Long Form Roleplayers

Previous Chapters: Part 1

Volos:
I take full advantage of the detectives being distracted over the last week by the injuries I inflicted on one of them, leaving him battered, raped, and bearing the Mark of the Wolf. My rampage on the gangs of Chicago has been brutal, bloody, and has struck terror in the collective heart of the criminal underworld. After the first few attacks, gang members stopped meeting on the streets and alleyways of the city. The residents of the shadowed roadways breathed in relief that they were no longer in danger outside their homes.

The deals have moved indoors, the criminals refusing to allow potential rivals or informers where they live, have taken their dealings to restaurants and bars in the South Side. It has been a challenge, even to my heightened senses, to discover when and where to find them. When have I not met a challenge? I hear fragments of conversations, see furtive travels after dark, then the unmistakable apprehension - the pheromones of anxiety and fear - of the patrons. I can no longer attack under the sheath of darkness, with witnesses who choose to close their curtains. I must strike and kill in front of people I must trust to remain silent about details which may betray my secrets. I approach tonight’s target, the notorious Colosimo’s.

Volos:
I burst through the front door and spot my quarry at a long table at the back of the dining room, as was their predilection. I pause, my arms outstretched, accentuating the massive form of my seven-foot, sable-furred frame, to allow the diners in front of me to clear their way out of my path of destruction. My reputation has preceded me and they comply, most moving entirely to be spared the sight of the massacre to come, others on the sidelines to watch my own form of justice to be visited on those who have terrorized them these many years.

The criminals cannot help but see me, half are frozen in horror, the other half rising to draw their guns. With Wolfen speed, I am at the table in a blur, attacking those with guns first, more for the protection of bystanders than any harm that could come to me from mere bullets. A head flies in one direction, a gun with the dismembered hand of the criminal still clutching it arcs toward the other wall. I am bloodily efficient in killing them, taking with me just enough for dinner, pulling the tablecloths off to cover the corpses in case the other patrons still have an appetite.

The detective will have recovered by now. I hope that he has been frightened off the case by what I did to him, for fear of what I could do next.

Detective William Banks:
The last week has been the most humiliating of my life. I swear to god my injuries are not as bad as they say they are, but orders from the chief dictate I stay here in the hospital and rest. I argued I needed to keep on the case, and demanded he do something to let me keep working. Neglected the bit about being raped by a wolf monster, but he got the point after I threatened to quit the force. As such Fernand has been meeting with me daily to go over the details everyday, usually using his status to smuggle in some real coffee and not taht fucking stuff they are peddling in the cafeteria.

I wasn’t surprised to find out that the killings are getting worse. Maybe the creature was pulling back because Fernand and I were investigating, but now that I’m out of commission, he just doesn't seem to care. The criminal activity is falling for sure, but it’s an illusion, the criminals will adapt like they always do. Everyday after I read the morning paper and again when Fernand comes by, I get so pissed over the whole thing. I want… I so very much want to catch this creature and make him pay not just for what he did to me, but for the many victims he is taking.

On the second day of Fernand coming with his reports, we found some solace when the radio started playing some wrestling matches for us to listen to. The announcers and what not calling the match move by move. It’s not as good as watching the real thing, but even imagining the action got me pretty hard. The third day Fernand noticed just how excited I was and well, he was really friendly with me stuck in bed. To be honest, I’ve only ever handled my manhood myself, so for another person to come along and offer me a hand with the act… I’m really happy Fernand was the one to do it. He knew how to time it just right with the match finish.

I’m off topic again, I need to focus on the case. Fernand is a fine man, seems to really like me. I just hope that this scar isn’t too ugly for him. An eternal reminder of the unpleasantness of that night, and why I have to hunt this monster down. I’ll put a stop to him I swear, no more victims criminal or not, no more rapes. No more Wolf.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
William is recovering, much to my relief. He wants to read the daily reports and I am glad to have the excuse to spend as much time as possible with him. Official police investigation overrules the trepidations of hospital staff at your lack of rest, but they see that my presence calms you down. I stop at the coffee shop on the way in on the second day, ignoring the hospital rules of outside food or beverage. I’m French.. Madame Kessler’s eyes twinkle and the corners almost smile when I ask for your favorite pastry. “The Detective likes the jelly doughnuts with the raspberry filling” she replies. As I leave, I hear her murmur, “L’amour…”

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
I arrive at the hospital room with my offerings of pastry and coffee. Why can’t I help showing you that lop-sided grin. “Madame Kessler suggested I get this for you.” I look into your pained eyes and my heart hurts. But you want to review the files of the latest crimes. The radio begins announcing the day’s wrestling match and I see you paying attention, we listen together and I recall my past in training in all forms of combat but wrestling the most appealing to me outside of police work.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
The next day I arrive with more coffee; Madame Kessler has prepared an almond croissant for you, knowing I would be there to bring you a treat. We review the reports as we have our breakfast. The wrestling show comes on the radio, both of us fantasizing about how the warriors look, sweaty and muscles bulging. I see your hospital blanket tent and I wonder….. “Should I?” I am bold and reach under your covers. I grip your engorging cock and stroke, I grasp it, stroke it, responding to your body arching. As one wrestler pins the other, you explode in my hand, a full load cascading down my palm and fingers.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
The sheets have slipped down, your hospital gown has slipped up, exposing the scabs of the “V” carved into your flesh. I take the ointment from your table and gently stroke it into your wounds. When done, I lean down to brush my lips against yours, “You need your rest, I will be back tomorrow.” I look into your eyes before stroking your cheek. “Sleep well.” I head back to my hotel, knowing what I want to do for you upon your release, but my headache is
coming on,

