The mayor and the milkman have their regularly scheduled meeting to scratch a particular itch at their rendezvous point, only to be very rudely
interrupted.
⚠
It's a smidge NSFW.
Loki stood at the back of the stables, staring down into the large trunk in the saddle room. He’d been standing there for almost fifteen minutes, his mind wandering. His thoughts weren’t on anything in particular. In fact, it was almost as if he were in a trance. A daze. Hypnotized by some lingering memory, perhaps. It was probably just nerves. Stress. The election campaign had been going well, but it had been stressful. Even more difficult was the fact that Julia was hard at work on her research and couldn’t support him entirely. That was fine, of course. That was an agreement they’d made years ago when they were married. They both had their career ambitions and neither would get in the way of the other’s. That was a promise they made in their vows. And it worked. And, truth be told, Julia was actually more successful than Loki in the professional arena. Some men in the community wouldn’t have been able to handle it. But Loki liked it. He enjoyed having a woman of power as his wife. It was alluring. Enticing. And it gave him ample opportunity to explore his own hobbies.
A light green glow, possibly a reflection from the hanging lamp above his head, seemed to emanate from the trunk. Loki reached down and ran his palm over something soft. A wool blanket covering the contents. Then he closed the trunk and latched it up. He slipped the key in the pocket of his riding slacks and drew a large tarp over the trunk. Then he grabbed a saddle off a hitch on the wall and made his way out to the main row of stables.
Loki draped the saddle over a metal wall mount beside the door to Sleipnir’s stall. The large, steely-eyed horse lifted its head from the hay bucket and gave Loki a serious stare. No one else at the equestrian society dared to brush Sleipnir down, let alone ride him. Most saw that look in his eyes and immediately walked away. He was dangerous. Unpredictable. Loki was the only one able to control him. Keep him calm. It was as though they had a bond beyond merely horse and rider. Something almost unnatural. As if they could merely look into each other’s eyes and know what the other was thinking.
But wasn’t that how all owners felt about their pets?
Loki reached into his back pocket and took out a small carrot. Sleipnir sniffed Loki’s hand cautiously as though he, too, were a little suspicious. Then he ate the carrot in three quick crunching bites.
Loki glanced down at his watch. Ken was late. And Loki wasn’t going to wait for him. The milkman had one more minute before Loki started saddling Sleipnir. There were some things in life worth delaying. But a ride on a nice afternoon was not one of them.
It wasn’t like Ken to run late on his route -- he was almost always perfectly prompt for his deliveries and if the meeting time with Loki hadn’t been adjusted to twenty minutes earlier than what was usual for them, that would have continued without any issue.
Except he’d managed to lose track of the time while he was on his lunch break. Shoot!
So much for trying to eat in a hurry so that he wouldn’t be late.
As if on cue, he came practically speed-walking his way into the stables, knowing his way toward exactly where he needed to go. It was where they always met. A quiet, darker area where they wouldn’t dare be disturbed. Their rendezvous were always short lived -- the Mayor was a busy man, after all, and Ken had deliveries to keep up with so that he wouldn’t cause a domino effect from one house to the next.
He cleared his throat softly to announce his presence, pulling his cap from his head and moving up beside him, draping an arm casually along the gate that kept them separated from the large steed, a hint of a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I’m terribly sorry for my tardiness, sir. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”
Loki wasn’t a naive man. While there could have been a multitude of reasons as to why Ken was late, there was only one reason that Loki assumed it was. Because he was dawdling with one housewife or another. This didn’t bother Loki. He couldn’t care less. He wasn’t a jealous man. Selfish, yes. But not jealous. Lovers were a dime a dozen. Even good ones. And Loki’s fascination with the milkman was entirely based on ego. He liked the way Ken looked. He appreciated the cut of his physique and the fact that he had good hygiene. He also enjoyed the way he made love. But mostly it was the thrill of getting away with it that attracted Loki the most. His feelings went no further than that.
His heart — if he had one — only belonged to one person.
Loki turned and cast a peering glance at Ken. He stood at a half cant, the snug fabric of his riding pants clinging to his legs even tighter than the form-fitting polo shirt he wore. His high riding boots were gleaming. Not new. Worn leather. But clean. He was meticulous. He took great care with regards to his appearance and presence. And even the musky scent of his cologne outweighed the scent of horse, hay, and muck.
“I don’t appreciate being kept waiting. My schedule doesn’t leave a lot of room for unexpected changes.” Loki smirked. He hung Sleipnir’s bridle on a hook above the saddle mount and stepped towards the other man. He stopped within inches of him, two fingers slipping into his waistband and tugging him closer. “Next time I won’t wait.”
