The splintery bit was now propped up with some old college textbooks. He'd need to get a new one, but it could wait, the books would support it, and in a few weeks he'd have enough saved to be able to buy one cash. Dave liked paying cash - there was no one -- no debt collectors, no rent-to-own goons, or repo trolls; no-one at all could come banging on his door and barging into his apartment and demand things back because of unpaid bills. He owned it all, every splintery inch of it. Dave looked at the apartment proudly, knowing it was ready for anything.
Dave walked through to the door, then at the last minute dived into the kitchen, and took a quick slug from his whiskey bottle. He held it up to the light appraising the level in it -- it was going down far faster than usual now, but that was...never mind why that was, just remember to buy another sometime in the next couple of weeks.
All prepared, Dave walked to the door, and opened it. Carter was there. Carter was there, and covered almost completely in a thick black winter overcoat and holding bags of stuff. He looked...he looked. Dave stood back, and smiled. Carter looked great. "Hi. Um, come in."
"Here," John pushed the bag of drinks and the pizza boxes into Dave's arms. "I bought two pizzas," John said as he stepped further into the room. "One with just cheese and one with everything. Beer for you and soda for me." John shut the door, then dropped his bag to the floor next to the wall and began to unbutton his coat.
"Great. Com'on." Dave walked back into his living room. But he didn't hear Carter following behind him. He turned and looked. Carter was undoing his coat very slowly. It was hard to tell how much was undone except by the position of Carter's hands, as beneath the black coat was more black.
The hands went lower, and Dave was treated to a flash of pinky white. It couldn't be flesh, it was far too high. Dave felt his mouth drop open as he realised that it was flesh -- and precisely which bit of flesh it was. Lower and more. And finally Carter was standing in front of him dressed in a tight fitting black T-shirt, and those fuck-me pants -- gaping with promise, and black leather boots that shone dully. Dave's eyes raked up Carter's body from the tips of those boots all the way to his brown hair, then down again. He swallowed.
John tried not to grin as he saw Dave's reaction as he removed his coat. He walked into the living room and stopped directly in front of him. "Where can I put this?"
"Um, uh." Dave plunked the boxes on a table without his eyes leaving Carter for a second, and reached for the coat. It was heavy, and as his hand touched Carter by accident all the blood in his body seemed to rush to his cock. "Uh." Dave threw the coat over a random chair -- the closet by the door was too far away. "That, uh, T-shirt's not leather."
"No, it's cotton. That's all right, isn't it? You only really said that I should wear the pants." John held his arms out from his body. "So, do I look all right? I can change if you'd prefer." He offered, but from the way Dave's pants were bulging at the crotch, he was pretty sure that Dave wouldn't want him to change his clothes.
"Nah. It's cool." Dave's eyes skated over Carter's body. They'd stop at one bit for a moment -- a sleekly outline of thigh, or the chest under the T-shirt, or the lacing showing the white skin underneath. He tried to find some words. "Um, boots?"
"Riding boots. I figured that since I was going to have to go in and out of the pizza place that I'd be better off with boots that covered as much of the pants as possible. I can take them off if they bother you. It's warm enough in here to go barefoot." John said as he walked further into the room.
"Riding boots? You're going to ride?" With Carter closer Dave's eyes had to cover a wider angle to take in all of him. "Riding?" Dave licked his lips as he repeated the word. "Riding?"
"Yeah. I told you about my horse, remember?" John said. Then he stepped even closer until their bodies were nearly touching. "Congratulations on getting a great evaluation, Dave." John placed his hands on either side of Dave's face, then slightly bent his head to kiss him, wanting nothing more at that moment than to plunder that perfect mouth.
Dave moved his head in response to Carter's hands, allowing himself to be positioned at the taller man's whim. He could feel the heat coming off of Carter's body through his own clothes. He opened his mouth slightly, and looked Carter in the eyes until their lips touched.
John ran his tongue over Dave's lower lip, not breaking eye contact at all. It was a thrill to have Dave watching him so intently as they kissed. He stepped even closer as he tried to mold their bodies to one another while he pushed his tongue between Dave's lips.
Dave let Carter push his way into his mouth, and take control of the kiss. He moved his arms around Carter's waist, holding their bodies firmly together. Even now Carter didn't break eye contact. His eyes were a rich, warm brown, sparkling with life.
