"Lover Always"

Title: Lover, Always (Lover Series, Part 5)

Pairing: Stuart/Vince

Rating: NC-17

Genre: Drama

Summary: The secret is out, and a choice is made known.

Series: Part Five of the "Lover" series.

Notes: Over two months, and here I am again. My breaks don't last long it seems. Thanks to Alexis for the beta. Believe me, she's just happy to see me string more than two words together as long as it has Stuart and Vince involved. Huggles, darlin. For newbies to this series, I strongly encourage you to read “Lover, Mine” - “Lover, Yours” - “Lover, More” and "Lover, Now" first.

Warning: This story contains what some would consider a minor kink mixed in with the barest elements of D/s play. No worries, luvs.

Lover, Always (Lover Series, Part 5)

by xof

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"Lover, Always…."

by

Xof

(December 22, 2002)

Two voices, familiar and close. A conversation on the second floor landing that could be heard at the bottom of the stairs. Like stereo ease-dropping, without any effort. Accompanied by the thoughts of the listener, ‘Oh let’s have a listen. Should be good.’

“I’ve been thinking about this all day.” Words growled with a thickened accent. “Had a wank just imagining how you’d feel with me inside.”

Keys dropped to the floor, sounding out in a loud crash from above. The noise broke the listener’s focus on the words being said – harkening the realization of what the words meant. Could what he was hearing be what he was hearing? And from HIM? Here?

Funny, since he’d been sure Hell-chester hadn’t frozen over. There’d been no signs of the apocalypse – that is until the other half of the conversation gasped out, "Oh my God. Stuart, wait till we’re inside.”

Bloody hell, it was them. Both of them. But, but…. That would mean. ‘No way. No fucking way. Somebody forgot to invite this girl to the party. All dolled up and not in the know.’

And again from above, “I’m not in for waiting, Vince.” The teasing evident by the snicker that followed, “Ever been shagged in a hallway?”

Laughter traced the put-upon toned reply, “Would you, hell. Stuart, stop.” More laughter followed. “I know you, Jones. No molesting me when I bend over to pick up the keys.”

“I always like a lad with ideas.”

Scuffling noises as if the two were wrestling about met the listener’s ears, chorused by a loud moan. He shook his head, thinking either he’d gone daft – one two many times jumping up and down to make his ears pop while in the plane loo on the flight in tonight (odd the looks he’s gotten once he’d left to return to his seat afterwards) - or he’d missed something BIG in the world of Tyler and Jones. Creeping up squeaking stairs like a mystery detective on the case, the listener stuck his head up to see round the corner and froze at what he saw.

Stuart and Vince wrapped together in a kiss. Not just any kiss. One meant to melt the mind. Stuart had Vince pressed back against the wall, trapped as they devoured – the hunger shining over their heated faces, and wet mouths. Vince was lost in the fire, moaning as Stuart pulled his shirt open . . . unmindful of the popping buttons. His eyes were closed as he arched into the circled drive of Stuart’s hips. With a loud gasp, Vince shuddered as Stuart’s palm molded the hard-on through his pants.

Laughing, Stuart drew back from the kiss. He placed a bite over Vince’s nipple, nuzzling his head . . . no, his hair against Vince’s skin. Lifting up, Stuart looked at Vince – his mouth openly wanting, his eyes closed tight against the brightness of the hall light and with his own need. Stuart hugged him close and whispered something in Vince’s ear. The words unheard by their voyeur, caused Vince to open his eyes and give over the regained keys to Stuart.

A moment more as the lock was undone, and they both were inside. The hall lay bare. And the only noise to be heard was the shocked sound as their peep sat stunned on the steps. “Blimey, when did we all enter OZ.”

* * * * * * *

“He wasn’t. Stuart, tell me he wasn’t.” Vince sat heavily on the sofa, shaking his head even as he pulled down on the rough material of his trousers – trying to ease the ache of his groin.

