Want

Several years ago I wrote a trilogy about Depeche Mode. This part, 'Want', is the second, from 2012. When I finished the first, 'SPAL (Sex. Pain. Angel. Love)', I thought that Alan's character was left uncovered, looking a typical anti-hero. But stereotypes are something I do not like, so I decided to show the situation described in SPAL from Alan's viewpoint: what and who he saw as right or wrong, with the benchmark switched.

2Likes
0Comments
1286Views
AA

7. Chapter 7

I want to remember when my nightmares were clearer.

“I love you, Dave,” Alan stated. “That`s my boy, Dave! Well done, old boy! You clever cookie! Dave, I guess I adore you!”
Dave was startled like hell, especially when Alan kissed him with all his heart, slavering both his cheeks. Right in the middle of the street where they met on their way to the studio.
“Does Martin know already?” Alan`s eyes were indecently shining with felicity.
“Nope,” Dave frowned instantly. “Don`t know how to tell him…”
“Oh, come on, you`ve already done everything,” Alan patted his shoulder. “It is as easy as pie to tell about it now.”
“Tell?!” Dave was terrified. “To tell Martin?! As easy as pie?!”
Alan started to laugh like a drain. Dave is such a Dave.
“Oh, my God, I am going crazy,” Dave said. “What if he gives me a punch in the eye?”
“I`ll ask him to be careful with your face. You are a frontman, and you kind of work with it!»
«Aw, thank you, Alan.” Alan didn`t get if it was a sarcasm or not because Dave`s face was very complicated. “Al, what if…what if it will be you who tells him?”
“That you are marrying? Oh, Dave, of course you will always have my strict “no” for that. Just because I`d rather see it from the outside,” Alan grinned. “Honestly, I`d even sell a pair of tickets to this show!”
“Asshole,” Dave murmured. “All you can do is make fun of your mate… Lend me a cigarette.”
“You`re old enough to have your own,” Alan retorted, making Dave wince - as each time when he borrowed a cigarette and Alan gave him a gentle reminder to leave the disastrous addiction. Of borrowing cigarettes. Although Alan held out the open pack. “Or it costs all your wedding budget?» 
  Alan intended to mock at Dave, but Dave just nodded sorrowfully:
“Money is extremely scarce now. I hope Miller pays us before we go to Berlin; I have no idea how I`m going to live there.”
  Alan decided not to ask what the hurry was for Dave to marry his playmate two days before leaving for Berlin to Hansa Studio. They should finish their album there, as was Daniel`s accountant`s idea. Well, it was Hansa`s accountant who wished to work for Daniel, actually, but it didn`t matter. Daniel was pretty sure that the new impressions would shake them all in a good way. From all those previous Dave vs. Martin hysterics he made a conclusion that the two warhorses had become restive and got frenzied from boredom and inability to use their folly to run riot. So, he decided that a new place to live, a new country, new impressions of Berlin would definitely help them to sublimate their foolishness into some socially useful activity. 
   No, Alan wouldn`t ask Dave why he couldn`t do that after the return from Berlin. He knew the reason better than the others. Dear God! He suspected that Dave would make this stunt, but he was surprised how soon and how easy he had made it. Alan expected Dave to try to make Martin come back to him, even in his awkwardly absurd manner, so he prepared himself for a long and exhausting struggle. But it was Dave: all or nothing! What, Martin is cheating on me? I`ll go and marry someone to annoy him! Get this clear! And let it be my lost! Ha-ha-ha! Well, actually Alan started feeling sorry; he didn`t expect Dave to lose so soon. What a pity! He was a nice adversary. Well, leastways, they could probably be friends now.
“Ah, come on, let`s move already!”
“Let`s go inside then, prom trotter.”
    Alan gave him a head start for five minutes, hanging his jacket and making tea. 
