by LeFey
Mac slammed his empty shot glass down on the dining room table.
"My furniture," Victor warned.
"Don't change the subject." Mac reached for the bottle that sat between
them. "Put your money where your mouth is, Mansfield."
Victor took the bottle back as soon as Mac's glass was filled.
"This is good shit. Glad you snagged that case before the police secured
the scene. How long do you have to stay here?"
"The Director said till she can smooth things over with the police."
"That should take all night."
"Come on man, pony up," Mac demanded.
"Horse. There's no pony here. Maybe there." Vic pointed at Mac's crotch.
"You started this," Mac said and then took another shot.
"This stuff is like red wine, the longer you have the bottle open the
smoother it gets," he mumbled.
"Yeah," Victor said with an ironic lilt, as he took back the bottle.
"That's because the longer the bottle is open the drunker you get." He took
this shot neat, no salt, and no lime. "And yes you did too, start this."
Vic wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "When you put those crude
moves on that pretty detective in charge."
"You're just jealous." Mac bit into the lime first, realized his mistake
and started the process over. "She must be the ultimate wet dream for you.
A police babe." He gave Vic a leering grin before he knocked back the
tequila. "Besides, we had talked for awhile
before you started eavesdropping. She would have given me her number if you
hadn't showed up."
"Hey you're the one who bragged about having perfect Greek genitals."
Victor gestured with the full shot glass he held.
"She smiled when I said that. She knows what that means."
"Sure she does." Victor threw back his drink and bit into the lime. "That's
why she was smiling. Ever since I was old enough to care I knew it meant.
well . let's just say you're on short strokes from the beginning."
Vic reached for the bottle but Mac grabbed it away from him.
"Come on BIG Man." The words dripped sarcasm. "Let's see what you've got."
"What are you, fourteen? Give me the bottle." Vic held out his hand and
shook it impatiently then snapped his fingers.
"Not till we settle this." Mac stood and put the bottle on the dining room
chair he had just vacated. His hands went to his Gucci belt and in a second
it was undone and the button of his Armani slacks slipped through the
button- hole.
"Come on," he nearly shouted, gesturing at Vic. "Let's go man!"
Victor rocked back in his chair and laughed.
"You really are serious."
Mac's face was growing red with frustration, anger and alcohol.
"Okay, buddy. Since, you so desperately need to be humiliated." Vic slammed
his palms down on the table. "I'm not going to disappoint you."
He stood up, stepped away from the table and unbuckled his belt. He undid
his button fly but then stopped. He looked at Mac who now stood only a foot
away from him.
"You first," he challenged, suddenly wary that this might be another of
Mac's sick jokes.
Mac unzipped and let his pants fall to the floor. He wasted no time getting
his dick out of his boxers and displayed to Victor. It was a decent enough
organ. Not small, not particularly big either. It could best be described
as lanky, like its owner.
"Idiot," Vic groused. "That's not Greek."
Mac gave a triumphant smirk. "I'll save you the embarrassment. You can
concede now."
Vic ignored him as he snaked himself out of his briefs."And this ain't
Greek, either."
Laid across his hand was what could only be described as formidable. It
wasn't much longer than Mac's but of much more substance.
Mac swallowed.
Victor leaned in and cocked his head, listening. "What was that noise? The
sound of you losing?" Victor reached around him and snagged the bottle.
"But can you last?"
"What?" Vic stood and stared at him.
"Well, isn't that the whole point. Who cares what it looks like if you
can't last long enough to give her what she needs."
Victor shook his head. "You cared a minute ago, schizo."
"So, you're saying you can't last." Mac took a step towards Vic.
Victor gave a laugh of disbelief.
"I'm standing here with a bottle of tequila in the one hand and my dick in
the other. What? Isn't this high school enough for you without your new
challenge?"
"How long can you last, Mansfield?" Mac moved even closer, the heat from
their bodies radiating off each other.
"Ask LiAnn," Victor threw back at him.
"She's still in Vancouver. We're here. Now!"
