The Wiz and the Chair
By Winterheart © 2008
ESN ID 40584-080901-322975-11

Drake put his key in the lock then paused when he heard the door behind him open. Looking over his shoulder, he saw his neighbor emerge from his penthouse condo and shut the door behind him. The two of them were the only residents of the top floor of the Manhattan high rise. Considering the kinds of upscale people who lived in their building, it was probably best that they shared a floor since both of them were unconventional and kept odd hours.

Drake’s neighbor, Nick, was an artist, with an artist’s temperament. A couple of times a week, there was a lot of screaming followed by Nick carrying out an armload of pink plastic. Sometimes it was during the week, sometimes on the weekend. Tonight, was a weeknight.

“Hey, Nick. How’s it going?” Drake asked as the tall, lean form of the artist ambled toward the elevator.

Nick’s emerald eyes blinked groggily at Drake. “Eh? Oh! Hey, Drake. What’s doing, mate?”

Drake bit back a grin. Nick sounded either drunk or sleepy or both. The Englishman was dressed in threadbare jeans and a thin tank top that used to be white, but was now stained with what Drake hoped was red paint. Although, knowing Nick’s ability with a whip and his immersion in the BDSM lifestyle, there was every possibility that the red spatter wasn’t paint.

“Just getting in from the club,” Drake said easily, eyeing the pink plastic draped over Nick’s shoulder.

Seeing the direction of Drake’s gaze, Nick’s fingers tightened on the plastic. “No date tonight?”

Drake often brought home someone from the club. His sexual appetite was voracious usually, and nights at the club were always good for feeding his cravings. However, tonight he’d been too restless to pick one of the beautiful young women or men who wanted him to fuck them. He shrugged at Nick. “Wasn’t in the mood,” he replied shortly.

Nick’s dark brows shot up. “That’s not the Drake Keating I know,” he said in surprise.

Trying to turn the conversation from himself, Drake gestured toward the pink plastic. “Whenever Ione is here, you toss out a pile of pink plastic. What the hell is it?”

Nick’s eyes shifted away from Drake’s warily. “It’s a chair. A blow up chair.” He pushed the button for the elevator and the door whooshed open. “Gotta go. See you, Drake.”

The elevator door closed and Drake frowned at it. What the hell was the big deal? He turned and opened the door to his loft. He wasn’t sure what had made Nick so sketchy, the fact that he mentioned Ione or the fact that he’d asked about the plastic. With a sigh, Drake thrust his curiosity aside. Nick was a character and always had been. They’d been neighbors for nearly ten years and friends for more than twenty. During those years, they had both learned a lot about each other’s lives from sexual habits to theurgic abilities. Both of them were wizards, fully trained, and at a high enough theurgic level where they were sought out as teachers for others who had magical abilities. Drake took students if he felt someone’s talent was special. Nick, being a much more private person than Drake, never took students.

Drake tossed his overcoat onto a leather chair and headed for the black lacquered bar. He poured himself two fingers of Scotch and knocked back half of it before pressing the switch that opened up the skylight and the wall of windows that overlooked Manhattan. Dawn was closing in and the sky was no longer black velvet. Instead, it was streaked with indigo and deepest violet.

Watching the sun rise while he drank his Scotch, Drake wondered why he hadn’t been in the mood to bring someone home. He could be standing here right now having his cock sucked, but no. He’d looked at all the eager young faces around him, each one of them beautiful and sexy and more than willing to please him, and his stomach had turned. The nameless, faceless sex was wearing on him.

He finished his Scotch and set the glass down, heading for his bedroom. Having realized what his problem was, didn’t solve anything. He stripped off and got in the shower. Just because he wasn’t interested in casual sex anymore didn’t mean he wasn’t horny. He was. In fact, he was more horny because now there wasn’t some beautiful young thing sucking him off every night.

