Don't Read in the Closet volume one (8 page)

The boy whined suddenly and grabbed fistfuls of the sheet beneath
him as Stefan smiled around his cock. Will had let go of Stefan’s cock to grab
the sheet, but his reaction to having his prostate rubbed was even hotter than
the feeling of his hand. Unable to keep still, the boy squirmed against the bed
and spread his legs farther apart. Planting his feet on the bed, he pushed up
into Stefan’s mouth, chasing that all encompassing pleasure, losing all
control.

Stefan took Will’s thrusts and rubbed the small pleasure spot
inside Will as he bucked against the bed. The boy’s cries grew louder,
inarticulate and unfocused while his body locked in a sharp jerk. Stefan tasted
the warm, salty release on his tongue as he swallowed around Will’s pulsing
cock. His own cock swelled and threatened to spill just from the sounds the
beautiful boy made, but he kept himself in control.

When Will finally started to relax and fell back against the
mattress, Stefan released Will’s cock go with a slight pop and the kid groaned.

“That was… I’ve never… Oh my God,” he said weakly and then laid
an arm over his flushed face. “But I wanted for us to, you know…”

“We will, do not worry. That will make it easier,” Stefan
explained as he turned and lay down next to Will. When the older man opened his
arms, the boy scrambled into them and rested his damp face on Stefan’s chest.
He held Will, relishing the feeling of the nude boy against him before pressing
his lips against Will’s ear.

“I want to be so deep inside you,” Stefan whispered before
turning Will onto his stomach. “I want you to be able to feel me there every
minute we have left.” Will moaned at the words and wrapped his arms around the
pillow beneath his head. Stefan rolled off the bed and grabbed a bottle from his
bedside table. They wouldn’t need condoms, not when they would be dead in a few
hours anyway. He wanted to feel every bit of the boy’s ass as he fucked it.

Pouring a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, he capped the
bottle in his hand and set it next to him on the bed. Settling between the
boys’s outstretched
legs,
he felt the soft rounded ass
before him, watching it open beneath his touch. Stefan noticed a tremble in
Will’s legs, and slid one finger into Will as he’d done before while rubbing
the boy’s hip to reassure him.

“Relax, I just want to make you feel good,” Stefan told Will and
felt the boy’s posture relax slightly until he added a second finger. As he
stretched the impossibly tight muscle, Stefan could hear Will’s mewling
whimpers muffled by the pillow. The sounds gradually turned into deep
surrendering moans when Stefan found his prostate once again and stroked it
with a slow agonizing rhythm.

“Are you ready?” he asked Will and the boy nodded. Carefully, he
pulled his fingers out and replaced them with the blunt head of his dick.
Reaching forward, he grabbed the boy’s hips and lifted him halfway onto his
knees. Will’s back curved beautifully in a wanton posture. Stefan held the
boy’s hips, pushed forward and felt his cock breach the tiny entrance. Will
gave a wail of pain and tried to move away from the intrusion.

“Shhhhh… It’s okay, baby, it only hurts for a minute,” Stefan
reassured him, and the boy stopped trying to pull away. The heat around his
cock made Stefan’s legs weak as he fought not to pound the kid into the
mattress.

“I’m going to go a little deeper, just breathe.” Stefan heard
Will take a deep
breath
and saw his back expand
slightly. He gripped the boy’s hips and moved forward, deeper into Will’s body.

“I don’t know if I can… if I can do this,” Will
whimpered
, sounding close to tears. Stefan pulled back and
made several very shallow thrusts, not willing to go deeper until Will was
ready. After about half a dozen pumps, he heard Will’s sounds start to change
again. Instead of a tearful whine, he heard a low agonized groan.

“Is it getting better?” he asked the boy, still not penetrating
him any deeper.

“Yeah… Feels… feels good,” Will
moaned
.
Stefan took the opportunity to fuck him in earnest. Releasing the boy’s hips,
he covered Will’s body, propping himself on his hands, and lost himself. With
his lips next to Will’s ear, he spoke to him in a low breathless voice.

“You feel so good, like you were made for my cock.” Stefan
punctuated his statement with a deep thrust, forcing a deep moan from Will.

“Reach down and stroke yourself for me. I want to feel you come
when I fill you up,” Stefan murmured and felt Will shift beneath him. The chaos
of the streets below, the impending disaster, none of it mattered in that
moment. For them, all that mattered were Stefan and Will. He could still taste
the boy’s last orgasm in his mouth as he drove his hips harder into Will.

“Later, I want to have you lie back in my bed and make yourself
come for me so I can watch. You are beautiful,” he whispered as he kissed the
back of the boy’s neck. Will began to tense, and Stefan knew that Will was
close to coming.

“That’s… it… feel how… deep I…” he managed between labored
breaths just before Will groaned beneath him and his firm young body locked,
his ass clamped around Stefan. Sweat trickled down the boy’s back and Stefan
bit the back of Will’s shoulder as he abandoned himself to the animalistic
coupling. Wrapping his arms around the boy, Stefan drove relentlessly into him,
taking his orgasm from the depths of Will’s soul.

A molten wave of pleasure washed through Stefan and out through
his cock, buried deep in Will’s clenching ass. Tears rolled down his face as he
sobbed in his release. The stress of the day, the fear of their impending
deaths, and the sadness that filled his heart erupted from him and he pressed
his face between Will’s shoulder blades looking for comfort.

They made love for hours under the setting
sun,
each new delight taught young Will what it was to feel another man’s touch. Whether
he rode Stefan or kissed him deeply as he drove his eager cock into the older
man, he thanked God for the privilege.

Stefan woke with his arms around the boy, clutching Will to his
chest. A fiery light burned with the intensity of the sun as it streaked
through the sky.

A moment later, a terrifying shudder ripped through the ground,
and the world went black.

