The Game

11:55 p.m. EST - 12/31/99 - Deserted warehouse outside of Washington, D.C.

The hand around my throat was getting tighter; black dots swimming before my eyes. //Wonder if I'd make the paper as the first death of the year?//

I slam my fist against his midsection hoping I have enough power left to loose his grip on me. It works and he's momentarily away from my throat. I take in much needed air in great gulps; all the while trying to anticipate his next move.

I don't have long to wait. He charges at me, shoving me against the cinder block wall. The rough surface scratches my back as we scrabble for dominance.

He kicks my feet out from under me and I find myself face down on the frigid concrete. Not wholly bad, actually. The cold briefly numbs the oozing cut on my cheek.

"Give it up, Fox. You'll never beat me," he sneers.

I struggle against the arm that holds me down, even though we both know I'm unable to free myself. Just another part of the game.

"You ready?"

I can feel him hard and hot between the cheeks of my ass as he leans over me. Even through two layers of denim our bodies respond to one another as though it were skin against skin. "Yes," I ground out, unable to stop myself from pushing back into the heated steel.

He reaches around and unbuttons my pants. The chill rush of air collides with the heat of my groin as he yanks my jeans down. I am completely exposed to him, offering myself in reckless abandon as I've done so many times these past few weeks.

His hand leaves my back as he struggles with his own pants. I could run. There's nothing holding me here. Nothing but my desire for him. In the end, it works as well as any restraint; perhaps better.

He sighs as he pushes against me. This is where he wants to be as well. I try to help him enter me; the need edging me closer to the place where I lose all control.

The head of his cock breaches me and from there it's a slick slide until he's completely sheathed. My eyes are shut, lips curled. I concentrate on the silken feel of him as he rides me from behind. How I wish we were facing one another.

From somewhere far away I hear the distant sound of fireworks as the new millennium dawns. It seems a fitting tribute to the pairing of such volatile bodies. He's close now; I can hear the tell tale mewling sounds he makes right before he comes.

His right arm snakes around my waist, pulling me back into the cradle of his lap. I turn and our mouths meet, tongues lashing out; sucking. I feel his hand as it closes around me, stroking me in time with his thrusts. He moans loudly and I am right there with him; coating his hand as he gushes into me.

"Happy New Year, Fox," he sighs, nipping my lips as I settle back against him.

"Yes, Alex it is," I answer.