Night Flyer

by Temple Madison

  Now, as he walked into his room and began taking off his clothes to prepare for bed, he looked at himself in the mirror. If a man could hate his own reflection, Deuce did. Beneath his black garb he hid a muscled chest, six-pack abs, and a cock that stretched out to ten hard inches when he was excited. His hair was sinfully long, and dark. It fell down along the side of his face, almost hiding his eye on one side. It was a mysterious look, a look that in the old days had made many men cower in their shoes, especially if that look was filled with fiery anger. His beard wasn’t that heavy, so he usually neglected it except when he had to perform a mass, a baptism, marry someone, bury the dead, or hear a sinner’s confessions.

  Finally turning away from the mirror, he reached for his pajamas, but his hand stopped in midair. Suddenly he’d had enough. He wanted some fresh air—God, he had to have some fresh air or he might choke to death. Besides, his day was over, so why shouldn’t he be able to take a harmless walk? Making up his mind, he grabbed a pair of pants, a shirt, a jacket, and put them on before slamming out of the church and heading for the less traveled parts of town where wet dirt, alcohol, and illicit sex replaced the smell of candle wax, furniture polish, and the cloying scent of sandalwood.

  Hurrying along a path that led him away from the church, he walked, almost ran, until he found the street where people, other than religious types, were, and he mingled with them. Without his priestly garb no one would even guess who he actually was, and it made him feel free, almost as if he could breathe again. As he passed bars, he slowed down and looked in. He stopped and looked at the posters on the outside of theaters. He observed those around him. The rough types, the romantics, and even those he pegged as gay, like himself.

  When his edgy nerves had begun to calm down, and he’d started to think everything was going to be all right, he suddenly felt a hard object pressing into his back. He moved to turn around, but was stopped when he heard a guttural voice speak.

  “Don’t move, creep, and give me your wallet,” the voice said.

  “I…I d-don’t think I want to do that.”

  “Oh, you don’t, huh? Well, you’d better, or else.”

  “Look, if you’re hungry, maybe I can help you.”

  The mugger gouged Deuce with his gun, causing him to wince in pain. “What the hell’s the matter with you? I got a fuckin’ loaded gun on you, mister, and I want your money. Is that clear enough? Now give.”

  Deuce turned around as if he were unafraid, seeing a dark face lost in the shadows of a hoodie. “You won’t get away with this, you know.”

  “What the hell? Turn back around, you idiot. You’re not supposed to see me.”

  “I never have been one to play by the rules. You’re going to be caught, you know. Why don’t you just give yourself up before that happens?”

  The mugger looked around nervously. “I happen to know the cop that patrols this area, and he’s on the other side of town tonight. Now, he might be tough, and he might be fast, but even he can’t be in two places at one time. Now, give it up or you’ll be eatin’ lead.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  The mugger looked at him as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you crazy? I’ll shoot you.”

  “No you won’t. If you do, the blast will attract all kinds of attention, and people like you don’t want to attract attention. You do all your dirty work in the dark. Unnoticed, sneaking around like a bug in the dark.”

  “I don’t have to shoot you, I can make you disappear some other way.”

  “How about we make you disappear instead?”

  They both looked toward the voice just in time to see a man mysteriously step from out of the shadows. Even though he seemed normal in every sense of the word, when he reached up and grabbed his shirt and pulled it apart, suddenly there was a windstorm that seemed to come out of nowhere. His body changed before their very eyes, causing Deuce to wipe at his eyes to make sure he saw what he thought he had. But when he looked again he saw another man—or was it the same man? Maybe. But there was something different about this man. He had the words Night Flyer blazing across his chest. Was he bigger, stouter? Did he seem—almost heroic? He could easily see him upon the screen dressed in a Superman suit and saving the city from creeps like the one holding his gun on him. Now, without an ounce of fear in him, he stepped in front of Deuce and shielded him like a stone wall. It was as if he were daring the mugger to challenge him. When Deuce peeked out from behind him he couldn’t help but feel a thrill pass through his body as he saw him take a threatening step toward the mugger.

