Youre Lovely

Disclaimer: All characters are of legal age, although one merely looks younger than he is.

The grandiose French doors to David's townhouse on Oakley Street swung open, unleashing wafts of an enticingly devilish aroma brimming with debauchery and drug-induced confusion. The doorman bore no expression as he held out his hand to assist the stiletto-sporting Bianca Jagger into the realms of dissolution. Mick glided in after her in a manner that would put Miss Marilyn Monroe to shame, showcasing his infamous full-faced grin. A limp wrist and a slightly camp inflection in his royally coloured accent served as accessories to his outfit consisting of a loose, long-sleeve shirt which looked as if it had been purloined from the homogenous wardrobe of a pirate, suffocatingly tight mint-green pants which accentuated the bulge between his muscular, yet dainty, thighs and lifted his round arse to an irresistibly coquettish effect, and cherry-red suede boots.

An effervescent David Bowie, cigarette hanging nonchalantly from his kissable lips, was sprawled out on a pure white chaise lounge being fawned over by naïve sycophants nursing nearly empty glasses of a (unbeknownst to them) beverage with hallucinogenic properties. Then, as if there were a psychic energy drawing the pair together, the lithe, redheaded "male-female man" sprung to his feet, knocking over a few toadies in the process, and skipped across the main hall and into Mick's arms.

"Mike," said the beauty with a sigh before removing the fag from between his lips and balancing it precariously between his fingers. Now engulfed in Mick's embrace, he nuzzled his head in his neck, covering it with kisses between moans.

Mick was unsure of how to react to this new level of affection he'd just received, as he was fairly sure that this was the cocaine's doing, so he maintained the embrace. A disconcerted Bianca shot him a nasty look, thus provoking him to transport her to a heightened state of agitation; he lightly trailed his callused fingertips along the bare, emaciated spine of the overwhelmingly beautiful creature pressed against his chest, moaning homophonically with said creature. Bianca stomped away exerting a husky growl from her Nicaraguan lips.

David broke the tender hug so that he might fully ingest the beauty before him – pornographic lips decked in a blazingly pink glaze, pale blue eyes that could make kings fall from their thrones with one slow blink, chocolatey brown hair effortlessly tousled and framing that angular, hairless jaw. Just as he was about to return the cigarette to his lips, Mick's swift hand snatched it up and took a long drag from it, blowing the smoke in David's face when finished.

With the cigarette disposed of in an ornate ashtray, the pair sauntered into the dining room to discover a naked Angie Bowie stretched out on the table being eagerly ravished by various men and women, crying out intermittently, devoured by an unearthly euphoria. This was scored by the angelic soprano voice of a young Spanish boy singing, ironically, hymns. His deep black hair fell below his shoulders and curled slightly in the front; his golden eyes were framed by a pair of thick, expressive eyebrows; his petite frame clothed in a typical choirboy uniform of black slacks and white button-down shirt collared with an aqua-blue bowtie. He looked too old to possess such a pure sound....

"I see you're admiring my new pet," David observed aloud through a quazi-pursed-lip smile.

"Am not," protested Mick adamantly through squinty eyes, though this was a lie. Ever since Ziggy's Retirement Party when David bestowed upon Mick a skillful and discrete under-the-table hand-job, Mick had an insatiable desire for the flesh of fellow men. Of course he'd experienced it at Dartford Grammar School, as any proper English boy would, but that was just due to the absence of woman – not a true carnal throbbing in his nether-regions as he was experiencing now in the presence of the beautiful Spaniard.

"Joaquin!" exclaimed David, beckoning the soprano to his side. An obedient boy that was. A victim of poor posture as most modern teenagers were, he slouched his way over, adorned with an expression one might observe upon the face of a boy who'd been caught in the act of onanism with the stimulus provided by his father's collection of Playboys.

"Yes, sir?" muttered the boy in a thick Spanish accent, whose lips were poised to exert an exotic "Si, Señor," before remembering the foreign soil on which he stood.

"Come sit with us, please," requested David in a tone revealing his prurient intentions. His "come to bed" eyes appeased the young boy, who must've been overwhelmed by the raucous events ensuing before his fresh eyes at a party fit for a rock star. He even appeared to be aroused by the soothing croon of David's deep, soft whisper laced with lust.

