Man In Motion - 21. Arrested

December 12, 1985

Paris, France

“We have to go down and get him out,” I said adamantly

“You think I'm just sitting around playing with myself?” JP asked rudely, which was completely out of character for him. If he could lose it like that, it was the surest sign that the stress levels at the apartment were so high they were off the scale. “Within an hour I have managed to track down the best criminal defense attorney in France; I have rousted him out of his office, and he is on his way down to the court.”

I sighed and relented. “I'm sorry, Dad. You're moving mountains. I just can't stand seeing him arrested for something I did.”

JP frowned at me. “Brad, you are not helping things. Quit saying that. We don't know, for a fact, that you killed him. You didn't see him drown. And when you say that, you just incriminate yourself for no good reason. What if they plant bugs and you shoot off your mouth?” I was going to argue with him, to debate the nature of the “facts” he questioned, but I realized that he was right.

“Alright Dad, I'll keep my mouth shut as long as he's out of jail, but before he goes to jail, I'm going to take the rap. He didn't do it; I did.”

JP looked at me with total frustration, then became resolved. “I'm going down to the station.”

“Let's go,” I said. He was about to protest but he saw my expression and just sighed and motioned for me to go with him. “Stefan, we're going to see if we can spring Robbie. You're in charge of the boys. Don't fuck them.” I couldn't help but chuckle at that, and neither could Stef. JP went to say goodbye to Mouse, and then we headed downstairs to the limo JP had called.

“Did Stefan tell you that he wants you to move to Malibu?” he asked.

“He did. You want me to move?” I asked, teasing him. “I mean, I can totally see why you would.”

“No, because then I’d have to travel to bail you out,” he said, making me laugh. “I would miss you, you know that, but his idea has merit.”

“I have to get Robbie released and get us both back to the US without the threat of further incarceration,” I said, like that would be an easy task. “Once that’s done, then I'll see if I can convince him.”

“Stef has built quite an empire. None of us have given him enough credit for that,” JP said, sounding like a sage, and a little guilty. I knew that Stef had some latent resentment against the family, and JP in particular, for not acknowledging exactly that. “Stef has decided that you are to be his heir, to take over the reins when he's gone. That's an opportunity that most people only dream of, and an opportunity for you to achieve some pretty great things for yourself and for our family.” In other words, this was bigger than Robbie, in his opinion, and he, Frank, and everyone else would put enormous pressure on the poor guy to go along with it. I suddenly felt very proud of Robbie. All of these people were manipulating him and pulling his strings, and had even tried to play on his sexual frailties, yet he had done a good job of asserting himself. It would be good to be back in California with him, enjoying the beach and enjoying life.

I chided myself for being a complete idiot. Here I was, planning this Pollyanna life on the beach, while I was probably going to spend the bulk of my adult life in a French prison. I was about to launch myself into a downward spiral, the result of which would be my getting really depressed and having a pity party, but that wouldn’t help Robbie. Thinking of him, knowing that I needed to stay strong, helped me buck myself up just as the car arrived at the police station.

We wandered around, trying to get information about Robbie, only to find that his lawyer was in with him. We got this information from a different attorney who wanted to talk to me. He was a handsome guy, probably in his mid-40s, with jet black hair and penetrating dark brown eyes. He had the accent of someone raised in the South, probably Navarre. “I am Albert Degasseau. Your father has asked me to represent you, to watch over your interests.”

“I didn't know that I needed an attorney, or that one was being hired for me,” I said, glaring at JP. He ignored me and went off to check on Robbie, probably more to avoid my wrath than anything.

“It is always wise to hire an attorney. Of course that is self-serving on my part,” he said, flashing his smile, bright white teeth contrasted by his olive skin.

“I'm sorry Mr. Degasseau,” I said, caving in to his charm. “I just wasn’t expecting it. You are right; it is a wise precaution.”

“First of all, you must call me Albert, and I will call you Brad,” he said, and shook my hand as if to solidify this change in our relationship.

“Alright, Albert,” I said, smiling back at him. I briefly felt guilty for flirting with this lawyer while Robbie was behind bars.

He sensed my mood and his tone got serious. “We need to take some time to talk privately,” he said. “I sense that until we get a status report on Mr. Hayes, you will be unwilling to retire with me to my office?”

