Underwear Ch. 07bySadieRose©
PART SEVEN -- UNIMAGINABLE
"Welcome to Chapter Seven of Underwear, the novel cycle with possibly the longest gestation period on Literotica. (I'm sure someone will correct me if that's not the case) I began writing these stories about three years ago and they're finally beginning to metamorphose into the series that readers have been demanding. A real, proper love affair for the Wylde One. (And she said it would never happen!) Expect drama, lust, hilarity, tragedy... all the stuff you know you're going to get from Rayne Wylde inc. In chapter seven our principal protagonists have a fight and go to a swingers' party. Enjoy!" - UNDERWEAR is the intellectual property of Josh Rose and Sadie Rose Bermingham. Any unauthorised redistribution of this material will be sat upon by a large woman in a thong from a very great height!
Kevan had been wonderfully attentive since the night of their reconciliation. True to his word he had given Rayne plenty of space but he came round to the apartment every night after work. On the morning after their marathon lovemaking session, which had gone on all night and beyond, (firstly on the sofa then later in the shower and continuing in bed until long after the sun had come up) he brought Rayne ice-cream for his sore throat and Vaseline for his tenderised bum. Afterwards he let the little Vamp feed from him on the understanding that Rayne would treat him to breakfast when they were done.
Before breakfast could happen, he fucked his lover again, tucking a couple of pillows under Rayne's hips and thrusting like a randy dog into his raised arsehole, taking full advantage of the thick coating of Vaseline he had applied earlier. Rayne made no objection to this. He felt unbelievably horny, so much so that he actually began to wonder if this was not another phase of Vampiric development that he was going through.
Jabez had warned him that there would be times when he suddenly grew in strength or appetite. He supposed that it was not beyond the bounds of reason to suspect that he might become prey to a rapid escalation of sexual appetite. Or maybe it was just having Kevan around!
As Kev liked a full cooked breakfast and Rayne would not tolerate dead animal parts in his refrigerator they went out for breakfast each morning as the Vampire's treat. Today was bright and quite warm after the cold grey days they had been experiencing lately and they settled at a table outside one of the Canal Street cafes. Rayne sipped a huge bowl of black coffee and watched the world go by whilst his lover tucked into a plate of sausage, bacon, egg, mushrooms, tomatoes, black pudding and a couple of slices of fried bread that would have kept a small, starving, Third World village fed for a week.
"I don't know how you do that," he murmured, unable to even watch his mate eating. Just the smell of it was making him nauseous. "I don't know how you can put all that cholesterol in your mouth, let alone swallow it."
Kev grinned at him, unfazed.
"Given some of the things that 'you' put in your mouth that's a bit rich!" he remarked in a good-humoured tone.
Rayne gave up and went for a walk. He bought a newspaper and took his time returning to the canalside. By the time he got back, Kev had finished eating and two more schooners of coffee, milky and sweet for Kev, thick and black for himself, had replaced his plate.
"Have you seen this?" the Vampire asked, showing his lover the paper with a little frown.
The headline on the front page of the local rag was typically hysteric, screaming in block capitals about deviants and perverts stalking the Manchester streets. The article beneath was an altogether darker piece about a teenage boy from Salford who had been assaulted and raped during the previous evening by a man who offered him a lift home. The guy had apparently picked him up in the city centre not long after 7pm and driven to a deserted parking lot on the edge of Hulme where he molested the kid in his car, forced him to strip and had sex with him three times during the traumatic forty minute assault.
Kevan pored over it in silence, his expression grim. When he looked up his lover was watching him with a look on his face that he knew all too well.
"You're probably going to have to look into it anyway," Rayne Wylde said innocently.
"Not my case," Kevan pointed out, tapping the article again. "Sam Kapper's grabbed it. He always did like nabbing the twisted bastards. He's fuckin' twisted himself! He understands them."
"We could keep our eyes open, if we had a proper description," Rayne suggested, sipping his coffee.
"No. It's not my case, and you're a civilian. Stay out of this!" Kevan folded the paper and put it back down on the table. "I'd better head in though, show my face. Give the Super my letter."
Rayne looked up seriously at him as he pushed himself to his feet. Astonishingly, Kevan was not even stiff after the exertions of the last few nights. That gym membership certainly was doing him some good!
"You meant it then? You're really going to quit?" he asked in a quiet voice.
