Fist To The Heart Ch. 1

By Laura S. Fox 

Copyright 2019 Laura S. Fox 

All Rights Reserved 

Gay Erotica 

Intended for Mature Audiences Only 

This story will contain graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age. 

Consider making a donation to Nifty by clicking the little blue button on the front page, as they help us all enjoy so many great stories, while aiding authors like me to display their work.

 

Fist To The Heart summary: When Johnny `Snake' Bryne meets Ruslan Kent, the only thing he hopes for is to get busy between the sheets with the pretty man. He's a loner, a fighter, and complications like another person to care for are a luxury he can't afford. The torrid affair he gets entangled in challenges his convictions, nonetheless.

Ruslan Kent wants to get Snake into his papa's ring, and have a bit of fun on the side since the man seems up for it. At the same time, getting involved with guys like Johnny Brine is his way of caring for old wounds.

Both carry scars.

Both want to escape their past.

Both believe whatever happens between them can only be skin-deep.

And neither has any idea how much alike they truly are.

Disclaimer:

This story is completely fictional, including the setting. That said, everything taking place in this story has nothing to do with how real MMA fights, tournaments, and all that jazz are being carried in the real world. Yes, I know there's no Fighter Purse for amateurs, and that the moment someone gets paid to fight, they become a pro. That is one of the reasons not once the term MMA will be mentioned throughout my text. The purpose of this story is not to delve into that world, and everything, as I said, is completely fictional. A world without some of the known rules is simply the perfect backdrop for my characters and what is going to happen between them.

 

Chapter One I Always Win

He walked through the crowd of shouting men, focused on the task ahead. That was something he chose to ignore, every time - the stench of those places. It was a rubbery smell mixed with male sweat and the excitement rising for the bloody fight ahead. If he were to inhale too much, he was bound to get dizzy. Maybe overcome with rage.

In a way, he was doing this to himself, if he were to be fair. But Johnny Bryne was not precisely known to be fair, the least of all people to himself. That was maybe the reason why he was fighting these matches made in hell. Or perhaps he just loved to win against all the odds.

In the cage, he was the one in control. His opponents lacked something important, something they didn't know they needed. Some underwent grueling training; others tried to fix the matches in their favors.

But no one dared to approach him and offer him a bribe in exchange for dropping to the floor and pretending to be broken enough not to get up before the count was done. Seeing how rigged and unlawful these fights were, it was a wonder he was allowed to have his fun like that.

Maybe they could sense it, the darkness that walked with him. They were clever men. They knew not to bet a losing hand against a man with a loose screw. Because he always won and that was not going to change. Ever.

He jumped into the ring and followed through the motions of what was expected from someone like him. At least, no one could blame him of being unable to throw a good show. There was no fun for the audience to see a man sent to the floor with just one punch.

Legal fights were not like this. But he wasn't interested in walking the straight and narrow. He knew well on which side of the tracks he had been born.

Johnny Bryne had earned a proper nickname for himself. He knew how to dance around his prey, fooling the other into believing that there was an opening, only to dash the man's hopes in a quick, execution-style, move, not meant to take the opponent out just yet, but enough to make him aware of the simple fact that he could not win.

The announcer walked forward, grabbing the mike, and roaring the names of the opponents for the tonight match.

"Snake! Snake! Snake!" the audience chanted as they had done from the first moment he had walked through the door.

Johnny saluted, raising one gloved hand.

"You know the rules," the referee shouted at them, as he touched fists with his opponent.

"No hit below the belt, no hit when the opponent's down."

No shit, Johnny wanted to say back. Everyone was paying to see these fights because they were dirty, without rules. It wasn't even a sport. They wore gloves only because hand fractures took too long to heal, and no one wanted to risk a good fighter over a thing like that. It made some frustrated.

They weren't regular boxing gloves, either. That had become a rule when some thought themselves clever enough to push metal plates into the lining, and not even the bloodthirsty audience had found it funny when too many fighters began leaving the ring looking like not even their moms could love them anymore. Rigged matches were one thing. Cheating in the ring with dirty tactics like that was also sanctioned by the lowlifes attending the games, no matter how hell-bent on throwing their month's wages on a bet.

So hand wraps and simple, tight fitting, fingerless leather gloves were the only hand wear permitted. Johnny examined his opponent, as the audience continued to chant his name. No one was betting against him because they knew the outcome. But the bookies were resourceful people. They knew how to make people bet. On how long the Snake's opponent was going to last, or how many times the unfortunate victim was going to try to get up from the floor for yet another minute in the ring. Whether Snake was going to be sent to the floor at least once. Johnny didn't bother himself with details. The money was good, and that was all that mattered to him.

Tonight's opponent was a super heavyweight. Well, maybe they had the costs for a new ring floor covered because that guy was going to make a dent when Johnny was going to send him down a few times.

