When I lead him to the bedroom, he stops at
the table by the door and snags the gun. He carries it in a
careless way that frightens me, one finger through the trigger
loop. In the bedroom, I click on the lamp beside the bed as he
drops the gun on the night stand. While he shrugs out of his
T-shirt, I nudge the cold plastic grip on the gun so the barrel
aims away from the bed.
Ricky’s pants hit the floor, then he sits
down on the bed in front of me, hands straying to my open fly. With
eager fingers, he hooks onto the sides of my jeans and tugs both
them and my underwear down. As I step out of my pants, I shrug off
my shirt, tossing it aside. Then I lean him down on the bed, our
erections thickening between us.
This time I’m in control. I hold his hands up
above his head, pinni
