THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Anderson

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

Ioan Gruffudd knew he was a great secretary. Organization was his
forte. He had been a concierge, a valet, a purser, and now, a
secretary to one of the most powerful young movers in Wall Street.
His life was nothing but a constant organizing of schedules and
plans of others, and he liked it that way. A well-known secret to
power was of course having powerful rich people depending on you
for every little detail. Yet, since he started working fot Cooper
Acquisitions, for the first time in his life Ioan found himself
losing his grip on the shift of power.

His employer Anderson Cooper looked up from a meeting minute he
was reading. "Sorry, Ioan, forgot you're here. So what am I
supposed to do today?"

Ioan pushed the geeky glasses up the bridge of his nose and
reluctantly broke off his fascinated gazing at his boss' face.
Coop wasn't handsome, Ioan would be the first to admit, but Coop
was arresting. It wasn't the way Coop looked, it was the quiet
steely tenacity and control the man radiated from his rangy but
well-muscled form that attracted Ioan. Ioan had seen the way the
civilized gentleman behind the power suit rips business rivals
into shreds, and he liked that. And he liked the way Coop depended
on him for everything too. It offered him some control over the
way his heart ached each time he faced his boss in his office.

He opened his black journal. "Meeting with Brendan at ten," he
stated. "And at three you have a conference to attend. Your mother
wants you to have dinner with her at seven, Crofton is expecting
you at his party at nine. That's all for today."

"Perfect. That means I have the afternoon to myself. That'll be
all, Ioan. If Jessamyn calls, tell her I'm still in Bermuda."

"If I may be so bold, Mr Cooper," Matt began.

"Fuck the Mr Cooper, Ioan. You promised to call me Coop," Coop
chided, as was his habit, his eyes back to his reading.

"Coop," Ioan amended, drowning in the sight of the other man
loosening the top few buttons of his white crisp shirt. Andy
exposed a smooth V of flesh. "Why not just tell Ms Jessamyn Brown
that you're not interested in her? That will make things easier
instead of you hiding whenever she comes prowling."

"I never hide," Coop said with a frown. "Or maybe I am," he said
after a thought. "Don't worry, I'll handle it. Run along now."

Run along now, Ioan mimicked the man in his heart. Once, he had
rich handsome men like Coop begging for a piece of him. But those
were the days when he was a mere bellhop or concierge. Now, he was
on his way to the top of the food chain and he never wanted to
return to those days of fucking for extra money or doing soft porn
stuff on the side. Shrugging off his thoughts, he placed two pills
on Coop's table. "Don't forget your pills."

Coop waved absently, never looking up from his reading.



"Shit, I'm late," Coop muttered. "I forgot to collect my laundry
today."

"Actually, I ordered Marie to do that," Ioan said, never looking
from the computer screen.

Coop felt irritated for no reason. "Oh," he said simply. Of
course, Ioan would have that covered. Ioan always had everything
covered. He made to the office exit. "Then I better go. My mother
would skin me if I'm late again."

Coop's mother was the esteemed Gloria Vanderbilt, and he came from
a long line of old money. Ioan had never met a guy who had his
portrait done and hung on a wall of a true castle until he met
Coop. Coop, however, was unlike any other rich men of Ioan's
acquaintances - he was never trying to take advantage of employees
like Ioan, and he was unexpectedly frugal for a man with more
money than he could have spent in his lifetime. The only time Coop
pulled all stops in his spending was on clothes. Coop was crazy
about Prada, Gucci, and Givenchy, and Ioan actually got some hand-
me-downs from his boss in his wardrobe back in his middle-sized
apartment in Manhattan.

"Coop, I have taken the liberty to have James waiting for you
downstairs with your Merc. Your favorite shirt and pants are in
the back, along with the suit you will wear to Crofton's. You can
go straight from your Mother to the party."

Ioan still didn't look up when he said that. Coop peered over
Ioan's shoulder. "Thanks. I don't know what I will do without
you."

