Author's webpage: http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Lofts/5843

A LITTLE SAMPLE
by the Bad Boys of West Racine
(Mitch Hudson and The WolfWalker)

Paternity suit?" Benton Fraser asked, surprise plain in his voice as he followed Detective Ray Vecchio up the stairs in the medical office building.

"There's no chance in hell of it being my kid, Benny. I was the arresting officer. I was alone with her for maybe ten minutes. But the department wants it settled this way. I give the doctor a . . ." Ray swallowed convulsively, "sample and the test results will prove it's not my kid. Case closed, okay?"

Ray wiped his damp palms on his Armani slacks before turning the handle of Dr. Meglio's office door. That short speech had come out a little rough but Ray had done the best he could. It was awfully important to him that the Mountie believe him. A little too important, he thought. But when it came to Fraser's opinion of him, Ray knew he'd do everything in his power to make sure the Mountie thought the best of him that was possible.

"This is just a rather inopportune time, Ray. What with the case that we have pending," Fraser explained. "The gentleman we need to question at the fish market will only be there for another hour."

"I know that, Benny." Ray shot a glare over his shoulder as he signed in at the receptionists desk. He took the offered cup and halfheartedly listened to the very bored woman's instructions.Turning to the Mountie Ray poked a finger against the red serged chest. "Go take a seat. I'll be back in a minute."

"All right, Ray," Fraser agreed as he took a step toward the deserted seating area. The room's one occupant had departed shortly after their arrival.

Ray stood there, cup in hand and glanced to his left.

"Ray," Fraser called softly. "That way," he said, indicating a narrow doorway down the hall to Ray's right.

"Oh, of course." Ray squared his shoulders and briskly entered the dimly lit little booth. He set the cup on the padded bench and eyed the stack of magazines on the shelf. There was a Television with a VCR hooked up to it. Several videotapes were piled on the top shelf. He eyed them with distaste.

"Ray?" Fraser tapped on the door.

Ray jumped. "What?" he demanded.

"If this is going to take a while I could run over to the market and see if I can locate our man--"

"Benny! Just shut up, go sit down and read a magazine!" Ray glared at the closed door and balled his fists. How was he supposed to get on with business if Benny was gonna distract him that way? He fished a magazine off the stack on the shelf and began to thumb through it. Scenes of naked bodies flipped by rapidly. There were the typical beach photos, nude couples playing volley ball, sunbathing girls on sandy expanses and sun glinting off ocean waves. Ray thumbed to the end of the magazine and traded it for another one. Nothing. He looked down at the zipper region of his impeccably tailored slacks. Nothing. He loosened his tie and thought about removing his jacket. Nah. He wasn't gonna be here long enough to get comfortable.

After the fifth magazine had been examined he slumped back on the padded bench and eyed the stack of video tapes. A soft tapping at the door made him jump and he dropped the fifth magazine. "What?" he demanded.

"Ray," Fraser called. "Our time is short--"

"I know how much time we have, Benny!" Ray scooped up the magazine and slammed it down on the shelf. Suddenly the dimly lit booth was flooded with the florescent light from the hall as Fraser opened the door and stepped inside. Ray stared up at the Mountie, too shocked to ask what the man was doing in here. Fraser shut the door behind him and turned the lock in the handle. Ray stared at the lock, realizing he should have done that earlier. There was a rustle of red serge and Fraser had a grip on his arms. Ray felt himself pulled to his feet. He felt the heat of the man before him through the linen of his suit as Fraser pushed his jacket open. Then the Mountie tugged at his belt, efficiently unfastening it and Ray's slacks with a minimum of movements.

Ray gaped at him, completely unable to form a coherent word. Fraser pushed him back against the wall, half bowed back over the padded bench, Ray clutched at the wall for balance. Benny unbuttoned his slacks, slid the zipper down and tugged Ray's underwear down.

Firm, insistent hands moved inside his pants, freeing his penis. Ray gasped. He stared down, unable to move. It felt as if his mind were five seconds behind in time. He'd heard about this, about this disconnection with what was happening to a person. Jet pilots sometimes suffered this during take off when they were first learning to fly. They would feel as if their minds were still down on the runway, ready to lift off the ground when in actuality they were up in the sky, climbing at alarmingly steep rates.

