Page 8

Sypher

July 13, 2023, New York City, New York,

I don’t know what made me do it, but the way he turned his back on me, the finality of his gait, the dejected silence of his retreat—it ignited a furious rage to well up deep within me and I was unable to control it. But seeing the pain, the hurt in his eyes when I flung him around, I knew I had messed up.

He was the one person in the world I never wanted to hurt.

Frozen, eyes wide, I captured his face and crashed my lips to his in a searing, desperate kiss. I kissed him with fierce urgency, the unspoken words hanging heavy between us, each touch a desperate plea, only to break apart when the door to his office opened.

“Oh shit. Sorry.” Silver gasped, backing out of the room fast.

With a shove, Dante pushed me away, then used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, his glare intense and furious.

“It’s alright, Silver. What did you need?”

“Montana texted. They got Illyria. He wants you to take Sypher home and babysit him. He’s not allowed to leave your sight.”

“He say why?”

“Does he ever?” The pretty bartender smirked. “I’ll let Montana know you agreed to house Sypher for the time being.”

“Why can’t I just go back to school?” I asked, interjecting.

“Gonna have to ask Montana that. All he said was you were staying where he can keep an eye on you,” the woman said, then turned to look at Dante. “That gonna be a problem, Pippen?”

“No. I’ll babysit Sypher,” he growled.

“Alright.” The woman smiled. “Play nice, boys.”

With that, Silver left Dante’s office, closing the door behind her. The second she left, Dante’s fist connected with my jaw, a sharp sting accompanying the sudden impact.

“What the fuck, Dante?!” I shouted, rubbing my jaw.

“You stupid redneck!” he roared. “Do you know what you just did? She is Montana’s favorite. She’s gonna tell him!”

Narrowing my eyes, a sneer tugged at the corners of my mouth, the muscles in my face tightening. “Now who’s keeping secrets, asshole?”

“Fuck you, Danny,” he clipped, stepping up to me. “You don’t know what I’ve had to do to get into this club. I can’t have you fucking it up.”

With a frown etched upon my face, I tilted my head to one side and scrutinized his features intently, taking in every detail.

“What the fuck do you mean by that?”

“Never mind,” he grumbled, turning away from me again. He was hiding something from me. Something he didn’t want me to know.

I stopped him, my fingers tightening on his arm, a jolt of adrenaline running through me. I forced him to meet my gaze, the intensity of my stare making him uncomfortable, and then I asked, “Why are you really here, Dante?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

He yanked his arm free, a furious flush rising on his face, and moved away, agitated. He was hiding something; his eyes darted nervously, and his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Something big, and whatever it was, it had him worried. The silence hung heavy, and with a tightening of my chest, I crossed my arms and leveled a threat at him. “You know I can easily find out—I have my ways—so why don’t you just tell me?”

Hanging his head, he sighed. “Danny. Please leave it alone.”

“Not a chance in hell,” I stubbornly replied. “You’ve been on my ass since day one about owning who I am and shit. Well, the same goes for you. You either tell me or I will find out myself.”

“I was sent here to size up Montana and the club.”

“Who sent you?”

Shaking his head, he looked at me. “That I can’t tell you. I’ve already told you too much. Can we please just forget this conversation and leave?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, my eyes never leaving his. “Yeah, we can leave, but this isn’t over.”

Dante proceeded to gather his keys and jacket in a swift movement while he made his way toward the door. He remained silent throughout our departure from the clubhouse and the entire drive to his apartment, offering no words or comments whatsoever. Despite the slight click of the lock and the quiet swoosh of the door opening as he stepped aside, his silence was deafening.

From the moment I first met Dante during my freshman year of college, he was consistently talkative and engaging, never exhibiting even a moment of quietude. The man always had an opinion, a witty remark or a story to tell.

He was never at a loss for words.

His movements through his apartment were jerky and anxious, almost like a silent film playing out before my eyes. He moved with a sluggish, jerky gait, his every movement hesitant and stiff, as if my presence made him deeply uncomfortable.

When he headed into his bedroom, I quietly followed, watching him silently remove his jacket and shirt. The only sound was the soft rustle of fabric. With a sigh, he kicked off his shoes, the sound echoing softly in the quiet room, and emptied his pockets, carefully placing each item in a bright green glass bowl on his dresser. Walking into his bathroom, I heard the shower start, the sound of rushing water filling the room. When he didn’t come back out, I walked over to the bathroom door, the faint scent of his soap drifting out, and leaned against it, quietly watching as he shed his clothes before stepping into the cloud of hot steam.

Stripping out of my own clothes, I joined him. The steam filled the small space, the scent of his leather and pine soap mingled with the hot water as he rested his arm on the slightly damp tiles, his head hanging heavy. His chest rose and fell rhythmically while he stood there.

