Date: Mon, 17 Jul 2017 17:17:08 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Ravens Claw 7

See original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritaria/ravens-claw/) for
warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights
reserved. Includes sex between young-adult and adult men. Go away if any of
that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my
characters. Write if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of
future stories. Donate to Nifty **TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html
to keep the cum coming.

*****

Still flirty, Bobby retorted, "Do you worst, Mr Big Brother." A low,
muffled, needy moan, the sound of a wounded animal trying desperately to
get eaten more quickly than he already was, echoed briefly through the
room. Jackson and Aaron looked at each other nonplussed, but Bobby turned a
vivid crimson and, grabbing them both, rushed the door. "Um, yeah, we need
to get over there, like, now." Bobby was the only one who knew the sound to
be his attempt a couple nights earlier to swallow Matt's entire cock in a
single piece as his own was being sent into a heaven of
previously-unexplored pleasure by Matt's amateur fellatio.

*****

Raven's Claw 7: Mouthing Off (P3)

By Bear Pup

*****

Carter smiled. "Well, well, well. Now that we're all here, we'll talk about
today's lessons." Jackson, Bobby and Aaron all heard their bands DING as
they entered and collected rather hefty trays of lunchy things before they
sat.

"The last two days were about using the body in sexual and sexy ways. Today
we start with the mouth. Oh, please. Settle down. There are dozens of ways
to use the mouth in a sexually-charged environment. Today, we'll talk about
two of them, the way you talk and the way you smile."

Sean took up the narrative. "I'm going to put up a series of photos on the
large screen. On your digidesk, adjectives will appear like 'sexy' and
'needy' and 'angry' and 'bored' and 'approachable'. They'll be about ten
per picture. Pick all that you think apply. I'll give you an example."
Sean's own face showed up on the monitor with a sly grin. "*Obviously* you
would pick 'sexy' and 'approachable' and 'hot' and 'delicious' and, if
available, 'fuckable' as well."

The guys laughed and Bobby quipped, "Um, where's 'modest' on the list?" and
even Sean laughed at that.

The first dozen photos were in the mode of actors' head shots. Words like
'moody' and 'intelligent' and 'vacant' and 'kissable' along with dozens of
other words popped up. Sean or Carter would pause occasionally and point
out convergences among the answers, or get one or another of the guys to
explain why they picked a certain adjective or didn't pick one others had
chosen. It became a game, and a fun one.

Guys broke off frequently for snacks or such, and occasionally were caught
daydreaming. The first one really busted, though, was Ned. There was a
gasp, then a raucous round of laughter as Ned's face appeared on the
screen. He had an intense look, fierce and focused, staring slightly to one
side. His lips were a thin, hard line. A quick glance showed everyone that
the only thing that would have been in his field of vision was... Bobby.

Even Ned was rolling with laughter as the various adjectives popped up on
the large screen as guys poked and prodded their digidesks. The number one
choice was 'desperate' followed by 'hungry' and 'predatory'. 'Pathetic' and
'leaking' made the list as well. The guys were having a blast at Ned's
expense until the loudest of them, Jackson, found his own mug plastered on
the wall.

His tongue was curled slightly, just visible on his lower lip. The edges of
his mouth were turned up into a lascivious grin. The angle made it
impossible to guess where his attention lay, but the adjectives popped fast
and furious: 'Obsessed' got seven votes, including Jackson's himself, while
'ferocious', 'determined', 'hunting', 'lustful' and 'kinky' got more than
one apiece. The rest of the half-session found teammates appearing amid the
stock photos. Surprises included Paul's 'stoic' and 'resigned' and Aaron's
'hunted' and 'willing'.

The second half felt like a typical English class. A wide variety of words
and phrases were picked apart for meaning, insinuation and tone. One of the
simplest, a three-word phrase, "Yeah, you're hot!" took fifteen minutes as
various inflections were discussed and the subtle nuances of intent were
teased out. Everything from, 'You've got a fever!' to 'I'd rather sleep
with a porcupine!' to 'Fuck me you fool!' could all be packed into that
same three-word phrase to the amazement and dismay of the team. They were
told the vocal communication lessons would continue to be a daily part of
their education from that point forward.

