A gay sex stories: Love in the Time of War “How was the trip, Mr. Anderson?”
Reflexively, Grant winced and unleashed a groan issuing from his lower G.I. tract.
Ellen frowned sympathetically. “You need to catch up on sleep and decompress.”
“Luckily the weekend’s only, what, three days away?”
“Some CEOs would give themselves a day off,” Ellen said as she unlocked the secure drawer of her desk. Grant groaned again and continued to his office with luggage in tow. He took in the view of Puget Sound as he settled into his chair. It was an expensive view, he thought, but worth it.
His secretary laid a thick binder on his desk. “This arrived by courier this morning. Your mail is all sorted. Nothing too pressing.”
“Thank you, Ellen.” Grant grabbed his scissors and sliced through the seal marked: EYES ONLY. He added “Please shut the door and try to fend off all interruptions.”
“I’ll do my best but I’m only human.” She paused. “You really look like you could use some rest.”
He chuckled. “Thanks for reminding me I look like hell.”
Grant barely got halfway through the first paragraph before his thoughts drifted and his eyes migrated to his view of the distant islands. He picked up his iPhone and composed a quick text to Sean.
– I’m back. Would love to spend the evening with you. Possible? –
Grant had just started the second paragraph when his phone dinged
– Yea! Been missing you like crazy. I’ll be waiting at your place. What time? –
– 7:30. I’ll have Ellen order dinner. Salmon OK? –
– Perfect. You’ll need the protein. –
Grant went back to his report. At 49, he was one of the world’s largest manufacturers of military munitions. He had converted his family’s dying metal foundry business into casting artillery shells then expanded with plants in the States, Canada and South Korea. Twenty years ago, he had foreseen that remote controlled drones were the future of warfare and now only Iran could rival his technology. With the fierce war being waged in Ukraine, business was booming, pun intended. The gleaming new headquarters in Seattle provided his home base but travel kept him hopping between D.C., NATO Headquarters in Brussels, Kiev, Seoul and Ontario.
Grant’s life was frantic between work and occasionally golf, which, since he played exclusively with generals and politicians, amounted to business outdoors. A conventional relationship was simply not possible. Too much time required. Way too much effort. Yet, his private life did afford him one single vice: men. Actually a certain type of men. Feminine, almost kittenish beauties with voluptuous asses and delicious cocks.
_______________________
A decade earlier, Grant had rescued Sean from a seedy career in gay porn. Sean had been in high demand. As a beautiful 5 foot 7 femboy with Jezebel blue eyes, he could beguile the straightest arrow. And with a practiced swish of his delectable ass, he was the stuff of every horndog’s fevered dreams. On top of that he could actually deliver a line of dialogue with conviction. Even in the sluttiest scene Sean came across as a genuine person. Any viewer would cast his eyes upon that beautiful fem and see someone more than a cum dump. Every viewer would blow his load thinking that Sean deserved something better in life. That Sean deserved someone like him. A porn star was born.
Before a producer had spotted him on the street, Sean was the furthest thing from a star. He had realized his attraction to men at thirteen and was smitten with an all-consuming crush on the older brother of his best friend. He dreamed of the brother’s touch, his kiss and, yes, his cock. But Sean’s first taste of cum was from his abusive step-father who shoved his wretched dick into Sean’s mouth. Before the year was out, the stepfather grew tired of fucking Sean’s sweet mouth and took to raping Sean’s ass. His mother was dependent upon that horrible man both financially and emotionally. Her denial was absolute and she chose to ignore her son’s suffering rather than face the obvious truth. Sean fled home at sixteen.
Fast food jobs and a friend’s vacant garage apartment kept him from the streets long enough to finish High School. But when his friend went off to college the guy’s father cast Sean out, too. On his own, Sean was like chum in a sea of sharks. He barely managed to escape being devoured until that Adult Film producer came along. Sean succumbed to bare necessity and found harbor in the naked employ of porn.
It wasn’t all bad at first. The money provided a secure roof over his head in the form of a beautiful apartment he shared with two other young stars. They were fun-loving guys and more sophisticated than him, and they introduced Sean to a healthier expression of his long abused sexuality. The playful affection of their little household opened a whole new world of sexual experience. The joy of kissing and caressing. The thrill of cock-play and frottage. The electrifying frisson of fellatio done well.
