Page 27 of Men in Shorts

Suddenly Duncan’s body went rigid, legs locked, until the paralysis gave way to shudders that rose and rose and rose before finally ebbing. Then, after a long exhale, he said, “I am so sorry. That was not planned, I swear.”

“Stop apologizing. It was hot.”

“You’re joking.”

Brodie took Duncan’s hand and shifted it lower. “Does this feel like a joke?”

“Oh,” Duncan breathed as he discovered Brodie’s solid, swollen cock. He began to stroke him through his pajama trousers, slow and steady. “No, it feels pure serious.”

“Seriously amazing,” Brodie said with a sigh, moving to meet the warm, firm caresses.

Duncan kissed his ear. “Can I suck you?”

Brodie shivered at those words, whispered with such pleading, as if Duncan were the one who wanted it more. “Aye,” he said, turning onto his back.

Instead of merely tugging Brodie’s trousers and briefs off his hips, Duncan removed them entirely. Naked from the waist down, Brodie felt exposed and vulnerable, yet strangely powerful.

Duncan bent over and pushed Brodie’s shirt up a few inches, then kissed a slow circle around his navel. Brodie felt himself relax, which made him realize, only now, that he was nervous. Duncan must have sensed it, for he was moving slowly, his palm caressing the side of Brodie’s hip as his mouth drifted lower, lower.

Duncan turned Brodie to lie on his left side. “Here, now I can use both hands. Also my neck won’t get stiff, so I can make it last longer.”

Brodie could only nod, his pulse throbbing in his—well,everything.

A moment later, Duncan began, with one long, slow, wet stroke of his tongue, from the base of Brodie’s shaft up to the tip. Brodie groaned, then slid a hand beneath his pillow, knowing he’d need to muffle his cries if the rest of this felt anything like the first moments.

The second stroke of Duncan’s tongue ended with a teasing swirl over the head of Brodie’s cock, which jerked in response, begging for more. And the third stroke…

The third stroke.God.

The third stroke began at the same place, but instead of traveling upward, Duncan’s tongue went lower, caressing Brodie’s balls.

Brodie pressed the pillow to his mouth and let it absorb the incoherent noises that came from his throat as Duncan continued, worshiping every inch. Brodie’s other hand reached down to stroke the soft, short strands of Duncan’s hair.

If only the room weren’t so dark. He would’ve given anything to see Duncan’s strong, wet lips as they wrapped eagerly around the head of his cock, as they stretched wide to take him all the way in.

Duncan didn’t hurry to make him come, but rather seemed to back off whenever Brodie got close. Brodie had read somewhere that each time onealmostcame, then didn’t, it made the eventual release that much more intense. He hoped he could take it without completely combusting.

Duncan grasped Brodie’s arse, pulling forward to sink him deep into his throat. Groaning, Brodie tightened his grip on Duncan’s hair.

Then Duncan’s fingertips slid between his cheeks. Brodie went still as he realized where he meant to touch him. Duncan hesitated too, as if silently askingIs it okay?

“Aye,” Brodie managed to choke out. “Please.”

Duncan proceeded, his mouth slowing its strokes of Brodie’s shaft, his finger circling the place Brodie had never been touched.

And when he did, with the lightest of tickles, it felt like the rightest touch in the world. Brodie’s moan escalated to a strangled, desperate cry as the electric sensation shot through him. Every muscle seemed to tremble at once, and he knew this time there was no turning back.

“I’m gonnae come,” he gasped.

Duncan didn’t pull away like most lads did. Maybe he hadn’t heard him.

Brodie pushed Duncan’s mouth off of him. “I said I’m coming.”

“I know. I want to taste you. I want to swallow you.” He paused. “If that’s all right.”

Brodie almost laughed. “Sounds affa fine.”

“Sorry?”

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