Man trouble (m/m)

[rugbycockfan]

10.

"Scott? It's Scott, isn't it? I'm Tony, Lee - Leon's friend. Could I talk to you for a moment?"

"Yes, I well remember. You're the tart's accomplice. I think I've seen quite enough of you already. And if he's sent you to try to twist my arm into seeing him again then you're wasting your time. Now, if you'll excuse me." Scott swept past him, making for the lifts.

"He didn't send me. Fact is, he'd be pretty pissed off if he knew I was doing this. But there's something here that I think you don't understand."

Now Scott could feel his temper really starting to rise. He stopped and turned on his heels. "Oh, and what is it I'm too stupid to understand? You think..." and, hearing how loudly he was starting to speak, checked himself, now addressing Tony in the low tones of barely surpressed anger, "You think I don't understand that he's been fucking me and then going home to hubby afterwards?"

"Yeah, I thought as much. Told you about his 'partner' did he? No such guy. At least, not any more."

"Eh?!"

"Leon's single mate, has been for the last two years. He lied to protect you. I have to go back up to work, but the gym's quiet again this evening and I've no personal training slots booked. If you come up with me then I can tell you what's going on. Please, just don't write Leon off - he's a good lad."

Now Scott was properly confused. Why did Leon feel that Scott needed protecting, and why did he think the only way to do that was through lies? Lies never protect anybody. They just fester away, leaking their own special kind of poison, contaminating everything. The men went upstairs, and Tony began to dish the dirt.

"I spoke to Leon on the phone this afternoon. He told me that he'd spent the night with you, but that you two decided not to take it any further in the morning. I knew he was lying through his teeth because this has happened once before, and he sounded even more depressed this time than the last. Leon uses the 'I'm already seeing someone' excuse when he finds a guy he really likes, and then gets cold feet about seeing him again because he's afraid of what Alex will do."

"Alex?"

"Leon's ex-boyfriend. They met not long after we graduated, and were together for about three years. It all started out feeling normal, but Alex turned out to be a bit of a brute, and controlling with it. He didn't like Leon hanging out with his friends, with anybody other than him. Tried to monopolise his time. Started to get aggressive with Leon, and with me and other people who care about him when we began to question what was going on. You know Leon's a strong, fit guy, but Alex is very big. The first time Leon tried to split up with Alex, he flew into a rage and belted him one. The second time, he... did something much worse. The police got involved, no charges ended up being brought but it did give Leon the opportunity to get away. Except that Alex won't leave him alone."

"What? You mean this Alex has been harassing Leon?"

"It's stalking behaviour. He often checks up on where he's been, sits outside his flat in his car, bombard him with notes, calls, texts and e-mails. Alex hasn't tried to hurt Leon again - yet - but he won't let him move on with his life. Me and Leon, we're both 28 now, and I've got a girlfriend and two kids, but he's been on his own ever since he got away from Alex. He can go out and get laid, but if he shows signs of forming an actual relationship then Alex gets wind of it and warns the other fella off. With threats of force, if need be. Leon got himself a new boyfriend, but Alex soon got to work scaring him away - the car mysteriously trashed in the middle of the night. Nasty encounters in the street. Thinly veiled threats of violence. He was a good bloke and willing to stand his ground, but after what Alex had done to him Leon was frightened of what might happen to this fella, and pushed him away. Since then you're the second man he's really liked and wanted to date, but that lasts about an hour and then he takes fright again and starts making excuses. Only I'm not going to let him keep doing this to himself. He deserves better."

Scott could scarcely square this tale with the man he'd gone to bed with the previous night. "But I still don't understand. Leon - when I was with him, he was masculine, confident - assertive even. This makes no sense at all."

"Leon's very conflicted. It's the product of those years of abuse. He was young when he moved in with Alex, and the scumbag tightened the screw on him over time. It takes courage to break free of a situation like that, and because of Alex's behaviour since he can't do it properly. I've told Leon that if he wants to live the life that he deserves then perhaps he should move well away from Leeds and start over somewhere else, but his close family have all passed on and leaving here would also mean moving away from his friends and having to begin again on his own. Besides, he's reluctant to run away, as he'd see it. Says it would feel as if Alex were still controlling him."

"Except that he is anyway, by not leaving Leon in peace."

"Exactly."

This was all a lot to take in. It certainly sounded like a plausible story - if Tony was spinning him a yarn then he was making a very convincing job of it - but what was Scott meant to do about it? He'd be on his way back down the other end of the country in less than 48 hours, for fuck's sake.

"Listen," Tony said after a few moments of silence between them, "I know that you're just passing through here. You may live hundreds of miles away. Hell, you might have a bloke waiting for you at home for all I know..." A flash of anger crossed Scott's face at the suggestion: the bloody cheek of it! Tony put his hands up in apology, "...OK, sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Just... perhaps there's no chance of your starting a thing with Leon, but could you at least try to talk some sense into him, because I'm getting nowhere and I'm out of ideas. He needs to go back to the police and try to get this nutter dealt with properly, or move away somewhere he can't be found, or both. Nobody should be made to live in limbo... live alone like that, when there's no good reason for it. Especially not a good lad like him."

Being a 'good lad' was no insurance against misfortune or loneliness. Scott knew all too much about that subject. He fidgeted for a minute, rubbing his hand over the rough stubble of his chin and upper lip, thinking about whether or not meddling in the personal life of a near-complete stranger (and risking the wrath of his psycho ex into the bargain) was really such a smart idea.

'Nobody should be made to live in limbo... live alone like that, when there's no good reason for it.'

"OK. Do you know if Leon will be home tomorrow evening?"

 

[george]

Excellent writer, erotic and interesting and hot as fuck!

 

[rugbycockfan]

Excellent writer, erotic and interesting and hot as fuck!

Thanks!

 

[rugbycockfan]

11.

Scott managed to get a decent night's sleep, but the situation did nothing for his concentration at work the next morning. It wasn't so bad as the previous day - at least he wasn't getting all priapic now - but more time was still spent mulling over what he'd do that evening than thinking about the actual job in hand. Would Leon simply refuse to answer the door? Tell him to fuck off? Let him in for a polite conversation and then send him on his way again? Let him in for an impolite conversation, rip his clothes off and bang him senseless in a broad variety of domestic settings?

Oops. Boner. Best not dwell too much on option four...

Mercifully, business was concluded early and the week's work wrapped up at 3:45. Scott decided to go back to the hotel, grab a shower and a change of clothes, and find a pub for an early dinner and a couple of helpings of Dutch courage: Leon's flat wasn't that far away from the hotel - Tony had given him the address and helpful directions the previous evening - so he could leave his motor parked up. He had some clean casual gear left in his luggage, and pulled out from amongst it a pair of jeans and a loose fitting, short sleeved blue and white checked shirt. He slipped on a comfy old pair of trainers and headed off for a boozer a couple of hundred yards down the road that he'd passed when he drove up last Sunday.