Howie and a somewhat taller, thinner but very fit man collected them for
the Sex part. They were, as was everyone they saw now, naked. Howie asked
even as they were settling, "Tell me sexy things that are not directly part
of sexual acts themselves that the mouth is used for. For now, keep it
above the waist. Vinny!"

Matt spoke, "Um, coach, can you call him Vincent, please? Vinny, well,
Vinny was his evil twin?" It got a laugh.

"Okay, Vincent?"

"Uh, um, Kissing?"

"Good. Aaron!"

"Seduction?"

"Keep it within the scope of this class, not Sexuality. Try something
else."

"Licking?"

"Good, but give me an example."

"Licking someone's, um, ears?"

"Good. Jackson!"

"Nipples."

"Very good. Arguably sex-specific but it's fine. Other things that get
licked are everything from toes to fingers, pits to necks. Other than
licking and kissing. Ned!"

"Um, well, I might get shot down but, um, whispering? Purring in his ear?
Sexy sounds?"

"Exceptional. Very, very good. Sex itself should be vocal. Bobby!"

"Moaning, screaming and fuck noises?" Everyone laughed but Howie nodded
approvingly.

"Exactly. Signaling your partner that he's pushing your buttons. Paul?"

Paolo tilted his head to one side, then the other. "Um, Coach, I really
can't think of anything else."

"Okay, Matt? You're last. Got anything?"

"Maybe, but it might be Seduction. What about, um, eating?"

"Give the kid a fucking cigar! Well done and hard to spot in context. Yes,
cooking and eating can be part of the sexuality, the seduction, but it is
an incredibly-important kind of foreplay. In fact, I believe that Ned got
his early point lead from bananas?" That got a laugh as well. "As a
husband, you'll probably want to cook special things just as your husbands
will want to treat you. I want to introduce you to Chef Walter
Grayling. Call him Chef."

"Gentlemen," the man's voice was cultured, crisp and rich with a light but
unguessable accent, "for a few hours a week, I'll be teaching you to take
care of the culinary needs of yourselves and your husbands. Food can and
should be both sensual and sexy. We'll talk about what makes it so, as well
as examples that, while wonderfully-delicious, are sadly impossible to sex
up. First, other things fixed exclusively in the oven, grill or microwave,
who here has experience cooking?"

Vincent raised his hand, as did Matt and Paolo. Paul was the complete
surprise. That the quiet stud had ever seen the inside of a kitchen was a
bit of a shocker.

"Vin--cent," Chef caught himself in time, "Give me examples of what you
cook."

I little of the cocky Vinny slipped in, "Pasta, baby! And anything with a
red sauce or ricotta involved." Chef smiled.

"Good. There is an amazing array of extremely sexy things in the Italian
food world. Paul?"

"Churrasco and the sauces. Anything that goes inside an empanada but I
can't make the dough. Feijoada. Barreado, of you know that one." There was
an edge of challenge in his voice.

Chef smiled. "Well, you've been in the US long enough I can't cheat and use
your accent, but obvious your family is from Paraná if you make Barreado
worth eating. Probably not Curitiba, though, you'd have mentioned
fish... maybe inland?"

Paul's mouth worked for a minute, "Cascavel, yeah." He looked like he'd
been pinned by an eighth-grade girl.

"Good. Maybe you can help me make a better refogado." Paul nodded absently.

"Last, I think, was Matt?

"Um, yeah. I do, did, um, most of the cooking."

"Excellent. What do you enjoy cooking most?"

"Baking, where you have to be precise or it fails. And soups so you can
fiddle with it and make better." He blushed at his quick and unguarded
answer.

