by Neil Plakcy
“Matt, you ready?” Simon asked, and Matt realized he’d closed his eyes at some point. He couldn’t quite make them open, just turned his head and nodded. “Danny?”
Danny must have done the same, because his fingers went away, and he shifted, hands on Matt’s knees, pushing his legs open and back, until they were pressed almost to Matt’s chest, held in place more by Danny’s hands than by anything Matt was doing.
Matt clenched his hands tight on the iron bars, and felt the head of Danny’s cock against his ass. He took a deep breath, tried to relax a little more, like he wasn’t already plenty relaxed, and then Danny was pushing into him, huge and hot, filling him up until his balls were pressed against Matt’s ass and his cock was against Matt’s prostate and he could hardly breathe through it. He felt a dab of something cool against his stomach, realized it was his cock, leaking fluid.
“Just like that,” Simon said, too close to be at the tripod still. “You’re so hot.”
Matt’s hands were shaking, from arousal, from how tight they were clenched on the bars, from Simon and the compliment, even if it was just professional. He felt like he might explode if something didn’t happen. “God, please, move,” he gasped.
Danny squeezed his knee, but didn’t say anything.
“Danny, fuck me, please, I won’t cum, I just need…” He tried to shift his hips, couldn’t, with the way he was bent.
“I can’t,” Danny said, voice strained.
“It’s okay,” Matt managed. “I just need something.…“
“No, I really can’t,” Danny said again. “My boyfriend and I made a deal, he doesn’t object to me doing this as long as I don’t have sex.”
Matt swallowed hard, wishing Simon would hurry up, call it done. “You’ve got your cock in my ass.”
“It’s only sex if I move,” Danny said. Matt wanted to look at him, see if he really believed what he was saying, because if he did, his boyfriend was one dumb fuck, but his eyes were burning. “This is just—another way to touch you.”
“Christ,” Matt moaned, and turned his head back the other way, panting for breath. His whole body ached with the need to cum, the need for someone to move, in him, on him.
“I’m sorry,” Danny said. He sounded genuine, enough for Matt to nod, okay, sure, if you say so.
“Few more seconds,” Simon said. “You’re nearly done, you’re perfect, both of you, you’re amazing,” and then it was over, Simon stepping back and saying, “That’s it, all done.”
Danny squeezed Matt’s knee again, starting to pull out.
“Untie me,” Matt gasped, letting his legs drop back onto the bed. He must have been in position longer than he’d realized, his thigh muscles burning.
Danny slid the rest of the way out, already moving away, the head of his cock bumping Matt’s balls, and Matt groaned, tried to thrust up into it, except Danny was already gone.
Matt felt someone move, sit on the edge of the bed. He made himself open his eyes, look up at Simon, who, yeah, was definitely into the photographs. Behind Simon, at the edge of the room, he could just see Danny, one hand braced on the wall, the other moving in an unmistakable rhythm. He wondered what Danny’s boyfriend had to say about him getting off on having his cock in Matt’s ass.
“Untie me,” he said again. “God, please, I need…”
Simon ran one finger round the scarf over Matt’s right wrist, watching his own hand. “I could,” he said idly. “Or I could leave you like this. I think you like it.”
“Fuck you,” Matt groaned. His hips jerked up without him meaning to, trying to find something to rub against when there was nothing but air. “Simon, come on.”
“I think I like you like this,” Simon said. Distantly, Matt heard the door open and close. “I think I like it very much,” Simon added, and he moved, so fast Matt barely registered it, and then Simon was crouched over him, over his legs. “And I think you will too.”
Matt cried out at the first touch of Simon’s mouth on his cock, taking his whole length into warm and wet and, fuck, so good he thought he’d cum immediately, so much better than he’d ever imagined. Simon didn’t mess about, just sucked him, hard, bringing one hand down to roll Matt’s balls in his palm, making Matt shout again, so turned on he could hardly stand it. He tried to reach for Simon, automatic, and the restraints held, snapped his hands back. He twisted his whole upper body instead, not even sure what he was trying to get when he had Simon sucking his cock, Simon’s hand on his balls, Simon, oh God, shoving three fingers into his ass, fucking him with them, and it was too much.
