HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOGAN HENDERSON! Thank you for being born so cargan can exist. ;) And everyone, please go here. (without the spaces)
www . bopandtigerbeat . com /2011/09/big-time-rush-poll-who-would-win/
VOTE FOR CARGAN! This is the reason why I am posting this earlier than when I wanted to. Anyways, I voted for cargan because it is Logan's birthday… yea right, I voted for cargan because they have _insert bad thing here_, like in this story ;].
A Weed More Tempting Than a Rose
Suburbia is not for everyone. To watch the days pass by more than the number of cars whizzing down your block in a week is not for the quick-hearted city folks accustomed to robberies, sirens and crazy fast pace, pushy pedestrians.
Kids roam the empty streets. Dogs chase the squirrels and other small animals up full length oak trees. Joggers enjoy the afternoon sun that showers them with warm praises to continue their healthy endeavors. Complacency is what the people in the suburbs are used to; knowing what is to happen and what will happen comes with moving to the quaint town of Minnesota.
And that was as expected for the young couple years ago when they decided to relocate from the hostile world of Hollywood and the demanding LA hospitals for a peaceful family environment that can only be achieved in what is, Minnesota. For awhile, the two happily lived off the land with the husband working as private doctor for the wealthy and the wife, well being a housewife to their maid-cleaned home is demanding enough for a job. And everyday a smile, real or fake, covers their faces, giving the illusion of a perfect relationship. But just like a field of daisies, there is one weed growing more prominent. Not all families are perfect nor is this family anyway near perfect.
"Do you really have to stay?" The lavishly dressed wife whines to her husband at the front door with her five hundred dollar Prada sunglasses perched low on her round nose. Her arms are wrapped seductively around his waist. The dependent posture leans foreword, pressing slight pressure to his body.
"You know I have work to do, sweetie." He coaxes, removing her hands gently. He gives a pout with watery eyes to her; just like the one his gives every Saturday when she asks him to join her at the acting center downtown. "I have to research the new drugs for the patients and those journals are lengthy to read."
"Fine Logan." She sighs in defeat. "But the spa has couple's massages and couple's sauna and couple's-"
"Camille." He sweetly stops her rants, gingerly rubbing her dimples. She purrs into the touch, enjoying the warm hand against her cheeks. "I need to stay for the gardener too."
"Why?" She quickly asks, stopping her head. "I thought I told you to fire him. He is horrible with his work."
"Honey, he is the best gardener. We had him since the first day we moved here."
"And yet everyday I left and returned home at night, it looked like he never gardened at all."
"Camille." He restarts thumbing her face. "It is hard to tell at night in the dark if the grass is cut."
"But-"
"Let me take care of it." Logan smiles, turning her body around and pushing her to the Porsche in the driveway. "Enjoy yourself. You deserve it."
"Ok, Logan. You're right." She agrees, starting the engine. "I love you." She leans, kissing Logan's lips before driving down the vacant road.
And as the car speeds out of view, he wipes his lips of the red Mac lipstick and the fake smile. Gagging at the thought of spending another minute pretending to be the perfect husband, he returns to the door to wait for the labor boy to come to work.
"Hola Señor Mitchell." The gardener greets, walking up to the doctor.
"Just call me Logan, Carlos. You're making me feel older and uglier every single time you say it." He comments, leading the worker to the backyard.
"Los sientos, Señor Logan." He bows his head, a blush over his face. "Señor is never old or ugly."
"Don't worry, she is not here." Logan says as they reach the bright lawn. "If you need anything, don't hesitant." He walks to Carlos, pressing a tantalizing peck on his cheek, causing the blush to intensify. "Anything at all." He adds, walking back to his office.
After an hour of reading through journals, Logan is done with his day's work, well technically the week's work. Medical school at Columbia and the demanding LA hospital have been good practice. And with just an hour gone, he has the rest of the day to do what he wants to do, what they want to do.
Outside, Carlos waters the bushes, eyes focusing on the stream emitting from the hoses. Wiping the bead of sweat from his head, he doesn't notice the doctor sitting at the patio, staring at his features, the tight white polo forming to his body, the biceps sneaking out of the sleeves' holes, the round firm cheeks stretching the pant's back pocket and the glistening nape tempting him to walk over and lick it dry.
