Pairing: m/m

Available soon from Loose Id

BLURB

Coming soon

************************

© 2010 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

He followed Izzy up the porch and into the darkened house but felt oddly reluctant to head to his room. He’d been having a good time with Izzy.

“Want a snack?” Izzy stood, just a silhouette in the entrance to the kitchen, backlit by the moonlight from the bay window.

Given an excuse, Rabin decided it was just that. “Nah. I think I’m just going to head on up to bed.” Bed. The word had a charge to it that made him look away. Even if he was feeling attraction — and that’s probably what it was, strangely enough — he wasn’t going to do anything about it. It was a weird night. One that should end before anything happened. “’Night.”

“’Night.”

Izzy didn’t move as Rabin headed up the stairs. It was a relief to walk into the darkness of the hallway. Rabin walked into his room, closed the door, and didn’t bother with a light. There was enough moonlight coming through the open window to see just fine. Besides, the chancy dark went with the feeling that he was missing something. It wasn’t even sex. It was… He shook his head, unable to come up with anything. Maybe he should head down to Brent’s studio and play for a while. Brent had told him he was welcome, and the guitar often helped him to make sense of his thoughts — or at least calm them. Yeah, do that.

But first, he needed to change. The leather pants and boots were stylish but not all that comfortable. His shirt was off, and he was sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes and socks when the knock sounded at the door. He froze.

“Rabin?”

Don’t answer. Stupid. Izzy knew he was there. “Yeah?”

Without waiting permission, Izzy opened the door, a ghostly blue figure draped in the shadows that were his loose hair and dark jeans. His shoes were gone. He stared at Rabin, expression blank, unreadable.

“What’s up?”

Izzy approached, and Rabin had to force himself to remain seated, torn between equally strong desires to stand up and flee, or stand up and reach for the smaller man.

Izzy stopped at his knees and tried a smile. Long, thick fringe mostly hid his eyes. “Thank you for tonight.”

Rabin summoned a smile back for him. Nothing out of the ordinary here, nope. “You’re welcome.”

Izzy searched his face — for what, Rabin tried not to know. “Rabin, I…”

Rabin frowned, forcing his gaze from Izzy’s. “Look, Iz, we should call it a night.” He’d stay in his room; he’d go to sleep and not go downstairs. He’d do that as soon as Izzy left.

“You’re right.” A palm cupped Rabin’s jaw. “You’re right.”

Startled by the touch, Rabin tilted his face back up. Izzy was right there, swooping down like a falcon catching a meal. Lips. Soft lips. Eager lips. Pressed against his own. At first, Rabin’s eyes stayed open in shock, but the blurred sight of Izzy’s long eyelashes caressing the soft ridges of his cheeks was too much to focus on when sensation ruled. He opened instinctively, his tongue seeking more. With a soft, happy moan, Izzy invited him in, tongue caressing tongue to coax Rabin to explore. So sweet. Rabin forgot he was kissing a guy and just concentrated on the mouth that easily melded with his. When Izzy straddled his lap, it was only natural to take hold of slim hips to pull that warm, solid body close. He fit so well, his slight weight perfect. Rabin slid one hand around back, teasing up the shirt hem to caress soft skin, encouraging gorgeous little moans he could barely hear. Fingers tightened in his hair, that little bit of pain egging him on to tilt his head and open wider. His blood heated with a fine tremor of pleasure.

Slowly, as the kiss calmed, proper brainwave function reasserted itself. Rabin opened his eyes and tilted his head back, but not far enough to lose the little nips and licks Izzy gave his lips. Rabin’s cock was rock hard and uncomfortable in the leather pants, and Izzy’s body pressed warm and willing against him didn’t help matters any. “Wait.”

Izzy didn’t stop, his fingers warm against either side of Rabin’s neck. His hips rocked forward.

Rabin dug his fingers into Izzy’s waist and turned his head. “Wait.”

“No no no.” Izzy’s breath caressed his lips, fingers tight on his skull behind his ears. “Don’t think. Please…just…” They were kissing again. God, it was fantastic. How could Izzy taste so good?

Wait. “Izzy, no. This is –”

“This is fine.” Tender kisses along his jaw. “It’s okay.”

“No. I’m not –”

“It’s fine. I promise. Just this — no promises, no expectations, I swear.” Finally dark eyes focused on his from inches away, pleading. Izzy was trembling — not a lot, but when he was pressed this close, Rabin could feel it. “I need to be close to…someone tonight. And I think you do too.”

***********************

Click here to keep up to date on Indigo Knights: Squire

This isn’t a long excerpt, just a quick look at when Rabin meets Izzy. And, yes, Brent would be Heaven Sent’s Brent Rose.

Keep up to date with IK1: Squire here

*********************

©2010 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

When Rabin finally found the gate with the number Brent had given him, he was fairly bouncing with excitement. This place was fucking unreal. He leaned out his window to press a button on a pad mounted in front of the gate.

“Hey, Rabin.” Brent’s voice was crystal clear.

“How’d you know it’s me?”

“Cameras everywhere.” Brent laughed as the gate in front of Rabin began to slide open. “Come on up. Front door’s open.”

Daylight was slowly fading to twilight as Rabin parked his truck beside a dusty black Corvette and a recently washed white Mazda under the shade of a spreading tree. Rabin knew fuck all what kind of tree it was, but it sure was pretty, matching many of the other trees that surrounded the house and the embankment that led down from the house to the water. The house itself was two levels and looked like a huge cabin, complete with all the rustic finishes. Gorgeous.

After hefting his guitar case and the largest of his three suitcases from the truck, he headed toward the front door and found it open as promised. “Hello?” He stopped at the threshold. Loud pop music and a truly heavenly scent of some sort of cooking poultry lead him to his right and what he thought might be the kitchen.

