A Most Sensual Creature

DISCLAIMER: This story is a non-commercial work of fiction based on the anime GATCHAMAN. Original copyright of GATCHAMAN belongs to Tatsunoko Productions and Sandy Frank Entertainment. Absolutely no monetary gain has been made with this work.

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AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is my reply to the challenge posed to me by my best friend, Aya. After reading Ken's steamy "solo flight" in Chap. 4 of "There's Something About Birdstyle", she dared me to write a DIY, but this time, featuring Joe. She even had several conditions as I was struggling to come up with a logical sequence of events: 1) That there will be no peeping toms, similar to what happened in "The Condor, The Eagle and The Turtle"; 2) Absolutely no appearances of any members of the Kagaku Ninjatai, especially Ken and Jun; 3) That Joe will not fantasize about ANYONE while he was doing it, especially Jun or Ken; and 4) That it should NOT deteriorate into a torrid straight sex scene between Joe and Jun or an even more shocking yaoi encounter between Joe and Ken. Well, I tried to my best to adhere to her conditions, but even the strictest of rules could be bent in some way.

This is for Aya. I really and truly hope that this story does not turn your virgin brain to mush.


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A MOST SENSUAL CREATURE
(c) June 11, 2008 By Rory V. Pascual


If there is anything that could be said about Joe Asakura, it's that he has the most appalling luck when it came to women.

It's not that he was unappealing to the fairer sex. With his rugged good looks, piercing gray eyes and fine toned body, he has had his share of admiring glances from both women AND men. The problem was Joe was a veritable walking magnet for the WRONG types of women. Although he carried himself with the deadly grace and cockiness of his alter ego Kondoru no Joe, it did not deter any murderous femme fatales from trying to seduce him and then stick a dagger in his guts, pop a few bullets in his head, or blow him up to smithereens with bombs disguised as pretty roses.

"I...am...an...idiot!" Joe cursed himself for the hundredth time, pounding his forehead on the steering wheel of his Nissan with each berating word.

The self-abuse was not only intended as punishment for his stupidity at falling yet again into another trap set by Galactor, as if he hadn't learned his lesson from similar incidents in the past. He also wanted to clear his head of the rainbow-colored cotton candy clouds that seemed to have replaced his brain and which were radiating rays of delightful heat, which made his entire body uncomfortable yet deliciously warm in spite of the freezing storm that was pelting his car and the highway with millions of big fat raindrops.

Joe could only thank his lucky stars that no one drove through this lonely stretch of road at such an ungodly hour of the night. With his mind giddy and his body sluggish, avoiding a head-on collision with an oncoming vehicle would be impossible. He was in such a state of unease that he would often lean against the steering wheel to peer through his rain-blurred windshield, only to plop right back into his seat when the tightness in his jeans crotch became too unbearable.

"Damn it!" Joe muttered under his breath. "What the hell did that bitch do to me?

He was about to wipe away the sweat from his fevered brow with the back of his left hand when an urgent voice spoke through the communicator of his wristband.

"G-2. G-2! This is G-1, over."

"What now?" He raised the blinking bracelet to his lips. "This is G-2. What's up?"

"Are you all right?"

Ken's concerned query caught Joe off-guard. Although he knew that their bracelets did not have visual transmission capabilities, there was something in the Eagle's tone that made him feel suddenly self-conscious. He glanced down guiltily at his brand new T-shirt, which was now ruined by the carnage he had just escaped from. No amount of washing at the Laundromat could remove the dark red patches of blood. There was also a large tear in his right pants leg from the slash of a chained blade.

It took a few seconds before he could answer. When he did, the first thing that came out of his mouth was a low and husky, "Why do you ask?"

The Eagle could not hide his agitation and worry as he replied, "I've just received an incident report. A biker bar in the outskirts of the city was blown to bits by a huge explosion. There were no survivors. A passing trucker said he saw a blue car drive away from the scene before the big bang."

"Yeah, it was me." Joe was amazed by how relaxed he sounded. Usually when Ken confronted him about something unpleasant, he always had a heated reply ready.

"What happened?"

