Hello Kitty and Manilow Mania


“Her name was……….Lola……….She was a……….showgirl……….Yellow feathers in her hair……….and a dress cut down to there,” JC hummed and sang softly, absently, to himself as he sauntered around the downstairs great room and glanced from one pillar candle to another, then from a flower-shaped votive to a square chunky one and then to a tri-colored spherical one, trying to decide how many to light at once.

Justin, JC knew better than most anyone, could be very fussy — Okay, ladies and cats. Who are we fooling here? Dude could be all-out bitchy at times — if disagreeable scents from the lit wax started commingling and conflicting as they wafted in a confined area so that they “mutated into some heinous, evil hybrid spawn-of-Satan odor that stank worse than three-fucking-day-old dog piss. Goddamnit!”

Yes, JC was aware. Well aware of the potential consequences. Well aware that he didn’t want to mismatch the aroma of calypso coconut with, say, exotic musk or the essence of cucumber melon with, oh, cinnamon sugar. Indeed no. Wouldn’t be in anyone’s best interest at all. Head off and avoid diva tantrums whenever possible. Yes. That was the key, JC was aware.

“Music and passion were always in fashion at the Cooooooopaaaah,” he purred, hitting each note with perfect pitch and flair and holding out the “Co-” part much longer than necessary.

His bare kneecap brushed against the arm of one of the room’s leather sofas as he breezed by it, and the sleek silk of his short robe slid delicately across his butt cheeks, the combined sensations sending a body-wave of shivers rolling all over him. He pushed a straggly soft dark curl off his forehead and looked down for a second to make sure he’d remembered to replace his favorite toe ring after that oh-my-god-awesome, long, luxurious shower he’d afforded himself that afternoon.

Yep. There it was, just below the first joint of his second toe, a small band of ghosted platinum embedded with three tiny carnation-pink sapphires that glinted upward at him, flirtingly. In all of his collection, that one he fancied most. And he wore it most when he was just chilling alone and comfortable at home. (*Dude, that bitch rhymed. Good enough to write down? Hmm. Nah. Sucked ass, basically.*)

Well, word, yo, this crib was technically Justin’s. Granted. But The Boy Fantastic has smugly insisted since he’d signed the papers on it that it was theirs to share. And not just to “jointly occupy,” but to “live and love in together,” to be their “peaceful sanctuary from the rest of the world.”

“This pad’s our own little niche in the chaos around us, sweetness, the warm, safe place where we can be ourselves and be with each other exactly how we want to be. No fuckheads messing with us, you know? A place for us. That’s all I could hear banging around in my head when I found it, babe. Our home.”

So Justin had explained in whispers that night after the closing, over a quiet dinner in JC’s semi-dark dining room. And then he’d smiled like morning dawning and reached his long arm across the candlelit table to fold his hand around JC’s and hold it tightly and warmly. For emphasis. As if that hushed windswept voice and those deep incandescent-blue eyes hadn’t been enough.

JC had no problem calling it home here. Never had. This “Sprawling Province of Timberlake,” as he jokingly called it, was about 87 times the size of his own house. And, besides, at the end of the day, this place had Justin. *His* place had Carlos and whatever skank — male or female, since Carlos wasn’t choosy — he’d dragged in off the street to bang on any given night. Here would do just fine for JC, thankyouveryfuckingmuch.

“This one’s for you, wherever you are……….to say that nothing’s been the same since we’ve been apart,” he belted out again in the cavernous room, still inspecting his toes as they wriggled in the flip-flops below. “Like everything else I have……….this one’s for you.”

Damn that Barry Manilow Greatest Fucking Hits info-mercial he’d sat through about 179 times that morning. The one with the scrolling song titles and blaring sappy tunes that were a “must-have for every music aficionado’s collection!” *“Order in the next 24 hours and get the TV advertisement jingles absolutely FREE!”*

It had been after Justin reluctantly crawled out of bed to get ready for a meeting with Jive. Not having any obligations like that of his own today, JC had stayed in bed and buried himself under the downy plushness of the soft covers and fluffy pillows, inhaling the faint lingering scent from their lovemaking the night before and groaning when the heat from Justin’s svelte body began to fade.

