Dilly and Boz

by John Inman

  Advancing to the edge of the escarpment that marked the boundary of Morley Field, Bobby stood shielded by the broad leaves of a fan palm, the blades of which twitched and rustled in the hot breezes blowing in from the desert to the east. Staring out over the trails below, and across Florida Canyon beyond that, he could just make out the main gates of the San Diego Zoo. On this sweltering summer morning, hordes of tourists, already melting from the heat, were lining up, jockeying for position, aching for their first glimpses of the poor sweltering creatures inside.

  Stupid tourists. Bobby sneered at their exuberance. Crazy fucks were paying twenty bucks a head to look at a bunch of animals. Meanwhile all the animals were lying half-dead from the heat in their concrete pens, staring back at the tourists and wishing they could rip them to bloody shreds.

  Currently, Bobby had his own animals to gawk at, and it wasn’t costing him a nickel.

  Boz and his new boyfriend—the little geek with black hair and busted glasses—were down on a side trail, picking up other people’s trash. What the hell was that all about?

  Bobby had cased Boz’s cottage enough to know he was rarely home anymore. A little stalking, a little snooping, and the mystery was cleared up quite nicely, thank you very much. Boz had a new friend, and judging by their joint sleeping arrangements, they were fucking each other’s brains out every night of the week, either at Boz’s place, or in the crappy apartment across the street where the geek lived.

  Only the night before, Bobby had stood in the courtyard of the geek’s apartment complex, staring at the darkened windows, knowing Boz was inside. Imagining what Boz was doing. And what the little geek was doing to Boz. It used up most of his willpower not to kick the door down and drag Boz away. Who did he think he was anyway? Did he really think Bobby would let him keep this up? Throw his new fuckmate in Bobby’s face? Act like he didn’t care that Bobby was still in love with him?

  Jesus, Bobby had apologized a million times for smacking him around. And that last time, when Bobby fucked Boz when Boz didn’t want to be fucked, you’d have thought Bobby did something he had never done a hundred times before. Was Boz’s ass sacred ground all of a sudden? Nobody knew better than Bobby how much Boz liked a big dick burrowing through him. And Boz really doubted if the little geek had much of a dick on him at all. So what the hell was the attraction?

  Bobby stood among the blades of the fan palm and watched the two men down below on the trail. Boz and the little prick with the broken glasses. When they stopped and turned to face each other, Bobby hitched in a tiny breath. When Boz pulled the guy close and kissed him, Bobby’s fury swelled inside him. He slipped a hand down inside the front of his pants and grasped his cock. He was hard as a rock. Not from the sight of the two faggots down below, but from the meth. As always, the drug made him ache for sex. Constantly. Seeing Boz and the geek wrapped in each other’s arms made the ache all that much worse.

  Bobby stroked his long cock, and his knees almost buckled. His balls roiled with the need to come. He wondered what it would be like to teach the little geek a lesson. Catch him on his own. Corner him in his own apartment. Rip off his clothes. And fuck him to within an inch of his life. Or maybe go ahead and take that last inch too. Kill the little bastard. Strangle him while he lay impaled on Bobby’s dick. Give him the best and the worst of both worlds at the same time.

  That thought brought a grin to Bobby’s face. He snapped the button on his slacks, pulled down the zipper, and freed his engorged cock into the summer heat. Spreading his legs to brace himself, he took a firmer grip on his dick and stroked it faster. The sensation was so overwhelming, Bobby closed his eyes and lost himself in the buildup to his own release.

  Yes, he would teach Boz and the geek both a lesson. Nobody turned their back on Bobby Mayfield. Nobody threw Bobby Mayfield’s love back in his face. Or stole Bobby Mayfield’s boyfriend out from under his nose.

  Bobby thought back to all the times Boz had given himself to Bobby. All the times Boz couldn’t get enough of what Bobby had to offer. How Boz would drink him down like a milkshake, or open his ass to let Bobby plumb its depths with his pounding cock.

  The last thought was too much. Bobby clenched his teeth. At the last moment, he opened his eyes to stare down at his dick, savoring the sight of his thick, hot seed spilling out into the morning air. He gave a tiny inadvertent cry of joy. And while his heart beat like cannon fire and his cock continued to drip the last drops of come onto the toe of his shoe, Bobby refocused his eyes on the two young men on the trail below. They were walking again. Holding hands. He could see their smiles and knew they were laughing, but he couldn’t hear them. Didn’t know what they were finding so fucking funny. All he could hear was his own heartbeat. He stared down at the splash of come across the back of his hand, and without thinking, brought it to his mouth and licked it away. As Boz would once have done.

