Crossed Blades

I stepped out of the locker and Matt saw me. "Hey, Harrison, you have a challenger who wants to cross blades with you, he said."

"Huh?" I said dumbly. There was no competition going just now, the finals had wrapped up last week. Nothing to do but study your moves and try to do better next year.

"Room 2." Matt thumbed the direction over his shoulder. "Said to show up unless you're a pussy." He smirked at that, a messenger who enjoyed delivering his message.

"Oh." I said, hopefully hiding my smile. "I guess I'd better go trounce the bastard, then, hadn't I?"

"Guess you'd better." Matt agreed and let me walk past him.

I stopped and adjusted my face mask and readied my sword. What I was about to face, I wasn't going to be caught off guard here!

Now, regular fencing isn't done like this. You have a director there to watch the bout, electronic devices hook the fencing foil to a scoreboard to record hits, you have to keep to a two-foot wide fencing strip. Proper fencing is a rigidly defined discipline filled with rules (called "right of way") to keep the game true to its heritage, there's nothing quite like it.

But then, this was nothing like proper fencing! I walked in and my opponent was waiting, and he gave a caterwauling howl and leapt at me! The blade he swung was a foil, but its wielder bore no grace or poise used in fencing, it looked more like one a pirate would use when wielding a blade on a foe while swinging on a rope onto the deck from the mainmast. He ran at me, the foil raised back to slice it at me.

Me, I dropped into fencing position prime and braced myself, parried the slashing foil aimed at me, we went corps-a-corps for a time, and then I managed to thrust his foil aside and whipped my foil up and stuck the point right into the heart-emblem on his chest!

What followed was the worst rendition of a man dying a horrible death you could imagine. I stood there and watched him as he clutched at his chest, mimed gathering his entrails up back into his stomach, made horrific gurgling sounds and went down first on one knee, then over onto his side, and ended up on his back with all four limbs up in the air, rigor-mortis!

I broke up about then, laughing hard while hanging onto my side, I leaned back against the wall and guffawed while my opponent rolled over onto one side, raised up on one elbow, the other arm gracefully draped, the legs poised just right, all laid out in the manner of a seductress.

"Gordo, that was the worst rendition of a man dying I've ever seen."

My opponent lifted up his face mask and took the mask off, revealing dark brown hair and an pair of mischievous eyes. "I thought it was pretty good."

"Well, you are an actor." I said, paused just long enough to let a smile start. "And a ham!" I said that last word loud as I could!

"What?" Gordon jumped to his feet, hoisted his foil again. "You dare to insult me, you varlet! Die like the scoundrel that you are!" And he darted at me again.

I was still up against the wall and he had me at a disadvantage. But hell, we weren't playing by the rules here, and I managed to parry his blow and hold his blade until I could get back onto the strip. From there it was a matter of using my superior fencing training, I figured I'd beat him handily.

Well, fencing is all fine if you pretend that these foils are real weapons, and that right-of-way is a method of protecting yourself from harm if the foil were real, but when you are tossing right-of-way out the window and treating the foil like a real blade by using it whomp at your opponent, all the training tends to tangle you up instead of helping! So I ended up with Gordo's foil pressed against my chest.

"Well?" Gordo said.

So I gave a brief "Gurk!" sound and slid as gracefully down to the floor as I could, and ended up sprawled.

"Hmm." Gordo was over me and considering this. "A little short for the theater, but not bad. For an amateur!" that last word as loud as I'd delivered "ham."

I just laughed. "Come down here and say that." I challenged him as I lifted my own mask up.

Gordo laughed. "I thought you'd never ask." he said. "You didn't think I came in here to fence, did you?"

"The costume did make me wonder." I pointed out as he knelt down, fumbling at his pants. There is no fly in these fencing pants, you have to pull the whole thing down to do your business. Gordo peeled his off entirely. He saw me working on mine and helped me, peeling those white pants up my legs and tossing them over his head. His grin was wide and uncomplicated, just like Gordo. Go for the gusto, live in the moment. After six months of being lovers with the guy, he was beginning to lose the ability to surprise me...much. The ability to turn me on with his inventiveness, though, was still going strong!