John was concentrating so hard on keeping his eyes open that he belatedly realized that Dave had his arms around him. That knowledge led John to brush his hands down each side of Dave's neck, then over his broad shoulders and down his biceps then to his flank and finally to Dave's hips, where they rested. Dave's mouth tasted warm and John tried to test himself over the flavors he found there. Toothpaste was there. And something else...whiskey? John suddenly pulled back, looking down at Dave. "You didn't start to celebrate without me, did you?"
Dave was startled by the sudden cessation of the kiss. He looked back at Carter -- glad that the hands were still on his butt. "How could I?" He tightened his arms further around Carter, and let one hand of his own slowly descend. "Your horse, what's his name?" It somehow seemed very important to know all about that horse, and those boots. Where they'd been, what they'd done. How those hands had petted and stroked it.
"Whiskey," John replied. "I can taste whiskey in your mouth, Dave." John then remembered the flask that Dave had brought with him for their skating date and how Dave's answer to others knowing they were having a sexual relationship centered around Dave claiming to have been drunk. Not liking the direction his thoughts were going, John frowned. "I told you that I would bring beer."
Dave shrugged. "Yeah, had a drink." It was no big deal. He wiggled his butt a little, so he could feel Carter's hand move over it. Patting and caressing his skin. "Tell me 'bout riding."
"How much of a drink?" John wanted to know. His mind was racing now, trying to remember all the times they'd been together and if Dave had been drinking at those times. John let go of Dave and stepped out of his embrace to keep from being distracted by that hard body. "You drink every time we're together, don't you?"
Dave shrugged, he hated the way Carter wasn't touching him any more, and plunked himself down on the sofa. "Nothin' wrong with havin' a drink." He searched for something to add. "Ya said it yaself -- good eval and all."
That was true enough, John thought. He *had* been the one to suggest a night of celebration. John walked over to where Dave was seated, stopping before him and then slowly going to his knees. "You're right," he said with a smile as he remembered just how good Dave tasted. "There *is* nothing wrong with having a drink." He reached forward and began to undo Dave's pants.
Dave grinned, and wiggled forward on the couch to give Carter better access. While he was forward he grabbed a slice of pizza and shoved as much of it into his mouth as he could, chewing quickly. When he could he swallowed. "There ya go. Taste all gone."
It was difficult to undo the buttons of Dave's jeans while the man was moving, but John was doing his best. By the time Dave swallowed his pizza, he had undone nearly all the buttons. He grinned up at Dave. "That's great, Dave, but that's not the part of you that I need to taste right now. I'm in the mood for something a little sweeter." John tugged on the open flaps of the fly. "Stand up."
Dave grinned at Carter, and then after his cock was free reached forward to run his hands slowly and lasciviously along the sides of the black leather riding boots. He smiled at Carter as he did so. They were smooth and black and sleek and shiny. They were as good to touch as they looked. And he could feel Carter's breath hot on his shoulder as he touched them.
"We're getting closer here, Dave, but you haven't obeyed me yet. Stand." John said. He had been afraid that his voice would give away the strength of his arousal, but to his surprise, he had sounded firm as he ordered Dave to do his bidding.
Dave looked at Carter in a little surprise but the firmness in the command only made him harder. He stood up, looking down at the top of Carter's head, and the shiny strength of those boots that encased Carter's legs.
John hooked his fingers under the waistband of Dave's underwear, then pulled down, until the jeans and the underwear were bunched in a puddle at Dave's ankles. John leaned forward and placed a kiss on the bruises on the front of Dave's thighs, letting his lips linger softly on each one for a few moments, then he put his hands on Dave's hips. "Sit," he ordered, his voice sounding husky to his own ears.
That was better, Dave sat down quickly, happy to let Carter gently pull him down. His thighs tingled where Carter had touched them. His cock was inflamed, and needing to be touched and pointing at Carter. He didn't want the hands or the touching to stop for one second. And it didn't need to -- in the getup that Carter was wearing nothing needed to stop for a second. He leant forward and kissed Carter on the lips, feeling his cock and nipples and hips where Carter's hands lay vibrate along with his lips.
John enjoyed the kiss, but it wasn't the tastes of Dave's mouth that he now craved. A mouth that now tasted of garlic and tomatoes and hearty meats and cheese and black olives over all the other vegetables. John broke off the kiss and lowered his head to kiss the tip of Dave's cock as a prelude to slipping his mouth over just the head of it and gently sucking. Then John looked up into Dave's eyes. "You were asking about riding earlier. How about if I show you what it's like?" The image of his own body riding up and down while on top of Dave made his cock throb against the lace bindings that held it captive.
