Pushy Little Bottoms

Table of Contents

Whatever You Want by Taylor Lochland - 2

A Running Start by BA Collins - 14

What it Takes by Jodi Payne - 31

Contributors - 40

A Torquere Press Taste Test - 1

Whatever You Want

By Taylor Lochland

Working a mostly brainless job can be dangerous when all you can think about is sex. As I sort boxes at the warehouse, I keep imagining what it would be like if my partner bent me over a table and fucked me from behind. Fortunately, my co-workers are too busy with their own boxes and thoughts to notice my jeans getting tight. I’ve been living with Connor for almost a year now, and we’ve been dating for twice that. He’s kind, smart, and I know he loves me more than anything. He makes decent money at his job as a pharmacist, and he’s fucking hot with his toned body and classic movie star face. You’d almost expect to see him in an underwear ad. In bed, he’s gentle, romantic, and sweet. He’s everything a guy could want. He even cooks. Problem is… I’m bored out of my mind. Not with him personally. I’m absolutely crazy about him. Otherwise, I would have moved on already. What’s boring is the sex. Don’t get me wrong -- the lovey-dovey stuff is nice sometimes. However, when that’s all there is, things get stale. Even our routine is predictable. We get home from work, we eat dinner, we watch a little TV, we have sex. It’s almost always regular anal intercourse in basic missionary style. We rarely even do oral. Right now I’d be happy with anything different from our usual, but what I really want is for him to fuck me so hard my eyes water. I do my best to shake my fantasies from my mind while I’m trying to work. It’s starting to get uncomfortable. Thinking about my real sex life instead does the trick. By the time lunch rolls around, my arousal has been replaced by frustration. I enter the break room and my friend Paul waves at me from a table on the far side of the room. “Boyfriend trouble?” he asks as soon as I sit down. “Is it that obvious?” “It’s obvious something’s on your mind. I just guessed it was about Connor.” He unwraps his sandwich and takes a bite. “Though I can’t imagine Mr. Perfect doing anything to upset you.” “He didn’t. It’s just…” I lower my voice so only Paul can hear. “The sex. He always treats me like he thinks I’m gonna break, and frankly, I’m getting tired of it.” “Well, maybe if you lifted weights and trimmed that mop of yours, he’d remember you’re a guy.” “Ha-ha. My hair’s not that long.” I push my bangs back off my face. My inability to put on much muscle has always been a sore spot with me, but I ignore the jab. “Anyway, I want something different, but I’m not sure how to bring it up without shocking him or making him feel inadequate.”

A Torquere Press Taste Test - 2

“Yeah.” He nods. “He does seem the type to take something like that the wrong way.” He sips at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Well, when I want to get a little wild with Christie, I watch a porno with her.” “She likes that?” I don’t know Paul’s girlfriend that well, but she’s always seemed the prudish type. “Yeah, once in awhile.” He picks up a potato chip and points it at me. “And if you tell her I told you that, I’ll have your balls.” “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.” I take the chip and pop it in my mouth. “So that works, huh?” “Usually. I’d loan you something, but you probably don’t like the same type of porn I do.” I laugh. “You’re probably right about that. I’ll just stop at the adult store on the way home.” “Good. You might want to pick up some handcuffs too. That way, if the DVD doesn’t work, you can cuff him and have your way with him.” My lips curl into a grin. “Good idea.” I’d rather be the one handcuffed, but I keep that to myself. *** I look at the DVD in my hand and snicker at the title. “Yours, Body and Hole.” The shop employee nods, laughing as well. “Gotta love those titles. Anyway, it’s about a guy who can’t think of what to get his lover for his birthday, so he offers to be his sex slave for a weekend. It’s pretty kinky. Is that something like what you’re looking for?” “Close enough.” I’m not looking to be a sex slave. I just want the kink. I’m not worried about Connor getting the wrong idea though. It’s going to be hard enough getting him to pick up a hint at all. I move on to the BDSM section of the store where the salesman helps me pick out a set of handcuffs padded with black fake fur -- no way in hell I’m buying the pink ones -- and a small beginner’s flogger made of extra-soft suede. The kind that tickles more than it stings. As I carry the bag with my purchases to my car, my heart starts beating faster. Tonight’s going to be fun. When I get home, I drop the bag off in the living room and head straight into the kitchen. Dinner is ready and on the table, as I figured it might be. Connor’s food is untouched, since he’s one of those old-fashioned types who thinks it’s rude for one person to eat before everybody’s seated. He looks up from his newspaper when I enter the room. “Oh, there you are. I was starting to get a little worried.”

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“Sorry.” I sheepishly run a hand through my hair. “I did some shopping. I guess I should have called to let you know.” He folds the paper and puts it aside. “It’s okay.” I think I see a flicker of annoyance in his face, but it’s gone quickly. He pours me a glass of wine and scoops some chicken alfredo onto my plate. “The important thing is that you got home safe.” “Yeah, I guess.” I quickly take a bite of my food, knowing he’ll just sit there and starve until I do so. He picks up his fork, but he doesn’t dig in right away. Instead, he watches me until I swallow my first bite. “How is it?” “It’s superb, as usual.” “Oh, good. It’s a new recipe, so I wasn’t sure.” He smiles and finally starts eating. I return the smile and roll my eyes. “Anything you cook is amazing.” It’s the truth. The man has a way with food. On our first date, instead of going out for dinner, he cooked the most incredible beef tenderloin I’d ever had. It was one of the things that endeared him to me. “Thank you. It’s so much more satisfying to share my cooking with the person I love.” At least once a day, he has to say something that makes me want to melt and puke at the same time. “Quit being so sappy. I’m trying to eat here.” I shake my head and take a sip of wine. He laughs and sips at his own drink, looking at me over the rim of his glass. “You know I say things like that just to watch your reaction. Even though I mean every word.” “I know on both counts.” I consider showing him the things I brought home, to see his reaction, but he’d probably end up choking on his food. That would put a damper on the evening, so I decide to wait until we’re done eating. Thinking about it is distracting me from enjoying my meal, but that’s okay. I’m planning to enjoy what will hopefully come after. I take care of the dirty dishes while Connor sits at the table and finishes reading the newspaper. That’s the drill -- he cooks, I clean up. I barely manage to hide my grin as I work. I’m a little nervous about what he’s going to say or do when he finds out what I brought home, but I’m excited too. I put the last pan in the dishwasher and turn to him. “Aren’t you going to ask what I went shopping for?” “Oh, sorry. I forgot.” He shrugs and puts the paper down. “Okay, what did you go shopping for?”

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“I’ll show you.” I go get the DVD. I’ll bring out the toys later. I quickly return to the kitchen and plop myself down in Connor’s lap, holding up the move to show him. “I brought something home for us to watch.” He looks at it, shakes his head, and laughs. “Since when do we need something like that to get us

in the mood?”

“Oh, I thought it might make things a little more interesting.”

“All I need to make it interesting is you.”

I roll my eyes. “What did I tell you about that sappy shit? Anyway, it’s just for fun, so let’s

check it out.”

“If you want to.”

“That’s why I brought it home.” I get back to my feet, take his hand, and lead him to the living

room. Once the DVD is in the player, we settle on the couch, making ourselves comfortable

against each other.

“I can’t believe you want to watch porn.” He chuckles and nuzzles my hair as I start the movie.

“There’s nothing wrong with a little smut now and then.” I take one of his arms and pull on it,

draping it over my shoulders.

The movie’s cheesy like most pornos, but it still has much for me to like. The top shows his

dominance by pinning his partner against the wall, forcefully bending him over the kitchen table,

and eventually tying him up -- much to the bottom’s delight, I might add. I squirm around

uncomfortably from my aroused state and squeeze Connor’s hand during the kinkiest scenes,

hoping he’ll take the hint.

“That was… interesting,” he says when it’s over, and I can tell from the look on his face that

he’s not quite sure what to think about it. “Why’d you pick out something like that?”

“The guy at the store recommended it. Anyway, that’s not all I got. Wanna see the rest?”

“I suppose.” He doesn’t look very sure, and I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling.

“Good.” I lean over the edge of the sofa and pick the bag up off the floor. “Just a couple of toys,”

I say as I drop it into his lap.

He looks inside and his eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, um…for us?” He takes out the box with the

handcuffs and turns it over in his hands.

“Of course it’s for us. I wouldn’t buy something like that for anybody else.”

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After a moment, he puts it back in the bag and runs a hand through his hair. “Why did you feel

the need to get this stuff? Is there something wrong with our lovemaking?”

“Connor…” I take the flogger out of the bag and touch the soft material to the back of his hand

as I give it to him. “Nothing’s specifically wrong, but I thought we could use some excitement.”

He silently stares at the flogger and the bag for a moment before speaking again. “I guess we have been stuck in a rut, haven’t we?” He turns his head to kiss my cheek. “Sorry about that.” “Don’t apologize. Let’s just do something about it.”

“Sure. Did you want to… switch positions?” Even though he made the suggestion himself, he

looks apprehensive about the idea.

I think about it for a few seconds, but shake my head. I enjoy having him inside me too much.

“That would definitely be a change, but I’d rather have you use the toys on me.”

“Ah, okay. If that’s what you want.” He puts the flogger back in the bag with the handcuffs.

“I’ve never used any of this stuff before.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you what to do. Think you can follow my instructions?”

“Of course.” I can see he’s getting nervous, but tonight, he’s fucking me the way I want it.

“Start off simple.” I stand up. “Kiss me and pin me against the wall.”

