Summary:
Tate Mackenzie has signed on for a weekend of kinky fun at the hands of respected Dom, James Lucas. However, James has invited another man, twenty-four year-old Sebastian Doucette, to join in. Thrown together under James’ expert tutelage, the two men experience an instant attraction and begin a tentative relationship on their own time. But James hasn't been entirely honest with the boys and soon Tate finds himself the focus of two infatuated men. How will he choose the man he wants or the lifestyle he desires to pursue?
Summary:
Tate and Sebastian are having trouble maintaining a successful monogamous relationship. When trust is betrayed and old friends reappear, the men are faced with the challenge of making things work or changing the way they will be together. Nobody ever said relationships were easy, and when sexy Dom James Lucas swoops in at the right time, things get even more complicated. Or do they? Do gay men have to tow the traditional line, or is there room for a new definition of true love?
Summary:
It's been five years since James, Tate and Sebastian moved in together to enjoy a three-way BDSM relationship and James is turning fifty. After enjoying a surprise party and thoughtful gift, the health crisis of a close friend necessitates a trip to Montreal, followed by a snowy Christmas getaway in Mont Tremblant. Soon, an unexpected event challenges the dynamics of the relationship. Will the sudden appearance of family members, old friends, and new acquaintances cause insurmountable problems or present an opportunity to demonstrate the real meaning of togetherness?
Beyond the Edge #1
I didn't get out of there until five thirty, so barely had time to get home, grab a quick bite, shower, dress and make it to James' place for the designated hour. Luckily, I pulled into his driveway with ten minutes to spare. James did not look kindly upon tardiness and I didn't want to start off on the wrong foot. Not a good idea to piss off your Dom before a weekend of voluntary submission.
I got out of my little red Civic and approached the house, straightening my jacket and brushing mostly imaginary dust and dirt off my jeans. I had dressed casual sexy, not wanting to give the impression that I thought this a huge occasion-even though I actually did. I had waited months for this weekend, and it was almost upon me. To say I was excited would be a serious understatement.
I rang the bell and after a few moments the door opened. James Lucas stood there, in the flesh. In the absolutely gorgeous, dick-hardening, heartbeat-quickening flesh.
"Hello, Tate."
My eyes raked over him, taking in his handsome face with the slightly graying goatee, intelligent brown eyes, and those soft, curved lips that formed themselves into a welcoming smile. He tilted his shaved head slightly, conveying a sexy confidence and faith in his own intrinsic attractiveness. The man had presence.
"Hello, Sir." I murmured, my pulse increasing rapidly as I took in his muscular form clothed in black jeans and a burgundy long sleeved t-shirt, the dark red cotton of which outlined his muscular arms and chest.
"Come in, come in," he said, moving back to give me some space to enter. His face, hard and soft in all the right places, held enough slight wrinkles and creases to make it interesting and give an indeterminate quality to his exact age.
I did so, careful not to touch him before he'd given me permission. I knew the protocol now, and wanted to show him that I remembered.
I remembered everything.
"Here, I'll take your coat," he said, holding out his broad, beautifully masculine hand. I noticed how long and elegant his fingers were as I peeled off my brown leather jacket and handed it to him, our eyes meeting for a moment. The message in his went straight to my groin and I felt my dick start to react. Jesus, what he did to me.
"Come into the living room, please." He gestured towards the large room to the left of the hall. His voice sounded a warm tenor-melodious and smooth.
I preceded him into the room, hoping that he checked me out in my carefully chosen jeans and black Sex Pistols t-shirt. I'd found the latter at Value Village a few weeks ago and knew it would be the perfect club shirt, not to mention the perfect "meeting your Dom before playtime" shirt. Nothing beat retro punk wear, in my opinion.
I stood nervously beside the sofa, awaiting further instruction.
"Have a seat, Tate. And you can relax. We're meeting as equals here to discuss the weekend. You don't have to take on the sub role quite yet. When you arrive here next Friday, the situation will be different. But for now, we're just friends discussing an upcoming event."
I nodded. "Okay." I sat down on the couch and tried to relax.
"Would you like something to drink?" he asked as he poured himself some Jack Daniel's. "You know I don't permit any alcohol for my subs, but we're not quite there yet. If you'd like something, you're welcome to it."
I shook my head. "I'd better not. I have to drive home." I wasn't exactly sure how long our meeting would last.
He regarded me with a little smile. "I thought perhaps, after we discuss the technicalities, I could reintroduce you to my loft for a short session." His intelligent eyes conveyed lust and desire and mischief. "If you like."
Struck speechless for a moment, I wondered how to tell him that I wasn't really prepared.
As if reading my mind, he asked, "Did you shower before coming here?"
I nodded. "Yeah, but I didn't...prepare...in any other way." I knew that James liked his subs absolutely clean, inside and out, before they went into the loft.
He laughed. "Don't worry about that. We won't get that far today." He sat down across from me in the armchair and sipped his drink. "I usually don't drink before a session. But this will be a casual one, and I'm only having a bit. Are you interested? Or would you rather just wait until next weekend? It's entirely your choice, Tate. There's no wrong answer." He leaned forward. "Just tell me what you want."
I cleared my throat. "I want to go to the loft...tonight...when we're done here."
He nodded. "Great. Well, let's get to it then, shall we? How old are you? I've forgotten."
"I just turned twenty-seven," I said. "Last week."
He smiled. "Happy Birthday."
"Thanks."
He brought out the contract he'd prepared. We went through it page by page, discussing my hard and soft limits, goals, fears, strengths and weaknesses. We spoke about the safe words and hand signals I would use and that there would be no punishment for safe-wording. It simply meant the session would end immediately. There was no reason it couldn't be resumed soon after, if mutually agreed upon.
It didn't take that long. By the time we finished, my arousal level had gone from Code Orange to Code Red. This matter-of-fact discussion of the intimate details of various Dom/sub scenarios, implements of pleasure and torture, and ways of using them, proved very effective. Thank goodness he had suggested a short session, because if he hadn't, I'd have had to drive home with an aching, leaking cock in my pants. I'd need to be careful though, and follow his instructions. Because I knew it would amuse him to send me home in this state, or a worse one, if I didn't please him. Even though he'd said this would be a casual session, we'd still be playing as Dom and sub, and I knew exactly what that meant.
"Well, I think that's everything." He had me sign in a few places and then put the papers into a large manila envelope. "I'm just going to put these away. Why don't you meet me upstairs? Keep your clothes on but take your shoes and socks off. You don't have to kneel on the floor but I'd like you standing next to the spanking bench."
I gulped as my dick throbbed in anticipation. "Sure."
He left the room. I took off my shoes and socks and put them near my jacket in the hall. Then I padded quietly up the circular stairs to the second floor, down the hall past the guest bathroom, and up one more flight until I reached the familiar double doors. I tried the handles. They were unlocked so I pushed the doors open and entered James' converted attic room.
Not the typical dungeon that you would expect-dark and dimly lit and filled with frightening implements. The airy space gave forth a different vibe. The two uncovered windows looked out from the second floor room onto open fields at the back. Natural light shone in through a skylight in the middle of the ceiling, illuminating everything.
I knew James' tastes. If he wanted to place someone in darkness he would blindfold them. But he wanted to see everything. He wanted to see the sunlight glinting off the sweaty skin of his sub, to see it glancing off the steel of the cage on his sub's straining cock. He wanted to see the sparkle on a dewdrop of moisture leaking from his sub's captured penis. He'd told me that he found all of it beautiful.
Instead of a massive four-poster bed, like I'd read about in fictional playrooms, a simple, sturdy bed frame and mattress stood against one wall. Bigger than king size and covered with expensive looking sheets, it became a focal point, but didn't overshadow the rest of the room. There were obvious places to attach wrist cuffs or ankle cuffs, and even some eye hooks on the wall above the head of the bed.
A mesh swing device hung from the ceiling to the left of the mattress. It looked mighty comfy, made from soft ropes and hung like a hammock. But I knew the torture that could be dealt out there-teasing and toying that had you screaming in frustration before he'd let you come. It frightened and excited me at the same time.
On the wall to the right of the mattress stood the typical St. Andrew's Cross. Painted dark brown to stand out against the sand-colored walls, it looked quite modern and high tech. There were eye hooks everywhere, it seemed, so that a person could be attached to the cross in all sorts of different ways. There was even a spot that would hold a dildo in place so a person could be restrained and impaled at the same time.
Against the far wall stood a couple of bondage benches, and a kneeler that could be pulled out and used when needed. Above these hung floggers, paddles and crops of varying sizes and materials.
In the very centre of the room, where I knew he'd probably positioned it before I arrived, stood the spanking bench.
I walked over to it, admiring its simplicity and workmanship. Made of solid oak, with leather pads where the sub's knees and ankles would be positioned, it looked like a strange upside-down chair. There were four stand-alone supports, one for each knee and forearm. All the supports were fitted with bindings to secure the sub in place.
I glanced over at James' selection of crops and paddles, then back at the spanking bench. I had listed being spanked as one of my favorite things to do in the loft, and I wasn't lying. For some reason, an older, sexy, dominant guy whacking my ass with a crop or a flogger or a paddle sent me to the moon.
I stood staring at the bench, imagining James' practiced strikes until my cock grew so hard I thought it might rip through my jeans. Then I heard his footsteps on the stairs. My knees went weak. It would have been easier to kneel, but I stood beside the spanking bench with my eyes on the floor as I heard the doors open.
James entered.
I heard him chuckle softly. "Oh, yes. You look wonderful standing there, waiting for me," he said huskily, and I felt my cock throb. He closed the doors and locked them, then came closer. I saw his bare feet and the bottom of his black jeans. He took my chin in his hand, tilting my face up so I could look him in the eyes.
"I thought a nice spanking might be a good place to start with you." His brown eyes had darkened to almost black.
They delved into mine, seeking out the most secret parts of my soul, as I sighed and said, "Yes, Sir."
I expected him to tell me to strip, but instead he told me to get up on the bench. I wondered if he would keep me clothed today. I really didn't know what to expect.
Once I got up there and he'd bound my calves and forearms, I felt his hands on the fly of my jeans. I moaned, that light touch from his fingers already driving me mad.
"Easy, boy...we haven't even started yet." I sensed a smile in his voice.
He unzipped me and grabbed the waist of my jeans and black boxer briefs, pulling everything down past my hips. Since my legs splayed out a bit, he couldn't get them any farther down. For some reason, this made me feel more vulnerable than if I'd been completely naked. I struggled in my bonds and glanced back desperately.
James saw me and gave me a stern look. "Eyes forward, Tate. You know the rules."
I did as directed, trying to calm my breathing as I felt his large hand caress my right buttock.
He tsked. "Looks like you need some work before next weekend. I like my boys smoother than this. But it will do for now..."
Oh Christ. I'd forgotten about James' predilection for smoothly shaven men. It had been awhile since I'd been for a waxing. I blushed with shame and embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, Sir," I murmured.