"Okay, you three have your work cut out for you. Based on the utterly-blank
or terrified gazes on your temp-husbands' faces, I'm not sure some of them
will know what the knobs are for on a stove. Sorry, didn't I mention? You
will teach each other. I'm here to help and correct bad form, and
occasionally challenge you." A look of universal, 'Oh, fuck!' ran through
the room.

"So, each of the three of you get to teach your first lesson. Tonight and
tomorrow there will be three kitchen stations in the Social Room.

"Vincent, you will teach Aaron and Ned to make fresh linguini and cook it
properly; there'll be a pasta roller at your station.

"Paul, you will teach Ned and Jackson to trim and cook picanha and you'll
have a modified churrasqueira (actually a gas spit-roaster).

"Matt, you get to teach Jackson and Aaron to make rolled biscuits, your
choice of type but they can't be sweet.

"Three nights hence, the four of THEM will cook all of us dinner of
picanha, pasta and savory biscuits. I will supply sauces and a few other
side dishes. You three get *or lose* points based on how good *they*
do. Won't that be fun!"

The shocked silence that greeted that question sent Howie into gales of
mirth. When he recovered, he said, "Chef will be rooming with you guys the
next two nights so he'll join you each evening for Social Time and is there
to help *as he sees fit*. He'll bunk with Ned tonight. Paul will be with
Vin--uh, Vincent. Bobby and Jackson together. Aaron and Matt round out the
group. Yes, Bobby?"

"Um, when we, you know, woke up? After the medical thing? We were in a room
with a really big bed. Can we, um, get those somehow?"

"Why I am glad you asked. If you haven't looked at The Exchange on your
digidesk today, you'll find a new entry called Room 5. It costs 200 points
per person with a minimum of three and a max of five. Each person pays his
own way."

"Um, sir, well, can we, you know, trade points?"

"Absolutely, Bobby. Points are currency. The only rule is that you must get
something of reasonable value in exchange. You cannot simply 'gift' points
to someone. A good example is that you've fucked up and really pissed off
someone. You can't 'buy' affection, but you can certainly give him 100
points for a long apology kiss or make-up sex."

Jackson's purr rolled out. "And if we want to pick a sleep-partner?" His
obsessive gaze was locked on Aaron as it had been off and on all day.

"That will become an option later, but for now only Room 5 allows
that. And, no, before you ask: You can NOT use points to bribe someone into
saying 'yes' to a romp in Room 5. It has to be mutual and open. Try any
shenanigans or locker-room-lawyer crap and you start over with zero
points. All gone. Poof. Are we clear?" Jackson had a very clear, 'Curses!
Foiled again!' look. "ARE WE CLEAR?"

"YES, COACH!" erupted from all seven guys.

"Okay then. Chef, we'll see you later. Thanks for the intro. Vincent,
front, please."

Vincent shuffled to the front where his usually-impressive frame was
dwarfed by Howie's heavily-furred bulk. "Vincent gave the answer to the
earlier question that will take up the rest of the lesson and the parts of
your time tonight not dedicated to cooking. Vincent, what was your answer
to what we use lips for other than actual sex?"

Vincent stared up at Howie's smile-crinkled eyes. A teensy voice came out,
"Oh, fuck, no." The guys chuckled a bit, but none laughed as they suddenly
realized exactly what today's lessons was going to entail.

Howie shifted in a way that put his bulk between Vincent's shell-shocked
face and the team, then spoke softly. "You can do this. I saw what you did
with Paul last night and that took a hell of a lot more guts than this. And
you laid into an incredibly kiss with Aaron, even if it was because you
knew he was daring you. But I know it's difficult going first, Vincent, so
I'll sweeten the pot. You do this, you do this well, you really put
yourself out there, and I'll give you some hints that will put you way
ahead for homework. I mean WAY ahead. You with me, stud? You man enough for
this?"