  The mugger’s gun hand trembled, and with a voice Deuce knew meant he wasn’t kidding, he said, “You take one more step toward me, and I’ll shoot. I mean it.”

  But the Night Flyer didn’t stop.

  Deuce watched as the mugger began backing up, his gun hand trembling, and with a voice that shook, he said, “I mean it. I’ll shoot.”

  “And risk being found out? Like the man said, people like you crawl around in the da…”

  Before he could get his words out, suddenly the mugger shot, over and over again, but the bullets bounced off the hero’s chest and fell onto the concrete.

  “Will you stop that?” the Night Flyer said, grabbing the gun away from him. “With those bullets flying all over the place you’re going to hit someone.”

  “Oh, my God,” the mugger bellowed, and turned and ran.

  The Night Flyer quickly turned to Deuce, and said, “Are you okay? Did he take anything?”

  “Uh…actually, n-no. I…I…those bullets just bounced off you.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, thanks to you.” Deuce put out his hand in friendship. “I’m Deuce Gannon, the pr…” He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t tell the man that he was a priest at Sacred Heart. Tonight he just wanted to be any old Joe out walking the streets for a breath of fresh air. “I mean, I was just out for a walk this evening, and ran into our friend there.”

  “This is not a very good neighborhood to be walking around in, Mr. Gannon.”

  “Deuce, please.”

  “Next time you feel like walking, I would suggest you stay in well-lit areas. Areas like this are a mugger’s dream.”

  “Yes, of course. Thank you.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before. I mean, outside a poker game.”

  “It’s just a name I acquired from a bunch of hoodlums I used to play cards with.” He looked at the name on the shirt the man was wearing, and said, “Night Flyer.” He looked up at him. “Is that you? Sounds like a superhero.”

  “It’s the name of my plane, the Night Flyer. I’m a pilot.”

  “Oh, I see. So you’re not a superhero, or anything.”

  The Night Flyer smiled indulgently. “Superheroes are for comic books, Mr. Gannon. I’m just…well, for now, just call me Gabe. Gabe Wesley.”

  As Deuce looked at Gabe, he thought of the finely-carved Michelangelo statue. His nose was perfectly symmetrical, his lips slightly full, and ended in a cute little smirk at the corners. The lights of the city blinked on his face, highlighting his strength and heroic charm. Deuce had an irresistible urge to lick his lips as he thought of what they might taste like. Midnight sex, maybe, all mixed up with a spicy cologne that drifted on the night air. His eyes were the color of blue dusk. So strong, and daring. His hair was like deep waves that he wanted to ride. He could tell that he was a strong individual, but his touch was soft and gentle, yet strong and seductive. He wanted to feel his hot breath as it left his mouth, and brushed the side of his neck. Nothing could be quite as exciting as that.

  “I feel I owe you something. Could I buy you a drink?” Deuce asked.

  “I don’t drink.” A heavy silence fell between them, so he went on to explain. “Don’t get me wrong. I used to, but I found myself getting too fond of it, you might say, and I cut myself off from it immediately. From that day on it�
��s been coffee, soft drinks, or just plain old water.”

  “You left out milk,” Deuce said teasingly.

  “Sorry, no milk. Can’t stand it. Maybe as a child, but I’m a big boy now.”

  “You sure are,” Deuce said as he looked him over from top to bottom. “I am wondering, though, why you thought you had to explain that to me. You either drink, or you don’t. No problem.”

  “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t want you getting the wrong picture of me. I mean, I’m no goody-two shoes by any means. I like to sin as much as the next guy, but addiction is no fun. Whether it’s sex, alcohol, or drugs.”

  As they began walking and talking, Deuce kept cutting his eyes toward this awesome-looking guy who admitted—he liked to sin.

  Chapter 3

  BY this time it seemed as if the whole world was talking about the Night Flyer. Was he real, or as the name implied, just a ghost? He seemed to appear from out of nowhere, from shadows, from the gloom of night. One would turn around, and he would be there. People had seen bullets bounce off his chest, they’d seen him fly, leap long distances. He’d be one place, and suddenly he was somewhere else. He darted, sprang, soared, and shot upward into the sky. Some had even seen him climb along buildings like a bug.

