…or, Enter The Dragon
“Iason! What are you doing here?”
“Winning a bet,” he said.
His shirt was on the floor next to him, along with the belt that held his rapier and dagger. I assumed he’d taken the latter off because it would have been awkward to sit up against the door with it on.
The former?
It was obvious why he’d removed that.
My pegging him as the more masculine figure seemed a lot less strange now. I was fairly physically active, generally speaking. I had strength in my arms from swinging and throwing axes, and in my legs from running, but I hadn’t been obsessive about exercise. I hadn’t ever made a habit of lifting weights or doing push-ups.
Iason, though, was a real hardbody. If I’d had any doubt that he had a measure of human blood, it flew away when I saw the definition in his chest and arms. Full-blooded elves can gain a bit of muscle, even if they never get huge, but not on the level he was showing.
That wasn’t the most striking thing about his appearance. He had pale blue tattoos over most of his torso of long-bodied dragons twined around roses, and vice-versa.
“You are a very pretty boy, for a human,” he said, getting to his feet and holding out the box. “So I thought you deserved something pretty, as a gift.”
“I don’t actually like being called ‘pretty’,” I said, making no move towards the box.
“Why not?” he asked. “You are. Golden hair. Fair skin, with a hint of rosy color in your cheeks. Full lips. Round and pleasingly firm bottom.”
There was a bit more than a “hint” of rosy color in my cheeks at this description, but I had to admit that hearing myself described in any terms with his accent and his intense lightning-blue eyes staring at me was doing more for me than making me blush.
“I prefer ‘handsome’,” I said.
He laughed.
“If I were interested in handsome boys, there are many I could have picked,” he said. “But you are something special.”
A door opened down the hall. I glanced to the side, to see one of my neighbors hurrying down towards the other corner of the hallway. I sighed.
“Let’s get inside,” I said. I saw his smile turn into a self-satisfied smirk. “Don’t get any ideas. I’d just rather do this in private.”
“As would I,” Iason said as I unlocked the door and stepped through. He followed, carrying his weapons belt and shirt. “I have to be in the right mood to appreciate an audience.”
“Ha,” I said. I closed the door and locked it. He set his things on the couch. “The thing is, well, I have a girl coming over.”
“Ah. Shall I leave and come back, or wait my turn here?” Iason said. “Or do you think she would not like sharing you?”
“No, she’s coming later,” I said. “Tonight. But, I want to be able to, you know, show her a good time, when she does.”
“Then attend carefully,” he said. “You are certain to learn something that will be useful.”
I tried to think, but there didn’t seem to be a way to say “I don’t want to have sex with you because I’m worried you’ll leave me exhausted and utterly spent.” that didn’t make it sound like I really wanted to have sex with him after all.
“You have not accepted your gift,” he said, holding the box out again.
“I haven’t accepted anything.”
“Please, there are no strings attached,” he said. “You can be gracious enough to accept a gift, honestly given, and not feel compelled to offer anything in return.”
I took it, thinking it had to be some tacky thing he’d picked up in the bookstore. They had a limited selection of knickknacks and jewelry, some of which wasn’t even emblazoned with the triple dragon crest.
I knew as soon as I’d taken the lid off the box that it wasn’t from any store on campus. It probably wasn’t from a store at all.
It was a wide bracelet of polished wood inlaid with ivory. I lifted it out of the box and turned it over. The piece was wider towards the middle, with a silver medallion bearing the image of a stag stamped in the center.
I stared at it, then I stared at Iason, waiting for him to say something. He didn’t speak.
“You can’t give me this,” I said, holding the bracelet and box out to him.
“It is mine to give, until you accept it,” he said, making no move to accept it. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. “Once it is no longer mine, then you may tell me what to do with it.”
“I’m serious,” I said. “I don’t want a boyfriend, and this is way too much for somebody you just want to fuck.”
“I told you, there are no strings,” he said.
“Then why give it to me?”
“Because I want to fuck you,” he said. “Try it on.”
It was open on the bottom, and I slipped the ends sideways over my wrist. There was a tingle, and the bracelet flipped itself around, settling neatly in place.
“It’s magic,” I said.
“Yes,” Iason said, nodding.
“I really can’t accept it,” I said, and started to take it off. At least, I tried to. It wouldn’t budge.
“You should have thought of that before putting it on,” Iason said.
“It doesn’t come off?” I asked in disbelief. “What the hell else does it do?”