Ioan nodded absently, and Coop suddenly wanted to smash the
monitor screen. He coughed loudly. When that didn't work, he felt
stupid and somewhat out of his league at this. "Ioan?" he said,
suddenly wanting Ioan to look at him.

Ioan finally deigned to look up, his green eyes narrowing in
annoyance. They were beautiful green eyes, Coop realized. If he
were the mawkish Ethan, he would have said they were almost jade
in their azure glory. And since when did Ioan's lips look so darn
pouty and sensual? Those lips looked juicy enough to be sucked and
nibbled at leisure.

Coop shifted his feet awkwardly. "Well, have a nice evening."

Ioan smiled tightly and resumed his typing.

Coop wondered if his secretary had a date. Strange, he had never
thought of Ioan as anything but an organized walking, talking
filofax, especially not as a person - especially not a sexual
person who dated and probably fucked around. Coop felt tightness
in his throat at the last thought. Hell, they should make it
illegal for secretaries to have sex lives, he decided. He could
use one of those efficient robots they had on TV shows.

He turned at the door, compelled by an indefineable need to give
Ioan another one look. Was it him that he thought he saw Ioan
averted his eyes just in time down to the computer?

"Ioan."

Ioan looked up now, sheepishly, as if he knew he was caught
staring.

Coop gave the man his best grin. It was his best trait, his
boyfriends in the past had told him. That and his easy, affable
sense of humor. His face was narrow and angular, a far cry from
the conventional perspective of beauty, and since he was twenty,
he had lines on his forehead and a shiny, silver streak in his
hair. It was genetic, and while he did worry about losing his hair
one day, he did like what the illusion of maturity did to him. He
was thirty-six, but he looked ten years older when he wasn't
smiling and when his eyes were closed. Still, people took him more
seriously after his hair became streaked with silver.

They even called him the Silver Fox.

"Come with me to dinner and save me from my mother," he asked
Ioan.

"Very funny, boss." Ioan however reached into his shirt pocket. He
tossed the card to Coop, who caught it easily.

For a moment there, Coop gaped. The stuffy, boring, and always
robotic Ioan, in that single spontaneous moment, was gone,
replaced by a roguish, even seductive rascal with a twinkle in his
eye... then Ioan's mask returned, and Andy wondered whether he had
just imagined everything.

"That's the address of a rather wild strip club. I'll be there
with some friends - join us if you can escape the dinner early."
Ioan's grin was almost pure devilry, as if he was daring prim and
proper Coop to say no.

Coop pocketed the card. He wasn't a successful businessman if he
didn't take risks. "See you later," he said, enjoying Ioan's
flustered expression when the latter realized what he had just
done - invited his boss to a strip club.

The card felt like a burning brand in his shirt pocket - a
promise, an anticipation. Coop surprised his chauffeur by laughing
as he stepped into the chair, his mind already devising various
excuses to leave early.

He felt ten again, playing truant in school for the first time. He
didn't get away with it then, but oh, he remembered the excitement
well. This wonderful sensation of thrill that he was doing
something that was just plain bad. The Coopers and the
Vanderbilts, rich and stuffy clans who believed that everything
should be swept under the carpet of propriety and hypocrasy, would
have a fit to know that the young scion of the Cooper fortune was
going to a sleazy strip joint.

Coop took out the card, touched it, following the rim of the card
as if he could relive Ioan's touch by psychomancy. He placed it
close to his nostrils, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

Anderson Cooper was an obedient and attentive son, but that night,
he was careless with his ear and even more careless with his
humor. He didn't care. He was going to a strip joint with Ioan.
Wow.

He couldn't - wouldn't - wait.



TWO

"Enjoying the party?" Russell Crowe yelled above the blaring music
of the strip club that night.

"Uh, yeah," Coop yelled back. "I think I still like my evenings in
a quiet, decent, and expensive restaurant. Even if the naked guys
gyrating onstage are cute."

"This is a nasty club. They will let you do anything to them for a
hundred dollars. Hey, look, the rest of the gang are here."

Coop choked on his Jim Bean. "Ioan?" he sputtered.

