The Look: Alpha Male, Feisty Female Romance

by Blair Aaron

  THE SENTENCING

  I

  Stetson was on lock down from the moment the jury had sentenced him to death, and he supposed shock prevented him from losing his cool in those hours after the jury announced the verdict. But days blurred together in his cell, as he kept his mind in an alternate reality, continually focused on the present. He sat in the cafeteria, eating slop, by himself, his hunting instincts picking up on the violent vibrations sent his way from the other prisoners. He figured what Carter said was true--the Nash Gibson gang was alive and well. Those particular prisoners had access to television so they without a doubt knew what the court had convicted Stetson with. They knew Stetson killed their hero Jaidon Marsh; it was clear too they planned on avenging him, and it was more than likely Stetson's imposing physique which had kept the boys at bay as long as it had.

  Stetson kept his gaze focused on the table, careful not to look anyone in the eye. A man sat his tray down next to him. The man was native American, nearly as large and imposing as Stetson.

  "Those boys over there, behind you are planning on stabbing you in the ribs after lunch today," he told Stetson.

  "Yup. I figured."

  "What you plan on doing about that?"

  "I plan on using that metal tray to bash them in the head lots. Then I'm gonna take the sharp end and stab them."

  "They'll fry you for that."

  "I'm already going to fry. Don't you know what I did?"

  "I know you didn't do it they way they say."

  "How come?"

  "I know things. And people." The Indian wrapped his long black hair around into a ponytail, revealing a gnarled scar on his cheek. Stetson refused to stare, but there was something mysterious about this man and Stetson's own instincts hinted at the mysticism to come.

  "Let me give you a hint," he said. "Don't kill them." Just then the Indian looked up to see a tall, lanky, violent man rearing back to bash Stetson's brains in. Stetson could feel him coming and dodged the blow, turning around to punch the guy in the nose. The tall man fell back, stunned, but not before three more men tackled Stetson, one of whom stabbed him in the ribs. The pain was sharp and keen, but he had to survive. He picked the guy up and threw him across the room like a rag doll.

  II

  "You have to do something. The execution has been expedited to a week from now."

  "There's nothing I can do," Michael Ingram said.

  "How do I get any help around here!? What do you people want? He's innocent. The jury was rigged!" Carter screamed at the top of his lungs.

  "Calm down, kid! Come into my office, and maybe I can help you," Ingram said. In the office, Ingram took out his pistol and placed it on the table, removing his jacket and tie. Carter could anticipate what was coming. "Listen kid. I know your guy is innocent."

  "How do you know?"

  "I can just tell. He's an honest man. So are you. Just tryna do what's right. I get it. But you have to understand where you are." Ingram ran his hand through his thick black hair. His chest was so large it bulged through the crisp white dress shirt he wore under his suit. Carter looked up and down his body, taking in the thickness of his thighs and obvious bulge between his legs. Ingram could see Carter's gaze on his crotch and got up from the table, walking around the chair that Carter sat in, leaning against the edge of the desk.

  Carter looked up at the man pleadingly. He could see in Michael Ingram's neon blue eyes a kindness and compassion missing from his more ambitious partner, Presley Watkins. Carter was desperate, as his only hope of helping the second person he loved was ripped from his grasp, just like it seemed every good thing to happen to Carter was taken from him. Though he never stopped to articulate it to himself, Carter figured he refrained from fighting because he had an implicit understanding of his own goodness, and he knew fighting would work to destroy that. But Carter could not wait any longer to do something to get Stetson out of jail and away from the drooling executioners. He had to do something, no matter what, no matter how, to save Stetson. After all it was Stetson who outed himself in order to save him. It was Stetson who hunted down Jaidon and killed him to save him. It was Stetson who rescued him from the maw of death over and over again. It was time that Carter returned the favor.

  Carter took a deep breath. "You could help me. I know the jury was rigged. I just know it. Do you have information that could help me, maybe about the prosecutor?" Carter asked, placing his shaking hand on Ingram's knee.