“You are quite astute,” I said, agreeing with him. He led the way further into the police station.

We wandered around the halls with Albert guiding me until we found the area where they held the prisoners. “If you will give me a minute, I will endeavor to find out what is going on,” he said, leaving me before he got a response. I saw JP standing against a wall looking very pissed off. I strode up and stood next to him.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“The cops here are assholes,” he said, his anger palpable. “It is a chance for them to play games with people they could not otherwise touch. I haven't been able to find out anything about Robbie at all.”

“The lawyer you hired for me is working on it as we speak,” I said. “He seems like a good guy. He wants to talk to me after we get an update on Robbie.”

“France has the same confidentiality rules for attorneys that the US has,” JP said. “Tell him everything.” I just nodded.

I saw Albert come out and look around for us. As soon as he spotted us he strode over. “I did not get a chance to introduce myself formally,” he said to JP, so they exchanged names and handshakes.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” JP replied. I gave them both dirty looks for letting etiquette delay our getting information on Robbie.

“My colleague is making short work of the prosecution's case. It seems they are basing their accusations on some, er, intimate pictures. These pictures have a date inscribed on them, and appear to have been taken in Mr. Gardner's apartment before he died,” he said. He looked at me nervously, concerned that he’d upset me by bringing this up.

“I am aware of those pictures,” I told him.

“The problem they have is that the pictures do not prove that Mr. Hayes harmed Mr. Gardner; they merely show that he was there at some point before Mr. Gardner’s death,” he said, shaking his head. “The police in this district are idiots. They arrest a man and they do not even know the victim’s cause of death.”

“Presumably their ineptness is good news for Robbie,” JP said.

“Hopefully,” Albert said to JP, then focused on me. “Your partner will be tied up for a few more hours at least. I am confident that after that, he will be released on bond. When they do that, I am certain they will require him to surrender his passport. Do you have it?”

“It is in the safe at our apartment,” I said.

“While that is being retrieved, I would like to talk to you about this incident,” Albert said.

I began to ponder how I was going to accomplish meeting with Albert while simultaneously getting Robbie’s passport, when JP stepped in and solved that problem. “You talk to Albert; I'll go get the passport,” JP said.

“Fine,” I agreed. Albert led me out of the station to a building nearby. It was convenient that it was within easy walking distance of the police station. He had a nice office, decorated in that gaudy fashion that French officials seemed to love. It should be called Cheesy Louis XV, 'Louis Quinze au Fromage,' I thought, joking internally.

“We have arrived,” he pronounced, as if we’d made some lengthy trek. “It is safe to talk here.”

“Okay,” I said, accepting his bonafides.

“I want you to tell me all about your relationship and your interactions with Mr. Gardner,” he said.

“It is a long story,” I said ruefully, then I began my tale. I told him about Robbie and me, how we'd been together since high school and how we'd gone away to separate colleges but had vowed to stay together. I explained how we'd grown apart, and how the rift had been finalized when Robbie had met Neil. I talked about our time apart, and how agonizing that had been, but how there’d been a happy ending since we’d been together since graduation.

“Robbie had you and that was not enough?” he asked, flirting. Was it a cultural thing that Frenchmen had to flirt with everyone?

“You are too kind,” I said as I smiled at him. “Neil had a hold over Robbie through, well, through sex.”

“And again, I am amazed that you were not enough,” he said.

“It wasn’t ordinary sex; it was a relatively kinky sex act,” I said. I definitely had his attention now. “Neil fisted Robbie.”

“I am not familiar with fisting,” he said.

“Fisting is where you insert your entire hand into the rectum of your partner,” I said sterilely, as if I were giving a lecture at medical school.

“That would seem to be quite a challenge,” he observed.

“Neil was apparently good at it. He used it to control Robbie, and the whole thing was pretty ugly,” I said. “Robbie's gotten beyond that.” I didn’t feel the need to share with him that I’d learned to do it too.

“I am glad he recovered from such an abusive relationship,” Albert said, with a level of sympathy that I hadn’t expected.

