Lotus Position

by J. M. Snyder

  His swim trunks had slipped off his legs and now floated a few feet away, riding the waves like an oil stain. Vic lunged for them but the next surge pushed them out of reach. "Vic," Matt whined, a pout evident in his voice. "My shorts are going away."

  "I'll get them." Vic pushed himself up from the sand and splashed through the water after the shorts. What a way to ruin a moment, he thought. Another few minutes and he would've had Matt right where he needed him, flat out on the sand, stiff and wet and ready to fuck. Now they'd have to get back to that somehow, but the spontaneity would be gone.

  When the tide went out again, Vic stepped on the shorts before they could follow it out to sea. The fabric was soaked, and he wrung it out as best he could before he turned back toward Matt. "They're a little wet..."

  He trailed off when he saw his lover. The moonlight danced in Matt's hair, turning the black curls a deep blue. It sparkled in his eyes, darkening them to a shade of green so primal, so raw, that it grabbed Vic by the nuts and refused to let go. Matt's lips shimmered with stardust and spit. The windbreaker was gone--he sat cross-legged in the sand, every inch of his body bare to the elements. The dark hair covering his dusky skin conspired with the shadows of the night to draw Vic's gaze to the dark thatch at Matt's crotch, from which his ruddy cock rose like a promise. The thick shaft glistened in the moonlight, and Vic noticed a small bottle of suntan oil discarded by Matt's knee. The rich smell of coconuts filled the air.

  In a voice as seductive as warm honey, Matt told Vic, "Lose the shorts."

  He didn't mean the ones in his hands. Vic tossed those aside, then hurried to step out of his own. The moment his dick slipped from his trunks, it stiffened to attention, and Vic's sphincter clenched in sudden need. "Matty," he sighed, discarding his shorts alongside his lover's. The windbreaker followed suit, and Vic almost stumbled over Matt in his desire.

  Facing his lover, Vic eased himself down to straddle Matt. With one foot on either side of Matt's crossed legs, Vic knelt before him. Matt licked out to taste Vic's cock as it passed before him, his tongue leaving a wet stain that trailed up Vic's length, over his shaved pubic mound, over his lower belly to tickle his navel. Then over his firm stomach, his hairless chest--he felt the tip of Matt's dick bump against his ass and he wrapped his arms around Matt's head, hugging his lover to him. "Please," he sighed, wriggling to position himself. "Fuck me, Matty. God, please, I want you."

  Hands slick with oil cupped his large buttocks. Strong fingers eased between his ass cheeks and spread them apart. Matt's cockhead found Vic's trembling hole; the sensation was maddening.

  "Yes," Vic cried, thrusting his own dick against Matt's chest as he hugged his lover close. Now he was the one begging, but he loved every breathless second. His lover's mouth hot against his neck, the hair clutched in his hands, the gentle fingers guiding the large cock into his ass. "Yes," he said again, louder this time. "God, please, yes."

  Minute grains of sand stuck in the oil rubbed against his tender skin as Matt worked his way into Vic, fueling the flames of desire. He loved the stretch, the burn, the discomfort that dissolved the moment Matt was fully inside him. Vic sank to his knees, taking his lover in completely. Turning Matt's face toward his, Vic kissed him, insatiable. ::Yes,:: he thought, his mind a blur of love and lust. ::Fuck me harder, faster, Matty, please.::

  Matt could only hold him tight--in this position, Vic did all the work. He rocked against Matt, back and forth, up and down, and sometimes moving his hips in a circular motion, anything to drive them together. The boardwalk behind them seemed to mimic their frenzy; the screams from the rides grew louder, punctuating the night. Vic's own dick rubbed along his lover's lower belly amid hungry kisses, guttural moans, hands clasping together. Cool sea spray beaded along Matt's legs, Vic's ass. ::Yes, fuck me, yes, Matty, YES!::

  The ocean itself seemed to revel in their love. Every time Matt's cock bumped Vic's prostate, the waves crashed around them, in rhythm with their movements. Hard, pounding, eternal. They came in unison, a perfect way to start their vacation off right.

  * * * *

  Even without their Kama Sutra book handy, Matt had a name for the position. "Lotus Position," he told Vic as they walked back to the motel, hand in hand. "I think it's some kind of Asian flower, or something. I guess it just sounds a little more romantic than 'Fucking with Legs Crossed Indian Style.'"

