AUTHOR'S NOTES:
I promised a story about James. The successful businessman, millionaire philanthropist and scion of Seattle society. The man introduced in the original Errors & Omissions. The calculating and brutal monster who made Jasper feel worthless and deserving of every savage beating James gave him when they were together.
Those who know my work and have been reading me since the original Culture Shock will know that I don't write linearly. This story looks back and begins a year and a half ago, E&O time.
Those who fell in love with the Culture Shock boys, and many more from the E&O 'verse will find more of them here.
And of course, none of this would be possible without my brilliant twin little sister, Liz. I will never be able to thank her enough for creating the universe in which I play.
An original about Tony and Dane is also nearly done and I'll get around to finishing and publishing one of these days. And if anyone would be interested in Milan and his fellow hunky waiters as they encounter a pair of thirsty zombies, that short is finished and available now on Amazon ~dot~ com. Search for Spunk Craving Zombies, or for me, John T. Liz has also included a link on her blog.
Much love as always to my girls, Maureen, Rebecca, Kate and Miss Pauline.
The FF witch hunt may or may not be over. I will continue to post here and move to AO3 as and when I have to. When/if I am forced to complete the relocation you can find me at - archiveofourown ~dot~ org. Then just do a search for Jtrue.
Anyone who has not read the incredible Equal & Opposite, or is not now reading the brilliance that is Errors & Omissions, or Enticements & Obstructions, all by OhJasperMyJasper, should go do so right now. Here is how you find them since the FF witch hunt removed Liz from this site - ohjaspermyjasper ~dot~ blogspot ~dot~ com.
WARNING:
This story is intended for an adult audience! There is crude speech, hate speech and adult sexual subject matter of a homosexual nature. If you are under 18 stop reading now!
AU/AH/OC
All character names from Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. The similarities end there.
Chapter 1: Something Wicked This Way Comes
July of the year 6 E&O Time
Two months after Edward began his summer assignment in Stehekin
Emmett and Nasir have only been together 6 months
1.5 years prior to the end of Culture Aftershock
As a ticket holder in a premium cabin on a SkyTeam airline, he was entitled to access Lounge 69. This lounge however was owned and maintained by the Pudong International Airport Directorate, not Delta Airlines, and as such was exceptionally generic and far below the standard expected from an International First Class lounge. It was, in fact, little more than a reserved, protected space on a balcony, high above gate 69, from whence it garnered its name. The open, self serve bar was stocked with Tsing Tao beer and Chinese Imperial Court wine, neither of which were fit for human consumption in his estimation. Neither were the rice crackers, nor were the pot noodles. The tan corduroy chairs were at least comfortable and it was a private space, if not a quiet one. As it was a balcony and open to the soaring ceiling above, it was also open to the din below.
James was an attractive and very fit man who did not look his 35 years. His trim and impressively cut physique was hidden beneath the silk, European cut suit that had been hand made for him in Hong Kong. His naturally dark blonde hair was worn close and neat. James looked every bit the successful businessman that he was.
He made the most of the inadequate lounge. There was at least wifi and James was able to send off a good number of emails. He looked forward to returning to Seattle after being away for so long. Seattle had real people and real culture. He was anxious to plug himself back into his old network. Knowing important people had always been one of his keys to success.
Like Wang Xingzhow. He was the founder and CEO of the exclusive YongFang Club, housed in the expansive, Western style mansion that had once been the British Consulate in Shanghai. It was a very pleasant atmosphere and had the very best Shanghainese cuisine. Xingzhow had interviewed James for membership personally and they had discovered in each other a kindred spirit. Xingzhow, it turned out, was a very good friend to have. He was exceptionally well connected. James never had to leave the country when his Visa expired. Xingzhow made a phone call, and it was renewed, again and again. The Chinese man was older than James by ten years, but didn't quite look it, and they shared many of the same tastes. One of which was younger men, though to varying degrees. James quickly learned that while he enjoyed a younger man, Xingzhow liked boys. And there were many available for exploitation in China. It was not always easy for James to tell the difference between a young man and a boy, so hairless were their bodies. James attended the private parties at Xingzhow's personal villa on the grounds of the club, on more than one occasion. And on each of those occasions, an orgie had ensued. James' lithe, firm, toned caucasian body and, by comparison, slightly larger cock, had been a hit at those parties. Naked Chinese bodies swarmed over him. James had no idea who brought him off. Wanton mouths had been all over him each time and someone gulped his every drop greedily.
That was where he met Jin. At 20, Jin was by far the oldest boy ever procured and offered at one of Xingzhow's private parties. No doubt it was because Jin was petite and did not at all look his age. He was particularly attentive and subservient. He treated James like he was Pu Yi and James had been enthralled. James allowed no one else to touch him that night. He wanted Jin and Jin alone. James fucked Jin then and there among the writhing bodies, and if he were not the very first man to ever do so, then Jin deserved an Oscar. James took Jin home with him that night and never let him go.
That was over a year ago. Jin was the first young man in James' life that had not been a student. He had no desire to better himself and no aspirations apart from pleasing James sexually. He didn't, as a result, perform well on James' arm in social settings, and could be quite frustrating. The circumstances under which Jin died and the condition of his body, made sudden departure necessary. Xingzhow said that he would handle it, but that James should leave China for a while. And now here he was that very afternoon, waiting on his flight in the mediocre at best, Lounge 69.
No one needed to come and get him when it was time for his flight to board as he could hear the announcement from three gates away, right where he sat. The Delta Airlines Airbus A330-200 was a wide body jumbo only outclassed by a Boeing 747-400, or the king of all commercial aircraft, the three story Airbus A380. James liked this particular plane as the BusinessElite cabin was divided into two sections. Row 4 had only two seats, tucked in beside the galley, and felt very private. James had selected seat 4A and made himself comfortable after the flight attendant took his suit jacket.
Night came quickly and James slept for a few hours of the eleven hour transpacific flight. Though he flew into a new day, Delta 588 nonstop from Shanghai Pudong to Seattle SeaTac, landed five hours earlier than it took off on the same day, thanks to the crossing of the International Date Line during the night.
