The Broken Bed


Alex heard a loud crash coming from the upper floor of their ranch house as he walked inside from the front door. Quickly grabbing a knife from the kitchen, Alex sprinted up the stairs ready to defend his mate, to the death if necessary.

"Walter?" Alex called out quietly getting only a groan in response.

All of Alexís training and killerís instincts kicked in as he approached their bedroom. He could hear moaning and then muffled cursing. Fearing the worst, Alex sprang into the room looking for an intruder and ready to strike him down.

"Walter?" Alex asked as he quickly scanned the room determining that they were quite alone. "Walter, what happened?"

Walter was tangled up in the middle of their California King bed. The middle of the bed had collapsed inward almost folding in half and trapping Walter like a venus fly trap plant.

"Are you all right?" Alex asked setting the knife down on a dresser then carefully approaching the bed to help his trapped lover who was doing a good impression of an overturned turtle.  "Walter, lay still! Youíre getting yourself more tangled," Alex pleaded.

With a frustrated sigh, Walter stopped moving.

Alex positioned himself at the foot of the bed. "Walter, relax and straighten out your legs for me." When Walter did as bid, Alex could easily reach Walterís ankles. Planting his feet firmly on the floor and using the footboard for leverage, Alex took hold of Walter's ankles and pulled.

Within moments, Walter was at the edge of the bed then standing upright and in his loverís strong arms.

"Thank you," Walter said when he caught his breath.

"What happened?"

"I was stripping the bed to do the laundry when it suddenly collapsed. I felt smothered under the sheets and blanket. I guess I panicked," Walter was embarrassed to admit, if the blush to his cheeks were any indication.

"I think Iíd panic too if my bed suddenly decided to attack me. But what I donít understand is how this happened. The bed seems so solid to me," Alex said as he caressed the polished footboard.

"Both the headboard and footboard are solid pine and I used treated wood. It should last for a hundred years.  But I used scrap pieces for the slats. I guess I didnít scrutinize them as well as I should of. Help me with the mattress."

Working in concert the men shifted the heavy thick mattress and box spring to expose the wooden slats that lay beneath.

"Damn!" Walter grumbled.


"No, woodworm. Old woodworm, long gone but the damage was done and our, um, activities aggravated the situation."

"So what do we do about it?"

"The laundry still needs to be done and I have to replace these slats," Walter explained.

"Then I guess we both have work to be done."

Each man attended to their tasks so by the end of the day their bed and bedroom was again a safe and comfortable haven.

"What were you going to do with that?" Walter asked indicating the long kitchen knife still on the dresser. The lovers had stripped, showered together and were now getting ready for bed.

"Sorry, I forgot to bring it back downstairs."

"The morningís good enough. But what were you going to do with it?"

"Defend your honor."

"From a bed?"

"How was I supposed to know that my big bad FBI man could be thwarted by a bed," Alex said with mirth as he caressed his big bad FBI manís hairy chest. His skillful fingers were slowly creeping southward toward another big bad part of his FBI man.

"Thank god it was only the bed. Iíd hate to think what damage you could do with that knife."

"Certainly more than woodworm."

"You certainly wormed your way into me, weapons and all."

"Think Iíll pass the test of time better than those old slats?" Alex asked as he nibbled on Walterís earlobe and tugged on Walterís cock. Walterís big bad part responded appropriately.

"I havenít broken you yet," Walter murmured as he captured Alexís lips. "But itís sure fun trying."

"Yeah," Alex agreed.

The groaning that emanated from the bedroom required no defense at all.

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