"It's okay. This was an unplanned session."
"Yes, Sir."
Suddenly his hand disappeared. Then I felt it come down on my ass cheek, hard. He spanked me three times, in the same spot. I groaned. It was so long since I'd had this...
"You like that, don't you?" he said softly, caressing the other buttock and then landing three successive slaps to that side.
I moaned as my ass swayed from side to side with the joy of it. Suddenly, I felt his warm hand on my cock. I cried out in surprise and at the wonderful feel of it.
"Oh, yes. You do like that. Very much, eh?" His voice came silky and soft from his throat, as if he were trying to seduce me, when he already had me very much at his mercy.
"Yes, Sir."
"Tell me." A harder edge crept into his voice now, which I loved.
"I like it," I said.
"Be specific."
"I like you spanking me, Sir," I murmured, embarrassed. My voice went real deep when I was unsure of myself.
"Where do you like me spanking you, Tate?"
"On my ass, Sir."
"Do you want me to do it again?" I felt him close by and heard his quick breaths. This affected him too.
"Yes, Sir."
"Tell me."
"Spank me again, Sir," I said quietly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Spank me again, please, Sir," I spoke louder, feeling the blush creep up my cheeks.
He chuckled, landing a few more blows on my vulnerable bottom. "Your skin pinks up so nicely, Tate. You have a lovely complexion."
"Thank you, Sir."
"And what would you like next, hmm? Crop? Flogger? Paddle?"
"Whatever pleases you, Sir."
"Any of those will please me. I'm giving you the choice."
I thought for a moment. "Paddle, please, Sir." Might as well go for the gusto.
"Very well." He walked over to the wall and selected a small flat wooden paddle from the rack. My heart started to race as I realized what I was in for.
He came back over and showed it to me. "I'm going to paddle you ten times with this, Tate. Then we'll see how you do. Maybe I'll paddle you ten more times after that. Then I'm going to play with your cock until you come. Does that sound nice?"
I moaned, it sounded so fucking incredible. "Yes, Sir."
"I thought so. This is just a bit of fun. You do realize that the sessions next weekend will be much more involved?"
"Yes, Sir."
"All right then. Let's go."
He moved into position and soon I felt the first blow land-painful but nothing too bad. He went slowly, gradually increasing the force of the blows, so that by the time he got to ten, my breaths rasped and my ass throbbed pleasantly.
"How are you doing?" he asked.
"Fine, Sir."
"Excellent. Would you like ten more?"
"Yes, Sir. Please, Sir." I heard the desire and need in my voice.
"All right. Count this time. You can safe-word if you need to."
"Yes, Sir."
I counted as each blow landed on my poor bottom, each one sending pain signals to my ass and pleasure signals to my cock. How that worked I really had no idea. I just knew it did. By the time James landed the tenth blow I think I could have come, hands free, with another strike or two. And by my reactions, he knew it.
He spoke with obvious excitement in his breathless words. "Oh yes, you really do enjoy that, don't you? If I'd kept going you might have just come on your own, eh?"
I nodded. I didn't want to speak. I wanted to come, so badly.
Suddenly, I felt his clothed form press against my throbbing backside as his arm came around me. His hand circled my leaking, twitching cock. I cried out and struggled, so desperate to thrust into that warm grip. But he didn't let me right away. Instead, he watched me pant and whine and struggle for a few minutes before he started moving his hand back and forth on me slowly. I made a desperate sound as I felt the pleasure build.
"That's it." He spoke as he leaned over me and jerked me off. "What a good boy you've been, Tate...what a very good boy..."
I yelled, feeling my cock spasm in his hand as I shot a thick and copious load all over the floor. It lasted a long time as James kept up his slow, firm stroking and because the buildup had been so intense.
Finally, my body stopped shaking and I felt a languid peace come over me. "Thank you, Sir," I sighed.
He gave my ass a light slap, making me wince. He came around to stand in front of me, holding out the hand that was coated with my seed.
"Clean it," he said hoarsely. Our eyes met as I lapped up my own spunk. The intimacy of the act was startling as this powerful and very attractive older man watched me clean my own juice off his hand. Heaven.
He undid my bonds and told me to pull up my pants. Then he made me kneel before him.
"Undo my jeans."
"Yes, Sir." I did so. He wore no underwear, so his cock stood thick and hard before me. I made an eager noise in my throat as I glanced up at him.
He clasped his hands behind his hips and nodded, thrusting himself forward. I didn't need any more prompting. I took him gently in my mouth, cupping his balls with my hand, and swirled my tongue around him.
"Fuck, yes," he murmured. "You are so talented in this department, young man."
I groaned in lieu of saying thank you and took him deeper, swallowing as much of him as I could.
He hissed and groaned. I knew it wouldn't take long. He gasped and growled as I sucked him, letting me know what he liked and what he really liked. Before long I had him on the edge and I doubled the force and speed of my throat work. Suddenly he grunted. I glanced up to see his expression barely change as his juice spurted into me. He watched me from under hooded lids as I struggled to swallow his release.
Once he finished I let his cock slide out of my mouth and licked my lips, daring to give him a small smile.
He grinned back at me, tucking himself up, and said, "That was lovely. I'm glad I was able to give you a little taste of what's to come next weekend."
"Yes, Sir. I can hardly wait, Sir," I said.
We gazed at each other, both of us thinking about all the possibilities for our next visit to this room.
Lying in bed that night, trying but unable to go to sleep, I thought about how I had originally met James.
A friend introduced me to the well-known Dom. A friend that I'd "played" with a few times and who thought that James might be able to give me more of what I wanted than he could. James had initially been a little cold toward me, until my friend told him I really enjoyed cum play and filthy language. At that point he said he'd give me a go. He invited me for an "interview" and once I completed his requirements for a comprehensive STD screen, I joined him for an introductory session.
It had gone well. I behaved myself and demonstrated a high level of pain tolerance and a definite affinity for bottoming as a sub. He'd been impressed and told me so. He liked my body very much, and told me that too. He suggested I put my name down on his waiting list. That had been four months ago.
And now my turn had come. I would spend Friday evening, all day Saturday and all day Sunday with the Dom of my dreams. He would send me the information and preparation instructions by email so that I knew what to expect.
I already knew what to expect-a weekend of extreme kinkiness and submission at the powerful hands of James Lucas.
How the hell would I get any sleep this week?
The Cross and the Trinity #2
Chapter One
My So-Called Life
Driving home from another boring workshop, I cranked up the tunes on the radio. I yawned and shook my head wearily. What a fucking week. Okay, who was I kidding? What a fucking three months.
My workload had doubled. My boss, believing that my intelligence and capabilities automatically signified an interest and ambition to succeed, had put me on the fast track, learning to be an associate consultant in the business. I’d been working long days and frequent weekends, as he’d expanded his clientele and increased his business reach. I was exhausted.
To top it off, my dad lay in the hospital dying of Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD) and advanced Parkinson’s; the former the result of fifty decades of incessant cigarette smoking, the latter a cruel chance of fate and genetics. My mom was a basket case. My brother Frank wasn’t much help. He had a wife and three kids to look after. He did what he could, when he could, but I knew he had other responsibilities. The truth was, so did I. And I wasn’t sure I was fulfilling them very well these days.
Maybe I was being paranoid. My partner, Sebastian, seemed as loving and attentive as ever when I was home. I wasn’t sure what he did when I was at work. He had his job, true, but that didn’t take up nearly as much time as mine, and I worried about him being bored and lonely a lot of the time.
Anyway, I was determined to change things, because I missed him.
Our first six months of living together had been wonderful. We’d both been deep in the throes of newfound love and passion, heady indeed, and found that this gave us the energy and imperative to make the practical adjustments work. We were well suited to live together.
I loved to cook and Sebastian loved to eat. I still didn’t know how he managed to stay so slim eating as much as he did, but at least I had him eating a little healthier now, although he still snuck junk food in whenever he could. He did like to jog, and sometimes I’d go with him. I called it “walking the dog” when I did, which gave him a little giggle.
Sebastian had a penchant for dress up role-play. He’d discovered pup play online and owned enough gear to make this a fascinating pastime. He liked to play at being my pup when in the mood, and I enjoyed rubbing his belly whenever he wanted me to. This usually led to sex, no matter how much I tried to be good. He didn’t seem to mind. He would ask, on occasion, to have some platonic playtime, but not very often. He got worked up as much as I did whenever he put the hood on and tail in. It seemed a match made in Heaven.
I pulled into my parking spot and got out of the car, grabbing my briefcase and jacket, and walked quickly to the building’s entrance. Maybe we could go out for supper, then to a movie or something. We’d had so little time together lately.
Sebastian lifted his head from the magazine he was reading when I keyed myself in. “You’re home!”
I checked my watch. Six thirty-five. Earlier than I’d been home all week.
“I know. Amazing right?” I shook my head. “How’s it going?”
“Fine.” He stood up and approached me, moving in for a hug and a kiss. I ruffled his blond mop of hair affectionately.
“Do you feel like going out for supper? We haven’t tried that new Indian place yet.”
Sebastian smiled happily. “That sounds great.”
Located in a small strip mall at the edge of Ottawa’s swanky Alta Vista neighborhood, the restaurant was cozy and warm, decorated with an eastern elegance. The tantalizing aroma of Indian spices filled the small space while sitar music played softly in the background.
We were seated at a small table in the corner, which suited me perfectly. I wanted to enjoy an intimate meal with my boyfriend for once.
“Mmmm, I’m salivating already,” Sebastian murmured while perusing the menu.
“You’d do Pavlov proud, pup,” I said, enjoying his blush and shy grin. His eyes met mine and I remembered an intimate moment from…a couple of weeks back? Had it been that long?
I rubbed my fingers against my forehead, the fatigue of my long hours getting to me.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Just tired.”
The waiter came and took our drink order, then returned quickly. We told him what we wanted off the menu.
“Hot, please. Pretend we’re family,” I said.
The waiter grinned, writing quickly. “You can take it?”
“We can take it.”
“Of course, sir.” He gathered our menus and headed to the kitchen.
We sipped our drinks, enjoying the intimate warmth of being together in a soothing environment.
“This is nice. I miss this,” Sebastian murmured, gazing at me with emotion.
“I know. Me too.”
“You’ve just been working so much,” he said. “When is he going to let up on you, Tate?”
I shrugged. “Soon, I hope. I’ll talk to him on Monday. When I accepted the promotion I didn’t realize how much extra work there’d be.”
“You do realize we haven’t had sex for three weeks?” he said somberly.
“Um…really? I guess…really?” I sounded like the idiot I was.
He nodded. “I just miss that too, y’know? Your job’s important. I get that. But what about me?”
“You don’t think you’re important?”
“I wonder, sometimes.”
“Sebastian. You’re very important to me. I love you, you know that?” I hesitated. “I’m just kind of distracted right now. With work, with what’s going on with my Dad.”
