HotShots99

by HotShots

  Kaden groaned as blood rushed down to that area. He spread his legs wider, clearly wanting his man back between them.

  “Roll over, sweetie,” Nick commanded, his cock not liking the cool bedroom air.

  Kaden lay face down on the bed, his legs spreading as Nick moved between them.

  “Hurry up and get back in me,” Kaden wiggled his ass. “You have till the count of three to get that cock back in me or I’m not going to let you have any for a month.”

  Nick chuckled, lining his cock up with Kaden’s waiting ass. They both groaned with satisfaction as Nick buried himself balls-deep in hot flesh. Nick adjusted his weight a little before he began to thrust back in to the man under him. His strokes weren’t as long as he wanted, but Kaden started trusting up to match him, his ass gripping his cock in his tightly as he pushed in. It was a feeling that made Nick’s eyes roll back in his head.

  He dropped his head forward, biting his lover’s shoulder. It was an animalistic primal desire, and he knew Kaden loved it when he gave into it. Kaden said it made him feel claimed, and he was right. A part of his brain did feel like he was claiming his mate every time his teeth scraped along his lover’s shoulder.

  He pushed harder, faster, his hips rolling slightly, trying to get as deep as possible. Kaden’s moans of pleasure changed from whimpers to a loud cry of pleasure. Nick’s own moans were becoming just as loud as instinct drove him harder and deeper. He felt Kaden stiffen under him before he screamed out his orgasm, but the sound hardly penetrated his own lust-filled brain. Nick felt the rush as it flowed through his cock and shot into Kaden, who happily accepted it.

  Nick collapsed onto Kaden, his exhausted muscles no longer able to hold him up. He was happy as he was, his cock still buried in his lover, his face in Kaden’s neck.

  “Fuck, that was good,” Kaden finally managed to mumble.

  Nick nodded, his body still too satisfied to move, his brain too fuzzy to make conversation.

  “Are you going to move, Nick?” Kaden wiggled a little, the movement making his cock twitch as the thought of more entered his head.

  “Do I have to?” Nick asked sleepily.

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay.”

  Sliding over, Nick reached for Kaden, pulling him against his chest. Kaden curled up against Nick, his head on his shoulder, his fingers slowly sliding up and down his lover’s chest.

  “Damn, that was fucking awesome.”

  “Um hum,” Nick agreed, his eyes closed, his body completely sated.

  “You do know that this changes nothing. I still don’t want to have a party until I’ve had at least a week alone with you.”

  Nick pulled him a little closer. “But you’re going to anyway.”

  Kaden crawled out of the bed, moving slowly as his body was clearly a bit sore, but Nick knew he loved every minute of it. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Do you want me to help you?” Nick waggled his eyebrows.

  Kaden smiled. “Depends on if you think you can rise to the occasion again.”

  Nick bounded off the bed. “I’m pretty sure I can.”

  Rough Riders

  Shannon West

  Dakota Greer

  I’m sure there are hotter places than Atlanta in the middle of August, but at the moment none came to mind. I got out of the shower and went back into the bedroom, still damp from the sweat that seemed to keep pouring off me no matter how many times I blotted myself with the towel in my hand. I went over to the air conditioning blasting in the room from a low-slung wall unit most hotels in my price bracket seemed to favor and stood over it, hoping to cool off a little before I got out my laptop. I’d been waiting for this moment all day, and now that it was finally almost here, even my palms were starting to sweat again. Shit, if I kept this up, I’d have to get another shower.

  Walking back into the bathroom to dry my hair, I pulled on a tight t-shirt and low-slung Pistol Pete briefs that fit my balls like a second skin. I thought about just going nude, but thought that might seem a bit needy. Glancing in the mirror over the dresser, I checked my look and tried on a couple of smiles. I was going for a sexy, casual male model style but I came off more cute high school cheerleader. Even at twenty-six, I was asked for my ID every time I tried to order a beer.

