by Lianne Burwell
Mac had his back to the closet door, slowly sliding down towards the
floor. Dobrinsky was sitting on the sofa, thinking about god only knows
what. Victor was staring at the window. He could feel the walls closing
in.
"That's it," he said abruptly, sitting up straight. "I'm getting out of
here." He lunged for the door, determined not to let anything stand in
his way. Dobrinsky jumped in front of him, easily batting off an attack
from Mac.
"I don't think so," the black man said, carefully eyeing the both of
them. For a moment it was a deadlock, nobody moving. Vic and Mac glanced
at each other, silently communicating the way only partners can.
"Sorry," Mac said as a distraction, then both he and Victor drew their
guns to aim at Dobrinsky. Unfortunately for them, he was equally fast,
and his gun in Vic's face.
"We're not really going to shoot each other," Vic said confidently.
Dobrinsky just stared back at him, expressionless. "Are we?" Suddenly he
wasn't so sure.
Dobrinsky looked to be considering it. Then he lowered his gun, slowly to
the ground, as Mac and Vic followed suit. But, no sooner had the three
guns touched the floor, the three men were all drawing their backup
weapons. This time, Dobrinsky was aiming at Mac.
"We're not kidding," Mac said, trying to sound intimidating. It didn't
help that Dobrinsky could intimidate just by breathing.
"Neither am I," Dobrinsky replied. He tried to stare both men down, but
they were starting to look a little crazed. "Okay. Got some cabin fever
here, guys. Need to relieve some of the strain." He started the 'drop the
gun' routine again, praying that neither of the other men had a second
backup piece.
This time, though, when the guns reached the floor, each man lashed out
with a fist, catching the man on their right in the jaw. All three hit
the ground. Dobrinsky pushed himself to his knees, rubbing his jaw where
he could feel a bruise already forming.
"Oh, this is better," he said, only slightly sarcastic.
"Yeah," Vic said. "That's much better."
This time, fists lashed to the left, instead, and the free-for-all had
begun.
It took half an hour for the men to start slowing down, by which point
Mac's apartment was starting to look the worse for wear. All three men
were bruised, bloodied and exhausted, but they were all still stressed.
Dobrinsky had Vic pinned to the floor, holding his wrists above his head
to prevent another punch. At that point, Mac pounced on his back, an arm
around Dobrinsky's neck, driving him down onto Vic.
All the air whooshed out of Vic's lungs, but it wasn't able to prevent a
different sort of moan. Reflexively, he arched up into the contact, then
froze. He looked up into Dobrinsky's smiling and Mac's shocked faces,
then shut his eyes with an embarrassed groan.
"Well, this is certainly interesting," Dobrinsky smirked, feeling an
erection starting to press into his stomach. He felt a throb against his
backside, and the smirk got wider. "Very interesting indeed. Certainly a
better alternative than continuing to pound at each other. With fists,
that is." Mac let go, as though he had been burned, and jumped back
several feet.
"What's the matter, Ace. Don't you believe in that method of stress
relief?" The smirk kept growing wider as Mac flushed bright red.
"Not with a guy, I don't," he said, defensively.
Vic got to his feet, adjusting his now-too-tight jeans, eyeing his
partner speculatively. "C'mon, Mac. Don't tell me you've never tried it
before." Mac was starting to look a little panicked.
"Umm..." he said, as he started to ease towards the door.
"He hasn't!" laughed Dobrinsky, easily cutting him off. Vic moved in on
his other side. "C'mon, Sport. You don't know what you're missing."
"Err..." Mac was quickly developing whiplash, trying to figure out if the
men on either side of him were serious. Unfortunately, the bulges in
their pants seemed to indicate 'Yes'. They gripped his arms and started
to pull him towards the bedroom. Vic leaned in to whisper in his ear,
reassuringly.
"Relax, Ramsey. Nobody's going to hurt you. You'll enjoy this. Trust
me."
Mac snorted, but the other two men could feel him starting to relax.
Once in the bedroom, Dobrinsky and Vic let go of him. Dobrinsky
immediately pulled Mac's sweater over his head, then started undoing the
loose khakis he was wearing. Vic prowled around the room, keeping one eye
on the other men, and opening various drawers. He gave a small whoop as
he opened the top dresser drawer.
"Well, well, well. What have we here? Lube. Condoms." He tossed the items
onto the bed, then held up the last item. "Padded handcuffs? Kinky, Mac."
