William

To my amazement, the students are actually interested in the conference. Once there, we split up, choosing which readings to attend. The bulk of the day is dedicated to presentations of undergraduate papers. As a condition of my petition to start a chapter of the society on campus, I have to listen to, read, and evaluate several of them.

The topics are undergraduate level, so a tad tedious, but intriguing, too. I'm watching people take their first steps. It's too bad Ethan will have graduated by the time we could send our own students with papers for readings.

By the end of the day I'm quite tired. I've already read the papers and assigned points based on that, but there's another component: the question and answer sessions. I mainly look at how the presenters perform in response to others' questions, not asking many of my own, and those, pointed. Even without my reputation to precede me, everyone looks at me like I'm going to eat their face. Must be my clothes; I tend towards conservative cuts and dark suits, and today I wore a muted but still red tie, checked with black. Ethan told me I look like I'm going to a funeral.

The end of the day comes at four, when the winning papers are announced before a short dinner. Our group sits around a large table, all turned to face the state. Ethan sits to my left and Becky to my right, Crush Girl just on the other side of her. They seem to stick together like glue, I've noticed. That's good; it's good to see students mentoring younger students.

I should stop calling her Crush Girl, her name is Scarlett.

After the authors of the winning papers collect their plaques, dinner is served from a buffet. A few members of the group, after a reminder of the curfew, drift off and head back to the hotel or out into the city. Nerves clench a little in the back of my neck when they go, but I remind them this is a very safe city and they're adults, they can handle themselves.

Fortunately Crush…Scarlett, doesn't leave, nor do Becky and Jennifer, Ethan's friend who is probably only here for free food. She carries two heaping plates back from the buffet tables and chows down, gesturing wildly with a buttered roll as she talks between bites of roast beef and mouthfuls of penne in meat sauce. I watch, fascinated, wondering where the slim girl puts all that food.

The room is supposed to close by five. Ethan and I both eat and drink very lightly, and he stands when I do.

“I'm going to head out,” I announce. “Anyone coming with?”

Jennifer rises, having eaten her mound of food, and joins us, along with a few others. Becky stands up and clears her throat.

“Scarlett and I want to take in some sights.”

“Stay together,” I warn them. “Back by seven.”

After I've driven them all back and put the van back in the parking garage, I walk back up the street towards the hotel. Ethan got out with the others when I first stopped there, and I drove the van back to the parking garage alone, on the next block over.

Ethan, walking as if he's got nowhere in particular to go and isn't looking for anyone, walks towards me but turns the corner and starts up sixth avenue before we meet up at the street corner.

I go the same way, on the opposite side of the street, and don't cross over until four blocks up.

“Think anyone saw you meet up with me?” I ask.

Ethan looks back and shrugs. “No way. Everyone is exhausted. Long day. I mean, I would say we need to keep a lookout, but…”

“What's the population of this city again?” he says.

“Eight million, I think. Not counting visitors. A lot.”

Ethan laughs. “I don't think we have to worry about being noticed. Where did you plan to go, anyway?”

I've already called us a ride. I turn off the broad Sixth Avenue down forty-first and wait for the driver. When the driver arrives, Ethan and I pile into the back.

“Where are we going?” he asks again.

I wave him off. He glares at me.

With traffic, it takes half an hour to get from midtown to the Village. I step out and lead him a few blocks down to the place I wanted to go—John's of Bleecker Street, in my opinion, the best pizza parlor in the city.

As we stand in line to get in—behind at least twenty people waiting to crowd in—I send Ethan forward to put our names in. It'll be a while until we sit down, so we lean on the wall.

He shifts closer to me, closer until our arms are touching. Ethan gives me a look so intense I almost melt right there, if I could melt and spring a hard-on at the same time.

Very carefully, I take his hand. He smirks, feeling the sweat on my palm. Gradually, I settle into the feeling. This is normal, beneath remark or even notice. No one notices, even as I grow more relaxed. After we're seated, there's no comment on our packing into the same side of the booth.

I feel a strange urge when the pizza arrives.

I…feed him. I pick up a slice and stick the tip in his mouth. He laughs and bites it off harshly, eyes on me the whole time. I start offering little gestures, doing things that I'd only do with…

After we've eaten—mostly in silence, because the pizza is bar-none the best I've ever had—we slip out and walk through the village. It's not far to the park. By dark, we've walked far and duck into the subway to ride back up to the hotel.

The station isn't far from the hotel itself. Back upstairs, we take to our rooms, giving each other a last, longing glance.

I'm about to close my door when Ethan charges across the hallway and pushes me into my room. I can barely stay on my feet and yelp when the backs of my thighs hit the little desk built into the wall next to the bed.

Ethan attacks me with kisses. He tastes like the damned pizza. It becomes a struggle for control, almost wrestling. All at once I'm on the bed, on top of him as he writhes under me. I grope him, I caress him, I wrestle for control and pin down his arms, both wrists pushed into the mattress above his head. He groans and rolls his hips. Before I know it, I have his pants down, my hand around his cock as I devour his lips and nip at his throat, drawing deep shudders as I caress and pinch and bite and suck.