Kitchen it was, all done up in dark colors to match the rural feel of the exterior of the house. The appliances were state of the art, lining the wall to the left of the opening that led into the room as well as the wall in front of Rabin. A huge island dominated the center of the room, complete with copper pots hanging above it. A four-seater table was built into a huge bay window overlooking the lake to Rabin’s right.

There was a young man who was very obviously not either Brent or Hell busy at the sink, his back to Rabin. He was on the short side, closer to Hell’s diminutive height than he was to either Brent’s or Rabin’s size. His hair was shining black, pulled into a tail that hung in gentle waves halfway down his back. He was singing and jiggling to the music, shaking slim shoulders, a trim waist, and a pert little ass. Reaching the chorus of the song, he belted out in a very nice if slightly off-key tenor. Tugging a towel from where it hung at the waistband of his jeans, he turned around, eyes closed as he sang into an imaginary microphone. Rabin grinned, enjoying the show. The kid was incredibly pretty. A softly rounded jaw and high cheekbones gave his face a gorgeous shape, and a long, thick fringe of that black hair hid his forehead, brows, and part of his eyes. Seen from the front, his snug, lime green T-shirt proclaimed Straight? So is spaghetti until you heat it up. Once the chorus was done, his dusky pink lips curled up in a smile and his eyes opened. Amazing eyes. Big and almond shaped, with irises as dark as chocolate bonbons and lashes any woman would die for.

Finally seeing Rabin, the young man stopped, eyes and mouth open wide in surprise. “Oh. Hi.”

Rabin felt like applauding but didn’t, since he still held his bags. “Hi.”

The kid’s mouth closed and his throat worked over a swallow while an embarrassed flush colored softly rounded cheeks. “You must be Rabin.” Tucking the towel back into his waistband, the young man hastily circled around the island toward him. One hand extended to go with a wide, welcoming smile. “I’m Izzy.”

New free story over at Fiction with Friction: Solo Vacation. ******NOT WORKSAFE******

Do yourself a favor and check out the other stories from the rest of the week too. Good stuff!

This story was the first posted at Pink Chair Diaries.The rules for the stories was just that they needed to feature a bright pink blow up plastic chair with a dildo fastened in the middle of the seat.

PCD is down as I write this and while I’m sure they’ll get back up and running, in the meantime, here’s Ryan and Jason.

WARNING: NOT SAFE FOR WORK!

***************************

©2004 (2007?) Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Jason froze just inside of the doorway. What the hell?

The door clicked shut behind him.

Ahead of him, Ryan entered the narrow room and tossed his backpack onto the bed against the wall on the right. He spun to sit heavily next to it, immediately turning to open the mini-refrigerator that doubled as a nightstand. He took out a Coke. “You want one? Hey, what’s wrong?”

Jason blinked at him, then blinked back at… it. “What’s that?”

Ryan glanced at the thing sitting between the bed and the desk, then grinned. “A chair.”

“It’s pink.”

Ryan opened the can. “Yeah.”

“It’s got a…” Jason swallowed. “Is that what I think it is?”

“You mean the dildo? Yeah.” He took a drink.

Jason’s mouth fell open. He was right?! He turned his attention back to the chair in question. It was a blow up thing, transparent, like a pool toy. The seat stood about two feet high and was smooth and round, the back stood up on one side kind of looking like four fingers together. The whole thing was a God-awful neon pink. He’d had a chair like it when he was a kid. But this was so very different. The difference that he was still trying to get his head around was the dildo sticking up out of the seat. Not a huge one, probably five or six inches long, maybe an inch and a half thick. But there it was, sticking straight up. Looked to be made of something substantial, not blow up like the rest of the chair. It was solid with a dull shine. The thing actually had veins molded into it. It was a joke, right? It wasn’t meant to be used.

Not by Ryan?

Jason’s mouth went dry.

“You like it?”

“Huh?”

Ryan chuckled, setting his drink on top of the fridge before he bent down to pull off his sneakers. “You like my chair?”

He couldn’t take his eyes off it. “Where’d you get it?”

“I ordered it online.”

“Why?”

“I thought it was hysterical.”

So it was a joke. A little of the tension leaked from Jason’s shoulders. “What’s it doing here?”

“It’s my chair.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

Jason transferred his attention to Ryan, but that sight was just about as disturbing as the chair. Ryan was, in a word, hot. To use two words, he was adorable hot. The two words shouldn’t go together, but Ryan made it work. He looked younger than his twenty two years despite the fact that he was as tall as Jason’s five foot eleven. He had a sleek, surfer bleached blond look without looking washed out. His platinum hair waved slightly almost to his shoulders and his green eyes laughed at you over his wide, always smiling mouth. The adorable part was the freckles. He had them all over. If you were far enough away from him you couldn’t tell, but when you got close you could see them dotting his skin. It was fascinating.

Not that Jason was gay or anything. No, that was a gut reaction. Jason didn’t really know. He’d briefly dated a few girls in high school but nothing ever happened. He’d noticed guys but naturally didn’t do anything about it for fear of being lynched by his homophobic high-school friends. Two years of college still hadn’t quite convinced him which way he swung and the fact that he hadn’t slept with anyone of either sex didn’t help make up his mind.

Jason had known Ryan for nearly a year now, having shared some classes. Ryan definitely moved him but so far nothing more than simple friendship had been offered. He didn’t even know which way Ryan swung. The bulk of their conversations thus far had been around school topics. This wasn’t the first time they’d studied together but, Jason now realized, this was the first time they’d come to Ryan’s studio apartment right off campus to do it. Had to be the first time. Because he would have remembered the chair.

Ryan stared at him, his grin growing into a highly amused smile. “You’re wondering if I use it.”

Didn’t that just start a whole hell of a lot of vivid images in Jason’s brain! Start with Ryan naked. That he’d almost seen, at least from the waist up. There was a fountain on campus and they’d been sitting there on a really hot day and Ryan had taken off his t-shirt. Toned and tanned and the freckles were all over him. Wasn’t a stretch to wonder if the freckles covered other areas of his body. Were his pubes gold too or were they dark almost-brown like his eyebrows? Was his cock like the dildo? Oh yeah, the dildo. No effort whatsoever to picture Ryan straddling that low seat, easing himself down on that greased pink cock.