Dave's mouth broke into a wide grin. The kiss on his cock was good, but this was better. Far better. "Ride me. In the boots." Dave scrambled into action, pulling his T-shirt off over his head. "How? Where?"
John looked around the room. "Here. On the coffee table. If it's strong enough to hold both of us, that is." As soon as Dave's chest was bare, John couldn't resist leaning forward to capture a nipple in his mouth, working it over with his teeth and tongue until it was hard and as erect as Dave's cock.
Dave's nipple seemed to grow bigger as Carter teased it. Until Carter had played with his nipples he'd never thought they could feel like this -- that it was a chick thing -- but he had been wrong. So very wrong. And it was just the promise of more to come. "It'll hold. It has to." With one hand Dave pushed the pizza boxes onto the floor. "All clear now. Oh, God." With all the attention that Carter was lavishing on it his nipple felt as big as his cock.
John slowly got to his feet. "Take off the rest of your clothes and get on the table. On your back." John turned away from Dave and went to his bag, opening the side pocket where he had stored the lube. His hand brushed against the box of condoms and he briefly thought about pulling out the box and using one, but he wanted to have Dave inside of him. Wanted to feel the skin of Dave's cock against his anus. Wanted to know that Dave had left something behind after he had come.
Dave tried to stand up when Carter left, but abruptly sat down again -- everything was pooled about his ankles. He hastily pulled one sneaker and sock off, and started on the other only to have the lace form an inextricable knot. And the harder he pulled at the sneaker the worse it got. Dave slid the jeans and boxers off his free leg, then tried to raise his foot to examine the knot more carefully. He couldn't believe that this had happened. Not now.
John had expected to turn around and find Dave prone on the table. Instead he turned around and saw Dave sitting on the couch examining his foot. "Problem?"
"I tried." Dave held the foot out toward Carter so he could inspect the problem too.
"It's knotted." John announced. He began to work at it with his fingers, thinking that if he could successfully do a one handed knot while doing sutures then he could certainly undo a simple knot in a shoe. "It's beginning to loosen, I think." John reported. "Just a little bit more...yes." John broke into a wide grin as the knot came undone, then he pulled off the shoe and then Dave's sock, tossing them aside. "Okay, now you can get on the table."
Dave was grateful that he'd bitten back his *No shit, Sherlock* at the announcement the lace was knotted, because Carter somehow managed to unknot it. He quickly pulled the jeans and boxers off the leg, and hurried over to the table to lie down. The wood veneer was cool against his back, and looking up Dave was aware for a moment of the marks on the ceiling, but they were quickly forgotten when the far more interesting sight of Carter dressed all in black, came into view. He looked, hot. Very, very hot. And the riding boots would soon be riding him. Dave wasn't quite sure, but he *thought* that at that thought his cock had got even harder.
John looked down at Dave and grinned, then knelt beside the table. "You asked about what it was like to ride. Well, sometimes, when you first go out to the stable, the horse will be skittish and not want you to put the saddle on him." John uncapped the lube and put a generous amount in his hand, then began to run his hand up and down Dave's cock. "That's when you have to touch him to settle him down. I would always run my hands over Marigold's flank and withers, sometimes petting him hard," John increased the pressure of his stroking. "And sometimes I would pet him lightly, just barely touching him." As before, John let his hand mirror what he had said. He loved the way that Dave's cock was responding on its own to being touched by twitching within his grasp.
The lube was cool on Dave's inflamed penis, but warmed rapidly. Dave tried lifting his hips, pushing himself into Carter's hand. Carter was so expert at this. So good. Dave groaned. "And then?"
"And then," John stood and poured more lube into his hand, then replaced the cap and tossed it on the couch. "Then I'd be able to get the saddle on him. Dressage saddles look a lot like English saddles, but they're made slightly different. A little deeper in the seat, so the rider can be more in touch with the back of the horse." John moved so that he straddled the table as well as Dave's body, then he reached between his own legs and began to rub the lube over his anus, making sure to get some just inside the opening as well. He closed his eyes as he felt his own finger slip inside making pleasure shoot through his body. John had never masturbated *that* way before and he found himself thinking it was a shame he hadn't.
