tagGay MaleDancing With Tears In My Eyes Ch. 05

Dancing With Tears In My Eyes Ch. 05

byvelvetpie©

"Can you?" Conor heard the words float out of his mouth but he couldn't resist saying them. He needed to hear the answer. He wanted to hear the answer.

"Yes." Shawn leaned forward, his lips brushing Conor's trembling ones. Tears gathered at the corners of those breathtaking hazel eyes and he gently kissed them away. "But you have to let me in."

Terror seized Conor. He hadn't let anyone in for such a long time and the idea of opening himself up absolutely terrified him. But his father's words suddenly echoed in his head. I told him that my body was dying but not my soul. And he knew the truth of those words and what they meant to him. The exact opposite was happening to him. His soul was dying but not his body. He didn't want to become his father: an empty shell looking for something he never found.

His hands moved on their own, his fingers disengaging from Shawn's and traveling up to the doctor's face, tracing the sexy contours of his lips. "Shawn?"

"Yes."

"Please don't hurt me."

"I would never hurt you, Conor." Shawn pushed Conor onto his back, the breath catching in his throat as he felt Conor's thick, hard cock rubbing against his thigh. He straddled the younger man, grabbed his hands and pulled them above Conor's head, his mouth poised over Conor's glistening and trembling lips. "Not unless you wanted me to."

Conor thought that his heart would pound a hole through his chest when Shawn's hot mouth seared his neck flesh and his teeth nibbled his jawline. The breath left his throat as his lips left a wet trail over his Adam's apple and collarbones, then slid tantalizingly around his already-hard nipples. He wanted to touch Shawn but the doctor kept his hands pinned tightly to the pillows. The exquisite torture of Shawn's teeth on his nipples made his body arch upwards and he felt every inch of Shawn's body as his weight bore him back to the mattress.

"Oh, God, Shawn."

Shawn bent and captured Conor's nipple again, rubbing the ridges of his teeth across the hard bud and flicking his tongue over it. "Like that?" His hot whisper culled a sincere whimper from Conor and he repeated the actions over and over again until Conor was writhing in ecstasy. He let his tongue trace a path up Conor's upstretched arms and pressed his body against him, shuddering as his pre-cum coated cock swam through Conor's prickly pubic hair, his sensitive head mushrooming with blood. "Keep your hands up here."

Conor shivered at the menace in Shawn's voice but knew that it was liberally laced with care. Shawn's touch told him what he needed to know and he released his fear, praying that what he felt in his heart was the truth. He reached upward as far as he could and closed his eyes, reveling in the mystery of Shawn's next movement. A puff of warm breath alerted him just before Shawn's mouth encircled his nipples again, giving each a cursory hard suck before the scratchy hairs of his Van Dyke proceeded his agile tongue on a journey to his groin area.

Shawn breathed deeply, taking in Conor's natural musky scent, coupled with the sweet tang of pre-cum and the earthiness of sexual sweat and he was surprised to find his mouth watering for a taste of the thick tube of meat that arose just under his nose. He ignored the veined shaft and went for the sensitive spots on the insides of Conor's thighs. His tongue worked into the creases where his legs and groin met, laving deeply and thoroughly as he moved down the muscled thighs, biting the creamy flesh.

Conor shouted in joy, fighting the urge to press Shawn's face into his fragrant groin. He wrapped his hands around the headboard's spindles and gritted his teeth, breathless with the sensations that streamed through him. Without warning, Shawn's mouth engulfed his hard prick, softness enveloping hardness, passion conquering fear. A long, low groan parted Conor's lips and he fought to keep from cumming right away. And it was a hard fight. Shawn's tongue wrapped around the head of his cock, the rigid tip laving the underside and the fat curl slithering around the purpled ridge, propelling him toward the sky.

Shawn felt Conor's body respond and moved lower, lifting the heavy sac of balls and giving them a loving lick, then sucked one inside his mouth, rubbing his tongue all over it. He paid the same attention to the second nut, then lifted Conor's legs, letting his tongue glide over his sensitive perineum's flesh and aiming for his flexing pucker.

"Shawn."

Conor could only utter one word as his lover's tongue breached his outer ring, pressing inside and spreading him open. He kept hold of the bars, pushing down into Shawn's tongue and wishing that it was his cock that was forging the path. He had never been loved like this before. Part of him understood why his father had been so addicted to the act of fucking. It was so exciting, so exhilarating. Every bit of his flesh was pulsing with fire and he couldn't breathe, so staggering were the sensations.

