Please see Part 1 for disclaimers and archiving information.

"From The Top", Part 21/33
By Clotho (clothomoerae@hotmail.com) and Cathy (huntersglenn@yahoo.com)

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Dave looked around his apartment as he heard the bang on the door.  It
looked tidy.  Somehow he hadn't been able to settle when he got home, and
had ended up cleaning.  He didn't like cleaning much, not that the place
was ever disgusting, no spilled beer bottles or month old grime encrusted
on dishes for him -- he was  a professional -- he didn't need to live like
that.  But he still didn't like cleaning much and usually put it off as
late as he could, but today the blanket was draped squarely over the back
of the sofa, the floors had been vacuumed, the dishes were done, and he'd
even made his bed.  Not that he expected anything to happen -- of course,
but there was nothing wrong with having clean sheets on your bed.  And that
had been useful too, when he'd been putting the sheets on he'd seen a bit
of a sag in the middle, and investigated, and discovered that some of the
wood frame looked a bit splintery.

The splintery bit was now propped up with some old college textbooks.  He'd
need to get a new one, but it could wait, the books would support it, and
in a few weeks he'd have enough saved to be able to buy one cash.   Dave
liked paying cash - there was no one -- no debt collectors, no rent-to-own
goons, or repo trolls; no-one at all could come banging on his door and
barging into his apartment and demand things back because of unpaid bills.
He owned it all, every splintery inch of it.  Dave looked at the apartment
proudly, knowing it was ready for anything.

Dave walked through to the door, then at the last minute dived into the
kitchen, and took a quick slug from his whiskey bottle.  He held it up to
the light appraising the level in it -- it was going down far faster than
usual now, but that was...never mind why that was, just remember to buy
another sometime in the next couple of weeks.

All prepared, Dave walked to the door, and opened it.  Carter was there.
Carter was there, and covered almost completely in a thick black winter
overcoat and holding bags of stuff.  He looked...he looked.  Dave stood
back, and smiled.  Carter looked great.  "Hi.  Um, come in."

"Here," John pushed the bag of drinks and the pizza boxes into Dave's
arms.  "I bought two pizzas," John said as he stepped further into the
room.  "One with just cheese and one with everything.  Beer for you and
soda for me."  John shut the door, then dropped his bag to the floor next
to the wall and began to unbutton his coat.

"Great.  Com'on."  Dave walked back nto his living room.  But he didn't
hear Carter following behind him.  He turned and looked.  Carter was
undoing his coat very slowly.  It was hard to tell how much was undone
except by the position of Carter's hands, as beneath the black coat was
more black.

The hands went lower, and Dave was treated to a flash of pinky white.  It
couldn't be flesh, it was far too high.  Dave felt his mouth drop open as
he realised that it was flesh -- and precisely which bit of flesh it was.
Lower and more.  And finally Carter was standing in front of him dressed in
a tight fitting black T-shirt, and those fuck-me pants -- gaping with
promise, and black leather boots that shone dully.  Dave's eyes raked up
Carter's body from the tips of those boots all the way to his brown hair,
then down again.  He swallowed.

John tried not to grin as he saw Dave's reaction as he removed his coat.
He walked into the living room and stopped directly in front of him.
"Where can I put this?"

"Um, uh."  Dave plunked the boxes on a table without his eyes leaving
Carter for a second, and reached for the coat.  It was heavy, and as his
hand touched Carter by accident all the blood in his body seemed to rush to
his cock.  "Uh."  Dave threw the coat over a random chair -- the closet by
the door was too far away.  "That, uh, T-shirt's not leather."

"No, it's cotton.  That's all right, isn't it?  You only really said that I
should wear the pants."  John held his arms out from his body.  "So, do I
look all right?  I can change if you'd prefer."  He offered, but from the
way Dave's pants were bulging at the crotch, he was pretty sure that Dave
wouldn't want him to change his clothes.

"Nah.  It's cool."  Dave's eyes skated over Carter's body.   They'd stop at
one bit for a moment -- a sleekly outline of thigh, or the chest under the
T-shirt, or the lacing showing the white skin underneath.  He tried to find
some words.  "Um, boots?"