Stuart leaned against the closed front door, watching Vince as he affirmed, “It was Alexander. I saw him out the corner of my eye.” For added effect he mentioned, “Just about the time I was licking you.”

“Oh my god. I . . . I don’t.” Vince bent over, his hands worrying their way through his spiked hair. He was consumed with worry. Embarrassment too. But ruling over both, was a fear that now it would all be ruined. Vince had dropped from passion’s high to anxiety’s low with speed enough to leave him breathless. He whispered, “They’ll all know now.”

Stuart bit the inside of his lip, playing witness to Vince’s dread. But he wasn’t fool enough to misread the signs. He knew Vince had wanted others to know, but that he’d wanted Stuart to make the choice. Because by making it, Stuart would be showing that Vince was important. Stuart wasn’t lost on the irony that the only way for the man to see his own self-worth was through the eyes and admission of another. The twat….

“About bloody time someone did then.”

Vince sunk back against the sofa, sitting in a sprawl with his chin down and his shirt hanging open. Dazed, he didn’t respond to Stuart’s words.

Stuart walked over to the sofa and stood directly in front of Vince, between his open legs. Still Vince refused to look up. With a sigh, Stuart straddled his lap and took Vince’s face between his hands. They looked at each other for the longest – Stuart’s eyes assessing, Vince’s full of doubt. Stuart leaned in and took Vince’s lips in a kiss, sweet and whispering the touch until Vince opened in kind. Being with Vince had taught Stuart that even the barest of touches could mean more than the fiercest fuck. He wanted to convey that to the man below him as they continued to kiss. Easy, accepting, confident.

Chosen.

Stuart murmured against his lover’s lips, “Can you imagine Hazel’s face?” And laughed as Vince sputtered back to escape with a look of horror and a blush that turned his ears red. He was still laughing with Vince twisted them round and trapped Stuart beneath him on the sofa.

“Stuart! She’ll kill us.” Vince caught Stuart’s wandering hands, trying to be serious but losing his focus as Stuart arched against him and played at struggling free of Vince’s grip.

Snickering, Stuart answered. “No, she’ll just go for my balls.” He was grinning as he wound both legs around Vince’s hips and circled his hard-on into Vince’s groin. With a whispered hiss, “Come and save me, Vince,” Stuart groaned as Vince kissed him hard. Feeling Vince loosen his hold, Stuart rolled them with a lunge that brought them both down onto the floor – Stuart over Vince. He growled in Vince’s ear, “Gonna protect me. Keep me in tact so I’m still about to make you….” He proceeded to lick a trail down Vince’s neck, over his collarbone and then took his hardened nipple inside – sucking until Vince cried out.

Humming, Stuart pulled back and smiled. “There’s that sound you make.” When Vince tried to turn his flushed face away, Stuart kissed him. “It’s fantastic.”

Vince’s mouth quirked up at the corner, “And so am I?”

Stuart’s eyes shown with a devilish glint as he answered, “And so am I….” To which Vince snorted, trying to throw the man off himself. The struggle turned into a tickle match that left them both gasping and silly. It also left Vince’s shirt hanging off his elbows, trapping his arms and leaving his chest bare. Stuart was just about to take advantage when the loud ringing of Vince’s phone sounded.

Vince tried to grab after Stuart to stop him from answering, “Please don’t answer, please.”

Having reached the phone first, Stuart just quirked an eyebrow as he did anyway. Vince watched as Stuart grinned into the receiver – having never been given the chance to speak before the caller started in on a loud rant. Finally during a break for fresh air, Stuart answered back. “I’m sorry, Hazel. Vince can’t come to the phone right now. He’s indecently indisposed.”

Stuart almost cracked in his sarcastic disposition as he watched Vince rolling back and forth on the floor with his hands covering his face. Little “no” sounds echoed from between his fingers. The sight mixed with the constant thundering prattle on the line only served to motivate Stuart’s chosen course. “Hazel.” He repeated her name twice before yelling, “Hazel.” A second later, “No, I’m afraid there will be no wearing of bullocks for earrings this season. Besides, Vince isn’t finished playing with mine yet.”

