DD Keane is the pen name of a marvelous grrrl, and in her secret fantasies, she's a slutty twink with a porn star husband and a champagne spoodle named Kevin.
(Perhaps, I'm the sole keeper of the secret reason behind that doggie name.)
This is my gift to her because she's a fabulous friend.
Brighton,
East Sussex, England
The cheerful pastel
colors of the row of town houses welcomed him. He opened their door; his key
chain only had three keys, he never drove. The business in Amsterdam had gone
well, and now if everything went as programed, they would be living in America
by the end of the year.
The house was deserted.
DD had come back from Los Angeles the day before, and had surely taken Kevin to
play at the park. A yellow envelope, the size of a magazine, waited for him
with his name written in silly kindergarten, script. Not DD’s handwriting.
MR.
LUKE HAMILTON
CONFIDENTIAL
The strange envelope
partied with the assorted mail accumulated during their separate business
trips. It was marked as delivered the previous day by an expensive
courier company. Somebody wanted this information to reach him quickly. It
didn’t say where it had come from, though.
Luke tore the envelope
apart, something creepy emanated from the strange parcel. Inside, another
envelope and a folded page, like one ripped from a copybook. It only had eight
words on it with the same unnerving child-like calligraphy.
For
you Luke. Tristan York and the senator.
Tristan York was the
most sought-after Twink porn star of the decade. He had won Best Bottom for five
consecutive years, at four international ceremonies, on three different
continents; nearly a hundred and fifty porn titles under his belt.
Or
should Luke say between his cheeks?
Fan loved, director
acclaimed and co-stars exalted, foxy Tristan York happened to love his trade;
he also happened to be Luke’s husband, Dylan Daniel Keane.
Neatly folded again,
the note went into his pocket. Luke debated whether to open the damned intrigue
or not. Ok, he was also a porn star, and they fucked people for a living, but
they only fucked others on set, for the cameras. Away from the porn world, they
were committed to a monogamous relationship. They never did private shows
together or separate, no matter how much money was over (or under) the table.
Everyone wondered how,
if your day job was cock and ass and balls, you could be in a monogamous
relationship. It had the simplest, clear as water explanation; Luke and DD had
only fucked once. No, their relationship was not frigid due to the extensive
use of their body parts with others. After their first encounter (on set, when
they met), every single other time it had been lovemaking.
Big difference.
What they did that afternoon,
long ago, surrounded by another ten men, had been magic from the beginning. The
texture of DD’s pouty lips, his lightly tanned skin and those otherworldly
violet eyes enraptured Luke like no other co-star before. Forget about cock-sucking,
butt-clenching mad skills, it had been the way DD tasted; the way he’d looked
into Luke’s eyes as Luke claimed that tight hole with desperation.
The chemistry so
explosive, it had been palpable on screen, and that gave DD his first awards:
best bottom, best couple, best new-cummer.
A luster later, Luke’s
heart was so entwined with DD’s, his love would remain unshaken no matter what
was inside this problematic envelope. His first instinct was to get rid of the piece
of crap, unopened. He wished their fireplace alight, crackling happily to
devour this nonsense. But he needed to open it, those things left in the dark
were the ones that festered and poisoned a relationship; whatever this was, it
would have an explanation.
Luke would be pissed off
with the fucker who sent it, not with DD.
In the silent living
room, the ripping of the nasty machination sounded like rending a sacred veil;
nothing good ever came out of an anonymous note.
And there it was, DD in
bed with the alleged senator. It would have been less of a stab if the man had
been a creepy codger, but the guy was fairly muscled and distinguishedly
handsome. A man, Luke would not mind doing a scene with.
A
reason must exist, Luke. Don’t let that thing crawling in your chest seize you.
Now was one of those
rare moments when he wished he had his own car. He needed to be out, surrounded
by people, noise, smells --to be able to forget these pictures. Only one image
showed DD riding the stranger: the painless one; Luke admired the way DD’s body
moulded to other men. They were porn stars for fuck’s sake. The other seven
scorched his eyes, scarred his brain.
Luke felt sick: DD sharing
a cigarette and smiling; DD in bed with the dingbat, laughing at a joke; the prat
carrying DD piggyback on a motherfucking yacht. How did DD have
time to do all this with that pillock?