He slipped his backpack off his shoulder and held it in front of his crotch to hide the start of a boner. Hopefully, Ryan didn’t notice.

Jason shook his head, trembling. “Nah. I just…” he glanced at the chair, swallowing. “What have you got it out for?”

Ryan laughed. “It’s a great conversation piece.”

Jason looked at him. Saw the smile. Saw the joke. Laughed. “You fucker.”

“Well, it is. Hey, you coming in or not? We have a test tomorrow, remember?”

“Yeah.” He walked to the small, hard brown couch that sat parallel to Ryan’s bed. “I remember.”

Ryan stood just as Jason sat. The move put Ryan’s jean clad crotch within reaching distance and just about eye level. Shit! Jason dropped his attention to taking his books out of his bag. What the hell was he noticing Ryan’s crotch for?

Ryan went to turn on the stereo, which stood on a desk right beside the chair. Why was it next to his desk? Why was it next to his bed? Did he really use it? No way. That would be awkward as hell to…

Quit it!

Ryan came back to sit on the bed. They opened their books and started in on physics. Jason couldn’t quite get the chair out of his mind. He kept glancing at it. But he managed to focus most of his attention on the subject. He needed the help, after all. Ryan was really good at all that math stuff and Jason just wasn’t. Ryan was being a real friend to do this for Jason since he probably didn’t need to study at all.

“Here, I’ll show you.” Ryan switched from the bed to the couch, leaning into Jason’s shoulder as he pointed to the numbers in the text book.

The light scent Ryan’s cologne, faded this late in the day, drifted around Jason. He was pretty good at ignoring it. Took comfort in it, really. It was a familiar thing when they were studying. So it was frustration with the topic and not Ryan’s nearness that made him sigh and cast his gaze around the room for something to look at besides numbers.

He saw the chair. Equations fizzled from his brain at the vivid images of Ryan spread over that seat, the pink dildo wet and shining, appearing and disappearing as Ryan rose up and dropped down. Up and down. Would it fit inside him?

“Hey.”

Jason jumped, textbook clattering to the dingy gray rug. He sprang to his feet lest Ryan see the boner the book had been covering. “Gotta visit the john,” he muttered, heading for the door beside the couch.

He considered jerking off, but didn’t dare. Ryan might hear, even with the door closed and the stereo on. Plus, if he jerked off, he wasn’t sure he could picture anything except Ryan on that chair. Did he have the chair to tease girls? Or did he really use it himself? Was Ryan gay?

None of these thoughts were making the boner go away. Jason settled for taking off his sweatshirt and tying it around his waist. The dangling arms covered his crotch okay. He should probably leave soon anyway.

When he went back, Ryan was laying belly-down on the bed, propped on his elbows over his textbook. He glanced up. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He caught himself glancing at the chair. The thing was like a fucking magnet for his eyes! He dropped onto couch, bending to pick up his bag. “I think I should go. My brain’s overloaded.”

He heard shifting and looked up to see Ryan roll over onto his side. God he was pretty! Like pretty pretty. Like a girl pretty. Especially when his long bangs fell over his eye like that. It made you notice the other eye more. Also made you notice that pert little nose with those freckles. Fucking freckles!

Ryan smiled slowly. “We could take a break.”

Shit! Was I staring? “Nah. I should go.”

“Jase?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna watch?”

Jason frowned at the papers and books stuffed in his backpack. He looked up. “Huh?”

Ryan glanced toward the end of the bed—toward the pink chair—then back at Jason, his smile taking on a wicked tilt. “You’ve been looked at the chair ever since you came in.”

Jason sat up straight, fist gripping the strap of his pack. “I haven’t…”

“You wanna watch me use it?”

Jason’s jaw fell.

Ryan’s hand drifted to the space where his t-shirt had come untucked from his jeans, exposing a stripe of skin. Smooth skin with freckles you didn’t really notice too much until you were looking hard.

Looking hard…

Shit, really?! “No! I… I can’t.”

In one smooth move, Ryan sat up, bent his legs over the edge of the bed, and whipped off his t-shirt. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Guh!

“You’re dying to know if it’s possible. Admit it,” Ryan said, blithely tossing the t-shirt aside.

“But…”

“No worries. It’s like watching another guy jack off in the shower, right?” He reached down under the bed and pulled up a bottle of lube. Half empty.

Where’d the other half go?

“Ryan, you don’t have to.”

He passed by Jason without a look, heading for the chair. “It’s okay. You’ve got me thinking about it now.” Watching him from behind, Jason could tell he was unbuttoning his jeans. Unzipping.

Stop him!

But he couldn’t. He just… couldn’t. Now that the offer was out there, he was transfixed. He couldn’t move, couldn’t say a word, could hardly breathe.

Ryan set the lube on the desk near the chair then put both hands to the waistband of his jeans to pull them off. Evidently, he pulled off whatever underwear he might have been wearing too, because when he bent over, all Jason saw was tight little naked ass. Tight. Two perfect handfuls. The skin was lighter than his back or legs, but still kind of gold. He almost groaned when he saw the freckles. A lighter scattering of them here, which made them more noticeable. He turned and Jason tried to swallow in a dry throat when he saw the boner. It stood out straight from his body, a lot redder than the rest of him.

Ryan chuckled, wrapping fingers around it. “Sorry. I get hard thinking about the chair.”

Gaping, Jason forced his gaze to Ryan’s smiling face. “Y-you do?”

“Oh yeah. It feels so good.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah.”

He stopped caressing his dick and reached back for the lube. With it in hand, he knelt in front of the chair.

Jason crawled to the side of the couch to get a better view. The couch wasn’t as long as the bed, when he knelt up and braced his thighs against the arm, he was at just the right angle to watch Ryan pour a handful of lube then transfer that handful to the pink protrusion on the seat of the chair.

