Serenading Stanley (29 page)

Roger gripped Stanley’s sides and leaned forward to press his face against Stanley’s chest as his hips began to move and his cock began to slide in and out, slowly. In as far as it would go, and out until they almost parted. Then in again with excruciating slowness. And out until Stanley was trembling all over, begging to be pounded, begging for a harder fuck. But Roger held back, knowing it was driving them both crazy with need and figuring that was a good thing. Yes indeedy.

Stanley craned his neck and let his head fall back as Roger’s fat cock sweetly tore into him, oh so slowly, time and time again. When Roger gripped Stanley’s erection and stroked it at the same time as his cock was burying itself in that warm satin ass, Stanley cried out in rapture.

Roger’s fingers were so eager and loving around his penis, Stanley felt a shudder run through him. A look of hunger was plastered across Roger’s perfect face, and seeing it there, Stanley had to bend down and kiss those heavenly lips. When he did, Roger pulled him closer with his free arm, even while he continued to pump his cock into Stanley’s ass and slide his fist around Stanley’s throbbing dick.

It was like they were one happy humping entity. As Arthur screamed and wailed in 6D, Stanley moaned and writhed in 6C while Roger lurched and lunged beneath him.

“I’m getting close,” Roger breathed in Stanley’s ear, holding him tight with both arms, pressing his face to Stanley’s neck as his cock plumbed the depths of Stanley’s ass.

“Me too,” Stanley breathed back, and then buried Roger’s smile in a kiss. And as they kissed, Roger’s cock scraped across Stanley’s prostate, and Stanley groaned and came. His sperm shot out through Roger’s fist and splattered Roger’s chest, neck, and face, all the way up to Roger’s forehead. Roger laughed and licked the come from his mouth, still stroking Stanley’s cock, milking the last drops of semen from it. The taste of Stanley’s come made Roger close his eyes in ecstasy. Little Mouse’s come was sweet.

Roger longed to feel Stanley’s dick in his mouth but was unable to reach it while his cock was still engulfed in Stanley’s ass. Only a giraffe would have been able to do that. So Roger gasped and buried his face in Stanley’s chest as his own come roiled in his balls, begging to be released. Driven by desire, Roger let himself go, and pumping Stanley’s ass as hard as he could, he stuttered out a curse of joy as his come finally broke free, filling the condom, causing the muscles of Stanley’s ass to grip his cock tightly, squeezing out every drop, stroking it like a fist.

When he was spent at last, Roger pressed his lips to Stanley’s throat as Stanley hugged him tight, still connected, still moving. Both cocks still dribbling come.

Stanley finally opened his eyes and saw Roger staring up at him with a satisfied smile.

“You’re something else, baby,” Roger breathed, stroking Stanley’s back, holding him tight. “You really, really are.”

Still straddling Roger but unable to speak just yet, Stanley dropped his face into the short hair atop Roger’s head and breathed in his scent. He figured that was answer enough.

They stayed that way for the longest time, Roger’s cock still burrowed comfortably in Stanley’s ass, Stanley’s face luxuriating in the sensation of Roger’s short, stiff hair bristling against his tender lips.

All the while, Arthur continued to scream and rail and carry on like a lunatic next door.

Stanley wondered if Ramon had a headache yet from listening to Arthur’s bellowing. And if he didn’t, Stanley wondered why the hell not.

A
FTER
a second shower to cool off and clean up, Stanley tossed their bath towels aside and tugged Roger onto the bed so the breeze from the fan could play deliciously across their naked skin. Stanley could never remember being happier or more content than he was at that very moment. He and Roger fell into each other’s arms and snuggled up close, letting the world outside the bedroom window slip on by without them for a while. They lay on their sides, facing each other. Roger stroked Stanley’s lean flanks with his fingertips, brushing the crisp, blond hair on Stanley’s thighs and massaging the clean line of his hip. Stanley slid his hand through the hair on Roger’s chest, occasionally bending in to press his face to it, simply because he couldn’t bear not to. It was still slightly damp from the shower and smelled of soap. He loved the way it felt against his face.

“You aren’t afraid of me anymore,” Roger said with a smile.

Stanley blushed but grinned over it. “No. No, I’m not.”

“So you trust me now.”

