Coming Together With Pride

by Alessia Brio, J Buchanan, Lisabet Sarai

  Brice smirked. “I don't care.” He leaned in and pressed their cheeks together. Brice's eyelashes fluttered against Matt's skin. Brice's voice dropped and firmed. “You're going to take it, even if you come in your pants. Got that?"

  Matt hissed, “Yes, sir."

  Come in his pants from nipple play? He wished he could do that. That would be a most enjoyable experience, but as it was, he was stuck with desire burning in his blood, an achingly hard dick, and traitorous fucking pants!

  Brice continued his attentions, seemingly relishing in Matt's squirms and moans. Matt's nipples turned from dark pink to red, growing darker with each rotation of the burlap. By the time Brice withdrew his touch, Matt was wholeheartedly moaning and had dropped the mesh from between his teeth.

  "Thank me, Matt."

  "Tha...” Matt's head spun and he couldn't capture his breath. First his pants and now his voice? Could he keep control over anything?

  Brice brushed the tops of his fingernails against Matt's cheek. “Shh, take your time."

  Matt closed his eyes and turned toward Brice's touch. He felt his fever drop and his breath calm. He kissed the inside of his customer's wrist and whispered, “Thank you, sir."

  Brice ticked his gaze toward Matt's bulge. Out of curiosity, Matt looked down and saw the outline of his cock in the denim. It throbbed, refreshing the ache between Matt's legs.

  Brice whispered, “You didn't...” He sounded a bit disappointed, though more toward himself than Matt, and moved the burlap toward Matt's chest.

  Matt grabbed Brice's wrists. “Please, no.” The mesh completely fell into his lap. Toward the end, the burlap started to get painful, and Matt was confident he couldn't take anymore and still find it pleasurable. How the hell was he going to finish his shift this sensitive?

  Brice hiked an eyebrow and softened his voice. “No, really?"

  "No, really."

  Brice smiled. “Then ‘no’ it is.” He freed a hand and started opening Matt's jeans. “I can't very well leave you like this."

  Matt shifted his hips and helped work his pants off. He put them on the seat near his shirt. Finally! He was going to get some relief from the ache between his legs.

  Brice's hand hovered over Matt's cock. Precum glistened in the slit. “You're already weeping."

  Matt smiled. “You're that good, sir."

  Brice shifted the burlap over his hand.

  Oh, holy hell! His eyes grew wide when the burlap closed around his cock. The scratchy material made him wince. Having the burlap rubbing his nipples was one thing, this was too much.

  Brice gently stroked. “Feel that, Matt?” He slipped one hand behind him and blindly felt for his bag.

  Matt nodded and wished he couldn't. He sputtered, “It hurts, sir."

  "Oh, it does?"

  Tiny pinches traveled along Matt's cock. “Yes, sir.” He tried to fight it, but the material made him jump and twitch.

  "Does it hurt a lot?"

  Matt nodded. “Enough to endanger my...” He glanced down.

  "Oh, not the way I'd hoped to help it go down.” Brice replied with a bit of mock sympathy. “Pity that you have to experience such a thing in order to truly enjoy this.” He whipped a piece of satin from behind his back and quickly replaced the burlap.

  Matt's mouth flew open and his head tilted back. The coolness of the fabric sent shivers down his spine and the smoothness made him melt in his skin. The contrast between the burlap and satin clashed in his mind. He started thrusting his hips, meeting Brice's strokes.

  Brice brushed his lips against Matt's earlobe. “Is that good?"

  Matt moaned in agreement.

  "Then thank me."

  Matt squeezed his eyes closed and felt his shoulders relax into the seat. “Thank you, sir."

  "May I go further, Matt?” Brice offered Matt's cock one more long squeeze before stopping the strokes.

  Matt's voice cracked when the pleasure stopped. He regained his bearings and nodded. “If you don't, I'll be forced to do it alone."

  "We can't have you do it alone.” Brice smiled and draped the burlap and mesh over the papers on the table. “Do you prefer to top or bottom, Matt?"

  "I'm versatile, sir."

  "That's lovely.” Mischievously grinning, Brice patted the cloth-covered table. “On your back, please."

  Before shifting onto the table, Matt pulled a condom and a tube of lube from his pants.