And so he told him. Joe had been out on the town, making himself an irresistible game for any pretty, nubile female desirous of the company of a dashing, hot-blooded young man like him.

Without fail, Joe was approached by an ebony-haired beauty with slanting green eyes and invited him for a few drinks in the biker bar in question. He should have suspected something was wrong when a cursory glance of the place revealed an all-female clientele. He should have been even more suspicious when his date personally picked up their drinks from the lady bartender - who was as brawny as a professional wrestler - behind the counter. Even after he had completely downed his drink, which was sweeter than usual, Joe did not suspect anything.

Not until he felt his mind slowly melting into caramel ooze and a hand caressed his cheek, his date whispering in his ear, "You work for Nambu Hakase, right, honey? How about telling us the real identities of the Kagaku Ninjatai?"

At that question, the other women stood up from their seats, whipping off their disguises to reveal the masks and uniforms of Galactor's elite female death squad. The bartender was even brandishing a long chain with sharp blades on both ends.

Laughing, his hand casually dropped to his side to pull down the zipper of his jeans to reveal the hidden sheath of feather shurikens strapped to his thigh.

"Why, ladies!" Joe exclaimed then, pleasantly high from whatever drug it was they had given him. "You'll have to rape that information out of me!"

The Condor could not help but laugh, hearing Ken's groan. He continued, "Well, I won't bore you to tears with the details. Suffice to say, I was beating and slashing the crap out of them when my date decided to make roast condor out of me with a rose bomb bouquet. But as that trucker said, I got out of there before the bar went sky high. Yes, sirree!"

Joe could imagine Ken shaking his head as he remarked, "I can't believe you're taking a near fatal encounter with Devilstars so lightly."

"Oh, don't be such a worry wart! I'm telling you, I'm fine. Never felt better, I assure you."

"You don't sound fine to me, Joe," Ken observed with blunt frankness. "That drug they had given you could be poison. I want you to return to base this instant so a doctor could check you out."

"Ken, listen. If they had poisoned me, all they had to do was wait for me to drop dead on the floor. They wouldn't have gone to all that trouble to attack me en masse. Nah! I'm pretty sure what they slipped into my drink was some happy wacky truth serum."

"You're not just 'happy wacky', Condor! You're delirious!" Ken said in exasperation. He switched to the tone of voice he uses whenever he wanted to pull rank on a recalcitrant subordinate. "Return to base, Joe. That's an order!"

Joe never thought he would actually use his animal charisma on Gatchaman, although he had seen its effects on the ladies who have had the privilege of enjoying his company. However, because of the Devilstar drug, he was in that mischievous a mood to pit sweet charm against iron-willed authority just to see what would happen. Besides, it's been ages since he'd last teased his best friend.

Pitching his voice much lower, Joe murmured with languid huskiness, "You know what, Ken? I never realized just how sexy your voice is. So...commanding..."

There was an outraged squawk followed by lengthy silence. Joe waited patiently.

"Great! Just great!" Ken sputtered. "Not only is he happy wacky, he's horny too!"

The Condor lowered his hand so that the Eagle would not hear his chuckles over the communicator. It wasn't difficult to envision just how red Ken's face had become.

"Seriously, Ken, I'm okay. Don't worry about me," Joe said in sincere reassurance. "It's nothing that a cold shower and a good night's sleep couldn't cure."

There was a heavy sigh of surrender on the other end. "All right, if you say so," was the grudging answer. "But promise you'll call me if you start to feel bad or something."

"I promise. Listen, I have to sign off. It's raining cats and dogs out here and I might miss the turn-off." The Condor then added, "Thanks a lot for caring, Ken. I mean it."

"Well, it's my job to worry about you guys, although YOU seem hell bent on driving me to an early grave with your recklessness."

"Sorry."

"Apology accepted. Just...don't do that again."

"Do what again?" the Condor asked in faux innocence.

"You know! THAT! What you did...earlier..." Ken stammered before ending the transmission with a brusque, "G-1 out!"