"That's Ioan alright. Not bad," Russell said. "I didn't know there
are such gorgeous secretaries around. I'd love to give him a
surprise rear-end bonus."

"You mean Ioan?" This was Ethan who came up to them. "I know him.
He works for you? Hey, small world."

"How do you know him?" Coop never liked implausible coincidences
in his movies and books, and he liked them less in his life.

"We were in correction school together. Nothing serious - he was
in for stealing a car radio or something equally trivial. Fucking
randy tomcat, that Ioan, taught me a few tricks I never knew when
we went cruising together. Even did some porn stuff - strictly
solo bits - all the way until he worked for you."

"You're joking." Ioan, cruising and doing porn? Coop couldn't
imagine.

"Nope. That guy's an insatiable sex machine, at least back then.
Maybe now too," Ethan said, watching impassively at Ioan pulling a
handsome dark-haired man into his embrace.

Coop watched too, but his feelings were not the least impassive.
He scowled when Ioan laughed, that usually impassive, sullen face
now alive with mischief. Coop had never seen Ioan laughed. He had
never seen Ioan pressed his hips against another man as they
gyrated to the dull, throbbing drumbeats, and he had certainly
never seen Ioan seduce another man into looking like that, like
the way Ioan's dancing partner practically drooled with lust.

Ioan looked stunning in simple low-collared shirt and washed-out
jeans. The usually ruffled dirty brown hair was now slicked and
stylish, and Ioan actually looked predatory, whispering sweet
nothings to his dancing partner even as his hands pressed into the
man's graceful curve of his back.

Coop's throat felt dry and there was a burning sensation on his
own back. Suddenly furious with Ioan, he turned back at the dancer
on the stage.

"Oops, I gotta go rescue Doc," Ethan said. "He wanted to have a
wild night, so I brought him here. I guess it's a bit too much for
his sensibilities."

Coop didn't hear him go. He was confused. Ioan as a sex machine?
Ben suddenly believed that, oh yes. And with that thought, he also
saw naked bodies entwined, hands exploring bare expanse of heated
skin and hungry lips groaning above the sound of flesh slapping
against wet flesh.

Russell's hand on his shoulder was a jolt back to reality.

"I've paid that man $200 to entertain you for a private show," the
man said, gesturing at a stunningly handsome man with the perfect
gym-honed body of a Greek statue. Coop gazed at the large cock and
taut buttocks and felt nothing. He made to protest when Russell
slipped a box of rubbers into Coop's shirt pocket, but paused when
he saw the stripper's face. It wasn't perfect, for the face was
too handsome, too perfect, and Coop suddenly wanted a face with
generous lips and blue-green eyes. But in dim light, he could make
the necessary mental adjustments.



Ioan disentangled himself from his besotted dance partner. He had
cranked up his long-out-of-practice charm on that man because he
knew Coop was watching. He watched Coop walked away with the
stripper, and knew that his plan to make Coop see him for more
than just an efficient tool had backfired.

The stripper was handsome, well hung, and well built, obviously a
popular figure from the way the patrons cheered him on. Ioan
looked at himself in the dark tinted mirrors on the wall. He saw
an indistinguishable face apart from a tiny scar at the left edge
of his lips. His fingers itched to smash the glass, anything.
Instead he followed Coop and his companion.

Coop had led the man into the dark, dingy men's room. Ioan
swallowed dryly as his ache in his heart throbbed painfully. He
wished the faux fog in the club wasn't too thick, for it made his
eyes water. He saw Coop whisper something to the man and the
latter laughed, then Coop shut the cubicle door.

Ioan didn't think; he quietly stepped into the next cubicle and
shut the door quietly. He stared at the thin wall separating him
and the soft laughter, the rustling of clothes being pulled off in
ardent lust, and wanted to rage at the unfairness of it all. It
should be he with Coop in that cubicle. It should be he who was
now murmuring soft nothings when Coop undoubtedly kissed him hard.
Ioan placed his right palm against the smooth wall, and felt the
wall curve gently at the weight of the body pressing against it.
Coop? The stripper?