“You want to do it right now?”

“Sure.” I’ve been waiting too long already. “Now.”

He rises to his feet and puts the bag aside on the end table. After taking a deep breath, he puts his

hands on my shoulders and kisses me. He backs me against the wall, but he does it so gently that

I may as well have casually leaned against it myself. “Like that?” he asks.

“Not quite.” I try to hide my frustration. “Remember that scene in the movie?”

He nods, but still looks unsure. “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

“Don’t worry about hurting me. Sometimes that’s the point.” I take one of his hands and guide it

to my chest. “I’m not talking about serious injuries of course, but a little bit of rough handling

can be fun.” I put my fingers over his and use them to pinch one of my nipples through my shirt.

I close my eyes and tilt my head back as I squeeze. After a moment, I let go and open my eyes.

“Try that.”

He tentatively moves his hand to my other nipple and pinches, but it’s so gentle I can barely feel it.

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“Harder.”

He increases the pressure, but only a little.

This is going to take more work than I expected. “Harder!”

Finally, the squeeze becomes an actual pinch. I can tell he’s still holding back some, but at least

it’s progress. “Mmm…better.” I find one of his nipples and do the same. “Doesn’t that feel

good?”

He jerks away and lets go of me. “No, not really.”

“Well, it’s not for everybody.” I unbutton his shirt and push the fabric aside to expose his chest.

His injured nipple is a little red, and I can’t resist bending over and kissing it. My lips linger just

long enough to make it harden. “That’s more to your liking, isn’t it?”

“Yes, thank you.” Connor puts a hand in my hair and strokes the side of my head with his thumb.

“I just figured you’d like the same things I do.”

“Oh, I do like them, but I like variety.” I hold my arms up. “Now, strip me.”

“My pleasure.” He smiles as he pulls my shirt off over my head and tosses it on the floor.

I knew he wouldn’t have a problem with that. He unbuttons my jeans and goes for the zipper, but

I put my hands over his to stop him. “Use your teeth.”

“I’ll try.” He drops to his knees and takes the zipper pull between his teeth. It takes him a

moment to get the angle right, but he manages to do what I want, his hot breath washing over my

cock and making me shiver. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of my boxers and pulls them

down along with my jeans, then piles my clothing off to the side.

“Let’s try that pinning me to the wall thing again.” I move toward the center of the room,

wanting to give him plenty of space to work with.

He takes a deep breath, puts his hands on my bare shoulders, and pushes me hard. My back hits

the wall with enough force to knock the pictures on the wall off center.

“That wasn’t too hard, was it?” he asks.

“It was absolutely perfect. Now, try to remember something else you saw in the movie.” I wrap

my arms around his shoulders and kiss him passionately, my tongue darting past his lips.

As we kiss, he reaches back to take hold of my wrists. Grasping them firmly, he presses them

against the wall over my head as he presses his body against mine.

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“Mmm…” I sigh into his mouth, letting him control the rest of the kiss. He breaks away when we’re both breathless. “How was that?” I smile at him and press my groin against his thigh. “What does it feel like?” “Something tells me you liked it.” His cheeks flush a bit and he kisses me again. He slowly moves my wrists together so that he can hold both of them with one hand, freeing his other one. It would be easy for me to break his grip, but I don’t want to, so I don’t. He slides his free hand down the front of my body, all the way to my crotch, giving my nipples each a good pinch along the way. I moan softly to let him know he’s getting the hang of it; then he breaks the kiss and leans over just enough to suck on one of my nipples. I let him do it for a moment before opening my mouth to speak. “Bite it.” He looks up at me as if to confirm what he heard. I nod. “Bite it,” I repeat. After hesitating a moment, Connor takes the nub back into his mouth and bites down, harder than I expect him to. When I cry out in a mix of pleasure and surprise, he lets go of both my nipple and my wrists and examines the damage. “I’m sorry.” I glance down and see the tooth marks. “Don’t apologize. No broken skin.” I touch his face. “I just wasn’t expecting you to bite so hard at first. Trust me, I’m not complaining.” I turn my gaze to the other side of my chest. “The other one’s jealous, by the way.” He smiles in relief and bites my other nipple, almost as hard as he bit the first one. My breath comes in sharply through my nose. “Excellent.” I put my hands on both sides of his face and pull him up to press my lips to his again. He kisses me back and affectionately massages my cock for a second before letting go. “What do you want me to do now?” “Why don’t you get the handcuffs?” He looks doubtful as he takes them out and tests the padding with his finger. “Are you sure about this, Max?” “Yes, I’m sure. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have spent the money on them. You can secure my arms while keeping your own hands free for other important duties. So…” I turn around and put my hands behind my back. “Cuff me, damn it.”

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“All right then.” He snaps them around my wrists, and I can tell he’s being careful not to close them too tight. It’s okay; they’re still tight enough to keep my hands in place. “Don’t lose the key,” I say with a smirk. They have a quick-release button, but I’m not going to tell him that unless I have to. I’d rather he not use it. He takes the key out of the box and puts it in his pocket, then looks at me with a hint of a smirk on his lips. “I don’t know if I like you being unable to use your hands.” “My mouth’s still available.” I press my lips to his neck and suck gently to emphasize my point, loving the way it makes him squirm. Connor puts up with it for a minute before putting his hands on my shoulders and nudging me away. “We should move to the bedroom.” “Nah. Let’s do everything here.” “Here? But what if somebody comes to the door while we’re… doing it? They might hear us.” “Jesus, Connor. Don’t worry about shit like that. If somebody knocks on the door, we’ll quiet down for a minute.” After a moment passes, he nods. “All right.” He looks at me and shakes his head. “All the time we’ve been together, I never knew you had such a kinky side.” “Hmm… it was wrong of me to keep something like that from you, wasn’t it?” My lips curve into a sly grin. “I should be punished.” I take the flogger out of the bag with my teeth and present it to him. He takes it and runs his fingers through it, closely examining the suede. “I don’t think I want to hit you, Max.” “Test it on your arm if you’re not sure. It’s designed for beginners, so it won’t hurt me. It’s the softest one they make. If you put a lot of force into it, it might sting, but only a little.” I watch as he slaps himself with it several times, testing out different amounts of force. “I guess it’s not too bad.” He finally looks up at me again. “Okay. If it’s what you want.” “I do.” I stand near the wall with my back to him. I’ve actually never done this before, but I’ve always been curious. My heart beats several times while I wait for the first slap. What I finally get is more like a tickle. I look at him over my shoulder. “Is that all you got?” He hits my bare ass again, putting more force behind it. The flogger whistles as it whips through the air and makes a satisfying smack against my skin. I still wouldn’t call it pain, but at least the sensation lingers for a few seconds.

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“Mmm... that’s more like it.” I wait, but the next slap doesn’t come. “Well?” I feel his fingers gently brush my skin. “It got a little red.” “That’s sort of the idea.” I smile back at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you if it gets to be too much. Just keep going until I tell you to stop.” I have to admit that the way he’s touching the area feels nice too, so I add, “Though, I won’t complain if you pause every so often to rub it, like you are right now.” I feel him give my ass an affectionate pat before giving me another whack. It doesn’t take long for him to get a pattern going -- three whacks followed by a few seconds of caresses. There’s no pain except for an occasional light sting. The whip is too soft for anything beyond that. Besides, I don’t think Connor’s putting his full strength behind it, but it’s fine the way it is. For now. After a few minutes, he stops and I turn around to see him shaking his head. “Don’t you think this is weird?” he asks. “No it isn’t. As you already discovered tonight, I have a kinky side. It feels good, so one more round, please.” I turn my back to him once more. A few seconds pass. “Do it, Connor,” I say more forcefully. He obeys and flogs me four times, breaking his pattern. My ass tingles, and I feel the suede lightly brush across my shoulders and back. “I’d prefer to use this as a tickling device,” he whispers in my ear. “Next time.” I grin at him, glad he’s at least thinking of something outside of our usual routine. “For now, let’s move on.” I turn to face him and trail my tongue down the front of his body, stopping when I reach the waistband of his pants. His skin is salty with sweat, so he must have exerted himself more than I thought. I just hope he didn’t use up all of his energy, because I’m not done with him yet. I straighten again and nuzzle his ear. When I feel his fingers in my hair, I suck on his earlobe, eliciting a gasp from his lips. If he wasn’t turned on before, I know he is now. I swear the man has the most sensitive earlobes on the planet. “Why don’t you take your pants off and make yourself more comfortable?” I say the words directly into his ear, making sure to breathe hard as I pull away. I watch while he does as I requested. I may have been bored with our standard lovemaking, but I never get bored of looking at his well-toned legs and ass. When he turns to face me, I see his cock is fully erect, as anticipated. “You deserve a reward for being so accommodating.” I get down on my knees in front of him and take the hard flesh into my mouth. With my hands behind my back, there’s only so much I can do, but that’s okay. I don’t want him to come yet anyway. I suck lightly and pull back until only the head is still between my lips.

