him, running his palm over the slippery head, then back down to the base. He repeated the action until Stewart, pumping Doug’s cock in time, let out his own deep moan. “Kiss me,” he growled.
With mouths locked together in a frantic, bruising kiss, they stroked each other to climax, hot seed shooting up onto their bellies, coating their hands. Stewart’s mouth ripped away from Doug’s as he cried out, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, face twisted in ecstasy. Doug kept his eyes on Stewart’s face as he rode the wave of bliss, thrusting into his fist as he spent the last of his seed.
Limbs tangled together, they lay still, chests rising and falling as they both caught their breath.
After a few minutes of this, Doug got up and went to the bathroom, and after cleaning himself up, returned to the bed and handed Stewart a hot towel. Stewart wiped himself down, then tossed the towel aside, returning to his previous position on his side, eyes closed, breathing slow and steady. His dark hair had formed ringlets around his ears from sweating and was a bit mussed up from their tumble, and Doug wanted to stroke it and kiss him some more.
But he sensed a pulling back from Stewart already, a barrier gone up now that the sex was over, and he didn’t want to be the one to try and break through it. So he simply climbed back into bed and took his previous position, lying on his side, his head close to Stewart’s.
They stayed there, unmoving and silent, neither of them speaking.
Doug knew that at this point, talking was not necessary. There was nothing to say. No one needed to ask if it had been good for them, they both knew it had. No one needed to ask if they could do it again sometime, because as had already been established, they could not.
As the sweat cooled on their bodies, the room grew chilly, so Doug reached down and pulled the blankets up, covering them. Stewart’s eyes were closed, his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm. Doug reached over and shut out the light.
In the darkness, Stewart stroked little circles on Doug’s shoulder with his fingers. The sensation of Stewart’s gentle touch, and the silence, eventually lulled him off to sleep.
Chapter Six
Doug woke to the sounds of birds chirping, and he sat up, confused for a moment to find himself in the living room. He was alone in the bed. Stewart had left at some point while Doug was still sleeping. He glanced over at what had been Stewart’s pillow, a stab of longing and regret trying to take hold. He forced it back down, taking a deep breath.
I’m a big boy. I can handle it .
His own words came back to taunt him, daring him to disagree. Opting for the distraction of routine, he climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom, then moved to his bedroom to put on his running clothes. Then he went back into the living room and pulled the sheets and blankets off the sofa bed. Stewart’s intoxicating scent accosted his nostrils as he pulled off the pillowcase. With a determined chin, he took the bundle into the laundry room and loaded the washer. Tossing in a few other items, he poured in the soap and started the machine.
There. All gone. Washed away. No problem. He’d had terrible crushes before. They always faded after a while. It would be no different with this. He’d been through far worse in the past year than longing for a man he couldn’t have. This was child’s play. Piece of cake.
In the kitchen he chugged down some water, then grabbing his iPod, headed out the front door. Stopping on the front lawn, he used the porch steps to stretch his legs. His muscles were stiff and sore today, and he hurt in places that were usually immune to his workout.
Sex muscles .
Tossing Stewart’s ample body around had left its mark. He looked down at his groin as he felt his cock begin to swell. “Don’t you start,” he whispered. He continued stretching, forcing himself to think about dung and vomit and very old nuns, anything but last night. Eventually