He nodded. “How is he?”
“Same. Cruddy. I wish he would just…”
“Don’t say that.”
“He’s suffering.”
“I know.”
“My mom’s going out of her mind.”
“I know. I talked to her last week. She was pretty upset. She went out with my mom and Granny Jo for supper. I think it helped a bit, but she sounded so exhausted and stressed.”
“She did? That was nice of them to ask her.”
“Haven’t you talked to her recently?”
I shook my head. “It’s been a crazy week. I’ll call her tomorrow.”
The waiter brought our food and we ate slowly, enjoying the flavors and heat of the traditional dishes. The flavorful food rejuvenated my energy and when the meal was over I wasn’t ready to go home.
“Wanna go dancing?” I asked my blue-eyed cutie after we left the warmth of the restaurant. “We haven’t done that in awhile.”
He grinned and grabbed my hand. “Sure!”
Sebastian had gotten over his fear of public dancing and now loved to shake his booty for me whenever possible. He was a great little mover—I just had to keep the hands of all the other horny men off him.
“The Lookout?” I suggested.
“Isn’t Friday night Ladies’ Night?”
I shrugged. “So? I don’t want to share you with anyone anyway.” I pulled him over to me in the darkness of the parking lot and grabbed his ass.
“Fuck,” he hissed, rubbing himself against me. I felt the hardness of his cock under the denim of his jeans.
Our lips came together and we kissed desperately, our bodies reaching for something elusive and rare. It had been a long time.
Turned out dancing dirty together in a room full of hot lesbians was exactly what we needed. They urged us on, realizing no doubt that we were desperate for each other. They took turns with each of us too, as if to prolong our separation and drive us even crazier. By the time we managed to extricate ourselves it was near midnight and it seemed I would die if I didn’t get Sebastian into bed as soon as possible.
I drove home, my right hand moving between his thigh and his crotch the entire way. Sebastian looked as if he might explode or faint or something.
We didn’t make it to the bed. Half an hour after getting home we lay entwined, naked, on the living room floor rug, giggling like naughty schoolgirls.
“Holy shit, Tate, that was awesome.”
I kissed him hard, hinting that I’d be ready for another round in a few minutes.
“Again? Really?” he mumbled against my lips as my hand found his cock and gently coaxed it back to life.
The following day we woke up feeling satisfied and relaxed, a nice change from the stressful past few months. We stayed in bed, snuggling, until the sun was high and our stomachs began to rumble.
It was a wonderful interlude of intimacy in a crazy schedule and it didn’t last long.
I called my mom that evening while Sebastian was watching TV in the bedroom. “Hey Mom, how’s it going?”
“Oh, hi, sweetie. Okay, I guess. I spoke to Sebastian last week. He says you’ve been working late a lot.”
“Yeah. They offered me a promotion about three months ago. I took it before realizing how much more work it would be.”
“Oh.” She sounded like she wanted to say more.
“What?”
“It’s not…anything else?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I mean, you’re not seeing someone else?”
I clenched my fist against my thigh. “Tell me you have not been worrying about my relationship on top of everything else.”
“Sebastian sounded so sad and lonely when I spoke to him.”
“Mom. I’m not cheating on him. I’m working my ass off for people who have very high expectations of me.”
“Okay. I believe you. But, I think Sebastian has high expectations of you too. And having been in that same place for a good long while, I guess my paranoia got the better of me.”
“I’m not cheating, Mom. I’m too damn tired to cheat. And why would I want to?”
She laughed. “Well, that’s good. I think Sebastian’s a good fit for you.”
“You don’t have to tell me that. This job on the other hand…”
“You need to talk to your boss. Let him know the workload is affecting your personal life. Most supervisors are sensitive to things like that.”
“I’m going to talk to him on Monday. I can’t go on like this.”
“Well, I hope you get it sorted out. It’d be a shame to quit after all the time you’ve put in there.”
“Yeah, I know. I don’t want to quit. I just don’t want to work so much.” I toyed with the top of my club soda can. “Did you see Dad today?”
“Yes. Actually, I just came from there.”
“How is he?”
“The same. I keep thinking he’ll start to go one way or the other, but he’s always the same.” When she spoke again, her voice was very quiet. “Tate, this could go on for months.”
I sighed. “I know.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I’ll go see him tomorrow.”
“He’d like that. Why don’t you bring Sebastian with you?”
“Well…I don’t…”
“Look, honey, I know he’s never been hugely supportive of your lifestyle. But he’s really in no position to judge you right now. He’ll just be glad to see you.”
“Okay.”
“Love you.”
“Me too.”
I hung up the phone, struggling with my emotions all of a sudden. It was too much. The pressure at work, my dad in the hospital, my mom stressing out, and Sebastian needing me. I had to get out of here.
I grabbed my keys and put on my boots. Sebastian came out of the bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“I just—I’m going for a walk,” I muttered, not wanting to linger in case the threatening tears emerged.
I felt bad about taking off, but I needed to breathe. I really did need to speak with my boss, because this schedule was killing me. But if I was honest, it wasn’t just work that was affecting my relationship with Sebastian. I hadn’t lied to my Mom. I wasn’t actually cheating on Sebastian. But I felt like I was.
The dreams had started about three or four months after we’d moved in together, and James Lucas was in every one of them.
I didn’t always see him in the dream, but I knew he was there. I knew because of what I felt in the dream. And what I felt was indescribable.
It reminded me of that last weekend I’d spent with him. The sense of trust and submission and testing. Him testing me, testing the boundaries of what I would do for him. I had done everything he’d asked of me. And I would do more—much more.
I felt my cock swell just thinking about the tenor of those dreams. They always involved restraint of some kind. And I was always on the edge, ready to come, but not allowed. In some of the dreams, I saw him as he teased me. In others, I only heard his voice. And in a few, he was simply a nearby presence, waiting and watching, while I struggled with my captive desire.
These dreams made me feel guilty even though I knew everyone had sex dreams about people other than their live-in-lovers/spouses. To dream of a variety of people wouldn’t have bothered me so much. But it was always him. And if I was honest with myself I’d admit that I missed and desired him in my waking world as well.
But why? Why did he haunt my dreams at night and my thoughts during the day?
I couldn’t imagine my life without Sebastian. The intimacy we had and the sex we enjoyed, when I wasn’t so busy and tired, was mind blowing. He was my lover and my friend—and my pup when the mood hit us. And he was even my Dom from time to time.
However, no Dom could compare to James.
Of course, what were the odds I’d ever see him again? I refused to seek him out. I’d told Sebastian that it was over with James, and I’d meant it. I wouldn’t jeopardize our relationship by hooking up with someone else, let alone the man who’d declared his desire to possess me.
Maybe these dreams were simply the manifestation of my frustrated desire for Sebastian, since work was keeping me from enjoying him as much as I liked. Perhaps, if I made an effort to alter my crazy work schedule so that I could spend more time with my boy, the dreams would go away.
After I’d burned off some of the latent anxiety I returned to the apartment and found Sebastian playing a videogame, his bare feet on the coffee table and a cup of tea beside him.
“Hey,” he greeted me distantly, no doubt ticked off by my hasty exit.
The walk had cleared my head a bit and all I wanted to do was curl up on the couch with my boy. Well, maybe that wasn’t all.
I came up behind him and bent down, nuzzling his neck and ear the way that I knew he loved. “Hi beautiful.”
He giggled. “Good walk?”
“Yes. Sorry. I just needed some fresh air.”
“And what do you need right now?” he asked, gazing up at me with a twinkle in his eye.
I slid my hand down the inside of his t-shirt and teased his nipple. “Some fresh meat.”
He groaned, dropping the controller.
I tilted his chin up, kissing him hard. Taking my hand out of his shirt, I began to unbutton his jeans. I still leaned over him and the couch, my crotch pressing against the back of his head. He tilted his head backward as his hands came up and started working my fly.
Soon I had his cock out. His vocal response made me even more eager.
“Oh my God, Tate…that feels so good.”
He’d managed to release me from the confines of my own jeans and now worked my cock from underneath. I moved my hand faster on him.
“Oh…fuck yeah…” I groaned, all the tension I’d felt earlier concentrated in my dick and balls. Sex therapy. It’s really the answer to stress of all kinds.
We worked each other in this position until it became too uncomfortable.
“Get naked and come to the bedroom,” I ordered breathlessly.
“No,” he said, struggling to zip his jeans.
I stared at him, confused.
“You get naked and come to the bedroom.”
I hesitated, trying to catch up as he switched on me. It sent a thrill from my head to my toes.
“Now,” he said firmly. I felt the smile emerge on my face.
“Yes, Sir,” I mumbled, scrambling out of my clothes while Sebastian walked calmly to our room, glancing back to make sure I was coming. As soon as I had my clothes off, I followed.
A Numinous Light #3
Convocation
"James, have you seen my purple tie?" Sebastian asked frantically from our bedroom down the hall, the former guest room we'd originally used when visiting. "We're supposed to be there forty-five minutes in advance and I can't find it."
"Can he borrow a purple tie?" I said to James as I watched him adjust his blue one. "He'll never find it."
James nodded. "Have a look. I'm sure there's one that will do."
I went to his closet and looked through his large collection of ties until I found one that approximated the purple shade of Sebastian's. As I walked past James on my way out of the room I whistled in appreciation, winking when he looked my way.
He smiled. "You look damn good yourself, you know."
"Why, thank you," I said, bowing before taking the needed tie down the hall to my other boyfriend.
When I stepped into our bedroom, I saw Sebastian on his knees looking under the bed.
"Here. James has one you can wear."
He looked up at me, the flop of his blond hair concealing one blue eye. "Oh good. I don't know where mine's got to."
Sebastian was not the neatest person when it came to putting his clothes away. Sure, he'd clean and organize the kitchen from top to bottom when he was stressed, but the bedroom was another matter.
"What time is it?" he asked as he stood up and took the tie from me. "Are we going to be late?"
"Would you relax? We've got lots of time."
"But we're supposed to be there--"
"You'll get there when you get there. It'll just mean you won't have to stand in line for half an hour waiting for the ceremony to start."
A year after we moved into James' home, Sebastian quit his job at PetLuv and took a full time program at Algonquin College in Graphic Design. James and I supported him financially while he went to school because we didn't want him working weekends and evenings when we would want to spend time together. Tonight's Convocation ceremony, the culmination of three years study and perseverance, was stressing him out.
His fingers fumbled with the knot so I stepped forward. "I'll do it."
As I deftly knotted the purple tie I couldn't help admiring the strong neck and broad shoulders of my blond lover. He looked so sharp all dressed up for his graduation and I felt so proud. It took a lot of guts to decide to change one's life in a significant way. The hard work he'd put into the past three years had paid off. He was top of his graduating class and already had a few solid clients and jobs lined up for the next three months.
