An Unusual Icebreaker


Raymond Doyle kicked open the front door, then made straight for the second floor, leaving the lackeys downstairs to Susan, Charlie and Anson to deal with. He noted Jax had followed him and thought "Sorry, mate," though this was hardly the day for regrets.

Chandler Baines had finally overstepped herself. She and her drug dealing minions were bound for the nick for many a year to come. Mostly due to the work of Doyle's partner. William Andrew Philip Bodie had been the inside man on the op, his tipoff leading to one of the biggest drug busts in years.

Those caught in the net had copped on Baines, leaving only the final lovely mop up to do. Bodie'd made only one request of his partner if things happened to lead to a raid on the mansion -- get to the master bedroom first

It seemed Baines had some rather kinky tastes and Bodie didn't want to take any chances of being caught out by anyone but his partner -- and he seemed more than a little apprehensive of that.

Doyle'd given it a go, but there wasn't much he could do if a mate decided to back him up. Bodie's famous luck saved the day on that point. Baines came hurtling out of the far room, all indignant outrage cloaked in an elegant red silk robe. He let Jax deal with her -- a pleasure he'd normally have insisted on himself -- and went to the bedroom she'd abandoned.

His eyes practically popped out of his head at what he found. A nearly naked Bodie lay face up on the bed, his wrists and ankles fastened to the four-poster frame by leather restraints matching the gag buckled around his head. That was sight enough to keep conversation going in the rest room for weeks to come, but the crowning glory was the only article of clothing adorning the powerful body -- a delicate pair of blue satin panties trimmed with lace.

Doyle knew he should be laughing his head off, instead he froze in the doorway, his mouth going dry, with only the snugness of his jeans preventing his cock from leaping to attention.

A few muffled, unintelligible words by Bodie snapped him out of his immobility, if not his arousal, and he closed the door behind him -- only vaguely registering his fingers had tripped the lock as well.

Slowly, he walked towards the bed, trying to tell himself he wanted to free his partner. But when he reached him, Doyle could only stand there staring down at Bodie. His hand reached out and stroked an alabaster thigh. "Quite a sight you are, mate," he whispered, his voice hoarse as his fingers moved to touch satin. The ample groin began to swell, straining against it's delicate covering.

It was too much for Doyle. He dropped to his knees, then nuzzled the cool cloth and the throbbing heat beneath it.

Bodie whimpered and his hips lifted as much as the restraints would allow, giving Doyle all the encouragement he needed.

One hand fumbling with his zipper, he used the other to pull the panties down enough to free Bodie's cock. He licked his lips at the sight, gave his own bared erection a squeeze, then took Bodie's straining organ into his mouth. He only had the knowledge of what he liked himself to guide him, but Bodie's moans indicated the licking and sucking of Doyle's mouth pleasured him. Doyle ached to fuck him, but he settled with sliding first one finger, then two inside the squirming body, trusting them in and out with the same rhythm as his sucking.

Bodie exploded into his mouth, the force of it almost gagging Doyle, but the taste of him was too glorious to allow such a blasphemy, and he managed to swallow every drop. Just one more stroke of his hand on his own flesh sent Doyle's seed splattering against the side of the bed.

Only then did the magnitude of what he had done sink in. Appalled he leapt back from the bed. He started to turn and run, but he couldn't leave Bodie like this.

His fingers shaking, he unfastened each of the restraints, expecting painful death or at least a broken bone with each freed limb, he instead found himself staring down at his no longer bound, but unmoving partner. Alarmed, he touched Bodie's cheek above the gag and whispered, "Bodie?"

The blue eyes swept open, then slowly Bodie lifted his arms, holding them out to reach for Doyle. He saw no anger in Bodie's eyes, nor a threat in the languid movements of his sated partner, so Doyle risked moving into the offered embrace.

He nuzzled Bodie's neck, reaching behind the dark head to unfasten the gag. He didn't know what Bodie would say as he threw it aside, but never in his wildest dreams did he think he'd hear, "Bloody hell, Doyle, if I'd known you'd do that, I'd have bought myself a pair of satin knickers years ago."

Doyle blinked. "You wanted? .... Years ago?" Bodie kissed him, then asked, "If I get a matching bra, do you think you could get your cock up my arse instead of your fingers?"

A positive giggle bubbled up from inside Doyle, and he gave Bodie's throat a quick kiss. "Tell you what, sweetheart. You pull your trousers on over those panties, and I promise you I'll fuck you through the bleeding floor when I get you home."

"In that case. ..." Bodie reached down, adjusted the panties, then got out of the bed. He made a show of slowly drawing on his trousers. That done, he dressed with speed, perhaps sussing they'd both been pushing their luck to terrible extremes, then he stood by the door waiting for Doyle.

He joined Bodie, then took him into his arms and kissed him deeply and thoroughly. "Hope you've got a lot of drawer space, sunshine," he muttered when their lips parted.


Doyle's hands reached down and squeezed the cheeks of Bodie's arse. "Going to go shopping tomorrow. Buy you ever sexy bit of satin and lace I can find."

Bodie blushed, but said, "You buy them, I'll wear 'em. But only for you."

"Damned right, only for me," Doyle growled, gave Bodie's bum another pat, then Cowley's best team went out the door and back to work.

-- THE END --

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