The jetbridge was connected to the second hatch just as it had been in Pudong, so once again only BusinessElite passengers were in the forward BusinessElite cabin. James made his way out with the other passengers, briefcase in hand and carry on bag slung over his shoulder. The process of going through Immigration, baggage claim and Customs was as tedious as ever it was.
His office had arranged a car for him and the sign with his last name was in the window. The driver and porter loaded his multiple large bags into the trunk and soon he was on his way into the Emerald City. It was an easy drive at mid morning and took little over half an hour to pull up to the most prestigious address in Belltown, the impressive stone entrance to the high rise called: The Summit. James got out and stretched his legs while the driver removed the many suitcases from the trunk.
"Mr. Visser!" the building Chief of Security came out the front doors and down the five granite steps. He was a few years James' senior with receding dark hair. He had been at the desk inside and recognized a tenant he had not seen in a long time.
"Nathan," James offered his hand.
"Wow, welcome home! It must be two years," Nathan tried to recall the last time he had seen James.
"Twenty six months, almost to the day," James informed.
"I didn't think we'd ever see you again," Nathan turned to look in the glass doors and gestured to the guard station in the lobby. "Diondre, help me with Mr. Visser's luggage."
"Diondre, is it?" James offered his hand to the well built black man in the same uniform white shirt, red tie, gray dress pants and dark blue blazer with the building logo on the chest pocket as his boss.
"Yes, Sir," Diondre shook his hand forcefully.
"Diondre's only been with us about a year," Nathan introduced. "This is Mr. Visser, fourteen A, one of our most important tenants."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Visser," Diondre was respectful.
"Nice to meet you. I trust you are the model of vigilance and discretion," James stated.
"Oh, yes, Sir," Diondre smiled.
"Wouldn't be on my staff if he wasn't," Nathan affirmed. James just nodded and headed up the steps, and into the building. Behind him, each guard carried a large and heavy suitcase up the steps and wheeled them to the elevators.
Nathan rode up with James to help him get all his bags in the front door and left him there. James tipped Nathan generously, as he always had, and shut the front door behind him. He left all the bags in the foyer and walked into the beloved home he hadn't seen in two years. It was a sleek, modern building and all outer walls were floor to ceiling glass.
The living room in the fairly open apartment was defined by the plush, gray and black area rug beneath an exceptionally heavy, stone coffee table. On the near side, facing the windows, was a long, low sofa upholstered in gray chenille. At the end were two overstuffed, armless chairs that looked like sections separated from a long sectional. On the far side were two arm chairs with a black and glass topped end table between them. The other end of the living room was dominated by the gas fireplace below, and large flatscreen mounted above. The mantle and fireplace surround were gleamingly polished black marble, as were all the floors.
To the right was the kitchen, austere in its tone with dark gray cabinetry, black granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances. Each appliance was individual, though the oven was mounted beneath the cooktop. The long wall had no upper cabinets as this was an outer wall, and again all glass. The microwave was mounted within the cabinetry below the countertop to not interfere with the view. At the far right end was the cooktop and oven, beside the large stainless steel side by side. A long breakfast bar looked out toward the living room and the deep, undermount sink was in the counter attached to that.
Adjacent to the living room and open to it was the dining room with it's perfectly square black lacquer table. High backed gray linen and chrome chairs sat around it, two on each of the four sides. A custom wine rack behind glass that was an entire wall, separated the dining room from the foyer. Each bottle was housed in such a way as to be on their sides for proper storage, but sideways so that their labels could also be read. Built in, solid front cabinets and a buffet between them, occupied the back wall.
There were very few pieces of art on the walls or any surface. Certainly there were no nick-nacks. James very much disliked clutter. He dropped his carry on bag and set his briefcase on the sofa. He slipped out of his suit jacket and laid this carefully on the back of the sofa. James loosened his tie as he walked into the kitchen. Apart from the one wide and two narrow cabinets above the cooktop at the end of the kitchen, there were no upper cabinets and James extracted a crystal tumbler from a lower one at the opposite end. He held it up to the light and gave a small, satisfied smile. Not a speck of dust. James obtained ice from the dispenser in the door of the freezer and walked to the dining room. One of the back cabinets held a bottle of Glenmorangie 25 year old. It was an indulgence, but this was a special occasion, in spite of the fact that it was not yet even eleven in the morning local time.
James poured his scotch and replaced the bottle in the cabinet. He paused to tinkle the ice in his glass and regarded his wall of wine. Each column held 21 bottles and the wall consisted of ten columns. It wasn't full by any means, but there were over 150 bottles of fine wine here. Some were too valuable to drink. James opened one of the glass doors and ran a gentle finger over one of the bottles at eye level. If these bottles were being regularly turned, as he had very specifically instructed, there would be no dust. James smiled again when he found none and closed the door. This was why he had kept Monica on all these years, even the years he was away.
James walked out into his living room and admired his magnificent and unobstructed view of the Sound. He took a sip of his expensive and beloved scotch as he looked over the water and his city.
James Visser was back.
The next week was spent doing two very important things. Returning to his office and meeting in person with his staff, was just the first.
James stopped to get a coffee from each one of his drive through kiosks across the city as if he were just a regular customer. And then called the manager of that business to his office and fired him. He visited his day spa in the downtown high end shopping district. James chose the Safari package for men and let them aromatherapy, hydro bathe, condition his beard, shave, seaweed manicure and pedicure him. He called the manager of the spa to his office the following day and gave her a raise.
James went shopping in The Emporium, a shop beneath the clock tower that was once a bordello in Pike Place Market. He bought a bottle of wine, a jar of special peppercorns, local honey, rose tea, imported chocolates, a spice rub and some kitschy oven mitts. The store was attractively merchandised and the staff made themselves available to help and make suggestions while also giving customers the space to browse. James didn't bother calling the manager of that store to his office at all. If it wasn't broken, he didn't need to fix it.
