by A. R. Moler
“Enh, maybe not the rubber per se, but you fill it out very well. I could eat you up.”
“Do I really want to know where your thoughts are headed?”
“I don’t have the fangs in this time around,” Brian teased.
“No, you have inch thick latex and makeup on the right side of your face.”
“Rubber cleans up pretty easily.”
“Brian…”
“The street is deserted. It’s night time. You don’t have to get naked, just tip the seat back, and push the leggings down a way.” Brian reached across and rubbed his hand down over Tristan’s crotch.
Tristan huffed out a low groan.
Brian leaned in and kissed Tristan. It started out soft and sweet but soon changed to a hungry open mouth skirmish of teeth and tongues. When they parted for breath, Brian was hard enough to feel distinctly uncomfortable. “I want you,” he whispered.
“The things I let you get me into.” Tristan tilted the driver’s seat back and had to squirm a fair bit to get the lower part of the costume down past his hips.
“Pull the mask on,” said Brian.
“What? Why?”
“My fantasy, your pleasure.”
Tristan let out a low growl of frustration then bent his head forward and pulled the hooded mask down over his face. Now only the lower half of his face was visible. Brian kissed him again. Mmm, that mouth. He nipped at Tristan’s full lower lip as he reached down and fondled his lover’s exposed cock. Tristan was only about half stiff. Brian knew Tris was always a little disconcerted by the semi-public places that he found so arousing. A few strokes of Brian’s hand got Tristan a whole lot more turned on, and Brian bent to take Tristan in his mouth.
The steering wheel made the angle rather awkward. Brian licked up the length of Tristan’s cock, dragging his tongue slowly across the tip. He glanced up at Tristan’s face. Teeth clenched, lips parted, eyes closed and the rest of his face hidden by the mask…oh hell that was an image to savor forever. He opened his mouth and went down on his partner, thoroughly relishing the low moans and whines of pleasure produced.
“Oh…Bri…close…” Tristan’s words were little more than fragmented sounds. Tristan writhed beneath Brian’s gentle assault for a few more seconds before unloading into Brian’s mouth. Brian wiped his mouth on his jacket sleeve, the tattered and scorched side. It wouldn’t show.
“I think you got grease paint on my dick,” Tristan snickered.
“Unless you’re planning on displaying it for someone else, I don’t think anyone will notice,” teased Brian.
Tristan made a low growling sound, arched his back, and lifted his butt enough to manage to hitch his leggings back up into place. He reached over and fisted a hand in the front of Brian’s shirt. “Your turn.” His voice was a low husky murmur. He tried to twist enough to lower his head toward Brian’s crotch but between the stiffness of the costume and the steering wheel, it was impossible. “Get in the back seat,” he ordered and wrenched his own seat into an upright position.
It took Brian a moment to scramble out of the passenger door and pull open the one behind it. He slid in and pulled it shut. Tristan pushed him down to lay slouched into the corner, gloved hands unzipping Brian’s fly, as Tristan half crouched in the narrow confines of the space. The gloves slowed Tristan’s actions and he started to strip them off. “Don’t,” said Brian and gripped one of Tristan’s hands. “I’ll do it.” Brian unzipped the rest of the way and shoved his slacks down to his thighs, along with his boxers.
The feel of the rubberized glove on his cock made Brian gasp.
“You okay?” Tristan asked, immediately stopping his stroke up Brian’s prick.
“Uh-huh, it’s fine. K-keep going,” Brian begged.
“Don’t let me hurt you. With these gloves on, I can’t tell exactly how much pressure I’m using. Are you sure you don’t want me to take them off?”
“Leave ‘em on.”
As Tristan began to suck, Brian could feel the edge of the mask rubbing against his lower belly. It was an oddly erotic sensation. And then there were the ears…Brian couldn’t resist. He closed his hands loosely around the stiff pointed ears on the top of the mask, and he giggled.
“Bri’?” Tristan paused.
“Oh God, holy blowjobs, Batman.”
“You are a kinky fuck sometimes, you know.” Tristan licked up the length of Brian’s cock.
Brian groaned. “Oh damn, this gives a whole new meaning to how to hold your licker.”
