Ebony and Ivory
by Katharina

What was he doing here? The tall darkskinned man standing on the stairs leading down into the basement was overlooking the crowd that was moving and swaying to the sound of the latest hit song - the german speaking guy, falcon or something... It was not his kind of entertainment - but then he did no longer know what his kind of entertainment was. A few weeks ago he would not have gone to this kind of club, its clientel solely male, the lights dim to give some privacy, booths with curtains - some closed, some open - a stark gray in contrast to the black floor and the red walls. The long bar was all shining metal and black polish, and there were no seats left. He felt out of place all of a sudden, in his dark suit and white shirt, not realizing that not only did his outfit match the interior of the club, his whole posture drew a lot of eyes as he was still reconsidering leaving.

Without him even noticing it, one young man in particular watched him - very closely. Sitting at the bar, the young man hid behind a glass of beer, his hazel eyes intent on the tall african-american who seemed to work out regularly. God, he looked so tense - he hoped he would make up his mind and come down the stairs.

The door in his back swung open and two more men were coming in with a swoosh of cold night air. "Mmmh, you look good, Big, but you're a little, well, big as a doorstop." The teasing was gentle and a hand was ghosting over his backside, while the two men squeezed around him and joined the dancers. He shuddered at the too brief contact, helpless as his body joyfully responded to the touch. He was frightened - frightened at how easily his whole being seemed to lean towards the small gesture that had not even been overt or overly deliberate. Sweat was forming on his upper lip - when he had been with his last girlfriend he had not gotten that hot in that short a time. It seemed to be inevitable. He took another step down the stairs.

Yes... the tall black man was coming downstairs, a nervous hand smoothing closecropped hair. Skittish, though at least ten, twelve years older than himself. Settled. Having a decent, judging from his clothes, even a prestigious job. Maybe being in charge... Maybe just right now discovering what he himself had known all his life, even though he did not yet have a job, a life, not even friends, as he had come into town a few weeks ago. He smiled behind his dewey glass of beer, his hazel eyes suddenly sparkling with laughter and hunger and something else he did not want to acknowledge right now. With unsteady fingers he raked through the shock of full, short hair that made him look even younger, unconsciously imitating the other man's gesture. How would it feel to make this strong, tall man surrender to passion? To conquer him and show him things he had not known until now? To make him spread his legs for him. His cock hung heavy between his thighs. Now to find a way to attract this man's attention.

He had to make sure, had to know. So the black man finally took a deeper breath than necessary and took the last step down, made it his first step into the room, the black floor inviting. He went over to the bar, suddenly in need of a drink and like magic the crowd parted and a small space next to a young man cleared - young, very young - probably too young, but handsome, brash, hazel eyes, dark hair and long dark lashes adding to the latino appearance; And then the young man looked at him and smiled and the smile lit up the room, blocked out his inquiring mind that had supplied all kinds of information with the newly aquired skill his job required and almost blinded him with its stunning brilliance.

"Hi", he ordered a lager when the waiter looked at him, appreciation in his eyes. Turning to the young man in the pair of dark gray slacks and a lightblue sweater that brought out his youngish features, he forced himself to smile, too: "I am..."

"Shhhh", the young man winked at him, still smiling, "no names, Coffee. No need to complicate things." His smile was daring all of a sudden, an invitation, a promise.

For a moment it seemed that the tall african-american was shying away but then he pursed his lips and grabbed his glass like a lifeline: "To ... discoveries, then, Hazeleyes." His nasale dark voice was steady, and he was actually impressed by his fast thinking, his little toast more original than anything he had thought of at home - or on his way over here. He saw the spark in the smaller man's eyes and smiled genuinly for the first time. "So", he drank, then looked at the provocative young man, "are you a regular in this club?" He only wanted to make some conversation, like he used to with his girlfriends. But the boy, suddenly defiant, looked at him from under suddenly heavy lashes:

"I come here whenever I am looking for some fun - just like you. How about you join me over there." His head pointed to one of the booths and the tall man was glad for his dark complexion, feeling the heat burn under his skin.

"Just like that?"

"Just for that ... you want it, so much, Coffee. And so do I!"

"Aren't you a bit too young to know what you are talking about?"

"Aren't you a bit too old not to know what I am talking about? Let me show you..." It sounded so alluring, like a siren's song of passion. He looked over to the booth, still unoccupied. The young man caught the small movement and smiled, almost encouragingly, full of understanding: "Let's go." The young man stood and went over, not looking back, not turning. But when he stepped into the booth and put the glass down onto the black table, the other man's glass was put down next to his. With deliberate gestures he pulled the curtains close, the dim glow of a fluorescent panel in the wall the only light in the cosy private cubicle.

