Ay: Şubat 2023

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Author’s Note: The fictitious characters in this story are all 18 years of age or older.

It started out as an adventure, a low budget road trip as it were. After two weeks it had evolved into nothing short of a nightmare. We had been trying to flag down a ride all day. Now it was getting dark and the temperature was falling fast. How did we get stuck in this hell-hole? Freezing cold, no money, no food, and very little to bundle up with. It looked like we were in for another really cold night on the Interstate.

“Thanks for stopping, Man!”

“Just throw your stuff in the back and get in.”

“Hold on a minute, my friend is coming too.”

“Not him, just you!”

“What do you mean? We’re traveling together so if he can’t go, I’m not going either.”

“Okay, he can come along…but you have to let me jack you off while I drive!”

I was dumbfounded. My first impulse was to step back and slam the door shut. I thought about it for a minute, we really needed a ride and besides, what could he do while driving? I mean, he couldn’t rape me or anything. I explained the situation to my buddy and he agreed, there hadn’t been any opportunities for getting a lift so we decided to accept his offer.

His car was a smaller, older station wagon with a bench seat. I crawled in first and had to scoot closer to this guy so my friend Chris, could squeeze in next to me. We took off down the highway, relieved to finally have a ride! The heater felt good on my frozen feet and I began to thaw.

At first, he didn’t talk to us but after a few miles he asked me where I was from. I told him that we were both from California and we were just traveling. We were headed east but didn’t really have a plan. Before long, the guy found my knee with his hand. “This is going to be really weird,” I thought to myself.

“You guys better not try nothing, you hear me?” With that, he began sliding his hand along the inseam of my pant leg. I looked up and saw Chris staring at us, first at the man’s hand, then at me. I could tell that he was every bit as uncomfortable as I was.

By now, our new friend was moving his hand closer to my crotch, searching for my dick that was tucked away in my jeans. “Undo your pants so I can see what you’ve got.” I unbuckled my belt, unsnapped my pants, and lowered my zipper. He reached his hand inside grabbing my prick through my underwear before wandering down to my balls. He was cupping them with his fingertips and rubbing my dick with the heel of his hand.

His large hands were calloused and dry. It wasn’t exactly comfortable. It took some time but eventually, I could feel myself getting harder. He tried to pull my dick out but just got frustrated. “Take them off!”

I lifted my butt off of the seat and slipped my jeans down to my ankles. He reached over and ripped my underwear off with one powerful tug! I was completely exposed with my penis pointing straight in the air! He wrapped his fist around my member and gave it a good hard squeeze. Looking over at my buddy, he said, “I need some lube over here, lean in and get him wet for me.”

I could see Chris gathering some spit in his mouth. As he leaned over, the man istanbul travesti released my cock and grabbed him by the hair before shoving his face to my crotch, effectively spearing his mouth with my erection. My friend couldn’t escape his grasp and was drooling all over me. Once he was released, he was frantically wiping out his mouth and spitting into his shirt sleeve. He was desperately trying to erase the taste of my dick and the memory of what had just happened!

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it? I’ll bet you boys are pretty familiar with sucking each other off. Tell me, which one of you is the bottom?” I told him that I didn’t know what that meant, we weren’t gay, just friends. He grabbed ahold of my cock again and began stroking it up and down. It felt okay but he was a little rough.

He wiped some of my precum and brought it to his tongue. After lubing his fingertips, he started working just the head. It was driving me crazy! He slid his fingers down my shaft until the tip hit his palm and then back up. He was caressing the underside of my knob with his fingertips and then down to my balls. This just made me harder! Oh God, it felt so good! I could feel my balls stirring and I squirmed a little as I sat there with this stranger working me towards an orgasm. He must have sensed that I was about to cum when he slowed to a snail’s pace, then removed his hand completely.

He reached for his belt, trying to undo his trousers but couldn’t manage while driving. “Undo my pants for me, Son,” he ordered me.

“That wasn’t part of the deal!” I protested.

“I’ll leave you two out here in the middle of fucking nowhere and let you freeze to death!” I complied and undid his pants for him. He fished out his cock and began fondling himself until he was sporting an impressive erection. “Put your hand here, Boy!” I tried not to look at him. He grabbed my wrist and brought my hand to his throbbing cock. “You do what I say, you hear me? Now make me cum!”

I reluctantly moved my hand up and down, caressing his thick shaft. “Give me some lube, Boy!” He wrapped his arm around the back of my head and brought my face to his lap. His cock was pointed straight at my mouth. “Lick it!” He demanded. I extended my tongue until I touched the tip. “That’s it, nice and easy. You ever wanted to suck a cock, Boy?” I shook my head, no. “Well you can suck Little Henry right here, right now!” He pressed my head down sliding his dick into my mouth. “Now suck, Boy!” I drew in my cheeks and he released my head to grab ahold of my cock. I was sliding my lips up and down his shaft trying not to break the suction. “Ooh, that feels good!” he moaned. It wasn’t so bad. I was in control and I liked how I was keeping him hard using just my mouth while he was jerking me off!

“Come over here, Son,” he was talking to Chris. “Put your lips right here,” indicating the head of my dick. “Do it, I said!” he yelled. Apparently resigned to his fate, Chris leaned towards me and bent over, taking the tip of my cock into his mouth. I was blowing this guy and my friend was blowing me while I was being jerked off at the same time! I knew he was getting ready to cum because his shaft istanbul travestileri began to pulse in my mouth. I didn’t want finish him like that so I raised up and continued stroking him with my hand. “Take it Boy, take it all in your mouth!” I protested but he grabbed my head and forced me down on him. He was thrusting, harder and faster while holding my head. He was so big! I couldn’t take it all. I thought I was going to choke to death!

I was helpless as he continued to ram my throat. Finally, he tensed up and “Arrrgh, Uhg, Mmmm, Ahhh,” he blasted his hot load into my mouth. I didn’t know where to spit. I sat up and leaned back as he kept jerking me off. I was on the verge of cumming. I think my buddy was really getting into it too. He had his pants undone and was helping himself as he followed this guy’s hand job up and down my shaft with his lips. I shot my wad into his mouth while he kept on stroking himself. He slid his lips from my dick, capturing my deposit. He sat up and started shooting cum all over himself and the guy’s car. “You better not spit, either one of you!” We looked at each other and gulped down the nut milk that was trapped in our mouths.

“We are going to stop up here and get some gas, so you guys get yourselves together.” He pulled into a truck stop, alongside the pump island. “You boys wait right here. I’m going to go inside to pay and get us something to eat.”

This was our chance to get away from him! Should we grab our stuff and run? Should we stay and risk being subjected to more of this guy’s fantasies? It was a tough decision. We decided that we didn’t want to freeze to death and he probably wasn’t going to kill us, at least not right away. As long as we did what he said, we should be okay.

He came back to the car carrying a large pizza. After filling the tank, he parked the car and we gorged ourselves on the truck stop pizza. It wasn’t bad. After eating, we both went inside and used the facilities before getting back on the road.

As we approached the car I shouted, “Shotgun!” meaning that I chose the outside passenger seat first. Chris was going to have to ride bitch this time. Once we slid inside the car, Henry decided that he was too tired to drive and volunteered Chris. He opened his door and told us to scoot over. He got in on the passenger side next to me. I slid as far over to Chris as I could but there was no escaping him.

The next few hours were uneventful as Chris drove and Henry passed out on my shoulder. His breath was overpowering so I turned away from him and focused on keeping Chris awake as he drove into the wee hours of the night. Henry had been sleeping pretty hard, even snoring at times. Suddenly, I felt his hand on my leg so I turned to look. He gazed up at me with a sinister grin and gave my leg a squeeze.