  It was scary, and exciting, at the same time.

  The news stayed full of his latest exploits, but to get a picture of him wasn’t so easy. He moved too fast, and he seemed to want to move around in secret. If he was real, who was he, and where did he keep himself during the day, because once night came, and the bullies, creeps, thugs and killers came out, the Night Flyer wasn’t far behind.

  Deuce, along with everyone else in the city sucked up all the information he could regarding the Night Flyer, but unfortunately, after meeting him he couldn’t help thinking of Gabe naked, in bed, or starring in any number of illicit scenes that played through his mind.

  It was true. He’d fallen in love, but it was a forbidden love.

  Now, after several moments of Gabe’s face and body haunting him, he looked down at his watch, and discovered that it was almost time for confessions to start. This caused Deuce some discomfort. Since he was a sinner himself he didn’t feel clean enough to officiate in this, but to refuse would bring questions, and the nature of his sin was such that he didn’t dare reveal it. Because of this he had no one to call on, and his sin remained hidden. Now, as he stepped into the empty confessional, he did the best he could to prepare himself, beginning with lowering himself to his knees, giving the sign of the cross, and praying.

  “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned…” Suddenly he couldn’t go on. He felt an ache in his groin, and his thoughts filled with a man whose image taunted him. Feeling his hand take on a life of its own, he reached down, and began to dig out his cock. It shamed him, but he couldn’t resist.

  “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned…” he kept saying as he began rubbing himself hard, and fast while he closed his eyes. As he breathed heavily, upon the dark screen of his mind was the image of a man with the words Night Flyer written across his chest. With every imagined plunge he made into his ass, he got more and more excited until he spurted into his palm.

  The guilt that came afterward weighed down on him so heavily it was almost unendurable. He couldn’t keep it up. He had to do something. He couldn’t continue his liaisons in the confessionals. He didn’t go in there to sin, but to pray and help others, but every time he was alone in the warm, intimate setting, he was unable to resist the temptation of the flesh. He knew he wasn’t a good priest, but he tried to keep his relationship with God real. God knew he was human, and could even forgive him for that, but what he might not forgive Deuce for was masquerading as a man of God instead of being honest with everyone.

  That night, after his duties had all been performed, and it was time for him to retire to his room, he tried to put his experience with Gabe out of his mind, but he couldn’t. He found himself ripping off his collar, and changing into his casual clothes again. He walked, he looked, and he hung around in the gay bars. He got lots of invitations, but he refused them all. He was looking for one man, and knew if he walked the streets long enough he’d find him, and he did. But now, he had a plan—and it included getting Gabe Wesley into bed.

  * * * *

  Later that same night…

  “Well, here we are,” Gabe said as they stood on the walkway of a nice, modest apartment building.

  Deuce looked around. “So this is where you live, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Gabe looked down at his watch. “Got to hit the sack. Big day tomorrow.”

  “What about the streets? Won’t they be unprotected?”

  Gabe gave a little chuckle. “Well, hell, I can’t stay out there twenty-four, seven. Got to sleep sometime. It’ll be okay, though. The cops know my schedule. We work with each other.”

  “I see.”

  “So, want to come in for a drink?” Gabe asked as he dug in his pocket for his key.

  “A drink? I thought you didn’t drink.”

  Gabe opened the door, and stepped aside while Deuce walked in. “I don’t, but I keep it around for company.”

  “Okay, sure. I guess I could use a…no, maybe I shouldn’t either. Got any soft drinks?”

  “How about a Pepsi? You like Pepsi?”

  “Yeah. I think that’ll work.”

  Gabe quickly grabbed one from out of his fridge, and threw it to him.

  Deuce took it, popped the tab and tasted it, but somehow, even with all the carbonation, the flavor was just a little too flat without a shot of whiskey. “You know, maybe I will have just a hint of whiskey to liven this thing up a little.”

  Gabe smiled, grabbed a glass, added ice, and then poured the Pepsi into it along with the whiskey. “Say when.”