He heard a voice cry out. It was too low, too rough to be Coop's.
"Oh, oh yes!" the man cried.

Ioan couldn't breathe, placing his head against the wall as his
mouth opened in a silent moan. The sound of cock penetrating ass,
the undeniable soft tearing sound of tight folds of muscles forced
apart by a penis, burned his ears. He unzipped his jeans and let
them and his shorts fall to the floor. He pressed his buttocks
against the wall, spreading his thighs and lifting his buttocks so
that his anus was opened at the point where he imagined Coop's
cock would be pressing up into. He closed his eyes, letting the
tears fall, his hands pressing vainly at the smooth wall. And then
he felt Coop move. The slow, loud slapping sounds mingling with
muted moans and thudding against the wall. Ioan pressed hard
against the bumping of the wall, imagining each thrust of Coop's
cock up his ass.

"You're so fucking tight," he heard Coop say.

Ioan's right hand slipped up his shirt and with one frenzied tug
pulled it over his head. Completely nude, he doubled over when he
heard the man being fucked gave a keening cry, and the wall
pressing to his back became increasingly violent in its shaking.
He pinched his nipple hard as he placed one hand on the floor,
falling to his knees in his own violent lust. The insistent
throbbing in both his ass and cock drove him over, making him jam
his own ass against the wall, twisting and writhing his anal
pucker against the smooth wall, feeling the plastic surface burned
his skin, wanting to scream with the pain of his lust.

Then he saw it - fingers gripping the top of the wall. Ioan rose
unsteadily and pressed his back against the wall. He lifted his
hands and placed his fingers a few millimeters away from those
tensed, gripping fingers.

"Fuck me Coop," he whispered, lost in his own fantasy. "Fuck me
hard. Don't ever let me go, please."

Then he felt those fingers touched his. He raised them, uncaring
of the consequences, and cried when those fingers gripped his, a
brief touching of fingertips. That was enough. "Coop!" he moaned.

He heard a soft cry at the other side. The stripper was coming.
The pounding at the wall increased in its violent frequency, then
he heard Andy cry out his name. "Ioan, oh yes, oh Ioan!" he heard
Coop yell, then nothing else as he collapsed onto his knees. One
touch on his cock was enough to send him orgasming, spilling his
semen onto the floor.




THREE

Ioan didn't dare to move. He was dimly aware of footsteps outside
his cubicle, but he dared not move. He was a coward. Coop knew he
was listening to him fuck next door. Some guys he knew would like
that, but Coop would probably be disgusted. Ioan would be sacked,
and life without Coop was too painful to contemplate at the
moment.

Since when had he sunk into such pathetic depths? Since he walked
into the office and Coop smiled at him, that was when.

Then he heard it. A knock on the door.

"Ioan? Open up. I know you're in there." Silence. Then, "Ioan,
please."

Trembling fingers worked at the latch. Ioan fell back on his
backside and looked up at Coop. A gasp left his lips.

Coop was wearing his clothes still, but the white shirt was
rumpled, shoved as high as possible to his mid-torso with the
buttons still fastened, revealing a taut stomach with a thin line
of silvery white fur bisecting abdominal muscles tensed with
suppressed emotions. Coop was deceptively thin, but his body was
all pure muscle. His trousers were clinging on those slim hips,
barely, and Coop's shorts were pushed under his heavy and hairy
balls, framing a half-erect and sizeable cock still sheathed in
stained condom. Ioan saw the bubble of collected semen at the tip
of the rubber, and felt his own cock jump to life.

Coop shut the door behind him, his face inscrutable. He calmly
pushed his shirt down and undid the buttons one by one. Ioan
couldn't move, stunned as he was, when Andy threw the shirt behind
him. When Coop paused to pull off his trousers, Ioan finally found
his senses. He gently pulled the rubber off Coop, and carefully
spilled the contents onto his chest, throwing his head back as he
felt the warm smooth juices fall down his chest, down his stomach
to pool at the brown fur at the base of his now tensing prick. He
felt Coop's breath on his chest, then the man's tongue and lips as
Coop lapped up his own semen on Ioan's body. Coop sucked at Ioan's
nipples slowly and hard, his teeth grazing and biting the soft but
hard buds, licking and tasting his own semen on them. Ioan
couldn't stop the tears flowing down his face, and Coop lifted his
mouth from Ioan's navel to lick the tears gently.

