Indulgence ©

By Jack Llawayllynn


Chapter 3: Searching

Mat sat aching and dejected on the hard bed in the emergency room waiting for his x-rays to be read. He had told the physician that he had walked out in front of a car, that the driver had not stopped. No, he had told the lady doctor, he did not want to file a report with the police. She had looked at him strangely but had not pressed him about it. Now, as the door opened and the doctor came in he knew she was about to ask him some difficult questions because she sent the nurse out.

"Your left arm is most definitely broken, as is your right hand. Two of your ribs are cracked. You have a very mild concussion, not to mention the black eye and the splits in your scalp that I stitched up...and you have minor scalding all over your body." She looked up from the file in her hand then pulled a stool over and sat down, eyeing him. Matt gingerly put a hand to his stitched forehead, and then touched the stitches at the back of his head. When Sin had knocked him into the tub he had cracked open his scalp on the tub rim, then again when Sin had slammed him into the wall it had split the flesh over his left eye. In the darkness and amid the confusion, Matt had not known he was bleeding. It wasn't until after he had nearly baked himself by taking a scalding shower, and then stumbled out to flick on the light that Sin had left off that he had realized his head was cut and bleeding. Flooded in the harsh glaring light Matt had been stunned to find that the wetness running from his hair was not water alone. By the time he had made it to the hospital he was near to fainting with dizziness. The hot water that he had stood under for so long had prevented scabbing and he had lost a lot of blood.

"The bruises over your ribs are not consistent with a hit and run," the doctor said quietly. "Do you want to tell me what really happened?"

"I got in a fight," Matt admitted.

"Obviously." The word dripped with cynicism. She looked at him sternly a moment, her eyes taking in his injuries, then she met his gaze head on and her eyes softened. She could see pain and shame and fear in the depths of his soul. "Want to tell me about it?"

"No!" Matt said emphatically.

"Mr. Darvins, I am a doctor. I am here to help you. I am here to see to it that you recover fully from your injuries. I am also human, though some people think that all doctors have lost their humanity. I care about my patients. If you want to talk about it anything you say will be confidential, just between you and me."

"No!" Matt asserted again. "I want you to put a cast on my arm and let me go home."

"I'm concerned, Mr. Darvins, about the burns on your shoulders."

"I told you, I turned the shower on too hot."

"Yes." The doctor stood and walked behind him. Matt felt his bare flesh pimple as her cold fingers touched the back of his neck. She pressed a little and he flinched. "The shower explains why you are scalded, but not these bite marks."

Matt froze. Bite marks? Had Sin bitten him? Yes, yes he had. I'll kill him, Matt thought vengefully, I'll find him and kill him.

The doctor saw Matt stiffen. She walked back around to face him and was not surprised to see raw rage on his face even as it flushed in with embarrassment. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me about it?"

"Leave me alone!" Matt yelled, tears threatening to surface.

The doctor shrugged. "I'll call in a nurse to help me plaster your arm then you can go home."

Matt sat silently and raged within while they put a cast on his arm, a hard brace on his hand and tightly wrapped his chest in adhesive bandages. In his mind he plotted a hundred murder scenes, Sin playing the co-star in every one of them. Yes, when he saw Sin again the man would die.

* * * *

Sin did not attempt to contact Matt. Matt knew it would be futile to go to the construction site. As soon as Joe saw him he'd have him thrown off the property and Matt wouldn't get within killing distance of Sin. Matt stuck to his hit and run story at work and with Trish. He lied to Miss Sylvia too though he knew that she did not believe him. It took him more than a month to thoroughly heal but the scar on his forehead remained, a livid white line to remind him of Sin and what he had done to him every time Matt looked into the mirror. The weeks passed and the horror faded, the shame was shelved away, but the hate and anger remained fresh. It wasn't that Sin had beat Matt up that made him so mad, it was that Sin had used him against his will and that he had responded on a deep, primal level to the abuse. Sometimes Matt awoke in the night after reliving the whole thing in a dream, his body covered in sweat, his dick as hard as marble. It made him sick, physically sick. Sometimes he would have to rush to the bathroom and wretch, even as he throbbed and swelled.

