Actions of Man on Covert Mission

To the Top with Mitya

If Marco had been given truth serum and interrogated about his actions, no clarity would be given. Some things are hidden in the impenetrable darkness of the universe. An action without a preceding chain of scrutable causes. In one sense, Marco’s actions did not make sense. In another sense, they were the necessary actions the great man had to take in this universe into which he had been born

The moment Marco had observed Mitya swallow the poison and fall to the floor in agony, Marco had stood up, kicked off his trousers that already were halfway down, and with full force, he had thrusted himself at the fire damaged wall, which broke open with a great crash. 

Naked from the waist down, in a primal state of nudity, strength, and unvarnished aggression, his entrance surprised the soldiers inside. They froze at the sight. Marco swung his fists with great force and precision, and after a few haymakers, five soldiers quickly ended up on the ground unconscious. One soldier lifted his machine gun and aimed it. Marco approached, mouth frothed in animal anger, and threw another soldier at the gunman. The bullets hit the wooden walls and splinters flew in all directions before the two soldiers that collided crashed to the ground, dazed and disoriented. The last soldier not knocked to the floor saw Marco and the big swinging dick and screamed in fear at the sight of such superior force, and ran off.

The anemic man from the secret police let out one scared fart. “But, what? You died… the cargo ship” he stammered. Marco directed his fist at his face and knocked him cold. That guy would look even uglier in photos from now on.

Marco lifted the unconscious Mitya off the ground and put him on the shoulders. Escape was top priority. Marco exited through the impromptu backdoor he had opened with his body. He grabbed his trousers and shoulder bag, and with the more or less naked Mitya on the shoulders, Marco ran uphill.

And he ran. His missions in the Alps, his training in the Rockies, his pilgrimage in the Pyrenees, and his explorations in the Himalayas, all aided his current efforts. Marco put a great deal of distance between himself and the barn, despite the added burden of the unconscious body on the shoulders, despite the ache in heel, belly and body. But there was a mission… or was there? Maybe a higher mission.

The terrain was rugged and soon enough there were no signs of human activity. It was still very dark, the morning several hours away. So Marco stopped, his heart raced, sweat was all over his body. He placed Mitya on a soft bed of moss under a tree. Marco ripped off Mitya’s shirt, and placed his ear on the unconscious man’s chest. There was a faint heartbeat. The lungs pumped, though shallowly. The spirit present, though veiled in darkness. Marco pushed hard at the stomach. He tried to empty it. Though Mitya threw up some of the poison, his condition was dire. Death was not far away.

Marco sat up and looked at the hurt man below him. Eyes closed, sadness in the face, and a half dozen splinters had pierced the magnificent body and blood trickled out from the wounds. Death was not right for this man, not here, not this way.

Desperate for anything to aid in the fight against the poison, Marco removed the leaf from his necklace. Gany had said this was supposed to be eaten when the body was unbalanced. That island had been weird and magical, so for now, a leaf from its shores may be the best bet. Marco chewed a bit on the leaf to soften it, then placed it inside Mitya’s mouth. The hurt man reflexively swallowed. 

Water, find fresh water… and more distance. Marco hoisted the naked Mitya back up on the shoulders and he resumed his Herculean task of running uphill, further south, away from Soviet society and its many watchmen.

Maybe an hour later, maybe two, and Marco reached a brook of fresh mountain water. More exhausted and sweaty than before, he stopped, and carefully placed Mitya on the ground. Though still far from good, Mitya at least was able to swallow the water Marco gave him and his heartbeat sounded healthier. The poison was slowly neutralized.

The air was cold. Marco realized when he felt Mitya’s skin, that the young man was on the verge of hypothermia. Marco considered the choice he faced. Run further from the Soviet secret police, and risk to be sucked into the whirlpool of frozen death and bodily exhaustion. Stay here to warm up and rest, and risk to be devoured alive by the vengeful many-headed monster of the police state. 