Ray concentrated on raising his eyes to meet Fraser's. He got his eyes up as far as the Mountie's wrists. Fraser's fingers caressed his cock, dancing across the sensitive head, stroking the slit back and forth. Ray closed his eyes.

A gut deep groan escaped his parted lips. Instinctively he thrust his hardening cock into Benny's hands. He reached out and clutched at a red serge covered shoulder. The fabric was coarse beneath his touch. Ray gasped as Fraser increased the pressure, stroking sure fingers along his balls.

Ray saw images of the Mountie. Benny in his leather jacket. Benny in plaid flannel. Benny flushed from the cold as gunmen chased them across snow covered Canada. Benny standing guard in the Chicago heat. Benny dripping wet and carrying him out of lake Michigan. Benny touching him.

With one hand plastered to the wall for support and the other twisted in the red serge of a Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer's dress uniform Ray Vecchio felt himself reaching the edge of orgasm.

"Benny," he gasped. "Oh, Benny," Ray protested weakly. He thrust with his hips, meeting every stroke of Fraser's hands on him. Tighter and tighter that touch grew, perfectly measured in length, in pressure. Perfect. Perfectly Benny. Ray breathed in short gasps. He arched closer as the pressure that sought release built inside him. "I'm gonna . . ." "Yes." Fraser said.

Ray felt the Mountie shift and suddenly something was wedged between his hand and Fraser's jacket. It was the specimen cup. Ray opened his eyes in shock, staring at Fraser's hand as the Mountie guided his tenuous hold on the plastic cup down to where their bodies were joined. Ray caught sight of Fraser's hand curled around his hard cock.

"This is not--" Ray tried to protest but he clamped his lips together to trap a moan in his throat. Ray felt his ass cheeks clench as he thrust into Fraser's hand, cum racing along his shaft. Orgasm washed through him and he spilled white liquid into the small container they both steadied between them. His thighs shook. His throat rasped with dryness.

Ray sank back on the padded bench, feeling the room tilt and spin around him. He closed his eyes and concentrated on catching his breath. After a moment's deep silence Fraser began tugging at his clothes. Ray sat limp and unseeing as Fraser finished. He flinched away as bright light shining in on him registered through his closed eyelids as the door was opened and closed quickly. Finally Ray opened his eyes. He was alone in the small room. On the shelf in front of him sat the specimen container, capped and ready to be taken to the nurse's station down the hall.

Ray struggled to his feet, gave his clothes a few final tugs and delivered the specimen. Briskly he walked through the reception area and opened the office door. He stepped aside and allowed Fraser to precede him outside. Silently Ray headed for the stairs and the Riv.

Benton Fraser found himself standing in the middle of the waiting room slightly amazed at his boldness. It was true they were in a hurry today and he knew that Ray would whine, carp and generally be in a piss poor mood if they didn't make this their first stop of the day. In the next few minutes Ray would be delivering the sample to the nurses station, then they could be on their way.

Fraser wasn't exactly sure why he'd do such a thing. He hadn't exactly given it any thought at the time. Lending a helping hand is how he'd thought about it. A way of expediting things. Now he began to give some thought at to how Ray would feel about it. All these thoughts were circling around his head as he slowly searched the room for a washroom. He located the receptionist and got as far as opening his mouth to ask for help. Fraser stood with his hands extended slightly from his body. Ray swept into the room, yanked the door open and waited. He turned to follow first with his eyes then with the rest of himself, "Oh dear," he managed under his breath.

Ray picked up the pace, passing him on the stairs. He hurried after Ray, following him around the building and into the parking structure. He stopped two full paces behind him waiting to see why Ray had stopped walking. He hoped they weren't about to discuss what had happened.

"Where's the car?"

That wasn't the question he'd expected. "Car?" He blinked.

"You know . . . the thing with four wheels that I drove us here in?"