Matt shouted, back arching off the bed, and felt Simon pull back off his cock, but it didn’t matter, because he was coming, so hard he thought he might pass out, his whole body one long pulse of pleasure.
When it was over, he collapsed back onto the bed, feeling weak, aftershocks still zinging through his extremities. He opened his eyes, Simon fuzzy around the edges above him. “That was,” he said, and couldn’t think of the end. He’d never even realized Simon was interested, had always told himself he was seeing something he wanted to see that wasn’t there.
“That was your turn,” Simon said, hands on the buttons of his dark shirt. “Now it’s mine.”
“Oh God,” Matt moaned, letting his head fall back against the pillow. His cock twitched, expressing its own interest in the proceedings. “You want me to suck you like this?”
“No.” Simon kneed his way up the bed, naked, cock sticking up between his legs, and it should have looked funny, but it just made Matt a little dizzy. He wondered if this was how Simon saw the world, through his camera lens. “I want you to let me untie you, turn over, and lie still while I hold you down and fuck you.”
Matt’s world blurred out a little, images tumbling through his mind so fast he got even more dizzy. Simon’s hand on the scarves was enough to pull him back though, everything suddenly sharp and bright. He rolled his right wrist as his hand came free, then his left, but that was all he had a chance to do before Simon was turning him onto his stomach and pushing him down, hands on his biceps. He breathed, felt Simon breathe somewhere above and behind him, and then Simon was pushing into him, same place Danny’s thick cock had just been.
Simon shifted forward, putting more weight onto his hands, letting his cock sink a little deeper into Matt, who moaned, feeling himself getting hard again, not that he’d ever really gone soft after his orgasm.
“Do it,” he said, muffled into the pillow.
That seemed to be all the encouragement Simon needed; he pulled out nearly all the way, then pushed back in, hard and deep, enough to shift Matt’s hips against the mattress, to rub his cock and balls on thick cotton sheets. He groaned, then again when Simon repeated it, again, again, fucking him hard and fast, almost careless, balls slapping Matt’s ass with every thrust. Matt curled his fingers tight around the pillow, trying to move against Simon’s thrusts, but his second orgasm was already fluttering on the edges of his vision, in the base of his spine, and it was all he could do to hold on and take it.
“God, God,” Simon panted, rhythm breaking up, and Matt went with it, fucking himself on Simon’s cock, fucking his own into the mattress, until his second orgasm broke over him, his ass clenching around Simon’s length inside him, and Simon gave a broken moan, hips stuttering, and came as well.
Matt felt like he was floating back down to full awareness from somewhere very far away. His whole body felt like an overcooked noodle, his cock and balls stung, and his ass ached around the soft length of Simon’s cock, still in him, Simon’s weight still on him where he’d collapsed as he rode out what had felt, to Matt, like a pretty intense orgasm.
“You okay?” Simon asked, patting haphazardly at Matt’s shoulder.
“Better if I wasn’t breathing through a pillow,” Matt said.
Simon moved, sliding out of him, and fumbled the condom off. Matt reached out one limp, exhausted arm, and caught his wrist before he could get up, pulling him back down so they were curled to
gether, skin against sweat damp skin. Simon looked worried, even as he mirrored Matt’s hold on him.
“Kiss me,” Matt said, already leaning in. It wasn’t like kissing Danny had been, as much a performance as something for them. It was more, better, even though they were both too worn out to do a great job of it. Affectionate, ten years of friendship behind it.
“Okay?” Matt said, feeling the tug of exhaustion.
“Yeah,” Simon said, pulling him closer. “Perfect.”
Three months later:
Pretty much the last thing Matt wanted to hear was the rattle of his curtains being opened, not least because it was followed by way too much daylight for the blanket over his head to take care of.
“I hate you,” he said, squinting his eyes shut to see if that helped. All it did was make his head ache more.
“No you don’t,” Simon said cheerfully, the bed shifting as he sat down. “It’s Christmas, I’ve got coffee and painkillers, you love me.”