  Vic didn't care what the position was called--he had loved the grit of the sand on his skin, in his ass. A wild abandon had risen in him, borne from the elements around them, the ocean at his back, the wind on his bare skin, the boardwalk nearby with its lights and sounds. Matt filled the hollow spaces in him; he kept Vic sane. When they returned to their suite, Vic led his man to the bathroom, where they shared a shower amid soapy kisses. Later, they lay curled together in the bed, Vic wrapped tightly around Matt, both mind and body. The distant surf lulled them to sleep.

  In the morning, Vic woke to find Matt grinning beside him. "Hey, lover," he murmured, planting a kiss on Vic's chin. "What do you say we pay a visit to the boardwalk today?"

  "I just woke up," Vic reminded him.

  Matt ducked his head and rolled his eyes. With a sardonic look on his face, he prodded Vic's mind with his own. ::Please? For me?::

  Vic growled, a low sound that only made Matt snicker. Leaning against Vic's side, he kissed him again, on the chest this time, his lips puckering over one hard nipple. "That means yes," he said. "So get up and get dressed, Superman. Time's a-wasting."

  Superman. Vic paused to mentally assess himself. While different sexual positions helped keep their love exciting and fresh, Vic always dreaded the morning after. Would it be something he would have to hide? Something he couldn't control? Or just something inconvenient? How many times had he called into work "sick" because the power du jour kept him from leaving the house? How many times had he had to assure Matt he didn't mind the powers--it was the man he loved, not the abilities he gained during sex?

  But fortunately he felt no different than he had the night before. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It'd be nice if he had no obvious powers this time, though Vic would never admit such a thing out loud or even think it lest Matt took it the wrong way. Vic loved him completely--sometimes the depth of emotion he felt for Matty took his breath away and left him shaking and scared. But his lover was sensitive about the strange ability that gave him the power to empower his sexual partners; rightfully so, Vic knew. So he held his tongue and refused to allow himself to dwell on the powers, good or bad. They came from loving Matt, and they would never inconvenience Vic enough to give up his lover.

  The boardwalk was a raised platform that ran the length of the beach. Shops and arcades lined one side, facing the beach--bookstores, souvenir shops selling sea shell trinkets and T-shirts, candy stores, kite and bike rental shops, fast food restaurants, snack shops, ice cream parlors, nickel arcades with ski-ball and video games and slot machines. Vic took one look at the seemingly endless line of stores and groaned. Matt's grip tightened on his hand as if his lover were afraid he'd turn around and head back to the hotel. Vic was tempted to do just that. "You never said anything about shopping."

  Matt pressed against him. "Don't be a grump." When Vic narrowed his eyes, Matt sighed. "We don't have to buy anything, Vic. We don't even have to go inside every single store."

  "I'm going to remind you of that," Vic muttered. Suddenly, spending the day on the boardwalk didn't interest him all that much. No wonder Matt had such loving memories of this place.

  Fortunately, his lover was content to window-shop, pausing in front of each store long enough to peer in but not forcing Vic to enter. Most of the stores were trinket places, carrying tourist crap made from shells or carved from driftwood. The word WILDWOOD was written everywhere--on postcards, T-shirts, backpacks, sun visors, even flip flops and beach towels. The arcades were dark dens of electronic noise which Matt glanced over. He kept Vic's hand in both of his, and whenever they stopped in front of a display, he
would lean against Vic's arm, a warm, welcome weight, his hands pressing Vic's against the front of his shorts. More than once, Vic had flexed his fingers and goosed Matt, a gentle squeeze that made him bury his face in Vic's shoulder as he laughed. "You're bad."

  "And you're sexy," Vic replied. "Those shorts are so tight, they should be illegal."

  "Are you complaining?" Matt wanted to know.

  Vic grinned. "Hell, no."

  The first shop they did enter was a candy store. "I want some salt water taffies," Matt declared, stepping out of the flow of traffic and pulling Vic along behind him.

  Vic was tired--of walking, of jostling through the crowd, of stopping every so often to look at the overpriced trinkets and souvenirs. He stood his ground and felt Matt tug his arm, the muscles stretching in his lover's grip. For a brief second, it seemed his arm did stretch--Matt continued toward the store without stopping while Vic stayed where he was, his arm pulled taut between them. What the hell...?

