued to shriek. As Noah reached the exit, he leaned over the service desk and grabbed the microphone sitting there unattended. “Downstairs, Nick!” he said, his words bellowing out over the PA system. It was all he could think of to let his partner know he was ready to leave. He made a fast exit along the street and around into a side street where their car was parked, turned the motor over and opened the passenger door. Within seconds, Nick came racing around the corner at full speed, and dived into the car, slamming the door behind him. Without a word Noah stepped on the accelerator and the vehicle jumped forward and roared away. Noah looked at Nick with a question on his face. “Did you know…” Nick huffed as he caught his breath, “…that if you open the emergency exit doors at the back of that store, the fire alarm goes off?” He grinned a huge smile. “You were brilliant, hon,” Noah grinned back at him. “And I got what we wanted.” He pulled the page from his pocket and tossed it to his man. “Hey,” Nick exclaimed. “This has his address and his next of kin as well! Perfect.” “All thanks to you!” Noah declared. Nick chuckled, as he looked at Noah’s face. “Bond. James Bond.” He said in a very bad English accent. “And Noah?” “Yes, Mr. Bond?” “I could swear I heard you say the word, ‘downstairs’!” *********** As they drove, Nick studied the sheet of paper he had. “This guy isn’t the son of Lady Renouf at all!” he declared. “It says here his next-of-kin is his mother, and her name is ‘Margery Smith’.” “I thought as much,” Noah stated. “Where does he live?” Nick read out the address, and Noah made a U-turn and headed the car back towards Renouf’s home. It was close by and they were on a roll, still flushed with the excitement of the encounter in the supermarket. At the address given, they found a respectable enough apartment block with a security intercom system in place. Several minutes of pressing on the button for Geoffrey Renouf’s apartment left them in no doubt he wasn’t home. As Noah walked slowly toward the main entrance and peered through the glass, Nick laughed out loud. “I’ve always wanted to do this!” he said, and gleefully began pushing buttons for each flat except the one they wanted. Noah rolled his eyes. “You watch far too much television!” he stated as enquiring voices began to bark from the speaker. Eventually one of the residents just hit the release button and the door buzzed. As Nick quickly grabbed it and pulled it open, he looked at Noah again. “Maybe so, but I get the results! After you …” ***** “I’ve been threatening to take that credit card away from you for a while now, and I think the time is getting closer!” Noah stated quietly as they stepped through Renouf’s front door and closed it behind them. Nick simply grinned. The place was tidy enough and quite spacious. Some discarded clothes were tossed carelessly on the lounge chair, a couple of used glasses resting in the sink. Each of the boys looked around carefully, wondering just what they expected to find that would lead them to Geoffrey, and hopefully to Jim. “So what am I looking for?” Nick asked. “I’m not sure,” was Noah’s reply. “Anything that might give us a clue as to where he is, or what happened to Jim. Why don’t you start looking in the bedroom and I’ll poke around here. But, Nick? Try not to make a mess, okay?” Nick responded by glaring at his boyfriend with a look of daggers, and headed for the bedroom while Noah began opening drawers and carefully searching through them. He found nothing that appeared out of the ordinary, and wondered to himself just exactly what it was they could possibly find that would assist anyway. As he continued to poke into the bookshelf against one wall, the telephone rang. With a start, Noah looked at the instrument as if it were accusing him of a crime. Strictly speaking, that’s exactly what he was doing, but how did the damn telephone know it? He walked towards the handset, with no intention of picking it up, but drawn to it anyway. As the ringing stopped and a scratchy voice cut in – Geoffrey’s answering machine had picked up the call – Noah looked down to see a pad and pencil beside the phone. Scribbled on the pad in a firm hand were the letter ‘J’ and a number. Noah stared at it for a second or two before realisation broke over him. “Nick,” he called out excitedly. From the neighbouring room, Nick’s voice floated back, “Yeah? “What’s Jim’s phone number, do you know?” “Sure.” As Nick reeled off the digits, Noah followed them on the paper by the phone. “Well, this guy obviously knows Jim,” he announced as he went into the bedroom where Nick was still opening drawers. “He has Jim’s phone number written on a piece of paper out there. I wonder when he got that – before or after Sunday night?” Nick was only half listening to his partner. With a leering grin, he held up an item he had retrieved from