Mission Impossible 5

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Christian had bought the huge apartment on the top floor of a modern block near the water-front, with money he inherited from his doting grandmother, who had never discovered that her grandson was gay.

“She’d have disinherited me if she’d ever found out that I liked sucking cock,” he told me, less than an hour after we first met. “Strict Presbyterian she was, God rest her homophobic soul. She went along with everything in ‘Revelations’ – homosexuals should be put to death along with rapists and murderers, and all that shit.”

He was dressed in a very short silk dressing gown, when he opened the door to me; which was tied just enough to accentuate the fact that he was naked and semi-erect beneath.

“You are almost wearing that,” I said.
“I only put it on to be decent,” he replied. “Anyway, it isn’t as if you haven’t seen me naked a million times.”
“True. But you know the sight of your white hairless body always makes me a little wet.”
“Why do you have to say things like that to me?”
“Because I love you…..  did you get it?”

He walked ahead of me along the hall and into the open-plan sitting room, and picked up two keys off the table. “Here, freshly minted and guaranteed.”

I took them, turning them over and wondered again what the fuck I was doing. I wasn’t a professional thief – what would happen if I got caught? My life would be over. My career, my marriage……the tabloids would have a field day.

“I take it he only made two,” I said. “Your friend didn’t make a few more, and hand them out to one or two villains for a cut of the action.”

Christian stuck the pinkie finger of his right hand in his ear and wiggled it about vigorously. “Of course he didn’t. I trust him. He may be queer, but he’s not bent. Plus he doesn’t have the address. Anyway missy, you’re the one who’s about to turn cat-burglar, and break into the house of your lover to steal a pile of dirty, sexy, incriminating photographs.”

“I don’t want to, it’s a case of having to. And I wouldn’t of had to if he hadn’t lied to me.”
“That’s the trouble with heterosexual men, they are such liars. Just to pay him back you might just take a few of those nice pictures he has on the wall. I know a man who’d give us at least thirty grand for that lot. We could split it fifty, fifty. What do you say?”

I could see the irony of the situation, but still, I didn’t want anybody else raiding Marco’s home.

“Did you pay him yet?” I asked, changing the subject.
Christian’s eyes lit up, pink tongue sliding over his slightly droopy lower lip. “He’s coming around later to extract payment from my cute black ass. Did I ever tell you about his beautifully straight marble-esque cock?”
“Exhaustively. I feel I know it intimately. I hate to be the barer of mad news, but your ass isn’t black.”
“No! Are you sure?”
“White as a snowflake.”

“Shit. It’s time for another visit to the solarium.”
“But why. As I recall your butt my be white, but it’s tight, hard and beautifully formed. Any black man would be proud to own suck a derriere.”
“You really think so?”
“Absolutely. Yours is among the top ten of asses, black or white.”
When I left he was looking at himself in front of a long mirror. Not an unusual occurrence.

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