PART SEVEN -- UNIMAGINABLE
"Welcome to Chapter Seven of Underwear, the novel cycle with possibly the longest gestation period on Literotica. (I'm sure someone will correct me if that's not the case) I began writing these stories about three years ago and they're finally beginning to metamorphose into the series that readers have been demanding. A real, proper love affair for the Wylde One. (And she said it would never happen!) Expect drama, lust, hilarity, tragedy... all the stuff you know you're going to get from Rayne Wylde inc. In chapter seven our principal protagonists have a fight and go to a swingers' party. Enjoy!" - UNDERWEAR is the intellectual property of Josh Rose and Sadie Rose Bermingham. Any unauthorised redistribution of this material will be sat upon by a large woman in a thong from a very great height!
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Kevan had been wonderfully attentive since the night of their reconciliation. True to his word he had given Rayne plenty of space but he came round to the apartment every night after work. On the morning after their marathon lovemaking session, which had gone on all night and beyond, (firstly on the sofa then later in the shower and continuing in bed until long after the sun had come up) he brought Rayne ice-cream for his sore throat and Vaseline for his tenderised bum. Afterwards he let the little Vamp feed from him on the understanding that Rayne would treat him to breakfast when they were done.
Before breakfast could happen, he fucked his lover again, tucking a couple of pillows under Rayne's hips and thrusting like a randy dog into his raised arsehole, taking full advantage of the thick coating of Vaseline he had applied earlier. Rayne made no objection to this. He felt unbelievably horny, so much so that he actually began to wonder if this was not another phase of Vampiric development that he was going through.
Jabez had warned him that there would be times when he suddenly grew in strength or appetite. He supposed that it was not beyond the bounds of reason to suspect that he might become prey to a rapid escalation of sexual appetite. Or maybe it was just having Kevan around!
As Kev liked a full cooked breakfast and Rayne would not tolerate dead animal parts in his refrigerator they went out for breakfast each morning as the Vampire's treat. Today was bright and quite warm after the cold grey days they had been experiencing lately and they settled at a table outside one of the Canal Street cafes. Rayne sipped a huge bowl of black coffee and watched the world go by whilst his lover tucked into a plate of sausage, bacon, egg, mushrooms, tomatoes, black pudding and a couple of slices of fried bread that would have kept a small, starving, Third World village fed for a week.
"I don't know how you do that," he murmured, unable to even watch his mate eating. Just the smell of it was making him nauseous. "I don't know how you can put all that cholesterol in your mouth, let alone swallow it."
Kev grinned at him, unfazed.
"Given some of the things that 'you' put in your mouth that's a bit rich!" he remarked in a good-humoured tone.
Rayne gave up and went for a walk. He bought a newspaper and took his time returning to the canalside. By the time he got back, Kev had finished eating and two more schooners of coffee, milky and sweet for Kev, thick and black for himself, had replaced his plate.
"Have you seen this?" the Vampire asked, showing his lover the paper with a little frown.
The headline on the front page of the local rag was typically hysteric, screaming in block capitals about deviants and perverts stalking the Manchester streets. The article beneath was an altogether darker piece about a teenage boy from Salford who had been assaulted and raped during the previous evening by a man who offered him a lift home. The guy had apparently picked him up in the city centre not long after 7pm and driven to a deserted parking lot on the edge of Hulme where he molested the kid in his car, forced him to strip and had sex with him three times during the traumatic forty minute assault.
Kevan pored over it in silence, his expression grim. When he looked up his lover was watching him with a look on his face that he knew all too well.
"You're probably going to have to look into it anyway," Rayne Wylde said innocently.
"Not my case," Kevan pointed out, tapping the article again. "Sam Kapper's grabbed it. He always did like nabbing the twisted bastards. He's fuckin' twisted himself! He understands them."
"We could keep our eyes open, if we had a proper description," Rayne suggested, sipping his coffee.