David led the two of them to a blue velvet couch in another room safe from the shrill noises of Angie's orgasmic screams. David and Joaquin sat down first, with David on the end seat, leaving the latter in the middle. In the absence of his soft, boyish melodic splendour, one of the guests played the psychedelic Dark Side of the Moon Album to drown out the silence of those passed out in a drug-induced comatose.

Joaquin sat politely between the two older (comparatively) gentlemen, twiddling his thumbs awkwardly. David, whose asymmetric eyes were glued to Mick's, lightly caressed Joaquin's inner thigh with his nicotine-stained fingers. Joaquin's twiddling ceased forthwith as he allowed for himself to be engulfed in the raptures of titillating contact. A slight, tenor groan escaped from his lips as David's hand ventured higher and higher until it rested firmly on the growing bulge contained by the black uniform slacks. Joaquin dug his fingers into the torn fabric of the couch, thrusting them into the porous white cotton stuffing maintaining its form. Breaking his carnivorous gaze on Mick's breathtaking eyes, David bent over and kissed Joaquin's jaw. Then the chin. Then the lips. He maintained a constant, flat-palmed rubbing tempo on Joaquin's crotch whilst fully engaging in the kiss. Joaquin parted his lips allowing for David's eager tongue to explore the moist cavern; David slowly licked the roof of his mouth, teasing it while continuing on in the expedition; he plunged forward into the sacred depths, then retreated to the more familiar shallow waters affront the Spaniard's teeth.

Mick gazed longingly at this spectacle, wishing that it were he receiving such expert pleasures from the other-worldly bottle-ginger. As if sensing his jealousy, David broke away from the erotic kiss and whispered something in Joaquin's ear. A satanic smile etched its way across that angelic face (a juxtaposition of the most sexual nature) before Joaquin lowered himself from the couch, cushion in hand, and knelt before Mick's outspread legs.

Joaquin started to caress the fabric confining Mick's expanding protrusion in a delicate manner, but as an overdose of lust injected itself into his veins the rubbing grew more ferocious and concentrated. The exponentially mounting sensation of ecstasy was brought to an abrupt and disappointing halt when Joaquin ceased his polishing in order to strip Mick of his skin-tight pants. Joaquin casually pulled at the brass tab, taking care to break each individual pair of zipper teeth separately. While doing so, he gazed up at Mick's eyes leeringly, aware of his bewitching teasing powers. With the zipper fully unzipped, Joaquin roughly grabbed hold of Mick's quivering thighs and lowered his head to the brass button so that he might unfasten it with his capable teeth and tongue.

Mick's previous reticence had gradually melted away with each heated touch bestowed upon him by this beautiful boy. He brought his smooth hands to Joaquin's head and ran his fingers through the cascading locks, black-tulip in hue. While the exotic boy slowly wrenched Mick free from the mint-green pants, dragging his tongue along the inner-side of his left thigh as he did so, David emerged from obscurity and extracted Mick's hands from the tangled tresses and brought them to his creamy lips, allowing for them to lightly travel along every crevice of those dexterous digits. When he reached the tip of his middle finger, he wrapped his lips around it and sucked gently, then with much vigor. He plunged the extremity further in his mouth until the cool breeze from his nostrils was feathering the knuckles. David could taste a bitter, somewhat brassy sweat on the skin, which metamorphosed into a sweet, musky flavour as the sucking intensified.

Mick's pants were now pulled down to the top of his heeled boots; Joaquin slipped one off, rested it to one side, and brought the uncovered foot to his mouth. He dragged his tongue from the heel's base to the top of the big toe, paying special attention to the most sensitive high arch as he drew circles of various sizes with his moist appendage, smothering Mick with a giddy sensation. Mick tossed his head back as he let out a brief laugh followed by a sharp inhalation. David suspended his impassioned sucking and entwined his own fingers with the moist ones still in his grip, then pinned them at level altitude with Mick's shoulders, thus forcing his glorious upper body into a visually stimulating immobility. David, now in church-kneeling position beside his object of worship on the couch, leaned in and breathed cool air along the side of Mick's elongated neck and down to his naked collarbone. Mick's pirate shirt was unbuttoned until mid-torso, presenting David with ample spaciousness in which to let his eager tongue roam and soak up Mick's earthy scent.