Vincent nodded his head like a tremor then took a deep breath. Howie could
see him put on his game face and knew just how much this was taking out of
the kid. He lightly rapped a knuckle on the youth's skull and put on his
best coach voice, "That's the man I know you are. Let's do this thing."
Vincent smiled weakly, knowing it for the pep talk it was.

Howie turned back to the waiting team, inwardly smiling at the mix of
expressions. Some were utterly-expected: Matt and Bobby looked like they
were ready to jump to the head of the line. Surprisingly, Jackson was
smiling broadly. Aaron was nervous and Paul had a very clear 'get it over
with' vibe, but Ned looked undone. Howie had seen the footage of his kiss
with Bobby, but it was clear that level of intimacy with anyone else
terrified him.

"Okay, gentlemen, I want you arranged as follows. First bench, Ned and
Matt. Second, Aaron and Bobby. Third, Jackson and Paul." The eagerness on
Bobby's face evaporated like mist as he realized that, for the first time,
he was going to be intimate in some way with his brother whose sexual
attraction he'd fought since puberty. Ned, on the other hand, relaxed
visibly.

"Vincent here has manfully agreed to be first up, and don't you believe for
a moment that it's not as scary a proposition for him as for any of
you. First, you'll stand facing your partner. You'll see that there is a
real height difference for me and Vincent, but that doesn't matter one
bit. A real kiss is not a lip thing, or even a mouth thing. It is a soul
and body thing. Keep eye contact as much as possible so your husband knows
you mean it, lean in, and start with a simple, closed-mouth kiss." Howie
demonstrated and could feel Vincent cringe, but also hide it very well. He
pulled back off.

"From there, allow your tongue to tease across his lips. Some guys don't
really like much tongue, others want you licking their belly-button from
the inside. You have to feel your way and find out what your partner finds
comfortable and arousing. In the meantime, your hands should be pulling
your husband into the kiss as well and letting him know just how into him
you are. Remember, the key is NOT getting into the kiss, it's getting into
the man you're kissing. And yes, Bobby, I saw that pun-based smirk and yes,
it just cost you three points."

"Aw, COACH!"

"Wanna go for ten? Then shut up and get your head in the game. This is
*difficult*, gentlemen. For the first time, you have to figure out with
very few signals what is and is not working for your husband, and make him
feel loved and appreciated, and let him know you mean it, AND do it without
-- this means you, Ned -- looking like you're trying to figure out a
calculus problem."

With that, he pulled Vincent up into him again, bending to meet him
halfway. Howie could feel how skittish the kid was, but Vincent rode with
it and suddenly was melting into the kiss with real passion. His hands
explored the man's wide back, pulling them closer together. One hand
finally found the back of Howie's neck. With that, Howie felt the magical
shift that comes when the kissed becomes the kisser and let himself be
taken places by a now-enthusiastic Vincent. He let it go a minute longer
then slowly and gently -- lovingly -- disengaged.

"Gentl--" Howie coughed to get his voice working well again. Vincent,
against all odd, could fucking KISS! He surveyed the shocked (and
salivating) faces of his class. "Gentlemen, I think you could tell that the
kiss was enjoyed by both of us, and very well done. If in doubt," he
pointed to his hard and dripping cock, "check the pop-up thermometer." He
looked at Vincent's smiling, bright red face.

"He also took us to Lesson Two, which I'll comment on earlier than
normal. You can be the person kissing, the person kissed or two can be
equal partners in a kiss. The last is actually rather rare. About halfway
through, you saw Vincent go from being kissed, to kissing me. And, by the
way, I can absolutely recommend Vincent if any of you need help with your
homework. Your buddy lit me up like an Arrival Day tree!" Everyone laughed,
including Vincent.

"Now, I want each set of you to kiss. The one on the right -- Matt, Bobby
and Paul -- be the more-aggressive partner for the first run-through. I'll
be circulating through you to give pointers and tips. Well, after I get
another piece of sugar from Vincent here." That got a really loud laugh
that stifled in gasps as Howie drove into a serious, graduate-level
kiss. He pulled to the side so he could whisper in Vincent's ear.