“It was a tough journey, but in the end it made him, and us, stronger,” I said. I used that to move the topic on and told him how Neil had come to France and that I hadn't known he was here. I told him about the day Robbie left our apartment and how I’d followed him.

“So you were in Mr. Gardner’s apartment?” he asked. I told him how I had snuck in and managed to avoid detection.

“Yes. I was in the closet. Literally, not metaphorically,” I joked. He laughed.

“You heard their conversation?” He asked.

“I did,” I responded.

“You can relate the part where Mr. Gardner was threatening your life?” he asked, so I did, trying to get the dialog down as closely as I could remember. “You were also there when Mr. Gardner forced Mr. Hayes to have sex with him?”

“I was,” I confirmed. He made me recount that, and smiled at how pissed off I was when I described them having sex.

“And after this was all over, when it was only you and Mr. Gardner in the room, that was when he opened the closet door, and that is when you attacked him?” he asked.

“It was,” I said, then got a little frustrated. “I didn't know what else to do,” I said honestly.

“So you acted in self-defense?” I rolled my eyes at that.

“If you stretch the definition,” I said. “I could kick Neil's ass any day of the week.” I told him about the tub, and something I'd only told Stefan. I told him I'd turned the water on.

“Perhaps you did not realize that at the time? Perhaps your sleeve accidentally activated the faucet?” he asked, trying to think of ways to explain it.

“Perhaps,” I agreed, but it would be tough for me to be sincere when stating that under oath. “I overheard Neil’s conversation with one of his stooges,” I said.

“Tell me what he said,” Albert prompted, so I recounted that as best I could. “Did anyone see you leave Mr. Gardner’s apartment?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “There was no one around when I left.”

“What did you do after you left the apartment building?” he asked.

“During his phone conversation, Neil agreed to meet someone at the Luxembourg Gardens,” I said. “I had no idea if this plan to abduct me was a big time operation, or just a couple of stupid thugs. I decided that the only way to get a clue about that was to go there.”

“That was very clever of you,” he said. “Did you discover anything?”

“I made a point to stay hidden, so I don’t think anyone recognized me,” I said to make that point. “I finally saw a guy that I’d seen with Neil before.”

“When did you see them together?” he asked.

“At a party in New Jersey,” I told him. “I had gone there with Robbie and Neil showed up with this guy. Neil was hanging all over him, trying to make Robbie jealous.”

“He must have been here with Neil. Do you know his name?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know it, but Robbie may. If you get a chance to talk to him, ask him.”

He paused and looked at his notes. “Well, if you were to go in and tell your story to the judge, you would end up in prison,” he said, shaking his head. “But you will not be telling that story.”

“I understand,” I said fatalistically.

He got up and walked around briefly, collecting his thoughts. “I am assuming that you do not want Mr. Hayes to, how do you say, take the rap for you?” He saw the outrage on my face and held up his hand. “Please do not be theatrical. I had to ask.”

“I will not let him go to jail for a crime I committed,” I said firmly. My words were emphatic enough that he got the point.

“I will see if I can find out the name of this man you saw, then we will try to find out if he is still in Paris. If he is, we will see if he can be detained.” He paced some more, only going more slowly.

“What will happen to Robbie?” I asked.

“I think that this is what we should do. We should see if the police tire of assembling evidence against Mr. Hayes and ultimately decide he did not do it,” he said.

“Will that work?” I asked skeptically.

“It is possible that they will become persuaded it is too big of a hassle to prosecute him,” he said. “If that is the case, you can both go back to the US, and this incident will be over.”

“And if that doesn't work?” I asked. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell that would happen.

“Then we will have a decision to make,” he said, frowning. “You may have to confess to save Mr. Hayes from a conviction. In that case, we will package your story to make it clearly a case of self-defense.”

“If that’s what I have to do, that’s what I’ll do,” I asserted strongly.

We went back to the police station and headed to Robbie's section. His lawyer was raising holy hell.

It was actually pretty funny to watch our lawyers badger the French police and prosecutors. They were pelting them with demands, demands that the police investigate this kidnapping plot and Neil's plan to blackmail Robbie, along with demands that they explore the possibility that there were other perpetrators. There have been many times that I was thankful that I was born into a really wealthy family, but none more so than now. These lawyers were descending on the court like flies on shit. Things were going well until the prosecutors claimed that Robbie could not be released without a hearing, and that a hearing couldn’t be scheduled until tomorrow. As hard as we fought, it was a battle that we lost, and the result was that Robbie was stuck in jail overnight.