“Make your lips soft and moist,” the smooth, pale Jamie said, “and tenderly kiss here beneath the cockhead.”
The demonstration made Sean shiver. “Ohh, fuck that feels so good.”
“Yeah, right? The camera loves that action. And forget about deep-throating at first. Just work the crown with relaxed lips and let your tongue tickle where you had been kissing. Like this.”
“Ohh, fuck. Ohhhh …”
Little Willy piped in. “I call that fluffing the pillow.” He was twenty-three but looked fifteen. His stage name was a reference to his diminutive cock but it was his bubble-butt that stole the show. “And don’t forget the underside of the dick. If you do it right, it will drive a guy nuts. Yuk. Yuk. Here, let me show you.”
Willy nudged Jamie aside and started to nibble and munch on the delicate ridge of Sean’s swollen member.
Sean’s head fell back on the pillow as he moaned.
“Dude,” Jamie chastised. “You gotta watch close to what he’s doing. Willy’s a master of giving head.”
Breathlessly, Sean tried to muster words. “I’ll try but you guys sure make it hard.”
Willy came up for air. “That’s the point,” he laughed and continued for a minute more. “And that, ta-da, is how you shoot a scene.” Then Jamie and Willy both pounced on the naked, supine Sean, trading kisses with him as they cuddled like horny kittens.
The making of pornos, however, was not the same as their play at home. Not by a long shot. Sean was always cast in incest scenes were a lecherous uncle would, with a leering wink and a clumsy grope, deflower the willowy boy. This passed for seduction in the incest genre. Though it was painfully reminiscent for Sean, he managed to play his part well. He could make himself blush as if with excitement and give tremulous gasps of supposed glee. But the older guys he played opposite invariably reeked of stale cigarettes and waved their enormous cocks as if they were irresistible icons of virility. To compensate, Sean was forced to hone the skills of an actor. He tried to introduce the techniques that Willy and Jamie had taught but the guys would force his head down and gag him with their viagra-infused hard-ons. Still, Sean stayed convincingly in character when he was finally allowed to come up for air. He would ogle the swollen monster as if it were a masterpiece, a rope of slobber linking lips to cock. Then the hand would force him to choke on the cock again.
What happened next was even worse. By the marvel of modern medicine, Sean’s ass would be plundered relentlessly, unmercifully, from every angle, by a pharmaceutically enhanced dick. There was nothing alluring about a long day of that.
“Okay, Max, get the camera in close and you, Dr. Equine, really give it to him. Hard. Harder. Now Sean, I want to see how much you love that cock.” The pounding of his tender ass was becoming more percussive and painful. “Really show it. You fucking love it. You can’t get enough. Come on, Sean, let me hear it. Make me believe it.”
When it was over, Sean would get his check. “Any chance I could do a twink on twink scene next time? Or something more, you know, romantic?”
“What are you talking about? That was romantic as fuck. Naw, Sean, you are the star of the Daddy porn. You are money, as we say.”
Outside, Dr. Horsefuck was hanging out with the camera guys, smoking a fat cigar like a heavyweight champ. “Hey good scene there … Sean was it? Sweet ass you got there kid.”
At home, Sean took a long soak. Candles lit the bath and sandalwood scented the air. Beyond the door, music played over the laughter of his roommates. Everything felt warm and safe. Jamie burst in with a pot pipe. “Check out this chill weed I scored.”
“Gladly.” Sean savored a deep hit.
“We’re going clubbing. Dry off, get dressed and join us.”
“No thanks. I had Dr. Hiyo Silver-cock today and my ass definitely does not feel like dancing.”
Jamie commiserated. “Oh, god, I hate that guy. Hey Willy,” he hollered over the music, “Sean’s butt-hole has PTSD from Dr. Horsedick and doesn’t wanna come.”
Willy popped into the doorway. “Fuck, that guy’s the worst. But come with. You don’t have to dance. Just sit there sipping on your drink and draw the hot guys to your flame, you sexy thing.”
“Ouch. That makes my ass hurt just thinking about it. Naw, you guys go ahead. I’ll party down in my dreams.”
