THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Ewan

Written by Lady Poetess
egiggles at moose-mail.com
http://www.asstr.org/~bbp

Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This
story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive.

ONE

With one hand rummaging for what was left in the packet of
jellybeans, the man didn't bother to hide his yawn with his other
hand. The couple on the stage were performing a most energetic
stimulation of fucking, two young, splendid, beautiful young men
with perfect physique, pretty wholesome faces, and perfect teeth.
Wearing only tiny thongs that barely concealed their promising
bulges, they had the crowd wild and eating out of their hands - or
from any other portion of their anatomy.

Ewan McGregor's sole reaction was to wonder what could have driven
young, wholesome men like those to get on stage and perform like
that. He was no prude, and he had done his share of sins, but he
wondered why couldn't those two young men just stay in school and
get good, well-paying jobs with decent benefits.

Yeah, he was 29, 30 in a month's time, and he was feeling 60. He
placed two jellybeans into his mouth and cursed Christian for
putting him through this. If Christian Bale didn't show up in -
Ewan checked his watch - ten minutes, Ewan would leave, to hell
with everything.

He didn't have to, as it turned out.

"Sorry, I'm late," Christian Bale, the handsome, smug, and ultra-
successful bastard whom Ewan hated and would unhesitatingly choke
were not Chris his long-patient editor, said, finally appearing
out of the crowd. "Got caught up in things."

Yeah, Ewan thought, probably anything would get a higher priority
in Chris' life than he. He was just an author already dismissed by
everyone as a flash-in-the-pan. Ewan's one and only book, The
Sound Of Snow, was a wildly successful children's book that caught
the imagination of even the most killjoy critics. Then Ewan just
couldn't write anymore. Harry Potter came soon after and Ewan was
pretty much forgotten by now.

Now, Ewan was here to beg. He was way behind in his deadline, he
had spent his advance, and he would be in deep shit if Random
House decided to sue him for breach of contract. Just one more
month - he could finish his book and hand it in by one month.

"Ah, there you are." Chris wasn't speaking to Ewan, however. Ewan
didn't mind - his world stopped turning the moment that man walked
into his life. Technically, into Chris' arms.

The man wasn't handsome in a conventional, pretty boy way, but his
coarse, elfin features drew Ewan like no other pretty boys could.
This young man was dressed in a manner typical of club prowlers -
tight muscle tee, indecently tight jeans, but Ewan wasn't
complaining. Not when the man's clothes allowed Ewan ample
opportunity to drool and get a hard-on over the tightly muscled
torso and shapely butt and thighs.

And then the man kissed Chris. Ewan heard his own pained sharp
intake of breath as he watched Chris' hand brazenly slipped
between the man's thighs. He had to look away.

"Hey, meet John Paul, my new friend," Chris said, unknowingly
drawing Ewan even deeper into the abyss of lust. "We're good
friends, aren't we, JP?" he murmured, his hand now pushing under
the other man's shirt.

"Hi," John Paul or JP or whatever said, giving Ewan a smile, a
goofy smile that fitted his unsophisticatedly appealing face so
beautifully. "I - Chris!"

Ewan looked away before his envy and jealousy was reflected in his
eyes. JP - what a beautiful man, Ewan thought even as he parted
his thighs slightly to accommodate his raging erection in his
jeans. Yet, yet - even looking away, he could see JP's smile in
his mind. Every brilliant moment, every elegant upward curve of
those thick, sensual lips was imprinted in Ewan's mind like a
burning branding. And he had to look one more time.

Chris' hand was still up JP's shirt, visibly pinching the man's
nipples. JP, however, was looking at Ewan, his expression
inscrutable. And Chris, noticing his lover's attention on the
unwanted guest, bit back a curse and turned his attention to Ewan.
"This is Ewan McGregor," Chris said not too graciously.

If the previous smile was dazzling, JP's current smile was a
million suns in Ewan's eyes. "I love your book!" the man said, his
face lightening Ewan's senses with his apparently genuine pleasure
at knowing Ewan's identity. "Actually it was my sister's, and I
read it when I went home to visit, but - wow! It's so great to
meet you."

"Well, your favorite author is here to beg for mercy," Chris
murmured. "Aren't you, Ewan?"

His face burning with shame, Ewan could do nothing but to mumble,
"Chris, that's why you call me here to talk about, remember?"

"What? No, I call you here because it's convenient for me to meet
you and pick up JP at the same time. He works here. As a dancer."
Chris' grin was one of a lion toying with his weaker subjects. "JP
is very good at dancing."

It was all Ewan could do not to jump across the table and reach
for Chris' throat, especially when for the first time, something
resembling embarrassment or even shame flickered in JP's eyes.
Then again, why would JP be so concerned about what Ewan would
think of him? Oh yeah, he said Ewan wrote a great book. Ewan
wanted to kill somebody.