How the hell is that hot? Jason wondered. He was caressing a pink dildo on a blow up pink chair, for God’s sakes. That shouldn’t’ be hot! Maybe it was the way Ryan caressed the thing. He didn’t just wet it, he was loving it. Like he might caress a real dick.

Jason’s dick pushed at his fly, wanting to see.

Ryan, apparently satisfied, poured a little more lube on his fingers then put the bottle back on the desk. He stood and turned his back to the chair, reaching behind him.

Jason flinched when he realized Ryan was fingering himself. “Doesn’t that hurt?” he heard himself ask.

Ryan chuckled, eyes closed, showing no sign of discomfort or pain. “Not when you’re used to it.”

Oh man, yeah. He was used to it. He sure seemed to enjoy it, whatever he was doing. Oh man. He backed up. His dry hand braced on the edge of the desk and he lowered himself until his wet hand could take hold of the dildo. Hold it. Guide it. Jason watched, wide eyed. Part of him wanted to get up and go over there, see it from behind, see the head of that pink thing prod what was probably a pink hole and force it open.

Oh man.

Slowly, inch by inch, Ryan squatted lower. Lower. His face with it’s closed eyes and that lower lip trapped by his teeth, showed no sign of discomfort, only pleasure. He kept going, steadily lower, until… He did it! He was sitting on the fucking chair!

“Shit.”

Ryan smiled, peeking up at Jason from beneath long gold bangs. If Jason didn’t know better, he’d think Ryan was just sitting on the chair normally. Sitting on the chair, naked, with a big fucking hard on.

Jason should probably be embarrassed, but he couldn’t find room for anything except awe. And lust. That was too fucking hot.

Ryan braced his lubed hand on the inflated seat behind him, forcing his chest to arch out. His cock curled up toward his belly. Drops of precum shone on the tip. Using both hands for balance, Ryan drew his hips up. The dildo reappeared slowly, all slicked up. It was probably warm, heated from being inside Ryan’s body. It must be tight. His ass couldn’t be anything but tight on something like that.

Tight.

A sigh of pure pleasure floated out of Ryan’s mouth. His head fell back, hair dangling. His nipples were hard, pink pebbles on flat disks surrounded by a very fine layer of shining golden chest hair. Ryan started to work it slowly, raising and lowering on the dildo. His head rolled, he moaned softly. The skin of his chest and neck started to get redder.

Abso-fucking-lutely beautiful.

“Do it.”

Eyes locked on Ryan’s bobbing cock as Ryan again eased down to the seat, Jason didn’t immediately know what he was talking about. He looked up to see Ryan’s eyes on his crotch. Lowering his gaze, Jason saw his hand splayed over his imprisoned dick, pressing.

“Take it out.”

Jason closed his eyes, feeling his cock jump at the sound of the rasp in Ryan’s voice. Before he could give it much thought, he ripped open his button fly, pulled down his briefs and released his aching cock into his palm. That feels good, he moaned, squeezing.

Ryan was watching him through half-closed eyes, the muscles of his arms and legs bunching and releasing as he fucked himself a little faster on the chair. What would it feel like? To be the chair? To be that part of the chair? To stick his dick into what had to be a greased, tight hole? The arm of the couch bit into his thighs as he pushed forward into his hand.

“Ah, Jason.” Ryan really worked it now, the chair bouncing beneath him. It had to have something weighting it down underneath because the way he was moving it should have skidded out from underneath him. “Jason—“ Ryan had to stop saying his name like that because it was too hot! “—bring it here. I want to suck you.”

Whoa! No! Yes!! Only a portion of his brain paid any attention to the “no” and it wasn’t the part in charge. He was off the couch and across the room before he could think about it.

Ryan sat hard on the pink chair and stilled, reaching forward to yank Jason’s pants and briefs down to almost his knees. His hands came back up to grip Jason’s ass, bringing him closer to his open mouth. Green eyes turned up to look at him as Ryan’s mouth opened and his tongue pressed against the head of Jason’s cock.

Oh shit! That was hot. Jason watched helplessly as Ryan closed his lips and suckled the head, his tongue doing some amazing shit within his mouth. “Oh man,” he groaned, hands going to Ryan’s head, fingers in his silky soft hair. He didn’t push, exactly, but he kind of did. Hoping.

His eyes crossed, closed, as Ryan’s sweet fucking mouth slid down his shaft, that tongue working the underside. He pulled back and pressed down, moaning like he had the best ever treat in his mouth. Jason was too into what he was doing with his tongue to think about that too much. He stared, mesmerized as Ryan’s red, wet lips slid up and down his shaft, leaving behind shining saliva. He popped the head out of his mouth, making Jason grunt, then ducked his head to lick Jason like a fucking lollipop from base to tip. And again. He peeked up and smiled big before taking the head between his teeth, holding it so his wicked tongue could probe the tip.

“Oh shit, Ryan!” Jason moaned, too far gone to worry that it was a guy who was sucking him. A naked, pretty man sitting on a pink blow up chair with a dildo up his ass.

Up his ass.

Groaning, Jason leaned forward, bracing a hand on the wall behind Ryan. The angle didn’t let him see the dildo. God, he wanted to see!

Lips popped off the tip of his cock and a wet hand pumped his shaft. The tip of him slapped Ryan’s tongue a few times before Ryan slurped him in again.

Jason clawed the wall, paint chipping underneath his fingernails. His knees were trembling and his hips were bucking all on their own. “God, you’re good at that.”

“Fuck me.”

Jason blinked at the ceiling. The hand pumping his cock was distracting. Did he hear what he thought he heard?

“Jason, please, Jason, fuck me, please.”

He looked down. Ryan’s lips were around his cock again, his cheeks hollowed as he sucked hard enough to make Jason’s vision go blurry. With a pop, his lips came off.  Fuck me with this,” Ryan said, rubbing his cheek against Jason’s cock, cradling it like it was a favorite pet. “So hard, so beautiful.” Green eyes locked on Jason’s face. “I want it inside me.”

