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Category: Gay Fiction/Romance
Description:

Whether he knows it--whether he wants it--every man in these stories is headed for his perfect match. Dating services, matchmakers, family introductions, even unlikely friends... the means may differ, and the road probably won't run straight, but "happily ever after" is guaranteed at the end. It's about romance and heart, but some steamy attraction never hurts! Be it a perfect stranger or a crush from long ago, all it takes is a little help to find that certain someone and "Make Me a Match."

Stories included are:

The Perfect Match by Jaelyn Storm
Crash and Burn by Catt Ford
Third Time's the Charm by Chrissy Munder
Dear Alex by Clare London
How to Woo a Straight Man by Jaymz Connelly
Three on a Match by Nicki Bennett

21 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [392 KB]
Words: 90103
Reading time: 257-360 min.

The Perfect Match

I closed my eyes, more to block out where I was than for piety's sake, as I prayed for help. We hit a bump, throwing me into the tire iron and interrupting my attempts to converse with the higher power once again. My back would most likely be black and blue from that by the end of the ride. Instead, my mind went back to how I came to be in this predicament.

It all started with a stunning blonde. She was a bearcat, really hot-blooded. My mother always told me to watch out for girls like her but I never knew until that day what she meant. Besides, I was a college boy, Big Man on Campus. I was supposed to be looking at girls like that, according to the other fellows on the football team. So, when a cute little flapper named Evania pranced up to me and invited me on a moonlight stroll, I accepted.

To do otherwise would have led to ridicule and speculation the likes of which I had no wish to endure. I was a strapping football player just topping six-foot-four with an athletic body, wide shoulders and narrow hips. My sandy-colored hair was cut short, keeping the curls down to tamable waves. I had sky-blue eyes that had a way of attracting the ladies, and I had money. Going out with dolls, no matter how annoying it was, was expected of me.

I had to admit that while she was not to my taste she was an eyeful. Her blonde hair was cut in a close bob and styled in thick glossy ringlets. She had the boyish figure, flat and straight as a board, that gave the flapper style such appeal. She wore makeup, dark eye shadow that made her eyes look slumberous and shiny red lipstick that drew attention to her full lips. Her voice was husky and sophisticated and had a slight French accent that made her even more alluring. The fact that she had singled me out made me the envy of my teammates.

We walked along the beach for a time, talking of the life and works of Oscar Wilde. I was surprised by her knowledge of the man, thinking that I was his singular, greatest fan. She knew things about my idol that even I had not known.

She had a rare volume of his work annotated in his own hand and invited me back to her apartment to see it. I went with her, though I had some trepidation of being alone with her. I did not fear her per se, but certain behaviors were expected of a young man placed in this situation, alone and at a lady's apartment. Expectations of heavy petting and the like.

Unfortunately, I had very little interest in displaying these expected behaviors. Though I might be able to work up a modicum of excitement if her assets weren't faked, or rather if she hadn't been wearing foundations to obscure her femininity. If she were the epitome of a flapper then my sensibilities would have been far easier to mollify.

We sat in her parlor, drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. Up close, she smelled of rosewater and tobacco. After a time she produced the promised volume. I was delighted by the find. I flipped through it ecstatically, looking over the actual handwriting of my idol as he explained his thoughts. I became engrossed in the volume, much to Evania's annoyance. She tolerated this for nearly an hour before clearing her throat sharply.

"I must apologize. Wilde's work never fails to captivate me. It was terribly impolite of me to allow it to do so. Please forgive my rudeness," I said sincerely with a boyish smile that never failed to melt the hearts of women of all ages.

Evania was no exception; she smiled winsomely at me, forgiving me in an instant. She turned to me with that look in her eyes and I resigned myself to the inevitable. First, I surreptitiously laid an arm along the back of the couch, curling it slightly so it could wrap around her at the slightest provocation. I had hopes that she would rebuff me, but she dashed that notion quickly by leaning back and forcing my arm to fall around her shoulders.

I gave her a more meaningful smile and hoped she didn't notice that it fell short of my eyes. She took the bait, turning her lips up while her cerulean blue eyes fluttered closed. There was nothing more for me to do, but to lower my lips to hers. I kissed her thoroughly, applying the techniques that I had mastered long ago. Most girls rarely wanted to go beyond the kissing stage. By being a good kisser, I had bragging rights and it kept the fellows from asking for more details of my exploits.

"Oh, Adam," Evania sighed, her eyes fluttering back open when I pulled away. "You're making me regret that I had planned to give you to my master as a gift."

Her voice sounded far away, and I was having a hard time opening my eyes after the kiss. My body felt heavy also, too heavy to move. Alarm bells started going off in my head, but they too were distant. By dent of will, I attempted to force my body to move but with disappointing results. All I managed to do was flop around a bit like a pole-axed fish.

"Hush child, I have no wish to bring you harm. The potion in my lipstick was only meant to bring you sleep."

Evania's voice sounded as though it was coming from the end of a very long tunnel. I remember little else after that, just snippets of the next couple of hours. A surprisingly robust old man in a butler suit came and then darkness engulfed me.

I became aware again as I was placed in a bathtub of very warm water. Again, I could hear Evania's voice in the distance and then nothing else until I was dumped into the trunk of a car.