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“Max…” he says with a gasp and tangles his fingers in my hair. I’m pleasantly surprised when he thrusts. I guess he finally figured out that I’m not made out of glass. I suck harder and let him thrust a few more times before I pull away completely, running my tongue along the underside of his shaft as I do so. “It’s time for you to fuck me.” I give the tip a final kiss and get back to my feet. Connor looks at me with half-closed eyes and nods. “Thank God.” I don’t object when he leaves the room and returns a moment later with the lube. I may want it rougher than usual, but I don’t want any injuries. “Where do you want to do it?” he asks as he opens the bottle and squeezes some lube out onto his fingers. “Bend me over the arm of the sofa.” He nods, puts his dry hand on my shoulder, and steers me to the sofa. He bends my body to almost a ninety-degree angle and pushes me into my desired position. I have to stand on the balls of my feet, which makes the position a bit uncomfortable, but I’ll deal with it. I gasp softly when he shoves his fingers inside me with more force than usual. I’m not complaining though. He touches my prostate, making my legs shake a little, but the touch lasts only a second before he pulls his fingers out. Without asking if I’m ready -- which is highly unusual for him -- he penetrates me with his cock and immediately starts to thrust. Hard and fast. “Co-Connor...” I say, breathing hard. He slows down. “Is it what you wanted?” “Ye-yeah. It’s good. Keep it up.” “Okay.” He picks up the pace again, and I feel his fingers brush the back of my neck and trail down my spine until he reaches my bound hands. His nails lightly run over my sweaty palms and he gives both hands a gentle squeeze before caressing my hips and sides. Leave it to Connor to figure out a way to be affectionate while he’s being rough. Eventually, one of his hands makes it to my erection and starts to pump. I try to rock my body to assist him, but it makes my calves hurt after a minute, so I give up and let him do the work. He’s doing just fine anyway. I love the way his body slams into mine, making the sound of skin slapping against skin. The sofa arm digs into my stomach, and I can tell I’m going to have a fabric burn by the time we’re done. I don’t care though. It might be nice to have a souvenir. I bury my face in the cushion to muffle my cries, as we’re close to the window and I’m being louder than usual. How can I not be? The experience is exciting the hell out of me -- partially from the pure kinkiness of the act, and partially because Connor put his own comfortable wants aside to please me. Of course, the way his cock is striking my prostate from this angle also has something to do with it. I usually clutch the sheets when I’m close to finishing, so my fingers automatically curl over the empty air. Connor must notice, because he puts his free hand in one of mine to give me

A Torquere Press Taste Test - 11

something to hold onto. He gently squeezes both it and my cock, bringing me over the edge as I moan loudly, my whole body trembling. Connor waits for me to finish before moving his hands to my hips. He grips them and pulls me back against him, thrusting even harder. “Max…” he says with a gasp as he climaxes, filling me with his fluid. It takes him a minute to catch his breath. Once he does, he pulls out and helps me stand up. “Okay, that was good.” “No shit.” My legs are still a little weak, so I lean against the sofa to steady myself. He’s still breathing heavy as he picks his pants up off the floor and fishes the key to the handcuffs out of his pocket. I wait for him to release my hands, but he just stands there looking at me, jingling the key between his fingers. “You can take off the cuffs now.” His lips slowly curve into a smile. “I don’t know. Now that I’m getting a good look, I think I like you like this.” I return the smile with one of my own. “Good, so you won’t object the next time I want us to use them. But right now, my arms are starting to go numb, so please take them off me.” “As m’Lord commands.” He turns me around, removes the handcuffs from my wrists, and sets them down on the end table. I shake my arms out and collapse on the sofa. “Thanks for doing all that.” I mean it in all sincerity. He did everything I asked him to, and the results were pretty damn amazing. God, I love him so much right now. Connor sits down next to me and picks up my arm, giving it a massage to get the blood flowing again. “You’re welcome.” He leans over to take care of my other arm. “How long have you wanted to do that?” “Oh, awhile.” He finishes with my arms and pulls me back against him, hugging me from behind. “Then you should have said something sooner. You know I’d do just about anything for you. Sexual or otherwise.” “I know, but I worried about how you’d react. You did seem a little nervous more than once tonight.” “Yeah, but I got over it.” He nuzzled the back of my neck. “No more secrets, okay? I want to be able to make you happy. That’s the most important thing in the world to me.”

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There he is again, my sappy Connor. “Now that I know you’re willing, I don’t think keeping

secrets will be an issue.”

“Good.” After a brief pause, he adds, “You know, you made a mess on the couch.”

“I’ll clean it up later.” I settle into his arms. “Are you going to punish me for it?”

He chuckles and trails a finger down the side of my face and across my lips. “Whatever you

want.”

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A Running Start

By BA Collins

"Watch the fag run!" someone yelled. Jason ran, all right. Twenty drunken rednecks would make anybody run. I never should have cut by Porkie's tonight, I know better! They'd spotted him and decided the fact that he had a couple facial piercings and earrings meant he was gay. The fact that he was just made it worse. They'd started by making fun of that, and someone had grabbed his backpack and found his massage notebook. That was the kiss of death. He'd evaded a couple of punches and ducked out into an alley. They'd followed. He hadn't really expected that. "Get the little gook!" Someone had cut across a street, and Jason had only one way to go, right past the back of the biker bar. Fuck. They weren't any better. His dad was right. Pity he wouldn't live to tell him so. He should never have moved out of Boston. Even gay, being in a Chinese neighborhood was safer. Jason dodged between parked motorcycles, praying nobody was out there, watching them as bikers usually did. "Hey!" Somebody stood up against the streetlight. He wasn't lucky, or nobody was listening to his prayers. Big, leathers, patches on his vest. Not someone who'd help. "Sorry! Just cutting through!" Jason dodged away from that angry voice and down the driveway onto Elm Street. Maybe he'd find a cop there that would turn away the assholes. A crash behind him told Jason some idiot had knocked over a motorcycle or two. Good. They'd go after the idiots. Maybe thin the herd a bit. For drunks, they sure had good wind. He'd thought he would lose them in about a block. Elm Street was deserted. Great. The one night he could be lost in a crowd happily and it looked like the bomb had hit and nobody was left in the whole fucking Queen City. Jason pelted uptown. The police station was only three blocks away, across the park; they'd have to help him. A motor roared behind him. Someone was following on motorcycle. He couldn't outrun that. Jason turned to look. Some of the drunks had made it out onto Elm Street and were pointing his way, The biker came up alongside him as he hesitated. A big guy, maybe the same one, bald, with a bushy mustache, he was nearly as tall as Jason sitting down. "What the fuck's going on, kid?" Jason bit his lip. Being short might be useful for once. "They're chasing me because they think I'm queer." "Oh, for fuck's sake," the biker growled. He pulled aside and parked his Harley. He could leave. He could have even offered Jason a ride. No. He was going to stand up to a dozen drunken rednecks for someone he didn't even know. "Get behind me, kid." He shoved Jason that way when he didn't move.

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"Who the fuck are you?" The first redneck arrived, panting and red-faced. "Donald Jones. What the fuck do you care?" The biker snapped. "If you know what's good for you, you'll go collect your buddies back behind the bar, what's left of them, and go the fuck home." He bristled at the idiot. More drunks arrived and loudly demanded in out-of-breath voices to know why they weren't jumping the little gook; that biker must be queer too. The first guy was staring up at Jason's protector in worry. Maybe he was less drunk and saw the gang logo on Donald's vest. Maybe he just was scared of how far up he had to look. The guy was huge, more than six feet tall. "Uh, I dunno." "You're smarter than them. I'll let you fucking live." Donald sneered at the guy. "Now beat it!" he roared at them. "Fuck you!" The second drunk swung. He ended up ten feet away in a heap. The first guy turned and ran. He really was smarter than his friends. They didn't get the chance. Donald didn't stop for a second thought; he piled into the idiots and sent them spinning. "Hey!" Jason saw someone lining up with a chunk of rebar on Donald's skull and kicked it out of his hand in a way that would have made his dad proud. Someone grabbed his arm and he twisted away and punched them. Seconds later, more motorcycles arrived. The drunks that were still standing ran, and got called pussies and wimps by the bikers. "You okay, kid? Donald asked, picking himself up off the pavement. He wasn't moving right. Either someone had punched him or he'd whacked himself on the curb or the light post. Jason stood up straight and tried not to wince. Somebody had grabbed him and ripped away one of his earrings. It stung like mad. "I'll live. Thanks." He managed a grin. He might not be better off, surrounded by white bikers. He could see at least one guy with a swastika pin on his vest. "Where were you going?" Donald asked. "Home." Jason answered uneasily. He wasn't at all sure he should tell them where. The other students in his building would be horrified if he dragged a biker gang to their doorstep. Hell, he'd be horrified! Donald raised an eyebrow and turned to his gang. "Ya could have either waited until I had them all down so I could say I whomped them all, or showed up earlier, peckerheads!" "Hey, we had to sort out the ones that didn't run!" a bald guy snorted. A groan behind Jason announced that some people didn't have the sense to stay unconscious.