When I'd finished I stepped back to observe him. He adjusted his suit jacket nervously. "Well?"
"You'll do."
He smiled. "Thanks. I guess we'd better go."
The NAC lobby was almost empty by the time we arrived. Sebastian said a quick goodbye and made his way backstage where the graduates were supposed to line up.
The Mezzanine level was packed so we went up to the first balcony and were lucky enough to find two seats together. As we looked over the program, James said, "I feel like a proud parent today. Is that perverted?"
I laughed. "Probably."
"It's a shame his mother and sister couldn't make it."
I nodded. "Well, they've got their hands full right now."
Sebastian's mom had gone to visit his sister in Toronto to help look after her first grandchild, a little boy named Duncan. Otherwise she, at least, would have made it.
"When should we give him his graduation gift?" I asked.
"I brought the tickets. We can present them as soon we see him after the ceremony."
We had racked our brains for a unique graduation gift. Finally, James had stumbled upon the perfect idea--a helicopter tour of Ottawa. Some co-worker of his had raved about how fantastic this tour had been, and James asked the name of the company. We bought tickets for all three of us. Our tour was booked for tomorrow morning at ten a.m. and so far the weather forecast looked good. They'd warned us the trip could be cancelled with little notice if the pilot had concerns.
The ceremony finally began. Since Doucette fell early in the alphabet, it didn't take long for Sebastian's name to be called. He strode proudly up to the college President, shook his hand, and took his envelope, with a big smile on his handsome face. He looked out at the audience, squinted as if trying to see us, then turned and strode off stage. I'd waved even though there'd be no chance he'd see us behind the spotlights. I remembered my own graduation ceremony and how proud I'd felt to have accomplished such a worthwhile goal.
We filed into the lobby after the ceremony for some light refreshments. As I reached for a brownie I heard my name and turned. Sebastian came quickly from the backstage door, holding his cap as his robe ballooned out behind him.
"There he is. The college graduate," James said proudly, grabbing Sebastian's hand and pulling him in for a hug and quick kiss on the cheek.
"Thanks. Phew. I'm glad that's over," he said, his face flushed from the heat and excitement.
"Hey, you did great. Congratulations, babe," I murmured, hugging him and licking his neck surreptitiously.
"Thanks. Is that a brownie?"
"Here, you can have it."
"Thanks!"
"Do you want something to drink? I'm going to the bar," James said.
James went off to get drinks while I stood with Sebastian, watching friends and relatives greet graduates as they emerged.
"So? How does it feel?"
He grinned. "Pretty damn good. I'm so glad I did it."
"So am I. Your talents were wasted at PetLuv my friend."
"No kidding. It was fun for awhile, but I definitely didn't want to have to work there forever."
After we'd had something to eat and drink, James took some photos of Sebastian in his robe and graduate cap, holding his certificate. Then we gave him the tickets we'd bought for the helicopter tour.
"What? Really? Holy shit, this is gonna be amazing! Thanks guys. You didn't have to do this. I couldn't have done this without you and now you're showering me with gifts."
"Don't talk about showering, please," James murmured with a stern look. "I'm trying to be good."
"Thank you, really," Sebastian said, taking his cap off and using it to block curious eyes as he kissed first me, and then James, on the lips. "I fucking love you both."
At ten o'clock the following morning we met with our helicopter pilot, an eleven-year veteran of the skies named Yvonne, with a purple streak in her hair and a silver ring in her eyebrow. Middle aged, voluptuous and pretty, with a mouth like a sailor and the humor to match, she quickly put us at ease.
James said he'd hold my hand if I was scared. I told him to fuck off because I wasn't scared. I'd just never been up in a helicopter before.
Sebastian, typically for him, acted like an excited puppy. His foot tapped with excess energy while we listened to Yvonne's safety briefing.
Finally, it was time to board.
"Who would like to sit up front?" Yvonne asked, looking pointedly at me.
"Yeah, no thanks. I'm pretty sure Sebastian would like that spot."
"Absolutely!" he yelped, climbing in to the front seat. Yvonne showed him how to put on the seatbelt while James and I got in behind.
"Please be careful not to press any buttons or switches, whether deliberately or inadvertently as you move," Yvonne said, pointing out the panels beside the seats. We fastened ourselves in and Yvonne passed us each our headphone sets. She checked that we could all hear and be heard before starting up the machine.
"Okay. Let's go, huh?"
The experience was one I would never forget. As the helicopter lifted off the landing pad I suffered a brief moment of fear before becoming mesmerized by the majesty of the landscape falling away from us.
"Oh, wow…" Sebastian said as we rose into the sky.
The feeling of weightlessness and freedom made me giddy, so I did end up reaching for James' hand. He took it quietly, smiling at me with assurance.
I'd never seen Ottawa Gatineau from this perspective before. The picturesque views of water and land stunned me with their beauty. Best of all was the approach over the Ottawa River to the Parliament Buildings as they overlooked the cliff and the city of Gatineau. Yvonne slowly circled the historic seat of the Canadian Government, viewing it at all angles before heading over the city.
When we passed over our neighborhood James momentarily regretted not putting a big "Congratulations Sebastian!" sign on our roof.
"Next time," I joked.
"Right."
We really didn't talk much, since the views were so astounding and we'd all brought cameras. Yvonne pointed out the landmarks and explained our flight path in a clear, slightly accented voice. She checked in on us a few times to make sure nobody felt sick or uneasy. We assured her we were all enjoying ourselves immensely.
"Good. Is this a birthday gift to someone?" she asked, nodding at Sebastian.
"Graduation present," James said with a smile.
"My son just got his degree as well," Yvonne said. "Such a relief and it makes you so proud."
James and I glanced at each other, neither wanting to correct her. How would we explain that Sebastian was actually James' lover, not his son? Neither of us wanted to make our pilot uncomfortable mid-flight, so we simply smiled and nodded. Sebastian didn't even seem to hear, so enraptured was he in the entire experience.
The tour took about an hour. When we finally landed back at the airfield in Gatineau, all three of us expressed how impressed we'd been with the trip.
"Well, you'll have to come again," Yvonne said. "Who's got a birthday coming up?"
Sebastian and I looked at James. His fiftieth was just around the corner, but we had something else planned for that.
James laughed. "Well, I do. But I think it's going to be a quiet affair," he said, gazing at us meaningfully.
Heading home in the car, nobody spoke much. It had been an experience that was difficult to sum up in words.
"Shall we grab a bite to eat? It's eleven thirty," James said.
"Where?" Sebastian asked.
"You choose. We'll make it part of your gift."
"Jesus. You guys are making too much of this," he muttered, embarrassed.
"Hey, it's the first time we've helped anybody graduate. We probably won't be having kids so this is our moment, right James?" I explained, remembering Yvonne's comment.
"Exactly."
"So don't ruin it for us. Where do you want to eat?"
"Fine. Let's go to Cora's." There was a pregnant pause. "You said I could choose," Sebastian pointed out.
"Well, I…" James began.
"You know, it's just that…" I tried to explain.
"My sister and I eat there whenever she's in town. The food's great."
"Cora's it is," James said, turning the corner onto Bank Street.
It wasn't that we didn't like the food at Cora's. It would be hard to find fault with the waffles, omelets, and pancakes loaded with fresh fruit, English cream, and syrup. Let's just say that the vibe was more Old Folk's Home than Urban Eatery. This never seemed to bother Sebastian--nothing much bothered Sebastian when it came to eating--but James and I found the atmosphere a bit…suburban for our tastes.
At any rate, this was Sebastian's celebration and we wouldn't ruin it for him. Of course, we'd have to refrain from any obvious displays of intimacy over brunch, since we'd be likely to get at least a few rude stares and loud comments. It seemed that when people reached a certain age they no longer cared much what anyone thought--they'd say whatever they liked. And since most of them were deaf, they'd say it loudly.
So James and I accompanied Sebastian into the restaurant in question, requesting a booth and hoping for one in the corner or at least away from curious onlookers. Sometimes people in their senior years would go looking for trouble. Maybe their lives weren't as interesting as they used to be, and a self righteous exchange with their companions about the three men sitting together in booth five was just what they needed. Of course, I was generalizing. Sebastian's Granny Jo had been quick-witted, world-wise, and savvy to a lot of things, and strangely liberated for someone her age. But we knew she was the exception.
Since no booths were available, we were directed to a table quite close to other diners, most notably a large group of elderly men and women who seemed to be celebrating a retirement. Perhaps the curious glances we received were due to the fact that Sebastian and I were the youngest people in the restaurant, and also kind on the eye. And James, well, James attracted attention everywhere he went.
"Hmm, I'm going to get an omelet," James said, perusing the menu. "What about you?"
"The Belgian waffle is calling my name," I said.
"Sebastian?"
"The Fourth of July looks good. Crepes, French toast, and fruit."
"Wonderful." He looked around for a server. "I really need a coffee."
"Me too," I said.
Finally, a server saw us and filled our mugs. "Sorry, it's a zoo in here today. What would you gentlemen like?"
When she left we sat quietly, sipping our coffees. It was strange but I felt more relaxed in this place. I didn't feel like I had to impress anyone. The fact that I had all my own teeth seemed to already give me points.
"So what do you want for your birthday, big boy?" I asked James.
"A special session in the loft will be just fine."
"Well, that's a given. What else?"
"I don't need anything else."
"Are you sure?" Sebastian said. "Any electronics you need? Or a new wallet or something?"
James made a face. "I like to choose my own accessories. And my electronics are mostly up to date. But thank you."
"Come on, James. It's a pretty significant birthday. We'd like to do something special," I insisted.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "It's only a number."
I blinked. "Are you worried about turning fifty?" I couldn't believe James worried about anything.
"Of course not."
Sebastian and I looked at him, not believing his answer for once.
"What?"
"You are worried. You're worried about turning fifty," I said, still shocked to see a chink in James' confident social armor.
He laughed, but it sounded forced. "I'm not worried. Why would I be worried?"
I gazed at him, assessing. Then I shrugged. "Yeah, why would you be worried? It's just a number."
"Exactly. It's not like I'm going to wake up as somebody different."
"I certainly hope not," I said. "Still. Only ten more years and you'll be sixty."
Sebastian's eyes widened. James' gaze turned steely.
"Watch yourself, Tate."
"Aha. You are worried."
"I'm not worried," he said firmly. "But you should be."
"What are you gonna do? Put me over your knee right here?" I whispered across the table.
Sebastian began to look panicked. "Jesus, don't tempt him!" he hissed, looking at James to gauge his reaction.
James sat very quietly, staring at me while I looked back at him. Oh man, he was too quiet. He picked up his coffee and took a sip, then placed the cup back down. It clinked on the Formica tabletop. "I just might. But I wouldn't want to cause someone to have a heart attack. Which would be a genuine risk in this place."
I gave Sebastian an "I told you so" look.
"However," James said slowly. "When we get home I may just have to remind you of proper manners."