“Can I see him?” I asked the lawyers. Albert went to confer with the police and came back.

“They are allowing you ten minutes. Say nothing,” he emphasized. “Everything is listened to.”

“I hope they speak English,” I said with a smile. He smiled back and I marveled at what a pleasant guy he was. “Did you want me to find out the name of that guy I saw?”

He pondered that. “I think it is OK to ask him that.” He was wary because he didn't want to give the police any hint that I had been there in the apartment, at least not yet. They shuffled me into a room with just one chair, with another chair on the other side of a set of bars. I saw them bringing Robbie into that side and cringed. He was in prison clothes, and they had him handcuffed.

“Are you OK?” I asked him as he sat down. I was dying. There was no way I could let him stay in here. I had to confess.

I'd spoken to him in English and he responded in kind. “I'm fine,” he said, and read my mind. He also sensed my resolve. “Brad. Look at me,” he said firmly, demanding my full attention.

“I always look at you when we’re in the same room,” I flirted, but he wasn’t going to let me distract him.

“Say nothing.” I looked into his eyes and I understood what he was saying. He was telling me not to confess, and that if push came shove, he was going to take the rap for me. I was going to argue with him, but I realized that it was pointless. If I tried to do that, it would just confuse things, and we could both end up in jail.

“We're going to get you out as soon as we can,” I promised.

He smiled at me. “I know you will. You and JP have been awesome. I have a really good lawyer.”

“Speaking of that, I have a question for you,” I said. He looked at me, waiting for me to go on. “Do you remember that party we went to in Princeton last spring? The one that Neil showed up at?”

“What about it?” he asked, obviously pissed that I'd bring that up now.

“I saw that guy that was with him at the party. He was here in Paris.” He looked at me, stunned. “Do you know his name?”

“Why is he in Paris? He'd have to be here with Neil!” he said.

“So do you know his name?” I asked calmly, reminding him to keep his mouth shut.

“Yeah, it's Jerry Kohl, K-O-H-L,” he said, then got more playful. “We called him Jerk, since it works with his name and since he beat off all the time, or at least he said he did.”

“There's a visual,” I said. The thought of that dude whacking off was dick-shriveling. “Do you have your own cell?”

“Why, you worried I'll be someone's bitch?” he teased.

“The other way around, stud,” I said, flirting. I'd gotten the info out of him that I needed, so I decided to at least have a little fun with him to try to cheer him up. I figured that would also keep us from slipping up and saying too much.

“I've got my own cell,” he said. “My lawyer made that happen, I don't know how, but he did. It’s kind of lonely and dreary, though. There’s nothing to do at all.”

“Do you want anything, like your books, or something else to read?” I asked.

“No. I'm going to rest and feel sorry for myself, then beat off thinking about you,” he said.

“Sounds like my night,” I said.

“Time is up,” said a guard rudely.

I smiled nicely anyway as I stood up. “Thank you for the time,” I said pleasantly. There was no reason to be rude and maybe they'd be nicer to Robbie if I was nicer to them. I grimaced, knowing that it probably wouldn’t make a difference.

Albert approached me as soon as I exited the visiting room. “Did you find out his name?”

“Jerry Kohl,” I said, and spelled it out for him.

“I guess you have no idea where he is?”

“Not really,” I told him. “I mean, I only saw him at the Luxembourg. I would assume he was probably staying with Neil. Do they have his apartment secured for evidence?”

“I will make sure they do,” he said. “Can you describe this man to me?”

“If you will give me a paper and a pencil, I will sketch you a picture,” I said.

He raised an eyebrow, then left only to return shortly with a piece of paper and a crappy pencil. “Thanks,” I said. I worked as fast as I could while still trying to create an accurate image. When I was done, I handed it to Albert.

“This is very good,” he said. “You are quite talented.”

I smiled. “Thanks. If you want, I can try to do a better one tonight.”

“This will do just fine. And now I have work to do, so I must bid you goodnight,” he said, shaking my hand.