“I… I’ve never…” He shook his head.

“It’s okay. I’ll do all the work. Just lie down and let me ride you.”

“Ride… me…” Like he rode he damn chair! Jason moaned. His knees went out. Ryan released him as he melted to the floor.

Ryan followed him, pushing him hard. He fell mostly on his side on the carpet between the couch and the bed. Ryan pushed his shoulder, arranging him on his back.

“Be right back.” Ryan jumped up and rummaged quickly in the desk. Then Ryan was back on top of him, straddling his thighs.

Shit, this is happening? “Ryan, wait…”

“Please Jason,” Ryan whimpered. Fucking whimpered. Like he had to have it. He tossed aside something Jason vaguely realized was a condom wrapper, then his hands were rolling the thing on Jason’s cock. “I need this,” he muttered, squeezing with both hands when he got to the base.

Jason groaned, falling back onto the floor, throwing an arm over his eyes. He wasn’t going to last through this. He felt the orgasm building already.

Ryan was moving again. Jason knew what he was doing and didn’t want to watch. But he had to watch. He moved his arm in time to see Ryan rear up above him, just like he had for the chair. One hand was braced on Jason’s chest and the other was behind him, gripping Jason’s sheathed cock. There was pressure and a warm, unheard pop. Jason moaned. Ryan closed his eyes, bit his swollen lip. It was in. Jason shook. That felt good!

“Don’t come,” Ryan crooned, sinking down slowly. “Oh please, don’t come. Hold it. Not yet. Let me… God, you’re big!”

Jason tried to hold it. He wanted to hold it. Feeling all that pressure closing around his dick was fucking fantastic! Better than anything he’d ever managed with his hand. Oh God, he was inside Ryan. Ryan’s ass was clutching his dick. That freckled, fucking adorable body was arched over him. “Ryan,” he moaned.

“Oh yeah, baby,” Ryan moaned, leaning back, bracing his hands on Jason’s thighs. His back arched, his head fell back. Ryan pulled up and pushed back down. “Oh, fuck you feel good. Hold it for me, baby, don’t come yet. Let me… Ah! Your dick is amazing.”

Jason was pretty sure he was going to die. His hands shot down to clutch Ryan’s hips and that brought his attention to Ryan’s cock and the way it bobbed above Jason’s belly, spilling pre-cum onto his t-shirt. He did two things. One, he pulled his shirt farther up his chest. Then, he wrapped his hand around Ryan’s dick.

“Oh shit, Jason, don’t…” But it wasn’t a real “don’t”. Even in his inexperience, Jason could tell that. Ryan froze, ass spasoming around Jason’s cock.

“Jay-son bay-bee,” Ryan sang, rocking his hips in time to his words.

Jason spat on his palm then returned it to Ryan’s cock. If he focused on Ryan’s dick, he could hold off the explosion waiting to go off in his groin.

“Oh yeah, work it, baby. Work my dick.”

Jason tried, but Ryan kept messing him up, riding him now like he was a fucking bucking bronco. Or the God-damned chair. Jesus, he was so deep in Ryan’s heat.

Something boiled deep in Jason’s belly. “Ryan, I can’t…” His grip faltered.

“Come for me, baby.”

It might have been the words, it might have been the speed, it might have been an extra squeeze. Jason couldn’t tell. But something or everything went boom in his gut. He yelled, arching, hands back on Ryan’s hips to slam him down as he came.

“Oh yeah,” Ryan moaned, replacing Jason’s lost grip on his cock with his own. He pumped furiously, hips jerking a little with his movements, his ass squeezed Jason’s imprisoned cock as it shot its load.

Actual fucking tears broke out in Jason’s eyes at the painful pleasure that extended his orgasm. He was going to break apart if this lasted much longer.

“Oh bay-bee!” Ryan wailed. Warm spurts splattered on Jason’s belly.

Jason lay there, eyes closed, trying to breathe. He was afraid to move, afraid that anything would bring back that terrifying pleasure and make him come again. Above him, Ryan didn’t move for a few moments except for where his ass caressed Jason’s gradually wilting boner.

Finally, Ryan moved. Jason’s eyes opened as Ryan fell forward onto his arms, hands to either side of Jason’s head. Gold hair a little damp with sweat fell to either side of Ryan’s face as he smiled. His eyes, however, were serious as he searched Jason’s face. “You okay?”

Jason swallowed. “I’m not sure.”

“That was—“ Ryan shook his head, showing a certain degree of awe akin to what Jason experienced, “—incredible.”

Jason nodded.

Ryan shifted his weight to one arm, lifting the other hand to brush Jason’s cheek. “You freaked?”

“A little.”

“Just a little?”

“A lot.”

“Should I be sorry?”

“Are you?”

“No.”

“Then it’s kind of stupid to be sorry.”

Ryan smiled, a little sadly. “I am sorry if this means you’re going to avoid me now.”

Jason stared up at that pretty face, trying to decide if he wanted to kiss Ryan or punch him.

Ryan bit his lip, not helping matters any by looking so flushed and sexy. “I’ve tried to hide that I wanted you because I really do like being friends with you but… God, Jason, you’re so beautiful.” His fingers traced Jason’s lips. “When I got the chance, I just had to…” His smile faded to a look of worry. “Don’t hate me. We don’t have to do it again. I know it was your first time with a guy…”

“Ever.”

“Huh?”

“That was my first time. Period.”

Ryan’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit! I thought you meant you’d never done it with a guy. I didn’t know…”

“It’s okay.”

“Jason, if I’d known…”

Jason laughed. “You probably still would have done it.”

Ryan wanted to look shocked, Jason could tell, but he couldn’t manage it. He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“It’s okay.”

“Is it? I wasn’t even sure if you were into guys or not.”