Detective William Banks:
Finally the day for the stitches to be removed comes and my last moment of disgrace is at the end. I lay there stripped to the waist in the hospital bed as the doctor snips them one by one. Fernand is there too at my request, watching as they remove each stitch. Hospital staff agreed to let him be present as he helps to keep me calm. Snip by snip, pull by pull, I feel the string sliding across my skin as it comes undone. Doctor looks down at me with a smile, but I can see the look of pity in his eyes for such a beautiful chest like mine to be scared so badly.

“Over time it should fade.” He says. Like that would somehow make me feel better, bedside manner is a god awful joke. I don’t question the man though, just what this farce to be over. As soon as the stitch is out, I buck up from the bed moving to Fernand. “Let’s get out of here, I’ve had enough of this terrible place. Just want to get a good meal and to get to bed.”

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
I watch your discomfort at the removal of the stitches, I can tell you’re troubled by your scars. I wonder if you think I would care any less of you for your perfect torso being disfigured, or if you are thinking of other attachments in the future. I put the second thought out of my mind. I grin at you.

“You may wish to get dressed before we dine out, William.” I watch you as you dress, those strong muscles rippling as you pull your clothes on and I imagine you taking them back off for Fernand every time. Maybe there is something growing here, something that is stronger than the obsession that’s been brewing ever since my attack in the alley.

“I would love to go with you Fernand. Of course!” I must sound dumbfounded repeating myself like that. Maybe I am, just the idea of dinner and watching a match has me in a better mood than I’ve been all week. I finish dressing, showing off an impressive display of putting my own tie on without the use of a mirror, and get my coat on. “Let’s get out of this place. I never want to be in a hospital again!”

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
As you dress, I see the choices being determined. Of course you want to get back to the case, look at what the monster did to you. I am crestfallen at first, thinking you will return to obsess over the case rather than spend the … I realize I nearly thought “spend the night” … and I retreat to wishing for the evening. I am relieved when you say you want to join me, and that our mutual - appreciation - of wrestling last night may gain further exploration between us.

I lead you out of the hospital room, taking your arm to support you, or perhaps just to touch you, to the street.

I glance to my side, looking for your glances at me in return. I have never felt this way before, I have had affairs before, quite a few, but I’ve never been in love. Am I falling for this unsophisticated American detective?

The host at the Triangle Restaurant smiles as we enter, “Messieurs, your table is ready.”

Detective William Banks:
Thoughts so focused on the case and the action tonight with a live match, I’m almost caught off guard when the host comes up. Right this place, I should start thinking up something fancy sounding so I don’t look like some country bumpkin. I let Fernand take lead with the conversation, sure he will order some bottle of wine with more silent letters in it than I care to count. I just look over the menu looking for something with a lot of meat in it considering the lack of good food I’ve had over the week and end up deciding on this dish. “I’d like the Orecchiette with Veal, and a bottle of Acme Beer if you carry it.”

You are not logged in. You are not logged in. - Acme Beer

With Prohibition formally over 4 years earlier in 1933, it means good beer is finally plentiful again. Indulging in it during those dark days was probably the worst crime I’ve ever committed, though the whole thing kept my pa clean and sober, so there’s that. Small blessing and all given how he might have lost himself to the bottle after mom died of Spanish Flu a decade earlier. Realizing I’m getting lost in thought again, I turn my attention to the handsome man across the table from me just as he finishes ordering.

“So the match tonight.” I cock a smile, “I can’t believe you got us tickets to the show, the belt is up for grabs from the Heavyweight Champion himself, Bronko Nagurski. Man sounds amazing, and he’s facing Dean Detton again, the man he stripped of the title. It’s going to be exciting for sure!”

You are not logged in. - Dean Nagurski

You are not logged in. - Dean Detton

Just thinking about it has me grinning like a boy again, and a bit aroused under the tablecloth. I just can’t wait to see Broken beat his ass again with that hot dragon sleeper of his.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
I had been concerned I went too far in making a surprise date right after your release from the hospital, but your reaction as we …. listened to the match together had built up my confidence. Your smile of delight and gushing about hearing this match warms my heart. I wonder what other interests we will discover that we have in common.

I wince a bit when you order beer with your Orecchiette with Veal, but I think I hid the expression. I hope I hid the expression. “Garçon, the coq au vin, s'il vous plaît.” I nod and the waiter looks at me knowingly, that I will have a glass of the Châteauneuf-du-Pape. I look at your face, so handsome and so troubled.

Detective William Banks:
I noticed that wince, if ever so slightly, when I ordered my beer. What can I say, I’ve been deprived of the drink for a week. Soon as the waiter is gone I start talking though. “Sure am looking forward to tonight. The radio man said it was gonna be a rematch for the belt. Pa and me used to go to the matches when he could swing it, and we would get real excited. Course… I have a feeling we were looking for different things in the sport. How about you Fernand, why do you like wrestling so much? Please tell me it's the mostly naked men.”

