Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four (60 page)

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Authors: Various Authors

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BOOK: Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four
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beautiful, and Rylan could feel so many emotions welling up inside of

him. He stuffed them down, losing himself in Gage’s kiss, his lips, his

tongue.

When Gage pulled away, his mouth was swollen and red, his

naked body sticky with bubble residue, his make-up smudged beyond

fixing. Rylan thought he’d never looked more beautiful. He handed

Gage one of the cockrings, watching as Gage checked out the

inscription.

“Oh, you’re choosing to be possessive?”

“It is my birthday so yeah, you’re mine, and I’m yours. Works out

either way, really.” He couldn’t stop grinning, his face aching from

the silliness and joy that flowed through his body.

“Should we make it official then?” Gage asked, taking his cock in

his hand and rubbing the leather against it. “Wanna put it on me?”

Rylan took the ring from Gage’s fingers and set the pair down by

the sink, sliding his body off the counter and facing Gage dead-on.

“Later,” he murmured, reaching around and grabbing two handfuls of

beautiful smooth butt cheeks.

“You wanna fuck me?” Gage asked, moving one of his Rylan’s

hands to the crack of his ass and leaning into lick Rylan’s jaw. “If I

remember correctly, that’s what started all this.”

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 352

“Oh, fuck yeah. I wanna fuck you ‘til you scream like a little

girl… later.” He squeezed Gage’s ass, pulling him forward so their

cocks brushed against each other. “Wanna come now though.”

“Here?” Gage asked, dipping his hand in Rylan’s briefs and

palming his hard dick. “Whatcha want me to do? Suck you? Finger

you? Fuck you?”

Gage slid his mouth down Rylan’s body, his tongue lapping and

flicking. Rylan let his head fall back when wetness swept across the

head of his cock. Gage held him still, fingertips digging into Rylan’s

hips as Gage tongued his slit.

“No!” Rylan hissed, shoving his fingers in Gage’s hair and

tugging him back to his feet. “Want your mouth….”

He pressed his lips to Gage’s, moving one hand so it wrapped

around the shafts straining between them, his thumb brushing over the

tips and spreading the pre-come over both the blossoming heads. His

tongue poked in the crease of Gage’s lips and pushed inside, lapping

the hot cavern of Gage’s mouth. He moaned when Gage’s hand

wrapped around his and began a gentle stroking motion.

“Fuck, yeah,” he mumbled against Gage’s mouth, nipping and

sucking at his bottom lip. “This is how it happened the first time,

remember?”

Gage grunted and increased his strokes. “You were ripe for the

picking.”

“I’m pretty sure, I picked you,” Rylan growled back. He sucked

his index finger into his mouth then pressed it to Gage’s crack,

rubbing over his tight entrance. Gage tipped his head back and

groaned, the sound guttural and echoing loudly in the bathroom.

“Can’t believe all the options we have… and you just want a hand

job,” he managed to gasp as the finger rubbed harder. “Oh fuck,

Ry….”

Rylan tilted his head and sealed their lips together, removing his

hand from Gage’s and wrapping it around his lover’s neck, pulling

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 353

him closer, nearer, tighter into his body. The muscles of Gage’s belly

contracted and fluttered against his, both bodies moving as one as they

thrust in and out of Gage’s strong hand.

Rylan’s lips ached from the pressure, his body beginning to writhe

and convulse against his lover. He was so close. He needed to come.

Fucking Christ, let him come. A wave of heat and red light washed

over his brain, his body bucking, cock pulsing in Gage’s hand as his

release ripped through him. Hot come painted his belly two-fold when

Gage climaxed and screamed, fingers twisting and pulling in Rylan’s

short hair.

They stood quietly, panting, bodies glued together, foreheads

using each other for support. Gage moved his hand from between

them and slipped it around Rylan’s waist, pulling him so tight Rylan

was lifted off the ground.

“Happy birthday, babe,” he whispered, letting Rylan’s feet touch

the floor again. He let his head fall back a bit, bringing a sticky finger

to his mouth and licking at the come. “Mmm. I think we even taste

better together.”

Rylan smirked. “You always did have a way with words.”

“I am a singer, you know.”

“Really?” Rylan cocked an eyebrow and slid a hand over the

tattoo that graced Gage’s shoulder. “I figured you must be… with the

tattoo and all.” His fingers traced the outline of the two foxes, nose to

nose, their tails crisscrossing and encircling either side of Gage’s

bicep only to meet back up and form a heart in the crook of his arm.

Rylan had designed the tattoo himself and, of course, his was

exactly the same as Gage’s. They’d played with the name of the band;

Heart of a Fox, Fox’s Heart, Foxy Heart, but then Gage had decided

they needed something more glitzy, hence
Glitter Fox
was born in all

their glittery glory.

“Good birthday?” Gage asked, kissing Rylan’s jaw tenderly.

Rylan nodded and returned the kiss. “I sure
outfoxed
you, didn’t I?”