The bell ring caught him in a mid-air jump. The opponent's jowls trembled when Johnny sent his first punch straight into the guy's bovine-like face.

***

Ruslan was trying to get comfortably seated, but it appeared that ergonomics was not precisely the type of thing the organizers of this kind of event were known for. By all means, the entire audience seemed to prefer standing up to sitting. The collective roar from the men in the building was making the air crackle with electricity.

Ah, but this was something he terribly enjoyed. He could almost taste the testosterone exuded by the male bodies aroused with the promise of blood and victory. Maybe tonight he was going to grab some random guy and show him a good time. Although these weren't his usual hunting grounds, he hoped the guy he was going to choose was not going to hold it against him that he had a dick between his legs. He had his means to be persuasive, such as a lean body that looked good naked, a wicked tongue, and, when his pleasing physical appearance was not enough, a fat wad of bills usually did the trick. Usually. He was not the kind to fight losing battles.

But, of course, tonight was all about business, and he needed to focus. Maybe later, he was going to call Yanis, see if the guy was back in town, and summon him for a quick fuck since it wasn't exactly a good time to go cruising.

"Who is this Snake guy?" he leaned toward the other, as the audience was chanting around him a single syllable. He had to scream the words in the loud noise so that his companion could hear him.

"Our guy," the old man replied. "We must make him sign with us. Rumor has it he's unbeatable."

"Really?" Ruslan quirked an eyebrow. "How come we've never heard of him? And, more importantly, how come he's not already ours?"

"Apparently, he prefers to waste his time in this dump," the old man replied, pulling his coat closer to his body as if he didn't want to touch the worn seat too much.

Just like Ruslan, he could not seem to find a way to sit comfortably.

"No wonder he's unbeatable," Ruslan commented. "If all his adversaries are small-time thugs, it's no surprise that the cleverest of the bunch manages to get on top. That still doesn't qualify him for our attention. So, come on, spill it. What's the deal with him?"

"Just watch," the old man pointed with his chin toward the ring.

Ruslan took in the man already in the ring. The guy looked strong like a bull. He probably weighed well over 275 pounds, and, unfortunately for him, most of those pounds were lard, not muscles. The guy had cardiac arrest written all over him. But he did have a brute's attitude, the way he was hunching forward, and he was tall enough to be considered a giant in his own right. Most probably he was dominating his adversaries by being a moving mass of such magnitude that no one could stand in his way.

"I don't see why they would call him Snake," Ruslan thought out loud. "Is that an inside joke?"

"That's not Snake," the old man snorted. "That's Snake," he pointed at the second man making his way into the ring.

Ruslan leaned forward to stare at the other combatant for the tonight's match. Someone hurried to take the man's robe, and he jumped a few times up and down, flexing both arms in the process, and then raising one to salute the audience.

Unlike the first guy, this one was packing nothing but muscles. Ruslan had a trained eye. There was quite a critical weight difference between the two. This one probably weighted somewhere around 200 pounds or a bit less, but at his height, somewhere at 6.3, or 6.4, that was not a problem.

Definitely not a problem at all, Ruslan thought again, as he took in the man's strong, anatomically perfect muscles. He licked his lips. Their target was eliciting his interest all right. From the first row, where he was seated, Ruslan could see the man's face, although he would have liked to look a bit more closely.

Unlike his opponent's brutish appearance, this one deserved his nickname. There was grace in the way he moved, and Ruslan could almost feel a familiar prickle in his fingers to touch those perfect muscles, and another sensation, equally familiar, in his groin.

Hmm, there had been some time since he had felt stirred by merely looking at a guy. The man made a full round of the ring so that the crowd could see him and cheer him on a bit more. Funny thing, the guy didn't seem a poser. His tanned skin seemed marred of few fading scars, save for several long, angry-looking, scars on his back. He wasn't tattooed, like other practitioners of the so-called sport. Ruslan wondered; what kind of man was Snake?

The man's hair was shaved closely at the back of his head, but a few loose black strands in the front were almost getting into his eyes. With a casual, unstudied move, the man pushed the hair away from his forehead. His dark eyes, shadowed by thick, furrowed eyebrows, scanned the crowd one more time, and Ruslan, without being able to look at them properly, somehow knew they were filled with apprehension. Anyone could say all they wanted the man was relaxed, waiting to score another win on his personal board, but Ruslan saw something else.

The man's face was probably far from what could be considered a classic masculine beauty. His mouth was large, with firm, yet full lips, and it was clear his nose had been rearranged on his face a few times, at least, one of the consequences of too many battles. Yet, that didn't detract from the man's animal magnetism.

Ruslan sighed. If the old man was going to send him to negotiate with this guy, he wanted to get into the man's sports shorts. He only hoped the guy was at least a bit into men; with that kind of raw, fascinating masculinity, Snake didn't look like a guy who had trouble getting laid. Seeing that he was unbeatable, probably he had enough money, too. That was a tough call, Ruslan knew. He could convince a lot of horny guys to fuck him into oblivion, but usually, he picked men against which he could have a bit of leverage, be it his money or their horniness and inability to get a warm body to fuck somewhere else at that exact moment.