Drake wrapped one soapy hand around his stiff cock and began to stroke it with a twisting motion. It had been awhile since he’d had any kind of relationship. His last relationship had ended on a jangling note when he’d discovered that the woman wasn’t what he thought she was. He’d been so drawn to her, her beauty and the raw power she possessed that she had no clue what to do with. He’d been excited to teach her and had taken her to his bed, thinking that she was his mate. Unfortunately, something had happened to show him that she was not for him. Once he knew who her real mate was, he had been unable to have sex with her.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the cool tile, his fist stroking his cock a little faster. His gifts were not always a blessing. It had definitely not been a good day the afternoon that he’d had a vision of the future that showed his former lover Weylyn with his current lover Keir. That’s when he’d know she wasn’t meant for him. That day, he’d let Keir go. He still worked with her twice a week on her theurgic training, but when that was done, he would send her to Weylyn. It was the right thing to do.

Meanwhile, here he stood in his shower, jacking off while thinking of the two of them. Weylyn was the most beautiful man Drake had ever met. His lean, wiry build was rock hard with muscle. His face was chiseled and more beautiful than a man had any right to be. Drake had always been particularly taken with Weylyn’s silvery eyes. They were always so full of mischief and life. Weylyn was a hedonist. He would have sex with whomever caught his eye and made his dick hard. He was unabashedly a horndog and good natured about it. His personality was as beautiful as his body and face. The combination had been irresistible to Drake.

Keir had a natural beauty and an uncomplicated personality. She had no hang-ups sexually or otherwise. She’d known that Drake liked men as much as women, and she hadn’t been jealous. In fact, she’d gotten off on seeing him with men, something most women were threatened by.

Thinking of how Keir had gotten aroused while watching him have his cock sucked by a young stud had Drake’s arousal shooting through the roof. His fist glided harder and faster. He groaned out loud and widened his stance, reaching down with his free hand to cup and squeeze his balls. Inside his closed eyelids, he imagined Keir watching him get sucked off by Weylyn…

With a loud moan, he came. His hot cum erupted from the thick head of his cock, hitting the side of the shower. Some of it dripped down onto his hand and he rubbed it into his hard flesh, imagining that it was Weylyn’s agile tongue instead of his fingers. He opened his eyes, staring at the tile where the water from the showerhead was washing away all sign of his ejaculate. Despite the sexual release, depression settled over him as he finished his shower.

Once in bed, with the skylight and blinds shut, he tried to figure out what it was that he wanted. He felt restless and dissatisfied with everything. His work was boring. The club literally ran itself. His theurgic work had slowed to a trickle now that he was working with Keir only two days a week. Maybe he needed a hobby.

Or a relationship…

The thought was fully formed in his mind like an insistent voice. Drake grunted and rolled over in bed, hugging his pillow. He wasn’t a fan of relationships although he’d been in several throughout his life. All of his relationships had ended on a disappointed note, though. The disappointment being his.

A deep sigh escaped him. Maybe he just needed to stop thinking about being with people he couldn’t be with anymore. He closed his eyes, determined to get some sleep so that tonight, maybe he could look at things differently… and get laid.

On his way out to the club later that night, Drake ran into Nick in the hallway. His eyebrows rose. Again with the pink plastic chair. He gave Nick a speaking look as he pushed the button for the elevator.

“C’mon, Nick. What’s the deal with the pink plastic blow up chair?” he asked his friend as they got in the elevator car.

Nick sighed and pushed the button for the ground floor. As the elevator headed down, Nick held up the chair. That’s when Drake saw the huge pink rubber dildo attached to the seat. For some odd reason, his cock stirred.

He gave Nick a sardonic look. “So who’s riding it? You or Ione?” he teased.

Nick shook his head ruefully. “Ione. She loves driving me crazy with the damn thing. The problem is, she’s too rough with it, and we’re breaking them at least once a week,” he explained. “I’m gonna have to buy stock in the damned company at this rate.”

Drake laughed. “So where do you get something like that? It doesn’t seem like the kind of toy you’d go for on your own.”

Nick tossed the pink plastic over his shoulder. “It’s not. Melina left the original one behind after she dumped me for that fetish girl. Apparently, she bought it at Plain Brown Wrapper. Or so my credit card statement says,” he said wryly.

“Man, you sure can pick them, Nick,” Drake replied with a shake of his head. “Now, fess up. You’ve used the chair too, haven’t you?”

