by Haley Walsh
The quilt had fallen away somewhere and Keith was getting busy taking off Skyler’s shirt and slipping a wide hand into his underwear, gripping Skyler’s ass cheek and squeezing roughly.
Skyler moaned at the feeling and soon both hands were in his pants, kneading his butt, fingers dipping into his crack. A finger reached, teased, stroked, and left Skyler gasping. Finally Keith slid the underwear down as Skyler dug his own fingers into the miles of Keith’s hairy chest. He smelled like cedars and pine forest. Must be the lumberjack thing, he mused dreamily. But he also smelled like man and Skyler mashed his face into it, inhaled, and found a nipple to nibble and lav.
Keith groaned, “Oh God, Skyler, babe…” Keith arched his back, shoving his chest into Skyler’s face and Skyler was only too happy to continue to tease and suck on the man’s hard nipple.
Keith writhed and with a firm grip on Skyler’s arms suddenly shoved him down onto the bed beneath him. Looming above, Keith panted, eyes fixed on Skyler’s face. “I’d sure like to fuck you.”
In answer, Skyler kept his own gaze glued to Keith’s and slowly opened his legs, bringing his knees up to his chest. His voice was hoarse when he said, “I’d like that, too.”
Growling, Keith shoved his jeans and underwear away. His dick was hard and quivering, leaking in a long sticky strand to the bed. The head of that dick glistened in the candlelight that was suddenly everywhere.
Keith hefted his cock in his hand and stroked languidly. “Your ass, Skyler. Before I fuck it I want a taste of it.”
“Okay,” Skyler squeaked.
Keith grabbed Skyler’s haunches and dragged him upward, ass first, and took no time to bend down and bury his face into Skyler’s ass, nose in his balls.
“Oh!” Skyler gasped, staring at his own hard cock when his spine curled so abruptly.
Keith used his lips and tongue to lick and suck on Skyler’s hole in ever more growing sensations. That tongue seemed to be everywhere, first licking, then stroking, and then poking in. It was a good thing Keith held him tightly because Skyler was beginning to writhe, shoving his ass up into Keith’s hungry mouth, whimpering at the unrelenting feeling of that tongue on his sensitive flesh. He reached up and stroked his own straining dick. He didn’t care if he came right in his own face.
“Keith! Gonna come.”
Keith stopped and let Skyler’s butt fall to the bed. “Not like that you’re not. Want to be inside you when you come.” And he pushed Skyler’s thighs up, held his dick to aim it, and shoved in deeply.
Skyler didn’t remember getting lube or even getting ready but apparently he was. Keith slammed into him holding so tight to his thighs it hurt, but he couldn’t drag up enough interest to complain. His concentration lay elsewhere, with the pounding in his ass and the warm hand that had suddenly encircled his dick.
The sensations ached his balls, feathering up his body in tingles. That cock of Keith’s slid in perfectly. “Right there, right there!”
Keith gave a feral grin and commenced fucking Skyler in earnest. He shoved in hard and deep, pulling out in shallow bursts. He made sure to thrust over that spot inside that made Skyler whimper.
That large hand pulled and stroked on Skyler’s cock with determination. Sensation was coming at him from all angles.
Keith pounded him harder and harder, grunting with each plunge inward. His balls spanked against Skyler’s ass. “Gonna—” Grunt. “Come!” he announced. And then he was, a staccato gasp releasing with each shudder of his hips. This went on for almost a minute until he released one long gasp and collapsed on top of Skyler. But by then, Skyler was coming, too, his ass squeezing down so tightly on Keith’s cock that Keith gave a squeak as he was milked one more time.
Keith’s wet hand released him and he panted into Keith’s shoulder, savoring the man’s weight on top of him.
Dreamy kisses peppered all over his shoulder and neck, and Keith finally pulled out of him with a sloppy wet slurp, and he rolled to lie beside him on his back. Skyler’s ass squelched from those generous squirts of jizz and he wriggled, relishing the sensation of being filled and having it dribble from him.
Breathing for a long moment Skyler just stared up into the cabin’s rafters in silence.
A hand found his and intertwined sticky fingers. “Damn,” he said when he got his breath back.