Matt tried to lose himself in Trish, hardly ever letting her leave his side. He clung to her like a log in a flood, using her body night after night without being able to banish his demons, no matter how hard he pressed into her. She began to pull away, frightened by his unusually violent love making, feeling pressured by his insistence. Matt saw it happening, felt himself losing her but try as he might he could not reclaim his innocence nor his gentleness.

The change in him was more than just sexual. He attacked his work with an aggression that pleased Silverman but worried Jill. To her Matt looked haggard, his usually sunny disposition replaced by a dark and heavy brooding. He lost weight and began chain smoking. She wondered if he had fallen into doing drugs but couldn't bring herself to broach the subject with Mr. Silverman or Matt himself. He had become unpredictable, easily flying off the handle and he avoided the UPS man like the plague. Once he had almost knocked her over as he rushed away from the man.

Matt himself felt he was on the verge of insanity. When he wasn't thinking of killing Sin he was thinking of fucking him. Sometimes the images were so vivid in his mind that he would find himself clutching his head and shaking it as he could free himself from the mental pictures. He started drinking heavily every night so that he could fall asleep. He hung black curtains over his windows to block out the light, the outside world. He stopped going to Big Joe's with his friends. He even missed two visits with Miss Sylvia. His world was falling apart.

"Darvins!" Mr. Silverman shouted and Matt jumped nearly out of his skin. It had been five weeks since the incident with Sin and he still felt edgy, his nerves raw. "Darvins! I won the Sikes case!" Silverman bellowed. Matt stood as the man approached. Mr. Silverman grabbed his hand and pumped it up and down vigorously. "I'd all but given up on winning that one. Hell, the judge all but told me at the start that I was fighting a losing battle but after all that research you gave me I began to hope a little. You should have seen the prosecutor's face when I pulled out that file you put together for me. He just kept turning a shade greener as I read off one precedent after another. Good work my boy!"

"Thank you sir," Matt said, glad to retrieve his hand from the other's grasp.

"Tonight we celebrate! I'm taking you and Jill out to the finest restaurant in the city!" Silverman announced.

"I don't think I can make it sir," Matt said, searching his mind for a good lie to tell.

"Nonsense! I insist! Besides, it's Friday night, what's so important that you can't put it off for another time?"

"My girlfriend..."

"Bring her, my boy! I don't mind! Go on, give her a call. We'll all meet back here in two hours." Silverman strode away before Matt could protest further. Obediently he went and phoned Trish.

Silverman took them to the Red Table, a posh, overly priced restaurant that catered mostly to the older wealthy. Trish and Jill both looked elegant, Trish in a tight cream colored miniskirt, Jill in a long, flowing skirt and shirt of black. Jill hung on Mr. Silverman's arm like an ornament, flirting with her boss outrageously, something Matt had never seen her do before. The waiter seated them at an open table with no privacy, not that they needed any. Matt ordered whiskey, Silverman bourbon and the ladies took white wine. The meal was excellent but Matt spent the whole evening wishing he were at home with a fresh bottle of Jack Daniels.

They were just standing and gathering their coats to leave when Matt spotted him. Sin. He sat at a corner table with a buxom blonde woman, leaning forward to hear her better, his eyes trained solely on her face. All the rage Matt had been holding in surfaced in a rush. A red film covered his eyes and his vision narrowed until all he saw was Sin's face. All reason left him. He crossed the room with long strides, reached for a fistful of Sin's shirt, hauled him up and punched him in the nose with all his might. Sin had no time to be surprised before the blood began to flow. The blonde at the table screamed, so did several other ladies in the restaurant.

"That's for breaking my arm, you bastard," Matt growled. He swung again, taking Sin in the gut. As Sin doubled over Matt brought his knee up and caught him in the chin. Sin toppled like a felled tree. Matt began kicking him, "That's for my broken ribs you shit!" Matt kicked Sin at least three more times before Silverman grabbed him and pulled him off.

