The Farmer & Dale

Humid, steamy heat filled the bathroom. Water streamed from multiple shower heads, pulsing against firmly muscled bodies. Bodies, naked, slippery and wet that moved together with hypnotic rhythm. A guttural groan echoed in the glass enclosed grotto.

Dale groaned again. Pressed against the shower wall, arms braced, breath heaving, he welcomed each slow, deep, invasive thrust of Rick's thick, vein-wrapped cock as it filled him.

Rick's heated murmurs filled his ears. "Ah God, babe, you're so tight, so hot. Take me in, Dale. Yeah baby, take me in. Take me in, lover. Don't let me go."

Dale tightened his sphincter, holding onto Rick through each withdrawal. The sensation was exquisite. Rick had used some ultra slippery lube to prepare Dale, with the result that each movement was a hot, silky-smooth glide. His chute welcomed the thick, burning invasion, protesting the outward movement, seeking to hold that hot, solid mass within.

He felt pierced to his very core. Taken, pillaged, claimed. Loved. Each piercing thrust was a physical symbol of their commitment, each to the other. Rick's arms held him firmly, his hands caressing, arousing, driving Dale to the limits of his endurance. Eyes tightly shut, he wore a grimace of determined effort on his face. He fought to hold back his orgasm. Fought for every second of pleasure, every second of this precious joining.

Rick shifted. A slight bend of the knees, a tiny change in the angle of his entry brought his cock firmly against Dales nut with spectacular result. Dale's groans turned to frantic cries of agonized pleasure. His mind shredded. Any coherent thought fled as pure sensation pierced his gut. Rick's tempo increased. His words of praise, love and encouragement, deteriorated to grunts of effort as he de-evolved from modern thinking man into a primitive creature of instinct with but one need. To fuck, to breed one's mate.

Short staccato thrusts punched Dale's prostate again and again, the pleasure shocking, debilitating in its intensity. The first touch of Rick's hand on his rock hard cock triggered the explosion. Thick shots of hot cream splattered against the shower wall as he roared out his release. He felt the heated rush of Rick's seed fill him. The intense pleasure gathered in his gut, twisting, eviscerating him with sensation.

Rick's own guttural shout joined Dale's as he shot his load deep within the hot welcoming depths of his lover. Dale had tightened on Rick's cock to a near painful degree, milking his hard pulsing shaft. Rick thrust deep and held on, hips straining with hard, pumping undulations that echoed each rocketing burst of cum. Completely buried and flush against his lover, his buttocks flexed as he filled Dale and felt the backwash of his cum as it leaked from the tight seal of their joining, soaking his bush.

They rested for long moments, no words spoken as they recovered. The water continued to pelt their skin, soothing, easing muscles that moments before had been taut with effort.

Rick began the long, slow retreat, dragging his still semi-solid length from Dale's body. His movement drew a weak groan, a quiver and a few errant drops of cum from Dale. Rick smiled weakly. He felt overwhelming pride and satisfaction from having so well pleasured his mate.

"Come here baby." he murmured.

Turning a dazed and compliant Dale into the spray, he gently washed the remnants of their mutual release from Dale's body and then from his own. Rick shut off the water and directed a slowly rousing Dale out of the shower. With brisk but tender movements he dried Dale and was pleasantly surprised when Dale revived sufficiently to return the favor.

Dale rubbed the towel over Rick's face and hair. He dropped it around his shoulders and placed his hands on Rick's cheeks. Cupping his face, he leaned in for a kiss. One hand slid around to the back of Rick's neck, holding him, as the other hand continued to softly pet the stubbled skin of his face. His tongue delved between Rick's lips and slid inside. Swirling slowly, tangling with careful, sensual deliberation with Rick's tongue, Dale reveled in the heady, unique flavor that was Rick.

Their warm, damp bodies melded together, Rick's arms circling Dale, pulling him in. Cocks so recently well used, stirred and thickened only slightly. Eventually, Dale eased back, his eyes, intense green pools, meeting the almost dazed blue-green of Rick's.

"I love you, Rick Hunter." he murmured softly.

Rick's smile was angelic, "I love you more, Dale Vaden," he answered, "Come to bed."

