Home | Story Index | Rand_Alt LJ | RRambles Yahoo Group | Links | Contact
Point Counterpoint Latest Posts | Point Counterpoint Archives
Printer-friendly page

From an idea suggested by Lady Justice! Happy Valentine's Day to all! Much love, Randall


Brian had never looked forward to Valentine's Day the way he was looking forward to this February 14th. And so was everyone around him. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was in love with Justin, or that they were living together as partners, or even that he finally had someone who made all the sickly sweet sentiments of this Hallmark Holiday have some meaning. No, if anything Justin's constant presence in his life made this waiting even worse. Hearts and flowers and chocolates be damned. On February 14th, his self-imposed sexual hiatus would come to a crashing halt. For the last two weeks, he had experienced no sexual release at all, not even masturbation. And it was because of that god damned motherfucking Nellie bottom, Emmett Hunnicutt!

What seemed like months ago, the gang had been sitting around in their usual booth at the diner, watching Debbie hang naked paper cherubs and strings of lacy hearts in honor of the approaching holiday. This project had been taking priority over their orders, and Brian shouted out a complaint to her.

"Hey Deb! Can we get some food while we're still young? Babylon awaits."

"Sure sweetie," she responded with a smile. "Let me balance my tray on this!" She held up her middle finger and Brian rolled his eyes at Michael.

"The help they attract to places like this! It's disgraceful."

Michael smiled and leaned his head against Ben's shoulder. "You know how she is about decorating for the holidays. Any holiday."

"I'll go see if the orders are up," Justin volunteered, climbing over Brian and Emmett to go check with the kitchen. He called out to Debbie on his way, "I'll bring our orders to the table, Deb. You keep doing what you're doing."

"Thanks Sunshine! I'll split the tip, but seeing who's in that booth, a quarter won't get you far! Cheap faggots."

"He is so sweet," Emmett said admiringly, following the image of Justin's slim ass as he walked away.

Brian smirked at him. "Have you ever seen his face? I don't think I've ever seen you look above his waist."

Emmett offered him a withering smile. "Jealous, much? That is not true. For instance, I know his nipple is pierced."

"Oh yeah," Brian agreed. "I forgot that you would have noticed his tits by now."

"He is adorable, Brian," Ted said with a sigh. " Blond twinks are always adorable."

"Blake," Michael and Emmett mouthed silently across the table. Justin began delivering the orders, then sat down next to Emmett and served himself.

"Oh! I just thought of my answer!" Michael said suddenly.

"What was the question?" Ben asked and he replied,

"The funniest sitcom episode of all time. I said I had to juggle a couple of ideas. But I know now."

"That was two conversations ago," Brian observed wryly and Michael glared at him.

"I left the door open. It was the ‘Master of my Domain' show on Seinfeld. Where Jerry and the others held a contest to see who could abstain from sex the longest. Any kind of sex, including masturbation."

Brian winced. "Obviously everyone on that show is playing a straight character."

"Brian couldn't go twenty-four hours," Justin teased, leaning over Emmett to catch Brian's eye, ignoring his warning glare. "One time his doctor told him to abstain for twenty-four hours because of some prostate test or something..."

"Shut UP!" Brian reached across Emmett to slap the back of Justin's head, but he ducked the slap and went on as Michael wrapped his finger in a napkin and wiggled it at Brian as if imitating a doctor about to penetrate his ass. Brian threw a roll at him.

"Anyway," Justin continued. "So I get up that morning and Brian is whacking off in the shower."

"I was not whacking off. I was washing my dick. Briskly."

"So briskly you didn't even hear me come in to pee. Anyway, I got in with him and said, ‘Your doctor told you not to come for 24 hours' and Brian goes ‘He got twelve and a half. It's a new world record'."

They all laughed as Brian glared at Justin and said, "And then you sucked me off."

Justin shrugged. "You were going to anyway. You would so lose that contest."

"Look who's talking? Mr. Gets Wood Watching Paint Dry."

"Who do you think could hold out the longest in our little group?" Emmett wondered aloud and they all glanced at each other.

"Masturbation counts, right?" Brian clarified. They all agreed it did. "In that case, not Ted, who would have been my first choice. He's gone dog years without interactive sex."

"Thanks as always for your vote of confidence, Brian. I would vote for Ben," Ted concluded.

Ben glanced over at him, confused. "Why me? Low libido? I think um, a COUPLE of people at this table could assure you I have a normal libido."

Brian laughed and held up his palm for a long distance high five as Michael glared at them. "Ben is a sex machine, Ted," Michael said defensively.

"I'm sure he is, but he's also a Zen master, and I think he could use all those far eastern meditation techniques to hold out," Ted explained.

Ben laughed. "It would be interesting to find out."

"So why don't we?" Emmett insisted.

"Why don't we what?" Ted asked.