I tracked down JP, who was talking to Robbie's attorney. “You ready?” I asked him. He nodded, and we walked out the door to find the black Citroën waiting for us. He was evidently unwilling to trust cabs at this point.“So will he get out tomorrow?” I asked.

“We are hoping. There is a hearing at 11am, so we must make sure to be there,” JP said. I started to relate my conversation with Albert to him but he stopped me. “It is not unknown for vehicles to be bugged.”

“Makes sense,” I agreed, but the need for secrecy just freaked me out that much more. I said hello to everyone, being as polite as I could, then I retreated to JP’s study with just him and Stef. I told them about my talk with Albert, and about this Jerry Kohl guy. I wondered if it would be a good idea if they found him or not? I mean, if he was with Neil, he probably wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. We might get lucky if he opened his mouth and ended up throwing out some damning statements. He was also a safe witness for me, because he wasn't there when I killed Neil. He didn’t even know I’d been in the apartment. He was probably clueless as to who had murdered Neil.

After our conversation I headed to my room, leaving JP and Stef to tell the others what had happened. I was exhausted and emotionally drained. I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling, hoping for some inspiration on how to solve this problem, but got nothing. The only thing that would probably calm me down was a good fuck, but since that wasn’t happening, I settled for the next best option; I reached over to my nightstand, pulled out a joint, and lit it.

There was a knock at my door in the middle of my second hit. I yelled “come in” but that somehow fucked with the smoke in my lungs and I ended up coughing and hacking. I looked up to find Stefan and JP staring at me, which annoyed me, but I handed JP the joint and got up to grab some water. “So what's up?” I asked after I stopped coughing.

Stefan took a hit from the joint and handed it back to me. The way he wrapped his lips around it and inhaled made thoughts of incest seem not so taboo. “I need to return to Malibu. Greg cannot live without me for very long.” We laughed. “I thought that it might be a good idea for me to take the two beasts with me,” he said, referring to Marcel and Lou.

“And why is that?” I asked.

“If there are still people after you, they will be targets. They will be safe in the States. And it will be good for them to be out of this hothouse environment.”

“I think Stef is right,” JP said, “but it's really up to you and the boys, Brad.”

“Did you ask them if they wanted to go?” I asked Stef.

“I did. I hope that was OK. I think Marcel's response was ‘Hell yeah’,” he said, making us laugh again.

I yelled for Marcel and Lou and they came bounding into my room. “You want some company?” Marcel asked with a slutty leer. He was too funny. I shook my head.

“Stef seems to think you boys want to go to Los Angeles with him.” They looked at me nervously. “You're just going to leave me here, all by myself? You'd rather be hanging out on the beach than with me?” I asked, faking a guilt trip. They chuckled, knowing I was just teasing. “Then go with Stefan. I'll see you as soon as I get back. And behave yourselves so I don't have to spank you.”

Lou grinned. “That makes me want to misbehave.” They headed off to pack. I was going to miss them, but it would be a relief to know they were safe.

I turned to JP. “Are you staying here or going back?”

“I am staying here until we get this resolved,” he said firmly.

“Thanks,” I told him.

December 13, 1985

Paris, France

JP and I stood outside the court, looking dapper and conservative in our dark suits. We were waiting for Robbie’s hearing, and opted to avoid watching the rest of the trials. Albert opened the door to the courtroom, caught my eye, and motioned us over, so JP and I dutifully followed him in.

The French love pomp and circumstance, so it was no surprise that in the courtroom there was an exaggerated process of reading announcements and forms before we started. “Your honor, we request that Mr. Robert Hayes be released on his own recognizance,” Robbie’s lawyer stated as soon as the preliminaries were over.

The prosecutor objected. “Mr. Hayes is accused of murder, someone who killed his former boyfriend in cold blood. We cannot afford to risk letting him loose on the streets.”

