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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Kissing the Dragon - 19. Return

After Whitehead's warning about being careful and not answering the door to anyone without checking, Colin does exactly that.

Inside the house, I prod off the alarm before securing both front door locks. If Billy makes it home, he knows the score, and has keys to unlock them both. Snapping on the hall light, I march straight to the kitchen fridge. Annoyance and adrenaline swirl inside me and I know sleep would be impossible. Best to open a bottle and enjoy a few glasses of something palatable, something deprived me earlier. At least then the evening will not turn out to be a complete waste of breath. What on earth happened anyway? Is Ben Whitehead some sort of closet case? Or bi-curious? Doubtful on both counts. I had him pegged as the kind of bastard who has a girlfriend or wife and kids keeping him grounded. Probably both. Of course, my assumptions have been wrong before. What is niggling me most is that he has awoken something in me that has been dormant even when Vaughan shared my life. The man is a force of nature, pure instinct and wild energy. But he is also an insensitive thug for surprising me like that. And now, according to him, I have to be on constant guard for a psychopath pouncing out at me from the bushes.

From the cabinet, I pull the largest glass I can find and then grab the wine bottle, taking both into the den. Using the toes of each foot in turn, I prise off my trainers and kick them away in an act of wild abandonment. Only for a few seconds though, because I am the only witness and before long the old familiar anxiety returns urging me across the room, to pick them up and arrange them neatly next to each other against the wall. Returning to the den, I resolve to take my mind off the evening, to click the remote at a flat screen television I rarely watch and wallow in something entirely distracting. Half an hour into a documentary about the John Profumo affair, and two glasses of wine down, the doorbell rings.

With a groan of irritation, I swing my socked feet off the table, balance my glass on a cork coaster and thump up. What kind of an imbecile calls at ten o'clock on a Thursday evening? On second thoughts, perhaps Billy has decided to follow me home, make sure I am not being clobbered by one of the Met’s finest. After clicking off the TV, I stride down the hallway, completely forgetting DI Whitehead's words of caution, and only as I unlock and wrench open the front door, and witness the huge bulk of a man filling the frame, does a tremor of fear bristle through me.

Whitehead stands frozen, a dark brooding etched deep in his downcast eyes. An emotion burns in him, one I have difficulty reading by the porch light. Although I am partly relieved to see only him I wonder if something has happened. A wave of concern hits me, demands that I ask a question to find out what is wrong. But as I go to open my mouth and speak, he looks up and dim memories of that particular brand of fierce emotion flood back, stopping my breath. Although unspoken, he stands there awaiting my permission. In answer, and without thinking twice, I crack the door wider and step back. Still unspeaking, he moves into the hallway, wrenching the door from my grasp and slamming it shut. Before I know what is happening, he has my body crushed up against the wall.

"Don't make me regret this, McCann," he breathes in my ear, before pressing his warm lips onto mine. Although he has caught me off guard, my body responds instantly. I wrap my arms around his neck and return the fervour. Once again he kisses with a dark, urgent passion before pulling his half lit face away and staring at me.

“Where?” he says, breathing deep, the pain still smouldering on his brow.

“Upstairs. To the right,” I say, catching up and feeling the same urgency but at the same time apprehensive of his raw need. Leading the way through the living room, I stop only briefly to flick off the main light and leave the side lamp on, something I always do in case Billy comes home. Inside my bedroom, I switch on the bedside lamp but as I turn, Whitehead is upon me. He pushes me backwards onto the bed, crashing on top of me like a felled oak. Our lips lock again, and hands roam up and down, smoothing, squeezing and exploring, familiarising ourselves with each other’s bodies. While my mind tries to argue the sense of this action, my body drowns out the concern by responding hungrily.

“Protection?” he breathes in my ear, before pushing himself up from the bed and beginning to unbuckle his belt.

From the drawer of the bedside cabinet I grab a dispenser of lubricant that has not seen the light of day since before Vaughan moved out. But we had stopped using condoms a year ago, both agreeing to sexual monogamy. Sex had stopped completely about six months after that.

