Aftershots
by elfin
When he left, they were all as drunk as he wished he was; sitting
around the kitchen table, opening their twentieth bottle of white wine
and talking about how liberating it had been - how exciting to have an
attractive young man photographing them, in the nude!
They could have all been twenty-one with the looks of Posh Spice and it
wouldn't have moved an inch of Lawrence's manhood. Chris knew. He
wasn't sure the
other ten did. Not that it mattered.
He went to the pub to inform the husbands it was safe
to return home.
"Congratulations," he said after swigging a
double scotch, "it's a calendar."
He needed the liquor.
~
He fell into his own bed, exhausted, somewhere long
after midnight.
From under the duvet behind him there came a long,
satisfied moan and fingers climbed his neck to rake through his hair.
"Where have you been?" Quiet, low,
shamelessly male.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Umm…" sexy, provocative, "try
me."
Lawrence
signed - arousal overcoming his immediate need for
sleep - and rolled onto his back, eyes closing as teasing fingers
followed the
path of his throat to his collarbone.
"Photographing beautiful, brave, middle-aged WI
ladies... in the nude."
A chuckle. "You're right, I don't believe you."
"You will, when you see the results."
He turned over again, onto his right side, and smiled
into the blue eyes that had waited for him.
"I'm not sure I'm up for it. Not after
that."
"Law, you're always up for it."
A wink, a smile, then those skilled fingers combed
back through his hair, nails scraping his scalp and making him purr.
Ghosting across his throat, flicking, teasing
his pebbledash nipples and then curling around his hips as wet heat
engulfed
him.
He moaned, groaned, sounds he couldn't stop from
resonating from his throat. He thrust
gently up into his lover's mouth, feeling answering hardness against
his shin
and wanting it.
Lifting his head with some effort he made a grab for
narrow shoulders and pleaded softly, "Fuck me."
"If that's what you want."
The first intrusion burned as it always did, but he
forced himself to relax, to take the thick cock as deep as his body
would
welcome. A strong hand wrapped around
his erection and he dropped his head back to the pillow, closing his
eyes and
revelling in the pure and exquisite sensations of being filled and
squeezed,
halved and completed; pinned in place by the silken steel rod piercing
his ass
and the cushioned, fierce grip he was sliding through.
He clawed his own fingers into muscled arms like
pinions either side of him, arching his back, thrusting his hips,
silently
begging for it harder, deeper.
His lover gave him everything he was begging for and
more, hard thrusts in perfect counterpoint to the cage his hand made
for Lawrence 's own weeping cock.
Wet lips found his finally, pressure equalising around
his mouth, demanding tongue sinking into his mouth as his lover's cock
sank
into his body, deeper, deeper, until they both exploded.
"It's been a long time since you've photographed
me."
Lawrence
murmured a string of nonsense reassurances and closed
his eyes, warm in the adoring embrace. But an idea was already forming
in his mind, and it put a slow
burning
smile on his face.
"Brockwurst,"
he
declared quietly. "Tomorrow - go to the
Italian place in
town and buy some Brokwurst."
fin
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