Cowboy Position

THE POSITIONS OF LOVE, BOOK VI: COWBOY POSITION

…Matt let a faint smile toy across his face. “Do you know your lips turn pink when you eat?” Vic almost choked. “What?” “They do,” Matt assured him. “I read somewhere that people’s lips turn a darker shade of red when they’re aroused. Yours do it when you eat.” At Vic’s frown, he added, “I think it’s sexy.” Vic’s chewing slowed as he looked across the table at Matt. With a shrug, Matt asked, “What can I say? I like to see a man eat. You like my feet, don’t you? Isn’t that just as strange?” “So, like,” Vic offered, thinking it through, “let’s say we were both naked and eating?” “God,” Matt sighed. The image alone triggered a rush of blood to thicken his dick. With a smile, Vic warmed to the idea. “Or maybe you could lie down and I’ll cover you with…oh, I don’t know. Whipped cream, strawberries, maybe some chocolate syrup. And I’ll lick it all off your flesh—” “Jesus, Vic.” Matt gripped the table as he swooned at the thought of his lover above him, that goatee of his white with cream, that tongue tickling over Matt’s body as Vic ate his

way down his chest, over his stomach, along the length of his dick…suddenly his pants felt a size too small, and Matt had to resist the urge to strip off his clothes, climb onto the table, and lay himself bare for Vic’s consumption…

ALSO BY J. M. SNYDER Beneath A Yankee Sky The Bonds Of Love Crushed Matching Tats Persistence of Memory The Powers of Love The Regent’s Knight Under A Confederate Moon The Positions Of Love Book I: The Positions Of Love Book II: Two Pillars Position Book III: Clasping Position Book IV: Hammock Position Book V: Two Dogs Position Book VI: Cowboy Position Book VII: Kneeling Butterfly Position

THE POSITIONS OF LOVE BOOK VI

COWBOY POSITION

BY J. M. SNYDER

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

COWBOY POSITION AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2008 by J. M. Snyder ISBN 978-1-60272-264-4 Cover Art © 2008 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

HAMMOCK POSITION

COWBOY POSITION Evenings at the Braunson-diLorenzo apartment were usually a quiet affair. Matt always got home from work first, and after a quick shower to rinse the chlorine from his hair and body, he’d start on dinner. He loved to cook, thanks to the Italian side of his family, and he loved watching a hungry man eat a meal he’d prepared. There was something sensual, almost animalistic, in watching a handsome jaw chew, or strong teeth bite into a hunk of bread, or a thick tongue lick out to guide an overflowing fork between pinked lips. His lover Vic ate with a single-minded determination, refueling the superhuman metabolism that Matt gave him. Often during dinner Matt would stop eating long enough to watch Vic savor 1

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his meal. The way he cleaned his plate each night, helping himself to two servings or more, said all Matt needed to hear about the quality of his cooking. After dinner, Matt would retreat to the living room and turn on the TV. Because he’d cooked, Vic cleaned up, clearing the dishes off the table and washing them in the sink. Matt couldn’t hear the television over the sound of running water, but the news never interested him much, anyway. He usually kept a book on the end table beside the couch, something he could pick up and read a little, just until Vic was finished with the dishes. Then his lover would fill the sink with hot, sudsy water and leave the pans to soak as he joined Matt in the living room. By this time, Vic’s work shirt would be gone, stripped off and left on the floor of their utility room. The tank top he wore under the shirt would still be tucked into his work pants, the white fabric stretched tight across his broad chest so that the black ink of his tattoos bled through the thin material. When he entered the living room, his belt would be unbuckled, his shoes already left by the front door. Standing at the far end of the couch, he’d unzip his pants and step out of them; they would fall to the floor and stayed there until Vic turned in for the night. Wearing only his tank top, boxer briefs, and socks, Vic would then stretch out along the couch, his feet propped up on one end, his head in Matt’s lap. As Vic commandeered the remote control, Matt would divide his attention between his book and his lover. With an absent-minded air, he’d caress Vic’s chest or rub his smooth 2

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bald scalp, pluck at the hoops piercing his ears, stroke his chin and neck. He loved these tender moments, when his touch was enough to soothe a man as intimidating as Vic. His lover’s head would press against Matt’s groin with a sweet ache, and sometimes Vic caught Matt’s roaming hand in both of his and would kiss each fingertip, then each knuckle, then start all over again. Together they’d watch TV, concentrating more on each other than whatever happened to be on, and by the time they headed off to bed, they’d both be horny as hell. In the darkness of their bedroom, they’d cuddle beneath the blankets, ardent kisses growing demanding, soft touches becoming insistent, until eventually they slid together like two pieces of a puzzle locking into place. Some nights their lovemaking was slow and drawn out, the two of them too tired to get too randy; other nights they were wild with lust, and sex was a frenzy of abandon, hard and driving them both to multiple orgasms. Whatever the temperament of their coupling, they would snuggle close as they drifted off to sleep, Matt’s limp dick lodged deep within Vic’s relaxed sphincter. Through the mental connection that bound them together, their thoughts and dreams would be as entwined as their bodies. Holding each other close, they slept in a warm, loving embrace. *