“It aids in the avoidance of projectiles,” Iason said. “It warns you of danger. It lets me find you at any time.”
I looked at him to see if he was joking about the last part.
He wasn’t.
“Are you some kind of a stalker?”
“I am a hunter. You, Iamos, are my prey.”
My great-grandfather called me “Iamos”. I had always managed to avoid being creeped out by having a great-grandfather who looked nineteen or twenty, because it was normal for me. If a hot elven guy in my class started calling me the same name that he used for me, that might change.
“Jamie,” I said.
“I knew a girl with that name,” he said.
“It’s a boy’s name, too,” I said. “I think it was only a boy’s name, originally.”
“You worry about silly things. I would not be here if I thought you were a girl. I am very aware of your manhood, Iamie.”
I shifted uncomfortably. Stalker jewelry or not, I was very aware of my manhood, too.
“Jamie,” I said. There was something sexy about his accent, but it was going to get irritating if he couldn’t get my name right. “Juh-amie.”
“Zhuh-yamie.”
“Closer,” I said. “Watch my lips. Watch my tongue.”
“Very well.”
I took a breath and started to open my mouth, and suddenly he leaned forward. His lips were on mine. His tongue found mine. He moved his mouth like he was speaking some exotic, secret language. His hand was between my legs. The pressure—both from his hand and lips—was firm and insistent.
Kissing had never been part of the deal before. Some of the guys had played with it, but I’d never been interested in it. That belonged to the world of grown-up romance, of men and women, not a bunch of boys playing down by the lake. There had been a lot of kisses on the cheeks, but I got those from my family. There had been some quick, nervous brushes of lips on mine, but nothing like this.
I’d felt stirrings just looking at him. I was far beyond that now.
“Oh, fuck,” I said when we pulled apart.
“Your wish is my command,” Iason said.
He slipped his feet out of his shoes. His hands were on my belt buckle. He got the belt off and threw it, axe and all, onto the couch. The axe flew back to his hand, belt and all. He stared at it, perplexed.
“It does that,” I said. “You have to set it down. Sorry,” I said, apologizing for the mood kill.
He did, then undid my pants. His hand went into my boxers, brushing past my rock-hard cock and cupping my balls, before pulling the whole thing free. He squeezed the shaft gently, his fingers tripping up to tickle the ridge before he let go, and then he took a step back, sliding out of his pants as he did so.
He was bare underneath, and he stood in front of me, a marble statue of a warrior god painted with blue highlights. His dick and thighs were inked in the same motif as his chest. His human forebear must have been well-endowed, as he was at least an inch longer and almost as wide as mine. A dragon appeared to be laying down on top of the shaft, with clawed hands stretching out on the sides to just before the head, as if holding it.
It was a strange image, but a striking one.
I kicked off my shoes. He took hold of my jeans and began pulling them and the shorts down while I wrestled my shirt off. Once I was free of those, I stepped on the toe of one sock and pulled it off, then did the same with the other.
We were both now completely naked, and hard as rocks.
We came together. His hands slipped behind me and grabbed, lifting me into him. I was slightly taller, but he had much more length in his legs. The difference in our proportions meant I had to stand on my toes as we ground against one another, our erect dicks sliding and thrusting past each other. He kneaded my ass, his long, supple fingers playing in my crack, teasing over my tight hole.
Iason turned and half walked, half carried me over to the edge of my desk. He lifted me up so that I was sitting on it and then slid down between my legs, taking most of my cock into his mouth in one impossibly fluid motion. He sucked gently but with purpose, working a moan of satisfaction out of me, then slid off the end just as I was starting to get into it.
He leaned against me, kissing me on the lips while our throbbing dicks rubbed against each other once more. I wrapped my legs around him. He got his hands beneath me, cupping my ass again. He kissed me again, more roughly. My lip was between his teeth.
I felt like I was going to explode.
He lifted me off the desk and got me turned around. I braced myself against it, knowing what was coming next, or thinking I did. I heard a tearing sound, and then his hand was fumbling with mine. A cold circlet of metal slipped onto my finger.
There was a feeling like a puff of cool mist on my lips, the tip of my cock, and my ass. The sensation faded in an instant, leaving only a mild tingling.
I’ve just been ringed, I thought.
I’d never bothered with protection before. Probably foolish. Just because my partners had mostly been immune to disease—there were some half-elves who would have been at least slightly vulnerable—didn’t mean that I had nothing to worry about.
Points to Iason, but at the same time, it felt slightly feminizing.
