Lying Eyes

by Robert Winter

  “In Jean-Pierre’s correspondence to François from the summer of 1878,” he continued eagerly, “I found a reference to a landscape that he’d undertaken, in which the ruins of the abbey at Chaalis were to figure prominently. The abbey was to be silhouetted by the sunrise. He wrote again to François as the painting progressed that summer, but he was deeply dissatisfied with the work. That was true of many of his paintings, of course. Brousseau’s depression—”

  “Jack.”

  “Ah. I beg your pardon for the school master tone.” Randy nodded, and Jack continued. “From the letters, it seems clear that Jean-Pierre did in fact complete the canvas, yet no reference to a painting of the sunrise at Chaalis exists in the official catalogues. Nevertheless, I identified in François’s papers a reference to a sale in 1901 of a work whose description corresponds to that of the canvas in Jean-Pierre’s letter. I’ll spare you the gory details, but I have painstakingly assembled a compelling paper trail to demonstrate that the landscape Jean-Pierre described to François was the same one sold in 1901, and thence, quite possibly, ultimately to you four years ago.”

  “Or to someone in Philadelphia,” Randy observed.

  “Ye-e-s,” Jack agreed reluctantly as he shifted a little on his knees. “There remain a few candidates besides your painting. The images I have been able to assemble are sufficiently ambiguous and of such low quality that I cannot be entirely certain without studying the work itself.”

  Jack’s eyes were almost closed, and something like a religious fervor shone on his face. “I’ve been to the location in Fontaine that Jean-Pierre described, and I’ve seen the ruined monastery at Chaalis. I believe I stood on the very ground where Brousseau rested his easel to paint the sunrise.”

  If Randy had thought Jack handsome before, now he found him transcendent. The yearning he displayed, the glow of scholarship, the deep feeling with which he was finally sharing his hard-won secrets, all put Randy under his spell.

  Jack continued in a reverential tone apropos to his position on his knees. “I took photos from the spot. I hope that by connecting the landscape with the physical details of Brousseau’s setting, and by performing certain tests, I can prove that your Sunrise painting, if it’s the right one, is indeed the work Jean-Pierre wrote about to François and called Sunrise at the Abbey of Chaalis.”

  The triumphant note in Jack’s pronouncement resonated in Randy’s chest. He was quiet but expectant, apparently longing for a response. Randy could only stare at him intently. His own breath sounded hoarse as his desire swelled. He wanted to know more, certainly, but there would be time.

  Ideas and fantasies flickered through Randy’s head as he drew on his experience, to be what Jack needed. To be worthy of the trust gifted to him. That yearning had less to do with the possibility that he might own a valuable painting than with the man who knelt before him. At the moment, he was more drawn to Jack than anyone in years. His passion for his work, for art, for making connections, touched that place inside Randy that Uncle Kevin had noticed and nurtured.

  He longed for his painting to be the one Jack sought, because he wanted to be there for the man’s triumph. Jack would glisten when he proved beyond a doubt that he’d found an unknown work by the master Jean-Pierre Brousseau. He would shine with an inner fire, and Randy needed to see that moment.

  “What do you want tonight? What did you come here for?” Randy played with all the colors of his voice, reaching for that low throb that would take Jack deeper.

  Jack licked his lips slowly, then met Randy’s eyes. “I came here for you, though I didn’t know it.” Randy waited him out until he said, “Please. Help me fly.”

  Randy said, “Come here” in a gruff tone edged by his own excitement. Jack’s eyes widened as his body responded to the command. He unfolded himself until he was on his feet again, then crossed to stand before Randy. His arms hung at his sides, but his shoulders squared proudly as he waited. Randy rose from the couch to tower above Jack, registering with satisfaction the way his mouth slackened and the lids of his eyes drooped. Not only was Randy a half-foot taller, but his wide shoulders and thick body made Jack’s slender form seem delicate. Not feminine, but perfectly in contrast to Randy’s own.

  Randy’s pulse raced, and the hair on his arms and chest felt charged with static electricity. He knew he was flushed as his blood pounded to mirror the excitement in Jack. Randy grew more determined to protect and guide, to shelter him from the world long enough to explore who he really was.