The Englishman pokered up, but Drake knew he was teasing. “A gentleman doesn’t fuck and tell,” he murmured in a snooty tone.

As the elevator door opened, Drake leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Yeah, right, buddy.” Nick’s emerald eyes glared lethally at his friend, and Drake laughed. “Catch you later!”

Once out on the street, Drake caught a cab and found himself directing the cabbie to Plain Brown Wrapper. Inside the store, the chair caught his eye instantly. They had one hanging from the ceiling. He walked up to the counter and pointed to the pink chair.

“Is that the only color it comes in?” he asked.

The Goth kid behind the counter raised one pierced brow and gave Drake a bored look. “That’s the only color it comes in today,” he drawled. “The blue one won’t be in stock for a couple of weeks and the green is discontinued.”

“I’ll take two pink ones,” Drake told him, pulling out his wallet.

“Big spender,” the kid muttered and disappeared for a moment, returning with two flat plastic packages.

He ran the credit card, and as Drake signed the slip, he bagged the two chairs in a plain brown paper sack. Drake hopped into another cab and headed to the club. The main part of the crowd hadn’t arrived yet since the doors had only just opened at sunset. Drake headed to his office and his manager, Justin Scott, followed him. He set the brown sack down on a corner of the desk and sat down. Justin shut the door and sat in one of the chairs across from him.

“Don’t tell me the liquor bill isn’t right again?” Drake joked.

Justin just stared at him with serious dark eyes. Inwardly, Drake sighed. For the last year, Justin had run the Wizard’s Club. Before that, he’d been the assistant manager at a vampire club. Drake had met him in that club. Justin had been working, and Drake had been trolling. Justin was hot, and Drake had been horny. Weylyn had just left New York, and Drake hadn’t met Keir yet. Justin was beautiful with his short dark hair, dark seductive eyes, and tight, muscled body. Drake had come on strong that night, and Justin hadn’t been immune to his seduction. Later that night, Justin had been on his knees in Drake’s loft, sucking his cock like there was no tomorrow.

They’d gone at it hot and heavy for a week, but then Drake had met Keir. He’d dropped Justin instantly, something for which he was now profoundly sorry. Until recently, he hadn’t realized how much of a jerk he had really been to Justin eighteen months ago. When the club’s manager left abruptly to move to Europe, Drake had offered Justin the job, thinking he’d kill two birds with one stone. He’d get himself an experienced club manager and appease his conscience at the same time. Now, it dawned on him that he really hadn’t appeased his conscience at all. He should have apologized profusely to Justin. Eighteen months after the fact, he wasn’t sure how he could make amends.

“The liquor bill is fine. In fact, everything’s fine. This place runs like a well oiled machine,” Justin said in a cool, emotionless voice. “It runs so well, I wonder why you come in here every night. Do you think I can’t do my job?”

The bitterness was so slight that if Drake hadn’t already been feeling guilty, he wouldn’t have noticed it. “Justin, I…” he started to apologize, but Justin’s dark eyes flashed angrily and he stopped.

“Don’t fucking say you’re sorry, Drake,” he snarled, his body stiff with indignation. “If you had really been sorry you would have said something long ago.” He stood up and walked to the door, then turned back to pin Drake to his chair with fierce, dark eyes. “You gave me this job, and I’m grateful that you did. But I’ve proven myself to you over and over again in the past eighteen months. Your club is in good hands. Now go the fuck home and let me do my job!”

Justin slammed out of the office, leaving Drake staring blankly at the closed door, shocked to the core. Justin’s little outburst showed Drake something he hadn’t realized before. Not only had Drake struck at Justin’s pride by dumping him, he’d made the sting worse by showing up at the club every night, making Justin feel as if he didn’t trust him to do his job. Drake shook his head, angry and disappointed in himself.

I’m a putz, he thought. A huge fucking putz.

He picked up the brown bag and left the office. The staff greeted him as he walked through the club. Justin stood behind the bar with a clipboard in his hand. He looked up as Drake passed, and there was a flash of pain mixed with the anger in his dark eyes. Drake lifted his hand, letting Justin know he was leaving, as he pushed past the crowds and out the door.

