Sixty Tricks in Sixty Days Parts 8-11
Once they were alone in his suite, Adrian took Brian's lapels in hand and pulled him up against his body, kissing him with such ferocity that Brian felt his whole body respond. Tongue was offered and gratefully accepted, hands roved, explored, as the kiss continued.
"I'm a top," Brian felt like he had to make that point when they finally surfaced. Adrian had the imprint of a predatory top. Brian knew it because he recognized those traits in himself. He wanted to stake his preferences early, so there would be no disappointment later. He knew it didn't really have to matter, that fucking was just part of the game, not the whole match. But right now he felt the balance of power was with Adrian, and Brian wasn't used to that. He felt equally excited and repelled by this change. Adrian smiled as he took Brian's hand and led him over to the couch. He removed his own jacket, his tie, and unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt before he sat down. He patted the cushion beside him. Brian joined him there.
"I thought as much. No matter. I hate labeling passionate behavior, don't you? Funny how roles that seem so important before the games begin, often lose that importance when the heat rises. But if need be, we can do other things, now can't we? However, before we do, there's something you need to know."
"As in HIV positive? No. Are you?"
"What you need to know is that, without any offense intended towards your firm, I've decided my company's needs are better served by a national rather than regional ad campaign. Thus we need to engage a national firm. I'm going to hire one of the large monoliths operating out of New York. I really tested this regional... possibility, but I'm not sold. And nothing we do together tonight will change my mind. I wanted you to know that going in. Whatever this is between us, it isn't a barter."
Brian leaned back with a smile, absently tracing the outline of his cock with his thumb as his hand splayed his thigh. "So no matter how great I am at sucking cock, we don't get your business?"
"I try to make all business decisions with this head," Adrian touched his forehead. "Rather than this one." He squeezed his dick as Brian laughed.
"I didn't come up here to close the deal, so I'm fine with it."
"Wizard. Then stand up and remove your clothes. I've been wanting to see that body of yours since first I saw you at the movie. I've turned into a wanker thinking of how it might look. Had to leave the movie early after watching you sleep so I could have it off with my fist in private."
Brian laughed and stood up, slowly undressing, working it, reclaiming some power through his sheer physicality. "I jerked off in the bathroom at the restaurant tonight, thinking about you."
"So now we can jerk off together, right?"
"Among other things," Brian felt his power increase as he saw the longing enter Adrian's cool expression when his body was revealed. But the power shifted again when Adrian unzipped and withdrew his large, uncut cock that was already blood-filled and arching. He slipped the foreskin back and forth over the end of it, as he stared at Brian's naked body. Brian sat beside him, enjoying the sensation of being free of clothes while Adrian was still mostly dressed. His own penis grew dense and thrust upwards as his passion increased. They kissed again, and Brian slung a long thigh over Adrian's leg, both of them stroking their own cock as they mined each other's mouths with probing tongues.
Brian leaned in so their erections could touch, wet cock-face to wet cock-face, their fists pumping hard. Hands slipped from one dick to the other, crossing in the middle, fingers wet with combined cum.
"Get naked," Brian insisted, and Adrian quickly disrobed with Brian's assistance so they could resume what they were doing. At almost the same moment, they reached orgasm, both depositing a large load of semen, perfuming the close atmosphere with the briny scent of cum. Brian smiled at the other man and leaned over, lapping the milky issue off of Adrian's cock and belly, tasting himself, tasting Adrian, it didn't really matter. Adrian pulled him up to kiss him and then said,
"Let's migrate to the bed, shall we? Infinitely more comfortable."
Brian felt Adrian's arm at the small of his back as they walked to the bed. The W Hotel liked to call their beds "heavenly beds" in honor of the fine linens, high end mattress, and lush pillow choices. Brian suspected that tonight they would earn that moniker, but not because of any of the reasons their ad team proclaimed.
Brian awoke just before dawn. He was snuggled close to Adrian's naked body and he didn't want to move. He listened to him breathe, comforted by his proximity. His profile against the pillow was handsome in repose, softly outlined by the breaking light. Impulsively, he leaned over to kiss his ear. Adrian moaned a little, but didn't awake. Brian lifted the man's arm so he could crawl out from under it and went into the bathroom to shower. Marlon was seated on the tile ledge in the shower stall, fully clothed. He never got wet in these fantasies.