I reached for his washcloth and soap. With a thick lather of soap on the cloth, I stepped quietly up behind him and washed his back, feeling the gentle warmth of his skin beneath my touch.

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I deserved it,” I said, rubbing the cloth between his shoulder blades.

He turned toward me and said again, “I’m sorry.”

With a nod, I observed him tilt his head back while the glistening droplets highlighted the tautness of his muscles, which gradually eased as the tension melted away. The sound of the water now a calming roar.

When I wiped my face and opened my eyes, I saw Dante looking at me with curious intensity.

When he just stared at me, I questioned, “Problem?”

Shaking his head, he replied, “Just can’t believe you’re here.”

“Where else would I be? Montana told you to babysit me, remember?”

He smirked at that.

Taking his washcloth from my hands, he stepped to the side, allowing me to stand under the spray as he soaped himself up, his eyes scanning and taking their fill of my body. I didn’t realize how tightly wound I was until the warm water pounded my back, loosening the knots and easing the stress. I’d been kept in that musty mailroom for God knows how long before Montana finally let me out and only because he needed me.

Standing under the spray, I witnessed Dante’s cock twitch and stiffen in size. His eyes, now filled with hunger, traveled up my body, lingering on my chiseled six-pack and well-defined pecs before meeting my own surprised hungry gaze. I had to give it to him. The man could go from moody to horny in a fucking nanosecond.

Yet, when he caught me staring at him, he looked away in a hurry, and I saw his knuckles whiten, his jaw clench, and his eyes dart nervously, betraying his composure.

He was denying himself.

Which I thought funny ‘cause that was my thing.

I resumed showering. I became aware of a shift in Dante’s body language, his furtive gazes in my direction while I showered, betraying a change in his demeanor. The steam, hot and swirling, seemed to writhe and pulse, mirroring the blatant sexual tension he exuded. While an internal debate raged within him, I looked at him fully and this time, he did not break my gaze.

Reaching for my dick, I stroked it.

Dante immediately mirrored my moves.

Slow and deliberate, every muscle in my body tensed while I remained perfectly motionless. Looking directly into his eyes, I felt a rush of desire as I pleasured myself, my cock responding eagerly. Dante’s handsome phallus also reacted swiftly, becoming larger and more robust. The intensity in his eyes and the set of his jaw made it impossible for me to mistake what he wanted.

Stepping toward him, he unexpectedly went down on his knees, took my hard shaft in his hand, and started sucking eagerly. As he squeezed his rock-solid cock with his free hand, he devoted his mouth to my shaft, expertly switching between sucking, licking, and tenderly caressing it with his tongue.

Closing my eyes, I threw my head back and moaned as I willingly gave myself over to him.

“Fuck, you’re good at that.”

A low moan escaped Dante’s lips as he doubled down on his feverish activity, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Dante had a crystal-clear understanding of his own desires and identity, leaving no room for confusion. Those stolen moments, filled with unspoken understanding and clandestine joy, were what defined me. Without them, I’d be someone else entirely.

My affections were spread across both genders, yet my love for Dante was singular and unparalleled by any other relationship I’d ever experienced.

I didn’t go hunting for other men. My relationship with Dante simply developed naturally. His charisma was so strong that I didn’t even notice others around me when he was present. He filled my entire field of vision, both literally and metaphorically.

Only him.

I felt an inexplicable fascination with Dante. Something about him resonated deeply within my soul, reaching me on a fundamental, elemental level, pulling at my very being. I found his company to be enjoyable, and I felt comfortable enough with him that I could confide in him about anything and everything. A sense of peace and contentment settled over me when he was around.

Everything felt perfectly right. His influence on my life was profound, and because of him, I became a significantly better person.

Holding onto the back of Dante’s wet head, I urged him to take more of my cock until I could sense him gagging softly.

“You like that?” I moaned softly as Dante nodded while expertly using his tongue and continuing to suck. He continued eagerly, driven by his hunger for more, until I bent down and lifted him up, so we were face-to-face, both filled with desire and eager for further intimacy. As I did this, Dante’s gaze lifted to mine, a flicker of apprehension in his usually confident eyes.

“What do you want?” I asked huskily.

“I—” he faltered.

I shoved him roughly against the slick, cool tiles of the shower wall, pinning his arms above his head with one hand. Leaning in closer, I pressed my body against his, intertwining our cocks with my free hand and proceeding to move my hand up and down. A soft moan escaped Dante’s lips as his knees nearly gave way. His head tilted up to meet my lips in a tender kiss. Pulling back slightly, I searched his face for clues, but he thrust his face forward, demanding more.

His hips moved in perfect harmony with my stroking, urging me to deepen our kiss. Dante’s surrender was evident in the way his tongue danced with mine.

I deepened the kiss, the taste of his lips a sweet surrender, our tongues in a passionate dance. I reveled in the intimacy. His tiny whimper, barely audible, made me pull back as a wave of sympathy washed over me.