"See who can hold out the longest? We'll set a deadline, just so it won't get too competitive, let's say Valentine's Day! Perfect! The love holiday! And we all donate money and then as one person falls out, they have to match the pot, like a guts game in poker. The winner or winners get to split the proceeds on Valentine's Day."

"Why would I want to give up sex for a few hundred bucks?" Brian insisted. "Life's too short, never waste an erection."

"Don't worry about it, Brian," Emmett said coolly. "You'll be out the first day."

"Fuck you, Emmett. I happen to be a very disciplined person and if I wanted to give it up for two weeks, I would. And could. But why should I?"

Justin leaned around Emmett to give Brian a worried look. "Then don't. It's not fair to us. Brian and I are a couple. We live together, sleep together. We're supposed to have sex."

"Hello?" Michael reminded him. "So are Ben and I."

"And so are Teddy and I which makes it even. We all put in fifty bucks. That's three hundred. First one out, matches it with three hundred of their own money, and so on until Valentine's Day. If we're all winners, we get our fifty back."

"I don't want to play that dumb game," Justin sulked. "And I don't have the money."

"Don't you worry, Sunshine," Emmett patted his hand gently. "Daddy does." He looked over at Brian who laughed.

"But I'm a lot younger than you guys, which puts me at a disadvantage, because I'm hornier."

"I'll drink to that," Brian said, draining his glass of Coke.

"It won't matter, kid. You and Brian will go out the first day, which just leaves a richer pot for the rest of us."

"This is just your way of not having to sleep with Teddy," Brian teased and Ted glared at him. "Do tricks count?"

Justin leaned over Emmett again and flipped a french fry at Brian, using his spoon as a catapult. "This is not your excuse to start tricking again, big guy."

"I'm just asking," Brian said with mock seriousness.

"How will we police it?" Michael asked and Ben sighed.

"Surely we can rely on personal integrity. If you fall off the wagon, you fess up. It's that simple. I'm in," he peeled off a fifty dollar bill and laid it on the table. "I can use that prize money. Mikey and I are planning a trip to the mountains."

"Well if you're in, I'm obviously in," Michael said with a sigh, then glanced at Ben after shuffling through his wallet. "I need to borrow twenty."

Ben laughed and put it in as Ted sighed and withdrew his wallet. "What the hell? They say abstinence is good for the soul." He looked over at Emmett. "It was your idea, Em. Go for it."

"I'm in," Emmett said cheerfully, adding to the growing pot. Justin crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's a dumb game."

All eyes were on Brian, who frowned. "Another clarification..."

They all groaned and Emmett sighed. "It's simple, Brian. You can't come. You can watch porn, you can even jerk off, or jerk off some, shall we say, blond twink, or suck said blond twink's dick, but you yourself can NOT come. If you spew, you're through."

"Thank you Johnnie Cochran," Brian opened a money clip and counted off bills. "Here's a hundred, fifty for me and fifty for Justin. And here's three hundred for Justin dropping out because, trust me, he won't last a day."

Justin grinned at him and Emmett motioned Debbie over. He folded up the bills and handed them to her. "Will you be our banker, Deb? Not that we don't trust each other, but we don't trust each other."

She counted the money and stuck it down her shirtfront. Brian winced. "Safer than Fort Knox."

"What's this for, boys?"

Emmett explained and she laughed. "You stiff dicks? God, this won't last through Wednesday! Surely you're not in on it, Kinney!"

Brian smiled sweetly at her. "Much to your surprise, I can control myself, Deb."

"Uh-huh, for as long as it takes you to open those buttons on your jeans! Good luck to you fellas, and may the hardest man win!"

"Other way around," Michael said glumly, and that was how it started.

By now, Brian had alienated his staff, the guy who washed and gassed his car, his dry cleaners and almost all of his friends. Cynthia walked on egg shells as she entered his office. "Do you have a minute?" She asked meekly, expecting to get her head handed to her. Brian waved her into a chair across the desk from him and she sighed. "I've been nominated to find out if there's anything any of us can do to help."

He looked confused. "Help with what?"

"With whatever is bothering you."

"Nothing is bothering me. Why do you say that?"

"Because for some time now, you've been a terror in the office, and it seems to be getting worse."

He smiled and leaned back, mentally re-running his mood. "You could get that cute intern to come in here and give me head."

"Excuse me?"

He smiled. "Joke. The problem is, my body is flooded with testosterone and as you know that particular hormone is a poison. I guess it's slowly killing me, which puts me in a bad mood."

"Why the hormonal imbalance?"

"Because I haven't had sex in four days and let's see, eleven hours."

Cynthia laughed. "So? I haven't had sex since I broke up with Johnny. That was four months ago."

"Including masturbation," he added and she winced.

"Oh. Ouch. Why? You and Justin fighting?"

"No," he went on to describe the bet and she laughed.

"I love that episode of Seinfeld! Elaine sees JFK Jr. at the gym and that does her in. Has anyone dropped out?"