Sean was young but not naive. He watched Jamie and Willy getting drawn into the vortex of drugs and parties that surrounded the industry. He saw how all the quick money they made was spent in a flash and their debts to dangerous men mounted, thus necessitating the need for ever more quick cash. He saw the tarnished dreams in the eyes of the pretty boys just a few years older than him, as their looks faded and their options became more desperate. He was careful with his money and smart enough to be on the lookout for an exit ramp to a better life.
The next morning, as his roommates slept off another debauched night, there was a knock at the door. Sean peeked through the curtain to see who it was. A large man stood there. His dark suit looked expensive and was carefully tailored to fit his muscular form. His hair matched the color of his suit and was meticulously trimmed. As Sean checked him out, the man stared back through aviator glasses.
Sean secured the security chain before tentatively opening the door, “Can I help you?”
“Good morning, Mr. Saunders.” The man spoke precisely but in a comforting tone. Still, Sean was alarmed that the stranger recognized him by name. “I represent Mr. Grant Anderson. He would like to make your acquaintance.”
“He’s a film producer?”
“No. Mr Anderson is a fan who would like to meet you.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t date strange men.”
“It’s not like that, Mr. Saunders. He just hopes you’ll be his guest for lunch.”
“Well thank him for me but no.”
“Again, Mr. Anderson is not proposing anything other than a pleasant lunch. At the Old Oak Bistro. It’s just two blocks from here.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen the place.”
“It’s quite nice actually. Very popular. There’ll be plenty of people there. Totally safe. Mr. Anderson will be there at 12:30. He hopes you’ll join him. Here’s his card.
Sean took the card. It was embossed gold on black. Very elegant.
“Why don’t you check him out online,” the man suggested.
“Thanks, but again, I don’t date fans.”
“I understand.” The man turned to go but stopped and spoke like an old friend. “Sean, look, I’ve worked for Mr. Anderson for three years. He’s a good guy. Totally respectable. Definitely not a creep. It’s just lunch.”
Out of curiosity, Sean googled the mysterious Grant Anderson. Holy shit, he thought, this dude is definitely something big. In addition to his Wiki page, there was a long list of news reports and pictures. Fucking hell, Sean thought, that’s him shaking hands with the President.
Clicking on the Wiki page brought up a portrait shot of a handsome man about forty, fit, with kind eyes and a gentle smile. Arms manufacturer, it said. That struck Sean as ominous but he scanned past his impressive accomplishments to an equally long list of charities and good causes he supported. Generously, it said.
Sean went back to the google search page and the array of photos of Grant Anderson. He was certainly good looking and very distinguished. Each shot was more interesting than the one before. Sean couldn’t help but be intrigued.
A hostess led Sean to the man’s table located discretely to the side. He rose and shook Sean’s hand. “It’s really nice to meet you, Sean. I’m Grant.” He indicated the chair opposite him. “Please join me.”
As they settled in Grant added, “Those films don’t do you justice. You’re really a strikingly attractive man.”
Small talk followed about the menu, the wine list, the weather. Sean quickly felt at ease with the older man who seemed genuinely engaged by Sean’s company. Grant possessed a casual grace without pretense or affectation. The waitress and wine steward immediately fell under his charm and Sean noticed the patrons at nearby tables casting admiring glances his way.
“You’re not at all scary,” Sean noted. “I was afraid you would be.”
“Because of my business? Well, it was an easy opportunity for my family’s declining factories. The military desperately needed a service that we could provide. To be honest though, I’ve never been totally comfortable with it. Even up close, I couldn’t figure out what the hell we were doing in Iraq. Afghanistan was different but somehow felt equally misguided. Still in a dangerous world, despite how confounding our national politics can be, we’re still the good guys on the block.”
Sean smiled at the man’s modesty and worldliness. Grant had such warm eyes and kind smile that Sean was convinced of his non-threatening character. In fact, he felt himself becoming enchanted.
“But enough about me,” Grant said. “Tell me about yourself. Do you enjoy your business?”
Sean responded with a disdainful snort. “Let’s just say I took advantage of an easy opportunity like you. No. I don’t enjoy it at all and as soon as I’ve saved up enough it will be sayonara Dr. Horsecock motherfucker.”