   Without any erotic prelude and foreplay Dave stated everything right from the doorway. He decided that if he didn`t do it now, he would rather go to Joanne to tell her that he’d changed his mind than tell Martin he was marrying. It didn`t matter that he hadn`t slept for a week; it didn`t matter that he had chewed off the fucking corner of his pillow not to cry like a girl. It didn`t matter that he felt betrayed and hated Martin more than ever. It didn`t matter that he had decided never to depend on the guy and never to sell his soul for his glance. It didn`t matter that he had made up his mind to prove himself worth something to Mart, and he wouldn`t die without him.
   Dave entered the room and saw Martin half-lying on the couch pillows with a cold cup of coffee that he was clutching with both hands like a little baby and staring bluntly at the wall, past Fletch, who was sitting near and reading a newspaper. Martin seemed to be absent from this dimension. Instantly, Dave`s resentment towards Martin started to look very insignificant. Especially now, in the studio warmth, when Martin was here, sleepy and so down-home, half-dressed and so his own one. Well, he`d made out with his ex, by force of habit – so what? We are all made from flesh and blood, so…shit happens! After all, they were both men, so…nothing to talk about. But Alan was menacingly rumbling with teacups downstairs, and Dave realized that he would look like a coward in Wilder`s eyes; and, well, if Martin cheated on him with some chick, that`d be ok but…with the friend of theirs! With Alan fucking Wilder! What a sacrilege and an outrage upon their friendship! So, Dave pushed this thought away with the unreal willpower of his. Alan was making his way up the stairs when Dave spitted out quickly in a fake joyful manner:
“Me and Joanne, we`re gonna marry this Sunday!”
   Martin didn`t move a muscle. He kept looking through Fletch as he was before, like nothing had happened.
“Such a good egg, Dave! OUR congratulations!” Fletch said without looking up.
  At that exact moment grinning Alan entered the room, holding a porcelain cup of steaming tea on a tea plate. 
“Good morning! The weather is just as perfect as the morning today, gentlemen,” he said as if he didn`t have a clue what was going on here. “The sodding rain is as cold as ice, and London will probably not see the sun earlier than next spring, and the day has been a buggery from the start. So, everything`s as always. Fine.”
“Good morning, dear Alan,” Fletch said, “the sun of ours. If it wasn`t for you, this day would be such a waste!”
   Martin shrugged and stared at Alan`s cup. It seemed that the movement attracted his attention.
“Martin,” Dave hissed through his teeth, “MARTIN!”
Martin tore his eyes off Alan`s cup with a visible effort and moved his stare to Dave`s eyes without blinking. 
“Martin?”
Martin was just staring. Fucking hell, why no matter how right he was he looked like an idiot, Dave thought.
“I invite you. Both.” Dave was drilling Martin with his eyes, searching for any kind of reaction.
“We will surely come, Dave,” Fletch said, “right, Mart?”
    Martin desperately yawned, hiding the yawn with his hand. Dave was expecting anything but such a cruel and  demonstrative I-don`t-give-a-fuck attitude from Martin. Well, Martin was a master of I Don`t Give a Fuck Attitude, but that day he outdid himself! Dave bumped the wall with his fist; fuck, he could barely hold himself from jumping on Martin to shake or beat the shit out of him, no matter what. How dared he be so laid-back, as if Dave`s personal life interested him no better than the one of a garden caterpillar!  
     Alan sat down into his armchair, putting his cup on the table and hiding his face with his palm, looking askance at the acting area. He was the second person in this room, probably, who was very interested in how Martin would play his part. Though, seeing Dave becoming irritated more and more and Martin`s imperturbable face, Alan was giggling to himself. He was right - it was a true show! 
“Has she caught a baby?” Fletch asked, because he suspected that something was wrong there and tried to defuse tension - well, as he could.
“No!” Dave cut off.
“Why all of a sudden then?” Fletch asked.
“It`s none of your business!” Dave was unexpectedly aggressive. 
Martin placed his cup on the coffee table, stood up stretching, then rubbed his jaw and headed for the door.
“I wish but I can`t go,” he said abruptly, passing Dave. The three lads gave a start as they didn`t hope to hear Martin`s voice that day already. “My doggy needs a vaccination.”
