To say that Maurice was a happy man; was to understand first his suffering and then his pleasure.

Maurice would go to work with a smile on his face, until he saw the woman who was making his life a miserable hell. He would watch her show off her engagement ring and brag about the plans for her wedding.

Maurice would tell everyone, he was wishing her all the best and that they should attend the wedding and not to forget to send him the pictures of their nuptial, via email.

After work, he would go home and look at his answering machine. The one device in his entire home that can give him more pleasure than his coffee machine and dildo put together.

If it was flashing red then he hoped he had a message from the one person, who could make him smile for the next couple of days. If not then his smile for the next day would falter, until that message came. When he did receive an message, immediately, Maurice would drop everything to be there, that same day or hour.

He would head over to the seethe motel that almost became akin to his home and would either wait for or see him there.

Mario… his tall Italian prince.

The name of the man, he has fallen in love with, would send shivers through his entire body. So, he began calling him ‘prince’ to alleviate the strong emotions coursing through him.

They would make love or have sex or just fuck in the cheap motel room. Long ago, Maurice had noticed that Mario had an itch for his cock up his ass and a thing for his ear. Mario would come to him hard and needing a good fuck. Sometimes all it took was the mentioning of a good tongue fucking his ear that got Mario going, but there were other times.

Times where, it gave Maurice hope and made him believe that there was something more to them than a quick fix. It was those times that Mario would explore more of their union and open up to him.

Mario would talk about himself and very few times about his girlfriend. It was those special moments that had Maurice coming back for more like an addict. Desperately, wanting a fix and feeling ashamed of it. Maurice loved the way Mario made him feel, but hating himself for it, because no matter how much sex they have, Mario would still get up and leave to go home to his girlfriend. No, fiancée!

There were other times when Mario would ask him about himself and Maurice would tell him everything he wanted to know. There were other times where words didn’t quite describe how he felt and he would either kiss Mario’s ear tenderly or made love to him to let them show.

After those sessions Mario would lay longer in Maurice’s arms and let him touch his golden body. Maurice took advantage of the moment and would touch Mario all over. Every where his hands could get to, Maurice would try to brand his touch into the other man’s skin.

Once, Maurice shoved his fingers in the loose mess that was Mario’s hole and Mario would let him play with the loose and sticky skin of his redden rim.

Maurice still couldn’t believe that Mario would still allow him to fuck hi. Though, there were times they would switch things up, but Maurice topped more than Mario. Mario had trusted him completely with giving him pleasure that he hardly touched himself to get off.

They had done everything at least twice at this point, but Maurice was desperately trying to convince Mario to go out with him, like on a real date. Maurice wanted them to do things that couples would normally do, like hold hands and express their love in public. Preferably, at work where everyone would turn their heads and asked him about the golden colored God, he had just brought into the office with him.

Maurice would love to do anything to get that bitch and Mario to break up, but every time he said something wrong or inappropriate about her, Mario would clam up or get defensive. On occasion, Mario would just get up and leave the motel room, all together.

Coming back to the entail statement, if Maurice was a happy man, since he had to go through so many trails and suffering to keep a hold onto the man that he loved.

Maurice would suffer through the days and nights, where he would dream. Dream about the receiving more than he was given, those dreams would leave him breathless with love and satisfaction and other times, he would dream of losing it all. Those dreams would leave him desperately gasping for air. Fear and desperation would be tightening his lungs and constricting his heart.

So eventually, the motel visits didn’t help anymore. Especially, when Mario showed up one day with his wedding ring on. Even though Mario said it was inevitable, Maurice couldn’t stand to see it on his hand. It was the first time that Maurice had left the motel room and had left Mario behind for a change.

Mario made it up to him by taking him out to a movie, but it only made matters worse. It only showed him a glimpse of what he could never have in reality and secretly only in his dreams.

They sat in the dark holding hands, but showing little else. Mario had sweated so much during the movie that they had taken a shower when they had gotten back to the motel room. Maurice had kissed Mario’s nervousness away, but there was never to be a repeat outing of this kind ever again.

Slowly, Maurice felt the clock began its count down as the months turned into weeks, weeks turned into days, till it was mere hours before Mario’s wedding day.

Maurice was planning on staying home, but the next day. He couldn’t understand how he had ended up alone in the groom’s dressing room looking at the groom as he put on his wedding attire.

“You look good, Mario.” He said quietly.

Mario turned around suddenly that his bowtie came undone.

“Maurice what are you doing here?” Mario asked, with frightened eyes.

While approaching Mario, like a cat approaching its dinner, Maurice grabbed the ends of the bowtie and pulled Mario close to him. He looked into the gold irises and began tying the knot of the bowtie. Maurice felt Mario’s breath ghost his lips as they stood quietly looking into each other’s eyes.