"So, hot shot," he said as Brian stood under the stream, letting the needles massage his tense muscles. "Broke some rules, didn't you?"
Marlon smoked, the water also not interfering with his addiction. He was dressed in costume for Guys and Dolls, looking like an old style gangster in his pin-striped suit. "So you plan to sneak out while he sleeps? Avoid the uncomfortable post-coital conversation?"
"Don't I always?"
"Is this like always, Brian?"
He met Marlon's eyes and frowned. "No."
"Thought so. Scared?"
"Of Adrian Winter. Of how he makes you feel. Or maybe of the fact he makes you feel anything other than hot."
"It's all about the sex. It was great sex."
"Apparently. So what are you afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid of anything! I just don't do the cuddle scene after the coming ends. I suspect Adrian doesn't either." Brian winced as the water trailed down his back, over his butt, down his legs.
"Sore?" Marlon asked, bringing a frown from Brian.
"None of your fucking business."
"You always get so nervous when you break that rule. Why is that, Brian? Feel like less of a man?"
"I'm warning you. I can make you disappear."
"Tell me. It's just us boys."
"I feel vulnerable."
"I don't like liking it."
"I thought liking it was what it was all about?"
"I'm never doing it again."
Marlon laughed. Brian turned his back on him. Marlon said, "You still look the same. No one will know."
"I know. He knows."
"Talk to him, Brian. Don't run this time. See what the man has to say. You know you feel something unusual. Find out what it is."
"No way. I don't want that, I don't need that."
"You want that and need that more than you can ever admit."
"Bullshit. I won't be some rich older guy's younger, passive lover. That's not who I am."
"What makes you think that's what he wants?"
"I know it is. He's used to having his own way. I know his type."
"Maybe you're right. He seduced his way past your gates."
As Brian turned off the water, Adrian was standing there to offer him a towel. Marlon was gone. Brian took the towel, rubbed dry, and then tied it around his hips. He used the mouthwash supplied by the hotel, watching Adrian watch him in the mirror.
"It's still early. Come back to bed, Brian."
Adrian was easy in his nudity, like all men with good bodies. He had nothing to hide. Looking at him, even now, filled Brian with longing. The sex had been that good. "I need to get back to my loft, change clothes, get ready for work."
"Nonsense," Adrian pulled him into an embrace, pressing against his damp towel and tightening his arms around his waist. "Look at me. It's alright, Brian. Nothing's changed. It was lovely. Let's not make it into more than it was, no need for that. We just got a little carried away, the both of us."
Brian hated this. Hated it. He didn't want to talk about it, he didn't want to be here, but strangely enough, he didn't want to be gone, either. He didn't want to walk out and never see this man again. He rested his forehead on Adrian's shoulder. "You confuse me."
"In what way?"
"In several ways."
"Come back to bed."
Brian forced himself out of his arms and shook his head. "I have to go."
"I'm returning to New York this evening following a meeting with one of your competitors. Even though I've made a decision, it's too late to cancel. May I buy you lunch?"
"No." He began dressing. Adrian sat on the edge of the bed and lit a cigarette.
"I'm too busy, I..."
"Don't bullshit me," Adrian interrupted.
"Okay, I don't do that. I don't see tricks for lunch or brunch or second tries or any other reason. It's done, it's over."
Adrian smiled. "I'm not a trick."
"So what are you?"
"A person. A connection, if you let it be."
"I won't let it be." Brian was mostly dressed, carrying his tie and his jacket, not bothering to tuck in his shirt. "I have to go. It was..."
"Yes, I know what it was, Brian. And I'll phone you. We'll have lunch."
"No, we won't." He paused to stare at the man, wanting to throw his arms around him and taste his lips again, feel his strong body next to his own. "I'm sorry, it's just not me."
"Don't underestimate yourself, Brian. Most definitely, it is you. I'll phone. Don't be a coward. Take the call."