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One evening, as Matt dressed after his shower, he noticed the Kama Sutra book he’d given Vic for Christmas. It sat on his lover’s bedside table, a puzzle book on top of it hiding 3

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most of the cover. Zipping up his jeans, Matt skirted the bed and picked up the book. He knew Vic wasn’t one for reading, and he suspected there was a very real part of his lover’s psyche that didn’t feel comfortable looking at the erotic photographs in the book, as if that somehow equated to cheating in his mind. But Matt didn’t think of it like that—in fact, when he looked at the pictures, he didn’t see the models at all but imagined himself and Vic in all those different positions. Some of the more common ones they’d already tried, but there were quite a few more adventurous sexual poses he’d like to experiment with. Maybe if they looked at the book together, Vic wouldn’t be so bothered by it. Tucking the book under his arm, Matt headed for the living room to deposit it on the coffee table. Then he hurried to the kitchen to start dinner. Nothing fancy—before leaving for work that morning, he’d placed four chicken breasts into a bowl of Italian salad dressing to marinade. Now he took them out and coated them with bread crumbs before sticking them in the oven. As they cooked, he put on some jasmine rice and green beans, Vic’s favorite vegetable. They ate green beans at every meal, it seemed. Once the chicken had cooked through, Matt covered the breaded breasts with stewed tomatoes and topped that off with freshly grated Parmesan cheese, then popped them back into the oven for another few minutes. By the time he felt Vic’s presence in his mind, which meant his lover was only a few blocks away and heading home, Matt had two full plates waiting for him on the kitchen table. Matt met Vic at the door with a kiss. “Hey, lover boy,” he 4

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purred, unbuttoning Vic’s work shirt. With a playful nip at Vic’s trimmed goatee, he leaned into his lover as if they hadn’t just seen each other earlier that morning. “How was work?” “Work sucked,” Vic admitted. He held onto Matt’s waist with both hands to steady himself as he stepped out of his boots. “But my day just got a hundred percent better. Tell me you made chicken parmesan.” “With rice.” Matt eased his hands into the open front of Vic’s shirt and rubbed his lover’s chest, his fingers rasping over the thin tank top he wore as an undershirt. “And green beans. I hope you’re hungry.” Vic laughed. “I’m fucking famished.” Matt grinned. “Then come fucking eat.” Against Matt’s neck, Vic murmured, “Now you’re turning me on.” Matt ate one piece of chicken; Vic had two, and toyed with the idea of eating the last one until Matt pointed out he could have it for lunch the next day. So he settled for half of the last piece, and finished off the rice and beans as well. Matt sat across the table from him and watched as Vic ate. The way the muscles worked in his jaw, the faint lines in his furrowed brow, the tongue that darted out to lick his red lips…glancing up from his plate, Vic saw Matt staring at him and muttered, “What?” “I love you.” Such a simple phrase, it came unbidden and resonated throughout his entire being. It passed easily through the 5

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psychic connection Vic shared with him, ricocheted back, and enveloped the both of them in a warmth that surpassed the heat rising from their plates or streaming in through the glass doors on their balcony. Vic’s response came telepathically as he shoveled another forkful of rice into his mouth. ::Love you, too, Matty. God, you’re too good for me.:: Matt laughed that away. “Oh, please.” Beneath the table, his bare toes found Vic’s socked foot and he rubbed along his lover’s arch as he propped one elbow on the table to set his chin in his hand. Gazing across at Vic, he let a faint smile toy across his face. “Do you know your lips turn pink when you eat?” Vic almost choked. “What?” “They do,” Matt assured him. “I read somewhere that people’s lips turn a darker shade of red when they’re aroused. Yours do it when you eat.” At Vic’s frown, he added, “I think it’s sexy.” Vic’s chewing slowed as he looked across the table at Matt. With a shrug, Matt asked, “What can I say? I like to see a man eat. You like my feet, don’t you? Isn’t that just as strange?” “So, like,” Vic offered, thinking it through, “let’s say we were both naked and eating?” “God,” Matt sighed. The image alone triggered a rush of blood to thicken his dick. With a smile, Vic warmed to the idea. “Or maybe you could lie down and I’ll cover you with…oh, I don’t know. 6

