Spokes raced down 21st Street, keeping aligned with the stripe on the road, squeezing between the cars stalled in the late afternoon traffic. He needed to go twelve blocks to his next drop off and this time of day he knew he had to push it. He stood up and pedaled hard on his old bike, it stripped down to the basic necessities, scratched, scuffed, the bike having served him faithfully for five years of hard abuse. He raced between a taxi and some large SUV when he saw a car door open up ahead and he cut hard right in front of the taxi, angling to the open gap between the parked cars and first lane of traffic, a gap he didn't like to ride in for distracted motorist opening doors was all too frequent. At the next intersection he took advantage of the changing light to race back over, leaned over the handle bars, head down, pedaling hard, he raced up the street.
Spokes given name was Ryan but since he had been working as a messenger, a job he took when he was seventeen, earning the money he needed to take college classes at night he soon got tagged with the nickname. He struggled at first, learning how to read the traffic, the short cuts through alleys or little used sidewalks and the way to really ride his bike, to be able to get it through tough situations and not get his neck broken. And he had learned how to fall, to put the bike down, and it was the hardest lesson he had learned. It took a year but soon he was the go-to guy for the delivery service he worked for, the guy who could make a deadline even when the entire city was in gridlock and soon, like a lot of the others who had been messengers for a while he acquired the nickname.
Spokes was not quite six foot tall and lean, lean to the point some called him skinny, but after years riding as a messenger he was strong, the stamina to ride all day. Like this particular day that had started earlier than usual with the demanding time frames, the jobs that required cutting across downtown from one side to the other, and now this job, from one of the banks in the financial center all the way out to the old in-town residential district with it nineteenth century apartment buildings and side streets of townhomes mixed with small business districts that served the neighborhoods. He was relieved to find the traffic thinned substantially as he neared his destination and was able to get into a lane and stand on it, to pedal as fast as he could till sweat ran out from around his helmet and he felt that muscle burn in his legs as he pushed through it. He turned on Washington and began to watch the address numbers looking for 425, knowing it was close.
He wheeled up on the sidewalk at the address and found it was an old apartment building, one of the largest on the street, one that still had a doorman and reflected an elegance the newer buildings could only mimic. Bike locked up, the front wheel hooked to his messenger bag he made his way toward the doorman.
"I've got a package for apartment 3105" he stated at the elderly man, dressed in an uniform and giving him a disapproving look. Spokes knew how he must look to the man, him wearing his favorite cargo shorts, the leg openings frayed and one outer pocket torn so bad he could no longer use it. Then there was his t-shirt, the neck stretched out of shape, the arms ripped off and the front image faded and cracked from age and frequent wear, and it was soaked in sweat down his chest and back. His arms and legs had cuts and scratches and his shoes, black riding shoes that were not very old but already looking the worse for wear made for a rough sight he knew as he jogged up to the old man, his breathing labored.
"I can take the package and see that it gets to the right apartment" the man replied as he held out his hands for the package.
"Sorry man, but I've got to have the addressee's signature; bank request to make sure it gets to him."
The doorman hesitated, but knew how it was, all these important documents that had to have signatures that seem to arrive daily for some of the residents, some of which never left for a regular job, who he knew made their money in other ways. He looked up at Spokes and nodded is head.
"Very well, the elevator is inside to the right. 3105 is the penthouse on the top floor."
As Spokes made his way inside he didn't think much about going up to the penthouse, he had done so many times in the past in other buildings. The elevator was old and ornate and once the doors closed seem to move at its own deliberate pace. The doors opened revealing a small lobby area with only two doors. One labeled roof access and the other 3105.
He rang the doorbell and heard the chime inside as it rang out. It took longer than he expected but finally he heard the door opening and an elegantly dressed older man opened the door.
"I have a package for Graham..." and he looked at the package slip again to find the man's last name.
"That would be Graham Knolls."
"Yes, that's it. I have a package from a bank that I need to get his signature."
"Follow me" and the man turned and went through the foyer and into a large living room with large windows all the way up to the twelve foot ceilings. There were two sitting areas and a grand piano and through a doorway Spokes could see the dining room.
"Wait here and I'll get Mr. Knolls."