Dave got a glorious view of Carter's inside leg through the lacing on the leather pants. He could see the boot ending shortly above the table too. A riding boot. Carter was going to ride him. Saddle him, he said. Carter knew all about this, there seemed to be nothing he hadn't done. Dave let his gaze rise following the line of the black lacing and pale flesh underneath. Then he saw Carter with a finger his own ass -- there really was nothing the guy hadn't done. Nothing. Dave looked jealously at the rocking motion the arm was making -- there really seemed to be nothing that Carter didn't do. Dave looked higher still, and saw Carter's eyes screwed shut as he concentrated on pleasuring himself -- it looked like he was doing a good job too, from the expression on his face. A pang of jealousy swept through Dave -- Carter shouldn't look like that for anyone but him. No-one. "An' if ya fuck with the saddle too long the horse runs away?"
John chuckled, then opened his eyes and looked down at Dave. "No. The horse is usually tied to something so he can't get away." John slowly withdrew his finger. "The reason why it's so important for a dressage saddle to be deep is because the rider has to sit on the horse just so -- he has to be able to move with the horse, even as he's subtly controlling the horse with light leg pressure or a slight tug on the reins." John began to squat and he reached down to hold Dave's rock hard and hot cock in place as he began to impale himself upon it. John sucked in his breath as he felt the heat from Dave's cock against his sphincter muscles and then the heat passed as the head disappeared inside. As Dave's cock began to fill him, John closed his eyes once more. "Yes, having body contact with the horse is the most important thing in dressage," John said, his voice low and husky.
Dave felt himself being squeezed as Carter lowered himself. Squeezed, but good squeezed, not pain squeezed. Very good squeezed. Carter just opened up so he could come in. And now Carter was on top of him, in the boots, in control. "Does the horse like it, too? Being controlled?"
John opened his eyes and stared down into Dave's dark ones. "The horse and rider train constantly to learn how to move as one. The rider learns how to bring out the best the horse has to offer and if they're really good, and I mean, *really* good, then it's hard to tell where the rider ends and the horse begins." Dave was fully inside of him and he rested there for a moment. While he had been on top many times, John had never been on top in a place where he could keep his feet flat on the floor -- it was different and he was looking forward to finding out how moving would feel. And there was no time like the present to find out -- pushing off the floor, he raised his body until he was almost off of Dave, then he let himself slowly drop back down. "God," he gasped as Dave's cock rasped against his prostate, sending white hot bolts of lightning pleasure up his spine.
Dave moaned in the back of his throat as Carter let his cock expand to its full width, and then compressed it again, as it went back inside him. And that was only one. He fixed his eyes on Carter's face, willing the rich brown eyes to stare down at him again. "And dressage. What is it? How does it go?" As Dave spoke he felt Carter begin to lift up off him again, and Dave took his chance, bucking his hips to get movement and height and re-enter Carter.
John had to take a deep breath and force himself to remember back to when he was younger as he pushed even more to try to rise up from Dave. "The ring is a set size for the competition and the horse and rider enter at one end, then ride to a specific point where they salute a judge. After that, the pair has a set amount of time to go through certain motions. Turning a particular way, changing gaits while running, stepping sideways. All of that..." he lowered himself again and bit his lip to keep from crying out loud over the myriad of sensations that were being created in his ass. "All of that is given points. The horse is given points for how he moves and so is the rider. The back must be kept perfectly straight at all times and the rider has to be graceful." John settled himself on Dave's groin and grinned. "Back then I couldn't walk without tripping over my own two feet but I was the definition of grace when I was on Marigold." He watched Dave's face as he slowly started his upward trek -- the emotions that flittered there, the desire in Dave's eyes -- they made John want to go faster and faster until Dave screamed and came, but he knew that Dave's release would be even sweeter if he kept things slow.
Dave lifted his arms. "You need reins." He kept his eyes locked on Carter's as he groped for the hands to hold. "Hafta keep your back straight." Carter was going so slowly. Maddeningly slow. Dave needed something more than this measured rise and fall.
John grasped Dave's hands, then consciously made sure his back was straight. "I never tried to do dressage bareback, you know." He had reached the head of Dave's cock and he made himself stay there for a moment. Their fingers were tightly grasping one another and he slowly grinned as he tensed his sphincter muscles around Dave's cockhead.
"Ahhhhhh." It was tight and special and good. Dave couldn't take his eyes far enough from Carter's to look at his face. He was locked into looking at the depths of Carter's rich brown eyes which seemed impossibly deep. He tightened his grasp on Carter's hands, and tried another upward thrust.
This time, when Dave thrust up, John didn't try to escape him. Instead, he let his body drop down, quickly descending Dave's long cock until he could hear the leather slapping against Dave's belly and a long moan escaped John's throat.
"Oh, God." Dave moaned. Carter was tight and hot. And his hands were tight and hot. And his eyes were deep and cool.