“You be still, Boy. I’m not going to hurt you.” He undid my pants and pulled them off of me. He began softly rubbing his hands along my thighs and up to my balls. He reached into his pocket and produced a small bottle of lubricant. He poured some on my cock and stroked it until it was nice and hard.

He undid his pants and took them off too. He kept travesti istanbul me hard as he worked his semi erect mast to full staff! “Get down on the floor, Son,” he ordered me. I got on my knees, facing him. He was fondling his balls and stroking his big dick just inches from my face. “Show me what a good little cocksucker you are!” I brought my lips to the tip and licked it. He tensed and took in a deep breath as I covered the helmet and explored it with my tongue. I slowly took more of his manhood into my mouth, flicking and sucking. It could feel it growing as he rhythmically thrust deeper and deeper!

“Now turn yourself around and rest your head up on the dashboard.” He grabbed my butt checks and spread them apart before sticking a finger up to my virgin hole. “Ooh boy, yer tight!” I cringed at the thought of what was to come. He took some more oil and worked his meaty digit into my rectum. I grabbed my cock for comfort as he pressed in more and more, widening my opening. He shoved his finger in even deeper before pulling it back out, replacing it with a larger one. He was stretching me and it kind of hurt. Pleasure and pain, what a concept! He pulled back out and took me by the waist, “Have a seat, young man,” as he lowered me onto his rock hard member. “Just ease yourself on down on it, a little at a time.” I was busy keeping rhythm with my hand. It was a good distraction from the burning sensation in my rear.

I felt the head pop in and the initial pressure subsided. He put his hands on my shoulders and began pressing down. I tried to resist but he was too strong. Intense pain washed over me, it felt like he was tearing me apart. “Yer doing good, Son. Now just rest like that for a bit then we’ll bring her home!”

He raised himself off of the seat with me on his lap, pressing me against the dashboard and windshield. He was on top of me and under me at the same time! He was shoving his cock into my ass harder and deeper. I lost my grip on myself and just held on, trying to escape in my mind! “This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening!” I cried to myself as he pummeled my back door.

The burning in my asshole subsided once he came. He was still rock hard as I could feel it stretching me but it no longer hurt like before. “You feel that, Boy?” How could I not? “That was one fun ride, wasn’t it?” What do you say, we do that again?” I didn’t say anything. “Aw, don’t be shy, let’s go!”

He reached around and took my cock in his hand and slowly slid his out part way, then back in. He was keeping time. Stroking my dick with his hand while stroking my asshole with his big cock. This felt much better and I was actually starting to let myself get into it. The combination of him jerking me off while reaming my ass, I didn’t want it to end!

I wanted to cum so bad. He kept it up, bringing me closer to the edge with each stroke. It was like I was being double penetrated. The feeling was euphoric. Faster and faster he went. My heart raced as the levels of pleasure stacked one intense layer on top of the last! “I’m going to cum, I’m cumming!” I was over the edge and he jammed his cock as far in as it would go and held it there. I felt him pulse over and over as he unloaded in me for the second time.

“Damn Son, yer a pretty good fuck! Now sit your ass back down and clean me up.” Chris had a weird smirk on his face, grabbing himself with one hand and steering with the other. He had been spared, for now!

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

—–

“Erf… Since when did it get so hot?”

Sorein grumbled, the naked husky lying back on the sofa, trying to find some kind of comfortable position, though the tube of precariously balanced sour cream and chive Pringles on his stomach had to be accounted for too. His grey fur was lightly mattered with sweat, the white of his belly darker in patches where it had soaked through, though there simply did not seem to be any relief from the heat at all.

“Since the A/C broke…”

His boyfriend, Victor, sprawled out across the floor similarly nude, his chin resting flat, though he only had an accompanying groan by way of reply. Even though the fox understood that there was nothing that they could do about the A/C until someone came by to fix it (he’d ask Sorein to call them again just to be sure), it didn’t stop him from grumbling about it. That was fair enough for anyone as he twitched, his tail scooting back and forth across the floor.

Yet Vic, only in his boxer shorts, had his eyes on his partner, the sweaty, musky, soft husky laid out across the sofa. It may have been hot but that made it even more alluring for him, his black nose twitching as he took in more and more of his boyfriend’s aroma.

“Mmm…”

Sorein’s ears pricked, half-rolling his head over to curiously look at his partner.

“What? What is it?”

The tube of Pringles on his belly jiggled, wobbled and tipped to the side, though they only rested against the back of the sofa, wedged there by the husky’s belly.

Crunch, crunch, crunch… The husky wasn’t about to stop snacking, even when it was so hot. That was partly why he was so surprised that his partner crawled over to him, despite the crumbs on the fluff of his chest, licking his lips.

“What? What is it?”

Sorein squirmed uncomfortably, the sensation of his fur sticking and clinging to him upsetting, as if he needed a shower — yet a constant one, water streaming over and over so that the mere passage of it cooled the heat from his skin. Their water bill, the only way that they could cool down at that time, was already sky-high, however, and there was little else to be done, or so he thought, though he was, at least, not snappy with the clinging embrace of sweat sticking to him.

Yet the chubby husky’s day was about to get a whole lot better as the fox whimpered and nuzzled into the husky’s neck, lapping away the sweat with a low moan, nose twitching as he inhaled more and more of Sorein’s musk.

“Mmm…” He breathed. “I know it’s hot, but you smell incredible…”

That was about all that the horny fox could istanbul travesti get out as his partner chuckled softly, pushing the Pringles aside, to be forgotten even as he chewed up the last one in his mouth. His belly wobbled sweetly as he dragged Vic over him, the discomfort of the weather forgotten for the moment, though few things could be better than what his fox boyfriend had instigated, he was quite sure.

They could have given up, tried to find somewhere else cool to stretch out, but their lusts were up, eyes on one another, grunting and pressing in close, the scent of sweat filling the air. Yet it was a teasing dance with the nostrils, cocks slipping out and a little plumper with blood, making themselves known as something more presented itself to them to pass the time.

Sorein growled playfully, ears twitching, his paw on the back of Vic’s neck. He shrugged as if to push the fox off, though Vic’s attention was not entirely unwelcome when it came to being a distraction. It was more fun to play the grouch though, to pretend to really be annoyed, especially considering how cloying and pressing the air around him felt.

“Ohhhh, so that’s what you want… Eh…” Sorein half-shrugged, pushing faintly at the fox. “Not so sure about that, unff… Don’t rub my chest, that’s…”

But they never got to hear what Sorein thought about Vic’s attention, the husky grumbling, though it was still more good-natured than annoyed. The fox whimpered, nuzzling down Sorein’s sweaty chest, tail wagging faintly. Truly, there was only one way that things could go from that point on. The husky wrapped his arms around Vic, stronger than he looked, rolling them off the sofa onto the carpet, where there was a little more room, chuckling as the fox yipped in surprise. With his eyes wide, Vic found himself a little breathless on his back, a chubby husky pinning him down with a cheeky grin on his muzzle.

“C’mere then, you started it, you know,” the husky teased, slipping onto Vic’s face as he was pinned between the husky’s chubby thighs. “Unff… If you want a better sniff…”

Vic whimpered, his world taken up by the husky’s soft, sweaty body, darkening between his thighs. The husky’s bare nuts pushed up insistently over his muzzle as he trembled where he was, grunting softly, trying to lap, to nuzzle — anything at all he could do that might have just possibly relieved his throbbing shaft a little. Sorein’s dick hardened too, plumping out languidly with blood as even it was lethargic with all the heat swamping the room, filtering into every tiny crevice of their bodies.