“I’d love you more if you had breakfast,” Matt said, turning so he could rest his head, still under the blanket, against Simon’s thigh. “Or if you hadn’t let me drink so much last night.”
“I’m not the one who thought he could out-drink John’s Marine friends,” Simon pointed out, patting Matt’s shoulder through the blankets. “I didn’t want to spoil your fun.”
“You just wanted me at your mercy this morning so I’d agree to something ridiculous like, I don’t know, lunch with your sister or carol singing with Mrs. Williams from downstairs.”
“My sister’s a five-hour flight away, and your singing voice is appalling.” Simon rubbed Matt’s shoulder again, then started easing the blankets away. “Come on, get up, we’ve got a Christmas present.”
“I’m kind of hoping we’ve got more than one,” Matt grumbled, giving up his half-hearted fight with the covers. Coffee did sound awfully appealing.
“This is for both of us—a joint present.” Simon, when Matt emerged, was dressed already in soft jeans and a black sweatshirt, but still barefoot.
“It better not be china,” Matt said firmly. They weren’t even technically living together yet, he so wasn’t ready for the implications of picking out china patterns, especially when they both had a full set already.
“It’s not,” Simon promised. “Guess again.”
He gestured to a brown paper parcel leaning against the bedroom wall—maybe three feet by four, and flat, with a “Fragile” label stuck on it.
“Who’s it from?” Matt asked, suspecting he already knew the answer.
“Loretta,” Simon said, somewhere between bashful and pleased.
“Oh God,” Matt groaned, falling back onto the bed and pulling a pillow over his eyes.
Though he would admit, under duress, that there were worse ways to spend Christmas than reenacting that photo shoot.
THOSE ALMOND EYES
Jay Starre
It started with a kiss, totally unexpected and totally smoking hot.
Kevin had been looking forward to the photo shoot ever since he’d scored the gig. An avid surfer himself, shooting a layout for Surfside magazine was a dream come true. Then, he was given the model’s name and he was really stoked.
Blaze Li.
The first time he became aware of the hot young model was only six months earlier as he flipped through the pages of a trendy New York magazine called Uptown. A glossy ad featured Blaze alone. Dressed in cream and beige loungewear, his golden skin and sleek black mane stood out, as did his eyes. The most amazing almond in both color and shape, they stared directly out at him from the page, smoldering and intimate.
The second time was only a month later. On this occasion there wasn’t much left to the imagination as Blaze’s body was revealed in its rippled, sleek entirety. It was an underwear ad on a downtown New York City billboard. And it was enormous.
The third time was a few weeks earlier, in Rome at a haute couture show. A photographer buddy of his had conned him into attending, and in the end he was glad he did. The show was ridiculous and outrageous as expected, but fun, and he was enjoying himself thoroughly until out strolled Blaze Li.
Naked from the waist up, his smooth torso was dappled with silver and jade glitter, while woven into the sleek strands of his long black hair were matching silver and green feathers. His amazing eyes were accented by outlandish swirls of jade-green makeup. His pants were striped in the same silver and green and clung to his body like a second skin. He was barefoot and padded along the runway like some exotic Asian tiger about to pounce.
When he turned and headed in the opposite direction, Kevin got a good long look at the compact globes of his perfect ass. A raging hard-on throbbed in his jeans. That stiff dick only subsided temporarily, resurfacing shortly afterward when he was face to face with the hot model backstage.
His buddy took him behind the scenes into the chaos of the dressing room where he, along with a half-dozen others, was introduced to Blaze. It was a brief encounter, a mere nod and a hint of a smile from the sexy model, but their eyes met and held. Kevin’s cock strained against the inside of his fly.
That was it. Now, they were scheduled to spend the morning together. Just the two of them.
The beach at Noosa he’d chosen for their photo shoot was clothing-optional and a bit of a hike from the road, which suited him perfectly. It was January and the height of Queensland’s summer. The Australian gums and eucalyptus that lined the shore offered some protective shade, and a morning breeze off the surf felt deliciously soothing.
It was only 7:00 A.M. and Kevin was wondering if the model was going to be fashionably late when a light tap on the shoulder from behind startled him.