I found myself awake and bound in the cramped darkness of a trunk and berating myself for being in such a ridiculous predicament. Thankfully, the car stopped a few minutes later and Evania opened the trunk. She pulled me out and held me up with one hand as my cramped limbs regained life.

She was monstrously strong but I was concerned with a more pressing matter. Pins and needles shot through my body as it reawakened. I clenched my teeth, refusing to let her hear any unmanly sounds of pains issuing from my lips. Through the haze of pain, I saw the devil woman smile in approval, but was too troubled with my own travails to address it.

She half-carried me inside, forcing me to work the rest of the kinks out of my legs. I caught glimpses of expensive luxuries and cavernous rooms, putting me in mind of a mansion. There were servants scurrying about, further reinforcing my thoughts. Surprisingly, none of them seemed surprised or alarmed by the unnatural feat of strength the woman seemed to be showing.

By the time we reached a set of solid wooden double doors, I was able to move on my own steam. She held me with one dainty arm on my bicep as she knocked at the regal portal. Naturally, I tried to pull away from her but it was as if I was playing tug-of-war with an elephant. I was unable to make a fraction of an inch of headway in her grip.

The doors were swung open by a bewhiskered butler to reveal a massively regal study decorated in dark woods and rich leathers. It was two stories and lined with rows upon rows of bookshelves filled with leather-bound books. The few spaces left on the wall were occupied by works of art, some of which looked as though they were possibly originals. There was an ancient globe set in a three-legged wooden stand to the right of a colossal desk that dominated the room.

Sitting at the desk was the most astonishing man I have ever seen. He had the exotic look that would put one of my idols, Rudolph Valentino, to shame. His skin was pale, marbled with delicate blue veins. His dark hair was shoulder-length and slicked back into a neat queue to show off a prominent widow's peak. He had a straight, aristocratic nose, sharp cheekbones, and a perfect bow of a mouth. His eyes, framed in long, thick lashes, were dark and filled with mystery. They impaled me when he looked up from the papers he was reading.

"Evie, what a surprise!" He exclaimed in a cool, cultured voice. Like Evania, he seemed to have a slight accent but his was unidentifiable to me.

"I do not know why, Sire. It is your birthday and I come bearing gifts." Evania spoke in a very formal tone as if she were speaking to royalty.

"Really, this is most welcome. Thank you." He replied rising from his desk to study me.

I could not tear my eyes away from him as he walked toward me. He looked even better moving toward me. Dressed in formal attire, he was a sight to behold with his wide shoulders and athletic body encased in black evening attire. I trembled a bit as he approached, wanting to run but unable to make my feet move an inch.

There was something innately powerful and just a little predatory about this man, making me wary to cross him. He inspected me thoroughly, circling me twice over before turning to address Evania.

"Thank you, Evie. He is delightful." The man said with delight. "What is his name?"

"Adam Taylor," Evie replied.

"How perfect. I am quite pleased."

"That's not all, Sire. I also wanted to give you this." Evie handed him a small gaily wrapped package.

He opened it with the enthusiasm of a child to find the Oscar Wilde volume that I had admired earlier. Despite everything, my mind was filled with envy at watching such a prize go to another as I watched him leaf through the book.

"Evie, you have truly outdone yourself this year."

"It is not every day that you turn a millennium. I'm sure that you will find Adam a treasure. He even shares your love for Oscar Wilde, and I'm pretty sure that you are more to his taste than I ever could be." Evie said knowingly.

I flushed that she'd so easily deduced my secret and my response drew amusement from the pair. When their amusement subsided, Evie embraced the man after he thanked her again for the gifts. She turned to give me another smile.

"Au revoir, Adam. I look forward to seeing you again soon," she said and then added in a conspiratorial whisper that made me blush. "You were one of the best kissers I've ever encountered. Maybe I will be able to share more with you again, oui?"

Then she said her goodbyes to him and I was left in the presence of this amazing man.

"Would you like to take a tour of my home?" He asked politely.

"Yes, er--" I faltered, not knowing his name.

"Viktor Ravenika," he supplied.

"I would like that very much, Mr. Ravenika," I continued.

"Good, good. Follow me and I think that you should call me Viktor for now. I doubt that our acquaintance will remain formal," he said with a charming smile and then led me into the house.

I nodded and followed behind. His house was absolutely magnificent. There were beauties and wonders everywhere I looked. As we toured he talked of Aestheticism and the Decadence Movement. I was drawn into the conversation, intrigued by his knowledgeable opinions. Before I knew it, I was striding through the house by his side and talking freely.

We started in the basement where a cavernous room decorated in an Egyptian motif held a long, narrow crystal blue pool. It was quite impressive and I told Mr. Ravenika as much.

"Viktor, please." He implored as we headed up the stairs past an elevator with gilded gates.

The first floor was where his study was located, along with several parlors, the dining room, and kitchen. Viktor indicated another set of double doors saying, that there was a ballroom behind it, but the chandeliers were being converted to electricity and the room was unsafe at the time. On the second floor there were twenty-one bedrooms and eleven bathrooms spread over three wings.

The twenty-first bedroom was at the end of the hall of the West wing. There was little doubt that it was the master bedroom. It was obvious that he was very proud of this room as he opened the door with a flourish. The room was decorated in blacks and golds and had a more modern feel than the rest of the house. Black marble covered many of the surfaces of the room and gold inlay accented many of the decorative elements.