"I'd love to read your next book," JP said.

Ewan wondered if JP seemed as dull a conversationist as he had so
far implied on being. And the next heartbeat, he decided it didn't
matter. He couldn't take his eyes off that man. And he couldn't
stop seeing that smile in his mind, and he couldn't stop wanting
to stay here and drink in the sight of JP, beautiful JP, until the
end of time.

"You do? Okay, fine. JP says he'd like to see you get published a
little longer, I'll do that." Chris snapped his fingers for the
waiter. "See you around, Ewan. Come on JP." whatever he said next
was lost in a whisper in JP's ears.

Better Ewan didn't more. JP laughed at whatever Chris said, and
Ewan couldn't take it anymore. Not without breaking something. He
quietly stormed his way to the exit. And hence missed JP's one
last look at him before the man let Chris kiss him.



TWO

John Paul Pitoc was naked except for a flimsy, gauzy sheet
carelessly spread over his muscular right thigh that fell over the
man's crotch, covering enough to doom Ewan into disappointment.
But there was enough steaming muscular torso and thighs bared to
make Ewan's mouth dry and his cock hard as stone.

He had dreamed of JP for the three nights since he saw the man at
the club. And he sometimes found himself following every tall man
with dark, slightly curly hair and muscular build, hoping futilely
that it might be JP and they could maybe talk, have a cup of
coffee that Ewan would lace with enough drugs that would knock JP
out, and they could fuck long and hard.

"What are you doing here?" JP asked, seeing Ewan and lifting his
upper body from the bed. The sheet fell lower, exposing the start
of a neatly trimmed triangular pubic bush.

"Chris had to rush for some meeting, and he asked me to drive you
- somewhere - before his wife comes back," Ewan tried not to
mumble, still angered and shamed that Chris would see fit to use
him this way in return for that one month deadline.

But JP understood. "Oh. That's okay." He didn't ask anything more.
"I'll get dressed."

It was hard, but Ewan turned away as JP carelessly flung the sheet
away. His nostrils detected the faint trace of sex - semen and
sweat in a potent olfactory cocktail - and there was no mistaken
what Chris was doing with JP before he called Ewan half an hour
ago. Hurt, envy and jealousy and the violent yearning to scream,
tear, and fight for what he wanted so badly, the pain was a hammer
striking the anvil of his heart. "Are you done?" Ewan asked, his
voice husky with need and frustrated hunger, his fingers clenched
in a fist.

"Yeah."

Ewan turned. His eyes still stung and his mouth watered to see JP
wearing those skin-tight jeans and that simple cotton T-shirt that
clung to the muscular contours of his physique.

"Where do you want to go?" Ewan asked.

"I don't know. Dinner will be nice," JP said.

JP didn't mean to brush against Ewan when they made their way
through the door. Ewan would laugh and say later that perhaps
their bodies had the right idea where their brains didn't. As it
was, Ewan's hand shot up to steady JP, but the damage was done.
Ewan's body was humming taut with lust, but the feel of JP's hard-
muscled body brushing his caused him to snap. Without any coherent
thought, he gripped JP's shoulders and pushed the man hard against
the wall. When JP opened his mouth to say something, Ewan zoomed
in for the kill.

He was kissing JP, his brain could hardly believe or accept that.
But nonetheless, he was tugging at the man's lips and playing with
the other man's tongue with his in a sensual writhing dance. JP's
long legs lifted as Ewan sat the man on the windowsill, to wrap
around Ewan's waist. With a low savage moan, Ewan buried his face
in JP's shoulder and ground his cock against the junction of JP's
thighs. JP was clawing at Ewan's back, pulling the other man's
shirt out of his trousers and rubbing at naked flesh. Then Ewan
gave a guttural cry and shuddered as he lost control. He came,
ejaculating into the confines of his shorts under his pants, as he
thrust one more time at Ewan.

"This is embarrassing," Ewan finally said when he got his breath
back. "Fuck, I can't believe I came in my pants."

"That's okay. I can clean it up." JP said, his hands reaching for
the fastenings of Ewan's trousers.

"Chris' wife - "

"Oh, yeah."

Ewan wanted to chuckle at the look of disappointment in JP's face.
"Come on, I'll take us to my place, and we can continue where we
leave off there."



Ewan's heater had been broken for two weeks now and he had decided
to forgo fixing it in favor of buying canned food for his meals.
But this time the freezing water had no effect on his or JP. At
least not for their vigorous fuck that resulted from their aborted
attempt to bathe together.

Ewan sighed in pleasure as he let his head fall back. JP's fingers
worked their magic on his scalp as the man washed Ewan's hair.

"I can't stop thinking about you since I saw you at the club,"
Ewan murmured. "Can't sleep, can't think."