"You did more than well, Vincent. I wasn't kidding. You got mad kissing
skills, so you probably won't need my promised tips, but here they are:
Jackson has worked his ass off for years to build that body, and he loves
it when people notice it, praise it and maybe even worship it a little. He
melts like butter when that happens. Bobby just wants to know he's
appreciated, that he's really part of the team, that you guys care. Now,
use what I told you, Vincent, and you're headed for the top spots pretty
quick."

Howie tried to break the kiss and was shocked when Vincent locked him in
and gave him a very thorough, very thankful kiss. He looked deep into
Howie's eyes and said, "And what about you, coach?" There was a smile
there, but a seriousness in his eyes that spoke volumes.

Howie whispered, "For now, kid, focus on you team husbands. But I'm not
saying no to, well, some after-school tutoring further down the line?" He
gave Vincent's ass a coachish smack and started making the rounds.

Matt's kiss of Ned started tentative, but Matt finally realized that Ned
wasn't fighting it. After that, it became deep and tender. He jumped when
he heard Howie at his ear, softly coaching him. "Good, but put passion in
it, Matt. That kiss is telling him that you appreciate him, which is
fantastic, and that you want him to be happy. Make it tell him that you
want him in bed, too." Matt moaned into the kiss and Howie could see Ned
wriggle with unexpected pleasure. That sound had lit a fire in his libido
and Matt's kiss was fanning the flames.

Bobby was shaking with nerves, utterly shattered at the thought of kissing
his brother. He leaned in twice and pulled back. Aaron did not seem at all
upset, either at his hesitancy or the kiss itself. "I can't do this,
Aaron. I can't."

"Yes, little bro, you can. I... I'm finding a lot out about myself, kid,
and it, well, it doesn't bother me. But I'll tell ya what. The brother
thing is hard. I've tried for years not to, you know, be sexual around you
and vice versa. That ain't going away. Let's try this. Fuck the 'meet your
husband's eyes' shit. Close your eyes. Close em. Now, kiss Ned."

Bobby gasped in shock. Was he that obvious? How could he have been? He
never even knew himself! Then the image of Ned's strong, masculine jaw and
rippling shoulders muscled its way to the front and Bobby leaned in and let
his lips touch. He took in a long, deep breath and launched into the kiss
he had always needed. Like and yet unlike the post-orgasmic one with Ned
the night before, this was a kiss of burning tenderness, of need.

The difference in bodies finally cracked the dream-kiss and Bobby found he
was really kissing Aaron himself. But the veil that he'd tried to draw
across such a problem had been shredded. The kiss changed. In a way, it
became more intense as Bobby finally let himself loose on the young man
he'd idolized since childhood. He'd never thought there was a sexual
attraction there, but now couldn't care less. Sex, non-sex, love, lust?
Fuck all that. It was a kiss and by God, Aaron was gonna know he'd been
kissed by the end of it!

He jumped about a foot and Aaron did as well when Howie's rumbling voice
sounded close behind him. "Aaron, what changed about halfway through. No,
Bobby, hush. I want to know what Aaron sensed."

"He, uh, stopped kissing Ned and started kissing me?"

"Bingo. Bobby, I know you probably did that to get over the brother thing,
but you need to know, almost any guy can tell when you're kissing a
dream-lover instead of him. It doesn't work for your partner, even though
it might feel similar inside you. Try it again, this time start with Aaron,
not Ned."

Bobby leaned in, eyes wide open, and kissing his brother with real
passion. It came easier this time, because he really *did* love Aaron, and
poured over a decade of that love and adoration into the kiss. Aaron simply
melted like wax under the onslaught, completely caught off guard even after
the previous kiss.

