The TNT Files, Chapter 6
The following story is fiction. It describes sexually-explicit erotic events between males. If you are offended by this material, are too young, or live in an area where it is not allowed, don't read it. In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms. In the real world, everybody should practice safe sex.
The authors retain all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the authors' consent.
Hugs to Bill, Paul, Sara, Mickey, Ash, Patrick, Evan and Tim for their support and friendship. Tim wrote all the letters signed with his name, inspired the other ones, and did the editing. Of course, I fiddled around with this afterward, so all remaining faults are MINE! Thank you so much, Tim!
This part offers glimpses on the creation of chapter 17 of Tim's story "Dr. Tim and the Boys", which will be posted today, too. Hey, I'm bucking the trend, folks - no dedication!
--Tom
Onesillyrat@aol.com Part 6: Triggers
My Red,
I woke up glued to the duvet! All because of you! I remember having a very vivid dream about you claiming me like Chaz did Trey. God, I felt you inside of me! Even now as I'm writing this my rosebud is twitching, hungry for your cock!
I know you love me, my body, my mind. Never thought somebody as wonderful as you would. I don't deserve you at all, but I've got you. I'm so lucky, yet I'm in hell. Di says I call your name at night when I'm dreaming. She says I should go to you. She might be right. This is killing me.
I couldn't really concentrate on chapter 17, I always got distracted, thinking of you. The conversations with Steve, Gwen, and Trey were well-done. Probably Gwen is right but I hated it when she said that low-profile thing. The problem is not the prof-student relationship, it's them being gay. Things may be like that but this is so wrong!
I found the scene very touching when Trey was sleeping and Chaz woke him up riffling through his hair. That was so sweet! Only you can do it like that!
The talk between Trey and Chaz isn't yet what it could be, but the general going sounds fine to me.
Was that helpful? I'm not myself these days. I need you so!
Your Tommy
Tommy, my love,
I've just read your email about chapter 17. How typical of you to note Chaz ruffling Trey's hair. I wrote that for you. So many of the love scenes in "Tim" are for you, sweet man. And I am eager for your approval, as you must know. Since you have been so instrumental in creating and sustaining the characters of Trey and Chaz, when I write about them, I feel almost as if I am infringing on your territory.
Speaking of all of that, whenever you have time, I'll be eager for your ideas about how to improve the "reconciliation" scene between Chaz and Trey in ch. 17. I was really tired when I wrote the second part of 17. It probably needs lots of help, but I'm sure we can fix it, can't we?
Now, the last time I emailed you, we were kissing, and I was kneading your bubble butt cheeks. To do all that, of course, our cocks would be grinding together, wouldn't they? Aching because they are so tightly confined by our jeans? Let's lose the damned clothes, babe, so I can get my mouth on you. I want to start with your balls, slurping one at a time, licking, sucking, nuzzling the base of your cock as I do. Junior will, of course, do his leaking thing. I'll keep my hands on your butt, bare now, as I work on each succulent 'nad, stroking and squeezing those muscular cheeks, teasing your crack with my fingers.
What do you think would happen next, babe? Wanna tell me?
Meanwhile, I am throbbingly
Your
Red
Hey Red,
I was going to work on the reconciliation scene of 17, but, wow, something came up - not unexpectedly so! I understand how you feel about writing Trey and Chaz, I'd sure feel funny writing Ced!
But back to the most urgent business. As I see it, you are on your knees in front of me, working me over good. I've got my hands buried in your hair, wishing I could touch more of you. So before my knees get too week, I pull you up and haul us over to your bed. I just can't hold still and stay passive when you're pleasuring me, babe. That's something you still have to teach me...
I manoeuver us into my favorite position for 69'ing, me on my back, you above me, your juicy grapes dangling there so invitingly. Two pillows under my head, and I have your sweets in easy reach. So while you are slurping on my candy stick, my tongue does its chameleon trick on yours, catching its prey, your sweet rich mead, mmh, so heady! that's dripping toward me abundantly. I'll never get enough of this!
To get the last drop of your nectar I take your cute cock into my hungry mouth and give it a good suck while massaging your balls gently, and I get rewarded with another dose of your essence.
But now I want to get to your rosebud, lover. I scoot a bit up for better reach, and hear you growling, as you lose my cock for a second. A giggle escapes me, and you let me feel your teeth in revenge. Now I'm growling, I love your little nips and nicks and I want more!
Will you oblige me?
