THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Jesus

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

He was twelve when he persuaded sweet fifteen-year old Suzy
Machado to drop her skirts and let him suckle at her clit. But
rather than remembering with fondness how he, already a charmer
with a reputation of seducing girls into letting him play with
their bodies, managed to talk Suzy into letting him lose his
virginity to her, he instead recalled the painful and bloody welts
on his back as his father whipped him with the belt when Suzy
ended up pregnant. He could still hear the tears of his mother or
the scared screams of his sisters as his father beat him in the
living room before the rest of his family.

What an odd thing to remember when one was dying, Jesus Manfredo
Hoban thought the moment the pounding headache ebbed to a
tolerable level and he could form a coherent thought in his head.
He had spent his life defiantly going against his father's
insistence that he lived morally and only spilled his seed into
his wife. Jesus had two wives - had being the operative word,
since his first marriage lasted only for three days (he was drunk,
seventeen, and in Vegas - shit happened) and his second for two
years before his wife caught him in bed with both her brother and
her brother's wife - but that didn't stop him from ejaculating his
seed into any one of his many lovers. Unlike his namesake, Jesus
was a lowlife. He would be the first to admit it. He was, after
all, the bastard who deliberately had affairs with other married
women, not caring if he ended up impregnating them because they
couldn't hold any claim to him, not when they were already
married. He made sure that his victims were women who married old
men for money, power, and other shit, women who would be generous
to a young stud like him. He also played stud to men who could
reward him generously for his services but those men were few
compared to women. Sometimes, Jesus thought he preferred men to
women when it came to sex.

Where was he? Maybe he was dead. Jesus was expecting to go
straight to hell when he died. He knew he was nothing but a sleazy
male whore after all. No, worse than a whore, he amended, because
a whore at least worked for money. Jesus treated sex and people's
hearts no better than toys to be broken at will. He didn't care
how many homes he broke, how many children he had sired
carelessly, or whether he would ruin the life of the person he
fucked. One of the blessings - or curses - of the Hoban men was
that they were, with few exceptions, always fertile. It was not
unheard of for them to knock up women even when these men swore on
their lives that they were wearing rubber. Only the knife could
stop those potent Hoban sperm from finding eggs to fertilize, and
Jesus certainly wouldn't subject himself to the knife.

So, was he in hell? Certainly when the plane crashed he thought he
would be going to hell. Jesus stood up shakily and surveyed
himself and his surroundings. His shirt was torn and his chest
boasted a few bloody gashes. Throwing off his tattered shirt,
Jesus ripped it and bandaged his wounds with the strips of his
shirt as best as he could. He remembered coming hard inside that
cute air stewardess as they fucked in the plane toilet, thinking
with perverse satisfaction of his potent hot come swimming towards
her unsuspecting eggs and fertilizing one of them. Maybe he'd give
her triplets like he gave Donald Trump's fianc‚e. He had the
reputation of the Wall Street Asshole to live up to, after all, a
bloody Hispanic upstart who dared to rise from the streets and
became as educated as those white folks and beat them at the game
of making money. They hated him, they respected and feared his
power and influence that stemmed from his ability to play the
stock markets as if he was psychic.

He was on a barren island, it seemed, with sand stretching as far
as his eyes could see, except for a small hill in the distance.
Hoping that he would find someone who could help him or at least
tell him where he was or how he was in a plane crash at one moment
and adrift on this fucking place with no sign of plane wreckage
the next, he made his way towards the hill. But he had taken only
five or six steps when pain shot up from his left foot to seize
him in paralyzing agony that he had never felt before. The agony
was worse then when he was shot in the stomach during a street
fight in his misspent youth. He opened his mouth to scream but
mercifully the world went black instead.

He was dreaming again, he thought, although this time he was at
least in a dream of more pleasant substance compared to his
previous dream. Gentle hands helped him - up or down, he couldn't
be sure anymore - and he was lifted off his feet. He smelled a
faint tinge of sweat mingled with the more potent scent of
maleness, a fragrance that he had always been intoxicated by since
a gentle English teacher in his high school seduced him into
enjoying gay sex, and he wished that he had the strength to press
his face closer to inhale the musky scent. His consciousness
threatened to slip away as he was starting to relax, and Jesus had
no energy not to succumb to the darkness.



He awoke to consciousness with a start. He was in a comfortable
room smelling of. he couldn't identify the light flowery scent but
it was a fine scent, calming him down and making him feel at ease.
He looked at his watch, which was working fine, and his head was
surprisingly calm and clear enough to make the calculation and
realized that he had been unconscious for nearly a week since the
day he stepped on that plane for a business trip in New Delhi.
Perhaps he had dreamed the whole flight and he was still in the
bedroom of his latest one-night-stand, whoever he or she was? No,
he wasn't. His left foot was bandaged and there were clean and
fresh bandages on the wounds on his chest. Someone had removed his
pants because Jesus was wearing only his Calvin Klein boxer-
briefs.

"Good morning," said a pleasant male voice.

Jesus turned his head at the doorway. He swallowed as his eyes
feasted on the sight of an ordinary-looking man whose face was
neither good-looking nor ugly - his looks were just ordinary. The
man was of average height as well. His physique, judging from what
Jesus could make out underneath the man's simple T-shirt and loose
jeans, was also unremarkable - "slim" was the best Jesus could
come up with. But Jesus thought this man was the most beautiful
creature he had ever laid eyes on. It was the man's eyes that made
Jesus gasp, for they were of a shade of dark and deep blue to the
point that they were almost lavender gems.