“The prosecution has no case against my client. They claim to have photos that show Mr. Hayes being sexually intimate with Mr. Gardner. Those photos show a date stamp, something that is easily forged. And even if those photos are legitimate, they show two men enjoying each other. There is no evidence that Mr. Hayes touched Mr. Gardner in a violent way. There is no proof he was at Mr. Gardner’s apartment on the date of his death.” He paused for emphasis, then continued with a fervent resolve. “The police and the prosecution have not even determined the cause of Mr. Gardner's death, so how can they accuse my client of murder? Mr. Hayes is an innocent man. It is unconscionable that he remain incarcerated.” Robbie's lawyer was impressive.

“Do we know the cause of death?” The judge asked the prosecutor.

“We are expecting an autopsy report shortly,” he said uncomfortably.

“Mr. Hayes will be released upon posting bail in the amount of one million francs, and he will surrender his passport pending the outcome of this investigation.” The lawyer looked to JP, who gave him a slight nod. That served to end Robbie’s hearing.

"I can get one million francs," I told him, as I mentally did the currency conversion to about $125,000.

“It has already been handled,” he said calmly.

We headed downstairs to wait for Robbie's lawyer to get him released. It ended up taking about an hour and a half until he came striding up to us. He gave me a big hug and held it for a long time, letting me feel how traumatic this whole thing had been for him. “I want to go home,” he said into my ear.

“Let's go,” I said.

“No, I mean I want to go home to California,” he said decisively.

“When this is over,” I said firmly. Here, in the courthouse after just getting him sprung from jail, was not the time to discuss our future plans. He gave JP a hug too, and then we headed out to lunch. We got home and went straight to our room.

“I need a shower,” he said.

“I'll join you.” I longed for the days when we'd made love without a condom, especially now, when we were in the shower. On the other hand, touching him, feeling him, and kissing him fueled my passion. I laughed to myself, deciding that we’d done our foreplay in the shower.

I led him back to the bed, slipped on a condom, and made love to him slowly and gently to match his mood. We didn't talk at all, so the only sound was our moans. It was intensely erotic. When we were done, I lay on my back and pulled him to me, getting a smile from him because I’d given up the position I liked so much so he could feel as safe and loved as he usually made me feel.

“So you saw Jerk?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I answered. “After you left I heard Neil talking on the phone to someone. He arranged a meeting at the Luxembourg, so after I, uh, knocked Neil out, I headed down to see who it was he was meeting.” I avoided admitting that I had killed Neil.

“And that’s when you saw him?” he asked.

“That’s when,” I said. “He looked a little confused, probably because Neil didn’t show up.”

“He's probably back in the US already,” Robbie said, then got really depressed. “I'm going to be stuck here for a long time.”

“We'll be here as long as we have to be,” I told him.

“You don't have to stay here,” he said. “Shit, I was willing to blow you off to go to school here. There’s no reason for you to stay here and deal with this shit.”

I reached down and squeezed his ass. “There are reasons to stay.” He kissed my nipple and then smiled up at me. “When we get out of here, Stefan wants us to move down to Malibu. He wants me to be his apprentice, to groom me to take over his empire.”

“He wants you to run his company someday?” he asked, and seemed surprised. I decided not to let his lack of confidence in me ruin the moment.

“It's companies, plural, you plebe,” I teased. “What's so surprising about that? You don't think I'm capable of doing it?”

“Are you kidding? You're more than capable,” he said. I looked at him skeptically. “I’m serious. You'll do great. It's just such an awesome opportunity. I'm happy for you.”

I stroked his hair. “It’s an awesome opportunity for us,” I corrected. “I'm not doing it unless you're with me.”

“I guess school is already fucked up for me. I won't be able to go to class and be in jail at the same time.” He sighed.

“You won’t be in jail,” I asserted strongly.

“Let's see how this all works out,” he said, avoiding an argument over which one of us was going to jail. “As it stands right now, I'm up for moving to Malibu.”

“You are?” I asked, not a little surprised. I was pretty sure we’d end up arguing about this, since it would totally ruin his plans to finish his Masters Degree at Berkeley.

“Yeah. Shit, life on the beach isn’t tough duty,” he joked. “Of course, you're assuming that I end up free.”

“There is no way you're going to jail for a crime you didn't commit,” I said firmly, to let him know this wasn’t negotiable. It was annoying that he’d dodged this topic a few seconds ago, yet now he was bringing it up again.