About this time the waiter comes back with the beer I ordered and your fancy wine with the fancy â in the title. He pops the cap off my bottle and I take a good long drink. “Oh God. It’s better than sex.” I crack a playful grin over at you gauging your reaction.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
I smile at your handsome face as you become animated, talking about wrestling, how going to matches was such a bonding experience with your father. I’ve never seen this gleeful an expression on your face since we met. I’m lost more in the enjoyment of watching your eyes dancing, your hands expressing your emotions, and the grin on your usually stoic face than in what you're saying. I realize you're asking me a question that I haven’t paid attention to and my mind frantically tries to reconstruct what I heard.

I get a reprieve when the waiter arrives with our drinks. I take a sip of the wine as you take a long draw of the beer. Your comment about it being better than sex gives me pause, wondering about your erotic skills or possibly your choice of partners. But it does remind me that your question had something to do with wrestling and nearly naked men. I smile, “I will admit the sight of muscular, sweaty bodies is much of the appeal. So does the struggle, the primeval desire of men to dominate…” I realize I’m waxing philosophically when you wish to hear the heat and desire. I am rescued again when the waiter brings out our meals.

Detective William Banks:
“Desire to dominate…” I dwell on that for a moment, getting lost in my own thoughts. The thrill of the sport for me is rooted in a struggle of course, but of men trying to outdo each other with tactical moves while feeling each other up in the process. More like a game of poker or maybe chess if you're more of the sophisticated sort. Dominance though? The waiter arrives just in time to derail my thought process on the matter.

My stomach growls as I smell the meat. He places it down right in front of me, even asking if I want some cheese grated on it, think this place is too fancy for me. I suppose if I’m going to get serious with Fernand, maybe I better get used to it. Speaking of which, I keep an eye on you to see how you are reacting to me. I see you take your wine and give it a sip. Wine always seemed to fancy a drink for a person like me, but perhaps that's just some low expectation I’ve held for myself all my life.

“Fernand, maybe you can teach me some of that wine etiquette you seem so well educated on. Always room to grow, am I right? Maybe if we head off to France or wherever cross the Atlantic, you could help me get a better grasp on that whole thing.” I don’t mention how there is a whole culture behind beers and the tastes of them, might not be your thing. Regardless, I start to enjoy my meal while genuinely having a good time with you.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
The waiter brings your meal and my chicken, and you accept his offer of freshly grated cheese on your pasta. I watch you observing how I hold the wine glass and sip from it. You inquire about being taught more about wine and I smile as you treat us going to France as a foregone conclusion, which in my mind it is.

“We can start with our next meal together if you like, William. To be honest, much of what French people do or say about wine is primarily to impress other French people.” I give you my lop-sided grin and take a bite of the expertly prepared chicken. “Perhaps I’ll even take you to Alsace. But be warned, Alsatian beer is world class. You may be spoiled if …. when … you come back and return to what passes for beer here in the States. I would suggest Germany but matters there are rather unfriendly to the French and the Americans”

I continue with my meal, wondering what mood you’ll be in after an evening of wrestling.

Detective William Banks:
I consume my meal slowly this time, savoring the veal. I don’t know all the details about it other than it's more expensive than most meat, but I’ve had it before and it always seemed chewy… so I like it. The talk about beer brings a smile to my face, “I’ve always wanted to go on a beer tour before. I know you are mainly into wine, but maybe it is something we could do together. After All, when people get together, they tend to start liking each other's hobbies.”

Dinner progresses with all the formalities we’ve previously shared, all while I loosen up and talk about more intimate things. It’s clear that I’ve been somewhat repressed in my life about engaging with men, something that has been rooted in fears of my father’s reaction. In a way, his death served as a means to give me freedom, though that is hardly a silver lining to the massacre he suffered. Having seen the beast with my own eyes now, my feelings to catch it redouble, the thoughts no doubt showing in my casual actions before Fernand tonight. I try to distract myself after a bit, returning to the thoughts of the match you so kindly reserved for us.

“I really hope that Bronko is able to retrain the belt tonight, plus I would love to see him finish Detton with that Dragon Sleeper of his. I’ve never seen him wrestle in person before, always had to use my imagination, but I bet it’s a sight to behold.”

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
Your enthusiasm for the upcoming match is delightful to watch and listen to. We skip dessert to be sure to get to the auditorium in time. We walk to the train station together, finding each other so easy to talk to and be with. You’re so excited that you do most of the talking, and mostly about wrestling and wrestlers. I picture your muscular body in a singlet or trunks with wrestling boots on, and I’m happy I wore the looser slacks so my excitement is not as obvious.

We climb the stairs to the boarding platform for the elevated train. The train arrives and we find adjoining seats, despite the car being relatively busy. The clatter of the wheels on the metal tracks makes conversation difficult but I don’t particularly mind just sitting next to you, our buttcheeks touching but not so much as to draw attention to it.