  "I recognize this brand.” Brice turned the condom over in his hand. “Mikki must have given you these."

  Matt settled on the table. “Yes, sir.” The burlap pressed against his back and his hips slid against the mesh. How did Brice know Mikki's condoms? “I thought Mikki said you were conversation and coffee only."

  "For him, I was.” Brice smiled. “I don't respond well to someone tossing a condom on a table and asking me if I want to fuck."

  "You've got to be kidding me.” Matt chuckled.

  Brice sighed and shifted so he could kneel between Matt's knees. “I suspect my coffee love affair made him jealous.” He dropped his pants and unrolled the condom down his cock. “I'll assume this isn't your first time."

  "Do you want it to be?"

  "I want the truth."

  "No, it's not.” Matt smirked. “Like I said: I'm versatile."

  "Has it been a while?"

  "Not long enough to need a whole lot of prep."

  Brice grinned. Apparently, that's what he wanted to know. He coated his cock with lube and dropped the satin over Matt's hips. He hooked one arm under one of Matt's knees and used his other hand to guide his cock to Matt's ass. “Ready?"

  "Yes, sir."

  Brice shifted his hips.

  Matt squeezed his eyes closed and pushed his head against the burlap-covered papers. His body seemed to resist Brice's touch for a moment. Matt focused on relaxing and urging his body to accept what his mind craved. Finally, his body yielded to Brice's cock, and Matt cried out. The stretch of penetration reverberated through his hips.

  Brice knitted his brow and moaned. “I should have prepped you."

  "I'm fine.” Matt's muscles twitched around Brice, simultaneously trying to adjust and coax him deeper. “Damn, you feel good.” Hooking his free hand under Matt's leg and placing the soles of Matt's feet against his chest, Brice leaned forward a bit and wrapped the satin over Matt's shins. Matt fisted the mesh by his hips. Brice rubbed the satin over Matt's shins and feet in time with the movement of his hips.

  Brice's strokes looked shallow, but in this position, Matt's muscles gripped his cock, making each stroke feel incredibly deep. The tightness also forced Brice's entire length against Matt's prostate. Pleasure rippled inside him. He wanted to buck against Brice and take his customer deeper, but he couldn't find the leverage.

  Brice slipped a hand between them and pressed two fingers against Matt's satin-covered arousal. He couldn't reach enough of Matt's cock to give it a full fist stroke, but he rubbed what he could touch. “Maybe I can feel better."

  The additional sensation against his dick sent Matt into a frenzy of moans. His head whipped from side to side. He couldn't move. He couldn't buck back. He couldn't twist or anything. Damn it! He wanted his back off the scratchy burlap, but all he could do was lie there and take it. The burlap poked at his back and made the smoothness of the mesh under his hips and the satin over his cock and shins all the more pleasurable. Somewhere in the mixture of primal noises that flew from him, he felt his orgasm start to build.

  Brice had fallen into a comfortable rhythm. It almost felt arrogant. Almost as if Brice took joy in making Matt lose his damn mind while keeping himself collected.

  Every time Matt took a breath or tried to move, he could feel his body milk Brice's cock. His toes tightened against Brice's chest, and his thighs started to shake. Pulses of increasing pressure gripped his cock with every stroke. His jaw clenched and tendons strained in his neck. Matt yelled when the pressure finally burst, and pleasure ricocheted around inside him as he ca
me.

  Below Brice, Matt danced a most delicious erotic dance. Brice moaned with every clench, quiver, and twitch from Matt's body. With a strained groan, Brice slumped forward and released himself.

  Matt's legs dropped to either side of Brice's body and cream-colored satin spilled between the two men.

  Brice twitched and panted against Matt's chest. He kissed his way up Matt's body and brushed his lips. Closing his eyes, Brice tenderly kissed Matt.

  Sighing into the kiss, Matt felt his body go limp. His lips, tingling and numb, muted the kiss, but the tongue flicking around his wouldn't let that stop anything. His arms flopped to the table and he no longer cared about the burlap against his back.

  * * * *

  Mikki stared at the podium. The light for Mr. Camden's room finally went red, blinked for a bit, and then went out. “About damn time!” They'd been in there for hours! It doesn't take that long to drink coffee. Shit.