  Giving his depleted cock a final shake to dislodge the last few drops of come, he slipped it back in his pants and zipped himself up. On wobbly legs, he sniffed and spat a glob of phlegm over the escarpment, as if he hadn’t spread enough bodily fluids there already. Satisfied, he turned and walked away. Back to his car. Back to his miserable life.

  Why are you making me do this, Boz? Why?

  If he could have stepped back and witnessed it from afar, even Bobby Mayfield might have been surprised to see the hatred burning in his eyes at that moment. And by the rising need for sex that was building in him already, even as his cock still seeped from his last explosive come fest.

  Fucking meth.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ANGEL LAY naked on the bed, feeling both exposed and aroused. His uncut cock lay hard across his stomach. Bobby sat in a chair by the side of the bed staring at him.

  “Touch yourself,” Bobby said, and Angel gripped his dick with a trembling hand.

  “Stroke it,” Bobby said. “Slowly. I want to watch.”

  So Angel did as he was told. A sheen of liquid instantly appeared, glistening atop the shiny head of his penis. With his free hand, Angel dipped his finger in the smear of fluid and brought it to his lips. His eyes never once left Bobby’s face. Exhilaration built in Angel when Bobby began to peel off his clothes as he sat in the chair. When he was naked but for the socks on his feet, Bobby leaned back and watched Angel pleasure himself.

  By this time Bobby’s massive dick was as hard as stone, and Angel couldn’t take his eyes off it. Bobby, on the other hand, seemed to ignore his own erection. There was an empty fury in his eyes that Angel had only seen there a few times before. He knew what that fury meant, of course. For one thing, it meant Angel was about to get the fucking of his life. That part thrilled him.

  The other reason for that angry light in Bobby’s eyes must be that Bobby had seen his old boyfriend today. The one he called Boz. Angel had never met Boz, had never seen a photograph of him. Still he hated him. He suspected that if it wasn’t for Boz, it would be Angel himself who held a place in Bobby’s heart. Until Bobby got over his feelings for Boz, Angel would never be anything but second choice.

  In the meanwhile, the fucking was good, so he supposed he couldn’t complain too much. At least Bobby still came to him when he needed sex, or when he needed to be with someone. In the grand scheme of things, that was far better than nothing.

  Bobby’s heavy cock stood proud between his legs, but still Bobby didn’t touch it. Feeling his own hunger grow, Angel continued to stroke himself even as he slid sideways in the bed until he could reach out and trail his fingertips across Bobby’s knee.

  At the first feel of Bobby’s flesh, Angel sucked in a gasp of air and stroked his cock with a new sense of urgency. Nothing turned him on like the feel of Bobby’s skin, the smell of Bobby’s sweat, the stabbing of Bobby’s cock tearing through him.

  He edged closer to the man sitting in the chair at the side of his bed. His fingertips slid through the hair on Bobby’s thigh. Removing his fingers from around his aching cock, he laid both hands to Bobby’s
knees now, and slowly moved them higher. At the junction of those beautiful strong legs, Angel cupped his fingers under Bobby’s heavy balls and hefted them gently in his hand. Mouth agape, Bobby sat quietly, watching every move he made.

  Angel slipped from the bed and crouched on the floor between Bobby’s legs. He pressed a kiss to the underside of Bobby’s ballsac, and Bobby’s legs opened wider.

  Angel stared up through the forest of pubic hair in front of him and caressed Bobby’s face with his eyes, even as his mouth suckled at the two tight mounds of flesh pressed against his lips. Bobby smelled of sweat and rampaging manhood, as he always did. He also smelled of the drugs he ingested into his system, and the never-ending cigarettes he smoked when he took the drugs. But tonight he smelled of something else too.

  He smelled of danger.

  And this turned Angel on more than everything else combined.

  Still, having sex with clean flesh was a little more enjoyable.

  “Would you like to shower?” he asked quietly.

  Bobby only snarled down at him. “I don’t clean myself up for people like you.”