"Who are you? Where am I?" Jesus asked. He wished he could be his
charming self but right now he was too disorientated to be on his
best behavior.

"I'm Ephram. I found you unconscious on the beach so I took you
in. Lucky for you I'm a halfway decent paramedic so I cleaned you
up the best I can and bandaged what needed to be bandaged." Ephram
placed a tray of simple sandwiches and a glass of orange juice
gently on Jesus' hips and Jesus found himself hungry - both for
food and for Ephram. His cock was already hardening to its full
length and Jesus had to lift his thighs a little to hide his randy
cock's tumescence under the sheets. "You're feeling okay?"

"Yeah," said Jesus. He was feeling fine if he could look at Ephram
and wondered what sounds the man would make when he came. "And I'm
Jesus. Really, that's my name." He smiled out of habit to reassure
people who would always think he was joking when he told them his
name. Ephram smiled back and that sight caused Jesus' cock to
throb painfully.

"I can contact my father and he'll get people to come here and
take you back to the mainland," said Ephram. "In fact, I nearly
did until I realized that I didn't know what you would like to
do."

"That's nice," Jesus said, relieved that he was nearer to
civilization than he realized. "Where am I?"

"You're at Cat Island, which is just a name, really, of one of the
many islands owned privately by my father. We're about fifteen
hours' journey from Cape Town. My father has several private
planes that can take you there."

"Ephram?"

"Yes?"

Jesus grinned, knowing full well the effect it had on people.
"You're blabbering."

"I know." Ephram laughed nervously. "I don't usually meet people
from outside the islands. My father said that I should see the
world like my brothers and sisters but." The fascinating young man
looked at his hands, clearly nervous, before looking back at Jesus
with that expression of curiosity and hesitation that Jesus just
had to respond to by patting at the bed and gesturing to Ephram to
sit beside him. "You're naked except for your underwear," Ephram
said guilelessly and Jesus laughed.

"I won't bite," said Jesus, "unless you want me to." He took a
bite from a sandwich (strawberry jam, he tasted, and he thought it
was delicious), not really tasting it as he was hungering for
Ephram instead but glad that he had something to fill his stomach
nonetheless.

Ephram surprised him into brief silence when the young man
nervously pulled his T-shirt over his head and stood before Jesus
in resolute determination. "I'm not sure about the biting," said
Ephram with a clear catch in his voice, "but maybe if you could."

Jesus put the tray on the floor and kicked off the sheets. The
sight of his erect cock, the shaft escaping his underwear,
throbbing hard and jutting high against his flat washboard
stomach, the tip reaching at least two inches higher than his
navel, caused Ephram to gasp. Wordlessly, the man climbed onto the
bed until he had his head between Jesus' thighs, but Jesus knew at
once from the man's tentative licks that Ephram was unfamiliar
with cock sucking. He gently lifted Ephram so that he could see
the man's face and kissed Ephram hard. His tongue masterfully
forced Ephram's stunned lips to part so that he could explore
Ephram's mouth. Ephram at first could only make small moans of
muted pleasure as Jesus' tongue rubbed against his erotically but
soon Jesus found courage and confidence to try and emulate the
erotic strokes and caresses of Jesus' tongue in his mouth. Soon,
he was the one whose tongue was licking and tasting Jesus. They
groaned together in pleasure as Jesus and Ephram drowned in that
kiss, their hands slowly removing Ephram's clothes and Jesus'
underwear

Only after he needed to catch his breath did Jesus break the kiss.
"Now see how the professionals do it," he told Ephram as he moved
down the man's body, raining sweet and hot kisses along Ephram's
torso and stomach until his mouth touched Ephram's throbbing
erection. Ephram groaned and forced his eyes to remain open so
that he could watch Jesus slowly took his cock into the man's
mouth even as pleasure exploded in Ephram's body. "I. Jesus!"
Ephram cried as his inexperienced body lost control of his
pleasure and his balls violently expelled his creamy juices into
Jesus' mouth. Jesus swallowed, making sounds of pleasure as his
experienced mouth captured every drop Ephram had to offer. Ephram
flopped back on the bed, sated and weak from his orgasm, but Jesus
continued licking at the man's cock crown, teasing the sensitive
ridge in ways that had Ephram once more hardening with lust. For
the next hour - or was it hours? - Jesus took his time to savor
and sucked Ephram, sucking and licking every inch of Ephram's cock
and testicles until Ephram couldn't stop coming again and again
until his balls ached in protest.

Only when Ephram begged brokenly "Please." not knowing what he was
begging for did Jesus finally took mercy on him and covered
Ephram's pleasure-slaked body with his. "Please." begged Ephram
again, and then Jesus was kissing him. Only this time Jesus' lips
parted over Ephram's and Ephram found some of his own come that he
had shot into Jesus' mouth flooding back into his own mouth.
Jesus' tongue moved in to conquer, only this time he was slowly
relishing the act of using his tongue to lick and scoop out
Ephram's own come from Ephram's mouth as if he was enjoying a
feast of ice cream. Ephram's tongue matched Jesus' and they were
both drunken with pleasure and intoxicated on their shared feast
of Ephram's creamy juices that Ephram was only languidly aware of
the pressure of Jesus' wide and moist cock crown pressing against
the entrance into anus. Jesus kissed Ephram hard as he brutally
thrust his thick cock into Ephram and Ephram screamed into Jesus'
mouth, arching his back violently as every nerve in his lower body
painfully protested against the invasion of Jesus' cock that
forced Ephram wide open and impaled on the man's thick spiking
penis.