James chartered a Cessna Caravan at King County Boeing Field to fly him up to Mazama. Rather than a suit, James wore snug jeans and a tight, black, deep V neck tee shirt under a rugged field jacket. The flight took just a little over an hour and the scenery was nothing short of incredible and majestic. Rather than enjoy it, all James could think about was how much he needed a boy on this trip with him. He would make his boy suck his dick all the way there and didn't care if the pilot saw it or not. The flight over the northern Cascades took him directly over the north end of Lake Chelan and the North Cascades National Park. The tiny village of Stehekin was directly below, though James never noticed it. He would never know how close he came to Public Enemy Number One.
Beyond the next mountain range, the plane dipped into the Methow Valley. On the northwest side of the village of Mazama, was the tiny, rustic community of Lost River. The Lost River airstrip was for public use, but privately owned and maintained by the Lost River Homeowner's Association, of which another of James' businesses was a member. The airstrip faced almost due east/west and the pilot brought them in from the east. The little Cessna had more than enough range for a return trip and needed it as there were no facilities here. The airstrip was quite literally just a strip of wide pavement set in the very tall pines. The National Forest Service maintained a thousand foot approach on the east end and Lost River itself did so naturally on the west end.
As if a celebrity were expected, children and adults alike just appeared among the trees as the pilot brought the little single engine turboprop in for a landing. This was hardly James' first trip up to Lost River and it always unnerved him when his pilot talked to no one on the radio when landing or taking off from here. This was entirely uncontrolled airspace.
The pilot parked the plane on a grassy area just adjacent to the road at the west end of the airstrip, shut everything down and they both got out. James ignored the people who had gathered to see who had arrived and set off on foot down the charming country lane. It wasn't more than six hundred feet to the little bridge that crossed the wide, but shallow river. The very first driveway on the left, was the Lost River Winery. James strode up the drive like he owned the place, because he did.
The boutique winery produced 1300 cases each year and sourced grapes from vineyards all over the state. The Morgan family, John, Barbara and Paul, along with their cellar rat assistants, produced some fine wines. They walked James through where they were with aging and bottling the wines produced from last season's harvest. James was particularly taken with the claret style blends that had been produced. Rainshadow, of semillon and sauvignon blanc, and Cedarosa, of cabernet franc and merlot. James was pleased with their work and told them so. And took a case of each blend with him when he left.
James had sold his beloved Jaguar when he left the country over two years ago, and set his mind to procuring another one as soon as his schedule permitted. He selected an XKR, white this time, with a tan ragtop, ivory seats, and the performance interior with rosewood trim. And this made it easier to perform his second, very important task. Reconnecting with his network.
James took his old crony Morton Danzig to lunch at the Rainier Club. Membership in this exclusive club was far too expensive for Morton, Deputy Chief of Operations of the Seattle Police Department, though he now was. It was a lunch to celebrate James' return and Morton's promotion, though somewhat belatedly was the later. They were at lunch for hours, long enough to get more than a little tipsy and sober up again. Neither of them made it back to their offices that day and parted with promises to make an evening of it one day very soon.
James paid a call on Lady Van Cleft at her grand tudor style mansion in Laurelhurst. It was an historic and exclusive, hilly peninsula that jutted out into Lake Washington, just east of the University District. Henrietta herself had over five hundred extremely valuable feet of waterfront. James had The Emporium put together a gift basket with a bottle of each type of wine he brought back from Lost River, along with various imported jams, fruit spreads, local honey, and biscuits. They took tea in the gazebo on the expansive lawn overlooking the water where Henrietta delighted in sampling everything James brought her, apart from the wine. The elderly lady doted on James and wanted to know first and foremost, why he was alone. Was there not a special boy in his life? He had only just returned and the answer was unfortunately no.
Not yet.
James turned his attention next, to rectifying exactly that.
It wasn't the sort of event he would typically attend. The 'Bone Island Bare it All' party was a private, members only event at R Place, which only meant the cover charge was called a membership fee, and they could get away with things that the Washington State Liquor Control Board would otherwise never allow.
James wore a white, cotton, short sleeve, collared shirt that he just left entirely unbuttoned to display his gym toned torso, snug jeans and sandals. He unlocked his XKR remotely as he approached it. James paused to admire his own reflection in the the light of the underground parking garage, in his tinted car window before opening the door and taking the wheel. A smirk crossed his face when the car odometer passed the one hundred mark on his drive out into the Seattle night.
Only last night, impeccable in his trademark white dinner jacket, James had been the belle of the ball at the Seattle Symphony. Dorothea Whitemarsh especially fawned over him and made careful note of the fact that, while she had not seen him in far too long, she could not ever remember seeing him without a sweet and beautiful young man on his arm.
And that was a problem he aimed to rectify in short order. The itch that needed a scratch, grew more nagging by the day. James did not really expect to find what he was looking for where he was headed, but he could easily find someone who would do for the night. And if he could find a smaller, younger man, ideally a college freshman not even old enough to drink, so much the better. His little head seconded that thought and he gripped his steering wheel tighter as his penis expanded in his pants.
It was shortly after midnight when James turned onto East Pine in the Capital Hill section of Seattle. There was, of course, no street parking to be found, but there was a municipal parking garage almost exactly across the street from his destination. He parked within and strode confidently across the street to R Place. James paid his 'membership fee' and passed through to the clothes check counter. At an event like this, with all the boys bare, it would make his shopping so much easier. And if he were bare as well, or as close to it as he was willing to get, it would make attracting a boy all the easier.
"Atta boy," the leering, shirtless, older man who ran the clothes check admired James' sculpted form as he slipped his shirt off his shoulders. The buff blonde gave a smirk as he handed over the shirt and unzipped his jeans. He knew he had a hot, hard, chiseled body and expected the looks of appreciation from the men around him as he stripped. He was thin and lean, but very strong. Anyone looking at him sans shirt could see that. He was especially careful to step out of his sandals and back into them as he took off his jeans. A clear plastic sleeve with an elastic band to attach it to arm or leg was provided to carry ID and forms of payment. The way this made his developed bicep stand out pleased him. Once in only sandals and the Timoteo sport jock underwear that he had worn under his jeans for exactly this purpose, and left his hard butt bare, he handed the bag of his clothes back to the attendant.