"Justin dropped the first night. I knew he would, so I just put the money in for him."

"But how does that work if your partner is off the wagon and you're still trying to win?"

"I'll tell you how it works. It doesn't. He can beat off on his own, of course, but most of the time we end up fooling around and I make him shoot and then...nothing. I have to lie there, waiting for the sun to set, the sail to be struck, the tent to fold up."

She laughed at his imageries. "Just drop out!"

"No! None of them believe I can do it! I'm going to show them they're wrong. I have discipline."

"Brian, you have a private bathroom off your office. Here, I was just bringing you these, they should help," she handed him the slicks for a new ad campaign for a tanning lotion. The campaign featured hunks in tiny swimsuits, this angle aimed at the gay market. Brian looked at a couple of them, then groaned and leaned back in his chair.

"What are you? A sadist?"

"Help yourself out! Who would know?"

"I would know," he said glumly. "It's an integrity issue."

"What if you have an erotic dream?"

He shrugged. "We all agreed if you have a wet dream, count yourself lucky. It won't be held against you. But you have to be totally asleep and thus not in control. You can't just think erotic thoughts and rub your dick against the sheets until the friction gets you off. Problem is, you can't pre-program a wet dream. Believe me, I've tried."

"Has anyone other than Justin dropped out?"

"Oh yeah," he said with a chuckle, recalling a scene at the diner two days earlier. He and Justin were having lunch when Michael walked in, went straight up to Deb and handed her a check made out to cash for six-hundred dollars. After she took it from him, depositing it in her bra-bank, he slumped on the bench across from the couple, his expression glum.

"I hope you're happy. This means Ben has to win, or we won't be able to take that trip."

"Not my idea," Brian said with a grin. "What happened, Mikey? Captain Astro get a boner and you couldn't contain yourself another minute?"

"Captain Astro is dead, remember? It was Lavaman, of all people."


"I got the latest edition of Lavaman at the shop today. They have a new artist. I thought something was different about Lavaman, and then I realized instead of just having a kind of BLOB in the crotch of his pants, you could really see where his dick was outlined. I noticed it in every frame. And then all of a sudden I realized my dick was in my hand and well...POW!"

Brian smirked at him. "Another victim of Lavaman's evil magna flow! I hope your customers enjoyed the spectacle."

"I was in the backroom, smart ass."

"I think that's storage room, not back room, Mikey," Brian teased and Michael laughed.

"Sorry, but I guess when you're getting off in it, it's all back room. So, am I supposed to believe you two are still not...?"

Justin grinned at him. "I am, he's not."

"How nice for you," Michael prodded Brian who frowned.

"I'm getting tired of servicing the young master, here, while I have to sleep on a baton."

Justin beamed at his lover. "Wouldn't want you to lose your touch."

"Well, I'm not torturing Ben. We need this money now if we're going to take that vacation."

"Don't use sympathy on me, Mikey. It won't work. I intend to win."

"Sure Brian, but don't forget. Even if Ben falls, the low libido twins, Em and Ted are still standing. Both of them."

At that moment, Ted walked in. He went over to Deb, asked her a question, winced at her answer, wrote her a check and walked out. She waved the check at the three in the booth and they exchanged a look, then sent Justin out to retrieve Ted. The two finally returned and Ted slumped in the booth beside Michael.

"I planned to come in earlier," Ted said glumly. "But I procrastinated and as a result, I had to pay six-hundred extra dollars, thanks to your weakness, Michael."

"My weakness? What about your weakness? What's your story?"

Ted sighed. "I made the mistake of cleaning up the condo."

"Your condo is always clean," Justin observed and Ted shook his head.

"Not since Emmett is there so much. He's the messiest queen in Pittsburgh. He was asleep in the bedroom, and I was picking up and rearranging in the main room last night. Anything to keep my mind off you know what. I came across a blank videotape."

"What a surprise. Teddy's fall involved pornography. What IS the world coming to?" Brian said with a badly faked hopeless look and Ted glared at him.

"Actually it wasn't a porn tape, Brian. And I should make you pay for part of my penalty, because it was really your fault."

"Of course," Brian said with a wry smile. "Everything since the fall of Rome has been my fault. Spill."

"Remember that house party at the Hamptons a couple years ago? We both ended up as guests?" Brian nodded. Ted continued. "Well, remember I had just gotten my video camera?"

"I remember your driving everyone nuts with it."

"Well, this was footage from that party. There's this one scene...you come out of the house. A bunch of us were on the deck, sunning. You have on shades and a speedo and nothing else. You looked really hot."

"Of course," Brian teased. "Keep going."

"You stood there, leaning on the railing, looking out at the sea, and I slowly moved the camera up your body from your feet, which are perfect by the way, to your ass and up your back. One of the guys starts rubbing suntan lotion on you. All over you. You lean back with your arms on the rail and let him work. You throw your head back. The sun hits your hair as the wind lifts and ruffles it. And then the guy pulls down the front of your suit and out falls that huge schlong of yours and he starts sucking it. Well, you put your hand over the lens of the camera, but it was too late for me. I spewed."