  Angel nodded; he’d expected as much. He lifted the long weight of Bobby’s engorged cock, standing it upright, and rising higher on his knees, he laid the long shaft of rigid, ripe flesh to the side of his face.

  Still watching Bobby’s face, Angel whispered, “You saw your friend today.”

  Bobby’s eyes were closed now. He didn’t answer. At last he seemed to be enjoying Angel’s attentions, and that pleased Angel. Still, Angel knew he was pushing his luck. Bobby didn’t like it when Angel talked about Boz. Bobby didn’t like it when he caught a glimpse of Angel’s jealousy.

  Angel’s lips pressed a kiss to the underside of the bulbous head of Bobby’s cock. The shaft of flesh twitched in response, and Angel smiled.

  “You should forget about him, Bobby. He doesn’t love you anymore. Not like I do.”

  At that, Bobby opened his eyes. The fury Angel saw there startled him. The cock was wrenched away from him as Bobby hurled himself to his feet. He stood over Angel, and the trembling of his legs now had nothing to do with desire.

  “I’ve told you before,” Bobby snapped, his voice as brittle as ice, “I never want to hear his name coming out of your mouth. And I really don’t care how you feel about me. Do you understand that?”

  “I-I’m sorry.”

  Bobby’s two broad hands reached down and roughly grasped Angel’s hair. Angel cried out when Bobby used his hair to yank him to his feet.

  “That hurts,” Angel tried to say, but Bobby ignored him, flinging him backward onto the bed.

  After straddling Angel’s small body and lowering his bare ass onto Angel’s chest to hold him down, Bobby grasped Angel’s arms and splayed them high over his head. With the cords he had used so many times before, Bobby tied Angel’s wrists to the corners of the headboard, leaving Angel’s legs free as he always did. And Angel knew why. As his wrists were tied, Bobby’s long cock brushed and bobbed across Angel’s face.

  A hungry smile twisted Angel’s mouth as he tried to capture Bobby’s cock between his lips, but Bobby moved too fast.

  As soon as Angel was securely tied, Bobby lifted himself off the bed and stood at the foot of it, staring down.

  “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” Bobby asked, his eyes cold. His words tight.

  “Yes,” Angel stammered, his much smaller dick still aching for some attention of its own. Sometimes Bobby took him into his mouth. Maybe tonight would be one of those times.

  But it was not to be.

  “It’s the pain you like, isn’t it?” Bobby asked quietly, his words seething.

  The new fury in Bobby’s eyes left Angel speechless, and for one of the few times, truly frightened. Still he nodded. Because he did like the pain. At least the sexual pain. The pain from flying fists was another matter altogether.

  And finally, watching Angel strapped to the bed, naked, nodding his head, Bobby at long last smiled.

  “Good,” Bobby said, leaning down and roughly squeezing Angel’s balls, eliciting a groan. “You’re going to feel a lot of it.”

  As the sunlight streamed in through the bedroom window, and the closeted Santa Ana air lay thick and stifling across the room, Angel let the hands he loved do what they would.

  When the pain came, it was exquisite.

  For a while.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ANOTHER WEEK passed. During that week, as in all the weeks before, Boz awoke every morning with Dilly at his side, either in one place of residence or the other. This morning he opened his eyes in Dilly’s Murphy bed with Dilly snoring softly at his side. The sun was up, barely, and the gray of another cool Santa Ana dawn had chased the shadows of night from the tiny apartment, although the heat was already climbing. Boz could hear Leon and Grace chasing each other around in the kitchen. Boz groaned. He was so comfortable, but in a few minutes he would have to get up, throw some clothes on, and take Leon for a walk.

  He turned his eyes to Dilly and found himself being watched. As always, without his glasses on, Dilly’s face had a bare innocence to it. It looked fragile and exposed. And even with puffy eyes and bed hair, and a fold in his pillow leaving a crease across his cheek, Dilly was so handsome it took Boz’s breath away.

  “I thought you were asleep,” Boz murmured, croaky from sleep.

  A lazy smile touched Dilly’s mouth. “I was. Now I’m not.”

  Simultaneously, the two scooted closer in the bed. Arms reached out from both sides, anchoring them together. Boz gave a tiny shiver at the feel of Dilly’s sleep-warm fingers nestling at his waist.

  He remembered last night.

