a halt halfway down the dark hallway, pressed his forehead against the wall and closed his eyes.
Is this what he wanted? To be miserable for the rest of his life? Is this what he would have wanted?
Almost unconsciously, March wrenched his shirt and sweater over his head and tossed them aside. His fingers drifted to his nipples and they tightened at his touch. Oh God. March fumbled with the button then the zipper on his pants and yanked them down. He wasn’t wearing shorts.
He could almost feel an exhalation across the wet tip of his cock, the sensation enough to make him shudder. His imagination on full power, Caleb’s face in his mind, the teasing breath came again, followed by the impression of strands of silky hair brushing his thighs.
Would he let me fuck him? Would I let him fuck me?
March groaned. What was he doing with his life?
Nothing.
This could have been real, not something in his head. Caleb could have been on his knees in front of him. Why had he driven out of the pub car park? Scared he’d lose the memories he cherished? He wouldn’t let that happen.No man would make that happen.
March wrapped his hand around his dick and pulled the rigid shaft down over his swollen sac, rocking it into his balls. His knees threatened to buckle. Oh fuck, oh fuck. He imagined Caleb’s warm, wet tongue slowly licking from the base to the tip, before dipping into the slit, and March clenched his butt cheeks. Orgasm gathered like floodwater surging against an unstable dam. Pressure built.
March imagined pushing his cock into a hot, tight hole, dragging it out, driving it back in. He tried to picture a stranger’s face instead, but Caleb’s pale, seductive features were the ones he saw, those dark eyes staring unblinking at him. Oh shit. No. Tension sank its claws into the base of March’s skull and triggered a flash of lightning down his spine. He just managed to cup his hand over the head of his cock before he came, his stomach wrenching with each jet of come.
The moment of pleasure was fleeting, and as it faded, disappointment took over, accompanied by a large measure of guilt. He didn’t deserve to be happy. He didn’t deserve to be alive.
March hobbled to the bathroom, his pants around his ankles, trying to not spill what was in his hand. He tripped and fell. He wasn’t hurt, but his come ended up all over the floor and his pants. He somehow thought that if Caleb had been there, they’d have laughed. As it was, March sank deeper into despair.
When he’d cleaned up, he padded into the kitchen in his workout pants and spotted the box of biscuits he’d found on the doorstep. He opened it and ate three chocolate chip cookies, one after the other. That didn’t help his depression. He was an idiot. He was reading far too much into this. The guy was grateful he’d been rescued. He’d taken the trouble to come and tell him. March might have done the same.
Thank fuck Caleb didn’t know March had heard him ask him for a drink. He probably wasn’t even in the pub.
He retreated to his gym, put on his headphones and lost himself in the way he usually did when something stupid wasn’t available. Mindless repetitive exercise.
Chapter Nine
They knew it wasn’t much of a plan. What Baxter didn’t know was that Tye intended to change places with him. Tye had given Liam little smiles when Baxter couldn’t see. Liam liked him best. He licked his lips when he looked at Tye. He didn’t when he looked at Baxter.
Once Liam agreed to them having a shower, they had to make sure they went to the bathroom together. Baxter warned him what he thought Liam’s price would be. A blowjob. Maybe more than that. He and Baxter had argued about who’d do it and how to do it, loud enough for Liam to hear, and Liam had almost pissed himself laughing when he’d brought their food. But the argument had been part of the plan. The how to do it had been deadly serious.
Baxter hadn’t sounded disgusted. He’d sounded as though
Is this what he wanted? To be miserable for the rest of his life? Is this what he would have wanted?
Almost unconsciously, March wrenched his shirt and sweater over his head and tossed them aside. His fingers drifted to his nipples and they tightened at his touch. Oh God. March fumbled with the button then the zipper on his pants and yanked them down. He wasn’t wearing shorts.
He could almost feel an exhalation across the wet tip of his cock, the sensation enough to make him shudder. His imagination on full power, Caleb’s face in his mind, the teasing breath came again, followed by the impression of strands of silky hair brushing his thighs.
Would he let me fuck him? Would I let him fuck me?
March groaned. What was he doing with his life?
Nothing.
This could have been real, not something in his head. Caleb could have been on his knees in front of him. Why had he driven out of the pub car park? Scared he’d lose the memories he cherished? He wouldn’t let that happen.No man would make that happen.
March wrapped his hand around his dick and pulled the rigid shaft down over his swollen sac, rocking it into his balls. His knees threatened to buckle. Oh fuck, oh fuck. He imagined Caleb’s warm, wet tongue slowly licking from the base to the tip, before dipping into the slit, and March clenched his butt cheeks. Orgasm gathered like floodwater surging against an unstable dam. Pressure built.
March imagined pushing his cock into a hot, tight hole, dragging it out, driving it back in. He tried to picture a stranger’s face instead, but Caleb’s pale, seductive features were the ones he saw, those dark eyes staring unblinking at him. Oh shit. No. Tension sank its claws into the base of March’s skull and triggered a flash of lightning down his spine. He just managed to cup his hand over the head of his cock before he came, his stomach wrenching with each jet of come.
The moment of pleasure was fleeting, and as it faded, disappointment took over, accompanied by a large measure of guilt. He didn’t deserve to be happy. He didn’t deserve to be alive.
March hobbled to the bathroom, his pants around his ankles, trying to not spill what was in his hand. He tripped and fell. He wasn’t hurt, but his come ended up all over the floor and his pants. He somehow thought that if Caleb had been there, they’d have laughed. As it was, March sank deeper into despair.
When he’d cleaned up, he padded into the kitchen in his workout pants and spotted the box of biscuits he’d found on the doorstep. He opened it and ate three chocolate chip cookies, one after the other. That didn’t help his depression. He was an idiot. He was reading far too much into this. The guy was grateful he’d been rescued. He’d taken the trouble to come and tell him. March might have done the same.
Thank fuck Caleb didn’t know March had heard him ask him for a drink. He probably wasn’t even in the pub.
He retreated to his gym, put on his headphones and lost himself in the way he usually did when something stupid wasn’t available. Mindless repetitive exercise.
Chapter Nine
They knew it wasn’t much of a plan. What Baxter didn’t know was that Tye intended to change places with him. Tye had given Liam little smiles when Baxter couldn’t see. Liam liked him best. He licked his lips when he looked at Tye. He didn’t when he looked at Baxter.
Once Liam agreed to them having a shower, they had to make sure they went to the bathroom together. Baxter warned him what he thought Liam’s price would be. A blowjob. Maybe more than that. He and Baxter had argued about who’d do it and how to do it, loud enough for Liam to hear, and Liam had almost pissed himself laughing when he’d brought their food. But the argument had been part of the plan. The how to do it had been deadly serious.
Baxter hadn’t sounded disgusted. He’d sounded as though
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