Mid Week Tease: Fine Dining #MWTease #MidWeekTease
Okay, I don’t have any sex scenes from Deep Water to offer today (they are taking their bloody time about it) so instead let me offer you an amuse bouche from my short story “Fine Dining” which will be appearing in Evernight Publishing’s upcoming anthology Uniform Fetish: Manlove Edition.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
James turned onto his side and sank his free hand into Gustav’s hair. “You’re wonderful,” he murmured.
Gustav captured his hand and pulled it down, kissing the palm. “Non. Tu es incroyable.” He drew James’s hand down to his groin, then, pressing it against the sizeable bulge behind black twill. “Please, mon cher. If you do not touch me, I will explode.”
Obediently, James pulled down the zipper, sliding his hand inside and wrapping it around a hot, heavy length. It flexed in his hand, eager for attention.
He hesitated. “Show me. Please.”
“Mais oui.” Gustav rolled onto his back and fumbled with his trouser button, finally freeing his cock. It was not overly long but nicely thick, with dark blue veins lacing the ruddy skin of the shaft. He wrapped his own fingers around James’s, pressing them into a tighter grip as they started stroking him together.
James wriggled closer, resting his head on Gustav’s shoulder as he watched their joined hands shuttle back and forth, the sensation of silk over steel searing into his palm. Gustav was uncut and his foreskin allowed enough movement to offset the lack of lubrication. Nonetheless, James gathered the drops of pre-cum bubbling up from the mushroom head on his thumb and used that to smooth the way.
In a few minutes the waiter was growling in gutter French. His hips abruptly jerked upwards, hard. Creamy spatters of semen erupted from his cock, landing on his shirt with a soft patter.
James eased him through the aftershocks, nuzzling his neck and ear. When Gustav’s hand loosened he let go, resting his fingers on the jut of the other man’s still-clothed hipbone. “I’m afraid I made a mess of your shirt,” he said softly.
“Il n’importe pas.” Gustav waved vaguely at the door. “I keep a spare here.”
And indeed, a clean white Oxford shirt hung on the back of the door, with what appeared to be a pair of black slacks underneath. James blinked, wondering why the restaurant manager would let Gustav keep a spare uniform in his office rather than in a locker.
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