Brian winced and left the suite, escaping to the security of his own environment. Adrian would be number fifty-five. But something was preventing him from counting this encounter. Perhaps it was the sensation that he hadn't tricked at all. He'd been seduced. And that wasn't technically what the bet was all about.
Later that morning, Brian entered the office suite where he worked and snapped at Cynthia, "If Adrian Winter calls, I'm in a meeting and can't be interrupted. If he asks about my calendar, I'm not free for lunch."
He saw her eyes grow wide and only then did he realize Ryder was standing behind him. "Are you out of your fucking mind, Kinney?"
Brian stalked into his private office, and slumped in the chair behind his desk as Ryder followed and closed the door. "What the hell are you doing, Brian? Your job is to close deals, not to insult the client."
"This isn't about the 'deal'. Adrian told me last night that he's already made the decision to go with a national firm."
"When did he tell you that? Why are you just now mentioning this to me? Was it at the dinner?"
"After the dinner," Brian said bluntly, not flinching from Ryder's knowing and disgusted stare.
"That's bullshit. I happen to know he's meeting with Gardner Vance today. If he made the decision to go national, why meet with Vance?"
"He's British. He's polite. He said it's too late to cancel, but his mind is made up."
"Everything was fine at dinner! How did you blow it?"
Brian smirked at the obvious answer to that question. He blew it very well, thanks. And vice versa. "Had nothing to do with me."
"If he asks you to lunch, go. Flip him."
Brian thought about that double entendre. Maybe "flipping" Adrian was just what he needed to restore his sense of balance. Sure, it would break some of his rules, but at the same time, it might fix rules that were already broken, mend fears that were nagging him. "He's not asking me to lunch to talk business. If he asks me at all, it's personal. You don't control my personal life."
"Then use that, Kinney. If he likes you or whatever, and believe me, I don't want any details, use that. Turn him around."
Brian picked up a koosh ball from his desk and squeezed it hard. "You pimping me now, Ryder? Is that in my job description?"
"There's a bonus in if for you if you can turn him around."
"How big a bonus?"
"Big enough to eat a fucking lunch with the man! Christ, is everybody queer now?" He left the office and Brian smiled.... Maybe not everybody. Just... anyone who mattered.
Michael's voice on the phone, filtered through an earpiece that allowed Brian free use of his hands on the keyboard of his computer while talking, was annoying. It was mid-day and Brian was still thinking about Winter. "Where were you last night?" Michael whined. Brian hated it when Michael whined.
"I told you I had a business dinner." He was on the Internet, finding out what he could about Adrian Winter.... His age checked out. He had been born in Coventry, England, thirty- five years ago, today.
"I called and came by your loft after midnight. You were out. You didn't answer your cell phone."
"I was busy."... His father was an architect, his mother taught French in a private school in London where many diplomats sent their children. He had two brothers.
Michael groaned. "How many are you up to now? Have you already hit sixty?"
"Not quite yet."... He was educated at Harrow, Cambridge and held an MBA from Wharton. He divided his time between homes in New York, London and Barcelona.
"So, how many last night?"
"Mikey, I'm in the middle of something. Can I call you back?"... He had been with this huge conglomerate for seven years and enjoyed a meteoric rise to the top executive ranks. He was single, no children. No suggestion that he was gay, either. Nothing public.
"Yeah, why not?" His hobbies were biking, travel, cars and rugby. He played rugby for Cambridge and was co-captain of the team. He still played in adult leagues. Brian didn't know much about the game, he just knew he found rugby players hot with their muscular bodies, snug, striped shirts and short-shorts.
"Call me," Michael rang off. Brian trolled through a web site devoted to Adrian's company.... He was annoyed. Was Adrian all he could think about? Why was this man so heavy on his mind?
"Maybe because you're drawn to him," Marlon suggested from a guest chair, materializing as Brian exited the web.
"I don't even know what that means."
"It means you're looking him up on the web, finding out what you can about him, thinking about him, not counting him as a trick, even though you know his business is gone and won't be back. This isn't about business, just as you told Ryder. This is personal."