The doctor wets his lips even though he's been drinking many lemonades, spiked of course but the taste of sweeten country drinks can't replace the spicy, erotic flavor of a man blended of part sex and part cuddle. Shaking his head from having enough window-shopping, he stands up and pushes his chair in.
"Do you want lemonade?" Carlos turns around to the doctor who's shaking the cup feet away. "It's nice and cold." Logan flirtatiously says, the glossy, sweaty Latino's face adding to Logan's arousal.
"No Senor Logan." He turns back to watering the plants in front of him but Logan is not the kind of doctor that takes no's for an answer. "Senor!" Carlos buckles back at Logan's sudden body pressing against his. Snaking his arms between Carlos' arms and sides, Logan breathes on the back of Carlos' tan ear.
"Drink it." Logan whispers, one hand wrinkling up the tight shirt, exposing more of the caramel skin and the other holding the drink to the pink lips.
Carlos does as he is told, drinking the refreshing beverage. "L-Logan." He whimpers, feeling the free hand poking into his collar, reaching, squeezing his hard nipple and a long, familiar organ pressing against his denim covered cheeks. The blush returns, the drink is finished and Carlos stammers incoherently. "W-we can't."
Logan throws the plastic cup to the side, giving him another hand to play with his toy; the new hand slides down, fingering the perky member through the thick pant. "Why not?" Logan licks the outer part of Carlos' ear, savoring the flavor he craves for. "Señora Mitchell-"
"Is not here." Logan presses hard on the pant, both the front and back. Hisses escape those beautiful lips, as Carlos wobbles powerlessly in Logan's arm.
"I-I have to work. I need the paycheck." Carlos rationalizes, unsuccessful in breaking from Logan' hold. "Please Logan, I need this job."
"Then here is the bonus for working so hard." Logan emphasizes the last word with a pelvis thrust, giving Carlos a squeeze before slipping a roll in Carlos' pant. "How do five one hundred dollar bills sound?"
"I am not a prostitute." Carlos falls back into Logan, his knees weak and ankles unresponsive to his mind.
"It's a bonus for working for me for so long and..." Logan raises his hand, tilting the mesmerizing face to meet his. "I know you want to as must as I do."
Finally giving in, the hose drops from Carlos' anxious hands as he thrusts his lips foreword, attacking passionately Logan's. The hands clamps on Logan head, forcing their bodies to contact unbelievably close.
"Follow me." The last words leave Logan's lips as he drags his fantasy back in the air conditioned home, up to the master bedroom. Pushing the worker onto the bed, Logan watches the body bounces against his silk sheets of the king size bed. With one swipe, his tie falls to the floor and his shoes kick off his feet. Carlos follows, kicking off his.
"Wait, Logan. I-I should shower first." Carlos sits up but is pushed back down by Logan crawling over him. Hovering his face directly inches above Carlos', Logan smirks.
"You should never shower after work." Logan comments, pressing his tongue to Carlos' left cheek, licking the sweat glossed skin. Aroused by the intense flavor of the man withering under him, he jumps, dominating Carlos' lips. Their tongues swirl in a fight-less harmony, Logan forcing Carlos to comply to his every whim. Moans flies out of the gardener's closed mouth as Logan play with his shirt, forming ruffles on the straight polo. "You should be wearing a size medium." Logan observes, the shirt sticking to the contours of sweaty, rocky hard abs, making it so much more difficult to unwrap his prize.
"You brought me my wardrobe." He moans to Logan sucking the life from his neck. "Stop Logan." He squirms away. "Señora Mitchell will see."
"And why do you care?" Logan fights, climbing once more over the body, reaping what is his, continue marking what is his.
"You love her." The faint whisper travels to Logan's ear, stopping the doctor from continuing. "I can't be the housewreck."
"It's homewrecker and..." Logan stops for words, looking into Carlos' caring eyes. "I love you." He captures Carlos' lips hungrily, eating away. "Don't worry about her. Worry about what you're going to do to my ass." Logan sits up, straddling Carlos torso. With quick finger work, his shirt slips off, revealing to the boy he's on top of, the pale silky skin in desperate need of touching. Carlos follows, peels off his polo with much ease, his muscles contracting and hardening, a show Logan would watch on replay over and over.
