Blabbermouth
By Jamie Lowe
Tate Hampton sighed heavily as he let himself into
his apartment after a long day at work. He hated his job -
- designing magazine ads for a high-fashion clothing
line. Was this really the life that he had accumulated
thousands of dollars in student debt from art school for?
He dropped his briefcase by the door and hung his
jacket on the coat rack before going into the living room.
"Hi, pretty girl. I'm home."
"Squawk. Hey, handsome. How was work?"
1
Tate laughed and went over to the cage housing his
African gray parrot, Jolene. He opened the cage, and she
flew out, landing on his shoulder. She nibbled at his ear
playfully as he went over to the couch to sit down.
He'd lived alone in the two-bedroom apartment and
had felt like he needed something other than the
television to occupy himself during the evenings. The
idea of getting a pet had been spur-of-the-moment, and
he'd really just wanted something like a cat.
But Jolene had won his heart when he walked by her
cage. She had whistled to get his attention and said, "Hi,
I'm a pretty bird."
And she was, with her beautiful gray and white
feathers and her pretty yellow eyes. She wasn't as
vibrant as one of the Amazonian parrots, but Tate
thought that she was absolutely gorgeous.
"Work was okay," he told her before he realized that
he was lying to a parrot. "Actually, it sucked. I'm an
artist, Jol. I wasn't meant to sit in a cubicle creating
work for someone else's expectations."
"Artist," she repeated.
"Exactly! I feel like they're smothering me." He
sighed and turned on his small TV, turning the volume
low just to provide a little background noise. "But I
guess it could always be worse. At least Mr. Athel
stopped by today to talk about my latest project."
Jolene let out a wolf-whistle and said, "Mr. Athel, so
sexy!"
Tate laughed loudly, startling Jolene into flapping her
wings. "Yep, that's the one!" He chuckled, knowing that
Jolene was just mimicking him. He just couldn't help
himself!
Markus Athel was Tate's supervisor in the advertising
office, and Tate had to admit that he had a huge crush on
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the man. Markus was older than Tate's twenty-seven,
probably pushing his late thirties, but that didn't stop
Tate from drooling. Markus was a god among men, all
cinnamon skin, curly black hair, and chocolate-colored
eyes.
"I just wish Mr. Athel would relax. He always looks
like a hard-ass."
"Mr. Athel."
"Right," he agreed. "Mr. Athel is a hard-ass. He
would look so much better if he would smile every now
and then. I think it's working there," Tate confided
conspiratorially. "It eats your soul."
"Eats your soul."
Tate smirked and moved his fingers up for Jolene to
give nibbling kisses. "Come on, pretty girl. Let's go
make some dinner."
"Yum-yum."
Tate walked into the galley kitchen, and Jolene
jumped over to the counter to let him move around more
freely. He opened his airtight breadbox and pulled out
the loaf of wheat bread, putting two pieces on one of his
blue plastic plates.
"Yum-yum."
"Yeah, yeah." He got out the heel and tore off a
piece, placing it on the counter for her. "Spoiled!"
"I'm a pretty bird!"
Tate rolled his eyes and huffed. "Women." He put
ham, cheese, and mayo on his sandwich, got some chips,
and grabbed a beer. "Come on, Jolene. Let's watch some
TV."
"TNT. We know drama."
"You and your crime shows. Fine, we can watch
them. Silly bird."
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He went back into the living room and turned the TV
to Jolene's favorite channel. He sat back on the couch,
nice and comfortable, and took a big bite out of his
sandwich.
Tate and Jolene watched TV for a while, and Tate
finished his dinner. He sank into the cushions and took a
deep swig of his beer.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and Tate's eyes whipped
over to the door.
"We have a guest! We have a guest!"
"We sure do," Tate agreed. He sat his beer down on
the coffee table and went to the door to look out the
peephole. He was expecting the delivery man or maybe
the landlord, but instead, he was stunned to see Markus
Athel standing outside his apartment.
He opened the door and blinked blankly at the man.
Markus was standing there in his crisp work clothes --
gray slacks, a light blue shirt, and a thin navy tie. He
was holding his black leather briefcase in his right hand.