They sat down next to each other, and all of a sudden he was afraid again, because now it was going to happen - it - something, even though he was not quite sure what that would be - some groping maybe, some kissing. Nothing more, they were somewhere public, weren't they? And then the fascinating young man leaned over and kissed him, demandingly, overwhelming him with knowledge and need. For a moment his eyes were bulging but then a tongue was shoved into his mouth, and strong hands were kneeding his shoulders and neck. He sighed, deliberately relaxing his tense muscles - he had wanted this, after all. He had come to this club just for this, hadn't he? Opening his mouth a little more, he heard the needy moan of the handsome stranger and the kick of being there, being kissed by someone he did not know but who knew exactly what he was doing hit him, fueled his own need and made him feel his cock grow heavy with anticipation.

"Hazeleyes..." he murmured when the young man broke their kiss - so young and already so knowing. He was suddenly jealous of how easily this boy was dealing with his sexuality. He almost missed the nimble fingers that were unbuttoning his shirt, opening his pants.

"God, Coffee..." appreciation made his voice thick with a lilting accent as he stroked through tightly curled hairs on the tall man's chest. The dark aureoles of his nipples tightened at his soft touch and the man arched into his caress. God, to think that he had not known about these pleasures until now... he had not denied the fact before. His nimble fingers found the fly of the tall man's pants and grabbed the already half hard member waiting there for him.

"No, Hazeleyes - we're in public,..."

"No one is going to take notice - unless you scream of course..." and before there could be a reply, the young man smiled, once again the brash brat he probably was, and slipped out of his seat, kneeling down between the tall man's thighs, grasping the pants and shoved them down, meeting no resistance from the stunned man who seemed torn between his need and his fear of discovery. Need won when Hazeleyes kissed the halfhard cock and swallowed it whole, starting a steady, gentle rhythm of sucking, of push and shove. When he looked up through his long lashes he saw that Coffee had stuffed his hand into his mouth, desperately trying to stifle his moans. Too soon the young man felt the dick in his mouth harden even more, a hoarse bellow his only warning before warmth flooded his mouth and he swallowed the tangy cream. With a wicked grin he let a little bit of cum slip out from his lips, just enough to wet one of his fingers that had been pumping the hard organ. Using his other hand to grab the base of the still hard cock he teasingly searched for the prize with his slicked finger, while barely caressing the now very sensitive dick with his tongue.

"God, Hazeleyes, thank you, that was..," but he was not finished yet. His fingertip was brushing over the tiny hole now, spreading cum and spit over it - delightedly he felt the shiver in the darkskinned man's thighs, so powerful, yet spread wide to give him access. Coffee - he was so ready and yet did not know just how ready he was. Gently he pushed - and breached the tight ring with one finger. Slipping in and out he revelled in the rich moan of the black man, feeding on the power he felt when the cock in his mouth hardened once more. This time it took longer, until Coffee was aroused again, hard and leaking. Then he took the time to open his pants, freeing his own penis that was demanding his attention. In his pants pocket he found lube, opening it onehanded, squirting most of it everywhere but on himself, until he was able to slip two fingers into the tight, thight sheath. The black man jerked, squirmed away, then when he did not stop sucking the hard, leaking cock in his mouth, slowly relaxed again.

When the strong muscles in the tall man's stomach stopped fluttering in panic, the young kneeling man started pumping his fingers in and out of the chute until the last bit of resistance gave way and more moans were drifting down. Hazel eyes were shining in the dim light when the young man made up his mind. Tenderly he released the hard cock, licking off a drop of precum, pumping twice more for good measure, then slipping his fingers out of the tight sheath. Sitting up he rustled with some foil wrap then sighed. But when the black man opened his eyes he was already leaning closer, slightly flushed, his lips glistening, his smile suddenly dangerous:

"Do you want to know what you taste like?" The brash young man did not wait for an answer though, lips already seeking out the swollen lips the older man had been biting in passion, sharing the tangy taste, the sharp flavor of passion with Coffee.

The black man did not know if he liked the taste he was given by the other man's mouth, but his arousal did not know any doubts. His dick was aching as it was pressed against his stomach by the young man's body, the sweater oddly rough-soft to the sensitive organ. And then there were those fingers again, pressing inside his body - and he was terrified because they were in public after all, and it was no fingers, because the pressure continued even further, and something - another man's dick - another - man's - dick! - was sliding inside him and there was a brief pain that seemed to rip him apart while the man with the hazel eyes was holding him down with unexpected strength, pressing him into the leather seat while kissing him furiously, panting and ravishing his mouth while holding his thighs apart. And then he started to move. Move - inside - him.

The hazel eyes were half closed when he broke his kiss, leaning back to watch what he was doing, taking in the prone body of the black man so much taller than he was, the splayed open thighs, with the pants dangling from one foot. And the hard long white cock that slipped in and out of the tight black hole, letting himself be gripped by the muscles there, taking all the pleasure Coffee could give him. When his slick, pale fingers gripped the proud black cock standing at attention between them the black man moaned, almost desperate that there was so much pleasure in that simple gesture. He pumped in time with his thrusts, finally - by luck only - finding the pleasure spot deep inside the sheath he was fucking, only knowing that he had found it because Coffee was huffing in surprise, his dick suddenly jerking in his grip.

