Rewriting Singularity Ch. 07

The kitchen door opened to a puff of smoke, and through the haze I saw Hec standing on top of the kitchen table, taking the batteries out of the smoke detector, while Charlie fanned a large pan of blackened pasta she'd just placed on the virginal counter-- the oven door was wide open, smoke billowed out.

"Damn," I said, disappointed. "And it was a casserole, too."

"Well, you won't be having that tonight," Hec said, snapping the cover back on the smoke detector and bouncing the battery in his hand. The ceiling fan whipped around on high, and the smoke churned around the room like a maelstrom. My eyes burned.

"Sorry, Jake," said Charlie. "I must not have been watching the time."

"More like distracted," Hec said under his breath as he hopped off the table smack at my feet.

"Oh, like you weren't eavesdropping too?!" Charlie blurted out, slapping the singed potholders on the counter.

"Seems like we're all to blame," Kate said, changing the subject. "Guess it's sandwiches for dinner."

Charlie threw open the outside door to the kitchen, and cold air rushed inside. I stood staring into Hec's face. He wore a huge grin-- and Charlie's face was as frigid as the air. They heard me alright. Every word.

"Fine with me," I said. "I was thinking about having a sandwich a little while ago anyway." My teeth chattered with the last few words. Fuck, I was cold. First hot, now cold.

"You alright, Jake?" Hec asked.

I shivered and nodded. "Just chilly."

"Go sit out in the dining room-- I'll make you a sandwich-- it's one of my specialties. You'll love it."

"Sure I can't help?" I asked.

"No, you go sit down," said Kate. "You're the guest, remember?"

She was trying to get rid of me. I looked at Hec for a nod, and then I went out into the dining room. Kate shut the door behind me for privacy.

I sat down, wondering what in the devil they were talking about in there. The Last Temptation of Christ? Global Warming? Hot Cross Buns?

Hec came out about 15 to 20 minutes later, more than enough time to make a troop of hungry teenagers sandwiches. Kate and Charlie excused themselves as Hec set down two plates, one for me and one for him with sandwiches neatly cut on the diagonal and chips on the side. I took a bite as Charlie threw Hec an odd look, then followed behind Kate.

I chewed and focused my attention on the vision sitting next to me. His eyes filled with mischief and his lips curled in satisfaction. Home-baked bread, yum. Layers of turkey, ham, mayo, some kind of cheese-- warm and gooey. Banana peppers, lettuce and tomato. And Hec, equally well put together with more layers than I'd ever be able to decipher.

"What do you want to drink?" he asked

"A beer would be nice," I said with my mouth full.

"Sure you don't want something stronger?"

"I'm fine."

Hec whisked away through the kitchen door and came back a few moments later with two Heinekens in hand and set mine in front of me.

I twisted the cap and took a swig.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, thankyou," he smiled. "In advance-- just in case I'm too winded and forget to thank you later."

I noticed he was blushing. God, I wanted him-- I was hot all over again.

We both ate silently, both taking peeks at each other between bites. Hec took care of the plates when we were done and came back fast.

"Ready for that tour?"

"You bet."

I followed him through the kitchen. Such a nice ass to follow, too--

I carefully observed those buns of steel, keeping a nice distance so as to get the full effect.

He led me to the old servants quarters converted to laundry room to the stairs-- the one staircase I'd never gone up.

"These stairs were used by servants to get to the master bedroom-- that's my room. It leads to a back hallway and then to the corridors off each of the rooms."

This place was hot too. Either my heavy sweating and breathing were from checking out the exquisite flex-and-release action of his ass, or I was coming down with something.

We reached the top.

"My room is at the end of the hall here."

I followed. I liked this tour-- straight to the point-- not like one of those tours given by docents, elaborating on the rich history of the home. Not that I wasn't interested, it was just that at that moment my interest was in making a bit of rich history with Hec. Between the sheets. Or on velvet. In that bed.

There it was. The end of the hall. The door.Hisdoor. He shot me a sly look and opened it.

Hec stepped in. I stood looking, this time not at the room but the man before me. He coaxed me in with a shy grin. I followed and closed the door.

I boldly stepped over to the bed and sat down.

"Who's been sleeping in my bed?" he asked, bouncing down next to me.

"Ah, fuck. You got me, Papa Bear. It wasme." I slid in closer, grabbed his arm and reined him in. "Except I didn't sleep."

"Oh, so what did you do?"

Both my hands got wound up in the back of his shirt, pulled him tight to me, then tipped him back, and we flattened on the bed.

"I wondered how you slept with all those lustful images carved above and Blue Boy below," I gazed up and pointed.

"You have been a busy snoop. But to answer you-- I haven't slept too well-- but you're wrong as to why I stay awake."

"Enlighten me, oh wise one."

He chuckled as he half sat up.