Jason laughed. “Neither was I really.”

Ryan blinked, hand stilling on Jason’s cheek. “Are you?” He glanced down to where his now quiet cock lay against Jason’s spunked-up belly. “Now?”

“I don’t know.” Jason slid his hands up Ryan’s thighs. Gripping Ryan’s waist, he pulled up to sit, forcing Ryan up as well.

Ryan watched him warily, moving with him and never taking his eyes off Jason’s face.

When he could, he slid his arms around Ryan’s waist, keeping the other man straddling his lap. “But I’m into you.”

Ryan opened his mouth then closed it, grimacing. “Ha-ha.”

Jason smiled. “Kiss me.”

“You sure?”

“No. But we’ve already fucked. Kissing is the least of it.”

Soberly, Ryan shook his head. “No. A lot of times a guy will fuck you but won’t kiss you. Kissing means you’re making love. Not kissing is just sex.”

It was Jason’s turn to blink. Just how many guys had Ryan fucked to learn this? And why was he getting all jealous at the thought?

Huh.

“Okay,” he said slowly, sliding one hand up to slide into the hair at Ryan’s nape. So soft. “Kiss me.”

Only because they were so close did Jason feel the tremor that took Ryan’s body. Green eyes dropped to Jason’s lips and the hand was back on his cheek. “God, Jason,” Ryan breathed, sliding his arms around Jason’s neck and leaning to seal their lips.

Kissing Jason had done. With girls. But this was different. This was… more. He opened his mouth and slid his tongue between Ryan’s lips, finding Ryan’s tongue in a wet caress. Ryan tasted sweet and dark. Jason held him close and drank his fill. There was no hurry. His sated body was content to rub against Ryan’s smooth skin, melt in the man’s embrace.

But his knees weren’t happy. They were still imprisoned in his jeans and sticking straight out behind Ryan. Jason pulled out of the kiss.

Ryan whimpered softly, transferring little bites to Jason’s chin.

“Rye…”

“Yeah?”

“Can we move this to the bed?”

“We can do anything you want, baby,” Ryan crooned happily.

He scrambled back, took the condom off Jason, and stood. He turned with the condom toward the wastebasket as Jason stood. He grunted as his legs wobbled. His thighs had that marching ant sensation of having gone to sleep.

“You okay?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah.” He reached for his jeans. About to pull them up, he glanced at Ryan, who was watching from the door of the bathroom. Smiling, he shoved his pants off.

That made Ryan smile. He disappeared in the other room.

Smiling himself, Jason turned toward the bed.

And saw the chair.

Unable to help himself, he reached out to finger the dildo. Still wet but nowhere near as warm as it probably had been. He knew what it felt like now to be deep inside Ryan.

He chuckled. “Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

He glanced over his shoulder as Ryan appeared, towels in hand. He pointed at the chair. “Promise you’ll let me see you do the chair again?” He grinned big. “I wanna watch.”

Pairing: m/m

The powers that be at MLR Press asked for it and I, weak as I am, agreed to do a sequel to About Something.

BLURB:

Turns out life as a drag queen isn’t what Shawn thought it would be. He loves the costumes and dressing up, but he’s found he’s better suited to performing from a script than vamping onstage. Too bad Shawn figured this out long after breaking up with Roscoe when his bossy director boyfriend told him he didn’t have what it would take.

Two years later, Shawn may not be wildly happy but he’s content. That is until Roscoe shows up to ask him to reprise his role as Beatrice in Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing. Roscoe is as magnetic as he’s always been and the spark between them is still burning bright.

When Roscoe turns on the charm for a more personal reunion, can Shawn resist? Does he even want to?

*********************************

© 2010 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Roscoe folded his forearms on the bar before him, one of his elbows brushing Shawn’s. “It’s a paying gig. Equity. You could get your card.”

“Aha.” Shawn took a sip of his drink, keeping his eyes on the bar. “I get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why are you showing up, out of the blue, with an offer?”

Some of their audience had drifted away, but Shawn had no doubt those who remained would spread the word.

Didn’t seem like Roscoe cared who heard. “I told you. I need you. Play’s not the same without you.”

“Why that play?”

“I like that play.”

“You going to call Bonnie in California to come play Benedick?”

When there was no answer, he slanted his gaze at the other man.

Roscoe stared at the array of bottles on the mirrored wall behind the bar. He shook his head, not smiling now. “No.”

“What? You don’t think she did great?”

“I do, and you know it.”

“Right.” He took a healthy drink then carefully set his glass down. “But you weren’t sleeping with her.”

Ever aware of his performance, on and off stage, Roscoe gave it a beat, turned to face Shawn then sat back, putting some distance between them. “My offer is sincere, regardless of our past.”

“I’m sure the offer’s sincere. But it doesn’t make anything that happened between us right.”

He heard the disgusted snort even though he wasn’t looking Roscoe’s way. “Who said I was trying to make anything right? I’m trying to offer you a job.”

Shawn faced him. “A real job.”

Roscoe tilted his head.

“Go ahead, say it. You want to.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

They had a silent, rapt audience now. The only sound was the Eighties music pumping through the speakers overhead.

Shawn was not adverse to giving them a show. These people would be on his side. “Why not? I know what you want to say. What the hell are you doing slumming here anyway? You hate places like this.”

The older man shook his head. “I never said that.”

“Oh, okay. Then you just hate me being in a place like this?”

Roscoe glanced at the people surrounding them. “You sure you want to do it like this?”

“Why not? They like it here.”

The calm facade dissolved and finally Roscoe showed some anger as he crossed his arms over his chest. “My God, still the drama queen, are we?”

“Fuck you.” Shawn slammed his hand on the bar and stepped back. “I don’t need your hand out, Mr. Big Shot Director. Why don’t you go somewhere else and find someone who’s willing to bend over and take it from you.”

In one sudden move, Roscoe rolled to his feet, leaning over and into Shawn. “You used to do it willingly,” he murmured, lips just inches away from Shawn’s.