Justin giggled. "You jerked off to Brian?"

Brian smirked at him. "Like everyone in this booth hasn't done so."

They all exchanged a look. It was true. Finally Michael said, "You most of all."

"Well, sure, I have to live with this male perfection day in and day out," Brian teased and Justin giggled, leaning over to kiss him.

"Me too. This is cool, Brian. You eliminated one of the contenders. Now there's just one guy left from each team. What will we do with the money if we win?"

"We?" Brian repeated. "First of all, I'm the one who put in the ante for both of us. I'm the one who paid your fine to go out. And I'm the only one who has sacrificed anything for the contest."

"Not true. I had to sacrifice not getting to blow you or feel your dick inside me for more than one minute..."

"Wait! You're fucking him? That's not fair!" Michael insisted and Brian shrugged.

"It's the shooting that disqualifies you. Not the fooling around."

"And we're supposed to believe that you put your dick in Justin's hole and don't come?"

"He doesn't," Justin defended. "I don't know how he does it either, but he doesn't come. He stops."

"And throbs," Brian added. "Let's change the subject. So when did this jerk off fest start, Teddy?"

"Last night and ended about an hour ago when I was too sore to touch it. I will say, I progressed from your body to hard core."

"Two to go," Justin said, patting Brian's arm gently and Brian leaned over to kiss him hotly, his juices flowing, but sadly, with nowhere to go.

Back in the office, Cynthia smiled at Brian. "So you have to outlast Ben and Emmett?"


"I don't really know Ben, but having met Emmett at various functions, I'd say you have a tough job ahead of you. He doesn't appear to be brimming with testosterone."

"Don't kid yourself," Brian countered. "There are few things hornier than a raving Queen with a hard on! Now let's get back to work before I tear that suit off of you and ravish you on my desk."

She laughed. "Promises, promises."

They lost themselves in the work.

That evening, when Brian came home, Justin greeted him with a glass of wine and a candlelit table setting. Something divine was filling the kitchen with its aroma, and Brian gave him a quizzical look. "It's not my birthday. What's this all about?"

Justin smiled. "I'm going to make you so happy tonight, Brian."

"I'm not quitting now, you demon spawn sent to earth to tempt me." Brian teased as he carried his glass of wine into the bedroom and began undressing. Justin sprawled on the bed, propped up on his elbows, watching. "Today in my human sexuality class, they talked about tantric sex. Ever heard of it?"

Brian shrugged, stepping into a pair of jeans without underwear. He then pulled on a black wifebeater. "I'm listening."

"It's this Asian technique, I think, where the man prolongs his erection by having an orgasm but no ejaculation. Wouldn't that be great? You could come but still be in the game."

Brian looked askance. "Riiight."

An hour later he was stretched out naked on the bed, surrounded by glowing candles on every flat surface within three feet of the bed. Burning incense perfumed the area, and Ravi Shankar was playing on the sound system. Justin sat cross-legged and naked before him and urged him to assume the same position. "It's all about separating the orgasm from the ejaculation."

"And I suppose you've done this successfully?" Brian asked as he shrugged.

"Well, not exactly, but you have more control and it's all about control. You extend the peak of sexual satisfaction and prolong the ecstasy and you can have several orgasms without shooting. Sting practices tantric sex."

"That might explain a lot about his music. I keep waiting for the pay off."

"Brian, you have to be serious."

"Okay, okay, what do I do?"

"First, we harmonize our breathing. You gaze into my eyes and we watch each other breathe and slowly we begin breathing with the same rhythm."

Brian raised a brow and Justin sighed. "Seriously, if you don't want to try..."

"I do, I do. I'd do Sting right now if I thought I could have an orgasm and still be in the game."

For several minutes they breathed and watched, and ultimately began breathing in and out on the same stroke. Justin spoke. "This is the good part. We start touching each other, all the time retaining eye contact. Eye contact is key."

"Touching each other where?"

"Anywhere that feels pleasurable, but not concentrating on the genitals to the exclusion of the rest. Not driving towards an orgasm. But keep looking at me."

"Do we have to keep breathing the same way?"

"Not right now, breathing comes in later."

"You learned this in school?"

"No, I learned about it in school, but I bought a book on it at the sex shop."

Brian smiled. That made more sense. They stretched out and began touching each other gently, their eyes locked. When he felt his heat begin to rise, Brian moved in to kiss him hotly and Justin smiled and rolled him back on the bed. "When it gets strong like that, stop. When you start to breathe rapidly, it's increasing your sex drive. What we're trying to do is maintain this plateau of sexual excitement without going over into results. Wait," he left and came back with a strip of black velvet and a peacock feather. Brian stared balefully at him.

"What the fuck?"