“Get all in there,” the husky growled, less annoyed now that he had the fox pinned, facing back down the length of Vic’s body. “Come on…”

He didn’t ask for anything specific, not even as he ground over the fox’s muzzle, rubbing his bare, sweaty backside across the fox’s face while Vic grunted and heaved for breath. Yet it was not fresh air that he wanted, not even as he grew hot and flustered, the istanbul travestileri heat of the husky too much to bear. It was very true that he had asked for it and it was still too much for him, sweaty nuts squashing against his muzzle, the aroma of sweat, old and fresh, overwhelming.

“Unff…” He groaned, trying to twist his head back and forth and finding no relief. “Ah… Pleash…”

He couldn’t get anything out bar a few half-hearted, muffled protests that weren’t going to get him anywhere, tail wiggling back and forth faintly, nuzzling where he could. Yet it was humiliating in a good way to be pinned, better able to enjoy the scent of his partner, his cock throbbing even as he tried to cling to Sorein, to weakly push him off. Of course, he didn’t really mean that, but his arousal was up, sweating more than ever, adding to the delicious tangle of sweat in the air. His shaft was smaller than most, not that it worried him any, even if the ache of need reached deeply up into his gut, a sensation that could not so easily be ignored at any time.

The husky grinned, happier with himself, popping a gummy worm into his mouth from a nearby baggie as he enjoyed himself a little more, fondling his cock only briefly to tease Vic. It was far better to wind up the fox now that he’d put him in such a position, stroking his little length until it throbbed urgently.

“Yeah, that’s what you get,” he teased, though it was all in good fun as he rocked and ground back on Vic’s muzzle. “This what you wanted, heh?”

Of course, Vic barely registered what his boyfriend was saying, let alone being in any position to respond. As he heaved for breath, loving every second, his hips thrust and rocked up weakly, the teasing stroke of Sorein’s paw on his cock too much to bear, fingers and palm too easily closing around it.

“Unff… Pleash… Pleash…” He whined faintly, head spinning, wet fur clinging to his cheek, his tongue lapping against that deliciously thick behind. “Unff… Ohhhh!”

His cock ached, yet Vic could not even think straight as his hips thrust of their own accord, as if he was not in control of his body. He needed it, needed something, yet his sweat-addled brain couldn’t think clearly in all the heat, panting and heaving, hot breath washing between the husky’s thick thighs. Oh, the chubbiness of him was all that Vic adored, panting, moaning, whimpering, running his paws over Sorein’s thighs and arse, wherever he could reach, over and over again.

The husky chewed on another gummy worm, tossing a third up in the air to snatch it up in his jaws. But he had probably teased the poor fox enough… He didn’t want him to pass out down there from the heat and lack of air! That could be funny though, teach him a lesson…

“Oommmph…” Vic moaned as light filtered across his muzzle, struggling up, his lust high, pupils dilated. “Ah… Sorein… Can I…”

He couldn’t get the words out, his paws on his boyfriend’s arse as Sorein jumped and growled, eyebrows travesti istanbul raised.

“What, didn’t you get enough there?”

He was more obliging, however, to Vic rubbing his hard dick against him, the fox’s need apparent as Vic nudged him insistently onto all fours as if he was possessed by something more than the heat. Sorein took a deep, shuddering breath, wondering if his body was ready, his boyfriend’s cock grinding over his arse, again and again, teasing, prodding, seeking out his hole.

“Unff… You are horny…”

That much was given as he licked his lips, the taste of the gummy worms intoxicating, though they were more interesting to him, in that moment, than Vic’s attempts at mounting him. For, try as the fox might, he just couldn’t get his cock between the husky’s buttocks to his hole, the thickness of Sorein’s rump thwarting him at every turn. Sorein chuckled faintly, teasing him further, wriggling his arse back against Vic, though it was not as if the fox was going to get anywhere.

No… He focused on the gummy worms, enjoying the warm glow of arousal, though he didn’t have any intention at all of satisfying it while the temperature was so high. Nah, it was better to snack, even if there were a few louder chews and slurps in there too, lifting his tail with a chuckle and wiggling his rump while Vic hopelessly tried to fuck him.

“Unff… C’mon, Sorein,” Vic whined. “Help me out?”

Yet he was destined with his cock throbbing to just grind over the husky’s chubby buttocks, which was not at all a bad thing either, his smaller shaft unable to do what he wanted it to. There was still pleasure there, panting, tongue lolling out, heat crawling within his skin as if he could not expel it in any way, not even by sweating.

He had to fuck, had to mount, had to do something, driven by single-minded need alone as he thrust, though his little cock wasn’t getting him anywhere. Even without penetration, his balls ached, the cord of tightness rising and rising inside him until Vic could bear it no more. It was too much for him, quick off the draw, ejaculating with a low groan as he spent himself over the husky’s backside.

It was unplanned, short and sharp, and Sorein barely glanced back from his snacks as the fox collapsed over him, a warm blanket that the husky very much did not need at that time. With cum still dribbling weakly from his small cock, the fox moaned and slumped to the side as he was shrugged off, the husky grumbling, still comfortable in his arousal but very much intent on his snacks.

“Yeah, come on, you got what you wanted there, didn’t you?”

There was a glint in Sorein’s eye, for the husky would remember what had taken place that day for cooler times, chuckling with a shake of his head at his partner, his obvious lust, his quick orgasm. If only it wasn’t so hot, he would have given him a proper ride — but with his cock driven up under Vic’s sweet, russet tail instead.

But that was for another time as Sorein relaxed, Vic’s breathing slowly returning to normal beside him, another packet of crisps calling his name. At least snacking kept his attention off the heat a little more, fondling his shaft absent-mindedly with his free paw.

Sweaty lust, after all, could be fun too…

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Hi everyone – thanks for sticking with me! This is the final instalment. Note that the tenses switch back and forth – this is intentional, as some of this chapter is ‘as recalled’ and some ‘as experienced’.

—–

Wilmington, Delaware, 1905.

Vittorio:

I don’t like to be touched these days. Morton took care of that. But I do like to people-watch, and I wonder if perhaps I have Frank to thank for that.

There’s a place I’ll make for at the end of a day, down toward the river. A telegraph pole at the corner of Market Street, well leaned on, made smooth by others before me, warmed by the afternoon sun.

I’ll claim a spot there, lighting a cigarette and eyeing the workers traipsing past me, eager for a drink after their day at the shipyards, on the wharves. With quite a few Irish and a good number of Swedes hereabouts, any given evening I’ll see scores of well-made men with blond hair and pleasing features pass by.

Some days it gratifies me in an odd sort of way. Others, I wonder what it is I’m grasping at. I not even certain I recall what he looks like, now, not truly…only that he was beautiful. But despite that, I know – I’m sure – that none of these hordes of men come close to equaling him.

They saunter by me in big laughing clumps, in smaller, quieter huddles, sometimes in simple pairs. I always notice the pairs. I watch them striding easily along in concert with one another, talking, laughing, sharing a joke, a match, one cupping his palms for the other’s cigarette, and sometimes – sometimes, I think I see a current passing between them in their gaze, an unspoken pact, and I understand why I’m here.

I’m not watching for him, or even somebody who reminds me of him…I’m watching for that.

—–

We left Frank’s house for the last time. We walked, just like always. In silence, just like always. Except…that it was the last time. The last time Angelo would reach his peak with me, leave his essence inside…

And not only that. It was the last time I’d know for sure there were five extra dollars waiting for me come the weekend. Now…now it was back to alleys, strangers, and uncertainty.

Angelo stopped four or five blocks from our building and lit a cigarette. I didn’t follow suit. I was so churned up inside I felt in danger of bringing up my supper.