"Oh, come on. You don't wanna stop there!" the man encouraged. "You already got that sexy little butt bare. Let it all hang out, buddy, be free."
If looks could kill, the clothes check counter would have been the scene of a homicide.
James took his claim check from the hand of the still smiling attendant. "Stop talking to me," he spoke flatly and with complete disinterest as he made his way further into the bar.
"Asshole," the attendant muttered loudly. There was no question that he intended the hot, but rude patron to hear him. James could not have cared less what the fool at the clothes check counter thought of him. He could make sure the man never worked in this town again if he put his mind and resources to it, but it was hardly worth his time or even another thought.
Indeed, the majority of the patrons of R Place on this particular night were naked. Or at least they had on no more than footwear and the provided plastic sleeve for ID and money. Many were especially pleasing to the eye. A few were most decidedly not and could have easily been there with their grown grandsons. One particularly short, hairy and overweight toad moved toward him with a leer and a lick of his chops. James gave an involuntary shudder and raced to the nearest bar.
R Place was a large establishment with three bars on the main floor, a fourth upstairs, where there was a good view of the dance floor, and a fifth outside under a big cabana that was only open in the summer months. Porn played on the video screens that normally played music videos. There were dancers tonight on top of the bars, as there were every other night, but during this event porn stars were interspersed among the regular performers. James was forced to order his double scotch on the rocks between the legs of a man dressed as a cop. Partially as a cop, that is. The performer had on a peaked cap, unbuttoned uniform shirt, an official looking belt that held a nightstick, boots, and no more. He slowly stroked his erection overhead while James obtained his drink. James did not even look up at the performer, who only succeeded in annoying him. He did notice the two very cute naked boys who stood at the bar to his right. Then he also noticed that one held the other's half hard cock while they spoke and that they only had eyes for each other. James took a sip of his scotch, the finest this bar had, but only barely palatable to him, and walked deeper into the bar. His eyes were sharp and cold, those of a predator in search of his prey.
The Power Bottom of Seattle held court at R Place, during Bone Island Bare It All, at the rear bar on the main floor. In fact, he sat on the bar itself. A tradition begun by his predecessor, who at this moment sat on the bar beside him. This would not be allowed for anyone else, but these two attracted men who bought rounds while they paid court. Neither Simon, nor Seth were quite naked, as the privilege of viewing their nakedness was reserved for a very select few elite members of Seattle gay society. The Power Bottom wore tiny, shimmery shorts split up the sides to his waistband. Seth wore sheer white bicycle shorts through which the very impressive King was quite visible. This was why his partner never moved from between Seth's legs. Seth had dressed Garrett in small trunks that had no sides. Only the waistband and leg bands connected the front pouch and back, both of which Garrett filled out most provocatively. Emmett and Nasir wore matching Calvin Klein low rise trunks with the thick red signature waistband. All five of them had a beer.
A group of twinks came bouncing and giggling from the dance floor. Each of them had glow sticks linked together to form a necklace and that was all they wore. They were smooth and shaved all over, save their heads, and this only served to make them look even more like jail bait. None of them were old enough to order anything stronger than bottles of water and that was all they wanted anyway.
"Oh, wow," it did not take the nearest one long to notice Emmett. He ran an admiring hand over Emmett's left pec.
"Hi, little boy," Emmett smiled.
"This one's furry!" an identical twink ran both of his hands over Nasir's chest. Emmett and Nasir just looked at each other and laughed. Neither of them was in any way threatened by these children.
"This one's underwear is fun!" a third stuck his hands into the open side of Garrett's underwear. One hand went back to grip Garrett's butt cheek, while the other went forward to grab his cock and balls.
"Oh!" Garrett was not expecting such an intimate grope and took hold of the twink's wrists.
"Boys!" Seth called sharply to get their attention. He leaned forward with a finger in the face of the twink with his hands in Garrett's underwear. "Did you ask me if you could fondle my man?!"
"Um, no," Twink On Thin Ice answered.
"Step! Or get your fingers broken!" Seth commanded.
The little flock of twinks promptly flew away with giggles all around.
"Grab my husband's cock," Seth flipped his hair and sat back on the bar.
"Really they're harmless," Simon commented.
"I'm not!" Seth pointed out. "And the next bitch who sticks his fingers in my man's underwear is going to find that out!"
Emmett could not help himself. He stepped behind Garrett and bent his knees slightly to press his front to Garrett's back, crotch to ass. He ran his hands around Garrett's torso, one going up onto Garrett's chest, and the other dipping down into the front of Garrett's underwear.
"Oh, dear," Garrett shook his head.
"Mary, I'll slap you bald headed!" Seth threatened.
With a wide dimpled grin and a snicker, Emmett let go of Garrett. "Nasi, this is pretty cool. We're in the presence of royalty. We have not only the reigning Power Bottom of Seattle, but the Power Bottom Dowager!"
"That's not even the right use of that term," Seth dismissed.
"No, but it's funny," Emmett smiled.
"Oh my God, you're so funny," Seth rolled his eyes, "someone might even laugh."
A tall well built blonde man approached them. He wore the clear plastic sleeve with his money on his arm and the drink in his hand. He was reasonably well hung and he knew it, though he thought more of himself as a result than he should. A gulp of his drink gave him the last bit of courage this normally very confident man needed.
"Hey, Seth," the naked blonde greeted.
"Duane," Seth acknowledged him.
"And this must be Simon," Duane smiled admiringly at the hot AmerAsian.
"You must be Duane," Simon returned the smile.
"Has Seth mentioned me?" Duane was especially hopeful.
"Well, no, but," Simon made a point of looking Duane up and down, "it sure looks like he should have."
"Maybe I could buy you a drink and we could get a little better acquainted," Duane drew the fingers of his free hand through his trimmed pubes for emphasis as he spoke.
"The night's young. Maybe later. Don't go far," Simon instructed with a twinkle in his bright eyes.
"Okay," Duane was dismissed with a hopeful smile and walked away. Simon immediately looked to Seth.