Gordo knelt over me and fed me his dong then leaned down to take mine in turn. This was his game of the day, I'm not sure how he finagled things with the fencing instructors and staff to get us this room for his little ambush and such, but I wasn't worried about it. I just scarfed down his pud, feeling that eight inches of nineteen-year-old theater major dong slide down my throat like an old friend. Gordo gave me the moan he always does when I first take him down, a delicious sort of "mmmm!" around my own cock that make me thrill and a flutter in my stomach. Live in the moment, love the moment, let it last...that was Gordo's philosophy and I was getting into it the more time I spent with him. Two young men in love...what did we have to worry about?

Gordo's prod was warm as bread fresh from the oven, as soft as velvet on the outside, as hard as steel on the inside, and it was mine, all mine! Salty inspiration dripped into my mouth as I plied my lips and tongue over its length, all the divine rapture of lovemaking playing in my brain, feeling the thumping of his heart upon my stomach as mine thudded against his, feeling the luscious loving lips as they danced around my shaft and brought out the joy like the flowers opening to the spring sunshine, spreading their petals in ecstasy, drinking in more, more, more, oh, God, more!

How can Gordo tell when I'm getting too hot too fast? I don't hear myself change anything, I'm just groaning like I always do, and yet every time, he catches me at this moment and selects just how he wants me to come...and when!

So Gordo, with whatever extrasensory perception he uses, stopped sucking me and said, "Now, now, Harry, we'll have none of that. I beat you fair and square, you know, so to the victors belong the spoils. Or in this case, he gets the shaft!"

Gordon got over me and straddled and squatted. God, the man moves so damned fast on these things, it's all I can do to keep up with him! Not that I had to do anything this time but hold still! And Gordo's body lowered onto my cock, there was the briefest bobble as he made contact and had to adjust, and then the warmth of his sphincter clamped onto my glans and yawned slowly as Gordo pressed downwards.

"Aw, hell, Gordo!" I gasped. "You sure nobody's coming in here on us?" It wasn't like we had a lock on the door or such here, anyone who wondered about this room was going to get an eyeful!

"Don't worry, stud." Gordo assured me. "I got both your teachers to sign off on this little assignation, we are not to be disturbed for the entire hour."

"How did you do that?" I gasped, for his anus, now past the dilated entrance, was slipping down over my prod.

"Promised them parts in the next play. Our last one of the year, and no problem, we need some real swordsmen to fill out the parts of town guards battling it out with us brigands."

"Oh." I said, understanding. Fencing is a sport almost unique in that almost nobody wants to see the contestants perform. That right-of-way thing again, you can get interrupted while your coaches and the director argue points of form and if the hit you just made counts or not, and there are the lights, triggered electronically upon contact, you'd think they'd settle all arguments, but they don't. So unless you're a trained fanatic, the sport can be rather tedious when you're not actually out there on the field. Until the day someone comes up with a full-body version of the foil-sensor, if then, you won't be watching fencing bouts on any of the networks. So fencing enthusiasts are starved for attention and a chance to display their prowess. A part in a play with swords and a chance to show off? I'm surprised they didn't offer to give Gordon the entire fencing team, strapped down, naked and pre-oiled for him to play with! Not that Gordo would have accepted if they had; he's my man!

And now Gordo was on his knees and humping up and down on my dong, my God, the raw energy he puts into living! He can build sets all morning, rehearse all afternoon and party late into the night and still make an early-morning cattle-call. I would have thought it was cocaine or such, but I knew him too well. It's just his joy de vivre and teenaged drive, you can't beat it for raw power.

And power was what he laid into me as he bounced, his cock waggling at me and I caught it and gave it a couple of friendly whacks before he knocked my hand off. "Don't." he panted. "I'm too close. I want to come when you do."

