This story details explicit gay sex between men, teens and boys. If you find this kind of thing distasteful, or if you are underage wherever you live, then stop reading this now, and delete this file. The story is completely fictional; the author does not condone or encourage any of the acts contained herein.



Chapter 49

By: Tim Keppler

I'm getting married. Tomorrow afternoon, as a matter of fact. We're doing this at Tim's house, well, at Tim and Jason and Kenny's. I am so excited, because this is the guy I've been waiting for all my life. He's quiet, even-tempered, and comfortable with who he is. And he's so sweet, and so, so beautiful. I never really thought I'd be attracted to a blond. What am I saying? I never thought about that at all. He's very pale, and I've never found that attractive before, but with Ian, it's just so different. I guess because I'm in love. I'm so excited.

We were thinking we'd just move into my place together. Tim wouldn't have it, not without a "ceremony". He wanted it to be official in some way, I think. Because of Ian's previous boyfriend, I think Tim wanted a mark of commitment. He wanted our friends to know we're together and to treat us like a couple. Most of all, though, I think he wanted me to think of us as a couple. That was a major theme in his lecture, and he did lecture me. He lectured me for nearly an hour. He told me that Ian is fragile, that he's been abused by foster parents and by school mates. He told me that it's my job to protect him...sometimes from himself. "His judgment about what's safe for him isn't always very good," he said. "Sometimes he's more adventurous than is good for him. You need to keep him under control." And, we talked about submission, about whether I thought that Ian would submit to my authority, and why. I told him about Ian's first spanking at my hand, and he smiled. "Good," he said. "And since then? What was that? A month ago?" I look confused. "How often do you spank him?"

"Just that once."

"And that time was because he insisted on it?"


I got this long stare over the top of his glasses. "Ian said that you were dominant in your previous relationships."


Another long stare. "Ian needs to know that. Not intellectually. He needs to know it viscerally. He needs to understand that you are taking my place, that you have a responsibility to protect him, and that if you don't protect him, that I will come and find him and take him home. He needs to know that. He knew that in L.A. He knew it so well that he got his landlady to lie to me about Alejandro's abandonment. I will protect him if you won't. You both need to know that. And the protection may not be to his liking...or yours. You should be spanking him every week. Choose a night. Find a reason. Don't beat him to death, but make sure he understands your respective roles. This is your job. If you don't want to do it, go away..."

I nodded...sadly. He's right. Ian clearly wants it. He asked me for it. And I dropped it. My job is to give Ian what he needs, and I haven't been doing that. That's the primary mark of love. Then Tim pulls a package from under his desk -- gift wrapped. Do you remember on Father's Day when you gave your dad a tie? If you got it at one of the department stores -- Nordstrom's, Macy's -- they'd put it in a box that was around five inches wide, twelve inches long, and three-quarters of an inch deep. They were basically announcing that this was a tie. And, when you're dad opened it, if he was a good dad, he always looked so surprised. "Oh, baby, thank you! What a surprise! This is beautiful!" That's the box that Tim hands me, gift wrapped, with a ribbon and bow.

"Open it," he says, and passes me a knife he uses for opening mail.

I slit the ribbon, and tear off the paper, and then slit the four little pieces of tape that are keeping the box sealed. Then I lift the cover, and inside is a very well-worn, very supple...razor strop. He looks at me across the desk as I stare at the strop. "You need to do this, Leslie. I expect it of you, but more important, Ian expects it of you. He's already told you that." Long, long pause. "Are you up to it?"

The stakes on the answer to this question were enormous. I knew that. Answer it wrong, and I'm not getting married. Answer it wrong and Ian is out of my life. But I need to mean it, because I sense that Tim will know if I don't. I look across the desk at him, and he's staring at me once again over the top of those fucking intimidating glasses. We lock eyes, and I nod. "I am," I say.

"Good," he says, "because Ian is truly head-over-heels in love. And, so you know, he is way more ga-ga over you than I ever saw him over Alejandro. But, with love comes responsibilities. I trusted Alejandro with my treasure, and he did not come through for me. I expect more from you."

I nod.

"Please, please take care of him," he says, tearing up, "or I will come find him...and...take him...home."

