by Max Hudson
When Tyler's mouth wrapped around Jack’s, Jack did the same around Tyler’s tawny spike. The taste touched off memories in the back of his brain; high school locker rooms after football practice, the weight room in the campus gym, hours of karate training in that crisp whitegi.
And while Jack had never had a man in him before, his tongue had delighted many a young woman, and he was strong and proficient. He noted the veins along the sides of Tyler’s erection, his shaved crotch smooth as a turtle shell.
While Tyler worked his expert skills on Jack, Jack was bringing all of his own experience and style, flicking his tongue back and forth as he traced Tyler’s length as he might have to any of his other lovers.
Jack squeezed Tyler and Tyler squeezed Jack in response. When mouths enveloped cocks, Jack felt as if they were nearly a single person, energy coursing through his mouth and into Tyler through that wondrous wet wand, then through Tyler and back into Jack the same way. It was a cycle of passion and power that kept swirling around and around, enjoining the two men in a way Jack had never experienced and never expected.
With a turn and a tumble, Tyler was lying behind Jack on the floor, both facing the same direction as Tyler’s hard, wet rod pressed into the crevice between Jack’s ass cheeks.
Jack turned, his body suddenly rigid. It wasn’t quite fear, though that was an element of what was filling his tissues, hardening his muscles against what they knew was coming.
“It’s okay,” Tyler said with a smiling whisper, and Jack new that he was right. It was a new experience for Jack, but one that he instantly understood in ways he never had before. He knew there was nothing wrong in what they were about to do, though his mind was spinning from a confused sense of not knowing what to think or what to expect.
He wouldn’t have to wait long to find out.
That wet dick pressed slowly in, his cheeks spreading to take it in. But Tyler was slow and certain, careful, a complete master of his own body and, at that moment, of Jack’s as well.
“It’s all right,” Tyler said, grainy and soothing behind him as his dick pushed in just a bit further, pushing Jack’s tissues to the side, compacting his innards from behind and below.
Tyler stopped and pulled back, pausing to remain inside before pushing forward again, slow and subtle as could be, stopping well before his long mid-shaft. Then in and out, slowly, just those glorious first few inches, and Jack could barely recognize the feelings in his body as being his own. Electricity shot through his as that round meat rod pushed in and out in a slow, regular rhythm.
Jack let himself go, not fighting it and not questioning it, his body shifting back and forth in little juts, reacting to Tyler’s perfect prodding, offering no resistance and hardly any response. Jack was being indulging himself, giving himself up to Tyler the way he’d never done to any woman.
Tyler started pumping faster and sinking in a bit deeper, Jack’s pelvis feeling like it was going to crack up the middle. But it didn’t, and Tyler seemed to know that it wouldn’t.
Tyler added little variations to his quickening cycle, circular rotations both clockwise and counter sent bolts of seething pleasure into Jack’s body, and the return to a faster piston-like motion began to drive Jack higher and higher into the dizzying sexual stratosphere.
Tyler shook his hips, that shuddering sideways motion sending waves of painful pleasure through Jack’s body, not to mention his soul and his mind. Around and around, side-to-side, then deep and long, pummeling Jack from behind; Tyler was in control, Jack initiated into a new and fascinating facet of his own complex person; just how complex, Jack was only then discovering.
But he would never be able to forget it.
Jack’s teeth gritted as he hissed out a satisfied growl, Tyler moving faster and more violently behind him.
“There you go,” Tyler hissed, “that's right, you've been waiting for this for a long time, Jack, too long …”
“Yeah,” Jack said, “yeah, give it to me, give it to me!”
And Tyler obliged, his power and aggression rising and inspiring Jack’s hard cock to ready a long-waiting orgasm. It stirred in his sack as Tyler throttled him from behind, aching in his hips and creating a swelling bubble of bone-cracking passion.
That hot wad gathered up inside Jack. He was usually able to control it, withhold it all night if need be. This time Jack felt that he was no longer in control, of his orgasm, of his body or of his life.