Later, all dressed and refreshed, Justin had returned to the bedroom bearing gifts — a steaming mug of _mocha latte and a gentle warm kiss good-bye. “Be back as soon as I can, sweetness. I’ll ring ya later. ‘Kay?”

Then, after JC had awakened properly and propped himself up on a stack of the pillows to sip his caffeine, had come the endless lame parade of daytime TV, including those asinine 27-minute cable commercials that cast voodoo spells on your brain and make you a slave to ‘70s and ‘80s pop music you can’t get out of your fucking head. Barry Giant-Schnoz Manilow, for instance.

“You came and you gave without taking……….But I sent you away, ooooohhhhh, Mandy,” he crooned, loudly and beautifully and oh-so-expressively and to no one but himself. Then he realized what he’d just uttered. The glaring fallacy of it.

“Mandy? A girl? Fuck that……….Ooooohhhhh, RANDY……….You kissed me and stopped me from shaking……….And I need you today, ooooohhhhh, Randy.” He giggled and figured, also to no one but himself, that he had that bitch of a song nailed, sounding at least three notches better than ol’ Barry Chic-alow himself.

“*Man*ilow. Right,” JC giggled under his breath and adjusted the long, shimmering sash of his short robe. “That fucker’s queerer than me and J put together. Always has been. Hell, that’s probably what he wants too — a *man* down low. Haha……….And I’ll bet some good money he’d go totally thumbs-up on my self-taught pedicure here, man. Dude looks like he could appreciate a nice shade of iridescent fuchsia splashed across his toenails like such. Check it out. I’ll bet he knows all about how attractive it makes you feel to add a spot of color to your feet. You know, give yourself a little unique style……….It’s cool. And, man, I’m getting good at this……….These dawgs practically *shine*, bay-bee.”

He whispered and grinned and watched his toes dance around together against the soft leather of the thronged slippers under his feet. It occurred to him, vaguely, that he really should try to cut back on having entire conversations out loud with himself. Especially ones that involved Barry Man-I’m-Gay and fuchsia toenail polish. Because, see, that might make him look foolish ridiculous or something of that odd nature, if anyone ever — God forbid — found out.

“I read your letters when you’re not here……….But they don’t move me, and they don’t groove me,” he decided to sing instead. And it was quiet and soulful while he earnestly closed his eyes, feeling the memory of the upbeat little melody drift through him, taking control of him. “Like when I hear your sweet voice whispering in my ear……….Ain’t nothing like the real thing, baby. Ain’t nothing like the real thing.”

He smiled when that unexpected fluttery sensation exploded in his stomach, and he realized he’d pressed a palm to his heartbeat as he stood there swaying to the music. Justin — his very own personal “real thing” — would be back in an hour or so, and JC wanted everything here at “home” to be perfectly swell. It wasn’t any particularly *special* evening, specifically, just one of their last ones together before Justin had to hit Europe on tour again and before JC got inundated with bustling promo publicity for his own looming *Schizophrenic* release.

So it was special for being rare and on the endangered species list, at least for now. And JC wanted to make the most of it while they still could. He’d been working on “specializing” it all afternoon — Well, actually, for much longer than that, but we’ll reserve those scrumptious morsels of detail future surprises, eh?

After his latte in bed, and with the damn Barry tunes ringing obnoxiously and unfuckingcontrollably in his brain, he’d thrown on some boxer briefs and gone online to peruse the menu of that Italian joint called Madeo he’d found in West Hollywood (of course), which he figured would be a welcome change over the takeout from Chi they’d been munching on often lately. Then he’d called in the large order and run over in the Mercedes to pick it up about an hour afterward.

So that was it, simple enough. Dinner was arranged. Authentic, romantic Italian for two. Waiting in the fridge. Requiring only some popping in the oven to heat up and popping corks on some wine to catch a buzz. All set and in place. Done deal.

Ah, now for the candles.

Arms up and out loosely beside him, JC spun himself in a lazy twirl around the small carpeted area between a chair and a sofa and snickered. He had the ideal aromatic, radiant combination. It had hit him right then, courtesy of Inspiration via Manilow.

Hyacinth petals and summer rain. Bingo. Brilliant.

“I write the songs that make the WHOLE WORLD SING. I write the songs of LOVE AND SPECIAL THINGS,” he serenaded the sacred chosen candles boisterously, throwing his arms wide and high for dramatic effect. “I am MUSIC, and I write the SONGS!”

