Chapter 9: The Erotic Dream, A Reality?

Since the disappearance of Moonlight Jade Monterey, Magnus Jordan Montenegro discovered and explored other than what he perceived as heaven, to erase the pain. His friend Michael Carpio knew that Magnus will develop his closeness to him, even in the office. Magnus's eyes were fixed on what was going on behind the glass panes in the office above him. He had an inkling of what the department heads were talking about. It wasn't over yet. He would have to go back there to this place he refused to even think about. To forget him, he did everything, everything that was humanly possible.

 He saw how Michael Carpio shook his head, knowing that it would be just as difficult, if not more difficult, to agree to a plan like this. Michael feared for him. Michael suspected something, even if he didn't say it, at least hadn't said it until now. Magnus Jordan was careful, careful to hide the punctures. And yet, one look would have been enough, a tiny carelessness, a moment of passion that didn't distract the other well enough, didn't give him the impression that Michael was trying so desperately to convey. Magnus Jordan wished it were otherwise. Wish he was stronger, he could say 'no' to Michael. But even at that moment, he knew with absolute certainty that he would always come back to him, that a wink was enough, a look, and he was lost. Obeyed everything the man asked of him. Not because he knew that Michael desired him, but because Magnus Jordan himself desired him more than he could put into words.

Because he wanted to feel it inside him, again and again. Rough, hard, and unyielding. Because having sex with Michael was the only thing that made him feel alive. Because even the pain when Michael entered him when he took him roughly bent over a table, was better than the emptiness in which he moved during the endless hours of the day. Magnus Jordan was weak from Michael so letting go was impossible. It was his, had become his property, the plaything of the man whose every move made him feel guilty. He silently accused Jordan of being responsible for Michael betraying his wife. Michael punished him and without this punishment, Magnus Jordan could no longer exist, he no longer wanted to live.

 Magnus Jordan searched Michael's eyes. And he knew it would happen again. Saw the desire that merged with his and that knew only one release. Jordan belonged to Michael, forever, as long as they lived. "You're cocky Michael, admit it!"

 “That's not me.” Michael playfully tried to punish the man with a slap, but he skillfully ducked under his hands.

 "Oh yes you are." Magnus Jordan insisted on his opinion. "What was the first thing you said to me the night we met?"

 "How am I supposed to know that? I am a busy man."

 "There... again." Magnus Jordan pointed his finger at the man accusingly. "You feel you don't need to remember."

 "Bullshit!" Michael snorted. "Can you stop making up nonsense like that, just for once, while we have a chance to be private?" Jordan cocked his head, pretending to think. "So you're not too old to remember for that?"

 "I'm about to show you what's old." Michael grinned, threw off the blanket that was hiding his legs, and lunged for the handsome dark-haired, pushed him back with his upper body, and finally threw him roughly on his back. "Ouch... you bull-dog."

 "Don't pretend you don't like that." The rascal flashed in the younger man's eyes. "Would you believe me?"

 "Absolutely no way." Slowly, with relish, Michael stretched out on the other's abdomen, careful to make contact with every inch of the tanned skin stretching and taut beneath him. Magnus Jordan moaned as Michael pressed both of their pelvises together, his body rubbing against the other. "Oh God, Michael," he gasped desperately. "You're killing me."

 "Just a little death, Jordan. Just a little death," Michael breathed in his ear before beginning to suck on his earlobe. "I know what you want and I know what you need... And now tell yourself: Is that pride or truth?"

 "Ah!" A high-pitched scream as long, slender fingers began kneading his chest as Michael's pelvis began to move rhythmically, pumping evenly against the body beneath him. "Oh God... no arrogance... no arrogance... Michael!"

 "Then you want it... say it..."

