Date: Sat, 9 Sep 2006 08:25:14 +0800 From: Lady Poetess Subject: Strange Tails: Noam STRANGE TAILS Noam Written by Lady Poetess egiggles at moose-mail.com http://www.asstr.org/~bbp Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive. ONE "Death by snake bites? There's a poisonous snake on the loose?" Noam Jenkins looked at the body of the muscular man lying in eternal repose on the table. "Snakes would be my guess," the coroner, a man called Ed. "Plural," he clarified unnecessarily. He opened the dead man's mouth and pressed down the tongue with a pair of forceps. He picked up a narrow metallic tube of flashlight with his other hand and shone down the dead man's mouth. "You can't really see it from here but there are multiple snake bits all the way down the man's esophagus down to a depth... here." Ed indicated a point just above the level of his heart. "And it's bizarre because Jane -- my colleague -- extracted several venoms rather than just one type. There are venoms from asp, black mamba, gaboon viper, inland Taipan, saw scaled viper, the Australian black and brown sea snakes, and at least ten other venoms from other lethal snakes." Noam tilted his head a little to his right, a habit he had when he was thinking. "Someone must have taken the trouble to import all those snakes from their native countries." That meant he had to look up the names of collectors of exotic wildlife, which wasn't going to be easy as most of these collectors would not have obtained their collections by legal means, as well as checking up on imports, legal or illegal, of such snakes into this country. He was starting to have a headache just contemplating the work that awaited him. He frowned at Ed. "I don't understand, though, how he was bitten only down his esophagus. There are no bites anywhere else?" Ed blushed. "Not on anywhere else except..." He grimaced as he lifted the sheets off the corpse's lower body. "There are also snake bites all the way up his anal passage up to the point where the rectum begins." He handed the scalpel to Noam. "You can see for yourself." "No thanks," said Noam with a grimace, his buttocks clenching involuntarily. It was probably a good thing that he didn't have a fuck buddy at the moment because it would probably be a while before he had the mood for some good old-fashioned man-to-man fucking again after today. "Snakes moved up his ass and down his throat?" He could imagine the horrifying scene but he couldn't imagine how such a scene could be possible. "Hundreds of the most poisonous snakes," Ed said weakly. "And these snakes didn't bite anywhere else other than those two... passages. Odd, isn't it?" "Snakes don't do that kind of body invasion shit," said Noam, genuinely puzzled now as he opened the corpse's mouth. He couldn't see much in the shadowed depths of the back of the throat. He would have to take Ed's words about the snakebites. "And the mouth as well as the ass... surely they cannot accommodate the girth of..." Ed shook his head. "I looked up the average size of each adult venomous snake that could have produced the amount of toxins Jane collected and I can't imagine it either. Perhaps there are many, many half-grown snakes that attacked him, the collective amount of the toxins enough to kill him, but even so, Jane's calculations suggested strongly that this man was attacked by at least three hundred fully-grown venomous snakes. The muscles of his jaw and anus show no sign of tear, so all I can imagine is that each snake took turn moving up or down those body tracts and biting him. Ridiculous, really, isn't it?" "Yes," Noam said thoughtfully as he looked down at the body. "Very well, Ed," he finally said. "Thanks for your time. Please let me know if you have anything new." He passed Ed a paper with his number. Noam inhaled with relief when he stepped out of the morgue. Damn, he hated those places that reeked of death. But death was his second skin -- it clung to him like a suffocating cloak, reminding him of the demons inside his head that drove him in this wretched life of his. His handsome face, always affable and likeable, dropped its façade as he stood alone on the pavement. Ed, if asked, would describe "Mr Peter Arthouse" as a handsome, even boyish man with dark hair that was almost black, a height of about six feet two, and a charming smile that made him seem very approachable. Ed, like many people, would however find himself unable to describe the man's face and even voice in detail. This was because Noam presented to people like Ed only a part of his true face. His true face was sterner, harsher, his boyish handsomeness marred by lines that could only arise as a result of events that hardened his will and blackened his heart into an unfeeling husk. This Noam was darker, a corruption of the former good-natured easy-going young man whose life came crashing to a halt when his parents were murdered when they accidentally stumbled across a murder being committed by an assassin under the payroll of James Lafferty. To all, James Lafferty was a handsome young entrepreneur who turned his late father's failing newspaper into one with one of the highest circulation in this country as well as seventeen others. Ironically, the newspaper, the Daily Argos -- named for the hundred- eyed giant in Greek mythology -- published news exposing corruption and other sordid details that soon gave James a reputation for being a fighter for truth. He was even nominated for a Pulitzer, although perhaps James had some conscience left in him to turn down the nomination. Underneath the façade of a crusader, James was however one of the very people he built his career on denouncing. The ironic reason for his publishing company remaining unmolested was because he had the power and ruthlessness to personally silence any dissent. The people he exposed were his rivals that refused to submit to his control. Those who still had some fight left after he was done with them inevitably lose their lives to James' loyal retinue of assassins, said to be led by James' stepbrother Chad Murray who was rumored to be James' lover as well. It was Chad who sent the then sixteen-year old Noam a bouquet on the funeral of his parents and had the temerity to show up late in the funeral with several of his assassins, all clad in black. They had stood silently at the back of the church, at all appearances respectful of the ceremony apart from the small tight grin on Chad's face that mocked Noam. "I'm sorry about your parents. They were at the wrong place, at the wrong time," was all Chad said when an enraged Noam confronted