He stepped away for a few seconds after slipping me the ring, and then I heard a soft, liquid squish. A fingertip covered with some warm liquid brushed against my hole, and then another tip did the same. He rubbed against me for a few seconds, then adjusted his angle with his hand and pushed.
Being fucked in the ass without the right preparation is a lot like getting stabbed; something gets thrust inside you, and there’s a lot of tearing and pain. At least at the point of entry, it can even feel like you’ve been cut. On the other hand, I’d been told that if you go slow enough, it’s possible to do it without any pain or even discomfort.
I’d never experienced that, though I’d rarely experienced the full stabbing pain, either. Teenage boys aren’t really known for their patience. Usually, it was best when I’d been active. It was harder to relax the right muscles when I hadn’t done it in a while.
That didn’t come naturally to me in the first place. Sex wasn’t particularly relaxing to me, except afterwards, and I always felt some apprehension about giving my body up to a guy, no matter how into it I was.
Iason was the first one inside me in over a month, and he was bigger than I was used to. He was gentle and well-lubricated, but the first inch or so was a real killer. Just the first part, though, and even with that my own dick twitched and jerked in anticipation as soon as he was inside me. He groaned in appreciation as I reflexively contracted around his head.
Once that passed and we’d had a few moments to get used to each other, he grabbed my hips and began to push. He slid in ever so slowly bit by bit, inch by delicious inch, opening me up wider than I’d ever been before. I relaxed and tried not to fight it, yielding myself to his marble rod. At a couple of inches in, I moaned as he bore down and rubbed against the magic sweet spot that made this kind of sex so mind-blowing, that made the initial discomfort completely worthwhile.
He moved slowly but inexorably deeper until he was more than halfway in, then stopped. I had a pleasantly full feeling. I could imagine how he felt, with my body pressing in around him on all sides. I’d felt the same thing myself many times. It was probably a little different for him, though. My human body burned hotter than that of an elf, who wouldn’t break a sweat even in the deepest throes of passion.
I was definitely sweating now. I couldn’t remember a time I’d felt hotter.
He began to move again, pulling out with the same sweetly agonizing slowness, until his cock head was almost free, almost past the point of no return, and then he thrust forward. I gasped. My cock spasmed. He moved back and forth within me, within the same space, building up speed. My dick shuddered spastically, leaking fluid. It felt so good.
His hands on my hips. His chest on my back. His breath on my neck. His cock in my ass. His ring on my finger. His bracelet on my wrist.
Iason was thrusting harder and deeper, burying himself to the hilt within me. My breath was coming fast and ragged, hot and hard. He rode me faster and faster, building until at last he tore a screaming orgasm from me. He didn’t relent, but rode me all the way through it and into the next one with no signs of finishing himself. My vision went black around the edges, with stars in the middle.
When I’d finished shooting my load on the desk, he pulled both of us back away from it, then flipped me around—still inside me—so that we were facing each other, him supporting my body with his hands He swung us around to the side of the desk so that my back was laying on it the long way, knocking a pencil holder, stapler, and lamp to the floor in the process.
“Watch my stuff!” I said, gasping.
“Yes, it’s very nice,” he replied with a huge grin, looking at my still-hard cock.
My legs were spread awkwardly around him. He ducked forward a little and I hooked them over his shoulders instead. My ass was raised off the desk. The angle was awkward, but it allowed us to look into each other’s eyes, and Iason was more than up to the task of adjusting for the difficulties. This had some advantages, too, as he was able to line up his thrusts better.
He kept right on plowing into me, bringing me to the point of another double—no, triple—orgasm, my dick spurting into the air like a tiny little geyser. He dug in deep, straining against me as I spent my seed.
Finally, he pulled out and allowed himself to climax as well, his fluid mixing with mine on my cock, thighs, and stomach.
In its own way, the clean-up was as fun as making the mess had been, and it was surprisingly tender, as well. When we were finished, we shared a slow, lingering kiss that was no less powerful for having none of the urgency of the first.
“You must let me know tomorrow if you had anything left for your lady-friend tonight,” Iason whispered. “If so, then I will have to try harder next time.”
Aw, fuck, I thought. Missy.
As if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

In ToMU, People complained that sex came only after a long time, they felt they’d been tricked into reading what was only going to be a porn story.
in MoToMU, people complain that the sex appears too soon, so clearly it’s only going to be a porn story
And M is happy for there to be as much girl-on-girl action, or girl-on-boy as possible, but flounced off after reading the single male-male scene in ToMU, and does the same here.