"I'm here now," JP just answered. His hands were like the most
soothing of touch, now moving to rub the back of Ewan's neck.

"Yeah." Ewan let himself lean against JP, luxuriating in the feel
of his back against the hard muscular wall of JP's front. JP
laughed throatily and pushed Ewan forward a little, letting his
hands slowly move to rub the ease out of Ewan's shoulders. Those
fingers mercilessly pressed, rubbed, and pounded every strain from
Ewan's body. His shoulders. down the length of his back. and Ewan
gasped when JP's fingers smoothed the crease between his buttocks,
teasing him with the delicious friction of callused fingers on
sensitive skin. The sensation caused Ewan to part his legs wider,
a stance JP took ruthless advantage of by parting Ewan's butt
cheeks. His fingers lathered with soap stroked the sensitized
folds tightly guarding the entrance of Ewan's anus, before slowly
penetrating Ewan's flesh one finger by another, inch by inch.

"Ahh." Ewan buckled, and JP's another free arm circled his waist
to steady him. Three fingers tightly packing Ewan's hole,
stretching him to breaking point, and intensifying the keening
pleasure-pain was the slow up thrust and withdrawal of those
fingers in slow, circular strokes as they lathered Ewan's insides
with soap suds, cleaning him. He couldn't take it - he gave a
choked cry when JP hit a spot so deep up him that a sharp tearing
pleasure rippled through him in a wave of spasm. Then JP was
replacing his fingers with his thick, pulsing erection.

Ewan place one hand against the wall to steady himself, but with
his other free hand, he let it stray onto JP's torso behind him,
tracing the deep pubic arch of that man, feeling the rock-hard six-
pack abs of the man's stomach until he found the base of the other
man's cock. All coherence was obliterated however when JP started
thrusting his hips, fucking his cock deep in Ewan's pulsing
groove.

It was more than lethal a payback for Ewan's own savage fucking of
JP hours earlier. Ewan had practically raped that man, infuriated
when he found JP still dripping wet with Christian Bale's semen.
And JP had laughed then, meeting every hard bang of Ewan's crotch
with his own frantic urging. And now, Ewan bit his lower lip from
screaming out loud. When JP's cock lacked in length, it
compensated for its almost abnormal thickness, and Ewan was
getting the best, fucking rogering of his life.

"Don't you dare come!" JP shouted.

"I'll try," Ewan gasped, feeling the pleasure flooding at the base
of his spine, threatening to unleash itself on him - if only he
could reach that peak. that brutal banging of that thick wet cock
head against his burning prostate. he lifted his butt to meet JP's
increasingly brutal fuck pumps, needing that surcease only the
thick, molten ooze of seminal ejaculate could give. Then there it
was - JP's triumphant climax. The sluicing scalding rich and
heated spurts of fresh male fuck dream, flooding Ewan's insides,
making him feel whole, cleansed, and wasted.

He didn't come, much to JP's delight. The latter rewarded Ewan
with that charming crooked smile, right before he got down on his
knees and closed his lips over the burning crown of Ewan's cock.



Christian Bale called that night, demanding to know where the fuck
JP was. "I'm down with a cold," JP explained using Ewan's phone.
And Chris never asked whether JP was feeling better. "That's
okay," JP told Ewan. "He wants a relationship of easy sex, me at
his beck and call. I don't expect anything more."

"What's in it for you?" Ewan asked quietly, not sure how to voice
his real question - what he could do to win JP from Christian
Bale.

"What else? Hard cash, of course." JP looked at Ewan searchingly,
but he wouldn't find any judgment from the latter. Ewan was too
cognizant of what it meant to pimp oneself for money. Still, JP
didn't know the other man that well to feel compelled to explain.
"I was born poor - "

"So was I. But I'm not castigating you on your choices. I probably
would do the same if I am handsome, well-hung, and if I had time
and compulsion to work out in the gym." Ewan made to douse out his
cigarette on the ashtray beside the bed. "Look at this dump," he
said, talking about his apartment.

"I don't get it. You just spend your time writing?" JP asked. He
was lying beside Ewan, his arms behind his head as a cushion.

Ewan sighed and moved his head to rest his cheek on the crook of
JP's arm. "I was working at some restaurant as a waiter two weeks
ago before I got fired. I wasn't paying attention and I sometimes
find it too difficult to concentrate, like keeping orders
straight."

JP had a devilish grin on his face when he lifted his head to look
at Ewan. "I have a plan. You need money, right?"

"Yeah."

"I can share what Chris give me with you."

"No!" Ewan's sudden fury startled JP. "No," Ewan said again. "I
will not have you whore yourself for me. It's hard enough that I
know you will be back in his bed tomorrow. Don't even tell me to
take what he gives you."