--Tom
PS. I wrote a little something for you. It's posted in the guestbook of my disco, under "Liebesgrusse." Hope you like!
You're the lion roaring in my sleep
Yours is the hand that has me aching
When I'm sleeping you're closer than ever it seems
Yet I'm always alone when I'm awaking...
Cubbylove,
I'm thinking about responding in kind to your quatrain, and I'd like to stay with your rhyme scheme. (BTW, I like the alternation of masculine and feminine rhyme there.) The problem is, all of the rhymes with "dreams" seem so trite: teems, schemes, reams, beams, gleams, etc. Meanwhile, thanks, lover.
Now, where were we? Ah, yes.
We were sixty-nining, me on top, sucking and slurping vigorously, using just a hint of teeth in response to your giggling. I never understood what the pleasure could be for the one doing the sucking -- until I tried it! Now my mouth and tongue are hungry for that hard, hefty, smooth, hot, throbbing, delicious rod, and I contentedly lap the sides to taste all the delectable oozings, occasionally digging into your slit for more. You spasm slightly when I do that, and I growl in response. But I can't wait any more, so I engulf your beautiful mushroom head with my eager mouth and suck like a baby on a tit. That must be what you wanted, because you begin to lift your hips slightly to meet me. You literally make my mouth water because you are so delicious. Between the saliva and the precum, there's lots of lubrication as you, in effect, fuck my face. I'm vibrating with pleasure, purring now, perhaps, rather than growling.
Suddenly it's my turn to spasm as I feel your tongue on my rosebud. I want you so bad, I wiggle my ass, trying to get it closer to your teasing tongue. In response, I use the tip of my tongue on the under side of your shaft, going back and forth over that special spot just below the flange. So intensely do I need you inside me at both ends, I take a deep breath, relax my throat, and take you all the way. For the first time, my nose is buried in your beautiful blond bush! And still I'm wiggling my ass, trying to thrust it in your face. I need more!
Your itching and twitching
Tim
Hey, Timmy the Red,
Yeah, you need more, lover, and don't I always try to give you what you need? Even now that my brain cells are melting in that fire you're rousing down there on my cock, so that I'm way beyond acting rationally, I feel it through the bond that exists between us. And even if I didn't, there's no way I could resist that twinkling invitation in front of me.
So I oblige both of us and give your little rosy lovebud a tiny wet flick directly to its center, which sets off another series of spasms, and a powerful tightening of your throat around my rod. And again, oh wow, I just discovered my very own remote for your hot mouth! I continue, till you have to come up for air... THEN I pull your cheeks slightly apart for better manoeuvering, plant my mouth firmly on your lovelips, suck, and push my tongue into you - hard! What a lovely scream that gets me! You're shivering, baby... So I keep sucking and pushing into you, your muscle starts to relax, and now I can really play with it... You're not sucking me anymore, you're too busy panting your pleasure. Instead you hold with both hands onto my tool and lick just the tip, over and over. Any more of this and I'll come...I don't want this to be over yet!
I french your juicy hole till the last possible moment, then I shout, hoarsely, "Stop!", and you back off, and since you know me you give me a good pinch to my glans to stop my oncoming orgasm most effectively. "Shit!" I yelp. You turn around, and grin, knowingly. You're so hot when you're cocky like this. I can't take my eyes off you.
"Ride me, lover!" I plead. Will you?
--Tom
Tommylove,
Your request took me a little by surprise because we've never done that. I'VE never done that. But when you plead, what can I do?
I've got your hot, red, throbbing, gorgeous cock wet with my spit, plus all that precum you've been oozing.
And you have me, as you said, panting with pleasure. My love chute is open, twitching, wet with your saliva, and aching for you. I put you on your back, and kneel astraddle you, looking into your beautiful face.
Slowly, I lower my needy butt toward your upright pole. The first time I try to get you in me, there's so much spit there, your cock slips, sliding along my perineum, and pokes me in the balls. We are both startled, and then you giggle. As I look into your eyes, Junior is throbbing and, as usual, oozing.
Once more I try, this time using my hand to steady your hot, pulsing cock. And this time, our aim is better. Your beautiful dick is against my eager opening. All I have to do is sit, slowly. I want you inside me so fiercely that I am tempted to just drop onto you, but I make it slow so that we can both savor the sensation.
Slowly, slowly, I feel your rampant, rigid, wet cock slide into me, filling me with YOU. This is so unbelievably great because you hit my button as I first lower myself onto you. Sparks fly. I gasp! You groan. We're joined, love, as we are supposed to be joined.