My heart fell as I felt a sympathetic ache in my buttocks reminding me of spankings past.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I just want you to admit that you just might be a tiny bit anxious about turning fifty. Because there's a tiny chance we just might want to celebrate this milestone in your life."
He sighed again. "Is that really necessary?"
"It just might be."
"Fine. But no silly cakes in the shape of private parts or anything ridiculous like that. Please let me turn fifty with dignity."
I glanced at Sebastian. We'd never even thought of getting a penis cake for James' party. It was genius.
I didn't get out of there until five thirty, so barely had time to get home, grab a quick bite, shower, dress and make it to James' place for the designated hour. Luckily, I pulled into his driveway with ten minutes to spare. James did not look kindly upon tardiness and I didn't want to start off on the wrong foot. Not a good idea to piss off your Dom before a weekend of voluntary submission.
I got out of my little red Civic and approached the house, straightening my jacket and brushing mostly imaginary dust and dirt off my jeans. I had dressed casual sexy, not wanting to give the impression that I thought this a huge occasion-even though I actually did. I had waited months for this weekend, and it was almost upon me. To say I was excited would be a serious understatement.
I rang the bell and after a few moments the door opened. James Lucas stood there, in the flesh. In the absolutely gorgeous, dick-hardening, heartbeat-quickening flesh.
"Hello, Tate."
My eyes raked over him, taking in his handsome face with the slightly graying goatee, intelligent brown eyes, and those soft, curved lips that formed themselves into a welcoming smile. He tilted his shaved head slightly, conveying a sexy confidence and faith in his own intrinsic attractiveness. The man had presence.
"Hello, Sir." I murmured, my pulse increasing rapidly as I took in his muscular form clothed in black jeans and a burgundy long sleeved t-shirt, the dark red cotton of which outlined his muscular arms and chest.
"Come in, come in," he said, moving back to give me some space to enter. His face, hard and soft in all the right places, held enough slight wrinkles and creases to make it interesting and give an indeterminate quality to his exact age.
I did so, careful not to touch him before he'd given me permission. I knew the protocol now, and wanted to show him that I remembered.
I remembered everything.
"Here, I'll take your coat," he said, holding out his broad, beautifully masculine hand. I noticed how long and elegant his fingers were as I peeled off my brown leather jacket and handed it to him, our eyes meeting for a moment. The message in his went straight to my groin and I felt my dick start to react. Jesus, what he did to me.
"Come into the living room, please." He gestured towards the large room to the left of the hall. His voice sounded a warm tenor-melodious and smooth.
I preceded him into the room, hoping that he checked me out in my carefully chosen jeans and black Sex Pistols t-shirt. I'd found the latter at Value Village a few weeks ago and knew it would be the perfect club shirt, not to mention the perfect "meeting your Dom before playtime" shirt. Nothing beat retro punk wear, in my opinion.
I stood nervously beside the sofa, awaiting further instruction.
"Have a seat, Tate. And you can relax. We're meeting as equals here to discuss the weekend. You don't have to take on the sub role quite yet. When you arrive here next Friday, the situation will be different. But for now, we're just friends discussing an upcoming event."
I nodded. "Okay." I sat down on the couch and tried to relax.
"Would you like something to drink?" he asked as he poured himself some Jack Daniel's. "You know I don't permit any alcohol for my subs, but we're not quite there yet. If you'd like something, you're welcome to it."
I shook my head. "I'd better not. I have to drive home." I wasn't exactly sure how long our meeting would last.
He regarded me with a little smile. "I thought perhaps, after we discuss the technicalities, I could reintroduce you to my loft for a short session." His intelligent eyes conveyed lust and desire and mischief. "If you like."
Struck speechless for a moment, I wondered how to tell him that I wasn't really prepared.
As if reading my mind, he asked, "Did you shower before coming here?"
I nodded. "Yeah, but I didn't...prepare...in any other way." I knew that James liked his subs absolutely clean, inside and out, before they went into the loft.
He laughed. "Don't worry about that. We won't get that far today." He sat down across from me in the armchair and sipped his drink. "I usually don't drink before a session. But this will be a casual one, and I'm only having a bit. Are you interested? Or would you rather just wait until next weekend? It's entirely your choice, Tate. There's no wrong answer." He leaned forward. "Just tell me what you want."
I cleared my throat. "I want to go to the loft...tonight...when we're done here."
He nodded. "Great. Well, let's get to it then, shall we? How old are you? I've forgotten."
"I just turned twenty-seven," I said. "Last week."
He smiled. "Happy Birthday."
"Thanks."
He brought out the contract he'd prepared. We went through it page by page, discussing my hard and soft limits, goals, fears, strengths and weaknesses. We spoke about the safe words and hand signals I would use and that there would be no punishment for safe-wording. It simply meant the session would end immediately. There was no reason it couldn't be resumed soon after, if mutually agreed upon.
It didn't take that long. By the time we finished, my arousal level had gone from Code Orange to Code Red. This matter-of-fact discussion of the intimate details of various Dom/sub scenarios, implements of pleasure and torture, and ways of using them, proved very effective. Thank goodness he had suggested a short session, because if he hadn't, I'd have had to drive home with an aching, leaking cock in my pants. I'd need to be careful though, and follow his instructions. Because I knew it would amuse him to send me home in this state, or a worse one, if I didn't please him. Even though he'd said this would be a casual session, we'd still be playing as Dom and sub, and I knew exactly what that meant.
"Well, I think that's everything." He had me sign in a few places and then put the papers into a large manila envelope. "I'm just going to put these away. Why don't you meet me upstairs? Keep your clothes on but take your shoes and socks off. You don't have to kneel on the floor but I'd like you standing next to the spanking bench."
I gulped as my dick throbbed in anticipation. "Sure."
He left the room. I took off my shoes and socks and put them near my jacket in the hall. Then I padded quietly up the circular stairs to the second floor, down the hall past the guest bathroom, and up one more flight until I reached the familiar double doors. I tried the handles. They were unlocked so I pushed the doors open and entered James' converted attic room.
Not the typical dungeon that you would expect-dark and dimly lit and filled with frightening implements. The airy space gave forth a different vibe. The two uncovered windows looked out from the second floor room onto open fields at the back. Natural light shone in through a skylight in the middle of the ceiling, illuminating everything.
I knew James' tastes. If he wanted to place someone in darkness he would blindfold them. But he wanted to see everything. He wanted to see the sunlight glinting off the sweaty skin of his sub, to see it glancing off the steel of the cage on his sub's straining cock. He wanted to see the sparkle on a dewdrop of moisture leaking from his sub's captured penis. He'd told me that he found all of it beautiful.
Instead of a massive four-poster bed, like I'd read about in fictional playrooms, a simple, sturdy bed frame and mattress stood against one wall. Bigger than king size and covered with expensive looking sheets, it became a focal point, but didn't overshadow the rest of the room. There were obvious places to attach wrist cuffs or ankle cuffs, and even some eye hooks on the wall above the head of the bed.
A mesh swing device hung from the ceiling to the left of the mattress. It looked mighty comfy, made from soft ropes and hung like a hammock. But I knew the torture that could be dealt out there-teasing and toying that had you screaming in frustration before he'd let you come. It frightened and excited me at the same time.
On the wall to the right of the mattress stood the typical St. Andrew's Cross. Painted dark brown to stand out against the sand-colored walls, it looked quite modern and high tech. There were eye hooks everywhere, it seemed, so that a person could be attached to the cross in all sorts of different ways. There was even a spot that would hold a dildo in place so a person could be restrained and impaled at the same time.
Against the far wall stood a couple of bondage benches, and a kneeler that could be pulled out and used when needed. Above these hung floggers, paddles and crops of varying sizes and materials.
In the very centre of the room, where I knew he'd probably positioned it before I arrived, stood the spanking bench.
I walked over to it, admiring its simplicity and workmanship. Made of solid oak, with leather pads where the sub's knees and ankles would be positioned, it looked like a strange upside-down chair. There were four stand-alone supports, one for each knee and forearm. All the supports were fitted with bindings to secure the sub in place.
I glanced over at James' selection of crops and paddles, then back at the spanking bench. I had listed being spanked as one of my favorite things to do in the loft, and I wasn't lying. For some reason, an older, sexy, dominant guy whacking my ass with a crop or a flogger or a paddle sent me to the moon.
I stood staring at the bench, imagining James' practiced strikes until my cock grew so hard I thought it might rip through my jeans. Then I heard his footsteps on the stairs. My knees went weak. It would have been easier to kneel, but I stood beside the spanking bench with my eyes on the floor as I heard the doors open.
James entered.
I heard him chuckle softly. "Oh, yes. You look wonderful standing there, waiting for me," he said huskily, and I felt my cock throb. He closed the doors and locked them, then came closer. I saw his bare feet and the bottom of his black jeans. He took my chin in his hand, tilting my face up so I could look him in the eyes.
"I thought a nice spanking might be a good place to start with you." His brown eyes had darkened to almost black.
They delved into mine, seeking out the most secret parts of my soul, as I sighed and said, "Yes, Sir."
I expected him to tell me to strip, but instead he told me to get up on the bench. I wondered if he would keep me clothed today. I really didn't know what to expect.
Once I got up there and he'd bound my calves and forearms, I felt his hands on the fly of my jeans. I moaned, that light touch from his fingers already driving me mad.
"Easy, boy...we haven't even started yet." I sensed a smile in his voice.
He unzipped me and grabbed the waist of my jeans and black boxer briefs, pulling everything down past my hips. Since my legs splayed out a bit, he couldn't get them any farther down. For some reason, this made me feel more vulnerable than if I'd been completely naked. I struggled in my bonds and glanced back desperately.
James saw me and gave me a stern look. "Eyes forward, Tate. You know the rules."
I did as directed, trying to calm my breathing as I felt his large hand caress my right buttock.
He tsked. "Looks like you need some work before next weekend. I like my boys smoother than this. But it will do for now..."
Oh Christ. I'd forgotten about James' predilection for smoothly shaven men. It had been awhile since I'd been for a waxing. I blushed with shame and embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, Sir," I murmured.
"It's okay. This was an unplanned session."
"Yes, Sir."
Suddenly his hand disappeared. Then I felt it come down on my ass cheek, hard. He spanked me three times, in the same spot. I groaned. It was so long since I'd had this...
"You like that, don't you?" he said softly, caressing the other buttock and then landing three successive slaps to that side.
I moaned as my ass swayed from side to side with the joy of it. Suddenly, I felt his warm hand on my cock. I cried out in surprise and at the wonderful feel of it.
"Oh, yes. You do like that. Very much, eh?" His voice came silky and soft from his throat, as if he were trying to seduce me, when he already had me very much at his mercy.
"Yes, Sir."
"Tell me." A harder edge crept into his voice now, which I loved.
"I like it," I said.
"Be specific."
"I like you spanking me, Sir," I murmured, embarrassed. My voice went real deep when I was unsure of myself.
