Carlos stood with his arm resting against the potted palm tree. He stared sullenly out the window as the ice in his martini melted. Why was he ever so vacant? Why is it that now, in this world, he feels so empty? It's not really a question of why, he knows why. It's a question of who.
The gentleman in charge of the evening is one he so longs for. James Diamond. Elegant. Refined. Poise. Everything a man is not supposed to be. Carlos yearns to free a friend from a bind but not just with words of affirmation or a beer and a night on the town. Carlos wanted to milk that boy's cock with the firm fuzzy peach he had the honor of calling an ass.
Here, at a swarey for those James deemed the closest, Carlos felt the furthest away. For there she was; Cat Valentine. Jame's lushious, vocally gifted, and petite little girlfriend. She's pretty yes. She can sing. She can smile and make you feel like your a million dollars. Only Carlos feels he can offer more than her. She offers that which a woman can offer James but Carlos can offer him reality. Carlos understands James, has been there since they were both boys, remembers the first night James masturbated (he was right beside him sleeping on a mat on the floor beside his best friend. He saw the innocence in James who had only his hand and his mind. Before the corruption. Before the barricade of the cell screen for James became a beast and the events on the other side of the two dimensional world he was viewing merely taunted him.), he has dried Jame's tears.
This woman, in her Prada red dress and her long dangling diamond earrings and those sharp white nails, wanted one thing; Jame's money.
Carlos wouldn't care if James was broke, a poor beggar on the street, or a drug addict in a falling apart trailer home, he wanted all of James. The body, the mind, the kiss, the love, the frustration and anger, the sadness, the sex. Money is not a part of a person. It is a brush with which to paint a facade.
As the two of them descended the staircase and the elderly buttler made the announcement Carlos turned around. James immediately found Carlos in the crowd and smiled at him brightly. Carlos held up his crystal glass as if to signal a cheers only to melt back into the illusions the falling snow outside had to offer.
After a moment he felt a hand slip into his own. A crinkle in his brow as he turned. James stood there so blissfully, "Will you come with me?" he asked.
Carlos was unsure. Of course after a moment he obliged, after all James is his best friend.
James, with those thick unchalliced hands and that soft but sculpted face, led him into the library. The candles were burning and the sound of violins and piano could be heard, "My darling has agreed..." he begins as he pulls Carlos in close to his chest and begins to step in rhythm to the music, "... to let me have you."
Carlos pulls away with an angry face but James pulls him even closer, "Listen. I love you. She knows it. You know it. I know it. Let me love you Carlos. Stay here with us. She's seeing her truest love. You must understand money has a certain way of working. I don't care about it. I care about you and I want to be with you."
Carlos pulls away again this time more confident, "I don't what the fuck has gotten into you but this is not how you talk to me."
James presses Carlos backwards to fall down on a velvet urban daybed next to the window where they both look out and see snow fall, "Carlos I see the way you look at me. I've watched you stare at me in the night as I pull on this meat that is begging you to pull it out right now." hot breath between them as James moves to pop open the buttons of Carlos' shirt.
"James. You have a wife. You expect me to just believe you? She could walk in and slit my throat while I'm blowing you- is that what you want to happen?" He growls.
James sits back on his knees, "Carlos... I threw this party to see you. To drag you out here. It's a sponsored event and she's in charge of all the expenses. She's greeting all the guests. I told her how I felt about you. What I wanted with you. We'll give you a job, you'll have to marry her girlfriend Samantha Puckett eventually but in doing all of this we can ensure that some good people are in positions of power. Enough of that. This is a celebration."
James kisses Carlos. The whiskers on the latino's lips scratch across James' smooth and soft face. Carlos presses into it pushing and pulling his tongue with a new lovers. Spit begins to lather at the corners of their mouths but neither of them notice as both of them are suddenly out of the confines of those constricting van husen button ups. Chest on chest and James has his hand in Carlos' dress pants with all of his five digits wrapped about halfway around the bottom half of Carlos already pulsing cock.
Purple head slips past pink trout like lips and James bobs down low enough to collect every inch feeling the throb of his best friends dick in the back of his throat. A steady rhythm begins and when he swallows around it Carlos cries out and clenches the edges of the velvet for support.
In less than ten minutes James has half of his thick white man mean pulsating inside of the tight purple whole Carlos is holding open for him with both legs, with crater calves and thunder thighs, held up in the air with his bronze hands. James reaches down with his right hand to wrap around and moves in deeper while pumping his partner in synced time. Leaning forward he presses his lips to Carlos gold glazed pecks sucking on each nipple and biting ever so gently just to make Carlos squirm.
Soon he was fucking the shit out of this pretty little Garcia lad and his dick was screaming for a release. He slaps both hands down on Carlos' thighs which he's now holding down to the sides and shoves his tongue in his partners mouth. Carlos nuts all over James' chest and James' let's himself cum inside Carlos' ass and take a deep gasp as he collapses onto the hot warm body beneath him. They fall asleep.
An hour goes by and there's a scream out in the house somewhere. They awake, in a flash they are dressed and back into the main corridor where most of the prestige guests gather.
Samantha Pucket comes so dreadfully down the stairs in her own tuxedo clutching a lifeless body in her hands, "Someone killed her!" she screams, "someone killed Cat!"