The referee barely blew his whistle, that Snake proved in a single powerful jump how he had come to get that nickname. Ruslan didn't wince when the opponent's fat cheeks trembled under the direct hit. He was enthralled.

***

Were they trying to insult him? This guy was so easy to hit that it was getting on his nerves. Maybe they had chosen the guy based on his endurance. By all means, any other opponent should have been on the floor, squirming in pain.

Hmm, maybe this was a new strategy, Johnny thought. To tire him out. He grinned, making the other man's pig-like eyes flash with an understanding that this fight was going to be lost. He probably looked like a maniac. He counted on that.

Maybe it was the right moment to fake one of his so-called suicide moves. He intentionally made a clumsy move, to leave his opponent a small opening. Was the mass of lard in front of him capable of understanding what was offered on a silver platter?

Apparently, on the third attempt, the opponent seemed to see the only chance he had for a moment of careless triumph. Johnny pretended to gasp for air like he was too tired already.

Bingo. The opponent finally moved and sent Johnny to the floor with a heavy kick. Great. It was the perfect opportunity to rest a little, indeed. This kind of game wasn't played in rounds. So, the combatants had to grab at any chance they had for a reprieve.

He remained on the floor, to make the fight a bit less boring than what it had been so far. Also, it was a good opportunity to steal a glance at the audience and gauge their level of interest.

His eyes fell on someone seated on the front row. Seated? While attending one of his matches? That wasn't a good sign. The man was inspecting him with keen eyes, and, for a second, he lost himself in seas of blue.

Wow, the man was a looker, Johnny thought. He was also apparently looking at him with unhidden interest. Somewhere, far away, he could hear the referee counting.

Well, there was enough time to indulge in admiring the male specimen in the front row. What was a guy so well dressed, in what looked like a designer suit, matched with a coat most probably from the same collection, in a dump like that?

The guy was a perfect blond, and Johnny had a perfect soft spot for blonds. Of all the tasty morsels he had had in his life, the blond variety had been his favorite. And the guy looked like royalty, with high cheekbones, perfect symmetric features, and deep blue eyes.

Johnny was dying to see more. The blue eyes blinked, and then the guy began showing him something. Johnny smirked when he understood that the guy was tapping his wrist, pointing at his watch. He winked and sent the guy a small kiss from the tip of his lips.

"Nine!" the referee's voice boomed.

The entire room was shouting at him, delirious. Johnny pushed himself up. Playtime was over. He didn't even need to look to realize where his opponent was. The asshole was already celebrating his victory against the unbeatable Snake.

"Hey!" he yelled. "I'm here!"

He opened his arms wide, fooling his opponent into another opening. When the guy began marching toward him like a battery ram, Johnny jumped and caught the man into the chin with a perfect roundhouse kick. The guy remained standing for two seconds, making everyone in the room hold their breath. The silence broke when the man hit the floor like a sack of potatoes. The audience exploded. And this time, the guy remained there until the referee finished counting.

Johnny turned around, searching for the pretty man in the front row. But the guy was not paying him any attention at the moment. Instead, he seemed to lend his ear to another guy next to him, some old dude dressed up to snuff just like him.

Ah, damn. Rich man's toy boy. He should have known better. Well, he wasn't one to cry over spilled milk. He was going to find a warm and willing body tonight that he could fuck until he could feel his legs no more while thinking of the perfect blond in the front row.

The couple didn't look interested in other fights, as, when Johnny looked again, in the hope of catching another glimpse of that delicious man, they were already gone.

***

"I'm leaving this to you," the old man put on his gloves, and looked around with scrutinizing eyes.

"Sure thing. I have this one in the bag," Ruslan smiled.

It was his lucky night all right. The guy had blown a kiss at him and winked, so, in the universal language of flirting, that meant that he was interested in Ruslan. This was going to be both easy and pleasant. Seeing that he typically hated complications, things were going just as he wanted.

"Russy," the old man patted his arm to draw his attention. "Snake deserves his nickname. He's sly and slippery. Plus, he doesn't like being owned. So, be careful, okay?"

"Sure thing, papa," Ruslan leaned to kiss the man's cheek.

"I mean it," the old man added, caressing Ruslan's hair with affection. "Play safe."

Ruslan smiled. The old man had nothing to worry about. By the look in those dark eyes, Snake was probably hungry, and also in the mood to celebrate his victory, without a doubt. Ruslan just had the perfect tasty morsel to lure him in and then score the deal. Plus, this was going to be pleasant.

***

One thing about being the star of that dump was that he had a room with a shower, all his own. The short cold shower he took had calmed some of the battle rage and frustrated arousal over the pretty toy boy from earlier, but he still needed to go out and cruise for a piece of ass.