"Riding boots.  I figured that since I was going to have to go in and out
of the pizza place that I'd be better off with boots that covered as much
of the pants as possible.  I can take them off if they bother you.  It's
warm enough in here to go barefoot."  John said as he walked further into
the room.

"Riding boots?  You're going to ride?"  With Carter closer Dave's eyes had
to cover a wider angle to take in all of him.  "Riding?"  Dave licked his
lips as he repeated the word.  "Riding?"

"Yeah.  I told you about my horse, remember?"  John said.  Then he stepped
even closer until their bodies were nearly touching.  "Congratulations on
getting a great evaluation, Dave."  John placed his hands on either side of
Dave's face, then slightly bent his head to kiss him, wanting nothing more
at that moment than to plunder that perfect mouth.

Dave moved his head in response to Carter's hands, allowing himself to be
positioned at the taller man's whim.  He could feel the heat coming off of
Carter's body through his own clothes.  He opened his mouth slightly, and
looked Carter in the eyes until their lips touched.

John ran his tongue over Dave's lower lip, not breaking eye contact at
all.  It was a thrill to have Dave watching him so intently as they
kissed.  He stepped even closer as he tried to mold their bodies to one
another while he pushed his tongue between Dave's lips.

Dave let Carter push his way into his mouth, and take control of the kiss.
He moved his arms around Carter's waist, holding their bodies firmly
together.  Even now Carter didn't break eye contact.  His eyes were a rich,
warm brown, sparkling with life.

John was concentrating so hard on keeping his eyes open that he belatedly
realized that Dave had his arms around him.  That knowledge led John to
brush his hands down each side of Dave's neck, then over his broad
shoulders and down his biceps then to his flank and finally to Dave's hips,
where they rested.  Dave's mouth tasted warm and John tried to test himself
over the flavors he found there.  Toothpaste was there.  And something
else...whiskey?  John suddenly pulled back, looking down at Dave.  "You
didn't start to celebrate without me, did you?"

Dave was startled by the sudden cessation of the kiss.  He looked back at
Carter -- glad that the hands were still on his butt.  "How could I?"   He
tightened his arms further around Carter, and let one hand of his own
slowly descend.  "Your horse, what's his name?" It somehow seemed very
important to know all about that horse, and those boots.  Where they'd
been, what they'd done.  How those hands had petted and stroked it.

"Whiskey," John replied.  "I can taste whiskey in your mouth, Dave." John
then remembered the flask that Dave had brought with him for their skating
date and how Dave's answer to others knowing they were having a sexual
relationship centered around Dave claiming to have been drunk.  Not liking
the direction his thoughts were going, John frowned.  "I told you that I
would bring beer."

Dave shrugged.  "Yeah, had a drink."  It was no big deal.  He wiggled his
butt a little, so he could feel Carter's hand move over it.  Patting and
caressing his skin.  "Tell me 'bout riding."

"How much of a drink?"  John wanted to know.  His mind was racing now,
trying to remember all the times they'd been together and if Dave had been
drinking at those times.  John let go of Dave and stepped out of his
embrace to keep from being distracted by that hard body.  "You drink every
time we're together, don't you?"

Dave shrugged, he hated the way Carter wasn't touching him any more, and
plunked himself down on the sofa.  "Nothin' wrong with havin' a drink."   He
searched for something to add.  "Ya said it yaself -- good eval and all."

That was true enough, John thought. He *had* been the one to suggest a
night of celebration.  John walked over to where Dave was seated, stopping
before him and then slowly going to his knees.  "You're right," he said
with a smile as he remembered just how good Dave tasted.  "There *is*
nothing wrong with having a drink."  He reached forward and began to undo
Dave's pants.

Dave grinned, and wiggled forward on the couch to give Carter better
access.  While he was forward he grabbed a slice of pizza and shoved as
much of it into his mouth as he could, chewing quickly.  When he could he
swallowed.  "There ya go.  Taste all gone."

It was difficult to undo the buttons of Dave's jeans while the man was
moving, but John was doing his best.  By the time Dave swallowed his pizza,
he had undone nearly all the buttons.  He grinned up at Dave.  "That's
great, Dave, but that's not the part of you that I need to taste right
now.  I'm in the mood for something a little sweeter."  John tugged on the
open flaps of the fly.  "Stand up."

