The Chauffeur Epilogue
John awoke to faint scratching on the closed bedroom door. Harold was still sleeping soundly, soft snores making his lips puff out as he exhaled. Reese slipped out of bed, gathered his scattered clothing and shoes then padded quietly out of the room. Bear was waiting patiently on the other side of the bedroom door. Shaw wasn't anywhere to be seen, so instead of sneaking into the guest bath to dress, he dropped onto the now empty sofa. The ex-chauffeur quickly pulled on his pants, then his undershirt, slipped on his shoes, grabbed one of Bears leashes hanging by the entrance door and took the Malenois for his morning, well afternoon walk.
There was a designated pet area in the spacious grounds surrounding Nathan's, no Harold's apartment building. There was even a discreetly constructed kiosk with everything necessary for cleaning up after your canine for the convenience of tenants too rushed to come prepared. Bear didn't seem to notice that his alpha was in a hurry to get back upstairs. Bear leisurely sniffed around every bush and tree in the pet area. After several minutes of this investigation, John groaned out pleadingly, "Come on Bear, do your thing. We need to get back before your Papa wakes up." Bear twitched his ears a bit, looked up at his tall master, who was sure the dog rolled his eyes as if to say, “What? You think he won’t be there when we go back up?” But the canine finally got down to business. After a quick clean-up, man and dog bounded up the stairs too rushed to wait for the elevator.
“Sorry buddy, you can’t come in right now. Blijf Bear.” John murmured low while opening the bedroom door as quietly as he could. After the door closed in front of him, Bear lay down and curled up. The dogs eyes closed, but his ears flicking back and forth were signs the dog wasn’t trying to sleep. He was just keeping silent watch.
John closed the door behind him clenching his eyes shut momentarily when the latch’s clicking shut sounded ten times too loud in the silence of the room. Harold only stirred for a second before the soft snores started up once more. Reese smiled to himself watching his soon to be true lover and thinking, “Drool at the corner of his mouth, sleep mussed hair, morning stubble shadow and sour morning breath most likely, but that man couldn’t be more handsome to me right now.” John toed off his shoes, stripped again on his way to sliding back into the bed. After kissing the older man on the forehead Reese laid his head on the hairy chest and drifted back off to sleep once more.
A hand carding through his hair and a clearing of a throat awakened John once again that afternoon. “Mr. Reese? The throat cleared once more, “Mmm…John? I…um…need to get up.”
“Oh,” John mumbled half asleep, “OH!” then quickly sat up his back leaning against the headboard. “Sorry, I went earlier when I exercised Bear a couple hours ago. You go ahead. I’m going to give Shaw a call. See if she made it home okay and tell her you seem to be fine now.” John leaned over and playfully began twirling some of Finch’s chest hair in his fingers, then teasingly added, “And then we can get that shower together you promised me this morning….Harold.”
Finch rolled his eyes at the thought of Miss Shaw making it anywhere, anyway other than okay, but his face began blushing while his fingers plucked at the edges of the sheet covering his lower half. “Mr. Reese…John…I’m not wearing anything."
Reese had to contain the smile threatening to take over his face; not wanting to insult the older man’s sense of modesty, especially when there wasn’t much left to the imagination after he had cared for the drugged man last night, “Just a second then.” John got up not ashamed of his own nudity, preening and flexing a bit while he moved to the bath. Reese then tossed his bashful bedmate the robe that was hanging on the other side of the bath’s door. “I’m still going to make that call,” but John made sure Harold got a good eyeful of his naked ass as he bent over to pull the cellphone from his discarded jacket pocket. John turned to look back and winked when he heard his partner swallow loudly, “I’ll join you in a bit.” Then he slipped from the bedroom to give Harold a modicum of privacy.
Shaw almost bit John’s ear off through the phone, annoyed at being woke up and answered abruptly, “Good. I’m glad Harold’s fine. Now, I’m going back to sleep. Good-bye.” It was only a sixty second phone call at the most and less than that for Reese to make it into the en-suite bath, but by the time he reached to pull open the frosted glass door to the shower the mirror was already fogged up and the room filled with steam.