"Boring," was Seth's only comment. "And crooked when it's up."
"I hate that you know that," Garrett caressed his lover's thigh.
"Honey, I know a lot of things," Seth was resigned.
"And I hate a great many of them," Garrett added.
"I'll tell you what every man in here knows," Seth leaned forward and put his hands on his partner's shoulder and the back of his neck. "That I belong to you and that this beautiful man belongs to me," he ran his fingers up into Garrett's rich, brown hair and pulled him closer. Garrett closed his eyes as Seth brushed their lips together ever so softly. Emmett smiled at his partner and put his arm around Nasir's waist to pull him closer as their best friends shared a sweet kiss.
Two men came walking along atop the bar at that moment. Everyone in R Place knew who they were the moment they saw them. Tall, thin and wiry Jake Steel led tattooed, hairy chested and big dicked Christian Wilde by the hand. They were both fully erect and no one had any doubt that they took great pleasure in getting each other into that state.
"Hey, it's Seth!" Christian observed.
"Hi, Christian," Seth leaned back to accept a kiss on his cheek from Christian.
"Hi, Seth," Jake squatted down to kiss the Native American on his cheek as well.
"Hi, Jakey," Seth smiled sweetly and watched them continue down the bar to where they would dance together.
"Should it bother me that you know porn stars?" Garrett asked.
"That the porn stars are on a first name basis is even more alarming," Emmett added.
"Shut up, Mary," Seth shot back.
"Is there footage out there that I should know about?" Garrett asked the next logical question.
"The only footage of me that exists is what you took yourself," Seth assured his partner. He leaned forward to put his arms around Garrett's neck and gave him a reassuring kiss on his lips.
"Of what?" Emmett wondered. "You sucking your own dick?" he snickered.
"You can do that, Sethy?" Nasir asked with wide eyes.
"He's small and hung, and does yoga," Emmett pointed out. "And don't try to deny it. You know I've seen you do it."
In answer, Seth just gave a shrug.
"How did I not know you could do that?" Garrett asked.
"I have you, Honey. I don't need to do that now," Seth caressed his partner's face.
"I'm green with envy," Simon confessed.
"I always was too!" Emmett admitted with a laugh.
"I will suck your big, beautiful, American cock," Nasir kissed the side of Emmett's neck and ran a hand down Emmett's body to cup the amply stuffed pouch, "anytime and anywhere you want."
Simon's eyebrows slowly raised in appreciation. He already knew Emmett was packing, but as the big dick grew under the arousing caress of Emmett's lover, Simon cursed the gods that Emmett was taken, and a bottom.
James walked slowly through R Place in his backless sport jock underwear, sipping his scotch. He had seen the flock of twinks fly past enroute to the dance floor from the rear bar. Vapid, each one, but a couple of them would do for the night. He wondered if there were more at the rear bar just waiting to be plucked from their shallow, meaningless lives for a night with a real man. He turned to head in the direction from which the twinks flew, only to encounter an absolute vision.
The man was tall and lean with long, shaggy blonde hair. The beer bottle in his hand said he was old enough to drink, though he hardly looked it. Of course, anyone might have bought it for him. What reminded him most of the angel that was taken away from him so long ago, was the heavy appendage that swung between this naked vision's legs as he strode toward him.
"There you are," James was supremely confident as he reached out and took gentle hold of the heavy cock.
"Oh, yes! Here I am!" the taller man did not mind one bit being fondled by this admittedly hot stranger.
"Interesting accent. Where are you from?" James asked as he felt the big cock begin to plump up in his hand.
"I am from Norway. I am Aksel," he smiled.
"My name is James, Aksel. It's very nice to meet you," James moved his hand to cup not only the growing Norwegian dick, but his heavy balls as well.
"I think is very nice," Aksel ran the fingers of his free hand across the hard planes of James' chest and down his rippled abs. He cupped James through the pouch of his underwear. "Maybe you like to get out of these?"
"Just as soon as I get you home," James massaged the growing organ in his hand.
"That would be nice," Aksel felt the serpent begin to wake in James' underwear. "Maybe you would like I suck you."
"You'll suck me alright," James was very confident.
"Maybe you would like suck me?" Aksel looked down on his own now hard and impressive bone.
"I would like to fuck you," James mimicked Aksel's speech as he let go of the big Norwegian pole and reached around to grip a firm cheek.
"I like it!" Aksel laughed. He put his arm around James' shoulders, tipped his bottle up and drained what little remained.
"How about we get you another beer, Aksel?" James began to steer the foreigner by his ass toward the nearest bar, which happened to be the big, rear bar.
And then he caught sight of them. There was no mistaking them. The huge and powerfully strong man who had broken his nose and the irritating, long haired, little, journalist, peon, sidekick who had leapt on his back and threatened to publish an unfavorable story about him, were right here in front of him. James quickly looked around for the man he hated most in all the world. Public Enemy Number One was nowhere to be seen, but his henchmen were here at any rate, and both of them appeared to have boyfriends.
"Oh, here is Seth and Garrett. I work for them often. They are very nice," Aksel wanted to impress his new acquaintance with the people he knew.
"Garrett? Did you say Garrett?" James furrowed his brow.
That was not a common name. Only yesterday at the symphony, Henrietta Van Cleft had raved about her investment banker, a financial wizard who had, and continued to, make her ever richer. Garrett was the man's name. Henrietta said the man had a sweet, charming and very cute, little, Native American partner. It never dawned on him that it might be this Native American, who he considered to be anything but sweet, charming and cute, but then how many were there in Seattle gay society? He had not seen or heard of another. Of course, he had been gone a long time. But the man with Seth matched Henrietta's description as well. Well built, darkly handsome with intense eyes, attractive scruff and long, thick brown hair. It had to be them. It was just his luck. James knew no good could come of a confrontation with these men, but there was money, and potentially a lot of it, to be made. He took a gulp of his scotch as he allowed Aksel to approach them.
"Mr. Steh, Mr. Garrett," Aksel greeted with a broad smile and a wave. Garrett returned the smile, but Seth's own smile almost instantly vanished.
