DISCLAIMER
==========
This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights (copyright (c) 2002 -- psun@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between males:
- if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.
And any comments -- brickbats or bouquets, send them over to
psun@hotmail.com And if you find that you like what you're reading, visit
my page at http://www.geocities.com/savante_2002
Humiliating. That was what it was. To be laughed at by the man of your dreams -- especially after presenting him with your proposition. As usual, I should have known better than to have trusted Francis Joseph Ricci with this.
"I just love this! Wait a minute, let me get this right." Casually folding his beefy arms across the expanse of his broad chest, Frank stood still for a moment and flashed a singularly sinister grin at me. As if trying to understand what I had said, he slowly gestured to himself and then to me. "You need me. You, Michael Wu, you need me."
"Shut up!"
So it was one of the most bubbleheaded plans that I had ever come up with. Give me a break. It was not my best plan as yet but it was the best that I could come up within the space of six hours. Which was roughly about the time I had taken yelling, panicking and generally freaking out after I received the fateful message from my parents telling me about their imminent arrival. As usual my spontaneous parents -- who had obviously never heard of an invention called a telephone -- didn't bother in the least to give me a week's preparation in advance but had sent an sms just before boarding their flight at the airport. Had it ever occurred to them that I could have had other plans?
I doubted it. It certainly never occurred to them that their son, the dutiful Michael Wu, could have any other priorities in life apart from his work. Sure, they knew that their younger son was a scandalous homosexual who practised deviant, unspeakable acts -- though I certainly hadn't been doing any of those for an unspecified amount of time -- but that certainly didn't mean that I couldn't provide them with a grandson to please the ancestors. For some odd reason, my parents simply couldn't fathom the revolutionary idea that being openly gay and getting married to a woman didn't exactly mesh well. The fact that my elder brother had already done his duty by providing a son -- therefore relieving me of that particular role -- was also lost to them. Ever since their retirement, it seemed as if the two insane workaholics had pooled their relentless ambition into a single goal -- trying to get me settled down -- with or without my consent.
Despite my protests and fervent reminders that I was gay, they persisted in inviting this and that lovely girl into my life. Somehow Mrs X's daughter would be travelling by and stopping over in town, desperately in need of some obscure Chinese delicacy that only I could find. Could I possibly...? Before they could wave their list of single available Chinese women in my face again, I blurted out the closest excuse I could find. Asking Frank to be my pretend boyfriend was not my primary intention. The intention was just to get them off my back -- and let me get back to my own life. At that moment, it certainly had never occurred to me that my parents would want to come over to inspect their prospective son-in-law.
"Don't make it more than it is." The man hadn't stopped smirking and I glared at him. "It is just for a day. At the most for three days."
"This certainly messes up your plans, doesn't it?" he grinned evilly. "Sweetheart. Baby. Hot stud."
"Fuck you."
"From what I've heard, we've done that before."
God, Frank Ricci as a boyfriend. Not that any red blooded gay male -- or het female for that matter -- wouldn't have hot fantasies of having Frank Ricci for a partner. A lover. A very hot one-night-stand. A quick, hasty ten-minute fuck in a stalled elevator. One look at the man was evidence that God might possibly lean our deviant way.
How else did a man look so sinfully good? Shoulder-length jet black hair framed a face that would drive a sculptor scrambling for his tools. High cheekbones, thickly lashed eyes the colour of a clear blue sky, a finely carved nose, thick, sensual lips that were now curved in a teasing half-smile as he looked at me. Add that to the incredible hard muscled, zero-fat body that had graced the covers of International Male not too long ago and you had quite a package. Six feet and more of unadulterated testosterone-splashed male. Hard torso. Heaving pecs. Tight abs. Bubble-butt. Big dick. The works. Yeah, the man was a definite winner in the gene pool stakes.
Even right now with that smug smile on his face -- that I was frankly more than tempted to plant my fist in, I still felt the irresistible urge to throw him down on the nearest flat surface and have my way with that hard, tight body. Life certainly was unfair at times. Why did he have to be that beautiful? Though beautiful wasn't the word for him. It smacked of feminity and that was one thing Frank wasn't. He was all Man with a capital M. Ever since the first time we met, I'd been battling the insane need to drag him into a dark corner and find out if the rumours about his... burgeoning assets were true.