Joe clucked his tongue as he maneuvered the Nissan onto the small sheep path that branched off from the side of the main road. "Poor, poor Ken! I really should make the necessary arrangements for you to get laid before you turn nineteen next year."

As he carefully drove into the woods, the car hit a rock, causing the Condor to bounce up, the bulge in his crotch bumping against the steering wheel.

Wincing in pain, Joe mused wryly, "I guess I am a bit horny."

By the time he reached the small clearing where he had parked his trailer, Joe could no longer make any sense of the fleeting sensations that were coursing through his body. And he made no conscious attempt to do so. If it were pain, he would've contacted Ken in an instant. Heck, he would've screamed for the Eagle to have Ryu rush him to the nearest hospital in the God Phoenix, and at Firebird mode even.

But no, these sensations were different. They don't even compare to the times when he had blitzed his mind on excessive alcohol. These sensations were pleasant. He could even call them delightful, the way they made his body tingle all over.

As he stepped out of his car, the rain instantly drenched his bloodied form, but rather than shiver from the bite of the cold, Joe leaned against the Nissan, crossed his arms over his upper body, and gripped his shoulders. Tilting his head back, he let the rain fall on his face, every drop like a cold kiss upon his closed eyelids, high cheekbones and full, parted lips. As he let out a sigh, rainwater dribbled from his open mouth. When he finally turned to his trailer, the Condor did not run to its promise of warmth and shelter. Instead, he sang and danced.

The song just surged up from memory as the raindrops trickled from his chiseled jaw. It was a song that he had loved as a kid - "Here Comes The Rain Again" by the Eurhythmics. He always thought it was a sexy song - with its haunting synthpop melody and thumping bass and drum tracks that served as perfect backups for the singer's powerful vocals.

//Wonderful!// Joe thought in sardonic amusement. //Now I'm hearing Annie Lennox singing inside my head!//

If he were his usual self, he would have shrugged off the music that was playing in his mind. He was second-in-command of the Kagaku Ninjatai. Someone like him does not have the luxury to enjoy the simple daydreaming that ordinary people indulge in. But now, he saw no reason why he should not allow himself to let go just this once. Besides, no one was looking, so why not?

Pushing himself off the Nissan, Joe began to dance, his wet, nape-length café au lait hair plastered to his face, his drenched clothes molding to his body perfectly. Freed from all inhibitions, he moved with the grace of the exotic dancers he enjoyed watching at his favorite strip club - his hands and arms sweeping over and caressing his swaying body and gyrating hips. The rich baritone of his voice complimented Lennox's vocals, overpowering even the din of the rain.

Joe found himself bursting into wild laughter. He wondered how Ken and the others would react if they saw him like this.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, modesty and propriety came to the fore. Realizing what a temptation he would be to peeping toms and other perverts - and there was still the remote possibility that his teammates could drop by unannounced - Joe twirled clumsily on his toe and went inside the trailer.

Breathless from laughing and dancing, for a moment, he stood with his back against the door. He glanced down at his rain- and blood-soaked garments.

"Oh, hell with it!"

Gripping his T-shirt at the neckline, Joe tore it from his body, the sodden fabric stretching and rending easily in his hands. Wadding it into a ball, he tossed the ruined T-shirt through the partly open window above his bed. Unbuckling his belt, he yanked his jeans down his long legs, his shoes getting pulled off in the process. Tugging off his socks last, he pushed open the door to the second room and turned left into the bathroom, stepping into the shower and turning on both the hot and cold taps.

As warm water fell upon him, a bone-deep shudder gripped his being. It certainly wasn't because of the sudden change in temperature.

//Were my showers always this...delicious?// Joe could not think of any other word that would best describe what he was feeling.

The drug that was flowing through his veins like hot liquid metal has increased his sensitivity. Whereas before, baths were a 'soap, splash and run' affair, now it was a luxurious stimulant for the senses. Every warm drop of water was like a tiny kiss that teased every millimeter of his body upon which it fell. As it sluiced down his skin in rivulets, it felt like the slide of hot fingertips upon his every curve and contour. His breath came out as little pants, as water streamed down the crevices of his crotch to drip from the tip of his foreskin.