JP's face was just as hard, his usually easy-going, goofy mien now
frozen in muted stone. Except in just one brief second, when he
flinched in instinctive recoil at the realization that the man he
was starting to care for had just reminded him of what they chose
to deny: he was, indeed, a whore. "I didn't know it is killing you
to sleep with me now," he lashed out, hurt.

"Yes it is," Ewan stated bluntly, his own face etched in pain.
"When I know you will go back to him when he snaps his fingers. I
wish I can - "

JP looked at him, not daring to confront his own feelings.

Ewan cursed and kicked off the sheets as he jumped off the bed to
walk to the mirror across the room. His own face, pale and nothing
to shout about next to Christian Bale's aristocratic handsomeness,
looked back. Ewan touched his chest and stomach, felt the lack of
muscular definition that Christian and JP had, and groaned.
Closing his eyes and hitting his forehead hard against the mirror,
he despaired. He would never match Chris in JP's estimation. And
JP would leave.

A part of him hoped that JP would walk up to him and put his arms
around Ewan and that JP would whisper that everything would be
okay. So what if Ewan was poor and had trouble making any
direction in his life, they would work out a plan together. They
would make this work.

But JP, blinded by his own pain, didn't do that. He looked across
the room at Ewan, not really seeing Ewan but his own pain at being
rejected by Ewan, and couldn't find any word to say. Finally, he
didn't say anything at all.


THREE

There was no mountain too high and no rivers too wide, so a love
song went. JP looked at the sleeping Chris beside him and wondered
if he was feeling despair or self-loathing. It had been two weeks
since he and Ewan fucked and screwed up everything, still he
couldn't escape the lingering afterthoughts of Ewan's words, the
aftertaste of Ewan's skin and fluids, and the most devastating of
all, the moment of being held by a man who saw the lonely man
inside JP's fa‡ade.

He left the bed and walked into the shower. The moment the hot
water sprayed on him, his reserve snapped. A hoarse, broken sob he
didn't even recognize as his broke free from him, and it was the
final wedge in his control. His tears he couldn't tell apart from
the water from the shower, and he scrubbed himself raw, washing
the traces of Chris' come from every inch of his insides until he
couldn't take it anymore. Until he lost his will to fight anymore
and he fell onto the shower floor, his tears falling freely at
last.

He didn't know how long he was in the shower. But he was composed
when he walked out, drying himself with a towel, an expensive
thick towel that represented everything Christian Bale was -
money, luxury, and ease. JP was more than willing to play the game
to earn the rewards Christian offer. But now, with Ewan, he was
finding it more and more difficult to keep doing so.

Ewan - JP missed Ewan. How could this happen? They met just once,
fall into bed too soon, and that was all. It was a fling, nothing
more.

There should be no reason for Ewan to walk out from the shadows
like a hero with perfect timing. There should be no reason why
JP's heart sang and he wanted to break down in relief and joy.

Ewan placed his finger to his lips. Chris was still asleep in the
bedroom.

"What are you doing here?" JP whispered urgently.

"I miss you. I just have to see you." Ewan was ready with his arms
wide open as JP ran into his embrace willingly. "I'm the one who
stole the key Chris gave you."

"I guessed," JP said.

"I won't ask you to leave him. I know I can't give you - this."
Ewan looked around him. "But I would love to have whatever part of
your life that you will let me in, JP."

JP shook his head. "No, Ewan, I'm done with this. I can't do this
anymore. I'll get a job, something - I'll wait tables with you. I
have some money myself. But your book."

"I did nothing but write the last few weeks. I tried to forget you
that way, but it didn't work." Ewan grinned weakly. "It's done.
Maybe one day I will write again. I don't know."

"You're free."

"Yeah. How about you?"

JP shrugged. "I once read about this couple so madly in love that
they defied their parents and eloped into the night."

"So what do your parents say?" Ewan asked, taking a step towards
JP.

"I don't care." JP took Ewan's hand in his.

When Christian Bale woke up two hours later, horny and wanting JP
to pump, he found himself alone in the penthouse. There was a note
left on his bedside that he noticed when he was dressing later.

"Dear Chris, I've found someone. I hope you won't be too mad, but
I won't be available for weekends anymore. It was fun while it
lasted, thanks for everything. JP."

There was only one possible bastard behind this. Chris wasn't
blind; he had been perversely playing Ewan off with JP, secure in
his hold over JP. Obviously he had overplayed his own value to JP.
That young man wasn't as greedy as Chris expected him.

Fuck. Chris shrugged - he was rich, he was handsome, he would find
someone else. Life went on. So what if JP was the best he ever had
and he would probably take JP back when the latter surely came
back crawling. Money won over garbage sentimentality like "true
love" anytime.

But as he looked back at his apartment, which he bought
specifically for his sex trysts, he felt a rare twinge of
melancholy at how lonely and empty the penthouse seemed. And
somehow he knew, instinctively, that JP would probably never come
crawling back.