He drew hard on the cigarette several times, filling his lungs to capacity. He was looking away from me, out to the street, when he spoke.

“I don’t think I’ll do…any of this…anymore.”

“Nor me.” The words were out of my mouth before I comprehended them, but hearing them, I knew them for the truth.

It was that simple. I couldn’t go back. In near six months of receiving five dollars every week from Frank, I had, in addition to a good warm coat, some gloves and one or two other niceties, a little money put by.

There were four dollar bills folded and worked up between the layers of the tongue of each of my boots, two underneath each inner sole. And Frank had given us both another ten dollars tonight, along with the St Christopher medals.

But without any ‘overtime’ it’d slowly dwindle to nothing as my expenses outran my earnings, and then…?

Then, in my spare hours, I’d shine shoes, carry bags, run errands, and if it wasn’t enough – I’d sleep in a flophouse. With my boots and my belt on.

I felt both better and…worse, in the wake of that decision, but less sick. With shaking hands, I lit a cigarette of my own as Angelo finished his, and turned to follow him as he paced on toward our room.

There were three more days. Three more days where life was the same, aside from the fact that Frank was done with us. We worked and we ate, we walked and we talked, we slept and we woke.

Then…when I opened my eyes on Thursday morning, I was alone in our little room-within-a-room. Angelo wasn’t in his bed.

I told myself he’d stepped out for cigarettes, he’d needed to void his bowels, he hadn’t been able to sleep and had taken a walk to pass the time. But an ominous feeling had awoken already, an awful gnawing somewhere deep in my gut.

It took me most of a week to accept it, but some part of me knew from that first moment. He was gone.

All day Thursday, I never quit the room in case, in case, in case he should come back. I pissed in the pot, I drank from the pitcher at the shared washstand, and between times I sat and smoked, facing the door, watching it like a cat at a mouse-hole, while the world seemed to draw in at the edges, grow smaller.

By the time darkness fell and the other men tramped in to take to their bunks, noisy, boisterous, laughing, some of them staggering a little, I was shivering, though I had my coat on. I supposed I was hungry. I didn’t feel hungry. I didn’t feel anything at all. Couldn’t feel, couldn’t think, couldn’t…

I lay down, coat and all, on Angelo’s mattress, pulled his blankets over me, and rested my head on his pillow. It smelled of istanbul travesti him. His hair, his sweat, his body…him. I turned my face into it, brought it up around the sides of my head, opened my mouth wide and gasped through the obstruction, breathing him in.

I fell asleep, and in my dreams he surrounded me – then I woke up with the light of day and he was still gone. Gone all over again.

Friday passed as Thursday had. I ran out of cigarettes a little before midday and shortly began to feel even colder. I fetched my own blankets down from the upper bunk and laid them over top of Angelo’s as a supplement, sleeping for snatches, waking, shivering, sleeping some more.

Reality crowded in as we were all roused Saturday morning by the landlady pounding on the door, demanding rent. With Angelo not there, I had to pay for both of our bunks, and because I’d stayed in bed all of Friday, I’d forfeited being paid even for the three days I had worked that week.

Madre di dio, I thought, handing over seven of the final ten dollars Frank had given me. After she left I righted my clothes, found my cap, prepared to go out and eat. By Monday, I needed to be finished – done with my grief-storm. I literally couldn’t afford to continue it longer.

If I’d been thinking more clearly, I might’ve realized…I might’ve seen it coming. As it was, Monday brought another shock. Another door shut in my face.

“And you can tell Corsetti not to bother either,” the foreman shouted after me as I trudged away.

No I can’t, I thought, tears welling up. I can’t tell him anything. Not even how sorry I am.

—–

By the time I tumbled out of a third-class carriage onto the platform of North Philadelphia Station three days later, having shelled out two dollars for my fare, my pockets were empty. All the money I possessed now was in my boots.

And around my neck. I stood fingering the little coin-like medal, the outer side nubbly with its embossed image of the saint, the inner smooth against my skin, as the crowd thronged around me, making for the concourse. Maybe things will be better here, I thought, joining the stream of people. They could hardly be worse, after all.

How wrong I was. The city was enormous – no, not as enormous as New York, but I’d only ever inhabited a small corner of that city. The farthest I’d ventured out of my comfort zone, in so very many ways, had been Frank’s house. Here, in these totally unfamiliar surroundings, and with no way to get my bearings, how was I to tell where somebody like me might find lodgings, might get work?

I never discovered the answer.

A month passed, and fall was creeping in. The days continued mild, but the nights began to have a genuine chill. There was one dollar remaining in my left boot. I’d found scraps of work here and there, a day, two, loading wagons, carting boxes – a dime for an hour’s labour cleaning shop-front windows. Enough that I could eat, but with winter coming…

With winter coming, shelter was my most pressing need for the next several months. Food and cigarettes I would enjoy on the days I could afford them. And…my fingers found their way once more to the gold charm lying against my chest and clutched it through the fabric of my shirt. If it came to it, I’d sell my body again before I gave this up. For so long as there was the slimmest hope that Angelo wore its twin, I’d keep it with me…

There seemed no point in waiting. I made my way to a patch of sidewalk perilously close to one of those nefarious alleys, easily discerned even in an unfamiliar town, and stood holding a piece of board I’d found, with ‘will work for lodgings’ scratched on it in charcoal.

Today, this is my work, I told myself. And if by evening I have nothing, then I go down the alley, and tomorrow I try again.

I didn’t have to wait until evening. After maybe five hours of being either ignored or jostled not entirely accidentally by passers-by, a man stopped and squinted at the board, then raised his frown to me.

“What kind of work?” he enquired.

“Any kind of work, sir,” I told him.

He scoffed. “We’ll see about that. Come with me,” and he turned away, beckoning sharply with his head for me to follow. I scurried along keeping a couple of steps behind him for several blocks, twisting this way and that as the streets grew gradually more suburban.

He came eventually to a stop in front of a store that read ‘Morton D. Daley – Dispensing Chemist’. Next door were a butchers and a greengrocers cheek-by-jowl, separated from the chemists by a narrow alley, which he trod down as I once again followed.

I waited while he unlocked the door of a lean-to and entered at his gesture. He stepped inside also, squared his shoulders and glared at me for several silent seconds, before saying;

“You’re a whore, aren’t you?”

I felt tears prick my eyes. I’d so hoped for something…anything…different. But – I was, wasn’t I?

“Yes, istanbul travestileri sir,” I admitted.

He nodded curtly. “Well, whore,” he said, indicating the space about him. “I have no need of this storeroom for my stock, so I let it out as lodgings instead. You may lodge here from now on free of charge provided you are prepared to abide by the stipulations I set, so listen up.”

“I live above my store with my family – you will not speak or interact with any one of them for any reason, at any time. You will make yourself available to me here at eight o’clock every single evening save for Sundays.

“You may conduct your…activities…as it pleases you outside of these times and far distant from here, but you may not under any circumstances use this room to pursue your business. Do I make myself quite clear, boy? If you ever bring anybody else here, I will discover it, and I will beat you until you wish for your death – and then I’ll stop.”

I took him in while he laid out his conditions. He was a fairly slight man and his hair was tidily slicked down. He wore small gold-rimmed spectacles, sported a thin mustache above a rigid upper lip, and he sniffed while he talked.

I felt no enthusiasm whatever at the prospect of servicing him, but I needed somewhere to stay above all things…the bed looked decent and had three blankets, the space was clean though narrow and sparse, with shelves and hooks on the walls as you’d expect from a storeroom, the door had a locking latch on the inside, and there was no hint of occupation by rats or mice. I supposed a chemist would know how to keep rodents at bay better than most folk.