Again, I nod, and we shake hands, hug, and I leave the office, closing the door gently behind me.

That was intense. But...I'm still getting married tomorrow afternoon!


And when tomorrow afternoon arrives, the place is transformed. Jason and Kenny have been working on this non-stop in off-hours for a couple of weeks, according to Ian. The ceremony will be in the living room, and they've cleared out almost all the furniture so that fifty people can stand and watch it. The reception will be in the back yard, and there are banquet tables out there with white table cloths, cloth napkins, flatware, really-nice china and crystal. All this is rented, I'm told, rented and delivered this morning. There are flowers everywhere, and champagne at every table. And...hanging from the fence...is the Chinese symbol for...double happiness... the traditional symbol of marriage, and the minute I see it, I start to cry. Jason comes to my aid, wiping away the tears with his thumb. "Don't cry, Leslie. This is a day for rejoicing."

"I know," I choke. "I'm just so...happy."

"I know," he says, hugging me, giggling, "doubly happy."

Jason has agreed to be my best man, and looks elegant in his tux. I don't know how he's able to stay so cool, given everything else he's doing for this wedding. Kevin is Ian's best man, or should that be "best boy". He is just so cute all dressed up in a frilly shirt, a black suit, and...patent-leather shoes. He is just adorable. And Kai, Kevin's little brother, is the ring bearer, and he is just motoring around, chatting with everyone, with Jason, with Kenny, with the florist, with the guy delivering the cake, with everyone. He is having the time of his life.

Ian is nowhere to be found.

"You're not supposed to see him," Jason tells me with a grin. "It's bad luck."

I give him a look. "But I want to see him. I'm...umm...nervous."

"It's okay to be nervous," Kenny says, patting my shoulder, "but you can't see Ian. He's...umm...in hiding," he says, giggling.

I honestly haven't seen Ian in two days, and it's...driving me...crazy! I have no idea how he feels. I don't even know what he's going to wear. I've called him at home, but inevitably it's Jason or Kenny who answer, and they say I can't talk to him, giggling furiously. And, when I call his cell phone, I go straight to voice mail. It must be turned off. You can't know how many messages I've left. They will not let me near him. And I...umm...just...ache for him. And it's not sex I ache for. We've only had sex that once, after his first spanking. We decided to wait until after the ceremony. No, it's him I ache for. I just really need to...umm...hold him. But there's no getting around Kenny and Jason. They won't tell me where he is, and when I ask Tim, he shrugs. "Dunno. Better ask Kenny or Jason." This is a conspiracy, and it's got me seriously depressed. But it's nearly time. I guess I need to get over my longing and get on with it.

And then the guests start to arrive. There are people here I've never met before, friends of Tim's, friends if Ian's, friends of Jason and Kenny, and, of course, my friends. Some I haven't seen in a while, some of whom didn't even know I was gay. I mean, you don't tell everyone you know, do you? When it comes up, you tell them, but you don't go introducing yourself saying, "Hi. I'm Leslie. I'm gay." When it's natural, you tell them, and for some of these guys, there was no reason to tell them. Not one of them has an adverse reaction, though. I pick my friends well. Not one of them is even especially surprised that I'm marrying a guy. They all slap me on the back and hug me. No one cares particularly.

We invited 57 and 54 confirmed, and 54 are here. No drop outs. That by itself says a lot. And everyone is seriously dressed. I'd wanted to keep it casual, but Ian wanted "black tie". We'd compromised on suits and ties. This is some event. Not many women -- some friends of Tim's and a couple of Symphony members, including the Associate Concert Master, Nadia, who Jason is tight with, but that's about it. My folks couldn't come. Couldn't or wouldn't. They know I'm gay, and have long since accepted it, but I think my mom was still hoping that one day...I'd be "cured". She was excited when I told her I was getting married, but that excitement ebbed when I told her my spouse's name was Ian. "Isn't that a man's name?" she asked.

"Yes, Mom. Because he's a man." She went very quiet.

"I see," she said. And that was it. She congratulated me, and wished us well. She even sent a gift, a really beautiful painted fan. But, they couldn't make it, she said. The trip was too long. It would take too much of a toll on my father's health. Fine. Asian parents...