Feeling weak-kneed, Joe took one, two wobbly steps backwards until his back hit the wall. The contact between burning skin and cold tiles surprised him, so that he had to press his arms and palms flat against the wall to keep himself from slipping to the floor. Then, he slowly turned his head to the side, and his shocked gaze met luminous silver-gray eyes that were so like his own. Ashamed, he spun around and pressed the front of his body to the wall, his right arm crossed over his chest and his left hand cupping his stirring genitals. However, his new position left his back exposed to the tormenting spray of his shower. He trembled as gusts of water slapped against the taut mounds of his buttocks while a thin stream flowed through the deep crack between them. Yet, he dared not move, not even blink from that sharp, knowing gaze, even if the small part of his mind that retained some measure of lucidity was telling him that he was just staring at his reflection in the full-length mirror hanging on the door of his closet.

The blush that colored Joe's cheeks were as becoming as a maiden's, as he begged coyly, "Please don't look at me like that."

To his drug-hazed mind, his reflection smiled back at him and shook his head. //"Why are you so shy, Joe? You know you have nothing to hide from me. I know every inch of you. Come now. Let me see you. Please, Condor? You are so beautiful."//

Embarrassed, Joe ducked his head even lower at that compliment. "How could you call me 'beautiful'? I'm a man for chrissake!"

//"Then let me show you that what I'm telling you is true. Now, be a good boy and turn over."//

With unaccustomed timidity, Joe obeyed his reflection and turned around once more, but not once breaking his gaze away from the mirror. The image that the glass showed him was that of an exotic creature, with dark blood streaks - like a zebra's stripes - running along the length and curves of his lithe form.

Then, a hand slowly lifted, followed by another. His eyelids fluttered shut as a gentle palm cupped the side of his face. A fingertip traced the arch of a high cheekbone.

//"Yes, you do indeed have the sharp cheekbones of a man..."// he heard his reflection speak in a baritone that was exactly like his own, except that now it seemed to echo within the confined space of the bath, even through the gush of the shower's spray.

"I told you, didn't I? I'm..." Joe did not finish what he was going to say as a fingertip was pressed over his mouth.

//"...Ah, but not your lips. True, when in your guise as the Condor, your mouth would harden with anger and frustration. But when you're like this - lost in the throes of passion - your lips become as full as a blossoming rosebud. Just like an alluring siren."//

"I'm not..."

The finger traced the bow of his lips before sliding into the moist depths of his mouth, stifling his surprised gasp.

//"Suck me, Joe."//

Like an obedient child, Joe worked his lips and tongue on the invading finger, tasting the salt on wet skin. His sucking motions became harder, faster as a hand caressed his neck, sweeping over his left shoulder before sliding down to his left breast. Then, a hard palm kneaded his chest, causing the dark flat disk to rise into a tight little nub of desire. When the finger slipped out of his mouth, Joe let out a low, luscious moan as his nipples were tweaked, pinched and rolled between callused fingertips. Feeling the rod between his legs rising, he realized that he could peak just from the stimulation of his sensitive tits alone.

However, an early release was not what his mirror lover wanted from him.

//"Come now, Joe!"// The voice was teasing, almost mocking. //"Surely you're not going to come just from nipple play alone?"//

Not trusting his mouth, Joe shook his head instead. While one hand continued to fondle his chest, the other moved even lower, following a straight line from his breastbone descending to the center groove between the bulges of his abs. Fingertips playfully tapped the tight packs of muscle, causing them to flex and undulate like small waves. A long shuddering moan again escaped his lips as a scorching palm slid over his flank and pressed down on his pelvis. Fingers ruffled the nest of curls before enclosing his erection in a grip of iron.

Joe bit down on his lip as the callused pad of a thumb flicked back the tiny hood of skin, exposing the rosy head hidden beneath. His whimpers were tight and frenetic, feeling the teasing digit draw an inward spiral, starting from the outer edges going towards the oozing slit, and then moving outwards again in the same circular motion to spread the dripping juices.