"That was a slow gait. Are you ready to run, Dave?" he asked, looking for some sign in Dave's dark eyes that he was ready to go faster.
"Yes." Dave tried to push upwards, but the table was beneath him, and Carter above, and he had nowhere to go. He held onto Carter's hands tighter. "Yes. Faster."
John squeezed his thighs against Dave's hips. "Did you feel that? That's your cue to change your pace, Dave." Grasping Dave's hands even more tightly than before, John quickly rose up and then right back down, only to go directly up again. Each time he went up, he would squeeze the tip of Dave's cock and then descend as fast as he could.
"Uh." Dave tried to follow. When Carter was up, he tried to thrust up, and then come down with Carter impaled on him. He grasped Carter's hands tighter and tighter.
John squeezed his legs even tighter against Dave's hips. "That is your cue to stay still," he panted, never breaking stride in his movements.
"What?" Dave looked up at Carter. "Not serious." The guy's ass was hugging his cock, and he was just supposed to stay still? "What?" He grasped Carter's hands tighter. The leather against Dave's skin was slick with sweat -- riding pants and boots, and the rider was staring into Dave's eyes.
John knew he was in danger of getting lost in the dark depths of Dave's eyes, but he couldn't pull his gaze away. "Very serious. A rider never lets his horse control the gait. He is always in charge, always in touch with the horse, moving *with* his mount." John suddenly grinned. "You don't want me disqualified for poor form, do you?"
"Uh, no." Dave swallowed, Carter was utterly in control here. Dressed in black head to foot, and dictating how things went. If Carter wouldn't let him move his cock, then Dave wouldn't move his cock. "You're the rider. God, you're my rider."
"That's right." John carefully pulled one hand loose, then bent slightly so he could reach Dave's side, where he tenderly caressed the hot and sweaty flesh there. "If all of my mounts had been like you, then I never would have given up the sport." He grabbed Dave's hand back and began to move again, only this time he reverted to the slow movements of earlier. He wanted the ride to last as long as humanly possible even if his body paid for it in the morning with aching muscles.
It was reflex for Dave to try thrusting into Carter as hard as he could. He tried to stop his responses -- letting Carter set the pace, letting the leather push against his sides, up and down, letting Carter cover and uncover him, letting the hands gripping his moving his arms through an angle as they rose and fell, seeing sweat blots form on Carter's T-shirt -- the dull cotton a contrast to the slick leather against his legs, feeling every molecule of his body be sensitized to Carter. And above and beyond all was the slow and measured *clip clop* of Carter's boot heels on the floor as he went up and down.
John could feel a trillion shards of pleasure shooting through his body every time he moved up and down Dave's cock. The tight lacing of the front of his pants acted as a sort of cock ring and John knew that if not for that, he would have come by then. As it was, he was nearing climax, but he knew from experience that he could reach that state without ejaculating. But this was the first time he had ever managed it without resorting to calling up anatomy charts to distract his body. He closed his eyes and let the pleasure rush over him, filling him completely. He came to a full stop on Dave's groin, shuddering as his orgasm shook his body to the core. "God," he breathed. "Dear, God."
Dave watched the mix of emotions and feeling cross Carter's face. He felt a mixture of pride that he was responsible for those looks, and frustration that he wasn't sharing them, that Carter had just stopped. He wanted to join in, he needed to join in. Dave thrust upwards, once, twice, three times, making only minute movements against all the weight of Carter on top of him, but the small movements were enough, and Dave shuddered with relief and release as his own orgasm overtook him.
John was pulled from his post-climatic lassitude by Dave's small movements. He looked down into Dave's liquid brown eyes and watched as Dave's body mirrored the movements his own body had just completed. John moved his arms to the side to make room for him to lie over Dave's chest and he kissed him passionately, somewhat surprised at how the mere feel of Dave's lips sent shivers through him. While he was glad that Dave had been pleasured, John had wished that the ride had lasted all night and he wished he could keep as much of Dave in him as possible. "I wish..." John started, but then he felt his cheeks grow red as he thought of what Dave might think about his wish.
Dave brought Carter's right hand, still interleaved with his own, to his mouth. He kissed the each of the fingers, then gently unclasped it, so he could run his left hand up and down Carter's back, feeling all the knobs and ridges. Carter was heavy on top of him, and the table solid underneath him, and he couldn't think of a better place to be. Carter was wishing for something -- Dave didn't know what could possibly be wished for, he couldn't think of a better place to be right now. He tightened his fingers of his right hand that remained intertwined with Carter's.