Loki stared directly in Ken’s eyes. There was a pause. A moment of waiting. He didn’t even glance towards the barn door to see if anyone else was approaching. He should have, but that wasn’t how the game was played.
Twenty minutes wasn’t a lot of time.
Loki brought his other hand to the front of Ken’s slacks and began undoing his belt. When he spoke it was mere centimeters from his lips. Purposely close, but not touching. “I hope whoever held you up was worth it.”
Ken couldn’t quite remember when they’d begun sneaking around in the stables during his delivery routes, but that was neither here nor there, because he just enjoyed the opportunity to get to be with him. There was nothing romantic about it; there never had been. The physical attraction had always been intense, however, and he never hid how much he liked seeing what the mayor hid under that neatly kept appearance.
Today was no different. His eyes wandered over the polo first and then down over his slacks, allowing himself just a moment to appreciate that particular view.
The grin that had been toying at the corners of his mouth finally broadened when the other man tugged him closer. His arm stayed on the gate beside them, but his free hand came down, fingertips grazing along the fabric of the polo shirt Loki wore before brushing against the front of his riding pants.
“Truthfully, you can blame the butcher at the deli,” he responded in a hushed voice, one eyebrow arching slightly, something amused in his tone as he spoke. “Seemed to take an age and a half for him to make my sandwich today.”
“A meat sandwich? If that’s a euphemism, it's a very poor one.” Loki licked his lower lip as Ken’s hand brushed against the front of his slacks. Whatever irritated glimmer in his eyes he had, spurned by the milkman’s tardiness, dissipated almost immediately. Replaced by a knowing smirk. He finished undoing Ken’s belt and slowly undid the zipper. “I don’t have a lot of time today. It’s a busy week.”
Truthfully he had no business even tempting the timetable of his schedule. This was the worst week for him to be indulging in dalliances. Especially after the photographs he’d received in the mail. Photographs that forced him to hire a private investigator. An investigator he still wasn’t sure he could trust. But he didn’t have a choice. He was up against a wall. His options were limited. And his career was on the line if those pictures got out. No, not just his career. His family.
Everything.
The risk of being caught in an illicit affair wasn’t worth everything he could lose. But Loki was an impulsive man. And his ego was second to none. He’d never lost. He always came out on top. And he had no reason to believe today would be any different.
“So, tell me what you want. And make it good.” Loki leaned in close and bit Ken’s lower lip. Not hard. Not enough to make it bleed. But enough to instigate a devious thought. Then he let go. “It might be a while before we have the opportunity to do this again.”
“Then I suppose we better get to it, hm? Twenty minutes sure isn’t a lot of time, though we’ve managed in less.” Now that grin was bright and cheeky. His hand turned, fingers downward so that he could fully cup the front of Loki’s slacks now, massaging him through the fabric, eager to get him hard though without coming across as desperate. Or so he hoped.
Ken let out a softly choked noise when Loki bit his lower lip and he had to stop himself from leaning in, following his moves in order to catch his mouth in a kiss. Something heated and with fervor. Instead he just tightened his grip on the bulge in his pants, his tongue flicking out briefly to not only wet his own lower lip, but teasingly brush at Loki’s.
“Well, if this is going to be last time for a good while, then perhaps it ought to be about what you want. Though to answer your question,” that really hadn’t been a question so much as a demand, “I want you to fuck me.” He breathed those words against his lips, his fingers moving now to loosen the button and zipper on his riding pants. “I want to feel you and I want you to make it ache.”
“You’ve managed in less, perhaps. I have incredibly vigorous stamina.” Loki’s mouth began to curl into a knowing smirk when Ken cupped the front of his slacks. A soft breath, almost a sigh, fell from his lips. It was a desperate action on the milkman’s part. But that’s part of why they were doing this, wasn’t it? Because Ken was hopelessly desperate and Loki was eternally bored.
At least Loki had the civility not to say anything dispiriting. He was nothing if not encouraging. And if Ken wanted to pretend like he was smooth and easy-going about his desires, then Loki could indulge that game of pretend. Even if Ken did look too anxious and frazzled when he hurried into the barn not a few minutes earlier. A clear sign of desperation if ever there was one.
Down to business. Loki liked that Ken was blunt about what he wanted. It saved Loki having to decipher body language. He was good at reading people. He had a good eye for subtleties. But that kind of conversation took too long. And this wasn’t about lavishing in the pleasure of each other’s company. This was about scratching an itch. And when it was over, Loki would move on to his next itch. A long stretch of woodland with more than a few fences begging to be jumped being the main focus of today’s long-needed scratch.