Dale chuckled softly, "I don't think I have the stuff to go another round"

"Is sex all you ever think about, babe?" Rick teased. He pulled Dale with him into the bedroom of their hotel room. Pulling down the comforter, blanket and sheet, he urged Dale in.

"What do you say to some room service and a movie?" Rick asked as he settled next to him.

Following their plan to take a trip to New York City, Dale and Rick had made the arrangements. Deciding to take things at a leisurely pace, they opted for late flights. The trip began at Capitol airport in Springfield in the a.m. and ended at JFK at 9:15 p.m. Tired from the trip, and the endless, yet necessary, airport security, they arrived at their destination, The Four Seasons, in the heart of Manhattan.

They'd decided to stay in for the remainder of the evening. Tomorrow would see them playing tourist, taking in the sights of New York. Rick looked forward to the day with great anticipation. He wanted to see everything. The Statue of Liberty, Central Park, the Empire State Building and even Ground Zero, though he knew that would be a sad and sobering experience.

Dale had laughed when Rick told him of his plans, but seeing his partners enthusiasm, he soon waded in and they were planning several days of tourist activities. In the midst of their fun, they had a scheduled meeting with Dale's agent. Sarah Anscotti, had assured Dale that she was very interested in reading Rick's work. Dale was an important client, his work and opinion well respected. Dale's publishing company had been informed of his visit and contacted him. They were throwing a party one evening while he was in town and invited him and whomever he wished to bring with him.

Dale's visit coincided with the signing of another client whose books the publishing company was very excited about. In addition, they had just signed a very lucrative deal with two international and well known book chains. The publishing company was having a celebration. The owner of the company himself, a charming, older man that Dale had met several times, was putting in an appearance with his partner.

"He's one of us?" Rick had questioned, when Dale told him about the party

"Oh yeah. You'll like him. Steven Eddington, he's very sophisticated yet down to earth. He and his partner are very open about their relationship. His partner, James Duncan, is a lawyer. His firm handles all the legal business for the publishing company. They're partners in every sense of the word. They don't paw each other in public, but you can feel the love between them. It's how I see us years from now."

This confession had struck Rick straight to the heart. He'd pulled Dale with him to the sofa in the living room and cuddled with him, kissing and caressing him until the two of them were so hot they'd made love on the living room floor. Knowing that Dale loved him so much, that he envisioned them together all their lives, gave Rick such a feeling of warmth and security. He'd shuddered with the joy of it, the overwhelming rightness of it, giving of himself without hesitation.

Rick had truly and completely lost his heart to Dale. Dale for his part was every bit as committed. Any fears they had were completely laid to rest as daily, they meshed and melded, physically, mentally and emotionally.

Now in their hotel room, the adventure having begun, Dale agreed to the movie and together, giggling and teasing each other like children, they put together a feast to be delivered by room service.

When the food arrived, Rick donned a hotel robe to let the bellman in. After a whispered conversation, the young man left and returned ten minutes later, handing Rick a can of spray whipped topping. Rick gave him a generous tip and a wink that sent him on his way with a pleased blush.

"Just what do you think you're going to do with that?" Dale asked with mock severity.

"I happen to like whipped cream on my fruit." Rick answered, his expression completely innocent as he indicated the large bowl of freshly sliced strawberries, peaches, bananas, grapes, and apples.

Dale raised an eyebrow, "Remarks like that can get you thrown out of the organization, you know."

"What?" Rick dead panned, "I wasn't talking about you, babe. But now that you mention it..."

Dale smiled, "Maybe later, I'm hungry for food right now. We're not going to let all this go to waste are we?"

"Hell no!" Rick grinned.

They paged through the available movies and settled on Pirates of the Caribbean, both agreeing that Johnny Depp was hot little piece.

As they watched, they devoured their feast, both starving as they'd declined any food aboard the airplane. Partway through the movie, they finished their meal and settled back to watch, sitting propped against the pillows. Rick wrapped an arm around Dale's waist and snuggled in, his head resting in the hollow of Dale's shoulder. Dale's chin rubbed the top of his head, the movement bringing a soft contented smile to Rick's lips.

As the movie neared its conclusion, Rick slipped out of Dale's arms and retrieved the bowl of fruit, bringing it and the whipped cream back to bed. He sprayed the whipped cream over the fruit and the two of them fed each other bites of fluff-covered fruit, chuckling as juice and cream smeared their fingers and dribbled down their chins when they tried to stuff too much into their mouths.