Okay. Well. Maybe he didn’t. You know. Write the songs that make the whole world sing. Not yet. Justin did. Right now. And someday, JC had the highest of hopes, the world (or at least a damn big-ass portion of it) would be bopping their little heads to the rhythm and chanting out the lyrics to *his* songs too. And then he and Justin and their big-ass dreams would rule The World. Together. Perhaps, yes.

“All right now, where’s the fucking lighter,” he hissed as he stopped his song-and-dance solo performance for the furniture in the great room and glanced around with a pleased half-smile/half-smirk. “I’ve got to get some scents happening up in this mutha.”

He’d submersed and lost himself in the hot, steamy decadence of the shower after the grub retrieval. The act of showering was, after all, one of his most beloved pastimes after sleeping and being in all-over-each-other scenarios with Justin, of course. Actually, he adored sharing the warm, wet, rainy stall with Justin too, even more so than being in there alone. But if that wasn’t possible, he could daydream about it, couldn’t he? Fuck, yes, he could.

And he did. Earlier today.

Pelting streams of water so hot it blistered his skin to a sheen of crimson and seemed to seep into his very pores, enflaming him with new life that felt clean and golden-red, cascading in heated waves down his body and trickling feverishly over his newly-pierced nipples, causing them to swell and ache with the memory of Justin’s wicked tongue gently lapping at them and darting in and out of the small gold hoops that hung from them just days ago.

Justin had been fascinated out of his mind — blown the fuck away, in fact — when he’d first laid eyes on the sexy little body ornamentations JC had gotten the balls to have done in SoBe on New Year’s Eve. He’d whispered his approval in hot, moist breaths onto JC’s bare skin and hadn’t been able to get enough of their erotic new feel and taste, covering each of them with his soft lips to probe delicately and sensuously and maddeningly. JC had squirmed against his mouth and snickered at the pleasurable sensations aching through his body and had been glad inside that he could still surprise his lover after all this time.

And in the stinging shower this afternoon, remembering the wet hungry caresses, JC had almost given in to the grinding urge to graze his fingertips across the tight tiny buds, trail the touch over his ribcage and abdomen, and slide a slick grip up and down his hardening cock until he was gasping out Justin’s name and shooting what resembled pearly liquid soap against the shower stall’s wall.

He’d refrained, however. He’d preferred to wait for Justin’s up-close attentions rather than merely jerk off to the memory of them. There would be plenty of time for such jerking off in the near future. Damn that shit to hell.

He sighed through a small smile as he brushed the backs of his fingers over the cool silk that draped his nipples now. They responded immediately with hot tremors and tingles that pranced through him deliciously. Sweet anticipation.

One more info-mercial ditty sashayed its way across his consciousness as he sashayed around the room lighting the holy chosen candles he was sure would “enhance the mood.” He felt good. Inside and out. All over. And he had every intention of making Justin feel that all-over good too.

As the tiny flames blazed and sizzled with the wicks and burned into the wax, he sang again, softly and warmly, and smiled at the irony of the lyrics. “Step aside, partner. It’s my day……….Bend an ear and listen to my version……….of a really solid Tennessee excursion……….Pardon me, boys……….Is that the Chattanooga Choo-Choo?”

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Justin pretended he was invisible and stood in the shadows of the short hallway that led from the massive kitchen to the great room, watching. Watching JC. Watching JC when JC had no idea he was putting on a heart-stopping show for him. Watching JC’s every unintentionally-sultry liquid movement, listening to his beautiful lilting voice as he sang those old, mushy love songs, taking in every quick smile that came directly from the heart and spread across that pretty mouth, catching the colorful flash of his eyes as he glanced around, unaware that he was on display.

He’d finished his meeting with some of the Jive execs earlier than planned and had stolen home at breakneck speed in the Porsche, not wanting to waste any of the precious limited time he had left to be with JC. Stealthily and as quietly as a kitten, he’d entered the house through the basement and slipped up the stairs, where he was met with the soft sounds of JC’s rendition of “Copacabana.” Grinning, he’d crept into the hallway where his eyes could drink in the sight that always made his heart take itself a paid vacation down to his knees.

