When he left Stan's place the next morning, Rick headed to the gym, and then to the office. He had checked in the mirror of Stan's bedroom, to make sure he didn't have a hickey after the night before - it had been HOT, and he was sore. And more in two days... Rick had a chance to get home - he didn't have anything pressing to do at the office - so he could pick something "fine" to wear. As he was going through his closet, he saw that there was a message on his cell. He picked it up.
"Hey Rick. Commander Simpson, LA here. Hope you don't mind the informal call. Anyhow, we're looking to fill a position for Captain out here, and your name came up. I think you'd be a good fit and so does brass, but of course, we're competing with New York, so it you said no, we'd all understand. Anyhow, give it a think and give me a call. It'd be good to have you back, but I'm hoping you're happy in NYC. "
Rick got off the phone, and sat for a minute. This could make things complicated, or it could make things difficult. Did he have a relationship now? He wasn't sure. If he were about to get into a relationship, what did that mean? He had to talk about that with Stan. Yeah, he loved taking Stan's cock. BUT... if he took this job, he'd be the first police captain in LA who was a man of color. Maybe he could even come out too. He suspected that, if he coupled up with Stan, he'd have to give up something he loved: topping. Yeah, he had only been with Stan a few times, and the whole length of time was short, but since they started, he hadn't gone out at all. He either spent his time with Stan, or working, or at home. And Stan won the "the biggest dick does the topping" contest - Rick had pushed things because he wanted to feel what it felt like to be topped - but could he become a "bottom?" He didn't think Stan was gonna be agreeable to switching positions, but would he be ok with Rick taking a piece of ass every now and then - actually, MORE than every now and then - at least once a week. He sighed. Stan was willing to give up his very lucrative escorting business to be exclusive to Rick. Rick hadn't asked for that - Stan offered it up, and Rick had been touched. What was he to do? He would think about it between now and Friday. But ... it was time to look sharp. He pulled out one of his favorite shirts: a white one, with small red polka dots, paired it with a subdued necktie, and a dark gray suit. "I'd fuck me," he laughed as he grabbed his briefcase and made his way to the office.
Meanwhile, Stan was thinking about what he had asked Rick. "He's gonna say no," he told himself. Stan assumed that since he wasn't the beauty Rick was, didn't make the money he did, and didn't have the fashion sense, Rick would never want to be with him for more than some serious fucking. On one level, that was pretty cool, because Rick was so much more handsome, and so much more fun, than Stan's clients. A casual roll in the hay with Rick every now and then could be fun. But Stan was feeling that he wasn't getting any younger, and he wanted to settle down. He wanted a relationship badly. The kind of guy he went for was a guy like Rick: confident, handsome, secure, independent. And smart. And all those guys wanted someone similar. Stan was none of those. He took a deep breath. For now, he had pulled his escort ads, and had told repeat customers that "I have a mild digestive problem. I'll get back to you as soon as I feel better," and left it at that. Rick had said they'd talk about it on Friday. Stan would do his best to convince Rick, moving in together was the way to go.
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Rick had prepared for Friday the way he prepared for court. He had a list of questions, he had thought through the questions Stan might ask him, and he thought he had an answer to each one. He had played through deciding "yes," and deciding "no." The job offer in LA gave him good cover. If he wasn't going to stay with Stan, he'd take that job. No question about it, so he wasn't forced into moving or taking a job he didn't want. It came down to: the job, or a relationship with Stan, however they defined it. Defining it was the name of the game. So when Friday came around, he put on a blue oxford buttondown, a red tie, a blazer, and khaki slacks. He and Stan were going to meet at Rick's place for the first time, and then they were going to eat at a place near Rick's, which was casual. Stan had balked at any place where he had to dress up because, in his words "I don't own a tie other than the ones I use for bondage," and "the only jacket I have is a strait one" Rick believed him.