“Well, boy?” he suddenly barked. “Don’t waste any more of my time – take it or leave it! If you’re not interested, speak up! There’s no shortage of other skinny dagos out there auctioning off their hindparts!”

I swallowed. “Thank you, sir. I’ll take it, sir.”

He nodded dismissal. “Very well. I’ll see you here at eight o’clock this evening. Leave the door unlatched.”

“Sir, I haven’t a watch,” I told him.

He drew in his chin and glowered. “Then you’d best allow ample time, hadn’t you? I don’t suffer fools. You can hear three different sets of church bells from here. The two that ring together are compline at seven, the other is evensong at seven-thirty. And if you ever keep me waiting I promise you you’ll have cause to continue to regret it for several days afterward.” With that, he left.

I walked out for a short while to orient myself with my new neighborhood and to buy something for my dinner, making sure to be back in my room…my cage, before sundown.

I paced back and forth, hoping I could keep my distaste for him hidden, hoping I could please him enough to be allowed to stay, reminding myself that I’d done this before many times, that men mostly weren’t difficult to satisfy – generally all they were looking for was wooden compliance, someone prepared to unhesitatingly mold himself to their needs. Frank hadn’t been like that of course, but this fellow didn’t particularly remind me of Frank.

He reminded me even less of Frank when he arrived at the appointed time, latched the door behind him, and immediately instructed me to face away, unclothe my lower half only, and to be sure I didn’t turn back around.

I did as I was bid, and a second or two later felt the sole of his shoe at the rear of my calf, nudging me forward.

“Over the end of the bed,” he snapped. “You know what to do.” I assumed the position, and he said, “I expect to find you already arranged in this manner when I arrive tomorrow, and every day thereafter – do you understand?”

I mumbled a “Yes, sir,” into the blanket and had barely closed my mouth again before he was right to work.

It was awful. Of course I was out of practice, but more than that it seemed I had forgotten just how awful it could be. I had a nasty suspicion I was going to be given a great many chances to remember in my near future, and my hunch wasn’t wrong.

On the third evening, bruised and wounded already by his previous exertions, he managed to wring a cry from my lips as he shoved unceremoniously up into me, and I noticed he finished quite quickly after that.

The next day I allowed myself to whimper while he saddled himself, and got a similar result. So that was how he ticked. He wasn’t merely indifferent to my pain, he was invested in it. He wanted to know that he was hurting me – that was what pleased him.

Before long, I hated him with a cold ferocity I’d never felt for anyone before him. It wasn’t just the brutality, it was the contempt he communicated in a hundred non-verbal ways. He’d arrive to find me bent forward over the high brass frame at the foot of the bed, waiting for him naked from the waist down as instructed.

I’d keep my gaze fixed ahead of me while hearing him loosen his flies, and he’d bark at me to hold my cheeks apart – he called them ‘buttocks’ – then he’d travesti istanbul clear his throat and spit directly on my hole.

Out of all of it, that was the thing I hated most. I knew I should be grateful that he was using something to ease his passage, but I wasn’t. Submitting to being buggered was one thing – I had agreed to that, if only out of necessity. I hadn’t agreed to being hocked on, and I couldn’t detach myself from the insult of it.

But that wasn’t all…because he required me to keep my hands on my ‘buttocks’ while he pleasured himself with my channel, I had no means to brace myself against his thrusting, I had no choice but to be tossed back and forth like a rag-doll as he worked me, the nubbly brass frame slamming into the front of my hips over and over, raising bruises on bruises on bruises, while being near garrotted by the neck of my shirt because Morton had it screwed into a bundle at the back, gripped in his hand.

He never actually touched me, not once. Not an inch of his skin ever made contact with mine. He lubricated me remotely, manhandled me by my clothes, kept his trousers and belt on while he thrust, and wore a rubber johnnie over his prick which he peeled off and left lying on the floor for me to clean up for him, once I was permitted to stand again after he was gone.

It riled me, that I was deemed too pox-ridden to be touched, but not to be utilized. It disgusted me that he cloaked himself in the sort of piety that forbade him to sodomize me on the Sabbath, but not on the other six days…and every time I thought I’d already pawned the last shreds of my dignity to him, he found more to take from me.

He was late arriving, one January evening. I stood bent forward, awaiting him in the frigid cold of my little room, as the backs of my thighs protested the position and my feet slowly prickled, throbbed, then numbed against the bare board floor. After a period of time, I righted myself and ducked beneath the covers, still unclothed in my lower half, ready to spring up quickly if he should show.

Not quickly enough. The door swung open and I was caught, frozen in the act of slipping back to my feet, dread pooling in my belly as I took in the look on Morton’s face.

“What is this?” he hissed. His voice, so quiet and modulated even in his outrage, unnerved me enormously.

“I…I was – I got cold…” I stammered.

His lip curled. “Cold, are you, boy? Well, I have the cure for that.” He began drawing off his belt. “Come over here and I’ll warm you up.”

I shrank back. “Please…sir? I’m ever so sorry.”

It had no effect. He thwapped the belt, now folded in two, across his palm, and gestured to the bed-frame. “Get yourself here, boy. Bend over and take it like a man.”

I didn’t take it like a man. I howled and sniveled and begged, knowing that was actually what he wanted, all the while hating myself for my weakness in being prepared to perform my weakness for him, just to spare myself a few seconds of his savagery.

For four days following, he made me wait. Even longer – perhaps for an hour after the appointed time, half-exposed in the chill of that room, to underscore his point. And wait I did, teeth chattering, thinking of better times, warmer days, places far from here…

There were no means by which he could force me stay, and I felt reasonably certain he wouldn’t attempt to track me down if – when – I absconded. But…I’d arrived in this place with twelve dollars saved, and it hadn’t been nearly enough. And paying rent with my body like this meant I didn’t spend all I earned, despite the fact that still all I could find was day labor, even after months of searching.

But it was slow, so slow building up. And in the meantime, if Morton wanted to beat me…well, he would beat me. There was no guarantee of anything better until I had money enough saved to buy better.

It took a little over a year, but the day I’d been waiting for came. I had twenty dollars. It ought to be enough. It had to be enough.

—–

I can smell the river from my watching-pole near the warehouses and the wharves. Briny, yes, and on a day so warm as this, also a little…overripe, rank. I’ll walk alongside, upstream, on my way back to my room, see what face she has on today…she changes, this river, she has moods to go with her rhythms. They named her for a queen, and like a queen she goes where she will, does as she pleases…

A brick shatters at my feet, snatching me out of my daydream, as I look across…

Oh, help, there’s four of them, and all so much bigger than me…

But not united in belligerence, thank god. Already, the tallest one has the red-headed thrower’s arm in his grasp, holding him back.

“What the devil’s wrong with you, Fergus? Can’t you go an hour without starting a ruckus?”

“He’s some kind of shill, that fellow!” the guy hisses, stabbing his finger at me. “He’s always here, watching people! It’s not normal!”

“It’s not normal to throw bricks at people, Ferg,” the third one drawls. “You want to fight him? Well, go ahead and fight him – but use your fists, like a regular person.”

The fourth one hasn’t said a thing. And he won’t. The fourth one…is a man of few words.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

My first mmm threesum. I first met Bill and Terry at a gaybor’s party. I was wearing very form fitting jeans through which you could clearly see the outline of my cock, and I didn’t mind. It felt good noticing their eyes passing down the front of my pants, letting them linger between my legs. I’ve worn those same pants to work, no undies, and a fun colleague would smile and tell me if my dick was on the left or right and comment that she could even see the outline of the head of my cock through my pants.