  Still, my appearance was what had helped make my career as a TV reporter for our local news station, WKRJ, all the news that is the news at six and seven o’clock, in Little Rock, Arkansas. I didn’t look like your typical anchor—most of them are tall, dark and handsome, in a hard-hitting-sincere-journalist kind of way, or else gray-haired, fatherly and trustworthy. Maybe part of my appeal was that I wasn’t either one of those things. I worked pretty hard at how I looked, because it was basically my living, but most people would call me cute instead of handsome.

  At five foot four and a hundred and thirty pounds, along with the afore-mentioned baby face and floppy blond hair, it was easy to see why. I didn’t really mind, most of the time. The women in the audience wanted to mother me and bake me cookies. The men alternated between those who saw me as a non-threatening younger brother or a I’d-like-to-screw-his-brains-out hot little twink. It was my trademark and my appeal, and had helped to get me my job as weekend anchor for the evening news in Little Rock.

  It was only times like these, when I was trying to look sexy, that I felt I failed miserably—times like tonight, my first live video sex with Carl. Up to this point, we’d only chatted via our webcams, as well as exchanging emails and photos, and can I just say, talk about tall, dark and handsome? Holy shit. Carl was probably a hundred seventy-five pounds of muscular deliciousness. Tanned skin, handsome features, short dark hair cut high and tight, he looked vaguely like a cop or a military man and totally like someone I wanted to know in a biblical way.

  We had met about a month before on a website called men2men, a kind of hook-up website for men of a gay persuasion, and one I had been using for about two weeks before I hit pay dirt with Carl. So why, if I’m so young and hot and on TV do I need to use a dating website, you ask? Well, precisely because of that, really. The TV part, anyway. When I go out around town, I’m usually recognized, and for many of the guys I meet, they’re more interested in saying they banged the guy on the weekend news than in my cute bod or sparkling personality.

  And before you feel sorry for me, that’s usually okay with me, especially if they’re hot. I was too busy trying to build my career to get involved in a long term relationship. Another part of the problem. So many of the guys I hooked up with had no idea about cut and release, a fishing term my dad taught me. In fishing, if you hook a fish you don’t want, you don’t just kill it. A good fisherman cuts it loose and releases it back to the water to live and maybe fight another day. I tried to cut them loose and release them, but they kept jumping back on the boat.

  As I mentioned, I wasn’t looking for anything long term. The lady who does my make-up was the one who first mentioned the website to me. Maria is about fifty, and racially ambiguous, though I thought she might be Puerto Rican, since she peppered her speech with lots of Spanish, even though I happened to know for a fact that she’d lived in Arkansas since before I was born.

  “Dios mio, Dakota,” she said, giving me the fish eye, “you look like hell this evening.”

  “Thank you, Maria, always good to hear.”

  She laughed and stroked my cheek maternally. “You know I love you, chico. And you always look very handsome, even when your skin is pale and your eyes are bloodshot, like they are now. Another late night?”

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “I kicked Todd to the curb last night, but he was a little resistant. Kept me up half the night wanting to talk about where it all went wrong.”

  “And? Did you figure out where it all went wrong?”

  “Probably when I came home and found him in my bed with his other boyfriend.”

  Maria’s eyebrows raised. “Lo siento, sweetie.”

  “Ye
ah, well, part of the problem was that I wasn’t—sorry, that is. It just gave me a good excuse to ask him to get out, really. Thing is, I never actually asked him to move in—he just kept ‘leaving’ parts of his wardrobe at my apartment until I had more of his clothes in my drawers than my own.”

  “Why does this keep happening with you, Dakota? When are you going to settle down with a nice boy?”

  I smiled up at her. “You sound like my mom now. I’m not ready to settle down, Maria. I just want a guy that I can get together with from time to time—you know, no muss, no fuss. No endless complaints that I don’t spend enough time with him. A lot of nights I don’t even get home until close to midnight, and if I’m on assignment, I could be gone for days at a time. What I need is a nice, no-strings relationship.”