"Darvins! What the hell are you doing?" Silverman demanded. Matt struggled in his grasp but found the old codger was strong as an ox.

"I'll kill him!" Matt snarled.

"Calm down Darvins," Silverman said, his voice strangely soothing in Matt's ears, his tone level and stern. Matt stilled and took a deep breath.

Sin had made it up to his knees. He glared up at Matt, blood running from his nose and dripping off his chin. His eyes were blackening. "That all you got kid?" he sneered.

Matt roared and tore out of Silverman's grasp. Fists flying he attempted to pulverize Sin single handedly. Silverman had a much harder time pulling him off the second time. Still snarling and foaming at the mouth Matt let out a long dialog of curses aimed at Sin as Silverman managed to drag him toward the door. Sin took longer getting off the floor the second time but the blonde was fussing over him, kissing his head, petting him. Matt tried once more to tear out of Silverman's grip but the older man was ready for that and gave Matt a final hard shove out the door then blocked the doorway to prevent him from re-entering. The two women huddled together on the sidewalk, both terrified at this creature that they had never seen before, this mad man that was so unlike the Matt they both had known for years.

When Matt looked like he might try to make a break passed Silverman the older man reached out and smacked him with an open-handed glancing blow on the side of his head. "Stay put boy!" Silverman yelled into Matt's face. Matt glared into his employer's eyes then suddenly realized who it was he was looking at. All the fight went out of him as Silverman stared him down. "You want to explain this to me Darvins?" Silverman asked in a thunderous tone.

"No sir, I don't." Matt turned away, shoulders slumped.

"Don't walk away from me boy!"

Matt squared his shoulders, thinking that if Silverman laid a hand on him again to restrain him that he'd beat the shit out of him too but Silverman didn't touch him. Matt turned around slowly to face him. There was a wail of sirens down the street. Silverman gave him another disgusted glare then stepped to the street and flagged down a passing taxi. "Get in," Silverman growled and they all did as he told them, as quickly as they could.

"Now look here Darvins, that was a stupid thing you did back there. That was assault and with that many witnesses to say that you attacked that man without provocation there is very little chance that you'll avoid jail time if he presses charges. If I'm to try to get you out of this mess the least you could do is tell me what the man did to enrage you so."

Matt glanced over at his boss sharply. He was right, if Sin pressed charges Matt would go to jail. No doubt about it. As for it being unprovoked, well he sure as hell wasn't going to explain to anyone how Sin had provoked him.

Trish, who had been unusually quiet through the whole thing suddenly burst into tears. "Matt, what is going on?" she demanded. "Wasn't that your friend Mike? Why did you beat him up? You haven't been seeing that girl he was with on the side have you?" Trish wailed.

"No Trish," Matt said, trying very hard to keep the irritation out of his voice. "I have never seen that girl before in my life. I have no idea who she is."

"Why then?"

Matt gave her a steely glare. "Trust me, the man needs more than just a beating."

"You aren't in to drugs, are you Matt?" Jill asked quietly.

Matt shook his head, sighing. "No." He looked over at Silverman. "I'll be glad to take a drug test if you like."

Silverman was silent a moment. "No. If you say you aren't taking drugs then I believe you. You've been with me a long time son, and you've never given me a reason to distrust you. Lately though you have been acting strangely. You'll need to tell me what's going on if I'm to help you."

"I'm beyond help," Matt muttered darkly.

"What? Beyond help? Legally? Darvins, what exactly have you done?" Silverman demanded.

"Other than beat that bastard up, nothing," Matt said grimly. "Not yet anyway. If he crosses my path again though there will be a murder trial."

"Matthew!" Trish gasped and began to sob again. Matt turned to stare out the window and saw that they were near Miss Sylvia's neighborhood.

"Let me out here!" Matt barked at the driver. The cabby pulled off to the side and Matt climbed out, not looking back as he walked away, grateful when the slam of the car door cut off the sounds of Trish's sobbing.