  Mike Ingram did in fact know something very major about Presley Watkins. Despite what Ingram to his partner, he felt a nagging violation in own conscience about helping Watkins rig the jury, and he knew divulging that information to the world, through a newspaper perhaps, would be more than enough to demand a retrial in Stetson's appeal. But revealing Watkins for the persecutor he was would put Ingram himself in danger, not just for his job but for his life and the woman he was married to. And yet there was something so pitiful about Carter, how the entire society of Baggs, Wyoming treated him, how they shunned him, vilified him, trivialized his suffering and loneliness.

  Ingram turned to the window of his office and closed the blinds, then locked the door.

  "What are you doing?" Carter said, his voice cracking.

  Ingram pulled up the chair beside Carter and leaned into his face. "What if I told you that I did know something that would help you? What if, I told you that helping you would basically destroy my life and everything I've worked to build? What would you say to that?"

  Carter looked away, silent. If there was anything he had more experience in than most people, he was sure it was suffering. No one suffered more than Carter.

  "I would say," Carter said, "that I would do anything to help my friend get out of jail." Carter reached up and touched Ingram on his face, hesitating to do more. Ingram put his hand on Carter and closed his eyes, then grabbed Carter's head and moved closer to put his lips softly on his. Carter was weak and submissive, and Ingram could sense a reluctance on his part.

  "I want to know you, Carter." Ingram began kissing Carter along the side of his neck, his dick getting hard in the process, excited because he was finally close to the guy and getting closer. Carter could feel the warmth of someone who loved him for just one instant, even though the feelings were not returned. The experience was electrifying yet somber, as Carter's glands and heart overjoyed in received affection, while his mind shamed him for breaking Stetson's trust. But, as he said, Carter would do anything to save Stetson, even if it meant he would lose him. Carter put Stetson into this mess, and it was only fair that Carter got him out.

  Carter placed his hands on Ingram's white shirt, using his fingers to feel along the front to unbutton him. Beneath the shirt was a white tank top, through which Ingram's massive chest and tanned skin showed through. As he ran his hand along the hardness of his body, the shallower, baser side of his personality rejoicing in the adventure of getting this close to straight, professional policeman. He could tell Ingram didn't do this often, but was overcome with passion and longing.

  Ingram continued kissing along his neck and down his front, where Ingram too unbuttoned Carter's plaid green shirt, revealing soft, white, unblemished skin. Ingram was forceful like Stetson, not pliant like Maddox, his very first true love. He started sucking on Carter's stomach, tickling him down below and then unzipping his pants. For a second Carter got scared and wanted to stop. His nerves, combined with the stress of finding a way to help Stetson, worked against him.

  "You okay, man?" Ingram asked, himself somewhat on edge, although he did a good job of hiding it. This was his first time with a guy, but he assumed it wouldn't be categorically different from his relations with women. You like someone, you get close to them in any way you can. It's that simple, he figured.

  "I'm okay."

  Carter reached over the back of Ingram and untucked his shirt, and he could see down into his pants at his ass. He ran his hands up through Ingram's back and pulled the shirt off, revealing the man in all his glory.
He had gigantic shoulders, even bigger than his chest, but the thing most perfect about him (other than his eyes and lips) were the sculpted wrists, the area of the arm which met the hand. His wrists were strong but proportionate to the rest of him, and Carter squeezed them in the heat of the moment, letting out a sigh. Ingram took his long, rectangular fingers and dug through Carter's pants, revealing his erect penis. Standing over him, Carter looked down at Ingram kind of embarrassed but still managing to smile. Ingram took him in his mouth and sucked him as firmly as he had other parts of him. Despite Carter's worry he could still recognize a part of him that would simply enjoy having sex with Ingram for only physical reasons. The man could make love, that much was sure. Carter placed his hand on the back of Ingram's head, as he had Stetson, imagining for a moment the man performing fellatio was his real love. But Ingram pulled away.

  "Don't force me. It's demeaning."