Flipping his legs to one side, Logan jumps off the bed, dropping his slacks and underwear to the floor. Carlos wiggles on the bed out of his boxer skin and tight jeans, also two sizes smaller than what is appropriate, but if it pleases the boss then it must be wore. Grabbing the bottle of lube from under the bed and tossing it to Carlos, Logan crawls on the bed on all four, mouth perched remotely close to the tan, throbbing member. Licking it up and down, Logan coats it with his saliva as Carlos lubricates his fingers. Inserting one finger is not enough for the weekly treated hole, so Carlos pressed two in poking the spot his boss badly desires to be pressured. Knowing he hit the spot because of feeling Logan twitching his dick in further down the bottomless, gag reflex-less throat, Carlos removes his fingers.
"Turn around." Logan nods, popping his lips off the rod. He turns around, ass in the air, still on all four limbs.
"Fuck me hard today, papi." Logan winks, knuckles wrapped in the blanket under them in preparation for the pleasure he urgently wants.
Carlos nods as well, giving his dick a coating of the lube over Logan's saliva. Positioning himself in front of Logan, handing clamping on the butt cheeks, Carlos slowly probes in. As expected of years of their heated session, Logan sucks Carlos in with ease until he reaches the five inch mark, and then six inches, and then seven inches and then when Carlos is fully in, Logan hisses, head burying into the bed.
"Harder and faster, Papi." Logan turns his head, eyes on face of his dominator.
"Si Logan." Carlos rams harder. A scream roars from the doctor's normally quiet lips, with each skillful thrust. Carlos bashes the same spot every time effortlessly as if their bodies were meant to be together.
Strings of swears release from Logan's mouth as Spanish curses and phonetic sounds emit from Carlos', signaling they are close. With one thrust, Logan screams "Papi Los!" to Carlos' orgasm shooting in him. Carlos, with broken breathes and blurred vision, reaches for Logan's dick, stroking it to steep Logan's pleasure.
"Cum for me, hijo." Carlos whispers sweetly, still thrusting. Logan, through clenched teeth, moans, and shoots his sperms, soiling the blanket and Carlos' hand.
Coming down from their high, Carlos first collapses onto the frilly pillows, breathing slowly to regain normality. Logan follows after, pulling the blanket to their naked chest. He wraps one arm under Carlos' back, the other on Carlos' chest, playing with the hard nipple. "That was great, Carlos. You should work here everyday."
The sentence vibrates in Carlos' head, reminding him of his job. "Sorry, Senor Mitchell." Carlos tries to get up but Logan's wrapped arms keep him in place.
"I told you to call me Logan, only Logan or hijo. I don't mind papi punishing me everyday." Logan kisses the define pectorals.
"But I have to do the lawn, Senor-"
"Logan."
"Logan. I have work to do." Carlos whines like a five old year wanting to buy an expensive toy in the store.
"Stay here in my arms, Carlos. You never have to work again." Logan flutters kisses on Carlos' chest, wherever his lips can reach.
"But Senora Mitchell will hate me and fire me."
"And I will protect you. I will never let her do anything to you." Logan reconfirms as Carlos calms down, wrapping his arms and legs around Logan's body.
"But she is your wife. I am your worker." Carlos retorts with sad stricken voice.
"I love you more than I ever loved her." He purrs, listening to Carlos' heartbeat.
"Why Logan?" Carlos squeezes the man tightly in his arms, concern about their secret love, worry about their affair, and afraid of losing the man he grew to love more than life itself. "You have a beautiful wife, the most beautiful rose ever, and who will never leave you. She is faithful and wonderful to you. Why do you love me, a lonely weed in your perfect family?"
Logan smiles, Carlos' inner music tranquilizing him as oppose to Carlos' anxiety and fear. "Because you're a weed more tempting and beautiful than the most beautiful rose on earth. I don't need a rose to prick me when the weed makes me the happiest man."
Carlos beams at the answer, closing his eyes. "I love you, Logie."
Logan falls asleep, happily at the nickname Carlos uses when they are completely comfortable with each other. Because only with each other does the world stop, they are truly happy.
I hope you like this. I finished the next chapter of Love Above the Law but I'll update that soon. ;)
Please review and vote for cargan =]