As the man left the room through a door it suddenly dawned on Spokes he had seen him before, just the other day. He had been making a delivery when he had come to a busy intersection with the light red and had to stop. He had been by a limousine, an older Cadillac model, its body a highly polished black, the rear windows deeply tinted. As he had waited at the light he realized a rear window lowered part of the way down but no one spoke out, or did anything he could see, except after a few seconds it was raised back up. When he looked at the driver he had been talking aloud in the front, obviously to his passenger and then he turned and looked at Spokes, right in the eye, not being self conscious at Spokes looking back at him. It had been the man who had just greeted him. The light had changed and they each took off, the limousine turning right.
As he waited the sweat kept running out of his hair and down into his face, so he pulled his helmet off and wiped his arm over his forehead. Normally he didn't care how he looked to others, how he wasn't dressed in some suit and tie, but standing in this space, its furniture appearing to be original modern pieces from the nineteen thirties and forties, the art work with styles that seemed familiar and the overall size of the space and he suddenly found himself self conscious of his appearance, his grubby sweaty state. He flipped his messenger bag around his body and opened it up pulling out the large manila envelope, wondering what was so important that this Mr. Knolls couldn't have done it over the phone or online, but then he thought this guy was probably much older, someone who didn't like computers, obviously didn't have to like them and preferred to do business the way he always had done.
He heard footsteps approaching, a fast steady pace, then the door opened and in walked a man of about thirty, neatly dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, his neatly trimmed dirty blonde hair perfectly combed. The man smiled at Spokes and approached him quickly.
"Mr. Knolls?" Spokes asked, surprised to see someone so young compared to his expectations.
"Yes, but then again I guess you were expecting someone older?" and he chuckled as he came up to Spokes. He held out his hand to shake, something no one ever did and Spokes took a moment to respond, to take the hand held out toward him.
"I'm Graham Knolls, and you are?" he asked in such a polite friendly manner.
Graham laughed and shook his head. "Surely that is not the name your parents gave you, but Spokes it is" as he shook hands, "I guess it is an appropriate nickname, no?"
"Yeah, the other guys tagged me with it after I'd worked a while with the delivery service."
"I see...well what have you got for me?"
Spokes handed Graham the envelope and his delivery slip that needed the signature with a pen which to sign it. As Graham signed his name Spokes really looked at the man in front of him. About his height, well built, his polo shirt stretched tight across his chest, his face masculine, with a strong jaw line and a nose not quite perfect, making him even more attractive. Spokes knew he should never do more than just check out the people he met in his job, never consider asking them out or even just flirting with them, and he definitely didn't consider flirting with Graham. In the past he had flirted with some of the people he met on his job, women he found attractive who seemed to like his rough looks and sometimes some of the men, men who wanted the fantasy of the delivery guy showing up at the door and delivering more than some box or envelope and Spokes had in a few instances acted out on those advances, found himself in locked offices, storerooms, even a stair well from time to time, but this time it seemed different, Graham had him in a position where he wasn't comfortable, outside of his usual domain. He pushed the idea aside, for Graham was someone from a very different part of society. Spokes looked around him once again, his sense of being out of place enormous. He lived in a small studio apartment in a barely refurbished warehouse building and he had to scrimp and save for his classes to the point of wearing old clothes he bought at Goodwill or some consignment shop, and he rarely got to go out to eat in a proper restaurant, most of the food he bought coming from sidewalk or truck vendors he passed from one destination or another. But just for a moment, a fleeting brief fantasy, Spokes wondered what it would be like to hit on Graham, wondered if he was straight or gay, but he knew it was a crazy thought and he let the idea fade away as he watched Graham use the envelope as a hard surface to sign his name and handed Spokes his pen and the slip back. He pulled out his wallet, thumbed through the bills and handed several to Spokes.
"This should cover it I think."
Spokes flipped through the bills and realized he was getting a large tip. He looked at Graham and started to ask if he was sure when he saw Graham nod his head it was right.
"You made it here rather quickly, much quicker than I expected. Maybe I could request your services for some of my more important delivery needs?"
"Yeah...anytime, give us a call. Just make sure to give us enough time to pick up the package. Most people tend to not think about the time needed for that."
"I'll do that, and if I wanted you in particular?"
"Just tell them you want Spokes."