Sean realized how inappropriate his exclamation was in a quaint bistro. He took a quick glance around and was relieved that no other diners had overheard. “Sorry.”
Grant laughed appreciatively. “Don’t apologize. Where do they find those guys, anyway?”
Sean whispered, “In a freak show of queers. I just hope they don’t find one who’s a geek, you know, like bites the heads off of live chickens.”
“Oh no,” Grant laughed louder, “now that would be tragic. Anyway, it’s good to hear it’s not your long-term ambition. What about before that?”
Sean sulled up for a long moment. “I don’t like to talk about that.”
Grant deflected the conversation. “Well then, how’s your Cornish Hen?”
Sean beamed ecstatically. “So good! Best ever. Thanks for recommending it.”
They enjoyed their lunch in quiet for a while before Grant revealed, “Actually, I know a bit about before. Your step-dad and all.”
Sean was once again alarmed. “How could you possibly know about that… that …”
“That monster? Was that what you were going to say?” Grant tried to put Sean at ease with a sympathetic smile. “Alex, the man who came to your door, he provides my personal security, he is former Secret Service. I asked him to make some inquiries. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Why do you need personal security?”
“It’s a dangerous world and my business exposes me to certain risks.”
“Should I be afraid to stand too close to you?”
“No. Here in the States it’s merely a precaution.”
“But you dug into my past.”
“I wanted to be sure you were the type of man I would like to know.”
“And am I?”
“Yes, very much.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Sean had more than just Cornish Hen to digest. Finally, Grant added, “After you left home, your step-dad found another young man to abuse. To rape, I should say.”
Sean stared agape at his new acquaintance. Grant continued. “And after that boy, he found another. Alex and I discussed it and decided that we could not sit passively on this information. It only took a few phone calls from Alex and some emailed documents to resolve the matter.” Grant reached across the table and gave Sean’s hand a reassuring pat. “He’s in prison now. He’ll be there a long time.”
“And my mother?”
“She landed on her feet. Wound up with a good job. So a happy ending all around.”
“You managed to do that as well?”
“A few calls. It didn’t take much.” Grant watched Sean retreat into a dark place. “She was in a tough situation, powerless and afraid. Once she found out the whole truth, I’d bet she regrets everything that happened. Maybe someday you’ll find a way to forgive her.”
“You did all that for me?”
“No. At that time, you were just an image on my computer screen. I did that for me.”
Sean’s blue eyes were moist with tears as he reached out and took Grant’s hand. Wordlessly, he mouthed: thank you.
The rest of the meal was pleasant enough. Grant ordered a second bottle of wine and no one bothered that Sean wasn’t quite old enough to drink. The alcohol loosened the young man’s tongue without him becoming silly or loud. In fact, Grant was impressed by his poise. He wondered how Sean had escaped becoming coarse and where his conversational skills came from. He lost himself in Sean’s flashing blue eyes and beguiling smile. He imagined those lips, how they would feel to kiss, how they would feel glancing across his chest.
He thought back to the films he’d watched over and over again. Sean’s flesh was so pale and unblemished on his computer screen. Now, in person, it seemed to glow with the vigor of youth. He imagined Sean’s cock that he had admired so often, cut and firm and five inches or more. How it swayed like a metronome keeping time as Sean rode even the most vulgar dingus of the most loutish man. He remembered the plushness of his firm, white …
“You’re looking at me very intently.”
Intently, Grant mused, not intensely. This is a man I could talk with through the night.
“Sorry. I hope I wasn’t ogling. I just enjoy looking at you.”
Sean blushed. “I really enjoy being with you.”
Later, Grant sat a polite distance from Sean in the back seat of the town car. After the short ride back, he kissed Sean’s cheek like a whisper before handing him his card.
“I already have your card.”
“This one has my personal number written on the back. I’ll be in town three more days. I hope you’ll call.”
After they drove away, Grant stared wistfully at the scenery along the 405 Expressway. He felt himself being watched. Looking up, there were Alex’s eyes in the rear view mirror.
“I’ve got a good feeling about this one, Sir.”
Grant chuckled. “Imagine how you would feel if you were gay.”
“Actually, after meeting Sean, I’m reconsidering.”