Victor laughed at the absurdity of the situation and took a step back.
"Man, you are drunk."
"We can settle this."
"How? I don't have that much cash on me. You know a hooker who takes Visa?"
Victor joked, but then laughed. "Look who I'm asking. Of course you do." He
put the bottle on the table and redressed himself.
"When I was coming up in the Tang, the men took pride in how much pleasure
they could give a woman."
Vic picked up the bottle again and took a pull from it. "What are you
talking about, a jerk off contest? That was junior high."
"We practiced tantric rituals to reach new levels of sexual ability. Then
we had tests of endurance to see how long we could last before climaxing."
"That's not much of a contest since you know when to let up."
"It wasn't like that. We knelt opposite our opponent
and ."
Victor raised his hands and backed up.
"No. way. in. hell! I'm not touching you and you sure as hell aren't
touching me."
"Why? Because you know you'll lose?"
"No. Because I know I'm straight."
"I'm straight, too!" Mac pointed angrily at himself to drive home the point.
"Hmmm? I'm not the one who hung out with his buddies and diddled each other."
Mac grabbed the tequila bottle still in Vic's hand.
"I get it," Mac said quietly, his curved fingers slid over the neck of the
bottle. "Too much booze, too old. You wouldn't exactly be up for something
like this. Sorry, man. Sorry I asked."
Victor jerked the bottle out of his grasp and slammed it down on the table.
They stood for a moment, Victor glaring and Mac fighting not to smirk.
"How's this stupid-ass contest of yours work?" Victor asked hotly.
"First you take off your pants."
"No. First you take off your pants."
Mac looked down at the garment puddled around his ankles."I think I already
have." He stepped out of the pants, snagged the waistband and tossed them
across the back of
the couch. He slipped out of his Italian loafers. He was putting his socks
in his shoes when he looked up."Are you going to do this or chicken out?"
he barked at Vic.
Vic undid his jeans and slipped them off. He pulled off his socks and threw
them next to his boots that rested under the coffee table.
"The shorts come off too," Mac instructed.
"You."
"Together!" Mac snapped. "God, you are such a jerk."They slowly pulled off
their underwear never breaking eye contact.
"Now, the first thing we do is set ground rules."
"Like safe words?"
"Never knew you were a freak, Vic."
Victor glowered at him.
"I worked vice for three years, asshole."
"No. No safe words." Mac grinned. "Besides, your only safe words are 'you
win'. And I'll be hearing that soon enough. I'm talking body parts. No balls."
"Nothing here." Victor let his hand sweep over his groin and the y of his
legs.
"You ticklish, Vic?" Mac grinned again and feigned a poke at him.
Vic slapped his hand away and scowled.
"Just cocks."
"Just cocks." Mac shrugged his agreement. "That's all I'll need. You see,
besides endurance I've got technique. Kneel down."
Victor started to speak.
"Okay, okay together!"
The two men, nude from the waist down knelt facing each other. They reached
tentatively towards one another. The first touch shocked them both. A
mutual tiny shiver rattled through their nerves.
Mac's fingers trailed over Vic. Despite the anger and margin of disgust he
felt his body responded to the knowing massage.
"This one likes me," Mac teased.
"No talking!" Victor barked.
"The ground rules are set before we .."Mac stopped in mid-sentence. Victor
outlined the tender edges of the head with a feather light touch.
The competition had begun in earnest.
Mac was right. He had technique and it was rapidly driving Vic crazy. But
he had knowledge. While, being punished with grunt work he'd had to sort
tapes for the
Director. He'd found a surveillance tape from Mac's apartment. Vic had
watched him jerk off and knew exactly where his sweet spot was.
His fingers traced down to the base and was rewarded by an involuntary jerk
as he circled the shaft. He gave short teasing strokes as he worked the
tunnel of his hand up towards the head. A long tight stroke back brought a
stifled gasp.