the bedside table. “Look what Geoffrey has!” he hissed. In his hand was a smooth chrome circle, about 5 or 6 centimetres in internal diameter, the metal itself around 5 millimetres thick. Sitting there in Nick’s hand it looked innocent enough, if puzzling as to its possible use for many people. Noah wasn’t impressed. “So he has a cockring! You have one exactly the same at home. We need something that tells us where he is, not what he gets up to in bed!” Nick tried to hide his disappointment as they continued their search. Opening the wardrobe doors, Nick pushed clothes aside, without any idea why he was looking in there. His eyes lit up when he made his next find. “Here’s something else we have at home!” he stated with a grin. An empty hanger swung on the railing at one end of the closet. It was an unusual item in that, unlike an ordinary hanger, it was quite large, with upturned pins near where the shoulders normally sit, and two additional horizontal rungs at the base. The word “Mephisto” was inscribed in fiery red letters on the black plastic, just below the handle. Both men recognised it instantly. “Mephisto” was the name of a company that operated a shop on Oxford Street, and specialised in leather wear – the kind of leather wear Nick and Noah loved so well. The hanger was identical to a number they had at home. It was designed to hold a harness and chaps for delivery and storage. “So Mr. Renouf is into a bit of leather!” Nick chuckled. “So are you!” Noah repeated. “It still doesn’t help.” They kept up their prying for another 15 minutes but came up empty. Disappointed, Noah finally announced they were getting nowhere. They had to try another tack if they were going to locate their friend. “I think it’s time we had a better look around at Jim’s place!” he said. As they let themselves out of Geoff’s apartment building, Noah dialed the number for the Police Centre on his mobile phone, and asked for Detective Roarty. “Hello, detective,” he said into the phone. “Noah Sorensen here. I was wondering if you had any news about our friend, Jim Richards? … Yes, that’s right … no? Have you inspected his flat yet? … and there was nothing there … yes, apart from the mess, I mean … okay. You will keep me up to date, won’t you? … Okay, bye!” “The police say that they are treating it seriously now that they’ve seen the mess in Jim’s home, but they found nothing there to help them,” he relayed the contents of his conversation to Nick. “Then why should we bother?” Nick asked. “I’d feel happier knowing we tried,” Noah stated without conviction. ***** Once again, Nick’s newly discovered skills with his credit card were put to good use despite Noah’s reservations on the subject, and they found themselves looking around at the chaos of Jim’s living room. In the cooler, more level-headed light of having started something, the mess didn’t seem as bad as yesterday’s first inspection. The police had obviously been there: some items were moved around, even picked up, but there was little evidence of them having done much more than inspect the havoc. Nick and Noah waded into the detritus, sorting through it, moving things around, looking for anything at all that might connect Jim with Geoff, or might suggest where he was. Noah had immediately looked for any kind of scribble pad near the phone, but no luck this time. Nick was opening drawers in the living room and rifling through various papers, but all he found were bills and pamphlets, nothing of any use, or even particularly personal. Noah felt the same sinking sense of hopelessness he had known at Geoff’s apartment descending upon him. Only this was worse, how could they ever find anything here, amongst the upturned furniture and scattered trinkets, especially if the police had been able to find nothing. After all, they were trained in what to look for; Nick and he were operating blindly. He sat down to gather his thoughts, and for some reason his eye was caught by a book lying on the floor, partially obscured by an armchair which had been pulled away from its usual position. Nick bent to the ground and picked it up. It was a touring atlas; a book of road maps for the entire country. “Strange thing to be reading!” he muttered to himself. A slip of paper extended from between the closed pages. Careful not to lose the page where the paper was inserted, Noah opened the map book. What he had seen was actually the edge of a large sheet, blank except for two sets of numbers near the centre. He glanced curiously at the page where the bookmark had been lodged. It was a map of the area on the coast north of Newcastle, near Port Stephens, with the Pacific Highway a thick black line as it wound from north to south roughly following the coastline. The map began at Taree in the north and ended where the Pacific and New England Highways converged to form the F3 Freeway into Sydney from