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Whipped cream, strawberries, maybe some chocolate syrup. And I’ll lick it all off your flesh—” “Jesus, Vic.” Matt gripped the table as he swooned at the thought of his lover above him, that goatee of his white with cream, that tongue tickling over Matt’s body as Vic ate his way down his chest, over his stomach, along the length of his dick…suddenly his pants felt a size too small, and Matt had to resist the urge to strip off his clothes, climb onto the table, and lay himself bare for Vic’s consumption. Vic grinned. “Would that turn you on?” he murmured. “Me eating you up?” Matt whimpered and nodded. “I’m buying some whipped cream the next time I go to the store,” he promised. “The kind in the can you shoot out? You really want to do this?” Vic’s smile widened as he gave Matt a quick wink. “I can’t wait.” *

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Friday afternoon, Matt stopped by the grocery store on his way home from work. As he passed through the electric sliding doors, he felt a rush of excitement that piqued his libido and had to struggle not to break into a goofy grin. What would the other shoppers say if they knew what he planned to do with the food he’d buy? These housewives with their children sitting in the shopping carts, crying for candy? These men heading straight for the beer aisle, or these college kids hanging out among the Ramen noodles? It would shake up the bored cashiers, no doubt, to know that Matt himself was the 7

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only dessert that would be wearing the whipped cream. He went straight for the refrigerated section of the store. There he bought two cans of whipped cream, debated a moment, then threw in a third just in case. The freezer case behind him was stocked full of ice cream, and on the end cap display stood jars of toppings—chocolate and caramel and fruity preserves. Matt chose chocolate because Vic had mentioned it specifically, and added a can of crushed pecans and some maraschino cherries to his handheld basket as well. On the other side of the store, in the produce section, he found fresh strawberries hand-picked from a local farm. The berries were huge, ripe, and smelled heavenly. Matt couldn’t stop at a pint, or even two—he bought two quarts. They could snack on the berries straight from the fridge, eat them with breakfast, crush them into strawberry lemonade…the possibilities weren’t just limited to playing with the food. As Matt headed for the checkouts, he kept his basket in front of him, held at waist-level, to keep anyone from seeing the obscene erection that pushed against the front of his jeans. At home, Matt wasn’t sure if he should start with dinner or not. Vic was usually hungry after work, but would the whipped cream and fresh fruit fill him up? Maybe they should save the dessert for later? Suddenly a door seemed to open in Matt’s mind, and he felt Vic’s presence as his lover neared their apartment building. ::Hey, good-looking.:: ::Hey, yourself.:: Matt grinned as he looked at the array of decadent food items sitting on the table. Sending a mental 8

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picture of his purchases, he asked Vic, ::How hungry are you tonight? I can whip up something for dinner if you want, or we can just skip to dessert—it’s up to you.:: Vic’s laughter filled Matt’s thoughts. ::I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me,:: he admitted. Matt teased, ::Oh, that sounds so promising.:: ::Tell you what.:: Matt sensed his car turning onto their street, just moments from parking. ::Spread a table cloth out on the living room floor, take off all your clothes, and wait for me. I’ll be there in five minutes, if that.:: Unbuttoning his shirt, Matt started, ::If you’re late—:: ::I won’t be,:: Vic promised. *

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Matt did as instructed, moving the coffee table aside and laying an old table cloth out on the floor. He undressed in the utility room, leaving his clothes in a heap by the washing machine. In the bathroom, he rummaged through the cabinet under the sink until he found a couple tubes of flavored lubricant—a nice cool mint he particularly liked because of the way it made his dick tingle, and a piña colada that reminded him of the beach. With these in hand, he headed back to the kitchen. As he cleaned the strawberries, he heard the front door open. “That better be you,” he called out. “And if it’s not?” Vic replied. Matt laughed. “Then someone’s in for quite a shock.” Over the sound of running water in the sink, he didn’t hear Vic approach. He stood by the sink, cutting the green tips off 9