"You trust me, don't you?"

"Yeah, but this looks like a queer episode of Red Shoe Diaries is coming up."

"Just relax," Justin positioned the black velvet blindfold over Brian's eyes and tied it loosely. "Can you see anything?"

"Nothing," Brian admitted, feeling his arousal intensify with this little game. So much for eye contact. Justin straddled him and Brian felt the feather touch his brow with a delicacy that couldn't be described. If he didn't know better, he would swear it was the invisible fingers of the wind. The tickle moved down his nose, his chin, across his lips. He felt his nerve endings strain at this phantom touch, and his nipples grow hard as his dick grew harder. "That feels good," he admitted, as the feather swept over his collarbone, his shoulder, down his arm and across his open palm.

"Slow down your breathing," Justin whispered to him. "Force it to normalize."

Brian did so, breathing deeply, squirming as the feather touched his nipples and pecs and traveled down his belly. One stroke across his pubes and then Justin shifted his position, and touched the feather to the soles of Brian's feet, causing him to shudder. "You're killing me."

"Start practicing this, Brian. There are these muscles called the PC muscles that run from your pubic bone to your tailbone. They control sexual contractions when you come. They also control the flow of urine when you cut it off for some reason. Tighten them up for a few seconds and then release them. Do that a few times. You feel it?"

Brian tried it and winced. "It's not easy."

"I know, it gets easier if you do it every day, the book says. Get accustomed to the feel of that, and when you feel close to shooting tell me, and tighten those muscles. We'll stop until it subsides."

The gentle stroke of the feather brought Brian close to orgasm more than once, only to coast down again by relying on a brief pause in the stimulus and deep breathing. For forty-five minutes they kept it going, and Brian had never felt more alive, with every part of his body participating in this game, not just his prick and balls. Every time Justin touched him, he felt the waves of pleasure begin and he rode them as close to the brink as he could before forcing himself to retreat. Finally, Justin spread out at an angle to Brian's body, posing his head over Brian's dick. The blindfold was still in place. Brian was enjoying the out-of- body feeling it gave him.

"I've never seen your dick so swollen," Justin said softly. "I'm going to put my tongue on it, Brian. When you feel the orgasm begin, take a deep breath and clamp down real hard on those PC muscles. The trick is, you'll have the orgasm, but your muscles will prevent the flow of your ejaculation."

"It won't work."

"Try it."

Brian steeled himself as Justin began to lick his swollen shaft, then slipped it into the warm wet sheath of his mouth and throat. The impact was almost unbearable. The undulations preceding his release were immediate and Brian gasped, and inhaled deeply, squeezing his PC muscles as tightly as he could, so hard that he was shaking. The pleasure came in waves, the utter relief of orgasm pounding through his body in hard spasms, but his cock stayed dry.

He fell back on the pillow, raising the blindfold as he stared down at Justin, who moved off of his hard phallus. Justin grinned up at him. "Was it good?"

"It was fabulous, baby. But one thing."


"My dick is still hard."

"Yeah, you still have your load. See, you can have multiple orgasms this way, like a girl."

"Uh-huh, but what does the book say about the fact I'm still hard?"

Justin grimaced. "Well, in the book, you'd have one or two orgasms and then you'd ejaculate on the last one."

"You kind of left that part out," Brian said tensely.

"Uh, well...it'll just go away, I guess."

"You guess? My dick weighs about twenty pounds right now, Justin. If I blew my load, I'd knock a hole in the brick. How comfortable do you think I am?"

"Sorry. I thought you'd be glad to have the orgasm. Want me to finish you off? We don't need the money. We can concede."

"It's not the money, it's the principle," Brian insisted. "They all think I have no self-control, and I want to prove them wrong."

"What should we do?"

"We? I suggest you go whack off. I'm going to turn off the light and pray for a wet dream."

"Sorry," Justin pleaded as Brian pulled a pillow over his head, drifting to sleep in search of the wet dream that never happened.

February 11th

Brian came home from work, typically surly. Justin greeted him cautiously. "Mikey and Ted and I are going to a movie tonight, Brian. We all need a break from our grumpy roommates," he hesitated, and then added. "You want to go?"

"Count on it," Brian said gruffly, opening a bottle of water and sucking it down. "I figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

"Who my competition is. It's Ben. Emmett hates deadlines and will crash at the last minute. Ben is employing his Zen techniques as Ted puts it. It's definitely Ben."

Justin sighed. Since his failed tantric sex lessons, he had tried to give Brian a wide sexual berth. He now understood how important it was to him to win, and he didn't want to be blamed for pushing him off the cliff. He'd even backed off having Brian pleasure him, insisting he could rely on himself until the contest was over. Anything more seemed unfair. After Justin left for the movie, Brian put on some soothing music, lit a joint and stretched out under the blue lights, wearing only his sweats. He picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number. Ben answered on the third ring.

"So you didn't go to the movie either?" Brian observed.