just north of Newcastle. Noah read to himself the names of the townships that bordered the main route to Brisbane from Sydney: Hexham, Raymond Terrace, Karuah, Bulahdelah, the off-shoot to Forster and Tuncurry and another to Nelson Bay, up to the rural centre of Taree. He knew the area vaguely, but it meant nothing special to him. Returning his attention to the paper which had been stuck in that particular page, Noah saw again the sets of figures written there in what he believed was Jim’s handwriting. He looked carefully at the two rows of digits. The first consisted of letters and numbers – cx783093. The second row appeared to be a telephone number. On an impulse, he fished out his telephone and dialed in the second set of figures. The line connected, and he heard the ring tones echo from the other end. For a few seconds nothing, no answer. He was about to cut the line when a metallic, recorded voice answered. ‘Hi, it’s Geoff. You know the drill, wait for the beep and then talk!’ Noah almost dropped the phone in surprise. He knew the drill all right. He also knew the message. He’d heard that same message about an hour and a half ago, but that time he had been standing right next to the machine. It was Geoff Renouf’s number he had called, and Geoff’s answering machine he had just listened to! “Hey, Nick!” he called excitedly. “It looks like Jim must have known this Geoff before Sunday night. He has his phone number here, and since Geoff had Jim’s number, I’m guessing they had met somewhere or sometime before Sunday!” As he spoke he hurried into the bedroom where Nick had begun repeating the search he had made at Geoff’s place. Nick was standing at a tall chest of drawers, holding something in his hand and looking at it with a mixture of lack of understanding and curiosity. As Noah entered the room, he turned to his partner with a questioning glance. “I didn’t know Jim was into leather or bondage,” he said, almost as a question. “I don’t know if he is,” replied Noah. “But I guess he could say the same thing about us; he wouldn’t know that we were ‘into’ leather either. What makes you think he is?” “This.” Nick held up the object of his attention. It was a piece of black leather shaped in a semicircle, with metal snaps on either end which allowed it to be joined to form a cone, but with a hole cut from the point of that cone. From the wider edge were suspended three slim chains that joined at a point several inches from the leather itself, and at that connecting point were attached to a smallish lead weight. “A ball parachute!” exclaimed Nick as he held it to Noah for confirmation. The ‘toy’ was designed to be worn so that the narrower end of the cone, where the point had been cut out, wrapped around the wearer’s scrotum, between his nuts and his cock. The leather then flared out to support a weight hanging from it which, when the user was standing, caused the whole thing to drag downwards, pulling his balls away from his body. “I’m surprised the cops didn’t take this with them,” Nick opined. “Probably didn’t even know what it was!” answered Noah quickly. “But it still doesn’t help us find Jim.” “No,” said Nick, his brain ticking over, “but it does suggest that both Jim and this Geoff guy were into leather sex. Maybe they were fuck buddies or something?” “Maybe,” said Noah, wondering what to make of this new possibility. He was also still perplexed by the second set of numbers and letters he had found on the paper wedged inside the atlas. Despite further searching, they could find nothing else of any use to them, and finally admitted defeat for the moment. “I’m starved!” declared Nick as they surveyed the room one more time. “We’re not going to find anything else here. Let’s go and get something to eat.” It was well after lunchtime, and they had been on the go all morning, busily tracking Jim as best they could. “Okay,” agreed Noah as they let themselves out of Jim’s apartment again. Driving home, Nick remained quiet as he watched Noah, his brow furrowed, trying to put the pieces together, but getting nowhere fast. He patted his pocket and smiled to himself. Noah hadn’t noticed him slip the ball parachute into his jacket as they were leaving. **** Back at their own home, they were greeted by a barking, jumping Indiana, determined to let them know of his irritation at having been left alone and ignored all day. He scampered around in circles until Nick opened the back door and allowed him entry. As soon as he gained access to the house a flurry of licks and whimpers demanded attention and Nick obliged, laughing and playing with him while at the same time casting a quick glance at the bowls of water and food to ensure that Indiana had been well provided for in their absence. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about!” Nick remonstrated with the dog in a happy tone. “You have the best of everything, and no concerns at all. If only we could all have life so good!” Slowly Indie calmed down again, satisfied that his ‘dads’ were appropriately chastised. He made a quick tour of the living room to ensure there were no unidentified smells that had arrived since that morning, and settled in a comfortable spot where he could keep an eye on proceedings. Noah scratched the dog playfully behind the ears as Nick made them both a coffee. They sat and drank while their pet tried to decide which of his owners should have the privilege of nursing him. Noah suddenly looked up, struck with a thought. “That employee record we stole!” he said quickly. “Where is it?” “Here,” said Nick, pulling it from his pocket and handing it to his partner. Noah glanced at it and smiled. “I thought so! Geoff’s mother! There’s a phone number and address here for her as his next of kin. We should try her!” Reaching for the telephone, he eagerly called the number shown, and waited as it rang. For almost a minute, he sat and listened to the ringing tones, but no response. “Damn!” he exploded. “No answer, and no machine either.” “Maybe she’s at work?” offered Nick. “Yeah, possibly.” “Well, why don’t we leave it, and drive over there later this afternoon, see if we can catch her at home?” “Okay,” said Noah, resigning himself to another annoying wait. “I feel so useless in the meantime. I wish there was something I could do to keep busy!” Nick smiled an evil look. “You could try this on for me …” he said in a low voice, producing the parachute from his coat and holding out to Noah. Noah looked at the item in surprise, then back to Nick with a face that changed slowly from questioning to irritation, before a lusty curiosity overcame him. “Downstairs …?” he asked. “That’s not the first time you’ve used that word today, you know!” Nick chided his lover. “Yeah?” Noah responded with bemusement. “Well this time it’s a suggestion, not an instruction!” “Oooo, baby,” Nick said in his best Mae West imitation, “why don’t you come downstairs to see me sometime? Ooo.” ***** Below the house, buried away in the cellar, the two men could forget about the time of day, and indeed, could forget about the rest of the world. No light from outside invaded their special place: it was illuminated by dull red globes and candles set around the room in tall holders, wisps of smoke and flickering light adding to the ethereal quality of their dungeon. With several hours to spare, Nick and Noah had quickly descended into their playground and changed from their street clothes into gleaming, tight black leather chaps and harnesses, boots on their feet and a cap on Nick’s head while Noah wore a studded dog collar around his neck. Nick had bent his ‘boy’ over a slave bench in the middle of the room, using handcuffs to fix Noah’s wrists to the front of the bench that held his weight, supporting him from chest to stomach. Noah’s knees were pushed forward, his ankles bound to the legs of the bench by leather restraints while his ‘master’ crouched behind him, drinking in the view presented. In this position, Nick saw a darkened room, filled by Noah in shining black hide, the chaps which gripped his legs framing his white butt at the centre of which was the flexing pink rosebud of his anus. Noah was unable to move from that position even if he had wanted to, which he didn’t. Noah’s genitals were exposed and open, his balls dangling below his waiting pucker, his cock hard as a rock and dribbling seminal ooze. Nick edged closer, smearing a generous amount of lubricant on Noah’s hole and coating a set of anal balls with the same stuff, before firmly introducing them, one at a time, to his slave’s body. One by one the balls were pressed against and through Noah’s sphincter, and with each new insertion the tall blond man murmured his acceptance, moaned with delight and begged for more. When all of the balls had been fed into Noah’s chute, Nick stood back and cast an approving eye over his partner’s rear. The trailing string hung from Noah’s body attached to a chain to ensure it wasn’t completely lost in the throes of passion, and Nick’s cock strained at full erection against the flimsy leather envelope surrounding it and his nuts. Noah, for his part, trembled with the delighted arousal of being filled by the latex covered balls and bound to the bench the way he was. The overlaying sensations of the black leather on his body, the toys sunk within him, and the surrender of freedom to the man who would dominate and use him for sex, had their usual effect. Noah was aroused, incredibly so, excited and needing more. Nick moved to him again, this time with the parachute they had ‘borrowed’ from Jim’s flat. Reaching between Noah’s legs, he pulled the cone of leather around Noah’s scrotum, snapping the press studs closed so that the thing was tight, separating Noah’s testicles from his