Harold was lathering shampoo into his hair, eyes closed. He jumped a bit when John pulled his hands down and hummed silkily in his ear, “Here, let me. Keep your eyes closed.” The man had killed others with his bare hands before meeting the person those same hands were now gently, sensually washing. First the hair: Reese’s fingers massaged the man’s scalp before carefully rinsing away the shampoo with its hints of balsam. Second the body: John used a sponge he filled with a body wash smelling of a unique blend of spices, the bottle an odd shape with a label of artwork, the words including the name written in French.
Harold tensed slightly when John brushed his hands or the sponge over the scars on his neck, but never tried to stop him, not until the sponge lowered over the crippled man’s back and the damaged hip. “John …please…can you stop? I thought I was ready, but I don't think I am.”
Reese reached around to turn the water off, positioned Harold to face him, pulled his lover to his chest and began kissing the top of his head. “Shhh. Yes, you are. You’re still having doubts, but don’t. I’ve touched you. I’ve certainly seen all of you. These…,” John lovingly traced his fingers along the scars on the marred neck, down the jarring red lines on Harold’s back, stopping to rest his hand on the ridges and divots that crisscrossed a stiff hip, “don’t make me want you less.”
John stepped back and grabbed one of Harold’s hands placing it palm flat on his own chest over his heart. “Feel that? That rapid beating? It’s because I wanted you. I still do, very much. Touching you, seeing you. You do this to me.”
Harold watched his lover’s face as John’s eyes closed in bliss. Harold looked down as John’s right hand gripped John’s own hardening shaft. Harold gasped and his own eyes widened.
John took this as encouragement. “You know how many times I’ve done this? Pleasured myself while picturing you watching me in my mind?” John stroked his cock harder and faster, moaning brokenly, “You think...you think...now that...now that...I have seen you...all of you….I am turned off?”
Opening his eyes to look directly into Harold’s still doubting ones, John reached out with his left to clasp the other man’s shoulder, “Can’t… you… see… what... you… do… to… me?” snapping his hips and fucking into his fist in time with every keening word. When he felt his balls draw up, John moved his left to lightly hold the back of Harold’s head and lowering his own to kiss the slightly shocked man passionately on the lips, mewling against his mouth while coming hard. John’s ejaculate a line of white on Harold’s belly.
“Please tell me you believe me, please Harold,” John panted while catching his breath a moment later his forehead pressed against the older man’s.
Harold placed each of his hands on either side of John’s face lifting his head up and back so he could look into John’s eyes, “Yes, I believe I do now. No, I know I do. I am terribly sorry for doubting you, for doubting your wanting me for even a second. As I watched you bring me my robe I couldn’t believe my fate that someone as breathtakingly beautiful as you could love me or want me.” Harold lowered his head and sighed. “Then I looked in the mirror and saw this wreck of a body. My insecurity that no one would ever want a scarred up old man like me crept unwanted back into my mind. When you started touching… them… I panicked. I shouldn’t have. I’m so sorry.”
Harold sounded troubled, “However, we still have one problem. What do we do now that we have made a mess of everything?”
John’s thoughts ran a hundred different ways, trying to think of some way to fix the mess until Harold raised his head back up with a shy smile and mischievous eyes, but in all seriousness fussed, “I rather think we need to resume our shower, there is something quite sticky drying tackily on my stomach.”
John roared with laughter before hungrily kissing his once again lover.
Under the seemingly never ending supply of hot water, both men spent the next twenty minutes washing each other when they weren’t kissing each other passionately on the lips. With the smell of exotic spices permeating the shower, John knelt, nibbling and licking Harold’s body especially his scars before taking the older man’s deliciously, thickly round and long cock into his mouth, sucking hungrily on the cockhead.
