Title: "The Night of Rapine and Revelations" 1/1
Artemus Gordon sat on the edge of his bed, brooding. It had been a long day -- the culmination of a difficult assignment.
Dr. Arcularis -- an evil man if ever Gordon had known one -- was now safely imprisoned; the other people Arcularis had conditioned were under treatment and observation at the Samaritan, a local hospital. This hospital was the very same hospital Gordon had taken personal pleasure in entering with local lawmen to clear of Arcularis' accomplices.
The city's constable had wanted West and Gordon to go to the hospital as well, but both men had resisted. West had assured the officer both he and Gordon were fine -- and after taking care of a myriad of other details the two men had finally returned to their home on the train for a late dinner.
Though normally Gordon greatly enjoyed preparing meals for West and himself, tonight he had barely managed to go through the motions. He felt bothered, but not necessarily because of their recent work. He had tried to smile and be his usual jovial self during dinner, but it had been a push -- even for him. Most of the time he enjoyed an acting challenge -- forcing himself to portray an outward appearance which belied what he was feeling -- but tonight he had felt tired...
No, actually he hadn't been tired at all. Tonight he had been... preoccupied. But he couldn't quite put his finger on why.
Thinking back on the assignment just completed Gordon found it frustrating not to be able better to recall his own conditioning while under the control of Arcularis -- though bits and pieces were coming back to him. His memory had been unpleasantly jogged earlier in the day when at his own insistence his partner West had verbally de-briefed while Gordon took notes for their joint paperwork to the Secret Service and President Grant.
West had made no secret of his reluctance to go into the details of his own conditioning at the hands of Dr. Arcularis. Gordon suspected this was partly due to his unwillingness to unnecessarily remind Gordon of his own ordeal. But Gordon knew West well enough to realize he had also wanted to spare Gordon the details of what Arcularis had put West through.
From the little his partner did reveal it was clear Arcularis had spared no torture to make certain of James West...
Though Gordon still found much of his own experience a blur; he had found it extremely easy to picture West's suffering. Gordon couldn't help but damn Arcularis for the pain he had given Jim.
Still, while such thoughts had given him a decided gut ache of sympathy, they had also aroused another feeling -- a feeling that in all honestly could only be described as passion.
Gordon pondered this. It certainly wasn't the first time he'd reacted with arousal either when seeing West in pain or imagining it. Gordon was honest with himself about his passions and tastes and knew himself as something of a sadist. He further knew himself for what was described in Europe as a libertine -- and a taste for the exotic was not unusual for these sexual 'gourmets.'
More than this, he also recognized James West's masochistic tendencies -- even if West himself did not.
Gordon believed without question that West would be shocked to even suspect that one of Gordon's reactions to West's physical endangerment and harm was arousal! Surely West would believe Gordon only wanted to see him removed from any hint of pain. Ater all, what could be more normal for him to believe?
How many times Gordon wondered had he raced to West's rescue -- to find West restrained by some madman, tied in yet another alluring pose, with his muscular chest bared? Or better yet, to find West's muscular ass (a very round and protuberant ass) exposed winningly to view. How (Gordon asked himself) could any man be expected to resist this temptation West provided again and again?
Gordon sighed and removed his jacket, placing it carefully over the wooden valet. He slipped out of his ornate vest and sat down heavily, sighing more deeply. What was he going to do about his obsession with James West?
Glancing out the window at the night sky, Gordon realized he had been more than a little relieved when West had encouraged the woman Indra to join the others under medical supervision. My God, but he was more than a little fed up with watching West make love to yet another woman! It seemed as if he was constantly present to see West begin some elaborate foreplay, as if Gordon himself wasn't even in the room. And on more than one occasion, West had actually continued beyond a session of kissing and groping -- and Gordon had witnessed West penetrating a woman -- riding her to satisfaction.
He was never exactly certain how much genuine 'satisfaction' West experienced with these women. West remained a gentleman -- well into his lovemaking. Gordon found himself wondering if West had ever actually seen a woman completely unclothed with as much as one single candle lit to light the sight. More likely West politely removed himself from the room while the lovely creature unclothed and slipped under the covers -- or so dimmed the lighting in a room that nothing could really be seen at all!
