“When you lower the jeans, kneel.” Jake’s voice had sounded hoarse, as though the thrill of what they were doing proved too much.
Mark knew how that felt all right, and he inhaled a deep breath to calm himself. He wanted to yank the jeans off, crush himself to Jake, and feel every damn part of him, but it seemed Jake wanted to call the shots.
What Jake wanted, Jake got—and Mark had no qualms about giving it to him, either. He shimmied the jeans over slender hips, lowering to his knees and drawing the fabric down legs that had so often gripped him around the waist as he’d fucked Jake’s tight arse, legs that had shuddered as Mark sucked the cock jutting between them.
Fuck!
Mark’s thoughts had him battling to remain in control. He ached, the throb so strong he held his breath until the insistent beat lessened. He released the air from his lungs and smoothed his hands up the backs of Jake’s legs, the muscles taut under his palms. Cupping Jake’s arse, Mark kneaded, skimming his fingertips up and down the crack. Jake’s hard cock brushed Mark’s chest.
Shit, this is so fucking hot.
Reaching up, Mark caressed Jake’s back before returning his hands to his arse. He brought one hand around to fist Jake’s erection, holding him at his base. Looking down and wetting his lips in anticipation, Mark eyed Jake. The flashlight gave enough illumination so Mark could see a glistening drop of pre-cum, and his arsehole bunched as yearning to take that hardness into his mouth gripped him. He licked away the wetness, the taste of it spreading over his tongue. He took a second to savour the moment then plunged his mouth over Jake’s dick.
A barely perceptible gasp left Jake, and Mark drew upwards, creating the suction he knew his lover wanted—hard and unrelenting. He bobbed his head, taking Jake deeper every time he sucked him in. Jake buried his hands in Mark’s hair, directing the pace. Mark worked faster, pulled up harder.
“Fuck, yes!” Jake hissed, clenching Mark’s hair in tight fists. He gave a strangled groan, then, “Wait! Shit, wait!”
Mark eased his mouth away, looking up at Jake, who stared down at him with half-closed eyes. He slowly drew his hand up and down Jake’s cock, maintaining eye contact, silently asking the question he wanted to say out loud.
“Stand up,” Jake said, his words quavering. “I need… fuck, I need…”
Mark stood, still wanking Jake, still looking into his eyes. “You need what?”
“Turn around.”
Mark released Jake and obeyed, waiting for Jake’s next instruction. It came as a gentle push towards the pallet and the lifting of Mark’s arms as Jake placed them above his head, palms pressed to the polythene. Breathing heavily in expectation, Mark listened to the shuffle of the oblong box being opened, the sound slicing through the relative quiet. He recognised the noise of a tube being taken from the box, and he smiled. Another sound came then, a small pop. Jake had dropped the tube lid?
Body heat close to Mark’s back told him Jake stood near, and he closed his eyes. The cold drip of lube at the top of his arse crack had him hiking in a sharp breath of shock. Jake smoothing it down the valley with his fingertips warmed the fluid, and Mark widened his legs to give him better access. Thoughts of being fucked against the pallet, with nothing to grip except polythene… Mark wanted Jake to rush, yet at the same time he wanted to relish this moment because, fuck, they wouldn’t repeat it in a hurry.
Will we?
He wasn’t sure they should, but the idea of it set his cock to throbbing harder. It screamed to be touched, for Jake to take it in hand while he fucked his arse. Jake circled Mark’s pucker with teasing strokes. Another dribble of lube oozed down, and Jake pushed his fingertip inside Mark. The quick burn of the intrusion fizzled out with Jake going in further, and Mark hissed out between clenched teeth.
“You feel that?” Jake asked, his voice low. “You like that?”
Mark nodded, eyes still closed, and widened his legs some more.
Jake added a second finger, moving them in and out with ease, brushing over the nub inside Mark. He sucked in air, his balls drawing up, his cock bobbing.
“Shit, that feels damn good. More.” Mark opened his eyes and glanced over his shoulder.
Jake was looking down, watching his fingers moving, and the sight of him turned Mark on to the point he swore he was going to come.
“Fuck!”