Dave grinned at Carter, and then after his cock was free reached forward to
run his hands slowly and lasciviously along the sides of the black leather
riding boots.  He smiled at Carter as he did so.  They were smooth and
black and sleek and shiny.  They were as good to touch as they looked.  And
he could feel Carter's breath hot on his shoulder as he touched them.

"We're getting closer here, Dave, but you haven't obeyed me yet.  Stand."
John said.  He had been afraid that his voice would give away the strength
of his arousal, but to his surprise, he had sounded firm as he ordered Dave
to do his bidding.

Dave looked at Carter in a little surprise but the firmness in the command
only made him harder.  He stood up, looking down at the top of Carter's
head, and the shiny strength of those boots that encased Carter's legs.

John hooked his fingers under the waistband of Dave's underwear, then
pulled down, until the jeans and the underwear were bunched in a puddle at
Dave's ankles.  John leaned forward and placed a kiss on the bruises on the
front of Dave's thighs, letting his lips linger softly on each one for a
few moments, then he put his hands on Dave's hips.  "Sit," he ordered, his
voice sounding husky to his own ears.

That was better, Dave sat down quickly, happy to let Carter gently pull him
down.  His thighs tingled where Carter had touched them.  His cock was
inflamed, and needing to be touched and pointing at Carter.  He didn't want
the hands or the touching to stop for one second.  And it didn't need to --
in the getup that Carter was wearing nothing needed to stop for a second.
He leant forward and kissed Carter on the lips, feeling his cock and
nipples and hips where Carter's hands lay vibrate along with his lips.

John enjoyed the kiss, but it wasn't the tastes of Dave's mouth that he now
craved.  A mouth that now tasted of garlic and tomatoes and hearty meats
and cheese and black olives over all the other vegetables.  John broke off
the kiss and lowered his head to kiss the tip of Dave's cock as a prelude
to slipping his mouth over just the head of it and gently sucking.  Then
John looked up into Dave's eyes.  "You were asking about riding earlier.
How about if I show you what it's like?"  The image of his own body riding
up and down while on top of Dave made his cock throb against the lace
bindings that held it captive.

Dave's mouth broke into a wide grin.  The kiss on his cock was good, but
this was better.  Far better.  "Ride me.  In the boots."   Dave scrambled
into action, pulling his T-shirt off over his head.  "How?  Where?"

John looked around the room.  "Here.  On the coffee table.  If it's strong
enough to hold both of us, that is."  As soon as Dave's chest was bare,
John couldn't resist leaning forward to capture a nipple in his mouth,
working it over with his teeth and tongue until it was hard and as erect as
Dave's cock.

Dave's nipple seemed to grow bigger as Carter teased it.  Until Carter had
played with his nipples he'd never thought they could feel like this --
that it was a chick thing -- but he had been wrong.  So very wrong.  And it
was just the promise of more to come.  "It'll hold.  It has to."   With one
hand Dave pushed the pizza boxes onto the floor.  "All clear now.  Oh,
God."  With all the attention that Carter was lavishing on it his nipple
felt as big as his cock.

John slowly got to his feet.  "Take off the rest of your clothes and get on
the table.  On your back."  John turned away from Dave and went to his bag,
opening the side pocket where he had stored the lube.  His hand brushed
against the box of condoms and he briefly thought about pulling out the box
and using one, but he wanted to have Dave inside of him.  Wanted to feel
the skin of Dave's cock against his anus.  Wanted to know that Dave had
left something behind after he had come.

Dave tried to stand up when Carter left, but abruptly sat down again --
everything was pooled about his ankles.  He hastily pulled one sneaker and
sock off, and started on the other only to have the lace form an
inextricable knot.  And the harder he pulled at the sneaker the worse it
got.  Dave slid the jeans and boxers off his free leg, then tried to raise
his foot to examine the knot more carefully.  He couldn't believe that this
had happened.  Not now.

John had expected to turn around and find Dave prone on the table.  Instead
he turned around and saw Dave sitting on the couch examining his foot.
"Problem?"

"I tried."  Dave held the foot out toward Carter so he could inspect the
problem too.

