Busted (11 page)

As Alex worked his pants off, Joe ran his nails lightly down Alex's sides and switched to the other nipple, this time biting. Alex arched up, grinding his erection into Joe. His pants weren't off, but they were at least open, and that was good enough.

Joe slid down Alex, his lips and tongue leaving a trail down the center of Alex's chest, his fingers stroking Alex's stomach. The smell of musk and sex got stronger as he got further down.

Alex had on a pair of black bikini briefs that were doing nothing to hide his erection. It was off to the left, covered, but barely. His dick was hard and straining against the fabric, forcing it away enough for Joe to see the precum dripping from the shrouded head. Even fully erect Alex's foreskin covered him completely. Joe liked that. He had a feral grin on his face.

Joe slipped his hands around Alex and moved his pants just far enough down to clear his ass. Alex was still arched, with just his heels and shoulders touching the carpet. Joe could hear him whimpering just a little.

Cupping each cheek with a hand for support, Joe pulled the band of Alex's underwear down with his teeth, letting it rub against his dick. As it was freed it lifted up, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Joe sucked on the underside as he shifted a little. He slid his knees forward and lifted Alex's ass, pulling him higher.

Joe was entranced. It was beautiful, erect and throbbing. Long enough and wide enough to fill him and bring him to earth-shattering orgasms, but that wasn't what he wanted now. Now he wanted to take Alex, take him and fuck him and make him scream.

Squeezing Alex's ass, Joe took the head of his cock in his mouth, wrapping his lips tight around it. Alex whimpered and bucked into Joe's mouth, but he held Alex still, growling around the dick in his mouth. Then, just to show he was in complete control Joe backed off a little, until his lips were almost to the tip of Alex's dick.

Then, slowly, he pushed down an inch, then bobbed back up; he jacked Alex off using only his lips. He kneaded Alex's ass just as slowly. That cock was the center of his universe right then. He was dimly aware that Alex was panting, that he was grabbing at the carpet, that he was begging Joe to go harder, or faster, or
anything.

Joe felt Alex on the edge, ready to explode. He dove down, taking the whole thing in his mouth, his nose nestling in the sparse pubic hair. He sucked and pulled back as Alex exploded. He suckled gently as Alex's orgasm spent itself, savoring the taste.

There were times when bringing Alex to an orgasm was enough to set Joe off. There was even a time when Joe had an orgasm just watching Alex get himself off.

This wasn't one of those times.

Joe backed away, lowering Alex to the ground. They were both breathing hard, Alex from exertion and Joe from lust. He stood up, looking at Alex. He was spread out on the carpet, shiny from sweat, his eyes closed. He still had his shirt partway on, and it made him look more naked than if he had nothing on. He looked… perfect. Joe wanted him so badly.

Joe pulled off his shirt, tossing it aside. He pulled his sweats loose and let them fall and puddle around his feet. He stepped out of them.

"I'm going to fuck you," he said to Alex. His voice was husky. Just saying it sent a shiver of lust down his spine.

"I'm going to take you and fuck you and make you mine," he said. He tore open a condom and slipped it on as he did.

Alex just gave him a languid smile and lifted his knees.

Joe quickly lubed himself up and dropped to his own knees. Hooking his left arm under Alex's right leg, he lifted and positioned himself and thrust inside in one motion. He'd never done that before. But he'd never been this aroused before.

His cock was so hard it hurt, so hard he didn't think he
could
come, not right then. He didn't care. He didn't need an orgasm, he needed to fuck. He needed to fuck Alex.

He did, wildly. Joe pounded into him, over and over, lifting Alex's knees over his shoulders. There was no sound in the apartment but the slapping of flesh and the small squeaks Alex made as Joe went faster, hard, tiny little thrusts straight across the prostate that made Alex quiver. Small, near orgasms washed over him.

The constant abuse brought his limp dick back to life. As he reached for it, Joe slapped his hands away. "Mine," he growled.

He slid his arms from under Alex's knees. Alex's legs instinctively wrapped around Joe's waist, and he fell forward, onto his chest. Joe grabbed him, arms around Alex's torso as he fucked over and over slamming into his ass.