“Excuse me, WHAT? You can`t go to my wedding because your fucking doggy needs a fucking vaccination?!” Dave repeated slowly. Alan laughed up his sleeve. Fletch was looking with reproach, though it was not clear at whom.
   Martin deigned to reply. As always, he felt idiosyncratic to explain his actions or to defend himself. He clutched the door knob.
“Don’t-cha need to shave your cac-tus?” Dave was spitting bile.
“I will shave my everything without your advice, Dave,” Martin retorted quickly, shutting the door behind his back.
    Alan moaned with muffled rapture. Dave grabbed his cup and threw it with all his heart at the shut door, spilling tea all around and scattering the bits of porcelain all over the floor. Alan wanted to applaud, but his natural prudence reminded him that the tea plate was still on the table.
“That was my tea, Dave,” Alan tactfully specified. 
“WHAT FUCKING TEA?!” as tactful – well, as he always did - Dave asked.
“My fucking tea,” Alan repeated calmly. “Why did you throw my tea at the door, Dave? I haven`t made it to be fucked up. I`ve made it to drink. If I knew it was so necessary for you to throw some porcelain at the door, I`d make a tea for you too. Excuse me for my ignorance.”
“Ah, fuck. Sorry, Alan, sorry, old boy,” Dave seemed to have come to himself suddenly. “Fletch, don`t look at me that way!”
Fletch even took his glasses off. His face showed that he was eager to kill Dave.
“Okay, alright, I will put it up and clean everything up now!” Dave hurriedly grabbed a doorknob.
“FREEZE!” Andy roared in a thundering bass.
  Alan realized that it made sense because down there Martin was walking freely; therefore, they couldn`t let Dave out without a muzzle. Dave flinched and stopped.
“Go and sit with me, now!” Andy said in a metallic voice.
Dave took Martin`s place near Andy obediently, hugged the pillow which Martin was leaning against before, breathed in, and howled pitifully, exhaling.
   Andy went downstairs to take a mop and a scoop to remove the disaster from the floor.
“Do you think I`ve done everything right?” Dave asked in the unhappiest voice.
“Perfect. From my point of view, you were perfect,” Alan announced honestly. From his point of view, Dave couldn`t have done it any better. Was Dave seriously relying on him for that? “Thank you for everything you`ve done, Dave.”
“Wait, what do you mean thank you?” Dave`s face expressed a sheer surprise, but then he immediately frowned. “Shit,” he said.
      The moment of triumph changed into the total failure.

  ***

The day Х had come.
They were to leave for Berlin.
Accidentally, Andy had missed Dave`s marriage as well. They had got blindly drunk, all of them three, right before the flight, afraid that there would be no pubs in West Germany. Alan didn`t remember clearly how they got onto the plane, actually. He kept only one thought - not to forget his luggage, as well as Martin`s. Well, he hoped that Martin could care of it by himself.
“Hey, you, beloved mine, are you fucking aware where your bloody bag is and that you should go somewhere? Can you goddamn watch your own stuff?!”
“Fu-ucking cu-unt, I do-on`t give ah…shit!” Marin laughed out loud joyfully in answer; the thirteenth pint of beer was definitely excessive. 
“Clear enough.”
  Alan understood that he would have to deliver the body to Heathrow, and stopped asking Martin useless questions. The next thing he remembered was that he started to laugh like a madman at the airport when he saw sweaty Andy with tousled hair and his glasses crooked on his nose, who was pushing a cart, all doom and gloom, with his suitcase and Martin sleeping atop of it.
   Andy`s face was desperate; the boarding on their flight was almost over. Alan forgot where he had lost the lads - they had been together, and then the two disappeared. Alan started to feel nervous, but they appeared again. Well, Andy appeared, pushing the cart with Martin.
“Where have you been hanging around, you bastards?” Alan said thickly.
“All is lost!” Andy whispered loudly.
“What, Fletch?”
“Everything!” Andy said, terrified. “We are flying nowhere!”
“Are you insane, Fletch?”