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the strawberries and dropping the fruit into a strainer set under the faucet. When his lover’s large hands eased around Matt’s bare hips, the sudden touch took him by surprise. He gasped as he leaned back against Vic and turned to kiss his cheek. Those hands smoothed over Matt’s taut belly, then trailed down to cover his firming dick. Vic nibbled the tender skin behind Matt’s ear. “What happened to waiting for me?” “What,” Matt joked, “you think I stand around here naked when you’re not home? I went shopping, I got out the lube, I spread out the table cloth…what more do you want?” Vic hugged Matt close, one hand massaging Matt’s balls as the other eased between his legs to rub along his inner thigh. “I want you,” he sighed, pressing his mouth to Matt’s shoulder. His own budding erection, still sheathed in his pants, pushed against Matt’s buttocks. “Go get settled. I’ll be right there.” Dropping the knife into the sink, Matt rinsed his hands, then shut off the faucet. Turning in Vic’s embrace, he ran his arms around his lover’s neck and planted a proper kiss on Vic’s mouth. “I bought you strawberries,” he murmured against Vic’s lips, “and chocolate syrup, and whipped cream…” Vic cupped Matt’s ass in both hands, kneading the pliant flesh of his cheeks. “You’re making me hungry.” Matt grinned. “Then come eat me.” With an insistent kiss, Vic pinned Matt against the sink, their lips crushed together. His tongue delved into Matt’s mouth, tasting him, relishing him. His hands parted Matt’s 10

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buttocks, then slid down Matt’s thighs, raising his legs up off the ground. Cradled in his lover’s arms, Matt wrapped his ankles around Vic’s legs, his arms around Vic’s shoulders, as their kiss deepened. Suddenly Matt couldn’t seem to get close enough—he wanted more than these hands and lips on him, he wanted Vic’s clothing gone between them, he wanted every bare inch of skin pressed to Vic’s naked flesh. ::Please,:: he thought, unwilling to break away from his lover long enough to speak the word out loud. ::God, Vic, please.:: He felt energy surge through Vic’s body, an undercurrent to his thoughts, and the next thing Matt knew, his lover was carrying him into the living room as if he weighed no more than a small child. “Vic,” Matt sighed between kisses. “You don’t know how much this turns me on.” Moving his hands to jiggle Matt into a more comfortable position against him, Vic inadvertently rubbed Matt’s swollen cock between them. The shirt Vic wore felt foreign and rough on Matt’s already tender skin, and he humped against it again, savoring the sensation. “You are wearing too many clothes,” he told Vic as his lover lowered him to the table cloth set out on the living room floor. Matt caught Vic’s collar in one hand and tugged at it, then dropped his hand to Vic’s belt. “Take this off. And this. Take it all off.” “Give me two seconds,” Vic said. He laughed at Matt’s pout. “I just walked in the door!” Matt rolled his eyes. “One,” he counted. “One and a half. One and three-quarters…” 11

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With a grin, Vic disappeared back into the kitchen. “Count slower,” he called out. When Matt heard his lover’s belt buckle hit the tiled floor, his whole body prickled with anticipation. This had to be the strangest thing he’d ever done, sexually, and Vic eating off him made Matt hard just thinking about it. He hoped he could rein in his emotions, hold his feelings in check, and not spurt all over the place at the first lick. Hell, as it was, he almost wanted to jerk off, get that out of the way, so he could draw out the pleasure of becoming aroused all over again… Picking up on that thought, Vic growled from the kitchen, “Don’t you dare.” Matt laughed. “Then get in here already. What’s taking you so long?” He watched the doorway, waiting, but when Vic emerged, it was from the hallway near the front door; the kitchen was a walk-thru and Vic had gone around the far side, sneaking up on Matt. His clothes were gone, left on the floor somewhere, and his pale flesh peeking through the numerous tattoos looked smooth and creamy in the light of the living room lamp. From his shaved crotch, his thick cock pointed at Matt, and in one hand, he held the strainer full of cleaned strawberries. As he crossed the room to where Matt sat on the table cloth, he purred, “I hope you taste as good as you look, because I’m starving for you.” For a moment, Matt simply stared up at him. Then he grinned. “That’s the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard anyone use on me.” 12

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Vic handed him the strawberries. “I don’t care how cheesy it is.” He headed for the kitchen table and the array of goodies Matt had bought at the store. “I don’t see you changing your mind. What all do you have here?” Matt popped a strawberry into his mouth. The taste was heady and sweet, filling his senses. As Vic selected a can of whipped cream, Matt stared at his lover’s clenched buttocks, the curved flesh begging to be parted and entered. “Don’t make me come right away,” he told Vic, eating another berry. “I want to draw this out as long as possible.” “Oh,” Vic teased, “so now you have superhuman strength.” Matt flicked a strawberry at Vic’s backside. The red fruit smacked off his right ass cheek and fell to the floor, leaving a tiny kiss-shaped mark behind. With a glance over his shoulder, Vic told him, “You’re licking that off.” “Come over here and make me,” Matt said. Before he could react, Vic turned and tackled him. They wrestled to the ground, Matt falling back amid giggles that sent the strawberries scattering over his chest, Vic growling with a can of whipped cream in either hand. Matt felt his lover’s thick dick butt between his legs, the tip rubbing beneath his balls, as his own cock jutted into Vic’s navel. “Vic!” he cried, laughing. His lover nuzzled into his neck, teeth gnashing in playful bites, as he held Matt down to the floor. “Look what you made me do! I spilled all the berries.” “Clumsy.” Vic kissed a trail along Matt’s neck, down to his collarbone, into the hollow of his throat. There his tongue 13