Jesus gave shallow quick thrusts, wanting Ephram to get used to
his size as well as hoping to control himself. He nearly came on
the spot the moment his cock head managed to push itself through
Ephram's unbelievably tight pucker into the hot furnace of the
man's anal sheath and even as he tried to catch his rhythm, he
could feel his cock leaking copious drops of lubrication as well
as potent semen into Ephram's anus. "I'm sorry, Ephram," he
whispered as he thrust home savagely once, driving his cock
straight in to the balls (and feeling some delicate blockage in
Ephram's anus give way), withdrew slowly, and then thrust home one
more time with a savagery that had his pelvic bone smashing into
Ethan's with a loud and powerful slap. And so he went, driving his
cock deeply in and slowly out of Ephram's tight hot ass, as he
held Ephram and tried to kiss the man's lips, chin, and even ears
while Ephram howled, sobbed, and screamed in pleasure-pain with
each thrust of Jesus' cock deep into his anus. His legs were
spread wide by Jesus' powerfully muscled thighs as Jesus had
Ephram pinned to the bed with his cock and arms, with Ephram's
buttocks lifting in primal instinct to meet Jesus' every cock
thrust.

Once, Ephram experimented with a vibrator and pushed it as deep as
he could dare up his ass. Jesus' cock, however, was plunging in
and violating him deeper than that long and thick vibrator did. It
felt as if Jesus filled every inch of his anal passage with that
thick cock to packing point and straight up into his rectum, if
that was possible, because Ephram felt completely stuffed with
virile cock to the point of bursting. When Jesus withdrew that
cock, Ephram thought he could weep at the sense of emptiness it
caused.

Animalistic sounds were coming from Ephram's mouth, sounds that he
couldn't even recognized as his, as his body shuddered violently
while orgasm after orgasm splintered through his body. Their
breathing was harsh and the sound of their flesh violently meeting
blended with both men's lusty sounds of pleasure as they increased
their fuck pace. Ephram was lost in his personal climax after
climax but he could sense that Jesus was close. And that dear man,
for making Ephram come so hard and so often, deserved his succor.
Ephram tightened his ass, screaming at the effort, and then Jesus
gave a husky shout of triumph as he gripped Ephram's thighs in a
death grip and thrust home so hard that Ephram gritted his teeth
at the impact. Jesus drove his cock in and out of Ephram, his
rhythm lost as he surrendered to his own climax, his fluids
exploding in powerful pulses in Ephram.



"Ephram!" The name burst out of Jesus' mouth as he came to
consciousness. "Ephram?" he called again as he realized that he
was lying in a bed alone. "Where are you, Ephram?" he called as he
tried to sit up in his bed. The last he remembered, after that
incredible fuck with his rescuer, was the pain when he realized
that he had torn something in his leg during the energetic fuck.
Ephram was apologetic and near-tears, in fact, as he tried to
staunch the bleeding. Jesus tried to tell Ephram that everything
was okay but he fainted again before he could do that.

"You're up. Good. Now I can get you the hell out of here."

That wasn't Ephram. It was a manlier, lower baritone while
Ephram's voice was that of a tenor of a young man who was at the
brink of adulthood. Jesus turned to the doorway and saw a
powerfully-built, very handsome, and bearded man of indeterminate
age standing there and glaring at Jesus in a manner that was
decidedly hostile. Even with that hostility targeted at him, Jesus
couldn't fail to sense the undeniable virility radiating from this
man's physique. He was immune to the man sexually (his taste ran
to slender types, after all) but he was intimidated enough the way
a wolf would be towards the alpha wolf of the pack, but he would
be damned if he showed his intimidation to this stranger.

"Where's Ephram?" he asked.

"I don't know who the hell you are talking about. I'm here to send
you back to the mainland. Get dressed. I have no time to wait for
you."

"Where the fuck is Ephram?" Jesus asked. A growl reached his ears
and he realized that it was from him.

"There is no Ephram that I know of. You must be dreaming."

Jesus could feel the fluids and slippery secretions of his
coupling with Ephram still fresh on his cock, thighs, and lower
abdomen. "You tell me," he growled, "or I'll - "

The man's fist slammed into his jaw. He thought he heard the man
say "That's for fucking with my son" but he could also see stars
from the punch so he might be mistaken. The world went black -
again.

"You shouldn't have done that," Ion Davidov said to his lover, his
disapproval evident, as he stood at the doorway.

Connor Axelrod gazed at his lover fondly. "And you, baby, is
supposed to stay out of view."

Ion wasn't offended by the man's words. He knew that he should
stay out of view. People would not know how to react to the sight
of him. Getting down gracefully to one knee, he touched the
unconscious young man's neck and felt the pulse strong under his
fingers.

"I didn't kill him," Connor stated the obvious.