Vic looked at Mac. His eyes were closed, face flushed and he worried his
bottom lip with his teeth.Vic closed his eyes as well and began the slow
light tickle up the sides of Mac's cock. He tried to concentrate on what
his hand was doing in an attempt to
ignore the torture Mac was administering to his throbbing dick.
Vic jumped minutely as Mac found his circumcision scar. His fingers glided
over the sensitive spot, not staying long enough to bring any satisfaction,
just enough to
make Vic miserable with need.
He knew this was one of Mac's spots as well so Vic gave back in kind. He
alternated a firm massage with a light tease. Every few seconds he let his
fingers creep over the head feeling the tissue swell under the torment.He
was working his fingertips down the shaft, his thumb still wiggling against
the good spot under the head, when Vic felt it.
A brush across his lips, the light flicker of a tongue on corners before
Mac pressed his mouth home.Vic jerked at the sensation. His hands came up
and he shoved Mac in the chest.
"What the hell is that!" he shouted.
"We never said no kissing," Mac shot back.
"Fuck you!" Vic started to stand.
Mac grabbed his shoulder.
Vic shook him off.
"Don't touch me!"
"So you concede."
"Fuck off!"
Vic stood, Mac right beside him blocking any retreat.
"I win because you couldn't take it."
"Fuck you. I quit because you're not kissing me. Anyway, loser, you got
crab-claws for hands. You couldn't get me off if your life depended on it."
"You fuckin' liar. If you were any harder I'd cut myself on the veins. I
did that. You quit rather than have to give it up."
"Asshole." Victor shoved Mac in the shoulder trying to get past him.
"Don't push me." Mac shoved him back.
Vic glared at him for a moment, then very deliberately planted the heel of
his hand on Mac's sternum and pushed.
"Or you'll do what?"
Mac moved back to stand nose to nose with Vic. Their rigid dusky cocks
nearly touched.
"I'll finish you off."
Vic began a derisive laugh when Mac tripped him. As he crumpled Mac
threaded his arm behind his head and grasped his right wrist twisting the
arm into a triangle. In a swift fluid movement Mac had Victor trapped, left
arm straight out and immobile, right hand trapped and his head forced forward.
Mac pushed himself against the arm of the couch and entangled Vic's legs in
his.
Vic struggled but was effectively spread-eagled and sitting in Mac's lap.
"Now let's see how long you can last, tough guy." Mac's free hand found
Vic's hard dick.
"Wicked tool, man." He purred as he gave one firm tug that shook Vic. "I
think it's really best if you sensitize the skin first. Makes the job go a
little quicker."
Mac scratched his fingernails lightly over the taut skin till Vic squirmed.
"Kind'a hard to take, eh? First time somebody did this to me I creamed
after the first three strokes."Mac circled his hand over Vic's heated cock
and gave a few quick pulls that left Vic panting.
"The nice thing about this hold is I can see my watch. I'll spot you three
minutes. But I say you don't last five."
"Fucking pervert," Vic managed through gritted teeth.
"Hey I'm not the one who's on the thin edge of coming because a guys loping
me."
Mac's fingers teased over the shaft and under the lip of the head until
Vic's stomach muscles jerked from his fight to stave off his orgasm.
"I lasted twenty minutes one time," Mac said in a conversational tone.
"Know what got me?" Mac laughed and then continued. "What do you think
about, Vic, when you jerk off? When you say that, it almost guarantees the
guys gonna get a mental picture of the one thing that always gets him off.
I was barely hanging on 'cause he was mixing up the strokes." Mac's hand
mimicked his words. "And that's real hard to deal with when the sensation
keeps changing."
Vic was sweating. Unable to move he bit the inside of his cheek in a
futile effort to back off from the inevitable climax.
"Then he asked what I thought about, and pow, I was screaming. It was good
though, a real hard, ball-throbbing come." Mac put his mouth next to Vic's
ear and whispered. "Like you're gonna have, Vic. Come on Vic," he coaxed.