Shawn barely managed to keep himself from jumping up and wrapping himself in Roscoe’s embrace. As it was, he caught himself leaning toward the hard strength he knew was inside that shirt. Nostrils flaring, he glared up into Roscoe’s face, determined not to back down. “Not. Any. More.”

Roscoe stayed where he was, staring Shawn down. The air around them vibrated, and no one within hearing spoke.

Finally, Roscoe licked his lips. “Fine.” He took one step back. “You think about it. The offer stands, but I can only hold the role open for a week or so.”

“Don’t bother.”

Roscoe’s jaw worked from side to side, a sign to Shawn that he was reviewing and discarding a number of parting lines. In the end, he just said. “By the way, I caught your act. You were great tonight.” He turned and walked out.

Flummoxed, Shawn could only stare. He’d seen Shawn’s act? After all he’d said about how Shawn couldn’t succeed as a drag queen? Trust Roscoe to find words that would bite.

* * * * *

Thoroughly annoyed, Shawn refused to answer any questions that were pelted at him after Roscoe’s exit stage right. He fled to the haven of the dressing room and changed into his jeans and tennis shoes. After cleaning off all his makeup, he shouldered his backpack, checked his wallet to make sure he did, indeed, have cab fare then left by the back entrance.

Hailing a cab from the corner was easy, but just as he was about to duck in the back, someone came up behind him to hold the door. You don’t live in the city long before you develop a healthy dose of suspicion, so Shawn immediately straightened and jumped away.

It was Roscoe. He tilted his head forward so those black eyes peeked at Shawn over the horn rims. A lock of silky black hair dipped down to shade his eyes from the harsh street light. “Mind if I join you?”

If Shawn’s heart hadn’t already been hammering from the mild scare, it jumped into triple time now. “If I say no?”

Two years as this man’s lover had taught him what that wicked glimmer in those eyes meant. “Don’t say no.”

All blood rushed south to fill his cock and Shawn suddenly had trouble remembering why, exactly, he wanted to keep his distance from the man. Why would he decline that offer? He shrugged and climbed into the backseat, aware of the man crawling in beside him. Okay, yes, Roscoe was probably just pushing his point about the play. Mr. Director rarely gave up after only one volley. Shawn didn’t intend to give in, but, since he very well knew the tools of persuasion Roscoe had in his arsenal, he didn’t see why he couldn’t have a little fun. Yeah, he told himself as he settled in his seat, no harm in making him work for it.

“Where to?” asked the cabbie, glancing back at them through the dirty safety shield.

Shawn opened his mouth but Roscoe answered first, giving the address of his building. Before Shawn could continue to give his own address, Roscoe grabbed his arm to stop him.

He leaned closer. “Come home with me.”

Shawn swallowed, watching those gorgeous lips caress the words. Home meant a lot more when Roscoe said it, since the home he meant had been Shawn’s once too. “Why should I?”

Roscoe’s lips parted, that tongue again swiping over his bottom lip. “I want you to.”

Shawn snorted, clutching at the backpack he held in his lap. “You can’t always get what you want.”

“But you can get what you need.”

****************************

Click here for the site’s main page for Much Ado

Happy New Year!

It’s not Max and Ferris from Obsession and As A Plate, but how about Grant the photographer and Nicky, a model?

Make Me Yours

http://selenaillyria.com/2009/11/paranormal-thanksgiving-week-jet-mykles/

Available in ebook from Loose Id

FYI, this story is a big spoiler for One For The Team. If you haven’t read it and don’t want to know what happens, stop here.

OFTT is a m/f story. This story is about Jason and Davey, two of Jen’s best friends. I assure you, it becomes m/m but it starts out m/f/m.

BLURB:

Others might be fooled into thinking Davey is just a computer nerd, but Jason knows better. He knows his geeky best friend is wicked to the core. So, he shouldn’t be surprised when Davey lures him into a threesome on the night of their friends’ wedding. Two guys and one girl turns out to be a pretty terrific thing, especially when watching Davey have sex is almost as exciting as knowing Davey is watching him. And the girl doesn’t seem to mind either.

One threesome leads to more, but then something changes. Now, when Davey touches him, it’s a whole new ballgame. Jason likes it…a lot, and he likes it even more when they try sex without the girl. Who knew?

But Jason’s troubles are just beginning. He sees newfound depths in their friendship. Depths he’s willing to explore. Too bad Davey doesn’t feel the same.

The past has taught Davey that happily ever after doesn’t exist and Jason is afraid he’ll never be able to change Davey’s mind.

Will Jason be able to convince his stubborn friend that true love is possible for their two man team?

Here’s a taste of the first chapter as it now stands. Takes place right after Jen and Ken’s wedding.

***********************

©2009 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

They’d all figured Jen could handle it. None of them had intended to change their friendship or turn it into anything long-term. Just friends having fun. Then Ken had thrown a wrench into the works. Or, as he claimed, Jen had mucked it up by sleeping with Jason, Bart, and Davey but refusing to sleep with him. Jason had to admit that would have ticked him off too. Looking back on the one night when the five of them had been together, Ken was the only one who hadn’t done more than kiss Jen. Of course, she’d stayed the night with him when the rest of them had gone home. That was the night Ken had seen the proverbial light and asked Jen to marry him. Jason was happy for them. He was. Looking at them now, he wondered why no one had seen that they were meant for each other before.

But that didn’t help him tonight. Clearly, if he was going to find companionship, he would have to go elsewhere.

Setting his glass down on the pristine white tablecloth, he stood. Jen and Ken were busy, so he chose not to bother them. He’d already bestowed his congratulations on the happy couple, and he’d see them at work on Wednesday anyway since they weren’t going on their honeymoon until November. Because the restaurant was open for regular diners tonight as well, Bart would be busy.