“Only this,” I say with disappointment, holding up the lube.

In the process of unzipping his jacket, Whitehead stops and glares at the container. Grabbing the dispenser from me, he reaches into his jacket pocket and brings out a handful of packets. He tosses everything onto the duvet, each of the black packs displaying the yellow logo ‘Smugglers’ on the cover. Condoms. Five of them. Whitehead is probably one of those people who steals handfuls of polo mints from doctor’s waiting rooms.

When I gaze back up, he has already removed his tee and is crossing his feet at the ankles, prising off each of his training shoes, the same way I did earlier in the evening. Looking up at his impressive body, I feel my jaw drop. Snaking its way up his muscled left arm, from the biceps to the deltoid and spreading out over the left shoulder and pectoral, his bronze skin is adorned with the elaborate tattoo of a red and green dragon. Whitehead catches me staring and stops undressing.

“Problem?”

“No,” I reply, feeling incredibly turned on. I have a thing for tattoos. Who knew? “Amazing actually.”

He snorts again, an eyebrow raised in humour. With that I tear at my own clothes. Down to my boxers, but before I have a chance to remove my socks, Whitehead launches himself impatiently on top of me again, naked except for bulging white briefs. His body heat and scent are ubiquitous; musky and compelling. Hungrily, he closes his mouth onto mine again, and probes his tongue confidently around my own. Without letting go or pulling away, he carefully straddles my thighs and rubbed his significant erection against mine, squeezing a soft moan from me. In appreciation, I thrust my groin up into his and he responds by kissing me deeper. Pulling his rough fingertips down from either side of my face, he stops at my nipples, to rub his thumbs around the dark gooseflesh skin before pinching the nub erect. Remembered sensations shudder through me, accentuated when he brings his mouth down, stopping to kiss and lick my skin. After teasing the right nipple with his lips and tongue, he nips the erect nub between his teeth. Breathless and with heart racing, I push my hands into his dark hair while he works on me. When he descends as far as my navel, his large hands move around my lower back and, in one sure movement, he pulls down my boxers.

After an appraising murmur, he traces his tongue up from the base of my shaft to the tip, circling the head a few times and teasing me to distraction. Only as my hands grab fistfuls of his hair does his hot mouth envelope the whole length of my cock. Bucking beneath him and gasping for breath, my fists fall away and grip handfuls of duvet, squeezing the cloth into mounds. Months of self-imposed celibacy melt away in the thrust of my hips. While his hands massage my backside, he works my straining shaft; licking, sucking, squeezing, swallowing the whole length. Occasionally, he stops to suck gently on my balls and lap hotly around the sac. Almost ready to come, I throw my head back, thrash my hips up wildly and hiss a moan of ecstasy. Sensing my advanced state which shudders through me, he pulls away. Shortly after I hear the dispenser snap open, and cool fingers massage lotion around the soft skin of my entrance. Although unspoken, I have no problem playing the passive role. Not only does he seem confident and experienced but Ben Whitehead has a rawness about him that I want to try on for size.

“Take a deep breath,” he murmurs, pushing my knees into the air. As I begin to obey, he gently probes a thick fingertip inside me. My body shudders involuntarily and a soft whimper issues from me. Undeterred and with practised ease, he begins slowly rotating the finger, drawing in and out, loosening the muscle walls. Even though it has been a long time, my body still remembers the unique sensation. Squeezing my eyes shut, I buck my hips into him and hear myself growl, hungry for more.

“Feels good, yeah?”

Moments later, he slips in a second finger and pushes straight for my sensitive spot, the prostate, and once again I release a moan of raw pleasure. Around and around, in and out, he massages with sure and strong movements, watching my expression all the time. Inside me something begins boiling over and I feel my cock twitching uncontrollably from deep in the base. I am not even touching myself when a cry catches in my throat and an orgasm erupts through me. Powerful rivulets of milky semen spurt from my cock, cover me from stomach to chest. As my body and breathing stills and his fingers slowly desert me, I gasp again and open my eyes.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry. It’s been a while,” I say, my chest rising and falling, feeling as inept as an overwrought, oversexed teenager. At first he looks confused by my words, stares at me quizzically and then down to the puddle of semen on my chest. Slowly his gaze draws back with mine and a smile spreads across his face.