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licked out and he sucked the first strawberry into his mouth. When he pressed his lips to Matt’s, the sweet juice of the berry dribbled from his mouth into Matt’s, filling them both with a hunger for more. Matt sighed his lover’s name and arched up against him, but Vic held him down as he kissed his way over Matt’s chin, down his throat, across his chest to the next strawberry. Raising up on his elbows, Matt watched that pink tongue lick out over one erect nipple, the touch hot and damp and oh-soelectric, before it curled around a strawberry nearby. The berry disappeared between Vic’s reddening lips, his jaws working as he chewed the fruit. Then, as Matt watched, Vic covered his nipple with his mouth and a flood of sticky juice swished around the tender bud. Matt’s hips rose off the floor to rub against Vic’s body, his cock throbbing between them, his whole body burning from the teeth that nipped and played with his nipple. “Oh, Vic,” he sobbed, throwing his head back as the sensation blazed through him like wildfire. “Oh yes, yes.” Vic moved to the next strawberry, and the next. Each time he plucked another off Matt’s skin, he bit or suckled or kissed the spot where the fruit had been, leaving behind a red, sticky imprint of his lips. All along Matt’s chest and stomach, his lower belly, his groin. The berries that fell off his body were picked up and fed, one by one, into Matt’s willing mouth. Time and again his lips closed over the tips of Vic’s forefinger and thumb, nibbling the fruit from between his lover’s fingers before sucking the flavor off Vic’s flesh. “Mmm,” he moaned, 14

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teeth closing over Vic’s fingertip to keep it in his mouth. He kissed the finger, then sat up to follow it as Vic pulled away. Between his legs now, Vic kissed the ticklish skin along Matt’s lower belly, just inches from the curls at his groin. Vic’s goatee scratched over the dick that poked beneath his chin, and his next kiss brought him dangerously close to the base of Matt’s shaft. Raising his hips off the floor, Matt thrust at his lover in the hopes of seeing those juice-stained lips close over the bulbous head of his cock. But Vic had something else in mind, and though Matt prodded his lover’s thoughts to see what it might be, Vic wasn’t telling. He sat back on his knees between Matt’s spread legs, his own erection still pointing in Matt’s direction. “What now?” Matt asked. Vic reached for the nearest can of whipped cream. It rattled as he shook it up. “Time for the main course,” he joked. “Lie down.” “I want to watch.” Matt fell back to his elbows, but no farther. “What’s the plan?” With a laugh, Vic popped the cap off the can of cream. “I thought you were watching.” “I am…” Matt’s voice dried up as Vic aimed the nozzle at his pubic mound. With a fuzzy zzpht, white whipped cream foamed from the can onto Matt’s skin. As airy and fluffy as clouds, the cream covered the hair at his crotch and made him draw in a sharp breath. So cold. “God,” he gasped. One corner of Vic’s mouth turned up in a half-smile. “Like that?” 15

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Matt nodded, unable to say anything else. Like an ice cream vendor, Vic began to circle the can around the base of Matt’s shaft, the cream piling up layer after layer, encasing Matt’s cock in cool, light, damp foam. The first trickle of melting cream ran beneath Matt’s balls and he drew his knees in, spreading his legs farther apart as he arched toward the can spraying his dick. Vic’s hand moved in faster, tighter circles, spiraling the cream up his cock to a flourish at the tip, hiding the entire length with cold whipped cream. Then, as Matt watched, Vic leaned down, hands on the floor on either side of Matt’s hips, and stuck out his tongue to lick the cream off the tip of Matt’s dick. Matt couldn’t help it—he came just a little then, a dribble that blended in perfectly with the white cream covering his cock. “Yes.” He caught his lower lip between his teeth and bit down, hard, to keep himself from squirting Vic in the face. “God, Vic, yes.” Encouraged, Vic closed his mouth over the tip of Matt’s shaft. His tongue twirled around the flared cockhead, licking it clean. Opening his mouth wider, Vic slowly ate away the next inch of cream, then the next, and the next. Each time he stopped, he licked the cream off that part of Matt’s cock, then sucked on the shaft, his tongue pressing Matt’s tip against the roof of his mouth, his cheeks working his hard length. By the time he reached the base of Matt’s cock, the full length filled his mouth and the tip hovered in the back of his throat. Matt could no longer stand it—before Vic could lap up the remainder of cream that clung to his pubic hair, Matt lay on 16