After a few stops, we exit and make our way to the doors. Standing in line with other wrestling fans, we listen to the arguments between friends over which opponent will have the belt at the end of the night. I think two of them may come to blows before we can even enter the building but they stand down. Our tickets are taken and we find our seats. I was able to get us in the third row, halfway between Bronko’s corner and a neutral corner. The sounds of the crowd are excited and loud as we wait for the opening match.

Detective William Banks:
It is noticeable that the trip on the train has me on edge, it being the first time I was on one since the night of the attack. Fortunately you do a great job of distracting me and keeping me focused on our budding relationship. Fortunately we are not on very long, and more important, not walking through an alley afterwards.

Arriving at the show causes my behavior to loosen up considerably. I insist on getting us some popcorn for the show in fact. Finally the first set of matches begin, and see the sport live before our eyes, a couple of sweaty men trying to assert their dominance on each other. The whole time my hand slides down to your thigh feeling your impressive muscle, my eyes rarely leaving the action except for in between matches, when I’m happy to talk to you about what just happened. Finally the main event comes…

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
We share the popcorn with our hands occasionally brushing as we reach for salty, buttery kernels in the bag. I feel your hand on my thigh and, in the darkened auditorium, I grip yours as well. The physical action in front of us, along with your presence so close, have my adrenaline and testosterone elevated. I’m concerned that you can feel the heat emanating from my body.

Announcer:

You are not logged in. - Annoucer

Ladies and Gentleman, children of all ages, tonight’s main event is the rematch of the year! In his corner wearing black trunks weighing in at 232 lbs. He is the the World Heavyweight Champion and a former Chicago Bear, performing right here in his hometown, Broko Nagurski!

You are not logged in. - Bronk Nagurski

And his opponent, from Richmond Utah, weighing in at 215 lbs. He is the former World Heavyweight Champion and looking to reclaim the belt! Dean Detton!

You are not logged in. - Dean Detton

Here they go, the two step up center of the ring, Broko offering a handshake. Will Dean accept? He does! What a fine show of sportsmanship, the crowd loves it! Now the ref comes up willy nilly. He throws out his hands and Ding Ding, the match is on. Quarter and Elbow lock up, the two are already giving it their all…

Detective William Banks:
Watching the action I get really excited now. Not afraid to admit it, but I've had a bit of a passing crush on Broko ever since I saw him in the paper when I was younger. Local hero and all, being a part of the Chicago Bears, a local football team. Pa used to take me out to the games, so when I heard about him going into wrestling, well… hero worship is always funny. Regardless of how the match is playing out, my grip on Frenand’s thick thigh remains strong even creeping up a little too. I’m watching the whole match going back and forth, loving every moment of it. The best part of all this excitement though is that for the first time in a week my mind is entirely focused on something other than work. It’s almost like I’m a boy again, and I owe it all to Fernand for giving me such a wonderful gift.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
I’m enchanted by the boyish look of delight on your face as you take this all in. I now know you’ve followed Bronko’s career for quite some time, something I did not realize when I bought the tickets. What a happy coincidence!

I’m apprehensive to make a move with you, considering our work relationship and your recent recuperation. But with as good a time you seem to be having in my company, I’m emboldened. As the grapplers lock up, I lean toward you and whisper, “William, what do you think of you and me going back and practicing a few wrestling holds after this?”

Detective William Banks:
So caught up in the action you question almost blindsides me. Over the last week at the hospital listening to matches with you, it’s pretty clear to me you yourself are a fan of the sport, and let’s face it, you have the body for it. With so many new experiences in my life going on with life lately, my response is quick and immediate. “I would love to Fernand.” I squeeze your hand to reassure you I am paying attention to your question.

Announcer:
Here we go folks, Dean on the comeback. He irish whips Bronko right into the corner, ouch that’s gotta smart! Oh here he comes rushing in with a follow-up, going for the clothesline to the corner! The crowd is absolutely on fire! Could Dean actually be on the war path to reclaiming the championship?

Detective William Banks:
Seeing Bronko in the corner there take the clothesline makes me wince, but because of his pain and more the realization how confident he is there with his big chest on display. My fingers come up to my shirt feeling inside them for a moment, feeling the scar tissue on it. I just agreed to Fernand’s request minutes ago to roll around with him tonight, and I’m fine with that. I just don’t know if I could ever bring myself to show my chest in public like these two prime athletes are doing right now. At one point I might have wanted to try and be a wrestler myself, but not now, not with this scar. Does that make me a coward or just incredibly fucking vain? I look over to you Fernand now to see if you notice me fidgeting with my scars… knowing what is running through my mind.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
Even though I thought you would find my proposition at least worth considering, your quick acceptance is still a relief. I’m not sure how I would have reacted had you put me off. Now that I can breathe again, I realized how crushed I would have been. I smile at you but before I can say anything else, action erupts in the ring, catching both our attention. I knew little or nothing about either of the opponents but if William Banks is a Bronko fan, then Fernand Laurent is a Bronko fan.

I turn back to you and I see your attention has turned to your chest and I know you’re thinking about your scar and how I will react. The only emotion I feel is anger and now hatred for the beast that marked you; that and a little curiosity if the “V” had a meaning for the mass killer. I give your thigh a gentle squeeze. “If you’re concerned about the scars, I’ve seen them while you were in the hospital. I still would like to be with you tonight. If you’re self-conscious, we can leave our undershirts on while we wrestle.” I pause for your reaction and slip you a sly grin. “At first, at least.”