  Carter didn't say anything but apologized instead with his eyes. Ingram immediately felt bad about getting angry and stood up, unbuckling his belt. He instructed Carter to stand up and drop his pants, turning him around like he would a tiny dancer, against the back window of his office. Carter could see through the slits in the blinds the outside world, two policemen walking to their cars after work. They were clearly joking about something as they shook hands and headed off to their vehicles. The sun was setting beyond the trees and the clouds moved visibly across the orange ball of light in the sky. Carter traced the clouds against the outline of the sun as Ingram rubbed Carter's tummy from behind, telling him with his hands it was time to relax and let him enter him. He could hear Ingram unzip his pants and almost immediately he could feel the man's erection wag between Carter's cheeks. In anticipation, Carter reached around to feel Mike Ingram's erection, throbbing and tumescent, and he ran his hand up and down his dick, feeling the shape to imagine just how big it was in his mind. He took his other hand and pulled Ingram closer by his waist. The guy was wide, Carter could tell from what he felt with his hands.

  "I've never done this," Ingram said from behind Carter. "Don't we need lube?"

  "If you could."

  Ingram grabbed a bottle of aloe vera from the shelf next to Carter. "This might work."

  "That's fine," Carter said. He then felt cold fingers rubbing around his anal canal and then pushing their way into him. He was still nervous, in spite of Ingram's warm caresses, so it was little longer before Ingram could push himself into him. But the feeling was pure ectasy in his body when Ingram succeeded. Watching the sunset he couldn't stop thinking about Stetson, it was true, but his body was enjoying the sex for sure. This gave the experience a dual-sidedness for Carter.

  Ingram was whole, though. He thought not of his wife, who he suspected was probably cheating on him, but of the connection he was sharing with this boy physically. He could feel the softness of his ass squeeze on his dick, and every thrust brought him closer to heaven. Carter flooded his thoughts--Carter's blond hair, Carter's frail frame, Carter's sad eyes, Carter, Carter, Carter.

  He was fused with this kid physically and spinning out of control. He lost a little bit of himself in the moment and replaced it was Carter. He could no longer figure out where he stopped and Carter began. But this wasn't something that he could tell him out loud. This kind was already going through enough without having to deal with another straight guy falling for him. But Michael Ingram couldn't help himself. He was in love, and as anyone who's ever felt the emotion in an authentic setting, the heart has its reasons invisible to the mind. He rose higher and higher until he was practically levitating in the room, suspended in the air, free of all nature's laws. He felt nothing but communion as he ejaculated inside the boy with a soft grunt.

  Carter held his forehead against his arm, still leaning against the wall. He lifted his gaze when Michael stopped pumping into him.

  "Carter, I--"

  "What?"

  "I think I am--" Ingram stopped. He couldn't say it. He couldn't tell the kid he loved him.

  "What's wrong?"

  Ingram sighed. "I think I can help you."-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  DEATH ROW

  I

  Visitation for death row inmates was nonexistent, especially in the small, insular town of Baggs, Wyoming. Stetson Carthswaite, who was just wrongfully accused of murder by the town's much-worshipped grand prosecutor, coped with the mental delirium, blurred days, and near-constant fear of reprisal from other inmates and guards by fantasizing about having sex with Carter Simmons, the 20-something blond boy he fell in love with two months before his life was ripped to shreds. In one dream he and Carter were lying in a tent somewhere in Alaska. The wolves, who were not afraid of human presence, watched casually with their fellow pack members. Stetson was asleep and Carter had his head on his chest, rubbing his stomach softly. It tickled him in the dream and he leaned up and kissed Carter on the lips, after which he pulled his own shirt off, revealing his massive, manly chest. The child east wind make his nipples so hard he could cut glass with them, but the excitement of the situation was more than enough to heat up the tent. The early morning dew left a sweet dripping nectar from the tip of the sheep skin tent as Stetson dry humped his body against Carter's pelvis. Stetson took his big hands and draped them over Carter, and for the first time mashed his boyish head onto his lap, suggesting without words that he wanted head. Carter willingly obliged, unbuckling the stallion's pants, unzipping his jeans to reveal the largest penis many people may have witnessed.

  "I've never done this before," he said. "Not with something this big."

  "It's okay. Your throat will stretch and it'll feel nice."