"Oh, hi. No, I don't think I was invited."

"I got the polite invitation, but I'm not interested. Weaklings. Let them hang out together, the self-indulgent bastards."

Ben laughed. "No shit! So, how's it going, Brian?"

"Couldn't be better. You, Ben?"

"I'm swell."

"Yeah, I'm swollen too," Brian said with a laugh. Ben laughed too.

"It's a ridiculous bet," Ben insisted.

"I know. But now I'm totally into it."

"Me too."

"You know, I've had the weirdest fantasies since this began," Brian began.

"Weird in what way?" Ben asked and Brian smiled.

"Just random, strange little things occur to me. Wishes, porn flicks, memories."

"Given the deprivation, that doesn't seem so weird to me, Brian."

"No, maybe not. One thing I remembered was the White Party where we hooked up. It just floated to the surface."

"Hum, that's interesting," Ben said with a smile. "What memory popped up?"

"Remember how they told us your room wasn't ready yet, and we'd have to wait for two hours so we went to my hotel, because we weren't interested in waiting?"

"I remember going to your hotel, I just don't remember LEAVING your hotel!"

Brian laughed. "We came up for air occasionally."

"Is that what you call it? It's the only time I've come home from Florida paler than when I left."

"Did you ever tell Mikey what we did?"

"Some of it. He wouldn't let up until I gave him some details."

"What kind of details?"

"On your legendary fucking style."

"Umm, that sounds interesting," Brian said with a smile. "What details?"

"Oh, for instance the way you kept fucking me even after you came."

"It wouldn't have been polite to do otherwise since you hadn't unloaded that gun yet, Ben. Know what I remember?"


"How hot you looked with your arms spread out and wrists tied to the bedposts. Your torso was so hard, so cut...just looking at it was a wet dream."

"You weren't so hard to take yourself, and the attitude, God, how I loved your bitch-stud attitude!"

"Hey, I just told you what I wanted and how I wanted it."

"Yeah, but it's the way you do it, Brian. Hot."

"We fit. I spent a lot of time memorizing that hard body of yours with my tongue and my hands even before my dick got into the act. I knew that in order to penetrate you, I'd have to pry open your ass, your butt is so tight. Christ, that felt good on the ol' nine inches."

"One of the few men who DOESN'T exaggerate his size. You were just rough enough, Brian. You made me believe it was inevitable, but I never feared for my safety. And you treated me like a man, not a flower. You shoved it in forcefully and stuck that long tongue of yours halfway down my throat."

"I had to battle so hard to penetrate you, I came much faster than I usually would. The friction was unbearably erotic."

Ben moaned softly. "God, your skin was so hot, so firm, and when you shot your wad, I thought SHIT! I don't want it to be over, but it wasn't. Far from it."

"Umm," Brian slid his hand down his belly, squeezing his own cock that had begun to lengthen as his plan to arouse Ben backfired slightly. He could hear the throaty sexuality enter Ben's voice and suspected his hand had found a similar resting place of its own. "I was motivated to keep going."

"You never lost your erection."

"I know, I was so hot for you. Whoops, it seems to have found its way home again."

"Yeah, mine too."

"Damn, funny how that happens. I remember the surprised look on your face when you felt my cock start moving in you again, despite my orgasm."

"I wondered if you had mastered the tantric techniques of multiple orgasms without ejaculation."

Brian winced. "Don't go there. No, I blew a sizeable wad into that Trojan, man. Remember how I took one minute between lunges? That was to change it out for a fresh one. I've never had a condom that can reliably hold two full loads."

"Not the way you shoot, Brian."

"Exactly," he stroked his erection once and then stopped, willing it to go away. It just stretched out on his belly like a recalcitrant Komodo Dragon, twitching on a sunny rock, waiting for something to happen. "When you hit it, you got so tight around my dick, and the contractions of your orgasm were so intense, I could barely keep control. But I did, and I just kept going. Nothing could stop me. All I ever wanted at that moment was my fat cock up your tight ass."

Ben groaned. "You were relentless. I wondered if I'd be able to survive the intensity. I came once, but you kept stroking me..."

"I know. I felt your blow hit, and it just spurred me on. We were covered in sweat by now. God knows how much time had passed. You stretched your foot out on my calf and dug your other heel behind my knee...we were locked together...rocking..."

"Jesus," Ben said breathlessly, not even trying to conceal his masturbation. "You zeroed in on my prostate, and the pressure of your thick dick on that gland, milking it with each lunge was almost unbearable it was so exquisite. Over and over and over again, sending shockwaves up the length of my cock."

"Oh yeah, and then you hit it again. That second time really rocked my world! I felt like a stud master, biting your hard lats and biceps and neck, drilling you to the bed..."

"I've never been fucked like that, Brian. Not before and not since. It was...incredible."

"For me too."