  He grasped the strap of the harness where it lay across Jack’s sternum, tugging him forward. He wove his other hand through Jack’s richly colored hair, then leaned down to claim his mouth. Jack’s lips were relaxed and inviting, and he opened quickly to allow Randy’s tongue to explore. Heat arced through him like a comet from his toes to the top of his head. He had never felt so powerful, and as he tightened his grip in Jack’s hair, he heard an answering moan. Jack rubbed his leather-covered erection against Randy’s hip as they kissed, but he made no move to put his own arms around Randy. He just waited, loose and willing, for Randy to do anything to him that he wanted.

  And Randy found he wanted to do a great many things, both to and for Jack. Breaking the kiss, he leaned back and stared until Jack opened his eyes as if from a daze. He finally allowed himself to stroke that soft, thick beard, and it felt like mink under his fingers.

  “You trust me,” Randy said seriously. It wasn’t a question but Jack nodded. “Keep trusting me. I won’t abuse it. Give me your safe words.”

  Jack seemingly had to drag himself back to be present. “Wha…? Oh. Rothko to slow. Pollack to stop.”

  Randy laughed softly. “Not a fan of the abstractionists, are you?” He couldn’t help himself; he ran his fingers again along the soft beard at his jaw and confessed, “I think I’m going to adore you.”

  He didn’t even wait for an answer, but stroked the leather harness before wrapping his fingers around the straps that framed the pectorals. He began to alternately push and pull with the harness until Jack swayed, slack and pliant. When Randy was satisfied, he unsnapped the top button of Jack’s pants and stroked his gloved hand down the concealed shaft before grasping his balls firmly.

  “Take these off, fold them neatly, and face the door,” Randy rumbled, smiling at the speed with which he was obeyed. Jack set aside his shoes, socks, and folded pants—no underwear, Randy noted with pleasure—before returning to stand at attention as directed, with his feet slightly spread for balance.

  Naked other than the harness, Jack was alabaster pale and wiry, but his body needed an additional touch of leather to underscore its natural beauty. Randy removed the band from his own thick wrist and snapped it in place just above Jack’s right bicep. Perfect.

  “This is yours to keep,” he said, then wrapped his big arms around Jack and held him tightly through another blistering kiss. His lips were still soft and pliant but his grip on Randy’s back was greedy.

  “Fold your hands behind your head,” Randy ordered when he stepped back from the kiss. Jack obeyed and quivered as Randy circled his body to examine it minutely.

  His dick was long and thin, flushed red and with a slight downward curve in the last inch. The head glistened with precome, and the hair around it seemed as silky as Jack’s beard. His sac hung full and loose.

  Randy surveyed his prize, running one hand along a lean and lightly haired chest, then over tight arms. Jack was toned from, at a guess, many hours of yoga or Pilates. The muscles of his back rippled down to meet the high curve of his ass. Below the pale, firm globes were the ropey legs of a runner.

  Randy stopped behind him, then brushed his fingertips down the indentation along his right ass cheek. He repeated the move with the palm of his leather glove, gauging the shiver that ran through Jack’s flanks as he stroked. He paused until Jack tensed, then pulled back his hand to give him a swift spank. The crack echoed in the room as he gasped. Randy did the same with the other cheek and watched in satis
faction as the pale skin took on a slight pink color. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

  He wrapped fingers through the harness strap on the shoulder and snaked the other hand forward around his waist to pull Jack back against his own body until he sagged against Randy’s erection and heavy muscles. He lowered his hands from behind his head to clasp Randy’s forearm at his waist. His spare body felt tight and solid in Randy’s arms.

  Randy bent his head and breathed into Jack’s ear, “Tonight, this is yours.” He crouched so he could rub his still-covered cock up and down the crease of his bare ass. In answer, Jack groaned and pressed back against him. Randy grabbed his dick roughly. “And this is mine.” He spun Jack around by the harness, then pressed on his shoulder until he sank to his knees once more. Randy spread his stance slightly, then put his fists on his hips. “Suck my cock.”

