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No, really, Rowe… you did once go to New York City and have wild, passionate sex with a rich beefcake. Here’s the video to prove it.
Was it possible to wear out digital video from rewatching it too often?
“You look like you’re scheming,” Bash said, clearly holding back a laugh as he placed me on the bed. His heated gaze roamed my body, stealing all logical thought from my brain. “There’s no need. I’m a sure thing, I promise.”
I kicked off my shoes while his hands returned to finish unbuttoning my shirt. I shoved them away and tackled the buttons faster than he ever could. “You do you. Me do me.”
He laughed, deep and easy, and it lit up his face—as if he needed to become more attractive. “You going to watch me, caveman?”
I scrambled up onto my knees and faced him, pulling my shirt off as if I was a brave Lothario who’d done this many, many times. “Yes. Me watch. Me like.”
Bash’s eyes roamed over my naked skin, and somehow, impossibly, something about my pale, scrawny chest made his eyes go dark with need. “Me like more.”
My nipples tightened, and air became harder to drag into my lungs.
“Bash,” I said almost under my breath. “Take off your clothes.Please?”
My whispered plea flipped a switch in him, but instead of hurrying, he began to move in a kind of sultry slow motion, removing his clothes one stitch at a time with a liquid rhythm that made me salivate.
“Wha… what’re you doing?” I breathed.
“You wanted me to remove my clothes, correct? I’m removing them. Thoroughly.”
Bash’s fake-innocent act was like a stroke to my already hard dick. I let out a noise of need and idly wondered how long a man could go without blinking before it became a risk to his eyesight. Because I needed my eyesight very, very badly, if only for this one night.
His abs contracted and stretched as his hips moved to a slow, relentless beat only he could hear. Meanwhile, my own heart pounded frantically, shuttling all of my blood south, and I was so busy watching the play of his muscles as he caressed his own chest that I forgot to take off my damned clothes.
“Pants off, Prince,” he reminded me with a smirk. “You do you, me do me, remember?”
Right.Shit. I had one job.
I attempted to yank down my pants but forgot I hadn’t unbuttoned them. When I remembered, I found the mechanics of unbuttoning way too complex for my trembling fingers. I ended up with my pants around my hips, trapped in a pathetic heap of desperation on the pristine bedding, my eyes still glued to Bash’s hypnotic movements.
“I… I think I changed my mind,” I panted. “Youshould do me.”
Bash laughed, and without missing a beat, he shucked the rest of his clothing. He yanked me to the edge of the bed and got my pants and underwear off in one smooth movement.
“You’re sogoodat unbuttoning,” I said reverently.
Bash laughed again and pushed me back on the crisp duvet, then climbed on the bed, holding himself directly over me like he was performing the world’s sexiest push-up. “Jesus. I swear, I’ve laughed more in the past twenty-four hours than I have in…months. Who knew laughter was so damn sexy?” He leaned forward and kissed me, pressing the entire hot length of his body against mine.
My brain was overloaded, overwhelmed by sensation. I tried to focus on all that was happening—every single place our skin touched, every tiny, growly sound that emerged from his throat, the perfect taste and texture of his tongue as it tangled with mine. There was no room in my mind for the niggling thoughts and worries that kept trying to surface—likeCrap, has there been a horrible mistake? Surely a guy like Bash cannot be fucking Linden, Indiana’s shortest and least remarkable gay man on purpose.—so I let my doubts go and focused on the opportunity right… on top of me.
Bash’s warmth covered me from head to toe, and my hands couldn’t get enough of him. They roamed over his back and shoulders hungrily while my lips mapped his throat and chest. He sucked on my earlobe and tugged it between his teeth while his hard cock dug into my upper thigh.
It was so much sensory input I realized I was making whimpering noises while trying to take it all in. But one thought emerged insistently: I wanted to see his cock. I wanted to feel its weight on my tongue and see his face when I sucked on the tip.
“Suck you,” I gasped, falling back into the brain-dead one-syllable words from earlier.
Bash seemed to be totally on board with this. He flipped us over so that he was lying on his back while I was draped on top of him like a blanket. As delightful as it was to have him as my personal mattress, his erection pushing insistently against my leg reminded me of my quest, and I quickly moved down to kneel between his thighs and surveyed the terrain.
God, that was some good terrain. The best.
My new favorite kind of terrain, if I had to select one.
I glanced up at him and wondered how I could obsess over his package without seeming creepy. The look on Bash’s face was intense enough to zap me right in the chest.
“Good enough?” he asked in a rough voice.
