“Kiss me, you big jock dummy, and maybe we’ll find out…”

 Harper watched Banks work through the gears, eyes flickering, face falling, then beaming, licking his lips until he did something very different indeed. He reached over and covered Harper’s hand with his own.

Harper was so surprised by the warmth and tenderness of the moment, he didn’t have time to feel rejected as Banks sank back into his seat and squeezed Harper’s hand even tighter, holding it as he turned his face to smile shyly at him. “Is it okay if we start like this?”

“Believe it or not?” Harper nodded, sitting back and turning his attention to the movie again. “It’s almost better than a kiss, Banks.”

Banks squeezed his hand again, chuckling dryly. “I dunno, Harp, I’m a pretty good kisser.”

“Promises, promises,” Harper murmured, heart hammering and cock dancing in his linen shorts, the velvet skin of his straining shaft delighting in the silken feel of his light summer shorts.

The movie inched forward, time seeming to slow down so that the scenes stretched out like little mini-movies themselves, garish blood on lily white necks, corsets galore and wooden stakes being sharpened by the castle’s staff as the big showdown loomed and, though he should have been relishing in every cheesy, gory, godawful moment of it, all Harper could feel was Banks’s hand, firm and moist and purposeful in his.

They sat like that, holding hands in the dark, until Banks squeezed his one last time and inched away for another Red Vine. He offered it to Harper. Harper demurred, nothing as sweet as Banks and his big, veiny hand in his own. “What if we Lady and the Tramp it?” Banks asked.

“Say what now?”

“You know, like the old cartoon? You put one end in your mouth, and I put the other end in mine and we chew a little until we get so close the only thing left to do is … kiss?”

Harper had never been so turned on in his life, but of course he couldn’t admit that to stupid old Banks. “Can’t you just low down kiss me like every other bicurious bro dawg in the world?”

Banks winked, lifting the knotted piece of strawberry licorice close to his lips. “I don’t know what any of those words mean, but if you want a kiss before this movie ends, you better get to Lady and the Tramping with me before the credits roll, Harp.”

“Fine, Jesus, just…” Banks was smiling, already biting down on the far end of the licorice twist, devilish delight in his deep brown eyes. Harper followed suit, hardly believing this was happening, biting down on the sweet, fruity Red Vine and tasting its sugary sweetness as he watched Banks nibble a little more. Nibble, chew, nibble and, suddenly, they were nose to nose.

“Now what?” Harper chuckled, mouth full of gooey, chewy sweetness.

“Keep. Chewing.” Banks chuckled back, doing just that as Harper tilted his head one way, Banks the other and, in moments, their lips touched, soft and sweet and thick and plump and oh.

Sweet.

Jesus!

Harper swallowed the sickly sweet licorice just before Banks swallowed his very last breath, lips so full and ripe they were like dual sex organs making short work of whatever resistance Harper had been bluffingly offering up all night. They turned, inevitably, in their creaky theater seats, lips pressed tight against one another, Banks gripping Harper’s collar as if to devour him whole. Harper wouldn’t have minded. Not even one little bit. Hell, Banks was such a good kisser, Harper would have gladly offered himself up, body and soul, to taste the kind of liquid heat Banks and his sweet, sticky lips were providing at that very moment.

Banks moved his hands from Harper’s collar to his cheeks, holding his face in place as his lips continued to amaze and delight Harper into a delirious, dripping bliss. Each time Banks let him up for air, his hands drifted down Harper’s body, until they drifted all the way down to his crotch.

Harper stiffened, as if to match the straining hard-on just inside his thin, stylish pants. “Banks, no, I…”

Banks grinned, leaning close and nibbling Harper’s earlobe the same sensuous, thick-lipped way he had his mouth only moments earlier. “This doesn’t feel good?” Banks teased, running long, expert fingers up and down the length of Harper’s obvious hard-on. “You want me to keep doing this, right? Keep doing it long enough so that you beg me to make you come, right?”

“Fuck. Yes. Obviously, I just…” Harper nodded toward the empty theater, bodices ripping and stakes flying on the giant movie screen. “The door. What if … what if…?”

Banks was gently stroking him all the while, ignoring his half-hearted protests, taunting and teasing him into a whimpering, helpless tragedy with each pass of his wickedly talented fingers, as expert in eliciting pleasure as his liquid lips had been.

“So keep your pants on, Harp,” Banks chuckled wickedly, savage breath spilling across Harper’s flushed cheeks as he squeezed his throbbing shaft for emphasis, big hand nearly circling it in the process. “If someone comes before you do, I’ll stop as quickly as I started. Deal?”

Their eyes met as Harper stammered out one last, ineffective protest. “Banks, I… I…”

“Tell me to stop again, Harper, and I will…” Banks punctuated his promise with those smooth, silken lips, so plump and tender against his own that Harper would have agreed to anything just to feel them for another moment longer. Banks seemed to sense it, lingering there for a moment too long each kiss, rendering Harper as breathless as he was helpless.

“But I’m really good at making people happy,” Banks assured him between tender, thick, breathless kisses, every syllable another rasp against Harper’s gaping mouth. “And there’s no one I’d rather make happy right now than you, Harp. So … let me? Please?”

Harper merely nodded, helpless to say more lest Banks hear the squeak of vulnerability in his trembling voice. Banks beamed and, with a lick of those same, wicked lips, slid his hand up Harper’s shaft and, deftly yanked the drawstring wrapped around his waistband free. The pants loosened, Harper’s cock literally lifting the soft, thin material away and giving Banks a glimpse of the smooth, hairless realm below.

From succubus to sinner in moments flat, Banks was suddenly incredulous. “Jesus, Harper, you went commando? On our first fucking date?”