"Paul," Howie's voice startled the two but not much. There had been very
little real interest from either he or Jackson. "Paul, I'm gonna stop you
both right here. You don't seem to get it, either of you. Paul, you go up
and partner with Vincent. Don't kiss him, let him kiss you. You need to
learn both sides. Right now, you're having trouble because you can't really
imagine what Jackson is supposed to feel or how to make that happen." Paul
frowned and shrugged, then fist-bumped Jackson before heading over to see
Vincent.

"Jackson," Howie kept his voice low, "what the fuck was that? I've seen you
kiss. You're damned good at it. Why suddenly turn into a cardboard cutout?"

"Well, Coach, it's different with Paul. He's, you know--"

"Be really careful how you finish that sentence, young man. If you were
getting ready to say something about him and you being 'manly' and the
others not, you are in for a world of disappointment. And it explains your
rank right now just north of the gutter. And in case you didn't notice, the
only one keeping you outta the basement is the other self-assigned
'stud'. *Everyone* out there now is a 'real man'.

"What we've found since Raven's Claw arrived is that some adjusted well,
some didn't. Those who kept the image of manly, macho dawgs on top of a
bunch of wimpy, weak boy-bitches underneath them are largely digging in the
garbage mines looking for reclaimable minerals. You can be as butch as you
want when you're waist-deep in 30-year-old Pampers. Or, you can man the
fuck up and get with the program."

Jackson's eyes were wide. There was real fear there for the first time
Howie had seen. "Now, I'm gonna kiss you and you're damned well gonna like
it. No, I am not making you my bitch or some other pre-Arrival crap. I'll
be kissing you the way you'd damned well better pray your husbands kiss
you, if you ever manage to get any!"

With that, he drove into Jackson. Whether the boy had really gotten the
memo or Howie's bulk allowed some hidden hatch in his brain to make the
kiss acceptable in a weird big-dog dynamic didn't matter right then. Howie
got the reaction he wanted. For the first time, Jackson was letting himself
be well and truly kissed with no attempt to control or dominate. Howie's
roving hands on his muscles made him want to purr and the intimacy. The
intense and visceral combination of allowing himself to be vulnerable and
yet strongly protected at the same time washed through him like a fever.

When the kiss finally broke, Jackson felt his eyes (and heart)
flutter. "Um, wow."

"Yeah, kid, that's what you've been missing. You want to feel that again?
Get off the Machismo Express to Hell and let the guys take you
places. You'll like it, and, frankly, they aren't likely to
complain. Because when you're not being a brain-dead prick, you are hot as
fuck. But play that suit too strong, keep thinking about conquests and
who's in control, and you're in for a seriously miserable life out there."

"Um, can I ask a personal question?"

Howie actually laughed. "After that kiss, NOW you want to get personal?"
Even Jackson chuckled. "Go for it."

"Um, are you married? I mean, do you have a husband?"

Howie pulled back. "I have four, actually. Our First Husband is in the
Protectorate Education Branch. It's one reason I was able to get a job
training guys who get woken up."

"So, um, who... you know, who does what?" The smack was classic coach
material and left Jackson's eyes vibrating.

"You may really be too dumb to live, Jackson. Everyone, listen up!" Howie
strode to the front. Most of the kisses had broken anyway. "Jackson just
asked a good question even though he didn't mean to. Some of you," he
scowled at Paula and Jackson, "still don't get it. There are no gender
roles anymore because there is only one fucking gender." The guys were
looking at him, a bit startled by the severe tone.

"I have four husbands, which isn't far off average right now. I love all of
them and they piss me off about every day. Just like any family. We don't
currently have any boys to raise, mainly because of professional
obligations that I won't go into right now. Not *one* of us is anyone's
bitch, or pussy, or ass. We are a family. And before you ask, yes, I get
fucked." The gasp of shock rocked the room.

"Please! Seriously? You guys have got to get past this shit. Manly and
macho and other words like that are relegated to old movies. Butch is still
around, but mainly as a jab at someone who is obviously trying too
hard. Bitch is something you do, like bitching about your boss. I can't
recall the last time I heard it used otherwise. There are some families who
like dominance games, bondage and that kind of play, but it's PLAY. And,
yes, we'll even have lessons on that kind of play. But unless you get over
this 'who's on top' bullshit, you are setting yourselves up for a life of
misery."