Matt made his way to Miss Sylvia's in a daze of rage. A mugger lurking in an alley caught one glimpse of Matt's face as he passed under a street lamp and slunk back into the deeper shadows, feeling that some unseen guardian had just prevented him from making the mistake of his life by targeting the young man. The mugger waited until Matt passed, darted from the alley and headed for the nearest church to give thanks for divine intervention.

Miss Sylvia opened the door before Matt could even knock. "Well child," she said as he stood there in surprise, fist upraised to pound on the door, "it's about time you came. Get in here."

Matt stumbled inside and collapsed down on one of her couches. Miss Sylvia went into the kitchen and returned with a tea tray. She set the tray down, poured tea into two cups then added something to Matt's from a small flask. Matt stared at her in surprise.

"Thought you might need something with just a little kick," Miss Sylvia explained as she leaned back to sip her tea.

"Why would you think that?" Matt asked as he lifted his own cup, sipped, and tasted something sweet and thick. "That's not a whiskey in there...what is it?"

"No, not whiskey dear, it's laudanum, along with a few other things."

"What!" Matt would have spit it out but he had already swallowed. He set his cup down with a shaky rattle.

"Drink it," Miss Sylvia said sternly.

"You know what? Fuck you!" Matt snarled. "I'm sick of everyone telling me what to do, pushing me around!"

Miss Sylvia took another sip of her own tea, her rheumy eyes not even blinking at his cursing of her. She sat there in silence for a few minutes, letting Matt seethe.

"Drink it child," she said again, softly but still commanding.

Matt stared at the cup a moment then picked it up and downed the tea, feeling the heat of it scald his tongue and throat as it went down. "They don't make laudanum anymore," he said blandly.

"No, it's illegal, I know. But us old folks, we know things, we have contacts that you youngsters just can't begin to imagine. Now, stretch out on the couch. That stuff will knock your socks off any minute now."

Sylvia was right. He felt dizzy as he lay back, resting his head on the couch arm. His vision became fuzzy, his limbs light, floating. He sighed and felt himself sink into the cushions as he drew his breath back in, raise above them as he exhaled once more. Colors began to run, drip, melt. He closed his eyes.

How long he floated in a mist Matt was not sure. Sometimes he drifted half awake, sometimes he was lost in thick swells of sleep that would overtake him suddenly and wash him under. Regaining his feeling of self was a slow and heavy process, a gradual pulling of the earth, Mother Earth calling him home. Finally he was able to force his lids open. The room was dim but not dark. He slid his legs around, his feet found the floor as he sat up. Miss Sylvia sat in her chair across from him, watching over him.

"You have found your answers," she said to him after he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"What?" he asked blearily.

"Answers child, that is what you have been seeking. Answers to the questions that have been swirling in your soul. You do not realize it yet but the answers are there. Tonight you will face them. For now its morning and your red-haired girlfriend is at your apartment, fretting over you. Go and let her know you're alive." Miss Sylvia heaved herself up out of the chair stiffly, slowly, as if the effort cost her dearly. Slowly she shuffled off to her bedroom and shut the door. Matt sat there confused for a long time before he got up and let himself out of the house.

Matt found Trish in his bed when he entered the apartment. Very gently he shook her awake.

"Thank God!" she gasped, grabbing him in a hug. "I was so worried! Where have you been?"

"Miss Sylvia's," Matt answered, pushing her gently away.

Trish screwed up her face in disgust. "I should have known it! Well, you're home now. I worried about you all night long. Jill called twice to check on you. She said that Mr. Silverman went back to the Red Table and asked them if they knew if that Mike guy was going to press charges. They said that the guy refused to identify you, that he claimed he didn't know who the hell you were or why you beat him up. Why did you beat him Matt?"

"It was a personal debt I owed him," Matt said, not even realizing he had spoken aloud.

"Debt? When you were hitting him you said something about him breaking your arm. Did he beat you up last month?" Trish was sitting up in the bed, her hair a huge red halo around her face, frizzy and tangled from a rough night of worry. Matt reached out and tried to smooth some of it down.

"Yes, we fought," Matt admitted.

