The Tied Man Read Online Free PDF Page B

ridiculous debt of my father’s was dealt with, then glanced at Gabriel’s long, sensuous, guitarist’s fingers.  ‘Why not?’
    Gabriel pulled a bottle of champagne from his illegally opened duty-free bag.  ‘Want a drink?’ My companion fumbled at the foil and began to thumb the cork. 
    ‘For fuck’s sake.’ I took the bottle from him. ‘Do they teach you nothing in Rock School these days?  Do it like that and you’ll waste half the bottle as well as have someone’s eye out.  Hold the cork, twist the bottle.  And see?  More for both of us.’
    ‘Wow.  An expert.’  Gabriel took the bottle and poured two cupfuls, just about managing to get most of the liquid on target.  ‘Well, tits up n’all that.’ He raised his cup and grinned in a way that only the truly stoned can.
    ‘Cheers.’  I took a drink before stroking his designer-stubbled cheek.  ‘So.  Are we just going to sit here and watch the clouds, or shall we do something more constructive with our time?’
    Beautifully shaped eyebrows rose above the margins of his Ray Bans, and
    Gabriel sprayed a fine spray of Cristal over the seat in front.  ‘Fuckin’ hell, you’re direct.’
    I feigned outrage.  ‘Oh, I’m terribly sorry.  I thought for a moment you asked me to sit with you because you had designs on my person.  If I’ve offended you…’  I stood, and he pulled me back to the seat.
    ‘No, don’t go.  I did.  I mean, I do. Um, listen, I took some… stuff before we took off.  Good shit n’all that, but I might have a problem… you know…’  He glanced down at his jeans and gave a sheepish smile.
    ‘Sounds like a challenge.’ I took two ice cubes from Gabriel’s whiskey, placing one in my mouth and taking a long drink from my cup.  I gave the stoned young man a wink and slid to the floor, pulling the complimentary blanket over my head. 
    ‘What the fuck... Oh shit ,’ Gabriel gasped as I undid his flies and took his increasingly tumescent cock in my mouth, enfolding it in a potent mix of champagne bubbles and ice.  I began to slide my lips along the length of his shaft.
    ‘Oh, Jesus Christ on a fuckin’ pushbike.’ Gabriel braced himself against his seat as I flicked him with my glacial tongue.
    Hidden under the blanket, I pulled his artfully ripped jeans further down over lean thighs and began to suck with a gentle, insistent rhythm.  Eventually, Gabriel subconsciously began to mirror the pattern, moving his hips in subtle thrusts that began to increase in their urgency.  Just as he pushed himself out of his seat in the first throes of a muted orgasm, I slipped my hand between his legs and pushed the second ice cube up his arse.
    ‘Fuck me !’ He came in a sudden, tumultuous explosion.  As he gripped at the armrests he accidentally hit the ‘recline’ button so that the back of his seat flattened, taking him, his champagne and the blanket with it.
    I could do nothing but curl up on the floor in a fit of giggles as the boot-faced flight attendant marched back up the aisle from Economy.  She glared at the bacchanalian microcosm that was me and Gabriel – one hunched on the floor and screaming with laughter and the other blushing furiously as he attempted to pull up his jeans. 
    ‘May I ask what you’re doing?’  she asked, in a tone that showered a fine layer of frost over the pair of us.
    ‘Looking for my pencil?’  I suggested.
    ‘You’re something else,’ Gabriel grinned as the attendant stalked back to her gladiatorial pit.  He hauled his seat upright and offered me a hand up from the cabin floor.
    ‘Thank you.’  I held Gabriel’s left hand, turning it to admire his long, callous-tipped fingers.  ‘ Tim e for payback, I think.’
    ‘I’m very good at fingerin’,’ he smirked.
    ‘Good.  My extraordinary altruism only goes so far.’  I retrieved the blanket from under his seat and draped it over our legs before easing out of my shorts.  Gabriel’s hand disappeared