Spokes made his other pickups and drop-offs, the whole time the few minutes he was in Graham Knolls' penthouse kept coming to mind, the pose of Graham and the elegant place he lived in that cost more than Spokes would make in his lifetime. On his last run, down in a warehouse district delivering some small part a customer needed, Spokes found himself coasting down a hill, sitting up straight, relaxed, just letting the warm evening air blow over him. After this run he would head back by the office and then to his place to change and head to his class. As usual it'd be after midnight before he got to bed where he would be asleep as soon he as settled his weary body down on the bed.
The next day he got a call from the office about a pickup and delivery. Spokes checked the pickup location and realized he had to hurry for it was back across town. He glanced at the delivery location and smiled. Graham Knolls' address flashed on his mobile. By the time he got to Graham Knolls' address he was soaked to the skin in sweat, the day heating up into the nineties and he had just rode hard for the last ninety minutes. He locked his bike, secured the front wheel to his bag and headed toward the door. It was the same doorman as yesterday but this time he was smiling, friendly in his manner and he held the door open as Spokes came up under the entry canopy.
"Good afternoon, sir; Mr. Knolls is expecting you. I trust you remember his floor?"
"Yeah, the penthouse...3105."
Spokes was soon ringing the doorbell and again the older gentleman opened the door but this time he stepped back, inviting Spokes to come on in.
"Mr. Knolls will meet you in the living room. I'll let him know you're here."
Spokes had to wait just a short time and Graham came into the room. He was wearing baggy shorts and an athletic top, all wet with sweat. Graham had a small towel he was wiping his face with as he came over to Spokes.
"Sorry about my appearance, but you arrived sooner than I expected, once again" and Graham chuckled and reached out for the package Spokes was holding for him.
"I don't think I have any room to criticize your appearance" Spokes replied causing Graham to look up at him, his eyes alive and curious, the blue a bright shiny blue and he smiled as he his eyes roamed down Spokes body, his lean frame within the baggy shorts and t-shirt.
"No, I guess not" Graham replied as he handed the signature slip back with several bills folded up together. "Although I guess you being all sweaty is a little more noble it being your job while mine is just several rounds of tennis at the club. Damn that sounds elitist, doesn't it" as he laughed in the friendliest manner. "What kind of bike do you have?"
"Well, it is sort of a custom built rig, single gear and..."
"And no brakes, right?"
Spokes looked at Graham wondering if he thought he was just another crazy bike messenger he had read about, but there was something in his manner, friendly, casual, that made Spokes relax.
"You have a bike?"
"Yeah, a little road bike I've had for a few years now. Riding in the city is a little too harrowing for me but I still ride regularly, usually back into one of the neighborhoods and around the park. You ride for pleasure or is it all work?"
"Sometimes" Spokes replied wondering if he was reading Graham right.
"I guess I should let you go but would you be interested in riding one Saturday or Sunday? I have a small group of guys I ride with and they are so out of shape I have to hold back. Might be nice to bring someone in who can kick our asses."
Spokes was surprised at the offer and hesitated for a moment not sure if Graham was serious or not. Then he slung his bag back over his back.
"Sure, I usually have free time of Sundays to just get out and knock around. You want me to call...or ..."
"Give me your number and I'll see if the guys want to ride this Sunday. I can't wait to see you ride them into the ground" and Spokes could see a competitive nature rise up in Graham. He reached out and took the envelope he just delivered and pulled his bag around for a pen. He wrote 'Spokes' and his number across the back.
Spokes had been surprised to hear from Graham the next morning with news the ride was all set and Spokes could swing by his place and they'd ride over together to meet the others in the park on Sunday morning. When Sunday arrived he slipped on a pair of cargo shorts and a tank top for he knew the day was to be a hot one. He tossed his water and some snacks in his bag and headed out. Graham met him at the door wearing tight black cycling shorts and a jersey, the colors loud and garish, mimicking the uniforms of professional riders. Leaning against the wall was a Trek, some hybrid with a slick shiny frame and Spokes quickly noticed it didn't have a scratch on it.
They were quickly on their way to meet the others, the two of them riding casually in single file on the main roads but once they hit a neighborhood street, one with very little traffic they rode side by side. Graham asked about Spokes' bike, about his messenger job and if the all the crazy rumors were true (no...for the most part) and what he was going to do when he got tired of riding his bike. Spokes told him of taking classes at night and what he really wanted to do once he finished college and he got Graham to tell him about his life, living off his family's money, the investments he has made, the companies he owns and how he spends most of his days in his home office just overseeing everything.