There were cabs at the curb, but Drake couldn’t go home. He stood there, wondering what to do, where to go. His depression from the night before closed in.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Keating?”

Drake turned to find one of the doormen standing there with a concerned expression on his face. He shot the man a reassuring smile.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine, Joe. I’m just not sure what to do,” he replied absently.

“About what, sir?” Joe’s face didn’t lose its concerned expression. Obviously, he wasn’t used to seeing his boss at a loss.

“About my life,” Drake sighed. He gave the doorman another smile. “Have a good night, Joe.”

Drake turned and started walking. If he was going to go into coma mode, he needed to find somewhere else to do it. Standing on the curb in front of his club was not the answer. He walked and walked, thinking about Justin and how he’d treated him. He’d been with any number of one night stands. They’d all known what to expect. However, when he’d met Justin, he hadn’t treated him like a one nighter. Justin wasn’t one nighter material, and Drake had known that, but the instant he’d met Keir, he’d dismissed Justin exactly as he would a one nighter. Drake berated himself silently. He was such a huge fucking asshat.

He’d walked probably a dozen blocks before he decided to go home. He caught a cab and was home less than half an hour later. He set the plain brown bag down and pulled out his cell phone, dialing his best friend Garren Fairfax.

“I’m going to shoot you the next time I see you,” Garren growled into the phone.

“Did I wake you? I’m sorry. You know I’m no good at figuring out GMT,” Drake apologized sheepishly.

“It’s not even six am,” Garren groaned. “Ack. I’m up now. What’s wrong?”

Drake bit back a sigh. Garren could read him like a book. He opened his mouth and everything came out. Everything he had been thinking and feeling lately. Garren listened in silence until his friend was done.

“Drake, you need a life,” he said gently. “You treated Justin badly. Yet you did something incredibly good for him, and you placed a lot of trust in him too. Now, stop torturing the guy and let him do his job. As for Keir, you’re over her, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” Drake muttered reluctantly.

“Then let it go!” Garren said, his voice exasperated. “You said you weren’t in love with her. You said you’re over her. So let it go and stop thinking about her. Now, about Weylyn…”

Drake cut him off. He was starting to feel like a monumental ass. “Wey’s my friend. I’m not a pining lover or anything,” he explained gruffly to Garren. “I guess I just miss the connection… the closeness…”

“Drake, you can’t find someone to be with if you’re sitting at home moping,” Garren said told him.

Well, shit, Drake thought. He hadn’t thought he wanted a relationship, yet that was pretty much the reason why he was suddenly so draggy ass. His friend Nick had someone now. In fact, everyone he knew had someone now. Being alone sucked. Not that he had wanted to admit that.

“You’re right. Thanks, Garren. I’m sorry I woke you up,” Drake said apologetically.

Garren chuckled. “No worries. It just means I have time for a quickie with my honey before I have to catch a plane to Paris.”

They hung up and Drake strode into his bedroom, yanking off his dress slacks and shirt and exchanging them for tight jeans and a t-shirt. He grabbed a leather jacket and headed out to the vampire club where he’d met Justin. The last time he had truly been looking to meet someone had been the last time he’d gone to that club. That night he’d met Justin.

In the club, Drake did the same thing he did in his own club. He hung at the bar for awhile, so people could see him. Then he got a booth and sat back, waiting to see who would come over and show that they were interested. A few hours later, he was bored. Three women and a couple of men sat at his table. All of them were interested in him sexually. He wasn’t interested in any of them. Conversation swirled around him, but he felt disassociated.

By the time two a.m. rolled around, he was ready to leave. Alone. Then he noticed a familiar taut ass in faded jeans. He frowned a little. Monday through Thursday, the Wizard’s Club closed at midnight. Weekends, they were open until three in the morning. The vampire club was always open until a half hour before dawn.