The men shared a laugh. “Keep your eyes on the road, Alex.”
“Yes sir.”
The next night Sean and Grant had dinner in Venice Beach overlooking the ocean. Later, when they entered Grant’s suite, a shiver ran down Sean’s spine. There was concern in Grant’s voice as he asked “Is something wrong?”
“I’ve never done this before.”
Grant was flummoxed. The man was a porn star. He couldn’t imagine what Sean had possibly not done before.
“I’ve never been on a date like this,” Sean clarified. “I’ve never had a gentleman take me to bed.”
Grant responded with the tenderest kiss Sean had ever had. “Let me take you to the couch instead. If you want we can just kiss the night away.”
“That sounds wonderful but I want so much more than that.”
It was there on the couch that Grant first held Sean’s cock in his hand. It was every bit as firm yet soft as he had imagined, and when he first kissed the plump crown, he felt another shiver run up Sean’s spine. That gave Grant pleasure. As did the gentle moans when he slowly sucked the supple shaft down his throat. He felt a longing unleashed in both of them. He savored the moment as well as the cock, sucking it, kissing it, caressing it.
Sean finally pushed Grant back against the cushions and straddled his lap. With the older man’s head between his hands, Sean lowered his lips to his, then pulled away.
“No. Don’t kiss me back. Just let me kiss you.”
With his mouth agape, Grant felt Sean’s lush, moist lips skate atop his. That tongue, so teasing and lewd, made a shimmering circuit of his mouth. Grant sat with head cast back as this beautiful Adonis lavished kisses on his passive mouth, helpless except to moan his craving for everything Sean had to give.
Finally, Sean panted, “Now kiss me back, you fool.”
Grant’s tongue pounced upon Sean’s. Their lips mashed as they rolled to the floor and then across the carpet. Flesh to naked flesh they reveled, hard cocks grinding as they tumbled and kissed. Finally, Sean leapt to his feet.
“It’s time for the gentleman to take me properly in his bed.”
Grant was entranced as Sean scampered to the bedroom, the flawless orbs of his ass jouncing with every step. He followed quickly and found Sean with his ass high and knees spread wide. Between luscious cheeks, a tawny rosette leered back at him. Sean flexed his core and the rosette seemed to wink, enticing Grant with splendid promise.
“You’re so beautiful, Sean Saunders.”
The young man rolled on his back and welcomed his lover with open arms. “So are you, Mr. Anderson. I want you. I want to kiss you, and taste you. I want to feel you inside me.”
_______________
For ten years they had remained together. Or as together as Grant’s schedule would allow. A couple of joyful nights in ribald revelry, or a weekend on Grant’s boat amongst the Orcas out on the Sound, then weeks apart as Grant roamed the Capitals of the free world. Absence kept the hearts fond and the sex hot. It suited Grant’s calendar but left Sean wanting more.
In the meantime, Sean studied art and design at the University of Washington in Seattle. Grant bought him a condo overlooking the water and kept his bank account full. When Jamie visited he teased, “So this is what the life of the kept sex kitten is like.”
“It’s pretty great. I’m six months away from my degree, then who knows what awaits. How’s L.A.?”
“Will’s back in rehab. Meth has ruined him. I don’t know if he’ll ever get clean.”
“Give him my love. I need to get down there to see him.”
“He keeps saying he wants to come up and visit you.”
“I hope he doesn’t. Does that sound terrible to say? But I know he’d want to settle in here. Him and all his problems.”
“You do have room.”
“No, I’ve put all that behind me. And Grant does not abide weakness. Or being taken advantage of.”
“He seems so generous.”
“He is. But he also employs people who know how to take care of problems. Believe me, Will would not want to suffer Grant’s disapprobation.”
“Listen to you! Disapprobation.”
“Six months away from my MFA, Bitch.”
“Would Grant disapprobate if I sucked his lover-boy’s cock.”
Sean wrapped Jamie in his arms. “Grant would not. And neither would I.”
After graduation, Sean spent two years working with a prestigious design firm but dreamed of branching out on his own. One night he broached the subject. “I’ll pay you back,” Sean promised. “Every penny.”
