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Disclaimer: This story and all of the characters and situations are fictional. It contains gay male erotic material. If this is not your forte, please close this page and find something more suiting to your desires.
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Bruce and Jonathan sat with David in the office of their new club, discussing business for more than an hour. Soon, the young man became antsy and wanted to go downstairs and have some fun.
“Come on, Bruce.” He scooted to the edge of his seat. “Let’s go do some partyin’.” His face was full of anticipation as he stood.
“Sure, kid.” The man still had more to ask of David, but understood Jonathan’s need and desire. “You think we might can get together later? Over lunch maybe?” Bruce asked.
“I’d love that, Mr. Crawford,” David stood coming around from behind the desk offering the man his hand. “Take my card and just call me. Jonathan knows my number too. So, we should be able to get together with no problem.”
“Good…And call me Bruce,” He gave him a firm shake then moved to the door with the young man.
“Sure, Bruce,” David smiled, watching the two leave the room, closing the door.
As they moved down the stairs and toward the table, a good slow dance song, by ‘Wham!’, began to play. Jonathan perked, turning to Bruce immediately. He slipped his arms around him staring hopefully into his face.
“Dance with me, Bruce?” He pleaded lightly. The man smiled. “I’d love to dance with you.” He answered, taking his hand leading the way to the dance floor.
Once there, he turned to face him, surrounding Jonathan in his arms. They pulled him into his body snuggly and a gentle sway produced itself.
“You’re not ready to go back to Georgia, are you?” He asked pointedly.
“Not yet.” Jonathan answered honestly, “I mean, we still have to go through the mansion and salvage what the servants and everyone else ain’t stolen. It’s gotta be closed up and put on the market, and all. And–“
“Okay, I get yer point, kid,” He chuckled, halting him in mid-sentence. “I’m really proud of you, Jonathan. Yer showing me a lot a responsibility I never knew you had.” His grin was obviously amused.
“As long as I keep ya on yer toes, Bruce. That’s all that matters.” The youth jested.
“It really surprised me that you decided to clean the place up. I’m very pleasantly surprised and very pleased, Jonathan. It would be so easy for you to step back and go for it.” He purposely began to feel his way with him to see if it might be lurking there.
“Oh, I’m tempted as hell, Bruce. I mean, it was always there for me before. And I dried out all by myself. I won’t do that again,” He shook çankaya escort his head back and forth, as he said the last. “That was so hard for me. And nobody there to help me, or watch me. I was so alone,” His eyes filled suddenly.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Jonathan,” He pulled the young man’s head to his shoulder, keeping his hand there.
Jonathan felt so protected at that moment. The way Bruce was holding him made him feel that way. One arm around his back almost grasping his side, the other hand was cradling his head to his shoulder. His cheek was leaning on the side of his head.
He felt he could just stay like that forever with this man. More and more, he was becoming the father he never knew. And so unintentionally. His constant love and understanding, the gentleness with which he dealt with him, always so kind and thoughtful, Bruce was all he had ever dreamed of in a father, as was Greg.
Tony was more like a big brother to him. His humor and playful way always pepped him. And he was so impulsive at times. A sort of rogue with a good attitude about life. And he loved that man deeply. He also knew without a shadow of doubt that Tony loved him. There was never any question of that.
Then there was Peter, his guardian angel. The one that had stuck by him through many tumultuous times with his uncle and Maurice. Often he had thwarted their plans or spontaneous desires for Jonathan with news of an illness or something of that nature. Most of the time it worked.
He was also the one that ministered to him after he had been abused by his uncle and Maurice, or whomever it was at the time. His gentle hands would clean his wounds, dress them and he would hold him until he cried himself to sleep. Always a kind and gentle way about Peter, and his soft words were carried on his deep baritone voice with its rich accent.
He had so much to be thankful for at the moment. Yet he still couldn’t help but wonder how his life might have been if his uncle hadn’t been so sick…so deviously demented…depraved of mind and soul. Still, as Peter had said earlier that day, he wasn’t always like that.
Sometimes, it would seem he was as normal as any other person, and pure as the driven snow. He would laugh and be so kind to everyone about him, including Jonathan. It was a ritual that they go out every Tuesday night to his club for Retro Night. It was his favorite music, and it became Jonathan’s too.
They often danced just like this, with Mr. Bowman holding him close, protectively, yet gentle. His soft whispers would assure him that he cared so much about him. Often during those times of apparent normality, he would say those things. His hand would caress his cheek so warm and gentle…so caring. And frequently it would slip back into his hair, cradle the back of his head and draw him in for a long passionate kiss.
He recalled keçiören escort many of those at the moment. Jim’s urgent kisses, full of desire and wanton prelude. The forbearer of things to come later that evening, of course. And on those nights, his lovemaking was so awesome to Jonathan…so purposeful and lovingly crafted. That, he would miss about his uncle, and was already.