him. "I saw you... you smiled as you ordered my parents to be killed," Noam spat. He was sixteen, foolish and convinced of his invulnerability. "Take revenge on me then," Chad simply said, merely adjusting his collar in a mocking gesture. "Be like Bruce Wayne then, become Batman and haunt my dreams." He smiled again, that mocking smile that was simultaneously very attractive and very insulting. "I can wait." Noam had to grow up fast since then. In the ten years since, he had watched as James and Chad remained unmolested by the law, all charges of his parents' murder having fallen on some homeless man who still had no idea who framed him for the crime or how he was framed. Noam watched as James grew older and more powerful in the underworld while to the people that adored James Lafferty the man only became more likeable and popular. It was shocking how Noam was of the same age as James. When Noam was sixteen, he only cared for fucking, boozing, and partying, unable to imagine in his naivety that another young man of only sixteen could be capable of unspeakable sins, such as ordering the murder of two innocent people who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Noam knew now. He had spent five years training under a group of mercenaries and learning from them how to use firearms, knives, and his fists to hurt, maim, and kill. He honed his body to become a weapon. His endurance, flexibility, agility, stamina, and stealth could put a Navy SEAL to shame. And it was this stealth and dexterity of his that allowed Noam Jenkins to jump up to grab the street lamp high up and used it as leverage to vault onto a narrow foothold on the third floor of the building that housed the morgue. In a space of ten seconds, Noam had left the pavement five floors down and moved up to the rooftop, where he stood and ran his fingers wearily through his hair as he cursed this unknown person and his or her snakes that managed to kill Candor Mitchell, the powerful arms dealer wanted in thirty countries worldwide for his activities, before Noam could get to that man. He wouldn't be denied again his target, Noam promised himself. There was a glint of particularly bright sunlight reflected on his shades. When the sunlight dimmed slightly, Noam was gone. TWO The Angel, they called him. Miguel Ángel Silvestre was his full name. The Angel, Noam realized, was therefore a rather derivative thing to call this useless playboy. However, the moniker fit the twenty- four year old heir to one of South America's biggest fortunes. Miguel's fortune was built in sugar on the backbone of countless slaves that made the Silvestre plantations over two hundred years to the billion-dollar business it was today. The Angel descended into New York's adoring glitterati about two months ago and he had been the darling of society ever since. While Noam didn't care about the man's outlook in life, he knew everything he had to know about the world he lived in. He therefore knew what the Angel did, the ridiculously number of men and women that he did, and how he did them. It was expected that a man like the Angel would avail himself to every pleasure his fortune and good looks afforded him. Nonetheless, Noam, even when he was younger and more stupid, couldn't imagine doing half of what the Angel was rumored to have done. Fucking the Sheraton sisters and their mother at the same time was Noam's favorite rumor about the Angel. He knew the Sheraton mother and he couldn't imagine that proper and well-mannered woman to indulge in a wanton orgy with her daughters. Or... would she? Noam frowned slightly as he watched Marilinda rubbed her hand along the Angel's arm as she whispered almost intimately into his ear. It was a nice arm, Noam admitted to himself, reluctantly taking in the sight of the Angel's white shirt being stretched by the man's muscular physique just enough to highlight the Angel's impressive muscles in all the right places. Speaking of muscles, Noam's eyes couldn't resist moving downwards the Angel's body to check out the muscles that a gay man with a healthy libido would be most intrigued by. The Angel's buttocks were high, taut, and tightly rounded. Those bubble butt cheeks filled the Angel's grey trousers until the fabric was snug against tempting flesh like a second skin. When the Angel moved to a nearby table to get a drink, the front of those pants stretched and molded the man's crotch with every graceful step the man took. Noam swallowed as he saw the way the other man filled the crotch -- either the Angel shamelessly padded his front or the man was one of those rare well-endowed men that never encountered any problems filling out a pair of snug trousers. When Noam moved to whisper something that made Marilinda laugh, Noam caught the man's side profile and sure enough, there was a visible bulge in the Angel's crotch. With the number of women and men throwing themselves at the Angel, Noam hazarded that it was likely that Miguel Ángel Silvestre was probably half-hard from the attention. That only made Noam wonder how impressive the other man would be if he was fully aroused. An obvious dampness in Noam's crotch had the effect of breaking his reverie. He quickly glanced down at his black trousers. Fucking hell, he was close to popping as he imagined the Angel naked and aroused, his cock so hard and painful that he was in danger of creating an embarrassing tent in the front of his jeans. Already his cock was spewing salty clear lubrication in anticipation of a vigorous fuck, causing a pool of sticky wetness to form at where the head of his cock was carelessly wedged in his briefs. Control, Noam told himself as he willed his body to succumb to the iron discipline he lived by. He tried to remember that the Angel was only some playboy that he had no use for. That thought however only gave rise to treacherous images in his mind about how he could very well use the Angel. He could see taut buttocks clenched tight in desire... male bodies straining for relief... Noam bit back a sob as his control snapped. A part of him that was still capable of sane thoughts thankful that his pants were dark enough to hide his arousal as long as people weren't watching him too closely, Noam quickly strode across the room towards the one place where he could overcome his unruly desires. He moaned softly in relief as he unzipped his pants and pulled the waistband of his briefs down. His cock sprang free, hard and jutting forward for fulfillment, and Noam's knees trembled until he had to press his palms against the wall of the toilet cubicle to remain on his feet. Noam