Detective William Banks:
The scar is a distraction for sure as I watch the action, then I realize I’m starting to ignore Fernand while sitting here feeling my chest. I look away from the action and turn towards you now making eye contact. “Fernand, I know you won’t judge me for it. The whole thing has me upset of course. Those guys out there…” I gesture to the ring with Bronko and Dean tossing each other around, “It’s the type of thing I might have wanted to be someday. Now, though… There are many other paths open to me. One of them is… with you.” I run my hand over yours and squeeze it a bit, letting you know my attention is here with you.

“I realize I’ve been off all night, Fernand. I’m not trying to ignore you, I’m just distracted. So many things running through my mind. A good amount of fear too, concerned that creature may still be hunting me.” My eyes drift back to the action in the ring for a moment, but then back to you. “This creature has disrupted my life more than once you might not realize. I was thinking of leaving the force when I was younger to go after a life in wrestling. Then this creature ate my pa. Caused me to chase after it becoming a detective. Years later, here we are Fernand. An attractive boyfriend who seems to care about me and a horrible scar on my body probably trying to scare me away. Maybe I should just take your offer and run off with you...”

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
I look at you as you open your heart to me. The crowd sounds and the ring action fade from my attention as I listen to your history, your fears, your confession of attraction to me. You followed your father into this profession, as did I. You lost yours to the beast and I am obsessed with solving the case that my father never could. And then I hear you say that you see a path forward with me. I hear you call me “boyfriend” and your wish to run off with me. I picture us in Paris, weekends in Avignon and the nearby vineyards of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, the trips to Alsace. I never expected this case to lead me to someone I … I’ve always held myself back, I can hardly think this is possible … to someone I could love.

“William …. I will help you find justice for your father as we bring this beast to heel … together. Perhaps you will gain some peace about his fate.” I am not sure how to continue, but my mouth talks without regard to my brain, "When we solve this case, William, come away with me. But let us start down that path tonight.”

Detective William Banks:
I am pulled into your words in the tender moment we share. To run off with you is something that would certainly give closure to this chapter of my life no matter how this case turns out. Sometimes when a person is flooded with tragedy, all they can do is move on to something better. Chicago is a great city in some aspects, but for me it’s been a life of suffering. I lost my mother to the pandemic of 1918, lost my father to Gruesome Alley, and lost part of myself to the same thing that killed him. I think I’ve had enough of this city, and enough of the sacrifice. I want to live for myself for a change, and Fernand may very well be the key to happiness.

Announcer:
Bronko on the offense! Here he comes bouncing back on the ropes, he jumps! Oh Dropkick right in the chest. Dean is on his back, walloped in the center of the ring! I can’t believe this comeback! Oh, could it be, is Bronko going for the finish? Here he comes, grabbing Dean’s head. They struggle, both men sweating up a storm, glistening more than the championship belt itself! Can he lock it? Dean Detton in trouble! There it is, Bronko locks in his Dragon Sleeper, the same move that ended things last time they fought! It’s all but over now!

Detective William Banks:
It is unfortunate that as you speak your words, the sounds of the announcer catch my attention. I turn my head just in time to see Bronko locks on his finisher, the Dragon Sleeper! I grab your hand in a hurry. “Look Fernand! There it is!” My full attention focused on it as I see Dean struggling, trying to get free. The sweat on his torso shining under the lights while Bronko sits there with the smuggest look on his face in the entire room. A minute later, we witness Dean have to surrender to the move, him suffering a humiliating defeat against the man who took his title, in the same move that stripped him of it months ago. I am ecstatic, all the gloom in my mood washed away in a moment of primal struggle between these two gladiators.

A few minutes later the announcer calls the match and things start to die down, the show finishing. I turn back to Fernand realizing that you were saying something when the climax hit. “Sorry about that Fernand, didn’t mean to interrupt. What were you saying?” I start grabbing my coat and hat getting ready to leave.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
Your man puts on the finishing hold and submits his opponent. You are caught up in the climax of the match as we stand up to applaud his victory. We grab out coats and hats and you ask what I was saying. I can’t blame you for losing track in your excitement of how this fight turned out. I smile at you and say, “I’ll tell you later after we grapple. I’m a bit afraid of your Dragon Sleeper.” I move close so the crowd can’t see me hold your hand as we exit. “Are we going back to your place, William? My hotel room isn’t ideal for wrestling.”

Detective William Banks:
With the match over and our coats in hand, as soon as we are clear of the building and have some space from the crowd, I move in and give you a big hug. Upon doing so there is a slight wince from the removed stitches, but it’s nothing I can’t tolerate. “We can use my place, but there isn’t any carpet. Might have to be a little careful throwing each other around, but I look forward to wrestling around a little after in my bed.” I give you a wink as I say that last part.

I start trying to move us off toward the nearest train clearly looking to get home quickly now with the rush of the match still in my system. This is clearly the most happy I’ve been since the night of the attack… maybe the most happy I’ve been in years.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
You start us off toward the nearest train station but I am too impatient for that long a wait. I pull you by the hand to the curb and with my free hand, I put two fingers in my mouth and let loose an ear-splitting whistle. A taxi veers over from three lanes away to pick us up. We tumble into the backseat and I look to you to give your address.