//"Now...open your eyes."//

Joe's eyelids felt heavy as he gingerly opened them. He had half-expected to see his mirror lover turned flesh, inflicting such delectable torments upon him. But upon beholding that it was he himself who was doing the exquisite ravishing, Joe lost all control.

Bending forward, he gripped the showerhead to keep him upright as he began stroking his member. Beneath his palm, he could feel the veins bulge and the arteries pulsate at the ever-increasing pressure. Already, the oozing at his tip had become a trickle, the slick fluid filling his palm, which in turn spread his slick essence like warm gel over his burgeoning erection.

Soon, Joe could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and he knew that he was about to topple over the edge. With a strangled cry, he jerked his cock upwards, almost tearing it from the root, and sent glistening sprays of come splattering on his chest and belly. His hold on the showerhead came loose, and he began to slip to the floor. Joe reached for the shower curtains to stop his fall, but the plastic sheet tore at the rings. Somehow, he managed to prop his hands and knees under him before he could crush his still semi-erect member. Dazed, he did not feel the shower curtain drape over his back.

For several minutes, Joe stayed in that position, panting and gasping for air, and trying to take stock of the shocking sensations, which instead of abating, continued to surge through every fiber of his being at an even greater intensity.

"It's not enough," Joe muttered hoarsely, pounding his fist in frustration on the floor. A quick glance down at his crotch revealed to that his member had risen to half-mast once more. "Damn it! Why is it still not enough?"

That insidious voice spoke again, and he realized that it was now coming from his own lips. //"Why do you complain, Joe? Only you can help yourself."//

"Stop it! Just stop it!" Joe cried in growing terror of these alien desires that were being aroused in him. He pressed his brow on the wet tiles as he wrapped his arms around his lower belly. "You're not real! You're just a hallucination, a product of the drug that the Devilstars had given me."

//"But you said so yourself. They wanted information from you, and what better way to get it than with a truth serum spiked with a most potent aphrodisiac. Why should you be afraid of the truth, Joe? I am you and you are me. You know what you want, Joe. You've ALWAYS known what you want...ever since she asked you that question."//

It was then that Joe remembered her. No, not the Devilstar. Another woman. A beautiful widow with long blonde hair fifteen years his senior whom he had met in a swanky bar on the night that he turned eighteen. They had later found themselves sharing a bed in the woman's hotel room. Grieving for her husband who had passed away after a lingering illness, Joe had done everything to comfort her - gentle words, tender kisses, the sharing of laughter and tears, and consequently the joining of the flesh that her husband's cruel disease had deprived the couple of.

She had been lying on the bed, her hair fanning across the pillow like shimmering gold threads, tears of happiness misting her bright blue eyes as she looked at him fondly.

"You are a most wonderful and considerate lover, Joe. How I wish you could know how you have made me feel!"

Slowly, Joe eased himself up on his haunches and turned off the faucets that had long since run dry. As he wrapped the shower curtain tightly around his naked body, his dripping brown hair fell on either side of his face, hiding his shame at having his secret desire exposed.

"I'm...afraid," he whispered to his other self. "What if it...should hurt?" His buttocks even clenched as he considered it.

//"Then, you'll never know, will you? All those women had entrusted their bodies, hearts and souls to you, even for a single night. And you had given them happiness. Why deprive yourself of the chance of experiencing the unique kind of joy you had given them?"//

At these convincing words, Joe stood up, stepping out of the tangle of the ruined shower curtains. But at the open doorway of the bathroom, he paused, eyeing the large sofa in the corner with apprehension.

More to delay what he was planning to do, he asked, "Shouldn't I do it...you know...in bed?"

//"And get the covers and the mattress wet?"// his mirror image chuckled. //"It's the sofa for you, Condor."//

Joe approached the worn leather furniture warily, eyeing it with increasing dread as though it were a Galactor booby trap. Even when he was practically standing right on top of it, he could not bring himself to sit, much more to lie down on it.