He stopped in the door of the bathroom, as he noticed there was someone in his room, seemingly fascinated with the displayed photos on the small bookshelf. So the owner of that dump had thought about letting the visitor in. That meant the guy was important enough to warrant such a thing. Usually, Johnny wasn't crazy about visitors. He had nothing worth stealing, either. Not there, in that dingy room, anyway.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked roughly.

The visitor turned around, and Johnny made eye contact with the good-looking man from before.

"Are you lost, blue eyes?" he drawled and leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

He was only wearing a towel around his waist, and he was still wet from the shower. The visitor was eyeing him with interest. Excellent. Maybe he still had a chance with Mr. luxury toy.

"Care to share a shower with me?" he added, seeing that the man was too busy devouring him head to toes with his eyes to speak.

That seemed to bring the guy back to reality.

"A shower? It looks like you just had one."

"Well, I don't mean now. Later, after I'm done making you scream my name at least a dozen times," Johnny began walking toward his different kind of prey for the night.

The man laughed.

"Snake, right? Smooth, man, smooth, what can I say?" the guy shook his head. "Actually, I'm here to offer you a deal."

"A deal?" Johnny frowned.

"It's a fantastic deal," the blond began jabbering. "You fight for us; we pay you royally."

"Who is we?" Johnny asked roughly, all thoughts of getting busy between the sheets with the man in front of him gone from his mind.

"Efige. We run the casinos on the west side of the river. We also offer a wide array of entertainment ..."

"No deal," Johnny said brusquely. "And since when is Efige getting into this kind of dirty business? You know what? I don't need to know. See yourself to the door."

The visitor opened his mouth, hesitated for a second, then his beautiful lips stretched into a wide smile.

"I can make it worth your while," the man batted his eyelashes, cocking his head to the side.

"You guys have nothing I want," Johnny replied harshly, now bent on getting close to the guy just so that he could throw him out the door.

"Not we. I," the man pointed at himself, "want to offer you something extra."

"Like what?" Johnny questioned, looking the man into his deep blue eyes.

From up close, the guy looked even more delicious. He smelled great, of expensive cologne, but also of something else that must have been his natural scent. Johnny dug his nails into his palms. He wasn't getting swayed so quickly now, was he?

"A blowjob," the man smiled and spoke casually, "from yours truly."

Johnny leaned in, now so close that his mouth was just inches away from the other's perfect lips. The guy was just a bit shorter, and, most probably, lean under that long coat. Just the right size, Johnny thought. Just how he liked his men.

"Nah," he shook his head, and leaned in more, making the guy force his head back, to keep eye contact. "Aren't you that man's toy boy?"

"What man?" the guy blinked in confusion.

"The old dude buying you these nice clothes and the expensive cologne," Johnny said.

"Ha, ha," the man laughed. "You could not be further from the truth. Now, that you know I'm not a toy boy, would you like that blowjob or not?"

"Add your skinny ass to that offer, and I might consider it," Johnny grabbed the man by the waist and pulled him close.

"Skinny ass?" the man seemed revolted by that commentary, and not by the indecent proposal.

"You seem a bit underfed," Johnny felt the man's slender waist with both hands.

"I can assure you I'm not," the man said crossly. "Now, now, play nice, I mean it about that blowjob. Let's sit on the bed. I wouldn't want to give you the satisfaction of kneeling in front of you just yet. There will be time for that later after you win a few matches for us."

Johnny had to give it to the guy. He was sure of himself. Also, he knew how to push buttons, speaking so casually about blowing a prospective employee.

"Is this how you treat everyone at the Efige kennels? I guess I understand now why they all act like they found God and joined some cult once they start working for you. They're all crazy for your sweet mouth and skinny ass."

"Again with that," the man rolled his eyes, but didn't push Johnny away, and he didn't seem insulted, either. "And I can assure you I am selective in my dealings. Only the ones who do an outstanding job receive special attention from me," he added with a small chuckle as if he had just said a joke.

"That's good motivation, Mr. boss," Johnny grinned. "I assume you're some kind of boss, right?"

"Some kind, yeah," the other replied, his lips twitching in amusement. "So, are you ready to take me up on my offer?"

"Oh, I sure am ready to take you," Johnny grinned, and without one second thought, he leaned in and kissed his visitor.

The guy seemed surprised for a second, but he relaxed and opened his mouth, not too much, to be considered an easy victory, but enough to allow Johnny to have a taste. Oh, yes, the man tasted good, so good that Johnny instantly wondered how other parts of the man would taste like. And he also knew how to be a little tease. The best kind.

It seemed that the guy liked to play around, because, after the initial surrender, he closed his mouth and pushed Johnny away firmly.

"Do we have a deal?"

"I told you. I'll consider it if your skinny ass is on the table."

This time, the guy pushed him away for real. With precise moves, a bit brusque, he took out his coat.