"You see, the thrill you get from erotica wrapped in brown paper and depraved carvings doesn't last," he said, pulling at my sweat-drenched shirt over my head. "I need someone to share my interests. Someone who appreciates my taste. Someone who will carve out something with me." I helped him off with his shirt, then unzipped his jeans. "Help me select the wood, make sure it's hard, prepared, then polished."

I reached inside and traced my thumb around his cock.

I let my fingers graze-- down, down, down.

So nice.

"I find the carvings very--instructive," I said.

He slid into the center of the bed, leaving me behind for a moment, sprawling out as he did so. His jeans sliding over his hips, cock free. I slipped them off the rest of the way, then got rid of my damp denim. I glanced over and noticed Hec admiring Mr. Happy standing free.

I crushed his lips with mine, searching for that bold tongue-- that tongue-fuck. Instead, he toyed with me, flirted-- tongue demi pliés. With every feather touch, I tingled clean down to my toes.

I panted and squirmed as he plucked my nipples. I returned the favor, then rolled on top of him. Contact. Friction. We went from light pets to hard rubs. We wrestled and rolled and laughed and writhed.

"Good, so good." I liked Hec's encouraging words. At last, he went up on one elbow and his tongue targeted my ear. Magic tongue blundered around the outside then took the plunge, playing "Skip to my Lou" in my ear canal. I hummed as kisses trailed from my earlobe across my jaw. His lips came together with mine, open-mouthed and wet.

That kiss--his devil tongue. My hand pulled at the back of his neck.

"You're really hot," he said, breaking the kiss.

"Thanks."

"I mean you're burning up."

"So I've been told."

"No, I mean you have a fever."

"I sure do-- a fever for you."

"Maybe we shouldn't do this if you're sick."

"I'm delirious-- delirious for you."

"Now I know you're sick."

"Number seven."

"What?" he asked.

I pointed. "Number seven."

He shook his head. "Number nine."

"Number seven."

"Number nine."

"I said,number seven."

"Alright, only because you're sick, but I'm on top-- I don't want you to over-exert yourself."

He rolled over, and I rolled after, not wanting to be far from his touch-- I'd smother him with every inch of me if I could. He reached under a plump pillow and pulled out a condom and lube.

"Aren't you prepared?" I observed.

He tore the wrapper with his teeth. All my senses peaked and played in slow motion-- I watched Hec's warm eyes, eating me up. The feather-soft bed. His long fingers deliberate as he rolled the condom down my cock. The lube cap popped open. Hec's hands shiny and cool as they buttered my length. Then he slid over me, one hand steady on my thigh the other helping me bury my fingers inside him.

"A good guide expertly leads his clientele to the proper destination."

So tight. I loved his deep, throaty moans as I push-pulled my fingers.

"I'm ready," he groaned as my fingers slipped out as he pulled away, "to finish this tour."

Hec straddled me. Lowered himself down onto the tip of my cock. I whimpered; he gasped. Knees bent, he impaled himself down to the root of my cock, then he rode me as I thrust wildly, thumbs digging into the dense flesh of his thighs. I moved my hand up and took the shaft of his cock and jerked. I looked into his dark eyes and I was gone. A few more jerks and he was too.

He collapsed next to me, belly against my side, breathing hard into my ear as he laughed, "That was amazing."

All I could do was nod. He tied off the rubber, wadded it up with Kleenex and tossed it under the bed. After, kisses covered my throat and nose and lips. I sighed, and we hugged and mumbled goodnights.

Moments later, I was asleep, curled up in a living blanket.

When I woke later, the room was dark. My eyes adjusted.

It was like a call-- or maybe a pull. Light from the full moon bathed the small table. I slipped out of bed naked; I glanced behind. Hec snored-- such music, song as beautiful as the box on the table, his chest rose and fell, slow and rhythmic. I hesitated, then walked silently across the room. The music box was as I had left it, still open. I looked inside. Shadows dipped and fell, but I could make out its contents still: the handkerchief wrapped neatly around what called to me.

I reached inside. This time I felt no cold. I lifted it out. From the size and feel I guessed it was a small book. Slowly I unfolded each layer of the handkerchief. First one flap, then the next.

A diary. And I had the key.

Hec stirred. I hurriedly wrapped it back up, but as I did I heard metal drop to the floor. I watched something shiny roll off under the bed. I hastily put the diary back in the music box.

I stopped. Hec's snores quieted. I had to smile. He looked boyish with his hands tucked under his head. He seemed to be sleeping.

I stepped next to the bed and knelt down onto my hands and knees. Hec did not move. I looked under the bed. The moonlight gave it away. A ring. I picked it up, rolling it between my fingers. A simple gold band. There was something engraved on the inside.

As I turned to be able to read it better in the moonlight, I heard Hec move.

"Let me turn on the lamp," Hec said. "You'll need better light to read it."