"I don't like the fact that he's here in my head," Brian admitted. He had printed out a CV on Winter, and it included a stylish head shot of the man, an executive portrait. He stared at the handsome face as he retrieved it from the printer, feeling a little ripple of excitement roll through him.
"Give yourself a break, Brian, you big chicken shit. Find out what it is."
"It isn't anything."
Cynthia interrupted. "Adrian Winter."
Brian glared at her. "I told you, no calls."
"It's not a call, Brian. He's here."
Brian frowned and slipped the CV into a desk drawer as Marlon disappeared. "Okay, send him in."
Adrian was dressed in another great suit, this one deep midnight navy, with a gray shirt and navy and silver tie. He looked so good, Brian had to struggle with himself to avoid grabbing him. "I sussed out that it would be easier to screen me if I phoned, so I decided to make it more difficult for you to avoid me," Adrian explained.
"Did anyone ever tell you that persistence and stalking go hand in hand?"
"I own up to persistence, but deny stalking. Lunch?"
"Another handmade suit?" Brian deflected. Adrian smiled.
Their eyes met; Brian smiled. At that moment, Ryder came in and glad-handed Adrian with a handshake and a clap on the back. "Let me buy lunch, seeing as you're here during the noon hour, Adrian. My pleasure!"
Adrian cast him a look that was as cold as his surname. "Thank you for the offer, but this isn't about work. This is a date. Three on a match never works in such matters."
Brian winced. Luckily, he was "out" at work. He saw his boss slink away and then shook his head. "I told you, I don't 'date'."
"You eat lunch, don't you?"
"So today you do."
"Brian, I leave town tonight. Have lunch with me. I think we have things to say to each other, don't you?"
Brian gave up. He told Cynthia he was going out. In the back of the limo, Adrian reached for him. Brian hesitated, but not for long. The kiss went deep. "I've checked out of my hotel," Adrian whispered against Brian's hair. "Can we go to your place?"
"I don't have food."
"I don't always eat lunch, either, Brian."
Brian smiled and directed the driver to his address.
Brian was proud of his loft, and what he had done with it, but he felt insecure as Adrian took it in with a glance. The man's father was an architect after all, and Adrian had homes all over the world. Unlike Brian's tricks, how likely was Adrian Winter to be impressed by this little corner of Pittsburgh? He met Brian's expectant face with a smile.
"I like it very much. Stylish, tasteful, clean lines, high-end designer furnishings, but it doesn't feel like a showroom. It has character. Love the nude painting. Not so sure about that light sculpture over the bed, however. It's a bit Miami Vice."
Brian smiled, pleased, overall, with his assessment. "The blue lights look hot on skin."
"Skin looks hot on skin, Brian. Talking about skin..." he reached for him, slipping off Brian's jacket as they kissed. Brian did the same for him, two Hugo Boss jackets heaped in sartorial splendor on his hardwoods. Brian felt the sexual tension erupt into mutual fire between them. Every time he pushed, Adrian pushed back. Every time he conceded a step, Adrian moved forward. To the uninitiated who might have been watching them, it would look more like a confrontation than a prelude to fucking. Bare-chested now, their belts off, but trousers still on, Brian rested both hands on Adrian's pecs and shoved him back on the bed, standing over him as he said,
"If there's going to be fucking today, my dick is going in you. Not the other way around."
Adrian propped himself up on his elbows and grinned at the beautiful, flushed young man as he answered, "But Brian, you liked it so much when my dick was up your fabulous ass. Why fuck with success?"
"I told you before, I'm a top."
"And I told you before such labels are meaningless."
"In that case, why should you resist rolling over?"
"I'm not saying I will resist it. I am saying I want to be in you, again, very much, and I suspect you've thought of it favorably yourself. Am I wrong?" He unzipped, pulled out his erection, and stroked it a few times, watching Brian stare hungrily at it. "Because if I'm wrong, we should discuss it."
"I..." Brian hesitated, unsure of himself now, losing a little of his angry edge to lust. The scariest part of all was that Adrian wasn't completely wrong. He wasn't completely right, either, but some of what he said was true.
"Put those beautiful plum-colored lips on this, Brian. Let's not negotiate. Let's just see where our bodies lead us."
