Disclaimer: The Bee owns none of the characters or products named in this story.
Warning: This story contains mention of prostitution, group sex, violence, m/m orgies
and one wild raccoon.
Summary: Xander is a male prostitute. It is his chosen occupation and he is very
happy with it. One night he takes on a group of clients with a friend and things
do not go as planned. When his friend is found murdered, homicide is called in.
Spike is a brilliant detective with OCD issues. When he is told to hide out in the
woods with the witness to protect, he gets more than he could have imagined.
Special thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banners, the story idea and for holding my
hand during the writing.
Spike was torn. He knew he would absolutely die if he had to spend one
more minute in that soiled and sullied suit. Unfortunately, although he brought
other pressed shirts and, of course, numerous white, pressed boxers, he had
planned on wearing the suit for most of the few days they would be forced to
stay here. Now, the expensive, Italian suit was rendered unwearable.
In fact he could, as he stood there feel the slim and germs as they seeped and
soaked through the fine, costly fabric and settle on his skin. But the thought that
he would actually have to sponge bath in a sink pan sent shudders of revulsion
throughout his body. It was a conundrum. Wash in the sink or live in filth.
'Well apparently.' Spike thought unhappily, 'This little cowboy is about to
Spike opened the suitcase Xander had set on a kitchen chair for him before
he left to cut some firewood. He removed his personals bag and set it
to the side. He did give a quick cursing rant at his partner for the attempt
at humor when he saw the clothing choices, however it was hard to stay mad
when he noted that all the shirts were new and still in sealed plastic.
With a sigh he set the wash pan in the sink and after bleaching it, began to fill
it with hot water. As he waited, he gazed out of the window over the sink
and he watched as Xander moved around in the fading light. Spike watched him
go to a small shed, fumble with the latch and disappear inside. By the time
the pan had filled with steaming water, the boy had stepped out with an ax.
With Xander safely occupied outside, Spike began to remove his clothes which
he tossed in a heap at the side. Regretfully, they would have to join in on the
curtain BBQ tomorrow. No laundry service on earth could render them fit
for use again.
Spike dipped his hands in the hot pan of water. The sharp contrast to the
cool air that chilled his naked body caused him to shiver violently and break
out in goose bumps. It raised the fine hairs on his arms, legs and torso in a
disturbingly pleasant way that made his nut sack tingle.
As he unwrapped his individual bar of oatmeal soap, Spike again noticed
Xander in the clearing outside. His long, thick dark hair brushed softly across
his broad shoulders, swishing as he moved. Spike noticed that as the boy pushed
a stray bit of hair behind his ear, the blinding sunlight would sparkle and gleam off
the large, obviously genuine diamond stud in his ear and the detective wondered
what act a prostitute could perform to earn such an expensive trinket. He also
knew despite his curiosity, he would never shame Xander by asking.
Xander was unaware that he was being watched. He stood, shirtless, his tan,
muscular back was ramrod straight. He had taken a couple practice swings at the
large, old tree stump that was used as a base for chopping wood. When he seemed
comfortable with the feel of the ax in his hands, he set a chunk of wood on the stump
Spike was startled. The sound was so powerful, he imagined he could almost
feel it reverberate thorough the hard wooden floor, into his cold bare feet, up
his corded slim legs and pooling in his crotch.
Uneasy with the feelings that were beginning to stir in his blood, Spike, forced
himself to look away. He quickly washed and rinsed his face, neck, chest
As he rinsed his cloth and prepared to move lower, his eyes again drifted to the
back field. Spike gasp and the soap slipped from his hands into the warm water
at what he saw. The boy's back glistened, brown, and coated with perspiration.
His body was young, strong, sculpted and perfectly defined. Spike nearly drooled
as Xander's arms went high in the air and came down.
Spike's heartbeat and breathing escalated as he reached in and scooped up the
soap, his eyes now locked on the window. Facing away from the cabin, Xander
would methodically pick up a large log from his right, set it on the stump and
as his back and arm muscles flexed and strained, bring the ax down and cause
the wood to cooperate into at least four manageable sections that fell off to
the left before the process repeated.
Despite seeing it coming, each time the deep, hallow sound reached Spike's
ears, he jumped. Working independently from his brain, his hands began
caressing the soap. They worked together to roll it and turn it till the foam
filled his palms and dripped from between his fingers.
Spike's breath hitched and he stepped his feet apart. With his hands bubbly
and slick, Spike watched the sinewy movements as he coated the insides of his
thighs. His bare feet rocked slightly forward as the lather slick fingers moved
instinctively up and he sighed as they found their mark.
Spike tried to find some small corner of his brain to justify that he was innocently
washing himself but even that one little gray cell wasn't buying it so he gave himself
over to the fantasy. What would it be like? To pay. To have Xander take your
money in exchange for showing you all the physical pleasures you never knew
Spike moaned as his hand slid smoothly and easily up and down his rigid, hot
shaft. He couldn't remember ever being this hard, this wanting. He whispered
obscenities under his breath when Xander ran his fingers through his long dark
hair. Spike wondered if Xander would think him a freak if he wanted to wash
the boy's hair. If he would charge extra.
Spike's stomach muscles quivered and his toes curled in the puddles of soapy,
cool water that ran in rivets down the insides of his thighs. The harder Xander
clutched the handle of his tool, the harder Spike gripped his.
With one hand bracing his straining arm against the kitchen sink Spike could feel
the first wonderful stirrings in his spine, sizzling, creeping and burning down towards
his sac and he stripped his meat frantically. Suddenly, Xander tossed the ax to the
side and he bent over, his loose low jeans dipped and the tops of his firm round ass
cheeks peeked out.
Spike's eyes rolled up at the thought that the boy worn no protective underwear.
It was so scandalous, so dirty and wrong that it shot the slowly building orgasm into
warp speed, nearly knocking him off balance with it's sudden power. His body
went rigid and he forgot to breath as the cock in his hand twitched and jerked with
spurts of stringy, white release.
"Oh, Sweet, Lordy Lord."
After what seemed like hours, the spasms stopped and Spike's muscles slowly
relaxed. Finally, he released his happy dick and it gradually, gratefully deflated.
Glancing down, he was disturbed at what he saw. Looking up, he was horrified
at what he didn't. Xander was gone!
Fumbling with his cloth, Spike frantically tried cleaning the soapy layer of bubbles
mixed with apparently gallons of cum off himself. The kitchen would, of course
have to be scrubbed again, but that would come later.
"Hey, you done yet? I got a ton of wood and I found some old papers in
the shed. I can lay up a fire for later."
Xander's sweaty face wore a huge grin as he stuck it in the kitchen doorway.
Spike screamed and tried to cover his exposed privates with what now seemed
to be a very small piece of cloth.
"See here now. I expect a certain amount of respect for personal space!"
"Why? Were both men here, and from what I've seen, you have NOTHING to
be ashamed of."
Before Spike could sputter his outrage, Xander winked and was gone.