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"Right. Give you a ride closer to home, kid?" Donald asked. "Get these fuckheads on their way before the cops come to join the party." He kicked the groaner. One biker was safer than a half dozen. Maybe. "That would be great." Jason smiled hopefully. The bikers started kicking and urging the rednecks to get the fuck back up and get out of their neighborhood. Donald got back on his Harley and jerked his head, indicating for Jason to get behind him. Jason gingerly climbed on. Harleys were a lot different than the scooters he'd ridden on before. The seat pushed him against the biker. "Hang on to my belt, kid." Donald revved the bike and rode away before Jason could have a second thought. The motor thrummed between his legs and he could feel how tight Donald's muscles were, even just holding onto his thick belt. They rode a few blocks before Donald actually asked where to go. "I can tell you're fucking scared, kid. Just give me a hint." "River Street, by the water tower." Jason said. That was vague enough. There were hundreds of apartments in the old mill building. Donald turned that way, his motorcycle almost turning before he did, as if it were a live thing he guided with his thoughts. Jason tried not to think about his build. All muscles; whatever he did for a living kept him hard. His ass was digging into Jason's thighs, and that wasn't bad either. Don't think that way. You're only safe because he thinks you're a kid. If he gets the idea you're hitting on him, he'll finish the job those rednecks started, Jason told himself. The biker winced as they went over some railroad tracks. "Fuck," he muttered. "Are you okay?" Jason asked automatically. "As you say, 'I'll live'" Donald snorted. "This close enough?" He pulled up by the big parking garage the apartments used. "It'll do. Thanks for rescuing me." Jason slid off. For a moment he caught an agonized expression on Don's face. "You're not okay." He ran a quick hand over the biker's shoulders. His left shoulder was so knotted up and spasmed that it might be dislocated. Donald shrugged and went pale. "Old injury flaring up. Hazard of the way of life," he said between gritted teeth.

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Jason hesitated. The guy had gone into a crowd of thugs for him. "I -- I'm studying massage therapy. I could probably do something for that." "You're not a kid." Donald looked at him again, much more consideringly. Jason shook his head. "I'm twenty-three." "Sorry, Chinese folks are kinda short, and I measure people by me." Spots of pink appeared on Donald's suntanned face. Jason didn't correct him. It didn't matter if he was half-white, people only saw his amber colored skin and the epicanthic folds around his eyes and their minds shunted him into 'Oriental' and stopped thinking about it. Chinese people saw the wave in his hair and that he had 'round' eyes and called him a half-breed. "You shouldn't be riding. You need to get that fixed before you go over too many more bumps." "How you gonna do that without me finding out where you live, man?" Donald glared. "I'm not. You saved my life. I guess I'll have to trust you." Jason winced. "I'm Jason Wong." "Don Jones." Donald nodded. "Where do I park?" "In the garage." Jason got on behind him and slid his key card into the slot at the gate. He'd never used it, as he had no car. School was within walking distance and there were buses to get home on. "Watch out for the speed bumps." *** At least his apartment was neat. Needing to do his internship and give free massages for several hundred hours had forced him to tidy the place up. The massage table was used and chipped and scratched, but clean. It took up most of the living room. Being two in the morning, nobody had seen them come in. He'd even redecorated. The naked guy pics had come down, except one arty one, which he'd balanced with a nude female study on the opposite wall. Don took it all in for a moment. "Oh, right, ain't there something about you have to do massages for free for a while?" he asked with a thoughtful frown. "Yes. Technically this one shouldn't count, since I did get something for it." Jason smiled as if he was calm and happy to have an outlaw biker in his living room. Don snorted. In decent light, Jason could see his age. He wasn't anywhere in his twenties or probably thirties. He'd shaved his head to cover how little of his own hair he had left on top, which was balanced out by the bushy reddish blond mustache and thick chest hair protruding from his ripped t-shirt.

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Since when am I into bears? Jason bit his lip. He wasn't. He shouldn't even think that way; it might get him killed. "So, I guess first you should take a shower to start relaxing. It'll hurt less when I try to work on your shoulder that way." He tried to sound professional. His voice sounded just a little squeaky in his own ears. "That sounds good." Don unzipped his leather jacket. "Don't raise your arms." Jason saw the wince. "Let me?" He didn't move to touch until Don nodded. Then Jason got him out of the jacket, heavy leather with a vest over it and a lot of stuff in the pockets, to judge by the weight. He hung it over his computer chair and turned. He hadn't noticed the shoulder rig, with a .45 semi tucked under Don's left armpit. Great. He'd let an armed outlaw biker into his place. Don pressed his lips together, making his mustache bristle. "It's legal, Jason. Got a permit and all." He pointed at the buckles, and Jason slowly put his hands up and loosened them. "Did I pull it when those idiots came my way?" he asked harshly. "No." Jason looked up in confusion. That was true. He could have stopped them without a punch thrown. Standing so close to Don was even more intimidating, especially getting a glare from those deep blue eyes. "If you start out pulling a piece, that raises the stakes way too high. Better to start with telling losers to take a walk." Don pulled the buckles out of Jason's hands and shrugged out of the shoulder rig himself. "You sound like my dad," Jason said involuntarily. His fingers were tingling where they'd touched. Those big hands could do more than punch and steer a motorcycle. "Then he's a smart guy." Don grinned as he put his shoulder rig down with his jacket. He looked down at the remnants of his 'Laconia Bike Week' tee shirt and sighed. "Fuckers. I liked this one." He ripped it the rest of the way down and pulled it off. Jason took his own denim jacket off. Fuck. His backpack was in pieces, stomped in a parking lot. "What?" Don was slowly unbuckling his engineer boots, but his blue eyes were alert. "Uh, nothing much. They got my backpack. Notebooks and a couple of hundred-dollar textbooks." Jason heaved a sigh. "Cheap lesson in not cutting behind redneck bars, I guess." "Nothing much my ass. How screwed are you?" Don said harshly, grabbing him by the upper arm. Jason felt his cheeks redden. "I can borrow books from classmates. The notebooks are worse. A whole semester of notes." "You came running from the back of Porkie's, right?" Don pulled a cell phone off his belt.

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"Yeah. Hey, no, it's okay!" Jason protested as Don opened it and dialed. Don waved him off with a glare that stopped Jason in his tracks. "Hey, Stoner. Yeah, it turns out that kid is in college and the fuckers got his backpack and notes." There was a pause. "Yeah, behind Porkies. Just take it to the club house. I'll collect it in the morning for him. Thanks." He snapped the cell phone shut. Jason took a step back, trying not to look terrified. His notebooks had little things like his own attempts at writing gay smut as well as a couple of cute comments about his better looking classmates and the reflexology prof, who was hot. "Why the fuck don't you want them back?" Don growled. "You need that shit, and chances are they just dropped and left it there." No doubt his face was crimson by now, from the hot feeling on his skin. "There's personal stuff in there." "Stoner won't look. He ain't like that." Don shrugged. He looked pointedly up at the male nude beside him on the wall. "You are queer, right?" Jason nodded, heart in his throat. Don shrugged. "I ain't gonna pound you for it, Jason. It's your thing. Can I still collect the massage? Or do you want me to head out?" "No, I don't mind. I just didn't know…" Jason couldn't finish his sentence. "I don't worry about guys fucking each other. It doesn't affect me, I got nothing to prove." Don sat down on the couch. "Help me out here?" He put one of his legs up. Jason pulled his boots off, slowly remembering to breathe again. Don headed into the bathroom without another comment. While the shower ran, Jason got himself under control. Okay, he'd judged Don by the scale of those asshole rednecks. He changed into a looser pair of cotton drawstring pants; they'd be easier to move around in while he massaged that huge mass of muscle pretending to be a human being. He belatedly remembered his torn ear and cleaned it up in the kitchen sink, taking his bloody Tshirt off in the process. That wasn't going to heal neatly. Fuck. Well, lesson learned. While he was applying hydrogen peroxide, he missed the shower going off. "Did a number on that earlobe, didn't they?" Don stood there, towel around his hips, rubbing himself with another one.

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Jason took a deep breath. Words weren't coming out, looking at that muscled body, covered with hair and tats. Since when do I want to get fucked by bears? "It'll remind me where I shouldn't be going, even to save a ten minute jog." Don looked down at himself and back up at Jason with a lopsided grin. "Don't fucking tell me you're into my ugly old bag of scars and rocks?" "I -- sorry. You took me by surprise." Jason turned his face back to the mirror and put a BandAid on his earlobe. Don chuckled down low, in a tone that went right through him. "I'll just stretch out here." The biker was just messing with him. That was better than pounding him out, probably, but his dick wasn't feeling that smart. Jason got a couple more towels and put them over Don on automatic. "Sorry, they're not warm. I'd have warmed them if we had an appointment." "That's okay." Don's mustache didn't hide his grin as he dropped his head onto a folded towel. It turned out to be just a bad muscle spasm, to Jason's relief as he prodded and gently investigated Don's shoulder. "It's not that bad. If it was really dislocated you'd have to go to a doctor." He said aloud. "Hurts a fuckload anyway." Don groaned. Jason lost himself in his work, eyes closed as he always did, no matter how much his profs yelled at him. He could feel everything better with distractions like sight out of the way. Muscles moved, pushed and prodded gently back into better places, rubbed hard where they were spasmed. Don gave a groan or two and then his whole body relaxed as the worst knot let go. Jason had put a couple towels in the warming oven on automatic, so he draped one over Don's shoulders to keep them relaxed and worked his way down the biker's back. "You got a future in this, Jason." Don groaned. "You should get more massages. Your whole body is one big knot," Jason replied automatically. Don chuckled down in his chest again. Jason bit a lip at the way that rumbled through his hands and right down his own body to his dick. Like a big cat purring. Suddenly his hands on Don's ass weren't professional any more. They wanted to caress, not knead. "This is where I usually start wondering whether the masseuse does more than advertised," Don said conversationally. Jason froze. "Sorry." "Don't be." Don rolled over to look up at him, putting an hand out to grab his shoulder.