blindly thrust his hips forth, fucking the air with a thick and violently throbbing cock that was so full of blood that the head was nearly purple in shade. His hand... he needed to use his hand... but as Noam tried to take his right hand from the wall, his knees buckled. Noam gave one wild thrust as his body seemed to find the last vestiges of primal male need hidden away in his well-disciplined body and let this male need take over his very senses. He howled, an inhuman sound of pure male hunger, just as he felt the latch on the door behind him gave way. Maddened with need, he thrust his hips one more time even as he lost his balance and started to fall onto his back on the floor. A powerful arc of warm semen exploded from his cock slit, splattering across three mirrors located on the wall five feet away from Noam. Noam fell onto his back and, lost in his lust, his hips seemed to lose all control as they kept thrusting again and again. Spurts after spurts of his hot seed splashed from his pulsing cock as Noam's body shook in violent spasms. His come shot onto his face, onto his hair and over his eyes until he could barely see, over his nose until he had to open his mouth wider to breathe through his pants and moans, and subsequently into his mouth. As his spurts weakened in their strength with each subsequent pulse of ejaculation, he soaked his shirt with his own fluids until the cotton stuck to his sweaty skin, his semen forming an obscene treasure trail of sorts along the valley of his ridged abs until his fluids spread out and dripped amidst the matted thick fur around his now slightly softened cock. Sssssss... Noam opened his eyes. A snake, here? His eyes fell onto a pair of shoes right beside his prone body. He looked up a pair of long and muscular legs clothed in grey to a bulging crotch that was now obviously straining to rein in an erection. Noam looked up higher, right at the face of the Angel himself. The Angel didn't seem to care that Noam was lying in a pool of his own sex fluids or that the Angel was standing right in it with Noam's semen now glistening against the dark leather of the Angel's shoes. Sssssss... "What?" Noam started to say. "Did you hear that sound...?" "What sound?" the Angel merely asked. Oh, even his voice, a sweet masculine tenor that sent shivers down Noam's spine and a jolt of lust, like electricity, that caused his cock to throb even as it lengthened to its full length and girth until the Angel's gaze. "This?" he asked. There was an odd accent, Noam thought, the way the Angel seemed to be draw about the S in his words. Maybe that was the sound he mistook for a snake. His meeting with Ed earlier today was making him paranoid. "This?" the Angel asked again, and yes, the man had a way of drawing out the S a little. Noam relaxed. This cavernous bathroom could produce an echo effect that magnified the man's accent until Noam thought he heard a snake. The Angel pressed Noam's right hand so that his palm was pressed against the Angel's chest right over the heart. Noam's lips parted as he thought he could actually hear the rapid beating of the Angel's heart in his head, beating in erotic unison to his own heartbeat. "I hear you," Noam said in a raspy tone as he used his other hand to unbutton the Angel's shirt. The Angel moved to straddle Noam, his other hand already unbuckling his belt. Those grey pants fell over Noam's shoes as the Angel, wearing only a pair of low-rise red briefs, moved to sit gently over Noam's cock that lay on his stomach. The Angel threw his head back and gave a soft moan as he began moving his crotch back and forth, letting the heated flesh between his hairy legs and his testicles massage Noam's cock erotically as Noam pulled Angel's shirt off and threw it absently out of the way. His movements had caused the Angel's cock shaft to escape the confines of his skimpy briefs so that the full muscular fleshy shaft jutted forth like the spear of a powerful warrior. Already it was dripping its own pearly lubrication, a sticky strand of such fluid falling from the angry slit to mix with the pool of similar fluid forming right around the head of Noam's cock. They were both reluctant to break contact of their flesh so the Angel merely reached down and pushed aside the fabric of his briefs to expose his hairy anal pucker. Noam held his cock with one hand as he coughed spit onto his other hand and lubricated his cock. And then the Angel was pressing his tight asshole ring against Noam's cock head. The other man gave a slow but forceful downward pressure and he moaned. Noam cried out as he felt the other man's anal ring stretch and give. And then he was inside the hottest, wettest, and tightest sheath he could ever want for his sensitized cock. THREE They fucked like maddened beasts lost to human reason. The Angel rode Noam hard at first. Noam kissed the man roughly until he tasted blood on both their lips as the Angel visibly exploded in his climax. And then Noam took the Angel to paradise again, this time with him on top and kissing the other man's mouth, face, shoulders, and neck as Noam's hips violently thrust his cock in and out of the Angel's asshole until his hips were nearly a blur. Because Noam had come once before, he could control his impending orgasm. Hell, even on a typical day, Noam never failed to drive his lovers into at least three orgasms of their own before he unleashed his own climax on them. He might not be a playboy like the Angel here, but he had his own reputation as a hard-loving stud too. He wondered whether the Angel had heard of Noam's infamous stamina, proven first when he was fourteen and once more two months ago. On his twenty-sixth birthday party two months ago, he beat well-known studs like Ian Lawless, Mark Wahlberg, Jay Vockler, and Brandon Showalter in a fuck competition that was held behind closed doors with an audience of close friends. Each man would have a soft plastic arrow penetrated into his asshole for every climax he could bring his partner without coming himself. Ian quickly dropped out after eight arrows, Mark and Jay at nine arrows each, and Brandon managed to continue until he obtained his fourteenth arrow. But Noam kept going even as yet another arrow was shoved up his ass. Sixteen arrows trembled violently in Noam's convulsing asshole as his taut buttocks heaved while his unflagging cock moved in and out of his lover's anus... then seventeen... nineteen... until his lover, a yoga instructor named Zenith, screamed that he couldn't take it anymore. Noam pulled his cock out and merely grabbed blindly someone close