“What do you want?” I asked again. “You know the answer.”

With a sharp tug, Dante broke free, his kiss fierce and consuming, before he turned and slammed himself against the wall, the cold tiles a stark contrast to the fire between us, his tight, firm ass grinding against my rigid cock.

I moved forward, wrapping my arms around his warm, athletic torso, my fingers tracing the outline of his nipples, burying my face in the scent of his neck. Slowly and deliberately, I asked again, each word carefully enunciated.

“Tell me what you want.”

With my cock snugly tucked between his ass cheeks, he whispered back in a hushed tone, “I want you to possess me completely,” before his breath quickened with anticipation.

I spread his legs wider with a little more enthusiasm, then kneeled down to tease his tight entrance. Carefully and playfully, I massaged his tight hole with my tongue to prepare him for what was to come. Once I had him relaxed, I focused on my tongue’s movements, increasing my pressure while I explored deeper, pushing past his boundaries. Each lick sent shivers through him. His whimpers escalated into soft cries of pleasure as he seemed to experience heightened sensitivity everywhere.

Rising to my feet, I positioned myself behind Dante, feeling the heat emanating from my pulsating, rigid member as I prepared to enter him, connecting with the essence of his being. Gripping his hips firmly, I pushed forward slowly and steadily, relying on my saliva for lubrication. As I pushed inside, a low groan escaped from him, causing me to slow down my movements. However, Dante, eager for more, reached around and firmly gripped my backside, urging me to quicken my pace.

With a growl, I pushed forcefully, burying my stiff cock deep within him while he moaned in response. With a tight grip on his hips, I pushed my fingers into his skin, my thrusts powerful and commanding. His body convulsed with pleasure as I targeted his prostate, turning his whimpers into deep guttural grunts. Dante’s desperation for more was evident as he pushed back with increasing intensity, seemingly unable to satisfy his craving for my cock.

Feeling a need for more, I took a step back while still inside him, lifting him up in a tight hug and carried him into his bedroom. As I sat on his bed, I spread my legs, and he began bouncing enthusiastically on my swollen shaft. Reaching around him, I jerked him off while fucking him but halted when he grabbed my hand, stood up, then turned around to face me, straddling my legs and opening himself up even more for my thrusts as he slid back down on my throbbing dick. He bucked and rocked on my cock, taking what he needed from me. It was a moment charged with eroticism. I watched him, reveling in the unique intimacy that came from one man being intimate with another.

Dante then looked me in the eye and said, “Fuck me on the bed, Danny. I want to watch you cum inside me.”

That was all the encouragement I needed, a spark igniting a fire of determination within me.

I skillfully lifted him, feeling the warmth of his skin against my hands, and laid him gently on the soft mattress of his bed. Crawling towards him on the bed, Dante threw his legs wide open as I took hold of his hips and angled him into the perfect position. With precision, I thrust deeply, intensifying my pleasure.

With deliberate slowness, I extended my movements, going deep and pulling out long, cherishing the sensation of each push like it was a new experience. With a strength that surprised me, Dante squeezed my arms, his body pressed against mine, urging me to explore the mysterious depths of his being. With slow, sensual movements, I prolonged his pleasure, my gaze unwavering as I looked deeply into his eyes.

He moaned. “I want to feel you cum in me.”

I slammed back inside him, and my balls slapped his ass.

Fueled by desire, I positioned his legs on my shoulders and pushed myself as far as I could go. I felt an intense desire to penetrate his snug, welcoming cavity with my heated essence. Dante’s cries of pleasure became stronger as I started powerfully thrusting.

“Yes. Oh fuck, yes, Danny!”

A sudden, sharp cry sliced through the air and Dante shouted without warning. With a look of ecstasy in his eyes, he cried out, “Oh, God, I’m cumming!” as he ejaculated forcefully, coating us both with his hot release. As Dante orgasmed, his ass clamped down and that was all the encouragement my cock needed as I roared out my own release, my balls pumping semen deep into his ass.

My whole body trembled with intense pleasure, each spasm feeling like a cascade of multiple orgasms. An intense and powerful wave of exhaustion washed over me as soon as it ended, and I collapsed on top of him. With my cock still throbbing inside him, Dante embraced me tightly, his hand tracing a soothing path up and down my back.

“Sorry, I’m probably crushing you.”

“I like you crushing me.”

I chuckled and made no move to get up.

Laying there in his arms, I tried to calm my beating heart when he said, “I don’t like lying to you.”

“Then don’t.”

“Can I trust you, Danny?”

Sitting up, I looked down at him. “You know you can.”

“If I tell you, I need you to promise me that whatever happens, you won’t say anything to anyone. Ever.”

“Dante, you’re freaking me out. Just tell me what the big secret is?”

Taking a deep breath, Dante looked up at me and asked, “What do you know about the Trick Pony?”