Date: Fri, 14 Aug 2009 14:12:56 +0100
From: g d <wheels-on-fire@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Superior Connections - ch4

I'd like to start today with a thank you to my readers for the feedback
I have had so far. I'd also like to apologise for the time it has taken me
to publish this chapter, but I have found myself being busier then I
expected. I hope you enjoy the story as much or more then I do enjoy
writing it.

This is my first story of this genre and context. Please tell me what you
think by sending me your comments, views and general feedback to
wheels-on-fire@hotmail.co.uk. The general disclaimer applies; any
connections to names are purely coincidental. This story is for an adult
audience, so please do not read if you are under the age of 18, or it is
illegal to do so in your county. This story is purely fictional, none of
these events have actually happened.

Superior Connections -- Chapter 4

Christian awoke in the night. Under the low light which the long curtains
failed to disclose he could see a broad surface in front of him. He
extended his hand forwards and traced the cool flesh with his fingers.
Jacques did not move or stir. Christian moved his hand to the muscled
shoulder, to the front and down a little and lightly caressed Jacques'
peck. A slight squeeze confirmed that Jacques was asleep. Christian's hand
moved further down the mans body. Under the sheet, over his relaxed stomach
and finally on the flaccid penis. It was smaller. Cold. He played with it
in his hand for a few moments before leaving it and holding the mans peck
again. His board shoulders meant that spooning this man was difficult, but
he felt safer if he had contact with the slow breathing man in front of
him. Drifting back into sleep, Christian played with Jacques chest hair,
the soft curls felling wonderful under his fingertips.

When Christian next awoke it was morning. He looked up and saw that Jacques
was awake. He turned onto his side, reaching up to Jacques face and
initiated a kiss. He found that his mouth was dry. He felt as if he needed
a drink of water, but he had no wish to rise out of bed just yet. He was
also very conscious that he was naked under the sheets and did not feel
very comfortable about getting up and walking around Jacques apartment and
helping himself to drinks and glasses. He remembered the lack kettle from
the night before. Noted how long it was since he had last filled his jaw
with liquid. He shared a smile, but only with himself, thinking how clever
Jacques was to seduce this farm boy in the time it took to boil a kettle.
Jacques smiled back, bringing Christian out of his thoughts. Their smiles
changed to puckered lips as once again they shared a kiss. Jacques placed
his hand on the back of Christian's head. He drove Christian to kiss his
neck. He pressed down leading the boy to his nipples. Instinctively
Christian latched on, kissing and licking his numbs to points. This
twitched on the ignition. Christian's hand reached down and found the hand
break was raised. He wanted to make the man happy. He was not sure of what
he was doing, but the man had directed him so far so he felt that he could
manage something worth moaning about.

Leaving Jacques nipples, Christian's tongue traced where his fingertips had
gone the night just gone. He could see the hard cock. He could smell the
musk of sweat and male hormones. The skin was soft and smooth, like
velvet. He could feel the blood pumping into it, the heat, the stiffness.
He wanted to taste it again. His fist wrapped around the base. His tongue
left his mouth and slowly licked the helmet, tasting the salt, the sweat,
the flesh. Again he was reminded that he was parched. He just hoped that he
would be able to find a small well of moisture to side the tool over his
tongue. By desire and will power, a well was found and he salivated over
the cock. He sucked and lapped. He loved it! He did not know what he was
doing. He struggled to take the bulk of it. It was large and things always
feel bigger in the mouth. Needless to say, he tried his best. He had had
much practice with his hands, experimenting on himself, so he included
these; masturbating the man as if he was using a stick shift.  He manually
drove Jacques to orgasm. He moved back, sat on his hunches when Jacques
came. He was not all too keen on cum at this moment in time. He looked very
pleased with himself.

As Jacques came down from his orgasm high, he reached out and kissed
Christian, drawing him close. Their skin stuck together by the glue Jacques
had just created. Christian didn't really want to touch it. Jacques sensed
Christian pulling away so he whispered into his ear, "Don't worry, it dries
clear."

Jacques pushed Christian off him and lead him between two cubes to the
bathroom. In one corner was the toilet, another a sink and to the right was
a shower stall (the door took the place of the fourth corner). Jacques
operated the shower. Told Christian to get in and turned to the toilet
where he let go of a strong stream of urine. Christian felt rather
uncomfortable. He had never been so close to someone while they urinated.
He had certainly never been in a bathroom naked with someone before. He
turned to examine the white tiles, noting that the filling had no mould or
discolouring. Jacques opened the shower stall door. Letting the steam out
and throwing cold air over Christian's back. Christian turned once again to
face the man. There was not much space for them both in here. They were
still burdened with Jacques cum. Jacques squeezed a fair amount of soap
into Jacques hands. Before he could bring the gel to his body, Jacques said
"lather me up first." Christian did not feel it was strange for Jacques to
be ordering him to wash him, after all it was a small space and he was the
smaller person who could move about in smaller spaces. He assumed that this
must be what two men do, after sex, once they had shared a bed and a
bathroom together. He washed Jacques. Christians hands rubbed over the
mounded contours of his chest, the firm stomach and the now, once again
flaccid cock. Down his hairy legs, the strong, taught flesh which kept the
man before him on his feet. Then yes, down to his feet. The toe next to the
big toe notably longer then either one to the side of it. This was the same
on both sides. When Jacques approved of this, and felt that he was clean on
this side he turned around. From his position on the floor of the stool,
Christian found himself looking at Jacques arse. He started washing again,
lathering up the hair on on the back of his legs (there was a lot less the
the front), behind his knees, taking note that these were ticklish and then
his hands met his arse. It was not the best he has seen. Age seemed to have
brought it down a little, however it did have the squared shape of a breeze
block due to the exercise he had put into it. Avoiding the arse crack, for
he still believed that it was dirty, he raised himself from the floor to
was the broad back. He could see that there was a small constellation of
moles and tried to remember what start sign Jacques was. Finally, Christian
reached the back of the neck. Jacques was now clad in soap, his hair
running like the grain of an old piece of twisted wood. They swapped
places; Jacques under the torrents of water, to was the soap and loose
hairs down the plug hole and Christian into the 'dry' spot.