Where was Davey? The little snot was his ride home, which was the only reason he was still drinking. Last time he’d seen the other man had been when there were still people dancing on the miniature floor. That had to have been an hour or so ago. As he meandered toward the door leading out of the banquet room, Jason pulled out his cell and sent a text to his friend: Where r u?

Once out of the room, he edged around a small dining area toward the buzz of conversation that surrounded the bar. The area was pretty typical of an upscale restaurant like Bart’s. Up two steps and Jason was surrounded by shining polished wood, mirrors, and muted lighting. A few minitables were scattered in the open area on one side, but the main focus was the long bar with the bottles of booze behind on mirrored shelves. There were only about a dozen people there, and he recognized a few from the wedding. He waved to Ken’s sister with her hubby and Tina and Dan from work, but headed for the end of the bar. He took a barstool and watched a few pitches in the Pirates/Brewers game while he waited for Jake, the bartender, to finish up and bring him another.

“Damn,” he muttered to himself, watching the roll of scores across the bottom of the plasma screen mounted on the wall. Mets won again. That meant his beloved Braves were another game down. It was a damn sure bet they weren’t going to make it to the play-offs this year.

He was halfway through another Black Russian and well into the next inning of the Rockies/Giants game when Davey finally texted him back. He flipped open the phone to read the message: Come. Back lot.

The parking lot in the back? “Why?” he asked the phone aloud, knowing full well it wouldn’t answer. So he texted it: Why?

A moment later came the reply: Just come.

Typical Davey. No explanation, just an expectation of obedience. Had he moved his car? If so, why? No telling with Davey, of course. He followed his own rules for everything.

Sighing, Jason stood, then downed his drink and paid for it while grimacing at the onslaught of rich coffee liqueur down to his gullet. He hoped whatever Davey had in mind was worth it. He didn’t drink Black Russians often, and he preferred to savor them.

Well acquainted with the layout of the restaurant, he headed for the darker hallways that led to the restrooms. Beyond the johns was another hall that led both to the manager’s office and employees’ lockers. There was also a fire door that led to the back parking lot. Once outside, he took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the harsh fluorescent lighting directly overhead that cast faux moonlight in the immediate vicinity. The parking lot in back only held ten spaces, meant for kitchen staff and managers. Bart’s Beemer sat directly outside the door.

It took a moment, but Jason finally located Davey leaning against the dark shadow of his deep blue Mustang GT at the very edge of the halo of light. His white dress shirt and light-colored slacks stood out against the black background of the trees that stood beyond the pavement, as did the bright pink T-shirt of the girl pressed against him.

What the hell? Jason scowled. Was he going to have to find another way home? That little shit.

Having heard the door open, Davey waved him over with one arm while keeping the other wrapped around the girl.

Muttering to himself, Jason descended the three cement steps of the stoop and crossed the lot. He really shouldn’t begrudge his buddy finding a date. Wasn’t he hoping to do the same thing?

She was cute, too. A little under Davey’s height, which put her around five feet four or five, she had that hair that wasn’t quite brunette and wasn’t quite blonde but was kind of both, cut short, level with her rounded chin. She had a slim little body with a tight belly shown off by the way her T-shirt rode up because her arms were around Davey’s neck. When she turned to grin at Jason, he guessed she was around their age, with a bright smile and carefully plucked eyebrows. He couldn’t tell the color of her eyes because it was too dark in the lot.

Jason stopped a few paces away from them and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks. “What’s up?”

Davey grinned, the lenses of his thick-rimmed glasses catching a glint from the light behind Jason. “This is Tacy.”

The girl unwound her arms and turned to face Jason but kept her hip snuggled up against Davey. She extended a hand to Jason. “Stacy without the S. Hi.”

He took it, mustering a smile. Maybe she had a friend inside. “Hi.”

Her fingers slid over his palm as their hands parted, and she gave him a warm little grin that he couldn’t decipher.

Keeping his eyes on Jason, Davey rubbed her back, making her T-shirt ride up her belly a little more. With the dip of her low-rise jeans, there was a nice bit of soft flesh visible. “Tacy’s never had two guys at once. I told her we could probably accommodate her. What do you think?”

Jason blinked. Then his jaw dropped. “Huh?”

Tacy giggled, propping her back up against Davey so he could slide his arms around her from behind.

Davey wasn’t even fazed by what he’d said. “Tacy wants to do us.”

She giggled again. “Or you do me.”

One of Davey’s thumbs tucked into the waistband of her jeans, right behind the button. “Some of both.”

Jason’s gaze snagged on that thumb, his imagination filling in what was right near it. “You guys are serious?”

“Oh yeah,” Tacy assured him.

“Do I know you?”

She pulled away from Davey and closed the distance to Jason. Blue. Her eyes were blue. “Not yet.” She let that blue gaze rake him up and down before she spread her palms over his chest, slipping them underneath the lapels of his jacket to lightly press his nipples. “But we can fix that.”

He glanced over her shoulder. Davey remained where he was, arms now folded across his chest. His head was cocked to the side, shiny, straight brown hair falling to the side from the tilt of his head. That smug little grin he almost always wore was right there, challenging Jason to take up the offer.

A few months ago, Jason might not have considered it. But after what had happened with Jen this summer, he was caught. That night the five of them had shared sprung to mind. It had been sexy as hell watching the other guys fuck Jen, knowing they were watching when he was inside her himself. All too vividly he could conjure up the memory of Davey, naked and sheened with sweat as he plowed into Jen from behind. He remembered the fevered glee in Davey’s unshielded eyes when their gazes had met over Jen’s back, Davey fucking her while Jen sucked Jason’s cock. It was the single most erotic thing he could remember doing in his life.

The light in Davey’s eyes told Jason he remembered the same thing. And wanted to do it again.

Why the hell not?

His thoughts had taken mere seconds. His gaze returned to Tacy’s by the time she spoke again. “What do you say?”

He grinned down at her, setting his hands on the curve of her hips. “I’m game if you are.”

****************

Click here to visit the site’s main page for Two Man Team