cock. Then Nick gradually lowered his hand until the parachute was supported only by Noah’s balls, the weight dangling from it swinging in air. The weight on this particular toy was only small, enough to drag the apparatus down and pull at Noah’s gonads, but not sufficient to cause any pain. As Nick completed the setting up, Noah groaned. “Are you okay?” Nick asked with concern. They revelled in this role playing, but had no desire to inflict any pain. “Yessss!” Noah responded. In a hissed breath he explained, “It feels amazing! The pressure on my nuts is like having your hand around them, pulling lightly. It doesn’t hurt at all, just stimulates me so much!” Nick grinned an evil smile. He was turned on himself by seeing Noah like this, spread open and waiting, inviting him to dominate and share their erotic tastes. He stepped in close to his mate, pressing his leather encased tube of manmeat against the bare skin of Noah’s arse, rubbing himself against the waiting hole, stuffed full of the balls. He moved up and down so that his hide bound prick caressed Noah’s rear and bumped against the weighted toy hanging from his nuts. Another gasp of delighted ecstasy escaped Noah. Nick backed away, and walked instead to stand so that his groin was now almost against Noah’s face. With excited need, Noah licked out, running his tongue along the outlined log of cock that throbbed and leaked inside its leather nest. Nick moved again so that Noah could close his lips around the rolling orbs contained within the dark hide below that manhood, and Noah bit firmly but carefully at the rounded shapes, massaging them with his teeth and gums as he chewed on the leather itself. As he did, Nick’s fingers found their way to his nipples, and he pressed his groin forward to have Noah attack it while he leaned his shoulders and head back and pulled at his own tits, trembling with the raging desires fired within him. As his need grew, Nick could wait no longer. He re-positioned himself behind Noah, and took a firm hold on the trailing length of string attached to the balls, pulling firmly. As Noah groaned with delight, Nick tugged at them and with each sphere expelled from his body, Noah breathed a sigh of contentment. Once more Nick rubbed his sheathed member against his partner’s arse, and then he released the caged beast at his groin, flinging away the codpiece he wore, and taking hold of his throbbing tool, he guided it toward the twitching target of Noah’s sphincter. Noah felt the solid velvet of Nick’s cockhead against his entrance, and willed himself to relax. “Fuck me, sir, please!” he hissed to his master. Nick obliged. In one long unbroken motion, he speared himself through Noah’s hole and buried his cock to the hilt within his man’s body. As his pelvis slapped hard against Noah’s rounded cheeks, the weight on the ball parachute swung back and forwards, sending shivering fingers of delight through the prone slave. Noah gasped with the unexpected sensations and clenched himself around Nick’s invading rod. Nick pulled back against the tightened muscles of Noah’s rectum, and pounded in again. His cockhead raced across the nerve endings in Noah’s prostate and his shaft was wrapped with the squelching heat of Noah’s gut as he began to thrust in and out of his boy. Unable to move, or control the fucking, Noah relaxed his body and let the waves of erotic pleasure wash through him. He could feel the pressure pulling at his balls in time with the thumping motion of Nick’s thick prong as it filled his arse. He struggled against the restraints on his wrists and ankles, not because he wanted to be free, but because the very sense of being held in place excited him even more. Nick shoved himself at Noah, fucking his man with a ferocity born of intense desire. His sword of flesh plunged again and again into Noah’s gut, impaling the man below him and owning him completely. Nick’s emotions boiled, his passion engulfed him, and without warning he exploded, his seed drowning Noah’s innards and filling Noah to the brink. With a tormented yell, he wrenched himself from Noah’s body and stepped back, barely able to keep his feet. “Fuck yeah!” he exclaimed. “Oh yesss,” hissed Noah, still lying on the bench, still restrained, his balls aching and his body trembling with need. “Fuck that was good!” Nick looked at his boy with lust-filled eyes. He had climaxed, but was not done yet. With his cock still hard, he quickly released Noah’s bindings and unclipped the parachute from his balls. “Roll over!” he commanded, and Noah obeyed quickly. With Noah now lying on his back, still supported by the slave bench, his cock pointed upwards into space. Nick grabbed a handful of the lubricating cream and slathered it up and down the length of Noah’s shaft. He straddled the bench, and Noah, moving his own hole back toward that inviting javelin aimed at the