"But is it necessary to be so rude to this man?" asked Ion. He
never liked aggressiveness, having had enough in his life before
he met Connor. "Ephram is quite taken with him."

"How is Ephram?" Connor asked, genuine remorse creeping in his
voice as he thought of his son.

Ion knew how much Connor loved Ephram and placed his arms around
the man's waist in a comforting gesture. "He's taking it well. He
understands the damage he could have done on all of us. Ephram is
sorry."

"But is he sorry because of what he did with this man or because
of what he has to do afterwards?" asked Connor as he looked at the
unconscious man on the floor. "Ephram should know better. Hell, I
should have been more careful. I took care of the plane wreck,
relocating it and the bodies to some island far away from our
home, but I missed this guy. How the hell could I be so careless?"

"But it's okay now," Ion reassured Connor, "because we'll drop
this guy in Cape Town and no one will believe him when he talks
about an island, especially when he doesn't know where he is at
the moment."

Connor smiled at Ion. "Yeah, you're right." He bent down to pick
the unconscious man up and slung him over his powerful shoulders.
"Well, let's get him out of here!"





TWO

A year or so later

He was home. Jesus smiled without humor as he steered his boat
towards the fog-covered island. After so many months of trying, he
had finally found his own little Oz. What would those smug doctors
in the asylum that they locked him up in say? He had learned to
shut up and play along until they released him a month after they
put him in there for what they thought was crazy behavior on his
part. Crazy, he? Who was the crazy one now? He didn't imagine
anything. There was a fucking island here and now he had proof to
show the world that Jesus Hoban was not crazy when he talked about
being in a plane crash and being rescued by an angel who.

Jesus gripped at his chest where his heart was as pain seized him.
This pain was momentary and it always passed, as he knew from
experience. He had this pain for the last year since he was found
wandering around Cape Town, lost and disoriented, whenever he
thought of an angel with beautiful eyes and an anus so hot and
tight that when he came inside the angel, he felt as if his very
blackened soul had found some semblance of salvation. His family
members, friends, and even enemies thought he had gone mad after
his mysterious ordeal in South Africa. They had a fucking article
in Times about the "fall of a Wall Street genius".

He had no reason to live other than to find this mysterious place.
His entire life savings were used up to locate and finance his
trip here, his career had died the moment he was incarcerated in
that fucking madhouse, and he shut the door on his family members
and his very few friends because he couldn't bear to have them
reminding him that he was insane to believe that his angel was
real.

Now, he knew that the island was real.

He docked the boat behind an outcrop of rocks and stealthily
climbed up the cliff. He had trained with ex-SEAL members and
mountain climbers, he practiced using sixteen different kinds of
guns, and he had honed his physical endurance and abilities to the
point that he could hold his breath underwater for thirty minutes,
swim and run at professional athlete speed, and perform gymnastic
motions like somersaults and high leaps without blinking an eye.
He didn't know what kind of man he had become in his obsessive
drive to locate this place and he didn't care. All his training
couldn't help him sidestep the sophisticated security enhancements
of the island, however, and he had barely set foot on the island
for ten seconds when a loud, piercing alarm sounded, cutting the
silence like a blade.

Men burst out from buildings, all well-equipped and ready to shoot
intruders at sight. These men were something Jesus was equipped to
avoid, fortunately. With a quick leap out of the way of the lights
scanning for him, Jesus started running for the shadows, not
knowing where he should be going but running for the hell of it
nonetheless. And then he heard the barks of the dogs. Shit.

He kept running, his well-trained and well-honed instincts helping
him leap across ravines and gorges in the dark. He climbed up
trees in an agility that he never had a year ago, leaping from
branch to branch in an attempt to avoid the men on his tracks. But
they were always on his tail, fuck it to hell. He ran and ran
until eventually his legs trembled with exhaustion. His eyes
spotted a cave in a distance and he ran for it.

"He came here. I can scent him." Jesus gripped the knife in his
hand, anticipating on using it, as he heard voices coming near the
entrance of the cave. He frowned. What did those fuckers mean when
they said they could scent him?

"And I saw him running in here," came a female voice. "He's
trapped. There is no way out of the cave."

Jesus heard the distinct sounds of someone sniffing the air. "Yes,
I can scent him. And if I can, the dogs will soon. Ephram will be
upset if Dad's men catch this man."

"If he is the one Ephram is moping over," said the female.

"Who else will come here? You read those clips Ephram kept in his
journal, Lucy."

"Maybe it's better if this guy is dead then. Ephram cries every
night when he writes in his journal, although he pretends that he
doesn't."

"Hah, he'll be mad if he knows that you're spying on him again!"

Jesus took a deep breath and with a roar, pounced on the nearest
intruder, hoping to have some advantage of surprise. To his
surprise, however, he saw himself looking at the terrified face of
a boy who couldn't be more than ten years old. He looked at the
female - at the face of a girl about the boy's age as well. The
boy's nose twitched. "That's him, Lucy!" he whined.

"Shut up, Abe, I can see that! He's cuter that Ephram's
description of him in the journal."

"Who." No, that wasn't the question Jesus wanted answered. "Where
is Ephram? Take me to him, please."

"Dad won't like it," Abe warned.

"He already won't like it that we sneaked out of our rooms when we
heard the alarm," said Lucy reasonably. "Would you let us go if we
take you to Ephram?" she asked Jesus.