Drake’s eyes followed Justin’s perfect ass through the crowd to the bar. He leaned on it, laughing with the bartender. A tall blonde man came up and put his hand on Justin’s jean clad posterior. Drake’s manager and former lover didn’t even flinch. He turned and began flirting with the guy. Drake’s gut clenched. For the next half hour, he watched Justin flirting with the blonde guy and with a tiny petite brunette. He danced with the brunette and Drake stared in astonishment as the two practically fucked each other on the dance floor. Justin’s hands were even under her miniskirt. Drake’s fingers tightened on his martini glass.

One of the girls asked him something, and he brushed her off. She took off in a huff. Then the two guys decided that they liked each other more than they liked him. So Drake was sitting there flanked by two girls he wasn’t interested in, staring at his drink angrily, replaying in his head how Justin had been dancing with the brunette, when a familiar voice growled, “Why don’t you take one of them or both of them home and fuck them, and stop staring at me like you’re jealous? We both know you don’t give a shit about me so stop fucking up my night by looking like you do.”

Drake’s head shot up, and his eyes met Justin’s angry ones. He’d never seen Justin so worked up. Usually, his manager and former lover was cool and efficient, not simmering with emotion. “Look, Drake. I realize what happened between us a year and a half ago didn’t mean jack to you. But did you ever stop to think that maybe it meant something to ME?”

He planted his hands on the table and looked scornfully at Drake, ignoring the two wide eyed women. “I let you brush me aside for Keir, because you thought you’d found your mate. When I discovered that she wasn’t your mate, I thought maybe I had a chance with you again. Instead, I’ve had to sit there night after night at the club watching you pick up any hot young thing who took your fancy.”

Emotions rolled across Justin’s handsome face, not the least of which was the anger that was pouring out in his words. “Now, you’ve invaded the only place I can go where I might be able to meet someone, anyone, who will wipe the memory of you from my head! So for once, would you do something for someone other than yourself? Take your skanks and get the fuck out of here!” he growled.

The two women gasped and when Drake didn’t bother to defend them, they slid out of the booth and left. Drake sat there staring up into Justin’s stormy eyes. What he saw in them turned him inside out. There was anger, and pain, and an overwhelming, reluctant desire. Slowly, he slid out of the booth and faced Justin.

The younger man’s jaw tightened, as if bracing for a blow. Drake shook his head. Then, with the speed of a striking snake, he leaned in and kissed Justin. His lips pressed hard against Justin’s mouth. He flicked his tongue against Justin’s lips and they parted. His tongue slithered into the wet cavern of the younger man’s mouth, teasing his tongue. Justin shivered and sucked on Drake’s tongue.

Drake pulled away, his chest heaving. “Are you coming home with me?” he asked huskily.

Justin’s expressive eyes flashed. “Why? So you can dump me again?” he snapped.

Drake reached out and brushed a finger along Justin’s stubbled jawline. “No. So I can apologize properly,” he said, his tone quiet and emphatic.

Emotions warred in Justin’s eyes. Drake could see the struggle quite clearly. His groin tightened. He wanted Justin. He wanted a chance to make up for what he’d done too. But mostly… he wanted Justin. It burned like a fire in his gut. Drake waited… and waited.

Finally, Justin drew a deep breath and said, “Okay. I’ll come home with you. But I’m not promising to stay. If I think you’re just going to use me again, I’ll leave, and when I do, you can expect to find my resignation on your desk within the hour.”

Drake felt sucker punched. On the one hand, he was elated to have a second chance with Justin. On the other hand, he knew that if he fucked this up, he would lose not only his chance with Justin on a personal level, but he would lose the best manager the Wizard’s Club had ever had. Instead of answering, he kissed Justin again. This time the kiss was softer, a promise, and an apology.

They left the club and took a cab to Drake’s. Once they were in his penthouse, Drake began to feel nervous. He took Justin’s jacket and hung it with his own in the front closet. He walked over to the black bar and took out his Scotch.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked formally.

Justin was tickling the Venus Flytrap. He looked up with an amused smile and said, “No, thanks.” He glanced down at the big green plant. “It’s gotten a lot bigger.”

Drake knocked back two fingers of Scotch feeling the welcome burn of the alcohol in his gut. “Yeah, it has. Nick hates coming over here to feed it when I’m gone.”

Justin’s smile widened. “Still? It’s just a plant. Why does it creep him out so much?”

