Page 60 of Muscle Cub

Austin folded his arms across his chest. “So are you gonna tell me what your book’s about?”

I sighed. “I wish I could. That’s the million-dollar question sitting at the center of my world, and I have until the end of summer to find an answer. I took a sabbatical for spring and summer terms, but I’ve squandered half the time with absolutely nothing to show for it.”

“Did they already pay you an advance?”

“No. Thank God. It’s proven to be a mixed blessing. I originally had a three-book deal, but after the second book took off like a flightless bird, they canceled my contract.”

“Harsh. Can they do that?”

“Oh, yeah. They can. So my cool career is pretty much back at square one. I still have an agent. Technically. Maybe. If I can pitch her something really good in the next few months.”

Austin unfolded his arms and hooked a finger through one of my belt loops. “It’s a sophomore slump. It happens to bands all the time.” He pushed off the wall, planted his feet, and grabbed another belt loop with his free hand, the weight of his arms pulling our hips together. “You still have muscle memory. Your talent’s still there. All your practice and experience. You just gotta get out of your head and into your body and let instinct take over.”

“Believe me, I’d love nothing more than to be able to do that. I sit at that desk and stare out those windows, waiting for inspiration to come, but—” I shook my head. Why were we even talking about this? I should shut the hell up and get him upstairs.

“I can help you brainstorm,” Austin murmured, brushing his lips against mine. “I come up with movie ideas all the time. Ask anybody.”

I hummed. “I didn’t invite you in so we could brainstorm.” This would be the first time I ever kissed someone in this house.

“Maybe I can help you with something else.” He covered my mouth with his and immediately parted my lips with his tongue. The deep, hungry kiss left me unbalanced on my feet when he pulled away. “But first I need to pee. Show me this new bathroom.”

I directed Austin upstairs and followed him, staring at his butt and marveling at his calves. On the second-floor landing were doors to two bedrooms on either side and one large bathroom directly ahead. Houses from this era usually didn’t have designated primary bedrooms with private en suites, but there was an additional door connecting my bedroom on the right.

The room was small, so I leaned against the sink counter while Austin admired the traditional hexagon-patterned black-and-white floors, the white subway tiles on the walls, and the original clawfoot tub.

“This is the prettiest bathroom I’ve ever been in,” Austin said, whipping his dick out over the toilet. Where I could see it. He watched me watching him as he pissed, but it was more casually intimate than erotic. When he was finished, he shook himself off, handling his cock more than was necessary. He tore off a few squares of toilet paper and buffed the rim clean in a comically fastidious manner.

I chuckled at his performance.

“Excuse me.” Before I could step out of the way, Austin reached for the faucet, brushing his arm against mine. He washed and dried his hands while making eye contact in the mirror.

It reminded me of watching him remove his horned headdress and makeup in the bathhouse the night we’d met. But in this moment, I did what I’d wanted to do then. I stepped behind him, slipped my arms under his, and encircled his belly. I nuzzled his cheek, my facial hair tickling his ear. “I jerked off into this sink thinking about you the other day. Right after I got home.” I studied our reflection. “I can’t say I love watching myself, but…” I pressed my crotch against his ass.

He covered my hands with his and gave me a filthy smirk. “I didn’t think I’d want you to take me from behind because I like looking at you, but”—he pushed his ass back against my crotch—“this is kinda working for me.” He turned in my arms and cupped my face. “But we’ll have to come back to it. I gotta do something else first.” He dropped into a deep squat so quickly I had to grab the edge of the vanity to steady myself.

I watched as he unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts, slipped his fingers into the waistband of my boxer briefs, and yanked everything down to my knees. My half-hard dick bounced out, and he caught the head between his lips.

He kept his mouth loose, warm, and wet with almost no suction at all. With his hands on the backs of my thighs, he pulled me into his throat. The sound of him trying not to gag was almost as hot as the sensation of the muscles spasming around the head of my cock.

He held me there. I caught myself holding my breath along with him, only I could never have lasted as long. Just as I began to worry he might asphyxiate, he pushed my hips away, dragged air into his lungs, and grinned up at me.

He swiped away the rope of spit connecting my dick to his lips and used it to wet my shaft, his loose fist making obscene squelching noises. The sensation was incredible.

Austin stopped to stand and pulled his shirt over his head.

I took mine off too.

He unlatched his belt buckle and attempted to drop his shorts, but they got hung up for a moment on the thick hook of his erection. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, and once he’d freed his hard cock, he stepped out of his shorts, naked except for his Adidas.

“God, you look so hot like that.”

He twisted his lips in a wry smile. “The one time I’m not wearing yours. I’ll remember for another time.”

Another time. It had crossed my mind that it might have been nicer to lie with him in my bed—it was less than twenty feet away—but there would be other times. Hopefully, this was only one of many.

I shoved my shorts and underwear down to my ankles, but unlike him, it was as far as I could go without taking off my shoes. I was hobbled. But we were eating one another’s mouths with our cocks sliding together, and I didn’t want to interrupt any of that.

Austin fumbled for my open dopp kit on the counter. For once, I’d been lazy with my unpacking and thankfully hadn’t put everything away yet. He found the lube bottle and flipped open the top.