"You can't take much more, man. I can feel how hard you are. You're running
on pure stubborn will power. But I can tease and stroke you for hours and
all you can do is, Ahh. Ahhh. come hard." Vic trembled with the effort to
prevent his orgasm. He was rigid trying to maintain control. Mac's soft
teasing voice, and the images his words evoked, bolted through his cock.
"You know you don't stand a chance. I once took down a guy who had lasted
for thirty minutes. He'd got three men off before me. But he hadn't said
anything about toys before we started. So I took out this little string of
ostrich feathers. Like a little rope of down and just worked it around
under the head." Mac's fingers traced the sensitive skin under Vic's penis
head as he spoke.
Vic moaned and shook at the torment.
"He only lasted a few minutes," Mac continued. "Which was good because he'd
found a place that was making me tremble."
Mac's hand circled Vic and he began to stroke the full length of the shaft.
"You know how hard it is to try and get somebody off when all you want to
do is make your own teasing stop. It's like being tickled and not being
able to move away from it." The rhythm of his stroking grew more insistent.
"You should have seen his face when I started with the feathers. Each
second was agony. What he was doing to me was just as bad."
Mac was on the short strokes now and Victor was suffering from the
tormenting pleasure.
"But I lasted just long enough to see him come first. Then I lost the
battle and I came like hell."
"Ahhhh." The sound was ripped, pulled, torn from deep within Victor's body
as he climaxed. His cock jerked and spasmed as Mac milked him. Vic's entire
body bucked
and thrashed as the incredible blinding pleasure rocked through him.
As he grew quiet, Mac slowed. Then when Vic lay limp against him, Mac
disentangled himself.
Victor rolled to his side and lay still, panting.Mac patted him on the
shoulder.
"Good, huh? Turns your bones to water."
He stood and stroked himself as he looked at Vic."I'm going in the bathroom
and take care of some business. I'll be back in a minute and clean you up."
Mac padded across the livingroom. His erection was starting to ache. He
had been a little too certain about his ability to hold himself in check.
It had been a long time since he'd participated in something like this. He
was lucky Vic had gotten angry. A couple more teasing strokes and he would
a have lost it for sure. His fingers tingled with the need to touch
himself but didn't dare till he reached the bathroom.
He stretched as he walked, raising his arms over his head to relieve some
of the tension.
He heard Vic stir behind him.
He felt the thud of the footsteps rather than heard them. Before he could
turn the handcuff slipped over one wrist and Victor wrestled him to the floor.
In a moment Victor had pulled the empty cuff past the leg of the old steam
radiator. Another struggle and Mac was shackled, flat on his back, his
hands raised above his head. Vic caught one of Mac's legs and looped his
belt around his ankle, securing it to the sturdy leg of his heavy leather
couch.
Vic took his time extracting Mac's belt from his pants and watched as he
struggled. Even though Mac kicked his free leg at Victor, it was easy to
secure it as well.
Victor knelt beside Mac.
"You're right man, it was good. I feel good." He wrapped his hand around
Mac's still rigid dick and squeezed. "I feel relaxed and ready for just
about anything."
He pulled on Mac who raised as much as he could in his restraints. Vic
pushed a pillow under his butt effectively immobilizing him while offering
up his cock.
"You sick bastard," Mac hollered. He tried to struggle but could manage
little more than a squirm.
"Right. And what you did to me was the model of mental health."
Vic lowered his head and peered at Mac's cock.
"What's this?" He ran his fingertip over the piss slit and looked at the
glistening liquid that coated his skin.
"You're real close." Victor grasped Mac and squeezed him forcing out more
precum. He gathered the viscous liquid and swirled it over the head of
Mac's cock. The hood flared, and Mac bit his lip grimacing at the
intensity of the sensation.
When he finished, Victor leaned close to him.
"I find that when this dries it starts to itch." He leaned back and
smiled. "I have to take a piss. You lay here and think about what I might
do to you." He ran a finger across the line of Mac's groin making him jump.
"Ticklish, Mac?" Vic echoed Mac's words to him.