Trust my powers, fight well, I can do battle if needed, we stay here, Marco concluded and chose the lesser of two dangers. 

He removed his wet and sweaty clothes. Then he grabbed hold of Mitya and spooned him, wrapped his arms around the other man’s body. Marco’s warmth was conducted into Mitya through their touch. Mitya wriggled his butt slightly, pressed himself closer to Marco’s groin. It was a sign of spiritual health that the bottom’s primary reflexes were fully functional.

The mist cleared, purpose and natural beauty revealed as the sun rose. For a number of hours, Marco and Mitya were pressed together, one man returning life to the other. The sounds, smells and sights of sunny days returned. Marco felt at ease, confident and determined.

Mitya grunted and woke up, the sun on his face, torso and dick. Felt on his back and butt were Marco’s hard and warm muscles.

“Steady, steady. Do not rush it”, Marco cautioned the wounded man. “Poison and splinters have hurt you. You live for now, but we are hunted.”

Mitya turned his head and looked at Marco. He was confused, his most recent memories were fuzzy and jumbled. For the first time their eyes met. “I feel strange, is this real?” Mitya asked.

“We are in the mountains south of Kutaisi. I fought the soldiers who attacked you and your six protégé in the barn. But we must continue our escape. Can you move?”

Mitya moved his limbs carefully. He clearly felt a great deal of pain. He was not ready to run, the poison had hurt him from the inside, the splinters from the outside.

“You carried me, or did we fly?” Mitya asked oddly. He moved further away from Marco so he could inspect the flesh of his saviour. He saw the muscles, power, warmth and the thick dick with a premium cock ring wrapped around it. He could not yet reason clearly and was unsure how to add the pieces together. Yet, he felt reassured.

“I think I know an ancient path, used by sheep herders for millennia, that can take us southeast through these mountains. But we need to move fast. You better sit on my shoulders, and from there you can read the map… you do read Ancient Greek?” Marco had realized while he spooned Mitya that the landmarks were a perfect match with one of the herding paths he had read about in the old notebook on his voyage to Georgia.

“Ancient Greek, yes. And English. Your Russian is not bad, but…” answered Mitya. They looked at each other in silence. Mitya moved his body a bit such that his thighs ‘happened’ to brush up against Marco’s dick, which had been at least semi-erect for the last ten hours. I should fuck some heat into him, do us both good, Marco thought for a brief moment, but restrained himself

“Well then, our task for the day is set… let the night remain unwritten for now“ said Marco in English. He stood up, put his trousers on, took the notebook out from the bag and gave it to Mitya. Then he bent down and lifted Mitya up on the shoulders. Marco’s head was between the Mitya’s legs, with the handsome package of dick and balls pressed against the back of the neck, and two delicious muscular thighs wrapped around Marco’s head.

“Now tell me where to push my body forward” said Marco. “Saint Sebastian…” Mitya whispered as he opened the notebook at the holy card. He then oriented himself and interpreted the map. The two men began their trekking through the woods on ancient hidden herding paths.

It was a tough journey. They stayed off the main roads and avoided people. They collected apples and cherries from trees they passed by. But thanks to the herding paths that Mitya pointed out and Marco walked on, they made good progress southeast. 

They did not say much, moved mostly in careful and thoughtful silence. At one point Mitya inquired about his six men from the barn. Marco described how he had fought with the soldiers before they could pursue the naked men, so apart from one soldier who had screamed in primal fear at the sight of Marco’s nudity, nobody ran after the six men.

“So you were at the barn, watching, before the soldiers arrived” Mitya concluded, and left the rest unsaid. 

The sun was low. The day would come to its end soon. The map indicated that the herding path a bit further on passed through a few populated areas. So they decided to stop and rest, and perhaps later, under the cover of darkness, they could continue in the direction of the southern border.

They found a big tree near a small river, and there, after hours of physical effort by Marco, he helped the naked man down from his shoulders. Mitya had recovered remarkably well during the walk. He could walk on his own, though slowly, and he was fully conscious. 