"I've been thinking about it for a while. This was just the push I needed," his mate answered, bending swiftly to plant a lingering kiss on his mouth. "I'll pick you up later. You've not forgotten we promised to pop over to Dave and Bern's tonight, have you?" he asked and Rayne shook his head with a smile that said he had but he wouldn't admit it. Kevan ruffled his hair like he was a little kid. "You be good. I'll know if you're not!"
"Spoilsport!" Rayne pulled a face at him and went back to his paper. He was still smiling though.
As he turned the page the sunlight glinted on the tiny diamonds in the ring on his third finger. The slight twinkling mellowed his dark mood as he re-read the article and an image began to slowly form itself in his head; a stray memory that had been dislodged from the dark corners of his mind by the story in the Manchester Evening News. Rayne put down the paper and fumbled in his coat pocket for his cigarettes and the battered matchbox he told himself he had kept there in case his lighter packed up. He turned it over in his long fingers studying the cellphone number written on the back of it in a hurried, shaky hand. Then he reached into an inside pocket for his slender mobile.
Later that same evening, when Kev got back from work, he and Rayne went over to Didsbury where Dave Ramsay lived with his partner Bernard. Rayne had visited them a few of times since he began to see Kev regularly and always enjoyed the evenings spent with the pair. The Dutchman, Bernard was as ebullient as his lover David was reticent. Dave was lean and wiry, Bernie was small, blond and tightly muscled. They balanced one another out perfectly though. Also Bernard was a terrific cook and always managed to tempt Rayne with some tasty morsel, even though the Vampire did not really need to eat food any more.
Kevan took a shower with Rayne at the Vampire's Manchester apartment before they set out and this, of course, was an excuse for quick, urgent sex; like they needed excuses at the moment! One minute they were kissing and soaping each other slowly under the hiss of the hot water, their nude bodies wreathed in steam; the next Rayne was in his lover's arms, up against the wall with his legs snaking around the bigger man's thrusting hips and Kevan was sliding into him easily, pulsing like a stallion between his thighs. They communicated in a private language of gasps and groans, yelps and sighs, clinging to the pipes and to one another as their bodies merged and surged in hot, needy collaboration. They came within seconds of one another, quite literally. Rayne exploded with a breathless bark of satisfaction, adding to the wetness slicking his lover's chest and belly, then Kevan's hands moved to his lover's thighs, gripping him tightly and spreading him hard to push deep inside him, filling him with extra heat as he growled with delight.
Rayne was still glowing half an hour later as they scrambled into Kevan's elderly Saab and his mate gunned the engine. He was conscious of the sensation of pure, blissful happiness. It was like walking around with a little generator inside him that pumped out warmth and well-being. The emotions were almost disconcerting when he tried to analyse them too closely, so he stopped himself whenever it happened. Like a child picking at a scab his thoughts kept wandering back to it though. Why on earth did Kevan make him so happy? What was it about this man that he had managed something long considered impossible by those who knew Rayne Wylde best?
"What are 'you' smiling at?" Kevan chuckled as he pumped the accelerator and the trusty Swedish technology growled into life under his foot.
"It's not illegal yet," Rayne reminded him, his lips still defiantly upward curved.
"It suits you," his mate told him, leaning over to plant a little kiss on them before he buckled up and they pulled out of the allocated space in the carpark for Rayne's apartment building, where the Saab had been living since the weekend. "I like to see you happy."
Rayne leaned back in the comfortable passenger seat and watched the city roll by as his mate drove. He was thinking more practically now as he asked; "Did you give the boss your letter?"
"No." Kev hesitated a moment before replying and Rayne looked a question at him, the smile not quite gone. "He wasn't in. His kid's got flu or something and the missus is at a conference in Paris."
"Lucky Missus!" Rayne chuckled quietly.
"I'll do it tomorrow. There's no rush, is there?" Kev slowed at the corner of Brook Street and Gower Street, gauging the filter on the traffic lights so that he did not have to stop.
"None at all." His lover flashed another smile to show him that it was okay. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something work related."
"Can't we do it tomorrow?" Kev asked at once. "I'm off the clock now, Ray."
"It was just an idea," Rayne murmured. "I guess it can wait too. Not like we can do anything about it tonight."
"Right," the bigger man agreed emphatically.