He struck a pose in the bedroom doorway across from the couch where Grant sat. Sean’s eyelids were a slash of lilac shadow and his lips glistened with a rosy gloss. Desire widened Grant’s eyes as Sean slowly pulled at the belt of his silk kimono. It fell open revealing the glistening thong that held his bulging package tight. His cockhead was clearly outlined beneath.
Grant’s words were throaty with lust, “I know you will.”
“I will.” Sean sauntered across the room. “With interest.” He spun around and bent forward enticingly. His perfect ass emerged. The thong plunged between his cheeks. His hips began to undulate as he swayed his back and twerked. “I promise.”
Grant scooted to the edge of the cushion and beckoned to Sean. “You’ve got all my interest, that’s for sure.”
Sean slowly backtracked, his ass rising and falling with each step until he was within arms reach. Grant squeezed each cheek, kneading them deeply. “Closer,” he begged.
Sean felt his lover’s lips on his flesh. With one hand, Grant reached between his legs to fondle Sean’s swelling manhood. With the other hand, Grant extracted the strap of the thong and spread his cheek wide. “So beautiful.”
Grant’s slick tongue swaddled Sean’s tender rosebud. Broad and plush, it tickled the rim. Taut and pointed, it sought his depths. Juicy licks and plunges loosened and opened his ass as shivers ran up Sean’s spine. Grant freed Sean’s hard cock and coaxed it backward with his palm. His mouth abandoned Sean’s ass to engulf the inflamed cockhead. His tongue flitted across the cumhole. Sean writhed beneath his lover’s ministrations.
Minutes later, Sean stood and turned. He kissed Grant as he pulled down the man’s sweatpants. Then, with Grant’s stiff cock in hand, Sean turned back around and guided the stiff member to his ready ass. “Strictly business,” he said as he sank.
Grant moaned as each inch of his member was engulfed within Sean’s cloying sheath. When he was in to the hilt, they paused and caught their breath. “Absolutely.” Grant craned his hardness, pressing it again and again against Sean’s gland. “Strictly business.”
Sean began to rise and fall. “Then let’s shake on it,” he said and he began to twerk. Grant’s cock was trapped deep within Sean’s nether embrace. He felt every contour and contraction within. Sean stretched and twisted. He was tempted to lose himself within the spreading warmth and waves of ecstasy. Instead listened closely to Grant’s mounting breath. Sean stopped before it was too late and allowed Grant’s passion to subside. As his breathing approached normal, Grant said “I love doing business with you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
“Not entirely, no.”
Sean stood. Grant’s cock sprang free. He pouted. Then Sean turned and straddled his lover. Guiding Grant’s cock back to his now gaping hole, he took it in again with a deep sonorous moan and wrapped his legs around Grant’s waist.
“Have I ever told you how perfectly your cock fits inside me?”
“Only a hundred times but I never get tired of hearing it.”
Grant peered deeply into Sean’s eyes. His beautiful face was exotic and enhanced by the slash of color across his eyes and lips. Sean smiled coyly as he flexed his core and tightened himself around Grant’s girth. “You know what I never get tired of hearing?” Sean asked.
“I love you, Babe.”
“I love you more.”
They kissed. Sean started to move and they fucked face to face, chest to chest. Sean’s erection rubbed gently against Grant’s belly with each hunch. At first they moved slowly and kissed deeply. Gradually, the fire within glowed hotter and they gained a bawdy momentum. Suddenly, Sean threw his head back and let out a cry as he painted Grant’s chest with his cum, spurt after spurt. When he was spent, Grant twisted him flat on this back upon the cushions. Long, deep strokes within Sean’s slick ass brought Grant closer and closer. The magma of his loins rose. He held it back as long as he could until the exquisite pressure erupted and spilled his seed deep within his lover. Finally, their breathing quelled and hearts stopped pounding.
“I love you, Babe.”
“I love you more.”
______________
It was a moderately warm day but Grant felt the sweat soaking into the T-shirt underneath his kevlar vest. The heavy helmet on his head trapped and amplified the heat. Embrace the suck, Alex reminded him.
A Ukrainian Colonel pointed towards the east where smoke billowed. The interpreter parlayed the officer’s words. “That’s Bakhmut, he says. You can always find Bakhmut. It’s always right there beneath the smoke, he says.”