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Jason looked down that length of muscles and tattoos to see that the towel around Don's hips wasn't concealing much any more. He'd gotten something's attention, to judge by the red-headed erection poking out of a nest of blond pubic hair. Don's hand was harsh on his arm, holding him tightly enough that he'd have to do something serious to get out of it. "You're not gay." "No, but I know a hot guy when I see one." Don rolled all the way onto his back and let go. His dick poked straight up into the air. "Massages are a big turn on for me, too." He stared up at Jason as if he wanted to eat him. Jason began kneading his legs automatically. "So I'm a short guy, and you'll give it a try, since I'm not threatening?" He should keep his mouth shut, damn it. So what if the biker was curious? "Bruce fucking Lee was short, and he still kicked ass. I saw you, kid, I saw you kick the crap out of two guys lining up on me," Don snapped back. "You'd probably take me apart if I was alone." "Maybe. You're pretty good." Jason tried to relax. "Size ain't got a thing to do with it. My brother is five-five and flattened me on a weekly basis when I was a punk." Don snorted. "You're, I dunno, all muscled and smooth." "I have chest hair!" Jason protested, pointing to his tiny patch of fourteen black hairs. Don looked up at it and down at his own furry body and cracked up. Jason felt his face go red. "Hey, that's a lot for a Chinese guy!" Don sobered. "I got enough for us, and any three of your fucking relatives most likely. I give up. I can't say this right." He reached out and pulled Jason close, tight against his chest. Jason didn't resist, held by those hard hands against the warm muscles he'd been rubbing. Don stared at him for a long moment from an inch away. Jason ran his hands along Don's sides, feeling old scars and knots as he went. Don leaned a little closer and kissed him tentatively. Jason wondered if he was the first guy Don had ever kissed. That was kinda hot. He kissed back, opening his lips against the mustacheframed mouth. That got him crushed against Don by his shoulders and ass and his mouth plundered. They kissed until Don ran out of breath. When Don finally broke off, his eyes caught Jason's questioningly, his hands loosening. "Don't worry. You'd know if I didn't want it." Jason ground his dick over Don's. Don leaned back and moaned at that touch. His hands scrabbled at Jason's waist, fumbling at the drawstring.

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"Fingers not working?" Jason sat up astride the biker. Don's bike didn't spread his legs any wider than sitting on Don's thighs. This ride might be more exciting. "Something like that." Don opened his eyes and managed the strings, pushing the loose cotton down over Jason's hips and freeing his dick. His fingers brushed over Jason's hips and met on his erection, exploring it like it was fragile and might break. That tickled a bit, making Jason squirm and bite his lips. Don continued with an evil look in his eye, pushing his foreskin back carefully, running his fingers up and down it, tickling the ridge underneath. "We… should probably move to the bedroom." Jason mumbled. "Ahh, this table's old. It's been fucked on before, I guarantee it." Don patted the cushion with one hand. Jason hadn't thought of that. He'd been planning on keeping his massages professional, not ending up in sex. "You'd know?" Don chuckled. "I said it was a turn on, didn't I?" "And they all said yes?" Jason sputtered. "Oh, fuck no. More than one slapped my face and told me off." Don pulled Jason closer to sit on his chest. "The lube and condoms are in the bedroom," Jason growled. "Since ya put it that way." Don reached out and gave his penis a tentative lick, rewarded by a spurt of pre-come. He erupted upward and caught Jason under one arm as he stood up. "Hey!" Jason struggled. "I am not fucking luggage!" That chuckle came again, right through the big arm holding him upside down. Jason could kick out or find a pressure point, but Don was just fooling around. "Kinda heavy for carry-on, these days." Don sidled into the bedroom. His pants were sliding down to his knees, and then his ankles as Don tossed him down on the mattress. Don stood over him, his own erection dripping pre-come. That glare froze Jason up again. Jason started to move his ankles to get the pants off and Don put a hand down, stopping him. "Looks good that way." He stared hungrily along Jason's body. Maybe fucking a straight guy would be cool. Being the first one to get his blow job. Maybe even get his ass cherry. "Tie me up and blow me, man." Jason licked his lips. "Serious?" Don asked hoarsely, his dick jerking to tell Jason just how excited that made him.

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"Kink makes it all better." Jason pulled open the bottom drawer on the dresser close to his bed. "Fuck." Don rummaged through stuff, coming back out with two short lengths of rope. He rolled Jason over and put a knee on his back. Jason struggled at that. Suddenly having a three hundred pound guy in his bedroom seemed stupid. His arms went behind him and got secured professionally. Shit. The same happened to his legs, which then got tied to the bed rail. "Oh, crap!" Jason jerked and tried to double over, but that weight stopped him. "Do you need a collar?" Don hissed in his ear. His dick was digging a hole in the mattress. That didn't change it a bit. "Fuck, yeah." Jason moaned. Rustle, clank. His big harsh collar, that he usually kept hidden, emerged and went around his neck, with a rope to tie it to the headboard. Two inches wide, it kept him from even turning his head. "There. Ya ain't going to kick my head in." Don panted a bit and sat back, rolling Jason onto his back. "Right now, I'd try." Jason glared. "Say the word, and I'll stop." Don raised an eyebrow. Jason shook his head. It was a relief to know it was okay. He wouldn't say so out loud. "Where was I?" Don sat down and wrapped a hand around Jason's dick. Not so gently this time. He rubbed it two or three times hard, watching it bounce and spurt, like it was a separate thing from Jason. "Right. Blowing you." He leaned down and put his mouth over it all at once. Jason moaned at that, his dick finally getting something warm and wet and moving around it. Even the scrape of Don's teeth added to the pleasure of getting his dick inside something hot and tight. Being tied with his arms behind him that tightly added that extra something, especially since Don had the sense to tie him down so he couldn't thrash or kick. Don took him deep for a moment and gagged, pulled back, and licked all around his dick, recovering. He looked up at Jason's face, running his hand up to pinch a nipple that was already erect. "Do me, too?" he asked. "Where am I going?" Jason wriggled. That big stiff collar didn't leave him much room to move his head. Don moved around, swinging a leg over Jason's head. That brought a whole lot of flesh over him. Giant legs on each side, and a big dick pushing at his lips. He took it in, tasting pre-come and wetting it with his spit.

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"Oh, yeah." Don pushed it in, not too far, just enough that Jason could suck on it and work his

tongue. In return, he took Jason in deep, sucking and holding his hips in a viselike grip.

"Not gonna last," Don groaned.

Jason couldn't answer, gagged by the big dick in his mouth, so he sucked instead. He'd take it.

He was beginning to think he'd take anything from this guy. He pushed up as much as he could

to take more of Don inside his mouth and was rewarded with a spurt of come down his throat

and more groans and shaking legs as Don fought not to ram his dick down deeper.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" Don held on tight to Jason's hips, just the head of his penis in his mouth, the

sensitive tip. He collapsed off to one side and let go.

Without all that muscle over him, the room felt chilly. Jason wondered if he should say

something.

"Give me a sec to recover," Don gasped and reached a hand out to rub Jason's dick again.

"Still not going anywhere." Jason wriggled his hips.

"Gonna be awhile. I ain't twenty anymore." Don said regretfully.

"Lube up, and I'll fuck you." Jason offered with an evil grin of his own.

"Like that?" Don flipped him on his side and checked on his hands.

"You'll have to work harder at it." Jason snorted.

"Hands are kinda blue." Don untied his wrists and rubbed his hands, which were a bit numb. "I

think they need to move." He pulled Jason's arms around and tied them over his head to the rail.

Jason sighed in relief.

"Hmm… Condoms, lube, hey..." Don pulled out a butt plug. The big purple one. He held it up

and watched Jason's face.

"I don't own shit I don't use," Jason growled.

"Good." Don lubed it up and spread more on Jason's ass, playing with the pucker and pushing a

finger in. That burned for a moment until Jason relaxed. Then the finger left and he felt the hard

rubber push in, and in, hurting like always, stretching him wide and reminding him that he was

tied and who was in charge. A big scary biker was reaming his ass with a toy. It finally pushed in

and his ass closed around the neck.

"Oh, god." Jason moaned as Don pushed the base, moving it around a bit more.

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"Damn, why the fuck haven't I ever tied a guy up before?" Don fondled Jason's dick and kissed his ass softly, then nipped. Jason thrashed at the teeth on his ass. That earned him another, harder nip. "Quit. I don't want to really bite." Don slapped his ass, moving the plug painfully. He yipped and held still. Don kept playing, moving the plug and jerking on his dick and then pushed him onto his back. He ripped a condom package open and rolled it down over Jason's dick with shaking fingers. "Lube your ass," Jason reminded him. "Right." Don spread more lube over his hand and curled to push it into his own pucker, wincing. "This'll be a trick." He crouched over Jason and hissed as Jason's penis pushed inside with difficulty. "Slow. It'll hurt like shit if you just jam down on it," Jason managed to say over the squeeze of that tight ass over his dick. "I've always been a 'get it over with quick' guy." Don slowly sat down, taking it all in one smooth thrust. "Fuck, that does hurt." He grimaced, sucking mustache hair between his lips and wincing. "Just get used to it, then, asshole." Jason resisted the urge to grind upward into that tight ass and all that muscle. "Yeah. Hmm." Don rotated his hips very slowly. He leaned down and kissed Jason, his hands moving over the flesh he'd captured, pinching a nipple and digging his fingers into his shoulders. "Try it again," Jason suggested. "Fuck, yeah." Don pulled up and then sat back down. He groaned. Something had changed. His dick jerked upward again. "I see." He began moving in a rhythm, slow at first. Jason responded by rolling his hips to change the angle, which earned him a startled shout. He laughed and kept doing it, his dick squeezed tightly into all that flesh, the butt plug digging in every time Don sat down. "How's the plug?" Don grabbed the front of the collar. "Ahh! Good!" Jason knew he was getting closer; words were hard to find. The feelings, pain and pleasure and the slap of Don's balls on his stomach at each movement rolled all together into a wave that was going to reach his dick any moment now. "Don't go. I want more." Don leaned down and grabbed the collar with one fist so hard that Jason gagged.