"When I get out of this I'm going to kill you, Mansfield!"
Vic rose, smiling down at Mac.
"That doesn't give me much incentive to let you go, now does it?"
He walked away in a hail of curses.
Vic took his time getting back. The semen was drying. The wetness, at
first, was cool. Vic, clad only in blue gym shorts, walked past Mac and
headed for the kitchen. As he passed, little eddies of air wafted over the
damp patches on Mac's cock head. The sensation sent frosty jolts of
pleasure through him.
When Vic finally came back the prophesized itching had begun.
Vic sat down beside Mac and placed a wicker serving tray between them. He
gingerly took out a small stainless steel mixing bowl full of water. As he
sat it down ice cubes rang against the sides.
"I never told you about my time in vice, did I." He took other objects out
as he spoke and systematically arranged them beside him. "We were after
this SM prostitution ring. They were dealing drugs, guns and underage
girls. We needed somebody on the inside. I was the rookie so I got the
assignment of being initiated into a bondage club."
Mac strained against the handcuffs.
"You hurt me, you dickhead, I will kill you."
"Oh, this has nothing to do with pain."
There was a ping in the background.
"Microwave. The water's boiled." Vic rose and strode into the kitchen. In
a moment he was back with an opaque bowl, steam curling up from the contents.
Mac's eyes were huge, and Vic laughed when he saw the startled expression.
"This is for later." He pulled a plastic bottle of body oil out of the
water bath. He set it aside and leaned over Mac. He unbuttoned the
tailored silk shirt and lay it open.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Mac seethed.
"You did cock on me. I'm going to do the rest of you."
"You lasted seven minutes," Mac taunted. "And I spotted you three. Do
whatever you want. I'll out-last you, easy."
"You still don't get it." Vic leaned on one elbow, his mouth level with
Mac's dick. "Is this starting to itch? It looks all crusty." Vic blew
softly on the wide dusky head.
The irritating itch Mac had been able to deal with, blossomed into
full-fledged torment. He tensed his butt and legs trying to get some relief.
Finally, Vic stopped.
"I can still outlast you," Mac said defiantly between ragged breaths.
"It's not about how long you can last." Vic sat up and took the stainless
steel bowl in hand. "It's about whether I'll ever let you come."
He scooped up some water and gave an exaggerated shiver.
"I'll take care of that mess for you."
Mac screamed as the cold water shocked his skin and shrunk his dick.
Vic leaned over him and wiped his wet hands on Mac's chest. Mac winced at
the cold touch.
"You ever hear of denial, Ramsey. Cum control. Blue balls. Well, you
will. That's what happened to me. I had this really hot chick and this
very knowledgeable guy work me over. I was begging in a hurry."
He took Mac's dick and shook it. "Starting at half mast like this, I
predict the man here will be weeping in a few. And you'll be begging not
long after."
"What's all that shit?" Mac strained in his bonds to look at the objects
Vic had taken out of the tray.
"Toys." He picked up a small soft bristled nail-brush "Sounded like you
were in to toys." He drew the brush quickly across Mac's stomach, making
him shiver.
"That sensitizing thing makes sense. We'll start there."
Vic scoured Mac's body with the delicate touch of the brush. Startling
nerves into sensation, Vic lingered over ticklish spots till Mac yelped.
Other places betrayed Mac in their response to the deliciously sensual rub
and sent blood rushing to fill his dick. When Mac felt he couldn't bear it
any longer, when he thought there was a chance to make himself get off, the
harsh chill of Vic's ice water drenched fingers encircled his cock.
"That's the bad thing about having a guy do this to you," Vic said as his
hand left Mac's softened organ. "I know how the equipment works. You're
not going to be able to sneak one past me."
Vic tormented him in every way imaginable. He produced a thick sable
paintbrush and went to work on Mac's nipples. The brush was equally
effective when Vic slowly explored the inside of Mac's legs.
"Your ground rule earlier was no balls. Let's find out why."