"No. It's not my case, and you're a civilian. Stay out of this!" Kevan folded the paper and put it back down on the table. "I'd better head in though, show my face. Give the Super my letter."
Rayne looked up seriously at him as he pushed himself to his feet. Astonishingly, Kevan was not even stiff after the exertions of the last few nights. That gym membership certainly was doing him some good!
"You meant it then? You're really going to quit?" he asked in a quiet voice.
"I've been thinking about it for a while. This was just the push I needed," his mate answered, bending swiftly to plant a lingering kiss on his mouth. "I'll pick you up later. You've not forgotten we promised to pop over to Dave and Bern's tonight, have you?" he asked and Rayne shook his head with a smile that said he had but he wouldn't admit it. Kevan ruffled his hair like he was a little kid. "You be good. I'll know if you're not!"
"Spoilsport!" Rayne pulled a face at him and went back to his paper. He was still smiling though.
As he turned the page the sunlight glinted on the tiny diamonds in the ring on his third finger. The slight twinkling mellowed his dark mood as he re-read the article and an image began to slowly form itself in his head; a stray memory that had been dislodged from the dark corners of his mind by the story in the Manchester Evening News. Rayne put down the paper and fumbled in his coat pocket for his cigarettes and the battered matchbox he told himself he had kept there in case his lighter packed up. He turned it over in his long fingers studying the cellphone number written on the back of it in a hurried, shaky hand. Then he reached into an inside pocket for his slender mobile.
Later that same evening, when Kev got back from work, he and Rayne went over to Didsbury where Dave Ramsay lived with his partner Bernard. Rayne had visited them a few of times since he began to see Kev regularly and always enjoyed the evenings spent with the pair. The Dutchman, Bernard was as ebullient as his lover David was reticent. Dave was lean and wiry, Bernie was small, blond and tightly muscled. They balanced one another out perfectly though. Also Bernard was a terrific cook and always managed to tempt Rayne with some tasty morsel, even though the Vampire did not really need to eat food any more.
Kevan took a shower with Rayne at the Vampire's Manchester apartment before they set out and this, of course, was an excuse for quick, urgent sex; like they needed excuses at the moment! One minute they were kissing and soaping each other slowly under the hiss of the hot water, their nude bodies wreathed in steam; the next Rayne was in his lover's arms, up against the wall with his legs snaking around the bigger man's thrusting hips and Kevan was sliding into him easily, pulsing like a stallion between his thighs. They communicated in a private language of gasps and groans, yelps and sighs, clinging to the pipes and to one another as their bodies merged and surged in hot, needy collaboration. They came within seconds of one another, quite literally. Rayne exploded with a breathless bark of satisfaction, adding to the wetness slicking his lover's chest and belly, then Kevan's hands moved to his lover's thighs, gripping him tightly and spreading him hard to push deep inside him, filling him with extra heat as he growled with delight.
Rayne was still glowing half an hour later as they scrambled into Kevan's elderly Saab and his mate gunned the engine. He was conscious of the sensation of pure, blissful happiness. It was like walking around with a little generator inside him that pumped out warmth and well-being. The emotions were almost disconcerting when he tried to analyse them too closely, so he stopped himself whenever it happened. Like a child picking at a scab his thoughts kept wandering back to it though. Why on earth did Kevan make him so happy? What was it about this man that he had managed something long considered impossible by those who knew Rayne Wylde best?
"What are 'you' smiling at?" Kevan chuckled as he pumped the accelerator and the trusty Swedish technology growled into life under his foot.
"It's not illegal yet," Rayne reminded him, his lips still defiantly upward curved.
"It suits you," his mate told him, leaning over to plant a little kiss on them before he buckled up and they pulled out of the allocated space in the carpark for Rayne's apartment building, where the Saab had been living since the weekend. "I like to see you happy."
Rayne leaned back in the comfortable passenger seat and watched the city roll by as his mate drove. He was thinking more practically now as he asked; "Did you give the boss your letter?"