“Yeah,” said Keith, chest heaving, hair shining with sweat.
And here they were, snowed in with the power out. How would they ever pass the time?
Suddenly, Jamie popped up from the blanket between them, knocking them apart.
“Jamie?” cried Skyler. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Jamie looked from Skyler to Keith and back again. “I don’t know. It’s your dream, not mine.”
***
Skyler shot up in bed, sleep falling away. He looked around their darkened room back in Redlands and realized he had been dreaming. He glanced toward his bed partner, his dark head tucked deep into the pillow. Keith was snoring softly. Skyler sighed. He leaned over and couldn’t resist kissing the man’s temple.
The snoring stopped and he felt slightly guilty at waking him.
Blinking, Keith squinted up at Skyler. “Are you waking me up for sex?”
Skyler bit his lip and eased his hand over the man’s flank, rubbing up and down. “Are you interested in sex?”
“With you? Always.” He turned over and encircled Skyler in his arms. He pressed a kiss to his lips and then looked tenderly at his boyfriend.
Skyler reached up and ran his hand over Keith’s beard stubble. “Have you ever thought of growing a full beard?”
Keith’s brows rose. “I don’t know. Do you want me to?”
Skyler shrugged. “Not sure. But I think it might be sexy. Well, anything you did or did not do would still be very sexy.”
“Are you sure you’re fully awake?”
Skyler chuckled. “Does it matter?”
Keith nuzzled his neck. “Not really.”
Skyler hunkered down and sighed, throwing his head back to give Keith all the access he wanted. Who needed a mountain cabin when he had his man?
NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRRING
PHILIP TURNED OFF THE LIGHT IN The Bean and looked back over the darkened interior of his coffee house. The aroma of coffee still lingered, was probably embedded into the very walls. He was proud of his shop, happy and satisfied that he was in the very place he was meant to be.
The garlands of greenery hung in artful swags over the glass display case and up around the windows and door. He left their colorful lights on because they looked so cheerful in the dark…and might also discourage any break-ins. His friends Skyler, Keith, and Jamie had come over to help one afternoon to give it its holiday cheer. His Jamaican barista Cashmere Funk had added his own décor, with a few plastic palm trees, peace signs, and pictures of Haile Selassie here and there. He said it wasn’t Christmas unless the savior of Ethiopia was looking down at him.
Philip turned to go to the door when something caught his eye. A light was on in the back room and he was certain he’d turned it off. Sighing, he put down his canvas totes full of binders of his accounting books and vender catalogs, and trudged back behind the counter. He pushed open the swinging door and reached in to flip the switch when he saw the naked man lying prone on the work table.
He was tan and sleek-muscled and his rounded backside was facing closest to Philip, both firm squeezable globes of it. Philip’s mouth hung open in equal parts astonishment and a sudden urgent surge of lust.
The man raised his head and gazed over his shoulder with sultry eyes. It was Antonio Banderas! Albeit a slightly younger version—the Madonna Evita version, thought Philip—but the man all the same. A slow smile raised one side of Antonio’s mouth.
“I understand,” he said, Spanish accent purring off the deep voice, “that your coffee here is particularly…hot.”
Blinking madly, Philip still had no voice and couldn’t quite close his mouth.
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br /> The man slid forward with sinewy grace, moving his ass upward first and then elegantly winding one leg over the other until he had turned around, dangling his legs over the side of the table. His generous cock was hard and jutting up from his lap. He motioned toward Philip. “I think you should come over here.”
Philip shook off his stupor. “You do?” he asked incredulously.
Antonio nodded. “Yes.” He crooked his finger and as if Philip were connected to it by an invisible thread, he walked slowly forward until he was only a foot away. Antonio opened his legs and drew Philip in the rest of the way trailing his hands up his chest and finally resting his wrists over his shoulders. “I’ve heard about you,” he said, voice dark. He angled his face down so he looked up at Philip from under his heavy brows.
“You have?” Philip’s mind whirred a million miles an hour. Why was Antonio Banderas—a very naked and hard Antonio Banderas—here in the backroom of his coffee house…seducing him?
Shut up, said his inner Philip. Shut up for once in your life and don’t overthink this. Just enjoy it, for Christ’s sake.