Scott dropped into a newsagents halfway to where he was headed, picked up a magazine to read at the bar, and then continued on his way to the pub. The Friday after work traffic hadn't arrived in numbers yet, so it was quiet. He found a stool at the bar, bought a pint, and got reading. Or, at any rate, got looking at the pictures whilst his mind wandered off further down the road to a certain apartment. With a certain man in it.

Scott was lost enough in his own thoughts not to notice the figure who had appeared next to him at the bar, at least not until he spoke.

"Pint of IPA please."

To his right, a beefy looking lad with a shaven head, the bare patches on the scalp revealing that he'd started to go bald and decided to pre-empt Mother Nature and finish the job himself. Scott quickly ran the ruler down him. Five o'clock shadow. Broad neck. Big biceps straining against a Rhinos replica shirt that was probably a size too small for him - not that Scott found the skintight look exactly offputting on this particular gentleman, mind you. Thick, hairy forearms. Tatty old cargo shorts somewhat disguised what was going on in the vital areas - save for the fact that he was clearly trim round the waist - but oh-my-fucking-God those calves were to die for! A couple of stalwart, fur-coated little tree trunks growing out of his chunky trainers, worthy of a good long stare would it not have been quite so blatant. An all-over light spattering of dried-on paint flecks on clothes and skin alike completed the look: obviously a decorator, done with his brush and roller for the day.

Scott ran the ruler back up the man again. Robbed of the ability to pick out flecks of grey in their hair, it was a bit more tricky to assess the likely age of younger bald guys, but Scott reckoned this particular vision of matt emulsion-soiled loveliness was anywhere between about 25 and 35 - i.e. in the ideal range for him.

How very convenient.

But probably straight.

And anyway, he was out tonight to see Leon, not to drool over randoms.

Presently, the barman brought Mr Rhino his pint, and Scott prized his gaze away from his gently flexing muscles and pretended to be reading his magazine again.

"Mind if I grab this seat?" Mr Rhino made Scott jump a little. He'd walked round the back and reapppeared to Scott's left, where there just so happened to be an empty stool available.

"Go ahead mate," said Scott, making fleeting eye contact with the rough workman before feigning interest in the magazine once again.

Mr Rhino takes his seat. "I've not seen you in 'ere before," he said, in a recognisable if not particularly broad Yorkshire accent, "d'you work round these parts?"

So, he wants to talk. That's nice.

As much as Good Scott knew he had a duty to perform this evening, Bad Scott rather enjoyed this particular sort of man. The whole bald head, hairy body, chunky muscles thing felt indicative of a more than ample supply of testosterone. Bad Scott wanted to stop pretending to read boring magazines and start enjoying a pint with attractive company.

Bad Scott won. "Only after a fashion. I've been up here on company business for a week. Just finished. Staying at a hotel just up the road for tonight, then I'm back off home in the morning."

"Ah, right. Just taking some time to wind down before you get packed up to go home, eh? I've just finished on site for the day. Shop fitting job, been giving the whole place a fresh lick of paint... Oh, he's one of the family now, is he? Well well..."

 

[rugbycockfan]

12.

Mr Rhino was looking down at Scott's magazine. It was a gay magazine, open at a double page spread on some rugby league player who'd just decided to come out. Stripped to the waist and showing off his rippling muscles, as guys in these sorts of publications tended to be. Covered in tats, as all too many sportsmen were nowadays, more's the pity.

'One of the family...'

'So,' thought Scott, 'Mr Rhino is gay. I'm gay. Each now knows the other is gay.' Good Scott is out tonight to help Leon, who was going to be Scott's boyfriend and could be still. Good Scott remembers how special, how intense that night with Leon felt. Good Scott knows that Leon is handsome and sexy as fuck and great in bed and that he's probably a very nice guy with very nice friends and is very genuine. Apart from the fact that he lied through his teeth. But he was doing that for honourable reasons, wasn't he?

Bad Scott knows that Mr Rhino is also sexy as fuck, is sat immediately next to him and is potentially available - as distinct from Leon, who is half-a-mile distant, lied to get away from him, and probably won't even answer the door when Scott goes to visit.

Bad Scott wins again. "Yeah, it seems so. I take it from the shirt that you follow the sport? I'm more of a Union man myself, but I'll watch League when it's on. Good sport. Fit lads."

Scott cracks a smile, and so does Mr Rhino. Both men take a pull on their pints, then settle down to talking rugby, whilst checking one another out in a none-too-subtle fashion. Turns out Mr Rhino's name is Richard. Cue a smutty, puerile exchange. Now Scott gets to call him Dick. Dick isn't particularly good looking, but the busted nose and the small scar above the left eye give lend him manly character and a certain rough charm. Dick has big strong hands that grip his half-empty pint glass as securely as they must the handle of his roller - as well as other cylindrical objects. Dick really, really fills that shirt out. And those calves, those calves...

Dick spends about half of his time talking straight to Scott's face, and the other addressing the long, thick, turgid bulge fighting to grow against the constraints of Scott's tight denim. Good Scott can see that Dick is really interested in, well, his dick, and wants to get away before Bad Scott does anything that will cause regret later. Bad Scott just wants to take Dick to the nearest available place - his hotel room, Dick's place, the back of Dick's van - where they can do the dirty.

Bad Scott is still winning. The men's pints are getting empty, and their humour is becoming more bawdy and suggestive. Scott's tackle is really uncomfortable now. He can't tell for certain through those baggy shorts whether or not Dick is boning up too, but he'd bet real money on it. Scott wants to have sex with Dick, and Scott's pretty confident that Dick wants to have sex with him.

The men empty the last drop of beer from their pints. Good Scott makes one final attempt to raise a moral force field between the two horny blokes. Or at least buy a little time to do so.

"Can I stand you another pint mate?"

"Nah, I can't, I'm driving. I need to get home and wash all this shit off anyway. I've got plenty of beer in the fridge though - I don't suppose you'd fancy coming back with me and sharing a few?"

Good Scott insists that a promise was made to Leon's friend to help him out, that Scott knew he could be on to a really good thing, and that just because some juicy steak is now available it doesn't mean he should take a bite. Bad Scott says that Leon shat on him from a great height, and why shouldn't he just forget about him and have a good roll in the sack with another man?

Good Scott then recalls that Leon got thrown out of the hotel room in the first place for supposedly being a tart, and that if he now goes to bed with another man when he's meant to be riding to his potential boyfriend's rescue then that will wreck any chance of what he felt when they were together taking root and growing. Even if Scott were to try to rescue the situation tomorrow and Leon were to show renewed interest, the dirty secret would spread its putrid corruption through Scott's conscience and out into their relationship.

