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Released March 2, 2010
Gordon looked deep into Dennis’ eyes and Dennis found he couldn’t turn away. He felt something electric arcing between them like live current. Gordon leaned forward, closing his eyes, parting his lips, the invitation clear.
Dennis pulled back, though his lips were actually tingling with anticipation. “Ah, Gordon. I can’t…”
“You can’t kiss me?” Gordon opened his eyes. He moved his hand from Dennis’ thigh to his crotch, resting it lightly over the bulge. “Why not? I want it. I want to kiss you. Come ‘ere…” His voice was slurred.
“You’re drunk.” Despite himself, Dennis’ cock swelled beneath Gordon’s touch.
“So? Here.” Gordon picked up the scotch bottle and waved it toward Dennis. “Have a few mouthfuls of this. Then you’ll be drunk too.” Dennis stared at Gordon, at his eyes hooded with lust and the promise in his sensual half-smile.
All at once Dennis grabbed the bottle and tipped it to his lips. Why not? Why the fuck not? The liquor burned going down, hitting his stomach and spreading rapidly to his limbs. “God damn you, Gordon Flanders,” he said softly. “How the fuck can I say no?”
He closed his eyes against the look of triumph in Gordon’s, needing the kiss too much to care. His hands and mouth seemed to have a mind of their own. He reached blindly for Gordon, catching him in a strong embrace as their lips met. Eagerly, almost desperately, he explored Gordon’s mouth.
Gordon was stroking his back and shoulders as their tongues moved together. Greedily, Dennis ran his fingers through Gordon’s thick, curling hair, at the same time pulling him closer. He was aware of his heart banging against the curve of his ribs. Ah, god, this mattered too much, too much.
Dennis pulled back, trying to compose himself, to catch his breath. Gordon opened his eyes, his lips still parted from their kiss, gleaming in the soft light. His eyes were shining. He reached out, again putting his large hand over Dennis’ crotch. Dennis was achingly hard, and Gordon’s touch triggered a shudder of lust he couldn’t control. He tried to fight it, but knew he was going under.
Gordon reached for the bottle again. He poured, completely missing the glass and dumping several ounces over his lap and splashing a little on Dennis as well. “Shit,” he said, laughing. “I guess I’m thinker than I drunk I am.” He offered a goofy grin.
Dennis stood abruptly, taking the bottle from Gordon’s hand. This was not how it was going to happen with Gordon. If it happened at all. “You’ve had enough. You’re a mess. I’m going to go—”
“No!” Gordon grabbed Dennis’ arm. “Don’t go. Please. Don’t go. I’m sorry. I was fooling around. I’m not that drunk.”
“Yeah, right,” Dennis snapped.
“No, really. Look, I’ll just jump in the shower. That’ll sober me up. Two seconds. Don’t go, please?” Gordon reached for Dennis’ face, running his fingers down Dennis’ cheek and pressing them lightly against his lips. “Wait for me, okay?” His voice was filled with promise.
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Posted by Claire Thompson at 4:46 PM