All About Yves (11 page)

"I won't forget,” Molly said with the soft, tender voice she used whenever she felt sorry for someone.

When they were in the bedroom, Frazier slammed the door and stomped to the sitting area in front of the mirrored wall. He leaned into the sofa and kicked off his shoes, ripped off his tie, and dropped his tuxedo jacket on the floor. Marco remained quiet. He hadn't seen Frazier this angry since the last time another designer had pilfered one of his original designs. Frazier's lips were pinched together so tightly his chin was vibrating.

"You acted like a fool tonight, Marco,” Frazier said, breaking the silence. “I'm surprised Molly didn't slap you across the face.” He pulled down his pants and kicked them to the side. Normally, he would have placed them neatly over the sofa.

Marco didn't reply. His back was to Frazier. He was at the edge of the bed removing his own clothes. Though he was still slightly drunk, his penis was semi-erect and he felt like making love. But more than that, he knew he'd acted like an idiot in front of his guests and he wanted to make it up to Frazier by offering him the best anniversary present he could. Marco knew his lover and partner well. He knew what made Frazier's toes curl and he knew how to please him. As lovers, they were complete opposites. Frazier was aggressive and blunt in bed and he didn't have to be in the mood for sex—he was always ready to fill a hole with his dick. Marco was submissive and gentle, and sex was an emotional, romantic event for him. He had to think about what he was doing, and he had to be in the mood to enjoy sex. But when they had sex, Marco always had to be the one to make the first move. Frazier had never been the first one to initiate sex because he hated to be turned down if Marco wasn't in the mood. Though Marco told him it wasn't personal, Frazier's huge ego couldn't deal with being turned down. In the twenty years they had been together, they'd learned how to handle these things. Thankfully, Marco was usually in the mood.

So while Frazier was still complaining about the way Marco had behaved, Marco removed all of his clothes and moved to where Frazier was undressing. Frazier had removed everything but his white boxer shorts. Marco had always joked with him about the fact that he wore boxers instead of briefs. But Marco loved his boxer shorts. He thought they were sexy and masculine, and they made Frazier's hairy legs look adorable. The trait Marco had always found the most sexually appealing about Frazier was that he didn't have the perfect, lean body of a male model. Frazier had body of a real man, with natural definition and a slight amount of untrimmed body hair. He had a good body, but he didn't lift weights and he didn't have washboard abs. When they'd first met, Frazier had reminded Marco of a combination of Kevin Costner and a real professional baseball player, with his deep smooth voice and large strong hands.

Marco reached for Frazier's right arm and lifted it slowly. He guided Frazier's palm to his ass and said, “I love angry sex. We haven't had angry sex in a long time.” The wonderful thing about their relationship was that the sex they shared tended to vary from time to time. They went through periods where it remained the same for long stretches: Frazier would bend Marco over, fuck him hard, and they'd both climax together. But then there were times when Frazier felt a little kinky and he'd ask Marco to wear some type of leather gear, or he'd ask him if they could have sex outside on the rooftop deck in broad daylight where anyone could see them. The sex Marco had always enjoyed the most was the angry sex. This didn't happen often either, because Frazier wasn't usually angry with him.

Frazier pressed his palm into Marco's ass and said, “I felt like slapping you tonight myself. You were awful. And you gave Harris a good floor show."

Marco looked into his eyes. He lifted his right eyebrow and said, “Slap me now, Frazier. I was very bad tonight. Slap me hard."

Frazier stared for a moment, then he bit his bottom lip and gave Marco a hard crack on the ass.

The slap stung; his ass tingled. Marco's body jerked and he pressed his palms against Frazier's naked chest for support. Frazier didn't have bushy chest hair, but his entire torso was covered with a fine layer of dark brown hair. Marco stuck out his tongue, leaned forward, and licked the center of Frazier's chest.

Frazier slapped his ass again, and this time he slapped so hard Marco fell into Frazier's body. He wrapped his arms around Frazier's shoulders and sighed. Marco had a high level of tolerance for pain, and getting a few hard slaps on the ass excited him.

"You were very bad tonight,” Frazier said in a deep voice.

Marco licked his chest. “Are you still mad?” he asked. He knew Frazier wasn't really mad. He could see Frazier's erection poking through the cotton fabric of his boxer shorts. If Frazier had still been angry with him, he would have pushed him away and gone right to bed.