After all, what did I possibly have in common with the reputed richest, most sought-after gay bachelor in New York? He certainly wouldn't have had anything to do with a struggling lawyer just starting out his own two-bit firm -- like me. My whole life was carefully, meticulously planned - with the firm ruthlessness of a lil general, my friend Amy once said - and I liked it that way. For me, planning was key and I hated surprises.
But nothing could have prepared me for the man that fate dropped in my lap. Our paths wouldn't even have crossed if it hadn't been for that faulty elevator in my office building that fateful evening almost six months ago. From the moment he first offered me a lewd proposition in that elevator, we had clicked. Funny how that happens, the moment when you knew that someone was a kindred spirit. In that short time, he'd grown to become one of my best friends, if not the closest. Plainly platonic due to my insistence.
Of course that certainly didn't stop Mr Ricci from throwing out his tempting lures. From the moment we met, he had poured on his considerable charm trying to get me in the sack and I continued refusing him. It had become almost a game with us and my stubborn refusal had become almost a instinctive, knee-jerk reaction. Though God only knows, I had to bite my tongue from moaning out a surrender each time. All my friends wondered at my turning him down since it seemed as if half of New York was lining up at his door waiting. Even saintly Amy had admitted a need to fuck him just to get over the need -- who cares if he was gay?
How could I possibly explain? It definitely wasn't from any lack of feeling. If anything, it was from way too much feeling. God knows the man was wonderful and it would be damned easy to fall for him -- a disastrous sin that I feared that I already had committed. After all it wasn't only his looks, his smile, his shiny, rippling muscles that drew me. In time, I grew to realize that there was much more to that shiny facade that Frank showed to the world. The world saw a sexy, charming playboy, a ne'er-do-well who jaunted from one high society party to another, carelessly spending his inheritance. But I realized that his image only hid the brilliant mind and the hard-working ethic behind the flashy smiles, that savvy business acumen that had managed to increase the personal wealth he had inherited more than three-fold at last count. No one saw the sweet man who volunteered at the orphanage each week, who played hide-and-seek with the children. Nobody knew of the immense amount of money that he gave away to charity. No one saw the man who visited a crochety aunt in Central Park West each week with a basket of Godivas and torrid bodicerippers. All they saw was a fucking sex machine with lots of dole to throw around which was a pity since underneath it all, he was something wonderful.
And that terrified me even more. Without a doubt, I knew that if I started on that first step towards a relationship with him, I'd end up with a broken heart. The man was a heartbreaker and even before I'd met him, I'd heard of his reputation. Who hadn't? Everyone in the building, heck, half of Manhattan had heard of the charming, sexy owner's reputation. Love 'em and leave 'em. Although I'd never really spoken to any of his ex-lovers since they were notoriously tight-lipped about Frank, everyone I knew knew someone who knew someone who knew one of his ex-lovers. And from all the rumours, it seemed that the streets of New York were literally strewn with the wrecks of his former lovers. I had no intention of becoming another notch on his extremely battered bedpost.
My curious gaze crept up to his rooms upstairs as I wondered about the state of his boudoir. It wouldn't have surprised me at all if the man had to add another bedpost just to accomodate newcomers. For convenience, his bedroom probably had a revolving door.
After the space of five minutes, the man still hadn't stopped laughing and it started to get annoying. Giving him a quelling frown, I pointed out, "Well, since you find it so damned funny, I'll ask Dec then."
"What?" His laughter came to an abrupt stop and for a moment the man looked almost insulted, his blue eyes flashing. "Ask Dec the weenie to play me?"
Knowing that a blow to his ego was something that he couldn't withstand, I shrugged. "Since you don't want it, I don't have much of a choice."
"I never said I wouldn't do it," he hedged.
"So you will do it?" I asked.
"I never said that either," he answered non-committally.
Turning his back on me, he walked by the floor-length windows and looked out in contemplation. It afforded me a spectacular view of New York -- and his aforementioned bubble-butt encased in tight jeans and the fact that I was more interested in the curves of his ass than the gleaming spires of New York irritated me. "Tell me quick, Frank. I don't have all day to play around with this. I've got to get a pretend boyfriend fast. ASAP. My parents are dropping by tonight!"
Rocking back on his heels, he looked across his shoulder and frowned. "Tell me again why you're doing this."