Both of Mick's boots and pants were lying peacefully beside the couch, exposing Mick's uncovered lower half; the highlight of this spectacle was the massive foreskin-framed head glossed with pre-cum erection at its crest. Joaquin ceased his teasing and pounced on the upright vessel of sex. He enveloped the sensitive head with his vacuum of a mouth while gently pulling the foreskin down the shaft. David could feel the hastened heartbeat of the man against whose chest his lips were perched. A deep, guttural groan escaped from that infamous pout as Joaquin allowed for Mick's cock to penetrate deeper into his throat, shaft scraping against the roof of that talented mouth. Joaquin cupped Mick's balls and applied various levels of pressure in sync with the degrees of suction concentration his most prominent facial orifice delivered. Copious amounts of fluids cascaded down the monstrous pipe, lubricating it for a more sufficient jacking.

Joaquin lifted his head from Mick's turgid member; if Mick weren't restrained by the silky hands tangled with his own, he would have grabbed hold of the boy's head and plunge his cock back to its most luscious position within his slick throat. The disappointment experienced quickly dissipated when Joaquin inserted his hot, undulating tongue into the foreskin and encircled the shaft several times over. David broke his hands free from their prolonged entanglement and pinned Mick down at mid-forearm so that he might suck Mick's abundant pubic hair between his teeth, savouring the tangy nectars stored within its nest.

"Fuck, yes – I'm gonna cum," gasped Mick, whose cock had engorged to maximum extension. Joaquin wrapped his lips around the head once more, preparing to receive the creamy emission. Mick bucked his hips as he felt a clenching of all his well-developed muscles, starting at the feet and rushing upwards in overwhelming torrents. With a shrill cry, rope after rope of cum graciously invaded Joaquin's willing mouth; never before had he emitted such an impressive load. Once his ejaculation had finished, Joaquin arose and moved his face inches from Mick to imprint the vision of his slow, hard swallow into Mick's halcyon mind. David released his grip on Mick's arms to pull Joaquin in for a tongue-swirling kiss, desperate for a taste of Mick's sweet secretion.

"My turn," announced David with a concupiscently raised, hairless brow. He stood up and quickly pulled down his black leather pants to knee-level, revealing his metallic purple jock-strap, and leaned over the relaxedly idyllic Mick, clutching the wooden trim of the couch on either side of his groggy-looking head. David arched his slender back, heaving his milky-white arse in the sex-drenched air as a beacon for Joaquin's aggressive thrusts.

"Fuck me dry, Joaquin. Hard!" David grunted raspily. Joaquin pulled down his pants with equal ardour, unleashing an impressive length for his age, but somewhat lacking in girth. Firmly pressing his fingertips into the pallid skin covering David's prominent hip-bones, Joaquin aligned his doused tip with the slightly stretched rosebud before him; he then maneuvered his mushroom between the perky, silken globes which were David's toned ass cheeks and pierced his anus, causing an intense burning sensation which travelled throughout David's entire body, compelling his face to contort inwards displaying lines of pain.

David, finding the pain irresistible, jerked his hips backward allowing for his rectum to swallow several more inches of Joaquin's shaft. The worn muscles of his external sphincter extended to engulf the girth of Joaquin's cock, and then clenched tightly once more length had overcome the friction. Several grunts from David's rarely utilized upper register escaped his lips, each followed by elevated volume and pitch, the same sounds one would make if one were juggling a boiling hot lobster between one's surprised hands.

David's backward thrusts became more frequent and devouring; Joaquin was irrelevant – all that existed was the repetitive stimulation of his well-known prostate. And Mick's dazed eyes penetrating David's with lascivious curiosity, marveling at the performance which David was putting on in his honour.

David's spread legs began to wobble, his grip on the couch grew unsteady, and his eyes lost focus on Mick's as they rolled back in his head as he came. His ass filled with the violent secretions of Joaquin's orgasm and the conjoined pair collapsed before Mick, David's forehead slamming into his shoulder. Joaquin slowly slid his flaccid member out of David's quaking orifice, thus releasing his profuse secretions which beforehand were trapped within David's worn rectum, allowing for them to cascade down the back of his alabaster thighs.

An older, silver-haired gentleman emerged from a deeply shadowed corner and seized Joaquin around his waist and pulled him away from the vintage couch so that he may enact his own pleasures on the Spaniard. He was no longer needed anyway.