 "I want you Michael, give it to me, give me your cock." Lips that devoured him, spicy musk that enveloped him. the sound of a packet of condoms ripping open. "Patience, Magnus Jordan, patience." His voice was hoarse, filled with passion. The mighty shaft, throbbing, vibrating at its entrance. Fingers wandering over his stomach, brushing his hair, clasping his trembling penis, massaging it, letting it grow until Magnus Jordan screamed, until his head jerked wildly, uncontrollably on the pillows, no more able to stop the impending explosion. And then, those same fingers lubricating, stretching, opening, penetrating the throbbing muscle, seeking and finding the prostate. "Oh God!" He screamed. Wanted more, couldn't take it, couldn't wait anymore. But Michael knew nothing of mercy, knew no mercy. Relentlessly, he felt the magic point deep within himself, rubbing it again and again, inserting a second finger, a third, stretching and expanding. His fingers explored the walls of his opening, rubbing, and pinching until Magnus Jordan begged for mercy.

 "Michael, give it to me... now!" And then the tip of the hard shaft entered him, sucked in, grasped, and absorbed. Magnus Jordan reared up against him. More. deeper. Harder. "Oh God... Michael." The one called upon pushed violently, and drilled his hard penis into the soft, receiving cavity, further, deeper, he filled Magnus Jordan with his size. "Aaaah."

 "Oh god... more." Magnus Jordan sighed as the glowing staff pulled away from him, and groaned as it sank into him again. Michael gasped, moving inside him, starting a rhythm, going deeper with each thrust, pounding, getting stronger, getting harder, demanding, possessive, and greedy. Magnus Jordan felt Michael's penis swell, loving to feel it grow in size. And then Michael changed his angle, grazing Jordan's prostate with each penetration until he couldn't take it anymore. "Come for me, Magnus Jordan," he whispered hoarsely, eyes flashing, mesmerizing him. And Magnus Jordan obeyed, came in a never-ending flood that poured between their bodies. His muscles twitched, vibrated, and stimulated until Michael with a scream sank deep inside him and exploded there. "Damn it, Michael," Magnus Jordan gasped. "If anyone has the right to pride, it's you."

 XXX

 Magnus Jordan walked the wide corridors of the property, and the sound of his footsteps softened. Carpets are completely absorbed. The size of the building and the splendor of the furnishings impressed him at least as lastingly on the second day of his visit as they had from the first moment. Magnus Jordan was thankful to have learned about this world from his friend Michael, which remained hidden from most people throughout their lives. He was fascinated by the wealth of emotions and feelings that he revealed with every woman, with every man he met here. It was as if the shared knowledge that each individual was forced to keep to himself, the need to separate himself from his surroundings, did not build walls in this almost fairytale-like environment, but created a sense of togetherness that was second to none. This community seemed indestructible, a family not to be shaken in the slightest by external influences. Magnus Jordan, disillusioned by the long, grueling years he'd spent in the office, never would have believed that love of this magnitude, this all-consuming power, could exist between people; actually, only some of them were men and women, only a part even alive. On the other hand, an amused smile twitched the corners of Jordan's mouth, as long as he had known Michael Carpio, he had never seemed more alive to him than he appeared to him now, together with Jake Villafuerte.

 Magnus Jordan felt that little, familiar twinge in his chest that he'd been noticing more and more lately, basically every time he saw the two of them in a room, felt their closeness, the atonement in which their souls, their perfect relationship, mortal bodies harmonized with each other. Was it the desire for closeness that tormented him? Is it jealousy with Michael? Every time he watched him when he sensed that unreserved trust in the other, and that awareness that the equally familiar, or was it plain and simply banal jealousy? Magnus Jordan sighed in frustration as his pace quickened. Damn it, he seemed to have missed the right turn again, this house now seemed to him like an unmanageable maze, a labyrinth filled with secrets and treasures, with antiques that lured him in with their sheer beauty and that it was impossible to escape made. Did he try to organize his thoughts; Jealousy? To whom exactly? On Michael Carpio or Jake Villafuerte? He shook his head as if that would clear the thoughts away. Of course, he knew who he wanted to be, assuming he was able to admit it to himself. Even then, even when they had both been rivals for the same woman's affection before - Moonlight Jade, at least that's how it had appeared to him, even then he couldn't maintain his usual cool demeanor in Michael's presence. That almost imperceptible tremor near him, the heartbeat accelerating by a fraction of a second, had spoken more clearly than any analyst could have done.

 XXX