"It's knotted."  John announced.  He began to work at it with his fingers,
thinking that if he could successfully do a one handed knot while doing
sutures then he could certainly undo a simple knot in a shoe.  "It's
beginning to loosen, I think."  John reported.  "Just a little bit
more...yes."  John broke into a wide grin as the knot came undone, then he
pulled off the shoe and then Dave's sock, tossing them aside.  "Okay, now
you can get on the table."

Dave was grateful that he'd bitten back his *No shit, Sherlock* at the
announcement the lace was knotted, because Carter somehow managed to unknot
it.  He quickly pulled the jeans and boxers off the leg, and hurried over
to the table to lie down.  The wood veneer was cool against his back, and
looking up Dave was aware for a moment of the marks on the ceiling, but
they were quickly forgotten when the far more interesting sight of Carter
dressed all in black, came into view.  He looked, hot.  Very, very hot.
And the riding boots would soon be riding him.  Dave wasn't quite sure, but
he *thought* that at that thought his cock had got even harder.

John looked down at Dave and grinned, then knelt beside the table.  "You
asked about what it was like to ride.  Well, sometimes, when you first go
out to the stable, the horse will be skittish and not want you to put the
saddle on him."  John uncapped the lube and put a generous amount in his
hand, then began to run his hand up and down Dave's cock.  "That's when you
have to touch him to settle him down.  I would always run my hands over
Marigold's flank and withers, sometimes petting him hard," John increased
the pressure of his stroking.  "And sometimes I would pet him lightly, just
barely touching him."  As before, John let his hand mirror what he had
said.  He loved the way that Dave's cock was responding on its own to being
touched by twitching within his grasp.

The lube was cool on Dave's inflamed penis, but warmed rapidly.  Dave tried
lifting his hips, pushing himself into Carter's hand.  Carter was so expert
at this.  So good.  Dave groaned.  "And then?"

"And then," John stood and poured more lube into his hand, then replaced
the cap and tossed it on the couch.  "Then I'd be able to get the saddle on
him.  Dressage saddles look a lot like English saddles, but they're made
slightly different.  A little deeper in the seat, so the rider can be more
in touch with the back of the horse."  John moved so that he straddled the
table as well as Dave's body, then he reached between his own legs and
began to rub the lube over his anus, making sure to get some just inside
the opening as well.  He closed his eyes as he felt his own finger slip
inside making pleasure shoot through his body.  John had never masturbated
*that* way before and he found himself thinking it was a shame he hadn't.

Dave got a glorious view of Carter's inside leg through the lacing on the
leather pants.  He could see the boot ending shortly above the table too.
A riding boot.  Carter was going to ride him.  Saddle him, he said.  Carter
knew all about this, there seemed to be nothing he hadn't done.  Dave let
his gaze rise following the line of the black lacing and pale flesh
underneath.  Then he saw Carter with a finger his own ass -- there really
was nothing the guy hadn't done.  Nothing.  Dave looked jealously at the
rocking motion the arm was making -- there really seemed to be nothing that
Carter didn't do.  Dave looked higher still, and saw Carter's eyes screwed
shut as he concentrated on pleasuring himself  -- it looked like he was
doing a good job too, from the expression on his face.  A pang of jealousy
swept through Dave -- Carter shouldn't look like that for anyone but him.
No-one.  "An' if ya fuck with the saddle too long the horse runs away?"

John chuckled, then opened his eyes and looked down at Dave. "No.  The
horse is usually tied to something so he can't get away."  John slowly
withdrew his finger.  "The reason why it's so important for a dressage
saddle to be deep is because the rider has to sit on the horse just so --
he has to be able to move with the horse, even as he's subtly controlling
the horse with light leg pressure or a slight tug on the reins."  John
began to squat and he reached down to hold Dave's rock hard and hot cock in
place as he began to impale himself upon it.  John sucked in his breath as
he felt the heat from Dave's cock against his sphincter muscles and then
the heat passed as the head disappeared inside.  As Dave's cock began to
fill him, John closed his eyes once more.  "Yes, having body contact with
the horse is the most important thing in dressage," John said, his voice
low and husky.