Antonio gently nudged Philip closer and he threw caution to the wind. If this was some kind of prank he was going to get in one good kiss at least. He closed his eyes and leaned forward and Antonio’s lips brushed his. They nibbled and then sucked hard before planting squarely and pushed open Philip’s lips with the force of the kiss. Philip was sucking on a persistent tongue and moaning as he rode the sensations. The man had grabbed Philip’s hand and guided it to the hardness in his lap. When his fingers came in contact with the hot flesh Philip sputtered and drew up.
“What’s the matter?” Antonio whispered to his lips. God, that voice! So low and dark and sensual. “Don’t you like my dick?”
“Oh, it’s…quite…y-yes.”
“Good. Why don’t you suck it then?”
“Good idea. Excellent idea.”
Philip didn’t hesitate to drop to his knees. He ran his hands over those firm thighs and breathed in the heady, musky scent of the man. I’m kneeling between Antonio Banderas’s thighs, he thought incredulously. And I’m about to suck his cock.
Antonio stretched above him, arms over his head. His torso lengthened and Philip took in every flexing muscle and sinew. “Why do they have to have all these commercials?” said Antonio in that same languid tone of his.
Inches from devouring a truly world-class cock, Philip lifted his head. “What?” he asked.
He looked down at Philip and shook his long hair out of his eyes. “There are so many commercials it’s hard to enjoy the movie.”
“Wha…? What movie?”
“The movie we are watching, minino.”
***
Philip jerked upward from where he had been resting his head and obviously sleeping on Rodolfo’s naked chest. He stared at his boyfriend leaning back against a cluster of squashy pillows enough to make a Pasha envious. He was the spitting image of Antonio Banderas and though his voice wasn’t anywhere as low and as sultry, he did have an Ecuadorian accent—certainly close enough to a Spaniard’s accent in a pinch.
Philip turned to the TV and after the commercial had finished he saw that Evita was playing and Antonio was there singing his heart out and looking at the camera as he had looked at Philip in his dream.
“I don’t see it,” said Rodolfo.
Philip was still coming down from that all-too realistic dream. His dick, however, hadn’t come down from it at all. “Don’t see what?” he said vaguely.
He gestured toward the television. “I don’t think I look like Antonio Banderas at all.”
“Oh honey, believe me, you do.”
He folded his arms tightly over his chest and his chin burled in what Philip recognized as a first-rate sulk.
He sidled closer and kissed Rodolfo’s shoulder. “But I think you’re much better looking.”
That did the trick. Rodolfo’s arms loosened and a smile—one to match any of Antonio’s—lifted one side of his sensual mouth. “You do?”
“Of course I do. Let me show you how much I do.”
He may not be able to suck the real Antonio Bandera’s dick, but he had his own version sitting right here any time he wanted it.
Rodolfo settled himself comfortably against the pillows, lifted the remote, and muted the movie. He looked down at Philip already heading toward his lap. Rodolfo’s eyes were just as sultry, just as dark. “Minino,” he purred. Rodolfo lifted the duvet away and revealed a cock as pleasing and as rigid as any movie star’s.
“Oh Rodolfo. Look what you have for me.” He reached out and stroked the man’s hairy thigh. Rodolfo was older than Philip by at least ten years, possibly more—he wouldn’t say—but he sometimes acted far younger. Yet he was still mighty fit and though they had started out as adversaries it turned out they were much better lovers. In fact, it wasn’t all that long ago that he had told the older man that he loved him and there had been all sorts of love fests since.
Rodolfo was a man prone to jumping to conclusions, being offended by the least unfounded thing, and going into rants with scant provocation. But Philip knew it all covered years’ worth of self-doubt and even a bit of worry at growing older. Yet Rodolfo loved fiercely and he was utterly devoted to Philip in a way that Philip was almost unprepared for, but found, to his surprise and delight, that he seemed to suddenly crave.
Philip knew he wasn’t the most demonstrative of individuals. He spent years keeping his emotions in check. But Rodolfo seemed to bring out the romantic in him and he found himself catering to his sexy and demanding boyfriend in ways he wouldn’t have been comfortable with before.