"I love you Coop. I have been in love with you all these years,"
Ioan sobbed when Coop held him close.

"Hush. I guess I have a lot of lost time to make up for then,"
Coop said. He smiled, a smile so gentle and free of the usual
cynicism that Ioan could only reciprocate in turn. "There, let me
pleasure you, Coop."

Then Ioan was gently laid back on the floor, a far cry from the
way Coop was fucking the now forgotten stripper only fifteen
minutes ago. He would make up for Ioan having to suffer through
that, Coop promised himself. Ioan loved him, and while he wasn't
so sure how he felt about the man, he would learn to make Ioan
happy. His own cock was as hard as a rock, so stiff and painful
that it felt as if he was about to break into two. He gently
spread Ioan's thighs and lapped at the shiny sheen of his seed on
those balls and the base of Ioan's cock. Coop had never actually
done this sort of thing before, tasting his own sperm, but with
Ioan, he wouldn't mind doing anything. Including pushing his
tongue up Ioan's asshole, tasting the man's flavor, letting the
tangy scent of Ioan's masculinity intoxicate him as he rimmed the
man with his tongue. He felt Ioan shift, move, and gasped when he
felt Ioan altering their positions. Ioan was too short to perform
a mutual rimming, not when Coop's head was buried between Ioan's
thighs and his cock barely reaching Ioan's mouth even despite his
height. Hence Ioan's tongue cleaned Ben's thigh instead, running
along the sensitive insides of Coop's thighs.

Coop sighed, wishing he was shorter, Ioan was taller, so that he
could plunge his cock into that obviously willing mouth. His cock
pressed up against Ioan's chest, and Coop slowly humped the man's
chest, resting the shaft on the groove between Ioan's pectorals.
He sucked on Ioan's balls, licked at the delicious juices seeping
from Ioan's cock slit, his own hips humping harder and harder on
Ioan's chest. Ioan's well-formed chest muscles provided ample
friction on Coop's cock, and as Coop sucked on the other man, he
looked down at the sight of his almost purple cock head rubbing
along Ioan's flat stomach, and at Ioan's transfixed gaze at that
cock.

"You want it, Ioan?" he asked even as he reached for his shirt. He
sensed more than he heard the man's consent.

It was all he could do to violently rip the silver foil, and then
he was ready.

"No, wait." Ioan reached up and kissed Coop.

Coop loved those lips. He licked, nibbled on them like he had
dreamed of doing. "What are you doing?" he asked when Ioan broke
off the kiss. He watched, feeling his heart beat even faster, when
Ioan gently held his own cock and squeezed the tip gently. A large
drop of creamy fluid seeped from Ioan's cock slit, and he rubbed
the tip against Coop's rubber-covered cock. Coop watched,
transfixed, as Ioan's semen and preseminal fluids slowly slicked
Coop's cock into shine and ready to use. Then Ioan lowered himself
on that lubricated cock, inch by inch, until Coop's crotch hair
mashed with his hairy pucker. Ioan's heavy balls nestled Coop's
cock in one fiery furnace.

Coop thrust up savagely even as Ioan grounded hard on him. He
gripped Ioan's hips hard, leaving bruises, bruising his own back
in his rough fucking. Ioan's shout of pleasure was only two
seconds ahead of Coop's, right before Coop shuddered and poured
himself into Ioan even as their lips meet in a violent kiss.




FOUR

Coop was a miserable man. For one whole day his secretary had
disappeared, and he was lost both in his job and in his heart. He
had taken Ioan home from their fuck session in the club two days
ago, ignoring his friends' catcalls, and on his bed Ioan had
fucked him with a violent passion equaling his. And in the morning
Ioan was gone.