Right . . . drove. He drew a breath, pretending to think about it when actually all he could think about was the texture of Ray's erection against his hand.

"You gonna tell me where I parked or not?" Ray turned first one direction then another trying to decide which direction they had come from before turning back and starring expectantly into Fraser's eyes.

But he didn't look around. Instead, he stared into Ray's face and wondered how it would look against a pillow, staring up at him. "Third level, Ray."

The look on Ray's face revealed nothing to the Mountie. His eyes followed the cop as he headed toward the ramp that would lead to the Riv. Ray had a loose-hipped walk, the kind that always attracted his attention. It stated an easygoing confidence but didn't really fit the cop's personality.

Ray had his key out and ready when he rounded the corner of the third level structure. He stopped dead in his tracks. Fraser actually had to swerve slightly to keep from bumping into him. Both tires on the driver's side were flat. In his haste to prove his innocence he had neglected to examine the parking spot closely before pulling into the spot. Now he could see the nails scattered along the inside of the white line as if someone had dropped a box and thought it too big a hassle to pick them up.

Ray whipped his phone from his pocket, pressed the speed dial and avoided making eye contact with the Mountie. "Elaine! Tell Huey I've been delayed and that I'd really appreciate it if he could give me a hand with one of my cases. He needs to go to the fish market, like right now and take a statement. The files on my desk, he can get all the information he needs from it. Two flats and I haven't called Triple A yet. Yes he's with me. No I won't tell him hello for you. This isn't high school and I'm not passing any notes for you."

He waited until the tires had been changed before settling himself into the confines of his seat. Now he sat while the driver handed the slate to Ray who quickly signed it, handed it back and was suddenly seated next to him before he was aware of it happening.

He knew he'd gotten nothing on his hands, well, sweat, normal skin stuff but the tingling in his palms was now accompanied by a slight . . . odor. Although the scent was not unpleasant, he felt sure that Ray should also detect it.

Ray returned his stare for what seemed a small eternity. Finally, he dropped his gaze to the deliciously lean torso. Lean, yes, but Ray had some bulk in his shoulders and upper arms. Sitting only a few feet away yet close enough for Ray to catch any tell-tale thoughts on his face, he shifted his attention and stared at the instrument panel instead but he could still see Ray's slow shake of his head.

Between his tingling palms and the exotic spicy warmth coming from them each time the air conditioner caught it just right made him uncomfortably aware he needed to wash his hands.

"-- so Huey will take his statement and we'll be back on schedule or will be by the time we get back to the precinct. As long as I don't slow down for any stop signs."

Ray's quick look toward him kept him from commenting.

Fraser stared at Ray through the glass. Ray was staring at the still unidentified suspect. The suspect was examining himself in the mirror. Ray was not happy. Welsh hadn't told them anything about the case, but it was very apparent what the charges were. The man turned from the one way mirror, hugging his full-length raincoat tightly.

Elaine carried a cup of coffee to Ray. The suspect waited until Elaine was looking directly at him before he pulled his coat open.

Elaine's eyes traveled downward, "What am I suppose to be looking at?

Fraser kept his smile under control as the suspect's slowly faded. The man pulled the coat around himself tightly.

The Mountie's eyes shifted back to Ray who sat tapping his pen tip against the table while glaring at the still unnamed man. Welsh yanking the interrogation room door open brought Fraser's attention to him,

"You about done with him? I've got at least fifteen women wanting to make statements."

Ray stopped tapping, swung his head toward Welsh and practically whined, "You don't think Huey would trade back do you?"

Welsh didn't bother answering before he left.

"Elaine? How'd I get stuck with this guy?" "You and Huey switched cases this morning. This is the one he chose to give you."

When Ray slumped lower in his chair and cast a deadly look at the mirror, Fraser crossed his arms in front of himself. Ray had just drafted him into helping with the interviews. Not that he really minded, otherwise, he would have walked to the Consulate by now. While Ray tried to sort out who the guy was, he waited in the observation room.