Again he grinned that knowing, bratty smile, moaning: "You will come back for this, won't you? You're going to want my white meat up your black ass..."

The black man shuddered, moaning - he wanted this, indeed, needed it, did not care where he was or why. Just one more thing before he would give up his last shred of whatever and explode again: "I'll come back for more - if you'll give me your name..." There was a pause, it took so long, he almost thought he would not get an answer.

But then, between two thrusts more forceful than before the brat looked into his face, smiling and said: "When you come... call me Bri." And he shoved in once more, filling him, opening him, sending a lightning jolt of utter pleasure through his veins and his dick jerked, helpless in the grip of Bri's fist and he came, "Bri!" muffled with the back of his own hand as he spasmed in passion. He felt the hard intruder deep within himself jerk, saw the young man tense and ram in once more and then it was over, the movement stilled, the slick cock finally slipping out of his ass, leaving a burning ache that would remind him of what he had done. There was no way denying what he had done with that sweet pain so evident.

Bri had slipped out, discarded the condom. The black man was still splayed open, his hole loose now and red - he would be sore tomorrow. For a moment the young man considered having him again, his cock not too spent for another round. But then the noises from the next booth drifted into their privacy, and he moved back, buttoning his slacks, then, gently, helping Coffee do the same.

The black man was almost shy now, as if embarrassed by the passion he had shown, clearly unnerved by his surroundings. He did not dare to reach out to the younger man, did not dare to call him by his name, now that their passion was a thing of the past. He had dressed again, swiped away his semen from his shirt with a napkin, and had sipped the rest of his now stale, warm beer. He wanted to talk, yet there was nothing to say. He was almost grateful when the young stranger - his first lover, the pain in his ass reminded him - gently touched his cheek with a hand that still smelled like the lube he had been using on him and grinned:

"Till next time, Coffee..." and then he was gone, the swift swirl of the black curtain and the fire in his ass the only indication that he had not been in the booth alone...

++++

Two months. It took him two months. Then the tall black man was no longer able to deny himself the memories. Two months, in which he had been doing his job, nice, clean and tidy, and went to evening school every night except Saturday and Sunday, trying to exhaust himself enough to keep from dreaming. Two months, in which he had dreamed about it every night, waking up sweating and hard - or sweating and spent, his sheets a slick, wet mess. So - feeling a little defeated even though he had scored high at his last test, had managed to get into officer's training that way - he locked the uniform away that night and dressed casually after showering. His cock was already hard, the slacks doing nothing to hide his need.

The club was still there in the basement of the old, soundproved house in the city. This time there was a bully guarding the door, but one look at the tall, good looking black man opened the gates to the club. It was just as he remembered it, the stairs a little dangerous to find in the darkness, the lights dim to give some privacy. When he reached the crowded dancefloor he found that lots of the men moving to the music were giving him looks - it made him feel uncomfortable and he was about to turn and leave again, against the will of his enthusiastic dick that made him sway his hips in blatant invitation.

But then a young man was standing in front of him, smiling eagerly, hazel eyes daring him to stay. "Coffee - have a lager..." and he held out a cold glass of beer, a welcome-gift for the tall black man.

He swallowed: "Bri...", his throat suddenly dry and his heart's thumping more powerful in his ears than the music.

"I knew you would come back for more, Coffee." He sounded knowing and the tall african american felt vulnerable and predictable under the young man's scrutiny, not sure all of a sudden if he really wanted to do ... whatever he had come to the club for.

"Follow me..." And like a good boy he followed the young man, taking in the backside of smooth, worn jeans and an expensive silk shirt that clung to the muscled shoulders almost like second skin - he found he had no resistance to Bri's demands.

It ended in a booth much like the one they had used the last time, behind closed curtains. No longer caring that they were in a public place, their only shield a piece of dark cloth, he watched a single drop of condensation slowly run down the cold glass of beer, as it took turns and gathered speed until it joined the small puddle forming on the black table, while this incredibly young man was sucking his cock enthusiastically, making him moan and sigh as he worked his hard, long dick until the pleasure was too much for him and he started to pump his hips, forcing more of his meat into Bri's eager mouth. He gave himself over to the pleasure of taking the young man's mouth, to control what he was doing and he came, his come almost choking the kneeling man. Leisurly, sated, he leaned back into the leather seat, enjoying the tender touches that cleaned his deflating cock, too tired to respond to the tugging at this trousers.