About 20 of them stood on the roadway atop a modest hill. Grant and Alex were the only civilians. The only Americans, too. Grant wandered down the road to be alone with his thoughts. Alex followed discretely with an AR-15 slung across his chest.
The Colonel called out. The interpreter repeated. “Don’t leave the road, he says. Landmines are every where.”
Grant looked out across fertile fields blasted and pock-marked by explosions. He imagined the harvest of charred metal and shrapnel they would yield, the bounty of shell fragments. Rows of ancient trees once distinguished one field from another. Now the windbreaks were reduced to splintered matchsticks, not a single leaf left withstanding. The air was sickly with the stench of rotting bodies. Maybe not bodies so much as parts of bodies that even the buzzards left behind. To his left, a village lay in ruins. Every building, shop, and home nothing more than rubble. Grant considered the craters wondering which was the product of a shell cast and loaded in his foundry.
“The black earth,” he said to no one, though Alex overheard. “The richest soil on the entire planet. Now it’s too treacherous to plow.”
He turned his red eyes to Alex. “What the fuck have we done here? What hell have we wrought?”
Alex allowed the moment to sink in before replying, “The Russians did this. Putin. This was a peaceful valley. They are the ones who turned it into a battlefield.”
“A peaceful, verdant valley.”
“You can’t let it get to you, Sir. You provide them with the ability to defend themselves, the ability to remain free.”
Grant nodded as he looked over the scarred countryside. Then with deep breaths he composed himself before returning to the Colonel’s side. “Madness,” he whispered as he passed Alex. “Sheer, utter madness.”
“I’ll do everything I can,” Grant assured the Colonel, “to get authorization to export my newest generation of drones. Heavy kamikaze drones that can blast through the hull of any ship in the Russian fleet. I’ll go straight from here to the Pentagon.”
__________________
Sean met Grant at the door. “Welcome home, Babe.”
Grant’s kiss was brief but his hug was close and long. Sean felt a heaviness lift. “Man, this trip was a motherfucker.”
“I bet. We’ve got time for a glass of wine before dinner arrives. Let’s sit outside.”
The sun was setting behind the Olympic Mountains sending rays of fire skimming across Puget Sound. Sean handed Grant a glass of very chilled white wine and sat facing him on the love seat overlooking the water. Grant rolled his glass across his brow and sighed.
“Want to tell me about your trip?”
“Not really. The Ukraine brass made sure I saw the worst of the worst which, believe me, was beyond horrendous. The hospitals overflowing with amputees. Wards filled with survivors of incessant barrages who finally snapped. Those eyes. Shattered.”
“I can’t imagine.” Sean left a tender kiss on his cheek. “Maybe we should just enjoy the sunset and the beauty of this night.”
The caterer arrived and set out a perfect meal. Sean lit some candles and made happy chat with the topics he had prepared. The music was right. The food was good. The wine was better. Grant’s mood began to lift. He was laughing when his iPhone dinged.
“It’s NATO.” Grant did some quick math. “Christ, it’s like 6 A.M. in Brussels. Sorry, Babe, I better take this.”
Grant disappeared into his office and Sean heard the heavy door to his soundproof communications room seal shut. Twenty long minutes passed before Grant emerged. At a glance, Sean could tell his gloom had returned. “Care to talk about it?”
Grant simply shook his head. “Can’t.”
The fireplace was lit and they retired to the couch. Sean opened Grant’s shirt. His tongue teased the nipples as he deftly loosed his lover’s pants. He kissed and tickled a path downward as his hand caressed Grant’s manhood. It remained limp. Sean’s mouth left a glistening trail up and down the cock. His lips fluffed the pillow and sucked the soft shaft deep.
“This never happens for me. Sorry, Babe.”
Sean was not accepting defeat. His tongue worked the delicate nerves while his fingertips enticed Grant’s tender perineum. He drew the flaccid meat in his juicy mouth and willed the blood to rise with sucks so deep he hyperventilated. He tried everything to resuscitate Grant’s wonderful cock but only succeeded in causing it to shrink even more.
“I’m sorry, Babe,” Grant sounded emasculated. “It’s just not going to work tonight.”