"I was thinking about that kid though, the one that got attacked," his pretty little mate persisted with a persuasive smile. "And I remembered something, Kevan."
Kev Delaney rolled his eyes and said nothing. When Rayne had a bug in his arse about something there was no letting it go.
"Does your colleague have any leads to go on?" the Vampire asked him determinedly.
"They've pulled the usual suspects in for a chat," Kev answered non-committally. "Look Ray, can we just stay out of this? It's not my case. It's nothing to do with you..."
"I think I might know who he is," Rayne said a little more tersely.
Kevan turned his head to stare at his mate. He was so stunned by this that he nearly went off the road.
"Kev!" Rayne yelped, reaching for the wheel as his lover checked the Saab's course just in time. He let the vehicle slow and pulled over.
"What the hell makes you say something like that?" he wanted to know once they were stationary and the indicator was ticking its rhythmic counterpoint to Kevan's rapid breathing.
Rayne shrugged a little then reached into the pocket of his long coat and pulled out the matchbox, showing it to him.
"About a month ago, after you pulled that weird trick on me with your old boss, McCall, we had a bit of a cooling off period, right?" he reminded Kevan.
"You mean, you deliberately stuffed the ring I bought you up his arse then refused to talk to me for days, yeah?" Kev corrected him.
"I didn't stick it up his arse. And you deserved it," his mate pointed out. "That's not the issue here, Kev. Something happened while we weren't talking."
"Let me guess..." Kev sighed and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Did it involve your flighty backside and a stranger's cock, perhaps?"
Rayne felt a little jolt of betrayal at that remark. Some of his earlier good humour fizzled out irretrievably and he turned his face away, looking out into the darkness, wishing he hadn't bothered to bring the matter up.
"If you're going to be a tit about it, let's forget it shall we?" he huffed turning back towards Kev and reaching for the matchbox.
Kevan held it just out of his grasp. There was a thoughtful little frown creasing his brow.
"So, some bloke wrote his number on your matches, meaning that you were probably in a public place and either he wanted to hook up with you somewhere more private or he wanted you in public again some time, seeing as how the first time was unforgettable. As it would have been, I don't doubt!" Kevan looked the question at him again. "Did he fuck you? The owner of this number, did he give you a good hammering?"
"Just... drop it, Kevan!" Rayne snapped at him, loosing his cool. He snatched for the little box again and Kev pushed him away more roughly this time.
"Tell me what happened? Why did you get his number, Ray? Was he 'that' good?"
"Just give me the matches. Please!" Rayne implored him. "We can talk about this tomorrow."
"He must have been good if you're so reluctant to lose his number," Kev sniped, putting the matchbox into the breast pocket of his jacket. "I'll keep hold of the evidence then."
Rayne lunged for it, grappling with him on the driver's seat and cursing him furiously as Kev fended him off over and over.
"No. No, Ray! I told you, no! You're not having it back. How many times have you seen this creep while you were supposed to be with me, huh?" he demanded, still struggling with his mate.
"I'm not 'seeing' him! It wasn't like that... I was 'hungry'!" Rayne barked back at him.
"You're 'always' fucking hungry! Hungry for 'cock'!" Kevan yelled.
Rayne let go of his hands, huffing furiously, his gaze incandescent. When he had overcome the temporary paralysis this accusation brought on, he delivered a cracking slap to Kevan's face and reached for the release catch on the door. Strong hands grabbed his upper arms at once and pulled him back into the vehicle where he lashed out defensively.
"Let go of me!"
Kev pulled his lover into his arms and rolled onto him on the passenger seat using his whole body to keep Rayne pinned and still. He folded around the thrashing, snarling creature beneath him, not fighting him now but trying to subdue his rage.
"Shhhhh.... Shhhh Ray! Stop it! Stop it, now!" he ordered more firmly. "I don't wanna hurt you."
"Don't fuckin' flatter yourself!" Rayne twisted under him, burying his face in his arms, stifling the sobs in the material of his heavy coat. "I could kill you 'this' easily!"
He whipped out a hand, the middle finger raised in tremulous defiance. Kev's hand folded around it and the mortal kissed it slowly. The heat of his flushed face and rapid breathing seeped into Rayne's skin and somehow soothed his rage. He stopped resisting and pulled his hand away, curling up, fighting the sobs until he felt physically sick from holding back.