“You're not confessing to shit,” he said with a vehemence that surprised me. “I'm going to go through this whole process. If the end result is that they find me guilty, then that’s how it stands, and I’ll take my lumps.”

I shook my head. “I couldn't live with myself if you did that. There is no fucking way that’s happening.”

“I won't let you do it Brad,” he said, challenging me. He backed his attitude up and tried to explain his reasoning. “Look, if it weren’t for me, Neil wouldn't even have been in the picture. It's my fault that he was in our lives to begin with, and it’s my fault he was in Paris.”

“But I knocked him out..” I began to argue.

“Yeah, you were a hothead, but you had good reason to be,” he said, cutting me off. “This is my deal, so promise me you'll leave it alone.”

“No way,” I said firmly. “I can't do that.”

“Please,” he begged. “Do this for me. Please?”

He figured begging and pleading would work, but this was too big for that to matter. “This isn't just a simple case of me doing you a favor. It's a case of you taking the fall for something I did. Shit, the penalty for that could be 20 years. It's your life, and I'm not taking it.”

“You are not saying anything,” he said, changing tacks. “If you do, I'll confess to it myself, and tell them you're lying just to protect me.” I stared at him, shocked that he'd lie about it, and that he’d take things to this extreme. I was also really annoyed that his plan would probably work, and that he was almost forcing me to do what he’d asked me to do.

“So what am I supposed to do?” I demanded. “I’m supposed to just smile, kiss you goodbye, and go on with my life like nothing happened?”

“That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do,” he said.

“I can't do that,” I said, shaking my head. “I cannot do that.”

He moved up, lay on top of me, and pinned me down. I felt his hard dick poking against mine, creating a similar reaction in my body. “You have no choice,” he said in a sultry way.

“Oh yeah?” I asked, and raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his hard dick against mine and nuzzling my neck. “Do what I ask.” I opted to leave our argument behind and give in to my hormones.

The feel of his body on top of mine, rubbing me in all the perfect ways, shut up any of my residual objections. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him as tightly against me as I could while he thrust against me, using the friction to stimulate both of us. He moved his mouth down my body and took my dick in as deep as he could. I felt his finger push gently into my ass, and then he was probing me and sucking me at the same time. I just lay back and let him work his magic, letting him bring me to the edge. I was so close, then he backed off and let me calm down, then began all over again. He worked my body like it was an instrument and played me to one amazing orgasm.

He moved up to me, licking his lips. “Good?”

“Great!” I said. I saw the look in his eyes and I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to fist him.

“Please?” he asked, as he lay on his back. “I'm just in the mood today. I know we're not supposed to, but do you think once in a while would be OK?”

I ran my finger seductively up and down his crack while I grabbed the lube with my other hand. “You want me in you don't you?” I asked.

“So bad,” he said, and moaned.

I formed my hand into the beak shape of the silent duck. then moved it toward his mouth. “Kiss my hand,” I ordered. He went nuts, licking and sucking on my fingers. He was so wound up his dick was leaking like a sieve. I moved my hand down his body, rubbing it up and down his cock, making him moan like an old whore. I sensually moved across his balls and down his taint until I got to his ass. I fingered him gently, probing him with first one, then two fingers. “You ready to let me in, baby?”

“Oh god,” he moaned, and spread his legs even wider. “I want you inside me so bad!”

“Are you sure?” I challenged, as I pushed my hand into his ass.

“I am so sure,” he said. “I am yours. I am totally yours. You can do whatever you want to me.”

“I want to work my hand up your ass, and then I’m going to give you the most spectacular orgasm you’ve ever had,” I said, even as I pushed my hand in further. He threw his head back and moaned, then worked with me to make sure I didn’t hurt him. It took me a long time to get completely inside him since he hadn't done this in months. That could have been a buzz kill, but it was actually a lot of fun. We went slowly, talking as we went. I pushed my right hand in while I stroked his abdomen, his balls, his dick, and his massive thighs with my left. Nice, light, fleeting touches to contrast with the enormous pressure my other hand was exerting as I forced him open. I looked down and I was almost there. “How are you doing baby?” I asked him. He was panting.

“Good,” he muttered, because he was really stretched out now. “So fucking good.”