  “Ooh, I know! Do what mi sobrino, my nephew, Jorge, did. He went on that dating site—what is it….oh, men2men.com? He met a nice guy on there from Canada or someplace. They video chat several times a week—even a little more than just chat, too, if you know what I mean.” Maria gave me what she thought was a wink. She didn’t close one eye, though, but slowly closed both at once, giving her the look of sleepy owl.

  “He’s really cute, Jorge says, and I think they’re planning a little vacation together soon so they can meet in person. Anyway, the good thing about it is they live so far away from each other. Jorge is just out of a bad relationship and didn’t want anything too much, you know?” She applied another layer of concealer, paying close attention to the dark shadows under my eyes. “This way, he gets to flirt with a handsome man, get his needs met occasionally, if you know what I mean,” Another slow blink. “…and still they’re not in a real relationship.”

  I shook my head skeptically. “I don’t know, Maria. Internet sex? Sounds kind of sleazy. What kind of guys do that?”

  “Nice boys like my Jorge. And his hermoso, who runs a computer business that keeps him on the road a lot. Using the computer is a convenience for him, that’s all. Saves him from meeting up in bars with guys who sleep with other men in his apartment when he’s not at home.”

  Ouch. She had a point, though. And it wasn’t like I didn’t look good on camera. I made some noncommittal answer to Maria, but I began to give the idea some serious thought. Two nights later, I looked up the website and accepted their offer of a free trial membership, using the name Travis, and a picture my mom had snapped of me at her house last Christmas. I was wearing jeans and a faded blue sweater I thought made me look approachable, yet interestingly attractive. Some of the men on the site were actually really hot, so I took a deep breath and sent a wink to a couple of them (the website’s name for an email letting them know I might be interested) and then sat back and waited for the winks to be acknowledged.

  It took about an hour for me to sort through the responses and find the one I was most interested in pursuing. I answered him and we chatted back and forth for a few days, but I soon lost interest when he told me how much he enjoyed working with the Young Republicans. I looked around off and on for another week or so when I got a chance, before I found the one I’d been looking for—cj875, aka Carl.

  Not only was he gorgeous, if his picture was any indication, but he turned out to be sweet, interesting and funny. Probably ten or twelve years older than I was, he had startlingly blue eyes and a body rippling with muscles. He said he lived and worked in Texas, though he didn’t tell me what he did for a living, and was kind of cagey about it when I asked. Not that I was any fountain of information either. Both of us were at that stage with someone you meet on the internet, where we were like two dogs about to fight. Circling each other, smelling each other’s assholes--figuratively speaking--and deciding if we wanted to pursue this thing any further or just call the whole damn thing off.

  We IM’d back and forth for a few days and exchanged a couple more pictures, and then he wanted to set up a video chat. The first time was a little awkward. I was, for some reason, beyond nervous, but as I stumbled and stuttered my way through the conversation, forgetting all about the fact I was a hotshot newsman who worked on camera for a living, he was easy-going and sweet, not to mention sinfully good-looking. His photos didn’t really do him justice, and they’d been drop-dead hot.

  By the time we ended the first chat, we’d been talking for over an hour. We began to get together on-line two or three times a week after that, and after two months, we were finally at the stage for going further than just chatting. We set a date, and I began to stress out over it, working myself into quite a state by the time the day finally rolled around. And that would be today.

  I was covering a story in Atlanta. A formerly prominent Little Rock businessman had become notorious for being involved in an Atlanta based Ponzi scheme that bilked its victims of hundreds of thousands of dollars, many of whom lived in the Little Rock area. He was being tried in an Atlanta courtroom, and I was there to cover his trial. After a long day in a stuffy courtroom listening to the sordid details, I was ready to go back to the hotel room and collapse in a puddle on my too-hard mattress.

  Then I remembered this was the night I would be exposing my charms for the first time to my internet crush. I had to rush to get back to the hotel room and get ready for my “date” with the sexy Carl. Glancing at the clock for about the hundredth time in the last five minutes, I turned on my laptop, arranged myself artfully on the bed and waited for the ping telling me my date had “arrived.” In a moment I would be getting intimate with a man I’d never really met except on-line, but somehow it didn’t seem all that strange. Our talks so far had been flirty and fun.