“I don’t want you to marry her, but I can’t stop you from doing it. So, I came to say good bye to my prince for good.” Maurice said sadly.

Mario grabbed Maurice’s elbows before he could move away. Mario pulled him in and kissed him hard and long. Maurice’s hand came up and threaded through the once perfectly combed black curly hair as he messed up the dark curls that were far too soft and thick to let go.

Maurice felt their bodies connect in their usual way and their groins rubbed against each other. Immediately, without fail, they became hard as the kiss became heated and passionate.

One thing led to another and they were tearing each other’s clothes off. Maurice removed Mario’s clothes as if to say ‘don’t go, please, I am begging you’, but Mario removed his with care and tenderness.

Finally, when they were both naked, they wrapped their arms around each other in an embraced that spoke volumes. Maurice could feel Mario trembled in his arms and knew that this was a man, lost and confused. He pulled back his lover’s head and looked into his honey-colored eyes.

Maurice saw the wetness and knew what was happening inside of Mario’s head. Mario was torn in two or in too many ways. Mario was confused of his sexuality as well as his love for his wife to be and him.

Maurice knew he gave Mario’s body something that it has never experienced before, but in the same time, it made Mario experience things, he has never felt before. Maurice knew it was also impossible for him to ask Mario to give his relationship up, but at the same time he had wanted it with every fiber of his body. Some where in his body, he knew that Mario had maybe fallen in love with him, too.

Suddenly, there was nothing more to want as Mario began kissing him again. Mario touched his cock and began spitting in his hand to get the fat member wet. Maurice waited until Mario turned around and spread his legs as his golden lover braced himself against the counter top of the dressing table.

The sight of his lover’s lean back exposed made Maurice longed for things that he knew he could never have. With tears streaming down his cheek, he grabbed the golden muscled globes apart and slowly worked his cock into his lover’s ass.

It was an effort to get it in, but eventually it fit, like it did the other times before. Maurice reached around and grabbed his lover’s stomach and caressed the ripped muscles that bulged from Mario’s abdomen.

Maurice rested his head against Mario’s back and listened to his lover’s pants of pleasure and ecstasy. Maurice kept the rhythm slow at first, but Mario kept thrusting back to pick up the pace.

Maurice tenderly kissed Mario’s ear and felt the man shook from it. He didn’t want to rush their last moment together, but he had no choice, since there was a knock at the door and Mario told whoever it was in Italian to probably fuck off.

Maurice felt the urgency in his lover’s body and knew there was no way to prolong the inevitable. Unwillingly, Maurice relented and lifted his head up and began to pump into his lover in earnest.

He moved his hips faster and harder into his lover. The force of his thrusts rocked the mirror in front and for a moment a flash of deja-vu entered his mind. They have been here before, in the same situation. Mario’s suffering face with his right behind, their rutting bodies reflected their sinful union as Maurice brutally fucked into Mario’s ass.

Maurice felt their orgasms came crashing down over them. He reached up to silence Mario’s cries of ecstasy as he rested his head against Mario’s neck and bit his pleasure in to golden skin. They staid like that for a moment and then the moment was gone.

Mario nudged him to get up and Maurice did. Mario began putting his clothes back on and so did Maurice. Mario began fixing his hair and so did Maurice. The only thing that Mario couldn’t do was fix his bowtie and so Maurice did that for him.

Maurice tied the knot for the bowtie and Mario thanked him. His nod a shy one while Maurice’s was sad.

Without saying ‘good bye’ or ‘see you later’ Mario left Maurice standing in the changing room, by himself again.

The wedding was beautiful and Mario was even more beautiful. Everyone was watching the wedding couple, but Maurice saw only Mario. He watched as Mario rubbed his neck where Maurice had placed a love bite.

Every now and then Mario would adjust his pants and Maurice knew Mario was feeling Maurice’s cum leaking slowly out of his ass. The idea made Maurice smile while his dick became hard. Maurice left before he could watch Mario turn to kiss his wife for the first time.

‘Fuck the newly weds, he thought’

Maurice received throughout the day, pictures of the newly wedded couple and their wedding reception. Maurice was happy to see that at certain times, Mario looked distant and dejected from it all. In one picture it looked like he was having trouble sitting down.

The pictures ended when he saw the pictures of them driving away and Maurice knew they were leaving to go on their 2 week honeymoon trip to Italy. Maurice was hoping that their plane would be delayed, but the text message he saw on his telephone made him both sad and happy to read.

‘We are leaving to go on our honeymoon. Wait for me, until I return. Love, your prince.’

And so…

Maurice waited for him. Hoping that Maria and Mario would change into Maurice and Mario as there would be no more Mario, Maria and Me.

The End


There might be an epilogue to see how long Mario can keep it up. If he is stronger divided or weaker whole?

September 2018
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