Now I'm glad I am a runner. It takes strength in the thigh muscles to do what I am doing to you, raising my body, lowering my body. You try to help, and I push you back against the bed with one hand. This is my "treat." Just lie there and enjoy it, lover. Let me pleasure us both.
Up slowly. Oh, damn, that's fine! So slowly, so fantastic! At the point where your flanged mushroom head is about to recede from my anal ring, I reverse direction, ever slowly, and the feel of your dick against the lining of my colon is indescribably stimulating.
I WANT to work my ass up and down quickly, I NEED to come! But, with a great effort of will, I maintain the slow pace, gradually going up, then down, as we both look into each other's eyes, yours so very green.
I can't help it. I lean forward, almost to the point where you come out of me, just so I can kiss you. That delays the impending orgasms for a moment as we wildly suck face.
Out of breath, we pull our mouths apart with a champagne pop, and I begin once more the slow raising and lowering of my butt onto your steely pole.
What happens next, lover? Tell me!
--Tim
Timmybabe,
This is an unearthly experience, watching you, feeling you make love to me. I could lie here for hours, my gaze riveted to the play of your sweaty muscular thighs. You will feel this tomorrow, baby, but I'll never forget that picture for my whole life. It will be etched into my brain forever.
You're trembling with the effort of keeping this slow, and can't I empathize with that! The urge to buck up is so strong, it becomes nearly overpowering. "Just lie there and enjoy it," you said. Heaven help me, I want to do as you say! I clench my teeth, my fists, as you descend upon me another time, so slowly.
I'm so close to grabbing you, throwing you on your back and fucking you into the mattress! So close, I scream when you lift off of me again! Hell, yes, you're in the driver's seat today, I wanted it like this and can see how much you enjoy it. So I plant my hands around the rails of the headboard in a deathgrip. The expression of grim determination must be visible on my face, because it makes you grin, if a bit shakily. Which in turn makes me grin.
But not for long. 'Cause right in front of me is this delicious piece of man-flesh, bobbing up and down with your motions. Red, wet and rigid, begging for attention... "Touch yourself," I tell you, my voice hoarse. You obey with a moan that sounds nearly desperate. Thankfully, as you're jacking yourself, you increase the tempo of your fucking. It IS you who does the fucking here, though my cock is buried inside you.
We're both shouting with every thrust now. Our gazes are locked - this is so intense! Your sweat's dripping down on me in abundance, and I'm just losing it. With a roar I let go of those fucking rails, clamp my fingers around your nips instead, and meet your next move down with a forceful thrust up! "Yes!" you scream, throwing your head back. Oh that strong column of your throat! I'll bite it next time! But now we're speeding up! Fucking ourselves into oblivion, our flesh clashing together, and I'm pinching your nubs fiercely.
I can feel you tightening up around me, providing still more of that wonderful silky friction for my sizzling cock. I let go of your nips, grab your sexy ass, and help you ride me, lifting you up, guiding you down. I'm so close. You seem to be too.
--Tom
Tomstud,
Close? Seem to be? Your granite rod is up my ecstatic hole, you were pinching my nips, now you are clutching my butt, and, at your request, I'm jacking myself! If this ain't nirvana, buster, I don't know what is. But it can't last. All good things "cum" to an end. And you know what triggers it?
The look in your eyes, on your face. Your eyes aren't glazed over, they aren't closed. They are looking back at mine with Love, sweetheart! You love me! And THAT'S what makes me come.
I want to hold it, to make the moment last forever, but I can tell from the feeling in my balls that they are going to erupt. I begin to shudder all over. That has never happened before. And it comes. And comes. I don't shout. The first volley lands on your face, and that seems to be all you need. You buck your hips up powerfully, almost knocking me off of you, as you unload a river of hot jizz into me. I think you lunge with each spurt of cum. You, too, say nothing. I'm trying to keep my balance, never looking away from those green eyes that hold me slave to you.
And then you lie still, gasping, as I am. I relax my legs and allow myself to sit for a moment while your still hard cock is in me. You have my cum in your tawny hair, on the bridge of your sexy nose, and between your pects.
You lie there smiling up at me, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
As I lean forward to lick the cum from your face, your cock pulls out of my ass with a soft, slurping noise. I use my tongue, catlike, to clean you up, not missing the dollop of cream on your smooth chest. And then, lying on top of you, I feed it to you in a long, tender kiss.