Harold was amazed at how wonderfully good it felt to have John’s warm mouth wrapped around the head of his growing shaft. He tried not thrust into it even with John’s hands splayed across the cheeks of his ass, urging him on. It had been so long since he had climaxed last, Harold grabbed both of John’s shoulders trying to pull him off. “John. John! Please stop”
John pulled off and looked up concerned, “Did I hurt you?”
“No. No you didn’t. But if you would have kept that up, it would have been over too soon. I want to finish this in my--our bed-- making love.
John stood up and reached around his now eager lover to once again turn off the shower. He backed out the shower door, pulling Harold along with him and wrapping him in one of the nearly sheet sized bath towels hanging on the towel bar. John grabbed the bath towel’s double off another bar and seductively began drying himself off, making sure his mate noticed the raging hard-on he was sporting once again. Once he dried himself off, John helped Harold to do the same, kissing him while drying and walk-carrying him out of the bath into the bedroom until their progress was stopped by their bed.
“John, the sheets, we need to change them.” Harold croaked having been too out of it earlier to notice the sheets along with the pillowcases smelling heavily of sweat and vaguely of throw-up. He was slightly miffed with having to wait even for a minute. Changing sheets with an erection hard enough to pound nails was an inconvenience to say the least, but having sex in a smelly bed wasn’t the way John wanted Harold to remember their first time together either.
“Where are the clean sheets?” John groused.
Harold frowned at the hint of annoyance in the question, turned slightly and nodded direction towards the bath, “Back in there, in the linen closet.”
Reese laughed at himself when he picked out a set of pale blue almost matching the color of Harold’s eyes. “I’m like a schoolgirl with her first crush,” the former CIA assassin chuckled then hurried back out.
John made quick work of changing the sheets but still tried to make a sexy display of it after noticing Harold’s troubled look that he had somehow spoiled the mood with his ill-timed request. The linens now fresh and clean, John helped his partner back into bed, his look of distress replaced by one of unbridled desire.
Harold had watched John flaunting that body, bending and stretching at the task, raw need heating Harold up inside until he was about ready to forget clean bedding. Instead, not wanting to wait another second to continue what John had started in the shower.
When he was comfortably propped on a mound of pillows, Harold eagerly awaited as John stretched out next to him. “I’m afraid I may have dampened your desire with this delay,” his eyes apologetic as they looked at John’s now semi-flaccid manhood.
“Not a problem,” John husked out before carefully covering Harold’s body with his own and kissing him hungrily while rubbing his own cock against the one below. John stopped to raise his head and look down at Harold’s face after a few moments, “I do need to finish what I started in the shower,” then started kissing or licking down his lover’s body until reaching Harold’s cock and lavishing it with the same attention.
John licked up a thick blue vein, across the head’s ridge, into its slit, before drawing the head into his mouth and suckling.
This time though John held Harold down with one hand to prevent Harold trying to push up into his mouth. With the other he carefully palmed Harold’s balls while John fucked the man’s cock with his mouth, listening to his whimpered moans of pleasure. Feeling the testes draw up in his hand, John fully took the long shaft into his mouth, head at the back of his throat. He ignored Harold’s attempt to pull him off, the warning gasped, “John!”, then swallowed and swallowed as his lover came in his mouth, listening to his keening moans of pleasure.
John let Harold’s softening organ slip from his mouth and rose up to look upon his face. When Harold’s afterglow had ebbed enough to realize John was hard still, he huskily asked, “What about you?”
“Just touch me, wrap your hand around me,” grabbing Harold’s right and helping it down there.
Harold was willing to oblige and grasped John’s shaft firmly. It only took a few pumps into that hand before John came all over it.
An hour later after John had cleaned them both up, he had his head once more on Harold’s chest.
While he was running his fingers through John’s hair Harold worriedly asked, “Was this good for you? I’m afraid I really am quite a novice.”
“It was perfect and it will only get better. What you don’t know, I will show you. What neither of us know, we’ll figure it out….together. I’ll never leave you Harold, I love and need you.”
Finch smiled at the ceiling and whispered. “I could never leave you John. I will always love you too.”