"Just keep doing that, then." I said and laid back, put my hands on his thighs and watched my stud-lover move. The fencing costume was only the latest of several, Gordo had a sizeable closet full of costumes all made to his order, whether he had borrowed this one or just added it to the collection, I had yet to find out, but it fit him well. The clothing is designed to hold close to your body, as a tap on the cloth with a foil can trigger the light and cause an argument, and it clung to him like butter and shone like the gown of an angel hovering over me, except the face that leered down at me was pure devilishness incarnated, Gordo loved making me come, he said when I shot my wads, I looked like a cross between a young Tom Cruise and Leonardo DiCaprio. Flattery was not one of Gordo's weaknesses (not that I ever interrupted him when he got going). Anyway, Gordo enjoyed looking me right in the eyes when I came so I looked at him and he looked at me and he rode my cock like a master and my passion built.

My hands began to clench on his thighs, my orgasm was approaching fast. "Getting close, Gordo." I said.

"Yeah, Harry, come on, blast that cream up in me." Gordo panted. He knows I like to hear him talk dirty right at the end. "Pump that heavy load of your man-juice in me, God, I need to fill it spurting up inside me, I want that juice, Harry, come on, give it to me, you blast that load, come on, cream me, man, cream my ass but good, stud, come on, come on, come on...."

Those words were timed to my own groans and grunts, as they sped up, so did Gordo and when he started chanting "come on" like that, I was already knocking at the Pearly Gates with ecstasy, and I grabbed his cock and I whomped it and said, "Here...I...come!"

And as I hit my orgasm, as my cock squirted up into his thrashing body, Gordo gave out a keening cry and he ejaculated right onto my fencing vest! God, the heavy splats of jizz were like lightning strikes on my body, I felt the heat (I didn't, but it seemed like I did) of the spunk as it peppered my chest, I moaned as I shot my wads up into Gordo's clutching buttocks and my fingernails dug into his thighs, hard! Gordo gasped, cried out in pain and pleasure as I felt the pellets of blood on my fingertips and, contrite even in my glory, I let him go and sprayed my last jets of jism up into him, then to lie limp and gasping under him as the last droplets of his own man-juices dribbled out onto my abdomen and clotted my pubic hair into white-capped clumps.

Gordo's dong slapped my stomach as he leaned over to rest himself on top of me, and our bodies clung together as we sought our breath again and then Gordo caught my face in his hands and he kissed me, long and slow and sweet.

I managed a weak smile. "God, Gordo, you are one crazy fucker, you know that?"

"I thought I did it pretty good." Gordo responded.

"I didn't mean that." I said and tapped his nose with my fingertip, it brought away a bead of his sweat when I did that. "I meant you setting all this up. Jesus, if I had tried this, I would have muffed it up for sure. How do you get away with this, anyhow?" Our privacy remained uninterrupted and I didn't doubt it would stay so until the agreed hour was up. Gordo's plans never went astray on him.

"Confidence." Gordo said to me. "Your problem, Harry, is that you need to learn to grab the moment and run with it. You run fast enough, everyone goes along with you because you don't give them time to think of anything else to do. Besides, this time, I had an ulterior motive."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Our play." Gordo said. "We really do need people who know how to wield a sword. And to teach our main actors how to use a sword, they're supposed to all play swordsmen and none of our leads have ever even fenced before." Gordo had taken a beginner's class the prior semester in which I had been an assistant instructor, it was how we had met. "Can I draft you for a few impromptu lessons, enough to keep everyone from laughing at them when they fight on stage?"

"Well." I said. "I guess so on one condition."

"What's that?"

"If I see a pirate costume or such on stage that I like." I said. "You have to use your wiles to borrow it long enough for another one of these little games of ours."

Gordo just grinned. "That's what I like about you, Harry. It's a pleasure doing business with you." Which in his case, was putting it literally!

I gave a squirm to let our cocks brush against each other. "Well, you can cross blades with me anytime."

THE END
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