After recovering from his cathartic orgasm through lengthy panting, David straightened his back and stood in a modelesque pose before a transfixed Mick and pulled down his cum-stained jock-strap while engaged in salacious eye-contact with his one-man audience to reveal a supple cock adorned with light-blonde curls at its base.

"Open your mouth!" David ordered before filling Mick's gaping orifice with his crinkled metallic purple cock shield for the receiver's sucking pleasure. David straddled the rapt Mick as he ingested David's aromatic discharge and pulled his chest to his so that their pallid skins might amalgamate. Mick's hands roamed over the jagged vertebras of David's gaunt spine. Stripping Mick of his gustatory bliss, David snatched his

glam

cod-piece with his endearingly crooked teeth and jerked it away with a quick jolt of his head.

"You're lovely," David whispered in Mick's ear before gently nibbling on its lobe. He let his hands fall to the few clasped buttons at the bottom of Mick's shirt, swiftly unbuttoned them, and broke their fusion of skins to peel back the sweat-soaked shirt over Mick's shoulders, down his arms, and around his wrists. The naked pair passionately entangled their graceful limbs, exchanging sweat and scent. Just as Mick attempted to press his irresistibly full lips upon David's for the first time, David pulled away saying to follow him upstairs.

The unashamedly nude David slid off Mick's lap and lent his hand as support for Mick's ascent. (Surprisingly for two renowned fashion icons, they abandoned their sartorially superior garments (!)) Before crossing the main hallway leading to an iron-barred spiral staircase, David retrieved a half-empty, uncorked bottle of champagne and swung it nonchalantly at his side. Once they'd approached the staircase, David lightly placed his effeminate fingers on the banister and skimmed them along the entire length without acknowledging the submissive Mick following close behind, transfixed by every nuance of David's well-honed elegance and the enticing manner in which he shifted his meager weight from hip to poised hip.

The twosome arrived at the Master Suite; its door slightly cracked revealing a beckoning sliver of dim light shooting across the cold marble floor beneath their bare feet. David pivoted to face Mick's equally alien-esque physique, took hold of his bony wrist and pulled him into the chamber of carnal caresses as he pried open the door with his backside.

Inside existed a massive sunken bed shrouded in dark-blue satin sheets with gold embroidery and vibrant Oriental throw-pillows (no doubt this bed served as an in-home sex theater for David and his cronies), illuminated by the silver glow of the full moon as it shown through the enormous window covering the entire southward facing wall. Strewn across the floor were flamboyant Japanese garments by designer Kansai Yakamoto and platform boots of every color of the rainbow in patent leather.

The door closed on itself as soon as the pair was safely inside, forming an impenetrable barrier between their sensuous intent and the crude acts of the guests on the floor below. With their hands still glued together, David led Mick onto the soft, cloudlike cushions of his satin nest and gently tugged at his wrist as he laid himself on his backside; Mick acquiesced and laid down next to David. Their breathing soon matched in a racing tempo, as the mere closeness that existed between them was more than enough fuel to heat their bodies from the inside out.

Mick was the first to act – just as David had hoped – and rolled on top of David's torso, placing his left leg in the space between David's slightly parted hairless legs so that his genitals were firmly (and firming) positioned beside David's. He reached down by their side for the champagne bottle held tightly between David's disproportionately long fingers and jerked it away. After taking a quick swig for courage, he began to pour a minute stream of the golden nectar down the center of David's chest and down further as Mick shimmied down the intoxicating length of David's body, stopping when he reached the light-blonde, wiry hairs of his pubis.

With his free hand, Mick combed his fingers through the light tuft of hair, clamped, and pulled aggressively; when David arched his back, writhing from the surprising pain, Mick couldn't help but flash

his

smirk: eyes transformed to flat slits flooded with shallow, yet pronounced, wrinkles; those voluptuous lips open wide, stretching the skin covering his angular jaw and flashing slightly yellowed, forward jetting teeth – entire face radiating his sadistic, giddy delight.

Mick tossed the near empty bottle aside and glided the palm of his hand over the saccharine juice dripping down the gaunt figure beneath him. Now slightly on his knees, he bent down to lap up the sticky sweetness from between the deep ridges of David's rippling ribcage with his imperceptibly deformed tongue, hips autonomously grinding on the lithe figure beneath him. Before Mick could lean in to kiss those beckoning mauve lips, he was forcefully turned over on his backside by the limber figure that was once beneath him.