Wandering through the party, I found Terry to be quite the flirt and people who had never met him were soon charmed by his smile. Bill is much more soft spoken but he and I found ourselves chatting for awhile. As we talked, I felt this erotic vibe and I had a feeling that we would all be seeing more of each other. Before leaving the party, I gave Bill my email address.

Bill and I later got in touch online and I let myself imagine what it would be like to play with two cocks. Prior to that, I had only had limited experience with cock. Some would call it the “experimenting” one does as a teenager. When I was probably in high school, a buddy named Sean stayed over for a sleepover. After we had closed the door that night we were both horny and talked about just stroking our dicks to get some relief. While I had never rubbed my dick before with anyone else around to watch, I was so horny that I didn’t mind letting him see my hard dick and my hand squeezing it as I rubbed it up and down.

But then Sean had another idea. He said we could lick each other’s dick. It was all happening so fast I didn’t really have time to think but just went with it. He leaned over and opened his mouth to take in the head of my dick. I could see his tongue circling it, making it shiny with his spit. I watched as he took it into his mouth. Then it was my turn. Sean lifted his bed sheets and brought his dick up to my mouth. Without even istanbul travesti thinking about it, I opened my mouth and started licking his dick like a lollypop.

Since it was my first time playing with another guy’s cock, I didn’t really know what I was doing so I just let myself lick around the head. I think he liked it, though, judging from the halted sounds of his heavy breathing. Sucking dick was such a new experience for me. We both then began stroking our dicks at the same time. As I was watching, I could see his eyes squeeze shut, his strokes pounding harder and his hips rock as he shot his load of cum all over his belly. Shortly afterwards, I could feel myself suddenly having this amazing feeling as my hot cum shot out all over my own chest and belly. Years would pass and it was only recently that, in my horny mind, fantasies would include playing with dick.

I actually know the moment that it happened, too. It was in a porn arcade. You would put money into the booth and use a button to flip through various types of porn movies that were playing constantly. I happened to flip to a movie where the camera was focused on the beautiful face and lovely tits of a woman who was riding on top of a man’s cock. You could see her panting and moaning with his fucking motion and, as the camera panned downwards could see…..her very hard cock bouncing up and down as the man’s dick penetrated her tight asshole. I gasped in intrigue and felt my heart beat even faster with excitement. I was completely mesmerized. My excitement continued over time as I enjoyed the thought of a sexy woman who slid down her panties with a tell-tale bulge to reveal a dick needing to be sucked. Even though it was taboo, more and more I let myself imagine letting myself play with cock.

The day finally arrived when I was to meet Bill and Terry at their house. Underneath my pants I was wearing a silky blue thong that rubbed deliciously istanbul travestileri against my asshole and was as soft and sheer as panties. Bill and Terry had a sort of guest house where we were to meet. Bill turned on some porn for me to watch as he went and got Terry. I was both excited and nervous. I knew I had some bisexual feelings but they had waxed and wained. There were times I was not as eager to suck cock, but this was not one of those days. Today, I was absolutely ravenous for it.

When the both of them returned, the porn was still playing in the background. As I stood up in their living room, I let Bill unbutton my pants, and slowly open my zipper. He slowly slid down my pants so that I was practically naked in front of both of them. My heart was pounding as I stood there in the middle of their living room and they both let their eyes roam anywhere they wanted all over my body. Both of them started to caress my body, letting their hands feel the smooth silk of my thong and squeezing my growing dick underneath.

As their pants came off, I could see the thickness of Terry’s cock. I’m sure my eyes got huge! Any reservations I had about sucking cock were completely gone. My mouth truly watered as it greeted me. It looked sooo good! That’s what I wanted in my mouth. Taking it in my hands, I looked at at its thickness and opened my mouth wide so I could slide it in. Breathing through my nose because of its size, I let my tongue circle it, with long licks on the bottom. I experimented with both sucking and licking it, and I could tell that Terry was enjoying my technique. Not wanting to be left out, Bill stood next to Terry so I could suck his dick as well. On my knees as they stood in front of me, their dicks were at perfect height to go right into my eager mouth. As I stroked Terry’s dick in one hand, I wrapped my fingers around Bill’s dick and let him push his hips forward so that I would have travesti istanbul to suck it.

As I was on all fours while sucking Terry’s cock, it put my ass in perfect position for Bill to start sliding his dick into me. He positioned himself directly behind me and spread my waiting ass. My asshole was very tight, never having been fucked from behind. I gasped as I could just feel the head of his cock starting to press in against me. Ever so slowly, I could feel myself being stretched wide open from behind. I felt so exposed and vulnerable….but I was excited by it. Bill took it slowly, letting me have time to ease in the head of his hot cock.

Closing my eyes and exhaling as I could feel his head starting to squeeze into me, I started to push my ass back, just as his hips were sliding forward. As he slowly started to fuck me doggy style, my balls started bouncing back and forth with each thrust. It was so tight I tried to crouch a little lower on my elbows to make my ass more accessible. At the same time, my lips were wrapped tightly around Terry’s hot cock. It was so thick I had to open my mouth all the way. The feeling of sucking his dick was almost magical. I loved how it truly filled my mouth.

We decided to move from the living room into their bedroom. Bill got onto the bed with his cock still hard. As he lay on his back, I stood straddling over him and slowly squatted down, so that I could control how quickly and deeply his cock would go into me. Taking his cock into my hand, I put the tip right at my asshole. Gradually, I let the head slide into my ass. I started raising and lowering my ass slightly, letting it slide in more deeply each time until I had the full length of his dick inside of me. It was amazing. My ass was still very tight, but I couldn’t stop. I wanted it. When I knew he was close to cumming, I let his cock slide out of me. I took it into my hand, stroking it. I could feel his body tighten. As my hand slid down, he let out a long moan and I watched as his hot stream of cum shot all the way over his shoulder making a wonderful, sticky mess.

As I left, all of the scenes played back in my mind and I knew that, one day, we would be playing again.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The Journey of Rick Heiden

All Rights Reserved © 2019, Rick Haydn Horst

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

I hadn’t appreciated the disadvantage of the unfamiliar environment. The instant my eyes leveled with the marble of the third floor, I scanned all around me. The smell of cooked food lingered in the cool air. The cage jerked to a stop. I retracted the accordion door, and the empty room fell silent. I stood in a vestibule shaped like a 6-meter cube with 5-meter wooden double doors before me. Knockers of polished bronze, like the left and right forearms of a giant, hung on the mullion of each, their oversized fists gripping an orb. I rapped the door with the left knocker and waited.

Gabe cracked open the door. I noted that he hadn’t adhered to the strict dress code; he wore his Trust uniform. In just shorts and shoes, I felt a little underdressed. He looked around the vestibule and then opened the door to let me inside.

Most of the third floor held a great room, decorated in a classical style, with marble and mosaics of mythological creatures on the walls and plenty of Roman furniture throughout the room. To the right, a table with ten chairs had the remnants of a meal on one end.

Amaré lay on a platform bed, tucked in a recess of the room. I rushed to him to find him in the same condition as Neal. Horrified, I clung to the side of the bed rather than hugging him, although I almost did.

“I found him on the floor of his home last night,” said Gabe.

“Why?” I said aloud to myself.

“We need to talk, Rick.”

I turned to face him and backed away. “Can I trust you? How do I know you didn’t do this?”

“What can I say to convince you?” Gabe asked. “I am David’s man. If he asked me to do something, I would do it. Amaré trusted you, David, and me most.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to ask you for your help. I can’t do this alone.”

“How can I know you’re honest?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I could tell you what you wanted to know at Laurel’s lab. I know why the population declined when Aurum invented the Youth Enhancement. Why don’t we sit?” He glanced at the seating.