"Hello, Aksel," Garrett greeted with a hand on the naked man's shoulder.
"Aksel," Seth leaned forward. "I won't go into it now, but you know I would not steer you wrong. This," he pointed at James, "is bad news. Very bad news. You do not want to get mixed up with this."
Aksel looked to the slightly shorter man, gave a shrug, dropped his arm from James' shoulders and walked away. James watched the magnificent, bare, Norwegian ass as the man walked off for a couple of seconds. He then turned to Seth with unmasked hate in his eyes.
"No doubt you enjoyed that," James said flatly.
"I was enjoying myself until I smelled something shitty," Seth did not give an inch. "I thought we were rid you."
James took a deep breath as he fought to center himself. It was a battle to keep his venom in check around the henchmen of the person he hated most in all the world, but he had to if he was going to get through them to the banker.
"Actually, I was hoping to introduce myself. Garrett, isn't it? I'm James Visser," he extended his hand and took a step forward. Emmett quickly moved to place his menacing body between them, facing James. Emmett did not speak, and did not need to. James pulled back his hand. Garrett made no move to shake James' hand as he read from Seth and Emmett's reactions that there was something very wrong with this man. Nasir was equally in the dark, but following his partner's lead, placed himself at Emmett's left shoulder.
Seth leaned forward at looked at James carefully around Emmett's right shoulder. "You know, I'm not sure your nose healed quite straight. If you like, I'm sure Emmy could rebreak it for you."
"Does it need to come to that, James?" Emmett's fists were at the ready.
"It never did," James looked up at Emmett, "though I would be delighted if you would continue to threaten me," he gave a very false smile. "Lady Van Cleft sends her regards, Garrett," James continued, ignoring the bulk of Emmett in his way. "She speaks most highly of your talents. I would love to make an appointment myself."
"Does this look like a bank?!" Seth barked.
"Fifth Third is in the book. Look us up," Garrett was less than friendly. He knew his lover and Emmett to be good men and knew they would not react this way without a very good reason.
"I will make a point to do that," James could see he was not going to make any progress here.
"Move a little bit to the side, Emmy," Seth put a hand on Emmett's broad shoulder. Emmett did as he was bidden while keeping his eyes on James.
"Oh," Seth commented once he had a full view of James. "I rather thought you would fill out your underwear better than that. I thought I finally figured out what it was that Jasper saw in you, but clearly that can't be it. Simon," he turned to his successor, "we need to make sure everyone here who would even consider bottoming, knows this man is persona non grata."
"He's already invisible," Simon agreed and slipped off the bar to light up the network with that instruction.
"Always a pleasure," James spoke with complete and obvious sarcasm before he turned to walk away.
"Hardly," Emmett spoke sternly to James' back.
"Is that the man who abused your friend Jasper?" Garrett was not slow on the uptake. He had heard stories a man would never forget.
"Abused is putting it mildly," Seth pulled Garrett closer.
"Beat mercilessly would be more accurate," Emmett added. "The day I went and got him, my God," he closed his eyes and shook his head.
"He should thank Allah that he lives in America," Nasir looked after James with cold, hard eyes. "In my country we would take a man like him into the desert."
"Maybe we should invite him to come with us when we go," Seth thought out loud.
James obtained a second scotch from the middle bar, this time from between the legs of a fairly well hung fireman. The dancer had on a fireman's helmet and boots, and wore a short length of firehose like a stole. This performer even bent his knees to brush his own half hard hose against James' temple. Far from arousing, this only served to irritate James further. He snatched up his drink and moved quickly away from the bar. He thought to look for Aksel again as the foreigner certainly seemed amenable until that dreadful little wretch spewed his hate. James soon noticed that many paused to stare at him as he passed. The only patrons in this bar that he found worth looking at, stared back at him with wary and guarded, very much not smiling or inviting faces. Word, it seemed, had spread quickly. That tiny, but hugely annoying, little, Native American fuck had thwarted him without so much as lifting his narrow ass from atop the bar.
James made a fist. "God damn it," he muttered aloud. This excursion had been an exercise in futility. And here he was, easily one of the hottest men in the city, in nothing but sports jock style underwear! That mother fucking Edward Cullen, the man he considered his archrival, had fucked him over again and he wasn't even here.
James did not know then, and would not learn for a long time, who his true nemesis would turn out to be.
"Give me my fucking clothes," James threw his ticket down on the clothes check counter.
"Leaving so soon?" the attendant made it clear that he didn't mind that at all.
"Hurry up and shut up," James commanded as he downed his scotch. The attendant took the bag containing James shirt, pants, wallet, keys and phone, and dumped them out on the counter. James said nothing as he slipped into his shirt and quickly pulled on his jeans. He jammed his cell, keys and wallet into his pockets and dashed. James had yet to button or zip his pants when he stepped out onto the sidewalk.
A pleasant surprise awaited him on the street in the form of Aksel, in cargo shorts and a loose tee shirt that said something in Norwegian. He stood alone drinking his beer from a big red plastic cup.
"There you are," Aksel used James' own opening back at him with a smile.
"And here you are," James was less than amused as he buttoned and zipped his jeans. "What do you want, Aksel?" he wondered what the foreigner's angle was.
"I decide who fuck me," Aksel gave a shrug. "I think maybe you good top," he added.
"And you could not be more correct, my Norwegian beauty. My car is this way," James gestured. Aksel moved obediently to his side. James slipped his arm around Aksel's waist as Aksel's arm settled about his shoulders again. This night wouldn't be a total loss after all.
"I do not know what is bad thing between you, but it not concern me," Aksel spoke as they crossed the street. "Seth and Garrett know many good tops. You know Edward?"
"Edward?!" James stopped in his tracks in the street. "Do you mean Edward Cullen?! Edward Cullen fucked you?!"
"Cullen, yes. Edward Cullen," Aksel stepped up on the far sidewalk and shrugged again.