"I'm fucking pissed off,” Frazier said, slapping Marco's ass a third time with both hands. “You acted like a spoiled little bitch. And now you're going to be punished."

Marco arched his back and closed his eyes. They weren't into heavy bondage or discipline. This was just fooling around, and anyone into bondage would have laughed at them. He lowered his left hand and reached down. He slipped his hand through the open fly in Frazier's boxers and wrapped his fingers around Frazier's dick. Frazier's cock was long and thick and rigid, and at the same time soft and warm and familiar. This had been the only dick Marco had had for the last twenty years, and he knew it as well as he knew his own. When he closed his eyes, he could imagine the thick vein that ran from the bottom of the shaft all the way to the head. He'd know the musky smell and the salty taste of Frazier's cock anywhere. He'd sucked it hard and he'd sucked it soft. He'd taken it all the way into his body in every possible position two men could manage.

Marco rubbed Frazier's shaft and smiled. “Do you want to put the dogs in the bathtub? We haven't done that in a while.” This was an urban slang term they used for when Frazier inserted his penis and his balls into Marco's ass at the same time. Frazier had large balls and it wasn't easy to do. But Marco never complained.

"No. I'm so fucking mad,” Frazier said. “I'm just going to stand here while you get down on your knees and suck me off. And it had better be good, too. I want you to suck until your lips are swollen and your face turns red.” Then he slapped Marco's ass one last time and said, “Now get down on your knees and suck me off, bitch."

Marco slowly went down on the rug. He kneeled before Frazier, spread his legs wide, and arched his back. When Frazier spread his legs and braced himself for the blow job he was about to receive, Marco pulled Frazier's dick out of the opening of his boxer shorts. He tugged on his fuzzy balls and pulled them out, too.

"Suck my balls first,” Frazier said. It was a command, not a request.

Marco took a deep breath and pressed his face between Frazier's legs. He buried his nose in Frazier's crotch and opened his mouth. With one quick tug, he sucked both balls into his mouth and started sucking. His cheeks bulged and he took quick breaths through his nose. The familiar salty taste made Marco's own erection jerk up and down.

"That's it,” Frazier said. “Get my balls nice and wet.” He grabbed his dick and slapped the hard shaft against Marco's cheek.

A few minutes later, Frazier's balls slid out of Marco's mouth and Marco adjusted his position. He pressed his palms on Frazier's thighs and opened his mouth. When he wrapped his puffy lips around the head of Frazier's dick, Frazier closed his eyes and grunted. Marco knew the head of Frazier's dick had always been overly sensitive. All Marco had to do was touch it with the tip of his tongue and Frazier would moan.

"I'm still so
fucking
mad,” Frazier said. “I'm going to
fuck
your face now, bitch."

Marco nodded yes. He wanted his face fucked. He wanted to please his lover. He knew it wouldn't take long either. Frazier was the kind of man who could last all night without coming too soon. There had been times he'd fucked Marco for so long and with such intensity Marco had trouble walking the next day. But when it came to angry sex, Frazier was fast, and this was half the fun. All Frazier had to do was slide his cock into Marco's mouth, buck a few times, and he was ready to come.

But when Frazier bucked his hips forward and his cock slid to the back of Marco's throat, Marco heard a click, followed by two clacks.

Marco opened his eyes and looked at the bathroom door. His lips were pressed against Frazier's pubic hair and Frazier's entire dick was in his mouth by then. When he saw Yves standing in the bathroom doorway, he gulped and swallowed a drop of Frazier's pre-come.

Yves gasped and covered his mouth with his palm. He was naked except for a skimpy black towel around his waist that barely covered his dick.

Frazier's back was to the bathroom door, and his eyes were closed. He had no idea young Yves was standing there with his hand over his mouth gaping at Marco sucking his dick. He continued to buck his hips.

But Marco wiggled his head and pushed on Frasier's thighs. Then he pulled his head back. When Frazier's dick fell from his mouth, he put his hands on his hips and said, “What are
you
doing in here?” It came out with an exasperated sigh.

Frazier turned toward the door and gave Yves a blank stare, then grabbed his dick and shoved it back into his boxer shorts fast. His body jerked; his dick was sensitive.

"I'm so sorry,” Yves said. “I just wanted to see of you needed me, Marco. I knocked a few times and no one answered. I was worried about you.” There was an apologetic, pleading tone in his voice. His arms were spread and his open palms were facing them.