And then Bri was reaching for his face, kissing him, forcing his tongue into his unresisting mouth, once again sharing the taste of his own cum with him. Growling in pleasure the black man embraced his young toy, for once in control. The pressure against his ass was just a minor distraction from the voracious kiss - and then Bri was pushing forward, claiming him, writhing in his embrace and forcing his cock into his tight chute. It was no different to their first time - to his first time. He was not in control - never had been since he had entered the club - and he loved to take it up his ass, to be opened and filled with this man's cock. "Bri, no..." he sighed, almost too low to be heard and immediately the young man stopped, his eyes intent on the black man's face.

"I can stop if you really want me to. I don't want to force you..."

Bri's hard dick was still in his ass, not moving, waiting for him to make up his mind and his body made the decision for him, his hips already moving, he fucked himself on the long dick, to feel again, to get hard again, and he almost sobbed when the brash young man grinned and joined their dance, pushing forward again while reaching for the black cock that was already halfhard again. "Yeah, you want that, god, such a beauty, a cut beauty, you have here." The black piece of meat was drooling now, jerking and quivering in slick fingers as he was splayed open by the young man's cock that reached deep inside, touching him there - right there - THERE! And he screamed into the kiss, as his orgasm slammed into him, forcing cum out of his dick in jets.

The cock in his ass jerked too, being grabbed by his chute, and he watched Bri bite into the lips that had been silencing him with a kiss as he had come.

Bri's cum filled the reservoir of the condom but his member stayed hard, and he kept moving desperately, still hungry for the black man under him. Leaning closer he licked away the drop of blood he had caused with his bite, its coppery tang causing so much arousal that he was shocked by its intensity. The black man finally opened his eyes, a little surprised at the passion that still drove on his lover, and shifted, but Bri held the tall man still, pounding into the willing chute until he came a second time, less violent but as satisfying as before. Carefully he slipped out, mindful of the condom, glad when he saw it was not broken. With shaking fingers the young man, still flushed, already smiling his smug grin again, fished for a handkerchief to clean the black man's cock, then helped him getting dressed again, before he slumped back into the booth, his pants still open, his shriveling cock hanging out. Still breathing hard, he muttered: "God, Coffee, what you do to me", then drank his beer and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"What I do to you?" The african-american huffed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his right hand. "I can't believe I did it again. I have a lot to lose."

Bri glanced at him, suddenly very intent, while he slowly, provocatively stuffed his private parts back into his slacks. "You are ... military, then?" he guessed, actually seeming to be interested.

After the briefest of hesitation the tall man nodded: "Yes. What do you do for a living?" The young man had caught on the hesitation, but took what was probably a lie in stride. He shrugged, disinterested again:

"A lot of things. Modeling, sometimes." It was part of the truth - he had posed for some photographers, but was now working two shifts at a warehouse, hauling crates during the day to be able to afford school and living in general.

"Yeah, thought so - guess I'll see you on a billboard soon." Again the young man shrugged carelessly as he got up and squeezed out of the booth, brushing against the black man on his way out.

"Maybe, maybe not. He, gotta go - have a long day tomorrow." He had to learn for a test; "guess, I might see you again, hu?" And then he was out without waiting for an answer, suddenly feeling too vulnerable to deal with a possible rejection. But the tall black man just shifted in his seat, alone all of a sudden, as he whispered: "yeah, guess so..."

++++

This time it took him only one month until he could not bare it any longer. And so he squared his shoulders and went, and it was as if Bri had indeed been there at the club all the time, or maybe waiting for him, and they found a booth and he let himself be fucked again, hard this time, punishing, and oh, so satisfying when he exploded while Bri was pounding into him. This time though, the young man did not come while he was fucking his ass. He pulled out still hard, his cut cock drooling and almost purple with need as he got rid of the condom, then straddled the black man, holding the slack, sated face in his hands.

Gently petting the short black curls, he panted with an almost feral smile, "how 'bout we try something different?" His grip on the black man's face grew more forceful, his pale fingers on the ebony colored skin a beautiful contrast. There was no refusal in the large, a little anxious eyes, so Bri leaned closer, his cock hard and hot, demanding attention.

The black man took a deep breath, smelling arousal and precum and opened his mouth to lick his lips. The cock that touched his lips was different than he had expected - warm and alive the hard flesh pulsed as it was shoved into his mouth, tasting like sweat and earthy essence and musk.

"Man, you feel good." Bri's voice had dropped an octave, as he leisurly, gently fucked the other man's mouth. "Now, suck it, Coffee. Suck it and make me feel good, too." There was a small chuckle in the voice, and that enticing accent again, but the black man was too occupied to notice.

Sucking the treat, licking over the head like he would eat an icecone, he tried to make it good for the young man, his saliva wetting the iron hard cock until his spit escaped his lips and dribbled down his chin. At first it was easy, the dick - the first dick he was sucking - only gently pumping in and out, giving him the illusion of being the one in control. Then the movements became more ragged, less coordinated, the grip on his face tighter as the hard organ shoved deeper with each forward motion. And then all of a sudden Bri gasped and shuddered and rammed in, no longer careful at all.