"Hold this for me?" he asked.

With a grin, Johnny took the guy's coat and then unceremoniously threw it toward an undefined direction, directly on the floor. The guy's beautiful eyes flickered with a tinge of annoyance, and he huffed, but Johnny could tell he was not put off by that. Instead of saying anything, the man took out the jacket of his three-piece suit and this time, placed the garment on the back of the single chair in the room.

"Now," the visitor said, "take a look at this and say `skinny' one more time."

Johnny watched as the guy turned and put both hands on his ass. All right, so he wasn't skinny, and his ass filled the designer pants nicely. His ass was pert and firm, by what anyone looking could tell. But Johnny was now in the mood to play.

"I don't know, man. You might have some padding or something underneath those pants."

The man looked over his shoulder, and this time, Johnny knew the guy was well aware that he was being played. The question stood: was he willing to play along?

"Just look at what you make me do," the man said, as he began unbuckling his belt.

Oh, this was going to be good, Johnny thought, as he got rid of the towel he was wearing and began touching his cock. The guy pushed the pants and briefs right down and held his crisp white shirt with one hand so that Johnny could get a good look at his ass.

"Do you see now?" the visitor asked.

"I sure do," Johnny got closer and placed one hand on a pert buttock, kneading it.

"Did I give you permission to do that?" the man huffed in annoyance.

"Well, you're the one who wants something from me," Johnny grabbed the guy by the waist with the other hand.

It was damn nice to fondle that firm ass. By all means, the man was enjoying the attention, as he bit his bottom lip and threw Johnny a look full of dirty promises.

"Now, I know a few things about asses," Johnny spoke, "so I must test something else. Look at what you make me do," he mimicked the guy's words from earlier, as he let go of the man's ass, only to push the middle finger into his mouth and give it a good lick.

The guy was now looking at him with hooded eyes, and his breath was growing deeper. With all the act, one would have thought the visitor to be the master of making things happen his way. However, it was clear as day that the man was fascinated with everything Johnny did.

He didn't protest in the slightest when Johnny pushed his wet finger through the tight ring of his backdoor. He only hissed and closed his eyes, and Johnny took his finger out to add more spit.

Johnny wanted the man panting and begging to be fucked, so he was willing to take longer than usual with the preparations. Plus, this was a prissy prince from the good side of the tracks lost in the woods and now face to face with the big bad wolf. So, the guy deserved all the attention and patience Johnny was capable of.

"Hmm, I wonder," he whispered and bit one of the guy's ears playfully. "You talk big, but the reason you're only offering blowjobs is that your backdoor is tiny, right?"

"Oh, please," the man moaned shamelessly, as Johnny continued to finger him unhurriedly. "I get fucked plenty."

"I don't believe you," Johnny used his other hand to unbutton the guy's vest, then shirt, so he could feel the guy's chest, too.

By the small gasp he heard, Johnny was sure he was dealing with a guy who liked fucking. Anywhere he touched, the guy reacted. It was like his whole body was sensitive.

"Well, I have a reputation," the guy turned his head slightly so he could face Johnny, "to be not that easy to satisfy."

"Oh, really? I barely touched you, and you're ready," Johnny grinned.

This pretty man was so full of it.

"Oh, I'm no cold fish, I can assure you," the guy smiled. "But many leave my bed satisfied, while they leave me, well, partially satisfied, at best."

"You sure know how to make a man interested," Johnny pinched one of the guy's nipples and turned the finger inside the man's ass into a hook. "So, does it take you ages to come or something?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," the guy whispered.

Oh, sure thing he wanted to know, now more than anything, Johnny thought and released the man, only to make him walk to the bed. He pushed his visitor on his fours, the pants still wrapped around his thighs. Johnny decided he was going to start with an appetizer, so he knelt behind the guy and placed his hands on the round buttocks to part them and take a good look at what they hid so well.

Hmm, just the kind he liked best, perfectly smooth, tight and of a pale pink that was making his mouth water. First, he attacked the tight opening with his tongue, pushing hard inside, so that the man could feel how serious he was about this. The man's breathing was now becoming labored, peppered prettily with small moans and gasps. Johnny decided that it was not fair to neglect other body parts that were now begging for attention. So he dropped lower, making small circles on the guy's taint with his tongue, slowly reaching the guy's hairless balls, which he took in his mouth, one, then the other, making sure to lavish them with the attention they deserved.

"Oh, fuck, would you hurry already?" the man demanded.

"Hurry where?" Johnny asked.

"To fuck me," the guy replied, obviously aroused and a bit frustrated.

"Hmm, maybe if you ask for it nicely? Say it. Please, Snake, fuck me good, with the cherry on top."

"You can't be serious," the man whispered.

"I'm dead serious. C'mon, what's a little begging, when you're this hard?" Johnny laughed, and grabbed the guy's cock in one quick move, and made it bounce by letting it go abruptly.