DD had gone to LA for a
shoot. Luke drew his mobile from his Gucci fuck-me
jeans, ready to call that numpty of a producer, who was surely behind this stinking
bucked of horseshit. His contacts scrolled angrily, and then Luke stopped the
rolling names, an inch from giving himself a hard slap. What the fuck was he
doing?
He must wait for DD and
find out why the pictures, why the laughter. He, Luke, should be the only one
capable of making DD laugh and smile like that.
Deep in his heart, he felt
murderous.
****
The entrance opened
with a bang, and Kevin barged in stretching and yawning, his shaggy hair more
tousled than ever, he must have had a lot of fun at the park. His dark beady
eyes found Luke and he rushed (skipping merrily), desperate for a hug. Luke crouched
down to pet him, “Did you miss me, boy?” Kevin lapped at him affirmatively and
whimpered a little. They rubbed noses. The champagne spoodle’s cold nose was a
welcome balm for the darkness lurking not so far from Luke’s surface.
“Hey, baby. You didn’t
call to say you were coming today.” DD smiled, playing with Kevin’s leash like
a cowboy readying a lasso; platinum hair perfect, as if coming from a
hairdresser and not from the not-wild outdoors. Violet eyes shone with
undisguised happiness. A sleeveless T-shirt, stating in big bold red letters: I’m bloody fabulous, graced his slender
torso.
“Everything worked out
quicker than I thought it would.” Luke forced a smile, and DD sauntered toward
him, leaving Kevin’s neon pink leash (with bitty little black bones) forgotten
over the counter and encircling his arms around Luke’s neck.
“So many days without
tasting you,” DD purred, dotting pecks all over Luke’s face.
Luke didn’t know what
to do with his hands. Finally, he settled both on taut hips. “I missed you so
much.” He returned the kisses tentatively.
“Is something wrong?”
DD studied him at arm’s length. “You must be really tired, I hate Schiphol. I
don’t know why Amsterdam has to have the stupidest airport in the world.”
“It’s no worse than
Barajas.”
Yes
keep talking about airports, they are always nightmares and will keep your mind
away from deception.
DD snickered, grinding
their groins. “Madrid is fun.”
As much as Luke’s
husband had a thing for blonds, tall with fair skin and even fairer eyes (in
other words Luke’s clones) there were moments when tall, dark and gypsy-like
was a welcome kink. But then again, DD appreciated male beauty in all its
forms, which brought us back full circle to that dolt of a senator.
I’m
completely sure he’s from one of those backward, bible-thumping, homophobic
states.
Those were the worst
bigots and the biggest closeted queens.
How in the seven
studios did that pillock get a hold of DD? Luke shouldn’t let his mind wander
to such rotten places. He had DD in his arms; everything was going to be OK.
Pushing Jealousy and Betrayal into a far corner, Luke let Lust steer his
burning body, he practically tore off DD’s shirt in his haste to get rid of it.
“That’s what I’m
talking about.” DD murmured, as they became all teeth and hands, clothes flying
in every direction.
Luke turned DD and
pushed him against the counter with a little more force than needed and yet the
whimper escaping DD was more one of encouragement than actual distress. He
raked his fingers along the tanned, perfect skin of the magnificent angular
back, and DD purred, arching his column and canting his ass towards Luke’s
flag-bearing cock.
The leash became a fastening
as Luke pulled DD’s arms back and secured them with the pink accessory. DD
blurted out, “Shit, where’s a sodding collar when you need one?”
“I’ll get you one soon
enough if you’re a good boy.” Luke groaned into his husband’s ear.
“Oh fuck, Oh fuck, Oh
baby, need you, need you.”
When DD started to be repetitive,
it was because his brain was losing oxygen due to all the blood rushing
southward. Luke stroked the elegant piece of manhood, still leaning most of his
weight over his beloved’s arched back. He kissed the base of DD’s neck, then
each slightly noticeable vertebra in a slow procession towards his main goal.