For the moment it was pleasant to mentally step into a fantasy. He'd wait until the suspect had been led away, then he'd slip into the interrogation room, lift Ray's chin with his finger and look into half closed eyes. He'd catch a seductive glimmer of need in Ray's gaze. Ray would nestle closer, parting his lips; he'd actually offer him a kiss. He'd lean forward and taste --"

"Fraser! You coming or what?"

The image dissolved and was replaced with Ray leaning impatiently against the door. He'd been so busy taking advantage of the dream Ray he'd forgotten to wash . . . now, he'd follow Ray into the bull pin and that would postpone it once more. By the time the last witness had made her statement, Fraser felt he'd heard every possible description of the male organ that had ever been thought of. According to the group of women, the twenty seventh precinct had public enemy number one instead of an ordinary flasher.

Ray dropped down beside him, "Like none of them have ever seen one? All of them work the same area and I've booked each of them at least twice. So what's the big deal? Benny? You in there?"

The spicy erotic scent was so much stronger now. He wanted to lift a hand to his nose, breath deeply but that would look, well, odd. Even for him. Images of him pressing his lips to Ray's, causing Ray to moan and respond in like. And as his tongue penetrated . . . he broke the word into syllables, savoring the sound of the word . . . pen-e-trat-ed Ray's mouth, his hands would roam feverishly over Ray's back. Ray would mold himself against him, aching to feel the length of his body --

"Oh." Fraser groaned, gasping for air he'd forgotten to breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut and drew in a sharp breath. He wouldn't -- couldn't do anything he'd imagined. This he could never have. He'd have to settle for just being close to him. To talk with him. No touching. No kissing. Nothing that would upset Ray. Nothing that would endanger their friendship. Not like this morning. That had been a major mistake. It was too late to do anything about it and Ray hadn't brought the subject up. Perhaps he was waiting for a better time. That seemed the only logical, reasonable solution.

First order of business was to stand up, go to the men's room and wash the smell of Ray from his skin but Ray's gaze traveling over his face, the look in his eyes, soft and caring --

Time for action, he thought.

He bolted for the door.

Bolted for freedom.

He never looked back, never slowed down in the afternoon heat until he caught sight of the Consulate, then stood leaning one hand against the wall of the building until his breathing no longer came in ragged gulps.

"You're late Constable," her voice cut through him like ice. "I've reassigned Constable Turnbull to the delegates. You can cover his and your time out front."

Yes, he thought, at least I won't have to think for the next two hours. All I need do is clear my mind and stand in one spot. True, it was warm today, but he'd taken double shifts before. It also would put him at the end of his shift. He could leave directly from here to his apartment. Ray had not mentioned other arrangements. Of course, he hadn't exactly given him the opportunity and considering what he'd done this morning he didn't expect Ray to suddenly appear out of nowhere--

He tried desperately not to allow his eyes to stray. He focused straight ahead but from the corner of his left eye, he could see the dark green hood slip into view. Not that he actually needed to view the event. He could identify the sound of the motor as it approached. He heard the engine die and the door opening then closing, but so far, Ray had managed to steer clear of his line of sight.

Until now, he'd managed to ignore the scent he swore had permeated every pore in his body. The lack of a breeze had helped in that respect but the heat that beat down on him was quickly taking it's toll.

The slight stir behind him pinpointed where Ray was. It also had almost sent him to his knees as the spicy male scent filled his head again. A small touch. A mere brush of . . . a hand? . . . against his shoulder blade. He parted his lips as though to speak but nothing came out. To top it all off, the sweat under his heavy red serge was becoming unbearably itchy. The slight pressure slowly began to travel from his shoulder blade to his arm and finally came to rest on his breastbone. His eyes focused on the pouty lips that held a promise of long, hot, lingering kisses. The erotic thoughts about his best friend filled him but a tickling of guilt edged into his consciousness at that moment.

"Benny."

Ah what a soft sound.

"You look like you're gonna pass out. Why don't you call it a day, get in the car."

He didn't dare blink or Ray might disappear. With fifteen minutes remaining of his shift, he staggered to the car and adjusted both air vents to his flushed face before he realized he deserted his post and didn't care.

"Do you know what I'd like right now? Snow, Ray."