His mouth was used, forced to take it all, his nose suddenly pressed against the curly bush of Bri's pubic hair, and still the young man pumped his hips, coming, coming hard, shooting down his throat, and he swallowed, no longer able to breathe, swallowed what was offered, desperately trying to keep from biting, swallowed while the grip on his face relaxed and the hard cock finally started to soften in his mouth.

"Next time", Bri's voice was rough with passion, "we should get a room..." And then the young man was standing up, tugging away his lax penis, casually smoothing his clothes.

The black man coughed, his mouth still sore from being stretched, his taste somewhat off from his first undiluted drink of cum, as he brushed his hands over his face, his fingers coming away wet with sweat, spit and semen. "We could, yes. I am Simon, by the way." And he glanced at Bri almost afraid of the the young man's reaction to his indiscretion.

"Simon, the soldier, eh?" he clearly did not believe him, but was willing to go with the lie, too sated to care. "Guess I like Coffee better." With a last lazy caress Bri left the booth, too fast to see the black man's attempt at holding him back.

++++

Three days - and Simon was back for more. But this time no young Bri was waiting for him and he got bored by the glances and come-ons and the too expensive drinks. On the weekend then. Maybe Bri came only on weekend nights. But a fourtnight passed until he his persistance was rewarded.

He saw Bri standing at the bar in the dim light, tight jeans, the shirt an expensive copy of a japanese designer, and his heart beat faster. Casually he moved closer, until he was standing right behind the brash young man, dropping his arm around strong shoulders in a proprietory way. Bri startled, then recognized him with a brilliant smile before composing himself again. "Si... Coffee!"

Grinning, Simon ordered his usual lager: "Missed your accent the last two weeks." And, funny, now that he had mentioned it, the accent seemed to have vanished when the young man answered:

"Had to do stuff, Coffee. Don't tell me you were looking for me."

"I wanted to take you up on your promise. The room, remember? Or are you not man enough to play where we have some time at hand?" He aimed for taunting, but could not keep the begging out of his voice. - And he hated himself for that. The smile on Bri's lips told him that he had been seen through - shocked he realized he did not care. Bri turned to the bartender, "the keys, please" and the bartender, all winks and smiles and eagerness handed over a small silver key on a chain:

"Now, that's a first, kid - and with that buff drink of chocolate, too? Mymy, need some help?" But Bri just grinned, his hand claiming a place on the black man's ass:

"Not really, nah." But all that Simon had heard was: that's a first and he was oddly glad about that. So with less apprehension he followed the brash young man to the back, into a dark, private hallway with a lot of private rooms. The key fit the lock of the last one, a small guest room with a separate aircondition, a tiny bathroom, and a large bed stacked with neatly folded sheets on a bare mattress, a large comforter neatly folded lying on top. It took them just moments to slip over the clean covers. And then there was this awkward moment that torments everybody who is about to spend the night with a new lover, when passion has not yet lowered inhibitions and neither person knows what to say or how to start. Bri was the one to break the tension.

"Undress," he ordered calmly and - used to following orders that were justified - Simon did just that, soon standing naked, in all his ebony glory, muscles and hard flesh rippling, gleaming in the soft light, his nipples tightening in anticipation surrounded by tight curls of chesthair, peppered over broad pecs, his arms akimbo, his legs slightly apart, almost at parade rest. The black man heard the soft sigh of appreciation, saw the aborted move Bri made towards him, then watched as the brash young man slowly fumbled for the hidden buttons on his silk shirt.

The smooth fabric slipped off shoulders broader than he would have thought, revealing a pale chest with two surprisingly dark aureoles and a perfect triangle of little soft-looking chesthair, arrowing down to the bellybutton, getting coarser there where it vanished behind the fly Bri had just been unbuttoning. Now the young man reached inside his pants, teasingly stroking up and down twice, three times, before he finally pushed them over his slim hips, stepping out of them and his underwear at the same time. His eager cock was already flushed, engorged, lifting from the heavy sac as he pulled off shoes and socks, then stepped closer to the black statue that had been watching him.

"Lie down on the bed." And once again Simon obeyed, sinking back into the pillows, grabbing his dick that had grown hard during the strip Bri had performed, but the young man shook his head and tsked: "That is my job..." as he joined him on the mattress, gently taking both Simon's arms in his hands, spreading them wide, while holding them down, the movement forcing him to lie on top of the large black man, his whole body caressing the suddenly panting black man. Kissing and licking his way from the passionate lips to the strong neck, over the broad shoulders to the hard peaks that were Simon's aching nipples he made the stern man moan and shiver. Small love bites left no trace as he nibbled down to the fluttering stomach, until he finally swallowed the hard, drooling cock. Sucking forcefully he was surprised at how fast Simon, arms still caught in Bri's hands, could hold back no longer, and came down his throat. Using cum and spit, he lavished the balls and slowly aroused the black man again, teasingly licking over the most private part of the still moaning man, his tongue only swiping over the puckered opening, never penetrating.