"And I remember wanting to put my hands on your fine ass so badly, but I was restrained so all I could do was look down and try to focus on it as it shoved your penis deeper and deeper into my body...Christ, Brian, I can still feel it... your cock...my ass...the fucking..."

"Me too, and I kept going, Ben, until you hit a third bullseye and only then did I let it blow. I came so hard, they must have heard me scream three floors down! I came so hard I thought I might just stab straight through your abdomen and come out your navel."

"Oh god, it was...it was...SHIT!"

Brian smiled. "Ben? What's wrong?"


"You shit? That's nasty."

"You know exactly what I did and why. You diabolical bastard."

Brian laughed. "I don't know what you mean. We were just enjoying a little trip down memory lane. Nothing wrong with that."

Ben moaned. "You made me come, you bastard! It's all over me, about $2400.00 worth of sperm all over my stomach and chest."

Brian sighed. "You're so suspicious, Ben."

"And of course you didn't..."

"You know me. I can hold it forever."

"Sadly, I do know that. Hats off to you, Brian. You eliminated a contender. One to go. My sympathies to Emmett."

Brian smiled. "Later, Ben," he hung up the phone, well pleased with the way his plan worked out.

February 13th

Brian and Emmett faced each other over lunch at Brian's favorite sushi restaurant. Brian found Emmett's calm demeanor annoying. "So, it looks as if we're going to split the pot, Em," he said coolly.

"Looks like. We just have to make it to 12:01. Still, $1200.00 each is not bad."

"Way not worth it. What do you plan to do with it?"

"I'm putting it in our house fund. Teddy and I still want to buy that little love nest. How about you?"

"There's a Prada jacket I have my eye on."

"Of course. One can't have enough Prada jackets. Are you sticking to your asshole ways or are you getting Justin something for Valentine's Day?"

Brian smiled slightly. "Oh, I have something for Justin, alright."

"I didn't mean THAT."

"Whether I do or not, it's between Justin and me."

Emmett met his eyes. "That had better mean yes."

"It means what I said. How are you doing it, Em?"

"Abstaining? I think happy thoughts and elevate my mind. You?"

"I don't know. I honestly do not know how. But I'm not a happy camper."

"And I presume your baby stud is not so happy himself, but then..."


"Well, he's not restricted, is he?"



Brian glared at him, then smiled. "You are so not using my own psychological games on me, Emmett. "

"Games? Who? Me?"


Emmett laughed. "What a revelation."

"You better watch it or I'll start testifying to the big sale they're having at Saks. You'll cream all over yourself."

The two competitors laughed, neither one of them budging at all from their stance.

That evening, Brian left work early, unable to concentrate. He was plagued with thoughts of what he and Justin would be doing at 12:01 a.m. He started throwing boners like an adolescent at the community swimming pool. Arriving home at this hour, he didn't expect to find Justin at home, but he was wrong about that. His music blasting, he was seated at the dining table, which was littered with papers, pictures, ribbon, glitter, decals and a host of decorative items. He looked adorable in his jeans and a red t-shirt, his feet clad only in socks. Brian entered quietly and snuck up on him to see what held his concentration.

A red leather photo album was open on the table and Justin was fixated on a page from the album. Centered on it was a photo of the two of them dancing at the prom. Brian had never seen that photo before, had no idea it even existed. They were in a tight clench, both staring into each other's eyes and smiling like madmen, they were so wrapped up in each other. Justin had carefully applied fancy lettering to place a date and to affix a lyric, "Don't forget who's taking you home and in who's arms you're gonna be...". He also decorated it with mylar hearts and music notes and a white ribbon.

"Where did you get that?" Brian snatched it up, startling him.

"Nooo!" Justin tried to grab it back, then tried futilely to hide the materials on the table. Finally, he turned to Brian in frustration and said, "What are you doing here? It's early! You're ruining my surprise!"

"Where did you get this picture?" Brian held it away from his reach, admiring it.

Justin gave up with a sigh and sat down heavily at the table, deflated by the ruination of his plan. "Someone at the dance took it. They held onto it after the bashing, and then forgot about it. Going through some things, they recently found it and thought I might want it. You ruined everything, Brian."

"What is ‘everything'? What are you doing?"

"It's your Valentine's Day present." He sighed. "You may as well look at it now, the surprise is ruined."

Brian sat at the table as Justin pushed the red album in his direction. On the front page was another prom picture, this one a close up, almost a silhouette of the two of them in a dance pose, their faces close together, a blue light behind them. Justin had framed it in a large cut out of a lacy heart and the lettering read "Brian and Justin, Our Story". Brian opened it to find photos of himself as a small boy and of Justin at a similar age. "Where did you get these pictures of me?"

"Your mom gave them to me. Michael gave me a couple of the teenaged ones."

"You visited my mom?"

"To get the pictures, yeah. I called her first."

"That was brave."

"She was fine."

