Page 12 of Survivor
Two hours, six beers, and three more shots later, Frank pulled out his phone and set up an Uber, waving to Justine and Caleb as their taxi left the parking lot. There was never more than a five-minute wait for an Uber in that area, so setting the service up before he was ready to go was a waste of time. Thunder could be heard in the distance, rain starting to softly fall just as Frank settled into the back seat of the gray Prius. They seemed to be the cars of choice for Uber drivers, the Prius and other hybrids that got far better gas mileage. His phone vibrated in his hand, a text message alert. Swiping the screen, he read the new message from Trevor, his favorite flight attendant.
Trevor: Hey sexy pants. I’m on an overnight layover at Love Field, want some company?
Frank grinned, responding with a few quick taps of his thumbs on the keyboard screen of his phone.
Frank: Hell Yes!!!!
Trevor: On my way!
Pocketing his phone, Frank smiled at his reflection in the window. This was just what he needed, to get laid. It’d been…shit, months since he’d satisfied his wants with something other than his hand, Fleshjack, or the large, purple dildo Caleb had given him for Christmas two years before. That joke was definitely on his partner because Frank rode that damn thing at least once a week. Probably the most thoughtful gift he’d ever given Frank, even if Caleb was oblivious to the fact.
~ ~ ~
“Frankie, baby, I need you inside me now,” Trevor whined, his back arching up off the bed when Frank added a second finger, twisting them and tapping the bundle of nerves in his channel. “Fuck!” Trevor’s tight little body quivered, a hiss falling from his pert, pink lips when Frank removed his fingers, replacing them with his latex-covered cock.
Trevor cried out as Frank buried himself in his ass with one hard push. The saucy flight attendant wrapped his legs around Frank’s waist and shifted his hips, allowing Frank to slide even further into his welcoming body. Leaning down, Frank took Trevor’s mouth, the kiss sloppy and uncoordinated, but who fucking cared? It was always like this with Trevor—fast, furious and satisfying. Frank reminded himself to ask his part-time lover exactly what he did to keep his ass so firm and tight that it was like fucking a virgin each and every time he sank into the man.
Feeling his balls starting to draw up, Frank rolled over onto to his back with Trevor straddling him, not wanting their encounter to end just yet. It’d been far too long since their last tryst, and God only knew how long it would be before they saw each other again.
“Ride me,” Frank ground out between clenched teeth. Trevor was so good at following directions. Using his knees for balance, Trevor thrust his hips; the pace he set was both punishing and erotic. He would lift his body up to where just the tip of Frank’s engorged cock was inside him then slam back down.
“That’s it Trev, fuck yourself on my dick, use me, baby.” Frank teased him with words as well as his hands, running his fingers up his toned abdomen to his nipples, pinching and pulling on the sensitive nubs.
“Touch me, Frankie, please,” Trevor begged, eyes closed, lips parted. Frank happily wrapped his fingers around Trevor’s weeping cock and in just two quick strokes, the man shot his load all over both their bellies as he screamed and bucked in the wake of his orgasm. Frank pushed up into him fast and hard until he too found his release.
They fell onto the bed, covered in sweat and come, breathless but sated. After a few minutes, he managed to pull himself up to dispose of the condom and wash up. Rinsing a rag with warm water, he carried it back out to Trevor, but he was already fast asleep. Frank gently wiped his chest and stomach, tossing the cloth toward the hamper in the corner before climbing back into the bed and covering them both with the sheet. Trevor muttered something, rolling over and laying his head on Frank’s chest.
He and Trevor had met nine years earlier when Frank was flying to New Orleans to meet up with some friends from college for Jazz Fest. He could remember how enamored he was with the personable flight attendant from the start. At barely five foot eight, Trevor made up for any inches one might think he was lacking with his bubbly personality. He was charismatic, eccentric, and fan-fucking-tastic in bed. Slender but fit with shoulder-length, jet-black hair and eyes the color of emeralds, Trevor was effeminate and captivating. They’d tried dating, but it was hard to sync schedules so they came to an agreement instead. Friends with benefits as long as it worked for them both. No strings, no commitments, and no hurt feelings if either one contacted the other and found they were otherwise occupied. They’d gone from nights spent in no-tell motels, reserved out of necessity, to Trevor staying with Frank at his apartment when he was in town and they were able to arrange a… sleepover.
Exhausted, Frank reached over and turned the bedside lamp off and pulled Trevor closer, wanting to feel the warmth of the body heat the man emitted. As tired as he was, he couldn’t fall asleep right away. His mind was still playing the conversation with Justine on a repeat loop, as brief as it was, her words moving across the inside of his eyelids when he closed them, like letters on a movie screen.
Have you told Taylor how you feel? Don’t you think you should?