to him -- Zenith's sister -- before ramming his come-slicked cock home into her pussy. Twenty-five arrows -- Nadia couldn't take it anymore so Noam ruthlessly sodomized her in the ass instead. He came hard and exploded deep into her bowels twenty minutes after the fortieth arrow was forced into his well-stretched anus. Noam didn't even stop the movement of his hips as he kept fucking his still hard cock into Nadia's ass. "Give me another arrow!" he cried as he sent Nadia into another powerful organism. Knowing that she was worn out completely, Noam pulled out to lie on his side on the cushions. This time, he didn't have to ask for someone to replace his current worn-out lover. Someone -- he didn't really bother to see who it was -- soon had his cock sheathed in deep masculine ass. As Noam fucked like the bull he was, the other guests were aroused by him into an orgy of hedonistic sexual acts. Even so, they still came like they never had before when Noam took anyone who wanted a piece of him. Only when the hundredth arrow was forcefully shoved into his obscenely stretched asshole that his body couldn't take it anymore. That one hundredth arrow stretching his ass better than any fist he'd ever had sent a final jolt of pleasure like a powerful lightning bolt that nearly paralyzes him. He came so hard that his balls hurt from the violent emptying. One hundred arrows -- compared to the forty arrows when he was merely fourteen, one hundred arrows proved that Noam Jensen, nicknamed the Archer, had only become better with age. And lucky Miguel Ángel Silvestre was getting everything that Noam usually reserved for... well, the second date at the earliest. Noam didn't like to take things too fast so usually he would go as far as to introduce his cock into the mouth of his date on the first night out, preferably before they say goodbye and his date left his car. Noam liked to get his dates to savor the taste of his come and the feel of his cock in their mouths during the rest of the night and until they meet again, all the better for Noam to introduce his cock into the pussy or anus of his date on their subsequent night out. But lucky, lucky the Angel, thought Noam sardonically, he was getting the full Noam Jensen stud service barely a minute into their first conversation. Noam savagely whispered how lucky the Angel was as he roughly pumped the man as he pressed the Angel's beautifully sculpted body against the wall of the toilet. An elderly man entered the bathroom and nearly had a heart attack at the sight of the Angel bent over the sink just one foot away from the elderly man and Noam fucking the man so hard that the sink rattled with each thrust. A spurt of fluid composed of Noam's semen and Angel's ass juices squirted from the Angel's well-packed asshole during one of Noam's particularly violent thrust and hit the man right on the tongue as the man gaped at them. "I'll talk to you about the contract on Monday, Barry!" the Angel called out as the elderly man managed to croak out a sound of shock and fled. "Damn you, you've lost me a contract!" he then told Noam. Noam laughed as he told the Angel that Barry might be shocked but he swallowed the fuck juices that landed on his mouth nonetheless. The Angel got off Noam's cock and moved to lock the toilet door. "No more interruptions," the Angel said. "An old schoolteacher is out there." Noam laughed, uproariously this time, as he pulled Angel towards him for yet another round of energetic fuck. As Angel lay on the floor, on a pool of their clothes stained with their sweat and fuck juices, he closed his eyes and pressed his arm against his forehead. He happened to glance at his watch and another merry laugh bubbled from his bruised and bleeding lips. "We've been fucking for five hours!" he told Noam. "I've never lasted this long before!" As Noam only grinned in response, he asked the man, "Hey, you wanna move to some place more comfortable after you come?" Noam shrugged. A bed would be nice, although what he would do to someone like Angel didn't need anything other than Noam's hard cock. But he then gasped when he felt Angel's muscular anal passage tighten around his penis. Wow, what kind of sexual trick this was, he had never experienced it before but he liked it, Noam decided as he now moaned in pleasure. His overly-sensitized cock wasn't just being gripped by tight ass, that ass was actually massaging Noam's fleshy shaft. The best way Noam could describe this situation was that it was as if a warm fleshy sheath was coating his cock like second skin and then someone's hand massaged Noam's cock, starting from the base and teasing him upwards along the shaft all the way to the head, that hand kneading and pressing tightly on Noam's cock before easing the pressure that was building up in that cock. It was an incredible feeling! He was being milked by an exceptionally talented ass. Noam's bloated sperm-filled balls tightened in anticipation of another rush of ejaculation as powerful shards of ecstasy cut through Noam's senses like sharp jagged glass. His spine was on fire, the base of his spine feeling like a furnace waiting to explode. The Angel arched his back and screamed as Noam's savage cock action sent his burning prostate over the edge and his body experienced yet another powerful orgasm. Something tightened so powerfully around Noam's cock that he gave an answering shout to the Angel's screams of pleasure. The blood coursing through the thick veins and arteries of his cock was a raging and unstoppable flood, making Noam feel like he was about to burst as his cock hardened to the point that those blood vessels felt like bursting. His seminal tubes burned as his buttocks clenched. The dam in his balls broke and Noam groaned triumphantly as his semen bloated his seminal tubes, the friction of his boiling fuck cream on full speed surge against the sensitive walls of the tube causing his lower body to burn with ecstasy. And then the inferno spread along his shaft, burning across the length as his powerful ejaculate bloat and stretch the urethra, causing his cock to become rock hard as a result. And then the head of his cock was on fire. The wide slit of his cock head seemed to be forcefully split wider open as Noam thrust harder into the Angel in shallow rapid hip motions in anticipation of the inevitable glorious ecstasy that will come. And then Noam was there -- he gritted his teeth to prevent the triumphant howl from fully escaping from his lips as powerful surges after surges of tidal waves of virile come erupted into the Angel, causing Noam to join the