The two men walked to the river to wash their bodies. The day had been sweaty. Mitya, already nude jumped in. Marco, removed his clothes, and was soon in the water as well. 

Mitya’s skin was an amazing creation. The water touched it, then rolled off along an unpredictable path between and around the cavities and protrusions, small and large, of the body. Moist trails were created — very lickable ones. The buttocks especially seemed firmer and fresher than ever as they reacted to the cold and reinvigorating touch by the river. It looked bizarre, however small golden particles in the river attached to his blond hair and made Mitya, literally speaking, a golden treasure of the land.

As predicable as Helios’ route with his chariot in the sky, Marco’s penis reached maximum erection. Physical exhaustion, weeks, if not months, since feeling the tight grip, and here, within easy reach, the most delicious, dangerous, deadly, apex power bottom boy who practically begged to be commanded. Marco cleaned his sore muscles, nothing more, and returned to the tree, but it had required considerable self-discipline.

“So… I have three questions for you, I think I deserve answers” Mitya said seriously, his gaze fixed on Marco, when they had returned from the river with renewed confidence and vigour. “You can answer them in any order you think is the most appropriate. But I require answers. First, what is your mission? A man of your type and strength in distant lands always has a mission, always in action with purpose. Second, who sent you? A man of your type and grace do things not simply for yourself, but for a common good, a shared purpose. Third, what can I do to thank you for your heroic rescue? A man of your type and girth must be nurtured, loved and dutifully drained.”

Like a lion, Marco pounced and pressed Mitya to the ground. He made sure the man below felt his strength and weight, made it clear whose body was in command. Marco kissed those pretty and teasing lips. He pressed his tongue inside. His hard dick rested on Mitya’s body. 

With the terms of engagement established, so to speak, Marco moved downwards. The tongue flexed and tickled, and hands groped, he gave those pink and perky nipples an intense sucking. Marco almost managed to get the entire pectoral muscle inside his mouth. They were firm and alive, and Mitya responded with a moan, while he tried to twist free from the stimulation. No way Marco would let him go. The amazing sensation of overpowering the man below was primal to Marco, it sat within the nerves of the spinal cord, like any base reflex.

Down along the abdominal muscles, so firm and sharp, down to the belly button. Mitya’s belly button could only be described as ‘evocative’. It was almost non-existent — narrow and tight. Some sculptor of the ancient world must have developed a theory about the belly button and its proper place and relation to the rest of the male body. Whatever the theory, Mitya’s belly button would stand in an apex relation to butt-fuckability, that Marco felt certain of.

At this point Marco turned around, his face above Mitya’s crotch, his erection above Mitya’s face. The unmistakable sound of a heavy dick that slapped against cheeks rang out. It was shortly followed by Mitya’s determined, almost aggressive, attempts to lock his lips around it. His hands and arms were still pressed to the ground by Marco. He sucked in air, extended his tongue, pushed his nose upwards, all meant to stop the pendulum motion. Mitya was an expert at guiding hard dick to himself. So Marco’s teasing came to an end rather quickly, accentuated by a gulps and slurps.

This was expert oral stimulation. Mitya knew dick, plain and simple. He used lips, tongue, a bit of teeth, and neck motion to press, stroke and pull on all the right spots. Marco had to groan. For added challenge, he pressed himself further down onto Mitya, who received the additional inches of man with sounds of slurps and muffled joy.

Marco bent his head down onto Mitya’s dick. It was hard and with the right amount of asymmetry. Like all good artwork, aesthetic pleasure was found in contrasts and unruly elements that defied blunt and trivial order. Soon though, Marco’s preferences and urges made themselves known as he redirected his mouth to the butt. Because Mitya was on his back, access was limited. But as Marco pressed the tongue below the balls and sucked on that sensitive spot, the bottom’s reflexes were triggered. 