Dobrinsky grabbed them. "Then again... These haven't been used." They
glanced at the nearly naked and embarrassed young man, then at the bed's
cast-iron headboard. "Yet."
"Now wait a second, guys," Mac said uneasily as he backed away from the
grinning men. Suddenly he had a bad feeling about this.
Unfortunately, Dobrinsky was too fast for him again. Mac suddenly found
himself flying through the air to land, flat on his back, on the bed.
Before he had gotten his bearings back, his hands had been cuffed
together, through the bars of the headboard.
"Hey! This isn't funny!"
"It's not supposed to be funny," Vic replied, as he pulled off his
shirt, which had already come mostly undone during the fight.
"Not funny at all," echoed Dobrinsky as he started skinning out of his
own clothes.
The expressions on their faces had gone from amused to predatory, and Mac
started to shiver. He flinched as Vic sat down next to him and started to
pull his boxers off.
"Relax, Mac. I told you, we're not going to hurt you. Just go with the
flow." He looked down at the now nude man. "Jesus. How did you make it
more than a year in a prison without doing this?"
Mac flushed further. "By being very fast with my feet and my fists. Not
many guys in prison you want to play with. You should know that."
Vic shrugged. "Too true. But this isn't going to be like that." He
reached to play with Mac's genitals, which immediately started to swell.
Mac might be unsure, but his body wasn't. Vic straddled the young man,
stroking his sides, then leaned in. "See, that's not so... ohh..."
Mac tried to see what had made Vic moan like that, but all he could see
was brief glimpses of Dobrinsky in behind Vic. Vic was starting to move
above him though, and each movement made their cocks brush together. Mac
found the sensation weird... but good.
Then Dobrinsky moved away and he heard the distinctive sound of a condom
wrapper being opened. Dobrinsky's face reappeared over Vic's shoulder,
then Vic was suddenly pressed down onto him. The play of expressions on
his partner's face was fascinating.
"What... What are you doing."
"He's fucking me," Vic groaned, squirming against Mac. 'Oh God, yes!
Harder!" The next thrust left Mac feeling like he was going to be
squished flat, but he barely noticed.
"Christ, Mansfield," Dobrinsky said. "You're tighter than a virgin. How
long has it been for you, anyway?"
"Years... before LiAnn... before prison. At the academy." Then Vic's eyes
shot open and he screamed. "Yes! There! That's it!"
Dobrinsky smiled at Mac, not losing his tempo. "I'd say I just found his
prostate. What do you think, Sport?"
Mac didn't answer he was to busy watching Vic. The older man certainly
looked like he was enjoying himself. He wondered what it felt like.
Then he remembered his position and realized that he was probably going
to find out real soon. Finally Vic started thrusting against Mac's
stomach, as fast as he could. Mac felt a warm liquid spreading across his
abs, and realized that Vic had come. Dobrinsky pulled back, and Vic
collapsed onto the bed next to Mac. Mac was sticky, and harder than he
could ever remember being in his life. Dobrinsky hadn't come yet.
He watched as the big man peeled off the condom and rolled on a fresh
one. "Well, Ramsey, what do you think? Ready to get fucked?"
Mac shifted, nervously, and heard the clink of the handcuffs. "What if I
say no?" he asked.
"Then we unlock the cuffs and you go take a shower," Vic mumbled in his
ear, sounding half-asleep. Mac looked at Dobrinsky, who smiled
reassuringly. The man looked almost human for once.
"Okay," he finally said. "What do I do?"
The twin grins that resulted from his statement forced an answering grin
from him.
"Just lie back and enjoy."
Vic curled tightly around Mac and started stroking his chest. Mac was
quickly purring under the stroking hand, making Vic laugh. "Just like a
big cat," he said, then leaned in to kiss Mac. Mac jumped a little.
Kissing was not something he had expected from this. Then he relaxed, and
started to enjoy it. Even in the middle of the afternoon, Vic's cheeks
were baby-smooth. He probably would have trouble growing a decent beard,
unlike Mac who seemed to turn blue within a couple of hours of shaving.
He was so focused on the tongue in his mouth and the fingers pinching his
nipple that he almost missed the slick finger that slid in his ass. As it
started moving in and out, he shifted a little, considered the sensation
and found it good. He pushed against the finger, to encourage it deeper.
