Prologue
I wanted to title this book as Marcus and Spencer, but the editor, for obvious reasons, wouldn't let me. My name is Marcus Kane and my partner is Tracey Spencer. I say partner in its fullest sense, as we are both male and we sleep and have sex together. Tracey was and still is a practising homosexual, while I'm just practising at the moment, for I don't know if I was one before I met Tracey, and that was only, what, sixteen days ago.
That was in a transvestite night club called the Blue Parrot in Berlin. Tracey was the star of the cabaret, though it wasn't for him or the others that I was in there, but other business. It seems I got into a fight with three men, getting shot in the head, a wound really, but it caused amnesia. I killed the man who'd shot me and one of the others died later in hospital. The third man escaped with a broken arm.
Now I don't remember this, but was told later by Tracey, for he hustled me out of the club, blood pouring from my head and took me to an hotel. I can only date my memory from the following morning when I woke up to find Tracey astride of me and using my erection to fuck himself with. It appeared that I had also fucked him twice during the night and he was very pleased that I had done so.
I must have enjoyed it for I then fucked him at least twice a day if he wasn't sucking on my tool. It came to pass that I wondered what it was like being fucked for he seemed to get a great deal of pleasure out of it. His prick was nearly half the size of mine when erect, so I didn't think it would hurt if I let him do it to me. I too found out that it was enjoyable as well as sucking on him when we did it mutually.
He kept calling himself Mrs. Kane to my amusement and came to love him as much as he loved me. So for the sixteen days, we fucked and sucked and told each other that we both loved the other. That was between us getting shot at and almost killed nearly every other day, and not only in Berlin, but in England too.
Following various clues as they occurred, we broke up a counterfeit ring in Berlin and found out that it was all being orchestrated from England. But also that it was being done all over Europe and the head of this organisation was Sir Bernard Brakestone of Brakestone Manor.
On arrival in England to follow this up we were shadowed and chased by the Special Branch, so I didn't know who I was working for or on which side of the fence I was. It was only after meeting up with ex-army fellows that I had a small army to raid Brakestone Manor and seize money and documents to cripple the whole enterprise, though the king pin managed to escape. When picked up by the Special Branch and taken to the Foreign Office, was then I found out that I worked for them and had been undercover to do the very thing I had done without knowing it. I also learned in the few days before that I was a wealthy man and owned four large houses just off Whitehall and got substantial rents from the apartments that these houses had been turned into. My apartment was in one of the buildings and it was to here that Tracey and I moved on being told to take a month's leave from a knife wound I'd received about five days earlier.
There was much more to it, but I've only given you the brief outline of what had happened over those sixteen days and little bits of my past that we'd gleaned from other people, so we were greeted by Charlie, an ex-sergeant who'd served with me and had been on the raid at the Manor and was currently the caretaker of the house with my apartment in it.
Chapter One
'That was very thoughtful of Charlie,' said Tracey as we entered the apartment, pointing to the flowers placed in a large vase on the table in the entrance hall. He'd paused to touch them and then looked into the big mirror on the wall behind them. His hand went to the side of his head to fluff up his hair a little. It was one of these little feminine things that endeared him to me, not to mention the dresses he wore or the sexy underwear that turned me on every time I saw him without the dress.
He was about five foot eight without the high heeled shoes, and had the most beautiful face I'd ever seen on a man and was framed by hair that hung to his shoulders and curled up nicely at that point. It wasn't blond, but a very light brown and the cuffs and collar matched and had no need to dye it. His eyes were blue and always sparkling and he made them seem wider by the careful use of eye shadow. Make-up was kept to a minimum for he didn't really need it as his lips were all ready quite red and not overfull but just right for kissing. His mouth wasn't too large either but just the right size to take the head of my cock in and still be able to use his tongue on me at the same time.
It was when he was only wearing his underwear that I would really get a steaming hard on, for from the back you would swear it was a woman. His shoulders were not that broad and across his back would be the padded bra strap, his back went down to a very slim waist that many women would envy. But then came the suspender belt that held up his stockings that really caught the eye for the belt and the stocking tops framed the cheeks of his bum. They were round and firm and had muscles that had to be felt to be believed and looked so perfect that I had the constant desire to touch and stroke them, the cleft made it look like a peach that gave you the desire to bite and taste the succulent flesh. It was into this cleft that I loved to put my cock. To nuzzle the hole that was usually hidden and to feel him wiggle as it touched him and when teased enough, he would beg me to put it inside and fuck him.
This I would do at least twice a day for I loved him, not only to look at but to fuck and he loved me to do both, and as often as I could.
'Yes, they're lovely,' I said about the flowers and moved behind him and kissed his neck and looked up to see the two of us framed in the mirror. With his high heels on, he was only about two inches shorter than me and I rested my chin on his shoulder as I looked at our reflection in the mirror and watched his face open up into his lovely smile. My eyes are as blue as his but have that look of age in them, for I had found out that I was thirty years of age whereas he was only twenty. My hair is dark and in a half light would be taken for being black. Light eyebrows, unplucked as his were, a straight nose and an almost square chin. White teeth without any fillings and I could see that I needed a shave. That was one area that Tracey was lucky for he only needed to shave once a week and that was only to remove bum fluff at that. I was also still wearing a plaster over the head wound from that pistol shot in Berlin, but I thought that I would soon be leaving it off for it was healing nicely as was the knife wound in the side. The strike that was made on me would have killed me if I hadn't caught a glimpse of my attacker and had been able to turn in time. I'd caught hold of his arm and we fell out of the bathroom we were in, into the lounge where I managed to get up on top and having lost my gun, got my hand and arm round his throat and broke his neck.
It was in Bill Tolliver's place that he'd just ransacked that we fought. He'd already tried to get into my place but Charlie had stopped him from entering. Tracey had known the man having gone to school with him in the East End of London. He had been one of the gang trying to stop me that I had now broken up with the two leaders, the brother's Boyle, now in police custody.
I had been stitched up in a hospital and needed the dressings changed each day which Tracey saw to, and the stitches were due to be removed within the next day or so as that wound was healing nicely as well.