Did West remove all of his own clothing where his lovemaking partner could really see his fine, masculine form? Or did he wait until all light had been extinguished? Or perhaps he didn't undress completely! Who knew? Gordon realized he'd watched West driving into more than one woman, his buttocks working -- usually still packed inside his tight slacks. As a rule the woman in question seemed delirious with pleasure, but had West actually finished his own needs? Had his passion been consummated? Gordon was fond of believing that West didn't fulfill himself during these sessions. (And he often lay awake at night wondering if West had deliberately 'arranged' for him to be West's audience -- perhaps in the effort to find greater satisfaction.) Would it really be like West to show off for his benefit? Well -- after all -- the man did have quite an ego...
Gratefully there was no woman on the train tonight. Additionally, West had been under stress for some days, which often seemed to drive him toward desire. West would be sorry he was without a suitable outlet tonight, whether he was tired or not. (And perhaps if West were still in pain he would be all the more sorry. 'Ah, yes, James,' he thought 'you are more of a masochist than you would ever admit.')
Gordon rose and continued to disrobe. He stood glancing at his own reflection in the mirror without really focusing; suddenly he caught sight of himself and realized his face seemed very blank. He stared at his image, making his features even more immobile. Blank face. Conditioning. Ah, it was an opportunity he simply couldn't pass up...
Gordon pulled on his dressing gown and walked with a slight stiffness to the door of his cabin, continuing to keep his eyes unfocused. Just before leaving his cabin Gordon swept up a pair of experimental handcuffs he'd been working on, slipping them into his pocket.
He moved mechanically and quietly to James West's room and pulled open the cabin door. Inside he could see West -- dressed only in his slacks -- sitting on his bed and reading over papers held in one hand. Perfect. Gordon moved without making a sound, counting on catching West off guard...
West didn't catch sight of him until Gordon was directly in front of him. West glanced up, his expression showing surprise. Even with his eyes held 'blank' Gordon could see that West was analyzing the situation. 'He might be thinking I'm sleepwalking,' Gordon thought, recalling a lecture they'd both attended in Boston a few months back. A doctor had told attendees that stress could be a possible cause of sleepwalking. Certainly West would realize how much stress he'd been under during the past week.
West dropped his papers gently to the floor and glancing carefully at Gordon's hands, hanging loosely at his sides. Both were empty. Gordon knew his stance wouldn't appear threatening -- that it was likely that in spite of recent events West would feel he was in no danger.
Gordon swayed slightly, letting his loosely wrapped dressing gown fall open to reveal his naked body. This would further reassure West. Gordon wondered if his partner was thinking back to the lecture and contemplating the best way to deal with a sleepwalker. It was difficult to keep his face relaxed as he smiled inwardly...
Gordon waited. He wanted to make his move at just the right moment. James was both fast and a good fighter -- he didn't want to risk losing this chance. Gordon was counting on West being concerned for him -- and unsuspecting. But it didn't pay to underestimate Jim! Gordon carefully slipped a hand into his pocket and around the concealed cuffs.
West sighed and reached a careful hand toward Gordon's shoulder. Quickly, Gordon threw himself at West, knocking the breath from the smaller man and throwing him back on top of the turned down bed. Gordon shifted his body on top of West, working to pin the slighter man beneath him. His skillful fingers maneuvered with the special cuffs he himself had recently created -- as designed both sides sprang instantly open. West was squirming beneath him; Gordon knew he would lose his advantage very soon if he didn't act right away.
Gordon reached up and snapped one of the cuffs sharply down over West's right wrist. Again, just as he had designed them, the cuff closed quickly and automatically with an audible click, locking firmly. West struggled harder, shifting his body and pushing with his free left arm. Gordon rolled his body and grabbed West's free arm roughly while pressing the second cuff roughly against West's wrist.
The cuff snapped shut tightly; West was caught, cursing under his breath.
Gordon had to invisibly shake himself to keep from laughing with delight. Restraining West to this point had been far easier than he'd expected!
"Artemus! Artemus, it's me, James," West was saying in a loud voice, obviously trying to break the 'spell' he assumed Gordon was under. As Gordon had hoped, West had determined that Gordon was still under the effect of his recent conditioning.
"Fight it, Artemus. You can do it." West was still struggling, and Gordon could feel that he was trying to use his muscular legs to throw Gordon off. Gordon realized West was barefoot. This was probably another point in his favor. Though West still had the advantage of his strong body and amazing training, his arms were restrained and he didn't have the advantage of his special boots. The rest of his unique weapons were lying around the room, well out of reach.
Gordon took note as West suddenly glanced up at his gun, which hung inside West's gun belt slung over the end of the bedpost. Gordon reached out a swift hand and shoved against it, dislodging the gun. It fell with a loud thump, but Gordon was unable to see where it had ended up. West made a noise of disgust.
