Page 74 of Men in Shorts

“The fact you’re not just the first,” John said. “You’re the last.”

Then he eased out and in again, the rush of sensations stealing his words. John didn’t care that Fergus had done this with someone else, that he’d oncelovedsomeone else. All that mattered was this moment, and all the moments of the rest of their lives.

In the darkness, John heard every nuance of Fergus’s sounds, the depth and vibration of each breath, how each moan evolved from the one before. As he increased his pace, the noises strengthened, as did Fergus’s grip on John’s arse, his hands urging him forward, deeper, harder.

“Wait.” John slowed to a stop and withdrew, clinging to what was left of his control. “Can we switch?”

“Absolutely.”

Smiling at the delight in his fiancé’s voice, John found the lube container where he’d left it on the other side of the bed. He ran one slick hand over Fergus’s cock while reaching behind with the other to prepare himself. Then he shifted forward carefully, attempting to straddle Fergus without kicking him.

Steadying himself with a palm on Fergus’s chest, John took him inside slowly, marveling how much smoother it went now that they were flesh-to-flesh. Before long, the ridge of Fergus’s cockhead was gliding over John’s prostate, delivering mind-buckling waves of pleasure. He let out a long, shaky moan.

“Yes,” Fergus whispered, sliding his hands up John’s chest. “Take what you need. Ride me until you come.” His thumbs swirled over John’s nipples.

It wouldn’t be long, John could tell. Moving his hips forward and back, urging Fergus deeper each time, he felt that familiar glow swell within him, burning brighter than ever.

Soon the glow spread, pulsing from deep inside, out to John’s skin, then back again. He was barely conscious of moving now, but he kept going, driving Fergus inside him, taking all he could, all he needed.

John reached up to grasp the headboard, then remembered its fragile state. So instead he held on to Fergus, those broad, sturdy shoulders the only anchor he needed.

“Come for me, John.” Fergus took John’s cock and began to stroke. “I want to feel it. I want to hear it.”

“Yes!” John’s fingertips dug into Fergus’s flesh as his own body split apart. His next word was nothing but a jumbled mix of half-syllable sobs, a breathless pleading for this never to end.

“I can feel—oh God.” Fergus grasped John’s hips to steady them, then began to thrust upward, fast and sure.

For the first time, John felt himself fill with Fergus’s thick, liquid heat. The sensation made his own orgasm give a last, lingering encore as they sailed over the edge together.

After he’d finally collapsed onto the bed, John felt Fergus pull him close. He wrapped an arm around Fergus’s waist, using the last bit of strength in his rubbery limbs.

They lay in awed silence for a minute, then John said, “I guess we’ve no need to go back to Club 212, now we have our own darkroom.”

“Shame we’ve no space for a Jacuzzi, though.”

John suddenly wished for light so he could see Fergus’s face. “Are you saying you want to go again?”

“Doyouwant to go again?”

“I’ll go if you want to go,” John said.

“And I’ll go if you want to go.”

John considered it for a moment. Though he’d enjoyed his time in the spa pool with Fergus and the Three Tenors, he didn’t relish the thought of a steam-room nine-way, or having someone watch him and Fergus go at it on a cramped cabin’s inch-thick mattress. Perhaps John was more conventional than he’d imagined himself to be.

“Or,” John said, “maybe we could just pop by the front desk one day and buy a pair of Club 212 underwear.”

“Underwear?”

“Aye, they sell them in the toy shop at the café. Along with cock rings, straps, butt-plug sets, et cetera.”

“Hm. It would be nice to have a souvenir—the underwear, I mean.”

“I know.” They already had all the other stuff. “To commemorate the occasion.”

Fergus gave a low chuckle and tugged John closer. “You realize, of course, we’ll need to invent a fictional engagement story to tell our families. Something sweet and romantic and completely lacking in exhibitionist Jacuzzi wank.”

“Speak for yourself. My mum’ll find it hilarious—minus the wank, of course.” John lifted his chin so he could kiss Fergus’s ear. “The true story’s a good one, though, aye? Seems a shame to keep your amazing underground odyssey a secret.”

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