“Gladly,” Loki said, tugging Ken into the empty stall across from Sleipnir where the stablehands were currently housing two large barrels of hay. He twirled Ken around and shoved him towards one of the barrels, forcing him over it in a bend. He brushed up close to him from behind and worked Ken’s pants down over his hips. Then he leaned forward near the back of his ear and whispered. “But no one makes me ache.”
And it was because of that lean that he failed to notice the shadow walk past the small window at the back of the stall.
A thrill raced up Ken’s spine as Loki pulled him into the empty stall, that smug, knowing grin on his face. Desperate or not, the fact that the longer haired man even bothered with him when, truthfully, he could have anyone he wanted (and likely did) gave Ken a bit more excitement than he got with the housewives. Sure, the risk of being caught was still there, but it wasn’t on the same level as having a sexual affair with the mayor, now was it?
Muffling any noise of pleasure was something he’d come to excel at, so he swallowed back the groan that had built in his throat as he pushed his bare ass back against Loki’s crotch, hips rocking up and down slightly to cause friction to the front of his slacks.
“Then make me ache,” he whispered back, turning his head just a little toward him, his tongue coming out to wet his lower lip again. “Fuck me so hard I can still feel it two days from now.”
His attention was fully on the man behind him at this point, which perhaps wasn’t the smartest thing -- they needed to be on alert in case anyone came into the stables, didn’t they? But it had never been an issue before. Anyone who needed to know knew that Mayor Laufeyson wasn’t to be bothered when he was tending to his horse.
Or being tended to.
It was a ridiculous risk. They all were. Loki hadn’t always been so complacent about his good fortune. There’d been a time when he wouldn’t have dared presume that he couldn’t be caught. A time when he was more careful. More calculating in his actions. But as the years went on that lust for danger grew. That need for adventure. Not that there was much in the way of adventure in the small, cosy town of Dunwich. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered staying in that place. Surely, he was capable of much more illustrious destinations. Julia, too. Together they could have achieved whatever they wanted. Loki was certain of that. It was something he knew deep down in his core. A truth that existed much deeper than any other.
Loki and Julia were destined for greater things than Dunwich.
And yet, for now, Dunwich was what they had. And for reasons unknown to Loki, perhaps unknown to his wife as well, they were content with it. Satisfied. It suited their purposes for the time being.
But there was a desire for something much loftier in Loki. He just didn’t have the words to explain what it was. Not yet, anyway.
Ken grinded his hips against his pelvis and Loki withheld an — shh! Don’t tell! — aching moan. Then his fingers went to the front of his slacks, undoing the button and zipper of his unforgiving riding pants. He pulled down the waistband, halfway to freeing his throbbing need, when a brilliant flash blinded his one eye.
Loki blinked. He was seeing photo spots. He blinked and turned his head just as another flash went off. Then he saw it. The camera. Held by a figure clothed in all black from head to toe. And the moment they caught Loki’s gaze, they sprinted down the center of the barn towards the exit.
“Shit.” Loki stumbled backward from Ken, quickly stuffing himself back into his slacks and zipping up. Sleipnir whinnied in the stall across from them, but Loki paid the horse no heed. Instead he went dashing after the stranger.
But when he reached the outside, the figure was gone. Vanished. Seemingly in thin air.
“Damn!”
Where could they have gone?
One moment it was all anticipation and desire and the next everything had come to a complete standstill. The flash of light startled Ken and he had to turn his head away, grimacing, trying to blink his vision back to something normal. He saw the second flash and cursed under his breath. Well, so much for this little rendezvous.
As soon as Loki had moved away, his fingers hurried to tug up the fabric of his own slacks back over his hips. He sat back on his haunches long enough to do the button and zipper back up before pushing himself to a standing position and following Loki out of the stall.
Not that it was going to do any good. Whoever it was that had caught them in such a compromising position would be long gone by now.
Ken sighed and ran a hand over his face in frustration, both at being caught and not getting this particular itch scratched. Hell, he wasn’t sure that it would ever be scratched again. Not now that someone not only knew about their little affair, but knew where it was conducted. The risk had always been there, but this close to the election and it seemed to triple. No, quadruple.
