STORY EXCERPT

“Like this?”

Simon peeked out from behind his favorite camera, smiling. And not just to put Lily at ease. He shook his head and muttered playfully, “That… Lily, you haven’t moved from the last pose.”

“Well…” She clucked her tongue, the complimentary terry cloth robe emblazoned with Premiere Photography he gave to each client dripping just over one smooth, suntanned shoulder. “Can you show me?”

“I can.” Simon lowered his camera to his chest, still dangling from the same strap his mother had given him back when he’d joined the Photography Club at Lake Sapphire High years ago. “If you’re okay with that?”

He inched closer to where Lily stood, one knee on the burgundy settee, enticing skin bare and smooth against the soft velvety material.

“I just asked you, didn’t I?”

Simon sighed. This was so much easier when Chaz was in the room with him to smooth things over with his mostly female clients. “Okay, well, just a few ground rules, since it’s your first time…”

He stood beside her. Lily’s eyes glowed darkly in the glow of the silver screens he’d used to diffuse the harshness of the lights he needed to use this time of day. “Okay?” she murmured in that same curiously knowing tone that implied she might actually be in control at the moment. 

“Usually my office manager, Chaz, is here,” Simon explained hesitantly. “She’s better at most of this than I am, but… this is a safe place, Lily. This building. This studio. This process. All safe. If I’m going to touch you, or move something, or adjust a strap or even just tweak your position to catch the light? I’ll tell you first. Warn you and make sure you’re good with it, okay?”

“It’s fine, really,” Lily murmured, so radiant in her sheer thong and bra set he could hardly breathe. “I already feel safe. Thanks to you, that is.”

“Safe is one thing,” Simon murmured, hands at his side as he struggled not to admire the way Lily’s nipples pressed so eagerly against the sheer, no-cup bra, little more than a saucer holding up her pert, pointy, delicate breasts. “Comfortable is another.”

“But I am comfortable, Simon,” she murmured, turning slightly so that the robe fell to nearly where he wanted it in the first place. “In some ways, I’ve never felt more comfortable.”

He chuckled. “You’re braver than I am then,” he murmured, gently lowering the robe as her eyelids fluttered erotically with the slightest touch. He wondered, idly, what her bare skin might feel like beneath his fingertips, not just a glancing blow but a long, silken, tender touch, the kind lovers might share. Then he silenced the thought out of sheer unprofessionalism, if not outright embarrassment. 

Keep it in your pants, Simon warned himself silently.

She turned just then, raking her eyes over his usual getup. “What, you’ve never done this yourself?”

Simon’s eyes bulged almost cartoonishly in reply. “Hell no!”

Lily giggled unexpectedly, a sensual thing, rich and deep like the deep green of her eyes or the complexity of her glowing, copper skin, tan lines rich and creamy beneath her so-called panties, a bush so thick and enticing he yearned to run his fingers through it. She turned, ruining the pose he’d been trying to get right for the last five minutes straight.

“Lily!”

“Sorry, I’ll do it right next time. It’s just… you know what would really make me feel comfortable right now, Simon?”

He snapped his fingers, nodding toward the dorm fridge beneath the clamp light in the corner. “Shoot, I forgot. Some clients like a little drink first. I’ve got some wine if you’re interested? Beer? Something a little… harder?”

Lily shook her head gently. “I’m interested… in you feeling a little vulnerable, Simon.”

Simon gulped audibly, struggling not to drink Lily in like a glass of fine wine. Make that, the finest wine. “Oh, believe me, I am.”

“No, I meant… as vulnerable as I am right now.”

“How?”

“By stripping to your skivvies, that’s how.”

ADULT EXCERPT

“Thank God!” Hank gushed, slipping from his dress shirt and tossing it aside. 

His heart was pounding with anticipation, but no harder than it had been all day, Hank wondering if Simon would show in the first place and then, when he did, how he might react to Hank and Lily playing dress up and sipping champagne. 

He stood, shirtless, panting for some reason, whole body on high alert as Simon watched him, eyes wide and lips damp. Their eyes met as, gently, Hank reached out to loosen Simon’s tie. “We good?” he asked, his voice husky.

Simon nodded then glanced over Hank’s shoulder. “Is… Lily? I mean…”

Hank followed his eyes, seeing the pure, naked, raw desire in Lily’s gaze. As if able to hear them, she nodded, grinned, and purred, “Don’t mind me, boys. You get started without me, and if you don’t mind, I’ll join you when I’m… ready?” 

