by David Connor
Atticus answered by pulling at the string on Rohan’s swim trunks, and then licking his lips when the shorts fell to the sand. “I l-like this p-page.”
With their nude bodies one atop the other, Rohan, looking down, ran his fingers through Atticus’s dark hair and stared at him.
“W-what?”
“I’m just noticing how handsome you are.”
“S-stop.” Atticus covered his face.
“And your hairy hand.”
“There’s h-hair all o-over me. Y-you’re just noticing n-now?”
Rohan purred, or maybe it was a growl. “I know. I’m not sure how much I’ve looked at you with my eyes. I was too busy looking down at my feet…and seeing you with my heart.”
The only appropriate response to a statement like that was a kiss. Afterward, though he’d initiated, Atticus said, “Ooh. Aww,” and that made Rohan laugh right into him.
“Are you going to do that every time we kiss? Forever?”
“I think I might,” Atticus whispered.
Naturally, their lovemaking included some thumping, drumming, and finger tapping beats.
Tap, tap, tap.
Rohan kept rhythm atop Atticus’s head as it bobbed up and down while tending to Rohan’s hard dick. Later, Atticus played on Rohan’s neck, the sides, where he could feel Rohan’s racing heart as he thrust in and out, filling Atticus inside. Whether or not it was done consciously or simply because Rohan always had the music in him, the drumming on Atticus’s lower back and hips on tempo with their fucking when they changed positions had Atticus loudly groaning into one of the brand new pillows that had been brought in.
“I think passersby might be able to hear our joyful noise,” Rohan teased.
“They h-haven’t heard n-nothing y-yet.”
Coming together yet another way, Atticus’s thick, stiff cock and fleshy ass provided the beat as he bounced up and down, his erection thwacking against Rohan’s gut. Sweaty skin pounded against sweaty skin each time his ass met Rohan’s lap, plunging the ecstasy of Rohan’s cock in deeper and deeper.
“How do you say happy New Year in Spanish?” Rohan asked breathlessly.
“Um…” Atticus couldn’t concentrate on words. “Feliz A-a-ano Nuevo-oohh!” It ended as a vociferous groan of pleasure as Atticus came all over Rohan hands free.
“That’s fucking hot!” Rohan barely spoke the words before he arched up into Atticus, throbbing and twitching inside him with orgasm.
“Wow.” Atticus was panting as he rolled off Rohan to settle beside him. “That w-w-was so m-much b-better than wham, b-bam, th-thank you w-whatever y-your name is.” Though Atticus bit his tongue, knowing of all the things he could have said, he’d picked the worst possible one, Rohan laughed.
“Glad to hear it.”
“I should have c-come up with something sweet and romantic,” Atticus whispered. “Like how amazing you are, how handsome, sweet, sexy and w-wonderful.” He spoke right into Rohan’s ear.
“You’re all those things, too. See. I suck just as bad at after sex talk.” Rohan checked his watch. “There are still four and half hours until New Year’s. Maybe we have time to do it again and think of something better.”
Atticus rolled back on top of him. “Y-you said it b-before.” He put his lips to Rohan’s. “We d-don’t need words.”
He tap-a-tap-tapped the whole length of Rohan’s nude body with the percussion line for the 12 Drummers’ arrangement for “Auld Lang Syne,” following each brush of the fingertips with mouth and tongue. Licking at sweat and semen, he made Rohan shudder over and over, and then, when Atticus put his mouth on Rohan’s dick again, Rohan moaned.
After ringing in the New Year with more kisses, more thumping, and sex that tested the shocks on the van, Rohan and Atticus fell asleep entangled in the blanket and each other. Awaking in time to enjoy the sunrise, just the two of them, there was no need to dress as they stood on the shoreline, allowing the water to tease their ankles and toes.
A message from Murphy awaited them upon their return to the van.
Murphy: Happy New Year, guys! I was thinking about our shows for next Christmas already and came up with a sample program. Let me know what you think. Same lineup? Seems like fate to me. Let’s do this!
Atticus scrolled down. He smiled.
Fourteen Drummers Drumming
Manny
Emery
Rohan
Rick
Yoshi
Carlton
Hewlett
Rob
Ixaax
Stone
Terrel
Murphy
Atticus
Spud
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
THE END
ABOUT DAVID CONNOR
David has always wanted to be a daytime drama writer. His books are like soap operas in print, filled with intrigue, romance, comedy, and drama. His imagination refuses to shut off even when he sleeps. Many of David’s plots and ideas come from nightly dreams and nightmares. He lives in upstate New York with a kitty cat named Molly and the spirits of several doggies and kitties who have passed on. David enjoys writing (of course), puttering in the garden, and naps for new story ideas.
ABOUT E.F. MULDER
E.F. and her writing partner, David Connor, have always been soap opera fans. Living in a small New York town, they both turned their love of the genre to books and short stories with romantic, soap opera-ish themes. Nothing beats a cliffhanger, a twist, a good mystery, and maybe an evil twin.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!