Desperate now, Vince pushed up off the floor, frantically freeing his arms from his shirt sleeves, and grabbed the phone from Stuart. “Mum, uhm. Yeah, ahh. Okay. I didn’t…but. Uhhh. I’ll be. We’ll be, uhm… Mum?” Vince pulled the receiver away from his ear, staring at Stuart. “She hung up.”

Stuart dropped down and lay on the floor, his stomach rumbling with his laughter. He couldn’t even stop when Vince snapped, “Oh that’s right. Laugh it up.”

Cursing, Vince tried to walk passed Stuart but was pulled down again. He ended up laid out with Stuart’s wiry body covering his own.

Stuart brushed Vince’s hair back, and held his face. He met Vince’s eyes with renewed seriousness. “I’ve said it, Vince. Did you hear?” At Vince’s questioning look, Stuart repeated the words. “It’s about bloody time someone knew.” He kissed Vince softly, briefly as he added. “I’m glad.” Holding the china blue gaze of Vince’s eyes, Stuart leaned in again and slowly nuzzled his neck . . . running his hair across Vince’s skin, over his cheek until their mouths met once more.

Vince moaned as their lips parted, having to pull back to say, “We’re supposed to go to Mum’s, like this instant."

Stuart snorted ungracefully and pulled Vince's head back with a hand in his hair. "You know what they say about time, Vince. It's all relative." At Vince's groan, Stuart smirked and refused to loosen his hold on the man's hair when Vince tried to shake his hand off. Sensing that Vince was about to try and throw him, Stuart hooked his feet under Vince's legs and moved his free hand down to palm Vince's hard-on.

Vince gasped and jerked as his body overrode his mind's desire for freedom. "Dirty fighter." His tone didn't sound as plaintive as he'd intended; more ruefully appreciative than plaintive really. But he made a show of resistance, bucking unsuccessfully against his Irishman's body weight . . . only to give in when Stuart massaged the heel of his hand into Vince's balls.

The pressure and the sound. The sound of Stuart Alan Jones growling in his ear, "Dirty is as dirty does. Is there any other way to play, boy?" The last word low, his 'Sir's' call.

Vince moaned as his body melted into stillness. "No, sir."

Keeping his fingers webbed through the soft spikes of Vince’s hair, Stuart shifted his weight onto his knees and straddled the man below. “Hands flat on the floor. No reaching out.” Stuart gave Vince’s belt a jerk with his other hand, watching as Vince’s eyes opened wide in conjunction with the downward pull of the zipper. “Yeah, keep watching. I want to see you catch fire under me.”

Vince swallowed, trying to force back the need to speak. The need not to plead for more. No need to talk, really. When his eyes spoke to the hunger of the man.

Stuart grinned at his lover’s submission, wanting to unwrap him until Vince’s body lay as naked with need as his eyes. He made quick work of Vince’s clothes, shifting back into place after he’d removed his own. Holding Vince’s gaze, feeling the brush of it as it followed his every move, Stuart played teasing touches over his own nipples – pressing the touch down his stomach, through his dark curls and along his cock.

Vince’s face, Stuart couldn’t look away from the man’s expression. Couldn’t help but lick his lips, echoing Vince’s subconscious response to Stuart’s show. Eyes locked, focused on Stuart’s stroking hand and the aching shaft in its grasp. Vince lost in the zone.

Varying the rhythm of his hand from slow and easy to quick and panting; Stuart continued to tease them both. He circled his hips, driving his balls back and forth over Vince’s hard-on . . . hissing as the hair tickled his sensitive skin.

When Vince’s hand broke position and clutched at Stuart’s thighs, Stuart tisked. “Bad boy, Vince. Cross your wrists and rest your hands over your head.”

Shutting his eyes at the thought of how he must look, Vince did as he was told. He was quick to open them again when Stuart stopped moving.

