Heat
by elfin
Running hot palms
up along Lawrence's forearms, thumb counting over the dark
bands tied
around his left wrist while fingers steal up under the rolled up sleeve
of the
light brown patterned shirt.
"I want to photograph
you one day," he murmurs softly, putting his lips against his lover's
throat and feeling the pulse racing, hard and fast.
"No chance."
Combing long fingers through
fine, blond hair, "Law, you're beautiful."
"I think beauty was
redefined tonight."
His shirt is lifted from his
shoulders, dropped back to gather at his elbows, his neck gently bitten.
"I bet you made
them
comfortable, made them relax."
"More than they did for
me."
Firm hands stroke
down over
his ribs to the base of his T-shirt and lift it from the waistband of
his
chinos, fingertips teasing the hairs over his belly.
"Aww, poor baby,"
said with a smile, "was it bad?"
"One of them was my
nursery school teacher."
A laugh this time; a rumbling
chuckle into the crook of his neck.
"Ouch."
"Glad you think
it's so
amusing."
One arm wraps around his
waist, one hand pulls at the back of his clothing and teeth nibble on
the top
of his spine.
"Looks like you
survived."
"I've had several double
scotches courtesy of a group of grateful husbands."
"Umm, have you now?" His shirt is removed from his arms, his
T-Shirt lifted from his head, and two hands gently pull and push him
back until
he's lying on the bed, head on the pillow, his lover moving to straddle
his
thighs. "Hope they don't spoil my
fun."
Lawrence rolls his eyes, softly moaning as a palm
brushes his
crotch. "I've spent all evening taking
photos of naked, middle-aged women and I'm supposed to be aroused?"
Firmer hand, metal
against
metal as his fly is unfastened and hot skin meets heated flesh. "You are aroused, Law. No
denying it."
"I am now!"
Trousers
unfastened,
underwear prised down to his knees, a slick hand finally wraps around
his dick,
slowly jerking him off, the rhythm slow, steady, agonizingly slow as
his orgasm
rests at the edge of his consciousness, in his toes and fingertips,
just out of
reach.
Arching into the fierce grip,
silently begging for it; harder, faster,
please!
The rhythm doesn't
change. Lawrence stretches out his fingers over the bed, eyes
screwed
shut, blond head tipped back in the white pillow.
And wet heat engulfs the
weeping head of his dick. The shout - a
string of profanities - echoes around the walls of the dark room and
his lover
swallows every drop he has to give before moving up over his body to
share the
taste with him.
Tongue sweeping
across his
own, the taste of himself in his own mouth.
His groan starts in his chest and is swallowed along with his
seed.
"You are
beautiful."
"Stop it." But he looks up into his lover's adoring
expression with a glazed smile. He's
lucky, and he knows it.
fin
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