"And that shit about the mugging, the two of you had done that to each other hadn't you?" Trish pressed.


"But you said he was your friend! You didn't seem too angry at one another when I came in."

"I know Trish. It's not something I can explain to you. I can honestly say that there is no friendship left between Mike and myself now." Matt glanced around at his room, at the dark curtains hanging over the window. He strode over hand threw them open. He stood there staring down at the street below for a long time.

"Matt?" Trish implored, her voice worried.

"Go home Trish. You don't need to be around me while I'm dealing with this. I'm too angry, too violent. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Let me stay. We can get through this together, whatever it is."

"No," Matt said firmly, loudly. "No one can help me. I'm in way too deep."

"This Mike guy isn't in the mob is he Matt?"

Matt threw back his head and laughed loud, bitter, cynical laughter. "Not that I know of, dear. Not that I know of, but there would be nothing I could learn about Mike that would surprise me."

"What kind of trouble are you in?" Trish demanded.

Matt turned from the window to face her. "Go home." He strode from the room into the bathroom and turned on the shower, locking the door behind him as he always did now after he'd been attacked in that small space. He hoped that when he got out of the shower that she'd be gone. To his relief he found that she was.

Matt spent most of the day walking along the city streets, his mind wandering over the memories of his childhood, problems at work, an argument he'd had with his father ten years ago, anything other than Sin. By the time he returned home he was sweaty and tired, in of another shower. After he had bathed again he sat in front of the television but it only annoyed him so he went to bed. Sylvia had said he now knew answers but he didn't. He lay awake staring at the ceiling.

It was near midnight when Matt realized that Sin had not fought him back in the restaurant. He hadn't even tried. He had taunted him, in essence egging him on to beat on him some more. Why? A guilty conscience? Matt snorted aloud and flipped over, punching his pillow and wadding it up under his head. Sin had no conscience. The man thought only of what he wanted and went after it, no matter what it cost. Still, the fact remained, Sin had not fought back, had not pressed charges. Maybe he realized that he deserved every punch, every kick. Fair play, turn about and all that bullshit.

Matt flipped over onto his back. He threw his arm over his eyes and tried to make himself sleep. Maybe, he thought, if he could try to relive the calm that Miss Sylvia's tea had invoked in him, he could drift off. He slowed his breathing, tried to imagine the lightness he had felt but his limbs just felt heavy. He tried to recall the languidness, the silkiness of the black that had engulfed him. Slowly his body began to relax. He continued to breathe deeply, slowly. Finally his mind began to drift, to see once again the colors, the oozing droplets, the soft flow. Drifting somewhere between wakefulness and dreams and he saw once again the visions of the night before, the visions brought on by Miss Sylvia's drugged tea. He saw himself facing Sin but there was no anger, no fear, no pain, only passion. There was a heat between them, a sizzle of electrical desire. He'd reached for Sin in those dreams, called his name. Matt tossed fitfully, remembering the dream in a dream. The vision faded, replaced by an image of Trish, Trish with her heart breaking in her eyes, walking away from him, walking out of his life. Matt gasped and sat bolt upright in bed.

"Fuck!" he spat the word out harshly. If that was the kind of answers that Miss Sylvia had meant then she was terribly mistaken. There was no way in hell he'd give up Trish for Sin. Sin was nothing more than a mistake, a chance mistake. So what if he still thought of him constantly? It was only because he hated him. Wasn't it? Matt flopped back into the pillows. Hated him and desired him. That was the truth of it. Sin had opened up some dark part of himself that refused to be locked away again. But, Matt realized, it was a singular kind of thing. He didn't walk down the street, see some guy and think about fucking him. No, it was only Sin himself that caused the conflict in his soul.

Matt fell asleep in the wee hours. His anger had melted away sometime during his soul searching and he wasn't sure why. Now all he felt was lonely and lost and he wished like hell that he hadn't sent Trish home.