James stared agape. Suddenly, fucking this hot, foreign, Jasper wanna be, took on a whole new dimension. Now it almost felt like he could take something back from Edward. This cast Aksel in a whole new light. Perhaps this boy, who was so far from home, could be moulded into something fine. James did not know what working for Seth and Garrett entailed, but whatever it was, he would put an immediate stop to it. Aksel would need a haircut and new clothes. He would have to stop drinking that shitty beer and stop coming to places like this. He would need culture and refinement.
"How much longer are you in America, Aksel?" James asked as his smile returned.
"This is my last night. I go back to Norway tomorrow," Aksel informed.
"Oh," James gave a slow nod. That changed things. He was fully prepared to be kind and loving, to woo this beauty, to invest time and money and to explore and develop this delicious looking foreigner. Now all he wanted to do was take something back from Edward Cullen.
And destroy it.
"You make it night I remember," Aksel gestured with his cup.
"I'll make it a night you remember alright," James stepped up to the Norwegian and took the beer from him as he put his arm around the tall, thin man who was no more than prey once again. "I'll fuck you within an inch of your life."
Aksel laughed. "I like it!" he enthused. He had no idea, and thought nothing of it as James dropped his unfinished beer into a trash can on the way into the parking garage.
Aksel was forward, which James didn't typically like, on the drive back to Belltown. Appreciative hands roamed over James' chest in his open shirt and fumbled with his zipper.
"Let me suck you while you drive!" Aksel was excited by the prospect and couldn't wait to get the hot American's dick in his mouth.
"No," James said flatly and pulled Aksel's hands away from his crotch.
"Oh, please? I like it," Aksel protested.
"Take those shorts off," James ordered.
"You like stroke me while you drive?" Aksel asked as he unbuttoned, unzipped, lifted his butt and slipped his shorts down to his knees. He wore nothing beneath and his heavy Norwegian manhood lay across his thigh.
"I said, take them off," James reminded. He very much did not like to repeat himself. Like every other younger man, this one had difficulty following the simplest of instructions. "The shirt too. Get naked."
"Okay," Aksel readily complied. He had on only the two articles of clothing apart from his shoes and was naked in an instant. Aksel sat back and ran his hands over his pecs and down to his expanding penis. James let his eyes roam over the sexy foreigner as he drove. He didn't normally like his boys shaved bare like Aksel was. A little pubic hair, trimmed to his specifications, as he did on himself, was sexy.
"Stroke yourself," James commanded. Aksel smiled as he began to do so with his right hand. He put his left arm above his head and held the headrest of his seat.
Had Edward Cullen watched this fine, young Norwegian jack himself? James gripped his steering wheel tighter at the thought. What Aksel mistook for lust, was really rage.
"You like to help me?" Aksel asked as he slowly masturbated.
"No. Go faster," James dictated and Aksel obeyed.
All too soon they pulled into the secure underground parking of The Summit. James allowed Aksel to put on his shorts, but not his shirt, for the walk to, and ride up, the elevator. James led the way to his front door and let them in. Just as soon as the door was shut behind them, James startled Aksel by shoving him none too gently up against the wall.
"Get naked again, now," James commanded. Aksel dropped the shirt that had been in his hand on the floor and made quick work shedding his shorts. James let go of Aksel's shoulders long enough to undo his jeans and push them, along with his underwear down to his thighs.
"On your knees!" James barked and pushed the younger man down. He gave no care to the fact that his highly polished marble floor was far from comfortable for Aksel as he stuffed his cock in the kneeling man's mouth. The desire to make it with this hot kid, coupled with the equally strong desire to punish him, had made James hard before they were even in the door.
Had this accommodating beauty sucked Edward Cullen's cock? Well, Aksel was going to choke on his. He moved Aksel back against the wall so that he could not pull back and thrust his bone into Aksel's throat.
"Yeah, take it!" James ordered as he roughly fucked Aksel's throat. Aksel gagged from the sudden onslaught of James' weapon and this only spurred James on. Aksel put his hands on James' thighs and pushed. He needed a moment to acclimate. James wasn't overly thick and did not stretch his jaw, but his slightly over six inches was enough to cut off his air. James never pulled out enough with his deep thrusts for Aksel to catch a quick breath through his nose.
James watched Aksel intently and stopped, ripping his cock out of Aksel's mouth before true panic set in. He didn't want the boy to flee.
Not yet.
James watched a moment while Aksel coughed and caught his breath. Then he reached down and grabbed an arm to lift him to his feet. "C'mon," James commanded. Aksel was somewhat surprised at how strong James seemed to be. And truth be told, a little intimidated. Though the man's sculpted physique certainly hinted at it.
James marched Aksel into the nearest bedroom. He wasn't about to have a trick in his own bedroom, his own bed. Not with what was quite likely to occur. James threw Aksel onto the bed and the younger man watched him drop his shirt, push his pants and underwear down to his ankles, and finally step out of them. He watched James' hard cock, glistening with his own spit as the man disrobed and climbed onto the bed. Aksel rose up to kneel on the bed and reached for James.
"I don't kiss," James put a hand on Aksel's chest to halt his advance. That wasn't true at all, of course, but he wasn't about to let a mouth that had been on Edward Cullen, anywhere near his own. Disappointment was clear in the Norwegian's eyes. James smirked when he saw that. Aksel had no idea what was in store for him.
Aksel laid back on the bed. "I like you suck me also," he held up his hard manhood. James wasn't about to do that either, but moved between Aksel's legs and rubbed his cock over Aksel's larger manhood. Aksel stroked down to completely free his head from his ample foreskin.
"Mmm," Aksel reveled in the sensation of the head of James' cock slipping against his frenulum and up onto his exposed glans as well. James reached to the nearby floating nightstand on which stood a bottle of lube. He poured some into his hand and reached down beneath Aksel's balls to massage his hole. Aksel moaned at this and James immediately pressed a finger into him. Aksel's body stiffened and James smirked.
"You ready to get fucked?" James asked as he pulled his finger back out of Aksel. And with no warning shoved two into the younger man's ass.
"Ah!" Aksel was not expecting this and James could see he was about to protest. James deliberately sought out and massaged Aksel's prostate and the boy became pliant again.
"You have condom?" Aksel asked.