Stuart ran his pre-come slicked hand up the center of Vince’s torso, leaning down to bite quick and hard at the center of Vince’s collarbone. He sucked and sucked, until Vince cried out from being marked. Licking gently over the bruise, Stuart said. “Eyes open, Vince. You need my permission to keep them closed.”

The firm tone of Stuart’s voice, the way his accent thickened, sent a shiver up Vince’s spine. One of sharp warmth and desire that caused him to shudder out a moan, “Yes, sir.”

Stuart hummed in approval, placing small licks up Vince’s throat until he took a kiss that left them more breathless than before. Raising up, Stuart grabbed for his pants. He threw them aside and slowly placed his prize on Vince’s stomach; the condom wrapper cold against the slightly rounded curve on which it lay. Seeing Vince’s smile, Stuart grinned. “Not yet There’s so much more to do.” Whispering low, “Choices, choices.” He deliberately scanned the length of his lover’s body, stopping at the sharp curve of the blood-darkened cock. “I could touch you, there.”

Meeting Vince’s eyes he asked, “Would you like that?”

Vince scrunched his forehead, taking a second to speak rather than to beg. “Yes, sir. Please.” He was dying for it.

“Taste you, too?” Stuart murmured, enjoying the husky slow breath that sounded in Vince’s reply.

“Yes, sir.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Please…”

Stuart moved in to speak against Vince’s ear, his breath gushing hotly over the inner curves as he admonished his boy. “You forget. This isn’t about what you want. It’s about what I want. About what I’m willing to give.” He could feel Vince’s body shaking, feel the struggle of the man as he fought to stay obedient despite his screaming need to ‘do’ and ‘take’ regardless of the command in Stuart’s words.

Crawling forward on hands and knees, Stuart moved up and over Vince. His body glided through the motion like a tom cat on the prowl until he stopped and rose up on his knees, his body over Vince’s face. Stuart closed his eyes and said, “Do it.” No sooner had he spoken the words, and Stuart sighed out a, “Yessss,” as Vince licked his balls.

Intent upon giving back a little of his own, Vince took his time. He inhaled Stuart’s scent, rubbing his chin against the ball sac before opening his mouth and tonguing the warm flesh. Rolling the balls until Stuart groaned, Vince took them each into his mouth and sucked until Stuart bowed down and placed his hands on the floor above Vince’s head.

Once he was balanced, Stuart reached down and brought his cock to Vince’s mouth. Watching again as Vince eagerly opened and took the shaft inside. Stuart growled, “Still. Be still and take it.” He put both his hands back on the floor and began making shallow thrusts with his hips, rolling them slowly but still driving in and over Vince’s tongue with relentless determination. With a control that had Vince moaning as he was face fucked by the man of his dreams.

Too much. Minutes passing like seconds, liquid fire and soft friction, suction building and every time going deeper in. Stuart sucked in a breath, and forced himself to pull free from the haven of Vince’s mouth. He moved to lay on top of Vince, riding the wave of his lover’s panting breaths and watching the look of dazed craving on Vince’s face.

Lips swollen, mouth open and eyes blinking wet as he adjusted to the loss of Stuart’s flesh - Vince was beautiful.

Stuart pressed his head into Vince’s neck, sliding his body against the man below. He relished the feeling of their damp skin, limbs entwined as their cocks pushed against each other with every move of their hips. Rocking into the open cradle of Vince’s groin, Stuart grabbed the condom from where it had slid to the floor. He kissed Vince, tasting himself there. "Uhmm," Stuart ended the kiss and tore open the wrapper, "You want?" He waited for Vince to answer, testing the 'how' of the man's answer, since they both knew it was a yes.

Vince rolled his hands into fists, still fighting not to move them - not to take hold. A deep breath, "What you want, sir. I want what you want."

Thinking 'perfect' - hearing it reverberating through his mind, Stuart held Vince's eyes as he pushed back and stroked the latex on. Reaching down, tapping his fingertips over the crease of Vince's arse - Stuart demanded quietly, "Did you do it? Where you a good boy for me, Vince?" He didn't wait for Vince to speak, but instead slid two fingers home. Passage slick, primed and ready for his cock. Just like he'd told Vince to be when they'd made plans for the night.