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 354

Rylan groaned. “How long have you been waiting to use that?”

“Probably since we started the band but you’re usually too quick

for me to outfox.”

“I guess it’s okay then,” Rylan said. “We could really use that

bath now.”

“Water’s probably ice cold, babe.”

“Well, it’s my birthday so get your pretty ass in gear and run us

some more water, bitch.”

Gage growled and snapped his teeth at Rylan. “That’s Mr. Bitch,

to you.”

“Which makes me…?” Rylan asked, slapping Gage’s perfect little

butt as he pulled away.

“Hmm,” Gage muttered, stopping in front of the tub, one finger

grazing seductively across his bottom lip as he turned to face Rylan.

Rylan shifted his feet, eyes scanning the full length of Gage’s body,

pausing at Gage’s already engorged cock, his own spent dick

hardening against his thigh. “Mrs. Bitch?”

Rylan snapped out of his haze, growling and sending Gage his

best death glare. “Try again, Mr. Bitch, unless you never wanna get

laid again.”

Gage snickered then sucked his cheek between his teeth,

innocently batting his big brown eyes at Rylan. “Okay, how about Mr.

and
Mr. Bitch… has a nice ring to it, eh?”

Rylan angled his head, crossed his arms over his chest and

softened his gaze. “Not bad but I think I should be Master Bitch.”

“Wow, you’re really milking this birthday thing, man.” Gage

beamed and shook his head, eyes sparkling across the room. “How

about we take turns with the master title? You know, like we usually

do.”

Rylan laughed, springing forward to tackle Gage, wrapping his

arms around Gage’s sticky body and sending them both sprawling into

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 355

the cold water. At the last second, Rylan managed to plant a hand on

the wall beside the tub, saving Gage from falling dangerously hard

against the tile surface, but still falling on top of him in the water.

Gage let out an “oof”, then sputtered for a moment. “You are so

getting punished now,” he gasped when he caught his breath. “And

you better not have broken my fucking tiara.”

Rylan laughed out loud. Best birthday ever—tiara and all.

THE END

Author bio:
K. Lee Klein has lived in one part of Western Canada

or another for her entire life. She’s a doting mother of three now-

grown kids and has had characters and plots running around her

head for as long as she can remember. Though this is her first foray

into throwing her original fiction out into the web universe and she

hasn’t been published yet, she hopes to substitute her passion for

writing beautiful, emotional men for her previous jobs as a hockey

manager/coach, school band volunteer and overall chauffeur. —

Blog
: http://chaosinthemoonlight.blogspot.com/…

Twitter
: http://twitter.com/chaotic_heart

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 356

Celia Kyle – JOY AND PAIN (BDSM/Voyeurism)

Genre:
contemporary BDSM

Tags:
BDSM, stripping, anal sex, voyeur

Dear Author,

Words:
10,747

This boy looks like an

independent, wandering

JOY AND PAIN

loner. Who is he dancing

by Celia Kyle

for? An audience? One

person? Himself? Please

Blurb:

help me find out!

The stage.

[PHOTO: A black/white

photo of a young man

It’s my home.

dancing. His black pants

Doesn’t matter if soft, muted

ride very low on his hips.

-pink leather

His unlaced vest is open to

encases my feet as I perform the ballet of my

show off his otherwise bare

career, or if I’m wearing combat boots, a little

torso. His body is slightly

twink stripping as I twirl around a brass-hued

arched so that his right

shoulder dips lower. His

pole. What once brought me joy, a thrill, now

right thumb is positioned

tugs me down. But it’s all I can do. And so… I

vaguely like he’s

do.

hitchhiking, the left hooked

in his waistband.]

Until Zeke. Zeke with his deep frowns and

Sincerely,

disapproval. With his ready smiles and sweet

Samantha

touches.

He’s just… Zeke. And I’m just a broken

ballet dancer. Well, until Zeke.

CHAPTER ONE

Dance is a song of the body. Either of joy or

pain. ~Martha Graham

I’m down to my g-string, hips slinking from

left to right, hands stroking my chest, tugging at

my nipples and I’m letting my eyelids half

close. My attention’s on the guys at the edge of

the stage and I slip my right hand beneath the

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 357

edge of the spandex, pretending that I love what I’m doing, that it’s

getting me off.

My cock is soft.

But I still pretend. Pretend that the men yelling my name are the

hottest things on the block, that they do it for me.

The music drowns out any sound I make, but still I moan and

breathe fast, trying to get into the dance.

God, the dance. I love it and hate it at the same time. It’s good to

be moving, interpreting the music, trying to find beauty in each note.

It’s hard to do when dollar bills are littering the shined stage.

I lean against the pole, metal cool against my back, and arch and

pump my hips, hump the air, close my eyes and bite my lower lip. The

guys are going wild, hooting, telling me to come, shoot my load and

prove how good-looking they are.

They’re idiots. Idiots who give me money to fake an orgasm, but

idiots nonetheless.

This song ends on a crescendo, a few final beats and then I freeze,

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