“Yes. I trust you. How can I not trust the person I love?” Stanley gazed into the green depths of Roger’s eyes. In the afternoon light bouncing off the bedroom walls, he could see streaks of gold radiating out from the pupils of Roger’s eyes. Those little flashes of light were beautiful, like golden sunbursts. He found himself saying things that a month ago he would never have dreamed imaginable. “You wield all the power now, Roger. You can crush me with a look, or lift me up with a kiss.”

“Wow, Little Mouse. That’s poetic. Did you make it up?”

Stanley’s blush intensified to a raging red. “I don’t know. Maybe I read it somewhere. The words just kind of fell out of my mouth. You bring out the cornball in me.”

Roger ever so gently brushed a fingertip over Stanley’s long eyelashes, just to see how it would feel. Stanley didn’t even blink while he did it. Then Roger did the same to Stanley’s other eye. “You’re a romantic,” Roger purred. “You don’t think you are, but you are. I like that.”

Embarrassed, Stanley buried his face in Roger’s chest. But he was smiling, too. “I was never a romantic until I met you. I never had anything to be romantic about.”

Roger’s face softened. He hooked a finger under Stanley’s chin and dragged him out of hiding. Studying Stanley’s sweet face, he sensed the need in Stanley’s eyes, sensed the longing. He could tell Stanley loved him just by glancing at his eyes. There were no lies in him. There never had been. How could Roger not love a man like that?
So tell him,
Roger thought.
Tell him now. I don’t care if you told him two minutes ago. Tell him again.

“I love you too, Stanley. I think you know that now. I’m in this for the long haul. I never want to lose you. You’re the best thing I’ve ever known. And you fuck like a monkey.”

Stanley barked out a laugh, only then discovering that, aside from fucking like a monkey, he could also bray like a jackass. In seconds the two of them were laughing like fools.

“That laugh! God, what a sound!” Roger howled, laughing so hard tears were squirting from his eyes. “Next to your laugh, Arthur’s bellowing sounds like an aria!”

“Oh, yeah?”

Still laughing, Stanley climbed on top of Roger and pinned him down on the bed. He pressed his chest against Roger’s and pushed his mouth over Roger’s lips to choke off Roger’s cackling. Roger’s laughter slowly died of oxygen deprivation.

Roger’s arms snaked around and held Stanley where he was, right where Roger wanted him to be. Roger liked feeling Stanley there on top of him. Liked the weight of him pressing against his chest, squeezing the air out of him. He liked the feel of Stanley’s cock, half-hard, stabbing at his stomach, Stanley’s lean, strong legs corralling his own. Even their toes were playing cuddlies down at the foot of the bed.

As their laughter petered out, desire began to blossom yet again. Then Stanley bolted upright, still straddling Roger’s hips as he had while they were making love. His face was suddenly sober, and Roger stared up at him, wondering what Stanley was about to say.

When Stanley spoke the words, Roger wasn’t surprised, for the same thoughts had been on his own mind lately.

“What’s going to happen when I finish school?” Stanley asked. “I have no idea where my career will take me. I can’t exactly pick and choose what jobs I’ll get or where they are. I’m at the mercy of fate. What if I have to go somewhere where you can’t be? How can I leave you? What the hell will I do, Roger? How will I ever survive?” By the time he finished blurting out his fears, Stanley’s eyes were wild, his voice tense and sharp as razor wire.

Roger laid his fingertips along Stanley’s cheek, calming him. “Wherever you go, it’ll be inside the U.S., right?”

Stanley nodded. “Sure. There may be digs in other places from time to time, but I’ll always
live
here.”

Roger smiled. “If you’re in the U.S., then wherever you are, they’ll probably need nurses. Hell, I can work anywhere. In any city in the country. And I don’t care where I hang my scrubs as long as you’re there with me. We’ll work it out. We’re a team, Stanley. We love each other. I won’t let anything separate us. Okay?”

Stanley nodded. Mute. Eyes bright. Then he found his voice. “Besides,” he said, more easily now that Roger had calmed his fears, “it’s almost two years away. It’s too soon to worry about it now. Right? Isn’t that right?”

“Right as rain.” With a grin, Roger lifted a hip and flipped Stanley off; then he immediately rolled over and pinned Stanley down the exact same way Stanley had been pinning him. He let his face hover over Stanley’s, inches apart. Stanley lifted his head with a grunt and gave him a peck on the mouth. Roger pecked right back. Stanley’s breath was sweet. Just like his come. And Roger smiled, remembering the taste of it, hot on his lips.