  “I never thought I’d want to do that again,” Boz softly said.

  Dilly’s eyes had not wavered from Boz’s face. “Actually, I never thought you would either. Not after what happened to you before. With that guy.”

  “You mean with Bobby. You don’t have to be afraid to say his name. And you don’t have to be afraid to say what he did to me either. He raped me. And you’re right. I never thought I’d want to do it again either. Last night changed my mind.”

  “Tell me I didn’t hurt you, Boz.”

  At that, Boz smiled and snuggled closer as Dilly’s velvet fingers stroked his hip. “You didn’t hurt me. It was wonderful. I’ve never been taken so gently.”

  A hint of worry crossed Dilly’s face. “Sometimes being gentle isn’t really what we want. If I don’t do things the way that pleases you most, you’d tell me, right?”

  Boz studied Dilly’s eyes, seeing the tenderness and the uncertainty burning there in their chocolate depths. He lifted his hand and ran the back of his fingers along Dilly’s cheek where the crease was slowly fading. Dilly’s eyelashes dipped as if he enjoyed the touch. The look of uncertainty faded, and Boz was glad to see it go. “Gentleness was exactly what I needed last night. You were perfect, baby. Honest, Dilly. You were absolutely perfect.”

  Silence fell as Boz, and maybe Dilly too, thought back to the night before. How Dilly had led him oh so carefully into the first round of anal sex Boz had attempted since Bobby raped him. The gentle way Dilly used his mouth and tongue to moisten his fragile opening. By the time Dilly finished with that, Boz was chewing on his pillow and practically spitting feathers, it felt so good. Then came the careful easing of tightness with the insertion of first one finger, then two. Again, Dilly’s movements were so gentle and unhurried, Boz never felt an instant of either fear or pain.

  He squeezed his eyes shut now, remembering. How he had muttered, “Yes,” as he rolled into Dilly’s lap and taken him into his mouth, drawing him to hardness before rolling a condom down the length of Dilly’s cock. Throughout the entire procedure, Dilly watched Boz’s movements with bright lusting eyes. When the time was right, with Dilly’s urging, Boz rolled over onto his stomach again and opened his legs for Dilly, trembling with anticipation.

  Amid a slew of kisses across Boz’s shoulders
, Dilly had gently taken his position, and entered him slowly. His lips were on Boz’s ear as he whispered sweet words through his own gasping breath, clearly as turned-on as Boz had ever seen him. When Dilly’s stiff cock lay fully buried inside him, the shaft throbbing with the beat of his pounding heart, Boz emitted a tiny whimper of joy.

  Dilly froze then, and in a tone Boz had never heard him use before—a voice deeper and warmer than his usual voice—Dilly had asked if Boz was in pain.

  Boz had twisted his head around, seeking a kiss. As their lips came together, he muttered, “God no, baby. You’re not hurting me at all.”

  Reassured, they held the kiss as Dilly began to move again. Slowly at first, then with more abandon. And through every pulsing entrance of Dilly’s rigid cock into the core of him, Boz ached for it even more.

  At the moment of orgasm, Dilly wrapped his arms tightly around Boz, holding him close. He pressed his mouth to the back of Boz’s neck and, shuddering with pleasure, emptied himself into the condom. Simultaneously, Boz was so turned-on that his own seed exploded from him, soaking the sheets beneath. As their thudding hearts quieted, they continued to cling to each other for long moments. Boz remembered thinking it was the most astonishing climax they had experienced together. To think he could make Dilly so happy meant everything in the world to him.

  Staring at Dilly now in the light of this gray, silent morning, Boz deliberately closed his eyes, trapping all the memories inside. Boz edged near enough to Dilly that their foreheads touched.

  “I’ve never felt this close to you before,” he whispered in a voice still weak from sleep.

  “Me either,” Dilly whispered back. “You gave yourself to me completely last night. You trusted me.”

  Boz pressed a kiss to the arch of Dilly’s nose, right where the two dents from his glasses had left a permanent mark. “It’s funny, you know. You were right. I never thought I’d want sex that way again. But somehow with you, I knew I’d be safe. I knew you’d take care of me. And by the way, I don’t care how we do it. With you, every way is the right way, Dilly. Whatever it is you want, that’s what I want too. Never think you’re not pleasing me. Never think you’re not exactly what I need.”