“I'm almost in,” I said. “Tell me when you're ready. You’re one more push away until I’m in you.”

“Do it,” he said. I slowly but firmly pushed my hand forward, and then, with a pop, I was inside of him. “Ah,” he cried, and I felt his ass throb and almost suck me in. I didn't waste any time, moving my fingers up and flitting them against his prostate. He screamed in ecstasy. “Yeah. More. More. More,” he panted.

I was having a fucking blast. I'd poke him gently, then use my fingers to barely touch his prostate, teasing him, and every move, every contact, seemed to send him into a state that could only be described as euphoria. I’d been playing around with him, trying to figure out which move he liked the best, and then I found it. I used the knuckle on my index finger to rotate around and over his prostate, and when I did, he came unglued. I smiled, so happy that I’d found the one thing that would really set him free. “You like that, baby?” I taunted playfully, but he was too wound up to answer me.

He let out a loud roar, one that everyone in the condo would hear, and just kept moaning. He was going nuts. I was distracted by some movement and I looked up to see Mouse standing there, staring down at us. I stopped using my knuckle on Robbie so he could calm down a little bit, which was a good thing since Robbie was pretty freaked out. He looked up at Mouse and seemed incredibly worried, worried that Mouse would think what we were doing was too kinky and too nasty.

“I'm sorry to interrupt guys,” Mouse said, even as he stared at Robbie’s throbbing cock and his ass, where it looked like my whole arm was inside Robbie. “I heard screaming and I wanted to make sure everyone was OK.”

“S'OK, Mouse,” Robbie said, still panting.

“Looks intense,” Mouse said, and reached down to lovingly stroke Robbie’s hair. “Looks like you're having fun.”

With that one gesture, Mouse had told Robbie that he wasn’t disgusted, that instead he thought this was hot. It warmed my heart to see Robbie’s fears evaporate. “Fuck yeah,” Robbie said.

“Hey, baby, can Mouse watch me make you cum?” I asked. I started to play with him again, making him moan.

“Yeah,” Robbie said, although he probably didn’t give a shit about anything at this point besides his orgasm.

“You know you want to,” I said, taunting him. “I want to really get you worked up and show him how hot it is when you blow your load.” Mouse was tenting big time.

“Yeah, Mouse,” Robbie muttered in between moans. “Watch me. Blow.” I started working him gently at first, just like I had before, really getting him fired up, but doing it gradually.

“Fuck, he's going nuts,” Mouse said.

“Watch this,” I said with a leer, that just made Robbie more excited. I started doing my knuckle thing and he lost it. He screamed again, moaning, and panting. “Watch me make him cum now, Mouse. Careful. It's gonna be big.” I looked at Robbie. “Blow you your load, baby. Show Mouse how good I'm making you feel.”

He threw his head back and screamed again, really loudly, and started to blow his wad. Mouse just sat there watching, eyes wide and amazed, as Robbie blew and blew. It seemed like he came forever, with me milking his prostate for every last drop.

Mouse grabbed a towel and gently wiped up the cum, while Robbie just panted and shook, still quaking from his massive orgasm. “Thanks guys. That was really cool,” Mouse said as he got up to leave. “It was really intense watching you. Thanks for including me.” He leaned down and gave Robbie a sweet kiss on his lips, then did the same for me, then he left the room, so we could enjoy ourselves and the afterglow.

I pulled out slowly, stroking his legs, his balls, and his taint, all to relax him. I took my time, just like when I went in, watching him react to my exiting him, to losing my hand inside him. When I was done, finally out, I wiped off my hand and scooted up, lying next to him on my side and stroking his chest.

I expected him to be ecstatic, but he wasn’t. “Are you OK with this?” he asked, concerned.

I laughed. “It was fun, baby. I had the best time,” I said. He grinned back at me. “You are so cute. I think it's OK to do this once in a while, as long as we don't get carried away.”

“No, I understand. It was just such an intense experience. I feel so close to you when we do that. It’s like there's no way to tell where you end and I begin.” he said. He locked his eyes on mine to make sure I could see how sincere he was. “I love you so much it hurts.”

“I love you too, baby. I love you too.” I lay down on his chest, sprawled across him, using my free hand to caress his body, and drifted off to sleep.