*Sometimes I see him standing there by the door, in plain view, just like a regular person. And he’s so clear and radiant he hurts my eyes.*

He loved watching him like this, covertly, feeling tingly all over, whether JC was tooling around between their furniture so gracefully and nonchalantly in whatever skimpy attire he felt most comfortable wearing, or fussing and fidgeting with some small neurotic detail about his half of their expansive walk-in closet upstairs, in the corner known to them only as The Pink Haven where he kept all items in his favorite shade of the rainbow.

Wearing only his new flip-flops from Miami and what looked to be a short, flimsy robe that brushed his thighs about half-way up, JC bent over gracefully, while his secret admirer admired, to set fire to the final scented pillar he was lighting with his long, tapered fingers that reminded Justin of slender candlesticks themselves. The hem of the robe rode up slightly to give a teasing glimpse of the taut lower curves of JC’s ass. And Justin had to take a few deep breaths so that he wouldn’t spontaneously combust.

They hadn’t made love all day, damnit, and Justin heard his body calling out for everything that man’s — HIS man’s — body had. No denying it. He craved JC’s every inch. And being closer to JC right then seemed to be the only thought burning in his head.

“Hey there……….Devil with a pink robe on……….Looking might fine there, you are,” he feathered out for the atmosphere as he stepped forward.

Startled, JC jumped a little and whirled around to see him. The grin was bright and beautiful and instant and took over his entire face. “Mauve, Justin. Puhlease. This is *not* pink.”

Justin had crossed the room silently, as agile as a cheetah, and was on him in less than a heartbeat. His major-league grin came back, like the sun rising and lighting up everything around, and he let his fingertips skim down the smooth silk covering JC’s bicep.

“Fine, sweetness. Mauve then, if that’s the way you want it. It sure feels nice.”

JC swayed closer so that their abdomens and hips barely pressed together and swept over Justin’s face with eyes the lavender-blue color of forget-me-nots. “You like it?” he whispered thickly.

“I like it on you.”

“Not too……um……fem?”

“Never, baby,” Justin rasped breathily because JC had raised his hand to trace the outline of Justin’s wet lips with an index finger. “You know I’m down with everything you wear……….and don’t wear.”

JC laughed quietly, and it was like water coming over a waterfall, sparkling and frothing. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah. I, uh. I wrapped things up as fast as I could. So I could get back here. To be with you again.” Justin heard himself speaking in short, choppy phrases. It was all he could do to get even those out. Considering the slow, aching grind JC was doing with their crotches.

“How about the scent, babe? Agreeable with you?”

Justin made a conscious effort to take in some air (since he’d forgotten to do so ‘til now) and realized that his head was already filled with the arousing essence of whatever cologne JC was wearing — fresh and crisp like ocean spray underscored by mint nuances, spiced with coriander. Probably a powerfully hypnotic potion designed to keep his lover under his wild, sexual control, Justin figured. And that was fine by him.

“Smells sinfully good. What’s it called?” he asked in a whisper and bent forward to graze JC’s neck with his mouth and sniffed again.

JC squirmed against him and moved into the touch. “Not me, goof-ass. The candles. I matched up the scents perfectly. The way you like.”

“YOU are the way I like. Always,” Justin whimpered as his lips moved over JC’s throat and lapped down along his collarbone. He held JC’s small waist with his big hands and drove his groin into the other one again. “What’s this fragrance for real, sweetness? Fuck, I wanna get you lots more of it.”

“Cool Water. Davidoff makes it………And you’re tickling me, you giant perv!” JC giggled and pressed closer into Justin’s body. Not anxious at all to escape the “torture.”

Justin moaned and raised his head again to face him. “The candles smell terrific too, Jace. Seriously. Way romantic, and I love it. You and whatshisface — that Manilow cat — did a fucking awesome job, baby. Or should I call you, um, Lola?”

Slowly, the mischievous little smirk began to twitter in the blue of Justin’s eyes, and the small saucy smile began to curl up the corners of his mouth. JC huffed, squinted his eyes to slits, and slapped at Justin’s arm.

“You arrogant fucking BRAT! How long were you spying on me, you stalker loser bitch?”

Justin threw his head back and laughed in his patented cottony tone and tightened his grip on JC’s hips to drag him nearer. “Long enough to get a glimpse of that fine ass and get myself all worked up……….And you sound like an angel singing. Even if it IS *his* songs. You know I can’t get enough of that shit, sweetness. You make the room come alive with just your sexy body in it.”

