Testing Lysander

by L. M. Somerton

  Brock stripped off his clothes too quickly for Kyle’s liking. He would have preferred more of a show but he could hardly reveal his presence and ask for it.

  “Oh, that’s more like it,” Kyle murmured as Brock stepped beneath the spray and began to make orgasmic moaning noises. Kyle fought back a laugh. He didn’t want to give himself away just yet, not when he had a perfect rear view of Brock’s lithe, muscular body, all wet and glistening. Brock stretched his arms up and the muscles in his thighs and ass tightened, then he bent to rub the muddy streaks off his legs and Kyle was presented with firm buttocks crying out for his touch. As if sensing a presence behind him, Brock swiveled around and raised an eyebrow. He was erect, despite the cold water. Kyle licked his lips and gave him a slow, lazy smile.

  “How long have you been watching me?” Brock asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  “I suppose not. Are you just going to carry on standing there?”

  Kyle interpreted that as an invitation and he had no intention of giving Brock a chance to withdraw it. He pulled off his clothes, discarding them in a messy heap, then stepped into the spray. The ledge Brock had chosen to use was not that wide, meaning that Kyle needed to stand close to him, something he was very pleased about. He took full advantage and began to slide his hands across Brock’s slick golden skin, touching and kissing at will. With his chest pressed to Brock’s back and his cock probing at Brock’s ass, Kyle was in heaven. Brock responded by pushing back against him, inviting as much contact as Kyle could give. He sealed their bodies together, shoulder to thigh, and sucked up a mark on Brock’s neck.

  Brock made such delicious noises. They were almost enough to make Kyle come there and then. He wrapped his arms around Brock’s slippery torso and plucked at his nipples, eliciting little groans of pleasure-pain.

  “Need to kiss you.” Words were hard to get out. Kyle wanted to use his mouth for kissing, not talking. Brock obliged him by rotating in the circle of his arms.

  “What’s stopping you?” The challenge in Brock’s voice was clear. Kyle cupped the nape of Brock’s neck with one hand and grabbed his ass with the other.

  “Nothing at all.” He pressed his lips to Brock’s, demanding entry. Brock opened to him willingly and Kyle deepened the kiss. Brock’s dick, only semi-erect now, pressed against Kyle’s groin as they seemed to meld together and become one. Kyle dropped his hand from neck to ass and used both to massage Brock’s cheeks. He separated them enough to allow cool water to trickle down the resulting valley. Using one finger, he began to torment Brock’s hole, rubbing around the edge before pushing firmly inside him. Brock gasped and wriggled, trying to draw him in deeper. When Kyle pulled free, Brock’s moan was one of disappointment.

  “No more, not without lube.”

  “Want more. Like the burn,” Brock complained. Tiny droplets of water balanced on his lashes. Kyle kissed them away.

  “I know you do, but I’m not going to risk damaging you.”

  “You won’t… I trust you.”

  Brock squirmed in his hold.

  “Greedy man. I’ll look after you. Don’t worry. I want you, but that’s not going to happen while the necessary equipment is hypothermic!”

  “Then I think we’re clean enough, don’t you?”

  “So impatient. It’s not like the water’s going to run out.” Kyle grabbed Brock’s hand and pulled him back toward the fire.

  “Now who’s the pushy one?” Brock protested as Kyle manhandled him across the cave.

  “That’s my job, remember? Please accept that I find you irresistible when you’re all wet and dripping. I just need to get my cock out of cryostasis.”

  “The water wasn’t that cold… It was refreshing.” Brock shook his head like a soggy puppy and sent water flying everywhere.

  Kyle glanced back at his lover’s cock.

  “You’re only half hard. You could do with a little defrosting too.” Kyle grabbed Brock’s dick and used it to tow him toward the welcome warmth of the fire. Brock followed meekly, hardening with every step, much to Kyle’s amusement.

  “I should put your dick in a leash. It would suit you and I think you’d like it. Don’t you agree, sweetheart? I could take you to The Underground, a great BDSM club I know in London, and lead you around by your cock. Naked, of course, apart from a nice collar and cuffs set.”

  Brock whimpered, but when Kyle contemplated him, Brock’s handsome face was flushed and his eyes were bright with excitement.