"You get... you know? Really?"

"Rob!" Howie bellowed, "Is Sean around?"

The disembodied voice replied, "He's on his way. He saw the direction the
questions were heading and he-- never mind."

The door opened and in walked Sean. "Yes, Howie really gets dot-dot-dot
*you knowed*, boyos. And he's damned fine at it to boot. He can do things
with his ass... mmm, mmm, mmm! And he'll be teaching you some of them,
too." He looked over the stunned faces and literally laughed. "You think
big equals fucking and little equals fucked? Or nice versus tough? Hairy
versus smooth? Christ! That's as bloody stupid as the Big Hands crap."

"Thanks, Sean."

"So, um, you get f-f-f-fucked, too? And you and Howie have..." Ned's voice
trailed off as his brain melted.

"Oh, yeah, I've been fucked. Not very often, as my husbands like me
to... concentrate of my real talent. As one of you knows, I give bloody
great head." Every eye swiveled to Aaron, then only one to have roomed with
Sean. "And, yes, I've been lucky enough to attract Howie's attention once
or twice. One reason Howie is so in demand as an instructor is that he is
the ultimate versatile. I can't think of anything, really, where he'd be
rated below 'fookin unbelievable' by most standards. Even with that ugly
slab that gave him his nickname; any ass that can take it is damned happy
to get it!

"Well, anyway, I've used too much of your kissing time. Howie, you need me
for anything?"

Howie let a long leer into his voice, "Maybe not... *right* now. You home
with your family tonight or staying here?"

"Actually, it's Kenny's birthday, so I'll take a rain check."

"Um, Kenny?" Bobby's voice this time.

"Oh, sorry, Kenny is one of my husbands. Second-youngest, actually."

"Um, what do you get a husband for a birthday?"

Sean laughed, "Well, I got him new socks, actually. I tend to be the
practical one. His *real* gift... well, I'll tell you that in one of our
own classes. It's a bit of an... advanced skill?" He smiled and walked out
on seven wide-open jaws and a smirk from Howie.

Rob watched at the class progressed. Howie shifted them between partners
frequently for the rest of the day, honing what little technique they
had. Rob had a big stack of notes for Daniel and the others. Paul was
shaping up to be a problem. On the rare occasions where he really tried, he
still couldn't seem to get the hang of kissing another male except for
Aaron and Matt. Ned's ability and enthusiasm seemed to be an obverse of
Paul's and Jackson's; the more masculine the partner, the harder he had to
try. The difference was not indifference or reluctance like the other two,
but (according to the monitors) outright fear. He was scared to open
himself up to perceived-stronger men.

Howie saved the coupling with the highest likelihood of combustion for
last: Ned and Vincent. Ned's kiss was nearly a mouth-rape, not trace of
tenderness or even respect. He 'did his assignment' and that was
it. Vincent, though, acted as if that had never happened and gave Ned a
deep and shockingly-effective kiss that rocked Ned's world to the core. As
they broke, a breathless and shaking Ned stared at Vincent, completely
undone. Vincent simple looked at his with real sincerity. "Thank you. I
know it was hard for you to let me do that. Really, thank you." Ned was
absentmindedly rubbing his fingers over his lips as Vincent turned toward
Howie who had started talking about assignments.

<eof>

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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
Canvas Hell: 32 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/
Beaux Thibodaux: 23 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/
The Heathens: 25 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/
Lake Desolation: 17 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/
Shark Reef: 10 chapters .../adult-youth/shark-reef/
Culberhouse Rules: 8 chapters .../incest/culberhouse-rules/
Raven's Claw: 7 chapters .../authoritarian/ravens-claw/
Ashes & Dust: 2 chapters .../rural/ashes-and-dust/