Jesus lowered the knife from Abe's throat. "I will do anything as
long as you can take me to Ephram," he answered truthfully.

Jesus nodded as Abe talked about "the older kids" having their own
rooms until they "went out" - to the mainland, Jesus assumed - and
Lucy occasionally cut in with her own guileless ramblings. From
those two kids, Jesus pieced together the fact that they were
Jesus' siblings and this island was very fortified and protected
against intruders. Jesus couldn't discover why, although he would
suppose that their almighty father would most likely be some
terrorist or arms dealer with reasons to have some secret hideout.
He didn't care about anything right now, his blood rushing in a
head-clearing rush through his body as his expectations soared. He
would see Ephram again. As they made their way into a building
(Jesus noticed that Lucy keyed in 6744358211 as the code to unlock
the door), Jesus' heart thundered in his chest.

Ephram was as beautiful as he remembered. When Ephram opened his
door and he stood there, shocked into silence as he stared at
Jesus, he was everything Jesus remembered. Ephram regained his
senses to tell Lucy and Abe to run, and something in his face
caused the two kids to quietly flee the hallway, leaving Jesus and
Ephram alone in this hallway.

"They told me I was crazy to believe that you are real," Jesus
said through the heavy knot in his throat. "They gave me drugs and
they even beat me when I insisted that you were real. But you are
real, right? Or have I finally gone mad?"

Ephram was crying now. Jesus couldn't imagine why anyone would cry
over a lowlife scum like him. "I have wronged you so much, Jesus,"
sobbed the man. "I'm so sorry."

Jesus wanted to just hold the man in his arms and comforted the
man. He hadn't held anyone in his arms since he lost Ephram and
his manners had fallen to the wayside over the time he spent
learning from soldiers, mercenaries, criminals, and worse the art
of tracking, scouting, and handling weapons, but he was certain
that he could remember how to comfort someone in his arms. But he
ended up kissing Ephram violently and Ephram kissed him back just
as wildly until their lips bled instead. It was Ephram who ripped
open Jesus' wet and soiled shirt so that Ephram could rain urgent
kisses over Jesus' erect dark wine-colored nipples, while Jesus
could only groan and thrust his swollen crotch into Ephram's hand.

A baby's cry interrupted their madness, guiding them back to
sanity that they didn't want.

"Who's that?" Jesus asked. The sound was from Ephram's room.

"Jesus, please - "

Jesus charged into the room (briefly taking in the clean, well-lit
living area mostly filled with shelves of books, taking note of
the location of the bed in the room), only to stop dead in his
tracks when he saw the cot beside what was obviously Ephram's bed,
at the baby crying inside the cot. Jesus gripped the sides of the
cot as he took in the baby's dark brown complexion until his
knuckles whitened from the effort. "He's mine," he whispered, his
instinct telling him what his brain couldn't immediately process.

"Jesus, I." But Ephram didn't know what to say, clearly.

Jesus' surprise melted into an unfamiliar burst of warmth as the
baby stopped crying and gave him a gurgle of laughter-chuckle
sound. The baby waved his hands (so short, so stumpy, Jesus
thought) and Jesus took that as an invitation to carry the baby in
his arms. To his relief, the baby laughed happily as he rested his
chin on Jesus' broad shoulder. He must be holding his son right,
he thought with a rush of satisfaction.

"He's our son," he said, knowing it to be true even as he said
those words aloud. He turned to Ephram who was staring at him with
a stricken look on his face. "You and me made him that day when we
fucked," he said. He gave Ephram a speculative look. "How." he
started to ask but shook his head as he realized that he could
always ask questions later. Just like how he would think about why
this kid made him so filled with joy when he had sired twenty-six
bastards at least before his twenty-fifth birthday, kids that he
never given much thought of that he allowed other men to claim as
theirs. "My son - our son," he said instead. "What do you call
him?"

"Roman," whispered Ephram.

"It's a beautiful name," agreed Jesus. "And." His words failed him
as he tried to tell Ephram that he would try to be a good father
to Roman just like how he would be a good husband to Ephram. "I
want to stay here, Ephram, with you," was all he could say. With
one hand carefully cradling Roman on his shoulder, he reached out
with his other hand to Ephram. Ephram took it, and they gripped
each other's hand steadily as he took a step forward towards
Jesus. That was how Connor, Ion, and a dozen security officers
found them, hands entwined, the baby sleeping on Jesus' shoulder,
and Jesus and Ephram kissing each other as if they have never left
each other's arms since the dawn of time.

Jesus recognized the handsome and powerfully muscled bearded man
and lifted a brow as the other man didn't even try to look
sheepish at his lie to Jesus when they first met. But Ephram
confirmed Jesus' suspicion when he broke off from the kiss and
muttered in a guilty tone, "Dad."

So this was the mighty all-important ruler of the island. Instead
of some pampered fat slob, Ephram's father was built like a
workhorse and his muscular bulk would dominate and intimidate
lesser men. Jesus, however, felt only an instinctive need to
challenge the authority of this man, although he kept his behavior
in check for Ephram. The slender man standing beside Ephram's
father was nearly pushed to the background in the presence of the
undeniably virile robustness of the latter, but he was in his own
right a slender but unmistakably ethereal creature whose beauty
defied conventional definition or description. He looked ordinary
but he was strikingly beautiful at the same time. It was evident
where Ephram mostly inherited his looks from.