I noticed this all in one glance, but my attention was caught by the huge golden bed, canopied in heavy black velvet. It was a splendid tribute to decadence and I could almost imagine myself rolling around naked in it, my body reflecting the light off the black-and-gold marble fireplace that adorned the wall to the right of the bed.

"The sheets are black silk and embroidered in satin threads of gold. I love the way they feel against my skin," Viktor rumbled.

There was something about the way he said it that put sex squarely in my mind, making me blush. Viktor gave me what seemed to be a knowing smile and I froze like a rabbit sensing danger.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Viktor asked softly.

I shook my head, suddenly tongue-tied.

"I'm surprised. You look like a fine strapping young man whom the girls would flock to. I bet you even play sports."

"Football," I answered shyly, not quite able to meet his eyes.

"Yes, football," Viktor drawled, somehow making the sport sound just a tad tawdry, before continuing. "Then you should have no problems securing a paramour. The ladies love sports heroes. So, why aren't you attached to anyone?"

"I--I don't know." I stuttered the lie nervously.

"Yes, you do. But if you'd like to play a guessing game then I will indulge you."

Feverishly, I tried to think of a way to change the subject, not wanting to go down the path this conversation was leading. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind to halt this line, and to my horror, Viktor pressed onward.

"Or maybe Evie was right. You aren't so keen on the female persuasion. Maybe you prefer hard-muscled bodies and stubbled cheeks," he said, showing that he'd overheard Evie's aside to me before she'd left.

I swallowed painfully, but was otherwise frozen by the frank look he was giving me. It was a hungry look that made something melt deep inside of me.

"Come on, Adam, tell the truth and shame the devil. If you had your choice which would you prefer, me or Evie?" He asked me in that stirring rumble that had me focusing on his big black bed again.

"You." The word came out in a tiny whisper that I wasn't even aware of until a triumphant smile lit up Viktor's face.

Moving behind me, he said. "You really are perfect, Adam. I can't wait to sample you."

I shivered as his heated words caressed my neck. My heart raced dizzyingly while other parts of my body throbbed painfully. My mouth went dry and my mind went on another hiatus.

I just stood there, unable to move or think while he undressed me. I almost felt as though I was a young child again. My mother would pull off my clothes while I stood very still, being of minimal help. Though, this undressing engendered in me far more grown-up feelings than those other times from a bygone age.

When Viktor had me completely naked, I heard him murmur, "Simply perfect," before leading me to the bed. I was entirely docile as he parted the curtains and pressed me back onto the coverlet. It smelled of lavender. When he came down beside me, I was enveloped by silk. Underneath me, beside me, and over me, it was as if nearly every inch of me was being rubbed by the soft material.

"Was Evie right?" Viktor asked softly, his fingers stroking my cheek.

"Was she right about what?" I asked, his nearness making it difficult for me to think.

"Are you a good kisser?" He asked, leaning forward until his mouth was nearly touching mine.

I had no idea how to answer that. I'm not even sure that I could have answered it; my mouth was so dry that my tongue had stuck to its roof. I swallowed twice and I imagine that my eyes were as big as saucers. His hand moved from my cheek to rest over my heart.

"Your heart's beating like a jackhammer. Are you frightened or excited?" He purred.

Thrice, I attempted to speak but nothing came out. Thankfully, he took pity on me, taking away my need to answer by kissing me.

Finally! a part of me thought as his lips settled on mine. It felt as though I'd spent the entire night waiting for this, and I kissed him back with the pent-up passion that had built up within me.

I heard him growl in appreciation before deepening the kiss. I tasted mint as his tongue stroked mine with a velvet rasp that made my body jerk in surprise. I had never known such instant and powerful arousal.

"Evie was not mistaken," he said huskily after pulling away from the kiss. "I enjoyed that very much. However, I would enjoy sampling even more of your charms. What else might you have a talent for, I wonder?"

I knew that he was not interested in my escapades as a tight end, at least when it came to football. I also doubted he wanted to know about my knack for making music with odd parts of my body or playing the ukulele. That left me with precious little with which to answer his question.

Looking away in embarrassment, I answered with a shrug. Viktor would not let me get away with hiding from him, even in such an innocent manner. He gripped my chin and turned my face back. His dark eyes were sharp but kind as they analyzed me.

"Have you ever explored any more than kissing?" he finally asked.

I bit my lip and shook my head, hating that I was disappointing him.

"Then you are untried?" he asked, one dark wing of his eyebrow raised.

I nodded, and regretted it immediately. I should have lied but I could not bring myself to be anything less than truthful with Viktor.

"Oh, you are a treasure," Viktor praised me with a delighted chuckle. "I believe that my plans for the evening have changed, but there is no reason why you cannot finish the evening off with a blast."

Before I could ask what he meant, his long elegant-fingered hand enveloped my cock. Startled, I froze, not knowing what to do. Then, his hand was moving and I was all instinct, my hips pumping restlessly into his hand.

He held me fast as he moved his fist up and back down my shaft. On the upswing, he would rotate his hand with a slight flick of his wrist, adding an extra bit of friction that was incredible. I arched into his grasp while he watched my face intently. I was too involved in what his hand was doing to me to be embarrassed by my uninhibited reaction.