An odd scent was finally making its way under the bedroom door. Bear took a deep sniff then sneezed. He whined high in the back of his throat and turned away. As he resettled with his head on his front paws, he wondered when the puppies would be born and if he would be expected to train them.
~*~*~*~
The Chauffeur
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
There was a designated pet area in the spacious grounds surrounding Nathan's, no Harold's apartment building. There was even a discreetly constructed kiosk with everything necessary for cleaning up after your canine for the convenience of tenants too rushed to come prepared. Bear didn't seem to notice that his alpha was in a hurry to get back upstairs. Bear leisurely sniffed around every bush and tree in the pet area. After several minutes of this investigation, John groaned out pleadingly, "Come on Bear, do your thing. We need to get back before your Papa wakes up." Bear twitched his ears a bit, looked up at his tall master, who was sure the dog rolled his eyes as if to say, “What? You think he won’t be there when we go back up?” But the canine finally got down to business. After a quick clean-up, man and dog bounded up the stairs too rushed to wait for the elevator.
“Sorry buddy, you can’t come in right now. Blijf Bear.” John murmured low while opening the bedroom door as quietly as he could. After the door closed in front of him, Bear lay down and curled up. The dogs eyes closed, but his ears flicking back and forth were signs the dog wasn’t trying to sleep. He was just keeping silent watch.
John closed the door behind him clenching his eyes shut momentarily when the latch’s clicking shut sounded ten times too loud in the silence of the room. Harold only stirred for a second before the soft snores started up once more. Reese smiled to himself watching his soon to be true lover and thinking, “Drool at the corner of his mouth, sleep mussed hair, morning stubble shadow and sour morning breath most likely, but that man couldn’t be more handsome to me right now.” John toed off his shoes, stripped again on his way to sliding back into the bed. After kissing the older man on the forehead Reese laid his head on the hairy chest and drifted back off to sleep once more.
A hand carding through his hair and a clearing of a throat awakened John once again that afternoon. “Mr. Reese? The throat cleared once more, “Mmm…John? I…um…need to get up.”
“Oh,” John mumbled half asleep, “OH!” then quickly sat up his back leaning against the headboard. “Sorry, I went earlier when I exercised Bear a couple hours ago. You go ahead. I’m going to give Shaw a call. See if she made it home okay and tell her you seem to be fine now.” John leaned over and playfully began twirling some of Finch’s chest hair in his fingers, then teasingly added, “And then we can get that shower together you promised me this morning….Harold.”
Finch rolled his eyes at the thought of Miss Shaw making it anywhere, anyway other than okay, but his face began blushing while his fingers plucked at the edges of the sheet covering his lower half. “Mr. Reese…John…I’m not wearing anything."
Reese had to contain the smile threatening to take over his face; not wanting to insult the older man’s sense of modesty, especially when there wasn’t much left to the imagination after he had cared for the drugged man last night, “Just a second then.” John got up not ashamed of his own nudity, preening and flexing a bit while he moved to the bath. Reese then tossed his bashful bedmate the robe that was hanging on the other side of the bath’s door. “I’m still going to make that call,” but John made sure Harold got a good eyeful of his naked ass as he bent over to pull the cellphone from his discarded jacket pocket. John turned to look back and winked when he heard his partner swallow loudly, “I’ll join you in a bit.” Then he slipped from the bedroom to give Harold a modicum of privacy.
Shaw almost bit John’s ear off through the phone, annoyed at being woke up and answered abruptly, “Good. I’m glad Harold’s fine. Now, I’m going back to sleep. Good-bye.” It was only a sixty second phone call at the most and less than that for Reese to make it into the en-suite bath, but by the time he reached to pull open the frosted glass door to the shower the mirror was already fogged up and the room filled with steam.