You are not logged in. - Taxi Cab

Detective William Banks:
Seeing you so excited to get us home brings a smile to my face, and perhaps a little pain to my ears with that loud whistle of yours. Only a moment later, one of those new automobiles shows up looking like a steel chariot to take us away. We quickly get in with me giving the driver my address. Sitting in the backseat I can’t help but to rub my hand over your thigh, me working real hard not to outright start kissing you. The man driving is looking at us in the mirror, and I can’t help but to be a bit judgemental about the action, I do have some notoriety to me in the city afterall. My emotions get the better of me though, and since I’ve practically decided I’m leaving this city in a few weeks with you, I give in. I grab your head, the most aggressive I’ve ever been with you, turn it towards me, and give you a deep kiss.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
We climb into the cab and the driver heads off to your apartment. I feel your hand grip your thigh and see the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror, harsh and hateful. I don’t care, if he causes a scene, I feel aggressive enough to teach him a lesson. In a few seconds, you pull my face to mine and kiss me. I’ve wanted this moment for some time now but still you startle me. I begin to pull back in surprise, but then I melt into it, my arm pulling your shoulder in, our tongues flicking and probing. We stay that way until the cab pulls up to your apartment building, with its prominent fire escapes. I pay the cabby and tip him fairly well. “You might want to reserve your judgments with other fares.” I step out of the cab and let you lead me to your front door.

Detective William Banks:
Heading up to my apartment on the third floor, you see a simple dwelling of a man not concerned about vanity. A simple studio apartment with practically everything in the same room except for the bath and toilet. Small kitchen table with two seats over a hardwood floor, a couch over along the wall next to the window, and of course my bed with a nightstand and dresser. Coming on in, I take off my coat and hat hanging it on the coat hanger by the door, and then like a proper bloke, I offer to take yours as well. With those formalities out of the way I undo my tight and top couple buttons of my shirt.

“Let’s drink a little water before we start.” I get us a couple glasses filled from the tap, passing one to you while I take a drink. “Probably to take it easy you realize on account of these stitches having just come out. I damn sure ain’t going to be going back to that hospital anytime soon, so let’s roll around for a bit and enjoy one another, but nothing too rough. What do you think?”

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
We trudge up the steep stairs to your walk-up apartment. The walls and floors are sparse but clean. My heart is beating harder and faster, not because of the climb, but of what this night promises. You usher me into your spartan home, nothing but the necessities. I may have much to teach this buttoned-down detective about how to enjoy the finer things of life. You take my coat, and I remove my tie and playfully snap it at you.

“Tonight is easy, William, just play-wrestling. I think we both know how we’d like this evening to go.” I unbutton my shirt, one by one, a strip-tease for you, before I pull it off my arms and toss it to the side. I begin to unbutton my trousers and drop them, exposing my engorging bulge and my flexed quads.

Detective William Banks:
I watch you intensely as you begin to strip down, and the whole thing has my heart racing. As you pull your shirt off I start to slow down with my undressing. Seeing you unbutton your trousers ready to drop trou in front of me, I’m struggling to even pull off my shirt. I know you’ve seen me without it plenty at the hospital, but there is still a bit of shame in it for me, not just the disfigurement, but also the other actions against that came with it, and the disgrace of being on the receiving end of such an assault. It’s hard for a man to be put in such a position and not have scars that run deeper than just some flesh wounds.

I swallow my pride knowing what you are expecting of me, and so I think of my pa telling me to man up. I unbutton the shirt and pull it off, tossing it over on the kitchen table. There I stand in front of you, the scar on full display, a nasty V shape running from my tits to my navel. I don’t know if it is a symbol, a letter, or just some sick feral marking on me from a predator. Try not to think about it too much as I keep my eyes on you stripping down, your manhood visible behind your slacks and clearly aroused. I unbutton my own trousers now, dropping them with far less concern than that of my shirt, ready to meet you in the middle of my floor like it's Madison Square Garden.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
I kick off my shoes and step out of my trousers, in just my bulging briefs. I see your discomfort, your struggle of desire and self-consciousness. I want to wrestle you - and more - but it can’t happen this way. As I step out of my slacks, I push forward for a gentle tackle to your bed. We bounce as we fall, me on top of yours. I crane down to kiss your lips then lower myself, my tongue at your scarred left nipple. I lick it, kiss it, suck it, then trace my tongue down the left leg of the V. Halfway down I look up, “Some of us wear our scars on the outside, some of us on the inside.”

Detective William Banks:
With both of us in our briefs, you move forward in what I think would be a collar and elbow lockup, but instead you push me to my bed coming down on me. To be honest I feel a lot better about that because as much as I want to wrestle you, it just doesn't feel right at the moment, plus it could split open the scar tissue. No way in Hell am I going back to the hospital. You start licking my chest, seeming to love my hairy chest, but then you start to trace the scar. You say your words and I stroke your hair. “Some scars are harder to bear than others.” It might seem like I’m talking about the physical ones here, but a lot more was harmed to me that night than just my perfect chest that I was so proud of. I hold you there for a moment while you feel it, lick, and whatever else, a quietness coming over me. I push you aside for a moment, “Going to get the lights.”