Joe pulled Alex up and gave one last thrust as he came. He buried his scream into Alex's shoulder, then bit hard as the last shudders faded. He felt Alex come again, felt his cock twitch and spurt as it was mashed between them.

Spent, Joe slid off to one side. He slipped out of Alex but didn't let go his hold. Alex just lay there, eyes closed, whole body twitching. He was almost glowing, the effects of the orgasms he had still making him twitch.

Joe just smiled and pulled the comforter off the couch and over them as they lay together on the plush carpet.

"I love you, Alex," Joe whispered as they both fell asleep.

Tuesday
evening Joe was running late. Already 6:30, he had to meet Steve at the range for seven. There wasn't time for him to get home and change, so he was stuck as he was. He was pretty sure a suit wasn't appropriate dress to go learn how to shoot, but he didn't have a whole lot of choice.

The firing range was in a nondescript brick building by an industrial park on the far side of town. Joe managed to get there, but only with five minutes to spare. He saw Steve's car already parked around the side and pulled in next to it. Steve was in the car finishing off a burger.

"Hey," he said as Joe got out of the car. "You made it."

"Who could pass up a chance to make loud noises and put holes in things?"

"Right," Steve said. "I'll remember to stand behind you."

They walked into the building, Steve carrying a metal case. The guy working the front desk looked up as they walked up.

"Detective Russell. How's it going tonight?"

"Pretty good, Phil," Steve said. "Got a pair of lanes free tonight?"

He punched a few keys on his computer and looked at the screen. "It's been quiet. You can have seven and eight."

"Great. Can we throw Joe here on my membership?"

"Sure," Phil said. "Can I see your license please? And will you need anything?"

Joe fished out his license and handed it to Phil. "I don't know. Do I need anything?" he asked Steve.

"Give him a set of muffs and lenses for today." He waved the case at Phil. "I've got everything else this time."

"This time?" Joe asked. "You make it sound like I'll be back."

Steve smiled and patted Joe on the shoulder. "Oh, yeah, buddy, trust me. You'll be back."

Phil smirked as he handed over the ear protection and safety glasses. "I'll buzz you in," he said. The buzzer sounded and they went through a side door and down a hall.

The range was simple enough. It was a long cinderblock room with dividers marking off eight lanes. Track ran along the ceiling, and at the end were paper silhouettes with a bullseye in the center. Behind them was a table with a pile of replacement sheets, and at every lane there was a small table.

"I assume you understand the basic idea here, right?" Steve asked. It sounded like a stupid question, but he'd been tagged to give a gun safety course for the local boy scout troop one year and had learned not to make assumptions.

"Yeah. Point, shoot. How hard can it be?"

Steve shook his head and smiled to himself. This was going to be fun. He took a few minutes to run through the range safety rules.

"Okay, got it," Joe said when Steve finally finished. "Bullet comes out the end with the hole, leave it unloaded if I'm not going to use it, don't point at anything I don't want to kill, don't trust the safety, guns I haven't checked are always loaded, TV lies."

"Not exactly how I'd put it," Steve said. Joe was being flip, and he found it a little irritating. He wasn't taking this nearly seriously enough, and Steve was tempted to call the whole thing off. If Joe was going to be dating Chris he had better learn to use a gun, so Steve put the annoyance aside. Barely.

"So when do I get to shoot something?" Joe was both nervous and excited. A little part of him felt guilty at the excitement – there was something deeply uncivilized about all this. The larger part wanted to get its hands on something that made loud bangs and put holes in stuff.

"I think I'd better go first," Steve said. Up close demonstrations tended to get people's attention. He hoped it'd get Joe's. "Muffs on and stand back."

Joe did, standing to the rear and left. Steve drew his service pistol and squeezed off four quick shots. Even with the earmuffs on it was loud. The smell of cordite hit him.

Steve hit the button to pull the target back. There were four holes, cleanly placed in the center of the silhouette's chest. He took it down and replaced it with a fresh one.

"Your turn, I think," Steve said. Joe was only going to get one bullet to start.