Alexendra is right, what ever she does, she upsets some readers, so she may as well do it her way.
I… couldent do it. I… I skiped to the end! Shame!
Amen to Justin!
No one can keep everyone happy all the time, just some of the people some of the time.
So let AE write and if you don’t like it then too bad, it’s her story not yours.
Wow, where’s the “James is Mackenzie” stuff coming from? Just because he didn’t initiate this? He knows *exactly* what he’s doing. He’s eager. If anything, he’s too eager, he should’ve turned Iason down. Meanwhile, Mack didn’t even know what was going on.
James is Mackenzie.
At least, that is what some say.
Maybe he’s a sub.
It’s only the start
Of a brand spanking new tale
James is not Mack… yet
What’s with the haikus?
I thought that was Zathras’ thing.
Perhaps I was wrong.
I should like to see
Those imitating Zathras
Attempt a sonnet.
Twelve lines and strange rhyme,
Iambic pentameter,
My challenge awaits.
@107 Andy
lolol. Stuff that… I’m not THAT smart.
I’m good at haiku.
I’m not sure about sonnets.
Perhaps I should try?
I agree in large part with what Blue said…and I don’t understand the people saying “oh, he could come 8 times, that means number 9 won’t be a problem either”…It gets progressivemy harder, you know. I’ve come eight times in a day, and I don’t think number nine would’ve been very interesting…or even fun, to be honest. Having that for Missy is unfortunate.
I put my money where my mouth does boast
To try my hand at this and do my best.
Although this sonnet shall not be the most
Well done, what man would I be ignoring my request?
We have our choice of rhythm here; to each
His own. And let us choose the one we know
We can in truth do most well. Now I teach
In this unlikely poem an example to show
An English sonnet that is not done well.
My rhyme is bad, my meter too, I must
Admit defeat. My skill is low and yet
I try. Forgive my humble fail. I trust
This will discourage none. I would my bet
Be taken up by some brave soul. Enough!
By Khersis Dei, a sonnet’s fracking tough!
BTW, I was wrong, sonnets have 14 lines, not twelve.
Nice one Andy
You’ve done immeasurably better than I ever could have! Kudos to you for taking up your own challenge.
And grrr to you for making me look dumb lol
Although may I add that your sonnet was 15 lines long? Rather than the amended 14?
LOL! Good show, Andy. I’m still debating whether I should try or not. Like I said, I’m fairly good at haiku, but a sonnet is another matter altogether. Even with haiku I have to force the words to work sometimes.
Although I might try a limerick instead, if that’s okay?
There once was a man named Andy
Whose sonnets were really quite dandy
Although the lines were too many
It really was quite heavy
We now know he’s really quite manly
I know it doesn’t quite rhyme, but it suits coz he took up his own challenge with gusto
And sorry for like triple posting… I’m in one of those spontaneous moods where I can only think of one idea at a time and by the time I write it I’m itching to hit the submit button!
And GO the LIMERICK!
PS: I hope the limerick makes me look less dumb now
PPS: I’ll just stop posting now shall I? *glances around the room shiftily*
Heh. Well, I did say I failed. Unfortunately, I can’t find a way to fix it without destroying the meaning and all. Oh well. Maybe I’ll have to write a new one or something.
Just need to add one thing:
Krista, you amuse me.
Anywho, back to story discussion…
Is the stag really Iason’s family crest? I thought it was more of a joke about the “stag rider” thing.
I only think of
It as double-posting if
both posts are the same.
@Andy and Annoying. Man you guys are cracking me up at the moment…
Although I might say that I think the stag crest thing might be more of a joke, as Iason is a stag rider, but also it helps his chosen stag to be ‘hunted’ by him, and to avoid other men’s ‘projectiles’… if you get my drift.
And how the hell are you guys (Andy and annoying) staying awake this early in the morning? Or are you not in the US of A?
I’m not, it’s only 6:30pm here in Australia.
If it was 4am in the morning I would be sound asleep, and if I was attempting to stay awake all night until then I’d probably be unintelligible by then.
Interesting thought. Makes me wonder how much thought AE puts into the symbolism. Especially since if the stag means all that as well as being the crest, there’s a crapload of symbolism. A stag or deer in heraldry means peace and harmony, or one who will not fight unless provoked. That seems to be fitting Jamie so far.
Is Iason’s stag
His family’s crest or is
He marking James?