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"Fuck!" Jason restrained himself with an effort.

Don fucked him harder in return, his dick up, moaning and jerking as he began to get off himself,

pre-come spurting out. "Going to go again, then you can!" He slammed down faster and harder

and began to spurt.

Just in time, the pain was doing Jason in, he screamed right out loud, every muscle tensed as he

emptied into Don, feeling painfully squeezed at the same time as Don spurted all over his belly.

Don collapsed over him and held him tight, so tight he might never let go. Jason wasn't sure he

wanted him to. "Fuck, I must be squashing you." He mumbled and rolled half off Jason.

"I can hold my breath a long time." Jason smiled at him.

Don reached out and ran gentle fingers down his face. Jason nipped at them. "Behave!" A slap

rocked his face to one side painfully.

"That'd be boring," Jason said when he caught his breath.

"We can't have that." Don slowly pulled himself off of Jason. He stripped the condom off and

played with Jason's dick speculatively. "Got more of that, boy?"

"Depends." Jason shrugged as much as he could with his arms tied over his head.

"On what?" Don growled, grabbing his dick hard.

Jason tried not to twist at the pain. "W-whether you can scare me enough to get it up again."

"Scare you?" Don eyed him. "I'm paid to be scary, kid."

Jason laughed. "Yeah, you're big and bad. I ain't got a mark on me yet."

"Keep pushing and you will." Don grabbed his hair and tipped his head back, sucking at the

underside of his chin so he couldn't bite.

"Promises!" Jason moved so Don's other hand moved on his dick.

Don let go and rolled over, looking through the drawer again. A ball gag came out, tossed onto

his chest.

"Good, good. Can't bite you again with that in." Jason mocked.

Don pulled out the flogger with metal balls on the ends of the tails. "No, that's just so you don't

scream loud enough to scare the neighbors."

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Jason tensed despite himself. That would fucking hurt. "No smart ass comment?" Don squinted along his body. "Tell me not to scream and I won't." Jason took a deep breath. "I think I'd rather be sure." Don put the ball gag on, pushing it deep in Jason's mouth and tightening it hard enough that the ends hurt the corners of his mouth. "Bark like a fucking dog if you need a break." He rubbed all along Jason's chest and then brought the flogger down lightly. Jason glared. As if. "Oh, scary." Don whipped him again, lower, still lightly. The sting was slight, but six inches closer to his dick. Don smiled as Jason looked down as much as he could. The blows went on, light and tickling, until the fifth one grazed the upper side of Jason's dick. That stung enough that he jerked his hips. His dick and balls got it with the next blow, and Jason whined through the gag. He relaxed a tiny bit as his thighs got attention, tingling like the rest of his body and on down to his feet. His dick was stirring just a bit. "Now that I got all those nerves begging for attention, let's get started." Don drew his arm back. Jason couldn't guess fast enough where the first real blow would go. The crack and sting on his upper thighs made him jerk upward and scream right into the gag. Tensing that reminded him he still had the butt plug in. Fuck. It hurt as he tightened up in pain. The next blow hit his left nipple, and then his right. He didn't scream but he knew he was making noise. Oh fuck, what would that feel like on his dick? His body tightened up all the way in fear. "Getting there." A sudden touch on his dick got his attention. Not pain, just a brush of the butt of the flogger all along his dick. "Imagine if I give this a few shots." Don leaned down to whisper in his ear. Jason shook his head involuntarily. "Scared yet?" Don asked, still breathing in his ear. Jason shook his head grimly. "You dick says you lie." Don tugged on it. It was hard again. "Don't fucking lie!" The whip came down on his stomach, a single end flicking his dick. That one pain came close to doing him in quickly. Jason felt pre-come spurting out again. "I'm taking the ball gag out. You're gonna suck me hard. Or I'll keep going." Don laid the flogger over Jason's dick, leather thongs draped all around.

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"What if you don't get hard?" Jason gasped as his mouth got free.

"Then it's going to hurt. A lot." Don crouched over him.

"Fuck." Jason took the soft member in his mouth. He sucked it hard, with teeth for a moment.

"Don't do that," Don growled.

"Why? It got harder." It had. Don's dick was bigger.

"Because I fucking said so!" His dick lit up like a Christmas tree at the pain of being struck.

Jason screamed right onto Don's dick, which jerked in reaction. "Scream all you want. It feels

cool." Don gently caressed what he'd hurt.

Jason found himself fighting his bondage for the first time, trying to get loose before the next

blow.

"Still not afraid?" Don growled and struck him three quick blows over his thighs, chest and

lower belly.

Jason growled in answer. His dick was rigid and Don's was getting so.

Don pulled out. "What was that?

"You're fucking hard" Jason snarled angrily. He didn't want to be afraid.

Don looked down at himself. "So I am." He tossed aside the flogger and flipped Jason over as if

he weighed nothing. "Oh yeah, that's still there." He poked at the butt plug.

Jason's dick dug into the bed. Every inch of his front hurt, even that, but it was hard as rock. The

butt plug coming out left him moaning into the bed, unable to talk.

Lube cooled his ass and he got to wait for his fate while Don got out another condom. Without

any more threats, he eased his length into Jason's ass, already stretched out. Even so, he felt

every inch of it push in. Felt it stretch and burn and then pull out.

"Do you want it? Don hissed.

"Yes!" Jason moaned.

"Yeah?" Don rubbed his ass with his fingers.

"Yes, master!" Jason gave him the name and squeezed his eyes shut.

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"Good." Don pushed in again, beginning a harsh rhythm that made Jason bite the blanket so as not to scream. It hurt and burned, and then as he submitted and relaxed, Don hit the good spots. Jason moved under him until Don pinned him still. That one last mastery, Don controlling his every move, took him over the edge. His dick pumped into the bed while Jason screamed. "Oh, yeah." Don groaned and thrust faster and harder. "Say it!"

"F-fuck me, master!" Jason moaned, his dick still jerking under him.

The flogger hit his shoulders out of nowhere. "What?"

Jason screamed. "Fuck me, please, master!" That seemed to be right. Don growled and grabbed

him by the shoulders, emptying into him in his own screaming moans.

"I'm gonna be fried tomorrow." Don lifted his head off Jason's shoulder.

"Not half so much as me." Jason wriggled a bit. "Master," he added hastily.

"You're young. You'll heal." Don put his head down and snuggled along Jason's back. He

stopped talking. After a few minutes, Jason realized Don had dozed off, still inside him. The

sensations were still good; his ass was still reverberating with the fucking he'd gotten.

I've slept in bondage before. At least he's warm. Jason relaxed and let himself drift away, owned

and tied and still full of Don's dick.

*** Jason half woke up to Don getting out of bed. Light was just beginning to filter into his windows. The clock told him it was five a.m.. He'd gotten untied somehow. His arms ached, his neck hurt

and his front felt like one big road rash.

"Got to go to work," Don said softly.

On a Saturday? Well, maybe. Was he just leaving a date he'd never admit to anybody, an

experiment he might be regretting? "Take care," Jason said and bit a lip.

"I'll be around. Got to get you back your books." Don knelt down, fully dressed right to his gun

and leather jacket. He put a rough hand over Jason's cheek to make him look up. His blue eyes

looked like ice in the dim light.

"Right." Jason felt a lump in his throat. Oh, fuck no, he couldn't be falling in love with this one.

Great one night stand, not someone to hang with, go out with, hell, take home to his parents some day. That wouldn't work, for so many reasons.

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"Unless you don't want me back." Don grimaced. "I'd understand. I'm too fucking old for you, just to start." Jason put a hand over the big gnarled one on his cheek. "I don't give a shit about that. I didn't expect more than a night with you." "Why?" The growl went right through Jason. He felt himself tense, even knowing it was just bluster. Don sounded angry. "B-because you're straight, and you hang out with people that wouldn't like seeing you with a queer?" he ventured. "Stoner asked me how my date was going, Jason." Don slapped his cheek lightly. Jason pushed his hair out of his face and half sat up. "Then I guess I'll see you." He wrapped his arms around the bigger man. Don half crushed him with one arm and pulled his face up for a kiss with the other. "Fucking right." He kissed for a long moment, then stood up. "Maybe you'll watch your mouth better next time." "Not if I get it that good every time." Jason suddenly realized he had no way to reach Don. "Hey, can I…?" "Got your card." Don pulled one of Jason's business cards out of his pocket. "Left my number on the back of one on the table." He grinned once and was gone, the door locking behind him. Holy fuck. He'd just started dating a biker. Dad would either have a coronary or laugh himself sick. Jason sank back down in bed weakly and put an arm over his face. His arms hurt, his cheek stung from that slap, his ass was sore. Yeah. A good time was had by all. He fell back asleep to that thought.