  “Sounds awful, Sir.” Brock nibbled his lip and looked at Kyle through his lashes.

  “You’re a terrible liar, love.”

  It was fewer than thirty paces to the fireside, but, apart from his hair, Kyle was almost dry by the time they got there. Brock’s longer style meant that there were still shiny rivulets of liquid on his chest as water continued to drip from his blond strands. The crackling flames cast dancing shadows across the rocks around their camping area. The dark stone was bathed in orange and red light and the air misted with tiny wisps of steam as a few stray droplets landed in the fire. Kyle reluctantly let go of Brock’s now iron-hard erection and grabbed a clean T-shirt from his pack. He gave his head a quick rub with it, then tossed the damp garment to Brock. While Brock used his makeshift towel to get a bit drier, making his dick move in a very enticing manner, Kyle searched in his pack for a condom and lube.

  “Yes! Found it.” His hands shook a little as he tore open a foil packet and rolled the silky sheath onto his now-straining cock. Brock grinned at him.

  “You packed supplies?”

  “Of course I did. They went in before anything else.”

  “You’re far too pleased with yourself.”

  Kyle pushed Brock toward the wall of the cave. “This is not the time for conversation. Brace yourself, this isn’t going to be gentle,” he growled.

  Brock giggled. “Brace yourself? Really?”

  Kyle gave Brock’s ass a hard slap.

  “Ow!”

  “Behave, brat.”

  Brock locked his arm muscles and braced against the stone, bending so that his butt stuck out. Uncaring of the hard surface, Kyle dropped to his knees and sank his teeth into one cheek. He didn’t bite hard enough to break skin, but he dug his teeth deep enough to leave a bruise.

  “Fuck!”

  “Open your legs wider,” Kyle snapped, getting impatient. He dragged his tongue through Brock’s crack and teased his hole, pushing inside just a little way before withdrawing. “Love the way you taste.” He slicked a couple of fingers and pushed them into Brock’s channel. “Need to get you nice and slippery, but not too stretched.” The preparation was cursory, but Kyle had no patience for lengthy foreplay. He stood, dribbled more lube onto his gloved cock and smeared it around, then lined his dick up with its target. Brock’s glossy entrance winked at him as his muscles contracted.

  “Think you can keep me out, do you?” Kyle rammed into Brock. “Gonna fill you up.” Intense heat surrounded his cock. Brock pushed back and Kyle drove deeper inside him.

  “Hurts so good,” Brock moaned.

  Kyle couldn’t hold back. He pounded Brock’s ass with a desperation born of unstated fear for the future. Every thrust set new nerves on fire. Flesh met flesh, over and over again. Kyle grabbed Brock by the hips and used the increased leverage to good effect.

  “Taking you so deep I don’t want you seeing anything except a red haze in front of your eyes.”

  Brock cried out as Kyle forced him toward the rock, grazing his forearms as he tried to resist the pressure. Brock’s internal muscles squeezed Kyle hard and Kyle fought to control his urge to come. He pulled free.

  “I know what you’re up to. I’m not done with you yet.” The words came out in short punchy sounds, stabbing the air with a lethal edge. “Bend over and grab your ankles.”

  “So fucking romantic.”

  Kyle was banking on Brock being too dazed to do anything but obey. He shifted one arm around Brock’s waist, supporting him as
he bent forward. Actually, he decided, it was more of a flop than a controlled bend. He grinned. Brock was loose and pliant in his arms.

  “Love you like this… Helpless and vulnerable.”

  “Love it when you go all Dommy on me.” Brock wriggled, pushing his ass back, seeking Kyle’s dick. “Empty. Need you in me.”

  “Your ass is begging for it.”

  Brock had no leverage. He couldn’t fight the position. He was at Kyle’s mercy and that was the ultimate turn-on. Kyle speared him deeper than before, sinking inside him then withdrawing until only the tip of his cock remained in Brock’s grasping channel. Then he plunged forward again, pulling Brock back at the same time. He ground his hips against Brock’s body, drilling into him, then reached for Brock’s rigid dick. Instead of grasping it and giving Brock some relief, he gave it a couple of hard flicks with his fingers.

