Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Tiny Tale Tuesday: Tanner

I wipe the sweat from my brow and stare up at the white disk of sun in the sky. “Go down already.” I’m in the fields until sunset, and the summer heat is just fucking lovely. I didn’t even bother keeping my shirt on. It was too soaked to bother with halfway through yesterday. It’s not like I stand out. All the farm boys go shirtless. My modesty was just getting the better of me.

Well, that and Tanner. Beefy, blonde, always with a big smile on his face. He keeps all of us in line. I never fuck around on the job, but I think about what might happen if I did, and just kept it up. Normally only think about that at night, when it’s all right to imagine getting a spanking for bad behavior, but my mind drifts as I look at him, muscular chest glistening in the noon light. Golden body hair glitters, downy. A trail of it slides below the waistband of his boxers, just visible over the top of his jeans.

Shit. Not the time for those thoughts. Boner makes it hard to do the work properly. But there it is, God damn it. Still, I glance over at him again. Not like I can do more damage.

He looks back at me, smiles even wider, and nods. What does that mean? Not long before I find out. He weaves his way across the field to me, stops maybe a foot away. Well inside my personal space, for sure.

He locks his fingers behind his head, arms out wide, showing off the tufts of hair. “It’s about lunch break, you know.”

“Still an hour, I thought?”

He shrugs and winks at me. “I’m the one keeping things going, and y’all are looking pretty hot working out here.” Another wink—was that a come-on? No. I’m just nuts—then he turns shouts out across the field. “Lunch. Be back to work in an hour. Got some tea in a jug in the back of my truck.” As everyone else scatters, he looks over his shoulder at me. “You like tea?”

I just nod. This is… weird. Definitely weird, and not helping calm down my dick.

He grabs me by the elbow and leads me over to his truck. “It’s a little cooler in the cab.” He reaches into the beat up cooler he always drags with him and pulls out a milk jug full of tea. “If you want.”

Again, just nodding. I know better than to read into it, but still… damn.

Tanner slides into the driver’s seat and I jump into the passenger’s side. As soon as I close the door, he drops the tea on the floorboard and leans across, sucks in my lower lip. His tongue slides into my mouth, thick and warm. The shock fades and I wrap my hands behind his head. We sit like that for a good ten seconds, warmth and softness and the scent of sweat constantly building around us.

When we part, his smile’s the widest I’ve seen it. “Just tell me how far you’ll let me go. No pressure.”

It takes a minute for my mouth to work again, and then I only manage one word. “What?”

“I’m not blind. You think I haven’t noticed you checking me out?” He just shakes his head. “If you want to stop it at making out, that’s cool.”

I consider it a second. Just a second. “Whatever you think is best, boss.”

He laughs and his hand slides down my thigh. “I think the bed of my truck after we all knock off work.”

Yet again, I just nod, let him unzip my fly.

I look at the disk of sun and want it to drop down that much faster.

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Tiny Tale Tuesday: Flames



The flames didn’t burn, only warmed my skin from afar, warmed the bedsheets, threw everything into stark light. Rian towered above me, the brightness dancing across his slender frame. The tattoos across his body seemed to swim and undulate, alive, separate from him. Maybe they were. It wouldn’t have surprised me.

He slipped into the bed beside me. His skin so cool and the fire so warm. He kissed me, scraped tiny fangs along my lower lip. I shuddered and wrapped my arms around him. I wouldn’t keep him forever, but I could manage for now. For a few hours. As fleeting as the flames surrounding us.

His eyes danced with brightness, gleaming gold and silver and brass. Inhuman and perfect. He dragged a thin finger down my cheek and onto my chest. I shivered again, wanted him, needed him. My cock ached, begged me to attend to my needs. And to attend to his. I walked my hands along his back, down to his hips. No sweat, no sign that he’d ringed us in fire.

I slipped a finger into his crack and traced it along the tender skin, felt the tiniest shake when I brushed across his hole. Back and forth, pressing harder each time. Again, he kissed me. His tongue slipped into my mouth like ice, drew circles over my cheeks, lines across the edges of my teeth.

I pushed my finger forward. Resistance. His body tightened as the first knuckle slid in. At last, warmth. Deep in him, my hand pressed all the way to the flesh. I circled my finger through it, pressed against the hard ring of muscles. He moaned and dived down, pushed the sound into my mouth. The air smelled of smoke and he tasted of oak wood and the strong wine we’d drank all night.

Another finger in. He hardened, cock sliding up my thigh. Wetness streaked up as he grew. I reached down with my free hand, stroked across the tip, drew circles there as I worked deeper and harder at his hole. His moaning and whimpering only increased, loudened. It leaked out, no longer contained by our mouths. The flames flew higher and higher, burned brighter. Sweat beaded up all across my body, dripped onto the rough blanket beneath us.

I wrapped my fingers around his shaft, stroked top to bottom and back again. My fingers pumped in and out of his ass. His arms tightened. He bit down on my lip. The colors of his eyes flashed faster and faster, and still the flames burned more and more.

Finally, he pulled away, breathless. A single rivulet of sweat streaked down his cheek, glinting in the flames. “I need you now.”

I nodded. I could settle for a few hours of this.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Tiny Tale Tuesday: Silk

I stroked the bed sheets, feeling cool silk beneath my fingers. Pale silk, like cream, barely visible in the flickering candlelight. I sighed and stared up at the ceiling. Orange played over the plaster ceiling, spots and shadows and light all dancing together.

“Ready?”

I lifted my head. Seth stood there, his cock hard and curled up to his belly button. I traced the lines of his abs, dark skin with even darker shadows. Round nipples stood pert. A shadow of a beard lay across his jaw. Golden-brown eyes fixed into me, bright and alive. Thick lips drew up over brilliantly white teeth.

I nodded at him, lifted my hands and spread out my arms. He stepped forward, steps muffled by the thick carpeting. He lowered himself on top of me, all heat and weight and hard muscle. He pressed me deeper into the mattress, deeper into the heat and softness. He smelled like a wet day, rain and damp earth and wood and leather. Like a man.

His fingertips traced a smooth line down my face, my neck, my shoulder, my chest. He grazed across my nipple, flickering heat and lightning down deep into my core. It constricted, tightening my breath, and left me lightheaded as his hand trailed farther down. Across my ribs and down along my hip. I closed my eyes, fell into silk and warm. He traced the familiar lines, three inked circles. He knew them better than I did, always touched them, kissed them.

Lower still. I curled up the sheet in my fists as he wrapped rough fingers around my shaft. He stroked up and down, shooting waves of ice and fire down into my balls, up my spine. It blossomed out to fill my whole body, then receded. A cycle, intensifying each time. I whimpered and groaned through tight lips. My jaw tightened, forcing my teeth together. My arms lifted, pulling the silk up with it.

And then he stopped. I looked up into his eyes. He still smiled, and he looked unreal in the firelight. Ethereal and shadowy and perfect. “Are you ready for more?”

I laughed and wrapped my hands behind his neck, pulled him down lower to me. “I’m always ready for you, Seth.”