Saturday 4 October 2014

#MySexySaturday (12)


This is one of those times when it seems like they are asking too much of such a short snippet. Yet from the moment I started reading it, one book, one scene has come to mind. I’m just hoping I’ve never done it before, so if I have, my apologies.

Eamon and Chris were, to date, my most frustrating couple, but they’re the ones that came to mind and so here’s there first sex scene, it was a little different then what both men thought they were getting into, but the result becomes their reward.

 
Gripping Chris’ hands tightly before they could work at the zipper in his jeans, Eamon looked down to see the slight pout of Chris’ lips. It was that part of him Eamon knew, because it shuddered as Chris realized what he was doing. He then sat him there,  his wrists caught together, his eyes an innocent glow that didn’t seem right on his face.
“What now?” Chris asked after a long pause of them looking at each other. It seemed, no matter how obedient Chris thought he was being, he’d never actually had to wait all that long before he was told the fantasy and then shoved face down in the bedding. That was abundantly clear. And since Eamon’s whole sexual history was rung with patience and silence, and waiting, it was clear who was always going to win at this game.
“Now,” he told Chris, with a good hard squeeze of his wrist, getting the man’s attention. “I don’t give a shit about the past.” He honestly didn’t want to know anything more about it, even as he was resigned to the fact that he would have to get it all out there if he planned on a life with—oh, fuck. A life? With…a fucking life.
He cleared his throat when he realized he couldn’t afford that type of panic, not now. Not yet. Maybe later, when he gets this over with. As if it was, no matter how much he had thought of Patrick, no matter how hesitant he was over the idea of sex with Chris, all because of his fear of losing Pat again, he was still harder than he’d been in a long time. Years, in fact. Long before he’d sat in that chair and been told his partner wasn’t going to be around all that much longer.
The opening of the zipper had been rubbing at the underside of his cock since he’d opened it, and the slight bit of metal teeth had only been small distractions, cooling him down slightly, but never enough to get him to soften.
Now, what was he saying to Chris? Oh, right. “I don’t need a gay fantasy. Hell, I don’t even want you to be Pat. I want you, Chris, that fiery boy who needs so desperately to be punished for teasing me all this time.”
Eamon barely heard the soft moan escape from Chris’ lips, but he defiantly saw the relaxed dive of his shoulders, and the flexing and pull of his hands as he tested Eamon’s hold.


And onto the pimping and other random fact linked to this hop