Rick ‘accidently' dropped a slice of peach in Dale's lap and went searching for it. His search, had Dale moaning as the slippery piece of peach slid over his growing erection. Finally capturing the errant piece of fruit, Rick fed it to Dale. Declining the use of a napkin, he began to clean the juice from Dale with his tongue, an action that sent Dale back against the pillows with a groan.

Dale felt a cool foamy weight against his skin and looked down to see Rick decorating his groin with whipped cream. He groaned, smiling as Rick placed pieces of fruit in the rich cream and proceeded to eat his creation. By the time he'd finished, Dale was twisting and bucking under him, his cock a throbbing mass of sensation.

He sat up and took the whipped cream from Rick, "I need some of this dessert too." he explained to a grinning Rick. Rick, who had whipped cream dotted and smeared on his smiling face, was a sight that made Dale laugh.

Dale proceeded to design his own elaborate concoction of fruit and whipped cream, using Rick's body as his plate. Then he began to feast. His tongue swirled in the sweet cream, the taste of Rick's skin mixing with that of whipped cream and various sweet, mellow and tangy fruits. His mouth eventually made it to the tip of Rick's full erection which was leaking a sweet, honeyed liquid of it's own. Dale growled as he sucked in the unique flavor of his lover.

His mouth slid down the hot, solid length, his lips relishing the feel of the velvety smooth skin that covered the thick pulsing shaft that slid slowly over his tongue. Dale growled again, unable to contain the sheer animal satisfaction of having his mates cock so intimately, orally a part of him. He felt Rick's hands on his body, striving to move him. He growled a protest, holding tighter to his prize until he realized Rick's intension. He moved then, positioning himself over Rick, feeling his own fully erect penis engulfed in heated warmth.

A guttural groan rumbled from his chest, vibrating in his throat and mouth, transmitting to the slippery piece of meat he sucked at. Rick echoed his groan, the vibrations returning, sending quivers through Dale's tightening groin. He began to earnestly work Rick, sucking, laving and stroking with mouth and tongue.

Eyes closed, constant groans working their way into his mouth, he held on to his prize, lost in the silky glide of the thick column that filled his mouth. His own cock was near to bursting. Rick's groans sent a steady stream of shocking vibration through his cock, into his balls and up his spine. With a muffled roar, Dale released, his cock shooting thick spurts of cream down Rick's throat and into his mouth. Rick's own release followed immediately and Dale swallowed each spray of hot man-juice finding it sweeter that any whipped cream.

Drained, they released each other with slow gentle licks. Rick moved around and crawled up to Dale. Dale began to laugh weakly at the sight. Rick's face was still smeared with whipped cream which had somehow made it's way into his hair, part of which was standing on end.

Rick too began to laugh. Dale put a hand to his own face coming away with whipped cream. The two of them clung to each other, laughing hysterically at the crazy picture they presented. Finally sobering, they stumbled into the bathroom for a quick wash in the shower.

The bed, amazingly enough, had suffered very little damage beyond being rumpled as hell. They returned everything to the room service cart and Dale wheeled it out their door as Rick began straightening the bed. The movie was long since over and they shut off the television, settling into bed with satisfied sighs.

"I'll never forget my first night in New York." Rick murmured with a sleepy chuckle.

Dale snorted. "I just wish we had pictures. Your hair was blackmail material for the next ten years."

Rick gave Dale a slight pinch on the butt, causing Dale to jump. He pulled him back, spooning himself tightly against Dale, "You don't have to blackmail me, babe. Just keep treating me the way you do and I'll give you everything I have."

Dale wiggled contentedly against Rick, "Same here love, same here."

Sleep gently swooped in to claim them.

* * *

Waking late, Dale and Rick ate a leisurely breakfast before donning casual clothes and comfortable shoes. They wandered out of the hotel and onto the busy streets of New York. Rick was awed by the tall buildings, all the people and the bustle. Dale urged him along as Rick shook his head in wonder of it. It was all very different and exciting, but after breathing in a lung-full of exhaust laden air he knew that this was not a place he would choose to live. Still, this visit was proving to be an education in itself.