Brian wanted to do so, but then he unzipped his own trousers and invited, "You suck me instead."
"Pleasure," Adrian agreed with a smile. He moved to sit on the end of the bed and cradled Brian's ass in his hands as he slipped Brian's long cock down the back of his throat. Brian gasped at the thrill he induced, linking his fingers at the base of Adrian's skull, urging him down, even more.
"God, you know how to give head," Brian groaned. Adrian didn't respond to that compliment until he felt Brian's ejaculation slide down his gullet. He then leaned back and replied,
"Years of practice. You're not so bad yourself."
Brian went down on one knee, resting the sole of his other foot on the ledge of the platform bed as he leaned over and swallowed Adrian's erection. After Adrian was spent, they both finished undressing and stretched out beside each other on the bed. Adrian looked up at the row of neon tubes above them and grimaced. "Yes, this has to go."
Brian laughed. "Fuck you. I like it."
"Oh well, I like mayonnaise with French fries, so everyone has their failures of good taste. You're entitled to yours."
"Just because you don't like it doesn't mean it isn't in good taste."
"No, Brian, frankly, it isn't in good taste. But as I said, I don't mind."
"Good. Because as I said, I don't give a shit if you do mind."
Adrian laughed. "And I like that you don't give a shit if I mind. I love your fiery temperament."
"You have no clue how fiery it can be."
"I'm learning," he let his hand move down Brian's side, his hip, his thigh, and then up again. "I love your long, lean form. My ideal body type. I love the little bit of fuzz around your nipples. I love the valley between your pecs, and the horseshoe indentions of your biceps and triceps. I love that skimpy little trail that leads down from your belly button, here, to this bush. I hate it when faggots trim all of that shrubbery down to a neat little hedgerow. I like a man with hair to set off his cock," his fingers entwined Brian's pubic hair, and Brian smiled at him.
"Don't stop now. Either the touching or the praising."
"Alright, I love this, the little dip between your outer hip and your buttocks, setting off the hardness of your ass so perfectly. And I love how your ass meets your thighs, no overhang, but not too flat," his hand followed his words. He let his fingers slip along the crack as he said, "I love this hidden fold of pleasure, the perfect curve, so firm and yet promising. And at the center of everything," his finger pushed lower. "I love this tight little forbidden zone. Once one gets past your barriers, even more beauty is waiting inside." He dipped down and let his tongue do the work, tracing Brian's rim, flicking the aperture, slipping inside to probe the canal. Brian groaned and turned on his stomach to give Adrian better access. The sensation was sublime, and although he knew where it was leading, he had neither the desire nor the ability to make him stop.
Brian gripped the sheets in both hands and rested his forehead against the pillow as he panted, his need increasing with each poke and stroke of Adrian's knowledgeable tongue. It was deliciously enticing and yet almost frustrating because his tongue just couldn't reach far enough to hit the hidden gland that... would send Brian's pleasure to the next level. Brian's stiff cock was soothed as he rubbed it against the mattress, but he looked over his shoulder at Adrian and said, "Reach around."
Adrian smiled and reached under Brian's belly to stroke him. Brian moaned and finally he said, "The condoms are in that bowl beside the bed."
"Are you sure?"
"The lube is in the drawer."
Adrian retrieved both and used both, pausing as he asked, again, "Are you sure?"
"Fuck the shit out of me," Brian insisted.
Adrian groaned and turned him over. "I want to see your beautiful face as I do it."
Brian felt that pressure build into pain that later changed into pleasure as he was penetrated. He forced himself to relax, wanting it deeper so he could feel the contact with his prostate. When it happened, he moaned and bucked his hips up for more, bringing his long, narrow feet together behind Adrian's head. "Fuck me," Brian kept saying, realizing now that control did not always equate to the dominant role. He controlled Adrian almost completely at this moment, because nothing could stop him from completion when he was this deeply in rut. He would promise Brian anything, barter any concession, only to forget it after orgasm. But for now, Adrian Winter was his slave. Brian knew that to be true. He'd been there before, himself. Many, many times; a temporary slave to his passion.
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July 25, 2004