Jason has arranged for a quartet to play before and during the ceremony, and they've been playing as people have been arriving. Abruptly they stop, tune up, and begin to play a wedding march. It's time. I walk out into the living room, shaking hands and kissing any number of our friends, until I'm at the north end of the room with a Unitarian minister that Tim knew, that he'd used for his own ceremony, I guess. She is super nice. Ian and I met with her a week or so ago and worked out how the ceremony would flow. We wrote out vows, and she helped us craft them into a form that would be meaningful not only to us, but to the attendees. She's clearly done this before, and is really good at it. She's so...reassuring. She winks at me and smiles, and I feel my confidence grow.

Then I see him, and instantly tear up. He's dressed in a white tuxedo with a pumpkin-orange shirt and a white tie. He is just breathtaking. The orange shirt seems to reflect off his blond hair. It is just spectacular. He's smiling. He's smiling at me! He's holding hands with Tim, who's leading him out, and with Kai, our ring-bearer, who is all giggles. And, when they reach me, Tim leans over and whispers to me, "Take care of him, Leslie. Don't let me down."

I nod. Jason is, by now, at my side, and Kevin is at Ian's side, with Kai standing to Kevin's left. Ian smiles at me, and I almost melt. He is just so beautiful!

"We're here today to consecrate the love between two people, two men who have fallen in love and are now prepared to dedicate their lives to each other." This woman knows how to do this. She has me right on the verge of tears for the entire twenty-minute ceremony. She talks about the meaning of love, quotes from an Andrew Marvell poem, talks about commitment, and then asks us for our vows, which we dutifully recite. Finally, at the end of Ian's vows, the end of the ceremony, Ian looks me in the eyes and says, "I love you, Leslie Fung. I want to be with you from now and forever." And I watch a single tear streak its way down his cheek. That's when I lose it. We somehow get the rings from Kai, somehow get them onto our fingers, and somehow manage to choke out the final words of our commitment. "I think you'd probably better kiss him," the officiant finally says to Ian with a laugh, and he hurls himself at me...and we kiss. For how long do we kiss? I have no idea. For a long, long time. And it's a really-good kiss, a kiss I've longed for for days, probably for years.

And then we head out back for the reception, and it is some amazing affair. The lot for the house is really, really deep, with plenty of room for the ten tables we need to seat everyone, and we still have enough space to dance. We have music, and a DJ. And I have Ian. And, as the grooms, we have the honor of the first dance, all by ourselves. And that first dance? It's Etta James At Last. "At last / My love has come along / My lonely days over / And life is like a song." It's basically a waltz, and that's what we do. We're both tearful through most of it. The DJ has just nailed it. (I come to find later that the song was Kenny's suggestion. Perfect!) After that first dance, other guests join us, and we move through an eclectic collection of music starting with Fleetwood Mac. I'm not sure how this DJ does it. He met with the two of us -- Ian and me -- for half an hour several weeks ago and asked us a bunch of questions that had nothing to do with music. From that interview, he's come up with a play list that is just spot on! He's got Depeche Mode, The Cure, Coldplay, The Eurythmics, and Cat Stevens. Cat Stevens is one of my favorites, but how could he know that? It's not like he's from my generation. I have no clue. But, every song he plays is great!

The food, of course, is sensational. This is a menu that Jason and Kenny came up with together, and cooked together with one of their friends, the husband of Tim's best friend. We have a little Malaysian, a little Indian, a little Vietnamese, a little Cambodian, and a lot of Chinese, Jason's specialty. We even have some Mexican dishes. Very eclectic. We have more chafing dishes than I've ever seen before, all lined up on tables along the back fence. And, in front of each chafing dish is a little sign, a "spiciness indicator." Tim, Kenny and Jason like their food pretty hot. Ian, who has lived with them for years, does not. He likes his food...milder. So, in honor of his marriage, Jason has apparently decided not to kill him with cayenne by providing an indicator of just how spicy each dish is. I have to laugh.


