Free Tangled Sheets by Michael T. Ford Page A

drink.”
    â€œMaybe,” he says quickly, and I know that he will, that something in him understands what is being offered. He returns to the game, and after a few minutes during which Ray and I say nothing to one another, he comes back over.
    As we walk home, Ray is silent, and I know that he is hurt that I have asked this boy to come home with us. When we get to the apartment, Ray drops into a chair and stares sullenly at Luis as I get glasses of iced tea from the kitchen. Luis downs his drink in one long swallow, then wipes his mouth on his arm. “That was good,” he says. “I’m feeling better already.”
    I smile at him. “Why don’t you take your shorts off,” I say.
    It is abrupt and evokes the response that I want. Luis looks at me for a moment, surprise turning his face into a frozen mask. He does not know if I am serious, nor what to do if he decides that I am. “I’m not really into that,” he says unconvincingly. “I mean, I’ve never—”
    â€œBut you want to,” I interrupt. “Don’t you.” It is a statement, not a question, and I know it is true. It’s something behind the eyes that tells me, the same thing that told me Ray was ready when I’d seen him three years before pulling himself from the waters of a pool at the gym. The eyes are different, but the need is the same.
    For a moment, anger roils behind his dark brown eyes and he looks as though he might try to leave. But I know that he won’t, that he wants what’s going to happen more than he’s ever wanted anything before. When too much time has gone by, and he realizes that the space during which he could safely leave has slipped away and he has by his inaction committed himself, he begins to take off his clothes.
    Looking first at Ray and then at me, he removes his sneakers and pulls his shorts down, pausing briefly before finally dropping them to the floor and revealing his cock. His body is hairless but for the swatch of closely cropped hair surrounding his prick, which is uncut and very thick. It hangs between his legs proudly, out of proportion to the rest of him. Despite his hesitation, his nakedness has made him easy, and he rubs his balls carelessly with one hand as he waits for me to tell him what to do. I don’t look, but I know Ray is watching intently from his position behind me.
    â€œTurn around,” I tell Luis.
    He turns, and I am rewarded by the sight of the firm globes of his beautiful ass. The flesh is lighter than the surrounding skin, the color of leaves in the fall against the coppery background of his body. The muscles of his back ripple down toward the flawless twin hills, forming a clean line leading into the dark crack that halves the smooth curve of his mounds. He stands with his legs planted apart, and I can see below his sac the foreskin-shrouded head of his cock hanging like a bat wrapped in its wrinkled wings asleep.
    â€œBend over,” I order, the sight of his almost perfect ass pleasing me immensely.
    Luis spreads his legs wider and lowers his torso so that his head is almost even with his knees. His hands are on his thighs supporting him, and his St. Christopher medal swings from his neck. As he moves his head lower, his ass spreads open and a dark pink flower blooms between the cheeks. The lips of his hole are smooth and soft, opened slightly by the stretching demanded of his muscles by the awkward pose.
    I stand behind him, holding an ice cube that I have taken from my glass. Bringing it close to his skin, I move it over his back, the cold whispering above but not touching his flesh. I can sense him tensing with the anticipation of feeling the ice’s touch and tease him by bringing it close, only to pull away again. When I finally press it into a spot between his shoulder blades, I feel him flinch as the cold penetrates his flushed skin.
    I slide the ice over his back and descend toward his buttocks.