Jake withdrew his fingers and pressed his body close, tilting his head to steal a kiss. Mark flashed out his tongue, and Jake did the same, their positions too awkward for their lips to meet. Jake groaned and lowered his lips to Mark’s shoulder, butting the tip of his cock to Mark’s arsehole. Mark nuzzled his cheek to Jake’s head and waited for the stretch. It came, fast and burning, Jake pushing his cock in. Pleasure-pain seared, and Mark moaned, clenching his hands into fists.
“All of you. I want all of you,” Mark said, jutting his arse out, shoving back onto Jake’s cock.
That hardness he loved filled him, and Jake set up an easy rhythm, quickening along with Mark’s pants. Jake gripped Mark’s waist, fingertips biting into his flesh, the feel of it enticing Mark closer to the edge.
“Oh, yeah. You like that, Mark? You like my cock in your tight little ass?” Jake’s skin slapped Mark’s, and he thrust faster. “Fucking… tight on my… cock. Ah! Shit, I’m going to come.”
Jake shunted, lancing Mark harder, reaching around to fist Mark’s length. His touch and fast jolting had Mark keening, and he slammed himself back and forth, matching Jake’s rhythm, aching to reach completion. He smacked the side of his fist on the boxes, hanging his head back so his torso formed a curve. Jake lightly bit Mark’s shoulder, and with an animalistic grunt, he jerked Mark’s cock and thrust inside him with unrelenting speed.
Mark’s orgasm began to peak, tingles spreading from his balls and up his cock. His vein throbbed a second before a shot of cum sped out of him and slapped the polythene. He let out a hoarse cry, his legs spasming and his knees weakening. Wet heat filled his arse, hot and welcomed. Mark’s shoulder muffled Jake’s stuttered groans, and Mark’s joined them, another jet leaving him, stretching his cockhole.
“Ah, fuck!” Mark closed his eyes, allowing himself to drown in the sensations spiralling through his body. After a third expulsion and more heat in his arse, he lowered his arms to fumble behind and place his hands on Jake’s buttocks, encouraging his lover to slow.
Jake stopped, his breaths hot on Mark’s skin. They stood still for long moments, gathering their wits and steadying their breathing.
“Shit, that was intense,” Mark said, pulling away, already mourning the loss of Jake’s cock inside him. He turned and pulled him close, cupping Jake’s cheek and seeking out his lips.
Their kiss ended at the sound of movement in the warehouse.
Mark stared at Jake. “Shit!” he whispered, heart rate picking up speed. “Did you hear that?”
Jake’s breathing faltered. He nodded and brought a finger to his lips. Quietly, he gathered his clothing in his arms and switched off the flashlight. He found Mark’s hand in the darkness, and Jake led him along the narrow aisle behind the pallets. At the corner, Jake stopped and poked his head out. Giving Mark’s hand a tug, he guided them to the locker room, closing the door behind them.
Mark released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d held. “Holy fuck!”
“We’re going to have to get dressed and get the hell out, quick. Where are your clothes?”
“In my locker.” Mark weaved across the room, taking careful steps by memory, because he sure as shit couldn’t see a damn thing in here. At his locker, he pulled out his clothes, and something came out with it, hitting the floor with a resounding crack. “Shit! Sorry!” He glanced down. His phone was face-up, the light from the screen a rectangle of brightness. Scooping it up, he put it in the bottom of his locker then dressed, his movements erratic as his earlier thoughts of being caught returned.
I can’t believe someone else is here. That we fucked, risking a damn audience!
“Yeah. You?”
“Yeah. Come on. We need to go.”
Mark slid his phone into his jeans pocket and walked towards where he’d left Jake. He bumped into him and almost yelled out.
Get a bloody grip!
“Okay. Let’s go.” He took a deep breath and followed Jake from the locker room.
They only had a few steps to take and made it to the fire exit door within seconds. Mark had disabled the alarm earlier, so opening the door didn’t pose a problem.
Unless security is here for a check-up and reset the bloody thing again.