Lifting his head, he stared into Bruce’s eyes. He had to sate the need of his soul at the moment. And Jim was no longer. There wouldn’t be anymore of those kisses and moments of lovemaking from him. No more of his gentle whispers of how he cared for Jonathan and loved him so. None of that would be given him by Jim anymore.
And Jonathan felt such a dire need for it right then. To feel his lips pressed against his. The warmth and pliancy of them devouring his. Molding to them, yet active in their delivery. And the warm moisture of his tongue searching the very depths of his mouth, leaving nothing to be hidden in secret or unexplored. He needed that. To feel that again.
Leaning his head to one side a bit, he connected with Bruce’s lips. A hand came up cupping the man’s cheek drawing him in…closer…beguiling him to participate. Jonathan’s tongue drove into his mouth urgently.
A passion was unleashed upon him that Bruce couldn’t recall ever experiencing from Jonathan before. He reveled in the feel of it, pulling him even tighter to his body. A moan escaped him, as his body responded ardently to Jonathan’s sudden onset of passion.
How rare it had been that the two of them would come together like this. And how he had longed for it so many times. Yet, it would seem that circumstances would keep them apart, so very often. It was a wonder that they even had such a close relationship, really. Or, at least, that’s how Bruce felt about it.
Jonathan shifted as the kiss heated to a fervid ardor. He pressed his pelvis against the man’s hip seeming to ensure that he could feel his growing need. His hands began to roam Bruce’s body, gently caressing his back and shoulders. Once or twice he had made that subtle contact that caused him to shudder visibly.
And, Jonathan felt it when it came. It encouraged him to continue his amorous search of his mouth and his powerful lean body. It would appear that he would loose himself and make out with the man, right there on the dance floor.
His mind wondered again, which caused his kiss to lessen somewhat, for the time being. He was suddenly lost in his recalls of his Uncle as they were when they danced, just like he was with Bruce. The times when Jim was impassioned and sane, it seemed.
He could feel his hand glide down his back stopping just below the small of his back. It then pressed him closer to him, as he tightly moved against him. The hand then slide up the back of his shirt. Warmth from his hand seemed to scorch his flesh etimesgut escort with its heated ardent intent. And often it would sneak its way around, finding a nipple hard and begging to be teased.
Jonathan moaned audibly. His kiss was once again full of abandon. He practically rode the man’s thigh in an effort to sate the aching need that had produced itself. The strong thumping of his heart was literally felt by the man. Strong intense beats that would attempt to hammer its way out of his chest.
He became lost in the moment, as he felt Jonathan’s body completely given to him. His hand moved from the young man’s side drifting slowly downward. And hearing that soft whiny moan of his drove him to utter insanity. His hand halted over Jonathan’s bottom pressing his pelvis closer, firmly to his hip and thigh.
Leaning forward a bit, he held tightly to him. The hand slipped up the back of his loose shirt, plundering the young man’s body uninhibited. The warmth of his flesh, just the feel of it, seemed to ignite his senses even more than they already were.
Driven by Jonathan’s passions, he sought to sate the throbbing desires the young man had. His own were far too heightened, to stop it now. Ardently, he moved against the young man’s body. The wandering hand slide around to his front beginning to tease and plunder more. It glided over the soft flesh that yielded to him so willfully. Drifting, touching, teasing, it moved downward still.
But before it could find its way to the goal it sought out, Jonathan’s breathing suddenly changed, expelling at a sporadically intermittent pace. He felt him pulsing between them. His excited moans filled his mouth arduously. All of this sent Bruce into an orbital climax that no one seemed to be aware of.
Clutching Jonathan to him, he all but stopped completely on the spot they had been dancing. His body quivered terribly forcing itself to maintain it strength enough to remain on his feet. And the subtle jerks of Jonathan’s body seemed to timely heighten his experience.
His tongue swept deep into Jonathan’s mouth, coming short of plundering the back of his throat. He was inundated with so much a provoking of such magnitude that he had not ever known with this young man. And his pleasure groans were mingled with the youth’s, unreservedly.
As their bodies calmed, Jonathan drew back from his fantasies of his Uncle, realizing what had only just taken place between him and Bruce. He snatched at air as he leaned his head to the man’s shoulder once again. That hand came up again, resting over his head lightly. The fingers slowly curled, relaxing once again.
“I love you, Jonathan,” Bruce seemed urgent to say. “And don’t you ever forget that,” his voice was firm in expressing.
“I won’t, Bruce. I promise,” the young man rested against the man, quieting the desperate need for air, still. He could feel the man’s heart pounding against his chest so profoundly. Such a desperate attempt to match the emotion that he felt from the man’s confession, it seemed to him.
His eyes filled with tears, knowing it was true. He knew this man would stop at nothing to ensure his safety and well being. And yet, the passionate ardor with which he had only just spoken it pierced his heart, through and through.
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