He did a short stop, as
quick as a detour could be, digressing to suck all flexing fingers of both
restrained hands. Afterwards, he laved rounded mounds with long brushes of his
tongue. A chorus of moans, grunts and groans rewarded him, and a dark hand
squeezed his heart while his cock neared the point of no return.
Only one solution here,
let himself drown in the body of the man he loved, override his brain, allow
his heart to rule, and yet, the images of DD laughing with the senator circled
him like a thousand vultures.
No, it was flesh and
taste and smell that he needed to numb his mind. Luke buried his face into the pungent
crevice. The piquant aroma of a long walk at the park assaulted him, and he greeted
it with abandon, letting his tongue become a hard-on and taking his pleasure
with more than taste buds and flaring nostrils.
The puckered hole
suffered his teeth, and DD writhed, pushing back and grunting, “Fuck, more.”
Luke pulled DD’s cock back between lean, smooth legs; shaved balls became a
fluid pillow, cushioning Luke’s chin as he stroked, milked, commanded.
****
The little angel over
his right shoulder (sporting a golden cock-ring) said, “Trust him.” The little
devil on the other shoulder (sticking a trident up his tiny ass) said, “He
cheated.” Could this situation be more cartoonish?
He had his face ensconced
between the most glorious glutes in the universe, and he was letting figments
of his imagination dictate his actions.
Reluctantly, Luke stood
from his knees to his full height and used forefinger and thumb to spread those
delectable cheeks, working the glistening tight hole with his other hand. DD
welcomed one, two, three fingers (pushing backwards) and grunted, “Fuck, Luke.
You’re killing me; are you gonna ram that cock in my fucking hole or not?”
But Luke was unhinged
by the otherworldly sight in front of him.
Sweet
Mercy, goose bumps explode throughout these creamy cheeks as my fingers stroke
his prostate; tawny like freshly baked buns.
Not just the supple
body drove him crazy; everything in his husband was designed to take him beyond
human boundaries: his voice, his eyes, the way he moved, the way DD lay in
Luke’s arms after they made love.
“Come for me, baby.”
Luke growled, biting an adorable earlobe and plucking DD’s insides with the
same skill used to serenade him with the guitar abandoned in their bedroom.
“Oh bloody Schiphol
banging Barajas!” DD shuddered, spraying the base of the counter, the floor and
everything within a mile radius as if he hadn’t come in ages.
Such mess could
not wait for the little lady.
I
am a mess.
Luke untied DD and
turned him around. He kissed his lover swiftly on the lips and knelt, using his
mouth to clean the spent cock with guilty devotion.
DD stroked Luke’s hair,
his violet eyes luminous, “What got into you?” He chuckled as Luke gave one
last swipe with his tongue. “That was awesome.”
“No. It was wrong.”
“What’s going on?” DD
pulled Luke’s chin up.
Still with DD’s hand
holding his chin, he moved his face towards the counter, “Yellow envelope.” Luke
was surprised DD hadn’t noticed it while leaning over the counter; he’d most likely
had his eyes shut tight and his mouth in a permanent O.
Arching an eyebrow, DD
released Luke’s chin, took the package from Hell and (opening it) snorted,
browsing the pictures. He scrunched his face, which made Luke feel lower than shit
inadvertently borrowed from the doggie park. “This is nothing.”
The pictures landed higgledy-piggledy
on the pile of assorted mail. DD leaned in to cup Luke’s face with both hands
and stopped abruptly, surely seeing the remorse (like ruined mascara) all over
his lover’s exterior.
“You laughed with him.
No one should make you laugh like that but me.”
“So your problem is not
that I fucked someone outside the set, but us laughing together?”
Luke nodded (still on
his knees) shrinking not just physically but mentally.
Kneeling, DD settled
both hands on Luke’s shoulders, giving him a pointed scowl. Naked and sweaty,
DD looked so beautiful, his entire demeanor made Luke shiver. He grunted,
“There. Is. An. Explanation. Do you want to hear it?” His platinum hair gave
him the halo of a terrible angel.
“I don’t know.”
“After five years, you
should have a little more faith in me.” DD shook Luke, “Fuck, gimme some bloody
credit at least.”
Already covered in his
own shit, Luke might as well let his husband explain. “Okay, let me have it.”