* * * *

Without the anger to sustain him Matt finally fell apart. He couldn't eat or sleep, he couldn't concentrate on his work. He drank more and more each night and passed out two or three hours before he was supposed to be at work. Trish came by less and less often. She couldn't stand to see him drunk and unshaven, sprawled on the couch chain smoking cigarettes. Even his sex life suffered. He could no longer get it up. He managed to drag himself to Miss Sylvia's weekly but she did not bring up his problems nor try to answer his questions. It was everything Matt could do just to get up in mornings.

After three weeks of watching Matt drag about at the office Mr. Silverman demanded that he take two weeks off if he didn't want to be fired altogether. Matt suffered terribly that first week with nothing to do and no one to talk to. He drank himself literally sick three days in a row. By the time Friday rolled around he decided he had to take action. It was time to look for Sin.

Matt bathed, shaved and dressed neatly for the first time in a long while. He played a game of solitaire until the sun went down and then paced about until nine o'clock. He called a cab and rode to Clancey's Bar, not really believing he'd find Sin there but still deeply disappointed that he didn't. He ordered a drink and pretended interest in a girl that had begun flirting with him as soon as he had walked in. After a couple of hours and too many drinks he went home drunk and depressed. He fumbled with his keys at the door, inserted it and turned the lock. It didn't click. Apparently he had not locked it when he had left. He frowned, angry at himself, and went in. He didn't bother to turn on any lights; instead he threw his jacket in the floor and stumbled to the bathroom. He came out rubbing his eyes and grumbling to himself. He made his way to the living room intent on catching a late night B-movie on the tube. As he passed into the room a dark shadow detached itself from a corner and sprang at him. Matt's reflexes were too slow. The shadow was on him and he was falling, sprawling across the floor.

"It's unwise to be so careless as to leave your door unlocked. You could get yourself killed," Sin's voice said against his ear. "You should always lock your door in a city like this, it's full of crazies and perverts like me."

"Son of a bitch!" Matt grunted, trying to wriggle out from under Sin's weight. "I thought I was free of you."

"Oh? Is that what you really want, to be free of me?"

"Yes! Now get off and get out!" Matt yelled.

"What if I say no? Will you keep yelling until the neighbors come?" Sin's white teeth flashed in the darkness as he grinned down at Matt.

Matt scowled but didn't answer. His heart was pounding, every painful beat throbbing in his erection. Sin's scent wrapped around him, leather soap and sea salt. Matt knew that Sin could feel his arousal pressed between them as Sin lay across Matt's length on the floor. "Let me up Sin," Matt whispered.

"No. I have no intention of doing that. I came here expecting to find you here waiting for me but I'm flattered to find that you'd gone so far as to go out looking for me," Sin said, then chuckled, the motion sending vibrations through Matt's body. Matt squirmed a little but stopped still when he realized that the movement brought his erection in contact with Sin's through their jeans.

"Who says I was looking for you?" Matt asked.

"Who else would you be looking for at Clancey's?"

"How long have you been following me about?" Matt demanded then gasped when Sin shifted, placed a hand on Matt's crotch and began to massage it roughly.

"So you were at Clancey's looking for me," Sin said surprised.

"You bastard!" Matt ground out between clenched teeth.

"I probably am," Sin agreed and bent his head to kiss Matt fiercely. Struggling only got Matt a bitten lip. Sin finally lifted his head, let Matt catch his breath. "Come into my web said the spider to the fly," he quoted as Matt lay panting under him. Suddenly Sin's hand stilled on Matt's crotch. "But who's who I wonder," he added darkly.

Matt took the chance and bucked Sin off, scrambling out from under him. "Leave," Matt said as he shied away from Sin.

"Alright, if that's what you really want," Sin said quietly.

Matt watched as Sin headed for the door, put his hand on the knob.


Sin turned around, a darker silhouette in darkness.

"Why did you come here? What do you want from me?" Matt asked.

"Well, tonight I'd settle for sucking your dick. You can do me tomorrow night."

"Shit! I was serious Sin."

"So was I," Sin said as he turned back and crossed the room to stand before Matt. "Let me stay." Sin's voice had dropped, the note in it pleading, almost desperate.