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What it Takes by Jodi Payne "No, Jeffrey." "C'mon, Fox. Please?" "No." Fox, known to everyone else as William Foxwood, or sometimes Will or Billy if you were someone he'd grown up with, moved around Jeffrey in one long-legged stride and continued on his way down the crowded sidewalk. Fox knew Jeffrey would have to hustle to keep up with him, and he let Jeffrey do it. "Just this once? Just once, right here, c'mon." "No." Fox's voice was deep, but he was a soft spoken man. Well-muscled and standing at just over six foot four, most people, he had come to learn, expected his voice to be stronger, louder. Fox generally tried to be careful of his tone, mindful not to add anything to his already imposing form that might intimidate. Fox thought himself a quiet man; he liked that reputation and hoped to keep it that way. Which was why he was determined not to give Jeffrey his way this time. "Fox. Wait. Fox?" "Leave it alone, please, Jeffrey." "Wait." Jeffrey touched a hand to Fox's arm and Fox stopped, turning slowly and looking down on Jeffrey. His eyes met Jeffrey’s soulful hazel ones and held them, trying to convey that he would not be moved. "What now?" "What about here? Over here, c'mon." Fox felt a tug on his sleeve. "Jeffrey if you persist in nagging me…" Fox paused thoughtfully. If Jeffrey required incentive, Fox would give it to him. "If you persist in nagging me," he continued, "we will not go out dancing tonight as I promised." Jeffrey looked both shocked and sad, a look that was not lost on Fox at all. "Fox!" Jeffrey shouted before starting to pout. "That’s not fair." Fox resisted the urge to quote his mother’s ‘Life isn’t fair, my boy," and instead made every attempt to look satisfied that the matter was closed before turning away from Jeffrey and making his way once more down the sidewalk. He felt Jeffrey’s eyes on his back for a long moment, then heard quick, light footsteps behind him as Jeffrey tried to catch up. They walked in silence for a

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while, but some part of Fox knew what was coming. It was inevitable, really. Jeffrey wasn’t one to let something go if he really wanted it. "Fox?" Jeffrey asked give Fox a sidelong glance. "No." Jeffrey crossed his arms over his chest. "Such a stick in the mud." "No dancing, Jeffrey," Fox sang, dangling the threat as a warning.

Jeffrey stopped walking and stomped a foot on the sidewalk. "I dare you."

Fox pulled up as well and stared at Jeffrey. "You can’t dare me." The very notion was

outrageous.

"Why not?" Fox didn’t like the look behind Jeffrey’s smile.

"Because," Fox answered reasonably. "You can’t. Dares are stupid. Dares are for children." He

punctuated that his words with a huff and started walking again. He even changed the subject for

good measure – that would put an end to Jeffrey’s nonsense. "I think I’ll stop in and get some

coffee."

"Chicken."

Fox felt that Jeffrey should consider himself fortunate to have been ignored. Nobody called Fox

a chicken.

"Bwak bwak!"

Fox’s lip twitched.

"I never thought I’d see the day."

"You’re not seeing anything," Fox stated flatly.

Jeffrey was practically skipping alongside Fox, smiling. Fox felt the hairs on the back of his neck

stand up, felt a tingle in his spine. "I need coffee."

"Sure, Fox."

Oh, that tone. That smug little prick. Fox fought the urge to bark at Jeffrey, trying not to give the

little bastard the satisfaction. "Don’t do that."

"What?"

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"I am not a chicken, I just don’t want to play your little baby games."

Jeffrey smiled. "If you say so, Fox"

Fish, Fox thought ruefully, meet bait. He’d been made. If Jeffrey hadn't been so adorable…

"I say so." Fox tried to keep his tone even, but he knew when he was losing a battle. He

considered raising a white flag right then.

"Okay."

There was a long silence, during which Jeffrey was still and smiling and, by contrast, Fox knew

he was twitchy and scowling.

"That was the coffee shop," Jeffrey pointed out cheerfully as they walked right passed it.

"Don’t want coffee anymore."

"I thought you said…"

Fox grunted. "Damn you, Jeffrey." He didn’t pretend to be a graceful loser.

Jeffrey beamed, and got ahead of Fox a few paces. "So? Where?"

Fox lengthened his stride and overtook Jeffrey. "Over there, by that tree."

"That’s not public, Fox, that’s off in the distance. In the background. I want you to kiss me

where people can see."

Fox growled. "Fine," he spat, reaching for his lover right there, right in the middle of the

sidewalk in front of the Laundromat. Jeffrey’s eyes grew wide as Fox swooped one long arm

around Jeffrey’s back and pulled the smaller man against his broad chest. He forced a kiss onto

Jeffrey’s lips and Jeffrey made a startled sound, but acquiesced quickly enough. Fox allowed

himself to smile inside. His lover was so easy.

He didn’t do public displays of affection, and Jeffrey was well aware of that. It had nothing to do

with being ashamed or embarrassed, nothing to do with being gay or with worry over being

stared at. It was about propriety. He didn’t flaunt his intimacies in the street; he was just raised

better than that.

But, hell, as long as Jeffrey was asking for it, Fox was going to give his lover everything he’d

asked for and then some.

The kiss was long, Fox circling his tongue around Jeffrey’s, Fox's mouth covering Jeffrey’s and

stealing his air. By the time Fox let him go, Jeffrey was panting. His face was flushed, there was

red heat in his cheeks, and he swayed slightly as Fox released him.

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If they’d been in their living room, Fox’s next move would have been something completely different than what he decided to do next. Fox looked Jeffrey over once more and snorted. "Happy?" he asked rhetorically, trying to sound like the kiss had been just to shut Jeffrey up, rather than because he found the man to be irresistible. "Oh, yes," Jeffrey replied still trying to find air. That, that right there, the breathlessness and the lightheadedness, that was Fox’s revenge and it was so, so sweet. Be careful what you wish for, my own, he thought, but "Good," was all he said, and then he stomped off down the sidewalk again. *** Fox eventually got his coffee, though from a different vendor about a block from their apartment. It was strong and bitter on Fox's tongue, just the way he liked it. He remained stoic and silent after Jeffrey's little stunt with the dare, not saying a word as they went inside their building and climbed the steps to their apartment. Jeffrey followed him into the kitchen, watched him take a package of frosted strawberry Pop-Tarts from the cupboard above the fridge – the one that was too high for Jeffrey to reach – and eventually into the den, where Fox took a seat in his favorite recliner. "Bring me the remote," Fox said from his comfy chair, not looking up at Jeffrey. Instead, he fiddled with the silver wrapper of his Pop-Tarts. But when Jeffrey didn't answer him, he was forced to look up. "Remote?" he said again, determined to assert a little man-of-the-house chauvinism. What looked like a knowing smile crept slowly across Jeffrey's lips, and Fox knew he'd been sussed out. Damn clever little Jeffrey. "Oh, ho," Jeffrey replied, sauntering over to the couch where the remote was stuck between the cushions. Fox wasn't at all surprised at the sarcastic lilt in his lover's voice. "So that’s how it is, is it?" Fox raised an eyebrow and tried to salvage his dignity. "What are you on about, now?" "I see what you're doing, William Henry Foxwood." Fox snorted. "What? Are you my mother now?" "I shamed you into taking a dare," Jeffrey replied smoothly, grinning at Fox as he picked up the remote. "And now you’re grumpy." "I am not grumpy." Fox’s knew his reply was too immediate to come off as entirely truthful. He'd never been good at games; that was Jeffrey's forté.

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"You’re eating breakfast sweets in the middle of the afternoon."

"I was hungry."

"And now you’re about to turn on football."

"So what?"

"So, you know I hate football. You want to get back at me."

"I have no need to do any such childish thing."

"Oh, the gentleman doth protest too much, methinks."

Fox kept his eyes on Jeffrey as the smaller man climbed into his chair with him, straddling his

thighs and then sitting his pretty little ass on Fox’s knees. Jeffrey set the remote down on the arm of the chair, plucked Fox’s snack out of his fingers and held it away from him at arm’s length. "I’m hungry, too." "Hey!" Fox made a grab for the pastries and missed. "I needed something that would go with my coffee."

Fox frankly scanned his lover from his forehead down, lingering on his shoulders, his abs, and

landing in his crotch. "Mmm."

"I taste better," Jeffery suggested, letting go of the pastries. They fell to the floor with a thud.

Fox slowly lifted his eyes to Jeffrey's again. "Come to think of it, there are some other full

contact sports I like better than football."

Jeffrey’s laugh was low and dark. "Me, too."

The urge came over Fox suddenly and he reached out, his thick fingers deftly releasing the clasp

of Jeffrey’s belt. Jeffrey pushed up on his knees, helping, lowering his zipper while Fox tugged open the clasp of his jeans. Jeffrey's cock sprung free, which might have been comical had Fox not been distracted by how badly his own erection longed for freedom as well. The tip of Jeffrey's penis was ruddy and the shaft bent slightly away from Jeffrey's belly; it was Jeffrey's natural curve and Fox loved it. He made a fist around it and squeezed gently. "Oh." Jeffrey sighed and let his head drop gently backward. "Yes." So damn easy, Fox thought, letting himself smile. Easy and beautiful. Fox ran his thumb up

Jeffrey's length and watched Jeffrey's mouth drop open with a soft moan.

"Baby," Jeffrey whispered. "Feels so good."