Marco got up quick on his knees. The unmistakable sound of a hard dick that slipped out of a greedy sucking grip rang out. Before Mitya had any chance to decide what position to take, Marco flipped Mitya over, face down, ass up. A perfectly arched ass, those cresting buttocks illuminated in the warm rosy light of a setting sun, and as the muscles parted they revealed all that beautiful stuff.

In a moment of awe, Marco reached in between the legs of Mitya and held the dick and balls pointed backwards. There it was, the sexual hexagram that awoke powerful spirits in strong men. The two firm, squeezable buttocks, the one sensitive point in between where the promise of a tight loving grip sat, below that the two balls, which created and pumped manly juices into the world, and finally the hard penis in between, the means and motivator of so much discovery. At least these were the conclusion Marco had found written in that old notebook, which he now understood to be truth.

Things could not wait any longer, the forces of nature moved the men. The cock ring pressed and empowered Marco, now that it finally was going to happen. He aimed the head of his dick against Mitya’s butt, moved, slapped and rubbed from side to side, and gave the handsome man below a few seconds to relax. Mitya might have looked like a passive hole to fuck to the ordinary observer, but Marco had known many bottoms by now and he recognized the active and strong command Mitya possessed, body and spirit. 

With his face against the grass, Mitya twisted his head slightly to the side and back to look at Marco. He licked his lips followed by a teasing smile.

That was it. Marco pushed inside. He had to. The grip was immediate, precise and mercilessly tight. Marco let a few guttural sounds escape his mouth as he felt his body tense up and a warm and cold shiver ran up his spine. He pressed forward and deeper. This was exactly what he needed. He leaned forward and grabbed Mitya around the waist and chest, pressed the precious man hard, while inching even deeper inside. 

The thrusting began. Marco quickly found the precise rhythm, which resonated with the spirit. Mitya’s eyes rolled up for a moment as he received the big man from above. 

Marco soon flipped them over on their side. They both faced the warm setting sun, while they both thrusted their hips back and forth. Marco licked and nibbled at the neck of Mitya, and with hands he tickled the firm torso and hard nipples. If only I could tickle his squirming feet as well, Marco thought, as Mitya wiggled and laughed from the stimulation. This was for his own good, Marco reasoned, and he locked his grip even firmer around Mitya’s body and increased the intensity of the bodily stimulations. This is a whole body fuck, a full spirit probing, this is true merger. 

Time passed as Marco and Mitya connected in this position. Bodily energies were consumed. Despite Marco’s many strong attributes, he had limits. Uphill runs, old wounds and several days of little sleep meant that as the apex bottom was mounted, Marco began to fatigue. Mitya saw his opportunity and marshalled his reserves and wiggled and squeezed even more. He grabbed one of Marco’s fingers that twisted the nipple, and he bit into it. Mitya was quick and flung himself up on Marco who sat up. Face to face, Mitya in Marco’s lap, the power bottom squeezed the chest of Marco, admired its shape, eyes met, and then Mitya raised his body, confidently grabbed Marco’s dick, aimed it, and then sat down on it. 

The grip, such fantastic grip, and what command he has of it, there is even a slight quiver to it, vibrating at some amazing frequency, Marco thought. Mitya now set the pace. Fast, deep, but not so much that Marco or Mitya would shoot. This whole body fuck took time, and demanded patience and strength.

And time it took. The sexual gymnastics, the ritual, continued in a variety of positions at a range of intensities and exertions. The sun was just about to go below the horizon when the two men no longer could contain themselves. 

It was the most powerful orgasm since that distant time and place in which he had mounted sweet Billy. Mitya was perfection, the very definition of an apex bottom, and now he has been conquered by my power, Marco thought as his body finally began to relax after the orgasm. Mitya had loudly hollered as he shot his load, as he had pressed his thighs strongly against Marco’s weight from above.

They said nothing. They embraced, their beating hearts synchronized. A kiss, then they fell asleep close together.