JC sneered and wrinkled his nose playfully but kept his hand fastened to Justin’s upper arm, which caused his loosely tied robe to fall open a bit more at the middle of his chest. “Ah, the handsome Mr. JT’s so full of compliments today. He must be thinking he’s getting laid.”

Justin had most definitely been thinking he was getting laid. His swollen erection was counting on it big and hard, straining against the zipper in his jeans. But the flash of something bright and silvery inside the layer of silk had caught his eye, and his peaked interest made him move his hand upward and pull back the material enough to get a better view.

And that was the moment when his heart broke loose from its regular spot in his ribcage and started making its way down into his gut. JC had replaced yellow-gold hoops that pricked his dark-red nipples with miniature silver barbells, and each tiny ball on both sides was a round pinkish gemstone that sparkled and shimmered in the candlelight.

Justin was breathless, slipping the robe open further and gawking. His fingertips brushed over the little mounds of hard flesh and their jewelry, gently tracing circles and caressing. JC’s inhaled hiss jammed thickly in his throat, and he shivered against the delicate touch.

“Ah, baby……….Now I think I know the meaning of addiction……….Fuck. That is so……….hot.”

“So……….you like?” JC said, a straggled whisper against Justin’s bristly cheek.

“Fuck yeah……….I love,” Justin groaned back and lowered his mouth to one of the dark buds on JC’s chest, spiked as it was all the way through with a glimmering stud. “What color are the little bells, baby?” He breathed moist fire over the sensitive flesh and lapped at it tenderly. “‘Cause I know it couldn’t be, say, *pink*.”

“Primrose,” JC whimpered and pushed his throbbing crotch into Justin’s hard thigh.

“Primrose-n-silver barbells……….Only you, sweetness……….and you work ‘em better than anybody ever……….I swear to God.”

“Thanks, babe,” JC purred and pulled the robe open a little more as Justin’s lips and tongue moved their wet heat over to the other adorned tit. “They……….Shit, your mouth is heaven, J……….They complement my nail polish.”

In no hurry to let up off his tasty treat, Justin rolled his tongue around each tight little nub again and sucked them both between his moist lips individually, making them swell and tingle and making JC wince and moan. Then, slowly, he stopped his savoring, raised his head, and glanced down at JC’s perfectly pedicured toes.

“Wow. You’re just colorful as fuck all over today, aren’t you, Jace? I’m loving every ounce of this shit.”

JC smiled, very pleased. Then he slid his palm down Justin’s arm and clasped their hands together while wiggling his toes. “That’s called ‘Sheen of Fuchsia.’ It’s got that iridescent, glowy kind of effect……….I did it myself.”

Justin swallowed with great effort and felt his cock growing bigger and harder and fighting to get out of his jeans so that it could molest JC. Strangely, JC’s feet had always turned him on. And JC’s *decorated* feet were certainly doing a fucking number on his appetite for fucking right then.

“Whoa. That’s sexy, man. Very sexy. They match the twinkly stones in your bitty toe ring too.”

JC watched Justin’s eyes as he spoke, to be sure he was genuine. “Does it make *me* look like a twink, J? For real. Tell me the truth.”

Justin shot his piercing blue gaze up to JC’s face and brought JC’s hand, folded in his own, to his mouth. He blinked slowly and smiled as he kissed the backs of JC’s fingers. “Baby, no. No fucking way. You’re beautiful.”

JC instinctively pressed the length of his body closer against Justin’s and grinned. He sincerely *felt* beautiful at that moment, especially after hearing the words float like airborne velvet from Justin’s mouth.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

“Pretty-in-pink on the fingernails too, baby?” Justin asked then as his eyes wandered over the rest of JC’s hand.

The huge grin JC wore catapulted to a sharp frown. “It’s not PINK, damnit! Have you no sense of aesthetics at all? That shade is ‘Sliver of Moonlight.’ It’s a glossy cameo color.”

“I’m sorry, Jace. My bad. I have a tendency to be a major ass sometimes……….But it sure is lovely, I gotta say,” Justin insisted and touched the lightly coated nails to his lips again. And he gasped against them when the lead-pipe erection under JC’s robe brushed roughy over the one in his own pants.