I rise from the bed and move over to the dresser to dig out one of the candles I normally light before bed. Slip over to the kitchen and turn off the main light after lighting. I come back to the bed ready to make love to you for the first time, the soft candle light being the only thing to light the occasion.

You are not logged in. - William with Candle

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
I watch you as you return to the bedroom holding a candle. The soft glint of the flame’s light on your body is so beautiful, so seductive, that I catch my breath. That said, it also makes the forming scar tissue on your superb torso more noticeable, almost as if I can see the “V” faintly glowing in the darkness of the room. I wait, watching patiently, as if I could look at you like this for hours on end.

You put the candle down on the nightstand as I hold out my hand, beckoning you to join me. I take it softly, pulling you down on top of me this time, thinking you will be more comfortable without my weight on top of you. I cup the back of your head with my other hand, pulling our lips together, parting slightly as our mouths press more deeply into each other. A nibble on the lip, my tongue flicking in a bit, as my hands strokes you. I’ve wanted you like this since we met and it took the vicious assault to finally bring us together. I sigh as I enjoy your muscular body pressing down on my chest and abs.

Detective William Banks:
I come back holding the candle, looking like something out of a campfire story. With those new motion films they are making, maybe someday they might make something like. Who knows? Regardless, I put the candle down and join you in our embrace. I’ve been craving for so long. So amped up by the rousing match of my personal idol, I’m feeling rather dominant, plus I've been cooped up in that hospital. I Hunger for action and I want to give it right now. Not knowing which position you normally take, I lean into it to see if you object.
I come down towards you in between your thighs, your member sliding up right against my abs and navel as we kiss. Stroking my hair and holding my head, you can feel just how hard my manhood is. Was always proud of its size though I rarely had a chance to compare it with others, I see though that you have beat there. You’ve seen it in passing at the hospital, felt it with your own hand before, but now you feel it against the curves of your rump, my hand reaching down to pull back my foreskin. I pull away from the kiss, coming up on my knees, my full frontside on display with the scar front and center. Eyes locked with you and make the presumption tonight hoping it doesn’t cause a conflict

You are not logged in. - William Banks

I reach down grabbing your calves and move them over my strong shoulders, a warm smile on my face. There is no echo of trauma in my face, just a desire to share myself with you the best way I know how. “Let me go first, Fernand.” Perhaps this is another test for our relationship if it really is to blossom. I am fine with trading positions, but I need some control in this aspect, and so I kneel there on my bed ready to enter you, stopping just shy as I await your permission.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
We make love, feeling each other’s body, finally gratifying the mutual craving we’ve been feeling. Stroking one another’s hair, my fingertips brushing your skin. Tongues flicking, lips touching then pressing. Both our cocks are hard, very close in size, the head of mine emerging from its foreskin sheath. I shouldn’t feel the need to compare but I am proud of my endowment. You back away, up to your knees, putting the scar on full display. I don’t feel it’s a test as much as seeking reassurance, and I lick my forefingers, running one down each side of the V until they meet at your navel. I continue to pull my fingers down your treasure trail to feel your engorged cock.

You pull my legs up over your shoulder, signalling your desire to mount me. I return your smile as you request my permission. After what you’ve gone through, I am not surprised that you need to express your dominance, your proof of manliness. And I am more than happy to submit to your needs. Still smiling, I nod and whisper, “Take me, William, I look forward to you making me yours.” I reach up to play with your nipples as you prepare to enter me.

Detective William Banks:
As we play with one another before doing the deed, I can’t help but to notice how handsome you are in the candlelight. I’ve been quiet about it up until now, but I’ve wanted you ever since you started coming to meet me at the Hospital. While it was a work based obligation at first, I could tell you were there for more than just to give me reports on the case. Tonight with dinner and then the show, it really proves to me that there is something between us, and that is what I plan to explore at this moment.

You raise your legs for me and I happily take them over my broad shoulders, this not the first time I’ve used them like this of course, but it really showcases just the level of work I’ve put into my body with hopes of someday becoming a wrestler. I stare you in the eyes as I ready to do the deed, hear you whisper to me the words, permission for me to enter. “I don’t want to take you Fernand… I want to give.” My only response before I reach down pulling back my own foreskin, then sliding my manhood into you. I do it slowly, softly, the gentle nature you’ve come to know reflected in the action. I push in inch after inch watching your face for any sign of discomfort until finally I am firmly planted in you now to my roots.

As you play with my scar, I make no response to it, trying to push the damn thing from my mind. It’s easy enough with the pleasure starting to flood me now, and so I pull back with my hips, never pulling out of you, and thrust. The strength of my legs shows as my old bed rocks back and forth. Normally I might be concerned about a neighbor hearing me make so much noise, but not tonight, tonight is for you and me alone. Thrust more and more I start to moan as I build up a sweat, eyes focused on you like you are the only thing in the world that matters; because at this moment to me, you are.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
I feel the head of your cock tagging the rosebud of my hole, as you tell me the gift you intend to give me. You’re slow, gentle, as you begin to spread me, sliding inside. It has not been so long since I’ve been in this position but I wince for a moment as you enter. I sigh as my body relaxes into you, my chute loosening as it invites you in. I move my hands to grip your strong shoulders, kneading the muscles with my fingers. You slide deeper, filling me until your hips are pressed to my buttcheeks. I see you reading my body, making sure I am feeling this as you do. I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted to be under you, I’ve wanted to be over you, and now it all comes to pass.