Gordon reached up again and pulled the gun belt free with one hand. Then he worked the latch and pulled the belt open, looping it between West's bound arms. Determined, he reached out his hand and slapped West sharply across the face. West fell back for a moment, stunned. Slapping had been the perfect choice -- it was not what West had expected at all. Satisfied he had finally distracted West, Gordon yanked the gun belt up and secured it between the brass bars of the headboard.
Now he only needed some way to further subdue West. How should he do it? Breathing heavily, Gordon slid away from West and stood up. He moved to the wall and turned down the lights. The sudden darkness seemed to further stun West. Gordon stared at him through the gloom.
Gordon could see that West was trying to devise a plan. But the expression on his partner's face made it clear that he was having a difficult time. Even though he was generally able to keep his wits about him, West's recent work had been a strain. Gordon knew that West was mentally fatigued -- and still physically below par...
More than this, West would have been certain earlier in the day that Artemus was fine. He might even have decided that Gordon's conditioning and barely taken in the first place -- that it had been useless once Gordon had come around again in Arcularis' hideout. The current situation would be forcing West to reconsider. Did he now believe his partner been conditioned to attack him once they returned back to the train? If so, was he wondering what had triggered this current attack? Gordon knew that West relied heavily on his partner -- especially in the days right after a difficult assignment. (Usually he could count on Gordon being there to pamper him in every possible way...)
Gordon could imagine West's dilemma; West despised losing control and was always fighting to regain it -- even in the most final and desperate of situations.
Gordon slipped out of his dressing gown. He stood continuing to stare down at West until his eyes grew accustomed to the darkened cabin. Deciding, he reached down with both hands and firmly grasped the waistband of West's pants. Tugging hard he heard the material rip and felt the slacks move down West's hips and buttocks. Gordon continued to tug until the slacks were around West's ankles. Then he stopped. Perhaps the pants would act as another restraint...
"Artemus?" West was saying. "Concentrate. Do you hear what I'm saying?"
Gordon leaned over and slapped West's face again, feeling his palm sting from the blow. Suddenly he longed to feel the flesh of West's buttocks under his punishing hand. If only he could turn West over right now and give him a good, hard spanking!
He reached down with both hands and brutally caressed West's exposed chest, his fingers rubbing roughly against one of West's nipples, pinching and twisting; West arched and squirmed under his ministrations. Gordon was not surprised to see West's partial erection. It confirmed his suspicions -- West was most assuredly masochistic. Further, West was obviously aroused by danger. The latter was no more of a surprise to Gordon than the former had been...
Tracing down West's body with his fingertips, Gordon quickly grasped West's erection in one hand. West moaned and his body went stiff -- Gordon almost moaned himself. How he had longed to feel this wonderful piece of flesh in his hands! (His obsession with West had always included many heart-pounding fantasies...)
Gordon pumped the organ feeling it grow hotter and fuller in his hand. Good.
Once again falling over West he reached up and unfastened the restraining gun belt. Then he grasped West's hips with both hands and rolled his partner over on his face. He considered fastening the gun belt again, but decided it was unnecessary -- if West wanted to continue to fight, let him. Gordon was certain he could handle his partner just fine from here on out. He reached and yanked West's slacks down over his ankles and feet, tossing them aside. He didn't want anything getting in the way now.
West was sprawled on his stomach. Gordon noted that West himself had spread his legs. West's arms were thrown above his head and remained motionless. It was clear that West had capitulated -- whether or not he knew it. Gordon felt a wild wave of love and desire wash over him making his hands tremble. This was his beloved James!
Gordon reached a hand between West's parted legs and pressed a finger against the hot skin of West's anus, prodding. Feeling the rigidly puckered hole tighten, he pressed harder. Though he didn't want to actually physically rape West he realized he was willing to do it; he would violate his partner if it proved necessary. He continued to press hard with his middle finger, using his free hand to gently stroke West's back and buttocks. Gordon swung his hand high and then very deliberately slapped the rounded mound of West's ass, watching the flesh quiver. He wished the room were not so dark so he could better admire West's body -- and each reaction to this treatment. Perhaps with luck there might be another time. Perhaps West wouldn't be angry or upset. West might even forgive him if he could be made to understand why Gordon had done this -- what had driven him to these violent actions.
West moaned again and thrust his ass upward. His movement was an entirely physical reaction -- one that further inflamed Gordon's passion. 'He can't fight his true nature,' Gordon thought. 'James wants to think of himself as completely masculine and controlling, but he can't fight his nature. His nature is to be taken by another man -- and I am that man.'