  Then someone nudged him from behind, setting him into motion. He closed the distance between himself and Matt, his arm once again normal length. He shook it, turned it over, and stared hard at his forearm, but there was no extra skin dangling from his elbow, nothing odd about his arm or out of place. It had been the sun, perhaps, and the noise and the crowd. He was tired and hot. Seeing things. Because what kind of stupid power would that be, to be able to stretch his arms like, like...

  Stretch Armstrong.

  Matt glanced over his shoulder at Vic, a smile toying around the edges of his mouth. "Buy me some candy, big guy. What do you say?"

  Stepping up behind his lover, he wrapped his arm around Matt's waist. It was normal length, nothing extended or stretched about it--he still reached the same spot on Matt's abdomen he always did when he hugged him close. "I got your candy right here," Vic murmured, planting a kiss on the nape of Matt's neck.

  * * * *

  In line at the register, Matt patted down his shorts before he realized he didn't have his wallet with him. "Are you sure this isn't it?" Vic teased, poking at the front of his shorts, where his dick curled into a thick knot. "You don't have any change in there somewhere?"

  "Now who's the one being bad?" With a laugh, Matt slapped his hand away, then eased a hand into the back pocket of Vic's jeans. His hand curved around Vic's butt cheek, pinched it playfully, then extracted his wallet. "I'll pay you back later," he promised. Mentally, he added, ::In more ways than one.::

  While Matt paid for his candy, Vic glanced around the store. A couple of boys stood behind them, just kids really--brothers, Vic thought, touching their minds to make sure. The tallest was Brandon, age thirteen; the other was Billy, ten. Brandon stared at the cashier, ignoring everything else around him, his eyes dewy and mouth agape. ::Real sexy,:: Vic thought, projecting into the kid's head without meaning to. ::She's gonna eat you up.::

  The boy snapped to attention, startled, and a thin blush crept into his cheeks. Beside him, his brother held handfuls of candy--lollipops and rock candy, Gobstoppers, sour gummies, salt water taffies. He glared at the cashier as if it were her fault they were waiting in line in the first place; Vic thought maybe it was. He wondered how often big brother Brandon dragged his little brother up to the boardwalk, luring him with the promise of candy just so he could drool over the cute chick behind the counter.

  Change clattered to the ground. "Shit." Matt fumbled dollar bills into Vic's wallet and nodded at the floor. "Can you get that for me, babe?"

  Behind them, the younger boy snickered. "Hey Brandon," he whispered, loud enough for Vic to overhear. When his brother didn't respond, he tried again, louder. "Brandon."

  Absently Vic reached for the change. He knew the boy wanted to make a joke about that "babe" comment; Vic just waited for it. When he did, Vic would turn around and glare at him with so much menace in his face, the kid wouldn't even think another homophobic thought for the rest of his life. Come on, I dare you.

  Head cocked as he waited for that first slur, Vic felt his fingers scrape over the coins on the floor and he picked them up, one at a time. Behind him, the kid gasped. "Brandon," he sighed, his voice now thick with awe. "Brandon, look!"

  Vic glanced down. His hand plucked at the coins but he had been too busy listening to the kids to realize he hadn't bent to retrieve Matt's fallen change. Instead, his arm had stretched the length of his body. As soon as he realized it, the skin snapped back into place, knocking the coins to the floor again where they scattered at his feet. So much for no obvious powers.

  "Brandon!" Billy cried. He kicked his brother in the shin and ignored the vicious look Vic threw his way. "Did you see that? Did you? He's like Plastic Man or something. Brandon..."

  For a second, Brandon's gaze flickered to Vic, but whatever he saw there made him avert his eyes quickly. "Billy, shut up."

  "Did you see his arm?" Billy asked. The whisper was gone from his voice, and both Matt and the cashier looked at Vic. Billy dropped the candy in his hands as he held them out to show his brother, "It stretched like this long. I swear. I saw it."

  Vic felt Matt's thoughts touch his. ::What's he talking about?:: Before Vic could answer, Matt rooted through his memory and found the incident. Dull anger flushed through Matt--his usual response when Vic gained a new power. He blamed himself for putting his lover in harm's way. ::When did you plan on telling me?::

  ::Just found out about it myself,:: Vic replied. ::Matty, it's cool. No one will believe him--he's just a kid.::

  Before Matt could object, Vic squatted to scoop up the change. Billy dropped to his knees as well, retrieving his candy. He stared openly at Vic, and when they were close enough to speak, the kid muttered, "I know what I saw."

