An X excerpt from Delsyn’s Blues

Luki stepped outside to smoke, no jacket against the cold, dry wind, nothing between his eyes and the stars. Dry, cold, and clear—a rare March night here on the Olympic Peninsula. He
walked out to sit on the drift log halfway between Sonny’s house and the water. A square of artificial daylight lay on the sandy grass to his left, bursting out through the window of Sonny’s studio, where he was probably hard at work.

“I’m going to my studio,” he’d said a short while ago. “See if I can clean it up some.”

“Want help?”

One word answer, “No.” And he walked away.

Luki refused to wonder if now, inside his studio, something bad was happening to Sonny—emotions, memories, dope, whatever. He told himself for the hundredth time it was about trust. Soon, his cigarette had come to its predestined seven-minute end, and he was starting to feel the bite of the cold. But instead of going in, he walked down to the edge of the water, dark as it was, with stars sprinkled in the quiet waves. At the edge of his vision, he noticed the studio light
disappear from the ground, and moments later he felt, more than heard, Sonny coming out of the house, walking toward him. He didn’t turn around, but when Sonny reached an arm over his shoulder, Luki took Sonny’s hand and kissed it, not surprised at all, and led him back to the
driftwood seat.

Sonny straddled the log next to Luki and leaned in to kiss Luki’s neck. Which tickled in a most seductive way. Sonny’s long legs grabbed hold of him like pincers, and he dragged his lean fingers over Luki’s chest, leaving heat trails on Luki’s night-chilled skin. The whole event felt like a stroke of better-than-luck to Luki because, though he refused to jump to conclusions, he was pretty sure Sonny was making sexual advances. And it had been a couple or a hundred months since any such thing occurred or even was hinted at. So if his response was a little too enthusiastic, a little too heated, he hoped Sonny would forgive him for that.

Better than forgiving, Sonny matched him flame for flame, and pretty soon hands were inside clothes and doing some exquisite touching, tickling, rubbing. But it wasn’t all that comfortable—cold and clothed—so Luki breathed, “Bed, sweetie.”

“Yeah,” Sonny answered, but he didn’t stop what he was doing, and Luki didn’t really want him to. It made it all the more difficult to insist. “Come on, baby, let’s go.” He took Sonny’s hand out of his clothing and they both jogged, holding hands and holding up their unzipped pants with their free hands, moving about as gracefully as contestants in a three-legged race.

Which made Sonny guffaw. Which he did from time to time and which always delighted Luki—made him sort of laugh too.

When they reached the house, Luki slammed the door behind them with a foot and rushed to catch up with Sonny, who was already shirtless and dropping his jeans and a step away from the bed. All Luki could think about was skin, Sonny’s skin: bare, sweet, brown skin over legs and ass and chest and shoulders and toes and fingers and yes, penis. Perhaps the sweetest skin of all, that. He wanted so badly to taste it. When Sonny’s jeans came off and he stood bare and enflamed, molded by lamplight, Luki’s entire being—every sense, every belief, and everything he knew in all the world—was about Sonny, the beautiful, breathtaking, heart-stealing man standing naked before him.

“Damn, baby,” he whispered, and as if the words tilted things, it all slowed down. Sonny reached for Luki and stripped his clothes a piece at a time, and then they stood pressed against each other forever, and then Luki knelt down and took a long, slow, sweet sampling of Sonny’s best flavors. Thighs. Testes. Slick, sweet, hot erection.

But Sonny put himself in charge, this time around, and he pulled Luki away, brought him to his feet. Kissed him, and the thought of Sonny kissing the taste of Sonny off of his lips excited Luki almost to the point of pain. Then Sonny let their bodies separate a few inches and leaned over to kiss him while their erections did a kind of slow dance, loving each other. They fell onto the bed, and for the sake of the silky feel of it on bare skin, they drew Sonny’s beautiful blanket up over
them and burrowed underneath it.

Sonny scrunched down farther, laid his tongue flat against the shaft of Luki’s penis, and licked, base to crown. When he reached the glans, he wrapped it in his lips and ran his tongue around, around, gave it a sweet suck.

“Oh God, Luki,” he said, his voice thick and throaty. Obviously pleased with what he tasted, he fell to again—licking, stroking, sucking.

Luki had as much stamina as the next guy, maybe more, but it had been a long while since he’d had sex. And this wasn’t just any old sex; it was Sonny, and it was love. And he didn’t want it to be over, or even to have a temporary lull. So he begged. “God, baby, that’s so good. Please, stop.”

Sonny apparently didn’t wonder what he meant because he slid up Luki’s body and kissed him again and said in his ear, “I want in, Luki. Let me in tonight. Let me have your ass.”

No five words in English or any other language could have sounded sweeter than those last five. Luki, so used to being in charge at all times, reveled in the conscious act of letting go, falling, coming apart. He became incoherent, only syllables passing his lips and even those guttural.
Sonny rolled him insistently, not too gently, and plied his ass with thick, creamy lube, the silk of it teasing Luki almost as sweetly as Sonny’s hand hot on his back, Sonny’s hard, ready penis
sliding between Luki’s legs and rubbing up against his own hard sex.

Luki knew just the particular instant when he was completely ready, and apparently Sonny knew it too. “Yeah, Luki, that’s it,” he said. “That’s what I want.” And as he started to push the swollen head of his penis slowly inside Luki, “Oh, God! Luki, it’s so damn sweet.” He slid in farther, farther, all the way, and he started rocking.

Luki could barely speak for the pleasure of Sonny moving inside him, massaging the small, secret place that would yield, when the timing was perfect, a strong, lengthy, exquisite orgasm. He couldn’t wait, but he could. And there was more. Sonny’s arms were long and his body nimble. He reached around and slid a circle of fingers down the shaft of Luki’s prick, teasing slowly, just enough. Then it all became, for Luki, a little more than enough. “Baby, damn. It’s too freaking good!”

And then he came and the orgasm shuddered through every part of his body, so hard and so long and so over-the-fucking-top that Luki was remotely glad he worked out a lot. Otherwise he surely wouldn’t have withstood the storm. Just when he thought he’d survived it, he heard Sonny groan deep, roll it out into a long moan. He felt Sonny’s heat inside him, felt him spasm and quiver against his ass, felt his hot breath blow across his back, and he owned that orgasm too.

Two for the price of one.

Sweet.

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