Rubbing Rodolfo’s thighs and kissing them, he lay flat on the bed and took the base of the man’s cock in hand. Rodolfo’s eyes were shining with a special light as Philip opened his mouth and took in his boyfriend’s meat. It’s better than Antonio Banderas, he mused, slurping and sucking, grateful for that familiar warm weight on his tongue.
Rodolfo’s calm gave in so quickly. He writhed and moaned and whispered Spanish phrases Philip didn’t understand. His hands trembled over Philip’s shoulders, pinching and squeezing the flesh. Rodolfo was always so expressive. So passionate. There was really no other word for it. It almost didn’t matter what Philip did—stroking that cock in his fist, tonguing it, sucking it, rubbing it over his lips—Rodolfo would react with unrestrained desire, murmuring his love for Philip. And Philip had never had a love like him. It didn’t even bother him anymore that Rodolfo had also been Skyler’s hook-up. Hell, they’d all been. Everyone in Redlands except Sidney, it seemed.
He twirled his tongue around the sensitive head, wriggling his tongue into the slit, tasting the saltiness of his lover’s spunk. He closed his lips on that hot meat and drew his lips tightly up and down with deep suction.
“Minino!” That was all the warning he got before Rodolfo was coming. Philip swallowed it up, working his tongue on the underside of his dick to milk it dry. Rodolfo gave a heartfelt sigh and lay back, completely boneless.
Philip drew off him and sat up, wiping his mouth. He took his own rock hard dick in hand, prepared to quickly take care of it when Rodolfo opened his eyes. “Don’t you dare, Philip. You let me.”
He slithered off the pillows like a panther and slid his arms around Philips hips, squeezing his butt, fingers teasing his crack. He immediately dropped his face to Philip’s lap and sucked in his sensitive dick.
Philip gasped and held onto his boyfriend’s hair, steadying himself under the sensual onslaught. His eyes rolled back at Rodolfo’s expert treatment, mouth sucking, tongue teasing. He was a deep-throat expert and began swallowing more and more of him. It was too much. Too much amazing sensation, and so much love radiating off of him.
Philip came quickly, breathing harshly until the waves of ecstasy rode themselves out like a slow tide. He fell back against the bed and Rodolfo jumped up and gripped him, spinning and spinning them on the mattress until he landed with Philip below him. �
��You are such a sexy man, my Philip!” He kissed him all over, his face, down his neck, over his chest. Philip, still recovering from his orgasm and unable to catch up, said weakly, “Calm down, Rodolfo.”
Rodolfo cocked his head. “Why? Why should I calm down from being in bed with you? You know how it excites me.”
“I know, but…let me catch my breath at least.”
He pouted but he hugged Philip tight anyway. “You are such a wonderful lover. How did I get along without you for so long?”
“You needed to search the world over for the man of your dreams.”
“Yes. You are the man of my dreams.”
“And you’re mine, believe me.”
Rodolfo smiled. Such a winning smile. It made Philip grin back at him. “Man of my dreams,” he said again and reached up to stroke his boyfriend’s handsome face.
THE STOCKINGS WERE HUNG
JAMIE DIDN’T STOP TO WONDER. It somehow didn’t matter that his hair was blond and curly. It wasn’t ordinarily a look he would have chosen but he was willing to go along with it.
The lights of the club swept over him in a multi-colored display. The music wasn’t as loud as he was used to and there weren’t the crowds he expected, but he was dancing and having a good time so what the heck?
A shadow fell over him and he turned around. A big handsome bear with a full ginger beard and bright eyes smiled down at him. “Hey, Goldilocks,” he said.
“And you must be Papa Bear,” he said, dancing closer. He slid his hands up the man’s broad chest. “Mmm mmm. Papa Bear’s got some muscles.”
The man closed his meaty hand over the bulge in the crotch of his jeans. “I got a bigger muscle right here I’d like to introduce you to.”
“Why you silver-tongued devil. What are we waiting for?”
Papa Bear grabbed his arm and tugged him through the dancers toward the exit. Instead of the parking lot he expected, Jamie looked out to green fields and a dense forest made darker by the night. A dirt path led to a cottage right out of Grimm’s fairy tales.