"Well, as you can see, we're just fine,” Marco said. “I was just giving my partner a blow job, if that's okay with you, Yves."

"Calm down, Marco,” Frazier said. “He didn't mean to walk in on us. It was an accident. We're all adults.” He was smiling at Yves, staring at Yves's naked young body for the first time.

"There are no accidents,” Marco said. “He's standing there wearing nothing but a towel."

"I was just going to take a fast shower,” Yves said. “I'm so sorry. I thought you were alone, Marco. I really didn't mean to intrude on anything personal."

"But you
did
.” Marco said. His voice was loud. It almost sounded as if he was hissing through his teeth.

"That's enough, Marco,” Frazier shouted. “The poor boy is embarrassed enough. Let's just forget it ever happened. Yves can go back to his room and everything will be fine.” He smiled at Yves again, letting him know he wasn't mad.

Marco sighed. He was on his knees and the taste of Frazier's dick was still in his mouth. If it hadn't been for Frazier, he would have tossed Yves out of his house that night for good.

And as if that wasn't enough, when Yves backed into the bathroom, the towel wrapped around his waist snagged on the doorknob. The towel slid off and exposed his naked body. It looked like an accident, but Marco knew it wasn't. He knew Yves wanted to ruin their night and he knew Yves wanted Frazier to see his naked young body. His smooth muscles glistened; the shadows beneath his loin muscles pointed to his crotch. His body was almost as perfect as Marco's body, except his legs were a little shorter and his feet went in opposite directions.

Marco clenched his fists. When he saw the way Frazier glared at Yves's young flesh, he felt like pushing them both out the window.

Yves covered his private parts so they couldn't see his dick.

Frazier, however, laughed. He seemed to think this was all so amusing. “This just isn't your night, Yves, you poor kid. You'd better go to bed now before anything else happens."

"I'm so sorry,” Yves said. “Goodnight.” Then he backed into the bathroom and shut the door.

When he was gone, Frazier shook his head and smiled. “Poor kid,” he said. “I feel bad for him. Did you see the look on his face?"

"You feel bad for
him
?” Marco asked. “He walked in on us while your dick was down my throat and you feel bad for
him
?"

"He's just a boy,” Frazier said. “Where's your sense of humor? It's all good. He's gay and he understands."

Marco shrugged and sighed. It was no use. No matter what he said or how he tried to rationalize, he knew he'd come off looking bad. He stood up and walked to the bed. He pulled down the sheet and punched his pillow. This time he couldn't win; the situation had to be handled with care. Whatever the mystical hold Yves had on everyone was just too strong for him to fight. The only way to deal with Yves Marisano was to get rid of him permanently.

"Where are you going?” Frazier asked. “We didn't finish what we started.” He grabbed his crotch and waved his junk up and down.

"I'm sorry, Frazier,” Marco said. “I'm just not in the mood anymore. I'll make it up to you in the morning."

Frazier released his dick and scrunched his lips. He pulled off his boxer shorts and threw them across the room. As he stomped to the bed, he said, “I have an early appointment tomorrow morning. Don't worry about it.” Evidently, his ego had been bruised and now he was acting as if someone had taken his pacifier.

Marco rolled his eyes. He didn't refuse Frazier to be mean or to get even. He truly wasn't in the mood for sex anymore. Yves had ruined the moment. And Marco had an intuitive feeling this was what Yves had intended to do all along.

However, Marco didn't want to go to bed mad. So he reached back and patted Frazier on the thigh. “I love you,” he said.

He waited a moment for an answer, then felt Frazier's foot rub up against his. “I love you, too,” Frazier said. “Even if you are a lunatic."

Marco Smiled. Though he hated getting up early for anything, he would force himself to get up at the crack of dawn the next morning so his face would be between Frazier's legs when Frazier opened his eyes.

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On the afternoon Marco arrived at the Frazier North showroom to help the new models audition for his former back-up model's replacement, he smiled all the way to the building. When the car dropped him off at the entrance, he grabbed the designer backpack he always carried around the city and jogged to the door as if he was twenty years old again. He hadn't seen nor heard from Yves in a day. He had a feeling Edgar Dupree had offered Yves a new job with his modeling agency and Yves was waiting to tell Marco the news.