"Shhhh..." Kev breathed into his hair again. He held his lover close and rocked him gently. "Shhhh... I know. I'm sorry!"
"You're pathetic!" Rayne shuddered.
"Yeah, I know!"
"Your mind's constantly in the sewer!"
"For sure it is," Kev murmured against his ear, making him quiver again. "I'm sorry, baby. I was jealous. If you're gonna be with another guy I want to be there too, I want to watch and help him; show him what you like."
"You're a dirty bastard! I hate you!" Rayne sobbed, shaking his head. He burst into tears, for possibly the first time in decades. Occasionally he lost control and let a little emotion slip but it was quickly back in check. This had been building in him for months though and now he could not hold it back. To think that he had been so happy when they got into the car. And he had managed to ruin it in less than ten minutes. He sobbed and sobbed until he thought he would choke. Kevan just held him, curled around him, his hands moving in slow, reassuring patterns on his lover's shuddering body.
"Ohhhh shhhh," Kev whispered into his ear. "Don't cry, princess. Please! I'm sorry... I really didn't mean to make you cry. Just get mad at me like I deserve and we can call it quits, huh?"
Rayne shook his head helplessly. He was still hiccuping and weeping inconsolably beneath his mate.
"You're right," he sobbed at last, wrapping his arms around his head, girding himself for absolute damnation. His thumb slid between the middle fingers of his left hand, rubbing against the solid warmth of the ring. After tonight the space on his finger would feel cold and empty for all of eternity. "I went with him. I got in the car with him and I sucked him off, as much as he wanted, and then I let him strip me. He wanted me to be younger and I let him think it was true. And he fucked me up the arse. And then we put the seat back and he fucked me again. He kept asking if he was my first, promising to teach me. I just wanted his blood, but if he'd let me suck him off it was enough... enough to keep me sane! Enough to keep me h-huh-human! Except I'm not. I'm 'not' human! I'll never be warm, or normal, or... faithful to anyone again. I 'can't' be, I'd starve or go crazy. And I 'hate' it! I've 'always' hated it!"
He broke off and wept helplessly and Kev pulled him closer, kissing his cheek and his tangled hair. When Rayne finally judged that his lover was not about to blow a fuse, he turned slowly in the bigger man's arms and reached for Kevan. Tiny sobs still caught in his throat as his mate gently kissed him on the mouth, hugging and stroking until Rayne stopped shaking in his arms.
"I'm sorry..." the little Vampire whispered at last.
"It doesn't matter," Kev said neutrally and he knew that it did. It mattered more than anything but Kevan would not risk losing him over it.
"No... You're too good to me. I don't deserve you," Rayne protested huskily. Warm fingers touched his lips, stopping the words. Kevan kissed him again, long and hard.
"We've been here," he said when their lips parted. "We both know what the issues are. I know you're insatiable and you know that I kinda like that about you, in a kinky sort of way, so I'm gonna have to take the rough with the smooth, heh?"
Rayne struggled to sit up, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve like a child. Kevan did not try to hold him down this time. He stroked his lover's soft, ebony hair tenderly though.
"I need to tell you," he said dully at last. "It might be important."
"Well tell me then," Kev sighed.
Rayne swallowed a rogue hiccup and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He was mortally embarrassed at having succumbed to hysteria in a public space, in front of Kevan. If he could salvage any credibility at all from the situation it was his duty to do so.
"He wanted 'my' number but I wouldn't give it to him," he explained now. "He told me he'd enjoyed it, even though I was weird and I kept trying to bite him. He wanted to screw me again and he wrote his number down on the box; they're 'his' matches. He wanted me to ring him if I needed to be fucked."
Kev frowned, concerned at something.
"Have you called him since?"
"Not until this morning," Rayne said hesitantly. He saw the look of consternation deepen and quickly added; "It's not what you think, Kev. I couldn't stop thinking about it after we read that headline this morning. The boy that was raped, he said that his attacker wanted to be called 'Daddy'. And this guy... the guy I went with... he told me that. He said 'You can call me Daddy Bigballs.' And I was in the zone, Kev. He wanted a kid and... I dunno how I do it to them but he kinda believed that I was a lot younger."
Kevan's eyes narrowed and Rayne could see that he was thinking like a cop and not letting his heart run all over his head for once. He felt a shudder of relief run through him and bent his head.