Things were changing fast, and the proof made his body shudder as it raced down his long, bare stalk. Jack’s cock launched a spike of hot white goo straight out, another twitch throwing a second wad onto the living room floor, Jack’s hips jutting.
Tyler released at the same time, a few final thrusts to send his own seething seed into Jack’s innermost crevices, filling his secret chambers with that scintillating juice.
Their bodies jutted and stiffened, finally relaxing as their muscles released and their moment of pitched passion gently receded, leaving them huddled against the foot of the couch, collapsing in each other’s arms.
Chapter Eight
Jack and Tyler stayed up late that night, talking and cuddling and even getting each other off again. Afterward, sipping a cold beer and gazing out the window at the glimmering capital city, Jack asked Tyler, “So, now what?”
Tyler shrugged. “I dunno. What do you want?”
Jack gave it some thought, but could only come up with one answer. “I dunno. Don’t get me wrong, I mean, I liked this, I like you, I really do, but …”
“Jack, you don’t have to explain. You're right, it’s not something anybody should know anything about.”
“No?”
“This town’s incestuous enough, Jack, everybody talking about everybody else. Just look what happened with Senator Cafferty killed himself, everybody instantly jumping to conclusions. What happens in our private lives is just that, it’s private.”
Jack was quick to agree. “Not to mention the ramifications.”
After a curious pause, Tyler asked, “What ramifications?”
“Well, I mean, our bosses are adversaries. If this comes out, it could bounce back pretty hard on my guy.” As Jack thought it out, he couldn't help but be suddenly worried about what kind of compromise he’d brought to Senator Sommers' position, not to mention his own.
Tyler smiled. “I thought maybeI was your guy.” Jack smiled and they nuzzled, the moon full and round over the most powerful city in the world.
Tyler waited, pausing, reconsidering before feeling that he had to ask, “What about your girlfriend?”
“Tabitha? You know about that?”
Tyler shrugged. “Just goes to show how hard it is to keep a secret in this town.”
Jack nodded. “We’re not exclusive, she’s made that pretty clear. I don't think we ever had much of a future.”
Tyler leaned forward. “What about us?”
Jack sighed. “I don’t know, Tyler. But I look forward to finding out.”
****The next morning Jack was making his way toward the Capitol Building, walking briskly in the crisp spring morning, when a black town car rolled up beside him and rolled to a stop.
Jack turned as the window rolled down to reveal Secret Service Special Agent Barbara Sellars. “Mister Ballen,” she said, forcing a smile. “May we call you Jack?” Jack’s stomach twitched with nerves and he glanced around, not sure what he was looking for. Barbara glanced at the backseat and said, “Get in, Jack.”
Jack knew he didn’t have any choice.
Once inside the car rolled forward, Special Agent Hathaway behind the wheel. Jack cleared his throat. “Good morning,” he said.
The special agents addressed at Jack’s reflection in the rearview mirror. “How are you, Jack?”
“I’m all right. Was there something I could do for you?”
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with a Mr. Tyler Johns of late?” Jack’s blood ran cold, but he tried to maintain a casual air. “Mister Tyler, of
Senator Grant Douglass’ office.”
The silence was more than Jack could resist. He finally said, “Tyler’s a good guy.”
“And that’s why you’re spending so much time together, Jack, because he’s such a good guy?”
“Our bosses don’t get along,” Jack said, “as I’m sure you both know. Their sides are coming to blows over this new Fairness in Protection Act, the rally beforehand, so they’ve got us representing them in personal negotiations. It’s not that unusual, especially around here. Most people aren’t on speaking terms at any given time.”
Special Agent Hathaway asked Jack, “And what kind of personal negotiations have there been?”
“Not that many, to tell you the truth. And there may not be. I think the senators are just, y’know, keeping their distance.”
“Uh-huh. And what about you, Jack? What kind of distance are you keeping?”
Jack’s heart jumped in his chest. “What do you mean?”
“How close are you getting to Mr. Johns?”
“Not as much as you’d think,” Jack said.
