Brad checked his gear one more time. While he didn’t expect the cave to be especially cold, exposure to any water inside could bring on hypothermia. Over his lightweight fleece under-suit, made to drain and dry quickly, he wore a protective oversuit made of abrasive-resistant material. A helmet with a mounted light and sturdy canyon boots protected his head and feet. His equipment included water-proof flashlights, batteries, camera, climbing ropes, and all manner of devices meant to help a climber descend and get back up. Everything was in working order—checked and double-checked. Some people might call him a lunatic, but there was no place else he’d rather be than crawling through this hole in the side of a mountain.
The temperature started to warm up as the sun climbed higher on the eastern horizon. Brad took one last look at the glowing ball in the sky, then turned his back to it, lowered himself to his hands and knees, and crawled into the darkness. Flipping on the light mounted to his helmet, he went straight to the hole he’d enlarged on his previous visit. Brad crawled through the tunnel and emerged in the chamber where he got to his feet.
Expecting the drop ahead, Brad moved cautiously. The beam of his headlamp helped him find the pit, and he stared over the edge into a deep black void. This was as far as he’d come last time. Today he was going down. His heart hammered against his ribs. A little bit of fear was healthy.
He was starting to anchor his climbing rope when he heard a sound that didn’t belong.
Brad’s head swiveled and he peered into the darkness behind him. A blur of movement outside the beam of his lamp caught his eye. He turned toward it and a sudden pressure on his back shoved him into the dark void.
Cool air rushed past him, stealing his breath. When his scream finally escaped, it echoed off the rocks, faded, and died away. His arms flapped helplessly as his hands reached out for nonexistent holds. His guts rose toward his mouth, and his heart sank to his stomach. All this couldn’t have taken more than a few seconds, but to Brad it seemed like an eternity—a slow motion horror movie that he did not want to star in.
A cold, wetness swallowed him and broke his fall. Despite the water cushion, his body took a jolt from the force of the impact and his head buzzed under the helmet. His light went out and darkness closed over him like a heavy wool blanket. He felt like he was suffocating.
For a long minute, paralysis stilled his limbs and he couldn’t move. Then a tingling started in his fingers and he was able to reach up to play with the headlamp until the light came on. Overwhelmed with relief, Brad let out a deep breath and pulled himself out of the shallow pool.
Don’t get too cocky, son, you’re in a world of shit here.
Didn’t he know it? His head hurt along with every bone in his body. Lying on the rubble floor, he waited for the dizziness to stop, and then tried to move his arms and legs. Nothing appeared to be broken, but there was no time to rejoice over being alive. He rolled over onto his back, and the beam from the headlamp revealed a depressing sight. His dark limestone dungeon had slippery walls of flowstone that would be impossible to climb without a rope. Suddenly the cave started closing in on him. His pulse sped up, and he gulped air.
Get a grip, Brad! If the cave doesn’t kill you, panic will.
Good advice. Being alone in the dark could play with a person’s mind. His best chance of getting through this was to stay calm and think rationally. First off, how did this happen? Brad had been caving for years, and he’d planned this trip down to the last detail. Still, nobody was perfect. Brad wouldn’t be the first person to get into trouble caving. Accidents happened all the time. But was this an accident? He could swear he’d felt the pressure of a hand pushing on his back. He tried to replay the events in his head and it always came out the same—somebody wanted him dead. It could only be one person—the one who’d buried the flash drive. Could those meaningless numbers really be worth something? Enough to kill for? The thought chilled him more than his fall into the water. He needed to start climbing out of this pit, but one look up at the ledge and he knew that wasn’t happening.
Sheer walls encircled him. He was at the bottom of a limestone prison. Unclimbable. Suddenly Brad couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. His heart bounced in his chest, and the chamber started revolving around him. Everything went dark.
Brad sat straighter and moved to the edge of his seat. “Come here, Mace.”
His nakedness didn’t bother him, but feeling like a stupid freak sure did. His erection deflated like a popped balloon. Nervous and more anxious than he’d ever been in his life, Mace stood in front of Brad’s spread legs.
Brad placed a hand on his hip while his other hand cupped Mace’s balls. Mace shuddered at Brad’s soft touch and his cock twitched with interest, but he had no idea what to do or how he was supposed to react.