Vic twirled the brush over the sensitive ridges of Mac's scrotum. He
bucked and strained at his bonds to free himself from the torment.
"I bet you could come from this," Vic mused.
Mac knew he could, had, in point of fact, and now fought desperately not to
let Vic make him come writhing and screaming. Just when he thought he
would rip apart from the strain and the relentless pleasure, he felt the
burn of ice and screamed.
"We'll save that for later," Vic told him as he toweled off the melted ice.
The rub from the thick, terry cloth brought the blood coursing back.
"You're recovering faster. We'll just have to up the ante."
Mac was trying to catch his breath. His head was turned away from Vic and
he was panting. He snapped around immediately to see what was causing the
unbearable sensation on his dick.
He strained to see what Vic was doing. He watched helplessly as Vic traced
the head of his penis with a Q-Tip. The cotton had been pulled away from
the stick so it was fluffy and frayed. The normally smooth teardrop of
fibers was a mass of filaments each one sending out a different tormenting
sensation.
Mac let out an anguished moan.
Vic smiled. "Talk about hard to take, huh. The great thing about this is,
well, you'd probably say the bad thing about this is it's not enough to get
you off, but God it really makes you wish you could."
The sensation was a wrenching, itching tickle that drew the blood and made
Mac throb with need.
"I read once that the Chinese, in the old days, use to torture people
sometimes by tickling them. When they did this to me at the bondage club I
thought this must be what it's like." He gave a wicked laugh as he
concentrated the Q-tip at the V under the head. "Now, you know what that
poor bastard had to endure when you put those feathers to him."
Mac was writhing as best he could in the bonds, and tossed his head within
the confines of his raised arms.
The air rushed from his lungs and his body collapsed with exhaustion when
Vic stopped. After a moment he tensed, waiting for the slap of the ice water.
"Let's do the silk next." Vic unfolded a well-washed silk scarf. "This is
almost as bad but doesn't tickle so much."
He wrapped the soft material around Mac's throbbing cock. Then slowly,
very slowly pulled it up letting the fabric spiral around Mac's engorged dick.
Mac gasped. The feeling was incredible. A thousand, no a million tiny
fingers seemed to caress him. Vic was right it didn't tickle as much as
the torturous Q-tip but it made him even more aroused.
"I'm being nice," Vic nearly cooed as he ministered to the dusky cock
before him. "I had this danced all over my body before they got to my
dick. It really drives you crazy when they drag it over your lips. God
that was unbearable." He shivered at the memory. "All you want to do is
scratch. And of course you can't even move. With your lips it would be
pure hell." Vic pulled the tissue of silk off Mac again. "But that must
be what this feels like now."
This was just the beginning. Victor continued a dizzying series of
torments, returning to some that he knew drove Mac crazy, then devising new
ways to guarantee his futile arousal. He had toyed with Mac's balls
throughout, gauging how far was too far, and applying the ice, frequently.
"Vic!" Mac's voice was a wail. "Please, Vic."
"What?" Vic tossed back coldly. He had moved past the tease and was now
into the more profound torture of prolonged arousal. He had put Mac in
that place where the pleasure had grown from ache to near pain.
Vic began to massage warm oil over Mac's stomach. The sweet oaky smell of
vanilla surrounded him. His thumbs traveled over the flare of Mac's hips.
Spots that were ticklish the hour before, responded now to the sensuality
of the slick massage. Each stroke drove arousal directly to Mac's
suffering dick.
"Vic, please man! You win! I'm dying! You win." Mac strained, pushing
himself against Vic's hands, moving unsuccessfully, in order to make more
contact.
Vic had soaked the silk scarf in the ice water and plastered it around
Mac's dick but nothing could quell his erection now. Vic looked at the
bowl of ice water. A few cubes still floated there. He thought about
fishing one out and rubbing it on Mac, letting the remainder melt on his
balls.
He also thought about putting one on his own neck, to relieve the heat
building inside him. There was a part of him that liked this, a part of
himself that he didn't particularly like. He found a perverse satisfaction
in having arrogant, self-centered Mac Ramsey at his mercy. He was certain
Mac had felt the same way when he'd forced him to come.