"Where do you like me spanking you, Tate?"
"On my ass, Sir."
"Do you want me to do it again?" I felt him close by and heard his quick breaths. This affected him too.
"Yes, Sir."
"Tell me."
"Spank me again, Sir," I said quietly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Spank me again, please, Sir," I spoke louder, feeling the blush creep up my cheeks.
He chuckled, landing a few more blows on my vulnerable bottom. "Your skin pinks up so nicely, Tate. You have a lovely complexion."
"Thank you, Sir."
"And what would you like next, hmm? Crop? Flogger? Paddle?"
"Whatever pleases you, Sir."
"Any of those will please me. I'm giving you the choice."
I thought for a moment. "Paddle, please, Sir." Might as well go for the gusto.
"Very well." He walked over to the wall and selected a small flat wooden paddle from the rack. My heart started to race as I realized what I was in for.
He came back over and showed it to me. "I'm going to paddle you ten times with this, Tate. Then we'll see how you do. Maybe I'll paddle you ten more times after that. Then I'm going to play with your cock until you come. Does that sound nice?"
I moaned, it sounded so fucking incredible. "Yes, Sir."
"I thought so. This is just a bit of fun. You do realize that the sessions next weekend will be much more involved?"
"Yes, Sir."
"All right then. Let's go."
He moved into position and soon I felt the first blow land-painful but nothing too bad. He went slowly, gradually increasing the force of the blows, so that by the time he got to ten, my breaths rasped and my ass throbbed pleasantly.
"How are you doing?" he asked.
"Fine, Sir."
"Excellent. Would you like ten more?"
"Yes, Sir. Please, Sir." I heard the desire and need in my voice.
"All right. Count this time. You can safe-word if you need to."
"Yes, Sir."
I counted as each blow landed on my poor bottom, each one sending pain signals to my ass and pleasure signals to my cock. How that worked I really had no idea. I just knew it did. By the time James landed the tenth blow I think I could have come, hands free, with another strike or two. And by my reactions, he knew it.
He spoke with obvious excitement in his breathless words. "Oh yes, you really do enjoy that, don't you? If I'd kept going you might have just come on your own, eh?"
I nodded. I didn't want to speak. I wanted to come, so badly.
Suddenly, I felt his clothed form press against my throbbing backside as his arm came around me. His hand circled my leaking, twitching cock. I cried out and struggled, so desperate to thrust into that warm grip. But he didn't let me right away. Instead, he watched me pant and whine and struggle for a few minutes before he started moving his hand back and forth on me slowly. I made a desperate sound as I felt the pleasure build.
"That's it." He spoke as he leaned over me and jerked me off. "What a good boy you've been, Tate...what a very good boy..."
I yelled, feeling my cock spasm in his hand as I shot a thick and copious load all over the floor. It lasted a long time as James kept up his slow, firm stroking and because the buildup had been so intense.
Finally, my body stopped shaking and I felt a languid peace come over me. "Thank you, Sir," I sighed.
He gave my ass a light slap, making me wince. He came around to stand in front of me, holding out the hand that was coated with my seed.
"Clean it," he said hoarsely. Our eyes met as I lapped up my own spunk. The intimacy of the act was startling as this powerful and very attractive older man watched me clean my own juice off his hand. Heaven.
He undid my bonds and told me to pull up my pants. Then he made me kneel before him.
"Undo my jeans."
"Yes, Sir." I did so. He wore no underwear, so his cock stood thick and hard before me. I made an eager noise in my throat as I glanced up at him.
He clasped his hands behind his hips and nodded, thrusting himself forward. I didn't need any more prompting. I took him gently in my mouth, cupping his balls with my hand, and swirled my tongue around him.
"Fuck, yes," he murmured. "You are so talented in this department, young man."
I groaned in lieu of saying thank you and took him deeper, swallowing as much of him as I could.
He hissed and groaned. I knew it wouldn't take long. He gasped and growled as I sucked him, letting me know what he liked and what he really liked. Before long I had him on the edge and I doubled the force and speed of my throat work. Suddenly he grunted. I glanced up to see his expression barely change as his juice spurted into me. He watched me from under hooded lids as I struggled to swallow his release.
Once he finished I let his cock slide out of my mouth and licked my lips, daring to give him a small smile.
He grinned back at me, tucking himself up, and said, "That was lovely. I'm glad I was able to give you a little taste of what's to come next weekend."
"Yes, Sir. I can hardly wait, Sir," I said.
We gazed at each other, both of us thinking about all the possibilities for our next visit to this room.
*****
Lying in bed that night, trying but unable to go to sleep, I thought about how I had originally met James.
A friend introduced me to the well-known Dom. A friend that I'd "played" with a few times and who thought that James might be able to give me more of what I wanted than he could. James had initially been a little cold toward me, until my friend told him I really enjoyed cum play and filthy language. At that point he said he'd give me a go. He invited me for an "interview" and once I completed his requirements for a comprehensive STD screen, I joined him for an introductory session.
It had gone well. I behaved myself and demonstrated a high level of pain tolerance and a definite affinity for bottoming as a sub. He'd been impressed and told me so. He liked my body very much, and told me that too. He suggested I put my name down on his waiting list. That had been four months ago.
And now my turn had come. I would spend Friday evening, all day Saturday and all day Sunday with the Dom of my dreams. He would send me the information and preparation instructions by email so that I knew what to expect.
I already knew what to expect-a weekend of extreme kinkiness and submission at the powerful hands of James Lucas.
How the hell would I get any sleep this week?
The Cross and the Trinity #2
Chapter One
My So-Called Life
Driving home from another boring workshop, I cranked up the tunes on the radio. I yawned and shook my head wearily. What a fucking week. Okay, who was I kidding? What a fucking three months.
My workload had doubled. My boss, believing that my intelligence and capabilities automatically signified an interest and ambition to succeed, had put me on the fast track, learning to be an associate consultant in the business. I’d been working long days and frequent weekends, as he’d expanded his clientele and increased his business reach. I was exhausted.
To top it off, my dad lay in the hospital dying of Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD) and advanced Parkinson’s; the former the result of fifty decades of incessant cigarette smoking, the latter a cruel chance of fate and genetics. My mom was a basket case. My brother Frank wasn’t much help. He had a wife and three kids to look after. He did what he could, when he could, but I knew he had other responsibilities. The truth was, so did I. And I wasn’t sure I was fulfilling them very well these days.
Maybe I was being paranoid. My partner, Sebastian, seemed as loving and attentive as ever when I was home. I wasn’t sure what he did when I was at work. He had his job, true, but that didn’t take up nearly as much time as mine, and I worried about him being bored and lonely a lot of the time.
Anyway, I was determined to change things, because I missed him.
Our first six months of living together had been wonderful. We’d both been deep in the throes of newfound love and passion, heady indeed, and found that this gave us the energy and imperative to make the practical adjustments work. We were well suited to live together.
I loved to cook and Sebastian loved to eat. I still didn’t know how he managed to stay so slim eating as much as he did, but at least I had him eating a little healthier now, although he still snuck junk food in whenever he could. He did like to jog, and sometimes I’d go with him. I called it “walking the dog” when I did, which gave him a little giggle.
Sebastian had a penchant for dress up role-play. He’d discovered pup play online and owned enough gear to make this a fascinating pastime. He liked to play at being my pup when in the mood, and I enjoyed rubbing his belly whenever he wanted me to. This usually led to sex, no matter how much I tried to be good. He didn’t seem to mind. He would ask, on occasion, to have some platonic playtime, but not very often. He got worked up as much as I did whenever he put the hood on and tail in. It seemed a match made in Heaven.
I pulled into my parking spot and got out of the car, grabbing my briefcase and jacket, and walked quickly to the building’s entrance. Maybe we could go out for supper, then to a movie or something. We’d had so little time together lately.
Sebastian lifted his head from the magazine he was reading when I keyed myself in. “You’re home!”
I checked my watch. Six thirty-five. Earlier than I’d been home all week.
“I know. Amazing right?” I shook my head. “How’s it going?”
“Fine.” He stood up and approached me, moving in for a hug and a kiss. I ruffled his blond mop of hair affectionately.
“Do you feel like going out for supper? We haven’t tried that new Indian place yet.”
Sebastian smiled happily. “That sounds great.”
Located in a small strip mall at the edge of Ottawa’s swanky Alta Vista neighborhood, the restaurant was cozy and warm, decorated with an eastern elegance. The tantalizing aroma of Indian spices filled the small space while sitar music played softly in the background.
We were seated at a small table in the corner, which suited me perfectly. I wanted to enjoy an intimate meal with my boyfriend for once.
“Mmmm, I’m salivating already,” Sebastian murmured while perusing the menu.
“You’d do Pavlov proud, pup,” I said, enjoying his blush and shy grin. His eyes met mine and I remembered an intimate moment from…a couple of weeks back? Had it been that long?
I rubbed my fingers against my forehead, the fatigue of my long hours getting to me.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Just tired.”
The waiter came and took our drink order, then returned quickly. We told him what we wanted off the menu.
“Hot, please. Pretend we’re family,” I said.
The waiter grinned, writing quickly. “You can take it?”
“We can take it.”
“Of course, sir.” He gathered our menus and headed to the kitchen.
We sipped our drinks, enjoying the intimate warmth of being together in a soothing environment.
“This is nice. I miss this,” Sebastian murmured, gazing at me with emotion.
“I know. Me too.”
“You’ve just been working so much,” he said. “When is he going to let up on you, Tate?”
I shrugged. “Soon, I hope. I’ll talk to him on Monday. When I accepted the promotion I didn’t realize how much extra work there’d be.”
“You do realize we haven’t had sex for three weeks?” he said somberly.
“Um…really? I guess…really?” I sounded like the idiot I was.
He nodded. “I just miss that too, y’know? Your job’s important. I get that. But what about me?”
“You don’t think you’re important?”
“I wonder, sometimes.”
“Sebastian. You’re very important to me. I love you, you know that?” I hesitated. “I’m just kind of distracted right now. With work, with what’s going on with my Dad.”
He nodded. “How is he?”
“Same. Cruddy. I wish he would just…”
“Don’t say that.”
“He’s suffering.”
“I know.”
“My mom’s going out of her mind.”
“I know. I talked to her last week. She was pretty upset. She went out with my mom and Granny Jo for supper. I think it helped a bit, but she sounded so exhausted and stressed.”
“She did? That was nice of them to ask her.”
“Haven’t you talked to her recently?”
I shook my head. “It’s been a crazy week. I’ll call her tomorrow.”
The waiter brought our food and we ate slowly, enjoying the flavors and heat of the traditional dishes. The flavorful food rejuvenated my energy and when the meal was over I wasn’t ready to go home.
“Wanna go dancing?” I asked my blue-eyed cutie after we left the warmth of the restaurant. “We haven’t done that in awhile.”