Gordon gave a quick push and penetrated West with his finger, digging in and working as deeply as he could manage. He was surprised that though West was dry inside he pressed back and moved his body, working on the invading finger. Gordon continued to wiggle his finger as his own erection bobbed painfully upward. He felt bigger than he'd ever felt before -- he couldn't help worrying at the thought of West taking his bloated organ inside his tight, dry rectum.
Gordon reached his free hand over the head of his own penis, and lightly squeezed -- he wanted to bring forth liquid and create a natural lubrication. An unwilling groan escaped his lips.
He could feel West pressing back harder and thrusting his hips up and down. Gordon continued to move his finger with studied deliberation -- he could feel West working his rectal muscles. Finally there was wetness inside. Gordon exhaled a deep breath of relief as he stroked inside West's body, encouraging more fluid. He realized he could barely wait to put himself inside his partner's beautiful ass...
West was moaning again -- a deep, guttural sound. It was obvious to Gordon that his partner was very much enjoying this rape -- if one could call it rape. West seemed to be assisting the violation as much as possible.
Gordon could wait no longer; he pulled out his finger and raised up on his arms, carefully positioning himself. West groaned in protest at the interruption of his pleasure while Gordon reached down to guide the head of his penis against the damp opening. He prodded gently until he felt West's insistent backward shove -- without further hesitation he thrust forward into his partner's anus.
West made a loud sound -- whether it was one of pain or pleasure Gordon couldn't tell. (Though he suspected it might be a bit of both.) Gordon himself groaned as he felt the tight grip on his organ. With an effort he painfully drew backward.
He moved forward again, uncertain whether or not he could continue to stand the strain on his penis. Suddenly West seemed to blossom open under him -- the way was easier. Now Gordon began to work in and out in earnest.
West was moaning, but Gordon could catch edges of actual articulation. What exactly was James trying to say?
"Tell me, Jim. Tell me," he whispered insistently in West's ear.
"Uh... oh... yes!" West cried out, still seeming to be fighting his own desire to submit. Once again Gordon recognized West's dilemma -- probably better than West himself. His partner was a man who was daily forced to be the constant leader -- forced to be a strong male figure who was a confidant of presidents, governors and princes. West didn't feel he could allow himself to enjoy this type of pleasure, even while unable to deny what he wanted.
Gordon continued moving into West; he leaned over and nuzzled West's dark, sweaty hair. He breathed against an exposed ear and smiled as he felt West shiver. Then he moved his lips against West's neck and kissed the damp flesh, tasting the sweat with the tip of his tongue.
This was what he'd wanted and imagined for more months than he could remember. In fact, if he was honest with himself, this was what Gordon had wanted for years.
"Artie!" West managed to blurt his name loudly. Then he was incoherent, shouting with pleasure. His hips bobbed and his insides were jumping as he climaxed. West moved in wild abandon, clearly oblivious to anything but his own sensations and satisfaction.
Gordon felt ecstatic -- it was impossible to hold back his own orgasm. He thrust deep and felt the fluid burst out of him. He let his head roll on his shoulders, his arms tightly gripping his partner as he finished his possession. It finally ended; Gordon slumped heavily for a moment before rousing and forcing himself to slide off West's body to lie beside him.
Gordon's vision blurred and he felt almost sickeningly lightheaded. He closed his eyes and sucked in air, allowing the dizziness to pass before again opening his eyes. His breath caught as he looked directly into the stunningly blue eyes of James West. (My God, but he was moved by the sight of this man...)
"You were fine all along, weren't you?" West asked softly. "It was all an act. Do you think you could take these off now?" He lifted his arms, reminding Gordon that he was still cuffed.
Gordon decided to brazen it out. He smiled broadly. "Well, if you're talking about back at the lighthouse, no. But if you're talking about tonight..." He shrugged and continued to watch West's face closely. Then he reached over and easily released the cuffs, tossing them to the floor.
West sighed and returned Gordon's smile. "Well... I certainly had no idea it could be like that."
Gordon relaxed. "Of course you didn't, Jim. You'd never have considering trying it, would you? You had to be forced to experience it -- and who else would you consider trying it with?" Gordon's tone was assured and self-satisfied. He continued to gaze fondly at West.
West frowned. 'Oh, oh,' Gordon thought. 'Now what?'