“We are fucked up!”
“Fletch?!”
“Passport!” Fletch said. “We, Martin and I, can`t find his passport!”
Alan looked at Martin, who was sleeping like a baby, and expressed his doubts about Martin`s desire to help Fletch in his search for the passport. He actually expressed his doubts that Martin altogether gave a fuck where his passport was.
“Holy shit, what are we gonna do now? Miller will kill him!” Fletch started to wail. “We can`t get him aboard without the passport! Miller will beat us into a matzo!”
“He will. Both of you – honestly, you are worth it.” Alan giggled and pulled both passports out of his pocket. “But as you have me, we will take a ride…in this plane I mean…he-he-he.”
“Why do you have Martin`s passport?” Fletch looked at him wide-eyed; he definitely wanted to ask why Martin`s personal stuff was kept by Alan, but at that moment their names were called over the airport loudspeaker because they were the missing passengers.
“Oh, hell, we should hurry up now!” Fletch yelled. “Is there a way on earth we can make him stand upright?!” he meant Martin. 
“Check him as the luggage!” Alan said gloomily. But when Fletch understood him literally and started to push the cart away, he shouted:
“Oh, Fletch, for fuck`s sake! No! Just lift him somehow! Use me as a support to its…I mean, his vertical position while you`re checking our luggage! And hurry up, please!” 
   Just married Dave must have had a litter of kittens in the plane already about their absence. He was mad as a bear with a sore head. Firstly, for their ignoring the main event in his life so far. Well, Alan wanted to go, but by the time he recalled that he should go, they had all been too drunk, and Dave was probably sleeping like a log after the good workout on his wedding night. So, Alan decided not to go, Martin consistently didn`t give a fuck, and Andy did as Martin commanded. 
   This long and windy path to the plane Alan would never forget. He didn`t know that it could be so hard; he felt they had been walking for the whole hour. In sober fact, Martin wasn`t that heavy, not heavier than any girl, but Alan found it inappropriate and too risqué to carry the lad aboard in his arms; so, as he was leading him, Martin would fell down periodically. Finally they appeared before Dave`s black eyes burning indignantly - as they were, booze breathing: Andy with his crooked glasses (who broke them, Alan never understood clearly), and Alan himself, clutching Martin firmly at his waist as he was consistently drooping down. 
“What the fuck!?” their frontman was almost shrieking.
In answer, Alan dropped Martin occasionally onto the lap of some old lady in a cherry coat and with Queen Elizabeth`s hairstyle. Martin opened his eyes, stared at the lady, and asked sheepishly:
“Ex…excuse me…isn`t…it…too notice…notice…able…that I am drunk?”
“Oh, no, don’t say that! Not at all! ” Alan and Fletch assured him, taking him away from the lady`s lap. 
“Excuse us, madam!”
“For God`s sake, we are very sorry!”
“Alrighty then!” Martin said happily and fell down again, this time right between the rows of the seats.
    Alan took his seat, after having thrown, with the help of Fletch, their mate`s body onto the aisle seat on the second try, and was ready to give a prayer of thanks to God, although his parents had done a lot in his youth to take a wind off his sails to do that ever again.
    For Dave the final stroke of their departure from London was a cynically naturalistic picture: Alan sitting with his eyes shut, and…Martin curled up on the guy`s lap as trustfully as atop of Fletch`s suitcase before. Dave understood that if he didn`t buzz up like them, he wouldn`t reach his destination alive because he would explode with hate. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!!!

***
Alan found a nice little apartment near the studio. He had to confess it wasn`t that bad. Everything wasn`t that bad. It worked out as good as it could. They spent a day and a night in bed with Martin. No, they did nothing, just slept, lolled, watched TV, and bitched up enthusiastically for several hours about the music channels and the shit they were showing. Then they went to a grocery shop. Then drank some beer right from the bottles, thoughtfully staring at Berlin`s sunset, and lazily chatted about the work and the clubs and David Bowie. Then they went to sleep again. It felt like an old routine, and strangely it was something Alan liked most. It was hard to explain why, but it was so peaceful.