other man to be completely lost in their intimate climax. He had just gotten his breathing under control when the Angel kissed him. Oh, that was right, they hadn't even kissed properly yet, Noam realized and set about to rectify this oversight. He parted his lips and was somewhat surprised when the Angel's tongue aggressively moved in to explore every inch of Noam's mouth and even his throat. He let his own tongue respond with an aggressive dance of seductive exploration of its own. Soon their tongues were rubbing against each other as they moaned and tasted their sex in each other's mouth. He was so lost in the sensual kiss that he was only aware that their bodies had instinctively moved to once again become one when their lower bodies began moving in the same dance that their tongues are performing. The party was long over when they opened the toilet door and the lights were out. Not bothering to dress, they laughed and ran to the Angel's Jaguar, stopping along the way to kiss and touch each other's body. One time, they got so carried away that once again Noam's cock found its way up into the Angel's well-used ass. Noam hoped that the owner of the black Mercedes in the car park wouldn't be too upset by the stains left on the hood. When they finally collapsed into the Angel's bed, Noam wanted to do so much more but his body was so close to breaking point that the moment his nude body touched the bed, he could only hold the Angel in his arms as he drifted off to sleep. FOUR It was tough being Miguel Silvestre's fuck buddy. Noam wasn't complaining, of course, since the sex was unbelievably good. In the one week he had been fucking his Angel, his body felt like it had survived a long boxing match, for he was so bruised and sore from the effort of indulging his every desire as well as his Angel's. His Angel. Funny how easily he began to consider Miguel as his Angel. He didn't even realize when he started referring to the Angel as his. But tonight he had to put all thoughts of his Angel out of his head. He had to stop feeling vaguely guilty about lying to his Angel about working at his company when he was in fact trying to nail that son of a bitch who was killing every sorry low life fuck that stayed too long in this part of town. In fact, word around the underground was that every low life who could afford hired guns had increased the number of their bodyguards while those who couldn't or who were too sensible to care for their lives had fled. Someone was killing them. In one week, five men had died the same way that Candor Mitchell did -- perplexingly large number of poisonous snake bites along one's throat, esophagus, and anus. Normally Noam would give this killer a medal but he didn't like being cheated on his own vengeance. He had to find a way to meet this killer and tell that fucker to back off. As much as he wanted to temporarily put Miguel out of his mind, he couldn't help recalling Miguel's laughter in his mind. They were surprisingly well at ease with each other outside the bedroom, Noam realized. If he was a normal guy with normal ambitions, he might be tempted to see if he and Miguel could work something out together. It was just sex, he told himself now, but a treacherous part of his mind only reminded him of how much he enjoyed having Angel telling him over dinner how the man's day had been. That treacherous mind of his replayed how much they had fun taking that walk down the streets two evenings ago. They just talked about nothing as they walked with no particular destination in mind, until they learned that they actually had many things in common such as a mutual love for Bruce Springsteen and Eric Clapton. How they had laughed and argued until somehow the very comfortable ease they had with each other blossomed into desire! And how they raced each other to his Angel's penthouse block and, after a frenzied quickie in the elevator, they fucked in his Angel's bed with familiar urgency and desire that were enhanced by an exciting element of newness. Noam wondered whether he would ever discover what this newness was. He suspected that a part of him already knew the nature of that newness. He just wasn't sure whether he was ready to acknowledge that he and his Angel were heading towards. The harsh sound of his tracker beeping to life interrupted his reverie. Noam looked down at the monitor and smiled harshly. His target was on the move. So would he, then. Noam began running along the rooftop, picking up speed until he was all but a blur. He reached the edge of the rooftop and without hesitation jumped. He landed on the rooftop of the building across the street without missing a beat or a step despite the distance separating the two buildings. The night moon shone brightly in the clear night sky as Noam began his hunt. There was an audible click of a gun as Miguel opened the door of his penthouse. His blood was running high and he was feeling good from the kill, Noam thought as he pointed his silencer at the man who had taken his cock and made him feel like he had no idea where up or down was anymore. "Good evening, my Angel dear," he said, surprised that his voice was calm. Then again, he was calm. Perhaps he should be hysterical or worried that he was going crazy. But he was as calm as he could be, as if he had just received some mundane news instead of the evidence that his Angel was a fucking liar. His Angel shut the door behind him. Miguel, his lying Angel, merely removed his coat and was about to loosen his tie when Noam made a sound warning the man to step into the light. With his other hand, Noam picked up the remote control and switched on the TV and DVD player. "I went to a warehouse today looking for a popular drug dealer who has just set up shop. There's a new drug, simply called Pop, which is very popular. Have you tried it? It is supposed to make you so fucking high it's better than sex. It will kill you too, that Pop. Anyway, I paid Ernie a visit but again I was too late. Too fucking late, my Angel!" He tried to calm down. "And we both know why." He had tried to watch the tape a million times while waiting for Miguel to return, each time willing himself to wake up and realize that he was just having a nightmare. He watched Miguel as the man looked impassively at the TV. Noam could see in his mind what Miguel was seeing: Ernie in his pants and nothing else cutting up the rocks, his Angel showing up at the door, and those two men kissed passionately before Noam switched off the TV and wanted to smash his fist through the TV screen. As he had a million times before, he switched off the