"Please, Shawn." Shawn's mouth encircled his pucker and sucked, drawing a loud hiss from Conor. "Fuck me."

"What?" Shawn arose, rubbing his cock in Conor's spit-slimed crack. He nipped at his nipples and bit just under his left armpit. "What do you want?"

"Please."

The fear was still in his voice. Shawn heard it and wanted to erase it. He wanted Conor to own this. "What do you want, Conor?"

"You. Inside me."

Shawn rubbed the head over Conor's spasming hole again. Conor whimpered and tried to push down but Shawn moved back. He moved his hand over Conor's smooth ass flesh and slid his thumb into his asshole. Again, Conor whimpered, his body stiffening as a shudder flashed through him. "Is this what you want?"

Shawn's finger pushed in again, grazing Conor's prostate and sending electrical tremors down his spine. "Yes." He answered breathily, coasting on a wave of pure pleasure, then, "No."

"What do you want?"

"Your cock." Conor hissed, gripping the spindles harder. "Quit fucking teasing me and fuck me!"

"Is that what you want?" Shawn lined the head of his aching prick up with Conor's waiting hole, then let the slick head touch. "This?"

"Yes. Fucking take me!"

The beauty of Conor's angry eyes was too much to deny. Shawn pressed in until the head popped in, then in a long, slow slide, plunged into Conor until he was balls deep. "Oh, Conor." Shawn didn't know that the words had slipped out of his mouth until he met Conor's eyes and saw the love reflected there. Love? Yes, love. That thought took the breath from Shawn's throat and he leaned down, touching his mouth to Conor's and letting his tongue dance.

Conor pulled his arms down, hoping that Shawn wouldn't be angry, but he wanted to touch and hold his lover. His hands curled around Shawn's neck, his fingers lacing into his thick, black hair. Shawn moaned softly into Conor's mouth. Conor sucked on his tongue, returning the moan as Shawn pulled out and pressed in, filling Conor more completely than he'd ever been filled before.

He hadn't told Shawn the complete truth. That he hadn't been able to make love to anyone since escaping Frank. That he saw himself as a whore, someone not worthy of love. Something told him that Shawn wouldn't have listened had he told him. Something told him that it wouldn't have mattered. The kiss they shared was fiery but Conor felt the care that bubbled beneath. It wasn't a kiss of ownership; it was a kiss of passion. He broke the kiss, leaving Shawn confused but he lifted his legs over Shawn's shoulders to allow him better access and grabbed the spindles again.

Yes. Shawn put his hands on either side of Conor's hips and drove into him, desperately trying to ignore the tingles that fired his skin. Conor's ass was so hot and tight that Shawn had to work to keep himself from exploding. And the tasty sight of his disheveled blond curls and rosy cheeks didn't make it any easier. He found a steady rhythm and closed his eyes as Conor matched him stroke for stroke, their bodies moving perfectly together, their eyes locked.

"Yes. Yes. Yes! Shawn!" Conor bucked underneath Shawn, his cock spurting ropes of thick, white cum into the space between their bodies. The first spurt landed on his upper chest and neck, the next on his chest and the last three on his stomach. He was so busy cumming that he didn't realize that Shawn was cumming too.

Shawn felt the rippling of Conor's ass muscles and he couldn't fight any longer. With a deep growl, he exploded into Conor's body, gasping with each release of sperm, relentlessly drilling Conor's asshole. His arms gave out and he half-fell into Conor's arms, trying to catch his breath and shaking with aftershocks. He groaned as his flaccid prick slid out of Conor's ass while Conor's hands roamed over his overheated skin.

"Conor?"

"Yeah."

"Did I hurt you?"

"No." That single word loosed a flood of tears that Conor valiantly tried to stem but failed and Shawn held him gently, touching his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about." Shawn whispered. He gathered Conor against him, pulled the sheets over them and said a quiet prayer, hoping that this connection would not pale in the morning light.

* * * * *

Conor awoke first.

He swam slowly to the surface of deep sleep, blinking into wakefulness and looking down at sun-browned arm that curled around his middle, then at the peaceful features of his sleeping lover. Did last night really happen? Did he really make love with Shawn? He closed his eyes, letting his fingertips drift across Shawn's forearm, recalling the evening's events. Yes, it really happened and yes, Shawn had made love to him. Made love. Yes, made love. Conor now knew something that his father had never known; something that quite possibly might have changed his life had he known it. He had never experienced love.

"Good morning."