Vince gasped and bit his lip, blinking as he rode the sensation of being filled - feeling the twist of Stuart's fingers as his Sir trust inside. "Yea, uhmmmm. Sir."

Stuart pulled Vince forward by the hips, lifting up his legs and pressing in without another word. He grit his teeth against the constriction, loving it to the point of near pleasure pain. He gasped as Vince squeezed him from within, insistent on getting more. Stuart leaned over Vince, hands at his shoulders and braced on the floor as he thrust back, and forth. His rhythm was near frantic, unsteady and at times jerking forward - so desperate to feel the hot body squeezing him as they fucked. And his eyes, so blue. Incredible as they darkened and as Vince cried out and grunted, calling out for Stuart to give him more - to fuck him harder.

Eyes striking out over Vince's body, Stuart checked in a second the flushed wet skin - the tense clutch of fisted hands, the leaking cock, panting mouth. So wanton, so needing to be touched. And as his own body screamed out in pulsing blood and pounding heart that the end was almost now, Stuart jerked Vince's own hand down to his cock. "I want to see you, to feel you covering us with it as you come."

Vince was passed coherency, his only thank you a continued chorus of gasps and moans as his fist worked over the column of his own flesh. He was stroking frantically, keeping pace with the unforgiving pounding of Stuart's cock. Then with a cry, his body seized up and he was shooting. Spunk beading and spreading over his chest and Stuart's flexing stomach.

The first touch, the feeling of it hitting his skin - hot and wet - and Stuart lost the fight by winning. He dropped his head, burying it under Vince's chin as his body jerked and spasmed. And again his mouth found that spot, his mark and bit into Vince's flesh. A moment locked with them together and then they collapsed, Stuart over Vince. Bodies sprawled and cooling as they did nothing but assimilate the awe of how it had felt and still did feel.

* * * * * * *

Pounding, fist against the door. Incessant knocks and a demanding, “STUART ALAN JONES! I know you’re in there; the jeeps still out front.”

This was the wake-up call that harkened both Vince and Stuart back from sexual oblivion. They awoke on the floor, curled into each other but no longer joined. Both looking a complete mess. And with wakefulness came the realization of their pending doom as they both jerked up as the door was unlocked and the glory of Hazel in full tilt could be heard cursing as the door stuck. One good shove and she’d be in.

Stuart winced as his leg came into contact with the discarded condom on the floor under him and all he had time to think was, ‘must have fell off while we slept.’ In the instant that thought was done, he began to focus on Vince’s frantic “Oh my God” chorus – turning his head to see the man scrambling for the old quilted throw he kept on the sofa. Worn and soft from multiple washings, it was usually a nice addition to a good Sci-fi marathon on cold nights. Course now it was serving as the only barrier between two naked men and the woman flying through the doorway with a determined shove.

And there she stood, a winded Hazel with fire in her eyes. Hands on her hips as she took in the show.

Never one to shy from exposure, Stuart wasn’t concerned about being covered – hell, she’d seen it before anyway - but that didn’t stop Vince from shielding him from throat to ankle - even as he himself seemed to duck behind Stuart’s body so that both the man and the cloth were between Hazel and himself. Stuart snickered at the look on Vince’s face, pure red on white. He was petrified, panicked and looked ready to die on the spot. In a word, it was all too familiar in Stuart's memory of a teenaged Vince caught with his trousers down.

Which meant Stuart couldn’t resist, “Fancy a look at Barry Sheene?”

The slap up-side his tangled-haired head served as answer. From Hazel.

“Fuck, woman. Hands off. I’m not into dominant dames.”