The guy was average in that respect, but it was just like Johnny liked his men, especially those lean and so willing to bottom. At the same time, the man's cock was hard as steel, and weeping helplessly, which told Johnny plenty of how much the guy wanted it.

"Okay," the man huffed. "Please."

"Oh, what was that?" Johnny pretended to have trouble hearing the other.

"Please fuck me, Snake. Don't make me say that other bull crap."

"Good enough," Johnny swatted the guy's ass playfully. "Just wait for me to get the rubber."

***

Ruslan could not believe the nerve on the guy, but he was willing to let him have his fun. After all, he was going to walk out of that small room with a gentlemen's agreement and, if he was lucky, and Snake was just as handy with his cock, as well as with his tongue, also with a well fucked behind.

He arched his ass to allow Snake to penetrate him with lubed fingers and sighed in contentment. He had expected a guy like Snake to be rough and impatient in bed, but so far, the guy had been the embodiment of a master of seduction. His rimming technique was at least on par with his ability to send his opponents to the floor in the ring.

"Ready for me?" he heard Snake asking.

The guy could play cool all he wanted, but his voice was strained right now.

"Hurry and do it," Ruslan said over his shoulder.

"Don't mind me if I do, pretty," the other's chuckle was low and dangerous.

Ruslan gasped and grabbed the sheets with needy fingers, as he felt the guy moving and going straight for the kill. Great thing that the guy had taken his time with the preparations because he was definitely big. Well, size wasn't everything. Snake moved behind him and drove back into Ruslan's ass with every bit of intention to prove his point.

"Motherfucker," Ruslan protested, but he was pretty sure his voice sounded pleading at this point.

"All good?" Snake laughed and repeated his move, making Ruslan shake with all his body.

This announced to be good. Better to make the best of the situation; Ruslan hurried to grab his cock and began to rub it. His moves had a desperate quality to them, mostly because Ruslan had had his fair share of unskilled lovers in the past. Many were too excited to last long, those who did last tended to be a bore and knew only one way of fucking, like sort of a rut, not to mention the egoists who thought their pleasure was all that mattered.

And none had ever seemed to give him what he truly wanted.

Of course, there was a solid exception to the rule, as were a very few lucky encounters. But Yanis, the only guy who knew how to take care of Ruslan's appetite, had a woman at home to satisfy, and, as much as Ruslan wanted to think Yanis still liked his friend's ass more, he was well aware that he was losing that competition.

Now Snake was going to be categorized and placed neatly in the league that he was most deserving of, as far as Ruslan's sex escapades went. The beginning had been more than promising. The way the guy was grabbing and ramming into him was above average, too.

Still, he needed to be fast, and get at least one orgasm out of this. There was always the novelty factor to enjoy, as much as the guy's attitude that had made Ruslan's inner pervert and sucker for being put down a little, quiver with excitement.

"Damn fine ass," Snake praised him. "I wouldn't trade it for all the blowjobs in the world."

"Thanks," Ruslan threw over his shoulder. "Now don't come too fast," he demanded, as he continued to rub his cock.

"Are you kidding me?" Snake laughed. "I always take my time to enjoy a fine piece of ass like this one right here."

Snake's thumbs dug deep into the dimples above Ruslan's buttocks, kneading. The guy was doing a good job of keeping his partner in place, and Ruslan enjoyed feeling the guy's strength, and willingness to dominate and use.

The fighter moved fluidly now, his thrusts well timed, sending wave after wave of pleasure up Ruslan's spine. Seeing that the guy was good at what he was doing, Ruslan would have liked to last a little more, but, burying his face into the sheets, he began coming, voicing his pleasure in a low soft moan.

The ripples of release shook his body and made him slack.

"Wow, you came?" Snake asked, slowing down. "I knew you were talking shit."

"One time is never enough," Ruslan mumbled, still too wrecked with his climax to protest too much.

"All right then, challenge accepted," Snake said joyously. "Let's see how many rounds you last."

By all means, that should have sounded boastful and entirely void of substance, but Snake's cock was pulsing inside his ass, so Ruslan didn't need another proof of the man's promised prowess. The guy was also moving very slowly now, his cock halfway out, giving Ruslan time to recover.

"Good to go again?" Snake asked.

"Get your rocks off," Ruslan replied, arching his ass, to let the other know, through body language, that he was more than ready for deep penetration once more.

"Gladly," Snake said, and Ruslan could say that the man was damn sure of his resilience. "So, am I the biggest you've ever had?"

"Not sure," Ruslan said lightly but chocked on his words as he could feel the man driving that thick spear down to the hilt into his ass. "But I'm certain I've had no one with an ego this big."

"I'll take that," Snake chuckled. "Now let's see how you do."

Ruslan would have had something to say, given that verbal sparring was something he enjoyed, but the man was now working his ass with languorous moves, knowing when and how to angle his cock to brush over Ruslan's most sensitive spot.