"Hello, Tate."
"Um& hi, Mr. Athel. What are you doing here?"
Markus shifted his weight onto his left foot. "I was
on my way out of the office when I got a call from
upstairs. They're scrapping the ad campaign we've been
working on and want something new on their desks by
Friday."
"You have to be kidding me!" Tate screamed, jaw
dropping open. "Do they have any idea how much time
and work we've already put in?"
"I know, and they know, but they don't care.
Apparently an ad just like what they wanted from us
appeared in the latest Glamour and& ." Markus
shrugged. "That's that. I knew that you were --
reasonably so -- going to be upset, so I thought I would
4
tell you away from the office and give you some extra
time to think. Or vent."
"Damn them." Tate then realized that they were still
standing half in the hallway. "I'm sorry. Would you like
to come in?"
"Yes, please. Maybe we can get something in mind
before we go in to work tomorrow."
Tate stepped back and heard Jolene saying, "Run the
ballistics, run the ballistics."
Markus paused. "I'm sorry, I'm interrupting? Is that
your wife?"
"Wife?" Tate repeated. How could Markus not have
been aware of Tate's sexuality? Tate dyed his hair the
color of egg-yolks, de-haired and moisturized, wore pink
shirts with his slacks, and was an artist. Duh!
"Not your wife?" Markus asked, apparently realizing
he had made a mistake.
"My parrot." Tate let Markus inside and let out a little
whistle. "Come here, Jolene."
Jolene flew over and landed on the arm he'd extended
for her.
"This is Jolene," Tate said, showing Markus his
parrot.
"She's beautiful," Markus praised. "And she talks."
"It's harder to get her to shut up," Tate joked. "Who
are you, Jolene?"
"I'm a pretty girl!"
To Tate's surprise, a smile tugged at Markus' lips.
"And she has a sense of humor."
Tate gently shook Jolene off. "Come sit down. Would
you like something to drink?"
"Maybe just a glass of water."
Tate went into the kitchen and filled one of his plastic
cups from the sink, feeling a little inadequate. He was,
5
after all, a former starving-artist just finding solid
ground, so he couldn't exactly wow a guest.
Markus just said, "Thank you," when Tate handed
him the drink.
Tate got his notebooks and art supplies, and he and
Markus worked together to come up with sketched
outlines of some new ideas.
"Well, these will work," Markus said finally, looking
through the three options.
Tate nodded and stretched. They weren't his best
work by any means, but Tate was going for quick, not
necessarily good. They were just outlines anyway. The
real work would come once a campaign was approved
and Tate had to make the real thing, all clean lines and
perfect fonts and complementing colors that screamed,
"Buy this product."
"Hopefully one of these ideas will wow them," Tate
said, shrugging and offering Markus a smile.
"I'm sure one will. You're a fantastic graphic
designer. We were lucky to find you."
Tate turned his head a little bit to hide his blush.
Never before had Markus really complimented him with
anything more than a "good job." He knew that he was a
good artist, but it was great to hear it from the man he
admired.
He cleared his throat and said, "Thanks, Mr. Athel."
Jolene flapped her wings and squawked loudly before
wolf-whistling. "Mr. Athel, so sexy!"
Tate froze like a statue before slowly turning to face
Markus. He couldn't believe Jolene had just said that.
Markus was staring at Jolene with a confused look on
his face. "Wow, that's& . You taught her to do that to all
of your guests? That's pretty funny," he said, looking
embarrassed.
6
Tate tried to stammer out an agreement to the ready-
made explanation, but he just ended up sounding like a
moron, mumbling, "Y-yeah, well& I& um& she&
um& ." His tongue felt swollen, and when his eyes met
Markus', he turned as red as a ripe tomato.
"Wait& parrots can't form sentences. They just
repeat what they've heard." One of Markus' dark
eyebrows rose. "Tate?"
"I'm& sorry," Tate whispered. "Please don't fire me.
I really need this job. I promise I'll stay away from you
and won't come to your office alone. Or whatever you
want me to do or not do. Please. If I lose this job, Jolene
and I are out on the street."