His words caused Vince to give a short laugh, nervous and breathy, but a laugh despite himself. “Stuart, just shut your face.” He couldn’t look at his mum. She was being too quiet and standing there waiting. The weight of it made him fidget more with their cover even as Stuart fought his every move to bury them within it. The two were tug-a-warring the throw until Stuart yanked it down, compromising as he settled the struggle by lying spread out back against Vince’s chest with the fabric pooled around their hips.

Running a hand through her hair, still Hazel just looked at them. Her thoughts a mystery.

Stuart stared back, knowing she’d say her peace. What surprised him was the sense of calm the confrontation had given him. He was ready for barbs, tears, yelling – the works. And he felt the patience to wait.

Course Hazel, the non-typical soul that she was, took another tact all around. She looked him in the eye, letting Vince bare witness, and spoke her questions with economy. “How long?”

Stuart thankfully answered the obvious question and let the sexual connotation tickling at the back of his mind drop. “Weeks now.”

“Shagging?”

Stuart could tell she meant anyone else. “No.”

Cocking her head, she entered darker ground. “And when you do?”

Stuart opened his mouth to answer; not even knowing what he intended to say but was interrupted by Vince.

Vince, who’d found a voice to speak his mind. “He’ll still be mine.” The possession of his tone, the determination to keep the man he loved, rang fiercely through those words.

Stuart turned and looked at Vince. He couldn’t voice his thoughts, the shades of gray that made him the man he was, but he knew what he wanted – and with whom he wanted it to continue, despite his nature and the demons inside. Kissing Vince, he whispered his promise. “Lover, yours.” Opening his eyes to see the shining answer in Vince’s own that love was not blind but was all encompassing, he added. “Always.”

Vince held him close and kissed him, then turned to see Hazel walking towards the door. “Mum?”

She turned, and they both saw the small smile on her face. Her two boys, all grown up. Looking at her son, she said, “You’re bringing this one to tea. Sunday.” Turning to Stuart, “And don’t forget the booze, good stuff.” With a blown kiss and the turning of the knob, she was gone.

A beat of silence, not a move from either of them and then Stuart's voice broke the quiet. "Finds out I've been molesting her son for weeks and invites me to tea?" He turned his head to see Vince shaking his head.

"It's mad. She'd completely mad."

Stuart laughed at Vince's amazement. Over 30 years in the company of Hazel Tyler as your mum, and still Vince could be left gob smacked. Arching an eyebrow, Stuart asked in faux seriousness, "Think it was something I said, or the sight of your dried come on my skin?"

Eyes dropping to take in the blotches that did indeed show in obvious contrast to Stuart's tan skin, and Vince dropped his head back and groaned out an, "Oh my, God," that left Stuart fighting a fit of giggles. The sound bursting forth, loud and abrupt - made even louder as Vince's incredulous "Oh, Ha-bloody-ha's," joined in the mix.

Stuart was still laughing when Vince gave him a push off his lap, leaving Stuart spread out on the floor . . . naked and grinning naughtily. A flustered Vince was one of Stuart's favorite things. Add in sexual tension, blinding arousal and wham - there wasn't anything Stuart wouldn't say or do to draw him closer. He raised his arms above his head, and just as Vince was about to stand up . . . Stuart stopped him. Stopped him by brazenly opening his legs, spreading them out with bent knees and feet flat on the floor - his cock rising as he watched Vince freeze. In a pouting breathy tone, "I'm all dirty, Vince."

Mouth open and eyes flashing, Vince swallowed but could not find the words to speak. He took a breath, and then reach out to touch Stuart's leg . . . sliding his palm down the inner thigh. The motion ended when Stuart pushed himself up, leaning back on his hands. "Bath?" A quick kiss, a glide of his tongue over Vince's bottom lip and Stuart stood up. Without a backwards glance, he walked to the bathroom.

* * * * * * *

Warm water gushing in against the porcelain as bubbles started to fill the tub. And Stuart, standing at the end. He was bent over the rim, stirring the water with his fingers when Vince entered the room. And the sight that greeted him was Stuart's gorgeous arse raised high. Perfect curves, small and tight.