You begin to pick up the pace, your passion building. Mine builds in return as I groan with pleasure. My skin glistens as I begin to buck my ass back onto your thrusting cock, feeling you deep inside me. I begin to feel the energy of our union building, becoming more aggressive as I fantasize what sex after wrestling one another would be like. My muscles flexing as our bodies match each other’s rhythm, wondering what we would be like as a …. I begin to get ahead of myself, wishing we could be together like this every night.

Detective William Banks:
As I continue the dance, I see that look on your face as thoughts wander through your head, and I can’t help but to wonder what you might be thinking. I hope it is something similar to me, thoughts of a future, trips through europe where you could properly educate me on how to use all those fancy spoons. I have to pause, because I don’t want to get ahead of myself, instead stay in the moment. Just then I reach that point in the dance when you can’t turn back, when the lust completely overwhelms a man’s need to finish the activity. I let out a moan, deep, accompanied breathing that reflected in our union. My right hand comes up to your hair to stroke it, my left on your chest, and so I make sure that we are staring at each other for the moment ahead.

While I’m doing this, I realized I’ve ignored your manhood, and that might be careless on my end. My right hand slides down your body making only a slight detour to your left pec then down to take hold of it. I give you some pleasure with my hand, hoping to flood you more with the sensation, but not enough to push you toward climax, as I’m sure you want a turn with me soon enough. It’s clear I’m on edge now, sweating from the act as the candlelight flickers on our skin, me enjoying every moment not wanting this to end.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
Our fucking has been climbing to a fever pitch with every minute. Our bodies have found the choreography of lovemaking from the first and my body has begun to vibrate, the sweat becoming profuse. I utter your name, the sound guttural and deep, as I feel us moving closer into perfect synch. Your head of your dick is hitting my place of joy as you thrust in and massaging it as you pull back. When you reach down to attend to my own manhood, it flexes and throbs in your grasp.

My back arches under you, pulling you even deeper inside me. “William….” I whisper, “I can tell you are close.” I pant, my voice strained as I try to hold back my own climax. “I am as well, let us finish together…..” My eyes lock on yours as I flex my rectal muscles to bring you over the edge and my manhood in your hand throbs again, leaking heavily onto your fingers.

Detective William Banks:
I linger with each thrust now, hoping to bring you as much joy as I can with each thrust into your prostate. As I do I see that look in your eyes realizing that at this rate you will also finish the activity and I worry about you not getting a turn. Then I realize the night is still young. It’s then that you whisper my name, seeing how close I am, but telling me to finish together with you. I give a nod with another moan, this one loud enough that surely the neighbor could hear. Another thrust forward and a perfectly time stroke from my hand, then another as your flexed muscles drive me over. “Fern.. Fernand…” I say aloud in my low raspy voice as I now flow into you almost like a river. My breathing deepens as the trusting slows, my hand becomes slick with your own liquids. My eyes dilate while the act happens, the path into my soul filled with thoughts of our mutual happiness.

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
My whispered plea pushes you over the edge. I feel your thrust, accompanied by a loud moan, followed by you growling my name. Another throb inside me, then one more, as your load explodes deep inside me. As the floodgates open, you hit my spot and I clench on your cock as my body rocks, my back arching higher, and a geyser of my seed drenches not just your hand but your chest, splashing down on my own muscular abs. I howl your name, “WILLIAM!”, not thinking of the neighbors at all. My eyes roll back as my mind goes blank with le Petit Mort. The tremors of my orgasm cause my body to spasm and vibrate under you, slowly subsiding as my load is drained. I wrap my arms behind you and pull down on top of me, holding our sweaty, cum-drenched bodies heaving together as we try to catch our breath.

Detective William Banks:
As your seed splashes on me from your own orgasm, I can’t help but let out a light laugh through the moaning and heavy breathing. “Oh Fernand… that was… majestic…” Your hands pull me down on top of you and I’m more than happy to embrace, I pull my manhood out of you now to avoid any discomfort. Laying there on my creaky old bed, my gaze turns to that of the candle with a bit of a smile on my face. “Moments like this make me happy that the Wolf came here, Fernand.” I say solemnly, perhaps the only time I’ve ever spoken positively about the creature. It will likely be the only time. Even in moments of tragedy, it’s important to find the instances of good that can be found if only one looks hard enough. Staring at the flickering candle I smile again, “Should I blow it out, or would you like a turn?”

Inspector Fernand Laurent:
We hold one another for a few minutes, appreciating the mess our bodies have created in our inevitable union. I am shocked when you say the Wolf’s rampage and its attack on you had one positive outcome and it shows me that you feel the same about me as I feel about you. I nuzzle your cheek with my face as you offer to trade places. I give you my lopsided grin, kiss your forehead, and say, “Give me half an hour, mon amour.”

Published: 2021-12-10, viewed 103 times.