--Tim
P.S. Look at the guestbook...
Awake or asleep, you're NOT alone;
He's with you always, ne'er forsaking,
Longing to claim you as his own -
This lion is always yours for the taking.
TOM:
That was it. I had a long talk with my sis Di, we packed my things, and the next evening saw me in a plane headed to Florida.
Dying a thousand deaths...
I'm really afraid of heights, you know. When I look out of a window in, say, the second story of a building, I kinda want to jump. When I'm on the towers of Notre-Dame, quelle surprise, I wanna jump. When I'm onboard a plane, I wanna die rather than be so afraid for only one more second. Completely irrational, yes, but I can't help it. So, in spite of having swallowed a double(!) dose of those pills Di's friendly neighborhood Doc had prescribed me, I took off for a major angst tour.
I thought how tragic this was, to die before I met you. I had made my will yesterday. I had written and sent a letter to you, in which I told you how much I loved you, how grateful I felt for having gotten to know you. That I would die thinking of you, with your name on my lips, and that I didn't want you to be sad, and that nothing of this was your fault. I had been very aware of the risk I was putting myself at, and had found it worth a try. In case I survived, I would have to try to get to that letter before you did. But that was one thing that didn't worry me too much right now. Shit, why didn't those pills work? Or did they? I felt decidedly strange.
Really, you are the only person for whom I would have done this. After eight hours on that Airbus, and only about one to go, I was drunken and drained from fear. And I hesitantly began to face the fact that I might live after all. What to do now? I hadn't planned ahead that far. Well, Di had arranged for a rental car, but that was all. I left the plane on my own two feet, feeling kind of surreal.
I was such a mess! Sweaty, pale, weak-kneed. I'd figured that if you saw me like this, you'd probably send me back where I came from. I had to be in shape for our meeting. In the best possible shape. Not the nervous wreck I was now.
Totally in a daze, I retrieved my baggage, got the rental, and drove off in search of a place to stay the night and recover. Not here in Tampa. Somewhere closer to you. As close as possible without actually meeting you.
The familiar routine of driving helped me get a grip on my wayward nerves. I followed the route the guy at the car rental place had suggested till I saw the exit for the famous gardens in your town. I found a motel close to them and checked in. Showered, changed clothes. I asked the clerk if the park was in walking distance, and he said yes, about 20 minutes by foot.
Suited me. A long walk was what I needed to get rid of my inner tension and fight jet-lag. Six hours of time difference. At home it'd be dark now, and cold. Here it was noon, and warm. I had my backpack with me, containing a disc-man, Iron Maiden's Brave New World, and a CD of the Manic Street Preachers. "Everything Must Go" was just on. I love that song. I'd brought also our special book, an annotated Hamlet edition, not for reading but for moral support, for comfort.
It took me only 15 minutes to reach the park. I kind of jogged there, I was wound up so tight! Caught in the claws of my fear, my insecurities. I'm not usually such a drama-queen, but these were, whatyoucallit? - extenuating circumstances?
Tomorrow I was going to meet - for the first time - the love of my life. My other half. The man who, with an ocean between us, made me feel complete. For whom I wanted to be good because he perceived me as such. Who believed in me before I did. Saw my possibilities and made me live up to them. (At least I try to!)
I closed my eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath as the magnitude of what I was going to do hit me. When I opened them again, I took in my surroundings for the first time. My aimless wanderings had taken me to a crossroads. I wanted to be alone, so I chose a small path that meandering-like vanished behind trees and shrubbery.
It led me to a small gate, part of a fence that surrounded something like a farmhouse garden. In one corner, in front of a rockery, stood a stone bench. I sat down on it. It was warm from the sun. The stones right and left were half overgrown with all kinds of herbs. Thyme, rosemary, lavender. I closed my eyes again and just enjoyed the fragrances that were heavy in the air.
They reminded me of a trip I had made to the south of France, to the villlage of Les Beaux, where I had sat in the sun just like now, only there the sound of the crickets had been overwhelming.
I stretched out on the bench, soaking up its warmth. It was soothing. New resolve grew in my mind. I had been so blessed in meeting you. I was going to embrace this wonder that you are to me with all my heart. And my body. There it was again, the yearning that I'd lost somewhere in the turmoil of this day.
It was back, stronger than ever. Tomorrow I'd meet you in person. And I was not afraid.