"Of course. Right in that drawer," James gestured with his head. He had them, but had no intention of using them.
Aksel shifted over on the bed to be able to reach into the floating table drawer. He pulled out a box of condoms and took out a package. He ripped it open with his teeth and took the condom in his mouth. James allowed his fingers to be removed from Aksel's ass as the younger man repositioned himself.
"Oh?" James was amused as Aksel leaned down and took his erection in his mouth. With skilled lips and tongue the disc was positioned properly and rolled down over James' hard shaft. Aksel took James' cock deep, rolling the condom down onto him completely.
And James amusement faded.
"You're quite adept at that. Did you place a condom on Edward Cullen the same way?" James made a point to keep his voice neutral and even managed a hint of a smile, even though all he wanted to do was bash the kid's face in. And the kid only as surrogate for Edward himself.
"I always do this," Aksel was proud. "I like put on condom with my mouth," he smiled and laid back.
"Roll over," James dictated. He certainly didn't want to look into this kid's face when he fucked him. Aksel did so with no trepidation whatever and spread his legs invitingly. James reached for the lube and while Aksel watched him do that, pulled the condom off. He flung it to the floor behind him, entirely unnoticed. James gave himself a quick stroke with a lubed hand and moved in. Aksel closed his eyes and gave a contented sigh as James paused to rub the head of his cock over his hole.
Then James rammed himself home and lowered his body fully onto Aksel's back as he did so.
"AHH!" Aksel cried out in pain. He was not well enough prepared for that and James well knew it.
"Ugh," James allowed himself a moment to enjoy the feeling of being fully seated bareback inside the sexy foreigner's body, and to savor the pain he had just caused him.
"You are too rough," Aksel protested.
"Shut up," James ordered as he used his hips to pull back more than half way and immediately thrust in fully again.
"Let me get used to you!" Aksel pleaded.
"I said SHUT UP!" James shouted into Aksel's ear.
And then genuine fear gripped Aksel. He tried to look back over his shoulder at the man who was almost raping him. James wrapped a fist tightly in Aksel's long hair and took a firm grip. This too caused the younger man pain and James began to thrust violently into him.
Aksel's cries were music to James' ears. He momentarily closed his eyes as he pulled hard on the hair in his fist. And then looked down on the man he pounded into unmercifully with utter contempt.
"Did you let Edward Cullen fuck you?" James seethed. "Did Edward Cullen fuck you like this?!"
"No!" Aksel cried with eyes squeezed tightly shut. "He was good lover!"
And that was the exact wrong thing to say.
James twisted his fist tighter in Aksel's hair and held Aksel down with the weight of his body on his elbow in Aksel's back, and the pounding of his pole in Aksel's ass. With his free hand, James began to pound into Aksel's ribs with his fist. Aksel screamed and James shouted at him to shut up.
When he didn't, James began to pound into his face.
"You stupid little fuck!" the raining down of James' fist onto Aksel's body matched the tempo with which he pounded his cock into Aksel's body. "You stupid little cunt! Ungh!" James let go of Aksel's hair at last and stopped beating him, only to wrap his hands around Aksel's neck as he lost it deep within Aksel's ass.
"Ungh!" James' body convulsed as his seed blasted into Aksel's body. He no longer thrust and held himself balls deep up Aksel's ass. Aksel no longer made a sound and clawed at the hands that cut off his air. His hands were slick with his own blood that poured from his nose and he could get no purchase on James' fingers.
James shuddered as his orgasm waned and he gave a few final thrusts before he pulled out of Aksel. He let go of his death grip on the kid's neck and rolled off of him, panting from his exertion.
Aksel coughed and scrambled to get away from James. He didn't even notice that there was no condom.
"You are very bad man! Seth was right!" Aksel coughed, cried and bled as he fell off the side of the bed.
"Just get out," James gave a wave. "Go back to Edward Cullen."
Aksel wiped his bloody face, hands and still bleeding nose on the already ruined comforter before he ran for his clothes at the door.
James took another minute to rest before he rose himself. He retrieved the condom from where he had tossed it, threw it on the bed and gathered up the ruined comforter. James carried it to the kitchen and stuffed it into a trash bag. He took a moment to wash Aksel's blood from his own hands, then walked to the front door with the bag. As he suspected, Aksel had fled and left the door open behind him. James didn't have a care as he walked out of his condo stark naked to drop the trash bag down the garbage chute. He then returned to his home, closed and locked the door behind him, and headed toward his master bath for a much needed shower.
It was close to three when the police arrived. A quick call to Morton while they rode up in the elevator put an end to that and the uniformed officers departed just as soon as they arrived, with apologies for disturbing him. James indulged in another scotch after he shut the door behind Seattle's finest. He wore a silk dressing gown and flexed his muscles as he walked toward his study. This night's foray had proven most rewarding. It was satisfying on so many levels and quite good exercise as well. James sat in his tall leather chair and opened his laptop. He would send an email to Morton thanking him and enquire again as to how he could contribute to the annual policemen's ball.
Aksel being from Norway got James thinking as he sipped his scotch. How easy it would be to eliminate useless flotsam like family and friends from a boy's life if he were from overseas. James sat and looked out at the Sound in the dark of night, some few lights twinkling on the far shore, deep in thought. This would take careful planning. A donation of some kind to the foreign exchange student program at UW and the sponsoring of a few student events specifically for exchange students would make interactions with those students quite normal and expected. It was just the perfect time for good press like that too. James could take the summer to ingratiate himself with the University officials so that when the fall students arrived, he would already be a fixture.
James leaned back in his tall, white leather, executive office chair. It was the twin of the black one in his office at work. Both had been custom fitted to his body and were the very epitome of comfort. James briefly considered, with his laptop ready and waiting on his desk in front of him, zipping off an email to whomever was in charge of the exchange student program at UW. He quickly thought better of that. The way to do this properly was through introductions, preferably by someone on high, not though an email.
James looked through the stack of mail on his desk that had arrived today and found the invitation he had thought earlier to discard. He leaned back again and took a sip of his scotch. He smiled and held up the invitation. This would do perfectly.