Page 66 - Leather Blues

54 Jack Fritscher

he wrapped the head of Denny’s dick securely against the
hairy root of his own. The double pinches of pain stopped
them for seconds. Their separate breathing fell rhythmically
together. Chuck hovered over Den. He supported himself
on his arms. Then with one hand he hit them both with
more popper. Neither man pitched or rolled this time; they
relaxed into the leather pain of their tied cocks. “We are one
in leather,” Chuck said.
“What?” Den asked. The bloodbrain explosions of the
popper were all he could hear. The roar.
“Brothers,” Chuck said.
Den repeated the word. “Brothers,” he whispered. His
voice was hoarse, dried by the amyl.
Chuck reached down and with a new length of rawhide
wrapped the two cocks together. Both rods were completely
bound together by the rough leather. Chuck eased himself
down on top of Den. The slow descent of his body was criti-
cal: the beginning descent of every push-up ever pumped
out in any gym. The cockhead of the one jabbed into the
cockroots of the other. Den felt his cock being wrenched
slowly apart as Chuck descended down on his body. Their
flat bellies tensed together. For a long while they lay tied
together. Their breathing stayed in tight step. Den had no
idea of time. Then Chuck stirred. He pulled more popper
from his leather. As they came down from one, he hit them
with another. Their high pounded on. Den writhed under
Chuck. Chuck twisted in the pleasure of pain on top of Den.
Finally he threw the inhaler to the floor. He quickly popped
two capsules and shoved the yellow mesh bags between their
noses. He pushed his wet mouth hard against Den’s. Both
men inhaled deeply. Chuck’s wet tongue probed Den’s lips,
snapped through his teeth, deep back into his mouth. Their
bodies contorted. They pulled apart and crashed together.
Den bucked so strong that Chuck’s body rose high off the
bunk then fell heavy as a tackler back on the body below.

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