Ethan wriggles out of his clothes like a fish caught in a trap, squirming and writhing under me until I don't know how he's done it, but everything is on the floor. He pulls lightly on my tie and I slip out of it and undress, still on top of him. With every article of clothing I shed, more of his skin rubs against mine, growing to a full body caress that has him erect and hard under me.

He slips his arms around me and buries his face in my neck. Despite the arousal, the throbbing, screaming, gripping need to get my cock buried in him, I hold him tight and draw quick sharp breaths as he nuzzles and licks and kisses me, on my neck, on my shoulders, my chest.

It takes forever but I work my way down his stomach and take him in my mouth. He squirms and groans, his legs writhing around me as I cup his ass in my hands and work the tip of his erection with my lips and tongue. He gasps even more deeply when I swallow more of him and slide a probing finger up his ass. He uncoils for me, panting and moaning softly, then more loudly, testing my reactions. Will anyone hear us? Can anyone? I don't know, and it's hard to care.

Ethan moans and knots his fingers in my hair. I enjoy going down on him so much, taking control of his pleasure, of his body, owning him this way. When I'm pumping into his throat I feel commanding, when I have him in mine I feel like I'm consuming him. I don't let him finish. I know he wants to. I can feel the throb, and phantom pains low in my stomach and my balls clench in sympathy. I edge him just to where the pleasure rises to a hint of pain and back off there, leaving him writhing.

Then I'm on him, savaging him with kisses again. I grab a condom from my bag and roll it on. Nice and slick with warm lube, I ease into him. He stretches around me, his beautiful body swallowing me. With his arms and legs around me, his throbbing cock and balls against my stomach, and my penis throbbing to a bursting, strained erection inside him, I feel a completion that nothing else can match.

I fuck him slow, savoring it. He saves himself for me, and after all that teasing I have to go slow so all the grinding and pressure and thick energy of my meat in his ass doesn't make him cum by all that alone without even his hands or my mouth. The challenge is twofold. I want to cut loose, release myself into the animal lust that flares in my stomach, and just cut loose until I've blown inside him. Just thinking about it—how the first time I warned him it might hurt and he told me he wanted it to—almost makes me lose it.

Ethan gasps and opens his eyes when I roll a condom down his cock and slather lube on him. I start fucking him harder, rising up and squeezing his cock with my hand in time with my thrusts as I use the other to hold him down. He's almost ready.

I pull out of him and mount him, twisting to pin him down and sit on his lubed cock, taking him into me. He gasps and thrusts up, gripping my waist with quivering fingers, gone bloodless white from digging into my flesh. It hurts there, it hurts in my ass, and I don't care. I roll my hips, working his hardness against me in just the right spot and his breaths turn into sharp inhales followed by groaning moans, like he can't breathe out without making a noise anymore.

I pull the condom off my dick and grab his wrists, guiding his hand to it. He pulls and strokes and plays with it in time with my movements. I thrust my cock through his tight grip as I roll and turn on his, pressing it into the throbbing place behind the massively engorged rod in his hands.

He's cumming in the condom. I feel the explosion and he starts jerking. I cut loose and explode all over him, consumed, like his energy is pulsing through him and into me and then out all over his stomach and chest. I think I just set a new record for how hard and long I've come.

Ethan rolls off the bed, stomach shaking. The world goes mad. I roll on another condom, pull his off, jerk him hard again as he writhes and squirms. I pin him against the wall and power fuck him from behind, savoring his moans and pained cries as his heels come up off the floor and he shudders and moans, eggs me on, moans yes, moans more, throws his ass against me to meet my thrusts only for me to drive him into the wall.

I come from that. I come from spinning him around and shoving him inside me, until he takes over thrusting, holding me around the waist as I bend over the bed. He even fucks submissively, kissing my back as if in apology, stroking my cock with his thrusts until I explode all over his hands as he finishes again.

Exhausted, the two of us slump into the shower together. After a while we stop using our hands and start using each other's bodies for lather. With the tight quarters it takes effort not to slip into him bare, feel him with no barriers between us.

“I love you,” he purrs, nuzzling his cheek against my chest.

I run my fingers through his wet hair, dip to smell it, my face mashed against the top of his head. He hugs me tightly like he's afraid I'm going to disappear. The water never gets cold.

After we towel-dry, we air dry on the bed, cuddled up in a mass of limbs. Ethan dozes off a few times, rises.

“Shit, it's after eleven,” he says. “Let's go up to the roof deck.”

“Bar's closed,” I say.

“I know. I just want some air.”

After we dress, Ethan just in his untucked dress shirt and slacks while I tuck in my shirt to balance out the barbarity of wearing no socks, we take the elevator up and step out onto the deck.

We are alone, the bar is covered with a tarp and closed, and the air is crisp and cool, a little humid but quite comfortable. Ethan leans on the low wall around the perimeter of the roof and looks up at the Chrysler Building as it looms over us a few blocks down, seeming too big to be so far away.

I sidle up behind him and wrap an arm casually around his waist. I have to be careful not to be too close to him where anyone can see, but I need this.

We start to kiss, passionately. It's Ethan that breaks it, turning around in horror, looking over my shoulder.

My stomach sinks and I turn, almost knowing what I'll see before I do.

Scarlett, Crush Girl, is standing behind us, her mouth open and her eyes wide as if she'd just watched us jump from the roof.

Then she bolts for the elevator.