I nodded. Cautious, I followed him. He sat in a chair while I sat on a lounge. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“Aurum invented the Forever Young enhancement,” he said, “and when it became available most of the population found it abhorrent and opposed the idea. The elders of the time, including my parents, felt it crossed a line they were unwilling to cross, even for transhumanists. Most of the younger generation wanted and received the youth enhancement, led by Amaré, Meridia, Dmitry, Dai, Ruby, and me. No one older than us received it, and the three of our eldest, Amaré, Meridia, and Dmitry, convinced everyone between the ages of 15 and 24 to receive it by their 25th birthday, and everyone between the ages of 25 and 30 received it. In reaction, the older generations at the time, convinced as many people as they could, including Aurum himself, to not get the enhancement and to side with them when they chose to stop having children. Those of us with the enhancement felt we had plenty of time and an enormous reluctance to have children of our own. This began an era of profound change for Jiyū. The population plummeted from 6 million to 500 thousand in less than 200 jears.”

So far, his story comported with what Pearce had told me. I had one question. “Why did the older generation stop having children?”

“That’s complicated.” He leaned back, pausing a moment to gather his thoughts. “At the time,” he said, “the people of Jiyū had already eliminated a great deal of struggle and uncertainty to life, and the elders knew humans require the change and growth that comes from occasional struggle as well as an element of uncertainty. It’s part of the push and pull of positive and negative forces if you will. These are the things of which lives are made. It can result in harsh circumstances, but it’s what keeps us motivated, empathetic, and functioning as people and as a society. They also recognized that endings had the same importance as beginnings. They believed that physically living forever would one day make life vapid and meaningless. They believed that adding a potential everlasting life to the box of contentment, harmony, and order, the population had already created for themselves would cause curiosity to diminish and that both discovery and innovation would go with it.

“They believed, with luck, we would come to realize our self-made purpose wasn’t enough. The only genuine, sufficient change and growth that we could experience would have to come from forces outside ourselves to color the world we live in, providing contrast, thereby making life itself meaningful. They didn’t istanbul travesti want to condemn more children to what they believed would become a path to self-destruction, or worse, a life of mediocrity from living in a hellish perpetual serenity. Their decision to stop having children embodied their most honorable choice, and they concluded that maybe by doing so, it would teach us a lesson they believed we needed to learn.”

“Isn’t serenity a good thing?” I asked.

Gabe considered that for a moment. “Do you know why we can enjoy experiences?”

I shook my head, not knowing where he was going with it.

“We can enjoy them because they end, even if just for a while,” he said. “People find a ride at a fairground fun, but would it remain fun if it never ended? Too much of any given experience, including living in serenity, is bad. Even parents, who love their children, require the contrast of time away from them to keep them a joy in their lives. Our elders wanted to teach us a lesson in moderation. Life devoid of struggle is anemic, as it became on Jiyū, but too much struggle is soul-destroying, as it has become for far too many people on Earth.”

“So, what happened?”

“Much later, after Amaré became Prime, the population growth rebounded.”

“Yes, I have already surmised what Amaré had to do to compensate for that problem. So, the elders were right in their assessment.”

He nodded. “Yes. Despite our search for knowledge and inventive ways of thinking, we needed something else. Jiyū vacillated between excitement and a complacency that bordered on apathy for jears. Amare’s efforts helped to lift us out of that cloud, and it lifted further when you and David returned from Earth with Amare and Aiden, but it hasn’t lifted fully and not permanently.”

“Amaré tried to tell me of the portal’s importance,” I said. “It is important.”

He nodded. “The portal has helped to keep us from remaining complacent,” he said. “Change comes in the form of occasional newcomers and news from Earth. When they arrive, things become different, if just for a while. Aurum knew Jiyū would have this ongoing problem. I have awaited the time when someone comes and effects such change a shift of consciousness occurs, altering life here.”

“If you knew what Jiyū needed,” I asked, “why haven’t you done it?”

He shook his head. “I recognized the problem, but as a product of this world, I didn’t know how to help correct it.”

“What would you have me do?” I asked.

“Keep doing what you’re doing,” he said, “much of the change here centers around you and David.” He leaned forward. “If you know how Amaré compensated, then you know about the Prime Sharer.”

“Yes, where did you hear about it?”

“Amaré told me long ago,” he said. “Where did you hear it?”

“Pearce.”

“Pearce?”

“Yes. Pearce knows of that, and the entrance to Aurum’s secret and what’s hidden there, or rather I should say ‘knew’ of the entrance; no one can access it now. He wrote about it in journal number eight, which Meridia stole 36 jears ago, according to Neal.”

“That’s disappointing.”

“What is?” I asked.

“Amaré told none of us the location, not even me, so secrecy alone has protected it, and if Meridia has had the book all this time, she didn’t share it with Amaré because he would have told me of that.”

“Might she have what Aurum hid there?”

“No,” he said, “knowing how to find the entrance is one piece. I shouldn’t, but I’m sure I stumbled upon a piece when I dropped something once, and I know Meridia doesn’t know of it. You said no one can access it now?”

“Yes, I’m sure the Master Builder blocked the entrance. A thewsbot must have done the job.”

“If the Master Builder closed the entrance, she would create another one elsewhere. How did Pearce discover its location?”

“Pearce told me Amaré hid the memories with him as a child, and he believes Amaré made himself forget them.”

Gabe closed his eyes and exhaled. “Yes, of course. That means, despite that Amaré has kept him close, he doesn’t trust Dmitry. I suspected as much. After Amaré’s tenure as Prime, next will come Dmitry’s tenure. I wondered why Amaré hadn’t retired long ago. He never would tell me.”

“Amaré told me it felt as if he had taken on a task that he couldn’t entrust to anyone else,” I said, “I assume he meant Dmitry. He said it must end, but he must make it right. He’s going to end the need for anyone to compensate ever again, isn’t he?”

Gabe closed his eyes. “Oh, Amaré, what have you done?”

“Did Amaré destroy Rom, or did Dmitry? Or Meridia, perhaps?”

“What motive would Dmitry or Meridia have?”

“I don’t know, but Amaré and Neal didn’t do this to themselves. Is this about Aurum’s secret? Or is it about Amaré wanting to correct a mistake he made long ago? Either way, I’m willing to bet Dmitry or Meridia did this to him. But Meridia is Amaré’s cousin, why isn’t she one of the people he trusts?”

“They still istanbul travestileri speak with one another,” he said, “but he no longer trusts her. I’m not sure why.”

“I almost suggested we take Amaré to the hospital, but we can’t, can we?”

“No, we can’t,” he said. “No one can know of Amaré’s incapacitation. Dmitry cannot become Prime. He would inherit Aurum’s home.”

That phrase caught my attention. “Aurum’s home…you mean the home Amaré lives in, don’t you?” I thought for a moment. “Aurum was Italian, wasn’t he? I thought the sculptor depicted his statue as rather Romanesque. So, that’s why Amaré lives in that Italianate home; practical reasons, as he told me.” Then I realized. “Aurum hid a piece of his secret there, didn’t he? That’s where you happened upon it. Amaré lives there to protect it.”

“You need to stop right there,” Gabe said.

“Okay, fine,” I said. “How would the Prime Sharer abilities get passed to Dmitry?”

“They wouldn’t,” he said. “The previous Prime, Francine Stabliano, gave Amaré the abilities. I watched him drink the last vial. There isn’t anymore.” He took a deep breath. “Can we help Amaré and Neal?”

“Viral nano code has caused their condition, and the technician told me we couldn’t help them.”