Whether all of this would be enough to brand Scott definitively as a shit was open to question. But it would certainly make him feel like one.

Finally, Good Scott wins the war. "Well, I can't say that I'm not tempted by your offer, but - there's this bloke I've got feelings for, and I'm going to visit him tonight. We're not seeing each other at the moment and I don't know if he wants to, but I can't be out with other men until I know for sure."

Dick let out a bit of a sigh and dropped his head for a moment, before replying, "Fair enough mate. Fair enough. But if you should ever find yourself passing this way again and you're free to... enjoy yourself..."

"If circumstances were different then I'd really like to have gone with you."

Dick gave a wry smile, jumped off the stool and left, taking those million pound calves and a heady scent - turpentine laced with a little sweat and beer, although Scott could almost swear the he could detect the stink of raw testosterone underneath it all - out of the door with him.

Scott gave the bar one good kick of frustration, and then ordered a second pint. Down below, his erection collapsed like a failed souffle.

 

[Gj816]

Good. I'm still poised at Leon for lying. Keep it up. You are the man @rugbycockfan

 

[rugbycockfan]

13.

Presently, Scott finished his beer and his listless leafing through the pages of the magazine, and got up and left. It was just before six, and based on what Tony had told him he expected that Leon would most likely be home from work by now. He wasn't really hungry, especially after the letdown of having to resist the temptation of Dick's dick, but he bought a bag of chips from the shop next door and set off to see if he could somehow rekindle a spark between himself and Leon. It was dusk by now on a chilly March evening, but the main road was well lit and signposted and Leon's place was located just off a roundabout that Scott could already see in the distance. It wasn't very long before he found the small block of flats Tony described - six of them, arranged over three floors.

Scott knew that Leon was up on the top floor - and he could tell that his flat was the one nearest to where he now stood, because he could see him up there, mug in hand, leaning on the railing of a Juliet balcony, looking across the road to the small park and the houses beyond. He'd not looked down and seen Scott, so the unexpected visitor about to announce his presence would be a complete surprise. Scott hoped that he wouldn't be too unwelcome.

Relaxed somewhat by the alcohol in his system but still feeling pretty nervous, Scott walked up to the panel on the main entrance, pushed the buzzer for Leon's place, and waited.

And waited.

After a period of perhaps thirty seconds that felt more like thirty minutes, an answer: "Hello?"

"Leon, it's Scott here. I think we need to talk."

Silence.

"Leon?"

"Tony put you up to this, didn't he? For fuck's sake... you don't know what you're getting yourself into. Please, please just leave me alone."

"Leon, he's worried about you. I'm worried about you. Just let me - Leon, mate? Oh come on!"

The low buzzing tone from the intercom had stopped. Leon had obviously hung up. Scott backed away from the building and looked up at that balcony, wondering for a moment what the Hell to do. And then a plan formed. It wasn't much of a plan. It was a shit plan, actually, but it's all that he had.

Start yelling.

"Leon! I'm not going away 'til you talk to me, Leon. Do you want me to stand outside all night, shouting myself hoarse and pissing off all the neighbours?"

Silence.

"It's starting to get a bit chilly out here mate. I'm going to be freezing my bollocks off in another couple of hours. Will that make you happy? Well?"

Silence.

"Listen you stubborn bastard: you have two choices. Either let me up there this instant so we can have a grown-up conversation, and then I'll go and not come back if that's what you're sure you want. Or you can leave me standing out on the pavement, in which case I'll have no choice but to shout whatever wisdom I think I have to impart straight up to you from the street. And I'm not afraid to include all the personal stuff, if it'll help lever you out of the rut you're stuck in right now."

Silence. This was starting to get really annoying.

"Fine. I don't regret that we had SEX, Leon! You're very GOOD IN BED, actually. A little bit KINKY, perhaps, but it was great. Really fucking brilliant GAY ANAL SEX, Leon!"

Success! Leon reappeared at the balcony and answered back. "Fine Scott, you win. You can come in if you just shut up."

Scott jogged up the staircase and found Leon stood in the doorway of his flat with his arms folded and looking distinctly unimpressed. "I'm going to strangle Tony the next time I see him. Come on in, I'll make us both a cup of tea or something."

Leon's place was clean and tidy, if a little on the minimal side. "Go and park yourself in there, I'll be through in a minute." Scott tried to figure out Leon's mood from body language clues and his tone of voice. It was like meeting a different guy to the one who, frankly, had seduced him - and then given him some of the best sex he'd had in years - only two nights ago. He was washed out, miserable, possibly depressed and maybe even plain bored by the inevitability of it all. Tony had told Scott the story: new guys in Leon's life flit in and out from time to time, typically leaving no trace of their existence, and even the few that he really likes never last very long and leave him hurting worse than he did before.

Now, why did that tale sound so familiar?

 

[Beuker]

Wow so good ... keep going

 

[rugbycockfan]

14.

"Milk? Sugar?"

"Milk, no sugar, please."

Leon appeared with the teas and sat down next to Scott on the sofa. He stared straight ahead, fidgeting, picking away at his fingernails. "I'm sorry that things turned out like this Scott. I was thinking with my cock when I went near you in the first place. Tony's told you about how fucked up I am, hasn't he? I was selfish and stupid..."

"There's nothing selfish and stupid about your fancying me Leon. I mean, cruising me in the locker room might've been a bit reckless, but then I fell for what you were doing hook, line and sinker. It was actually pretty bloody hot, as you well know."

"And then we fucked Scott, and it was good, and then I lied to you and it wasn't good anymore. That was what we had, Scott - a fuck and a lie. That was all we had. So, why are you here?"

"Because I made a connection with you Leon. And you with me..."

"It. Was. Just. A. Fuck. Scott."

"Yeah, right - tell me that every time you pick up a bloke it's like that. Tell me that it didn't start out exciting, then go all-out mindblowing, and finally end up gentle and intimate. Tell me that every man you've ever picked up and screwed and then left behind the next morning made you wonder whether you should, whether you were even capable of, going on for year after lonely year and fuck after pointless fuck, when there might - just might - be a chance of something better."

Scott was trying to put the case to Leon. In reality he was just as much talking to himself, and he knew it.

Leon broke his stare across the room and turned to Scott, anxiety etched into his features. "But you see where this is all going to end, surely? Alex is sick. If I get seriously involved with another man then I can't keep him safe. I can't keep you safe, Scott, if you have anything more to do with me."

"But you can't spend the rest of your life living inside an invisible cage made by your ex-partner, either. Any more than I can spend the rest of my life wondering what might have been if I'd only helped you to smash the bars on that fucking cage. And life's so damned short, Leon. We have to take our chances when they come, because they may not come again."

"Scott, I..."

"Be my boyfriend, Leon."

"But Alex..."

"I don't give a shit about Alex. I piss on Alex. Fuck Alex. Be my boyfriend."