At 6:45, the doorman announced Stan. "Sure Horace, send him up please. Thanks." Rick had taken off his jacket and loosened his tie, but he knew that his executive look drove Stan wild and, truth to be told, thinking about Stan and his cock had made him more than a little bit horny. He opened the door. Stan had gone out and bought a jacket: the best he could, and was standing with a bouquet of asters, and a big, big smile. "Hey sweet guy." He handed Rick the flowers. "Oh, what a sweet thing, Stan. Thank you." Rick got up on his feet, so that he could kiss Stan, and then he turned around to get the flowers in a vase. He was trying to focus, and not think about the lump in Stan's pants. When Stan wrapped his long arm around him, that wasn't possible anymore. Stan leaned into Rick and whispered. "You gonna gimme your ass, or do I have to TAKE IT." Rick smiled. He liked this kind of foreplay. "I'm giving you NOTHING. You think you can just come in here and get what you want?" He squirmed in Stan's arm, and found his own arms pulled behind his back. "Damn right I do." Stan began licking Rick's ear, as foreplay to what Rick knew was coming next. the oxford was a rougher cut of cotton than usual, so when Stan started fingering his nips, Rick was in ecstasy almost immediately. Rick had the idiosyncracy of his tongue coming out, and licking his lips when he was turned on. That was happening now. "You gonna give it to me, fucktoi?" Stan whispered harshly, and squeezed Rick's nip. There was no answer and then "yes sir. Take my ass. Take it. " Stan whispered "lead me to the bedroom handsome, I've never been here before. But don't ask me to let you go. Cause I'm not." In fact, Stan tightened his grip around Rick, and proved that his nickname, "The snake" could apply to more than his cock. "Ok studman. But I can't walk." "Well then..." Stan moved his hand to the back of Rick's neck. Now he held him like he were holding a puppy. "Let's go." This wasn't the way Rick had planned things, but Stan, and Rick's cock, seemed to have other ideas. He found himself face down on his bed, after he begged Stan to let him put a cloth under his pelvis so he wouldn't stain the comforter, and then naked from the waist down. He felt Stan pulling apart his ass cheeks. "DAMN look at that fine ass. I've been thinking about it all day. " He whispered to Rick "Anytime I heard someone order half a melon, I got a woodie." Rick laughed at such a sweet comment about how this man felt about him. Then he felt the spit hit his ass crack. "I heard of salted melon, stud, but never THAT way. " "I bet you never heard of sausage stuffed melon either, handsome, but that's what you're about to get." Rick felt Stan's cock head press against his hole. His muscles relaxed. He knew now, Stan wasn't gonna hurt him, however big that monster was, and he began sliding in. "OH GEEZ STAN," Rick's voice came out high, and strained. "Am I hurting you bud? I'll stop. I'll pull out right now.." Stan began to pull back "No, no. It just feels... it just feels SO good. Take me. "His voice got high and desperate. "Take me PLEASE." Stan smiled and got to work. The first time, he had slipped into Rick an inch at a time. Now, he was going in 2-3 inches at a time, and Rick was sucking it all up. "HARDER STAN. HARDER. PLEASE. I want it to hurt tonight. HARDER." "Rick baby, I can't do that to you. I CAN'T. " Then he did. He pushed 4 inches in all at once, and heard the "hiss" out of Rick, before he pushed in even further. "OH YES. MAKE ME KNOW YOU'RE THERE YOU BIG HUNK. PLOW ME. PLOW MY BLACK ASS. PLOW ME.!!!!!!" Stan was doing just that, and wondering what had gotten into Rick. He seemed to be like a jaguar in heat. Rick's hair was too short for Stan to pull it back, but he got his shirt collar. Pulling that gave him more traction, and he got in deeper. "FUCK YEAH. That's what I need. Let me know who's boss, stud. Let me know who's your sex slave. Your Sex BITCH.' 'TAKE IT YOU MOTHA FUCKA." Stan had never yelled that before, in all of his years of escorting, and as he did, he poured into Rick's ass. Now, HE was glad Rick had put the cloth underneath him, because so much cum flowed out, that Rick's ass was losing it on the cloth. Rick was dripping himself. Stan could see that when he rolled Rick over on his back. "You're gonna shoot for me, stud bitch. You're gonna shoot. " Rick moved his hands down to begin jerking, and Stan grabbed them, pushing them over his shoulders. "NOPE. Nope nope nope. You're gonna shoot when I want ya to." He pinned down Rick's hands by laying across one arm, and pinning Rick's second wrist with his one hand. Then he moved his second one down to Rick's raging hard on. He ran beard stubble over Rick's ear. "Hmmm. Looks like if I let you, we'd be seeing you shoot in seconds. " Then he whispered. "Not gonna happen. Mancunt." "Mancunt. " the word made Rick's cock jump. No one had ever called him that. He loved it, and hated it. He wasn't ANY man's cunt. But... what was he doing here, moaning and begging for release. What was he doing answering "You are Sir, " when Stan whispered "Who's your Top man? Who FUCKS you?" Stan had a talent for edging. Rick usually came very quickly after he reached full erection, but not with Stan. Stan seemed to know when to squeeze and to cut things off, and then to tease him back. He kept it up for a good fifteen minutes, teasing Rick along the way. "Wanna cum, studmuffin?" "Yes sir. Please let me cum." "Ah, that doesn't sound sincere." "Kiss me Sir. KISS ME. I'll show you how sincere it is. " "Ya ready big boy." "Yes sir. I am. PULEEEEEEZE. " "Nah." Stan let go of Rick's cock. He was laughing. "I could keep you at this for hours, rick. You know that." "Nah, you couldn't. At some point, I'd explode." Rick laughed. "Well, if you shot without permission... I dunno. Have to find out something to teach you a lesson." Then, unexexpectedly, Stan let go of rick's wrists. He looked at him. "Hold my head down on your cock. NOW" Stan deep throated Rick's cock. Rick was so surprised at how good Stan's tongue felt, he almost didn't react. Then he did to Stan what he had done to so many twinks before. He pushed his head down to try to force a gag reflex. Stan didn't seem to have one. But he gave DAMN good head. "FUUUUUUUCK" Rick shot deep into Stan's mouth, and Stan sucked down every drop. Stan knew from their first two times, that Rick didn't like kissing when jizz was involved, so he rolled to the side. "Great sex babe. GREAT AWESOME FUCKING SEX. " He saw the big smile on Rick's face as he said "In my top 10. No. My top 5. First two with you are up there too."