Dave felt himself being squeezed as Carter lowered himself.  Squeezed, but
good squeezed, not pain squeezed.  Very good squeezed.  Carter just opened
up so he could come in.  And now Carter was on top of him, in the boots, in
control.  "Does the horse like it, too?  Being controlled?"

John opened his eyes and stared down into Dave's dark ones.  "The horse and
rider train constantly to learn how to move as one.  The rider learns how
to bring out the best the horse has to offer and if they're really good,
and I mean, *really* good, then it's hard to tell where the rider ends and
the horse begins."  Dave was fully inside of him and he rested there for a
moment.  While he had been on top many times, John had never been on top in
a place where he could keep his feet flat on the floor -- it was different
and he was looking forward to finding out how moving would feel.  And there
was no time like the present to find out -- pushing off the floor, he
raised his body until he was almost off of Dave, then he let himself slowly
drop back down.  "God," he gasped as Dave's cock rasped against his
prostate, sending white hot bolts of lightning pleasure up his spine.

Dave moaned in the back of his throat as Carter let his cock expand to its
full width, and then compressed it again, as it went back inside him.  And
that was only one.  He fixed his eyes on Carter's face, willing the rich
brown eyes to stare down at him again.   "And dressage.  What is it?   How
does it go?"  As Dave spoke he felt Carter begin to lift up off him again,
and Dave took his chance, bucking his hips to get movement and height and
re-enter Carter.

John had to take a deep breath and force himself to remember back to when
he was younger as he pushed even more to try to rise up from Dave.  "The
ring is a set size for the competition and the horse and rider enter at one
end, then ride to a specific point where they salute a judge.  After that,
the pair has a set amount of time to go through certain motions.  Turning a
particular way, changing gaits while running, stepping sideways.  All of
that..." he lowered himself again and bit his lip to keep from crying out
loud over the myriad of sensations that were being created in his ass.
"All of that is given points.  The horse is given points for how he moves
and so is the rider.  The back must be kept perfectly straight at all times
and the rider has to be graceful."  John settled himself on Dave's groin
and grinned.  "Back then I couldn't walk without tripping over my own two
feet but I was the definition of grace when I was on Marigold."  He watched
Dave's face as he slowly started his upward trek -- the emotions that
flittered there, the desire in Dave's eyes -- they made John want to go
faster and faster until Dave screamed and came, but he knew that Dave's
release would be even sweeter if he kept things slow.

Dave lifted his arms.  "You need reins."  He kept his eyes locked on
Carter's as he groped for the hands to hold.  "Hafta keep your back
straight."  Carter was going so slowly.  Maddeningly slow.  Dave needed
something more than this measured rise and fall.

John grasped Dave's hands, then consciously made sure his back was
straight.  "I never tried to do dressage bareback, you know."  He had
reached the head of Dave's cock and he made himself stay there for a
moment.  Their fingers were tightly grasping one another and he slowly
grinned as he tensed his sphincter muscles around Dave's cockhead.

"Ahhhhhh."  It was tight and special and good.  Dave couldn't take his eyes
far enough from Carter's to look at his face.  He was locked into looking
at the depths of Carter's rich brown eyes which seemed impossibly deep.
He tightened his grasp on Carter's hands, and tried another upward thrust.

This time, when Dave thrust up, John didn't try to escape him.  Instead, he
let his body drop down, quickly descending Dave's long cock until he could
hear the leather slapping against Dave's belly and a long moan escaped
John's throat.

"Oh, God."  Dave moaned.  Carter was tight and hot.  And his hands were
tight and hot.  And his eyes were deep and cool.

"That was a slow gait.  Are you ready to run, Dave?" he asked, looking for
some sign in Dave's dark eyes that he was ready to go faster.

"Yes."  Dave tried to push upwards, but the table was beneath him, and
Carter above, and he had nowhere to go.  He held onto Carter's hands
tighter.   "Yes.  Faster."

John squeezed his thighs against Dave's hips.  "Did you feel that?  That's
your cue to change your pace, Dave."  Grasping Dave's hands even more
tightly than before, John quickly rose up and then right back down, only to
go directly up again.  Each time he went up, he would squeeze the tip of
Dave's cock and then descend as fast as he could.