TV. In deadly grace he had perfected, he was on his feet and in front of Miguel before Miguel could blink. His fist backhanded Miguel so hard that there was a loud and terrifying crack of bones colliding hard with bones. A warm arc of blood landed in a streak on the polished marble floor as Miguel crashed against the far wall hard. "I suggest you keep watching, Noam," Miguel said, his voice calm, as he got back on his feet. "Or will jealousy be preferable to the truth? Or --" Here, Miguel smiled wanly. Was he afraid? -- "are you afraid that you cannot handle the truth?" Noam moved to switch the TV back on. "I love you, Noam." Noam's frustration and fury welled up inside. "Shut up," he snarled. Furiously, he tried to blink so that his tears wouldn't fall. It hurt, it fucking hurt like he had never felt before and all his discipline didn't prepare him for agony of this magnitude. "Please, forget that tape. Let us be like we were," Miguel said. Oh, was he begging now? He looked pained, even afraid to Noam. Noam looked in the far mirror on the wall and saw his face. He turned back to Noam and saw his own fear and pain reflected on his Angel's face. No, not his Angel anymore -- Miguel wasn't his Angel, never was. "You're with them! You're a spy for them. You set me up, didn't you?" Noam said, trying desperately to keep his turbulent emotions in check. "Watch the tape, then," Miguel whispered and closed his eyes. Noam was puzzled by Miguel's abrupt change of stance, from pleading to resignation. Miguel merely rubbed his hands over his face as Noam carefully picked up the remote while keeping an eye on the man. He switched on the TV and resume playing the DVD. Because Noam was a stranger to feelings since that day when he vowed never to feel anything again, he couldn't keep his well-honed instincts together. A part of him later would remember the words of the Chinese martial arts expert Tsu Jienn whom he had studied with years ago, on the day when Noam had finally overtaken the master in the art of the fists as well as in sex. "Never love," the elderly man had told Noam as he watched Noam pull on his briefs. Noam, only eighteen then, had finished fucking Tsu Jienn one last time. Yesterday, he had defeated Tsu Jienn in unarmed combat ten minutes into their training. Later that night, Tsu Jienn admitted in between gasps as Noam fucked him that none of his disciples had defeated him before, much less doing it ten minutes into the sparring after only slightly more than a year in training. Tsu Jienn told Noam now, "Love will make you forget everything you've learned because the heart is more powerful than the strongest desire for vengeance or hatred." At that time, Noam thought that eleven hours of hard fucking had addled the old man's mind. In his youth, he was impetuous enough to assume that he knew more than anyone else. Too cocky in his sexual prowess, he never realized Tsu Jienn was so infatuated with his skills in pugilism and his beauty that the elderly man broke his vow of celibacy and seduced Noam three days into their training. He boned Tsu Jienn as often as he could when he wasn't training because he didn't have anything better to do. So he merely shrugged, finished pulling on his clothes, and told the man, "Thanks for everything, Master Tsu. I'll make you proud of me." He then left without a backward glance, onwards to learning more skills that he could use to hone his quest for vengeance, never knowing that he had broken Tsu Jienn's heart and more. Noam realized too late the warning in Tsu Jienn's words now as he felt this overpowering urge to stop watching Miguel and stared instead at the TV, hoping that somehow he would learn that his Angel was really his and he had just misunderstood the situation. But a wounded sob was wrenched from him when he saw how Miguel and Ernie kissed and touched each other until both of them were naked. Ernie sat up at the table and spread his legs obscenely. Angel stepped between them, his back to the camera. Noam silently gasped when his jealousy turned into shock when Ernie suddenly twitched in Miguel's embrace. Miguel kissed Ernie and there was no mistaking the thrust of his hips between Ernie's legs, but Ernie was acting as if he was in pain. After a few seconds, Miguel broke the embrace and stepped back. Ernie fell back onto the table, looking as if he was dead. He was. Noam found the man's naked body in that condition when he broke into the warehouse and, after careful search of the perimeter, discovered this carefully hidden video camera that taped everything that happened between Ernie and his killer. "You killed him." Noam ran his hand wearily through his hair, forgetting completely that he had dropped his silencer onto the floor. He was confused. "How...?" "It's best you don't know, Noam," said Miguel quietly. Noam turned to look at the man. Miguel blanched and looked away. Noam didn't blame the man. He probably looked like hell. How had this happen? When Miguel told him those beautiful three words, Noam knew even as the fact calcified in his heart that he loved Miguel, his Angel, back. He probably was in love the moment his cock found its way into Miguel's ass for the first time. Noam was no philosopher -- he didn't really know when or why he fell in love with his Angel, he was a man of action so he only knew how to act on his feelings. "Why do you kill these people?" Noam had to know. "The same reason you want to kill them." Miguel licked his dry lips nervously. "Only, I kill them because I don't want you to lose your soul to the darkness in you." Noam shook his head in confusion. "Who are you? How the hell do you know about me?" "I don't know you when I started hunting," Miguel explained. "I'm like you, Noam. We take down these bastards when the law won't touch them. And yes, I know about your reputation. Only, I don't know about you being that vigilante until I started knowing you better and realized just how alike we are." "Why didn't you tell me that you know? We could have worked together," Noam asked. "We can't be together, Noam," Miguel said bleakly. "I'm lost. I've surrendered to the darkness in my soul. You still have a chance. You're doing what you do for vengeance, which I can tell you right now is the wrong thing to do." He leaned with his back against the wall and looked at Noam with a look of such despair that Noam took an instinctive step forward to take Miguel in his arms. "No, don't come closer. Look, let me show you what vengeance has made me." Noam didn't know how he could witness what happened next without losing his sanity, but he