  “Fucking bastard!” Brock came with a shout of indignant outrage. He struggled and fought but Kyle’s superior strength made sure that he stood no chance of escape. Brock’s muscles continued to spasm with the intensity of his orgasm, and he sobbed with what sounded to Kyle like a mixture of joy and frustration. The whimpers and small cries brought Kyle to the edge and tipped him over. He came with force, punishing Brock’s beautiful ass with a few final jerks of his hips.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Kyle gasped out the words. His arms trembled and he released his hold on Brock gradually, allowing him to sink to all fours in front of him, his breath coming in short, ragged heaves. Brock gave a short laugh and went back to sucking in air. Kyle leaned against the cave wall, needing its support.

  “You okay?” he asked Brock.

  “Ask me again when I remember how to breathe.”

  Kyle pushed away from the wall and gave Brock’s ass a gentle pat as he passed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kyle wrapped the condom in a plastic bag then tucked it into the side pocket of his pack before wandering back to the falls for a cursory wash. He picked up the T-shirt he’d discarded earlier and dipped a corner in the water, then wrung it out. He strolled back to where Brock was climbing shakily to his feet. Kyle pressed against him from behind and stretched his arms around Brock’s waist.

  “Here, let me clean you up a bit.”

  Brock grabbed his wrist and guided the damp cloth to the sticky bits on his skin. “Thanks. I think you broke my ass.”

  Kyle chuckled. “You’re tough. It’ll take a bit more than a firm fucking to break you.”

  “If that’s what you call firm, I dread to think what an aggressive pounding will feel like,” Brock said. He spun around in Kyle’s arms and gave him a brief kiss.

  “Dread or crave?” Kyle asked, then watched with interest as a pink flush spread along Brock’s cheekbones. “I think there’s a pain slut hiding beneath that pretty exterior.”

  Brock grunted but didn’t reply. He took Kyle’s hand and pulled him toward the fire.

  “I know it’s warm, but I need to sit by the fire and let you pamper me. Well, feed me at the very least.”

  To Kyle’s disappointment, Brock pulled a fresh pair of cargoes from his pack and slipped them on. Kyle scowled. Brock rolled his eyes.

  “My tender little behind needs at least one layer between it and the rock floor, so you can stop pouting.”

  “I don’t pout,” Kyle grunted. “And I’ll be seeing it again before the evening’s out. I can guarantee it.” He found some fresh clothes and dressed swiftly. Brock raised an eyebrow and smirked.

  “If I’m cooking, it’s in your interest that my best bits are protected from stray sparks, okay?” Kyle wondered why he felt the need to justify his actions. It wouldn’t have occurred to him to explain to anyone else.

  “I didn’t say a word!” Brock held his hands up.

  “Didn’t need to. Now make yourself useful and build up the fire a bit. We’ve been away from it for too long.” Kyle moved the billycan he had filled earlier closer to the flames. “Another couple of minutes and this will be hot enough for coffee.”

  “Excellent. I seem to have worked up quite a thirst for some reason.” Brock brought an armful of wood across from where he’d stacked it against the cave wall. “This should keep it going for a while. It’s good that the cave is high enough for the smoke to be distributed and there’s plenty of ventilation.”

  “That’s great. Thanks. Once we’ve eaten, I’ll bank it up enough so that it lasts the night,” Kyle said. “I think the folding cups and ration packs are in your bag. The coffee is in mine. Can you get them?”

  Within a minute they were both making pleased moaning sounds over mugs of steaming black coffee.

  “Oh, that’s good.” Kyle breathed in the aroma. “It was definitely worth going to the effort of buying the local ground stuff. You’ll never drink it any fresher than this.”

  “I may get withdrawal symptoms. I’ve never tasted anything like it. I’m so pleased you thought to pack it. Makes me wonder what other goodies are hidden in that bottomless bag of yours.” Brock shifted his bare feet nearer the fire and wiggled his toes. “This feels like a boys’ own adventure and I’d prefer it if reality stayed away a bit longer.”

  Kyle focused on heating their evening meal of reconstituted chicken supreme and rice. He didn’t want to think about the real world either. Tucked behind the waterfall in the middle of nowhere, it was easy to forget. Time alone with Brock was a luxury that would be very difficult to give up. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Brock flexing his injured hand.