Sean could see a deeper gloom in Grant’s eyes. “That’s OK. Maybe, let’s just dance instead. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Sean shucked Grant’s slacks across the room but raised his briefs to their proper place. “We can’t have you indecent on the dance floor.”
Diane Krall filled the night with romantic ballads as they swayed in the firelight. With his hands under Grant’s shirt, Sean nuzzled lazily on his nape. His voice crooned, “You’re such a great dancer.”
“I love dancing with you.”
Sean wrapped a hand on the back of his neck and commanded his lover’s head downward. He raised his mouth to Grant’s. “Just let me kiss you. Don’t kiss me back.” His lips and tongue enticed a moan of yearning from Grant and he drifted within a fugue of sensuous motion through the entire song.
“Okay, now just stand there,” Sean said in a teasing tone. “Right there, and close your eyes.”
Grant grinned but complied. “What are you up to, you little devil.”
“That’s for you to find out.”
Finally, Grant heard a chair being dragged across the carpet. A dining room chair, he guessed. It pressed against the back of his knees as Sean’s hands took his shoulders and urged him down. “Just sit there and keep those eyes closed.”
A moment later, Sean said, “Now open them.”
There he stood before the seated Grant. He now wore black slacks and an untucked white shirt with a black bow tie. And atop his head was a ridiculous black top hat like Lincoln going to a play. Grant let out unrestrained laughter. “What the fuck …?”
Sean clicked a button before tossing the remote on the couch. A second later, the quadrophonic sound system burst alive with the voice of Joe Cocker singing ‘You Can Leave Your Hat On’ and Sean began a lurid dance. He bumped and ground his hips. He swayed and spun and twerked his ass. He winked and raised and lowered the hat in time atop his head.
One by one the buttons of Sean’s shirt surrendered and his smooth chest was bared. Grant laughed lustily at the sexy, silly sight. He clapped and wolf-whistled. Then with a yank, Sean whipped the shirt free and flung it over Grant’s head. The bow tie remained.
“OOH, take it off, Babe. Take it all off.”
Sean pranced just out of reach. “You wanna see it, Big Boy? You wanna see what I got.”
“Hell yeah, Babe, show me what you got.” Grant whistled.
At that, Sean grabbed the front of his pants with both hands and yanked. They tore away revealing a glossy G-string beneath. With hands clasped behind his head, Sean swayed his hips weaving his satin ensconced junk before Grant’s fevered eyes. His lover hooted and hollered and stomped so hard the pictures rattled.
Sean spun. The orbs of his ass were plump and jounced as he did a lurid hoochy-coo. Ten years removed from being a femboy porn star, his body was every bit as ripe and delectable, unblemished and smooth. He spun again. His face was at the peak of its beauty as he pursed his lips, his tongue peeking out. He was a mouthwatering hunk of man.
Cocker sang:
Baby, take off your dress,
yes, yes, yes,
But you can leave your hat on.
Sean’s strip tease morphed into a lap dance. He swatted Grant’s hands away.
“No touching the merchandise,” he said sternly.
He undulated against his defenseless lover. He blandished his flesh against Grant’s face over and over: chest to navel, chest to waist, chest to crotch. He insinuated his scantily sheathed cock against Grant’s drooling lips.
He spun and waggled his voluptuous ass over Grant’s crotch. Sean felt a definite rising. “Uh-oh! Feel that? Feels like your little soldier is ready to put up a fight.”
They were both laughing as Sean spun again and straddled Grant’s lap. Sean’s arms circled his neck as he peered deep into Grant’s eyes. They kissed with eyes open. Crocker sang:
You give me reason to live,
You give me reason to live,
Sweet Darlin’
Just leave your hat on.
Grant’s hard cock pressed against his lover. Sean reached back and freed his Grant’s manhood, then pulled his g-string aside.
“I’m all lubed up and ready for my Man.”
“Just leave your hat on, Babe.”
Their laughter turned to a harmony of moans as Sean took Grant into his cloying confines. The chair creaked.
“We’re gonna smash this chair to kindling,” Grant said.
“Let’s do it,” Sean replied as he began to ride his lover’s wonderful hardness with a pole-dancer’s vigor.
Grant cried out “I love you, Babe.”
“I love you more.”