"This is madness! You live, what, 200 bloody miles away?"

"I own a car. A thing for travelling long distances. Be my boyfriend."

"Scott! A naughty shag is no basis on which to start a meaningful relationship. What do we actually have in common?"

"Rubbish. Plenty of successful relationships, gay and straight, happen after couples have sex on the first date..."

"Now that was hardly a date, Scott..."

"Don't interrupt. It's rude."

"But you did?"

"That was different. Now where were we? Ah yes - we have working out and hot, hot sex in common. The rest we can find out about as we go along. It'll be a wonderful voyage of discovery. Be my boyfriend."

"But... but what do we do about all the petrol money?"

"Now you're just inventing feeble excuses. I fancy you, you fancy me, and frankly we both need a good man in our lives. We neither of us can be sure that we're each others' Mr Right, it's true, but if we don't give it a go we'll never know. Be my boyfriend."

"OK, SCOTT!" Leon displayed a flash of temper, then got back to picking nervously at his nails. Scott felt very sorry for Leon, and even more sorry for those nails. It was a wonder he had any left. "Enough. I'll think about it, alright? I... want this. Yes, I think I do want this. But I'm not sure that I'm ready, yet." Leon had been a scared man under considerable pressure for a long time. Scott had the good sense not to push his luck with further nagging.

"OK mate. We'd better swap numbers, then I'll be on my way. I'll be heading back home in the morning, but this phone is always on and I'm usually able to answer it unless I'm driving or in a meeting at work. Don't be a stranger."

The men finished up their tea, and keyed their numbers into each others' phones. Scott also thought to give Leon his address. Scott had come to see Leon hoping for the best - that they would end up as boyfriends and share a bed again tonight - whilst fearing for the worst: an outright rejection. He would have to settle for something inbetween.

This thing - him and Leon - might not end up going anywhere. But at least, for now, it wasn't over.

They went to the door. Leon undid the catch.

"Thank you for letting me up to see you Leon."

"It's not like I had much choice. Having you bellowing like a rhinoceros in labour about 'gay anal sex' within earshot of half the neighbourhood might be thought of as a little undignified. But at least you don't have to live around here afterwards."

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

Leon managed a thin smile. It was a relief for Scott to see something out of him other than a mask of depression. "It's OK Scott. I feel like... I've just been going through the motions, repeating the same mistakes. At least you've forced me to think. And I don't think I'd have got that far without you. Thanks."

"Glad to have done something to help. You make sure you take good care of yourself now, OK?"

"You too Scott. Oh, and one more thing." Leon leant in, and planted a single, tender kiss on Scott's lips. That he had not been expecting. Leon didn't try to hug him, or otherwise start working Scott over with his hands, and Scott was a gentleman in return. A considerable feat of self-restraint, given how that precious touch sent a little shiver travelling up his spine.

"Goodnight Scott. Stay safe."

"You too Leon. Goodnight."

Scott headed off into the stairwell, and heard the door close and lock behind him. His erstwhile lover shutting himself away from the world. Away from him. But at least it wasn't over.

Setting off back down the road to his hotel, Scott barely registered the presence of a large, hulking figure sat at the wheel of one of the row of cars parked up just down the street from Leon's building - still less the whirring into life of the engine after he walked past, and the driver pulling out and away in the opposite direction.

 

[Gj816]

Keep going.

 

[nudeguy1958]

@rugbycockfan, amazing writing. I glued to your story

 

[rugbycockfan]

15.

As the open fire crackled beside him - far enough away to be comfortable, close enough to soothe him with its radiant warmth and playful light - Scott reclined on the plush blankets and cushions that were scattered upon the floor. Leon lay down on top of him, and the two lovers revelled in the full body contact. The sensuality of two naked, aroused men, hands all over one another, legs entwined, torsos locked together, penises gently but firmly grinding between each others' bodies and sliding past each other. Feeling Leon's weight and power. Feeling his own muscles flex. Sharing a deep, probing, moist and intimate kiss. The anticipation of the most perfect night of lovemaking - great storms of passionate sex, punctuated by the sweet, gentle rainfall of mutual tenderness and care.

Leon started to move down Scott's body, and Scott lifted his knees to his chest in response. They both knew what they wanted right now, and Scott was going to make it so, so easy for Leon to eat out his arse. Leon paused only to teasingly slide his wet tongue twice up and down the length of Scott's cock, before getting right down to business - plunging that rasping, needy, willing tongue right into Scott's...

"Beep beep beep beep beep!"

Scott waved an arm in the general direction of the snooze button, and made several good hard slapping motions until one of them succeeded in silencing the racket.

It had all been a dream. Obviously.

Of course, it would at least have been a much nicer dream if events had been allowed to take their course, but Scott - the stupid fucker - had forgotten to turn off his alarm. Because it was now Saturday, and there was no particular need to haul out of bed at six o'fucking clock.

Well, now he was up and about he reckoned that he might as well make productive use of the time. The hotel gym was open from six, so he went down there for a hard, let's try to exercise away my frustration rather than walk around all day with a raging boner, workout. This was followed by shower time (three other blokes in locker room, all rather fit, but absolutely no shenanigans attempted by anyone, thank God,) and then breakfast. Scott was packed, checked out and on his way back down South by 9:30.

By this point he had already checked his phone at least four or five times for any messages from Leon, but as yet there came none. This was surely a bad sign: if Leon were really that interested in him, then he would've decided to take the plunge and accept Scott's offer by now. Then again, it might well be a good sign: Leon was obviously worried about getting Scott involved in the whole psycho ex dynamic, so if he'd managed to cope with those worries so far then perhaps that meant that he was ready to start dating him.

Or maybe this actually meant diddly squat, and Scott was overanalysing a situation over which he had no control in any event. Leon would contact him when he was good and ready, and if the final decision was 'thanks, but no thanks' then Scott would simply have to accept that he'd never see Leon again, and move on with his life. Or, at any rate, try to move on, following an extended period of depression and general moping morose misery making about the universal rubbishness of men, how he was going to be left on the shelf to die, and how he'd probably be halfway to being married now if only he'd gone and shagged Rhino Dick instead.

The whole situation was hard - and in more ways than one. Images of Leon doing various naughty things to Scott kept flashing across his mind at inappropriate moments, particularly when trying to concentrate on driving at seventy miles per hour down the central Southbound lane of the M1. At one point, during a particularly vivid recollection of being wanked to orgasm in the hotel gym showers, he very nearly caused a serious accident - and he still hadn't got as far as Nottingham yet. His huge, throbbing, drooling cock simply insisted upon attention: an emergency wank was needed.