"No. You misunderstood me. That wasn't the first time." West paused a second before continuing. "It's just that I never liked it before," he said, pushing back a strand of hair that had fallen over his forehead.
Gordon was shocked; He drew a sharp breath. Now it was his turn to frown. "What do you mean? How could it not be the first time, James?" he asked, unable to keep annoyance out of his voice.
Gordon could see West was baffled -- it was impossible to remain angry while gazing at West's confused face. James West was often boyish in expression and behavior -- and his current look seemed both innocent and youthful...
"I... Hmm." West said, tone awkward. He was obviously puzzled by the tone of Gordon's last comment.
Gordon ran a hand down one of West's arms. "Never mind, Jim. I guess I'm more possessive about you than I thought." He tried to make the words sound warm. "So who was the other lucky man? Or perhaps I should say men?"
West shook his head. "It wasn't like that, Artie. It only happened once before. While I was held captive. I certainly don't really think of it as a sexual experience. It was just another painful situation."
Gordon folded West inside his hairy arms and drew him close. "Jim! I didn't know. Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.
West relaxed in Gordon's hug and allowed himself to be cuddled. "It wasn't really any different from being beaten or tortured in some other way. That's nothing new for us, Artemus."
"Well, I'd hardly say this is the same thing! It must have been terrible for you to be used like that."
West pressed his body more deliberately against his partner. Gordon was surprised -- but immensely pleased. 'Who would have thought you could be so willingly, James? Who'd have guessed you could give yourself so completely to another man?'
"I've never thought about it much, really." West said. "About this, I mean. Growing up I did know men who preferred to be with other men. During the war there was a wonderful Captain -- a man I admired -- who was involved with our Lieutenant. The Lieutenant was killed..." West's voice trailed off. Gordon watched as his partner's eyes gazed off and his face became serious.
"Jim?" He spoke quietly gently drawing West's attention away from his memories.
"Oh, sorry, Artie," West said, smiling softly. "I guess I was remembering the battle. It was bloody and long. After those of us who survived just limped around through this meadow full of bodies. There was blood everywhere. On the grass, on us. Lieutenant Ryan -- Samuel Ryan -- had fallen at the base of this huge tree. His entire torso was torn open, probably from some shrapnel caused by cannon fire. Captain Kiles -- Captain Richard Kiles -- had managed somehow to drag himself to the Lieutenant's side. The Captain was wounded in the leg. He had a head wound, too -- I remember it clearly. Anyway, the Captain just sat there and cradled Lieutenant Ryan's face in his arms.
"He wasn't making a sound, but there were tears streaming down his face. I remember knelling beside him and wrapping a rag around the top of his head to stop the bleeding. He just looked at me. His eyes... Artie, he was in so much pain. It just tore at my guts."
"Yes, Jim. I know," Gordon offered, his voice soft with sympathy. He waited for West to continue the story. It was clear it had bothered him a great deal to have stayed so clear in his mind all these years later...
"I'd known they were... lovers. I mean, everyone knew. Captain Kiles was one of the finest men I've ever had the opportunity to know -- to serve under. I've been told Lieutenant Ryan was the same, though I never really knew him all that well.
"Both were gentlemen. They were excellent fighters -- the most gallant of comrades-in-arms to everyone they served with." West paused a moment, sighing. Gordon could both hear and feel his shuddering intake of breath.
"Well. Anyway, a lot of fine men died. It was a bloody war. But I've never forgotten what the Captain said to me when I knelt down beside him."
"What, Jim?" Gordon prompted him. "What did he say?"
"He said, 'Now I understand why Alexander couldn't go on after the death of Hephaistion. Even a great leader like Alexander couldn't stand to live without his true love and life companion.' I remember putting my arm on the Captain's shoulder, but I didn't try to draw him away from the Lieutenant. He just sat there in that meadow with death all around us and held the man he had loved.
"Two days later the Captain came down with fever. The doctors said his leg wasn't infected and that the wound on his head hadn't gone bad. I just think he didn't want to live anymore. He died calling for the Lieutenant. We all heard him."
"Alexander the Great. A lovely reference," Gordon commented, hugging West closer. "You know, Jim, Alexander was perhaps the greatest leader who ever lived -- but he gave himself to his friend and general. He freely submitted his body to his lover."
West's blue eyes stared into Gordon's dark ones. "You don't have to convince me, Artemus. I've already given myself to you -- completely. And I did it willingly. Don't you know that?"
Again Gordon smiled at his partner. He nodded. "Yes. I know. But I wasn't sure if you knew."