Steve popped open the case he'd brought. There were three pistols in it, two semi-automatics and a shiny chrome .45 magnum. He found the bigger gun too awkward to use in most situations, but it drew the eye. It also had a hell of a kick if you weren't expecting it.

"Can I try that one?" Joe asked, pointing at the .45, just as Steve expected. He was so excited he was almost bouncing.

"Sure thing, Dirty Harry," Steve said. He took out the pistol and handed it to Joe.

"Heavy," Joe said as his hands dipped with the unfamiliar weight. Steve was happy to see that Joe was being careful where it was pointing. "How do I check and see if it's loaded?"

"It's unloaded," Steve said.

"Right, fine. 'Guns I haven't checked are always loaded'. How do I check?"

That made Steve feel better. He took the thing from Joe, cracked it open to show him, set the safety, and slid a single bullet in.

Joe carefully took the thing. He was almost a caricature of safety as he did it. Steve didn't laugh, but only just barely.

"Stance, point, relax, squeeze. Got it?"

With two hands on the gun, Joe tried to emulate Steve's easy stance, but he didn't manage. He was suddenly nervous. The weight of the gun made it more real than it had been. He was too tense, and worried he was going to start shaking.

"It's okay, Joe, you're doing fine," Steve said. His voice was calm, and helped Joe relax a little. "Point, relax, squeeze."

Joe pointed and squeezed. He was facing straight at the target, his arms and legs were too tense, and he was rocking forward on the balls of his feet. The gun went off with an ear-shattering bang and a solid kick. Unfortunately for Joe, he wasn't prepared for the combination. He startled and jumped, and managed to land flat on his ass.

Steve broke out laughing, though he noticed Joe had the presence of mind to hold onto the gun and keep it pointed down-range.

"You expected that," Joe said, the accusation thick in his voice.

"No," Steve choked out through his laughter. "I can't believe… Nobody's ever done that. Grandmothers. I've taught grandmothers, and girl scouts. And
Brownies!
"

Joe glared at him. "You're a bastard, you know that?"

Steve just grinned.

Joe handed him the pistol back. He shook his hands a little. They were still tingling.

"Ready to give up?"

Joe snorted. "Not hardly. If I gave up every time I got knocked on my ass or made a fool of myself I sure as hell wouldn't have gotten anywhere. I don't
give
up," he growled.

Steve gave him an appraising look. "I don't suppose you do," he said. "Try something smaller?"

"Yeah," Joe replied. "Guess I'm not such a size queen after all."

The smaller gun was much easier to handle, and while Joe wasn't exactly competent by the end of their session, at least he stopped flinching every time he pulled the trigger.

The whole evening had left Joe confused. He still wasn't sure why Steve was doing this, going out of his way to spend time with him, and he still hadn't said anything about what happened the previous Sunday. He was tempted to leave it be, but he couldn't. He found he liked Steve, and needed to know where he stood.

"Steve," Joe said as they left the range. "About Saturday…"

"Oh, right," Steve said. "Same time. Chicken okay with you?"

"Sure, and I'll bring some potato salad. I meant last Saturday, though," Joe said.

"Ah," Steve said knowingly. Unfortunately for Joe he didn't say anything else.

He was suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Me kissing Chris. Um…"

"Yeah, about that," Steve said. "You put on quite a show. Got Mary all worked up."

"Oh, god, I'm sorry," Joe said, covering his face with one hand. He was deeply embarrassed, and was sure she hated him. It wouldn't be the first time someone he'd met had a really bad reaction to seeing two guys kissing.

"Hell, are you kidding? She practically dragged me upstairs and screwed me silly after you left. God, I was walking funny the next day and I've still got a hickey here," he said, tugging at his collar.

"Ewww, gross, breeder sex," Joe said, averting his eyes and waving his hands. "No details, I still have to eat dinner."

"Bastard," Steve said. He was laughing, and cuffed Joe on the shoulder.

His watch beeped. "Crap, I've gotta go. Seriously, things are fine, and I promise we'll go inside next time you kiss Chris," he said. Steve got into his car and pulled right out.