  Jack reached up with shaking hands to undo his pants and peel the leather down his thighs to below his knees. Randy’s heavy package stretched the mesh pouch of his jockstrap, and Jack leaned forward to rub his cheek against the black fabric. He inhaled deeply. Randy slipped the pouch to one side so his thick cock and big balls were exposed, then again wove his hand into Jack’s hair.

  He tightened the grip slightly as he pulled Jack forward and rubbed his erection against the soft beard that graced his cheeks. The silky hair against the fevered skin of his dick was tantalizing, and sliding against it did strange things to Randy’s stomach. A curl of something deep and wonderful tickled and spread warmth through his belly and built to an ache in his chest.

  Randy angled his hips differently to brush the head across the seam of his lips until Jack opened his mouth and stuck out his flattened tongue He rested the head of his cock on it and stayed still as Jack licked and loved the glans. He tugged forward until Jack brought his lips into play as well, mouthing and cleaning the plum-sized head as he peered up to meet Randy’s eyes.

  When he tried to take more into his mouth, Randy held him back with his hair. He made shallow thrusts, then dragged his frenulum across the lower lip, pleasantly torturing both of them. Jack’s eyes glinted as he lightly grasped the head by closing his teeth wickedly behind the flared ridge.

  He didn’t scrape, but pressed just enough to make Randy freeze. He worked his clever tongue against the captured head, stroking the underside and teasing the slit until Randy growled his frustration.

  Jack chuffed slightly in amusement as he resheathed his teeth and opened wide. The next time, Randy let him tilt forward and slowly bring more cock into his mouth. Jack moaned around him, sending a shiver up Randy’s spine. Spit leaked out of the corners of his mouth as he sucked harder and deeper, acting desperate to bring Randy off. Only about half of his length went in, though, so Randy grabbed his hair again and tugged slightly, encouraging Jack to push past his barriers.

  “Let me in your throat,” he urged. “Swallow around the head of my dick.” He pressed forward again but relented at the first sign of gagging. “Good man. Try again. You can do it.” Jack renewed his efforts with determination, bobbing his head, swallowing audibly as he tried to get Randy deeper. Drool dripped from the corner of his mouth as he manfully ate more and more of Randy’s dick.

  Vibration mixing with the noises of excitement coming from below drew Randy’s attention down the length of the body before him, to where Jack tugged and jerked on his cock. Randy barked, “No. You come when I say, not before.”

  Jack moaned, but released his rigid dick and grabbed handfuls of Randy’s ass to leverage himself farther onto his erection. His eyes were open and focused on Randy’s, seeming to beg for his approval. His red lips stretched around the wet and shiny dick as it slid in and out of his mouth.

  Finally, Jack took it all: the strap around the base of Randy’s shaft met his lips, and the muscles in his throat contracted and massaged the head until Randy knew he was likely to come. If he were still thirty—hell, even forty—he’d spill in Jack’s mouth and then again in his ass twenty minutes later. Sadly, even as turned on as he was, that kind of performance was in his past.

  Reluctantly, he grabbed Jack by the ears and stilled his head. Jack protested with a moan, but let Randy pull back and draw out of his mouth slowly, trails of spit glistening in the low light of the club room. His dick pulsed threateningly as he let it bob in the air before the slack mouth.

  “Jack.” This time it was a command, not a warning, and eyes snapped up to Randy’s face. He dropped his hands to clasp them behind his own back. Randy grunted approvingly; it was a nice display of submission. “Strip me.”

  Still on his knees, Jack raised Randy’s left leg to remove a boot, then the right. He finished peeling down Randy’s leather pants, folded those neatly, and set them aside. He slid his hands up the sides of Randy’s thighs until his fingers slipped under the leg straps of his jock, then the waist band. Carefully so as not to get the mesh caught on Randy’s equipment, he lowered the jock and waited until Randy stepped out of it.

  He remained on his knees, eyes on the prominently displayed meat before his face. Randy was left with just his gloves, his arm band, and his cockstrap as the emblems of his role. Normally he needed more gear to help him meet his partner’s desires and expectations for an evening. With Jack, what he still wore was enough because the role was more real than ever before.