Scott couldn't just pull onto the hard shoulder and whip it out, of course. Not unless he wanted to risk inviting unfriendly enquiries from officers of the local constabulary. He took the slip road at the next junction, and went right round the roundabout twice before spotting a sign for a picnic area. Perfect. Nobody goes for picnics in March. He followed the trail of friendly little brown signs with a tree and a table on them for three miles or so until he reached the turning and, of course, found the car park deserted. And there was a lovely, secluded overspill car park down a short track at the far end of the main one. Even better.

At this point, Good Scott said that public acts of masturbation are not a very sensible idea, especially in the age of the near-universal cameraphone and most especially when you have a very prominent organ which cannot be quickly and easily concealed again. But Bad Scott was quite insistent on having his jollies this time, and besides Good Scott had been sent to the doghouse since putting his foot down over a much desired beer-and-banging session with the highly fuckworthy Rhino Dick. So this time, Bad Scott won.

Scott pulled up at the far end of the overspill car park and hurriedly rummaged in the glove compartment for some tissues, which he knew he'd seen in there when he picked up the pool car for his outward journey last week. He wanted to do his best not to end up making very suspicious looking stains on the upholstery, about which the next user might well complain with potentially disastrous career consequences, but at this moment Bad Scott was firmly in charge and he was going to bloody well crack one off the wrist regardless of whether he hosed down his suit, his face, the seat, the dashboard or all of them at once with his pent up reservoir of piping hot spunk. A wad of tissues was eventually found, a trouser belt and zip undone, and boxer briefs yanked and held down at the front to fully release the monster, standing to attention for all the world like an eleven-inch length of steel pipe that had been artfully painted in realistic flesh tones. Said pipe was taken in hand and subjected to a strong, smooth, silky up-and-down pressure applied by one very experienced right hand, accompanied by the sweet music of Scott's soft moans.

Unfortunately, he'd been in so much of a hurry that he'd not noticed the two other cars parked some way off to his left, or the two gentlemen in flagrante delicto on a picnic table about forty yards distant and almost directly in front of him. They, on the other hand, soon noticed him.

Scott pumped his rod increasingly rapidly, his eyes screwed closed, his mind revelling in the exquisite memory of getting banged in the arse by Leon. It was at this moment that he opened his eyes, and saw some skinny lad getting banged in the arse on a picnic table by a fat bloke in a hi-vis vest (probably not the most intelligent choice of clothing in which to do a spot of discrete dogging) and a pair of builders' boots. Both gentlemen were frozen mid-shag, as if posing for an artist, staring at Scott pleasuring himself. Two pairs of eyes darted back and forth between Scott's horrified face and his lengthy fuckpole. Two mouths were hanging open slightly - although whether this was purely out of astonishment, or by way of an invitation to bring that tasty meat lollipop over and join in the fun, Scott wasn't about to go and find out. He spent about five seconds desperately trying to stuff his cock back into his drawers and rearrange himself into some semblance of decency, before slamming the car fast into reverse and getting the fuck out of there.

Miraculously in this day and age, Scott was virtually certain that neither of the two men were filming their activities on mobile phones, and thus any possibility of footage involving his cock, his face and the number plate of the pool car appearing on a choice selection of pornographic websites was averted. A quick fumble with belt and zip was made in the relative safety of the main car park, before he drove back towards the motorway to put as much distance between him and the scene of the crime as possible.

The shock of the unintended act of exhibitionism quickly subsided, and Scott soon began to have very shameful thoughts about how much those two blokes probably enjoyed having an audience, and especially seeing a great huge cock being wanked off. He wasn't a pervy flasher, he said to himself, it had all been an accident - but the fact that he was now getting some kind of vicarious thrill over his self-exposure simply increased the embarrassment of it all by about 300%. And none of this did anything at all to help calm down his practically priapic member. His punishment was to endure another two-and-a-half hours of turgid torment before he finally got home and could meet his needs in privacy, which is what Good Scott - now restored to his rightful position as chief moral guidance advisor - was trying to tell him to do in the first place, if only he had cared to listen.

And at the end of the rotten journey there was still not a peep from Leon. In all kinds of ways, he now seemed so very far away.

 

[Gj816]

You sir are addictive. Waiting for the next chapter.

 

[rugbycockfan]

16.

Scott's nights continued to be filled with vivid, erotic dreams of Leon - both memories of that precious first encounter, and fantasies of what might yet come to pass - but coming back home helped his days return to some semblance of normality. Yes, he still waited anxiously for Leon's decision, but his sex drive shifted back down from rampant to the usual mildly horny and he found that, remarkably, he could once more pass whole hours of the day without thinking about sex at all. He caught the late afternoon Premier League game on TV that Saturday, ordered a takeaway curry, did a little bit of work stuff and walked down to the village pub for a pint. Sunday was mostly spent visiting family - parents, then older brother - and he made sure to top up the fuel in the pool car out of his own wallet, before heading back down the pub again in the evening to take part in the weekly quiz. Monday he was back to the daily grind, which also meant handing back the keys to the pool car and a taxi ride over to the garage to pick his own motor back up after servicing and repair. That was a relief: using the gearstick on the shitty pool car felt like stirring a bowl of porridge.

And finally, just as he pulled up on the drive outside his house after the gym on Monday night, Leon texted. Twice.

Scott's thumb hovered over the screen for a moment whilst he took a couple of deep breaths and found the balls to open them. First message: 'Yes.' His heart started racing even faster. Did that mean...? Second message: 'I'm your boyfriend. Call me. L xxx'

A wave of elation mixed with relief spread over Scott, along with a huge grin across his face. He wouldn't be keeping Leon waiting for an answer. He dialled straight back and waited for one, two, three rings...

"Hello Scott."

"Hi Leon. So, you decided to take me up on my offer?"

"Yeah... Listen, I'm sorry for keeping you waiting for so long. When you came to my place and you told me how much you wanted to give us a shot at being together I really, really wanted to just say yes. I wanted to hold on to you, to not let you go that night, to take you into my bed. It's just... it hasn't worked out before. And I was afraid of getting hurt all over again, and of hurting you."

Scott listened as Leon had started hesitantly, his mood then brightening, but had finally lapsed back into fragility. This would never do. Scott felt like a million dollars when Leon had agreed to date him, and he wanted Leon to feel just as good about himself.

"You don't have to apologise for anything Leon. I don't blame you for being cautious around men - God knows you've already been through enough. My love life hasn't always been a bed of roses either, so I do understand. But that's all water under the bridge. I remember how the sparks flew when we first met, how great you made me feel, and I'm just glad I've got the chance to give this a go. Being with you... it just seems like there's this chemistry happening. And I want to get to know you a lot better."

"And I you Scott. And I'm so glad you came round and forced me to listen to some common sense. I mean, Tony and my other mates have been telling me time and again not to let Alex rule my life. And I've tried to put him behind me, but when someone... has a grip on you like he had on me, and then he just won't let go..."