There are a lot of kids here today. Kevin and Kai are just beside themselves, talking to everyone, so cute in their little suits. And Kevin's girlfriend is here. (I'm not sure of her name.) There's a pair of twins with another gay couple -- identical twin boys whose parents have dressed alike. There's no way for me to tell them apart, although their parents seem to be able to do it. And there are various other girls and boys ranging in age from probably six to maybe fourteen, all running around having fun, climbing on the swing set and the jungle gym. They're all really cute. Ian and I would like to have kids. We've talked about it. He's crazy about his little brothers, and so am I, actually. First, we're going to have to get out of school, though.


About an hour and a half into the reception, Kenny comes and takes my hand, motioning me to come with him. I've been talking with friends from school. I shrug, giving them an I've-no-idea-what-this-is-about look, and follow Kenny to the side of the house, where he leaves me. And as I look around, trying to figure out why I'm here, Ian pops out of the garage, comes to me, and locks his lips to mine for a long and very sensuous kiss that lasts several minutes. "I just wanted to tell you that I love you. I just wanted to tell you how happy I am to be...yours. I just wanted to tell you that this is the happiest day of my life." How sweet is that? I grab him and pull him into another kiss, but it's not a kiss that will last long, because Kevin comes around the corner abruptly.


"Here they are," he shouts over his shoulder, and hauls us away, hauls us back to the party. Tim, along with Ian's former landlady from L.A., want to make a toast, and that's followed by another toast by a good friend of mine from Stanford, and that by yet another toast by...Ian. "I just wanted to say how...umm...happy I am, how much in love I am. I just wanted to tell Leslie how crazy I am about him," he says, leaning over and kissing me.


It is a really good day, but inevitably, all good things must come to an end, and by 6pm pretty much everyone had gone home. Ian and I help Tim, Jason and Kenny clean up, and then we all kiss and hug, and then Ian and I leave, heading back to my apartment -- our first real night together. But, Ian looks so amazing in his tux, I'm not going to waste it, so I drive instead to Original Joe's, a San Jose landmark, and a place I haven't been to in years. Their Veal Scaloppini is amazing. And that's what we have. We share a plate of Veal Scaloppini, a plate of steamed vegetables, and a glass of white wine. And we just stare at each other, so, so happy. Eventually, the waiter comes back, looking for a dessert order, and we order cheese cake. As he takes our order, the waiter stands back and smiles. "You guys look really happy," he says, "and really over-dressed."


We smile. "We just got married," Ian says.


"Really?" says the waiter. "To who...umm...whom."


Ian winks at me. "To each other."


The waiter doesn't miss a beat. "Wow! That is so cool! Congratulations! I'm so happy for you. Your dessert is on the house. My treat." And when it comes, he brings us each a snifter of brandy, and hugs each of us. "Congratulations, guys! I hope you have years of happiness."

After dessert, and a cup of coffee, we head home. I'm looking forward to consummating the union, but Ian isn't quite ready for that yet. "Tim mentioned that he'd given you a pre-wedding gift," Ian says. I'm initially confused, but then realize what he's talking about.

"Umm...yeah," I reply.

"Can I see it?"

"Okay," I respond, going into the bedroom and pulling the box out of the dresser. Returning to the living room, I hand it to Ian, and he opens it. It's the razor strop, and it sort of shimmers as he takes it out of the box. It's really smooth and sort of...shiny...from years of use.

"Umm...you know how Tim expects you to use this...right?"

"Yeah," I say. I'm really nervous, really, really nervous.

"And, he said he gave it to you over a week ago. You haven't used it."

"Yeah," I reply.

"Why not?"

"Umm...I've been sort of...a little...scared."

"You shouldn't be," he says. Then he drops the strop on the couch, and comes over and hugs me. "Leslie, I love you. But...I love the Leslie you told me you were. I want someone who will take the lead. I want someone who will manage me, and we both know that's what Tim expects. I know that's who you are, and I know that's what you want, too. You need to stop worrying about what I'm feeling. What I'm feeling is longing...longing for the guy who's going to take control..."

And that's all it takes. I pick up the razor strop and motion Ian into the bedroom where he takes off his clothes, hanging his tux neatly in the closet. And then he lays himself out on the bed and we begin. I'm not gentle this time, because I know that's not what he wants. He's been longing for this, and, in truth, so have I. He's just so beautiful lying on the bed, and as his ass turns crimson, I realize just how much I love this boy. At 17 strokes, he's sobbing, and I drop the strop, pick him up, and carry him to the chair where we hug. "I love you, Ian. I love you so much. I've waited so long for you. You have no idea how much I adore you."