"Snow? In August? Take the jacket off, you'll start to cool faster."

"Start the car, Ray." He leaned forward eager to catch the first icy blast.

He knew Ray was following him up the stairs to make sure he didn't fall over from heat exhaustion but having him behind him like this did little

to relieve the heat that burned in his groin. His eyes connected with his apartment door. Almost there, he thought. The spicy aroma struck him hard as hands fastened on his elbows and steered him to the washroom.

Ray pushed him against the wall and closed the door. "take off your jacket."

"Jacket?" he repeated.

"You know, the red thing you're wearing that buttons down the front. Ray's index finger poked each button.

"Yes, of course." He eased out a slow breath and began fumbling with the buttons. Ray's hands replaced his, "Here, let me help you," he offered, then expertly undid the buttons. Cool air immediately swept in evaporating the moisture that had been trapped underneath. It helped revive him ever so slightly as Ray pulled the jacket off and let it drop.

Ray leaned closer examining his color. Fraser fastened his eyes on the pulse throbbing at the base of Ray's throat. He felt an even deeper shade of pink creep up his throat and onto his cheeks. He shifted his stance while wishing his brain would react instead of his body.

Ray leaned back, wetting his lips and causing another flare of heat in his chest.

"Benny, you look awful. I need to get you into the tub."

He would have responded but all his body functions had gone on strike. He cleared his throat and miraculously, his lips moved, followed by a raspy sound that used to be his voice. "I should get undressed first," he croaked.

The thought of being naked at this moment pushed him over the edge. The fantasies he'd been building all day congealed into one as he imagined what he'd do and what Ray would do if he --

Ray flashed him a quizzical look, "Are you all right?"

"No. Yes. I'm just . . . waiting."

Ray shoved back the shower curtain and turned on the water. "I need to get you cooled down. I'll set this for warm and slowly adjust it until it's on Arctic cold. Hold on for a couple minutes."

He found himself being stripped. The exotic, spicy aroma seemed to hang in a cloud about his head. The cloud seemed to burst, sending it's contents over him, running in long streams down his naked body.

Not rain.

Not a rain storm but still a shower. He chuckled at his joke.

Memories struggled past the quickly ebbing heat. He vaguely recalled nuzzling into a chest. Recalled brushing his lips against a stubbly cheek. Recalled thinking how he wanted to take Ray into his hand again, but this time as a way of indulging in his own selfish pent-up desires.

Shower. He was in the shower, the water was slowly cooling him down. Ray had gotten him in the shower while he made unwanted advances on his best friend.

Suddenly it hit him what he'd done. His shoulders slumped.

"Better?"

The water stopped. A towel draped around his shoulders. A hand helped him from the tub -- it stilled swirled in on him but it was slowing some.

"The halls empty. I want to get you to bed."

He clung to Ray. Bed.

With the Mountie uniform bundled under on arm Ray gripped Fraser firmly about his towel draped waist and fast marched him down the hall. He spared a hand to open the apartment door then booted it shut behind them. Okay, Ray said to himself, he's home, safe, recovering from the heat and . . . naked. Ray huffed a breath out of his puckered lips.

Fraser swayed silently in his embrace. Ray stared around the room. Now what? Feed him? Get him a glass of water? Or perhaps a cup of tea? Or bed. He could put Fraser to bed. "Benny you wanna go to bed?" Ehh. that hadn't come out exactly right.

"I . . . " The Mountie's voice faded completely away.

Ray walked him to the bed and sat him down. Just a little help, that's all Ray was giving. Yeah. Like Benny'd given him this morning. Just a little . . . help. He looked down into Benny's dark eyes. They smoldered. Ray would have sworn right then that he'd just learned the definition of smoldering. He straightened up, standing inches away from the man and stared at him, stared at his smoldering eyes and his lips. What would be a good word to describe those lips?