I closed my eyes, savoring the sensation, and felt him shift lower on the bed. I was not expecting to feel his mouth kissing my stomach, sending butterflies fluttering through it. My mouth fell open as I panted for air. The boys and I had watched stag films one night while getting zozzled on homemade hooch. I didn't mind watching it because the Jane starring in the picture was a flapper. What got my attention was that she did this thing where she put her mouth on the guy's business. It had me ratcheted up on high for days. For a week I had to change my sheets every morning because I kept dreaming about someone doing that to me.

I was not expecting Viktor to be the one to make my dreams come true. I felt his breath first, caressing the tip, but I had not an inkling of what would come next. Without warning he took the tip, up to the ring below the mushroom cap, between his lips, evincing a strangled sob from me. His mouth was cool at first but warmed swiftly on my flesh.

At that moment, I was utterly lost, completely his, as his mouth worked certain magic on me. Shooting stars shot across my eyes as his mouth followed the same path that his hand had just occupied. He moved to settle between my legs to take me deeper in his velvet mouth and my legs opened in welcome.

My fingers dug into the coverlet, twisting it until I was afraid that it would rip. I heard myself repeating Viktor's name in a reverent hoarse whisper as if I were a scratched record.

His mouth moved lower, laving the tight velvet pouches between my legs. My body bowed upward so violently that he was forced to hold me down. His name came out in a choked scream, but that did not stop him from moving lower still. Hidden underneath the taut sacs was a secret mouth. He slid his hands underneath my buttocks and brought them around to grip the insides of my thighs, holding me firmly in place. Then he kissed the tight bud, thrusting his tongue deeply into that untouched orifice.

I bucked and bucked as the kiss went on. It was too much, but I could not get away. I could not make it stop.

Tears fell from my eyes as the intense sensations overpowered me. Viktor continued his debauched kiss, driving my body to the very brink of completion. I teetered there for long minutes, the blissful crisis just beyond my reach.

"Viktor!" I said his name as a plea, all coherencies escaping me.

Thankfully, he understood my dilemma. He quieted me with a soft hushing sound and then hooked my right leg over his shoulder while still holding my left one fast. He replaced his tongue with one long finger while his teeth grazed my inner thigh. I felt something lurch in my belly as if I had moved a step closer to what I needed.

He moved his finger inside me, stroking me while his mouth continued to play along the vulnerable skin of my thigh. The tension wound tighter, making my entire body tremble and animalistic sounds drop from my mouth. My head twisted back and forth with only one thought in my head--that I could not take anymore.

As if on cue, I felt Viktor's teeth sink into my skin, feeling as though my body had been struck with electricity. I yelped and then screamed as I convulsed over and over as pleasure detonated deep within me like TNT. Bright lights danced before my eyes as I came in hot spurts, until darkness overtook me.

I'm unsure how long I was unconscious. I awoke to the world swaying back and forth only to realize that I was being carried. My eyes fluttered open to gaze upon Viktor's handsome face as he held me in his strong arms. We entered one of his many guest rooms, this one decorated in red and gold. He laid me on the bed and pulled a red-and-gold-trimmed satin coverlet over my body.

"It is nearly dawn. Sleep well, Adam. I will see you on the morrow." He said softly before placing a tender kiss upon my brow.

I fell asleep with a smile on my face. My happiness was only slightly marred by the fact that Viktor was not beside me. But I slept deeply and for hours. When I woke, twilight was less than a few hours away.

Eagerly, I hopped out of bed and padded to the bathroom. My enthusiasm flagged a bit as I stood over the toilet and realized not only was I naked but I had nothing to wear. Washing my hands at the marble pedestal sink, which was shaped like a clamshell, I found a toothbrush still in its packaging. I tore the cardboard box open and then found some baking soda in the medicine cabinet above the sink. I might be naked but at least my mouth would be clean.

There was a huge claw-foot tub in the bathroom, making me long to take a soak in it. Unfortunately, I had no clothes, soap, or towels at hand. So, I went back into the room and looked around. My search turned up a closet full of men's clothes that looked as though they might fit me. I also found a wardrobe stocked with towels and toiletries. I gathered what supplies I needed and went into the bathroom to indulge myself.

The steaming water felt good, easing tense muscles. I leaned back, swirling a washcloth in the water before covering my face with it. As I relaxed, my mind wandered back to the previous night. It started with Viktor and all of the things he made me feel last night.

Until that night, I thought that I was a cold fish. No, that wasn't quite true. I was pretty sure that I was an Ethel, a fag, but was always afraid of testing the waters. I knew what happened to queers and I never wanted it to happen to me. Now there was no going back. There's no way I could get married and do the whole white picket fence thing, after having experienced Viktor's bed, but I was afraid of the alternative.

I tried to think of the many women I had liked and thoughts of Evania sprang right up. She was the oddest bird I'd ever met, which got me really thinking. She was strong for a Jane. She was able to lift me with one arm. That had not been my imagination last night. Or maybe it had; none of the servants seemed to notice anything strange. She had also given me to Viktor like I was a dog.

The oddest thing about last night, though, was me. I acted like a ragdoll, letting both of them do whatever they wanted to me. There had been times when I felt so heavy that I could not move a muscle. Whatever drug Evania had given me last night might have been the cause. Then again, Viktor had the most compelling eyes. He could be a mesmerist. He could have even made me believe that last night was real when it was not.