He winced. Jake pushed down the bar that kept the door closed. It swung open. No blaring alarm, no creak of the hinges. They slipped out into the cold night. Pushing the door to—it couldn’t be closed from outside—Mark streaked across the car park behind Jake, the urge to laugh pushing him to clamp his lips closed. He felt alive and so damn freaked at the same time, he couldn’t get to his car fast enough. He’d left it in a side street, their plan in case the very thing that was happening happened, and their cars were spotted outside the warehouse.
Once there, he fumbled in his jacket pocket for his keys. “See you at home,” he said. Inside his car, he gunned the engine and sped away, releasing a shaky laugh and hoping to God it was security in the building. They’d left the door open, and if the place got burgled…
Shit.
He reached home in record time, mind full of what-ifs and ominous scenarios. He parked in the underground lot beneath their block of flats and breathed a sigh of relief seeing Jake’s headlights cut through the semi-darkness. Mark got out of his car then locked up, waiting anxiously for Jake to do the same.
Jake strolled over. “That was a bit close, man. Too close.”
“Who the hell was it?” Mark walked towards the concrete stairs, his heart thumping too hard. “I mean, it could have been anyone.”
“It was Ben. I looked back as we left the car park. Saw his profile through the window. No two people have a nose like that.”
Mark pushed air out through pursed lips. “Thank fuck for that!”
“Yeah, he’ll spot the door, so stop worrying.”
Mark led the way up the stairs. “What was he doing there, though? No security was meant to be on tonight.” He rounded the landing and took another flight.
“You know what he’s like. Reckon he was sitting at home, thinking about work. He never has thought that place was safe unless he’s working his shift.”
They entered their flat, and in the living room, Mark tossed his keys onto the table. He took off his jacket while Jake locked up. He stared at the coffee table, at the many presents on it, and knew, despite their recent mad hour or two, no present down there was going to beat the one he’d just had.
Jake came into the room and stood behind him, gathering Mark close. He linked his hands across Mark’s belly. “Happy birthday, man,” he whispered.
Mark smiled and stared out of the window. A million lights sparkled across the city of London. “Thanks, but…” He glanced across at the wall clock above the TV. “My birthday’s over. It’s yours now. Want your present?”
Jake turned Mark to face him. “You can’t tell me what you’ve got me will beat what I gave you.”
Mark lifted Jake’s t-shirt for the second time. “You wanna bet?”
*****
More about Sarah Masters
Sarah Masters is a multi-published author with six pen names writing several genres. She lives with her husband, children, and two cats in an English village. She is also Head of Art for a publishing company. In another life she was an editor. Her other pen names are Natalie Dae, Geraldine O’Hara, Emmy Ellis, Charley Oweson, and she’s one half of Harlem Dae.
Links
Website: http://www.emmyellisblog.blogspot.co.uk/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/emmy.ellis.503
Praise for Sarah Masters
“You will NOT be disappointed!! This was seriously amazing. I'm gonna read it again, and again, and again. It was THAT good!”
Amazon Review
“A perfect short story, beautifully evocative and exquisitely told.”
Amazon Review
“Author Sarah Masters did a superb job of capturing the mental angst one goes through during break-up.”
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Francesca’s Mother
By Tabitha Rayne
I couldn’t help but stare.
She was perfection in her black bikini, standing in front of me in line for the waterslide. From her heels to her calves, all the way up the back of her thighs to the dip and crease of her buttocks, her legs were flawless. Olive, hair-free skin had me mesmerized. I was now glad of the long queue which previously had me shivering. With all the self assurance of a foreign exchange student, she gracefully lifted her ponytail and tied it in a knot. I swallowed hard as I caught a glimpse of thick dark hair curling under her arms. My heart leapt and I was instantly thrown back to my youth.
Francesca’s mother was my guilty pleasure. I would stay for long weekends at their house and spend the whole time preoccupied by the huge maternal presence that commanded the family home with gentle force. I would find any excuse to go into the kitchen and watch her knead dough on the antique pine table, her braless breasts swinging and gently slapping together beneath a purple smock dress. She was so mighty and strong and, though I couldn’t name it at the time, sensual. When she moved near me I’d inhale her scent. Underneath the rosemary and garlic, there was something else; something musky and dangerous. It at once attracted and repelled me, but I always filled my lungs with the delicious warmth, seeking that hidden perfume.