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the floor and pushed both hands against Vic’s shoulders. “Please, Vic,” he sighed, holding his lover back. “Just sit on it already, will you? I’m this close.” Vic sat back and let Matt slip from his lips. “What happened to me eating you up?” “Just please,” Matt gasped. Vic didn’t have to be asked again. The cool mint lube was closest—Matt smelled its pepperminty scent the moment Vic opened the tube’s flip-top. Matt watched as his lover squeezed the tube over his quivering dick; a healthy dollop of clear green gel oozed from the tube, then drizzled down around Matt’s dick, cool, refreshing. It tingled along his length, energizing him. “Please,” he sighed, bucking his hips into the air. “Please, please, please already, Vic. I’m begging here.” “So I see.” Vic stood and straddled Matt, then sank down to his knees. Laying back, Matt reached around Vic’s ample hips to grip his ass in both hands. As Vic pinned Matt down with an ardent kiss, he wriggled back until the slick shaft of his lover’s thick cock pressed between his buttocks. Then he sat back, taking Matt’s length in completely. Matt felt his lover’s weight settle onto his groin as he savored the hot tightness of Vic’s insides, the familiar sensation enflaming his cock, engorging his blood, and fanning the desire and lust that banked within him. Sitting on Matt’s dick, Vic took his lover’s hands in his and laced their fingers together, held their arms out before him to steady himself, then found a hard, fast rhythm that rocked him on Matt’s dick and drove them both on to release. He rode 17

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Matt like a bucking bronco, rising up off his shaft only to plunge back down, the circular motion of their hips grinding, rubbing them together. ::Yes,:: Matt cried out, and Vic echoed the affirmation, ::Yes, yes, yes.:: Matt held Vic’s hands up as he thrust into his lover, humped into the man riding him. ::Yes, yes.:: The vision of Vic above him, straddling him, loving him, triggered Matt’s first orgasm and the next and the next. Like a string of precious pearls, he came three times in rapid succession, until his cock spasmed in dry heaves and Vic’s cum on his belly looked like melting whipped cream from the can forgotten beside them. Then Vic was hugging him close. “Love you, Matty.” Matt silenced him with a kiss that tasted like strawberries and cream. *

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They showered together, soaping each other’s bodies and rinsing away the sticky mess smeared across their chests and bellies. When the last of the shampoo washed out of his hair, Matt stood beneath the hot shower spray and let the water pound down around him, driving the moment home. Strong arms around his shoulders hugged him back against Vic’s wet nakedness. Kissing the nape of Matt’s neck, Vic asked, “Well? Did you like it?” “Oh, yeah,” Matt assured him as he wiped the water from his eyes. “I bought three cans of that whipped cream, you know? And crushed nuts, and chocolate syrup.” 18

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A large hand eased between his legs to fondle his balls. “I like my nuts whole,” Vic said. “These are a good size.” With a laugh, Matt added, “And cherries. I got some cherries, too.” Vic caught Matt’s earlobe between his teeth and licked out, his tongue tickling along the back of his ear. “Do you know I can tie a cherry stem into a knot in my mouth?” “What?” Matt could easily imagine the tongue on him working a tiny stem into a bow, and the thought of it doing something so dexterous in the confines of Vic’s mouth made him want it to do such delicious things to him. “This I gotta see.” “Next time,” Vic promised, reaching past Matt to turn off the shower. Something in his expression made Matt reach out for him. Taking Vic into his arms, he wiped the water away from his lover’s brow and frowned at him. “Are you okay?” Vic nodded, a little too quickly. “Fine. Just…tired I guess. Long day at work. And more than a little hungry.” With a leer, he teased, “As good as the whipped cream tasted going down, it wasn’t exactly all that filling, if you know what I mean.” Matt wrapped his arms around Vic’s waist in a quick hug. “Let me order some pizza. And, Vic?” When his lover gave him a questioning look, Matt kissed the tip of his nose, then his upper lip, then both lips, this kiss tender, with a hint of tongue that promised more later. “Thank you.” “Anywhere, any time,” Vic promised. “Your fetish or mine.” 19