“He hasn’t … confided anything to you?”
“No.”
The special agents glanced at one another before Special Agent Sellars turned to look at Jack straight on. “How well did you know Mr. Johns before these personal negotiations?”
“Not at all,” Jack said, his voice sharp and quick. Jack looked at the two special agents. “What are you getting at? You think Tyler’s done something? Was he blackmailing Senator Cafferty?”
Special Agent Sellars said, “Who said anything about blackmail?”
“We talked about it a few days ago,” Jack said, “in the hallway, the Hill’s buzzing with it. Is it true, is that what you're saying?”
“We’re not saying anything,” Special Agent Hathaway said. “And you’d better not say anything either, to anyone. Are we clear?”
“Well, sure, yeah,” Jack said, having no choice. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your investigation —”
“Obstruction of justice would be the exact charge,” Special Agent Hathaway said, one brow raised.
“Right, exactly,” Jack said. “And if I come across anything, I’ll let you know, ASAP.”
The two special agents exchanged a knowing glance. She said to Jack, “We surely would appreciate that.”
Special Agent Hathaway rolled the car to a stop. “Have a good day, Jack.”
****
Tabitha was walking down the hallway of Senator Sommers' offices when the man himself approached her from behind. She turned with a start. “Senator, hi.”
Each smiled awkwardly, a nervous tension surrounding them. With stilted professionalism and a forced ease, Senator Sommers said, “Tabitha, glad I found you. I need you to go down to the basement, look up some old files for me.”
“The basement?”
“Yeah, I know it’s a drag, but these are old cases, they’re still not in the database.”
“The … the basement?”
Senator Sommers sighed and shook his head as he handed Tabitha a piece of paper with several names scribbled by hand. “Your tax dollars at work, am I right? Anyway, pull up everything you can and bring it up pronto.”
Tabitha’s fear quivered in her throat. “Bring it to you in your office?”
He smiled tenderly. “That’s right. We’ll have a little privacy, a chance to talk about things, about last night —”
“I’ll, um, I’ll go down and get these files,” Tabitha said, forcing a smile and turning to head down the hall in the other directions.
Senator Sommers said, “Tabitha,” causing her to stop and turn. In a serious tone, he added, “Bring them right up, directly.” Tabitha nodded and turned, head down as she walked down the hall.
The elevator ride was quiet and Tabitha was alone. The basement was rarely visited by anyone other than the janitorial staff. There was just the one staff member at the desk, and Tabitha felt very alone and isolated as she headed into the massive chamber filled with row after row of file cabinets.
Tabitha checked the first case name and number on her list, dated06/2006, and that was the most recent date on the list. Tabitha checked the file cabinets, the years going back, month after month. She almost felt as if she was walking backward in time, into the murky past, where secrets waited to reach out from the shadows and consume her.
Her heels clicked against the linoleum floor, but when Tabitha stopped she thought she heard another pair of feet nearby, stopping hastily. Hearing nothing above her own heartbeat, Tabitha looked around, the vast aisles long and seemingly empty around her.
Tabitha sighed and went back to the file cabinets, finding the row marked 2006. She headed down that aisle, following the dates on the cabinets toward the drawers marked06.
She pulled the drawer open, plastic rollers against metal tracks, the clack filling the quiet chamber. Tabitha flipped through the countless folders, but another sound, the squeak of rubber, caught her attention. Tabitha stopped and looked around, but once again there was nobody in sight.
“Hello?” Tabitha waited, and when she got no response, she repeated even louder, “Hello? Is there anybody there?”
Nothing but silence answered her, until she returned her attention to the file cabinet. But that faint, squeaky sound came back in a steady cluster.
Footsteps, Tabitha realized. She looked around again, her heart beating fast, her mouth going dry. Tabitha left the draw open, but walked down the little aisle to the wider aisle between the rows of cabinets. She looked up and down the aisle, seeing nobody but still hearing the creaking footsteps, getting even louder; no longer hiding and stalking, but closing in fast.