Then, finally, he knelt up between Simon's spread thighs, condom and lube ready. "Want you tight and needy tonight. Turn around, Coffee."

A little awkward, careful not to shove off Bri with his legs in the process, Simon turned onto his belly, gratefully accepting the pillow the young man stuffed under him to give his halfhard dick some room, then raised his left leg, knowing that the move would open the crack of his ass.

Bri sighed, pumping his dick twice, before lining up against the pucker and unceremoniously pressing forward: "Relax, Coffee." Used to following orders now, Simon loosened his muscles while breathing out, and Bri shoved in, grunting, panting hard. "Good boy." His demanding rhythm burned through Simon, but soon the fire ignited his passion once more, too. Bri was clinging to the black man's shoulders, ramming into the tight hot sheath, delighted in the prone body that was there just to please him. He could feel the rising passion in Simon's whole being, heard the tall man's moans and sobs of pleasure until the hard body under him tightened, seized up, all muscles suddenly clenching, the scent of semen pungent in the air. "Good boy"; he muttered again, plunging deep to be part of that orgasm, part of the ripples that racked the hard, powerful body. Pressing his groin hard against clenching asscheeks he felt his own cum rising, his dick jerking helplessly, holding out one more precious moment, until it was futile, and he pushed in once more, cumming and jerking and cumming again.

When he was able to breathe again, Bri pulled out, discarding the rubber, then laid back on top of Simon, his hard, slick dick nestled in the crack of the black man's ass as he relaxed, his passion unbroken.

"You just keep going, don't ya, Bri?" The young man chuckled, his cock jumping.

"I've something else in store for you", he admitted, starting to massage the prone body under him.

"Oh yeah? Do I have to worry?"

"Don't think so - just a little toy I found." His hands worked magic on the tall man's back and his cock rubbed against Simon's ass, making Bri pant and sigh and looking forward to using the little toy he bought just today, for just that occasion.

It was good for Simon - magical fingers kneeding his back, a hard cock slipping over his buttocks, he was too lazy to even get aroused right now. And then there was a pressure against his loosened hole, a cool force slipping into his ass, breaching the tight muscle with a popping sound, then sitting tight inside him. "Wha..?"

"A buttplug and god, you look so hot..." Bri was shivering with excitement, while Simon tried to shift without jostling the hard plastic in his ass, its pressure not as big as the younger man's cock but different, more unyielding, a reminder of what they had done, of what they would do again. "God, stay like that for now, Coffee." And Simon turned his head to look over his shoulder, just to see a very aroused, flushed young man, sweating, his shock of hair in disarray, who was jacking himself leisurly, taking in the splayed open body under him, the plug that invaded Simon's ass, the clenching asscheeks. As Simon wriggled his hips, Bri picked up speed, his free hand pressing against the plug to secure it in Simon's ass and the black man sighed into the pressure. That sigh seemed to be all that Bri needed - with a huff he surged forward and came, his cream splattering over black skin until he could not hold himself upright any longer.

Slumping down on the bed next to Simon, Bri tried to regain his breath, his hand still on the black man's nearest thigh, petting the soft soft skin. Simon growled a little, a rough, satisfied sound that sent shivers down Bri's spine, then the black man said: "So, can I pluck out the plug?" But Bri would not have any of those.

"Do you need to? Why not leave it in a while? You don't have to run right now, do you?" The last sentence was merely a whisper and Simon bit back his first, kneejerk response to say something like you were always the one to run up until now, but smiled, "No, I could stay here a while."

"Good..." Bri found a tissue and cleaned Simon's back, then spread the comforter over them both, barely able to hold his eyes open. Curling into himself, the young man fell asleep almost instantly.

Simon shifted, the intruder in his ass no longer uncomfortable, but a constant reminder nevertheless, and found he had snuggled closer to the young man who had not really told him anything about himself or his life. He shook his head - why should the young man even tell him anything: They had met a few times, and always in the anonymity of the gay club. He knew that he had been exclusive in this weird affair, his excursions to the club too much of a risk already, but he guessed that Bri, if that really was the young rascal's name, was probably not that prudent. He felt a little jealousy at the thought of all the nameless, faceless men Bri probably had wrapped around his little finger with his undeniable skills.

He shuddered at an unwelcome thought: The risk they had taken ... healthwise - then he realized, no, Bri had always used a condom, never overly endangered their health - to think that he had not spared one thought about such important issues before...

Bri shifted a little, his breath even and strong, and Simon reached out tentatively, finally gathering the young man closer, pressing his chest against the smooth back of the sleeping man. This night, this man was in his arms, no longer running. Maybe they could meet somewhere else, soon... The pliant body in his arms was warm and alive, the skin soft and creamy despite a subtle tan, almost white in contrast to the heavy chocolate color of his own skin. Coffee - he grinned at the nickname. The smile was still on his lips when he fell asleep.