Jesus had to conclude that this man was the one who gave birth to
Ephram because there was an unmistakable bulge in his stomach
region underneath his loose robes, and Jesus had enough pregnant
women in his experience to know the difference between a pregnant
woman and an overweight one.

"I have come to ask your son's hand in marriage," said Jesus
calmly to the father, although he wondered whether the word "son"
was appropriate given the gender-defying sights he had seen on
this island. "You owe me this chance to be with Ephram. I would
have been by his side instead of trying to find my way back here
all these months if you haven't taken me from him."

There was silence as the others, including Ephram and the man by
his father's side, instinctively recognized two powerful alpha
males standing in each other's way and waited carefully to see
what the other man would do to Jesus.

"His name is Gregory," said Ephram's father finally. "Ephram is
his middle name but he prefers to go by that. And my name is
Connor."

But when Jesus took Connor's offered hand and shook it, Connor
only deliberately crushed Jesus' hand as much as he could with his
grip. Jesus grinned insolently and responded in kind. Both men
managed to refrain from nursing their pained hands until they were
out of sight of each other.

"Connor."

"Welcome to the family, Jesus."

"I'm looking forward to."



Jesus had the best of both worlds and he didn't understand what he
did to be so fucking lucky. As he urgently pinched Ephram's
nipples with his hands, he pumped his hips powerfully, driving his
heated engorged cock into Ephram's burning hot asshole in deep and
bruising thrusts while his mouth coaxed Ephram to kiss him. His
tongue penetrated to lick Ephram's tongue and the insides of
Ephram's cheeks in the same rhythm as his cock was sodomizing
Ephram's sensitized anus, the dual erotic dance of their flesh
driving them into blessed intoxication as well as blurring the
boundaries of their bodies until they felt as if they were joined
in the mind and soul as well as in body.

Yes, he had the best of both worlds, he thought in pure masculine
satisfaction as he felt Ephram convulse in another white-hot
climax and felt the dam in his balls shatter in response to the
erotic sight of Ephram in throes of ecstasy. As his balls
tightened and Jesus prepared to send the first of many fertile
ejaculations deep up Ephram's rectum, Jesus marveled at his good
fortune to find a male lover, whom he had always preferred to
women, who could also satisfy the erotic thrill he had whenever he
poured himself into his lover, knowing that right now his sperm
cells were surging into Ephram's system, seeking out eggs to
fertilize with deadly efficiency, Hoban style, an efficiency that
had in Jesus' experience overcame even rubber and IUDs. Knowing
that he was most likely impregnating Ephram with every red hot
rush of his ejaculation into Ephram only intensified his ecstasy,
causing Jesus to collapse brokenly in Ephram's arms as he kissed
the man and whispered sweet obscene words of affection in between
heated kisses while his body, stimulated beyond reason, poured
forth a deluge of come in such an amount that would shock any of
Jesus' past conquests.

After all, with the man he loved, especially a man with whom he
could create a child with to satisfy his primal masculine instinct
to spread his genes unapologetically, an instinct unsuppressed by
civilization and evolution, Jesus' body was primed to ensure that
Ephram would be thoroughly impregnated before the night was over.
Just to make sure, however, he began his seduction of Ephram all
over again despite his confidence that his cock had done its job.
Since his cock had never softened despite his powerful organism
and that he thought he had never seen anything more beautiful than
the sight of a sweat-sleeked and flushed Ephram after a good fuck,
it wasn't just his unapologetic instinct to propagate that drove
Jesus into plunging his hard cock in and out of Ephram again. By
the time they finally collapsed in exhaustion some three hours
later, both men were broken from their many shared climaxes and it
felt glorious.

As they lay on their bed, listening to Roman's soft sleep sounds
(the baby miraculously managed to sleep soundly through his
parents' fucking), Ephram explained to Jesus about him and Ion and
Jesus listened, not questioning any longer as he knew now that he
loved Ephram without a doubt. Ephram told Jesus of how Connor's
father built this island as a base for genetic manipulation in the
search for eternal youth. When Connor inherited the island after
his father's death, he arrived at the island and freed Ion from
his tormentors, falling in love with Ion in the process. Even when
Ion was a genetic mutant, a humanoid created from the DNA of
various animals in some deranged experiment, Connor fell in love
with the man and ended up building a home for the two of them on
this very island. Because Ion had some rare amphibian gene in his
genetic make-up, he could have children. Ephram was one of the
rare children that resulted to inherit Ion's unusual
hermaphroditic nature. He was definitely male in all appearances,
like Ion, but he had a functional reproductive system that could
enable him to breed. Like Ion, Ephram wasn't "male" or "female" in
the conventional sense. Jesus, not knowing that he was saying
exactly the same words that Connor told Ion, told Ephram as he
held the man in his arms that night that he didn't care whether
Ephram was male, female, both, or neither. "I love you," he said
to Ion, feeling the chains around his heart finally break as he
confessed, "and to me, you are the one I love. No other
description matters."