They arrived at the meeting place in the park and it was as Spokes feared, the others being so out of shape, a couple of them overweight he knew he would have to hold back. Later he found out he had to actually stop and wait on them to catch up. Only Graham had the stamina to keep up. They stopped for lunch at a small neighborhood sandwich shop and afterwards the other guys said they had had enough for one day. Graham and Spokes watched them ride off back toward their cars and when they were gone Graham turned to Spokes, the look of mischief on his face.
"So you want to show me what you can really do on that bike? You've been holding back all morning so much you probably felt like you were just coasting along."
"Yeah, just no traffic dodging shit, okay?"
It was Spokes turn to smile mischievously and he got on his bike and secured his helmet as he watched Graham do the same. He checked his bike as he always did before taking off then looked at Graham.
Spokes didn't push it hard at first, instead he built up his speed, increased it slowly, till he had Graham struggling to keep up and he pushed even harder. He had cut back through the park, winding his way along the hilliest section making his way to the other side where he could pick up Garden Street and head back into the financial district, knowing it would be desolate on a Sunday and would give Graham a sense of how he rode the main roads. Without realizing it he was cutting around the slower cars they did come across, zipping around them. He looked back and found Graham was keeping up, pedaling furiously, shifting gears, looking for the one that gave him the best advantage. By the time they got back to Graham's place they were both wet with sweat. They pulled up on the sidewalk and stopped at the door.
"Thanks for the invite, it was nice to ride with someone" Spokes said.
"No thank you, the other guys you have seen are not very good and this was so much fun when you were really pushing it" Graham replied as he pulled off his helmet. "Come on up and you can get something to drink and if you want.." and Graham hesitated for the first time around Spokes, seemed unsure of what he wanted to say; "well if you'd like you can come up and shower off."
"I didn't bring a change of clothes."
"That's no problem" Graham was quick to interject; "I'm sure I've got something you can wear."
Spokes found himself in a large bathroom, with a glass enclosed shower. It was nearly as large as his apartment and it was a guest bath. He pulled his tank top over his head and laid it on a small bench along one wall. He sat and pulled off his shoes and as he stuck the last sock into each shoe the door opened and Graham walked in carrying a change of clothes.
"I think these will fit you. I was wondering if you'd stay for dinner. I love to cook and lately haven't had anyone over to cook for. Please say yes. It'll be a perfect end to our day."
Spokes looked up Graham as he replied "Okay."
Spokes stood up and began to push down his shorts and boxers together, his lean frame allowing them to drop to his ankles easily. Graham was still standing there, watching, watching as he stood back up, letting Graham see his lean body, the tattoo on his chest, way his chest and stomach were so flat and smooth all the way down to his cock which hung over his balls in a flaccid state. He saw Graham swallow hard, then turn and went out of the room. Spokes got in the shower and got it hot, the water steaming up the room as he scrubbed the grim of the day's ride from his skin. He thought of Graham, how he had watched him, how he hesitated to leave and he wondered if it was possible, possible for someone like him to hook up with someone like Graham. He showered for a long time enjoying a spray much stronger, much fuller than his own shower. How long he'd been in there he didn't know but suddenly he was aware someone was standing outside the shower. He wiped the water from his face and saw it was Graham, naked, his body still wet from his own shower. Spokes opened the door and leaned out and saw Graham looked anxious, looked like he wasn't sure about this and Spokes held out his hand.
Graham had wanted him since he had seen him on the street, sitting at the light in his limousine. The tall lean body, muscular legs, and the signs of exertion made Graham want him, desire him in such a foolish manner he had thought, and then he did it, called the courier whose name he had seen on the messenger's bag. He had felt foolish having to describe the one he wanted, the guy on a flat black frame with a mismatching bracket for his handle bars, a dark blue color for that piece. Then he arrived carrying an envelope of documents he didn't really need, just an excuse to get him to his place, and it had been him and it made Graham feel rebellious, more so than usual. It was one thing to be in his family, in his status, and gay, it was quite another to see someone below your status no matter if it was a man in lieu of a woman. But he had dated within his status, boring men, men so privileged they didn't know how to live, to enjoy life. In the last year he had dated men he found intriguing, men who excited him but sometimes they were too different or a little too carefree. Then there were the ones looking for him to take care of them, to buy them things; the only thing they seemed to like about Graham was what he could do from them. Now he found himself getting into the shower with Spokes, a bike messenger, someone who lived such a simple life compared to his own, long days making deliveries and the nights taking classes, someone who seemed to have direction. Graham stepped up close to Spokes, the slight height difference making him look up into his brown eyes and soon their lips came together, gently, as Graham hugged his body up against Spokes.