He found his cap that had been left on the barn floor across from the stall he’d been pulled into -- well, that certainly was a give away of who Loki was with if nothing else -- and brushed a small amount of excess dirt from the white fabric before he folded it, neatly, and tucked it into the back pocket of his slacks. Then he brushed off the knees of those and sighed again, looking up to see if Loki was returning.
Loki circled the entire barn, eyes peeled for any sign of where the mysterious photographer had disappeared to. By the time he made it back around to the main entrance his mind was in a panic. How could they be so quick? Where could they have hidden? How had they known exactly where to find him?
Loki kicked the barn door and let out an aggravated yell.
A pair of young girls walking their ponies out to the indoor riding hall sent nervous glances his way. Then hurried along.
“Fuck,” Loki growled. He wanted to punch something. His nerves felt like they were on fire. Even worse was the realization that he might have to explain this to Julia.
No. No, that he wouldn’t do. He could resolve this on his own. He’d already hired a private investigator to help him with one problem. Surely it wouldn’t cost too much to add this as well. Of course, that’s when another thought hit him. That this was the same person who sent those other photographs to his office.
But if this truly was blackmail then why wouldn’t they give him their demands? Did they expect him to read their minds?
He turned back towards the stables, pausing when he saw Ken standing in the main doorway. Loki had almost forgotten about him. He glared as though he somehow blamed the milkman for all of this. He didn’t. He just didn’t have a good outlet for his anger. Then again…
“You aren’t behind this, are you?” Loki stepped up to him, face to face again. “This isn’t some trick of yours to earn yourself an extra paycheck, is it?”
There it was. He knew somewhere in the not-so-back of his mind that he’d be blamed for this, somehow. That it would be his fault they were caught, despite the fact that he was always overly cautious when meeting up with Loki.
He frowned slightly at him and shook his head. “No, I would never.” He enjoyed their meetings too much to risk losing it over money. He lowered his voice to more of a whisper when he spoke next. “I don’t know what’s going on, but if whoever that was actually did manage to take photos of us and they get out, we’re both in trouble.”
Ken knew he’d lose his job if he was ever found out. That had always been part of the excitement of it, but now that there was a real threat…
He sighed a little and glanced off to the side. “And I swear,” he said, holding up his left hand, “I have no idea how we were found out. You know I’m always careful not to be seen. I parked where I usually park and walked over the way I always do.”
Loki didn’t really think that Ken could be behind this, but he had to ask. He had to look him in the eyes and see his answer. He had to hear it to be certain. And now he had. And, truthfully, Loki believed him. Ken might have had motive and opportunity, but it just didn’t feel right. There was something more ominous at work here. And if the leads Sylvie was following were any indication of how deep the trail of bed crumbs went then there was no way Ken could be behind it. Not that Loki was undermining the milkman’s intelligence, but there was a layer of sophistication to this that didn’t line up with Loki’s view of Dunwich’s reliable delivery man.
Doctored photographs. Mysterious dinner parties. Lost memories. And a photographer who could disappear in the middle of the day?
Loki didn’t know what to think, but the signs didn’t point to Ken.
He sighed, his shoulders drooping in momentary defeat. Then he walked past Ken to grab his jacket from inside the barn. He paused for a moment, thinking back to the trunk in the saddle room. Could this have anything to do with…?
No. That wasn’t possible.
Loki slipped his jacket on. “I have to go.”
He needed to get to a phone and call Sylvie. She needed to know about this sooner rather than later. And Loki needed to make sure he contained the fallout.
He was about to leave without another word when he paused. He looked back at Ken, his brows tugged towards the center of his forehead in concern. For a split second it looked as though he might say something affectionate. Possibly something poignant. An apology, even. But he didn’t. Instead he reached into his pocket and took out a carrot. “Give this to Sleipnir, will you? But mind your fingers. He bites.”
He felt a small wave of relief over the fact that Loki seemed to believe him. That was one of the more prominent downsides to having an affair with someone in a position of power like that — if he thought differently, he could absolutely ruin Ken’s life without hardly any effort and he was always acutely aware of that fact.
Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, his breath hitched briefly when Loki paused and turned. Now what? He was surprised when the other man pulled out a carrot and offered it to Ken.
He looked down at it and then back up at him, reaching to take it with a small smile. “I will.” That was enough for him — even if their meeting was cut painfully short, he appreciated that he was being entrusted to spend at least a short time with the stallion he was quietly fascinated with. “I hope you’re able to figure out what’s going on and catch the culprit, sir.”
And even though he knew the chances were now slimmer than usual, he also hoped that maybe once the election was over, they could go back to their meetings.
They’d just have to find somewhere new for them, that’s all.