That bothered me in a way that I could not explain. I wanted that night with Viktor to have happened. As if I had opened up a floodgate, carnal images from last night rushed into my head. They left as quickly as they came, except for one: Viktor biting me as I climaxed. He'd bitten me hard enough to leave a mark and that was all the evidence I needed.

Getting out of the tub, I dried off in a hurry. I had just sat down on the toilet to inspect my thigh when I heard a knock at the bedroom door. I grabbed a robe from the armoire and belted it before answering the door. The bewhiskered butler from last night was standing there waiting patiently.

"Oh good, you are awake, Sir. I am Cael and I've come to inquire if you are hungry." He was very formal, and a limey.

"I.... Yes, I am hungry," I answered, suddenly famished. With surprise I realized that it had been almost a day since I last ate a meal.

"I will send you up something for lunch. Master Viktor asks that you be ready at seven. I will send up a valet with proper clothes to help you dress," Cael informed me.

"Be ready for what? What's happening?"

"He has a box at the Civic Opera House. I believe that he intends to attend tonight's performance." He finished with a bow and left, forestalling any more questions.

I shut the door and started pacing the room. My long legs ate up the carpet. I wished I knew what Viktor wanted from me. Or rather, how much he wanted from me. I knew how dames felt when they were trying to figure out if their beaus were on the level or just chiselers. I wanted to be more to Viktor than an object, a toy to be played with and later discarded.

Before I could get on the road to self-doubt, a maid and the valet arrived. The maid set out a meal fit for a king and left. While the valet hung up a set of evening clothes that were just as darb as the ones I had worn the night before.

I ate with gusto, while the valet waited impatiently. He seemed to calm a bit when he heard I had already bathed. But he wasted little time in getting started the minute I set down my fork. He shaved me and cut my hair, better than any barber could have, before getting me into that penguin suit complete with diamond cufflinks. I had to say that I cut quite a figure as I stood in front the mirror.

It was a few minutes before seven, and the valet was still gathering up his things when there was a knock on the door. I was being summoned to meet Viktor in the foyer. He watched me come down the grand staircase with an enigmatic smile on his face.

I drank him in. He looked incredibly handsome in his evening suit. While the crisp white shirt played off of his dark eyes and hair and his body looked fit underneath the tuxedo, I would rather see him naked.

I did not want to go out. I would rather he take me back upstairs to his big imposing bed and do more things to me, this time while we were both nude. He must have divined my thoughts somehow because I saw his eyes alight with a passionate flame. He took my hand and kissed the back of it lightly as he drew me to stand before him. From behind his back he drew a single red rose and pinned it to my lapel.

"Good evening," he finally said, brushing his lips against mine.

"G-good evening," I stammered, my lips tingling from his kiss.

"Do not look at me like that, pretty boy, or I will cancel my plans and do things to you for which I doubt you are ready." His voice had lowered an octave and it sent hot chills through me. Blushing, I turned my face away, causing him to chuckle.

"Come, we must go." He said, taking pity on me.

There was a Rolls-Royce Phantom waiting for us outside. I'd seen a few posters of the car but this was my first time seeing one with my own eyes. They had just started rolling off the assembly line a few weeks ago. This car was the cat's meow.

A driver held the door for us. Viktor allowed me to climb in first, so I had a good view of him climbing in after me. Watching him move reminded me of the big cats at the zoo, all fluid and grace.

"Where are we going?" I asked, distracting myself from his nearness and filling the uncomfortable silence.

"To view La Bohéme. I understand that they have secured Giovanni Verucci as the lead and I am eager to see his performance," Viktor replied. "Are you interested in the opera?"

"I enjoy it. Though, if the fellas on the team knew they would razz me all the time," I said, actually looking forward to the opera.

"I have a box at the opera house. You will be escorting Evania and one of her friends."

It was like he took a pin and deflated my good mood. He was not taking me out. We were double-dating, which meant that I would have to share his attention with two other people.

"Evania has asked this of me and I have agreed since she brought you to me," Viktor explained, demonstrating for the second time in less than an hour his uncanny ability to know what I was thinking.

His explanation lightened my mood, and I was able to speak with some enthusiasm about the operas that I had seen. I used to go with my mother all the time to help cheer her up after my father died. He was a doctor and they both came from money. So, while we missed him, we were at least in good financial shape, unlike many others.

As promised, Evania and another pretty young lady named Abigail were waiting for us at the opera house. Evania moved to my side and the young lady moved to Viktor's. I ignored the spark of jealousy that ignited when Abigail looked up at Viktor with obvious designs to make him her new sugar daddy. Instead, I turned to Evania with a charming smile and complimented her. She had eschewed her flapper getup for some swanky duds. She really did look very nice and appreciated the flattery.

Still, I was glad to go in and take our seats in the box. There were four seats, two lower and two upper. Somehow, we arranged ourselves so that the ladies sat in the front. Viktor said it was so they would both be able to see. I did not offer a single argument, liking the way the situation was panning out. The chairs were close together, and when Viktor sat down his thigh was pressed against mine. It made it hard for me to think of anything else but him, and I was not too put out by it.

Just after the second act, the ladies decided to go to the powder room. I offered to escort them but they declined. When they returned, Abigail looked a little pale. Evania apologized for her friend, who was not feeling well and wanted to go home. Again we offered to escort them, but Evania said there was no need for everyone to miss the performance. She knew how much Viktor had been looking forward to seeing it.