“It’s okay, my love,” JC moved in and simpered at Justin’s earlobe before dragging a wet mouth down his throat. “I know all about your ‘tendencies,’ and I’ve decided that maybe you’ll get lucky and get laid today after all.”

“Oh, Jace,” Justin moaned and slipped his hands inside the MAUVE robe to smooth them down the sides of JC’s warm, lean body. “You’re making me so fucking hot.”

JC trembled against him and nipped Justin’s throat with his front teeth when Justin’s roaming touch reached his hips. When Justin’s fingertips caressed over the slick, thin band that stretched around his waist.

“What. The. FUCK.” Justin choked out and backed up one step to stare down at JC’s crotch.

“Surprise, babe,” JC whispered and snickered.

Justin’s wide-eyed gawk broke down into a flushed grin. He reached out to touch the soft, bright leather pouched nestled between JC’s upper thighs that was protruding outward very erotically, full of JC’s very large, very swollen cock.

“Oh, my God,” Justin panted and slid his fingers over the leather-clad mound. “Fuck. That’s so damn sexy, sweetness.”

JC moaned at the fondling of his aching erection and gyrated his pelvis toward Justin’s hand. “The color’s magenta, in case you were wondering.”

Justin sighed. His palm closed around the warm NON-PINK package, and JC gasped. “What I’m wondering, seriously, is if I’m gonna come right here in my jeans looking at you looking this fucking hot……….Damn. You were made to wear a thong, baby.”

“Got it off the Internet……….Had it delivered overnight,” JC rasped as his hips swayed with Justin’s massaging grasp of his cock. “The ‘Hello Kitty’ logo on the band there is fucking corny. But I dig the color. And it feels good too.”

“Hello Kitty? You’ve got to be fucking joking!” Justin laughed, his face tinged scarlet with his screaming lust. “That’s purrrfect for you, Jace!”

“Fuck off, Justin.”

“Right. I’m gonna be fucking *something* here in about a minute.”

“You hope, big boy.” JC smirked. But the truth was that he knew he’d come himself pretty damn soon if Justin’s huge, hot hand kept rubbing him off through that leather barrier. Fuck. This was exactly what he’d been waiting for, needing, wanting.

Justin stopped his hot massage technique then and used both of his hands to reach around JC’s waist and grab two fistfuls of bare JC ass. With a firm grip like that, he was more than able to thrust into the front of JC and grind their hard crotches together. For the ultimate throbbing effect.

“Jacccccce……….I love this thong thing, baby. You really know how to find the good shit when you shop online, don’t you? Open-ass MAGENTA leather cup to hold in all that yumminess……….You’re gonna kill me, I swear.”

JC shrugged the silky robe off his shoulders and let it glide to the floor as he splayed his palms across Justin’s thudding chest. The racing heart inside there felt like his own doing the same thing, and he growled as Justin drove thick heat against his cock and squeezed his ass.

“Let’s……….get your……….clothes off, babe,” he begged hoarsely. “You’re gonna dry-hump me right over the edge.”

“Did the Manilow dude inspire you to do this, sweetness?” Justin murmured and lapped sloppy, wet smooches at JC’s neck.

“Fuck no. I just couldn’t shake those stupid fucking songs looping in my brain.”

“They sounded good.”

“They did not. Shut up.”

“Jace.”

“Justin,” JC whimpered again with the ache in his crotch from Justin’s slow-burn grinding against him.

“I can’t decide what I want more……….to lay you down and fuck the daylights out of you hard and fast……….or to feel you inside me, fucking the daylights out of me hard and fast.”

“How about you get the best of both worlds, babe?” JC whispered and longed to hop up and wrap his legs around Justin’s waist and slide down on his hard penis.

“Sounds awesome. But how?”

“The robe and the thong aren’t the only things I found on the Web.”

“Ah, then. Do tell,” Justin snarled and let his teeth graze down JC’s sleek, salty jaw line while kneading his firm ass.

JC’s answer was temporarily halted as Justin eased his middle finger between the tight ass cheeks and up under the leather strap of the thong that was buried in there. A hiss and shudder overtook him as Justin rubbed at the hot little hole with his fingertip.

“Fuuuuuuccccckkk, Justin……….You trying to make me cream this thing? I just got it, man. Show some respect.”