Tristan tongued the slit. “Say what?”
Brian giggled again; it was just too apropos. “Come on, Tris, that one’s older than dirt. How do the French hold their ‘liquor’? By the ears.” He waggled the ear points of the mask with his fingers.
“You are just plain crazy.” Tristan dipped his head and licked Brian’s balls, then stroked him in firm pulls as he began to suck again.
It was all Brian could do not to gag Tristan by thrusting up into his mouth. Oh hell, he was so close. He pressed clenched fists against the seat, and gave in, coming hard, head thunking back against the door.
Gasping to catch his breath, Brian let his body go limp for a few moments. Wow, just wow.
Tristan carefully stretched out on top of Brian, kissing him. “I hope you didn’t tell Alicia we were showing up at the party at any particular time.”
“Uh, no.” Brian was still struggling to pull his brain cells back on line.
“Good. Need help?”
Brian giggled. “I’m gonna need you to get off me if you want me to be able to zip up.”
* * * *
When Tristan and Brian arrived at Alicia’s house, the party was going full swing and crowds of costumed guests filled the rooms. Per usual, Brian seemed to know a large portion of the people, and spent a while chatting. Tristan did his best to join in on the small talk with strangers, knowing that Brian’s extroverted personality thrived in such an atmosphere.
“Brian! Your makeup is awesome,” squealed Alicia, as she came toward them.
“Thank you. The appliances were a serious pain but I think they turned out well.”
She gave him a hug, both arms wrapped around his neck. “Follow me. I have a surprise for you and Tristan.” Alicia all but dragged Brian in the direction of the dining room. Tristan followed.
Near the center of the huge table in the room, there was an empty spot, and Alicia’s husband Mike was just setting a large rectangular cake down. When he was done, Mike stuck two fingers in his mouth and gave a sharp, nearly ear piercing whistle. The noise in the room quieted to a murmur.
“Come on, come on. Over here by the table,” said Alicia.
Brian pulled Tristan along, obeying Alicia’s request. Tristan was shocked to see the writing on the cake- Brian & Tristan—outlined by a heart in bright orange icing.
“Last year Brian and Tristan met at this party. Next month they’re getting married. Brian refused to let me throw them an engagement party, so this is the best I could come up with.” Alicia poked Brian playfully in the arm. Brian stuck his tongue out at Alicia and she laughed. “So, here’s to a lifetime of love and happiness. Congratulations, Brian and Tristan.”
There was a round of clapping and cheering.
Someone yelled. “Unmask the Batman. We wanna see who you’re getting hitched to.”
Tristan met Brian’s gaze. “Did you know?”
“Hell no. I’ll get her back next week at work.” Brian reached up and made a gesture as if to ease Tristan’s cowled mask off. “Can I?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Brian carefully pulled the mask off, letting it hang down the back of Tristan’s shoulders. For a moment, Tristan tensed, feeling awkward and embarrassed to be the center of attention.
“I love you,” Brian murmured and drew Tristan into a long, sensuous kiss. Tristan’s breath hitched and then he allowed himself to relax. It was probably not a bad thing that he and Brian had gotten up to mischief in the car because the wa
y Brian was ravaging his mouth was revving his engine. There were hoots and cat calls.
When Brian was finally done, Tristan felt dazed and slightly oxygen deprived.
The next hour was filled with hugs and back slaps and good wishes from the party guests. Tristan was amazed and touched by the outpouring of happy sentiments, and to be honest, a little overwhelmed. Eventually, Brian bid everyone good bye and the two of them walked back in the direction of the car. Tristan took Brian’s hand in his.
“We could have stayed longer if you wanted,” said Tristan.
“It’s okay. You’ve kind of got the deer in the headlights look.”
“I never expected…”
“Yeah, I think Alicia took great delight in springing that on us,” said Brian.
“It was…really nice. I hadn’t realized anyone beyond a few close friends would even care, much less offer us that kind of congratulations.”
“Friends are the family you would have chosen if you had the chance. Remember that a few of those people are going to be at the wedding, too.” Brian reminded him.
Tristan smiled and stopped walking. Brian turned to face him. God, the makeup made him look like a horror movie victim on one side, and somehow that amused Tristan. “And then you and I will be family, legal and forever, ‘til death do us part.”