ceiling. “Fuck me, boy!” he ordered. Without a word, Noah did just that. With Nick’s hand guiding his cock, he braced as he felt the soft flexing entrance to Nick’s arse against his cockhead, then he jabbed upwards just as Nick sat his full weight down onto that spike of flesh. Noah’s prong shot deep into Nick’s bowel and both men howled with pleasure at the sudden and heated union of their bodies. Facing each other now, they could see into the eyes of their mate, and could absorb the erotic sight of bodies striped in black leather, sweat glistening on skin and flickering red light all around. Noah pounded up and in, again and again, while Nick rocked back and forward on his man’s cock, squirming against him and aching with delight at the flesh-covered steel piercing him. As Noah’s movements became frenzied, and his orgasm approached, Nick felt himself reaching his peak yet again, and as Noah grunted then tensed, his body spasming as his load of cum was deposited in Nick’s arse, Nick let fly with another, slightly less abundant, load of cream which drenched Noah’s stomach and coated them both. As they fell against each other, recovering, Nick looked at Noah with his eyes opened wide. “I suppose we have to give the parachute back to Jim?” he asked wistfully. Noah smiled a guilty leer. “I think maybe we should buy him a new one, and keep this for ourselves,” he said. “We might have to tell Jim it just got lost!” ****** Half an hour later, they were still recovering, but had washed and dressed, and were upstairs again, as Noah made them a snack and Nick casually picked up the local gay newspaper, flicking through it disinterestedly. Toward the back of the paper he came across the usual array of classified advertisements. “Listen to some of these ads,” he said with a snort, and began to read a selection to Noah. “‘Overweight bear, into piss and fisting, seeks 20-25 year old cub to learn from me. Must be clean and discreet’.” “Or this one: ‘very good looking 19 year old in search of fit, wealthy 50plus man to show me life’.” “Now he wouldn’t be after a sugar-daddy, would he?” Nick continued chuckling as he read through the long list of pleas for companionship. “Does anyone ever actually answer these things?” he asked. “Sure,” said Noah. “And if both guys are honest, they provide a valuable way for people to meet. The trouble is, a lot of people just aren’t truthful in what they say, so when they do get together one or both are severely disappointed.” “Here’s another one,” continued Nick. “‘Fit 30’s guy, looking to get into the leather scene, sub, wants to meet a dominant experienced man of same age to teach me’.” Noah smiled as he listened, wandering over to stand behind Nick and look down at the paper. Suddenly, his attention was riveted, not to any one advert, but to the numbers assigned to them, which allowed respondents to get in contact with the advertiser through a discreet box system the paper ran. Each ad was followed by a coded number that you quoted when you answered it. With a gasp, Noah grabbed at the sheet of paper he’d found in Jim’s flat, the one with Geoff’s phone number on it. He looked at the other set of numbers written there – cx783093. It was a code for one of the adverts in the paper! Excitedly, Noah explained what he had found to Nick, and between them they began searching through the ads again, this time looking for that precise number. It seemed that the ads were pretty much sequential, but this particular number obviously applied to an ad placed in an earlier edition. “This paper comes out every week,” Nick said. “This one is dated last Friday.” “Do we have the last one around here somewhere?” Noah asked. “Yes, I think we do!” Nick jumped up and checked in the box they kept for recyclables. “Here it is!” he said triumphantly as he held it aloft. Jumping to the classifieds, they searched again, this time with success. ‘Healthy, energetic slave boy required to meet with young Master for several days of mutual pleasure. Experience not required, I’ll teach you all you need to know,’ the ad read. “Shit!” exclaimed Nick. Noah thought about it. “I’m guessing that Geoff placed this ad, and Jim answered it,” he said. “I just hope things didn’t get out-of-hand.” “Maybe they haven’t started yet?” Nick said hopefully but without much assurance. “We really need to find them!” Noah said once again. “I think it’s time we tried Geoff’s mother. Come on, we’ll drive down there; she lives at Kyeemagh, so it’s not that far.” As they made ready to go, Indiana began barking and scratching at them again, protesting their imminent departure. Nick looked at Noah, using his own ‘puppy-dog’ eyes. “Okay,” Noah said resignedly. “He can come for the ride, but you have to hold him, and stay in the car when we get there!” “Okay, boy! You can come!” And with that, Indie scampered after them out the door. To be continued…