He grinned and grabbed my hand. “Sure!”
Sebastian had gotten over his fear of public dancing and now loved to shake his booty for me whenever possible. He was a great little mover—I just had to keep the hands of all the other horny men off him.
“The Lookout?” I suggested.
“Isn’t Friday night Ladies’ Night?”
I shrugged. “So? I don’t want to share you with anyone anyway.” I pulled him over to me in the darkness of the parking lot and grabbed his ass.
“Fuck,” he hissed, rubbing himself against me. I felt the hardness of his cock under the denim of his jeans.
Our lips came together and we kissed desperately, our bodies reaching for something elusive and rare. It had been a long time.
Turned out dancing dirty together in a room full of hot lesbians was exactly what we needed. They urged us on, realizing no doubt that we were desperate for each other. They took turns with each of us too, as if to prolong our separation and drive us even crazier. By the time we managed to extricate ourselves it was near midnight and it seemed I would die if I didn’t get Sebastian into bed as soon as possible.
I drove home, my right hand moving between his thigh and his crotch the entire way. Sebastian looked as if he might explode or faint or something.
We didn’t make it to the bed. Half an hour after getting home we lay entwined, naked, on the living room floor rug, giggling like naughty schoolgirls.
“Holy shit, Tate, that was awesome.”
I kissed him hard, hinting that I’d be ready for another round in a few minutes.
“Again? Really?” he mumbled against my lips as my hand found his cock and gently coaxed it back to life.
§ § §
The following day we woke up feeling satisfied and relaxed, a nice change from the stressful past few months. We stayed in bed, snuggling, until the sun was high and our stomachs began to rumble.
It was a wonderful interlude of intimacy in a crazy schedule and it didn’t last long.
I called my mom that evening while Sebastian was watching TV in the bedroom. “Hey Mom, how’s it going?”
“Oh, hi, sweetie. Okay, I guess. I spoke to Sebastian last week. He says you’ve been working late a lot.”
“Yeah. They offered me a promotion about three months ago. I took it before realizing how much more work it would be.”
“Oh.” She sounded like she wanted to say more.
“What?”
“It’s not…anything else?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I mean, you’re not seeing someone else?”
I clenched my fist against my thigh. “Tell me you have not been worrying about my relationship on top of everything else.”
“Sebastian sounded so sad and lonely when I spoke to him.”
“Mom. I’m not cheating on him. I’m working my ass off for people who have very high expectations of me.”
“Okay. I believe you. But, I think Sebastian has high expectations of you too. And having been in that same place for a good long while, I guess my paranoia got the better of me.”
“I’m not cheating, Mom. I’m too damn tired to cheat. And why would I want to?”
She laughed. “Well, that’s good. I think Sebastian’s a good fit for you.”
“You don’t have to tell me that. This job on the other hand…”
“You need to talk to your boss. Let him know the workload is affecting your personal life. Most supervisors are sensitive to things like that.”
“I’m going to talk to him on Monday. I can’t go on like this.”
“Well, I hope you get it sorted out. It’d be a shame to quit after all the time you’ve put in there.”
“Yeah, I know. I don’t want to quit. I just don’t want to work so much.” I toyed with the top of my club soda can. “Did you see Dad today?”
“Yes. Actually, I just came from there.”
“How is he?”
“The same. I keep thinking he’ll start to go one way or the other, but he’s always the same.” When she spoke again, her voice was very quiet. “Tate, this could go on for months.”
I sighed. “I know.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I’ll go see him tomorrow.”
“He’d like that. Why don’t you bring Sebastian with you?”
“Well…I don’t…”
“Look, honey, I know he’s never been hugely supportive of your lifestyle. But he’s really in no position to judge you right now. He’ll just be glad to see you.”
“Okay.”
“Love you.”
“Me too.”
I hung up the phone, struggling with my emotions all of a sudden. It was too much. The pressure at work, my dad in the hospital, my mom stressing out, and Sebastian needing me. I had to get out of here.
I grabbed my keys and put on my boots. Sebastian came out of the bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“I just—I’m going for a walk,” I muttered, not wanting to linger in case the threatening tears emerged.
I felt bad about taking off, but I needed to breathe. I really did need to speak with my boss, because this schedule was killing me. But if I was honest, it wasn’t just work that was affecting my relationship with Sebastian. I hadn’t lied to my Mom. I wasn’t actually cheating on Sebastian. But I felt like I was.
The dreams had started about three or four months after we’d moved in together, and James Lucas was in every one of them.
I didn’t always see him in the dream, but I knew he was there. I knew because of what I felt in the dream. And what I felt was indescribable.
It reminded me of that last weekend I’d spent with him. The sense of trust and submission and testing. Him testing me, testing the boundaries of what I would do for him. I had done everything he’d asked of me. And I would do more—much more.
I felt my cock swell just thinking about the tenor of those dreams. They always involved restraint of some kind. And I was always on the edge, ready to come, but not allowed. In some of the dreams, I saw him as he teased me. In others, I only heard his voice. And in a few, he was simply a nearby presence, waiting and watching, while I struggled with my captive desire.
These dreams made me feel guilty even though I knew everyone had sex dreams about people other than their live-in-lovers/spouses. To dream of a variety of people wouldn’t have bothered me so much. But it was always him. And if I was honest with myself I’d admit that I missed and desired him in my waking world as well.
But why? Why did he haunt my dreams at night and my thoughts during the day?
I couldn’t imagine my life without Sebastian. The intimacy we had and the sex we enjoyed, when I wasn’t so busy and tired, was mind blowing. He was my lover and my friend—and my pup when the mood hit us. And he was even my Dom from time to time.
However, no Dom could compare to James.
Of course, what were the odds I’d ever see him again? I refused to seek him out. I’d told Sebastian that it was over with James, and I’d meant it. I wouldn’t jeopardize our relationship by hooking up with someone else, let alone the man who’d declared his desire to possess me.
Maybe these dreams were simply the manifestation of my frustrated desire for Sebastian, since work was keeping me from enjoying him as much as I liked. Perhaps, if I made an effort to alter my crazy work schedule so that I could spend more time with my boy, the dreams would go away.
After I’d burned off some of the latent anxiety I returned to the apartment and found Sebastian playing a videogame, his bare feet on the coffee table and a cup of tea beside him.
“Hey,” he greeted me distantly, no doubt ticked off by my hasty exit.
The walk had cleared my head a bit and all I wanted to do was curl up on the couch with my boy. Well, maybe that wasn’t all.
I came up behind him and bent down, nuzzling his neck and ear the way that I knew he loved. “Hi beautiful.”
He giggled. “Good walk?”
“Yes. Sorry. I just needed some fresh air.”
“And what do you need right now?” he asked, gazing up at me with a twinkle in his eye.
I slid my hand down the inside of his t-shirt and teased his nipple. “Some fresh meat.”
He groaned, dropping the controller.
I tilted his chin up, kissing him hard. Taking my hand out of his shirt, I began to unbutton his jeans. I still leaned over him and the couch, my crotch pressing against the back of his head. He tilted his head backward as his hands came up and started working my fly.
Soon I had his cock out. His vocal response made me even more eager.
“Oh my God, Tate…that feels so good.”
He’d managed to release me from the confines of my own jeans and now worked my cock from underneath. I moved my hand faster on him.
“Oh…fuck yeah…” I groaned, all the tension I’d felt earlier concentrated in my dick and balls. Sex therapy. It’s really the answer to stress of all kinds.
We worked each other in this position until it became too uncomfortable.
“Get naked and come to the bedroom,” I ordered breathlessly.
“No,” he said, struggling to zip his jeans.
I stared at him, confused.
“You get naked and come to the bedroom.”
I hesitated, trying to catch up as he switched on me. It sent a thrill from my head to my toes.
“Now,” he said firmly. I felt the smile emerge on my face.
“Yes, Sir,” I mumbled, scrambling out of my clothes while Sebastian walked calmly to our room, glancing back to make sure I was coming. As soon as I had my clothes off, I followed.
A Numinous Light #3
Convocation
"James, have you seen my purple tie?" Sebastian asked frantically from our bedroom down the hall, the former guest room we'd originally used when visiting. "We're supposed to be there forty-five minutes in advance and I can't find it."
"Can he borrow a purple tie?" I said to James as I watched him adjust his blue one. "He'll never find it."
James nodded. "Have a look. I'm sure there's one that will do."
I went to his closet and looked through his large collection of ties until I found one that approximated the purple shade of Sebastian's. As I walked past James on my way out of the room I whistled in appreciation, winking when he looked my way.
He smiled. "You look damn good yourself, you know."
"Why, thank you," I said, bowing before taking the needed tie down the hall to my other boyfriend.
When I stepped into our bedroom, I saw Sebastian on his knees looking under the bed.
"Here. James has one you can wear."
He looked up at me, the flop of his blond hair concealing one blue eye. "Oh good. I don't know where mine's got to."
Sebastian was not the neatest person when it came to putting his clothes away. Sure, he'd clean and organize the kitchen from top to bottom when he was stressed, but the bedroom was another matter.
"What time is it?" he asked as he stood up and took the tie from me. "Are we going to be late?"
"Would you relax? We've got lots of time."
"But we're supposed to be there--"
"You'll get there when you get there. It'll just mean you won't have to stand in line for half an hour waiting for the ceremony to start."
A year after we moved into James' home, Sebastian quit his job at PetLuv and took a full time program at Algonquin College in Graphic Design. James and I supported him financially while he went to school because we didn't want him working weekends and evenings when we would want to spend time together. Tonight's Convocation ceremony, the culmination of three years study and perseverance, was stressing him out.
His fingers fumbled with the knot so I stepped forward. "I'll do it."
As I deftly knotted the purple tie I couldn't help admiring the strong neck and broad shoulders of my blond lover. He looked so sharp all dressed up for his graduation and I felt so proud. It took a lot of guts to decide to change one's life in a significant way. The hard work he'd put into the past three years had paid off. He was top of his graduating class and already had a few solid clients and jobs lined up for the next three months.
When I'd finished I stepped back to observe him. He adjusted his suit jacket nervously. "Well?"
"You'll do."
He smiled. "Thanks. I guess we'd better go."
* * *
The NAC lobby was almost empty by the time we arrived. Sebastian said a quick goodbye and made his way backstage where the graduates were supposed to line up.
The Mezzanine level was packed so we went up to the first balcony and were lucky enough to find two seats together. As we looked over the program, James said, "I feel like a proud parent today. Is that perverted?"
I laughed. "Probably."
"It's a shame his mother and sister couldn't make it."
I nodded. "Well, they've got their hands full right now."
Sebastian's mom had gone to visit his sister in Toronto to help look after her first grandchild, a little boy named Duncan. Otherwise she, at least, would have made it.
"When should we give him his graduation gift?" I asked.
"I brought the tickets. We can present them as soon we see him after the ceremony."