Harold was lathering shampoo into his hair, eyes closed. He jumped a bit when John pulled his hands down and hummed silkily in his ear, “Here, let me. Keep your eyes closed.” The man had killed others with his bare hands before meeting the person those same hands were now gently, sensually washing. First the hair: Reese’s fingers massaged the man’s scalp before carefully rinsing away the shampoo with its hints of balsam. Second the body: John used a sponge he filled with a body wash smelling of a unique blend of spices, the bottle an odd shape with a label of artwork, the words including the name written in French.
Harold tensed slightly when John brushed his hands or the sponge over the scars on his neck, but never tried to stop him, not until the sponge lowered over the crippled man’s back and the damaged hip. “John …please…can you stop? I thought I was ready, but I don't think I am.”
Reese reached around to turn the water off, positioned Harold to face him, pulled his lover to his chest and began kissing the top of his head. “Shhh. Yes, you are. You’re still having doubts, but don’t. I’ve touched you. I’ve certainly seen all of you. These…,” John lovingly traced his fingers along the scars on the marred neck, down the jarring red lines on Harold’s back, stopping to rest his hand on the ridges and divots that crisscrossed a stiff hip, “don’t make me want you less.”
John stepped back and grabbed one of Harold’s hands placing it palm flat on his own chest over his heart. “Feel that? That rapid beating? It’s because I wanted you. I still do, very much. Touching you, seeing you. You do this to me.”
Harold watched his lover’s face as John’s eyes closed in bliss. Harold looked down as John’s right hand gripped John’s own hardening shaft. Harold gasped and his own eyes widened.
John took this as encouragement. “You know how many times I’ve done this? Pleasured myself while picturing you watching me in my mind?” John stroked his cock harder and faster, moaning brokenly, “You think...you think...now that...now that...I have seen you...all of you….I am turned off?”
Opening his eyes to look directly into Harold’s still doubting ones, John reached out with his left to clasp the other man’s shoulder, “Can’t… you… see… what... you… do… to… me?” snapping his hips and fucking into his fist in time with every keening word. When he felt his balls draw up, John moved his left to lightly hold the back of Harold’s head and lowering his own to kiss the slightly shocked man passionately on the lips, mewling against his mouth while coming hard. John’s ejaculate a line of white on Harold’s belly.
“Please tell me you believe me, please Harold,” John panted while catching his breath a moment later his forehead pressed against the older man’s.
Harold placed each of his hands on either side of John’s face lifting his head up and back so he could look into John’s eyes, “Yes, I believe I do now. No, I know I do. I am terribly sorry for doubting you, for doubting your wanting me for even a second. As I watched you bring me my robe I couldn’t believe my fate that someone as breathtakingly beautiful as you could love me or want me.” Harold lowered his head and sighed. “Then I looked in the mirror and saw this wreck of a body. My insecurity that no one would ever want a scarred up old man like me crept unwanted back into my mind. When you started touching… them… I panicked. I shouldn’t have. I’m so sorry.”
Harold sounded troubled, “However, we still have one problem. What do we do now that we have made a mess of everything?”
John’s thoughts ran a hundred different ways, trying to think of some way to fix the mess until Harold raised his head back up with a shy smile and mischievous eyes, but in all seriousness fussed, “I rather think we need to resume our shower, there is something quite sticky drying tackily on my stomach.”
John roared with laughter before hungrily kissing his once again lover.
Under the seemingly never ending supply of hot water, both men spent the next twenty minutes washing each other when they weren’t kissing each other passionately on the lips. With the smell of exotic spices permeating the shower, John knelt, nibbling and licking Harold’s body especially his scars before taking the older man’s deliciously, thickly round and long cock into his mouth, sucking hungrily on the cockhead.
Harold was amazed at how wonderfully good it felt to have John’s warm mouth wrapped around the head of his growing shaft. He tried not thrust into it even with John’s hands splayed across the cheeks of his ass, urging him on. It had been so long since he had climaxed last, Harold grabbed both of John’s shoulders trying to pull him off. “John. John! Please stop”
John pulled off and looked up concerned, “Did I hurt you?”
