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Bank robbers, bordellos and a whole lot of bed-hopping, as British black comedy meets Yaoi in a head on collision.
Fergus Campbell is straight out of prison with only one thought in his mind, to pay back his former friend and partner in crime, Judas MacGregor for stitching him up and sending him there in the first place. What he least expects on his return to his old haunts, is to fall head over heels in love with Mikhail, the stunningly beautiful owner of the best little whorehouse in town.
After one night of bliss with Mikhail, Fergus resolves to make the blond bombshell his own. But there is one thing that stands in the way between him and a relationship with the man of his dreams. He is already married the psychotic young alcoholic, Hugo. Although their marriage has been falling apart for years, the spoiled Hugo won’t let go of his meal ticket so easily. What follows can only be a wild ride of lust, mayhem and revenge!
The music that emanated from the CD player on the table did little to heighten the mood for the activities on the large, rumpled bed. The blinds were drawn and the semi-darkness made the atmosphere seem all the more seedy. The warmth of the late summer evening added to the cloying nature of the musky odours already permeating the air.
It was a Spartan room, to say the least. Just a few items of furniture and not even a picture to grace the walls or any other surface. What was there however, bore the appearance of quality and smacked of luxury if not taste.
The brass nameplate on the door read J. MacGregor, under which someone had gouged the words fuck you into the wood.
J for Judas.
Judas was his real name, but people usually assumed that he was called that by his associates as some sort of nickname that alluded to a betraying nature. His mother told him that he was named after his father. A father that he had never known. She would practically spit this information at him, usually in a drunken slur when she had attempted yet again to drown her sorrows in a few bottles of cheap wine.
“I named you for that bastard who knocked me up. I took one look at you and saw that Judas.”
It was a statement that had always puzzled the younger Judas. Unlike the classic portrayal of the much maligned apostle as a hook-nosed dark-haired man with what Mrs MacGregor would have described as a sleekit expression, this Judas, who usually preferred to be called Jude, had fair hair and blue eyes. Lately he’d noticed that the fair was turning prematurely grey, but this didn’t seem to age him at all. The highlights through the collar-length loose waves, coupled with the piercing eyes, actually made him quite attractive, in an unconventional sort of way. He had a wide full mouth that could slip easily into a smile, usually in lust or in wicked humour.
Judas slid a second finger next to his first, which was already nestled inside the invitingly tight ass of some sweet twenty-year-old. He parted the digits slightly then looked up into his cheap date’s face. The young man’s expression changed to one of lust as the fingers moved to make him more ready, a task rendered easier by the fact that his hole was already primed with so much lube. The guy was obviously no virgin. Not judging from the way he had so eagerly spread his legs, at least. But after Judas had to listen to him whine about being ruined when he’d first attempted to enter him using spit alone, out came the trusty Vaseline. Judas had then slathered him copiously with it.
“Chill out, baby. I won’t hurt you, unless you want me to…”
“Just do it, please!” His name was Moshe, but Judas didn’t give a shit about that. Everyone was baby to him anyway. Calling everyone by the same pet name had saved him from many an awkward moment, as in the heat of passion it was considered bad manners to cry out the wrong one. If everyone was baby no one was any the wiser.
“Okay,” he grinned, “you’re the boss.”
Judas slowly slid his fingers from the promising grip then moved to lie between the young man’s thighs. He wiped his hand on the sheet then rubbed the sheathed tip of his cock against Moshe’s now slick entrance, and he pushed the head inside the small opening with relative ease.
“Mmmm…” He watched the guy’s face again. Moshe’s lips parted wider, and Judas glanced from the pretty mouth to the rigid cock he had spent the last hour or so teasing mercilessly, first with his fingers and then with his tongue so it strained in readiness to burst at any moment. The head glistened with a sweet pearl of Moshe’s fluid which then leaked slowly and somewhat hypnotically down the swollen shaft. This was such a delicious cruelty, and as Judas ran his finger through the drip and traced it back up over the hot skin, he laughed and forced his cock into Moshe’s ass just a fraction of an inch more, still intent on playing his little teasing game until the young man ruined it by boldly grasping Judas’s hips and practically engulfing the lot of him.
“God you’re a keen little fucker, aren’t you?” Judas growled. He pushed Moshe further onto his back and ran his hands over his smooth thighs to raise them up and part them against the guy’s thin chest, so allowing Judas to move still deeper inside him. If he wanted it all he was going to get it but on Judas’s terms.
He lied. Judas was the boss really.