"Let's get out and dry off" Graham whispered in Spokes ear. Graham reached around him and shut the shower off, opened the door and the two of them got out. Graham grabbed the towel and dried Spokes, slowly running the towel over his body.
"Let's go to my bedroom" Graham told Spokes.
The bedroom was a large corner room with tall wide windows on two walls facing the city with the large bed position up against one wall of the windows, their sills aligning with the low flat headboard. Graham led Spokes to the bed and had him lie on his back. Graham moved in next to him and for a moment he they just looked at each other. Graham reached out and lightly, fingertips barely touching, and ran his fingers over the tattoo on Spokes' upper chest, tracing the pattern. He trailed his fingers downward and over one, then the other nipple, the soft perimeter so delicate in feel and as he circled them, rubbed them they became erect, the center hard and he lightly pinched one making Spokes breath in deeply. Neither said anything, Graham lost in his exploration of Spokes' body and Spokes watching him, looking at the intensity of his eyes and the way his fingers moved over his body, the sensation not quite tickling, but sensuous.
Graham looked at Spokes' body, the lean, almost skinny frame and couldn't believe how firm it felt under his fingers, the muscle tight, strong with the skin so smooth his fingers glided easily over it. Graham leaned over and pressed his lips to Spokes', gently, softly pressing them together as he held his hand on Spokes' stomach letting the warm contact remain. Spokes' kissed back, eased one hand to Graham's head, his fingers sliding through his hair as he was pulled tighter to Spokes, their kissing more passionate. Spokes moved along Graham's jaw line, his lips, his tongue, tracing the contours, feeling the stubble of his beard. He continued to Graham's neck, nipping at the skin, tongue snaking out to taste the flesh, as he continued to his ear, tugging the lobe with his teeth, then tonguing it. Graham felt the warm wet manipulation around his ear and on his neck and he pushed his hand down, over the smooth firm abdomen, downward till his fingers felt the sparse hair over his cock, and he ran his fingers through it, felt it tickle his fingertips as his hand kept bumping into Spokes' cock, its shaft thickening, getting erect and as it did it shifted around, moved to lie over his abdomen and Graham finally touched it, ran his fingers along the shaft and over the head, feeling the soft spongy texture, and Spokes pushed up, his body reacting to the touch. Graham leaned over and brought his mouth down to the hard shaft, let his lips slide along its length till he felt the flared head and he kissed it, snaked out his tongue and ran it over the head, circled it, licking the head till it was wet. Spokes lay back, his eyes closed, enjoying the warm wet breath, the touch of Graham's lips and tongue and his cock got harder.
Graham held his cock up, slid his hand down the shaft and back up, slowly, just a few times, stroking it up, and he moved his mouth over it, brought his lips over the head and slowly sank his mouth downward. Spokes grabbed handfuls of sheet in each hand as he felt Graham sink down on his cock, felt the warm wet mouth as his hands held his hips firmly in place. Graham worked his mouth up and down, letting the hard shaft with its smooth skin stretched tight revealing the form of Spokes cock, the vein that ran up the side, its pattern like an ancient river. Graham loved the feel of a man's cock in his mouth, the way it filled his mouth, and Spokes cock fit snuggly in his mouth, and it felt good. He worked his mouth over the shaft over and over and over till he could tell Spokes was really wound up and he pulled off, holding it by the base and watched it bob in his hand, the head all flared out and a deep red. He moved down and ran his tongue over Spokes balls, felt them shift around in their sac as his tongue moved over it. He moved down below them, tongued the skin below and Spokes spread his legs, raised his knees up angling his ass up for Graham and Graham didn't hesitate, moved on down dragging his tongue over the ridged skin till he touched Spokes' opening, ran his tongue over it, felt its tightness, the wrinkled skin, waiting to be stretched, to be pried open.