  Fully dressed, Mr. Camden made his way down the hallway to the lobby. He smiled at Mikki. “I'm taking him out."

  Mikki felt the blood leave his face. “What?” He knew he didn't just hear that.

  Mr. Camden repeated himself. “Matt, I mean, Foxx. I'm taking him out."

  Mikki shook his head. “No, this is his first day. He's—"

  Mr. Camden hushed Mikki with a wave of his hand. “I don't care. I'm taking him out."

  The senior lobby host nodded and glared at Mikki before smiling at Mr. Camden. “I assume you know the cost."

  "Yes, I do.” Mr. Camden reached for his wallet. “One and a half million, right?"

  The other lobby host nodded and accepted Mr. Camden's credit card. “And you know this isn't slavery. Once you pay his out, we cannot guarantee that he'll stay with you."

  Brice smiled. “I think he'll stay, but it is his choice."

  Mikki dashed down the hallway. Bullshit! Pure, unadulterated bullshit!

  * * * *

  The booth door opened and Foxx weakly waved at Mikki. He tried to figure out how to work the buttons on his shirt. He knew the little plastic thingies went through the hole, but they didn't want to behave.

  "What the hell, Foxx!"

  Foxx smirked. “He likes fabric.” He gave up on the obstinate buttons and leaned on the table. “Did you ever ask him about his work?"

  Mikki shook his head. “Fabric? Work? No, is he a fashion designer or something?"

  Foxx laughed. “That's what I thought, too.” He brushed the suggestion aside with his hand. “No. That's the best part. He's a patent engineer with a fabric fetish!"

  Mikki crossed his arms over his chest. “Get dressed. You're getting an out."

  "An out?” Foxx raised his eyebrows. “No, kidding? Brice is getting me an out?” Was Mikki pouting? Aww, look at that bottom lip—Mikki wasn't even cute when he pouted. Did the hair dye, eyeliner, padded bulge, and whatever else Mikki did for fantasy never earn him an out? Foxx found it difficult to feel sorry for the man who was probably no longer real with himself. Sincerity covered a lot of mileage on the road of life.

  "Yes.” Mikki nodded his head. “You don't have to stay with him. It's your choice. But once you have an out, you can't work here again."

  "Don't have to stay with him? Are you crazy?” Foxx ripped off his name tag and slapped it on the table. The man known as Foxx was once again named Matthew. He scrambled over the table and barreled past Mikki. While he ran down the hallway, he screamed for Brice, meeting up with him in the lobby.

  Brice smiled at Matt and extended his hand.

  Matt took Brice's hand. “One thing: call me Matthew, please."

  "Matthew it is."

  Not only had Matthew Fox just become a millionaire, but he also picked up a great lover and reclaimed his name. Losing his job never felt so good.

  * * * *

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  Western Pleasure

  © Shanna Germain

  I'd been looking, not looking, for Gina all morning. Thought I caught the shimmer of her blonde braid near the fence line while I was trying to guide Sage up to the mailbox in the trail class. But Sage was tossing his head and snorting at the mailbox like he'd never seen one before. By the time I got his fat ass close enough that I could reach in and grab the paper out of the box, the plait of hair was gone.

  By 4:30, when the fun classes were about to start, I still hadn't seen Gina. I was worried that maybe she hadn't come this year. Ten years straight we'd been meeting at this show. Never missed a one. I wondered if I should call her to make sure she was okay. Realized I didn't even have her home number.

  Sage was rolling the bit in his mouth by that time, and I could tell from the way his hip jutted into my thigh that he had that back foot cocked. Either my low energy was getting to him, or he was tuckered out. I leaned over his sweaty neck, ran my fingers under his short grey mane.

  "That's alright, boy,” I said. “We'll skip sit-a-buck and call it a night."

  I felt the horse next to me before I saw it: a shadow, a huff of air, Sage's neck cresting beneath my cheek. Gina's voice sang across to my closed eyelids.

  "Why? You afraid Darlin’ and I might kick your ass back to Montana?"

  I slid up from Sage's neck. My heart thundered at the sight of Gina, blonde hair in double-braids, sky blue eyes, lips like a red apple split in two.

  "Where in the hell have you been?” I asked.