    In the morning Dave came to see him.
“Zombie smells coffee,” said Dave, sniffing, instead of “hello”.
“Good morning, Dave.”
“Hello, Al. I`ve come here to tell you that it is a perfect morning today!”
“So sweet of you, Dave.”
“I just woke up and remembered that I live on the other side of the street from you!»
“I do love you too, Dave,” Alan was still standing, inhospitably holding the door not to let Dave in. Dave was jigging up and down impatiently, evidently waiting to be invited, but Alan kept delaying.
“I`ve run out of coffee!” Dave confided.
“My condolences,” Alan said.
“All restaurants are closed. Too early. And all the shops too. C`mon, let me in…” 
  Alan tried to protest:
“Listen, Dave, don`t get me wrong, I am glad to see you. Please don`t think that I…well, but I am not sure that it is a good idea to…”
“Listen, why are you so greedy for your coffee?”
“I am not. Not at all,” Alan said. “It`s just I am undressed.”
Dave stared in surprise at Alan wearing pyjama pants and a black bath robe. From his point of view, he was overdressed.
“Okay, I won`t look at you, my lord! Go and put on your scarf or your buttonhole, your night cap or your night vase…or whatever your morning tuxedo is missing. Just tell me where the coffeemaker is,” Dave pushed Alan away from the door, invading his territory shamelessly. “Is the kitchen that way?”
    Dave joyfully headed to Alan`s bedroom. 
“THE OTHER WAY!” Alan said through the clenched teeth.
He rubbed his face with both hands, looking at himself doomy in the mirror on the wall, watching Dave buoyantly galloping back to the kitchen.
“Co-f-fee-co-f-fee-co-f-fee-co-f-fee. If I don`t drink coffee in the morning, I am dead!” Dave shouted merrily from the kitchen. “A silent, withered, and inactive dead body!”
“You don`t say!”
“I guarantee! I can`t live without coffee at all! Good thing that I have my best buddy Alan Wilder who has coffee.” 
“The problem is that I am not alone,” Alan finally dared to say.
“Never mind! It`s better to put up with it!” Dave said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Do you have cream?”
“It`s better to put up with what exactly?” Alan asked warily.
“Milk maybe?”
“Choke on it!” Alan spitted in a fit of a temper, putting a milk jug near Dave.
“Thank you, for you are so kind, Charlie,” Dave laughed, calling Alan by his second name like his relatives did.
“Better to put up with what or whom, Davie?” Alan purposely called him by pet form, but Dave didn`t notice his sarcasm as always.
“With your mates,” Dave sipped coffee soundly and exhaled in ecstasy. “I`m in Heaven!”
   At that exact moment Martin came out of the bathroom. He was drying his hair with a big white towel. He was in his birthday suit. Alan stood with his back to the door, but he didn`t need to turn his head to know what had happened. Dave`s face told the complete story. 
“Oh, Dave, by what chance?” Martin`s voice was as calm and confident as if he was meeting the Queen in and was wearing a tuxedo.
  Alan was watching him with a certain interest. Dave was watching him too. Silently. His face gave away all verbally inexpressible changes of his feelings. Very slowly Martin shook the towel well, then painfully slowly wrapped it around his thighs. Alan hardly held himself not to applaud this improvised striptease vice versa. If he wasn`t so sure that there would come a real punchfest, he would applaud indeed. A thought of a fight strangely combined inside his mind with the fact that Martin was naked, and he felt his face flushing. He got embarrassed.
“Dave`s run…out…of….coffee,” Alan managed to say.
“Aw, run out of coffee, then,” Martin repeated the way it sounded like a slap on the face. Dave jerked as if he was in pain.
“What have you run out of, Mart?” he reacted finally. “Water?”
“Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh,” Martin replied tauntingly, “very funny, Dave. Made the joke by yourself?” 