Spokes felt the way Graham ran his tongue over his skin, probed him, pushed against his tightness and he lay back, letting Graham hold his legs up, his eyes closed. Graham worked his tongue till he loosened up, his hole opened and Graham could penetrate the edge of his hole with his tongue, wetting him, warming him, making him want more. When Graham shifted back and moved over him, up on his hands and knees, Spokes felt Graham's cock brush over his own, he felt Graham's warm breath on his neck then his lips, warmth against his skin as Graham eased down on top of him and Spokes wrapped his legs around his waist. He felt Graham shift against him, felt him move down a little, his cock slide down below his balls, the head trailing along his ass till it rubbed over his wet hole, and Graham pressed against Spokes, rocked his hips forward feeling the tight opening resist until Spokes rocked forward, pushed up enough for Graham's cock to breach his hole, to stretch him open, and as Graham rocked his hips slowly forward he sank more and more of his cock into Spokes. The tight ring of the opening milked his cock as he pushed it all the way into Spokes, sank it into his depths till he could feel the warm velvety insides wrapped around his shaft. Spokes hugged him tightly, his moans and grunts soft and muffled but he heard each one as he felt each exhalation of warm breath on his neck and he began to fuck, began to rock his hips back and forth, work his cock through Spokes, work his cock till Spokes' hole loosened up and took him easily and Graham could feel Spokes push up against him as he felt his hands rubbing over his back, firmly, urgently.
Neither said anything as Graham built up his pace, as he began to thrust his cock harder, to hit that rhythm that vibrated through Spokes, that hit his insides in ways that made him grunt louder, hug Graham tighter, push up harder with his hips. Graham slowed, wanting to prolong their fuck and Spokes suddenly held him tight and rolled him over on his back and he sat up on him, cock still buried in his ass. Spokes held his own cock, it fully erect, the head wet and slick, as he raised up, pulled his ass up revealing more and more of Graham's cock pulling back through his opening; then he came back down. Spokes did it again, and again and again, working his hole up and down Graham's cock, his ass slamming down, rocking the bed. Graham ran his hands up and down Spokes thighs, let him feel his touch as he laid there feeling his cock being worked through Spokes' hole, up and down Spokes worked his body. Graham admired the lean smooth body, the way it moved on top of him, the flat tautness of his torso, the way his hard cock bounced up and down, the shine of his smooth skin as his exertions heated him up. The stimulation was too much, the way he had entered him earlier, the breach through the tightness and now this, the fast pace Spokes maintained, riding his cock, slamming down on him, and Graham watched him, let his mind enjoy this fantasy become real and he pushed up as Spokes came down, he worked his hips as much as he could, feeling his cock get achingly hard and he squeezed Spokes thighs, and as Spokes slammed down again he shoved up harder than before, felt as if he was trying to push his whole body into Spokes and he came. He felt his cock explode deep in Spokes, throbbing through each ejaculation, shooting each wad into him till his cock slid easily through his hole it now lubricated with his cum. Spokes slowed down, eased up and down on Graham, working his body up and down a few more times as he milked the last of his load.
Spokes finally stopped, his hard cock lying down on Graham's stomach, the wet head leaving a spattered trail on his skin. Spokes eased up and shifted to the side, neither saying a word as they seemed to know what the other wanted, and Graham rolled over on his stomach. He felt Spokes move between his legs, push them apart further as he moved up in place, hovering over him. Spokes worked his cock between Graham's cheeks, pushed down along the cleft till he was rubbing the wet slick head over his hole, teasing it, pushing against its tightness making Graham want it, feel the need to be penetrated and he pushed up with his ass.
Spokes felt Graham's need, his want and he bore down on him, breached his hole and sank his cock into him. Easing downward Spokes worked his cock into Graham till he was resting against his ass. He eased down on Graham's back, bear hugged him and buried his nose into the back of Graham's head, smelling his scent through his hair, feeling it tickle his nose as he brought his lips in contact along Graham's neck. He worked his hips, pulling upward then pushing back down, he kissed Graham's neck, along the edge of his hair around his ear, tonguing it, nipping the earlobe with his teeth. He felt the warmth of Graham's body, strong, muscular, as he tightened his grip on him and worked his body on top, pumping his cock back and forth through Graham's hole.