“Dmitry is a horticulturist,” said Gabe, “that I know of, he couldn’t have written viral code. Meridia could do it. She taught applied mathematics for jears.”

“So, are they both in on it?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“How long can Amaré live like that?” I asked.

“As long as he has access to ambient electromagnetic energy, he doesn’t need food for many days. But, without water? Not long. He must stay hydrated and flush his system like anyone else.”

“Damn. That doesn’t give us much time, and we need the time.” I sat there thinking for several minutes, and a thought occurred to me. “How did you get Amaré here?”

“With great difficulty,” he said. “Without Fennec’s loyalty to Amaré, it wouldn’t have happened. I couldn’t get a levitating stretcher big enough, and Fennec’s the one person I know who can lift him. We brought him here in the middle of the night. We couldn’t bring him through the front door, so we came through the catacombs.”

“The catacombs inside the mountain.”

“Yes, we didn’t have the tradition of cremation at the time, and those millions of people who died had to go somewhere.”

“Is there a tunnel in the catacombs that reaches the temple?” I asked.

“Yes, that’s the oldest section of the catacombs. We prepared the bodies in the temple, in the area now known as the observation wing, and took them down into the passage, but we haven’t used it in jears. Why?”

“He needs care, so we cannot keep him here,” I said. “We cannot keep him at our hospital because there’s no way to keep that secret. Can you clear the temple while Fennec and I bring Amaré there through the catacombs?”

“Why? We can’t keep him hidden at the temple, either.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Are you suggesting we take Amaré to Earth?” he asked.

I nodded. “Aiden can go with him; he will know what to do. He studied him long enough, and he knows about Neal’s condition. Fennec can stay with Amaré to protect him, and they can take him through on a levitating gurney from the temple. I know theirs is big enough.”

“You want to use the differential to give yourself time to find a cure,” said Gabe, “I understand that, but if you think one lies waiting for you in Aurum’s vault, I can’t let you search for it. Aurum hid it for a reason.”

“Yes, Aurum hid it for a reason,” I said. “He hid the vault until such a time the Prime determined we needed its contents. Amaré wouldn’t choose to remain this way. From what you’ve said, he didn’t want Dmitry to become Prime.”

“What if Dmitry did this, in part, to force you to find Aurum’s secret for him?” asked Gabe. “Amaré wouldn’t want you to do that.”

“I will have to keep that in mind while I search for it.”

Gabe gave me a harsh look, which appeared worse than the one he gave everyone, but it didn’t deter me.

“Look,” I said, “I want Amaré back. I want Neal back. I want to know who the hell destroyed Rom because I don’t believe Amaré did it. I want to help Pearce get his son. I also want our people to come home, which Magnar says will happen tomorrow when Venn completes the second ship. The temple will have too many people there tomorrow, and Amaré needs medical attention. It cannot wait; if we do this, it must happen tonight.”

Gabe sat there thinking, a scowl on his face.

“You asked for my help,” I said. “This is it.”

“What of our people on Earth. Won’t they see Amaré coming through?”

“The British would have moved them away from the portal. It would cause a media frenzy if they didn’t.”

He took a deep breath. “What do you need me to do?”

I laid out the plan for Gabe. I needed him to find Aiden, letting him know what happened, what I needed him to do, and that I travesti istanbul would meet him at the temple. I required Gabe to clear the temple of people for a while. I didn’t know how he would manage it, but as an elder, I figured he could do it. In the meantime, Fennec carrying Amaré, and I, would make our way to the temple through the catacombs, an unsavory idea for me if I ever had one. Gabe assured me I could find the way, as only one way up existed, and I would know it when I saw it.

On his way out, Gabe sent Fennec up the lift. I felt uneasy with Fennec; he didn’t appear to like me. As he entered the room, I noticed the massive, striated thigh muscles we would rely on caused him to have a distinctive rolling gait.

“Gabe tells me he trusts you.” –so, Fennec could speak in complete sentences of more than two words– “If he trusts you, then I trust you.”

“I appreciate that,” I said.

He gave me a sidelong look. “You look me in the eye,” he said in his smooth basso voice. “Does my size not frighten you?”

“Naw, I’m too busy finding you attractive to be frightened.”

He laughed.

“And I find myself a little envious,” I said, “I always wanted to be bigger.”

“Lift heavy, lift every day, eat a lot, and sleep,” he said. “Your body will take care of the rest.”

“Thanks, I’ll remember that,” I said. “Gabe and I need you to carry Amaré through the catacombs to the temple.” I looked down at the legs bulging from beneath his rather short semi-transparent shorts. They looked larger than David’s legs by a wide margin. “I suspect the trek is farther than it seems.” I stared him in the eye. “I know you have great strength, but can you carry Amaré that far?”

“That is far,” he said. “I don’t know. I will consider it a challenge.”

I nodded. “I’ve never walked through catacombs or stood near millions of dead bodies. That’s challenging enough for me.” I pointed at the door. “Must we leave by the lift?”

“We also have the one-way exit down the staircase. It doesn’t lead straight into the catacombs, but with the blackout party going on, no one will notice.”

“I figured,” I said. “I brought my wrist lamp, but I can’t use it until we get to the catacombs.”

“You and Gabe should get synthetic eyes,” said Fennec. “Just follow me.”

Fennec lifted Amaré into a fireman’s carry. (An efficient means of carrying someone quite a distance, the legs receive most of the strain.) I covered Amaré with the dark coverlet from the bed to minimize what anyone might see.

A pull on the panel opened the exit to the narrow stairs at the back of the building. Fennec and Amaré scraped the walls on the way down. We exited through the one-way door on the ground floor across the darkened hallway from the basement staircase. A couple of people descended into the basement when we arrived. Fennec followed them, and I trailed behind.

The marble basement staircase led to a near pitch-black lower level, soundproofed with an exaggerated “S” shaped sound baffle. It worked well; the instant we turned a corner, we heard low playing music until we turned the last corner of the baffle where the music became much louder, and the little remaining light dimmed even further. They played high-energy music one might hear in a nightclub in Europe.

We crossed the footprint of the house into a cutout cave within the rock of the mountain. I touched the wall on the way. As I suspected, the rich sound of the music and lack of any echoes told me that they had covered the stone walls and the ceiling in tapestries. I would love to have seen them. My eyes wouldn’t have time to adjust to the near abject darkness. I saw various pieces of glow-wear on the hundreds of people. As I discovered later, we passed a few hypostyle halls with a series of iconic columns holding up ceiling braces the width of the room. Together, the spaces made up more than half of a football field. Luckily, I couldn’t see them at the time; I would have had trouble tearing myself away from admiring the architecture. We turned down a long narrow hallway to a room with another sound baffle and a metal door. No one ventured past them as they knew where it led.

When I hear the word catacombs, I think of a smelly, rustic dingy environment. At best, I figured I would find casketless cobweb-covered corpses stacked inside alcoves, or worse, the dismembered bones of bodies displayed like artwork as those found in the catacombs of Paris. I expected the worst possible scenarios, and I should have known better; I was on Jiyū, not Earth.

We exited the baffle into the silence beyond the door, I stepped in front of Fennec, using my wrist lamp. It smelled like old air and stone. I detected no odor of decay from the bodies kept there. They had polished the ornate walls, ceilings, side columns, and metal braces to a satiny shine, and we encountered a raised floor tomb every few meters, on both sides of the path. Upon their tops lay a marble statue of the person entombed there appearing as though they were sleeping. Gold plaques on the sides of the tombs held the names and dates.

We walked quite a while, and I couldn’t tell how far we had gone. “Do you need a break?” I asked.

“I can continue,” Fennec said. “We’re coming upon the passage to the main entrance that Gabe and I used.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32