//"Now, now, don't be shy! We both know that you've read on it in some way, so you already know what to do."//

Joe turned completely red. "Shut up!" He gingerly sat down on the couch, the upholstery and springs creaking under his butt. Coming to the grim realization that there was no turning back from what he was about to do, he heaved his long legs up, spreading them into a wide V, and propped his ankles on the armrest. Taking two square cushions, he stuffed them beneath his butt, elevating it, before lying down.

It was a strange position, but not really uncomfortable. Thanks to the open window just above the sofa, it was a bit drafty. His cheeks turned crimson as a brisk wind blew inside the room and tickled his exposed nether parts. The tiny opening between his legs even greeted that playful wind with sweet kissing motions.

Somehow, the nouvelle position was making Joe feel wanton, lewd, a delectable kernel waiting to be plucked. He had always been at the giving end of sex. But now, he could not deny that he was indeed eager to know how it felt to receive such an illicit amorous attention.

Having reached that decision, Joe chose to abandon himself completely to the call of desire.

With the same tender ministrations he had given to his former lovers, Joe engaged in a most exquisite and languorous foreplay upon himself. His body twisted and writhed with the sinuousness of a snake as he explored every inch of his fevered, sensitive flesh, concentrating on areas that had earlier given him so much pleasure and discovering more little spots of intense delight.

Joe ran his fingers through the silken strands of his hair, now wet with sweat that oozed from the pores of his stimulated scalp. He found that the backs of his ears were ticklish, and he giggled as he played with the tiny lobes. Tracing fine lines down his neck and across his shoulders, his graceful arms swept over his upper body to form a cross. Like fluttering butterfly wings, his fingertips tapped and kneaded his flexing pectorals, and then lingered at the areolae, which had assumed a dark, rosy hue. Joe's chest surged upward, his back forming a perfect arch, when he shifted his tactile homage to his aching nipples. As he did so, he squeezed his thighs close, trapping the rebellious member between them. Every tweak of the sensitive tits and the friction between skin and hard cock sent jolts of electricity zipping through the rest of his body. Joe let out a whimper as his rod sprang up from its trap, but he still possessed the presence of mind to seize it and his tightening balls at the root, preventing it from shooting its precious load.

"No, not yet," Joe whispered huskily as he patted his poor erection as though placating an angry little animal. "In a while, okay? I promise it will get a lot better."

Unconvinced by that promise, his cock sagged in disappointment upon his belly like a limp worm, but not before dribbling a small amount of slick fluid into his navel. Curious, Joe gathered a little of his essence on his finger and tasted it. Somehow, he was not surprised to find that it tasted sweet, just like the truth serum that the Devilstar had slipped into his drink. Then, strengthening his resolve, he pinned his cock to his belly with his left hand to expose the region underneath.

With his right hand, Joe explored the parts that he never dared touch before, and he was shocked by the intense sensations that emanated from them. Sweeping caresses over his perineum - that strip of tissue between his cock and his ass - sent delicious shivers throughout his body. As he played with that strip of flesh, his rod quivered in his grip, aching to be released. But what surprised him were the subtle contractions of his ass. He could feel the puckered rosebud actually teasing his fingertip like tiny lips, begging for some attention. And Joe was only too happy to oblige.

Although infamous for his impatience, Joe was the epitome of infinite gentleness as he teased the tiny bud - first tracing the wrinkled edges of the circular opening with an index finger and then lightly tapping the pinpoint hole. His index finger was soon joined by his middle finger, and he increased the pressure upon the opening in increments. After all, in the back of his mind, there was still the fear of pain. Yet, with every rub and every press, the hole seemed to grow bigger and bigger as well, as the sphincter began to relax. In order to loosen himself up further, he began taking deep breaths, timing it with the rhythm set by his fingers.

So it was that the next time he set his fingertips upon his ass, the bud suddenly opened up like a blossoming flower, gripped his fingers, and just sucked them in. Rather than feel pain at his invading digits' abrupt passage through his channel, he found himself profoundly amazed. Was this how a woman felt when he was inside them - this feeling of fullness and completeness? But then, sudden contact of a fingertip with a chestnut sized bump inside him caused rainbow-colored lights to flash before his shocked gray eyes, and a surprised cry escaped from his lips. Such was the intensity of that response, so that his cock broke free from his grasp and sprang up to attention like a dedicated soldier. Wanting to feel those mind-blowing sensations again, Joe needed no further encouragement.