Graham felt the tall lean body on top, its movements as Spokes worked his cock into him, pumping it in his hole, fucking him slowly. He felt the warmth of Spokes' skin, the smooth slickness of it as it slid over him. He lost track of time, lost in the sensation of the fuck, didn't know how long Spokes had been thrusting his cock into him, amazed at Spokes' stamina, the strength of his lean body, but he felt the heat of it as he began to sweat as it seemed everywhere Spokes was touching him was hot. His arms around his chest, his lips on his neck, his legs pushed against his own, pushing them out and his cock, hard and wet, thrusting through his hole.
Graham pushed up, shifted beneath Spokes and Spokes knew what he wanted once again, and he rose up, pulling his cock free and eased over to the side of Graham, allowing him to turn over, get on his back and Spokes quickly got between his legs, pushed them up and over, spread them out, turning Graham's ass up spreading it open, his hole ready, wanting, needing to be fucked. Spokes' cock was so hard he merely shifted forward, let the head drop down to Graham's hole and he shoved forward sinking it all the way into him. Graham grunted as Spokes came down on his ass, their bodies locked together. Spokes leaned over Graham with his legs locked on his shoulders as he folded him over and began to fuck, more forcibly this time, his pace a little faster. Graham had never felt so submissive to someone before, so relaxed to their taking him, pumping his hole, fucking him.
Spokes still felt the memory of Graham's fuck and now his cock felt the tightness of Graham's hole, and he pushed and pulled it through the tight ring, letting it milk his cock as he built up his pace. Faster and faster he worked his hips and Graham began to grunt and moan at his thrusts down into his depths, the way Spokes bottomed out into him, shoved his cock as far as he could into his hole, hips slapping against his ass. Graham wondered how he could keep up such a pace, the stamina of such a lean body, but he knew Spokes had the strength to keep it up, to pound his hole, to fuck him long and hard. When Spokes rose up some, shifted positions to take on a new attack, Graham let his legs fall down to Spokes's waist where he wrapped them around him, his heels digging into him urging him on, feeling the movement of his body, the way he rocked his hips. Graham began to feel droplets and reached up to run his hand over Spokes' chest feeling the hot slick skin, the sweat running down it. He looked up at Spokes, saw his face all tensed up, his eyes closed tight and the sweat pouring from his hair, rivulets running down and dripping off his chin. He wondered if Spokes could keep this pace up and was soon aware of Spokes shifting over him, of raising up a little higher over him and his pace getting faster, his cock piston in and out of his hole at a furious pace. Spokes breathing became labored, his body tensed up tight, the lean body quivering at the strain of his fucking. It made Graham feel the heat, his own body hot, skin glistening with a sweaty sheen and he felt Spokes' thrusting become short jerky movements. Spokes suddenly slammed down into Graham and held still for a moment, his body pressed down on Graham.
"Fuck, I'm coming" he said, the first anything had been said since they started. Spokes pumped his hips in hard short jabs, pushing his ejaculating cock deep into Graham, filling his hole with his cum. When he was finally spent, the exhaustion of his exertions finally hitting him, Spokes feel over to the side breathing hard. They lay still for a long time, both just lying there waiting for their bodies to return to normal. Graham was watching Spokes when he finally opened his eyes and smiled.
"Thanks" Spokes said in a low whisper and he laid his arm over Graham's chest, leaned in and kissed him in a tender soft manner. When he pulled back he lay looking at Graham, moving his hand over and running his fingers over the wet skin.
"I guess I should be going. I have to work in the morning."
"Can't you stay? I'll get you up in time to get to work, just say what time to set the alarm."
Spokes leaned up and looked at Graham in a curious fashion. "You sure?"
"Please don't go."
Spokes nodded and lay back down beside Graham. Soon both were asleep. Graham woke sometime in the middle of the night, lights from the city filtering in through the large windows and he stared at the sleeping form next to him, wondering if this was a mistake, but then not caring. He had dated guys in the past similar to Spokes, guys he had tried to change or some who turned out wanting things over companionship, so this time he vowed he wouldn't try to change Spokes and he'd see how things went. After all it was the rough edges that attracted him in the first place.