Brian looked at pictures of him in varying soccer uniforms and Justin in costumes for school plays. Brian with Mikey, Justin with Daphne. And then various candids of the two of them. At the bar in Babylon. Dancing at Babylon. Eating at Deb's. Kissing on the couch at David's house. Playing around at the loft. Pictures of each of them and both of them with Gus. Brian had no clear memory of when each of these photos was taken, but he saw that a lot of work went into framing each one and decorating the page appropriately. It was corny, it was not Brian, but it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for him. He felt genuinely choked up by it, and he took a moment to recover his cool, before he said,

"It's really...really..."

Justin tensed. "I know. Ridiculously romantic and silly." He got up from the table and went into the kitchen, feeling deflated and sad. He began to rattle pans around as he announced, "I thought I'd cook tonight. I'm tired of going out. How does baked chicken sound? It takes it awhile to bake, so..."

Brian walked into the kitchen and put his hands on Justin's shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. "It's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, Justin. My own parents never took the time to gather pictures of me as a kid into an album, and then to have pictures of you at the same stages of life and of us...it's...I really don't know what to say. I'm...moved." It was the kind of thing only someone as young and artistic as Justin would dare to do, an act so alien to Brian he couldn't even conceive of the idea. He felt an odd blend of grateful lover and proud parent while examining Justin's handiwork.

"You are?"

"I am."

"You don't think it's sickeningly sweet?"

"Yes, but I love you for that. And I love...I, um, love you for doing it."

"Oh Brian," Justin seldom heard those words and when he did, they melted him completely. He threw his arms around Brian, kissing him deeply. Brian kissed him back and danced him into the bedroom, throwing him back on the bed. "It's not midnight yet," Justin said softly and Brian smiled as he began shedding his clothes.

"Don't worry, Cinderella. This is the day your prince is definitely going to come."

"But the money..."

Brian climbed on top of him, silencing him with a kiss. The purpose of the bet suddenly seemed beyond silly compared to how badly he wanted to be intimate with the man he loved.

Ferbruary 14th

As prearranged, the three couples met for an elegant dinner in the fancy private dining club where Brian was a member. Champagne chilled in the bucket and filled their crystal flutes that they raised to each other in a salute.

"To Brian and Emmett, the Iron Men of Pittsburgh," Ted said with a smile. "Or maybe less iron-like since midnight, yesterday, at least that's when Emmett threw in the towel, and I'm sure you were right there with him, Brian. You look far too relaxed to be waiting for tonight."

Brian glanced at Justin and smiled, reaching in his pocket and handing Emmett a check. "As a matter of fact, we didn't make it to midnight."

Laughter around the table and then Michael glared at his friend. "Why wait til the last minute and then cave? It was just hours away!"

"Because something more important than winning a bet intervened. I proved what I wanted to prove, the money was never the lure for me. This way Em and Teddy are that much closer to their dream house, and I'm... well, I'm that much closer to Justin."

Michael rolled his eyes at that remark, but Justin leaned over to kiss Brian as Emmett and Ted applauded them. "So what did he give you, Justin?" Emmett asked and Justin sighed.

"You know Brian isn't big on holidays, Em. It's fine though. We had a wonderful night and now this dinner and the champagne and..."Justin was trying very hard to defend Brian's giftless policy while his friends glared at his lover.

"Oh shut up, you little twat," Brian said gruffly and reached in his pocket, removing a package wrapped in white paper and a red ribbon. Justin lit up.

"For ME?"

"No, it's for your sister. Jesus, just open it ."

Justin tore off the paper, revealing a red leather box. Emmett gasped. "CARTIER'S!" he said, immediately recognizing the box like the true label queen that he was. Justin unsnapped the cover and folded back both sides to reveal a slim cuff bracelet.

"Ohh, I love it! I love silver!" He exclaimed, and Brian sighed.

"I hope you love platinum too, since that's what it is."

An appreciative murmur went through the audience and Justin winced, not even wanting to guess what this cost. "It's engraved on the inside," Brian added.

"Read it aloud!" Emmett insisted and Brian glared at him.

"If you do, I'll bean you with it."

Justin moved the candle on the table closer, so he could read the writing to himself. Another lyric from "Save the Last Dance For Me". It read, "I will never, ever let you go...love, B". Justin's eyes filled with tears as he slipped it on and wound his arms around Brian's neck, kissing him deeply, for a long, lingering time. The others finally began to cough and make loud conversation to interrupt them, and they reluctantly separated, still clutching hands under the table.

"Here's to love," Ted said. "The one emotion that can make even Brian Kinney into a sap."

"To love," the others agreed.

"Whatever the hell that means," Brian added, even though he knew.


Disclaimer: The television show Queer As Folk and its characters are the property of Showtime and CowLip Productions. No money is being made. Stories and discussion are intended purely for the entertainment of fans of Queer as Folk, the Brian and Justin characters, and Randall's writings.
Contact Site Admin with questions or technical problems.

July 25, 2004