"Oh, fuck, yes, right there," Ruslan moaned.

"I'm on it," the other confirmed and continued to apply his skillful technique.

Ruslan was quick to recover, and the constant stimulation to his inner pleasure bud was making his arousal soar once more.

"Yes, yes, yes," he chanted, as he moved his ass to meet the other's thrusts.

"Faster, now?" Snaked asked.

Ruslan confirmed with a loud moan instead of words. He was sure he was rubbing his cock raw, but this was way too good to pass. Snake knew how to fuck. And Ruslan had a lot of appreciation for guys who were good at that. With a bit of luck, maybe Snake was willing to repeat the experience after tonight's rendezvous.

He had no time for making plans at the moment, though, as both his body and mind started to get flooded with endorphins, and the second orgasm shot through him, most probably making a mess on the guy's sheets.

"Two?" Snake asked, reducing his pace again.

"Yeah," Ruslan breathed out.

"Nice," Snake said with satisfied pride. "Now turn," he urged Ruslan, while he withdrew. "I need to see the third one to believe it."

Ruslan was not exactly a fan of the position that involved him on his back, as the doggy style was the only guaranteed to work without fail for him. But seeing that he had already come twice, he was willing to acquiesce to the demand.

He was pulled roughly toward the edge of the bed, and he winced at the thought that all the sperm he had sprayed on the sheets was probably going to leave some hard to explain spots on his waistcoat and shirt, which he still had on. Who was he kidding? He was going to be a mess anyway. Snake was quick to undress the bottom part of his body, and Ruslan took a moment to admire the guy. He definitely looked in top shape. Ruslan was going to drag this one to the Efige's rings if need be. His eyes fell lower, and he smirked. The guy had, indeed, a nice big cock, too. Wrapped in the thin latex foil of the condom at the moment, but big and ready for action.

"Oh, wow," he managed as Snake pulled his hips off the bed, and practically dragged his ass into the said cock.

Snake was looking straight at him, and his dark eyes made Ruslan shiver.

"You're using me," Ruslan said with a small smile. "Like a fuck toy."

The dark eyes became darker.

"Says the guy who just came twice. And I know your type. You love being used."

Ruslan turned his head slightly. Of course. Snake must have had plenty of bed partners. Nothing surprising there.

Your type. Ruslan knew his type well enough. To some degree, he knew he was twisted inside. He wasn't doing relationships for that matter. Yanis and casual encounters were sufficient for him.

He allowed the guy to take him, making his body slack and turning off his sensations. Or at least trying to. He closed his eyes tightly and sensed the guy stop.

There was no time to protest as rough hands caught him, one cradling his head, the other busy to turn his chin, as equally rough lips closed over his. The rocking of the bed resumed, as did the ramming of a stiff hot rod into Ruslan's ass.

The tongue in his mouth was firm and determined. Ruslan thought it would have been better not to moan like the slut he was while being handled like that, but it was too damn good. And he didn't care anyway.

"I like your type the best," Snake said, as he let go of Ruslan's mouth.

The dark eyes were honest, and Ruslan smiled. This guy was a keeper.

"Let's see about that third time, shall we?" Snake cooed, and Ruslan was happy to nod.

He didn't have to do anything, either. Snake was quick to wrap one of his hands around Ruslan's cock. The guy was skilled in more ways than one. His hand was calloused, but the way Snake moved it, making sure that Ruslan was getting impossibly hard again, was everything to write home about.

He resumed his moans, using his free hands to pinch and pull at his nipples.

"Man, you're so freaking hot," Snake praised him. "Now let me hear you call my name."

He could barely keep his eyes open, and he could feel them moist from too much stimulation. At least, he hoped Snake understood that his bed partner was glaring at him.

"C'mon, it can't be that hard," Snake reduced the rhythm on both his hand and the movement of his hips. "Say it."

Ruslan licked his lips. This sounded a bit silly, but, well, the guy was giving him a good fuck to last him for a few days, at least, so he could act a bit silly for the man's sake.

"Snake," he whispered.

Even to his ears, that sounded ... sexy. His voice was low, ragged, filled with the expectation of the third orgasm.

"More," the man began to speed up again.

"Snake," Ruslan moaned.

It was kind of strange, but hearing himself like that was making him feel the arousal growing higher. Soon enough, he was chanting the guy's name, just like the audience at the ring.

"And here comes your third reward," Snake joked and moved faster.

Ruslan felt delirious, as he was moving his head to hide his face, voicing his climax once more.

"No way," Snake reached for him and turned his face so they could stare at each other. "Tell me who's ever screwed you the best."

Snake grabbed Ruslan's jaw and caressed his bottom lip with one rough thumb.

"You," Ruslan admitted, and the next second, he felt his eyes rolling in his head, as the hand on his cock brought him to completion.