"Ray, I . . . "

"Yeah." Ray reached a hand out and stroked Fraser's cheek. He felt the slight rasp of whiskers and smiled. In the bathroom when Fraser had seemed to stumble into him, brushing his cheek across Ray's there'd been that momentary sensation of raspiness that he felt now. He thought back to that morning in that booth at the clinic. If when Fraser had been doing . . . that to him, if Ray had stroked his cheek like he was doing now, there would have been no stubble to detect. If he'd run his fingers over Benny's lips they'd been just as soft, as kissable as they were now. That was it. The word to describe those lips, the perfect word, was kissable. He traced his finger along the bottom lip and Fraser tilted his head forward and sucked that finger inside.

Ray groaned as his eyes closed. He tilted his head back and leaned into

the body before him. A hand came up and searched inside his jacket. Then it encircled his waist. Fraser was tugging him closer. Ray went. He went all the way over Fraser, pushing the man back onto the narrow bed, he covered Fraser with his body. His fingers were still in the Mountie's mouth and the Mountie's hands were once again working at his clothes. It wasn't so easy this time with Ray laying on him. Ray rolled to his side, pulling his hand from Fraser's mouth.

"Oh, this isn't you just being helpful. This isn't you just lending a hand, is it Fraser?" Ray gasped as the Mountie worked his zipper down. Ray tugged at the flap of towel tucked in around it'self at Fraser's waist.

"No, it isn't, Ray. Not helpful a'tall."

Those nimble, sure fingers worked at his clothing and soon Fraser had him half naked. Ray worked at focusing on the face beside him. Oh this wasn't helpful. This was sex. Sex with Fraser. With Benton Fraser. Oh God. Now his jacket and shirt were off. His shoes and pants were off. Fraser was tugging his underwear off. Ray clutched at Fraser's shoulder, the one he'd held onto this morning for dear life.

In that little room, Fraser had wanted to help. But this was so far beyond that. It could have been blown off if they'd worked at it. It could have been put out of their minds, dismisssed, forgotten. But all day Ray had felt nothing but Fraser's hands on him, Fraser's breath, Fraser's blue eyes.

And all day the Mountie had continually kept those eyes on him. Watched him in the car, watched him in the precinct, watched him during the ride to West Racine and watched him in the bathroom as Ray stripped him and put him under the cooling shower.

Now it was Ray's turn to watch. He watched as Fraser leaned over him, his lips parting, and he watched as the Mountie kissed him. Pressure of warm, moist lips on his, then the delicious sensation of Fraser's tongue invading his mouth. Ray invaded back. He pushed u against Benny, rolling him to his back. He ran a hand over Fraser's chest, up around his neck, down over his nipples and Fraser gasped into his mouth. Oh, that was more like it.

Ray raised up on his elbow and studied Fraser's face. His eyes were closed, his mouth slack. Ray traced his touch from nipple to nipple to the Mountie's navel. He circled it then went further south into thick black hair. He was a pelt even down there. But smooth as silk in between. Such a contradiction, the Mountie was. So calm and cool and analytical. And hot.

Ray dipped his head down and tasted a nipple. Sweet, pure Fraser brushed under his tongue. No sweat, no soap residue, just Benny.

Ray found Fraser's erection. He raised back up and took Fraser in his hand. The man gasped like he was dying. Ray smiled and tightened his hold. He slid his fingers up and down the shaft. Then he pulled his grip up to the head and moved his had around and around it. Fraser cried out and thrust up into his hold and Ray darted down for a quick kiss.

"I just need a little sample, Constable," Ray whispered. He worked his hand down to the base of Fraser's shaft then back up to the head again. Fraser groaned and Ray increased his rhythm, pumping up and down that hot shaft insistently now. Fraser grabbed his shoulder with one hand and the bed with his other. His eyes flew open and his mouth gaped as he breathed in harsh gasps. He thrust in counter point to Ray's movements. Ray worked on, never pausing or slowing as he saw Fraser race toward orgasm. The man beneath him cried out and Ray pumped him as white thick fluid spurted up and splashed back onto Fraser's stomach. Ray stopped as Fraser stilled.

"Ah, we seem to have forgotten the container."

"Oh," Fraser whispered as he raised his head just enough to survey the state of his body. "Forgot to . . . contain it."

"We'll just have to try again in a little while. I know of a container you can use."