   Alan had never noticed that Martin could experience such a sweet intoxication from performing the acts of sadism on his buddies. He was staring at the lad in a complete shock, freezed, with a coffee-pot in one hand and a cup in the other. Martin entered the kitchen slowly and sat down. His face was radiating the most perverted joy and self-satisfaction. It appeared that Dave was also rather shocked, because he fell silent as a stone, which was very unnatural for him.
“You`ve told you will live here with your friend Christine?” Dave whimpered slightly.
  Martin exhaled, moving his body a little bit lower on his chair and spreading his legs wider, letting the towel form a deep cut on his left thigh, so his skin could be more visible to Alan and Dave.
“Fucker!” Alan muttered, spilling steamy hot coffee on his hand; he almost dropped the cup.
   Martin`s behavior, the way he moved his ass forwards on the chair, was so ambiguous that he started blushing like a virgin, even if he was sure they did nothing like that yesterday and the night before yesterday. Alan only thanked God that he wasn`t in Dave`s place now.
“Would you like some coffee, Mart?”
“Will you give it to me?” Maestro was in royal spirits.
“I will.” Alan couldn`t disagree with that.
“Christine is out of town,” Martin answered impassively. Even Alan believed him, albeit yesterday he heard Martin talk to her by the phone and tell how he loved her, missed her, and that he hoped he would be in Berlin soon. Alan knew enough German to understand that. He didn`t tell Martin he understood, though.
“Awwww,” Dave said, “and you are fucking Alan until she returns?”
Alan put the cup near Martin with a hammering sound.
“Until that, Dave, I am fucking Alan,” he admitted slowly and calmly.
  Alan coughed nervously, hiding his face in his palms. Martin, you damn motherfucker!
“Oh, fuck me sideways! I completely forgot.” Martin stretched his hand out for the milk jug. “I came here because I ran out of water. I am so sorry, gentlemen. Thank you for the coffee, mister Wilder, you are so unexpectedly kind today.” 
“It brings me a sheer pleasure to serve you, mister Gore,” Alan hissed. If Dave didn`t kill Martin today, he would do it himself anyway. He pushed his chair aside and sat near Martin.
    Then Martin began to fuck around with the milk jug. He thoughtfully tried to drip some cream into his cup but failed and then looked inside. Shook it, raised it, and opened his mouth… Alan turned his face away from that; he had had enough for that day already. He was surprised that Dave swallowed all this. He`d already be gone if it was for him. But even with his eyes closed he smelt the fresh scent of Martin`s skin, and he was aware of the fact that Martin was naked too. The only thing he had in his mind was that they hadn`t fucked for two weeks. Hell, Dave, how soon will you understand that you`d better go, buddy? He hated the sound of it, but he became desperate for fuck. Dave drank his coffee in one gulp.
     Martin giggled idiotically, lip-smacking obscenely, and licked his own finger. Alan didn`t need to see that of course Martin spilled some cream on his naked chest and now was wiping it off. Alan was seriously thinking what to do first: to fuck Martin and then kill, or in his case it would be much better to perform the second act first. Dave stopped breathing for a minute.
“You are…such a…cunt, Martin!” Dave jumped up from his chair. The tears in his voice were so noticeable that Alan almost fell from his chair; Dave whimpered again, even if he tried to hide it.
“Dave,” Alan stood up, trying to catch Gahan, while Martin was cynically laughing out loud at Dave`s breakdown, slapping his lap buoyantly. Even though he was the only one who got the humour in that situation, he forgave them.
   Dave shut the door behind his back, escaping the damned apartment, and Alan gloomily locked it. Martin became bored sitting at the kitchen alone, so he came to the corridor to Alan. Alan turned around and opened his mouth to say something rude about what had just happened, but shut it down again.
   The lad stood folding his arms and staring heavily. The glaze of humour disappeared from Martin`s features, and only the darkest melancholy, sorrow, and desperation remained. Martin stopped blinking again. His jaws, his hands tensed spasmodically; Alan changed his mind about saying some bad words to him ‘cause now it seemed too cruel.
“Hey,” he said quietly and tenderly, “come here, little fellow, closer.”