suspected that it was because he loved Miguel. Irrationally, perhaps, to the point that nothing could kill his love once that feeling grew and took seed in his heart, but he loved Miguel come what may. So he watched, not even making a sound. Miguel opened his mouth wide. There was a soft tearing sound as his mouth continued to open wider, his jaw lowering to the point of dislocation. The man lowered his head, mouth still opened wide. Noam watched, transfixed, as the head of a snake appeared from Miguel's mouth. He watched as more and more of the snake slithered out of Miguel's mouth. Noam could even see the ripples along Miguel's neck as the muscles accommodated the passage of the snake until with a wet sickening plop, a snake of about ten feet in length dropped from Miguel's mouth onto the floor. FIVE "I am the snakes," Miguel said. "They are a part of me. My body is human apart from the fact that..." He closed his eyes and shuddered, as if the very act of describing his very being repulsed him. "My father once hired... someone to examine me. After doing some scans, he concluded that while I have the usual organs needed for me to function, thousands, maybe millions, of snakes live inside my body in an unnatural manner. I can control them to do anything I want... even kill." His explanation was interrupted with a gasp of surprise from him when Noam took the man in his arms and held Miguel tight in a comforting muscular embrace. "How did this happen, my Angel?" Noam whispered into Miguel's ear. "I don't know. My grandmother said it was a curse of the family. Something about an ancestor of mine abusing his slaves until a Haitian voodoo shaman cursed him to become an embodiment of his sins, I think. My ancestor killed himself to escape the wrath of the shaman so lucky me, the curse lived on through me. One of my uncles suffered from the same condition and he killed himself because he couldn't live with the horror that he had become. So the curse somehow ended on me. When I was born, they said that I was crying and instead of tears, small black snakes were slithering from my eyes." Miguel took a deep breath to steady his nerves. "I can't take the easy way out and die because the curse will just move on to someone in the next generation. I need to find a way to break the curse. Maybe by doing good things and ridding the world of evil, I can break the curse. I can be normal again." Noam knew he shocked Miguel by laughing but he couldn't help him. His laughter was genuine and free, light because he felt the weight of his fear about losing Miguel and living with the fear that nothing they had was real lifting off his shoulders. "Is that all?" Noam asked Miguel, even teasing the man. "Well then, we can break the curse together." "You don't...?" "Fear you? Hate you?" Noam shook his head. "You're my Angel. Will you hurt me?" "No," Miguel said. "These snakes are me. They won't hurt you because I won't hurt you." The snake slithered up Noam's leg, as if to make a point. Noam lifted a wary hand to gently touch the snake's head. The snake blinked at Noam before resuming its slow slithery exploration up Noam's leg. It's a pretty big snake, Noam thought. "What are you doing?" Miguel started to ask. "Hey, just relax," Noam told him as he reached down to unbuckle his belt. Careful so as to not to startle the snake unnecessarily, Noam kicked off his pants until he was wearing only his jockstrap. He then pulled his shirt off. He rested his back against the wall and folded his arms behind his head. A sigh of pleasure escaped his lips as he felt the weight of the snake on his fast hardening cock. The snake's slithering rubbed his cock against his balls and left thigh, causing his cock to throb with pleasure. It now moves up Noam's bare torso, the scales on its body teasing his nipples to the point that he was sure that Miguel was deliberately making that snake torture him in this manner. The snake was now coiled around Noam's neck and it now slowly made its way back down Noam's body. Noam pushed the waistband of his jockstrap down so that his cock could spring free and expand to its impressive dimensions freely. "Oh yes," he murmured when the snake let its tongue flicker and tease Noam's sensitive cock head. He moaned louder when the snake began coiling around that cock. Even with the snake's girth, the crown of Noam's cock was still visible despite the snake having entwined its serpentine length around the thick penis three times. The snake began slowly constricting Noam's cock just enough to exert a firm pressure to make Noam moan in delight before easing up on that cock. It didn't take long before a powerful spurt of come gushed forward from Noam's cock slit. Miguel opened his mouth and made a sound of delight when he managed to catch the first potent rush of ejaculate from Noam's dick. He lowered his head to capture more of Noam's semen as appetizer until he was hungrily sucking Noam dry. Noam watched, fascinated, as Miguel pushed down his pants and kicked them off. The snake slowly slithered off Noam's muscular body towards Miguel. An erotic moan vibrated through Noam as he licked his dry lips and stared as the snake pushed its head between the tight folds of Miguel's anal entrance. Noam raised his body, wanting to see more. The snake pushed its head between the tight pucker, causing Miguel to visibly tremble in pleasure. "Shit, Miguel!" Noam said in wonder as he watched the snake slowly slither back into its home in Miguel's body, its long sinewy form slowly disappearing into that man's ass. His hips thrust hungrily into Miguel's mouth as his lust moved into overdrive. His own snake was bursting to follow that snake up Miguel's ass so he gently rubbed Miguel's shoulders and asked the man to let him fuck his ass. This fuck was especially wild. Noam thought he would go out of his mind from indescribable ecstasy when, upon his urging, Miguel demonstrated how he killed the others. As Noam fucked Miguel doggy-style, they both watched in the mirror as Miguel demonstrated one other orifice that his snakes could use as a gate to the outside world (Miguel never let his snakes use his ears since he'd like to keep his eardrums intact). As Miguel gripped the frame of the wall-length mirror with both his hands as he tried to keep his balance with each thrust of hard virile cock up his ass from behind, his own cock throbbed and then swelled to an unnatural degree. With a wild cry, Miguel coaxed forth a thick snake that slithered out of Miguel's obscenely stretched cock slit. However, this time around it was the tail that emerged first