Scott could feel in Leon's voice how he was wrestling with his emotions. That bastard ex-boyfriend of his had really messed with his head. He remembered what Tony had said, about Leon trying to get close to guys and then pushing them away because of Alex. Scott would put up a real fight to stop that happening again.

"I meant what I said when we were last together, in your flat. Fuck Alex. He has no right to control you, none. And I'm certainly not letting him control me, either. Whatever shit he comes out with, we'll face it together."

A lingering moments' silence. Then, Leon answered. "Alex is going to give me a lot of grief when he finds out I'm dating again. And you as well. He's very possessive of me Scott, and he thinks he can force me to go back to him with his abuse. He... he saw you outside my flat on Friday night."

Fucking bastard. Tony was right. He really was some kind of stalker. What kind of fucking weirdo stakes out their ex's home? Scott's free hand, already balled into a fist, tightened up, the knuckles blanching.

Leon continued. "He saw me let you in. I know you weren't there for very long, but he knows we're interested in one another. I had texts from him later that evening, and over the weekend. It's pretty nasty stuff, the sort of shit I start getting every time he thinks I might have a new boyfriend."

"Well, you have got a new boyfriend - and it's none of your ex's fucking business. I think you could do with getting well away from all this hassle. I was thinking... would you like to come down here and stay at my place this weekend?"

Scott paused for a moment, as it dawned on him that this had all happened so quickly that he didn't know when Leon might be free to travel, or how he might get there. Did he have a car? Was he a shift worker - actually, what did he do for a living, anyway?

"Yeah, I'd really like that. I don't drive, but I can catch a train down to Kings Cross and then come back out again. I looked up where you live, if I come up via Liverpool Street..."

"Don't worry about all that, just get off at Stevenage and I'll drive over and pick you up. And you must let me help you with the fare - it'll cost you a bloody fortune!"

"Thanks, that'll make life a whole lot easier. As for the money, it's OK, I can afford it. Besides, I'll be spending the weekend eating you out of house and home. I expect I'll be hungry. Hard exercise always makes a man hungry, don't you think?"

Scott mulled over the fact that Leon had obviously already been looking at how to make the journey over to his place, and was clearly eager to do so. And then he figured out what sort of 'hard exercise' Leon probably had in mind. His new man was being smutty - and that, Scott reasoned based on his limited experience of Leon, was enough to suggest that he was relaxing. No longer worrying about Alex, but starting to look forward to their reunion.

Meanwhile, Scott's cock was unrelaxing, and becoming more unrelaxed by the second.

"Scott?"

"Yes mate?"

"Where are you right now?

"Sat in my car on the drive, just outside my house."

"The drive?! Oooh la la! We are a country gent, aren't we?"

Scott laughed. "It's a little strip of gravel outside a three bedroom cottage. It ain't exactly Windsor Castle you know!"

"Yeah, OK, I'm being a cheeky bastard. Now, can you help me with something?"

"I'd like to be able to help with your cock - if it's as hard as mine is by now, that is."

"It is. I'm hard as fucking steel mate. And you can help me with it. Now, get your sexy arse out of that car and into your house. Then go up the bedroom and get your kit off. I'll ring you back in five."

Leon hung up, and Scott did exactly as he was told - eager to release the beast from the increasingly uncomfortable confines of his snug-fitting underwear. He had a pretty good idea of what Leon wanted to do next and, as he stripped off and sprawled on the bed naked, he was glad that the bedside cabinets were well stocked with appropriate supplies...

 

[Gj816]

Good read mate, waiting.........

 

[rugbycockfan]

Good read mate, waiting.........

I'm working on it fella. Posts here have almost caught up with where I am in the story now. Future posts may slow down a little...

 

[EdWoody]

You're an excellent writer. The stories that have emotion as well as passion are always the ones that capture me most, and you have that in spades. Plus, you actually know how to put a sentence together. Too much written porn is created by people who have no idea how to use grammar and punctuation properly, or build a plot or develop a character. But you're an actual author, and that makes the story much easier to get into and enjoy. Well done, I look forward to more. There just better be a happy ending!

 

[rugbycockfan]

17.

Scott took out one of his clean-up towels and a pump bottle of lube, and slicked up his hardon, gently but firmly pumping his cock with his right hand as he waited to answer Leon's call with his left. Just the thought of talking dirty with Leon, his new boyfriend - that sounded good! - was enough to have him fully erect, his tight cut knob-end already full, swollen, increasingly sensitive to the touch. He closed his eyes, ran his hand the length of his cock from the base to the tip, and then - remembering how Leon had controlled and manhandled it in the gym shower - he squeezed the head. A low moan escaped his lips as his cock twitched.

The phone rang. Scott answered immediately. He was thrilled at the sound of Leon's deep, coarse tones.

"Hello again Scott. Are you having a good time, stroking that long, thick cock?"

"I am. I'm hard from thinking about you."

"And what is it you're thinking about me, right now?"

"Your hand, wrapped around it. Stroking it. Squeezing it. Bringing me off in the shower."

"You enjoyed that, didn't you Scott? Having my fist wrapped around that hot, wet cock. Pleasuring it. Taking charge of it. Directing it. Making you fucking cum all over the fucking floor when I wanted you to."

"Hell yeah! I'm so damn hard already, just remembering what it was like. How hard I came when you touched me."

"And I know what else really got you off about that shower. Me finger fucking that hot, sweet, tight arse of yours."

Scott recalled how Leon had taken advantage of his vulnerable arsehole and jammed a finger right up it. Opening him up, working it against the arse wall. Taking him in a way most men didn't even dare attempt. Brazenly treating him as a bottom boy.

Scott groaned. "Yes. You pushed it right into me."

"I wasn't sure Scott, but I gambled that you'd like it. And we both knew that very instant that I was right, didn't we? I bet you've had so many lovers who were so busy drooling over that big fat cock that they never worked out what I understood about you in the first few minutes. You love to take it up the arse, don't you Scott?"

Scott did indeed love taking it up the arse - from Leon. It had been different with other men. Bottoming with some guys had been fun. Others were, frankly, pretty rubbish as tops. None of them had dared treat him the way Leon had though. Scott wasn't sure if this was a dom-sub thing - he'd never been into power games before, in any role - but he certainly knew who'd been in charge when he and Leon had had sex. So often, guys stood in awe of Scott's cock - Leon, however, had his own ideas about how to enjoy it.

"Taking it up the arse from you felt... very good."

"I'm naked here on my bed Scott - and very, very hard thinking about your sexy backside. Thinking about taking you with my hands. My tongue. My cock. How much did you enjoy being fucked by me in all those different ways, Scott?"

"It was great. Great, having you inside of me."

"I'm wishing I'd not sent you away, that night you came to my flat. Wishing I'd pulled your kit off, got you naked. Wishing I'd fucked you."

