Page 70 of The Locker Room

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Amy Lane

heavy, and that"s what Xander was doing now. Taking over for Chris, so

he didn"t even have to think, didn"t have to do, just had to lie back and

feel.

So Chris was lying back, his thighs spread, his heavy cock in his

hand, stroking it slowly, and squeezing it so hard the head was painfully

purple. Xander had his hands under Chris"s ass, raising it to his mouth,

so he could tongue Chris"s (freshly washed) body until it was loose and

sloppy and waiting.

Chris raised his free hand to his mouth and bit down on it, loosing a

long, drawn-out groan, as Xander replaced his tongue with his fingers,

and then Chris pulled Xander"s hand away and ordered,“Now, Xander,

now!”in his fiercest whisper. Xander was up and inside of him so

quickly the bed didn"t even have time to squeak. One of his feet was

down on the floor, and his other knee was drawn up underneath him, and

Chris"s thighs were slung over his shoulders as he thrust hard and thrust

quickly, watching in wonder as Chris"s eyes rolled back and his body

shuddered, and an arc of come shot over his belly. His hair was cut short,

and had been since they"d arrived, and his shoulders had widened, his

chest had become bulkier, and his muscles were the kind of thing you"d

see in body-building magazines. But his chin was still narrow, and his

eyes, even half-hooded in passion, were still depthless and limpid.

He looked beautiful.

As Chris shuddered around him, Xander came, too, slowly and

with intensity, before he collapsed forward, panting into Chris"s

shoulder.

They were so much better at this than they had been at the

beginning of the summer. Five months of it—even furtively—gave them

some comfort, some ease, and Xander kissed Chris"s ear and found his

mouth for a long, lazy kiss of afterglow. Chris fell away from him and