I’m in the Central timezone of the USA, but I don’t work until 1 PM. So I can sleep until noon, and I can generally get by on anything more than 4 hours of sleep. I try for at least 6, though.
I’m not staying up any later than AE is. She has to let our comments through.
But who said it was a family crest to begin with?
Maybe it’s just a perky braceket for stag riders to catch their not-always-so-willing stags?
Man am I glad I’m not in ur timezone.
In fact, I’m talking to you guys out of the future… 14 or so hours from the future…lol
@ Krista:
One of the earlier commenters said something about it. I dunno if they’re right or not, but the symbolism is good either way.
@ annoying:
I think she actually mods our comments later. She just has to approve us the first time we post (unless she’s disabled that) and then comes by and reads everything later.
@annoying: If it recognizes you, it lets you through without delay, so no, I’m not actually up right now.
Scary isn’t it?
Talking to people who are
In the future, eh?
So guess it’s my time to drop my thoughts on this story, and the comments
First of all, don’t remember who said s/he was disappointed about the use of cliche’s. I read that as the way Jamie thinks. He doesn’t know how to express sex, so welcome marble rod.
Next, hot hot hot, female, straight, love to read/see the odd man on man action.
I also think that Jamie has a hard time labeling himself as homosexual/bisexual or even straight considering his first contacts with sex and from who he learned it. He learned of sex in a culture that doesn’t label the sex more than “fun-sex” and “reproductive-sex”. He is open about liking boys, he is open about having had sex with boys (not to Marlot, but I don’t blame him) but he easily admitted it to Missy.
And last but not least. Yes, this chapter contained sex. Yes Jamie has talked about boobies, about asses he has mentioned sex quite a lot in earlier chapters too. He wanted Pelinor because he had single showers and could more easily treat himself in the mornings. I think it is fairly sure he has a healthy sex drive. And considering it’s AE’s writing I would be disappointed if it wasn’t some hotness going on. Just don’t go make the same mistake as we all seem to do as soon as a character does something irrational and make that thing all that matters for said person.
You seem pretty up to me AE.
I can see where, to the untrained eye, it might seem that way… but what you are observing is, in point of fact, a weather balloon.
@ AE 129:
LOLOLOLOLOL
…unless she forsaw something like this and programmed a bot. Then she’s just prescient.
OH NOES, I MISSED AN
OPPORTUNITY TO WRITE
ANOTHER HAIKU!
I do what I must, because I can.
Are you doing science and are you still alive, then?
That weather balloon
Looks a lot like a woman
To me, Ms. Erin.
heeh… you guys r funny.
And I am seriously confusied with the whole balloon thing. Someone please explain to me?
AE has been at the helium again. She breathed too much and is now floating around like a balloon.
That, or she’s trying to confuse us. Not sure which.
heeh… helium baloons at parties… ahh the memories… the times when sounding like a chipmunk was actually physically possible!
I had a lot of fun trying to tell one of my friends that she actually had to INHALE from the balloon and not breathe it out right away.
And videotaping people at a formal afterparty doing the helium thing with all the balloons I snagged from the place.
I think it’s a reference to something, but I don’t remember what.
Well, I must away to my sleeping chambers and hibernate for 7 hours. If you would like to continue discussions, Krista or annoying (or anyone, I suppose), leave me a note on my LJ with some way to contact you.
Okies.
Sleep well then.
mmm… sleep… *drool* lol
A good night to you
Andy of many haiku
And a sonnet, too!
I think I’ll follow
Suit. And go to bed, too. Just
Like Andy did. ‘Night!
Well done annoying
For writing many haiku
That are funny, too
AE, I want to thank you for something. Recently, I’ve started to wonder if perhaps I might have a bit of bi-curiosity (not in an “OMFG I’m turning into a faggot!” kind of way, but in a simply curious about myself kind of way.) After trying and failing to read this, I realize that I am not. Thank you for helping me understand myself better. I probably won’t be reading anymore of this storyline because of that. Note that I have no problem with homosexuals, I think that you did your normal mind-blowing job with characterization and description. . . this just isn’t my thing, so if it’s going to be a normal thing in the story, I’ll put it down. To all of you who liked it, more power to you, and keep enjoying the best writer on the internet as she describes the things you like.
Wow. Jumping the shark after only twelve chapters. I really expected better than this…
@everyone who replied to my comment (lol)
ok i have some seriously homophobic friends….
oh well
interesting that i found it kinda hot too when ive never really considered guys…..
interesting