"Hell yeah Leon!" Scott was getting increasingly worked up. Stroking his dick faster. Feeling the shaft getting incredibly stiff within his grasp. Feeling his veins pumped so full of blood, hardened, pulsing, spreading vitality through his manhood, heightening his arousal with every passing second.

"I want to fuck you in the bed, on the floor, on the sofa, in the shower, up against the wall. Face-to-face, from behind, every which fucking way we can think of. I know you want it. I know how hungry your arse is."

"It's very hungry. It's hungry for you, Leon."

"Then remember when I was last with you - and think about all the things I'm going to do to you when we're next together. Think about me fucking you Scott."

"Oh God yeah!"

"Then close your eyes, and work your hand down that cock, over your balls, and down towards that hole, Scott. You know it craves attention. Think of my fingers, working their way up your arse. Get your fingers in there, Scott."

Scott ran his hand slowly down the length of his hardon, through the coarse hair of his ball sac and down, deep between his legs, locating the hole. Slick fingers worked their way around the entrance, circling and moistening it. There wasn't that much lube on them, but it was enough. He pushed himself open, sliding the middle finger in to the first knuckle. Gasping, he saw Leon in his mind's eye, naked on the bed next to him, pushing his finger slowly up that tight arse. Fingering Scott. Lubing him up. Getting Scott ready to be fucked with a nice hard cock.

"I wish you were inside me mate, right now. I want you inside me, and outside me. I want you all over me." Scott wanted to feel Leon's power, his weight, his masculine body pressing down on him. To run his hands over Leon's sweat-slick skin as his lover pumped his arse relentlessly. And he wanted to give his whole body over to this man. To be used - and pleasured.

"Soon mate, very soon. I'm so hard for you Scott. So hard that I'm leaking. Slicking my cock with precum, just imagining having sex with you again. I'm going to want you as soon as we get back to your place on Saturday. I'll catch the first train I can, you can pick me up and bring me back home, and then I'm going to have you - right there, in your own bed. Work your hole Scott, work it hard with those fingers. I'll be there with you, working it with my cock, in a few days."

Scott moaned for the bone, breaching his own defences with a second finger and then pushing both digits in to the hilt.

"That's it Scott. You so love taking it up the arse. I can hear it in your voice. I'm going to fuck you so, so hard, mate. Make you cry my name out loud. Make you beg."

"Oh shit mate, I want to cum!"

"I'm close too Scott. Do you want to keep this going a bit longer, or shall we shoot our loads together, now?"

"Now Leon. Please, now." Scott grunted as he pulled his fingers out of his arsehole, and wrapped his fist round his cock once again. He didn't know if he'd be able to cum quickly just through penetration, like he had when Leon took him, especially without the feeling of his lover's hot body covering him. That, and he was just plain desperate by now to relieve his balls - drawn up, as they were, tight in his bag and full of the promise of hot, spurting semen.

Leon moaned loud and deep at the other end of the phone, as he shot his bolt first. The noise drove Scott to the brink, and with a few hard pulls he also tipped over the edge, his dick throbbing and pulsing in his hand as he blasted out his cum. The first waves spattered Scott's chin, neck and chest, soon giving way to a more leisure release as the last of it oozed forth, running down the shaft, slicking his cock and his hand alike as he gently eased down through the gears. His rapid pump action slowed to a leisurely stroke as he luxuriated in the afterglow.

 

[rugbycockfan]

18.

As they recovered their breath, Scott and Leon each told the other how hard they'd cum - and eroticism quickly gave way to laughter, as the men described the sticky mess to which they'd both been reduced, and their valiant attempts to clear it all up. At least - unlike in the hotel - there would be no need for the bedclothes to be washed in the morning. They talked again about the arrangements for Leon to come down and stay at the weekend, how much they were both looking forward to getting together again, and then Scott made a deadpan remark about which of the spare rooms he thought Leon would prefer to sleep in. Leon thought he was being serious for a moment, then told Scott to fuck off - but it was all in good humour. Scott told Leon a little about his house, and the village in which it was to be found. Leon told Scott a little bit about his job, and what sort of day he'd had at work. There was no further mention of Alex, and no more phone sex either. A first for their brand new relationship: a conversation all about cosy domesticity, eschewing the themes of anxiety or sex.

There would doubtless be plenty of time to talk dirty - and, sadly, plenty more to be said about the psycho ex - in the weeks and months ahead.

Before the men knew it an hour had passed, and Scott thought it was probably past time for coffee, and for dinner as well. Part of him also wanted to carry on talking to Leon all evening, but at length he wished his man goodnight and went for a quick shower to clean himself up, before heading down to the kitchen.

About halfway through cooking dinner - a quick fix of pasta and shop-bought sauce - Scott's phone trilled out a text message alert. Ryan, his older brother, inviting him over for dinner again on Sunday. Their cousin was visiting from Ireland, and it would be a chance to catch up with her. Normally he'd have been happy to come over - eager, indeed, for the company - but Scott had very definite plans for the weekend. These, broadly speaking, involved him and Leon with no company and probably no clothes, either. It felt way too early for telling Ryan he had a new boyfriend, and certainly too early for pitching the poor guy head first into family gatherings. Scott concocted a work-related excuse and cried off; cousin Angela was arriving on Thursday, so he wangled himself an invite for Friday night instead.

Two minutes after that, a message from Leon: 'Hey sexy. Enjoy dinner? xxx'

'Not yet mate. Still on hob. Will be done in a few mins.'

'Oh yeah? My man has a hot body AND can cook as well. Gets better by the minute! I've already finished mine. Packet. Microwave.'

'It's pasta with sauce from a jar. But sure I can come up with something better at the weekend. Need to make sure my new fella doesn't go hungry xx'

'Sure. We'll both be needing a lot of energy at the weekend. What you wearing right now? An apron and nothing else?'

'Oi! T-shirt and shorts mate. You think I spend the whole time in my house hanging out naked?'

'You don't? How tragic :"('

'Well... I might make an exception for the right company xxxx'

Scott, stood in the kitchen with no underwear on, began to tent his loose grey jersey shorts, his dick lengthening lazily and pointing off to the left at just below horizontal. Un-noticed whilst he and Leon were sexting one another, the alarm had counted down to zero. It began its insistent chirping. He set about draining the pasta and plating up dinner.

Another reply from Leon: 'I bet you have a black book full of men who'd love to be the 'right company' Should I be getting nervous?'

'Cheeky fucker! You'd think I was some sort of slag. Anyhow, I only have eyes for one man right now xxx' And that was the truth. Scott didn't have too much trouble bedding men when he really felt the need for sex. But there hadn't been anyone regular, let alone special, for a long time.

'And just who would this lucky bloke happen to be?'

'This fiery redhead. Athletic. Very handsome. Hot as hell in the sack. Altogether gorgeous xxxx'

'Sounds amazing. Is this somebody I've met before?'