Mac was making inarticulate noises, now. Guttural "ughing" sounds with
each breath.
Vic peeled off the wet silk and dried him with the towel. Mac squirmed and
made mewling noises at the sensation.
Vic pulled the body-oil from the hot water and poured some into his hands
rubbing them together. The liquid was silky and still very warm. He
drizzled some directly onto Mac's cock and balls. Mac sucked in his breath
at the unexpected nearly-hot sensation.
Vic worked the insides of Mac's legs till he groaned.
Vic needed to stop, he knew this. He needed to let Mac come. Mac had been
denied much longer than the "professionals" at the club had made Vic wait.
Vic needed to stop for his own sake and be rid of this hateful aspect of
himself that had been awakened in the dungeons of the bondage club.
But he didn't stop, only moved his hands lower to work Mac's calves. He
watched in fascination, as Mac's rigid cock grew duskier, the skin taut and
more transparent till it gleamed a muted purple.
Finally, he shook himself and moved up Mac's body to gather the excess oil
that nestled in the hollow between Mac's dick and balls.
At the touch Mac jerked.
Victor rolled Mac's balls in his fingers, spreading the warm oil.
"No. Vic, please no." Mac struggled as the sensation Vic finger's
produced possessed his body. "Please, not that way. It's too much," he
finished from between clinched teeth.
"I'm just doing what you did for me, Mac. I'm giving you a long, hard,
ball-throbbing, bone melting come."
But he took mercy on Mac and wrapped his hand around his cock, letting up
on his balls. He kept his hand loose for a few strokes as Mac tensed.
Then Vic tightened his grip and stoked hard and fast.
"OH God," the words were drawn out into a tormented cry of overwhelming
pleasure as Mac pumped over Vic's hand.
When it was over Vic cleaned him with the warm water from the oil bath,
before he undid the retraints and removed the pillow.
Mac lay still even after the handcuffs and belts were removed.
"You okay?" Vic patted him on the chest after a minute. He knew he was
far beyond okay. Vic, himself had lain on the bondage table, floating in
an endorphin created bliss for over an hour after they'd finished with him.
Mac opened his eyes and pulled his arms down to his sides. The fingers of
one hand went to his mouth and he rubbed his face as if he'd just awakened.
"Wow," he said in a hoarse, thin voice.
Vic laughed and offered his hand to help him sit up.
Mac took it and pulled himself into a sitting position, his back against
the cold metal of the old radiator.
"That was intense," he said after a long pause.
"Yeah. What you did to me, too," Vic conceded and leaned back against the
end of the couch.
The two men sat on the floor opposite each other. No-one speaking for a
long while.
"You think we could ." Mac started tentatively but Victor cut him off.
"No. I'm straight," he said flatly.
"I'm straight too, remember." A little of the Mac Ramsey edge was
returning to his voice.
"This wasn't about sex," Vic said suddenly. "This was like a power thing."
"You mean a sort of practical joke?" Mac put in apparently seeing where
this line of thought could lead them.
"Yeah. It was just a thing guys do."
"It started as a challenge after all," Mac agreed.
"That's right. You messed with me. I gave it back to you."
"In spades," Mac blurted out.
They were both quiet for a minute. Finally, Victor spoke.
"Now, we're even. We're both straight. This was a real male type
competion and we both won."
Mac nodded. "Like extreme sport."
"Very extreme," Vic said quietly looking at the floor.
After an extended silence Victor stood and offered his hand again to Mac.
"You want a shower?"
"Yeah." He took the helping hand and stood.
The two walked towards the bathroom, Vic behind Mat his hand protectively
on the unsteady man's shoulder.
"Have you ever wondered how long you can kiss before you have to come?"
Vic asked.
Straight
o way man!" Victor licked the salt from his fist, knocked back the shot
of blue agave tequila, and bit into the nearly sweet lime wedge.