They were gone in a blink of an eye. I was quite relieved by the turn of events and leaned back in my seat, relaxed. That didn't last long because Viktor rested his hand on my knee a few minutes later, making it impossible to concentrate on the opera, especially when that hand started moving upward.

"Breathe," he whispered in my ear. I hadn't realized that my breath had gone short until he said it.

Inhaling and then exhaling, I tried to do as he ordered, but his thumb was tracing tiny circles up my thigh, interfering with my respiration. I was embarrassingly hard. I wanted to hide it, but his knuckles brushed against my arousal, making me jerk. He chuckled with the knowledge of how he had gotten to me. Opening my fly, he reached inside and took me in hand. I whimpered at the feel of his cool skin on my heated flesh.

Viktor gripped me tightly and started stroking me just like he had the night before. However, there was one big difference. We were in public and the terror of being caught added something phenomenal to the sensational experience. I had to fight to keep my lips sealed against the noises that seemed to well up from deep within me. I grabbed the sides of my chair, my knuckles turning white with my efforts to contain myself as the second act wound its way to the intermission.

A long soundless moan trembled upon my lips as his hands drove me to release and his mouth swooped down an instant before to capture the hot seed. He put my clothes to rights seconds before the house lights came on signaling intermission. I lolled in my seat, unable to move a muscle as Viktor fetched refreshments. I bent my head, pretending to study the program book and hiding my fiery face from any observers.

Viktor returned with apple juice and I downed both his and mine in quick thirsty gulps. When the lights went out, he kissed me tenderly before turning his attention back to the opera. It took some doing, but after a time, I was able to do the same.

I had to admit that Verucci was excellent in his role. I thoroughly enjoyed the production and was one of many who stood to give their ovation.

We headed to the Ritz for a late meal. The maître d' knew Viktor on sight and immediately escorted us to a private table near the back. He and our waiter fawned all over us, making the meal extremely enjoyable.

I don't quite remember what I ate (I was too busy staring into Viktor's eyes), but I know every morsel was delicious. He suggested that we go to a speakeasy instead of having dessert. I agreed, though I was wishing myself in his bed again. I was hoping to get him an edge and then take advantage of him while he was bent.

The Ritz was butted right up against another building. We took the stairs down to the basement of the hotel and walked down a few twisting corridors until we came to a big metal door. There were two big sixes in monkey suits, standing as guards. They looked like a couple of bruisers you wouldn't want to tangle with. They also knew Viktor on sight and told the guy behind the door to open it for us.

From the outside it had looked like a dump, but from the inside it was one swanky juice joint. There was a big band and a setup for jazz, too. The place was filled with all types; gangsters, molls, flappers, and swells. I glimpsed a guy I thought was Capone surrounded by dolls and torpedoes, but Viktor moved in the other direction and I hurried to follow him.

We went through another doorway that was also heavily guarded. This area was even ritzier and there were half-naked men and women all over the place. Viktor kept moving until we came to a private chamber with two swells and a dame all dressed to the nines. They were watching another woman dance like a whirling dervish, her lush body twisting and turning to an Oriental beat. She was quite accomplished and inflammatory. When she stopped, she kneeled, her bosom heaving before Viktor. I was surprised that he seemed to remain unmoved.

"Fatima, I need your attention for a moment." Viktor said holding out a hand to help her up.

She took what was offered, gracefully coming to her feet. Her skin held a hint of bronze and her eyes were golden. She, like Viktor, had an uncanny sharpness to her gaze that seemed to punch right through a guy. I was a little shaken when she turned that gaze on me. I felt naked in that instant before she looked back at Viktor.

"Who is this, Viktor?" Fatima asked with a nod indicating that she was asking about me.

"He is Adam, a gift from Evie. I need to know if he's suitable." Viktor replied moving toward a private table set in a far corner.

"I will need to sample him to find out," Fatima said, sitting between us.

A fleeting look came and went on Viktor's face, as if he'd tasted something bitter. It was obvious that he had not liked what Fatima said. The funny thing, though, was that I probably had the same look on my face. Fatima was a little too feminine for my taste and I doubted I would be able to fake any enthusiasm. Besides, after the previous night the only person I wanted touching me was Viktor.

Viktor signaled a waiter, who brought us a bottle of hooch. He poured the glasses and offered a toast. We all drank the shot. Then Fatima toasted and then I made one, each time slugging back a shot. The moonshine was pretty strong and my head was swimming by the third glass. Somebody had turned up the heat, so I loosened my tie and shirt after taking off my jacket.

Thirsty, I poured myself another shot. Viktor chuckled when I made a bit of a mess of it, taking the bottle away from me. I was a little surprised to see it almost empty. I didn't remember us drinking that much.

Viktor drew me up and into his arms. I stumbled a bit as he guided me to the dance floor. He kissed me once and we danced for a while. Being in his arms like that felt incredible, although everything was a little hazy.

We went back to Fatima after three songs. By that time, I was really feeling the giggle water. I was so corked that I kept tripping over my feet. I would have fallen flat on my face if Viktor had not been holding me up with his arm around my waist.