Drake shrugged. “Don’t know. It just does.” He set the empty glass on the bar and opened the skylight and blinds so that the lights of Manhattan could be seen. He dimmed the living room lights so the view would be better.

Justin’s smile turned seductive. “Mood lighting?” he murmured as Drake walked toward him.

“I don’t like the glare on the glass when the lights are on inside,” Drake muttered absently as he came to a stop in front of Justin. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered.

One hand came up and slid beneath Drake’s shirt. The fingers danced along the hard ridges of Drake’s abdomen, causing him to suck in his breath. “You, Drake. I want you. I’ve been half in love with you for two fucking years. Long before you ever brought me home that first time,” he said in a low voice that was filled with suppressed emotion.

Drake reached down and ripped off his t-shirt. Justin splayed his palms across Drake’s chest, gliding over the muscles reverently. His hands slipped down to the waistband of Drake’s jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling the zipper down, his knuckles brushing against the hard evidence of Drake’s arousal.

The only sound in the penthouse was the sound of their rough breathing and their clothes dropping to the expensive area rug. Drake popped open the buttons on Justin’s fly with one swift move. Then his hands were delving inside, seeking Justin’s cock. Moments later, they were both naked and fully aroused.

Drake rubbed his hips against Justin’s, their cocks sliding against each other. He slipped his hand down and took Justin’s cock in his hand, stroking it with a twisting motion that made Justin moan. Then he kissed the younger man, their moans coming out choppy as their tongues and lips mashed together. The kissing was hot and wet, frantic with lust, both of them ignoring the sting of their beard stubbled jaws rasping against each other. All the while, Drake’s hands were stroking them both, rubbing and squeezing their cocks with his hands, pressing them together, smearing their conjoined pre-cum over whatever he could reach.

Justin’s hips flexed rhythmically against Drake’s. His lust soared at the friction and feel of Drake’s muscular body against his. He put his arms around Drake, stroking his triceps, reaching down to squeeze his tight buttocks. He kissed Drake deeply, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked the other man’s tongue. His fingers traced the cleft of Drake’s ass and he felt his lover shudder in anticipation.

Then all the hot rubbing against each other ceased as Drake dropped to his knees, his tongue snaking out to lick all around the swollen head of Justin’s cock as if it was a lollypop. When he flicked at the sensitive underside, the thick erection jerked in his grasp and Justin groaned. Drake loved teasing Justin. The expression on his face was pure lust and it turned Drake on.

Justin sank his hands into Drake’s short blonde hair. “Do I look like a popsicle to you?” he rasped, his voice breathy.

Drake chuckled and slid his lips over the thick cock in front of him. Justin cried out, clutching Drake’s hair as the head of his cock was massaged by the muscles of Drake’s throat. He could barely stand as Drake sucked him expertly, deep throating him, and teasing him with a swirling tongue,

Justin felt like his head was going to explode. His balls were so tight, he knew his orgasm wasn’t far off. In fact, when Drake had been rubbing their cocks together and their bodies had been so tight against each other that a feather would have had trouble coming between them… Justin had been afraid he would come right then. He was crazy about Drake. Everything about the wizard turned him on. The feel of his skin and his body rubbing up against Justin pretty much unmanned him to the point that all Justin wanted to do was beg Drake to fuck him.

But Drake had other ideas. He was acutely aware that Justin cared for him. He was even more aware of the fact that he had hurt Justin. Right at that moment, all Drake wanted to do was make it up to him. So he sucked and licked and teased Justin’s cock, worshipping it and paying homage to it. He drew out the other man’s arousal to the point where Justin’s legs were shaking and little mewling noises came from the back of his throat with every suck of Drake’s talented mouth.

Finally, Drake cupped Justin’s balls in one palm, squeezing and teasing the taut sacs. One long finger teased Justin’s ass. Justin thought he was going to pass out from the pleasure. No one had ever sucked him so well. Heat was roaring through his veins, and there was a whooshing sound in his ears as he felt his balls tighten unbearably. Then Drake inserted one thick finger into his ass, up to the first knuckle, without lube. The momentary pain pushed him over the edge and his cock exploded in Drake’s mouth, his hot cum filling his lover’s mouth and throat.