"I think...I do," he says, choking on tears, "because I love you at least that much. I've been so lonely for so...long."

We start to kiss, and we must kiss for twenty or thirty minutes. His lips are so soft, and he is just so beautiful. And I am so turned on. Finally, I carry him back to the bed, and we continue to kiss. By now I'm out of my clothes, but unlike Ian, who hung his up oh so carefully, mine are all over the floor. Because this is what I've been longing for. This is the moment I've been yearning for. Since that first time, I've really, really wanted to fuck him...again. And he wants it, too. You can tell. He's moaning in my mouth, and squeezing me oh...so...tight. He's waiting, but not patiently.

This time we're going to do it on his belly. Why? Because his back is just so...luscious. I don't know if I can explain this without sounding a little...kooky. There's just that expanse of skin that is his back is...just...stunning. He's just so beautiful. I like looking at him, and it doesn't seem to matter whether he's facing me, or facing in the other direction. If he's facing me, I get to look into his eyes. I get to see a really-beautiful face. His nipples and belly are very erotic. But, if he's on his belly, I get to look at that back...and his ass is truly spectacular. Either way, he makes me hard, almost instantly. And that's how I am right now -- hard. I grab a condom from the night stand, roll it out, and apply a little lotion, and start to enter him...slowly. He's moaning. He wants this as much as I do. He turns his head, and we start to kiss again, and this just makes me harder. God, I love him. Once I'm inside him, all the way inside him, he starts to squirm, and to moan, and then he does something I thought they only did in porn. He asks me to fuck him hard. "Please, Leslie, please fuck me! Please fuck me really hard!" I'm not ever sure what that means, but I start to undulate, and he is nearly frantic. He is so into this. He is moaning non-stop with occasional screams, screams that initially worry me until I finally realize that he's enjoying this. And then, after maybe ten or fifteen minutes, I get an "Oh...oh...oh..." and he starts to cum, without ever touching himself, without me ever touching his dick. He just starts to cum, and he cums in gushes. And as he does, of course, his sphincter muscles contract around my dick, and I start to cum, and it feels like I cum for hours. I have my arms around him, and I hug him so tight as I nibble the back of his neck, very close to screaming. We are absolutely connected. I couldn't let go of him if I wanted to, which I don't.

We lounge for maybe half an hour, and then he starts to nuzzle me, kissing me...everywhere -- chest, face, neck, arms. Then, he moves south and takes my dick in his mouth, moving down the shaft until my dickhead is lodged in his throat, and as he swallows it, it's like electric shocks. It's like someone has connected me to city power. I hear short screams, and realize that it's me screaming. I've never felt anything like this before. I don't know if it's that my dick is just really sensitive from that last time we fucked, or if he's really this good. I suspect it's the latter. And then, while he continues to suck me, he reaches up and pinches both of my nipples. That's it! "Oh, fuck!" I scream, and then erupt. When I stop cumming, when I'm spent and panting, Ian's face appears above mine. He has a beatific grin, and a drop of cum dripping from the corner of his mouth. "Like that?" he asks.

I cuff him. "Yeaahhhh!" This boy has some serious technique.

After a grand total of three orgasms, we realize we're hungry, really hungry. It's 3 o'clock in the morning. We dress casually -- jeans and t-shirts -- and head out to a 24-hour diner in downtown San Jose. It's us, one waitress, one cook, and one other guest. "What can I get you?" the waitress asks, and then, looking at us for the first time, she starts to giggle. I give her a confused look. "Sorry," she says. "It's just that you guys look so...happy. What have you been up to tonight?" she asks, grinning.

"That," Ian says with a snort.

She nods, still giggling.

"We just got married," I explain, and her eyes light up.

"Really? That's wonderful! So, you're here to...umm...recharge?"

"That's it," I reply, and Ian winks. And then we order, and it may be the best meal I've ever eaten -- a burger, some fried eggs, a piece of blueberry pie, and a coke. I don't think anything has ever tasted better...

Published first at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Nemo-stories/