Date: Tue, 8 Feb 2005 19:51:58 -0800 (PST) From: rocky simpson Subject: The Day After Tomorrow - Part 3 DISCLAIMER: The following story is fiction and does not necessarily represent the sexuality of actors or characters involved. The author has no knowledge of the actors' sexuality and this is purely a work of fiction. The Day After Tomorrow -- Volume 3 By: Rocky ---------------------------------- Jake licked his lips and focused his eyes. More tantalizing than Benjamin McKenzie and Adam Brody combined, this proposition struck Jake in all the right places. Seated before him, in his masculine glory, was Chris Meloni, wiping his hairy chest with a clean white towel. "You look tired, who's your latest conquest?" Jake asked. "I don't remember his name. Some kid. I think he's on that show Desperate Housewives or some shit. I'm not sure. He sucked my dick like a pro, though." Chris laughed. "That's cool. Nice seeing you." Jake said as he began to leave. "Hey, hold up kid, you sure you don't want to maybe stick around, you know, maybe get some action in that cute butt of yours?" Chris was almost begging. "No thanks, I'm just getting out of this somewhat long relationship and I'm just not really sure I'm ready to let another man get some "action in my cute butt" as you so eloquently put it." Jake responded. "Come on, at least let me buy you a drink. We'll talk, we'll laugh, and if in the end you end up riding my dick then so be it" Chris said with a wink. "Fine, it wouldn't hurt me." Jake grinned. "Oh we'll see about that." Chris mumbled as he exited the room. As soon as Chris left, Jake began to make himself more at home. He sat down on the black leather couch, and quickly adjusted his crotch. He rubbed the sides of his temples. Man, did he have a headache. He reached for some Advil in his pocket, and made his way over to the wastebasket to dispose of the wrapper. He glanced in, and noticed a used condom; apparently Chris had had a busier night than previously thought. "Charming..." Jake whispered softly. "What was that beautiful?" Chris asked, returning with two glasses of vodka in hand. "I said I thought the atmosphere of this club was alarming. You know, right there, in your face." Jake sighed, relieved due to his quick recovery. "Well I'm glad you like it then. Drink up." Chris almost demanded. "You know, I'm really not that thir-" Jake was interrupted. "Cheers." Chris raised his glass. Jake reluctantly raised his glass also. His eyes met Chris'. There was something about Chris' eyes; almost something that you couldn't trust. Eyes that you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley; however clichéd that may sound. Maybe Jake was thinking too much into it. This is what being dumped can do. It leaves you broken, unwilling and afraid of letting others in. He looked at his glass, and then completely downed it in one shot. "Man this is some good vodka. Can't get this stuff at home, I'll tell you that much." Chris chuckled. "Yeah...you can say that again, so who did you fuck tonight?" Jake asked. "Oh that? That's not mine. Nope, before I got here Justin Timberlake and some big guy were in here. You know Justin, he loves it up the ass." Chris smiled. "Yeah, I've had a foursome with him once. It was pretty cool." Jake mentioned. "That's cool. How you feeling, man? You're looking kind of pale." Chris questioned. With that, Jake knew what Chris had done. He started to feel faint, his eyes fluttering. His headache increased, as he collapsed on the floor. He looked up at the older man with a sense of disgust, of sickness. His eyes receded into the back of his head. "How could you?" Jake asked, as his head pounded against the soft plush carpet. "See Jakey boy, the real question should've been `Who will I be fucking tonight?' See, if I want to fuck you, I will fuck you. You don't turn me down. See what people like you, little cocky sluts, get? You get my dick up your ass anyway." Chris threatened. Jake couldn't say anything. He'd heard of date rape before, but never experienced it first hand. He lay motionless, unable to ward off his predator. He tried to cry but he couldn't. He tried to scream but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything. He had to just sit there, embarrassed and ashamed, as Christopher Meloni tried to rip off his jeans and CK briefs and expose his ass. He succeeded. "Oh God...please don't." Jake thought to himself. "Yeah...look at this ass. Dennis really wasn't exaggerating about you." Chris laughed. Something about that last statement struck a cord within Jake. Although he could not speak, inside he was screaming. Why would Dennis set him up like this? How could such a cold-hearted man lie behind such crystal blue eyes? What else could he possibly take from Jake? Chris began to thrust inside his victim. No condom, no lube, no love, nothing. With every entrance, Jake could feel his insides squirming. His asshole was gaping, somehow trying to accommodate Chris' giant cock. He waited for something, anything. It would be 15 long minutes before anything came. And it literally came. Huge shots of cum exploded from Chris' dick, eagerly making their way into Jake's rectum. Jake's eyes welled with tears once again, as he felt the all so familiar warmth in his ass. Chris ceased his thrusting and removed himself from Jake. He closed Jake's legs, and stood up and began to wipe the sweat from his chiseled frame. "Next time keep those damn legs closed." Chris laughed menacingly. Jake tried to move his jaw, and with great effort, he managed to open his mouth. "Fuck you..." Jake stammered. Chris flashed his pearly whites, before putting on his jeans and fastening his belt. He took out his wallet from his back pocket, and took out a 20-dollar bill. "Here, keep the change." Chris laughed. And with that, Chris dropped the bill over Jake's exposed body, and spit on his young prey. Jake turned his head, unable to look at his attacker. He tried to pull his briefs back over his ass, and an almost an hour later, was able to collect himself and walk out of the dimly lit backroom at Ice. He had lost it all. Dennis had betrayed him; he had become victimized once again. He had lost all hope not only in love, but also in life. He was bruised emotionally and physically as he made his way out of the club. And then he reached into his pocket, and hope was renewed. THE END