Simon woke, because Bri shifted again, the movement bringing the young man's ass against his hard cock. He remembered his dream: that he was sleeping with this sprite, and softly, gently making sweet love to him. No wonder his body had reacted to the suggestions of his subconscious. No wonder his body still reacted, his groin pushing against the small of Bri's back, his dick rubbing against the soft skin there. With gentle fingers he caressed the sleeping young man, hand sneaking to the front, finding a halfhard cock that was almost jumping when he first touched it. Bri moaned in his sleep, but did not wake. Simon smiled - this was fun. Carefully, silently he fished around on the mattress until he found lube and a rubber, and slicked his hand, pumping the suddenly eager cock of the sleeping man. God, he had never actually fucked - made love - to another person that way, did not know how to find, or if it was too small, because he was too big...

Very cautiously he let go of the drooling dick, his fingers rubbing into the crease of Bri's ass, finally touching the tight little opening for the first time. So tiny! He would never fit... he pushed with his finger, almost startled when it sank in, sheathed by the hot tight channel, instinctively starting to pump in and out, his cock aching with the need to be the one held in the tight grip. Tight - too tight, maybe. Simon used a second finger, as surprised as before when the muscle gave way and let him in.

Bri's breath picked up a little, the young man was slowly floating through layers of sleep, gradually waking up to the most wonderful wet dream ever. His cock was hard and drooling and something in his ass made him squirm and beg for more. "Yeah..." he sighed, wanting to encourage whatever was going to happen.

The sigh, the softly breathed word - it made Simon more aroused than he had ever thought he could get. His fingers were up another man's - no, this man's ass, and he was the stimulance Bri needed. So hot - he realized he had said the words aloud. And then, all of a sudden, the pliant young man in his arms stiffened, suddenly tense:

"Wha... what's happening??" There was almost panic in the young voice and Simon stilled immediately, making gentle soothing noises.

"Only me, Bri, only me...thought I could return the favor. Not if you don't want to, though." Bri shuddered, exhaling loudly.

"Simon, you startled me." Then, moving his hips and obviously liking the feel of Simon's fingers in there, he muttered: "Let's try... but... be careful." And to Simon it even sounded a little nervous.

So the tall black man took his time, slowly pumping and working the tiny hole, until his own need was too overwhelming. Condom already in place he slicked his large cock, then, with a small kiss to Bri's relaxed neck, he lined up and pushed inside. It was fire. It was rippling, gripping fire and it burnt him from inside. He moaned, holding still when Bri's breathing hitched, and desperately repeated his last lectures in his mind to keep from coming on the spot. But Bri seemed to be in serious discomfort, so he concentrated on the young man's needs, grabbing Bri's flagging cock and pumped it to hardness again. He waited until Bri was panting, writhing against him once more, then finally pulled his dick out, then shoved inside the hot sheath again. It was so good, so utterly good - Simon broke into a sweat, licking at Bri's skin whereever his mouth could reach, holding the young man tight, moving, pumping, his muscles straining and yet not able to stop the passionate dance. And then Bri was reaching down, grabbing the hand that still pumped his cock, and showed Simon exactly how to play with his dick. He had to have been close, too, because after only a few strokes, Bri roared "Simon!" and bit the pillow and all but exploded in Simon's hand, his whole body shuddering and pulsing, his ass gripping the cock that was now slamming in faster and faster until, Simon, too, fell over the precipice. He yelled as he came, the plug in his butt a hard, noticable intruder, and yet enhancing the pleasure until it was almost unbearable.

A long time later, the condom discarded, and both men cleaned up a little, Simon tried his luck. "Bri, how about we, you know, meet somewhere else, sometimes. Maybe next weekend? For, I dunno, dinner?"

The man in his arms stilled, suddenly apprehensive. "I ... don't think so, Coffee. Sorry."

"Oh,.." there was a small pause, then Simon added: "it's because I am black? Funny, I never pictured you KKK."

Bri's laugh was a snort, a small, not unkind chuckle: "Don't be ridiculous, Coffee. It's just cuz I leave town. All the drudgery finally paid off - literally. I've been accepted for training over in Seattle and I even can afford it. If I make it, I'll stay." The young man had obviously made up his mind, was determined to follow his mapped out plan on life. And he still did not elaborate any details.

Simon sighed. So that was that, then. "I see. Well, good luck. I'll, guess I won't be coming back to the club then. Not worth the risk." For a moment Bri was quiet, then said quietly:

"You were worth the risk."

"You too, Bri."

They did not fall asleep again, the small windowless room a peaceful shelter. Finally in the early hours of morning Bri leaned over and gently removed the plug from Simon's ass. "You can keep it, if you want. I don't need it."

"Sore? Didn't you like it when I ... did it to you." The tall black man hesitated, but Bri smiled, not the brash grin that was his trademark, but a somber smile that reached his eyes.