Jacques wished to wash the boi, for today anyway. He too shared Christian's
curiosity about what the other party felt like. He lathered soap between
his hands and his large hands rubbed across Christian's small body in
double time. He gave a few tugs to what seemed to be Christian's
permanently hard cock and then drew him in closer to share the water. The
sheets of water which transferred from Jacques to christian where heavy. In
next to no time his body was clean and cum and soap free in next to no
time.

Jacques left the shower stall first. Leaving Christian inside to enjoy the
heat and now spacious shower stall. He ran the towel over his body and to
she the majority of the water then patted himself dry with a second
towel. He handed Christian the second towel. Christian felt strange using a
towel which had just been over another mans body but he accepted it and
draped it around himself like a dust sheet over a sofa. Looking a bit like
a biblical Mary from a school play, Christian dried off, by himself for
Jacques had left to dress in the cube opposite. When Christian was dry he
too dressed. He left his hair damp, but fashioned so as to not look a
complete mess and joined Jacques in the kitchen who was standing by the
hob. On on of the gas rings stood an iron pan, full of milk and porridge
oats. Finally something which Christian can relate to; cereal being a link
between both city and and country. Sweetened with sweetener pills, winter
berries and bananas, they each had a bowl of porridge. This was good food
to have before the day which lay ahead.

It was 1pm when they left the apartment. The silence of the triple glazed
windows and the safety of the confides of the apartment were left
behind. Into the city they went. Back on the under ground, again with the
gormless people shuttling about under the city. Past the busking singers
who ignored the £200 penalty fine for doing what they do and out into the
open. What an oxymoron that is; cities and the open. Christian felt very
closed in, the buzzing people the constant stream of cars, the closeness of
the buildings, the height of the buildings. Street signs which hinder then
help, a parking meter every four feet with a sign telling you not to park
every two feet. A galaxy of chewing gum stars on the pavements and a small
ecosystem of plant life growing up between the paving slabs. And then to
his left was a Big Issue sales man, you are never more then ten meters away
from one of them in the city. To his right was Jacques, immune to the
suffering which Christian was experiencing. Today Jacques seemed to have
lost the commanding air and grace about him, which made the tide of bodies
part. Jacques has taken Christian to Soho. He knew about Soho. Or rather he
knew what people say about Soho. The prostitutes, the bars, the sex. This
is the place where the gay guys swarm and the men who look like women put
on a dress and are showered with sequins. Christian knew what to expect,
but he was not prepared for what he saw in the day time. There were gay
men, openly holding hands, sitting one one another knees -- kissing! He
felt very bare. He felt that anyone who looked at him could see right
through him; a gay guy who really did just want to be fucked.

Jacques did not allow Christian to become to engrossed in his thinking. He
moved off and Christian followed. Now aware that he most definitely did not
want to be left behind. He felt very young all of a sudden. He was back to
being a child, in a supermarket and he was lost. As quickly as the thought
came to him, the thought was gone. He could see Jacques just in front of
him. He was not able to take in much information. Like a dam had just been
erected he was oblivious to much of the river of information that was now
backing up on the other side of the damn. A little did get through
however. He saw stores where mannequins would only wear briefs, their white
defined bodies spoiled by nothing else other then a small amount of
jewellery or a silver ring hanging in a plastic nipple. He would see a few
people sitting outside cafes, drinking from plastic cups filled with ice
and more colours then were featured in the Pride flags which would be
draped in window displays or hang from poles jutting out of the brick work.

Jacques would turn a corner. Into another street filled with things he had
never dreamed of seeing. His eyes were assaulted with colour a shapes. Like
homo-hieroglyphics spelling out the gay culture in code. Then into another
street, and another. And then they were there. On a corner, at a cross
roads was the entrance to a store. The windows were filled with books and
more skimpy items of attire. Above the door was a pink neon sign, declaring
it a sex shop, over 18s only. Jacques entered. Christian was not sure he
wanted to follow.

And here concludes chapter 4. In Chapter 5 you will discover if Christian
will follow Jacques inside and see what wares she shop has to offer, or if
he will turn and leave and go back to the countryside. There are two
options, but as you know, Christian is standing at a cross roads. There are
two other possible streets Christian can go down. But what is it that they
hold?

I would like to thank you for the feed back I have so far received. I am
surprised by the number of people that really do like the direction which
this story is taking.  I do however write for my readers so if there is
something that you would like me to consider to wire into the story then
please do tell me. Send me a message, even if you just want to give me feed
back. I do try and write a reply to all readers. My only request is that
you do not send me photos or other attachments.  My email address is at the
top, but here it is again wheels-on-fire@hotmail.co.uk