Sharing the couch with Jim, Blair decided, is the best way to spend an evening, even if you do have to grade papers. He peeked over the top of the one in his hand, and looked over at his lover, who was sitting at the other end, reading. Periodically, Jim would stretch a long leg, using his foot to trail a caress over his partner’s calf or toy with the gold chain welded around Blair's left ankle. Mostly, he seemed absorbed in his book, and Blair used the opportunity to admire him as much as possible.

//Talk about operant conditioning,// he laughed to himself. //Grade a paper, leer for three minutes. Grade a paper, leer for three minutes. At this rate, I'll not only be done in like *no* time, but grading papers will make me horny from now on. Like I'm not, already.//

Licking his lips, he considered jumping Jim again. But, since they had finished for the second time that day before settling on the couch, Blair had his doubts Jim would be up for it so soon. He went back to his papers, rubbing under his glasses briefly, before picking up his pen.

A few minutes later, Jim shifted position, swinging both legs up onto the couch, and tucking his feet up against Blair's thigh. Absently, Blair petted them, then began running the chain on Jim's ankle through his fingers as he worked. In response, Jim's feet began to knead on the thigh under them, and Blair put down his pen and looked at his partner.

There was a ghost of a smile on the corners of Jim's lips, and Blair decided the only way to deal with a ghost was to kiss it away. Nonchalantly he arranged his papers, inching away from those distracting feet as he did. When Jim stretched, trying to re-establish contact, Blair sprang, catching him fully extended with no time to pull his legs back up.

He landed, knees on either side of Jim's hips, snatched away the novel in his hands, and planted a kiss. Jim opened his mouth in welcome, chortling deep in his chest as he did. Languorously, they dueled and teased each other's tongue, until Blair pulled away, panting, to catch his breath.

"You, James Ellison," he declared, "are a great, big, tease."

"A tease makes promises they don't intend to keep. I keep mine, Chief." Jim nipped the tip of Blair's chin, then went back after his mouth.

Dodging him, Blair wiggled his bottom more firmly into Jim's crotch. "Or that they can't keep. Seems to me, *somebody* is paying attention to their boss's promises."

"He'll pay attention, eventually," Jim muttered, still trying to capture Blair's mouth. "And if he doesn't, there's more than one way to make Blair a happy man."

Suddenly serious, Blair accepted Jim's kiss, making it fierce and deep, until Jim broke it, moaning. "Blair is a *very* happy man," Blair whispered.

"Regardless of whether the village idiot decides to co-operate?"

"Even if the village idiot never co-operates again. I have a very active imagination, thank you, that will more than help to make up the difference."

"Yeah, I remember," Jim said, huskily. "Oh, gods, do I remember."

Mood shifting again, Blair sat up, eyeing the bigger man wickedly. "As I recall," he said, pulling his shirt over his head. "You promised me you'd tell me what *you* were thinking. Now seems like a good time."

Jim laid his hands flat on Blair's chest, studying the contrast between his pale skin and the dark fur there. He rubbed lightly, letting the hairs tickle his palms, then rolled his thumbs over Blair's nipples, taking care not to pull the ring in one. "Probably won't do much for you," he admitted, reluctantly. "My fantasies tend toward the sensual, not the sexual."

Hands sliding, barely touching, Jim wandered over the familiar territory of Blair's chest and tummy, making Blair arch into the contact. "The idea here, Big Guy, is get the village idiot interested in the proceedings. If his idea of a good time is whipped cream or whips and chains, go for it."

"No, never any pain." Jim gathered Blair into his arms, and twisted until they were on their sides, Blair against the back of the couch. "Too many years in Vice to find the dark side very appealing any more, babe. I think I saw or did just about everything - and saw the price for it, too."

"Doesn't leave much for you and the idiot to work with." Blair said musingly, bringing a hand down between their bodies to stroke him.

"Mmm, memories work pretty good. Mmmm, that's nice."

Blair stopped, pinning his love with a look. "Of other people. In our bed? That is *so* not cool, man."

"Not people - places, situations. Undercover one time, I worked as a body guard for this rich, kind-hearted, old biddy of a dowager. She had a favorite nephew visit, and wanted him to have a good time, and talked me into showing him the steamier side of Washington.

"There's this sex club slash brothel that caters to the wealthy. You can get or do just about anything there, and the little pervert managed to make himself a reputation there, anyway. Reality went one way that night.

"In my head, it went differently.

"I open the door of the limo and hand in this breath-taking young man. He's wearing a tux, no tie, jewel in the collar that matches the one in his ear. Long, luscious curly hair that begs to be handled, small, slender body, tight little ass, great hands. I admire, but not touch, I'm on duty, besides, he doesn't even see me. I'm part of the limo.

"Big deal, rich people treat you like furniture all the time, but it twigs me all the same. It'd be nice to meet a looker whose interior is as nice as the exterior. I shrug it off, get in, make myself as comfortable as I can and still keep alert.