“Look at this,” Francesca pulled me into her mother’s bedroom one trip home from college. We sprawled on the bed reading Anais Nin and Nancy Friday books until we could gasp and giggle no more. I read the words, becoming more and more physically turned on. I’d had a few ferociously passionate encounters at college and was no stranger to sex, but I sensed these books were exploring something else too. Something more than the physical. They made me want to be with the mighty woman downstairs.
“I’m just going for a drink,” I told Francesca and rolled off the bed, taking care not to show the damp spot forming in my jeans.
When I got to the kitchen, Francesca’s mother was standing over a huge pot of broth on the stove. Thick meaty smells filled the room, and as she lifted her elbow to stir the great vat, a tuft of glossy black curls sprang into view. I was slightly repulsed but my mouth started watering and warmth and moisture spread between my legs. I sat on a stool and pressed my hands onto my mound, rocking my pelvis into my fists while Francesca’s mother stirred the soup. I came in my jeans just as she tapped the drips off the ladle on the side of the pot.
The atmosphere was charged and I was sure I caught her eyes flit across my tiny hard nipples while she swept away wild peppery hair from her brow with her forearm. I lifted my ribcage and stared at her, daring her to look again, but she didn’t. She turned back to the range and opened the oven door. Steam and the odour of fresh baked bread broke the spell and I hopped off the stool and sped back up to Francesca, at once invigorated and ashamed.
And now, at the swimming pool of all places, these feelings had returned. The queue bustled into me and I stumbled slightly into the back of the poised beauty in front. She looked haughtily round and I licked my lips involuntarily at the sight of hers. Full and raw with a dusting of fine hairs on her upper lip. Suddenly I was consumed with want for this woman. I could have grabbed her there and then. I could feel my nipples peaking as she looked at me straight in the eye.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped. “It’s the people behind, they keep pushing.”
She slowly and languidly looked down the full length of me then turned back as the attendant signalled her to go on the slide. She grabbed the bar at the top of the entrance and flung herself into
the water filled tube. My desire began to subside and I gave myself a mental shake. What was I up to?
The attendant gave me the nod and I pushed myself as hard as I could into the tunnel. I was drenched and gathered up by the flow, sliding up and down the sides of the huge tube. It was exhilarating and my lustful agitation was just easing when I collided hard into a figure jammed spread-eagled against the sides of the slide.
“What the…” I started as the woman from the queue fell heavily onto me thrusting a hand over my mouth.
“I saw the look in your eyes,” her distinct voice hissed in my ear and my want came flooding back. As we writhed and twisted gathering speed, she removed her hand and kissed me hard, forcing my mouth open with her powerful sharp little tongue. It was thrilling and I reached round and grabbed her ass through her bikini bottoms. She countered by shoving her hand in between my legs and pulled my swimsuit to the side, delving fingers inside my soaked sex. I splayed my legs open and tried to slow us down by grabbing the tube walls. She slammed her pelvis into the gap and ground her hand deeper into my pussy with the force of her mound. It felt so horny and I grabbed at her tits craning my head up and under her arm to catch another glimpse of the beautiful curls. She obliged, lifting her arm, allowing me to bury my nose into the fragrant nook. There it was. Sensual, dangerous, horny – that smell. I wallowed in it as she kneaded my clit with her thumb. I jerked and rocked as the stars that always signalled my climax swirled in my peripheral vision. My pussy began to well and she started pumping her fingers into me violently as the water gushed around us and flowed over her chest, pulling down her bikini top so that her ripe dark nipples were just a lick away. As I started coming, I engulfed one of her breasts with my hungry mouth and suckled her throbbing tit, tonguing the puckered flesh trying to take it all in. She grabbed my pussy from the inside and out, gripping my clit and g-spot together. I came, twitching and panting and gushing all over her sexy little hands. I wanted my turn, I wanted to fuck her with my fingers, my tongue, but she climbed off me, and slid away while tying her bikini back up. The slide ended abruptly and I splashed out into a deep cool pool. I swam to the surface, staring all around for my tunnel lover, but I couldn’t see her anywhere.
Sexy Just Walked Into Town Page 21