"No, it's just, you were my first and I don't intend to offer myself casually." Simon's mouth fell open and he missed Bri getting dressed, scrambling out of bed to catch up, almost leaving the small plug on the nightstand.

"So ... that's it then."

"Yeah, take care, Simon the soldier."

"Take care, Bri Hazeleyes."

He was already sitting in his car, when he realized that Bri still assumed he was a soldier, because he never had corrected the fact, never had told the young man he was a cop instead. Oh, well. Sighing he turned the ignition - he did not even know the young man's full name.

++++

Twelve Years Later

++++

Captain Banks was sitting in his office, a cup of vanilla flavored coffee in his hand that unfortunately did nothing to help ease the headache he was sporting. It was ironic: Despite the fact that he was African american he had made it to captaincy but he had not been able to deal with his private life. In front of him were the letter of his divorced wife telling him that his small son was going to summer camp this year and two pictures of the boy. He would not be able to spend any time with Darryl this summer and that was his ersatz; he snorted, then looked up at the soft knock on his open door.

"Ellison, what's up? I thought you were already on your way to enjoy some time off ?"

The star detective with the stunning blue eyes scrunched his face in mock exasperation. "Sandburg plans on doing some testing." He referred to the weird condition of his senses and to the young anthropologist who seemed to know how to cope with them. Banks shook his head, chuckling dryly. When he accepted the job as captain of Major Crimes in Cascade some years ago he would not have dreamed of having to deal with a detective who was someone who could spy on you from miles away. He was great on the job, though.

"So, take it like a man, Ellison."

"Actually, Sir", and the detective sounded uncharactaristically respectful, "I wanted to ask you if there is some important case - any case in fact - you could hand me over. I don't want to ..." And that sounded definitely whiney.

Banks grinned and seemed to think it over. Finally he said: "You know, the only thing that's coming up is that new detective and you already opted that he was assigned to H Brown. You go vacationing. Have fun. Enjoy. Don't kill Sandburg. Out now." With slumped shoulders the tall detective turned and drudged out where Sandburg - the department's 'observer' who kept Ellison in line - was already waiting. The young man was bouncing in place, already impatient to leave, and Ellison smiled against his will, as the grad-student put his hand against the small of the detective's back to shove him out of the department. They looked like an old couple, Banks mused. Maybe they would catch the clue bus during this vacation in the wilderness.

Determined the Captain threw the letter away and carefully stacked the pictures into the folder he kept in his desk for just that purpose. Another knock at his door had him asking without looking up at first: "Ellison, forgot something?"

"Actually..." The voice was oddly familiar although definitely not Ellison's and Captain Banks' head came up startled. A goodlooking young man in an expensive three-piece was standing there in the open door, dark eyes frowning for a moment, his hand raking through his shock of dark hair nervously. "Actually... no. I am Detective Brian Rafe, reporting for duty, Sir."

Brian Rafe... Brian... Bri - good God, Banks thought with a feeling of dread, did his past come haunting him or what. How long had it been? Ten years, twelve...? He swallowed, aiming for nonchalance: "Detective Rafe, you came in from... " He knew that the young man had been transferred from outside but could for the life of it not remember where from.

"Seattle, Sir." The young man was still standing in front of Banks' desk at parade rest, elaborating when the Captain did not ask further questions. "But I was living in Cascade until I got accepted at the academy in Seattle. Wanted to come back home as soon as I turned Detective." Wanted to find what I was missing over there, but he did not say that of course. Had he known that his Simon, the only man ever topping him, was Captain over here he might not have tried to apply for this position. Right now he thought about running out of this office or just trying to merge with the floor or perhaps hitting on gorgeous Coffee who had aged well and looked terrific.

"Family ties in Cascade?" The Captain's clipped question brought Brian out of his reveries.

"No, Sir. A chance I missed - something I would like to set right if possible." It was the closest to actually hitting on the man who had become his superior all of a sudden. Holding his breath he waited for the verdict. Simon leaned forward, scrutinizing the young man - the brash kid from way back then had matured, in a way he had anticipated in long, lonely nights next to his wife, and longer even lonelier nights after his divorce. A second chance - it would be a second chance for himself, too. A chance for happiness, maybe even love. He thought he saw some of his own feelings reflected in those expressive eyes of Brian's. He decided to take the leap of faith.

"Take a seat, Rafe." Turning to the coffeemaker, he fetched a second cup, then - with almost no hesitation at all - he emphasized: "Want some coffee?" He heard the hitch in Brian's breathing and hid his smile while filling the cup, placing it in front of the new detective. There was a lot of enthusiasm in the young man's face, a brilliant smile lighting up the room.

"Do I ever! You gonna call me Hazeleyes again when we're alone?"

"Only when we are in bed together."

"I can live with that, Captain Banks."

Second chances. Sometimes they turn out better than you dared to dream.