Jim Ellison, erstwhile detective, current Sentinel of the
Great City, lover of the cutest man on earth (Blair just to remind you all
again), walked the streets of his territory. He chased of interlopers, snarling
and displaying his triceps, biceps and every other finely tuned major muscle
in his body. How dare they move into his area? Besides, all the competition
was making it hard to pick up. He shifted in his leather pants, feeling,
with no little amount of arousal, the soft supple material hugging his butt
(and such a cute butt . . . but -no pun intended- I mentioned that before).
Looking across the street he kept an eye on his partner.
"How much?" came an interested voice. A very interested voice. A very
familiar voice. Spinning on his heel, Jim came face to face with none other
than GQ man himself.
The two men stood staring at each other. And kept staring. Rafe couldn't
believe his eyes. *Why would Jim be here? Under cover?* Jim couldn't believe
his eyes *Why could Rafe be here? Can't get any?*
"Rafe! Fancy meeting you here!" Both men turned as the bouncy bundle
of energy, Blair Sandburg, honey bunny to the Sentinel, and Shaman of the
Great City, sashayed up to the pair. Jim felt his hackles rise as Rafe's
pulse rocketed up and pheromones started pouring from the younger man.
"What are you two doing? A stake out?" Rafe asked, trying not to stare
at the front of Blair's jeans, or the outline of the nipple ring, or Jim's
incredible ass, or his unbelievable pecs or . . . He forced himself to pay
attention to Blair's description of their financial situation.
"So, I decided to come down here, and Jim couldn't let me come by myself
so here we are." Blair finished. "Jim, stop that" he scolded as Jim growled
at an encroaching john. "The whole point is that you have to let someone
"Jim doesn't like the idea of me and a stranger," he stage-whispered
to Rafe. "He's been sabotaging me all night. Do you know how hard it
is to get a trick with him growling at every guy that looks at me?"
The pout on the observer's face was too much. Rafe was suddenly hit
by a blinding inspiration, one that would solve his problems *and* help
Jim and Blair with their cash flow problem. The other two men could practically
see a light bulb glowing over his head, probably a hundred watt bulb at
"Hey guys, I have a proposition for you . . . "
"Oh. My. God." Blair moaned as he saw the bedroom. "This is incredible!"
Rafe looked happily about the room in his house. It had been showcased
in "Homes of the Underappreciated" three times. Money had its benefits,
but only when people recognized that you were indeed wealthy. It also had
it's drawbacks. Simon refused to give him anything more than the occasional
bit of work, failing to recognize good talent when it crossed his path. But
Rafe was content to interrupt meetings with the occasional message and be
the deliverer of files, so long as it didn't mess up his suit. The one time
he really got involved in a case he had been drugged and hit on the head .
. . twice. No siree, the quiet life
was just fine with him. He was more than content to let Jim and Blair
live in the limelight. Until tonight.
"So just how rich are you?" the observer continued.
"Blair! That's rude!" Jim admonished, wondering exactly how much Rafe
had paid for the satin covered oval bed that dominated the room. It had
a canopy that softened the red light that filled every crevice. *Ohhh. Touchy
feely,* he mused as he ran a hand over the faux fur blanket that draped
over the bottom half of the bed - or was it the top half? - or the side half?
*how does one halve an oval anyway?* he wondered.
"That's okay Jim" Rafe replied as he carefully hung up his suit jacket
in the walk-in closet equipped with floor light to guide him in the case
of an emergency. "I believe the term is filthy rich."
"Cool." Blair stood in front of the large picture that occupied most
of the back wall. He tilted his head one way, and tilted it the other. "Is
that even *possible*?" he asked trying to figure out exactly how one of
the figures could fit *that* into *that* while the other figure was doing
"Oh yes, But I've been told that it requires a lot of concentration."
Rafe stepped behind Blair and placed a hand on his shoulder guiding him
back toward the bed.
"So, I understand that you have a rather large debt," he said as he
slowly slipped the T-shirt off the younger man.
"Yeah, we haven't been living within our means." Blair reciprocated,
efficiently unbuttoning Rafe's starched shirt, as Jim made headway on the
buttonfly of Blair's jeans. Blair sank onto his stomach on the bed spreading
his limbs wantonly. Rafe struggling to undo his own well-pressed pants as
Jim insisted on sniffing his neck. Rafe cleared his throat as he gazed at
Blair's upturned ass. Jim pushed him down between Blair's legs and the three
of them writhed together, skin on skin.
"Well, in today's financial climate it's important to keep savings."