We had racked our brains for a unique graduation gift. Finally, James had stumbled upon the perfect idea--a helicopter tour of Ottawa. Some co-worker of his had raved about how fantastic this tour had been, and James asked the name of the company. We bought tickets for all three of us. Our tour was booked for tomorrow morning at ten a.m. and so far the weather forecast looked good. They'd warned us the trip could be cancelled with little notice if the pilot had concerns.
The ceremony finally began. Since Doucette fell early in the alphabet, it didn't take long for Sebastian's name to be called. He strode proudly up to the college President, shook his hand, and took his envelope, with a big smile on his handsome face. He looked out at the audience, squinted as if trying to see us, then turned and strode off stage. I'd waved even though there'd be no chance he'd see us behind the spotlights. I remembered my own graduation ceremony and how proud I'd felt to have accomplished such a worthwhile goal.
We filed into the lobby after the ceremony for some light refreshments. As I reached for a brownie I heard my name and turned. Sebastian came quickly from the backstage door, holding his cap as his robe ballooned out behind him.
"There he is. The college graduate," James said proudly, grabbing Sebastian's hand and pulling him in for a hug and quick kiss on the cheek.
"Thanks. Phew. I'm glad that's over," he said, his face flushed from the heat and excitement.
"Hey, you did great. Congratulations, babe," I murmured, hugging him and licking his neck surreptitiously.
"Thanks. Is that a brownie?"
"Here, you can have it."
"Thanks!"
"Do you want something to drink? I'm going to the bar," James said.
James went off to get drinks while I stood with Sebastian, watching friends and relatives greet graduates as they emerged.
"So? How does it feel?"
He grinned. "Pretty damn good. I'm so glad I did it."
"So am I. Your talents were wasted at PetLuv my friend."
"No kidding. It was fun for awhile, but I definitely didn't want to have to work there forever."
After we'd had something to eat and drink, James took some photos of Sebastian in his robe and graduate cap, holding his certificate. Then we gave him the tickets we'd bought for the helicopter tour.
"What? Really? Holy shit, this is gonna be amazing! Thanks guys. You didn't have to do this. I couldn't have done this without you and now you're showering me with gifts."
"Don't talk about showering, please," James murmured with a stern look. "I'm trying to be good."
"Thank you, really," Sebastian said, taking his cap off and using it to block curious eyes as he kissed first me, and then James, on the lips. "I fucking love you both."
* * *
At ten o'clock the following morning we met with our helicopter pilot, an eleven-year veteran of the skies named Yvonne, with a purple streak in her hair and a silver ring in her eyebrow. Middle aged, voluptuous and pretty, with a mouth like a sailor and the humor to match, she quickly put us at ease.
James said he'd hold my hand if I was scared. I told him to fuck off because I wasn't scared. I'd just never been up in a helicopter before.
Sebastian, typically for him, acted like an excited puppy. His foot tapped with excess energy while we listened to Yvonne's safety briefing.
Finally, it was time to board.
"Who would like to sit up front?" Yvonne asked, looking pointedly at me.
"Yeah, no thanks. I'm pretty sure Sebastian would like that spot."
"Absolutely!" he yelped, climbing in to the front seat. Yvonne showed him how to put on the seatbelt while James and I got in behind.
"Please be careful not to press any buttons or switches, whether deliberately or inadvertently as you move," Yvonne said, pointing out the panels beside the seats. We fastened ourselves in and Yvonne passed us each our headphone sets. She checked that we could all hear and be heard before starting up the machine.
"Okay. Let's go, huh?"
The experience was one I would never forget. As the helicopter lifted off the landing pad I suffered a brief moment of fear before becoming mesmerized by the majesty of the landscape falling away from us.
"Oh, wow…" Sebastian said as we rose into the sky.
The feeling of weightlessness and freedom made me giddy, so I did end up reaching for James' hand. He took it quietly, smiling at me with assurance.
I'd never seen Ottawa Gatineau from this perspective before. The picturesque views of water and land stunned me with their beauty. Best of all was the approach over the Ottawa River to the Parliament Buildings as they overlooked the cliff and the city of Gatineau. Yvonne slowly circled the historic seat of the Canadian Government, viewing it at all angles before heading over the city.
When we passed over our neighborhood James momentarily regretted not putting a big "Congratulations Sebastian!" sign on our roof.
"Next time," I joked.
"Right."
We really didn't talk much, since the views were so astounding and we'd all brought cameras. Yvonne pointed out the landmarks and explained our flight path in a clear, slightly accented voice. She checked in on us a few times to make sure nobody felt sick or uneasy. We assured her we were all enjoying ourselves immensely.
"Good. Is this a birthday gift to someone?" she asked, nodding at Sebastian.
"Graduation present," James said with a smile.
"My son just got his degree as well," Yvonne said. "Such a relief and it makes you so proud."
James and I glanced at each other, neither wanting to correct her. How would we explain that Sebastian was actually James' lover, not his son? Neither of us wanted to make our pilot uncomfortable mid-flight, so we simply smiled and nodded. Sebastian didn't even seem to hear, so enraptured was he in the entire experience.
The tour took about an hour. When we finally landed back at the airfield in Gatineau, all three of us expressed how impressed we'd been with the trip.
"Well, you'll have to come again," Yvonne said. "Who's got a birthday coming up?"
Sebastian and I looked at James. His fiftieth was just around the corner, but we had something else planned for that.
James laughed. "Well, I do. But I think it's going to be a quiet affair," he said, gazing at us meaningfully.
Heading home in the car, nobody spoke much. It had been an experience that was difficult to sum up in words.
"Shall we grab a bite to eat? It's eleven thirty," James said.
"Where?" Sebastian asked.
"You choose. We'll make it part of your gift."
"Jesus. You guys are making too much of this," he muttered, embarrassed.
"Hey, it's the first time we've helped anybody graduate. We probably won't be having kids so this is our moment, right James?" I explained, remembering Yvonne's comment.
"Exactly."
"So don't ruin it for us. Where do you want to eat?"
"Fine. Let's go to Cora's." There was a pregnant pause. "You said I could choose," Sebastian pointed out.
"Well, I…" James began.
"You know, it's just that…" I tried to explain.
"My sister and I eat there whenever she's in town. The food's great."
"Cora's it is," James said, turning the corner onto Bank Street.
It wasn't that we didn't like the food at Cora's. It would be hard to find fault with the waffles, omelets, and pancakes loaded with fresh fruit, English cream, and syrup. Let's just say that the vibe was more Old Folk's Home than Urban Eatery. This never seemed to bother Sebastian--nothing much bothered Sebastian when it came to eating--but James and I found the atmosphere a bit…suburban for our tastes.
At any rate, this was Sebastian's celebration and we wouldn't ruin it for him. Of course, we'd have to refrain from any obvious displays of intimacy over brunch, since we'd be likely to get at least a few rude stares and loud comments. It seemed that when people reached a certain age they no longer cared much what anyone thought--they'd say whatever they liked. And since most of them were deaf, they'd say it loudly.
So James and I accompanied Sebastian into the restaurant in question, requesting a booth and hoping for one in the corner or at least away from curious onlookers. Sometimes people in their senior years would go looking for trouble. Maybe their lives weren't as interesting as they used to be, and a self righteous exchange with their companions about the three men sitting together in booth five was just what they needed. Of course, I was generalizing. Sebastian's Granny Jo had been quick-witted, world-wise, and savvy to a lot of things, and strangely liberated for someone her age. But we knew she was the exception.
Since no booths were available, we were directed to a table quite close to other diners, most notably a large group of elderly men and women who seemed to be celebrating a retirement. Perhaps the curious glances we received were due to the fact that Sebastian and I were the youngest people in the restaurant, and also kind on the eye. And James, well, James attracted attention everywhere he went.
"Hmm, I'm going to get an omelet," James said, perusing the menu. "What about you?"
"The Belgian waffle is calling my name," I said.
"Sebastian?"
"The Fourth of July looks good. Crepes, French toast, and fruit."
"Wonderful." He looked around for a server. "I really need a coffee."
"Me too," I said.
Finally, a server saw us and filled our mugs. "Sorry, it's a zoo in here today. What would you gentlemen like?"
When she left we sat quietly, sipping our coffees. It was strange but I felt more relaxed in this place. I didn't feel like I had to impress anyone. The fact that I had all my own teeth seemed to already give me points.
"So what do you want for your birthday, big boy?" I asked James.
"A special session in the loft will be just fine."
"Well, that's a given. What else?"
"I don't need anything else."
"Are you sure?" Sebastian said. "Any electronics you need? Or a new wallet or something?"
James made a face. "I like to choose my own accessories. And my electronics are mostly up to date. But thank you."
"Come on, James. It's a pretty significant birthday. We'd like to do something special," I insisted.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "It's only a number."
I blinked. "Are you worried about turning fifty?" I couldn't believe James worried about anything.
"Of course not."
Sebastian and I looked at him, not believing his answer for once.
"What?"
"You are worried. You're worried about turning fifty," I said, still shocked to see a chink in James' confident social armor.
He laughed, but it sounded forced. "I'm not worried. Why would I be worried?"
I gazed at him, assessing. Then I shrugged. "Yeah, why would you be worried? It's just a number."
"Exactly. It's not like I'm going to wake up as somebody different."
"I certainly hope not," I said. "Still. Only ten more years and you'll be sixty."
Sebastian's eyes widened. James' gaze turned steely.
"Watch yourself, Tate."
"Aha. You are worried."
"I'm not worried," he said firmly. "But you should be."
"What are you gonna do? Put me over your knee right here?" I whispered across the table.
Sebastian began to look panicked. "Jesus, don't tempt him!" he hissed, looking at James to gauge his reaction.
James sat very quietly, staring at me while I looked back at him. Oh man, he was too quiet. He picked up his coffee and took a sip, then placed the cup back down. It clinked on the Formica tabletop. "I just might. But I wouldn't want to cause someone to have a heart attack. Which would be a genuine risk in this place."
I gave Sebastian an "I told you so" look.
"However," James said slowly. "When we get home I may just have to remind you of proper manners."
My heart fell as I felt a sympathetic ache in my buttocks reminding me of spankings past.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I just want you to admit that you just might be a tiny bit anxious about turning fifty. Because there's a tiny chance we just might want to celebrate this milestone in your life."
He sighed again. "Is that really necessary?"
"It just might be."
"Fine. But no silly cakes in the shape of private parts or anything ridiculous like that. Please let me turn fifty with dignity."
I glanced at Sebastian. We'd never even thought of getting a penis cake for James' party. It was genius.
Not Your Average Romance.
I live in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada with my husband and two children. I have a BA in Psychology and a certificate in Dramatic Scriptwriting. I very much enjoy writing erotic fiction and exploring the vast arena of sexuality and relationships.
EMAIL: elizabeth@elizabethlister.ca
Beyond the Edge #1
The Cross & the Trinity #2
A Numinous Light #3