Joe's cries were lustful and frenzied as he pumped his erection mercilessly. At the same time, he pounded his fingers again and again inside his ass. His cries turned to screams whenever his fingertips struck or merely brushed against his gland. He was transformed into a primal animal, his pleasures, desires and passions solely governed by the power of his hands that sought to pound and squeeze him into erotic oblivion. He wanted to prolong this state of sensual mindlessness, where nothing existed for him - not his tragic past, not the Kagaku Ninjatai and the ISO, not Galactor, certainly not the world. The Earth could be destroyed at that very moment, and he wouldn't care. The only things that mattered to him were the sensations that were being elicited from the relentless stroking of his silken rod and the battering of his ass.

So it was when the end came, Joe screamed as his body was seized in the grip of a cataclysmic earthquake, shockwaves rippling through every cell like a tsunami. His cock gushed out its load like a geyser, sending copious semen spraying up to his face. He could feel his ass constrict convulsively around his fingers, refusing to let go. For a while, he kept his fingers inside him, fearing that removing them prematurely would hurt him. But then, there came another surprise. After that first powerful quake, it was followed by an aftershock - less intense, but still enough to make him gasp. As he lay on the couch, he felt another wave ripple through him...and another...and another...and another...

When it was all over, his sphincter just relaxed completely, and he slipped his fingers out of his channel. Even his cock had flopped down in peaceful repose between his thighs. Soon, Joe too was overcome by the weariness of the sated. A small smile curling up at the corners of his lips, he sagged bonelessly onto the couch and drifted off into blissful sleep.

The sun had just peeked at the horizon when Ken's bike rattled to a halt beside Joe's trailer. Despite his friend's reassurance that he was all right, the leader of the Kagaku Ninjatai could not shake away the feeling that there was something wrong and ended up not sleeping a wink all night from worrying too much. Ken knew that Joe would have his head for acting like an overprotective parent, but he wanted to see for himself that the Condor was indeed well.

The Eagle found himself staring dumbly at the bunch of yellow daisies in his arms. He had stumbled upon a patch of the flowers at the side of the road and ended up stopping to pick up a few of the pretty blooms. Now that he had them, he did not know what to do with them. Giving them to Jun was out of the question. He did not want her getting any ideas about his possibly being attracted to her. But, being the commander of the Kagaku Ninjatai did not accord him the privilege of love and romance.

He could give them to Joe though. That is, if the Condor doesn't end up getting any funny ideas inside his head as well. Joe could get pretty dirty-minded at times when it came to relationships and sex that it infuriated Ken to no end.

But what choice did he have? Rather than see the flowers go to waste, Ken bunched them up nicely and marched towards the front door of the trailer. After all, everyone gives flowers to the sick, don't they?

The Eagle knocked once and then twice, but there was no reply. Frowning, he knocked much louder to the point that he was practically banging on the door. And yet, there was nothing. Not a sound.

He walked around the trailer to the window where he knew Joe's bed was located, not noticing the ruined T-shirt lying in a mud puddle. "Joe? Joe! Hey! Are you all right in there?" He even tried jumping up and down, but he could not get a good look inside. Ken paused at every window, calling out to his friend, his agitation growing at the silence within.

Stopping at the corner window at the back of the trailer, Ken carefully climbed up on the seat of his bike and peeked through the window. His blue eyes instantly widened in horror.

Running back to the front door, the Eagle yanked down the side zipper of his white bellbottoms. Taking a feather shuriken, he used the sharp point to jimmy the lock. As the door clicked open, Ken rushed inside the trailer. His heart stopped at the sight of the naked figure lying face down on the couch. He ran towards Joe, dropping the bouquet on the floor beside him.

Although he was relieved to find his friend still breathing, Ken was in a state of panic. "Joe! Oh my god! Joe, are you sick?" He pressed his palm over the Condor's forehead, but found it cool.