He touched Martin`s hand, making him cringe. 
“Hush, relax,” Alan grabbed Martin`s waist, hugging him closer. “Don`t push me back. These hands never made you feel bad. Never did you harm. They can only make you feel good - and no other way to use them.”
   He gripped Martin`s head, pushing his face to his naked chest in the bathrobe cut. Martin was still folding his arms, and they were pressing to his navel. Martin did not resist but did not change his position either. Alan caressed his still a little wet nape slowly. 
“Ah, you are such a skull fucked…curly, who did that to you?”
  Martin smirked right to his chest, unfolded his arms, and hugged Alan`s back. Alan called Martin on his nick name to make him relax, and it worked out right. He softened in his arms. 
      Alan felt he was happy again. He felt Martin`s breath with his bare skin and goosebumps of pure happiness it caused on his spine. He felt his temperature rising with each Martin`s exhale. Alan was holding Martin`s back with one hand, convulsively tousling the curls on his head with the other, pressing his face harder to himself.
    He felt they were so close. They were together now. He knew it wouldn`t last longer than several minutes, but he desperately and childishly wished it could last forever. He could stoically suffer the cold metallic door knob grinding into his spine not to spoil the moment. At the exact moment he got absolutely limp and dumb from happiness, Martin lifted his head slowly to announce in an indescribable voice:
“You`ve got a boner.”
“Oh, no. How could it happen!” Motherfucker, how dare you spoil such a sacred moment. Ok, not really spoil, actually. 
  Alan grabbed Martin`s backside, pressing the lad`s hips into his firmly; Martin balked, pushing his palms against Alan`s chest, not seriously - there was a wide shining Disney-cartoon smile on his face.
“Are you teasing me now?”
The smile widened more, even if a second ago it seemed that nothing could be wider and it was impossible to shine more. Oh, you cheeky monkey, I will wipe this smile from your face in a second! Alan removed the towel from Martin`s hips, in one fluid movement slapping Martin`s round ass with his both palms. Nevermind how skinny Martin could be, his ass never lost its tempting roundness. He himself was very shy of this fact. Alan`s regrets about its roundness came from completely different reasons. 
    He grabbed that ass from below, squeezing it unceremoniously, and Martin`s resistance was over - he was just passionately clutching Alan`s shoulders with both hands. Lips found other lips, touching tenderly. Feeling the ignition start working out slowly inside their bodies, they weren`t hurrying at all, trying to enjoy the feeling of it to the bottom. 
  Alan glided his hand down Martin`s spine. Furthermore, he was excited by the fact that he was fully clothed and Martin was absolutely naked. He stopped breathing right after that thought reached his brain. The thought of Martin`s openness and defenselessness hit his groin like a truck. He suppressed his hoarse moan of that feeling again. 
“I want you,” this whisper right before his own lips wouldn`t let him rest much that day. If that wasn`t love, then love didn`t exist at all, because Alan had never been so overwhelmed as in moments like these. When the blood pressure in his ears was so high, he could hear the sound it was making rushing through his veins; he became someone else but not himself. He wasn`t manipulated by his brain any more, he would lose all self-control - it was a disgusting feeling, and he would sure feel sorry for it later, but his rapture to lose it was so obscenely high that he had no way out. 
     Alan turned Martin, so now the lad was standing with his back to the wall, and caressed the guy`s chest, navel and down there, grabbed his dick that was no less optimistic than Alan`s own, and it was a certain profit. With his manipulations he made Martin utter the happiest moan he was capable of. Of course, how could you not want me! Alan opened Martin`s mouth with his jaws, shoving his tongue inside, and right in time with it started to jerk off his cock in some moderate tempo. Half a minute - and Martin`s fingers were grinding into his flesh through the thick fabric of the bathrobe. He felt Martin couldn`t breathe, couldn`t control his own body any more because of too much different stimulations at a time, so he freed the guy, making his body slide down against the wall a little.