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*

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After getting dressed, Matt dialed the local pizza parlor and ordered three large pepperoni pizzas. He was pretty hungry himself, and could probably finish off a large pie without any help; add in Vic’s appetite, and the pizza would be gone by morning. It being a Friday night, the delivery would take a while, but Matt had a living room to clean up anyway. He started by putting everything cold into the fridge—the rest of the fruit and the two full cans of whipped cream. There were still a few strawberries scattered across the table cloth; they’d been smushed beneath his body and ground into the fabric. Matt picked these out and threw them away. Finally he rolled the fabric up, folded it into a tight wad, and dumped it unceremoniously into the washing machine. In the hall, he had to raise his voice over the sound of the water filling the washer. “Vic? Pizza’s on its way.” From the bedroom, he heard his lover grunt in reply. Grinning, Matt headed back to the living room, where he tucked the bottles of lube into the drawer on his end table. He pulled the coffee table into its proper position, and caught sight of the Kama Sutra book he’d put there earlier in the week. Sitting in Vic’s recliner, he opened the book to the table of contents and his smile widened to see Vic’s scrawled handwriting beside a few of the page numbers. Telekinesis beside the Hammock Position, page 24. Static electricity shit next to the Yawning Position, page 30, and a line drawn through that one for added emphasis. Walk thru 20

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walls/Phasing?, then the notation shower, by the Two Pillars Position, page 42. And what new power would their coupling moments ago bring? Matt flipped through the book, bypassing all the text on how to be a gentleman and how to find a lover to head straight for the pictures of the various positions. They were separated into sections—standing, or kneeling, or sitting. Matt found the section on lying down positions and slowed his search. Turning page after page, he studied the pictures, looking for one with a guy supine on the floor, his lover riding above him… There it was—the Cowboy Position. Bingo. Through the psychic connection they shared, Matt called out to Vic, ::Hey, sexy. I found—:: “Fuck!” The expletive came from the bedroom, spat out in surprised anger. Almost immediately, a crash followed that rattled the dishes in the drainer. Rising to his feet, Matt let the book fall to the recliner as he hurried down the hall. “Vic? You all right?” Rounding the corner, Matt skidded to a stop as Vic stumbled out into the hallway, eyes clenched tight and hands held up in surrender. Red burns had erupted on his palms, the skin raw and blistered. The shirt he wore had a black char mark right down the center that had burnt the buttons and frayed the material. Even the front of his jeans looked singed. “Matty?” Vic called out. “Where are you?” “Right here.” Matt took one of Vic’s wrists in both hands 21

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and winced at the burns on his lover’s palm. “Shit. What happened? Come in here.” He pulled Vic into the bathroom with him, releasing his lover’s hand as he started to tear through the medicine cabinet. He found gauze and burn ointment, and a bottle of some red merthiolate that was probably too old to be any good. As he set everything out on the edge of the sink, he heard a shuffling step behind him, then Vic walked into the bathroom door with a crack! that made Matt wince again. “Vic! Watch where you’re going—” “I can’t,” Vic said. He screwed his eyes shut as if fighting the urge to open them. “Where do you think these burns came from? I’ve got some sort of damn heat ray vision, or something, I don’t know. Anything I look at burns up.” “What?” Before he could explain, Matt guided him to sit on the closed lid of the toilet. Wrapping his arms around Vic’s bald head, he hugged his lover’s face against his stomach and rubbed the smooth skin along the back of Vic’s neck. “Shh, it’s okay. It’ll be all right, Vic. Just keep your eyes shut—” A knock on the front door of their apartment interrupted them. “God damn it,” Matt muttered. Suddenly the world was moving too fast for him—he wanted everything to just slow down or stop and let him think it through, just give him a moment to breathe. Was that asking too much? The burns on Vic’s hands came first. But his lover murmured against him, “That’s the pizza, Matt.” Shit. 22

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“Go get it,” Vic told him, raising his face towards Matt’s. His closed eyes hurt Matt’s heart. “I’ll be right here when you get back.” Matt hated leaving him, but the delivery person knocked again, and Vic’s stomach grumbled in response. “Stay here.” With a forced laugh, Vic asked, “Where else would I go? I can’t see shit without setting the whole place on fire.” Rushing down the hall, Matt called out, “I’m coming!” He stopped in the kitchen to grab the cash he’d set out after ordering, then yanked the door open just as the young man on the other side was about to knock again. “I heard you,” Matt said. He thrust the money at the delivery guy. “Here, take it. Keep the change. Where’s the pizza?” “Um.” Slowly the guy stared at the ticket in his hand. “This the diLorenzo place?” Somehow Matt resisted the urge to throttle the guy. “Just give me the pizza.” But the guy was in no hurry. “Is this—” “Yes!” Matt shoved the money at him, a fist full of dollars. “This is the right place, you’re here already, okay? Just please.” At the wary look the delivery guy gave him, Matt tried to explain. “Look, this is sort of like a bad time. I’m in the middle of something…” The guy looked past him into the empty apartment. He moved impossibly slow, as if in a daze. Matt didn’t have time for this. His head hurt with Vic’s pain, and the aromatic smell of hot pizza made him realize just how hungry he was. Grabbing the pizza boxes from the delivery guy’s hands, Matt 23