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Fox's erection pressed up hard against his fly, wanting out, wanting in. Wanting. In the next moment, they were moving purposefully down the long hall to their bedroom at the end, Jeffrey in Fox's arms. Fox maneuvered them through the narrow bedroom door and set Jeffrey down on his feet. "Fuck, Jeffrey," Fox grunted out, as Jeffrey worked Fox's Oxford off over his head. The garment caught at Fox's wrists and he looped the shirt over Jeffrey's back pulling him close. Jeffrey smiled up at him, face flushed, and licked his lips. His fingers worked Fox's shirt over his hands and it fell to the floor at their feet. "Kiss me." Fox hooked two fingers under Jeffrey's chin as he did so. Their lips met hungrily, but not in wild passion as much as slow burning desire. Fox tasted; Jeffrey yielded. Fox pressed Jeffrey gently against the wall, pinning him with his weight alone and guided Jeffrey's hand between his legs, rubbing himself through his denim with Jeffrey's palm. "Is that for me?" Jeffrey asked. He was trying to be cute, Fox assumed, but instead of coy the words came out needy and were accompanied by a little groan. Jeffrey worked Fox's jeans open and pushed the waistband down until they hung low on Fox's hips. "All yours," Fox replied, his gaze burning through Jeffrey's clothing to envision the smooth skin and lean muscle underneath. Jeffrey sank to his knees. His mouth was tight and slippery, warm and wet and absolutely perfect. "God, yes." Fox felt himself go to that place he always went when Jeffrey offered his mouth that foggy, not-quite-reality where little else mattered to him but how he felt, or rather, how Jeffrey made him feel. A place where he would chase his climax as a man might chase a skittish rabbit along the length of his own tunnel vision. He never got the chance to catch the damn thing, however, and he grunted in protest as Jeffrey pulled away. "Fuck me," Jeffrey whispered, standing slowly between Fox's body and the wall. He ran his hands down Fox's chest, stopping to circle his navel. "Fox, I need you." Once again, Fox moved without thought, and moments later they were lying on the bed together, their clothing strewn all over the floor. Fox hung over Jeffrey, their cocks touching, Jeffrey's hips lifting slightly off the bed, begging for more attention. Fox stretched an arm out over Jeffrey's head and lifted the tube of lube off the nightstand. "Want you."

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"Yes. Yes, baby." Jeffrey couldn't keep still; his hips were undulating and one knee bent and straightened out again. His hands roamed over Fox's shoulders, gentle fingers digging into thick muscle. Fox was liberal with the lube, first slicking himself and then gently gliding two fingers into Jeffrey. He bowed his head to watch what he was doing. "Tight," he whispered, feeling Jeffrey's ass cling and clench around his fingers. "More!" Jeffrey begged - except no, he wasn't begging, he rarely actually begged for anything. It was an order of sorts, a demand for his lover to give him what he needed. It was something that had taken Fox a little time to get used to; being the top that was open to taking orders. Though he'd never admit to it outright, he liked it. Loved it. He added a third finger. "How's that, baby?" He heard the rough edge to his own voice and it reminded him just how much he was aching to take his lover. "Deeper. Yes! Yes, like that, Fox. Yes!" Fox pumped his fingers a few times, twisted them and opened them, stretching Jeffrey gently and making him moan. He drew them out, and Jeffrey whined, protesting. "No, no, Fox, more!" "Shh. Patience, baby," Fox lined up his cock and moved over Jeffrey again, sinking in deep as he did, letting his body weight do the work. "Oh, fuck, yes!" Jeffrey was a talker, which Fox loved, too. He loved to hear Jeffrey's voice, get instant feedback about how he was making Jeffrey feel, what more he could do to please. And it was a good thing, because Jeffrey always told him. "Slow... Slow, baby. Slow like that. Oh, god, so good." Slow it was, then. Except that slow, as Fox soon became painfully aware, wasn't really what Fox's body wanted at that moment. Not at all. No sooner did Fox started to pump his hips, claiming Jeffrey with long, deep thrusts, than his cock started making demands of its own. He picked up the pace, ducking his head to Jeffrey's shoulder. "Ah, fuck." "Fox. Fox, baby. No, no. Slow down baby, come on, please?" Jeffrey was begging that time. "Shh. Slow. Slow down."

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Fox groaned heavily and since slow wasn't happening so well, he stopped moving altogether. "Jeffrey..." "Come on, honey." Jeffrey started to talk, babble, and Fox could hear the truth in his voice. "I know what you want and you can have it later I swear to you but please, now I just need it slow." "Slow..." Fox repeated, finding the will to slow it down, finding the restraint he needed as he tried to move again. "That's it." Jeffrey petted him, stroked warm hands over Fox's arms, cupped his face and kissed him deeply. "That's it, baby." "Slow," Fox said again when his body didn't respond of its own accord. He started to thrust again, every move deliberate, every thought focused on what Jeffrey was asking of him, what Jeffrey said he needed. "Good," Jeffrey praised him. "Deeper." Thrust by thrust Fox made little adjustments to give his lover everything he needed. Deeper, slower, harder, and so on as he willed his own needs to align themselves with Jeffrey's. They didn't quite, but then again they never really did; this was all part of their dynamic, a little game that Jeffrey liked to play and that Fox found himself powerless to resist. There was nothing that made Fox harder, nothing that turned him on more than being able to give his lover everything he wanted, exactly the way he wanted it. Jeffrey was very adept at communicating his needs, and equally unwilling to take no for an answer. "More. Now, Fox. Faster." Fox nodded. "Whatever... you need... Jeffrey." "You're so good to me, baby." Fox rocked into Jeffrey, sinking himself deeper and picking up the pace steadily. It still wasn't the kind of unbridled exertion that Fox wanted, but Jeffrey cried out and his fingers dug into Fox's hips and Fox knew Jeffrey was flying. "Yes! Like that. Yes!" Fox felt his climax starting to burn in his belly but he sternly held it back. Jeffrey wasn't quite there yet and if he came too soon... "So good. Oh, god, Fox. Good!" Jeffrey tugged on Fox's hips directing him that way as words started to fail him. He was beautiful, writhing under Fox, sweating and panting, his brow creased and his mouth hanging open. It was then that Fox started to lose it. "Oh, fuck! Jeffrey! Jeffrey, I..."

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"No!" Jeffrey's eyes flew open, and he took Fox's jaw in one hand forcing Fox to meet his eyes. "Not. Yet." Jeffrey was panting, and his voice was weak but he was nonetheless insistent. "No." Fox shook his head. It was too much; he wasn't going to be able to... "Jeffrey." His voice was tight and strained. Jeffrey's eyes grew dark and his words were final. The brooked no argument. "I said, no!" Fox's eyes grew wide and he swallowed hard, but after a moment of startled indecision, he nodded to Jeffrey. "Good. Now, harder." Fox lost himself in the heat of the next few minutes, concentrating all of his mental energies on the not-so-simple act of not coming, while physically he did everything Jeffrey asked of him. By the time Jeffrey finally started to lose control himself, Fox was drenched with sweat, he was trembling, and his breath was coming in harsh sobs. Part of it was horrible, but part of it was unbelievably right. He was so high he didn't care if he ever came down. But come he did, soon enough. "Now!" Jeffrey shouted and Fox felt spurts of hot come splash against his abs. He cried out, his own climax roaring like a jet engine in his ears and pulsing through every nerve, every vein, every cell of his body. His chest heaved. His body shook and shivered with the force of it. Every second of it had been well worth the wait, every moment of his pleasure had been earned. "Jeffrey!" he heard himself shout, and other things too: curses and sobs and unintelligible nonsense were wrung from him as he came. The world went silent and black for a moment, or maybe more than a moment, and when he could see again his Jeffrey was smiling up at him, wet bangs plastered to his forehead, eyelashes damp with tears. He was stroking Fox's face and speaking softly, things Fox only caught pieces of: baby, amazing, mine, perfect, love. He was sore after, as he lay with Jeffrey's head on his chest, combing his fingers through his lover's silky hair, the kind of bone-deep sore that comes with hard work, which, after all, was exactly what it took to keep his Jeffrey satisfied.

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Contributors Taylor Lochland: Taylor has been writing for fun for years. She started with fanfiction, but soon realized that creating her own characters was more fun. In 2009, she decided to try for publication. She has had short stories selected for various anthologies, and hopes to eventually try to write something longer. When she's not reading or writing, she can be found playing with her cats, sewing, looking at the night sky, watching baseball or hockey, or going to anime conventions. Look her up on LiveJournal at: http://taylor-lochland.livejournal.com BA Collins: BA Collins lives in Vermont in an old hippie commune with her husband, dogs, cats and horses. When not working as a chemist, she spends time on an old fashioned sailboat and doing medieval and War of 1812 re-enactment. Jodi Payne: Jodi has been writing for her own enjoyment in one genre or another as long as she can remember. She frequently writes gay and lesbian erotica that’s heavy on characterization as a pastime and entertainment, and shares it with like-minded friends. Whether erotica or mainstream fiction, Jodi prefers to read and write about real people with real flaws living real lives. She lives and works in the Northeastern United States with her partner and their family. They have two cats, one fat and one fatter, and a beta fish named for Jimi Hendrix. She enjoys a good meal with good friends and lots of garlic. She can’t tell a joke to save her life. She is most inspired in the fall and winter, when the days get short and she can bundle up with her computer. If Jodi had a million dollars she would buy a little cottage somewhere snowy in which to hibernate and write.

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Taste Test: Pushy Little Bottoms A Running Start © 2009 by BA Collins Whatever You Want © 2009 by Taylor Lochland What it Takes © 2009 by Jodi Payne All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680. Printed in the United States of America. ISBN-13: 978-1-60370-783-1 ISBN-10: 1-60370-783-2 Torquere Press, Inc.: Taste Test electronic edition / August 2009 Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680

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