A smile crossed Vince's face, his own bit of devilment taking hold. After all, it was a lovely display. One his body truly appreciated. He stopped just behind Stuart, pressing his body against him as he put an arm around Stuart's waist to steady them. His cock nestled against the crease, sliding up and down between the cheeks.

Stuart groaned and stood up, leaning back against Vince's body. He pressed back as Vince held him, rubbing his arse against the hard flesh. Their bodies shone with the steam that rose from the tub, heightened by the hot contact of skin to skin.

"Get in, I'll wash you."

Vince's low voice sounded against Stuart's ear, and he felt his nipples harden at the words. He murmured, "Both go, both go in."

Kissing his lover's neck, lips sliding slowly as Vince spoke . . . "Tight fit."

Stuart chuckled, "I bloody well hope so." He turned and kissed Vince, then stepped into the water. Holding out a hand, he guided Vince to him in the tub. Clasping both hands in his, Stuart knelt in the water before Vince. "Stay still," he said as Vince started to join him.

"Thought I was to bathe you," came the husky reply.

Stuart pulled Vince's hands to his head, sighing as the fingers threaded through his wild dark curls. A small smile, "After."

Siding his own hands up the back of Vince's thighs, Stuart bent to taste the harden flesh he craved. As always, it was a moment that made his gut clench and his heart pound. The feeling of Vince's hands gripping him by the hair, not enough to hurt . . . just enough to ground himself to the sensation overload. Funny how it seemed to do the same for Stuart. The taste, the way the flesh invaded his palette as he pulled it further into himself. And the sounds - of Vince's moans and the wet sucking of Stuart's mouth working them both in a give and take.

Playfully drawing it out, Stuart pulled back . . . licking the tip, sucking at the head until Vince cried out. One of the things Stuart had loved discovering about Vince, the man could not keep quiet when he was having sex. When someone was sucking him. Unlike some blokes who stayed stoic and mute as if you weren't licking their balls with the talent of long experience, Vince.... His Vince, was a moaner. Fantastic. Like now as he teased licks along the shaft, as he flicked his tongue at the crown and dipped into the slit before drawing the length back inside with one longggggg sucking pull. Gasping moans and Stuart's name echoed off the tiled walls.

"Stu . . . ahhh. Stuart, I'm .... I can't." Vince panted, trying to warn.

Not letting Vince pull back, holding him steady as the man shook . . . Stuart increased the suction and closed his eyes with the rush of power he felt when Vince burst over his tongue. Hot spurts coating his mouth and Stuart groaned in appreciation as he swallowed the taste down. Completely addictive.

He drew back, licking Vince clean before easing the man down into the tub. Stuart smiled, looking at Vince lying against the tub's end with his head back. Breathing hard as he shook his head to clear his scattered mind, Vince was a sight. One that hit Stuart as hard as sucking the man's cock had before. He knelt over Vince's out-stretched legs, leaning into the man until they were pressed close. Before Vince could say anything, Stuart caught his mouth in a kiss. Letting him taste as they'd done before.

Raising up, Stuart thrust his cock against Vince's stomach . . . circling into the friction as he purred against Vince's lips. When Vince tried to reach between them, Stuart spoke without breaking contact fully with Vince's mouth. "No, just let me." He continued to move against, to rub himself over Vince's body . . . knowing he wasn't long in coming. Biting at Vince's lip, panting into their kisses - his breath caught and he dropped down on the man beneath him. Sharp and frantic jerking as he clung to Vince, Stuart lost his reality to the whirlwind of giving over.

Opening his eyes a bit later, Stuart found himself held to Vince in the warm water. He didn't know when Vince had turned off the faucet. He didn't know how long he'd drifted, but he did know that moving from their position - from the sensation of their touch, wasn't an option to consider for a long while. So he remained, head on Vince's shoulder and arms around his waist. Hands lightly stroked over his skin; the sound of water gently splashing mingled with the beating of two hearts.

A chosen always held sure and true.

Finis