"Damn it Sin, we nearly kill each other whenever we're in a room together."

"It won't be like that, I promise." Sin reached a hand out and cupped the back of Matt's neck, drawing him forward, drawing him closer to touch his lips to Matt's mouth, tenderly, poignantly. Matt jerked away. Sin reached out and laid a hand on Matt's crotch. The bulge was still there, throbbing and tight. Matt flinched but did not move away. Sin stepped in closer once more, pressed his body against Matt's. "Sit on the couch," Sin whispered into his ear.

Matt did as he was told, all too aware of Sin following on his heels. Matt sat and looked at the shadow of Sin standing over him. For an instant he thought of jumping up and demanding that Sin leave but then Sin was lowering himself, going down on his knees, brushing Matt's thighs apart. Slowly Sin lowered his head and bit down gently on Matt's throbbing cock, his breath hot and moist as he blew it through the fabric of Matt's jeans. Matt groaned and let his head fall back against the sofa cushions. Sin raised his head, his hand once more moving to rub Matt through the fabric.

"I know you've been thinking of me," Sin said, his voice still low, almost hopeful.

"Yes," Matt admitted, not lifting his head from the cushions. "Every night and every day." Matt felt Sin's long fingers undo the button at his waist and heard the quiet zzzzzitt of the zipper. "I kept thinking that I liked it the first night because I was drunk, nothing more, and the second because of the adrenaline, the fear."

Sin pushed the fabric down, underwear and all, and Matt lifted his hips so that the cloth slid free and puddled around his ankles. Sin's hand rubbed the length of Matt's cock, slowly, lightly, his mouth close enough that Matt could feel the warmth of Sin's breath on his bare flesh.

"So, you'll let me do it again now, just to see," Sin whispered but it wasn't a question and before Matt could respond Sin dipped his head and licked the tip of the swollen cock in his hand. Matt groaned and thrust upward just a little, begging. Sin was not inclined to torture Matt tonight and took the throbbing penis full into mouth, losing himself in its salty taste and the musky scent of the hair around it.

Matt's fingers dug into the cushiony softness of the sofa, fighting down the urge to thrust hard and bring himself to a quick climax. Sin's lips were slick with saliva and moved over his flesh like burning silk. Suddenly Sin pushed his head down further, taking in the full length of Matt's cock, swallowing around it. Matt flinched and shuttered, awash in the new and thrilling sensation. No woman had ever done it like that before. Matt pushed aside the thought of women lest he dwell on the fact that it was a man between his thighs now. Sin swallowed him again, then again, and then released him, coming up for air. Matt felt his wet tongue run along one of his balls, then the other, and a sharp tang of a small nip on the inside of this thigh. He wound his fingers in Sin's long hair, urging him to take his full length again and Sin obliged. It seemed to go on forever, this experienced pleasuring, and Matt thought perhaps he would let it go on forever but his body did not agree. He could feel the urgency of release rising and could not stop himself from thrusting upward, finding a rhythm with Sin's suckling. The heat rose in his face, then flushed through his body and he felt himself right on the verge of cumming. He gave a small jerk to Sin's hair, same as did with Trish, to signal that he should stop, least Matt cum in his mouth. Sin did not stop though; he had no intentions of doing so. This realization came over Matt at the last second and he felt a great rushing thrill sweep through him. No woman had ever let him cum in her mouth. Sin took him deep, then deeper into his throat, swallowing even before the jism began to squirt. Matt convulsed in ecstasy, rolled under the waves of it and yet still, somewhere in his mind, he wondered how Sin could continue without choking to death. Finally the madness of orgasm began to recede and Matt relaxed, limp as though thoroughly drained of all life's necessary liquids. He felt Sin rise but he didn't open his eyes. Then he felt Sin's slick lips on his and before he could turn his head away Sin slipped his tongue into Matt's mouth. Just a dart of the tongue and then the lips were gone and Matt heard footsteps, then the opening and closing of the door. Matt lay there, letting his breathing slow, with the faint taste of himself on his tongue.