Justin’s fingers pulled painfully at Drake’s blonde hair. However, Drake was so into Justin’s reactions that he didn’t care. He could feel how explosive Justin’s orgasm was and a sense of satisfaction filled him. Justin’s cum also filled him. He came so much that Drake, who was less experienced with sucking than being sucked, had a difficult time swallowing it all. A trickle escaped the corner of his mouth, but he ignored it. He was focused solely on Justin’s pleasure.

When Justin’s shudders subsided, Drake slurped the semi-erect cock, cleaning it with his tongue as he let it slide free of his mouth. Justin looked down at him with glazed eyes. That’s when he got an idea.

Drake stood up and Justin grabbed him, holding him tightly as they kissed urgently. Justin licked his cum from Drake’s chin, reveling in the taste of it on his lover’s skin and tongue. He reached down to stroke Drake’s thick cock, slick with a steady flow of pre-cum. Drake twisted away and pushed Justin down on the leather sofa.

“Wait right there,” he said huskily and went into the bedroom.

Quickly, Drake found the bag from Plain Brown Wrapper and ripped the plastic cover off the chair with his teeth. He opened the closet and pulled out an air pump. The chair filled with air quickly and Drake closed the valve, sealing it shut. He took the chair and a bottle of lube to the living room.

Justin was sitting with his thighs spread wide. Drake’s mouth watered at the thought of licking every inch of that beautiful muscular body. His eyes settled on Justin’s half hard cock. It was thick and long. Nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, Drake was pretty sure the younger man was longer than he was. Maybe not quite as thick, but definitely longer. His ass cheeks clenched as he wondered how it would feel to have Justin fuck him. He’d had fingers and dildos in his ass, but only once had he been fucked. Weylyn had been an excellent instructor in anal sex, but his cock wasn’t quite as long or thick as Justin’s. The thought of that monster dick in his ass made Drake shake with lust.

Drake set the chair on the floor near the couch. Justin looked at it in surprise. “What’s with the toy, Drake?” he asked curiously.

“You’ll see,” Drake told him with a smile.

Drake straddled Justin’s body, kneeling over his thighs. His hard cock rubbed against Justin’s thighs, abdomen, and partially erect cock. He put the bottle of lube in Justin’s hand and whispered in his ear, “Get me ready.”

He licked and nibbled his way across Justin’s torso, stopping every now and again to kiss him deeply. Justin poured the lube into the crack of Drake’s ass, his fingers working it in a little at a time. Drake moaned into Justin’s mouth as he felt one finger slide deeply into his ass. Their kisses deepened as Justin worked his finger in and out. Then it was two fingers and Drake’s body undulated on Justin’s. By now, Justin was rock hard again. He stroked his free hand over Drake’s cock and his own, as his desire spiraled out of control.

Then Drake pulled away, Justin’s fingers sliding easily out of his ass. Breathing hard, Drake walked over to the pink chair and turned it so Justin could watch as he lowered himself onto the chair. The pressure of the thick dildo at his slippery anus was both incredibly arousing and slightly painful. He pressed downward and the thick rubber head pressed past the first tight ring of muscles. With a loud groan, Drake felt the dildo seat itself inside him. He rocked a little and the dildo pressed his prostate, causing his cock to jerk.

Drake locked eyes with Justin as he began to ride the chair. Justin’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, his arousal beyond anything he had ever felt before. Drake began to stroke his cock in time to his thrusts on chair. Heat was wreathing his whole body. He stared into Justin’s desire filled eyes and began to fuck the chair harder, imagining that Justin was fucking him.

By now, Justin felt like he was going to explode. He was stroking his cock, remembering how it had felt in Drake’s hand, and against Drake’s cock and hard body. He shuddered, unable to sit and watch while Drake pleasured himself. He lurched to his feet, striding over to Drake. For a moment, he watched Drake fuck the chair. Then, he dropped to his knees, engulfing Drake’s thick cock in his mouth.

Drake groaned loudly. “Oh, fuck, Justin. Oh, yeah. Suck my cock.”