"Uh."  Dave tried to follow.  When Carter was up, he tried to thrust up,
and then come down with Carter impaled on him.  He grasped Carter's hands
tighter and tighter.

John squeezed his legs even tighter against Dave's hips. "That is your cue
to stay still," he panted, never breaking stride in his movements.

"What?"  Dave looked up at Carter. "Not serious."  The guy's ass was
hugging his cock, and he was just supposed to stay still?  "What?"  He
grasped Carter's hands tighter.  The leather against Dave's skin was slick
with sweat -- riding pants and boots, and the rider was staring into Dave's
eyes.

John knew he was in danger of getting lost in the dark depths of Dave's
eyes, but he couldn't pull his gaze away.  "Very serious.  A rider never
lets his horse control the gait.  He is always in charge, always in touch
with the horse, moving *with* his mount."  John suddenly grinned.   "You
don't want me disqualified for poor form, do you?"

"Uh, no."  Dave swallowed, Carter was utterly in control here.   Dressed in
black head to foot, and dictating how things went.  If Carter wouldn't let
him move his cock, then Dave wouldn't move his cock.  "You're the rider.
God, you're my rider."

"That's right."  John carefully pulled one hand loose, then bent slightly
so he could reach Dave's side, where he tenderly caressed the hot and
sweaty flesh there.  "If all of my mounts had been like you, then I never
would have given up the sport."  He grabbed Dave's hand back and began to
move again, only this time he reverted to the slow movements of earlier.
He wanted the ride to last as long as humanly possible even if his body
paid for it in the morning with aching muscles.

It was reflex for Dave to try thrusting into Carter as hard as he could.
He tried to stop his responses -- letting Carter set the pace, letting the
leather push against his sides, up and down, letting Carter cover and
uncover him, letting the hands gripping his moving his arms through an
angle as they rose and fell, seeing sweat blots form on Carter's T-shirt --
the dull cotton a contrast to the slick leather against his legs, feeling
every molecule of his body be sensitized to Carter.  And above and beyond
all was the slow and measured *clip clop* of Carter's boot heels on the
floor as he went up and down.

John could feel a trillion shards of pleasure shooting through his body
every time he moved up and down Dave's cock.  The tight lacing of the front
of his pants acted as a sort of cock ring and John knew that if not for
that, he would have come by then.  As it was, he was nearing climax, but he
knew from experience that he could reach that state without ejaculating.
But this was the first time he had ever managed it without resorting to
calling up anatomy charts to distract his body.  He closed his eyes and let
the pleasure rush over him, filling him completely.  He came to a full stop
on Dave's groin, shuddering as his orgasm shook his body to the core.
"God," he breathed.  "Dear, God."

Dave watched the mix of emotions and feeling cross Carter's face.  He felt
a mixture of pride that he was responsible for those looks, and frustration
that he wasn't sharing them, that Carter had just stopped.  He wanted to
join in, he needed to join in.  Dave thrust upwards, once, twice, three
times, making only minute movements against all the weight of Carter on top
of him, but the small movements were enough, and Dave shuddered with relief
and release as his own orgasm overtook him.

John was pulled from his post-climatic lassitude by Dave's small
movements.  He looked down into Dave's liquid brown eyes and watched as
Dave's body mirrored the movements his own body had just completed.  John
moved his arms to the side to make room for him to lie over Dave's chest
and he kissed him passionately, somewhat surprised at how the mere feel of
Dave's lips sent shivers through him.  While he was glad that Dave had been
pleasured, John had wished that the ride had lasted all night and he wished
he could keep as much of Dave in him as possible.  "I wish..." John
started, but then he felt his cheeks grow red as he thought of what Dave
might think about his wish.

Dave brought Carter's right hand, still interleaved with his own, to his
mouth.  He kissed the each of the fingers, then gently unclasped it, so he
could run his left hand up and down Carter's back, feeling all the knobs
and ridges.  Carter was heavy on top of him, and the table solid underneath
him, and he couldn't think of a better place to be.  Carter was wishing for
something -- Dave didn't know what could possibly be wished for, he
couldn't think of a better place to be right now.  He tightened his fingers
of his right hand that remained intertwined with Carter's.

To be continued