  “As soon as we’ve eaten I’ll check that cut and re-dress it. Does it hurt?” Kyle said.

  “Aches a bit and it’s bleeding a little. Think I opened it pushing against the rock earlier.” Brock grinned. “And that was definitely worth it.”

  “Even so, there’s a significant risk of infection out here and I have no intention of carrying you out if you get sick.” Kyle stirred the bubbling food a little harder than necessary. Any thought of Brock getting hurt sent sharp stabbing pains through his gut. “I think this poor imitation of food is about ready.” He doled two portions into bowls and handed one to Brock. “Tuck in. This stuff usually tastes better than it looks.” He gave the contents of his own bowl a dubious glance. “Of course, this resembles regurgitated crap, so that’s not much of a challenge.”

  Brock giggled in a way that made him sound very young. He closed his eyes, wrinkled his nose and shoved a forkful of food into his mouth. He chewed slowly. His face relaxed and his pretty blue eyes blinked open.

  “It’s not bad at all. I don’t know how much actual chicken there is in this, but it’s got me fooled.”

  Kyle shook his head. “Fuck, you’re easily pleased.” He ate his own food with a grimace.

  Brock scraped out his dish and put it to one side. “I may not have very discerning taste buds, but I am fussy about other things.”

  “Like what?” Kyle took the bait.

  “Men, of course.”

  “Of course.” Kyle wondered where the conversation would lead. “We’re not going to compare ex-boyfriend counts, are we?”

  Brock laughed. He went and fetched their sleeping mats from where Kyle had rolled them out and he laid them next to each other. “No, of course not.” He started to collect the dirty dishes. “You cooked, so I’ll clean up. I’ll go and rinse these out.”

  Kyle couldn’t help but admire the lean lines of Brock’s bare chest as he walked away. The man had a stunning body with the power to inflate Kyle’s cock every time he rested his eyes on golden skin and flexing muscle.

  “Get a grip, Kyle. There’s a bit more at stake here than your over-excited libido.” He banked the fire and used a twig to tidy up a few stray embers, then moved across to the sleeping mats. The shaped pads weighed a mere fifteen ounces and packed down to a compact volume. Kyle knew from experience that the internal air baffles and reflective barriers kept the user nearly as warm as a propane heater.

  “Technology,” he muttered, stretching out on one of th
e pads. “Fucking amazing.”

  “Now you’re the one talking to yourself. Is it my turn to be worried?” The amusement in Brock’s voice made Kyle smile. Brock’s cheek would have to be punished, of course. He couldn’t allow his future submissive to get too bold. His fingers clenched into a fist of their own volition as Kyle’s brain registered that he had just assumed that there would be a future for him and Brock.

  “Maybe. Why don’t you come here and find out?” He patted the mat next to him. “Bring the first-aid kit. I want to deal with that hand before I deal with you.”

  For a moment Kyle thought that Brock might tell him to fuck off. His expression implied that he wanted to. Kyle kept his gaze steady and schooled his features into a careful, emotionless blank. He wondered if he should have given Brock a little more time to assess his feelings after being taken so assertively. He fought my hold, but I know he wanted it. He couldn’t stop me and he enjoyed that feeling, I know he did. Kyle decided to go with his gut.

  “I said come here, Brock. Do as you’re told or I will put you across my knee and spank what I’m sure is a very sore ass.”

  Brock’s lips twitched as if he was fighting back a smile but Kyle’s words motivated him to move.

  “A spanking is one indignity I’m not prepared to tolerate just at the moment.”

  He walked across and knelt on the second mat, holding out his injured hand. Kyle frowned as he took in the bloody bandage. He unwrapped it with care and examined the wound.

  “Hmm. It needs to be stitched or it’s going to keep pulling open. It’s in such an awkward place, movement is unavoidable. It’s a little red, but I don’t think there’s any infection.”

  Brock trembled. “I don’t recall passing a handy casualty unit, so it’s not going to get stitched any time soon, is it?”

  “Yes it is. There are surgical needles and sterile thread in the first-aid kit.”

  Brock’s face blanched to bone white. “I don’t even want to know what scenarios you were imagining when you packed a surgical kit, and if you have a scalpel in there, don’t tell me.”