Sunday, January 22, 2012

Sunday Snog - in Victorian England

This excerpt is from The Officer and the Gentleman - Robert MacDonald, a young Scotsman recently made heir to his grandfather's fortune attends a soiree at a fashionable townhome in London where he meets Captain Charles Wentworth, an officer in the Royal Hussars:

The rain had indeed ceased, and the night had taken on a balmy feel. A gentle breeze ruffled Robert’s curls as he and Charles stood together looking down across the verdant sweep of the lawn, only just visible beneath the lightening sky.
For a while, neither man spoke then Charles turned and smiled at Robert. “May I say, sir, that you are a very pleasant addition to my aunt’s usually rather boring soirees?”
“Thank you.” Robert felt his cheeks glow at the compliment. “And may I say that I did not expect to meet a dashing cavalry officer this evening?”
Charles chuckled. “Emily been keeping me a secret, has she?”
“She mentioned in passing that she had a brother…”
“Only in passing?” Charles affected mock displeasure. “I shall have to have words with my dear sister.”
“She did say I would like you. And in that,” Robert added shyly, “she is correct.”
“Then I have forgiven her already.” Charles met Robert’s eyes, and Robert had to fight the urge that threatened to overwhelm him. The urge to forget all propriety and fling his arms about Charles, hold him pressed to his own eager body and taste the sweetness of his full lips. He trembled from the need building inside him. His cock throbbed and pushed against the front of his trousers, and he flushed with embarrassment at the sight he must now present.
“Shall we stroll a little?” Charles suggested.
Robert could not find his voice to reply but simply nodded once, so sharply he almost did his neck an injury.
They walked down the steps that led to the garden path and were soon swallowed by the darkness, the moon having scudded behind some clouds that loomed overhead. They paused to look back at the brightly lit house, from which emanated the sound of voices and laughter. Robert jumped slightly as he felt Charles slip an arm around his waist, then he leaned against the strong body and let himself be steered towards a large oak tree.
“No one can see us here,” Charles said, his voice low and strangely husky. He pulled Robert into his arms and held him, his lips a mere inch from Robert’s, his breath sweet and warm on Robert’s skin.
“Dear God,” Robert heard himself whisper as Charles kissed him. His lips were taken by a moist warmth that caused his head to thrum. For a moment, he thought he might swoon then he was kissing Charles back, his lips parting to let the other man’s tongue slip inside his mouth. Charles moaned, and his erection ground against Robert’s. Both men shuddered as their desire swept through them. Their arms tightened about one another, their kiss deepened, tongues meshing, tussling, caressing…
All too soon, Charles broke away, slightly out of breath. “Not here, Robert. Not here amongst this mud and wet grass.”
Robert thought he might fall over without Charles to support him. He reached out and gripped Charles by the shoulders.
“You…you’re right,” he stammered. “It wouldna’ do for our first time. I have rooms in Mayfair, if you would do me the honour of accompanying me there.”
“I am the one who would be honoured, Robert.”
“How can we make our excuses?”
“I’m staying at the officer’s club in Marylebone while I’m in town. I will tell my aunt that I’m taking you there to introduce you around to the chaps, that kind of thing.”
“Excellent. Let’s away then.”
Charles chuckled. “Patience, Robert. Though I am flattered at your eagerness, we must not just rush away. We’ll go in and chat for little while then—”
“Every second we tarry will seem like an hour.”
“And every hour we spend together will seem like a second,” Charles murmured, kissing Robert’s lips gently. “Come now, let us go in.”
Just before they entered, Charles turned to study Robert in the light thrown onto the terrace from the salon. Gently, he brushed down the lapels of Robert’s coat and straightened his collar.
“There,” he said his voice once again strangely husky. “You are quite presentable, sir.”

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Sunday Snog

This is from my new Valentine's Day shortie - Laying Down For the Law - due out Feb from MLR Press - more details later:

After Steve and his cop buddy Rich go out on their first date, Rich gently refuses an invitation to go back to Steve's apartment...


My cell rang as I walked into my apartment. Rich? I glanced at the caller ID. No, Betty.
“Hi, Betty.”
“Steve, hope you don’t mind me calling this late, but I had to tell you, you won’t be dateless at the party. I went ahead and asked Angela to bring her brother, Kent, and he said yes, so you have a date. Isn’t that great?’
“Betty, I already have a date,” I said with some impatience. What was she, my personal yenta?
“But you said you didn’t!” she moaned.
“And now I do. His name is Rich, you’ll like him.”
“Oh, what am I going to do about Kent? He’ll be the one who’s dateless now.”
“Maybe you could ask around again, you know like you did for me. Sorry…” I was distracted by the sound of a knock on my door. “Gotta go, Betty, someone’s at the door, Bye.”
She was still protesting when I hung up. I wondered who it could be at this time of night. Most of my friends called before they came over and rarely this late. I swung the door open and nearly yelped with surprise.
“Rich. Is something wrong?”
“Yeah. Can I come in?”
“Of course. What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I’m a damned fool, that’s what’s wrong,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “I told myself before we met tonight that no matter what I was not going to make love to you on our first date, but I’d no sooner got on my bike than I cursed myself for all kinds of an idiot for turning you down when you asked if I’d come home with you. Of course I wanted to, more than I’ve ever wanted anything—so, here I am. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind? Are you crazy? But I thought you said you had a—” His lips on mine shut me up and we lost ourselves in a long, long kiss that would give all those in the Guinness Book of Records a run for their money. His hands were inside my shirt, stroking my back, pushing past the waistband of my chinos, cupping my butt, his fingers slipping into the crack, teasing my hole. Wow! When he wanted something he went all out.
Our clothes were scattered round our feet in a matter of seconds, his magnificent naked body was pressed to mine, and I could scarcely believe this was really happening. It was all so amazing—he was amazing—every inch of his muscled flesh a sculptor’s dream. He wrapped his arms around me and his lips took mine again in another long bruising kiss that had us both moaning and gasping into each other’s mouths. He lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing and I wound my legs round his waist. Without breaking our kiss he headed for the bedroom door, pushing it open with his foot then depositing me on top of the bed. He lay over me, stretching his body so that every part of our nakedness was pressed together.
I was beginning to imagine I had died and been transported to Heaven. I could even hear some heavenly string section close by, then realized it was coming from the beside radio I’d been leaving on ever since the burglary attempt. That’s right—frighten off all would-be thieves with some light classical music. It seemed to fit the mood though as Rich’s lips covered mine and his tongue slid inside bringing with it an electrical jolt just as the music reached a crescendo.
Then Rich’s mouth was everywhere at once, scorching my lips, my jaw, my throat, my nipples. God! My body arched against his. I felt a rush of adrenaline flood through me. I was desperate to have Rich’s cock, to hold it in my mouth. I rolled him onto his back, no mean feat in itself, but he didn’t resist which made it easier, and I scooted down to encircle his long, thick, awesome dick with my fingers, to lick the swollen head and savor the salty cream that glistened at the slit.