I saw Fatima smile at me through blurry eyes as I went to sit down but Viktor turned me so that I was sitting on the table. Viktor kissed me once before pushing me back to lie on the table. He moved to stand beside me, placing one hand on my chest. I smiled up at him and he smiled back. As hammered as I was, I still saw that the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Where should I take it from?" Fatima asked. The question made no sense to me, and neither did Viktor's answer.

"From the wrist, please," he said.

I felt a small, soft hand take my own while another rolled up my sleeve. I wanted to take a look-see at what Fatima was doing but Viktor's hand on my chest kept me from sitting up. She licked the inside of my wrist. It gave me the heebie-jeebies, but when I tried to jerk my arm away, I couldn't budge it.

Frightened, I said tremulously, "Viktor?"

He shushed me gently, but I didn't feel comforted.

"It's all right, Adam. It hurts so much more without the licking," he said. Again, I could tell that he was unhappy with whatever was about to happen.

There was a slight pinch and then it felt as though a lightning storm slammed into me. My vision turned white and I screamed as a cataclysmic orgasm tore through me. Then another one hit as bad as the first, and another one. They wouldn't stop. It was so much pleasure that it was close to pain. I looked toward Viktor, silently pleading for him to make it stop, but he only looked back at me with regret.

I woke the next morning feeling as though a mule had kicked me in the head after doing a do-si-do over my body. I ached all over and my stomach was doing somersaults. I just barely made it to the john before it tried to do a back-flip out of my body. Fortunately, it was empty, but I had to go through several dry heaves to find that out.

Gingerly, I crawled back to the bed and pulled the cover over my head. I was not ready to face the day yet. I couldn't remember ever getting as zozzled as I had the night before. Maybe if I slept for a decade, I would feel better. But sleep escaped me. Every time I drifted off, my stomach would throb or the room would spin. I was truly miserable.

I must have dozed, though, because I opened my eyes and Viktor was there. He put a cool hand to my forehead, looking concerned. I must have looked pretty bad. I heard him mutter something like, "She took too much," but I had not a clue what he was talking about. I don't know what kind of bathtub gin they were serving at that juice joint, but I was going to be a bluenose from now on.

Viktor helped me up so that he could get some orange juice spiked with headache powder down my gullet. I was dizzy and nauseated again, when I collapsed back onto the bed. Viktor left the room for a minute, but I paid him little mind. He came back a little later and sat back next to me. I mumbled thanks when Viktor covered my eyes with a cool, wet cloth. It felt heavenly.

After a while, I was actually feeling marginally better and could appreciate Viktor sitting next to me. Casually, I let my hand fall on top of his. I smiled when he left it there. It was a good sign, since I had developed a humungous crush on the man.

"Are you feeling a little better?" He asked, keeping his voice low.

"Yeah, yeah I am. I really tied one on last night." I replied, smiling at how froggy my voice sounded.

"Good. I'll have Cael bring you up something to eat."

I groaned. Just the thought of food had made my stomach go into its acrobatic routine earlier. Thankfully, this time it only gave a minor flutter in protest. Viktor used a rope pull to summon a servant, who answered in minutes.

I took the cloth off my eyes and watched Viktor walk back toward me. He was dressed casual, slacks and button-down, no tie. He looked as good in civvies as he did in his glad rags. Viktor was a real sheik. I mean he really had it.

My mouth watered just watching him, which is one of the reasons I was stuck on him. He was also a real stand-up guy, a swell but not a snob. I felt as though I could talk to him about anything and everything. We were comfortable together, and I wanted him to be my first, maybe even my one and only. I wish I knew how to tell him all that, but I was a stinking coward.

"He's perfect. His transition would put relatively little strain on him. The changes in his psyche would be negligible. And he is your perfect match, Viktor." I heard Fatima's voice in my head, a forgotten snippet from the previous night.

For a moment, I wondered whether or not I had dreamed that bit up, but there was something too realistic about it. My gut said that it was true, and if it really happened, I didn't have a clue what it meant. Well, except that Viktor and I belonged together somehow.

"Do you have classes tomorrow?" Viktor asked, reclaiming his seat on the bed next to me.

"Yes, Philosophy 304, eight a.m., Monday through Friday," I told him.

"You don't sound thrilled about that." Viktor smirked, hearing my less-than-enthusiastic tone.

"I am not an early bird. It's way too early in the morning to discuss topics like existentialism. I spend the rest of the day with a headache."

Viktor laughed outright at my acerbic tone and had a teasing sparkle in his eyes. I was grateful that a knock on the door interrupted him. I scurried off to the washroom to clean up a bit and brush my teeth, while he answered it. He was setting out a tray of food when I got back. Dry toast, chicken broth, and juice never looked so good, but I can tell you that they tasted even better.

Viktor sat with me while I ate, making small talk until I finished. I tried to offer him some food but he said he was still full from what he'd eaten earlier. He had a great time being my lady's maid. He would feed me soup and wipe my mouth, sometimes missing on purpose. He even kissed away a bit of juice that had trickled out the corner of my mouth. We laughed and played, but eventually Viktor grew serious.

"Evie will be here in an hour to take you back," he said, sadly.

"What if I don't want to go?" I asked, my mood coming down with a bang.

Viktor took in my sullen face and gave a long sigh before answering me. When he did I was unprepared for what he said.

"If I could get away with it, I would steal you away and keep you in my bed where no one would ever find you, but you have a future ahead of you and some choices you need to make. I have to give you a chance to make them. I'll miss you this week but I'd like for you to come back here Friday night."