  "You eat too many sweets," Vic told him. "Lay off the sugar, Billy. You're seeing things."

  Too late, he realized his mistake. Billy's mouth dropped and his eyes widened in surprise. "How do you know my name?"

  Vic stood and smoothed out his jeans, then deposited the change in his pocket. Shopping bag in hand, Matt moved around him to tuck his wallet in his back pocket, too.

  Billy stared up at them, amazed. "Who are you?" he wanted to know.

  With a shrug, Vic assured him, "No one." Then he took Matt's hand and left the store.

  * * * *

  As if determined to keep Vic's arms their normal length, Matt held tightly onto his lover's elbow while Vic carried their bags. The candy store wasn't Matt's only stop. He picked up some T-shirts, a few toiletries he had left at home and probably could've bought cheaper elsewhere, a couple sea shell knick-knacks and postcards for his coworkers. A little after noon, they stopped for lunch--hot dogs dripping with decadent toppings, large icy drinks, and snow cones to finish the meal. Matt also bought a soft pretzel, which he tore into large chunks and fed to Vic as they walked. When they reached Midway, his gaze drifted to the amusement park rides, whose lights flashed ineffectively in the bright sun. "Let's go on a coaster," he told Vic, a childlike gleam in his eyes.

  Hefting their shopping bags, Vic asked, "Where are we going to leave these?"

  Matt's smile faded so suddenly, Vic had to suppress a laugh. "The rides are half the fun."

  "How about we come back tonight?" Vic suggested. He didn't think he'd be hiking the length of the boardwalk again anytime soon, but perhaps they could drive down here later. He wasn't big on crowds and wouldn't mind spending the whole week in their motel room, truth be told, but the carnival atmosphere he'd seen from the beach the night before did appeal to the kid in him. With a smirk, he added, "Unless you wanted to take another walk tonight."

  A slow grin eased across Matt's face. "Can't we do both? Or hey, like the song goes, how about under the boardwalk?"

  Vic liked that idea. "We could find a good spot now."

  Instead of answering, Matt craned his neck back and said, "Or we can ride that."

  He pointed to the giant Ferris wheel Vic recalled seeing as they had driven onto the island. It loomed above the rest of the rides at Mi
dway, taller than any of the roller coasters or log flumes. It rose so high, Vic had to shield his eyes with his hand to look up at it, and still the spokes seemed to disappear in the sun. Before he could reply, Matt had a hold of his elbow, tugging him through the crowds. "Come on," he said, determined. "We'll get a bucket all to ourselves and cuddle at the top."

  Now that didn't sound too bad.

  At this time of the day, the line waiting for the Ferris wheel was pretty long. Matt stood behind Vic, arms around his waist, and leaned against his back, his chin on Vic's shoulder, that bulge at his crotch pressed sweetly against Vic's ass. They got a few disgusted looks, mostly from mothers who hurried to distance their children from two snuggling men, but Vic kept a harsh glare on his face that deterred commentary. When he heard excited whispers behind them, he reached out with his mind to assess the situation and found that kid Billy waiting in line with his brother, still talking about Vic's arm. "That's them," he said. "I saw it, Brandon. His arm was this long. You gotta believe me."

  "You're being stupid," his brother replied. Vic saw that the older boy's thoughts were still on the cashier at the candy store--he didn't even know what his brother was talking about. "Stop pointing or I'll tell Mom."

  With a pout, Billy said, "I'll tell her you dragged me up here just to stare at Jessica." He sang out the name and giggled, then ducked when his brother swung at him.

  Matt's arms around Vic's waist tightened and he blew gently in Vic's ear. "What'cha thinking?"

  Vic glanced behind them at the scuffling boys. "That's the kid from the candy shop."

  "Is he bothering you?" Matt asked. Mirth laced his voice. "Because I can probably take him out, if you wanted. He better step off if he's hitting on my guy."

  Vic didn't find that funny. "He saw me stretch."

  "Oh please," Matt sighed. They took a step forward and found themselves next in line to board the ride. "You said it yourself, he's just a kid. No one's going to believe him."