'OK OK, that's enough fishing for compliments mate. And my dinner's getting cold.'

Scott sat down to eat in front of the telly in the living room - leaving his phone in the kitchen for a few minutes as he tried to concentrate on eating - and did his best to ignore his boner. That only lasted as long as it took to eat the meal and dump the plate in the sink; the washing up could wait until the morning. Scott took his phone upstairs and traded dirty messages with Leon as he stroked himself gently, finally shooting another big, hot load before falling contentedly to sleep.

 

[rugbycockfan]

19.

There was a definite spring in Scott's step when he arrived at work the next morning. He'd thought, on the drive in, that he really ought to try to disguise just how good he was feeling in case this should provoke awkward questions, but he found it impossible. It took about five seconds for at least one of his workmates to put two and two together.

"Good morning Scott! Someone looks like the cat who got the cream this morning. What's all this grinning in aid of, then? No, wait: it's a new man, isn't it?"

Scott's smile spread wider across his face and, rather embarrassingly, he thought he could feel his cheeks starting to burn just a little. Jane had, as usual, read him like a book. A smartly-dressed lady in her fifties, she was one of the small team who worked for him and his boss in the marketing department. Her eyes shone behind her glasses as she grinned mischievously. "Well, come on then, do tell. Who is he? Where did you meet?"

"You're so nosy Jane. I mean, honestly - I've barely known the guy for a week..."

"Oh! You must've met him whilst you were up in Leeds then? Long distance romance, how exciting... He doesn't work for the firm, does he? Is it someone I know already?"

Scott exhaled and rolled his eyes. "No, Jane. I'm not sleeping with..."

"You've... already?! You naughty so-and-so!" Scott was starting to blush properly by now. The guys at the nearby desks could scarcely be failing to hear all of this. The whole story would be all the way through the offices and round most of the plant as well by the end of the day. "You weren't out painting the town red each evening after work, were you? Met somebody nice in a bar?"

"I was NOT out on the lash every night, thank you very much..." Scott hesitated for a moment, remembering his first encounter with Leon. The details of that evening most definitely were NOT a suitable topic for polite conversation. "I... we met at the gym. There's one attached to the hotel where I was staying. I like to keep up with my exercise..."

"So it would seem. Exercise, followed by... sexercise? Is he very muscly? Mmmmm..."

At the next desk, Dan had stopped pretending to by typing up whatever the Hell it was that he was working on and was listening intently to the conversation, smirking at the salacious gossip. There were no mirrors in the room, but if there was one available Scott was sure he'd see a bright red face looking back at him by now. He held his hands up to cut off the chatter. But he was still grinning broadly.

"OK, OK, enough! Can we not spend the whole morning talking about my love life, Jane? Go on, back to work," Scott nodded momentarily to Dan, "and you too, you cheeky git." Scott turned and headed off to seek refuge in his small private office. Jane called after him "Do we at least get to know a name?"

Scott opened his office door, then turned his head, "Leon. He's called Leon." And he went in, and shut the door behind him.

Scott sat down at his desk, took a long, deep breath out, and then shook his head, chuckling to himself. He was planning on keeping his relationship with Leon their own little secret, perhaps just letting one or two friends in on it, until he was more certain that there was a future for them both. That plan was already right out the window: he should've known perfectly well that Jane would rumble him immediately. Scott had always been the sort of guy who wore his heart on his sleeve and, whilst his attempts to disguise his feelings were enough to fool some of the people some of the time when he really put his mind to it, there was no way he was going to get this past 'Mrs Marple' - even if he hadn't, in fact, been in such a good mood that it had proven pretty much impossible to hide in the first place.

He switched the computer on, entered his password, and then put his hands behind his head whilst he waited for it to finish booting, lacing his fingers together and closing his eyes contentedly. There was a progress meeting on the new campaign - to get a foothold in the US for one of the firm's latest generic offerings - at 10:30, and then a lot of financial crap to wade through and sign off later in the day, but for the first part of the morning Scott could essentially get away with doing fuck all if he was feeling lazy. His mind drifted back to shower time that morning, when he'd cracked one off the wrist imagining how it would feel to have Leon squeezed in that tight little space behind him. Kisses planted on his neck, with just a hint of roughness from a day's growth. That fit, athletic, hairy body pressed tight up against his back. Leon was gently rocking his hips, driving his cock slowly and rhythmically back and forth inside Scott's body. Scott's hardon stood firm and throbbing as the hot water ran down its length - and then, Leon took it in his fist and began to pump, gently but firmly...

'Got to get a grip, Scott. And not on your cock.' It was only Tuesday morning. At this rate, even if his cock hadn't dropped off by Saturday his bollocks would certainly be totally spent. Even if they weren't literally shrivelled up, it would certainly feel like it. Not to mention the fact that it was not, of course, terribly easy to hide when he was excited.

And Scott was, indeed, excited right now. Very excited.

He got his phone out and fiddled with it. This wasn't the best idea right now, either. He and Leon had exchanged some very smutty messages that morning; the best that could be said of the situation is that phones were banned as a distraction to safe working practice in the lab where Leon worked, so he wouldn't be able to contact Scott during the day, except at lunchtime. What daydreaming about his morning wank had started, reading Leon articulate - at some length - his desire to pin Scott to the bed and pound him finished. Scott slouched a little in his office chair, so as the object now resembling an eleven inch length of thick steel pipe that formed an obscene bulge in the front of his clothing would be rather less obvious should anyone else go and pick now to come into the room.

Scott decided to be very diligent and start work on the accounts now. A passion-killer was clearly needed at this moment, and working on pages and pages of figures until his eyes went crossed ought hopefully to do the job. If he concentrated really hard, and tried not to think at all about what Leon did to his arse. Shit, how had this guy turned him into a bottom practically overnight? Had Leon stirred something within him that other mens' expectations of a well endowed lover had always helped to hide? Was he just a very good lover - who also just happened to be a top, and one who got pleasure from control?

Most likely it was a combination of both things; what Scott did know for certain is that his body was longing to thrill once again to the sensation of sex with Leon. There was an urgency verging on desperation to get Leon into his house, rip their clothes off, and fuck. He wasn't even sure that they'd make it upstairs to the bed. Scott imagined what it would be like to be slammed up again the wall in the hallway, have Leon yank his trousers and underwear down, and have his arse claimed right there...

This was not helping. Click on the spreadsheet. Start checking the figures. Sheet 1, column 2. Boring figures. Boring, boring figures. 'Work your magic, boring figures.'

Eventually, Scott managed to lose his libido amongst the swimming sea of numbers. He looked at the clock in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen - 09:32. Only seven hours and 58 minutes to go until he could at least get out of here and work out some of his pent up energy at the gym. And he tried really hard not to think about the phone call he had planned with Leon at one o'clock.