  Last week, when he first broached the subject, it had seemed like a natural extension of our time together. “Travis,” he said—did I mention I hadn’t used my real name? His voice had been low and intimate as we got ready to sign off for the evening. “I’d really like to see more of you.” At my puzzled look, he smiled and explained, “More than just your pretty face, I mean. Would you feel comfortable with that?”

  Would I? I hesitated for only a moment as I considered what he was asking. He wanted to see me naked. Since I had wanted to see him the same way for some time now, the idea didn’t really give me pause, but I thought I might look a little less slutty if I didn’t immediately start wagging my head up and down like a bobble head doll. “Why yes, Carl. I’d be comfortable with that,” I said, looking up at him from under my eyelashes. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Well,” he said, leaning in toward the camera a little. “Maybe next week I could see all of you? Your beautiful body, I mean? And I could show you my body too? Then if you like what you see, maybe we could…” he gave a little shrug.

  “Absolutely,” I said quickly. “I’d love to. I mean, I’d like that.”

  “Okay,” he said, smiling and blowing out a big breath in relief. “I’m glad. I-uh-I really look forward to our time together, Travis. You have no idea how much.”

  “Me too,” I said, warmly. “Until next week then.”

  “Yes. Goodnight, Travis. Have a good week.”

  “You too.” Before I could change my mind, I blew him a kiss and turned off the monitor, hoping the gesture hadn’t been too over the top. He was a macho kind of guy, after all. But then again, he seemed to like boys like me, so maybe I was still okay.

  The ping of the computer startled me out of my reverie and I watched the little hourglass spin around and around as I waited for my big, macho man to come online. So to speak. Finally, the screen went dark and an image appeared. Sitting on a bed was Carl, wearing only--oh my fucking God--a jockstrap. It was blue, with a little pouch in the front showing off his delicious assets to mouth-watering advantage. His body was amazing. Cut, defined pectorals tapered down to a luscious six-pack, with a little dark treasure trail leading downward. I could practically feel the drool dripping down my chin. His eyes were focused on me, looking me up and down and then blushing adorably again. “You’re wearing a shirt and underwear. I should have...I mean…
this is too much, isn’t it?”

  “No! I mean, you look fine to me. More than fine.” I quickly skimmed off the t-shirt over my head and threw it on the bed behind me. “See, now I’m more like you. I mean, dressed more like you. God, you’re so muscular. Your body is amazing.”

  He smiled and looked relieved. “You think so? I try to keep fit. But you…you’re beautiful, Travis.”

  My heart skipped a few beats at the look in his eyes, and I swallowed hard. “So, uh, how do we do this?”

  “Take off those underpants.”

  I blinked a little. The sweet man in front of me had subtly changed. His face was firmer, more commanding. His voice too, was harder and more like someone who was used to giving orders that were instantly obeyed. “I said, get naked.”

  Normally, I might have bristled at being told what to do in that tone of voice. That is, when my cock hadn’t become so hard my briefs were cutting off my circulation. “Okay,” I said, scrambling to get off the bed. I did as he asked, sliding the offending garment down my hips slowly, never shifting my gaze away from his cool, blue eyes. I had to ask, though. “Um, Carl? Are you by any chance into BDSM?”

  Carl smiled at me, his blue eyes sparkling. “Why, baby? Are you trying to negotiate a scene?”

  “No! I mean…it’s okay if you are. I just…I wondered.”

  “Why don’t you just let me handle things? Now play with yourself. Be sure you give me a good view.” His voice, though still commanding, had become raw and hoarse. I began to put on a show for him. Retrieving a tube of lube from the bedside table, I smoothed some over my cock and began running my fingers up and down the length of my shaft. He slipped the jock strap off, releasing a beast of a cock, large and thick, a few drops of pre cum glistening on top of the mushroom head. I licked my lips encouragingly as he began to stroke himself, matching his movements with mine.