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wrested them free and slammed the door in his face. Back in the bathroom, Vic had his hands in the sink under a rush of cool water to soothe the burns. “God, Vic,” Matt sighed, taking his lover’s wrists. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” “Nonsense.” But it was, it was. In that instant, Matt hated the powers he bestowed upon his lover. Heat ray vision? What the fuck kind of power was that? Vic could’ve seriously injured himself without even realizing it, or started a fire they couldn’t put out, or burned the whole building down. “I’m sorry,” Matt said again, carefully cleaning the wounds on Vic’s hands. “I’m so sorry.” “Matty.” Vic leaned forward blindly, looking for his lover. Matt edged closer to him, allowing Vic’s head to rest against his hip. “Stop apologizing. I’ll be fine.” Matt wasn’t so sure. “These burns…” “They’ll heal.” Vic flexed his fingers, catching Matt’s hands in his beneath the spray of water from the faucet. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat and you know it. Loving you is worth whatever price I have to pay.” Matt felt his lips draw down in an ignoble pout as he turned off the water in the sink. “Hush.” “It’s true.” Vic held his hands out, waiting, as Matt patted them dry with a nearby towel. “Kiss me.” Matt obliged with a quick peck on Vic’s forehead. “Let me wrap up your hands. I feel awful about this—” “Don’t.” Leaning his head back, Vic puckered up to entice 24

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Matt to kiss him on the mouth. When Matt pressed his lips to Vic’s, his lover whispered into him, “Matty, listen. I love you. I love everything about you. If sex has to be some kind of strange Russian roulette, then that’s the chance I’m willing to take. I’m not going to let these powers define our relationship, in any way. Do you hear me?” “I hate hurting you,” Matt admitted. He tasted tears in the back of his throat and struggled to hold in emotions that threatened to sweep him away. Tenderly, he touched Vic’s closed eyelids, and his lover pressed his cheek into Matt’s palm. “I wish I could just make them go away, you know? I just want us to be normal.” He felt Vic grin against his lips, and despite the pain in his hands, his lover teased, “Oh, and making love with whipped cream and strawberries is normal how?” “Vic—” His lover kissed him quiet. “Matty, listen. I’m a big boy. I can make my own decisions. And I want you. I want only you. If that means I’ve got to put up with some stupid superpowers from time to time, then fine. I’ll do it.” He kissed Matt again. “For you.” Matt hugged Vic to him as if afraid to let him go. For a long moment they stayed like that, holding each other tight, until the small of Matt’s back began to ache from the position. Squatting down, he coated Vic’s hands with the burn ointment, then wound the gauze lightly around his lover’s fingers. “You’re too damn good for me,” he said, voice thick with emotion and unshed tears. He’d done this to Vic, him. He 25

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hated the powers and he hated himself. “I don’t deserve someone like you.” “That makes us even, then. Because I sure as hell don’t deserve someone as loving and sexy and amazingly awesome as you.” With a laugh, Matt admitted, “Keep talking like that and we’ll be getting you a new power in no time.” “After we eat.” Vic flexed his fingers, settling the gauze into place. His eyes stayed shut. “I don’t know how I’m going to hold a piece of pizza, though.” Matt told him, “I’ll feed you.” Excitement flared through him at the image that rose in his mind, Vic seated on the couch, eyes shut, so trusting, as Matt guided a slice of pizza between those open lips. It would add a whole new dimension to his fetish, feeding his lover, leaning in close as Vic chewed, watching those teeth tear into the pizza and wiping crumbs from his lover’s pliant mouth. A slow smile spread across Vic’s face as he picked up on that thought and Matt’s sudden arousal. “After dinner,” he promised.

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J. M. SNYDER

An author of gay erotic/romantic fiction, J. M. Snyder began self-publishing gay erotic fiction in 2002. Since then, Snyder has released several books in trade paperback format and has begun exploring the world of e-publishing, working with both Aspen Mountain Press and Amber Quill Press. Snyder’s highly erotic short gay fiction has been published online at Ruthie’s Club, Tit-Elation, Sticky Pen, and Amazon Shorts, as well as in anthologies by Aspen Mountain Press and Cleis Press. A full bibliography, as well as free fiction, book excerpts, purchasing information, and exclusive contests, can be found at: http://jmsnyder.net

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