Looking for possible wounds and other signs of injury, it was then that the Eagle actually got a good look at Joe's body. Come still crusted his lower body, with a small amount smeared on his cheek. There was a little blood between his thighs.

Ken lifted the Condor's face in his hands, wiping away the dried semen and sweat. "Joe? Come on, buddy! Wake up! Please wake up!"

At these frantic cries, Joe's forehead creased in a frown. Slowly, he opened his eyes. At first peeved at being woken up so rudely, a charming smile formed on his lips as he beheld his best friend.

"Oh hi, Ken!" he greeted the Eagle with lazy cheerfulness. "What brings you here so early in the morning?"

"Why YOU, of course!" Ken blurted out in shocked incredulity. "Do you have to ask that question? I was worried sick about you! I had to come!"

"Ken...I told you I was fine."

The Eagle waved to Joe's blood-flecked thighs. "You call THIS 'fine'?"

"Watch the butt, pal!" the Condor growled in warning, his gray eyes narrowing at the sight of Ken's hand hovering above his ass. "I'm still a little sore down there."

"Who did this to you? It was...rape, wasn't it. Was it...a Galactor?" Thoughts of revenge for the loss of his friend's innocence were already running through Gatchaman's mind.

Joe laughed at his friend's agitated queries. Seeing the growing outrage on that boyish face, he simply asked in turn, "Do you think me the type of guy who would serve his ass to a goon in an ugly green mask, or to any man for that matter?"

"No, but..." Ken stuttered over the embarrassing questions that he could not bring himself to ask. "Then how...why..."

"Blame it on the Devilstar drug. As it turned out, it wasn't just a truth serum. It was also a powerful aphrodisiac. Nothing I couldn't handle, I assure you, although I ended up doing the craziest things last night."

With great care, the Condor turned on his side to face the Eagle, and assumed a most seductive pose - flushed face cradled on his pressed hands, arms shielding the nakedness of his upper body, and the right leg crossing over the left to inadequately conceal his manly jewels.

"Still..." Joe continued huskily as he gave Ken a devastating smile. "...A little experimentation never hurt anyone."

The Eagle's blue eyes were as wide as saucers at that stunning confession. "You mean...it was you...you did...THAT?" His entire face turned bright red. "Was it...you know..."

"Are you sure you want me to answer that question?" the Condor asked daringly.

Ken's shaggy mane flew in all directions as he briskly shook his head.

Although amused by his friend's discomfiture, Joe mercifully decided to switch topics. His gray eyes fell upon the bouquet. "Are those for me?"

Ken welcomed the distraction. Picking up the flowers, he went to get a tall glass from the kitchen counter. Chatting amiably, he explained, "I thought you might be sick. I figured you might like them."

"Actually, I do," Joe admitted with a pleased sigh. "In fact, I like daisies more than roses."

Through heavy-lidded eyes, he watched with undisguised fascination as his flustered best friend arranged the flowers in its makeshift vase. It did not take long for the Eagle to notice the Condor's intense scrutiny.

Blushing hotly, Ken stammered, "You're going to catch pneumonia like that. Let me get you a blanket."

When the Eagle hastened into the bedroom, somehow, it did not surprise Joe when his other self spoke up.

//"Well? Didn't THAT make you want to try out the REAL thing?"//

"Oh, shut up! I'm not ready for that yet!"

A frowning Ken popped through the door with blanket in tow. "Did you say something, Joe?"

"Who? Me?" Joe tried to look innocent. "I was as quiet as a mouse."

The Eagle gave the indolent young man on the couch a glare of mild exasperation. He then unfurled the blanket, letting it billow down on Joe's naked form.

"You know what, Joe?" he began, pulling the blanket up to his best friend's chin. "You are..."

"Let me guess. Horny, right?" the Condor giggled softly, although sleep was slowly claiming him once more.

Ken paused for a moment, and then gave his friend a lopsided grin. "Not really. I was going to say that you are a most sensual creature, Joe Asakura."

"Sensual, huh?" Joe tested the word on his tongue, a sweet smile curling up his lips as his eyelids fluttered shut. "I like that."

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