Thursday 7 March 2013

[Stuck on Rewind-2] Taking a Shower

Hearing the click of the door as he crossed to the bathroom, Ashton glanced up and gaped when Lance came waltzing into the room, absolutely naked. He'd never fucked his friend, but Jesus the man was gorgeous, from his rounded ass and sleek muscles to the heavy cock sitting up waiting to be licked. Ashton heart pounded. He never could find the words to describe the perfection of Lance's face, wet tendrils of ash blond hair caressing his chin.

Lance noticed his stare and surprise lit his cornflower blue eyes, then a naughty smile curled his full lips and he made a bee line for Ashton.

"Hey beautiful. Saved you some hot water," he drawled, gaze traveling leisurely over Ashton's body. He stepped closer and leaned in to nibble Ashton's ear. "We could have showered together if you want to conserve water."

Ashton pushed him back with a laugh, though his heart fluttered at how fucking good Lance smelled. But starting an affair with his mercurial roommate was not a good idea, on a million levels.

"I can manage the water bill just fine, honey," he quipped, distracted by a pale nipple on his friend's sculpted chest. Lance didn't do body art, but Ashton could picture a tiny silver hoop through the pink flesh. Breathless, he touched the small nub and watched in awe as it hardened under his fingernail.

Lance's soft moan recalled him and he snatched his hand away, his gaze sweeping up to meet blue eyes full of interest. As if he couldn't help it, Lance pressed a kiss to Ashton's forehead. Ashton felt the quick beat of Lance's heart when the man pushed against him, the hard length of Lance's prick against his hip. "Why won't you fuck me?" Lance murmured, raining light kisses on Ashton's cheeks. "You've wanted to for years." Laughter laced his voice, thick with lust. "I wouldn't mind."

It took all Ashton's willpower to nudge the tempting man away from him. "Not a good idea, honey."

Lance gave him a strange look, and then a dark flush crept up his neck. He glanced away, but not before Ashton caught the hurt in his eyes. "I understand."

Ashton grabbed his arms, needing to stop that train of thought right now. "No, I don't think you do. When I'm involved I don't share. You know that. Do you really want to give up your other men for me?"

"We don't have to be involved…"

"Lance! You're my best friend. Of course we'd be involved." He tucked Lance's light hair behind his ears, smiled into his blue eyes. "At least I'd be."

A small grin twitched Lance's lush mouth. "Me too. I'm already half in love with you."

Ashton rolled his eyes, trying for playful. "Oh god. I'm taking a shower." He walked away, praying Lance wouldn't stop him. It was one thing to say no to the lovely man. Quite another to ignore the beautiful cock drawing circles on his hip in pre-cum.

"Seriously, this is best," he told the ache in his balls as he closed and locked the bathroom door. The steamy air enfolded him in warmth, reminding him of the sweat and heat and smell of sex, limbs twined and writhing on the sheets. He turned on the shower and climbed quickly in. Lance said he'd take care of himself in the shower. He pictured Lance there now, sexy body leaning against the tiles, heavy dick in hand. Lance liked to bottom, Ashton top, but once in a while Ashton liked a thick cock in his ass. He imagined being shoved against the wall, Lance pushing by slow inches into him, stretching him open deliciously.

Fuck! His orgasm stalled in his balls and he grabbed his prick, jerking hard to bring the fire surging through his cock to splatter against the tiles in gooey streams. He slouched against the glass door until the pleasant weakness left him, though he still tingled head to foot.

He rinsed the evidence of his delight down the drain, and laughed suddenly as he recalled Lance's words from earlier. "Sorry boss-man," he murmured snidely. "Guess I don't have anything for you this morning after all."

Thoughts of work sent him scurrying to scrub up, rinse, and get the hell out of there before he was late, again. A slight shiver ran through him, tempting him to dawdle just long enough to find out what punishment Mr. Kent might think up in retribution. Was it still sexual harassment when the secretary was a willing victim?

Ashton shut down that thought. "Don't fucking go there," he warned his quickly beating heart, and hoped for a clean towel when he slid open the door and noticed the overflowing hamper.

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