  Carter nodded his head in approval and began sucking him off. Stetson, normally thoroughly forceful, found himself turned on by Carter's sweetness, and the gentle licking and blowing he performed all the base of and head of his penis. The feeling behind the actions mattered to Stetson becasuse he didn't believe anyone had ever loved him, truly loved him. He pressed gently on the side of Carter's side, running his index finger along the ridge of Carter's ear. Carter moaned quietly, and Stetson pulled his head for another kiss, this time going along his neck and down his front. Carter tasted sweet to Stetson, his aroma an airy but unforgettable saccharine. He ran his fingers under the band of Carter's underwear and pulled them off. Carter's penis took some time to get hard, given the temperature outside the tent, but it wasn't long before he was raring to go. He laid on top of Carter, careful, so as not to smush him, as Carter used his toes to kick off Stetson's pants, revealing his rock-hard and round ass. For someone so strong and athletic, Carter found himself surprised by the parts of his lover that were undeniably soft. He couldn't forget that men were human too. He rubbed his face against Stetson's facial scrub from not shaving for several days. The facial hair tickle and then he ran his hands along Stetson's massive arms and shoulders. Despite the fact that Stetson had a perfectly manly body, his skin was blemish free and hairless. Not a single stretch mark, pimple, or blackhead. His smell was musky and his sweat intoxicating. When his hair got wet, the blondness darkened to spectacular yellowish sheen. Carter ran his small, spindly fingers through it as Stetson continued rubbed his giant member against the inside of Carter's leg. Carter could feel the thickness of his cock head rubbing right next to Carter's pubic hair as Stetson continued along and down Carter's arms. A moose from behind came running up, about to charge and Carter's heart skipped a beat.

  "It's ok," Stetson said. "I'm here. I'll always be here." He then unzipped a bag lying next to the pillow on which Carter's head rested and pulled out some lube. They were completely naked and Carter could see goosebumps form, like chicken skin, on Stetson's abs. Carter continued rubbing Stetson's nipples as he lubed up, and then Stetson wrapped Carter's legs around his waist, his dick ready for action.

  "Go gently," Carter told him. "It's been a while."

  Stetson nodded in comprehension and then entered him forcefully but slowly. T
he fullness was something Carter remembered he couldn't live without as Stetson began pumping away, the tent opening flapping in the wind. There was nothing better than the feeling of being inside the person you loved, Stetson thought. He raised himself up on his front paws and used Carter's bodyweight as a counterforce to his thrusting. Every thrust accompanied a soft grunt from Carter and smile from his eyes. Stetson watched the small mounds of fat on Carter's thighs jiggle ever so slightly as he continued pumping away, smiling as his eyes recorded all the imperfections on his lover, which is to say, all the imperfections as perfections. There was a small scar on Carter's chin, from his father hit him with a steel pipe on accident. There was the area of Carter's hair that began to ever-so-slightly curl. There was the small of Carter's back that glowed in the early morning sunrise. The were Carter's spindly hands, fingers almost but not quite too long for his body shape, and his dainty wrists, almost feminine enough to be a woman's. Perhaps this was what really attracted Stetson to Carter in the beginning, paradoxically that his most effeminate traits were what he zeroed in on, despite the fact that he was a boy. The truth be told, it was and would remain a myster to Stetson why he fell so hard and so fast for Carter. But the damage was done. He was in love and wanted to stay that way forever. It felt so easy and dream-like to live a life in the mountains, away from all the pressures and messiness that comes with dealing with people. He wrapped his massive hands around Carter's face as he come without warning, and he feel his hot juices flowing down his inner thigh. By the look on Stetson's face and by the feeling in his butt, Carter knew his lover just finished.

  But Stetson almost always woke up from the dreams in the night, sweating at the thought of his fate on death row. There just was no way he could avoid it, and he ignored this unfortunate fact. But the subconscious was a powerful force, and in his dreams at night he could no longer avoid the pain awaiting him. He never felt more lonely in his entire life. He expressed very little emotion through his life, not because he was incapable, but because he alienated himself from the shock his flesh was heir to. But coming to the end of the line, with only one person whom he worried about, his subdued mind finally decided it was time to face the music, so to speak.