A thought clawed its way to the forefront of Stanley’s mind. A thought concerning the ball.

“Arthur keeps talking about raising money for Sylvia’s operation, but I’ve never heard how he intends to do that.”

Roger groaned and dropped his head to Stanley’s chest. “Want me to tell you?”

Stanley tried to peek at Roger’s face. “Yeah. Why? What is it?”

Roger sat up. His legs pressed at Stanley’s hips. Stanley stroked one muscular thigh with the palm of his hand, and with his other hand, he plucked gently at the hair surrounding Roger’s navel and flat stomach. God, the man was gorgeous. Stanley literally could not keep his hands off him.

“Now don’t freak out,” Roger said. “But Arthur was going to auction me off.”

“You?”

“Yeah. Sort of like a slave for the night. Or that’s what he wanted. I told him if he wanted to auction me off for a simple dinner date with the winner, then that was okay. But there wouldn’t be any sex involved. I’m not ChiChi. I don’t do it for money. I won’t even do it for Sylvia. Especially now that I have you. I didn’t think you’d be too thrilled about me going on a date with someone else just when we were getting things worked out between us. Not even for a simple dinner. So I told Arthur to get someone else. I told him a week ago. I’m now officially off the market.”

“You most certainly are,” Stanley grumped, as if the very idea Roger would go out to dine with anyone else was preposterous. The idea he might actually
sleep
with someone else, even for
charity,
was so preposterous Stanley refused to let it bother him. Roger wouldn’t do that if Stanley
wasn’t
in the picture. Roger was too honorable to do such a thing, and Stanley knew it. “So what’d Arthur say when you told him?”

Roger chuckled. “Arthur acted all hurt for a while; then he said he might have a better idea anyway. He’s going to give all the tenants chances to sell their own lottery tickets to help Sylvia raise money for her surgery. And the person who sells the most tickets will get a year’s free rent.”

Stanley looked doubtful. “Can he do that? He’s just the building manager. It’s not like he owns the Belladonna Arms.”

Roger gave him an incredulous look. “Well, actually….”

Stanley blinked. “You mean Arthur
does
own the building. Gee, I thought he just worked here.”

“Nope,” Roger said. “It’s all his.”

Stanley thought that over. “But wouldn’t he make more money for Sylvia by simply giving her the equivalent of someone’s free rent for a year? Or better yet, give
Sylvia
free rent for a year. Let her pay her doctors instead of Arthur. Arthur’s nuts.”

Roger nodded. “Like a fox. He would give the prize money to Sylvia anyway, but now he also will have all the money from the tenants selling lottery tickets to add to it. It’s actually a pretty smart idea. Someone will end up with a year’s worth of free rent, and Sylvia will be a pretty good jump closer to having the money she needs to pay for her surgery. Contrary to all appearances, Arthur’s no fool,” Roger stated, like a man who knows what he’s talking about. “And he really is crazy about Sylvia. He couldn’t just give her the money outright because he knew she wouldn’t take it. This way she will. She’s fortunate to have a friend like Arthur. He’s trying to do the right thing by her. He loves her. He really does. And we all know how miserable an unrequited love affair can be.” Roger waggled his eyebrows, reminding Stanley what a putz he had been sneaking up and down the stairs and practically making Roger beg for his attention.

“Sorry,” Stanley said.

And Roger echoed his words. “Sorry, indeed. Little Mouse the heartbreaker.”

“Well, no more,” Stanley said.

Roger nodded, his eyes warming with love all over again. “No. No more.”

Stanley suddenly cocked his head to the side and listened. “And speaking of Arthur—he’s not screaming anymore. Just listen to that blessed silence. Ramon must have peeled him raw. Or yanked his tongue out.”

Roger tsked. “Poor bastard.”

“Which one?”

“Both of them.”

Roger leaned in for another kiss, and he seemed to mean business this time. Not only was his tongue being extra titillating in Stanley’s lucky little mouth, but Roger was also diddling around with Stanley’s cock while he did it, and Stanley’s cock was responding with unbridled enthusiasm.

Just as Stanley was
really
getting into it, they heard a knock at the door.

Naturally.

S
TANLEY
and Roger were still tugging their clothes on when Stanley yanked open the door.

It was Arthur. Or what was left of him. He wore a white terry bathrobe, which he hadn’t bothered to pull tight around him. Or perhaps he couldn’t
bear
to
pull it tight around him.