Tabitha called out, “If there’s anybody here, it’s not very funny, you prowling around like this!” No answer, no activity, Tabitha’s nervous gaze shot to the corners of the big chamber.
Don’t be foolish, Tabitha told herself.All this talk about blackmail and suicide has us all wound up. Those special agents prowling around, turning us all against each other. Was that Senator Douglass’ strategy all along, to plant the seeds of doubt and let them tear us apart? Isn't that what Carlton was warning me about? Now they’ve got me all turned around, seeing things that aren't there, people who aren't there.
Ridiculous.
Tabitha took a deep breath and turned to walk back down the little aisle to the opened file drawer. But she gasped, shocked to see a man standing behind her, wearing black overalls and a matching cap, the janitorial uniform of Capitol Hill.
Tabitha had to catch her breath, but the man’s grim expression, unmoving and uncaring, kept Tabitha’s muscles tense and tight along her back and shoulders.
“Um, excuse me,” she said, her voice fluttering. “Sorry if I got in your way. I was just, um, I was going to that file cabinet over there.” Tabitha looked over his shoulder and down the aisle to see that the cabinet door had been closed.
She looked back at the man in the janitor’s uniform. His face was clean and his brown hair well-trimmed under his cap. His wasn’t the face of a janitor, something Tabitha couldn’t deny. She looked down at the big empty cart next to him, a canvas bin meant for the towels supplied to the senators whose offices had private bathrooms equipped with showers.
But Tabitha couldn’t quite reason out why a janitor with a towel hamper would be in the file library. She cleared her throat again. “I … I’m just gonna go.”
She didn't wait for a response, and it was just as well. She didn't get one. Instead, she hurried down the big aisle between the rows of cabinets toward the exit. Her heart was pounding, ankles passing each other with increasing speed, one foot even bumping the other in her haste. Tabitha nearly stumbled, but stayed on her feet as she made her way across the chamber.
But another man in a matching janitor’s jumper stepped out from another perpendicular aisle, turning to glare at Tabitha as he stood in the aisle to block her path. A jagged scar cut across his left cheek.
> Tabitha’s fear tore out of her mouth in a shriek as she skidded to a stop, turning to see the other janitor approaching from behind, steadily pushing that big empty hamper toward her.
I’ll be in it soon enough, Tabitha was certain.And after that, a shallow grave.
Tabitha cut into another of the smaller aisles and ran, heart pounding, sweat collecting along the crevice of her spine. Panting as she reached the end of the aisle, Tabitha was ready to be met by more of those goons, waiting in ambush with a chloroform cloth or a taser gun to zap her out of consciousness and get her out of the building, nice and quiet.
She broke through into the next big aisle without capture, and it was only a few more feet to the desk at the big room’s entry, a witness to her plight, somebody to offer some protection.
Or will she just turn me over to them? Can’t risk it!
Tabitha ran past the desk, the clerk saying, “Here now, what’s going on? Come back here, young woman!”
But Tabitha was already in the hall heading toward the stairwell. It seemed like the fastest and therefore the safest way up to the main floor. Once I’m in the lobby I’ll be safe! They can’t touch me with all those witnesses, they can’t!
Tabitha pushed the door open and spilled into the concrete stairwell. Once she reasoned that they could have had somebody waiting for her there, and that she’d be trapped in a sound-proof stairwell, only occurred to her after it was too late.
But she found the stairwell empty, and Tabitha scrambled up, her footsteps clacking and reverberating against the hard, flat walls. Her heart was near to bursting behind her ribs as she ran up those steps, the door just a few precious inches in front of her.
Tabitha finally reached the door and pushed her way through. With a relieved gasp, Tabitha stumbled into the lobby of the Capitol Building, people strolling in every direction. Too many of them glanced at her, sweating and panting and terrified, a nearly delirious smile on her face as she stood in the center of the lobby. She felt their glares and tried to collect herself, fixing her skirt and hair before scurrying off across the lobby and to the woman’s room to splash some cold water on her face and redo her makeup.