THREE

Without his clothes, the sight of Connor would have either driven
a mere mortal to lust or into paralysis caused by the sense of
inferiority elicited by the presence of the man. His body was
almost perfect, barring a scar along the left side of his body
that extended from his waist to his ankle (an old accident, said
Connor vaguely), so well-defined in its musculature that would
make Greek god statues pale in comparison. The only sign of age in
Connor was the light gray whorls in his hair and in the liberal
dusking of fur on his torso and stomach as well as the lines on
his face that were caused by his indomitable love and
determination to keep the ones he loved safe and sound from the
world that wouldn't understand them.

But Jesus wasn't driven to lust or intimidated the slightest by
the sight of Connor in only tight red Speedos. In fact, he was all
smiles as he flexed his own body, covered only in blue Speedos
which revealed or concealed as little as Connor's swim trunks,
knowing full well that Connor's eyes widened at the sight of
Jesus' bare physique. He could match Connor's physical perfection
muscle to muscle, hair to hair, from his ruggedly handsome looks
to the huge cock bulge packing between his legs. However, Jesus
was younger than Connor and the fact that Jesus' body wasn't as
hirsute as Connor's was probably no compensation to Connor. Jesus'
insolent grin was predatory as he knew full well that both men
were aware that Jesus could very well try to usurp Connor's place
as the alpha male of this world of theirs.

But that smile was eventually replaced by a gentler, more genuine
version as he helped Connor up to the boat some hours later.
Connor hauled the carcass of the white shark onto the boat.

"Nothing beats a good hunt," said Connor with satisfaction as he
began filleting the carcass that dominated the confines of their
boat. "But you did nearly as good, Jesus."

Jesus laughed. He had never hunted sharks before, much less while
wearing only Speedos and armed with a knife, so this time Connor
did most of the work. "Next time, Connor," said he. "I know now
how to kill those fuckers. You won't be so smug then."

"I have no doubt of that," Connor answered, surprising Jesus. "One
day I will be gone. My children will find their own way around the
world but I worry for Ion and Ephram. But you'll take care of them
for me. I have no doubt of that."

Jesus hissed. "I just love your son, Connor. I'm not good with
responsibilities."

"But you'll learn, Jesus. I wasn't good with responsibilities
before I met Ion. I fucked around in meaningless relationships,
sometimes hurting people just because I could. I can see from your
face that you know what I'm talking about." Connor handed the
knife to Jesus and Jesus silently took over from Connor in
filleting the shark. "But if you love Ephram as much as I love him
and Ion, you'll want to protect them with all your abilities and
beyond that."

"Don't preach at me, old man. I."

"I am an old man," conceded Connor cheerfully.

"Who knocked up his mate without fail each year," said Jesus with
reluctant admiration. "Quit the pretense that you are old and
decrepit, Connor. I've seen thirty-year old athletes who looked
like weaklings compared to you." He wasn't being facetious when he
added, "I hope I'll still be going strong when I'm at your age."

"I'm fifty-eight. I'm not exactly one foot in the grave." Connor
made a disapproving sound when Jesus botched up his filleting
attempt and took the knife from Jesus. "Hard physical labor and a
healthy diet - that's my secret."

"I love it here," Jesus said. "It's so peaceful."

"Yeah," agreed Connor. "But it's hard maintaining the place alone.
I'm glad to have you around to help me out."

In the last few days, somehow both men had come to this moment of
truce. Jesus could have said that he never told Connor that he
would be helping Connor but he wouldn't be fooling anyone if he
said that. Connor was right. He would protect Ephram with his
life. If loving that man meant that he had to devote his life
keeping this sanctuary safe for Ephram and his family, he would
gladly submit himself to the task. "Yeah," he said simply to
Connor.

Connor surprised Jesus by embracing the man. It was an embrace
between a father and a son-in-law, both men made sure of that. In
another life, they might try to dominate each other physically as
well as sexually, but they loved other people now. Hard hirsute
muscular flesh pressed against hard hirsute muscular flesh,
powerful thighs caressed powerful thighs, and two overlarge cocks
came in contact, divided only by thin layers of Lycra and nylon.
But iron will decreed that both men would never cross that line
that could easily be violated. While their cocks instinctively
swelled in that embrace, while their hands lingered a second too
long on the gentle curve of each other's lower back, they broke
the embrace after a few heartbeats without regrets. In fact,
Connor looked at Jesus' swollen cock head protruding through the
waist of the man's trunks and chuckled with good humor. The
chuckle turned into a good-natured curse when they both removed
their trunks and realized that even their cocks were equally
matched, length and girth, and almost identical right down to
their thick veins and the liberal amount of drops of clear fluid
oozing from their slit.

Powerful pulses of come spewed into the sea a few minutes later.
"I win," Jesus said with a triumphant laugh as he stood with his
cock in his hand, having come merely seconds before Connor.
Connor, in a similar pose, joined him in laughter. There would be
many times in the future when they diverted any potentially
dangerous moments between them, when the lines of physical rivalry
could be blurred, into a friendly and harmless jerk-off
competition. As a result, they never became too caught up in
trying to assert their power over the other that they might try to
sexually overwhelm the other as they would have done to other
people in their past. By this unorthodox method of bonding, both
men slowly moved from becoming rivals to the best of friends. But
to be on the safe side, they never told Ephram and Ion about their
many juvenile masturbatory competitions.