He was drifting on the sensations when hands rolled him over onto his
side, arms still stretched above him. Vic was still kissing him, but it
was his neck that was being kissed. The light kisses next rained on his
collarbone, then drifted further south to his nipples and stomach and
finally his cock. He was so distracted by Vic's mouth that he didn't even
notice when Dobrinsky made it to three fingers. He finally noticed when
a large, hot cock nudged at his ass, at the same time as Vic's lips
closed around his cock. He didn't know which way to thrust, as Dobrinsky
pressed into him.
It hurt, but not as much as he would have expected, thanks to the barely
noticed preparations and the generous amount of lubricant that had been
used.
He probably shouldn't be enjoying it this much, but all Mac could focus
on was the cock sliding in and out of his ass, the mouth on his cock,
the tongue rimming his ear, the hands rolling his balls, the fingers
pulling his nipples. All the sensations coalesced, heat building
throughout his body, until he found himself screaming—something he had
never done while having sex.
His orgasm was so intense that he barely noticed the cock inside him
starting to spurt.
Mac woke up later, not sure how much time had passed. His hands were free
and two warm bodies were wrapped around him. He shifted slightly. His ass
ached, but it was a good ache—the way that a muscle ached after a
workout. The other two men stirred.
"So, Sport," came the rumble in his ear. The warm breath moving across
his neck made him shiver. "Did you enjoy it?"
He snorted. "Don't fish for compliments. You know I did."
"Want to get fucked again?"
"Hey! It's my turn to fuck him!"
"Get in line, Mansfield."
"You had both of us. It's our turn! Maybe Mac should fuck you."
"Umm... guys?"
"I don't think so."
"Well, maybe you don't get a choice. Those handcuffs are still handy."
Mac eyed the two men, nervously. They were out of the bed, circling each
other, like two large cats fighting over a fresh kill. Unfortunately,
he was the kill, and he wasn't too sure he liked the feeling.
By the time the first punch flew, all he could do was stay out of the
way, and hope that this would blow over before his place was completely
trashed.
Pity, though. He'd been looking forward to be fucked again.
LiAnn stared at the gaily colored sticks on the table, planning her next
move. Nicholas Love, and his stooge, Bingo, were in a psychiatric
hospital—a well guarded hospital—so no more male agents were going
to die at his orders. Personally, she could care less what happened to
the pair. Lock her in a cage, would they. Speaking of male agents,
though...
"So, I haven't seen the boys around today," she said, eyeing the Director.
The other woman picked up a couple of the sticks, carefully not moving
any of the others. "No, and I'm rather enjoying the peace and quiet."
LiAnn smirked, slightly. "Where are the boys?" she asked, picking up
several of the sticks.
"Oh, they're under Dobrinsky's watchful eyes," she replied, gleefully
picking up the remaining sticks, winning the game. "And I'm sure they're
having a wonderful time." She looked up with a leer. "What do you say
we do the same?"
LiAnn thought about it. "Just as long as you don't want to go salsa
dancing again. That mustache itched."
Agent Peters was whistling as he walked down the hallway. Twenty-four
hours locked up in a safe house with three other agents had nearly driven
him insane with boredom. By the time the call had come that it was all
right to leave the safe house, all four of them had been ready to kill
each other.
Strangely enough, though, none of the three in Ramsey's apartment were
answering the phone. In his safe house, they had all been hovering around
the phone, praying for it to ring. But, no one answered, so he had been
sent to give them the good news in person.
As he came up to the doorway, he could hear shouting, and strange
crashes. Obviously these three hadn't been able to keep from
attacking each other. Well, they should be happy after he opened the
door. Using the key that the Director had given him, he unlocked the door
and eased it open. As he poked his head in, a plate smashed against the
door. Dobrinsky and Mansfield were throwing dishes at each other, while
Ramsey tried to stop them from destroying his apartment.
Peters decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and shut the
door quickly. Let someone else go tell them that they were sprung.
The rumor mill was gonna love this one, though. The fact that the three
men were fighting wasn't a big surprise. The fact that all they were
all in the nude and sporting partial erections was.
Ramsey looked pretty hot, though. Maybe he'd see if the young man was
interested in a drink after work sometime. He whistled as he headed down
the hall, considering the possibilities.
THE END
ictor was about ready to go out of his mind. Since Nicholas Love had
started killing of the Agency's male agents, and had almost succeeded
in killing him, The Director had ordered all male agents into hiding,
while she and LiAnn tracked Love down. As a result, he was trapped in
Mac's apartment with both him and Dobrinsky. Dobrinsky was obviously
there to make sure that he and Mac stayed put, and didn't kill each
other. They had already come close, just over music choices.
April 1998