THE END

 
Author
bio:
Erotic fiction is more than just moans, grunts and physical pleasure.
To J.P. Barnaby, erotic fiction consists not only of the mechanics of physical
love, but the complex characters and relationships that lead to those
all-encompassing feelings of need and longing. Sex without context is merely
sex—but sex coupled with attraction, with explosive repercussions—that is good
erotic fiction. J.P. authors all different kinds of erotic fiction including
gay, straight, male,
female
, BDSM, sweet, romantic and
dark.

As a bisexual woman, J.P.
is a proud member of the GLBT community both online and in her small town on
the outskirts of Chicago. She spends her days writing software and her nights
writing erotica, which is, of course, far more interesting. The spare time that
she carves out between her career and her novels is spent reading about the
concept of love, which, like some of her characters, she has never quite
figured out for herself.

Website:
http://www.jpbarnaby.com

Twitter: @JPBarnaby

Selected by Sarah Black

Dear Fabulously talented
Author,

After years of training
and dedication I have finally achieved my dream of becoming the world
heavyweight champion. I have put everything else in my life on hold to make
earning this championship. I thought everything was worth it until I recently
injured myself. Now they say I will have to forfeit my title if I cannot defend
it in my next match scheduled for later this year. I am beginning to wonder if
i can even recover enough to compete ever again, let alone in such a short
time. I have been depressed and dare I say brooding lately. Without my boxing I
am not sure what to do with my life, I have no close friends or family. I
haven't been going to my physical therapy sessions because the PT wasn't
working for me...

Now my manager says he
has a new PT specializing in treatment for my injury. Author do you think it
would be possible for this therapist to pull me out of my depression and get me
ready to defend my title? Can our relationship develop beyond therapist and
patient?

[PHOTO:
These pictures show two very different men. The first is chocolate-skinned,
tight-jawed,
shaven
-haired, with the back-light
gleaming off his curved, toned muscles. His gaze is intent. The second smiles a
little behind his hand, looking at the world through amazing blue eyes. Light
stubble and tousled dark hair grace his model-perfect face. ]

Author
please give
this man his HEA in a sweet romantic story that is light on
the sex.

Sincerely,

Darlene P

Genre:
contemporary

Tags:
athlete, celebrity, hurt-comfort,
medical personnel, non-explicit, sport, sweet no sex

Words:
13,219

SUCKER–PUNCH

by
Sarah Black

For
Darlene P, with much love and good wishes

CHAPTER
ONE

The surgeon was
a beefy guy, with a thick gray beard and a tough handshake. He looked deep into
Jesse’s eyes and shook his hand a little harder than he needed to. Jesse
thought he was probably trying to remember details, so he could talk about it
later,
yeah, I saw that boxer today in the office, you know, the one who
took that mean sucker-punch two months ago. No, he’s
done,
the title’s up for grabs. He can’t even walk straight.

“Triple J! Come
on in, my man. Good to see you. Who’s this, your manager?”

Corry stuck his
hand out, and the doctor shook it. “I’m Corrigan O’Malley. Trainer.”

“I’m Dr.
Shutes. You sure have your boy in good condition, Mr. O’Malley. I see a lot of
boxers, and he is one strong, balanced fighter.” The surgeon paused, and Jesse
could hear the echo in the room—but….

Jesse stared at
him, Zen calm on his face.
Tell me some good news.
“Doctor Shutes, have
you had a chance to look at the MRI?”

The doctor went
behind his desk and sat down, and Jesse and Corry pulled up chairs.

“Um, yes, I
have. Triple J,
how’s
the altered balance? Any change
since last week?”

“No.”

“No falls?”

“A couple of
near misses. But my balance is no better. I list over to one side.”

“Still to the
right?”

“Yeah. So,
how’s the MRI?”

“Well, there’s
a bit of a problem. A tiny lesion, a millimeter or two, but in a place that
makes me suspect it’s the cause of your altered gait. It looks like the lesion
is evolving from blood clot to scar. Probably caused by that right you took to
the head.”

Corry sat
forward in the chair. “Are you saying
it’s
brain
damage?”

“Well, that’s
not a term I usually use. For now, let’s just say it’s a lesion that’s
evolving.”

“So how do you
fix it?”

Jesse couldn’t
move. The words seemed to be echoing in his head, inside his damaged
brain—blood clot. Scar. Lesion. He missed the doctor’s next words,
then
Corry was standing up, tugging on his shoulder. “Come
on.”

“Hey, Triple J.
Would you mind? My son would love an autograph. You’re the champ, after all.”

Jesse reached
down, scrawled his name across the top prescription on the doctor’s
prescription pad, then Corry had him up and walking outside. It was windy, a
cold spring rain blowing against his face. He felt a brick wall against his
back and looked up.

“Did that guy
say something about brain damage?”

Corry sighed.
“Yeah, he did. He’s referred you to this new rehab place, some kind of physical
therapy for balance disorders.” Jesse stared down the street, waiting for it to
tilt suddenly, for some lesion in his brain to rise up and toss him down on his
ass like a baby learning to walk. “Okay, enough. You get your gear on, go for a
run. I’m tired of you moping around like a sad sack.”

Jesse felt a
sudden craving for French fries from McDonalds. He remembered what they tasted
like, salty and greasy and warm, and he wanted some. He hadn’t had French fries
in seven years, maybe longer. His fuel was lean protein, whole grains, enough
organic leafy greens to keep a flock of geese happy. And that fuel, and his
work, kept his engine in tip-top shape. He reached down, ran his hand absently
over his flat, hard belly. “Yeah, I need to work out.”

“Go for a run,
then
meet me back in the gym for some bag work. You’re gonna
go to this new PT this afternoon at four. He made a spot for you as a favor.”

“What kind of
favor?”