They visited Grand Central Station and ate lunch there. They rode the Staten Island Ferry and visited the Statue of Liberty. The Empire State Building was also inspected and admired with appropriate awe. Slowly they made their way through Rick's list, returning gratefully to the hotel at days end. Both were exhausted. After a quick shower and a meal delivered by room service, they fell into bed and immediately succumbed to sleep.

Their second day they agreed to slow the pace and found they enjoyed themselves more. They visited the Museum of Natural History and spent several hours, fascinated by the exhibits. After lunch they went to Central Park and took a leisurely stroll. Time's Square and Rockefeller Center got equal attention. By the end of the day, they were able to enjoy a wonderful dinner at a small Italian restaurant and returned to the hotel to make love. A more satisfactory end to the days activities.

Their third day was to be devoted to pleasure of a different kind. They lounged around the hotel until mid-morning, then met with Dale's agent, Sarah. She turned out to be a dark-haired, well- groomed, no-nonsense woman in her 40's who, after reading through some of Rick's work, pronounced it excellent, with great potential. She asked Rick if he had any ideas for a longer work, to which he replied in the affirmative. She urged him to write his manuscript and then send it to her.

"Rick, you should know, and Dale will back me up on this," Sarah told him, "I hold to some very high standards. I wouldn't care if you were married to the President of the United States, although that would be a hell of a drawing card, but if your work is not up to my standards, I won't represent you. I won't embarrass either of us by trying to get shoddy, sub-standard work published. Even if your partner is my best client."

"I've already told Rick that, Sarah. And truly," Dale added with a smile, "we appreciate your candor."

Rick nodded his agreement, "I don't want to ride on Dale's coat-tails. If my writing doesn't stand on its own, then it doesn't stand."

Sarah smiled and nodded, "From what I've seen here," she indicated Rick's binder of short stories, "your work is going to stand very well. It may even do some marching." she added with a grin.

Both men laughed and they rose, both shaking the hand Sarah held out to them, agreeing that they would see each other later at the publishing house party that evening.

As they hit the street, Rick let out a sigh, "Wow, she doesn't pull her punches, does she?"

"Nope." Dale agreed, "That's why I like her, she tells you the truth, lets you know where you stand. She doesn't try to build your ego. If you're good she lets you know, if you're slacking, she lets you know that too."

"This is a whole ‘nuther ball game' isn't it?" Rick commented. "I'm sure glad you're here, city boy."

Dale smiled, touched at Rick's sudden vulnerability. "I'll always be here for you, babe. You know that don't you?"

Rick paused and gazed into Dale's eyes. "I do know that." He looked around at the people who bustled by them in the street. "I so much want to kiss you right now. Can we go back to the hotel?"

"Oh yeah, my pleasure, lover." Dale stepped to the curb and hailed a cab.

* * *

Later that evening Dale and Rick drew many an appreciative glance to outright stares as they walked through the lobby of their hotel on the way to the party being thrown by Dale's publisher. Dressed casually in trousers, simple tees and blazers they were a very handsome duo.

Arriving at the party, they again drew the attention of many of those in the room. Dale, of course, was well known to the publishing house staff. They were immediately approached by Steven Eddington's assistant and made to feel welcome. He explained that Steven and James were running a bit late, but that they would be there soon.

Sarah was there and so they began their rounds of socializing, and chit chat. Many seemed eager to approach Dale, who with Rick at his side, was soon drawn into discussions of books and the publishing house's new deal. Rick excused himself to obtain drinks for himself and Dale.

He was approached by a very good looking man, Greg Jamison, an executive vice president of the company. Dale glanced in their direction. Noting their conversation and thinking nothing of it, he returned to his own. Five minutes later, Steven Eddington and James Duncan arrived. Steven and James greeted guest after guest as they made their way to Dale. Rick had not yet returned.

Dale gave them a welcoming smile as the two men approached. He genuinely liked this older couple, admiring not only their professionalism but the way they handled their personal life. He'd been quite sincere when he told Rick that this was what he envisioned for them.

Steven was a tall, distinguished looking man with silvery hair and rim-less glasses. At 58, he wore his age very well. James was several inches shorter, his hair dark, with silver at the temples. His intense blue eyes seemed to take in everything. Both men were well and fashionably dressed, exuding understated wealth and taste.