““You know that your family’s approval is ear-relevant to our happiness.” He flicked the pointed ear on the cowl hanging down Tristan’s back.
Tristan groaned.
“Have I gone Way-ne too far?”
“That was painful.”
“I could be “Robin” you and that would hurt worse. And I should know.”
Tristan winced. Tristan grabbed Brian and placed an aggressive kiss on his mouth to shut him up. Finally, he said, “Done?”
Brian smirked. “If you insist.”
* * * *
Peeling latex out of his left eyebrow was a pain, pretty literally. Brian stood in front of the mirror in the master bathroom with rubbing alcohol and cold cream, slowly removing the heavy makeup from his face. The cheap suit he’d taken great pleasure in mutilating half of lay in a pile on the floor. He hadn’t decided if he’d keep it for future use. He wore only his boxers at this point.
His cell phone lay on the corner of the counter. When it rang, he had to wipe his hand on a towel in order to answer it. “Hi, Mom.” He put it on speaker so he could continue with his clean up.
“Having a quiet weekend, honey?”
“No, not really. Tristan and I just got back from a Halloween party. Why are you calling me at eleven thirty? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine. I wondered if the two of you had ordered flowers for the wedding? Since it’s not very close to where you live, I thought there might be problems.”
“We have it handled, Mom. I got Alicia to help me. Everything is scheduled to be delivered to the venue that morning. The only thing I have left to do about that is call the staff and make sure someone will be able to sign for them if we haven’t gotten there yet. You could have texted me.”
“Probably. It’s just not my first thought,” his mother admitted. “Did you dress up for the party?”
“You raised me. What do you think?” Brian said with a chuckle.
“How much time did you spend getting it ready?”
“A few days.”
“Makeup?”
“Yes, both latex and grease paint. You caught me in the middle of taking it off.”
“Did Tristan go in costume?”
“Yeah, I rented him one.”
“He seems so reserved. Are we still on for having dinner next weekend?”
“As long as Tristan’s schedule cooperates,” Brian said.
Tristan came into the bathroom. “I heard the word schedule tied to my name.”
“Hello, Tristan,” Brian’s mother called out.
“Hello, Cathy,” Tristan said. “I did request next Sunday night off, but sometimes I get dragged into a case anyway.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Hopefully things will work out well. I’ll call you when we leave that morning,” Cathy said.
“Okay, bye. See you then,” Brian responded and poked the button to end the call with a pinky, since his other fingers were greasy.
Tristan leaned against the door frame and watched Brian finish with the makeup removal. “Your mother always seems to be in a good mood.”
“You know she wouldn’t mind if you called her Mom, too.”
Tristan gave him a lopsided smile. “That word carries a lot of baggage in my life.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Brian put a fingertip against Tristan’s chin. “My parents look at this as gaining an extra kid, that they didn’t have to raise. Dinner with them will be a good thing. I’ll make curry. Pick up naan from Trader Joe’s. We’ll crack open some decent beer and just talk.”
“It definitely sounds more appealing than dinner with my family.”
“This is the start of our own.”
“I’m tired,” Tristan admitted. “Are you done with all the makeup stuff?”
“Give me two minutes to get everything back in the case.”
“Okay. I’ll be in bed.”
True to his word, Brian stashed all the various items and switched off the bathroom light. He crossed the master bedroom and slid into bed beside Tristan. Tristan spooned up against Brian’s back, an arm around Brian’s body. Brian closed his eyes and snuggled back against his soon-to-be husband, enjoying the simple pleasure of being able to sleep in Tristan’s embrace.
THE END
ABOUT A.R. MOLER
A.R. Moler is a chemistry professor at a community college, a homeschooling mom, and an avid science fiction fan. She is a devotee of first hand research for her writing whenever possible and to this end has: learned to fire a handgun, been rappelling, ridden with both EMS and the police, flown a helicopter, bought a motorcycle, and learned to ride it. She has traveled to nearly all the places where her stories are set and taken hundreds of photos for documentation. She has been writing since her high school years, but only recently has become published. For more information, visit armoler.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