“You’re quiet! Hey, how ya doin’? I’m Kevin Grant, your photographer for the day.”
“Yeah. We met a few weeks ago in Rome.”
The voice was subdued. Just a ghost of a smile pursed the bowed lips, but those eyes met his with direct intensity and held them.
“Yeah, right. Uhhh, let’s get started while it’s still relatively cool and the light’s how I want it.”
Blaze merely nodded. Neither were big talkers, and with no nonsense and no bullshit, they got to work.
Kevin had his own style. He worked alone with one camera, no lighting, and no attending makeup artists to fuss over his models. Some of them refused to be shot that way, but Blaze had been fine with it.
No wonder. As he donned one swimsuit after the other, from skimpy pairs of nut-huggers to baggy knee-length surf shorts, every square inch of flesh revealed was without blemish and perfectly sculpted in rippling muscle.
His body was lean without being emaciated, muscular without being muscle-bound, and at all times gracefully masculine. Kevin ate it up with his camera, while enjoying a pleasantly throbbing stiffie under his own surf shorts all the while.
They chatted only intermittently. Blaze revealed he was not a native New Yorker but was born and raised in Hawaii. And like many people there, he was the result of the island’s racial melting pot. His mother was Chinese and his father Portuguese. He had been a college gymnast and had given it up only when modeling offered him good money and a chance to move to New York.
Kevin offered a bit of his own history. He too had been a college athlete. A swimmer, he still swam regularly, and of course he loved surfing. But his true love was photography, and he was happy to be making his own mark in the industry.
The kiss that started it all happened just after a dozen or so changes.
Ensconced in the shade of the woods just up from the sandy beach, Blaze stripped off one suit before donning the other right there in the open. It was a nude beach after all, and none of the few sunbathers lounging nearby took noticeable heed.
Of course, Kevin couldn’t take his eyes off the luscious sight of the hot model in the buff. His golden skin was nearly hairless. Only a scant and obviously trimmed patch of black fuzz grew above his cock and balls.
And they were very nice cock and bal
ls. Full nads snuggled tight below a slim but lengthy tube of caramel-brown meat. With Kevin’s eyes on him, and the camera, that slim tube did seem to swell slightly, which did nothing to deter from the sensuality of the pics Kevin was taking. Nothing wrong with a bit of a bulge under the swimsuit being featured.
Kevin had just managed to catch that tantalizing bulge in the perfect light as a beam of morning sunlight zeroed in on it through the dappled shade. He lowered the camera, a big smile plastered all over his face.
Blaze came at him with quiet but determined grace. One moment he was five paces away, the next he was right there in Kevin’s face. Hands came up, one slid behind his neck and the other cupped his chin. Those amazing almond eyes stared into his as pursed lips gently came forward and landed on his own wide mouth.
It was soft and gentle, supple lips just touching his own. He gasped, opening his mouth, and just like that a tongue slipped into him.
Clutching his camera in one trembling hand, he managed to reach around with the other and grab hold of one cheek of Blaze’s compact ass. Solid heat emanated through the thin material of the swimsuit while the round cheek itself pushed back and rolled against his spread fingers.
Totally dumbfounded, and totally spellbound, Kevin surrendered to the tongue-stabbing kiss. Blaze continued to hold his head and face with his slender hands as he devoured his mouth. It was a wet, sloppy, and deep kiss, but it was languidly gentle for all that.
And it was driving Kevin crazy. His hand on that rock-solid butt cheek squeezed and kneaded almost frantically. Now that the likelihood of exploring that gorgeous body was literally within his grasp, he could hardly hold back. He wanted desperately to drag the hot model back into the quiet of the woods and ravage him.
Blaze’s eyes were half-shut, soft and warm as he stared into Kevin’s big blue ones. His hands were firm as he held the photographer’s face immobile and continued to suck, lick, and tongue his lips and gaping mouth.
Then, Blaze pressed forward, just enough to mash his crotch against Kevin’s. The blond photographer gurgled around the tongue sliding toward his tonsils and pressed back. A throbbing tube of heat ground against his own swollen shank.