Page 67 of The Locker Room

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there was nothing but lovely tanned skin as Xander came and kissed his

neck and nibbled on Chris"s jaw and chin, his own body still absolutely

shivering from the pressure and the arousal and the absolute furious

need.

“Jesus, Xander, you"re shaking like a poodle here. Could you give

me a clue or something?”

Xander groaned and grabbed his hand, shoving it under the leg of

his shorts and begging, shamelessly pleading, said, “God, Chris, please?”

Chris felt the handle of the plug and his eyes widened, and he gave

the thing an experimental yank. It pulled out, sliding down Xander"s

thigh under the shorts, and Xander managed to control his flop onto the

bed, where he lay, facedown, while Chris stripped off both their shorts,

wrapped a strong arm around his middle and hauled his dilated ass up

and ready for plundering.

Chris"s cock followed in short order, and Xander gibbered into the

hotel comforter in gratitude. Oh God, it was everything he"d promised,

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Amy Lane

every frisson of his skin was singing the praises of being mercilessly,

gloriously, amazingly ass-fucked by the person he trusted the most.

They reached, they reached, they reached feverishly for the

precipice of orgasm, hurled each other over it and howled release,

Xander into the pillows wadded up in his mouth, and Chris into Xander"s

shoulder as he bit down, hard, and spilled.

The whole world quaked under their knees as they recovered,

Chris"s arms wrapped around Xander"s middle so tightly Xander thought

he might be absorbed into his lover"s skin.

He welcomed the feeling.

It didn"t happen, of course. Sex always has a slide into afterglow,

and some slides are quicker and more frightening than others. This one

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