“Maybe I am.. Isn’t that what it’s for? Creaming?” Justin hissed back at him, their wet mouths brushing against each other. “Was it another dildo you bought, baby?”

“Yessssss……….A big one. Solid-hard and life-like. It is way niiiiiice. And the suction cup on it really fucking works. That baby will stick and hold to anything.”

“You tried it out already?”

JC pinched Justin’s pert nipple. “No, asshole. Not yet. Not like that. You get first dibs.”

Justin pulled back and grinned at him, mega-watt-style. “So you want *it* to fuck me while *I* fuck you?”

JC smiled, with one side of his mouth only. His eyes shone heavy with desire, and his cheeks were flushed and damp. “That’s about how I had it choreographed.”

Justin laughed the smooth, feathery laugh. “All day long I dream about sex, eh?”

“With you.”

“I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so, sweetness……….So where IS this humongous new dong?”

“Upstairs. In the nightstand.”

“Are you ready then?”

“Way past fucking ready, babe.”

“Well, pass me a drink and let’s roll.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Justin didn’t really need or want a drink. He just liked quoting JC’s own lyrics back to him. He also liked the way JC blushed and turned his eyes away when he did that, as if he were just too damn pleased for words. Justin also liked listening to the lyrics and the tunes as well in his subconscious when he was away from JC. They made him feel a tiny bit closer to the one he loved.

Something else Justin liked insanely much — worshipped and craved, in fact — was the feel of JC’s body from the inside. The way JC straddled his lap with quick, feverish breaths and began to ease down on his cock as he stared into his blue, blue eyes intensely and lovingly. The way his cock jerked with hot anticipation as it parted JC’s ass cheeks and found that small puckered opening it was throbbing to penetrate.

The way flames seemed to climb and leap viciously between their nude, sweaty bodies as JC arched his back and lowered that snug heat down around Justin’s length while gazing at him and groaning through parted, full lips all those beautiful incoherent noises that each translated to, “I fucking love you, baby.” The way it felt when Justin rocked upward into JC and every time slammed his own ass back down on the long, thick dildo that was securely suctioned to the chair beneath him and securely shoved far enough up inside him to pound his prostate with each bounce on this heart-stopping ride he and JC were caught up in and drowning under.

The way JC’s cock — freed now from the encasement of the thong and still smelling like the musky leather blended with JC’s own earthy-clean essence — jutted upward between their slick abdomens and leaked warm drops of his excitement all over them.

JC dug into Justin’s shoulders, panting. Justin dug into JC’s hips, snarling. They sweated and groaned and rocked and grunted until their enflamed, aching bodies simply could not hold back any longer.

Justin took JC’s length in his fist and pumped hard while the solid artificial length in his own ass pumped him hard. JC tightened around Justin’s cock when the orgasm shattered through him.

“Damn, J……….I’m……….com—……….”

Justin moved his hands from JC’s waist up JC’s wet back and clawed at the muscles under his finger pads tensing and bunching, while JC’s body tremored with the desperate peak. JC’s head fell backward, and Justin pulled him forward to kiss the shiny, sleek column of flesh. His own release exploded in JC’s smooth, hot depths as the dildo hit his ecstasy button for the pay-dirt time and sent him reeling.

“Fuck, sweetness……….Me too……….God…………damn!”

“I fucking love you……….And I love fucking you too,” JC spat out in fast gasps onto Justin’s collarbone as he slumped against him minutes later. His long arms slipped around Justin’s neck.

“Damn……….You’re so eloquent,” Justin panted into the soft, black-brown curls at his mouth. “I couldn’t have said it better myself……….And I’m down with the all of what you just said……….Same back at ya.”

“You feel like some dinner? I picked up a little something this afternoon……….if you’re hungry.”

“I’m hungry for you,” Justin whispered and wrapped his arms around the slender body lying on him, hugged, and sighed deeply.

“Justin.”

“Jace.”

“There’s always dessert, babe.”

“You’re starving, aren’t you, sweetness?”

“I am now.”

“Then let’s do dinner.”

“And then do each other again.”

“Baby, I *love* the way you think……….Hello Kitty thongs, Barry Manilow songs, and the whole fucking works……….You are the fucking best.”

“Thanks. Same back at ya.”

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

FINI



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