Justin wrapped his tongue around Drake’s cock, teasing it and sucking it. He slurped and sucked voraciously at the hard flesh, his fingers manipulating Drake’s balls, his head bobbing in time with Drake’s thrusts onto the chair’s dildo. He could smell the scent of their sweat and cum in the air, and it made his own cock jerk. Then Drake’s fingers tightened on his head, holding him still. Drake’s hips thrust up from the chair, pressing his cock even deeper into Justin’s mouth. He fucked Justin’s face as he fucked the chair faster and faster until Justin thought he would choke.

Drake’s eyes rolled back into his head as pleasure whipped through him. Justin’s mouth was so hot, so tight and wet that he couldn’t bear it any longer. The feel of Justin sucking him while the dildo slid in his ass, pressing his prostate with each thrust… Drake drew a shuddering breath and yelled as his orgasm hit him. He was slammed down onto the dildo with the force of his shudders. Justin pressed his face into Drake’s belly, sucking every millimeter of the wizard’s spasming, ejaculating cock into his throat. He swallowed and swallowed, not willing to lose even a drop of Drake’s cum.

When Drake went limp, Justin lifted his head. Drake’s muscular body was damp with sweat, glistening in the low lights. Justin ran his hands over his lover’s ridged abdomen, loving the feel of smooth skin and hard muscle beneath his palms. He caressed every inch of Drake that he could reach as his lover recovered from his explosive orgasm.

He pinched Drake’s nipples and then found himself under scrutiny from Drake’s pale blue eyes. They gleamed at him in amusement.

“Can’t get enough of me?” Drake teased in a husky voice.

Justin’s dark eyes stared back at him, a serious expression in their depths. “No. I can’t,” he replied, his tone low and filled with emotion. “You’re the wiz here. Didn’t you know? Couldn’t you tell how I feel about you?”

Drake’s expression sobered as he realized that all these months Justin had been wanting him and he hadn’t even noticed. “Help me up,” he said quietly.

Justin helped him remove the chair’s dildo from his ass. When he was back on his feet, Drake wrapped his arms around Justin, just holding him. “I’m sorry,” he said simply. “I was wrong to treat you as I did. I was wrong about a lot of things, and I’m so fucking sorry.”

For a long moment, Justin stood there, reveling in the feel of Drake’s body against his. Then he leaned in and kissed him briefly, without desire, but overflowing with emotion. Justin rubbed his hands up Drake’s forearms and over his biceps.

“Apology accepted on one condition,” he said, his voice thick.

“What’s that?” Drake asked, with a brow lifted inquiringly.

Justin smiled slowly. “You let me ride the chair.”

Drake blinked. Then he began to laugh. “Tell you what… you can ride the chair… after you ride me.” His hand stroked Justin’s still hard cock.

Justin looked at him in surprise. “A year and a half ago it was all about you fucking me. The big important wiz had to be the one controlling everything. You wouldn’t even entertain the idea of me fucking you. Why the change?” he asked.

Drake shrugged. “I’ve learned it’s not all about me. It’s about you too. I’m not the same selfish man you first met. I’ve learned some lessons since then,” he admitted.

Justin slipped his hand into the crack of Drake’s ass, feeling the muscular buttocks clench and unclench. “Hopefully, you haven’t learned them all,” he said in a low seductive tone. His finger slipped into Drake’s tight anus. Drake shuddered and his cock began to stiffen once more.

“There are definitely some things I’d like to teach you,” Justin whispered.

Drake nipped the side of Justin’s neck. “Take me to bed, Justin. I want you to fuck me.”

Justin pressed his mouth to Drake’s and their tongues slid against each other. They moaned into each other’s mouths. “One of these days, my handsome wiz, I’m going to show you that it’s not just fucking,” he murmured. “There are whole other levels to this when you love someone.”

“Like I said, take me to bed, Justin.” Drake’s voice was thick with emotion as he kissed his lover.

On the way into the bedroom, Drake turned out the lights. Unfortunately, he missed one, leaving the pink chair sitting in a dim spotlight, as the Manhattan skyline brightened behind it.