Everyday Hero Box Set

Seventh Inning Stretch-5

A few days later, Vic knelt backward on their living room sofa. His hands were splayed against the back of the couch, arms locked to hold himself up, and his knees were spread wide. His shirt had been rucked halfway up his back; his sweat pants, pushed down low on his thighs, exposing the pale round cheeks of his ass, now reddened from the attention Matt lavished on them. Teeth marks faded on his skin, and lubricant slicked his buttocks. Matt stood behind him, boxers down to his ankles, and thrust into Vic with a fast rhythm that shook the couch and made the floorboards creak. He rubbed Vic’s back with one hand, alternately pushing his shirt up out of the way and grasping onto the hem, holding it tight as if it were a rein he could use to pull Vic back on him. The other hand encircled the base of Vic’s thick shaft, kneading the hard length as Vic’s nuts bumped against his wrist.

The air was ripe with the stench of s*x, and Vic’s grunts drove Matt crazy. ::Yes, please, harder, YES.:: Matt thrust into his lover, eager to obey.

Maybe it was the moment, or the man beneath him, or the motion of their loving, Matt didn’t know. But a sobering thought struck him out of left field, freezing him in mid-thrust. “Wait.”

Vic growled, a dangerous sound. His sphincter clenched Matt’s d**k tight. “Matty,” he warned, his voice guttural. “I’m almost there.”

Matt pushed against his lover slowly and rubbed his back in a soothing gesture. “I was just thinking—”

Every muscle in Vic’s body bunched in frustration. “Now?” he cried. “Can’t you think later? I’m begging here.”

With a grin, Matt gave Vic’s d**k and balls a healthy squeeze. At the same time, he thrust into his lover hard, driving in as far as he could go. The full weight of his body rested on the tips of his toes. Once in, he moved his hips in little, maddening circles—no real thrusts, just working in farther, settling in, tightening the press of his body to Vic’s.

The effect on his lover was instantaneous. Vic clawed at the back of the sofa, his fingers digging into the upholstery as if the cloth were water. His feet, dangling over the edge of the sofa, curled inward, around Matt’s legs, locking him in place. His back arched, his shoulders stretched, his head lolled back. “Yes,” he cried, so loud that the neighbor beneath them started up his infernal knocking on the ceiling. “God, Matty, yes. f**k me, yes, yes.”

Thank God their landlady in the apartment above theirs was half deaf. Vic’s cries triggered Matt’s release and he came deep within his lover. Through the psychic link they shared, Matt felt both orgasms—the firm muscles flexing around his d**k as he shot a load and the hot rush of his semen through Vic’s bowels, which elicited his lover’s c**k to spasm in Matt’s hand. For a long moment, he held his position, deep inside his lover, as he milked Vic’s d**k until he was spent.

Then Vic rolled away, pulling free from Matt to sink down on the couch. Matt sat on his lap and let Vic pull him into a sweaty embrace. As Vic nuzzled the damp hollow of Matt’s throat, he murmured, “God. You’re amazing.”

Matt smiled, suddenly shy. In Vic’s arms, he turned toward his lover, rested his forehead against Vic’s brow, and let himself be cuddled. Their kisses were soft and tender, not the same ardent, needful, soul-hungry kisses they’d shared before making love. These were gentle, loving—no longer a storm raging between them but a calm, soothing rain. Matt cradled Vic’s chin in both hands and relearned the curves of his lover’s lips, the feel of his teeth, the taste of his tongue. He trailed tiny kisses along Vic’s cheek, over his ears, above his brow. He loved this man, every inch of him, and his after-s*x kisses reiterated that fact, each and every one.

Beneath Matt’s ministrations, Vic kept his eyes closed and his arms tight around his lover’s waist, keeping him near. ::So,:: he said, the words unspoken between them, ::tell me what you were thinking.::

“Hmm?” Matt snuggled against Vic, lost in the afterglow. Then the troubling thought that had bothered him moments before returned, once again stopping him. “Oh.”

He sat back, but Vic didn’t let him go too far. “Oh, what?” Vic asked. He prodded Matt’s mind. “What’s wrong?”

Matt dropped his gaze to Vic’s trimmed goatee. “Nothing’s wrong,” he assured his lover, though the doubt in his voice wasn’t very convincing. “I was just thinking about the game, you know. Next weekend.”

“While we’re having s*x?” Vic stared at him, incredulous. “I can’t string two coherent words together when you’re in me, and you’re thinking about a damn baseball game?”

Matt flashed him a reassuring smile. “You know, first base, second…I was thinking I’d scored big time when I found you, which made me think I was close to getting off, almost like a home run, and I thought—”

Vic silenced him with a kiss. “You think too much. Just get into the zone, like I do.”

“And shout it out to the whole neighborhood when you come,” Matt teased.

A frown crossed Vic’s features. “Am I too loud?”

“No.” Matt covered his face with a flurry of quick, little kisses. “God, no. I love you just the way you are. I know I did good when I can make you squeal.”

“I don’t—”

Matt kissed him. “Hush. You do. It’s sexy and I love it so don’t stop.”

One kiss led to another, and they distracted Matt from the bothersome thought that buzzed through his head like an annoying insect. But Vic picked up on the distraction, and turned his face from Matt’s to interrupt the moment. “So you’re thinking of the game. What about it?”

Resting his head on Vic’s shoulder, Matt sighed. He wasn’t sure how to say what was on his mind without coming off sounding…well, bad. “You know,” he said, his voice low between them, “I just thought, maybe, it might be…I don’t know, wrong? For you to have such an advantage over everyone else on the other teams just because of me.”

Vic glanced at him sharply. “What are you saying?”

“These powers,” Matt explained. “They give you an edge, you know? And maybe that’s not right.”

“They come from you,” Vic said. His brow furrowed, darkening. “From our love. What’s not right about that?”

“Just for the game.” Matt sighed and ran a hand over Vic’s bald head, savoring the touch of smooth skin beneath his fingertips. “I’m not saying they’re wrong—they’re not. I love you, you love me, and the powers come out of that, I know. But maybe we shouldn’t…you know…”

Vic prompted, “f**k?”

Matt grinned. “Just until the game’s over. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve held out for a week, right? And it’ll put us on a more even playing field, that’s all I’m saying.”

Vic stared at him, silent. Matt met his gaze, but for once, he couldn’t read what went on behind those baby blue eyes he loved so much. After a long minute, he prodded his lover’s thoughts and in a small voice, whispered, “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not.” Vic’s arms tightened around Matt’s waist, hugging him close. He kissed the tip of Matt’s nose, and his eyes softened as he stared into Matt’s. “Look, I think you’re right. Not because I’d use the powers to win or anything—”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Matt said quickly.

Vic continued, “But because sometimes I can’t control them. And the last thing I need is some freaky power the day before the final game that blows it for my team.”

“Or my team,” Matt reminded him. “We might win.”

Vic gave him an indulgent grin. “Why am I thinking if we were on the same team, we wouldn’t be having this little talk?”

Matt shrugged and looked away, embarrassed. “I’m just saying…”

Vic quieted him with another kiss.