Leaving the drink he'd shoved at me earlier on the kitchen counter, I stalked over to where he was standing. The scent of his cologne wafted to me and I was immediately intrigued. Spice. Heat. Male. What was it with this man? At times, he could irritate me like hell but he could still arouse me at the same time. The sexy pest, I could call him. "Listen close, Ricci, cause this is the last time I'm gonna explain." I said patiently. "You know Amy, my best friend -"
"Good God." He leaned back and eyed me with horror. "You mean, I am not your best friend?"
"Frank."
The man laughed. "Okay."
"You know how my parents are always after me to get attached. Even after I'd told them I'm gay," I reminded him. It was the story of my life. Months ago after agonizing about telling them, I'd finally come out to my parents and my family. Surprisingly, they took it quite well especially since I'd half expected tearful recriminations and threats of leaping from the nearest tall building. To my utmost surprise, my mother had just nodded knowingly and my father had given me a short warning on safe sex. To be on the safe side, I'd escaped before he'd started giving out a pack of Trojans. "Well, they are starting think that it might be a phase. You know about the infamous matchmaking scheme. Well, they've gone overboard, they are giving Amy hints that we should get attached. Amy and me."
"You know, your parents might be on to something." Eyes narrowing, he looked closely at me. "I am starting to think that too. You haven't dated anyone -- as in someone with a Y chromosome -- in months." he commented with a grin. "Are you sure you're gay? Maybe it really was a phase."
"Knock it off, asshole," I said dryly and gave him a gentle, playful shove. Under the white cotton shirt he'd pulled on earlier, warm, hard muscles came alive under my fingers and I reluctantly pulled away. "Well, anyway, after months of nagging, I finally gave in and told them I had a live-in boyfriend."
"Aha, you lied," he pointed out with a gleeful smile. "Lil boy scout Michael Wu finally told a lie. Didn't know I'd live to see the fucking day."
"Can it, Ricci." Restraining my urge to hit him again, I shoved my hands in my pockets. Not that it would do any good if I did sock him one since I only reached up to his shoulder. Were all assholes tall? "Damn it. Yes, I lied."
"And you picked me," he gestured to himself with his thumb.
The wide smile on his face was extremely suspicious but I continued hurriedly. "Yes, I picked you. It was the first name that popped into my head. After all, you were my closest friend in town, you're gay and you were not seeing anyone at that time. After all, you'd dated plenty of guys, slept with plenty and ..You were.." I had to face the truth. He was the man I'd chosen first and what a Godawful mistake that would be. Tall, dark, oversexed Italians with dicks the size of Long Island and the libido of an alley cat certainly didn't fit into my plans of a thriving firm, charming suburbia and happily ever-after. Trying to imagine Frank in domestic repose boggled my mind. Sure, his apartment looked like something out of a homemaker's dream but I suspected that the IKEA-inspired dream was the combined effort of his super-efficient housekeeper, Rosa and his interior designer.
Sensing my growing discomfort, he stopped me. "Don't spoil it, Wu."
Taking a quick rest, I breathed a sigh of relief. God knows, I couldn't tell him the real reason why I picked him. Did big dick and a body made for sex count as a valid reason? "I never expected them to drop by so I never really thought that lie would come out. Until this morning."
"When they told you they were planning a visit. And they spoilt all your pretty plans," he nodded knowingly. "There goes your busy schedule for the week, Mike. Did you write them down in your PDA?"
"Yes. And stop smirking, Frank," I warned him. "So I need a fake boyfriend pronto or they'll sic another good, virtuous Chinese girl on me again." The note of panic in my voice was all too real and I knew Frank would understand. Especially since he'd had to rescue me from at least two of those unfortunate 'dates'. Remembering the last incident, I had to smile as I thought of the outlandish story he'd spun to get me out of that predicament.
"So that's your newest plan." Taking a quick stroll around the living room expanse, he returned to his chair and sat down with his head thrown back. Closing his eyes, he pretended to give it some consideration for a moment before nodding his acquiescence. "Fine, I'll do it."
"You will?" His easy acquiescence should have made me happy but it made me suspicious instead. After all, I knew this man far too well to believe that he'd do anything out of the sweetness of his heart. That bright, helpful smile didn't fool me any. Francis Ricci didn't do anything for free -- not for me anyway. What was going on in that gorgeous head of his?
"Yeah, for one day, I'll be your hot Italian lover, your toy-boy, your trophy husband, your -"
"Joseph!" I felt however that I should warn him. "My parents aren't gonna be pushovers, you know. You will be interrogated to hell."