  Jack waited on his knees with his spine erect, but his eyes were glazed with desire. “You’re doing well,” Randy purred and ran a hand over that soft beard again and along his jaw. Given the opportunity, he’d prefer to take him to the brink again and again with hands and mouth before moving to other pleasures, but he was vaguely aware their time together was limited. That being the case, he wanted inside Jack at least once so he rumbled out, “Get me ready to fuck you.”

  He saw a flash of concern as Jack contemplated Randy’s thick cock leaking just inches from his face. Finally, Jack spoke up. “I’ve, uh, rarely… And never one this size.”

  Randy crooked a finger under his chin and tilted up his head. He bent over until he was inches from Jack’s face. “I have you. When I tell you you’re ready for my dick, you will take it. Because I want to fuck your perfect ass. Is that understood?”

  Jack nodded, and Randy watched his concern give way to lust and a determination to please. Again he climbed gracefully to his feet and looked around until Randy indicated his folded pants with a nod. He reached into the pocket to find lubricant and a few condoms, selected one, opened the foil packet, added a single drop of lube to the inside, and then unrolled the latex down Randy’s length. When Randy was suited up, Jack poured more lube into his hand and stroked up and down to get him slick. Then he waited nervously.

  Randy grasped his harness and tugged him slightly off balance and into his arms. “Give me your weight. Good. Now, press two fingers against the rim of your ass.” Jack put one arm around Randy’s waist and reached the other back behind himself and began to stroke. “That’s right. Rub in small circles. It’s good, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir,” he muttered, his words heavy and thick like molasses. His face rubbed against Randy’s muscled and hairy chest like a cat marking its scent.

  “Now, press them inside.” Jack groaned as he obeyed. “Hold still for a minute. Enjoy your own warmth.”

  “It’s… I’m throbbing. My arsehole is pulsing.”

  “Good. Now begin to move them around inside.” Randy wrapped a hand around the back of Jack’s neck and brought their heads together to meet in another blistering kiss. He thrust his tongue in and out of his mouth in a fucking rhythm and Jack caught on. He began moving the fingers in his ass in time to Randy’s demands, in and out, in and out. When Randy was satisfied with the noises tumbling from his throat, he wrapped his other arm around his waist to immobilize him, dragging him tightly against his body.

  The lean muscle against his own chest and stomach was cool and firm and he swelled with pride. Never had Randy been so strong and capable as a top man. All of his years and all of his partners, g
ood and bad, glimmered in his memory because they let him be what Jack needed that night. He stood as a sentinel, sheltering Jack’s body and his fears and his mystery from the judgmental world outside the room and beyond the club.

  Randy kept rein on the energy and control Jack had gifted to him, using kisses and a tight grip as he gradually sagged and gave himself to Randy. Jack’s drop to sub space on their first and possibly only time together was unprecedented in Randy’s experience, but he rolled with it, allowing him to drift downward like a leaf.

  When it seemed Randy was the only thing holding Jack up, he used his grip on the harness to turn his body around and guide him toward the chair on which his vest was draped. “Bend over and grab the rungs,” Randy ordered. “Spread your legs.”

  Jack complied, and Randy ran a hand down his back, then over the swell of his ass. “I can’t wait to be inside here,” he murmured as he pressed a thumb to his opening. It was spongy and relaxed. Well, as relaxed as it could be given what was about to happen, but Randy sensed no doubt, only slight apprehension.

  “You’re ready,” he said, and Jack nodded slowly, as if mesmerized. “Breathe with me. Smell the leather from my vest. Let it anchor you. This is going to hurt for just a little while, but then it will be good, I promise. Better than good.”

  Randy gripped Jack’s hips, lined up his dick and applied just enough pressure that Jack would know he was there at his entrance. He took a loud, deliberate breath in through his nose and let it flow out of his mouth. Jack mirrored his breathing. After three deep breaths, Randy pressed forward.

  Jack was tight and he was thick, but suddenly he was through the ring of muscle and the head of his cock was encased in warmth. Jack hissed slightly and his head drooped. Randy paused and said, “Embrace the burn. Feel me inside you.” His breath was ragged at first, then grew steadier.