As if on cue, they both watched while Lily hiked the hem of her skirt up, past her glistening thighs, ripe and pale, to the sheer panties she’d worn in her photo shoot for Simon. Sheer and tight, they clung to her ripe, plump pussy, caressing the thick pubic thatch above the puffy pink folds and letting Hank know that she was just as excited about the prospect of the three of them being together as he was.

And, from the looks of it, as excited as Simon was. 

“See?” Hank murmured, turning back to Simon with a shit-eating grin and finding his future lover’s skin trembling beneath his fingers. “Looks like we’re all getting the present we want this year, huh, baby?”

Simon squirmed, face aglow with a blush and desire. “I… I like it when you call me baby.”

“Yeah?” Hank smoothed his fingers along the bulge in Simon’s dress pants. “I can tell… baby.”

Simon’s eyes rolled back in his head, his pretty young face a mask of sweet ecstasy as Hank felt their lover’s cock leap even through the material of his dowdy khaki slacks. “Careful, slugger,” he teased, inching his hand away despite every cell in his body wanting to tear those pants off and stroke him to completion, right then and there. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves, right?”

Simon nodded, licking his lips as Hank fumbled with his belt buckle, tugging it free even as Simon wriggled from his shirt. “You really want this, huh?” Hank murmured over the sound of Simon’s zipper slithering downward, tracing, yet not quite touching, the outline of his thick bulge.

“I’ve wanted it since our first kiss, Hank,” Simon croaked. “Have… haven’t you?”

Hank paused, Simon’s pants halfway down his trembling thighs. Their eyes met before Hank finally nodded. “I thought I’d forgotten,” he confessed, fingertips whispering back up Simon’s bare thighs, pants stuck just above his knees as if trapping him in place. “I thought I’d shoved it out of my mind. Then I saw you in that café the other day, Simon, and… and… it all came rushing back.”

“How could you forget?” Simon squeaked, sounding wounded and scared in equal measure.

Hank shook his head. “I didn’t forget, exactly,” he insisted, hands eagerly exploring Simon’s slight, toned body as they both shivered with desire. “Just… shoved it down to someplace safe and quiet. For later, maybe?”

“And now?” Simon grunted as Hank’s fingertips drifted over his straining bulge. 

“Now it’s like we’re back in that dugout, Simon. Lips inches away from one another’s, able to do now what we couldn’t do then, right?”

Simon nodded encouragingly. “Which is?” he prodded, Hank’s fingers drifting to drag along the waistband of his bulging boxer shorts. 

“Love each other, right?” Hank grunted, tugging the boxers gently down. “Love each other until we figure out what all this is…”

They kissed then, a combustion of lips and teeth and tongue and desire, set to the music of soft, relieved sighs and urgent grunts demanding more. So. Much. More…

Hank’s hands stayed busy, tugging the boxers down to meet the waistband of Simon’s slacks, both locking his knees in place as Hank took Simon in hand, six stiff inches of hot, wet, throbbing desire he’d been wanting to hold since their first photo session together two years ago. 

“Fuck, you’re wet, baby,” he moaned between feverish kisses and breathless promises of more to come. “So. Fucking. Wet.”

“Wet for you,” Simon insisted, glancing feverishly over Hank’s shoulder. “Wet for Lily. Wet for… this… all of this, every moment.”

Hank nodded, hardly believing they were here. Now. In Lily’s sunken living room of all places, his girlfriend on the settee, dress hiked up to her curvy hips as he took Simon in hand. Finally. At long, fucking last!

“Tell me, baby,” Hank insisted, guiding his fist gently up and down Simon’s compact, leaking cock until his hand swallowed it whole. Gripping it, squeezing it, enrobing it in heat and warmth and, above all, reassurance. “Show me, baby. Show me how wet I make you. Show me how I can make you come just like this, your naked back against the wall, pants down around your knees, your dripping cock in my hand…”

“Jesus!” Simon gasped between feverish kisses and Hank’s tender, achingly slow jerking, skin aglow with sweat and lungs bursting for air. “Were you always this… naughty?”

“Never,” Hank admitted. “I just… you’re my first boy, Simon. First boy kiss and, now, first boy dick dripping in my hand. I guess… I guess I’m making up for lost time.”

“You and me both,” Simon grunted in more ways than one, pressing into Hank’s hand with a long, slow, eager, velvet thrust that filled Hank’s fist with flesh and flame. “Jesus, baby, I… I…”

“It’s okay,” Hank murmured encouragingly between soft, aching kisses. “We’ve got all night for this. All night to come and recharge and come again and again. You, me, Lily, just… come for me, okay, Simon?”