Friends and Lovers

Tom scoured the Natty index of authors and was delighted to find a number of stories written by this man. Each one was as good as the first, and he read them one after the other, becoming almost drunk on them.

Although Tom searched the Net, he was unable to learn anything more about the writer who wrote The Rain, the Park, and Random Blowjobs. And because Tom's curiosity had been so thoroughly aroused-along with other things- he determined to find out as much as he could.

Being a chemistry professor at Pulaski and Jasper University here in Savannah, Tom knew the value of feedback. He found Chase's contact information, pulled up a blank email, and wrote to him, praising his story and asking if he had anything else on the Net.

He was surprised when he got a reply not half an hour after he'd hit send. Chase thanked him for his kind words and sent him the link to his own website.

So Tom clicked on the link and found a variety of stories that were based on movies, TV shows, and even music. The stories had given Tom a hot, fascinating glimpse into how the bottom half lived, and he enjoyed them immensely, so much so Tom wrote back to Chase to let him know, and to ask if Tom might get a sneak preview of his latest stories.

****

Tom knew the archivist of Natty posted new stories on the weekend, but Chase had agreed to send Tom advanced copies. That Friday, Tom hurried his students from the chem lab, relieved he didn't have student hours that day, and rushed home.

He tossed his messenger bag onto the floor under the console table by his front door and sat down in front of his computer. He turned it on and logged into his email program.

Yes! There was an email from Chase, and it had an attachment. Tom felt his excitement rise as his mouth went dry and his cock grew hard-Chase's stories gave Tom many hours of solitary pleasure. Of course he didn't need the stories when he was in the company of very attractive twinks. Tom might have been short, but he was a leather daddy through and through, and those pretty little gay boys fluttered around him like moths to the proverbial flame.

This story-Let's Fly, about a top who viewed bottoms as a necessary means to his own pleasure, although he considered theirs immaterial, and learned the error of his belief when he came across a bottom who was tougher than he was-was no exception.

Tom printed out the story, took it to his bedroom, and removed his professor clothes-a suit and button-down shirt-and hung them up, then stripped down to his skin. He slicked up a dildo he'd bought shortly after he'd discovered Chase's stories and made himself comfortable on his bed. He lubed his ass, drew in a breath, and eased in the dildo. He left it there and began reading the story.

It wasn't long before the level of heat in Let's Fly had him letting the pages fall to the side. He withdrew the dildo, teased his rim, and slid it back in again.

Mmm. Having his prostate massaged-one of Chase's characters had said it was one of the things that made being a man such a happy thing. Tom had always thought it was having his dick massaged by a nice, tight ass, but now he understood what the character was talking about.

Tom raised his knees to his chest, teased his balls, then gripped his cock, all the while driving himself wild as he worked the dildo in and out of his ass.

"Yeah, fuck, yeah. Give it to me, baby," he muttered to an imaginary lover. It felt amazing. One last, hard brush against his prostate, and Tom shouted and shot his wad all over his chest.

It took a while before his breath came under control, but shock waves still shuddered through him. Holy God, that had been fantastic.

And if a hunk of rubber made him feel this good, what would it be like with an actual partner?

Tom removed the dildo and decided that, like Scarlett O'Hara, he'd think about that another day, but as much as he tried, the thought lingered.

He rolled off the bed, made his way into the bathroom, and began to give it serious thought as he showered. He'd head on over to the Always Reddy Pub. It had opened a few years before and was known as being gay-friendly. Well, its owner and his partner were gay, so that only made sense. During the week, it was a quiet place, but on the weekend, it exploded with music and dancing, and Tom had hooked up with a cutie whenever he went, because that was how he rolled.

****

Although Tom drove a Jeep to work during the week, he rode his Harley on the weekend, as long as the weather was good. Tonight, since it was a warm, balmy evening, that was the plan. He dressed in his leathers and wheeled his hog out of the garage at the rear of the property he'd bought with the money his grandpa had left him. He loved that motorcycle and believed in keeping it safe and dry, which was why he'd had the one-car garage enlarged to hold not only his Jeep but the Harley as well.

He rode to the Always Reddy Pub on Bull Street. The pub was a replica of a Revolutionary era tavern, down to the leaded windows and the sign that swung above the door. The building itself was white, with forest green shutters at every window.

Tom parked in the lot behind the building, then walked around to the front. Okay, buddy, it's show time. He rolled his shoulders and pushed open the door.

As soon as Tom swaggered into the pub, a wall of sound and scent struck him, the music almost deafening and the scent, a combination of musk, sweat, and cologne, enough to knock a man on his ass. He was tempted to turn around and walk out, but this was leather daddy night, and he was on a mission.

His friend Josh waved him over, and Tom went to join him. Tom had considered asking Josh if he would make love to him, but two things stopped him: even though Josh loved Tom and would have done anything for him, Josh was a dedicated bottom. What scared Tom, however, was the fact that request could ruin their friendship, and the act wasn't so important that he would risk losing Josh over it.