Markus put his hand up and Tate stopped,
recognizing the sign to stop talking. "I've had workers
have crushes on me. But not since I turned thirty-five,
and definitely never a guy."
"I'm sorry," Tate repeated, looking away from his
handsome boss.
"Don't be," Markus said. "I had no interest in any of
those women. I actually like men too, Tate."
Tate turned to look back at Markus so fast that he
almost gave himself whiplash. "You do?"
Markus gave him an awkward-looking smile. "Yes.
It's not professional to mention my preferences on the
job, so most people just assume that I prefer female
company."
Tate felt butterflies in his stomach, and his heart was
beating a mile-a-minute. He knew that he was getting
ahead of himself, but he wondered if Markus might be
interested. Or else he wouldn't have even told Tate that
he was gay, right?
"So what do we do now?" Tate asked.
7
"I know what I want to do, but I'm not sure we can,"
Markus said.
"What do you want to do?"
"Something that I shouldn't." Markus stepped closer,
and Tate's eyes went huge as Markus reached up to cup
his face. "Tell me not to."
"But I don't want to tell you not to." Tate smiled, and
his eyes closed as Markus kissed him. Tate's fingernails
scraped the rough material of the couch as warmth
spread from his lips. Markus tried to pull back, and Tate
wrapped his arms around Markus' neck, holding him in
place.
"This is going to get complicated," Markus whispered
against Tate's lips.
Tate knew that was true, but he didn't care. He and
Markus were both adults, so they should be mature
enough to handle it.
Tate pulled back a little bit and said, "I'm not letting
us not do this."
"Then I guess I'll give up worrying."
"Good plan," Tate said, hooking a hand behind
Markus' head. He fell backwards on the couch
purposely, pulling Markus with him, until his shoulders
were against the arm and Markus was halfway on top of
him.
Jolene squawked, and Tate peeked past Markus'
shoulder before saying, "Hush up, you. Go to your
perch; we don't want a voyeur."
Markus chuckled softly as Jolene flew off. "Who can
resist a man who loves animals?"
Tate grinned and pulled Markus into another kiss. As
soon as their lips were together, Tate moved his hands to
Markus' collar and started fiddling with the navy tie.
"Don't choke me," Markus joked.
8
"Don't tempt me." But Tate pulled the knot out of the
tie and slid it off of Markus' neck.
He felt Markus' fingers at the buttons of his own shirt
and started to pull at the buttons of Markus' in return,
not about to be any more stripped than his handsome
boss. He leaned up and started teasing Markus' ear. He
ran his tongue along the outer rim, then pulled the lobe
into his mouth and started to nibble. Markus groaned,
and they were pressed so close that Tate could actually
feel it against his chest.
Tate wanted to rip Markus' shirt open, send buttons
flying everywhere in passion, but there were two reasons
he couldn't: he didn't want Markus to get distracted by
worrying about his shirt, and he didn't want Jolene to eat
one of the buttons.
Still, he certainly didn't take his time, undoing the
buttons as fast as he could manage. He kept nibbling at
that ear, then down the squareness of Markus' strong
jaw. He could feel his five-o'clock shadow scratching at
his lips, leaving them pleasantly tender. He loved the
reminder of masculinity.
Finally, he got Markus' shirt open and placed his
hands on Markus' chest. For an office drone, Markus
was so muscular. Tate was suddenly nervous to have
Markus see him, as he was such a skinny guy.
He pushed Markus back enough that he could remove
Markus' light-blue button-up and drop it over the side of
the couch into a pile of cloth on the floor. He turned his
gaze to Markus' chest and practically drooled at the
expanse of tan skin. "Handsome," he mumbled.
Markus removed Tate's shirt and dropped it by his
own. "You aren't so bad yourself."
9
Tate couldn't imagine that Markus was really all that
into his skinny body, but Markus' dark eyes showed
enough lust that Tate couldn't deny it. "You like this?"
"Very much." Markus moved down and placed his
lips on Tate's neck, and Tate shivered as pleasure rushed
through him.