Rafe moaned as he urged Blair to his hands and knees, scrabbling in the
bedside table for a length of leather and the lube. Blair groaned as a deft
hand wrapped the leather strip around his cock and balls, keeping him from
coming, despite his desperate desire to.
"Unfortunately, the necessities of life didn't allow for us to put anything
away." Jim grabbed the lube and reaching past Rafe, began preparing Blair
with the efficiency of . . . of . . . well, he was just efficient okay?
He spooned behind Rafe, pressing his erection against the other detective's
ass, undulating urgently.
"My accountant would be happy to help you take stock of your options."
Rafe slowly stroked the buttocks that clenched in anticipation, stroking
the cheeks in time with Jim's gentle exploration of the small hole. Blair
began to whimper as another hand, Jim's or Rafe's he couldn't tell - but
did it really matter? - began stroking the length of his cock, exploring the
wiry hair that obscured his balls.
"I've heard that with stocks rising, deflation isn't really a worry
right now." Jim interjected as he stroked Rafe's cock with lubricated fingers,
stroking, teasing and circling the head until Rafe cried out, dripping copious
amount of liquid onto the silk sheets. *Note to self: bring sheets to dry
cleaner* In tandem, the two large men moved forward and Jim slowly
guided Rafe into Blair who thrashed his head and groaned as the hard cock
impaled him and rubbed insistently against his prostate. Blair pushed back
against the hard intruder, wanting more, needing more.
"That's right, inflation is pretty high, but that can definitely be
an advantage if you play the market right." Rafe managed to gasp as his
balls connected with Blair's ass. The younger man threw a wicked look over
his shoulder and deliberately squeezed his internal muscles, threatening
to send Rafe into orbit. But he managed to hold on and began to pull out,
almost completely before pushing back into the moist heat, thrusting slowly
and holding firmly onto Blair, keeping him from increasing the pace.
"Sounds good, although right now there are very few options that I'm
really interested in." Jim growled as he decided to get into the action,
feeling a bit left out. He grabbed the lube again and stroked one hand down
Rafe's back to the swell of his incredibly inviting ass. Rafe bent over
Blair, exposing himself to Jim's sensitive gaze, even as he continued to
pump in and out of the man beneath him. The Sentinel bent and laved Rafe's
perineum, stroking with his tongue where Rafe and Blair were joined. The
resultant screams made him chuckle. Blair was moving to an internal rhythm,
frantically trying to buck back onto Rafe.
"How about bonds?" Rafe asked as he dangle a pair of handcuffs with
a hand he temporarily freed from teasing Blair.
Jim grinned. "Bonds are good."
Jim moved up the bed and took Blair's right wrist, locking the steel
around it, idly wondering if the average policeman really made good use
out of the required equipment. He looped the chain around a post that held
up the canopy and then attached the remaining cuff to Blair's left wrist.
The Guide was unable to keep on his hands, forced to rest his weight on his
elbows. The change in position tilted his ass up, allowing Rafe to thrust
"I'm sure we can find some that yield a high return." Rafe croaked as
Jim slid into him, the sensation of filling Blair and being filled by Jim
pushing him further toward the edge. Jim began to unleash his strength,
fucking the detective with powerful thrusts. Rafe pulled the improvised
cock ring from Blair's rampant erection. The observer began to pant and
gasp, spasming as Rafe changed the angle of the thrusts, bumping against
his prostate in firm, insistent thrusts. Rafe was in ecstasy, unable to
choose between moving forward into the tight ass in front of him or back
onto the incredibly hard shaft that was moving in and out of him. The decision
was soon made for him as the channel surrounding his cock spasmed hard. The
resultant orgasm caused sparks in front of his eyes, sending his own convulsions
around the cock in his ass. The three men came; screaming (not a girly scream,
thank you very much) on the part of Blair, shouting on the part of Rafe,
and groaning on the part of Jim. They collapsed, careful to pull out and
avoid crushing the person beneath them.
"I think that was definitely worth two hundred thousand dollars."
"Thanks Rafe, we appreciate it."
"No problem. The contract is okay with you?"
"Oh yeah, man. Sex on demand for a month. Who could resist?"
"I'll have my banker make out a check in the morning. Is Jim okay?"
"Yeah, you know how wild cats kinda go comatose after mating? Well Jim
likes to get in touch with his primitive side. He'll wake up in about two
hours. Some steak tartare always helps."
"I definitely think this is the start of a wonderful partnership."
"You know Blair, it always pays to diversify you know. Perhaps Simon
would be interested in making an investment. We could have a shareholder
meeting to discuss being multiple partners and merging of assets..."