Fraser snapped his wide-eyed look up at Ray. "You-- oh." He smiled. "You do? Good."

Ray leaned down and kissed him. "Great thing about that container is it's reusable."

"We'll have to give it a try. Well but not just yet." He hoped his voice sounded more sure than he felt. But for now, Ray, I-I." He cleared his throat as he sought the right words. "For now I just want to sample you.

Had he said that? Really said that? He had. Here he lay half under the cop and had just told him he wanted to - to what? Well, he wanted everything. Anything. It all. Whatever he could get from Ray.

Suddenly his mouth went dry with wanting.

Wanting.

What a pitiful word for the emotions raging through his veins. It was more than that. More than wanting it was ... desire? He searched inside himself until he found it.

Love.

Tender, aching love. Such a small word for such a powerful feeling in him. He realized he'd loved Ray for a long time and was only beginning to admit it to himself.

Ray had taken care of him. He smiled at the indication. Not just the sex, but he'd come to the consulate for him, brought him home and brought him back to his senses. That combined with the sex gave him a pretty good sample of what Ray was feeling inside.

And Ray wanted him. Maybe that word wasn't as pitiful as he had thought. Want. Yes, he definitely wanted Ray.

He soundlessly mouthed the name as his hands began to roam over what he'd been dreaming of all day. His hands pressed Ray down. He settled his body on the slight form, kneeing his thighs apart. "I want to sample you." His voice was no more than a whisper now. "I want to taste every part of you." His lips sought Ray's. Gentle. Tender. Leisurely. He wanted his love to understand that this was meant as a beginning to much much more. Slowly he twined his tongue with the other. Ray's body reacted immediately as his bones dissolved into liquid and rushed to the lower half of his body.

Fraser worked his way to an ear, licked the hollow of the wonderfully flushed throat. He rubbed his cheek against the soft fur of Ray's bare chest . Ray's hands were always there, always pulling him closer. Fraser sucked two fingers into his mouth and gently ran his tongue over them before kissing the tender palm. Then back to the dark haired chest where he nibbled on hard, crinkled nubs. Ray moaned deep in his throat. "A feast, Ray, not a mere sample."

Ray didn't argue. His hands roamed over as much of Fraser's skin that he could touch and he planted his feet flat on the bed to give himself enough leverage to gyrate against the pale abdomen that was pressing against him. Fraser could read the signs. Ray was impatient with his slow moving sampling.

"Benny - couldn't you skip around a bit? You can always come back to what you've missed but, I gotta tell ya, I really hope you're ready to sample something with a bit more sustenance?"

Fraser laughed softly. "Oh, I suppose I could skip around a bit. If you're sure ..." His hand crept between them. His fingers tangled momentarily in the curls then without warning, encircled him.

Ray's hips arched off the bed almost bucking Fraser from his perch. He rode it out, coming to his knees in one fluid motion and at the same time, lowered his lips to the already thrusting erection.

Gravity forced Ray back to the bed as he shuddered under his caressing tongue. Ray's hands fisted in the sheets, his body writhing as Fraser took him soaring in this sensuous flight. He tried to push Fraser away, another moment and he'd get a sample he wouldn't soon forget. But Fraser was having no part of it but went faster, sucking harder until Ray knew it was too late. He cupped the back of Fraser's neck and shuddered, pouring himself into the waiting container of his Mounties mouth. Moments later, he was gathered into strong arms and pulled into a kiss.

"Just a sample, Ray. That's all this is. Just a sample of what is to come."

Ray had no strength, no breath left to answer. He wrapped his arms around the solid flesh of his lover and drifted peacefully to sleep.

~End~

Disclaimer: This story is intended for the private amusement of fans. No violation of any copyrights held by Alliance Comm., CBS, CTV, TNT or others is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for it to be reproduced for profit. The author makes no claims on the characters or their use in the creation of this story.

Mitch Hudson@hotmail.com
the_wolfwalker@mailexcite.com
Members of the due South Slash Site
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Lofts/5843 Members of The Real due South
http://www.geocities.com/~westracine01