  I could barely keep from leaning over and taking her into my arms. Last time I'd seen her, she'd been naked, ass up, in my trailer, my hand making marks against that pale, pale skin, branding her until she'd cried just a little. Thinking about it made my stomach drop between my legs.

  Gina put her big teeth over her bottom lip. She shook her head.

  "Don't ask,” she said. “We've had one of those summers."

  She pointed down at Darlin's head, like the horse was a two-year-old who'd been throwing temper tantrums all day. Gina looked down at the reins in her hand and fiddled with the leather. “I think this is my last time here,” she said. “It's a long way to come for a small show."

  I didn't know what to say to that. We'd been meeting at this show for nearly a decade, laying our bodies down together. It didn't matter what was happening at home, who was dating who, or what else was going on in our lives.

  Gina bobbed her head toward the ring and broke those red lips into a smile. “So, we doing this, or what?” she said.

  "Hell, yeah,” I said. I didn't want to think about her not coming back next year.

  Darlin’ pranced a little beneath Gina, ready to move on. “Good,” Gina said. “Then prepare to get your ass kicked, sister."

  I wrinkled my nose at Gina and settled my butt a little lower into Sage's bare back. “I doubt that,” I said.

  For the sit-a-buck class, you ride bareback. Just a fiver tucked between your thigh and your horse. And this particular sit-a-buck class always drew a crowd—it was a jackpot class, meaning if you could keep that bill under your leg, you got to keep the pot. And with the five dollar bills being a solid raise from the normal buck-a-pony, it was usually the fullest class of the show.

  I had no worries, even with all that extra competition. Sage was steady as a tabletop, and about as wide—bills stuck to his back like a magnet. Darlin', on the other hand, was a dumb-as-they-come mare who had a reputation for being skittish around anything that shook, rattled, or wiggled faster than a fence post. Damn beautiful animal. Her coat was so shiny red in the sun that she looked more Corvette than horse. She had that fine Arab head, too, soft-as-satin muzzle and those big black eyes with eyelashes most women'd kill for.

  But beauty's nothing if you don't have the brains to go with it. Last year, Darlin’ tried to take Gina's leg off on a cloverleaf barrel after one of the judges snapped her gum on the sidelines. Gina's knee got all bloodied up from the lip of the barrel. I could have killed that damn horse.

  But Gina was loyal if nothing else, and she believed in the
good in things, including skittish horses, growling dogs, and hard-assed women.

  "You're the one going down,” I said.

  The truth is, we didn't care who won. We weren't really there for the show. We were there for each other. Not that we'd ever admit it.

  Gina gave a grin, that wide smile I'd fallen in love with the first time I saw her.

  Darlin’ spooked at something and tried to crabwalk into the horse in front of her. Watching Gina's ass in jeans work against Darlin's bare back was killing me. I couldn't tell if it was Sage's wetness seeping into my jeans or the other way around.

  I let Sage's reins drop. Showing off his temperament. The way he'd stand still for hours just because I asked him to. “What's the matter?” I asked. “Get spooked by her own leg again?"

  Gina twisted her lips sideways. She gave Darlin’ a little pat on her prancing shoulder. “Won't say she's the first woman who's gotten spooked by her own leg,” she said, looking right at me.

  I gave Sage a soft kick, to get him in position. I didn't have anything to say to that.

  I leaned over and tucked my five under my thigh. When Gina and I first started riding this class, it was only a buck, like most of them. If you won, and you were lucky, you might bring home a whopping ten dollars. The first year, Gina won, and she bought a bottle of Boone's and some crackers. She had me naked before we'd even opened the crackers.

  The first time she took my nipple between her big teeth and twisted, I could feel the shock waves all through my body. Just that mouth on my nipple. She didn't have to touch me anywhere else. She made me beg and beg until, finally, I had to bring my own hand down when I couldn't stand not being touched anymore. She'd sat back and watched the whole thing. It was the first time I'd ever done that with someone else's eyes on me.

  I've won the sit-a-buck pretty much every year since and still buy that bottle of Boone's. Although we never open it now. We always leave it in the barn for some groom to help himself to after we're gone.

  This year, the stakes were higher. Five bucks a pop meant seventy-five bucks for ten minutes worth of riding. That was something worth working for. You could buy a girl dinner with that. Or a shitty hotel room.