Rick wanted to clean up before they went to eat, so Stan sat and looked at some magazines. Rick wasn't much of a reader, and his magazines were all of the fashion, and "men's" magazine types. No porn, but GQ, Esquire, etc. Some magazines in Italian and French, clearly about fashion. Stan looked through them, and thought "NONE of these guys is as handsome as my Ricky." He would NEVER use "ricky" to Rick, but he was allowed to think it. Rick came out in a beautiful blue polo and jeans. The shirt was a size too small, so it showed off his arms. Stan found himself wanting a second round. "Can I brush my teeth or something before we go?" "If you wanna kiss me tonight, you better." Stan wanted to kiss. He ran off. He was ready in ten minutes.
The restaurant was a little crowded, and so when Stan grabbed Rick's hand on the table, Rick pulled it back. "Under the table maybe, handsome?" Stan's eyes were wide, and almost begging. "Sure. For a little while." Stan squeezed Rick's hand, and Rick had to admit to himself, it felt good. Why was he so damned afraid to show it in public?" Stan's voice had a different color when he asked. "Rick, I don't know how to ask this. My place isn't nearly as nice as yours, and I wouldn't dream of polluting your place with my junk, but... hell, would you move in with me? Be my boyfriend? My lover? " The charming way he just assumed that Rick wouldn't want his stuff around was disarming Stan. Had he ever met a man this "real?" Was he HALF as real as this sweet, honest man, who clearly adored him? OH SHIT, this was hard. Rick used his biggest smile, after he had disengaged the handholding.
"I have to ask you something Stan. We're moving pretty fast. You know that don't you?" "I do. I really do. But I feel like there's something between us. Do you feel it Rick?" Rick was going to lie, then he didn't. He couldn't lie to this sweet heart of a human being. "I do. I never thought that this was gonna be more than one fuck and then we'd move on, but I think about you all day Stan. I look forward to these evenings. But... I have to ask you something. Something really important. " Rick was sweating. This was it. He was afraid of the answer. "Stan, are you ever gonna take MY cock anywhere but your mouth?" Stan looked at him "Uh, no. I was surprised I did THAT tonight, but I wanted it. I know I'm good at that, and I wanted to give you the best orgasm you could have. But no, no one gets near my ass." Rick tried a new approach. "I don't understand. I gave you mine." "Rick, you asked me to take you. You were gonna pay me. You wanted it. You wanted ME in you. I don't want ANYONE in me." "SHIT. " He was being honest and that was making this very hard . "Ok, then let me ask you this. You know before you, I was 100% top, and I haven't topped since then." Stan laughed. "Yeah. I really flipped you, didn't I?" Rick looked down. "Well, not exactly. I still want to top. If I move in with you, and bottom for you, can I still have some freedom to fuck other guys? You know, top them? I'd only bottom for you." "FUCK Rick, NO. I'm giving up my income stream to be with you. Can't you give up screwing twinks for me?"
That answer made things easy, and hard, for Rick. Now, in the restaurant, he reached out and squeezed Stan's hand. "This is gonna be very hard to say Stan. I... I got a job offer today. A really good one. First man of color to be a captain in a police force. But the police force is in LA." Stan's face fell, and then he recovered and smiled. 'RICK. THAT'S GREAT. GEEZ, I wish you'd have told me. I'd have ordered champagne, or something like that." "Hey thanks man. Nah, champagne's not really my thing. But I'm gonna take the job." "How can you not Rick? This is a GREAT opportunity. Listen, is there gonna be a party or something? " "Nah, not for this. I feel like I just got to NY and I'm going back. So..." He paused and squeezed Stan's hand hard. "Maybe we just gotta put this on hold for when I come back to NY, if I do." Stan squeezed back. "I guess so. Know what I learned from you Rick?" "You learned something from me? I'm flattered. No, tell me." Stan squeezed harder. "That I'm entitled to the very best. Work is one thing, but if I'm gonna give my heart to anyone, they've got to measure up to you. And that's gonna be hard." Rick felt like he was gonna cry. "Maybe we should order some food." Stan smiled. "You know, I hope you don't mind Rick, but my stomach is doing somersaults. I think I probably ate some bad shit at the diner today. I'm gonna need to get home . So..." Rick began to stand. "No, no. Have a good dinner. Have a great dinner. Don't let me get in the way. I'm gonna go grab a cab. You be good. And let me know when we can get together before you leave." He was up and out the door so fast, Rick didn't even have time to think. HELL. What had he just done?
The next day, he called and accepted the LA job. They wanted him out in California as quickly as he could get there, so he spent the weekend packing. In between his packing chores, he called Stan. He texted him. He never heard back.
On Tuesday, Rick flew back to California. Monday had been Stan's day off, and late on Monday, he received a text from Rick. "Hope you're doing ok bud. I had some of the best times of my life with you. Settle for second best, because I'm the best, ha ha. Just don't take third prize. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox'
Stan called in sick the next day, and stayed home and cried. On Wednesday, he put his personal ad back on line.
Rick was in California for three years. That was before he came back to NY