  “I guess that’ll do,” Deuce said. He immediately heaved it up and could taste the burn as it slid down his throat. Since he hadn’t had a drink in a long time, the powerful liquid was acting on him like gangbusters.

  “Oh, wow,” Deuce said as he stumbled. “I think I’m getting a little high here.”

  Gabe caught him just in time, led him to the sofa, and helped him sit down. “You okay?”

  Feeling the false courage the drink gave him, suddenly Deuce reached for him, and pulled him into a mind-blowing kiss.

  *

  Gabe quickly pulled away, startled, but when he saw Deuce brazenly undo the zipper on his jeans, and work his pants open, he knew what was happening. Although his first inclination was to resist, when his gaze dropped, his breath hitched at the size of the cock that pushed its way out. It looked hungry, making Gabe feel a hot, velvety feeling roiling in his groin. He could feel his own cock growing when his gaze shifted toward the deep, dark bad boy expression that was hidden by a river of hair falling down one side of Deuce’s face. Peering out from behind it was a lazy, half-open eye that told a story of sin, sex, and forbidden liaisons.

  Deuce’s look reminded him of street fights, bloody faces, curse words, and police stations, causing a red flag go up inside his head. He might have stopped right there, being sure he was looking into another world filled with characters he had sworn to wipe off the face of the earth.

  But now, among soft lights, hard bodies, and a need that had to be satisfied—somehow it didn’t matter.

  *

  Deuce thrilled at Gabe’s touch. The warmth of his palm around his cock could in no way be compared to the times he’d jerked off waiting for this moment. He was lost in heaven when he asked that they find a bed.

  A big, hot, firm bed that was made for two men making love.

  While hanging onto each other, Gabe led him to the bedroom. When Deuce saw it, he actually moaned. Slowly their lips met, and Deuce could feel the hardness of his body against his as he leaned toward him. And then suddenly the kiss became deeper, sexier, hotter, and the sweet surrender of the two men to the needs of the other made Deuce dizzy. He could feel Gabe’s h
ips moving, the hardness of his cock rubbing against him, and he reached down and stilled Gabe’s body with a hand to his hip.

  “Wait,” he whispered.

  “Why?” Gabe whispered.

  Deuce answered by removing Gabe’s clothes. With a shaking hand, he grabbed the T-shirt with the glittery Night Flyer insignia on it, pulled it up over his head, and then whispered, “Take off your pants.”

  Gabe quickly began tugging on them, and then threw them across the room.

  Once they lay naked, Deuce froze at the sight of Gabe’s hard cock. The flushed, stretched skin gave beauty a new meaning. His own solid flesh couldn’t hide his desire. His cock stood out as if it were reaching for Gabe’s as their bodies touched from chest to foot, and it was better than any fantasy, or better than any other sexual moment in his life.

  Each took the cock of the other in their hands, and began to rub and stroke, heavy then hard. “I’ve been waiting to feel you like this,” Deuce said, his voice deeper than ever before. “I’ve been wanting to taste you too.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Gabe whispered, and then captured Deuce’s mouth with another kiss, and caressed his tongue before he tangled it up with his own.

  “My God, you can kiss,” Deuce muttered before he began moving downward until his mouth was even with Gabe’s giant-sized cock. Just to make Gabe hotter, he began licking the inside of his thighs while his fingers rubbed him all over with a soft and tender touch. “Damn, you’re gorgeous.”

  He felt Gabe shiver.

  While stroking Gabe’s thighs and savoring their muscled hardness, he finally stopped when his mouth was only an inch from Gabe’s dick. He looked up, and Gabe met his gaze with a look of total desire that made Deuce’s heart begin to flutter. Moving slowly, he traveled the last little bit of space that separated them, and lowered his mouth over the tip of Gabe’s cock.

  *

  “Ohhhh,” Gabe moaned as Deuce worked his wet tongue down his cock until he began a slow pull with his lips, wetting, sucking, and bringing him closer and closer to the edge. Finally, a low moan escaped from his throat.