"Kid was carrying a book when he got in the car, and to my surprise, he actually opens it and starts to read. Impresses me, some. If he's going to ignore me, he at least isn't going to waste time being bored.

"We get to the club, he closes the book, sighing, and I get the impression he doesn't want to be there. He leaves the book behind, regretfully, if you ask me, goes in, me right behind him at his left.

"By the end of the evening, I definitely don't know what to make of him. Chats with everyone, flirting with all the women and flattering most of the men. Dances with anyone who asks, but never twice. Gets more offers than Studly Do-Right could take on, and politely turns them down flat. Wanders around the entire place, watching for a second here or there, cheered one couple on at one point, but didn't participate when they offered.

"Evening wears on, people are getting drunk - he's still nursing the same glass of champagne - the hits aren't so polite any more. One guy comes on strong, the kid steps behind me, kinda hiding his face on my back. I glare at the guy until he backs off, muttering. Sometime later, drunk woman lurches toward him, I get between them, checking out of the corner of my eye to make sure I read him right.

"Sees me doing it, smiles. Puts his hand on the small of my back, thanking me, I guess, goes back to circulating.

"Hand felt like fire on me. Felt it all the way to my bone, and it took its sweet time fading. Ignored it, kept following him. Not because I have to any more. I want to. This kid's like a rose in a weed patch, and I'm going to be his thorns.

"Finally he stumbles into a library, a real one with books, fire burning in the hearth, big over stuffed chairs. Only way you'd know it was housed in a brothel was a couple of sex toys lying around. He checks a couple of them out, grinning at me, like he's sharing a great joke. Finds a set of nipple clamps, joined by a chain that seem to intrigue him.

"Picks them up, bouncing them in the palm of his hand, gets distracted by the titles of the books on the shelves. Browses for a while, chooses one, starts to sit in one of the chairs by the fire. The clamps slip out of his hand, reminding him he has them. Pours them back and forth between his hands for a minute, then puts them down and starts taking off his jacket.

"I stare at his fingers as he's unbuttoning his shirt, my mouth's getting dry. If he puts those things on in front of me, I'm going to disgrace myself by whimpering. He doesn't undo it all the way, only enough to expose his chest. I can see he's wearing a nipple ring, already, and one clamp fits into it, easily.

"He has a problem attaching the other though, and before I can stop myself, I'm in front of him, taking it away and playing with the nubbin, making it hard for him. I put the other clamp on, step back, admire the chain shining through the hairs on his chest. He gives me this smile, half invitation, half tease, and drags the fingers of his left hand down his body, all the way to his crotch. His hard-on isn't full mast, yet, but I watch him outline it through the fabric, watch it grow.

"Only thing that stops me from getting on my knees in front of him and sucking at him through his pants is the sound of people heading our way. Swearing at myself, I'm his damn body-guard for christ's sake, I back off. But I don't feel so bad, cause he looks disappointed. He does up his buttons, grabs his jacket, just as three people come in, slips back into it.

"It's two men and a woman. High, drunk, both, she sees us, purrs up to my client, touching his erection. He shoots me a look that says plain as day, oh, yuck, and tries to peel her off. The guys with her decide she's got the right idea, and move in on either side. The three of them are dragging him down to the ground, despite the fact he's not too happy about it. They've obviously got a gang-bang in mind.

"I wade in, plucking them off, and throwing them across the room. He's trying to get to his feet; I yank him up, pick him up, and carry him out. We're in the foyer before it registers he's got both arms around my neck, and is biting and sucking on me through my clothes. The limo's waiting; I put him in, tell the driver to take the long way back.

"By the time I get in and get the door closed behind me, he's on his knees, bending over the seat, rear to me, taking down his pants...."

"Uhh, Jim."

"I rip off my belt, open my fly....

"Jim..."

"I've never been harder or bigger.."

"I'll say. Whoa!"

"His bare ass is right there in front of me, and I can't decide if I want to taste it or fuck it...."

"JIM!"

Eyes popping open, Jim focused on his lover, finding him in the position he had been describing from his fantasy. With a growl, he got behind him, placed his cock at the opening to Blair's body, and shoved, hard.

Mind and thought melted into the heat of the tight channel, and he filled it, forced himself away, just to fill it again, and again. Blair backed into his thrusts, making mewling sounds of delight, driving both of them faster and harder. Despite that, they tried to make it last, but when Blair could stand the ache no longer, he reached for himself, crying out as Jim's pounding forced his own cock into his fist.

The sound was more than Jim could take, and he threw back his head, screaming as his climax ripped through him. With his own scream, Blair followed him, spilling his seed over his chest and hand.

They held their pose for a few moments, pulsing into and around each other. Then, somehow Jim found the strength to drag both of them back onto the couch, side by side. Cuddling close, Blair nosed at the wall of Jim's chest, while he swept his tongue over and around the hard buds decorating it.

After a minute, he mumbled, "Jim, do you know where you can get clamps like those, locally?"

The End.