"Coop, you tell me you actually forgot about the meeting today?"
Rusell demanded two hours earlier. "The meeting was specially to
hear your report on the Matheson contract. And you fucking bloody
forgot about it?"

Coop felt like sobbing. He didn't. "Ioan is the one who arranges
these things for me," he said, almost blubbered, actually.

"So where's Ioan?" Russell asked.

"I don't know. He upped and left me after that night," Coop said
miserably.

For the millionth time now, he sat in his office and wondered what
he did wrong that drove Coop away. Did he scare Ioan away with his
lust? He scared himself too, for he was usually more sedate with
his lovers. Coop scowled at the unmanned table that was Ioan's
workplace. Inconsiderate asshole, Ioan didn't consider how his
defect would make Coop realize just how much he had relied on
Ioan. And then there were those pills Ioan gave Coop every day. He
didn't even know what those pills were for, Coop realized. Had he
contracted a disease without him knowing it? If so, it was fucking
evil for Ioan to leave him here to die. He didn't even know where
his pills were kept.

He rustled through Ioan's neat black journal that was his planner.
Coop learned that he - or rather, Ioan was the one doing it on his
behalf - had been sending cards and flowers to various sick or ill
or birthdaying or celebrating persons Coop didn't even know. Ioan
was the one who arranged those PR campaigns necessary for Coop's
success in his field. Coop didn't even know his sister had a new
boyfriend, the man Ioan had contracted a card to be sent to last
June on the man's birthday.

"I will never take you for granted again, Ioan," he vowed aloud.
"Just come back here."

He found Ioan in his bachelor pad that night. "You son of a
bitch!" Coop shouted, throwing down his take-away Chinese food
without a care for his expensive Persian carpet. "Why the hell did
you take off like that?"

"I don't know," Ioan said simply. "If I won't do it again, will
that be enough?"

"Just don't do that again," Coop said, all anger deflated now that
Ioan's back. "Okay, what's my plan for today?"

"Well," Ioan toyed with Coop's tie like a loving wife.

A loving wife. Coop froze, stunned by the clarity of it all and
the almost uncontrollable elation he felt at the thought of Ioan
standing here every day, adjusting his tie. So lost was he in a
nice, almost naively rosy picture of the future that he had to
cock his head at something Ioan said.

Ioan indicated a large box on the table. "That's everything about
my past. No secrets. Just all the solo softcore videos and photos
I did in my past." Ioan swallowed nervously. "I'm not ashamed of
what I did, but I will not want you to be embarrassed down the
road when my past becomes exposed."

Coop pulled out a black-and-white glossy photograph - Ioan
standing under the rain, wearing only a soaked see-through shirt
that tried in vain to cover Ioan's crotch. Another photo had Ioan
looking like an innocent young man making a cup of coffee - except
that his cock was jutting out like an erect pillar of flesh
between the edges of his dressing gown. And good heavens, a giant
German shepard was licking at the cock tip.

He gaped at Ioan, who cringed, expecting the worst.

"I never did anything that involved actual penetration - it's all
solo," Ioan said. A weak defense, but he would grasp at the
slightest of straws to keep Coop.

"This is amazing," Coop said, pole-axing Ioan into shock.
"Seriously, gosh, these are hot. I would like..." He spread his
legs, thrusting the jutting erection in his crotch forward.
"Ioan," he tried to say through his burning fever of desire, "I
will never be embarrassed with anything you did in the past, and I
will cut off my arms before I let them hurt you in any way."

Ioan pulled him close. "I think you already have made a decision."

"How well you know me," Coop agreed. He rummaged through the box.
"Come on, screw dinner. Let's get to bed and enjoy these hot
beauties."

"You're actually okay with these?"

"Okay? I want these blown up and framed," Coop said cheerfully,
flipping through more photographs. "I'll also invite my older
relatives to take a look."

Ioan laughed as Coop pulled him into the bedroom. Oh, and they
didn't forget the box.