Shawn's velvety voice warmed Conor from his head to his toes and he pressed back into Shawn's warm body, squeezing his forearm and closing his eyes. "Morning."

"Sleep well?"

"Yes."

Shawn wanted more than just a one word response but realized that Conor might not be ready for that. He rubbed his cock against Conor's ball sac, nipping at Conor's neck. "You felt so good last night."

"Did I?"

"Mmm, yeah." Shawn licked Conor's ear. "Would you like to fuck me?"

Conor turned over in Shawn's arms, searching his eyes. "No." His voice shook. "I'd like to make love to you."

Shawn searched Conor's eyes, blue meeting hazel, heart meeting heart. "I'd like that very much." He whispered just before Conor's mouth covered his and they began the dance again.

* * * * *

Daphne noticed the change in Shawn immediately. The dark circles had disappeared and his usually immaculate hair was standing up in odd places. She burst out laughing when she saw him.

"What's the joke?"

"You are!" She motioned for him to bend down and combed the more unruly areas into an artful disarray. "I've never seen you without your hair perfect."

Spots of color arose on his cheeks. "Uh, I was in a rush to get here."

"Yeah, I just bet you were." Daphne gave him a knowing smile. "It's Conor, isn't it?" He blushed again. "Ha! I knew it!"

"Sshhh!" He shushed her, finishing some notes on his last patient. "Don't advertise, will ya?"

She grinned. "I can't help it! I'm happy for you."

Shawn smiled to himself. He was happy, too. Deliriously happy. A tingle coursed down his spine as he recalled the last time he'd made love with Conor. He'd never imagined such intimacy. Conor moving inside him, their mouths locked, exchanging groans and breaths, arms wrapped around each other ... he took a deep breath and winced as his cock jumped. And then afterwards, the cuddling, the sweet kisses and a huge roast beef and Vidalia onion sandwich with Dijon mustard that they shared in bed.

"Want to come over for dinner?"

"Naw, that's okay. I wouldn't want to intrude."

"You could never intrude, dear Daphne." Shawn gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as he hurried down the hall. "Come by at eight."

* * * * *

Conor checked his lasagna again and turned the oven off. Perfect. Everything was ready. The garlic bread was crusty and buttery, the salad was tossed and covered with thinly-sliced plum tomatoes and six bottles of Santa Margherita were ice-cold, sitting in a galvanized bucket nearby. Three places were set, Al Jarreau was in the CD player and candles awaited lighting. This was something that he'd always wanted. A relationship with someone whom he could trust, someone that loved him for who he was and who he could become.

"Lovely table. Who's joining us for dinner?"

The salt cellar Conor was holding crashed to the floor at the sound of the voice. He turned slowly, his heart sinking into the depths of his churning stomach as Frank Bushings strode into the kitchen. "Get out."

"What? Is that any way to greet your long-lost lover?"

"You're not my lover. You never were."

"And this doctor is?"

Conor felt the anger in his heated face and tried to force his fear back as horrible memories flooded him. "Get out, Frank."

"Can't do that." The tall man pulled out a chair and laid one of the linen napkins over his leg. "Not unless you have the money you owe me."

"What money? I don't owe you any money."

"Oh, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You know perfectly well what our deal was."

Shame washed over Conor. "We didn't have a deal, Frank. You coerced me into your sick game."

"Coerced you? Is that how you think it was?" Frank threw his head back, his oiled hair falling out of place. He brushed it back into place with his hands, a mocking smile on his dark features. "You're living in a dream world, Conor. You're not a doctor. What makes you think that he'd want a whore for his partner?"

Hot tears stung Conor's eyes as Frank's words hit home. But I'm not a whore. He knew the truth of his relationship with Frank and he was not a whore. But would Shawn believe that? Probably not. "I'm not a whore."

"Does he know how many cocks have been in that tight ass of yours?" Frank laughed. "I should hang a set of golden arches over your ass. 'Hundreds served daily'."

"I don't owe you any money, Frank. Our relationship is over."

"That's where you're wrong." Frank arose and closed the space between the two, his hand gripping Conor's neck and propelling him back against the counter. "You belong to me and I'm not letting you go."

"I don't belong to you!"

Frank's smile twisted as his free hand worked his belt open and his pants dropped to the floor. "Let me jog your memory."

Conor tried to fight but Frank was much larger than he was. The man twisted him around and jerked his shorts down. "No, Frank, Please!"

His cry echoed through the house as Frank rammed his cock home.

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