"See anyone who strikes your fancy?" he asked after hugging Josh and planting a kiss on Josh's cheek.

"As a matter of fact..." Josh grinned and nodded toward the man approaching them from the bar, holding a couple of glasses. His bearing screamed military, which made sense, since there were a couple of bases near Savannah. And even though Don't Ask, Don't Tell was the policy, it wasn't surprising to see soldiers here.

Tom frowned. "You're still dating Ken?"

"You know his name is Lucas."

"I know." The thing was, Lucas Robinson flat-out rubbed Tom the wrong way. The guy had perfect, pretty looks, just like a Ken doll, which was why Tom referred to him by that name. Lucas had sleek black hair and gray eyes and was four inches shorter than Josh, which made him about six foot two.

"He's a good man, Tommy."

"If you say so." Tom knew Josh was desperate to be loved, and though Tom loved him, it just wasn't in the way Josh needed. It had struck Tom that Ken-Lucas-liked having a boyfriend who was so tall just so he could demonstrate what a big man he was by being able to top someone Josh's size.

But Josh loved Lucas, and Tom was a big believer in leaving well enough alone. As long as Lucas treated Josh well...

Lucas arrived at the table. He must have spotted Tom earlier, because a frown darkened his pretty boy looks. He wiped it off immediately, but Tom had already seen it. "Weber."

"Robinson."

"Did Josh forget to tell me you were gonna be here?"

"No. This was a spur-of-the-moment visit."

Lucas handed Josh his drink. "Sorry, I didn't get a drink for you." He took a sip of his own.

"Not necessary, although I appreciate the thought." Not. "I'm a big enough boy to buy my own drinks."

"Big?" Lucas tried to cover his snicker with a cough. He stood about six inches taller than Tom, and he straightened to attention to demonstrate his superior height.

Tom just grinned. Lucas didn't know him at all well, or he'd have realized Tom's lack of height was deceiving. There had been a period of time when he and Josh had been out on the streets, and it had been Tom who'd kept them safe.

Josh bit his lip, looking concerned, and Tom didn't want to upset him. If he stayed much longer, he'd be tempted to knock Lucas down, so instead he patted Josh's arm. "I'm gonna get a drink and then see if I can find someone to take home with me, buddy. I'll talk to you." He kissed Josh's cheek again, gave Lucas a curt nod, and strolled to the bar.

The bartender, another tall blond, smiled at him. "Hi, Tom. Haven't seen you in a while."

"Hi, Cris. You know how it is when the semester is in full swing."

"Yeah, we get pretty busy here, too. Do you want your usual?"

"Sure." Tom preferred Coke when he was on the prowl. He'd learned early his judgement wasn't too keen if he'd had a few. Years ago he'd fucked a twink over a pool table as a result of too much alcohol and too little common sense, and he'd promised himself he'd never do that again. "Is Cliff here tonight?" he asked as he placed a couple of singles on the bar and accepted the glass of soda.

"I saw him in the back by the pool tables. Roger's with him."

"Thanks." Tom raised his glass in a toast, took a sip, and made his way to the back of the pub, ignoring the hopeful looks cast his way.

A brunet of average height looked up from where he'd just made his shot and grinned. "Tom."

"Hey, Cliff, Rog."

"See anything you like?" Cliff's grin broadened, and he set aside his pool cue to offer a hand.

"Actually..." Tom shook Cliff's hand and gave Roger a nod, which he returned curtly-the pain in the ass. Tom had known the two leather daddies since he'd returned to Savannah some years before. They weren't precisely friends, more like good acquaintances, but Tom had hopes Cliff would be willing to help out a fellow leather daddy. As for Roger, Tom wouldn't trust him any farther than he could throw him.

"I've got my eye on that cute little redhead over there, so hands off."

"No problem. Have you got a minute?"

"For you, buddy? Any time." Well, that sounded promising. "What can I do you for?"

Tom drew in a breath. Okay, here went nothing. "Have you ever thought about... uh... bottoming?"

"No."

"Never?"

"I'd never trust anyone enough. Why?" He gave Tom a suspicious look. "Have you?"

"I just thought it might be interesting to give the experience a try."

"Yeah? Who do you expect to top you? Not one of us, I hope." He exchanged glances with Roger.

"Why not?"

"Are you kidding? You're the toppiest top we know. You'd never let anyone top you, not even from the bottom. Wait, you're kidding, right?" Cliff laughed and slapped him on the back. "Good one, dude."

"Yeah, just kidding." Tom gave him a cool grin and raised his glass to conceal his disappointment. "You feeling up to a game of pool?"

"Thanks, but I think I'm gonna make my move." Cliff handed Tom the pool cue he'd propped against the table, adjusted his package, and crossed to the other side of the dance floor, where the twink he'd had his eye on straightened and looked hopeful.

"Hey, Tom, you gonna play?" Roger looked like a hungry wolf eager for dinner. Did he honestly think Tom would let him anywhere near his ass?

"Sure." It didn't look like he was going to do anything else tonight, and it would give him some pleasure to beat this particular leather daddy.