DD growled a little and
narrowed his eyes, but started talking. “It was a plot to blackmail that
sucker. That closeted queen is the one making the biggest campaign against
same-sex marriage. So a bunch of radicals contacted me while in L.A. because
his closest confidant heard him saying how much he wanted to fuck me.” He shook
his head as if tired of many unnamed things. “We became British and were able
to get married, baby; it seemed only fair to give Americans the same chance.”
“They’re going to
expose him.” It was for a good cause, right?
“I said blackmail. The
idea was to force him to turn his agenda one-eighty. Sadly, when
everything was ready to strike, the idiot goes and lets himself get caught with
a minor at a highway rest stop.”
“A boy?”
His husband spat out,
“Nope, a twelve-year old girl. Bloody psycho.”
“Well, that’s good;
he’s exposed as a pervert.”
“Yeah, he’s discredited
all right, but that doesn’t help the fight for equality there. If the radicals
used the pictures now, those vicious bitches of Congress would find a way to
turn them around and make all homosexuals look like pedophiles.”
Shit.
****
“So now you understand
why my next award should be an Oscar.”
Luke nodded, contrite.
He stroked DD’s cheek, both sat on their haunches, still facing each other on
the living room floor next to the defiled counter. “I don’t know what came over
me.”
“Part of me wants to
feel great because you love me enough to be jealous, but another part is
seriously disgusted by your lack of trust.”
“How can I beg your
forgiveness?”
But DD had that face
like whenever he was thinking really hard: eyes unfocused and brow furrowed. “I
have to make some calls. This bloody parcel is a fucking intrigue, and it has
to be an inside job. Very few people knew about this plot; let alone had access
to the pictures. Whoever did this was trying to break us apart.”
True, the perpetrator
didn’t use DD’s real name. “Happiness always has enemies.” Luke murmured sadly.
“And you were gonna let
whoever the fuck this son of a bitch is do it.”
“Did I say sorry?” Luke
grinned, sheepish.
“Oh your ass is so
paying for your distrust.”
“Gladly,” Luke was sure
his eyes twinkled.
“Don’t start doing a
happy dance, you’re not gonna get out of this easily.” DD got to his feet,
picked Kevin up from the sofa he was dozing on and headed toward their bedroom.
“What are you doing?”
Luke moved to stand up.
“I don’t want Kevin
licking my mess, and you, mister,
stay right on your knees where you are.”
Uh-oh, Luke knew that
tone. DD was royally pissed off, and an angry husband was dangerous (and
extremely hot). “Yes, sir,” his
attempt to avoid sounding delighted by the incoming punishment was
unsuccessful.
“I heard that.” DD
thundered from the bedroom, implying he had recognized Luke’s enthusiasm. “You
are in so much trouble, and it’s getting worse by the minute.”
DD came back with an
armful of objects and gloriously hard like a train. He let things fall on the
carpeted floor; the soft thud marking each landing and Luke’s ragged breathing
the only sounds around them: a spiked collar, a paddle, a butt plug, a whip, a
bottle of lube, a box of condoms and a pair of handcuffs.
His twink had a dark
side, and that sexy as Hell darkness had come to play.
“I’m going to fuck you to
within an inch of your life for not trusting me.” DD admonished, his face
severe, twenty years older than his actual twenty-five years lived.
“I deserve it. I accept
it. Thank you.” Luke looked into his husband’s violet eyes, and a faint smile briefly
interrupted the severity of those handsome features.
“Don’t thank me yet,
Luke. I haven’t started.” DD narrowed his eyes, “Whip.”
With trembling hands,
anticipation thrumming throughout his body, Luke offered the whip as one would
an oblation to a thundering god. Hair covered his eyes as Luke looked at DD’s
stupidly pretty toes.
The whip left his open
palms, and DD growled, “Cock in your mouth now.”
As the massive schlong
inched its way in, Luke closed his eyes, savoring the texture, drowning in
width. His lips grazed the thatch of platinum pubic curls. DD’s cock head
pushed his uvula and the sting of the first lash kissed his ass.
This
is going to be so much fun.
PS. the cover boy is mine, thanks to Drawplus ^_^