***

The pretty man was quick to respond to stimulation, Johnny thought with satisfaction. But now that he had gotten the guy where he wanted, it was time to focus a little on himself. So he let the guy's head drop back on the sheets, and he began to pump his cock into the guy's ass with renewed strength. Nothing made him hornier than seeing his partner come first.

The guy was a beautiful mess, sprawled on the bed, his smooth chest and abs covered in sweat and cum, his nipples erect and a bit darker than before from too much abuse exerted by no other than their owner, his lips moist, and almost bitten through, and his face shining with happiness in the aftermath.

That was the best thing for him. Nothing else mattered. He could feel his cock twitching, growing harder, to the point that the rubber was probably going to pop. He withdrew hurriedly and took out the condom in one fell swoop.

Grabbing his cock, he directed the white stream to the guy's balls, still pulled and tight after the last release. That was also something he liked. To come all over the other guy's cock and balls.

He growled as he pushed his cock and body to the limit and squeezed down to the last drop. With a long, satisfied groan, he rubbed his cock against the guy's balls, spreading his jizz all over.

"Oh-ho," he shouted, feeling even more victorious that moment than earlier in the ring.

He dropped on the bed, next to the guy, and looked at the closed eyelids, took in the way the guy was breathing.

"So, ever had anyone make you come three times?" he asked.

The man opened his eyes and stared at him.

"Yeah," he replied.

Hmm, and Johnny thought that he had just set a personal record for the pretty man.

"What about four times?" he questioned, now the satisfaction over his performance waning a little.

"Yes," the guy said again.

Johnny frowned.

"All right, now you're just pulling my leg. I'm talking about the times you came in the same round, not a whole week."

"I know what you mean," the guy smiled. "And I'm telling the truth."

Johnny grimaced.

"Four times, huh? Now that's a man I'd like to meet. Or how many guys are we talking about here?"

"One," the other replied. "And to save you from tormenting yourself more than it's necessary, four is the record. And it only happened twice."

"Still," Johnny said, a bit miffed. "It's clear. We need to fuck again," he threw one arm over the guy's body.

"Oh, not tonight. I still have a business to run," the man said, although he made no move to push Johnny's hand away. "But, of course, now that you're signing with Efige, we'll see plenty of each other."

Johnny removed his hand on his own volition.

"I'm not signing anything."

"What?" the guy pushed himself up on his elbows. "Didn't you give your word or something?"

"I remember clearly that I said that I would consider it," Johnny said with a small grin.

The pretty man pushed himself up on his ass.

"And? Did you consider it? I doubt you had time for that," he said, and by all means, he seemed pissed.

"Oh, I had plenty. Sorry, your ass is gorgeous, and you're sexy as fuck, but no's still no."

"Fuck," the guy looked down, his shoulders hunched. "What a fucking waste of time," he added, but he seemed to be speaking to himself now.

"What can I tell you, man? You can put a leash on a dog, but you can't collar a snake," Johnny said. "And, really, a waste of time? You look like you enjoyed yourself. Three times, man," he emphasized his words by showing the guy three fingers, his pinkie curled underneath the thumb.

"Ah, well," the guy shrugged and pushed himself up to his feet and began fishing his clothes from the floor, completely ignoring Johnny now.

Hmm, so the guy was earnest about him signing. Johnny hadn't even thought about it, because that was what he did; he never signed with anyone. He was no one's monkey or lap dog. And he had hoped the pretty man had just used that as an excuse to get his rocks off and enjoy Johnny's horizontal sparring techniques.

"Hey, what's your name?" he asked, realizing that he didn't know how the sexy man was called.

"Suck my dick," the guy flipped the bird at him and grabbed his coat from the floor.

"Next time, I will," Johnny promised, as he stood up from the bed.

He caught the guy with the hand on the door handle. The man now reeked of sweat and sex, and that was almost making Johnny feel his spent cock stir again. He placed one hand over the other's and pushed down the handle, but used that small distraction to turn the guy's head and kiss him again.

"You know where to find me if you want to get fucked good again," he said with a smirk.

The guy still looked pissed, but there was the ghost of a smile right there, on his lips, as he walked away, and Johnny ceremoniously held the door.

TBC

Author's note:

If you like this story and you want to support me while writing it, here is my Patreon account:

https://www.patreon.com/laurasfox

My patrons receive early access to chapters, complete books, and other nice extras.

The latest book I'm offering all my patrons is this:

The Worst Kind Of Hero

Summary:

Ramon knows what he wants, and that is to have one heated encounter with a certain beautiful male celebrity who wouldn't give two cents on someone like him. The good news is that sometimes, dreams do come true, even when you're just a piece of street trash.

Lennart has no idea why he lets someone like Ramon get into his car and have wild sex with him. It may be just boredom, or the guy's brazen attitude just gets to him somehow.

It all looks like nothing but a quick hook-up with no follow-up. That until they meet again. And then?

Then they hit the ground running, with paid assassins on their tails.