Flashfiction -- Sex with a Stranger (X-posted from FFF)
To entertain you in the meantime, here's a flashfiction called "Sex with a Stranger."
This one is DEFINITELY not worksafe!
You've been warned...
Sex with a Stranger
Anthony was not the kind of man who had one-night stands with random men. It just wasn’t in him. Even when he was in college, he didn’t sleep with any of his boyfriends until at least a few weeks into the relationship. For the most part, his relationships had been sexually satisfying, but maybe always being responsible and settled from a young age hadn’t been the best choice. Lately a part of him wanted to cut loose and do something crazy, and damn the consequences!
After thinking about it for weeks, Anthony finally got up the courage to make his fantasy a reality. After work he went straight home and spent much longer than usual showering, choosing his clothing, and fixing his hair. Nerves assailed him as he stared at his reflection. The skintight t-shirt and artfully ripped jeans he wore weren’t his usual style, nor was the spiky, tousled mess he’d gelled his hair into. Maybe he should smash it back down into his normal hairdo? No, he needed something different. Something wild.
He smiled at himself and headed for the door.
He went to the worst dive of a pickup joint he could think of, The Meat Market. The name wasn’t classy, and neither were the décor or clientele. The moment he pushed the scarred, smudged door open, he wondered if he’d made a mistake. There was a reason he had never been here, apparently. The bar was dimly lit with half-burnt-out neon signs and flickering, ancient light fixtures that might have looked decent before decades of dust and mistreatment. The bar itself was scratched and scuffed, and, he found out when he took the empty bar stool at the end, sticky. Ugh. He tried to balance himself on the rickety barstool and turned to look around.
A group of five scruffy biker types played pool over in one corner of the bar. A few others gyrated on the bit of linoleum that passed for a dance floor, clearly either very drunk or high as kites. There were three men at the other end of the bar. One had the look of a seasoned drinker, and another was sixty at the least. The third man had some potential. He was probably early forties, tall and bearish, his face strong if not handsome.
“What can I get for you?”
Anthony turned his attention to the bartender, a heavily tattooed and pierced man who appeared to have tanned himself to shoe leather. His hair was bleached white, and stood up in several strange clumps. Anthony wracked his brain for a suitably wild drink. “I’ll have a Long Island Iced Tea.”
“Put that on my tab.”
The voice sounded like whiskey, warm and smooth and masculine. Before Anthony could even swivel his head to get a glimpse of the whiskey-voiced man, the barstool next to him was occupied. Anthony couldn’t help staring. The guy who’d bought his drink was freaking hot—tall and broad, with dark hair, a chiseled jaw, and soft lips made harder by the sexy five-o-clock shadow surrounding them. He shifted to smile at Anthony, and Anthony lost his breath. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.
“That okay with you?”
“W-what?” Anthony stuttered. His brain couldn’t seem to process anything beyond how hot this guy was.
The guy’s smile widened. “Me buying you a drink?”
“Yeah. It’s cool. I mean, thanks.” Inwardly, Anthony cringed at how stupid he sounded. He was almost thirty years old, and he was acting like a star-struck teenager.
The man seemed more amused than put off. He reached a hand up and traced his fingertips over Anthony’s mouth. “I admit I just wanted to watch you drink it. I want to see you put your mouth on something I bought.”
Anthony shivered. “I’d put my mouth on anything you wanted me to.” Did I just say that?
Blue Eyes leaned closer. His gaze darkened, zeroing in on Anthony’s mouth. “Drink your drink like a good boy, and I just might let you.”
Anthony grabbed the glass that had arrived sometime when he wasn’t paying attention. He slammed the strong alcohol back in as few swallows as possible, then put the glass back on the bar. A surge of daring made him stand beside his stool. “Lead the way.”
Blue Eyes didn’t waste any time. He caught Anthony’s hand and pulled him toward the back of the bar. The shadows deepened until it was nearly pitch-black. Anthony had to rely on the other man to guide him. They approached a door that had definitely seen better days. Blue Eyes pushed it open, revealing a dim, dirty bathroom with two urinals and a single, battered stall. Blue Eyes maneuvered him into the cramped stall and locked the door behind them.
Once in the stall, Anthony’s sense of daring threatened to desert him. It was one thing to want to have wild, crazy sex in a bar bathroom and another to actually do it. The scarred, graffiti-covered walls pressed in on him as he hovered there, uncertain.
Blue Eyes gripped Anthony’s chin until Anthony met his gaze. “This okay?”
Those eyes reassured him. If he backed out, Blue Eyes would not be angry. That made all the difference. Anthony nodded.
The other man smiled, slow and full of want. “You said you’d put your mouth on anything I wanted, so prove it. Suck me.”
No way were his knees touching the nasty bathroom floor. Anthony sat on the edge of the toilet seat and reached for Blue Eyes’ fly. The big man’s worn jeans parted easily for Anthony’s searching hands, and in seconds he had his hands on a hard, smooth dick. He paused for a second to admire what he’d uncovered. It was long and thick, more than proportional to his size. Anthony leaned in and sucked in a deep breath, inhaling clean man and sharp, spicy arousal. Moving slowly, he stuck out his tongue and licked a stripe along the underside.
Blue Eyes hissed and wrapped a large hand along the back of Anthony’s neck. “You’re a tease, aren’t you?”
Anthony smiled up at him but said nothing. Instead, he took the man’s whole cock into his mouth in one smooth surge. He could hear the sounds of stifled pleasure above him as he sucked Blue Eyes with everything he had. He pulled out every trick he knew, from swirling his tongue to humming and deep-throating. Blue Eyes must have appreciated it, if the way his hand tightened on Anthony’s neck and the way he thrust into Anthony’s throat were any indication.
All too soon, Anthony felt the tell-tale stiffening in the other man’s balls, signaling an approaching orgasm. He kept sucking until Blue Eyes came, and swallowed down every thick, creamy drop.
“Jesus Christ.” Blue Eyes yanked Anthony up and pushed him against the stall wall. “That was fucking hot.” He kissed Anthony, hard and sloppy. His hand fumbled for Anthony’s fly.
Anthony’s jeans were so tight he had to help get them opened enough for the other man to grab his dick. The first touch of that big, rough hand was heaven. Anthony arched into the contact, whimpering. He was so turned on it only took about four strokes for him to shoot all over the toilet seat and cracked tile floor.
They both collapsed against the wall, their breathing ragged.
They stood there in silence for what felt like minutes but was probably only seconds. Anthony closed his eyes, savoring the warmth, strength, and sex-man-and-subtle-cologne scent of the other man.
Then Blue Eyes nuzzled Anthony’s neck. His lips against Anthony’s ear, he whispered, “Was that what you wanted?”
Anthony opened his eyes and smiled at the other man. “It was perfect.”
Joe’s return smile was a little crooked. “You wouldn’t rather have an actual stranger?”
Anthony shook his head. “You’re everything I need.” He pulled his partner of five years down for a soft kiss. “Love you.”
The light in Joe’s blue eyes said everything Anthony needed to know.