from Miguel's gruesomely bloated cock that stretched its unnaturally elastic muscles to accommodate the passage of the snake. It was a snake that Noam could recognize from its color and tail. He licked his lips and kissed Miguel hard on the shoulders and neck as he whispered, his voice harsh from his increasingly feverish lust, "Do it!" Miguel threw his head back and arched his body as pleasure-pain seized hold of his body the moment the tail of the rattlesnake forcefully penetrates his asshole. This caused him to thrust especially hard and deep into Miguel, causing the pleasure pooling in Miguel's body to explode into a powerful climax that shook him to the core. Stretched wide in the ass, Miguel felt his urgent desire rise to a feverish pitch that saw him brutally raping Miguel like a madman while Miguel screamed for more. Noam felt the thick form of the rattlesnake slowly withdrawing from his ass and he instinctively tightened his anal hold on it. When the snake began teasing him by moving its length in and out of Noam's steaming asshole, Noam couldn't hold on to his vaunted control for long. It was only ten minutes or so of hard ass fucking before he noisily emptied his balls of their huge load into Miguel. Now that he knew that he was sticking his cock into an ass filled with the most poisonous snakes in existence, he grinned at the thought of his load drenching those poor unnatural fuckers in the eye. Those snakes didn't seem to mind though as Noam felt them coiling around his cock that was still buried deep in Miguel's anal passage and teased him with their playful constrictions. "I love you in this form," Noam told the other man. He playfully caressed Miguel's cock, enjoying the fascinating feel of the python withdrawing itself back into its home through Miguel's urethra. When the snake has completely withdrawn, Miguel's cock was back to its natural half-flaccid size. Noam had to take that cock in his mouth to savor the erotic sight he had just witnessed. He finally remembered that he was supposed to talking to Miguel once he had swallowed every drop Miguel had to give. "You really love me?" Miguel asked hopefully. "Oh, yeah!" Noam said happily as he playfully pulled back an errant dark curl that had fallen over Miguel's forehead. "Just imagine, my Angel, you and me, a team." He frowned as a thought struck him. "I don't want you to fucking those bastards, though, even if it's just to stick a snake up their ass," he told the man. "The only ass your snake will explore is mine. Deal?" "Deal," Miguel told him and pulled him down for a kiss. Noam's cock throbbed back to life as he moves to cover Miguel's body with his own. He heard a hiss of a snake as he hungrily kissed Miguel. While he would have been paranoid and suspicious only a week ago, now he thought he couldn't think of much sweeter music to his ears. EPILOGUE Tsu Jienn passed away sometime after dawn seven days after Noam's first anniversary with Miguel. Noam was there by Tsu Jienn's side when the elderly man died. Noam Jensen wanted to meet Tsu Jienn again and express his gratitude to that man for his wise words and his sincere grief that he was too stupid to appreciate Tsu Jienn back then. While he loathed to be separated from Miguel, they both knew he had to make this pilgrimage on his own. With Miguel's blessing, Noam honored his old master by giving Tsu Jienn the highest and most intimate form of respect a student could give an esteemed master. As he kissed his master's lips, he whispered to Tsu Jienn how he had learned to channel his need for vengeance into a more selfless form of crusade: he wanted to help those who need aid with the skills he had at his command. As he slowly mounted Tsu Jienn from behind, he managed to tell the elderly wise man about his dreams and hopes in life, his love for Miguel Ángel Silvestre, and how they would both make Tsu Jienn proud. The night turned into morning as Noam continued giving Tsu Jienn what the wise man wanted. Noam's cock rarely left Tsu Jienn's body. Even when they bathed in the river every morning, Noam would tenderly wash his master clean while his cock continued its expert strokes. In the night, Tsu Jienn had no need of blankets over his frail body because Noam's heated sweaty skin was all he needed while the man's molten sex fluids suffused Tsu Jienn's body with soothing warmth. Days passed as the student and the master lived in their private world of unbridled bliss. Tsu Jienn's moans of pleasure blended melodiously with Noam's lower growls of ecstasy. The sounds of wet flesh mating feverishly echoed in Tsu Jienn's cave as relentlessly as the constant cock action of Noam as his thick cock speared in and out of Tsu Jienn's heated asshole and mouth. Every surface in the cave, from the floor to the mattress to the table, constantly glistened with pools of come and even a little blood that kept dripping from Tsu Jienn's constantly packed ass as they constantly fucked anywhere and everywhere the moment their lust flared anew. It was shortly after dawn, one week and one year from the night when Noam's cock first sheathed itself in his true love's ass, when Tsu Jienn looked straight into Noam's eyes and said weakly, "Thank you, my student. Thank you, Noam Jensen." Tsu Jienn then gasped in his final sexual climax. Noam didn't grieve. He held his master close as he moaned and thrust his cock hard into Tsu Jienn's asshole, moved beyond words that Tsu Jienn's final sensation in life was Noam's potent seed, full of life and vigor, warming and flooding the dying old man's rectum and anus to the point of overflow. He completed his honoring of Tsu Jienn by rubbing his cock until he spewed a load over the man's face and into the man's lifeless mouth. Only after the last drop of semen had fallen into Tsu Jienn's mouth did Noam notice movement between Tsu Jienn's sperm- smeared thighs. As Noam watched, a thick black snake slowly pushed itself out of Tsu Jienn's ass, covered with a thick creamy coating of the copious amount of come Noam had shot into his late master's ass. A rebirth, Noam thought as he watched the snake disappear into the bushes. Or, he mused, perhaps, a birth of a new life. With his bare hands, he dug a grave for his master that he respected too late and a tombstone he made from a chisel to honor the man's memories. A day later, he was at the airport waiting for his flight to take him back to America, back... home -- home, where Miguel was. There were so much he and Miguel wanted to do, a new life filled with new adventures for the both of them. Noam couldn't wait to start living again.