Weeks passed into months. Jesus realized that he had healed
completely inside when he found himself thinking that he should
let his family know that he was alive and well. He told Ephram
this, like he always told Ephram everything. While they both know
that Ephram had once left the island only to realize that he
couldn't fit in with the outside world unlike his siblings, Ephram
said that he would be glad to follow Jesus if Jesus wanted to
travel back to America.

"It will only be for a few days," Jesus told Ephram, touched as he
was by Ephram's willingness to leave his safe haven for Jesus.
"You don't have to be with me if you don't want to." He would love
to introduce Ephram to his family but he was pragmatic enough to
realize that he would never be able to explain everything about
Ephram and Roman to them. "I love you," he told Ephram just
because he could and he wanted to. "I love Roman. You two make me
want to be a better man for the two of you." He embraced Ephram
and placed a protective hand over the gentle curve of Ephram's
belly. "And I love this," he whispered, thinking that he could
feel the heart of the child they had created on their first night
of loving when he came looking for Ephram on this island so many
weeks ago.

When he was not learning from Connor the staggeringly many duties
they and the inhabitants of the island, he bonded with Roman and
hoped that he would never disappoint his children. He sat in the
nursery, watching in fascination as Ion and the loyal nursery
staff took care of the many children of Ion and Connor. As he
watched the bustle and tried to learn hands-on the proper method
of feeding, changing, and humoring an infant, he privately was
glad that unlike Ion who produced up a brood of up to eight every
year, Ephram would operate on a more manageable basis. He didn't
mind an occasional twins or triplets, but the idea of handling up
to eight babies every year was enough to make even the balls of a
man with a fetish for pregnancy like him threaten to shrink.

As he labored on his new home over the months and prepared to
bring Ephram and Roman with him for his brief trip to New York
during his free time, however, Ion went into unexpected labor that
November evening and Ephram did the same an hour later. Connor had
shown Jesus the sophisticated room called Hatchery months earlier,
quelling Jesus' worries about Ephram delivering a child in a place
so far from the outside world. So it was an only slightly worried
Jesus that stood naked in a pool of warm water with a naked Ephram
in his arms as Ephram shouted and moaned as he brought Peter
Antonio Hoban into the world. And just beside him, Connor held Ion
in his arms as Ion laid nine gelatinous eggs containing distinct
human embryos within the clear sac into the water. Carefully, the
medical specialists supervising the Hatching, as this important
event was called, scooped the eggs out of the water where the
embryos would be incubated in carefully-regulated vats filled with
artificial amniotic fluid until they develop into recognizable
humanoid infants several weeks later.

Unlike normal humans, however, Ephram and Ion would be so
hormonally charged by their delivery that they would require hard
and long fucks to steady their senses and breathing. Connor,
knowing this very well by now, had his erection long ready and
pulsing to go, and as Ion collapsed in his arms, he gave his
prodigious erection a readying tug before plunging it straight
home into Ion. As Jesus watched in shock, unable to understand why
his father-in-law was fucking his lover before the son-in-law and
his own son, Connor growled at Jesus, "Fuck my son, Jesus, that's
the only way to get them back to normal fast!"

Ephram was breathing hard, as if he had difficulty in doing so.
Without hesitation, Jesus tugged at his cock, trying to make it
hard. It wasn't easy with his state of mind but he managed to have
a half-mast ready in a few minutes. He rammed it tenderly into
Ephram, hoping that he could do the job. He watched the couple
beside him for a while, taking a second to marvel at how Connor
was driving his thick monster cock into Ion and fucking the shit
out of that man. His cock hardened at the erotic sight and Jesus
focused wholly on Ephram. Ephram's eyes opened and he moaned, not
really seeing Jesus in his chaotic state of mind. But he could
certainly feel Jesus' meat packing his ass as he arched his back
and clawed at Jesus' chest. Jesus began fucking his lover back to
earth in steady, languid thrusts. But their coupling soon became
more and more savage as the two of them lost themselves to the
hunger, and soon they were making savage sounds of pleasure that
matched the guttural sounds of Connor and Ion fucking just inches
away from them.

Despite being in water, Ephram's anal passage was coated with
mucus-like material that functioned as lubrication, allowing Jesus
to ram his cock hard and deep again and again into the man without
fear of hurting the man. Ephram mewled and sobbed, unmistakably
asking for Jesus to fuck him harder as he gripped Jesus hard
around the waist and sank his sharp teeth into Jesus' shoulder.
The violent splashes of the water in the pool blended with the
four lustily coupling men's harsh sounds of pleasure as both Ion
and Ephram spewed their creamy fluids into the water without
reservation as they climaxed again and again upon the powerful
cocks of their lovers. Connor grinned at Jesus and Jesus had an
answering grin as they both increased the speed of their blurring
hips, their natural competitive instinct kicking in and both men
caught, without exchanging words, in an innate contest to see who
would last the longer while fucking the shit out of their
partners. But Ion gave one mighty clench of Connor's already too-
sensitized cock at the pivotal moment that Ephram came into a
climax so powerful that Jesus lost control watching his lover come
so hard, however, and soon Connor was shouting in ecstasy, joined
by Jesus' harsh grunts of pleasure, as both men came at the exact
same time into the their respective reasons for living.

"Next time," Jesus mouthed wordlessly to Connor.

"Bring it on," mouthed Connor back just as wordlessly as both men
tried to regain their breathing. There would be a next time, as
both men knew without a doubt that they had just successfully bred
their lovers.