“No. No you didn’t. But if you would have kept that up, it would have been over too soon. I want to finish this in my--our bed-- making love.
John stood up and reached around his now eager lover to once again turn off the shower. He backed out the shower door, pulling Harold along with him and wrapping him in one of the nearly sheet sized bath towels hanging on the towel bar. John grabbed the bath towel’s double off another bar and seductively began drying himself off, making sure his mate noticed the raging hard-on he was sporting once again. Once he dried himself off, John helped Harold to do the same, kissing him while drying and walk-carrying him out of the bath into the bedroom until their progress was stopped by their bed.
“John, the sheets, we need to change them.” Harold croaked having been too out of it earlier to notice the sheets along with the pillowcases smelling heavily of sweat and vaguely of throw-up. He was slightly miffed with having to wait even for a minute. Changing sheets with an erection hard enough to pound nails was an inconvenience to say the least, but having sex in a smelly bed wasn’t the way John wanted Harold to remember their first time together either.
“Where are the clean sheets?” John groused.
Harold frowned at the hint of annoyance in the question, turned slightly and nodded direction towards the bath, “Back in there, in the linen closet.”
Reese laughed at himself when he picked out a set of pale blue almost matching the color of Harold’s eyes. “I’m like a schoolgirl with her first crush,” the former CIA assassin chuckled then hurried back out.
John made quick work of changing the sheets but still tried to make a sexy display of it after noticing Harold’s troubled look that he had somehow spoiled the mood with his ill-timed request. The linens now fresh and clean, John helped his partner back into bed, his look of distress replaced by one of unbridled desire.
Harold had watched John flaunting that body, bending and stretching at the task, raw need heating Harold up inside until he was about ready to forget clean bedding. Instead, not wanting to wait another second to continue what John had started in the shower.
When he was comfortably propped on a mound of pillows, Harold eagerly awaited as John stretched out next to him. “I’m afraid I may have dampened your desire with this delay,” his eyes apologetic as they looked at John’s now semi-flaccid manhood.
“Not a problem,” John husked out before carefully covering Harold’s body with his own and kissing him hungrily while rubbing his own cock against the one below. John stopped to raise his head and look down at Harold’s face after a few moments, “I do need to finish what I started in the shower,” then started kissing or licking down his lover’s body until reaching Harold’s cock and lavishing it with the same attention.
John licked up a thick blue vein, across the head’s ridge, into its slit, before drawing the head into his mouth and suckling.
This time though John held Harold down with one hand to prevent Harold trying to push up into his mouth. With the other he carefully palmed Harold’s balls while John fucked the man’s cock with his mouth, listening to his whimpered moans of pleasure. Feeling the testes draw up in his hand, John fully took the long shaft into his mouth, head at the back of his throat. He ignored Harold’s attempt to pull him off, the warning gasped, “John!”, then swallowed and swallowed as his lover came in his mouth, listening to his keening moans of pleasure.
John let Harold’s softening organ slip from his mouth and rose up to look upon his face. When Harold’s afterglow had ebbed enough to realize John was hard still, he huskily asked, “What about you?”
“Just touch me, wrap your hand around me,” grabbing Harold’s right and helping it down there.
Harold was willing to oblige and grasped John’s shaft firmly. It only took a few pumps into that hand before John came all over it.
An hour later after John had cleaned them both up, he had his head once more on Harold’s chest.
While he was running his fingers through John’s hair Harold worriedly asked, “Was this good for you? I’m afraid I really am quite a novice.”
“It was perfect and it will only get better. What you don’t know, I will show you. What neither of us know, we’ll figure it out….together. I’ll never leave you Harold, I love and need you.”
Finch smiled at the ceiling and whispered. “I could never leave you John. I will always love you too.”
An odd scent was finally making its way under the bedroom door. Bear took a deep sniff then sneezed. He whined high in the back of his throat and turned away. As he resettled with his head on his front paws, he wondered when the puppies would be born and if he would be expected to train them.
~*~*~*~
The Chauffeur
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue