Date: Wed, 21 May 2003 02:48:11 -0700 From: Loki Otaktay Subject: Next Well, it's been a long time since I've posted anything i've written exclusively. but i figure this is the only way to really get anything done. that is: when i have people hounding my ass to get the next chapter done. if this sparks your interest to read anything else i've written (including those stories written under my psuedonym TH380Y) please view my website, Lonely Ocean at Http://www.lonelyocean.co.uk Disclaimers: This story is fiction. The charecters, places and events contained herein in are simply that. This story contains sex between consenting minors and adults, consenting minors and minors & velvet lounge chairs with grand pianos. So, If you're not of legal age, or if sex between inanimate objects don't turn you on (Don't fucking lie to me, I know you like that kind of thing!) please read no further. Next Gabriel Duncan ONE "How long have you been waiting?" I asked, out of breath. "Too long," He didn't even wait for me to get off the bike before he wrapped his arms around me and tied my tongue in his. "Let's go inside. There's something I need to talk to you about." Inside was a mansion. A nice, big, white house with an iron wrought fence in the pricey suburbs of some town in Northern California. This boy, his name is Alex. We have an unofficial relationship. Most of the time it's just sex; but every once in a while we meet up for coffee and act real sweet to each other. I don't know what I thought it was, in hindsight. I probably shouldn't have gotten too attached. Alex led me up to his room by the hand. For some reason, this didn't seem like one of our usual social calls anymore. His stature was stiff and straight. His muscles stood out more than ever. Each step forward left me with an even stronger urge to return to the bike behind. Behind his closed door, Alex turned around. "Gabe, we need to talk." I knew what he was going to say before he even started. "Talk is cheap." I might have been called cheap then. But I just wanted to remember him how we used to be. When my lips touched his, I felt what was there from the beginning. There was that electricity; that sort of indescribable rush. Some people would say that a bolt of electricity flowed through us. But that shit didn't matter then. Our relationship was gone. Or whatever it was. Whatever we had . . . Right then, I wanted to make sure he would remember me forever. Shirts off, pants undone--we were on his bed making out, "preheating the oven", as he liked to say, when the door opened. Visiting time was over. I stood up, my cock hanging out of my pants fully engorged for whoever came in to see. My shirt was within reach and I stood in a side profile so that whoever walked in could see me as my shirt traveled down my body. He was a scrawny little white boy. His lips were parted and his eyes were wide open. Somehow, there was still a glare there. I smiled at him as I tucked myself in and fastened my belt. Alex was red in the cheeks and covering himself with a pillow when I looked back to wish him a good life. Walking back down the stairs towards the door, I could hear the boy call Alex's name. The cool air was refreshing. And my bike was inviting as I walked towards it. The door opened. "Gabe!" Alex called to me. "Gabe!" I turned to see Alex face-to-face with me. "Please don't be angry." I was. I was furious. After all, Alex was mine. I met him first. I couldn't understand why that little boy had won Alex's affection over mine. And I couldn't understand why Alex had invited me over without telling me someone else was there. Then I saw the brand new, red Ford Mustang in the drive-way. I felt nauseous. And I felt like beating the shit out of both them at the same time. For a few moments I stared at him and entertained the idea of making it look like a Murder-Suicide. But that was out of the question. "Please call me when you get home." Alex was pleading now. I hadn't even heard what he said before; or his lips moving for that fact. Scrawny White Boy was at the door now. "No," I looked into Alex's eyes, "Anything we had is gone now." His voice was shaking. He looked on the verge of tears, "Why are you being this way?" "Why didn't you tell me before?" I looked at him frustrated, "When I didn't have to have him fucking walking in on us to find out about him?" "I don't want to fight," He implored. "Neither do I," I rebuked flatly. I could hear Alex begin to cry as I rode off. That wasn't my concern anymore. Truth is: I knew he was seeing someone else. Truth is: I knew he knew that I was in love with him. Truth is: he was the type of person to say that we were never going out as an excuse for doing what he did. There was a bad taste in my mouth and a lump in my throat as I rode home. The lump turned into tears when I wheeled my bike into the door. I cried myself to sleep that night. It was four in the morning by the time I went to sleep. I had work that day at nine. "Hey Gabe!" My father's receptionist greeted me cheerfully. She was wearing a nice yellow blouse with flowers printed on it. Looked silk. I noticed my father's bag in his office, but it didn't seem as if he was there. I wondered where he went. I wanted to say hi. "You look wide awake." It was a joke. I dropped into the men's room on the way to the office and took a leak and a good look at myself in the mirror. Truth be told, I looked like someone had just slammed my face into a brick wall. "Hey," I smiled as best I could, "Dad told me there was some work for me?" "Oh yeah!" She got out of her chair and we walked to where my work is usually set. She picked up a few folders and flipped through the pages. "Well . . . You need to file a few things with the court; and also record a few things. You also need to deliver keys to Margaret Agosti and a copy of a signed will to Lawrence Penshank." "Alright," I took the parcels. "I'm going to do the filing and recording first. I hope Ms. Agosti and Mr. Penshank aren't expecting me anytime soon." "No," She replied, "They should both be home after three o'clock." "Awesome," I headed out the door. "I'll call you when I finish filing. Call me if you need any other jobs done. My cell phone's turned on." "Okay, Gabe. Good luck." Cigarette lit and music turned up, I drove off to the courthouse. Through the security, in the basement, just out of the elevator, I saw Ted. One of the other couriers who showed up around the same time that I did. He seemed to always wear a pair of pants with flambouyant straps and rings for which had no other purpose than to draw attention. And that they did; as well as the safety pins lining his long fishnet sleeves. Ted was hot. And he was 19. Only two years older than me. Not too bad, right? Even better . . . he's single. "Hey, Ted" I hailed him. "What's up, Gabe?" We hugged. He grabbed my ass. "Watch it, dude," I warned, "I'm single now." "Oh, really?" He gave me the sexiest grin he could possibly have given me. And we both knew it. "Does that mean you can finally go out for that cup of coffee I've been offering you for, how long now?" "At least a month." We both laughed. "Do you still have my number?" I asked. "Yeah, of course, man." His hands hadn't left my waist. I didn't notice it, but my fingertips were orbiting his waistline. "Awesome, call me around four and we should hook up." He nodded, winked and hopped in the elevator we were blocking. I had a shit-eating grin as I walked into the Probate Department. ---------------------------------------- Yeah, that's all for now. But there will be more, I swear. Send me email so I write quicker. sethoran @ hotmail. com Or go to my website at Http://www.lonelyocean.co.uk