West laughed. "I'm not as naive as you think, Artie. I may not know much about how two men can give pleasure to each other, but I know my own mind and body pretty well."
"Do you, Jim" Gordon asked, tone light.
"Okay, what is it you think I don't know about myself?"
Gordon waited a moment before replying, considering.
He cleared his throat before speaking. "I think in some ways I know you better than you know yourself. That's all I mean, James."
West grinned. "No. You think there's something I either don't know about myself or that I'm deluding myself about. Come on. What is it, really?"
Gordon allowed himself to return West's grin. "There's no getting around you, is there? Okay, yes. I guess I have to admit that I don't think you really know your true nature."
"Which is?" West asked with interest.
Gordon put a hand on West's shoulder. "You're a natural leader, Jim. You're strong, decisive, skilled. You're charming beyond belief -- and always a complete gentleman. But you're also a masochist -- a masochist who wants to submit to another man. You want to be taken. You want it to be difficult -- and even painful. You need to be driven to let go of the control you use every minute in the rest of your life as a government agent. You want the chance to let someone else master you -- to let someone else take the responsibility away from you."
West's expression was calm. His lower lip was protruding slightly, the way it sometimes did when he was deep in thought. Then he slowly nodded in agreement. Gordon could barely suppress his surprise!
"Yes," West said. "I have to admit I've never felt so completely satisfied in my life as I did just now with you. I also have to admit that I did want it to hurt. More than once I felt a... need. I simply liked the pain." West's eyelashes fluttered briefly, making Gordon catch his breath.
"It's a relief to be held by strong arms, Artie. To just lie and give my body over to you." He paused and caught Gordon's eyes, staring hard. "But I don't want just anyone. I want you.
"I trust you, Artemus. And I think I always knew -- deep inside -- that you were the only one I could give myself to."
Gordon felt a lump rise in his throat, choking back any words he might say. He'd never expected West to be able to understand this easily -- had he been able to understand at all. Tears welled in Gordon's eyes and threatened to spill over.
"Artie. Are you alright?" West asked, still closely watching Gordon's face.
"Yes. Yes, Jim. I just want you to know how much..." He paused, again clearing his throat. "I want you to know how much I love you," he finished, a single tear running down the side of his face.
West reached a hand to touch Gordon's cheek; gentle fingers traced wet track. West cupped his hand under Gordon's chin and lifted it. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Gordon's mouth, giving him a passionate kiss.
The kiss went on for some time, with West pressing firmly and expertly into Gordon. Gordon forced himself to pull away. He gave a small laugh, and watched West's eyes grow large with surprise.
"No, Jim," he said, gently patting West's cheek. "I'm not one of your women. Don't try kissing me the way you do them. Here, let me show you."
West relaxed. He nodded and let his head tilt back slightly.
"Open your mouth, Jim," Gordon instructed. He dropped his lips over West's and thrust his tongue gently between West's lips and teeth, licking with the tip. West bolted up and clung to Gordon, his erection jutting.
Gordon pulled away, laughing breathlessly. "Ah, you liked that, didn't you, Jim?" he said teasingly. "You've kissed a lot of people in your life, but I imagine that's the first time you've ever been kissed by someone else -- isn't it?"
West was panting as he ran his tongue over his lips. He didn't answer, but only nodded anxiously. He was leaning into Gordon, and didn't need to tell Gordon how much he wanted to be kissed again. Gordon gladly obliged him, and the kiss lasted longer this time.
Though West allowed Gordon to lead the kiss, he pressed back with his own tongue, moaning deep in his throat with pleasure.
"Ah, Jim!" Gordon said, finally pulling away and breaking the long kiss. "You are such a willing and eager lover. I have so many things I want to show you."
"Yes. I'd like that," West answered hoarsely.
Gordon stroked West's damp forehead gently. "Alexander," he crooned.
West pressed his lips against Gordon's ear. "I love you," he whispered. "I will always love you."
West pressed his crotch into Gordon's leg. Suddenly he felt Gordon's erection against his thigh. He shifted his leg to press Gordon's organ more firmly and began to rock against him. They both began to rock together, the room was spinning and they were holding tightly to one another.
When they had both climaxed and fallen limply beside one another, Gordon continued to hold West. He could feel the smaller man's body finally relaxing in his arms, as West began to drift into sleep.
"Artie?" West asked, sleepily.
"I'm glad we already live together. It's going to be easy to be lovers from now on."
"Yes, Jim. Lovers."
Artemus Gordon closed his eyes, content at last to fall asleep.