"Don't worry about that, Mike." He smiled, the slow, sexy smile that always caused my temperature to rise, a fact that he probably knew. "After all, sweetheart, I managed to charm you into my arms, didn't I?"
"You wish." Still amazed at his quick compliance, I had to make sure. "So you'll do it?"
"You know I do have my conditions," he said quietly.
Aha, that clinched it. I knew Frank wouldn't agree to my proposition that easily. But I certainly hadn't prepared anything as a barter so I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. "I'll wash your cars."
Frank's left brow went up. "I have a mechanic who does that."
"I know. I will.." What the hell did you give the man who had everything? A sudden inspiration came to me. The man never could resist it. "I'll cook for you. Your favourite lasagna. Promise!"
"I... " He closed his eyes in homage -- my lasagna was my best bargaining chip with him -- and he remained silent for a moment. Then shaking his dark head vehemently, he replied, "You almost clinched the deal but no."
"Then what do you want?" Some dark, perverted part of me had already weaved some explicit X-rated ideas that involved the both of us and a flat surface but I prayed that he wouldn't ask that of me. Not only would that blow up in both our faces, I doubt our friendship could survive that encounter. One quick slip between the sheets and it would be bon voyage for me.
"I haven't thought about it yet actually," he admitted ruefully, biting his full lower lip. Resting on the arm of the settee, he leaned back and his jacket flung wide open to reveal his tight white T-shirt. My gaze was immediately drawn to the dark, chocolate coloured male nipples perched on his hard swell of his pecs.
Giving myself a hard shake, I reluctantly pulled my gaze away from his delicious torso and looked back up at his face. There was a knowing smile on his face that I tried hard to disregard. "Won't you do it just for old time's sake?"
"Old times?" His eyebrow went up again. I hated that trick of his. "When did we have .. any times.."
Looking at that all too earnest face, I started having doubts. "Actually, I think I..."
As I fumbled over my words, he suddenly stood and moved towards me. Leaning forward so that his face was barely inches from mine, Frank growled. "Come on, do you want me to do this or not?"
His warm breath burnt my cheeks and he was close enough that I could practically breathe him in. The scent of Ricci and sex started tantalizing me. If he'd just come closer, I could just bite on that pouty lower lip. "Y-yeah, but I know you, Frank Ricci. And there's something brewing in your head!"
Obviously taking pity on me, he pulled back a little and grinned innocently at me, blinking his deliciously thick lashes with seeming innocence. "Moi?"
"Yes."
"My lips are sealed." Seeing my doubtful expression, he smiled reassuringly. "But you can always interrogate me. The cuffs and whips are in the store room."
That was a vision that I didn't want in my head. Whips, chains and a naked, writhing Italian hunk was something my pounding heart probably couldn't take. Even now, I could imagine his torso, the sleek, finely muscled proportions, the smooth, golden tan, the lightly furred male nipples capping his firm pecs. The quick slash of the whip across his rippling back. My breath caught and I could barely make a sound. Was that a whimper?
Guessing the direction of my thoughts, his voice dropped to a low, sexy purr. It was his fuck-me voice, the voice that haunted me during the night. "Yeah, just think about it. Make me scream, Wu."
An alarm bell started ringing in my head. Hot man alert! At some other time with any other man, I'd probably have shed all inhibitions -- and my clothes too -- and had a wonderful fucking time. But not with this man. He meant too much. And it'd probably last until just after he comes. So before I gave in to what would be a huge mistake, I quickly made my exit with the flimsiest of excuses after pushing Mr God-damned-Irresistible away. Picking up my jacket and downing my drink, I was out his door in a New York minute before he could even recover from his surprise to stop me.
But not before I caught a glance at Frank Ricci standing at his doorway, his eyes burning with desire and a burgeoning erection snaking down his blue jeans. Oh God. As usual, part of me was pleading to stay and have at least a quick bite. Just one good taste to ease the hunger that had been burning in me ever since Ricci first dropped into my life. Even with only thoughts of him in my head, my cock was already hot, hard and trying to break free from my pants. But I was a practical man and that practical side forced me to ignore my darker, X-rated desires. "D-dinner. Be early or face my wrath. Come at 6."
"Will you promise to punish me if I'm late?" he whispered, his voice still husky with desire.
"In your sick lil dreams, Ricci."
His teeth flashed in the dark of the hallway. "See you tonight, Wu."
His rich laughter followed me out into the streets and I knew that I'd be spending at least half an hour alone in the bathroom with my own sick lil fantasies.