   Alan held him right under his arms and kissed his sweaty forehead.  Such a grateful reaction from his lover`s body motivated him more than enough. Alan felt himself wired up. He thought he would satisfy his own needs later then, because that was the right time for the private show. Martin moved with his lips towards him and surely was not rejected by Alan`s slow tenderness.
“Touch me,” burned down his ears. This sound was a pure rapture, pure velvet, and pure sex, but it also was a strict order. Alan had problems  learning to understand the nuances of Martin`s softness in the beginning; he almost had to pay for that some times by losing control of the situation in their educational role-playing games for the kids from age eighteen. It wasn`t too important in that exact case, but he got wise. 
“No,” Alan needed all his willpower to say that, because he was too willing to obey, “Martin, not like that.”
   He pressed Martin`s hips to the wall again. He could do better. Alan kneeled before Martin abruptly; he was still caressing the lad`s naked thighs, while catching a tip of his cock with his cheek firstly and then gently pressing his lips around the very top. He could listen to the music of those moans forever. That was precisely his kind of show, because his one and only show-goer was so interested in it that it made it very exclusive. And Alan felt he was in control now. He was controlling Martin`s pleasure and Martin`s body. 
    He took his cock off his mouth, pressing him up with his hand to Martin`s navel, pointing at twelve o`clock, licking his way up from his balls to the top on the bottom side of the lad`s cock. Realizing that Martin was watching him with great interest and trying not to look so self-satisfied, Alan took his dick into his palm again and shoved the fat tool into his mouth as deep as he could. Not much, but he was heartedly trying, though. He was caressing Martin`s tummy while sucking his dick, wishing him to really like it. Well, of course Martin would enjoy it just because Alan was giving him his head, but Alan wanted it to be the ideal blowjob, so he was almost counting inside to make a perfect rhythm of his mouth`s movements. His palm felt Martin`s breath shorten and speed up, finding himself breathing in fumes, so he stopped for a second and leaned back.
“More!” Martin said, and damn him, that was an order again. Alan was breathing heavily, looking him right into his eyes. “Alan, go back to you work. Now!”
      Fucking hell! Alan thought he would be fucked up with that even more if he wasn`t so excited with the whole process himself. If his dick wasn`t pulsating in its hardness, and each Martin`s word wasn`t making him even harder, forcing the sweetest pain of the pleasure to flow through his body. He would never let Martin do this if he was more sober, but he fucking couldn`t think any more! He could see the body and the naked skin right before his eyes; planting his palms on the floor, Alan lowered his head to the level of Martin`s knee and kissed it so very slowly. Then he put his tongue out and slid up on the inner side of Martin`s thigh, stopping on his way on the most sensitive areas to bite slightly the willing tender flesh. Next day he would despise himself for lying at Martin`s feet like this and kissing his knees, but Martin`s cry of rapture was the biggest prize he would ever like to get.
    Alan slid his lips on Martin`s other leg almost to the floor, making Martin spread his legs wider to give him a better acсess. And he gave Martin any caress he wanted, everything he had, because inside Alan there was nothing left but the animal desire to be closer to him. And he wanted to make Martin come. Alan knew it would be something that could turn him on even more now, and Martin would not object of course. Alan cupped Martin`s balls possessively, letting him know he should not relax too much, because he was aware of his rights to the most tender parts of Martin`s body. Shoved his dick deeper into his throat, with several intensive movements of his head making Martin arch and moan.
“Come for me,” he squeezed the painfully erected cock with his hand again, moving it up and down, holding the pulsating head in his mouth, “I want you to come into my mouth!”
  The first sperm shoot landed onto his cheek, making him catch the following with his mouth more precisely. It was so fucking hot; he kept sucking Martin`s cock, feeling the last spasms of orgasm fading. Now he knew for sure that this man belonged to him. Well, until tomorrow, at least.
“To my bed. Now!” he commanded Martin, trying to stand up. “No fucking kidding!”
Of course Martin started giggling, but he had had enough of the lad`s perverted sense of humour for that day!
“I will fucking make you sorry for your laugh!” Alan tugged off his bathrobe gloomily.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...