“Just relax and let me do all the work,” Brad reassured him.
Can he read my mind?Mace tried to stand still and not squirm as he watched Brad unscrew the top from the bottle. Brad warmed more oil between his palms and then wrapped a hand around Mace’s half-hard cock. It swelled and stiffened as Brad moved his hand slowly down the shaft. When he reached the ridge of the head, he stopped. “You’re a big boy, Mace.”
Mace swallowed hard. Brad’s gentle touch excited him just as it had in the shower. Sex between men was supposed to be quick and humiliating, but with Brad, Mace felt wanted, and worthy of all the attention. But would Brad act the same if he knew I wasn’t a real man? A few more strokes from Brad’s big, warm palm and Mace couldn’t think anymore. He just wanted to feel…
Brad’s hand slid over the head of Mace’s cock, smearing the fluid that leaked from the slit with the oil before sliding back down his shaft.
Mace’s eyes fluttered shut.
Brad pumped a few times and then stopped.
Oh, god, Brad. Don’t stop now.
“Open your eyes, Mace. Look at me.”
Mace obeyed immediately. He stared into Brad’s eyes and waited to hear what he’d done wrong.
“Does this feel good? Do you want more?”
Mace’s eyes opened wide. He’d been expecting criticism. “Yes, please.”
“Good. ’Cause I really don’t want to stop. But tell me if you don’t like something. Okay?”
“I like every—” Mace’s words turned into a gasp as Brad’s hand started moving again, this time in a steady rhythm.
Brad hummed appreciatively as Mace’s erection grew bigger and more rigid. A few more strokes and Mace felt his balls draw up tight. A weird tingling sensation started in his groin and spread warmth throughout his body. A moan escaped his throat. His legs went rubbery and his heart pounded against his ribs. His penis throbbed, his ass muscles clenched, his toes curled…
“Oh, oh, oh…” The rest of his words were lost in an earth-shattering explosion as his hips arched forward and he let go. Long streams of cum splattered against Brad’s chest. Immersed in sensation, Mace wanted to hang on to these amazing feelings forever. All too soon, Brad removed his hand, and Mace opened his eyes. The patterns of cream splattered on Brad’s chest fascinated him. He followed the swirls up, and—
Brad was licking at the milky fluid that had landed on his face.
I’ve made such a mess of things.
“I, uh…I’m sorry…” Mace’s face burned. He looked down at his toes.
“Hey.” Brad reached out and grabbed his hip. “Don’t be sorry. I love a cum facial.”
Mace knew men swallowed that stuff, and he’d often wondered what it tasted like. Brad was smiling, so he must like it. “Mace’s face burned. He looked down at his toes. But curiosity won out over embarrassment. “What does it taste like?”
Brad let out a groan. “Oh, man. You’re gonna drive me crazy.” He grasped his own cock and tugged. “Keep it up and you’ll find out pretty quick.”
Does Brad want to give me a facial? God, he hoped so. “If you touch me I think I’ll go off like a rocket.” Brad was looking up at him hopefully.
Mace knew what Brad wanted. He wanted it, too. In fact he was more than anxious to feel the slide of Brad’s flesh in his palm, and the taste of Brad’s fluid on his lips. But what if I hurt him? Mace pushed his doubts aside. Dr. Shepard had lied to him about so many things. Maybe he’d lied about sex, too. To hell with the doctor! It was time to make his own decisions. And right now, more than anything else, he wanted to please Brad, only one other thing stopped him. He’d never done this before. Feeling like a fool, Mace got to his knees between Brad’s legs. Brad must have sensed his embarrassment, because he took Mace’s hand and placed it on his cock. Mace wrapped his fingers around Brad’s shaft. It felt strange. The only cock he’d ever had in his hand was his own soft penis, and that was when he was peeing or washing his body in the showers. Brad’s penis was a little shorter than his, but just as thick. Mace ran his thumb over a prominent vein along the shaft. Then he cupped Brad’s lightly furred sac and squeezed gently.
Brad moaned, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes. Mace looked up, startled.
“Don’t stop.” Brad’s breathing grew ragged.
I must be doing something right.