"I can't. I have a game Friday night," I said wishing it was otherwise.

"How about after the game?" He countered.

"I'd like that but the fellas will want me to hang out with them for a bit and if I just go off with a dandy, I'll never hear the end of it," I said with real regret.

"Then, I'll provide a distraction. I really want you to spend the weekend with me."

"All right," I finally agreed, tired of putting up roadblocks between us. "I'd like that too. I'd also rather have you take me back than Evie."

"We both would, but it would be better if Evie did it. Your friends won't be as suspicious about you disappearing for an entire weekend if they think you've been trysting with a girl," Viktor pointed out.

He was right but I still didn't want to leave and I was definitely unwilling to wait almost a whole week before seeing or speaking to him again.

"Can't we meet sometime this week? Maybe we could meet for lunch," I suggested.

But he shook his head. "No, I usually can't get out during the day, but I will try to arrange something. Do you have a roommate?"

"No, the guy that was staying with me left mid-semester and they haven't found anyone to replace him yet."

"Good," Viktor said thoughtfully before adding, "You better get ready. Cael set your clothes from Friday on the chair over there."

He kissed me thoroughly and left the room without looking back. I felt bereft, but there was nothing I could do except get dressed. I wanted to go look for him once I was ready but I thought better of it. What if he didn't want to see me and got angry because I was being too clingy? I used to hate it when dames did that and could not get the hint.

When Evie arrived I was sitting on the steps waiting for her. I got in without a word and she gave me a cheery smile. I wasn't sure how I felt about her at the moment. I was both glad and mad that she'd kidnapped and then given me to Viktor. Glad because I thought that I would never find someone for myself and mad because it hurt so much to leave him.

Evie sensed my upset and began chattering like a blue jay. She could make a turnip smile. By the time we got back to campus I was actually able to crack a smile or two. Besides, I had never ridden in a breezer before and it was fun zipping down the road with the top down.

"Well, here we are, lover boy," she said with a grin.

"Here we are. Say, do you think you could let me drive this beauty some time?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the interminable days ahead of me.

"Yeah, why not? How about next weekend?" She laughed merrily before climbing over to straddle my lap. "I'll give you whatever you want, lover boy. You sure know how to show a girl a good time. How about giving me a little cash now and a check for later?" She purred before kissing me.

I kissed her back like an automaton. I didn't really want to kiss her but short of a fight I couldn't avoid it. I stood it for a minute or two, before something heavy thumped against the top of my thigh and I jerked my head back in shock. Only when I tried to pull away, I couldn't move her an inch. That super strength that I thought I had imagined because I was drugged was very real. Just as I was about to panic, she pulled back and smiled at a couple of guys walking down the path near the car. I nodded at the two, recognizing one of them from my history class.

Looking only slightly chagrined, Evania, or Evie as I was starting to think of her, slid back into her seat and said, "Au revoir, cheri. I will see you on Friday."

I hopped out of the car and headed for my room. The guys who had seen me with Evie had made a beeline back to the dorms, too. They told all the fellas about seeing me going hot and heavy with Evie in the parking lot, and everyone wanted to hear about it. I was an instant big shot, but I took the fifth when they begged for details. I told them that I did not kiss and tell. Always leave them wanting more.

I begged off when I could not take anymore, with the excuse of being worn out. That generated another round of back-slapping before I could escape to the privacy of my room. I did little more than throw my dirty clothes in a corner before collapsing in my bed, forgetting all about Evie as sleep overtook me.

The next few days flew past. I was so busy trying to catch up on all the studying I had skipped during the weekend, and we were approaching finals for the term, which meant the professors buried us under an avalanche of work.

My time was further taken up with football practice. It was the second to the last game of the season and the coach was working us like field hands. Yet, I could not go more than a few seconds without thinking of Viktor.

At least, that was true during the day. The nights, however, were completely different. Viktor lived in my head at night, especially in my dreams. That first night was a recurring theme, as was the speakeasy, though there seems to be more added to that dream with each telling.

Certain parts were always the same: the pain in my wrist, the unending orgasm, Viktor's worried eyes as he held me down. But in the dream I was better able to follow what was happening to me. I could feel my heart slowing, but by that time I was floating on a lake of bliss and didn't care enough to get scared.

I heard Viktor let out an expletive as he rushed around the table to pull Fatima away from me.

"You've taken too much," he yelled as he flung her away from me.

Feeling his hand on my wet wrist, I raised my head to see him lick the red stain off my skin. Fatima came crawling back, eyeing me hungrily, but Viktor gave her such a look that she kept her distance. I could understand why; he looked demonic.

A red glow burned deep in his eyes and his features had grown sharper and more predatory. When he dropped my wrist he looked as though he was about to hit her, but he turned back to me suddenly. I had started to pant from the pain making my chest tight. Viktor bit his own wrist and held it to my mouth. Something compelled me to drink from his wound. As I sucked at the warm coppery fluid hungrily, I could hear Fatima mewling at him.

"Sire, do not be angry. He tasted so good, I could not help myself. He is perfect, so perfect. You have no reason to fear making him one of us. His transition would put relatively little strain on him. The changes in his psyche would be negligible. And he is your perfect match, Viktor. It is as if he has been made for you. You'll see. Give him some of your blood and you will see," she said this time.