"Good. Now keep kissing me; your lips feel good."
Markus laughed, and Tate pushed Markus down to
his chest where he felt that mouth exploring.
Tate groaned as he felt the soft wetness of tongue
licking his skin. He ran his fingers through Markus' hair
and played the dark curls through his fingers, looking
down to see the curls wrapped around his pale digits.
He felt fingers at his waist, and he smiled up at the
ceiling. This needed to happen. "Keep going," he urged,
feeling a loosening at his waist as his belt was undone.
Tate raised his hips willingly, excited for what he
knew was coming next. He felt his pants and underwear
slide down his legs together. He leaned up and watched
the pants and undies come off of his feet, and Markus
toss them on the floor.
He was a little embarrassed, being seen naked by his
boss -- a man he was undeniably and incurably attracted
to. He wanted to cover up, but he didn't. Instead, he lay
there and let Markus' eyes rove over his skin.
"I want to see you, too," Tate demanded impatiently.
"If I have to be naked, so do you."
"Well, that's fair," Markus agreed. He stood up, and
Tate wanted to be disappointed. But he couldn't be when
Markus started to remove his pants.
Tate rolled onto his side and watched, almost
drooling. He saw those tan hips revealed, then black
wiry curls, then a delicious-looking cock.
10
"Is that for me?" Tate joked, eyeing the flesh with
desire.
"Yes. Sorry you didn't get to unwrap your own
present."
"I'll live," Tate assured. He reached out lustfully with
both hands toward Markus and urged the man to come
climb back on top of him.
Markus obeyed, and Tate moaned as their bodies
pressed fully together, Markus' weight bearing down on
him. "You're pretty sexy," Tate told him.
Tate grabbed Markus' lower arm and pulled the man's
hand close to his face, opening his mouth and pulling
two of the fingers inside with his tongue. He grinned
around the fingers when Markus moaned, and he started
to suck harder, head bobbing a little bit as he coated the
digits in saliva.
"You seem ready to move onto the next step,"
Markus commented.
Tate hummed his agreement. He had lusted after his
boss for so long and had never thought anything would
come of it, so damn right he was going to want the real
thing to happen soon. But he could also enjoy each
moment as it came. He licked Markus' fingers slowly,
making sure they got soaking wet.
Finally, Markus pulled his fingers out and said,
"You're a minx."
"I resent that remark," Tate protested with
amusement. He smiled at Markus. "Not like I'm giving
you a chance to back out, but you're sure you're okay
with this?"
"Yes. I know I want you, and I think that we're
mature enough not to let this cause problems."
"Then let's actually do 'this.'" Tate raised one of his
legs over the back of the couch, spreading himself wide.
11
Markus' hand moved down between his legs, and Tate
took a deep breath when he felt wet fingers on his inner-
thighs. "You're a little far south."
"I'm well aware of that, thank you." Those fingers
trailed upward, and Tate hissed in pleasure, arching his
hips toward them. He felt Markus' fingers move up
against his hole, and he rested his own hand on his
lower-stomach to distract himself a little.
"Yeah," Tate urged. "Go for it." He groaned when he
felt a finger push into him. This was exactly what he had
been waiting for. He'd known that Markus' touch would
feel good. And it did.
"Come on, don't take it so slow," he urged. "I'm not
made of glass. I want this." Tate moaned loudly when
another finger pushed inside. Markus started stretching
him open, and Tate kept making sounds of
encouragement, gazing up at Markus. He was pleased
that Markus was staring back.
"You okay?" Markus asked.
"I'm better than okay. You had better get inside of me
as soon as possible. I've wanted this for longer than I'm
willing to admit, and I'm just about past the point of
waiting."
Markus smiled. "Good, because I'm not going to wait
much longer myself." He reached over to his discarded
pants and opened his wallet, pulling out a foil package.
Tate watched as Markus opened the condom and pulled
it on, all while maintaining as much skin-on-skin contact
as they could manage.
When Markus moved closer between his legs, Tate
wrapped his own around Markus and locked his ankles
together at the small of the man's back, then canted his
hips up. He felt pressure against his butt and grinned
lustfully as he felt Markus push inside of him.
12
Oh. Damn, that kind of hurt, but in a good way. "Oh,
you're big, aren't you, sir?"
"Do you need me to stop?" Markus asked through his
teeth.
That was the last thing Tate wanted. "Hell no!"
Markus gripped Tate's thighs, and Tate lifted his legs
higher as he felt more of Markus push into him. It felt
wonderful, and Tate knew before Markus even started
thrusting that he would want to do this again and again.
He closed his eyes lazily and basked in the feeling of
Markus inside of him for a moment, but he couldn't hold
out long. "What are you waiting for? I'm not going to
break. Do it."
Markus started to thrust, and Tate moaned, head
pressing back against the arm of the couch as pleasure
overwhelmed him. It was exactly what he had wanted.
There was a little pain and a lot of pleasure, and his
body seemed to get hotter with every passing second.
Tate gripped Markus tighter and felt his nails digging
into skin, but Markus didn't make a sound of complaint,
so Tate wasn't about to let go. If he did, he thought the
world might fall out from underneath him.
He could feel his own erection rubbing against
Markus' lower belly and was afraid that this was going
to end a lot sooner than he intended. He reached down
and wrapped his fingers around himself so he could get
some relief.
"Tate," Markus bit out through clenched teeth.
"Close."
"Me too." Tate panted. "Come on, Markus, give it to
me harder."
Markus started to thrust harder, and Tate grabbed
Markus tighter, fingernails digging in deeper. Tate
moaned and released, making a mess on his own
13
stomach. He panted and groaned and was barely able to
focus on the feeling of Markus twitching inside of him.
When his brain stopped floating and the fireworks
were no longer exploding in his vision, Tate realized
that he was just lying limply on the couch with Markus
still on top of him. He gently nudged Markus, who lifted
up a bit and looked down at him.
"Hey," Markus murmured.
"Hey. I don't mind you being on top of me, but you're
kind of crushing me."
Markus pulled out of him and sat on the far end of
the couch as Tate slowly moved to lean against the back
of the couch. Tate felt tired and well-used, but in the
best way possible. Markus got up and went to the small
trashcan in the corner of the room to throw away the
condom.
"So& . Is that what you really came over for?" Tate
asked with a wry grin.
"No. But I'm going to call it a fortunate encounter."
Markus managed a shy smile in return that Tate found
adorable. "We're going to be able to maintain
professionalism in the office if we keep doing this, aren't
we?"
"Of course we are," Tate assured. He was about to
say something else calming when he heard a trilled
sound, and Jolene flew over to him, landing on the arm
of the couch and eyeing him like a wary mother. "There
you are. What did you do with yourself while I
entertained company?"
Jolene whistled and said, "Give it to me harder."
Markus blushed but Tate burst out laughing.
"Dirty-minded bird," Tate said, shaking a finger in
front of her beak. Jolene leaned forward and nipped his
finger.
14
Markus got up and started pulling on his clothes. "I
should probably be going. Tomorrow is going to be a
very stressful day in the advertising department."
"At least we have some new ideas to present. Fingers
crossed they'll like one of them." Tate slowly got to his
feet and pulled his pants back on before going to the
door with Markus. "I guess I'll see you at work
tomorrow."
"You will. Good night, Tate."
"Good night, Mr. Athel."
"Squawk, Mr. Athel is a hard-ass."
Markus paused with his hand on the doorknob.
"Excuse me?"
Tate blushed bright red as Markus turned around and
stared at him flatly, only a tiny bit of amusement
showing in his eyes. "Um& ." Tate laughed awkwardly,
and then turned a glare on Jolene. "Stupid bird!"
"Who's a pretty girl?"
End.
If you liked this book you might like: Reciprocity
15
Blabbermouth
Copyright © 2012 by Jamie Lowe
All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used
or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission except in case of brief quotations embodied
in critical articles or reviews. For information address
Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX
78680
Printed in the United States of America.
Torquere Press, Inc.: Sips electronic edition / July 2012
Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press,
Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680
16