“Sunshine,” he says, hovering over me. “We haven’t even started yet.”

After planting a firm kiss on me, a hand reaches to the condom on the pillow beside my head and using his teeth he rips open a packet. Lifting himself off the bed and finally removing his briefs, he unleashes the beast. Ben’s uncut penis bounces fully to attention, solid and beautiful, as straight and as thick as a copper’s truncheon. While he rolls on the condom I reach out and run my fingertips along the tattoo on his chest, feeling myself beginning to get hard again.

“How do you want me?”

“As you are,” he says, before grabbing a pillow, shoving my legs into the air and lodging the soft material beneath my lower back. “I need to see your face.”

From the hurried preparation, I am expecting him to be rough in bed, to get what he wants, fast and furious, but I could not be more wrong. Once again his mouth covers mine while his fingers work to prepare me, to loosen me up again. When at last he nudges the head of his penis inside, he does so cautiously and carefully, watching my face all the time, slowing with each wince that flickers across my eyes. At one point, he brings his mouth down and nips my ear to distract me, as he pushes all the way inside. No doubt about it, he is big, but also gentle and careful, and fills me. By then I have squeezed my eyes shut, trying to accommodate him, but a few moments after he stops moving, I open them.

“Ready?” he asks, waiting for me, his grin hovering over my face.

In response, I smile back and clamp my legs tightly around his lower back, pulling him inside a little further. Surprise flutters across his brows and a small groan escapes him. Reciprocating, his hips begin the pumping motion, pulling out and in, increasing friction and momentum. Lovers in my life, the handful that I have managed to bed, have had their own instinctive motives, some perfunctory and out for their own pleasure, a few generous and mutually pleasuring. I sense that Ben falls comfortably into the second category. As he builds up pace, his muscled arms bunching either side of me, I curl my arms around the back of his neck and pull his head down for another embrace.

For a moment he slows, his concentration distracted, our tongues dancing together and invading each other’s mouths again. Almost too many sensations to bear. Seconds later he continues fucking with a vengeance, thrusting the whole length inside and each time withdrawing almost completely. Getting into a rhythm, I pull my legs away from around his waist, and he secures my ankles onto each of his shoulders, achieving deeper penetration. All around and inside, my ass muscles burn, but with a good friction. While my king size bed ricks and creaks rhythmically with more action than either of us have witnessed over the past year, Ben’s new position pounds directly onto my sensitive spot and I realise I am hard again. Hovering over me, his eyes lose focus and I hear his breathing grow erratic, feel him getting close. Grabbing my own shaft, I begin to stroke myself while consciously clenching my anal muscles together. Momentarily, his eyes widen with surprise and almost simultaneously his mouth forms a silent cry as one deep thrust freezes inside me. Throwing his head back, he lets out a guttural roar and finally comes, pumping hard and erratically. Stroking furiously, I orgasm again with a soft whimper, splashing hot seed between us just before he collapses on top of me, breathing heavily in my ear, our labouring hearts jackhammering through each other’s ribcage.

Once his breathing has normalised, he leans up on his elbows and withdraws slowly from inside me. After waiting to observe the milky overflow inflating the condom’s nippled end, I throw a forearm across my eyes, which have teared up, mourning the loss of substance and heat. Moments later, his hand gently lifts my arm away and he gazes down at me, a sheen of perspiration silvering his forehead, concern in his dark eyes.

“You okay?”

Unable to articulate everything bubbling inside me, I simply grin and nod slowly. He relaxes then and we stretch out next to each other breathing heavily. Having shared my bedroom with nobody over the past half a year, this feels indescribable, and something I do not want to end too soon.

“Surprisingly good?” he says eventually, turning onto his side, his head cradled in his hand, studying me with that half smirk on his handsome face.

“What?” I answer, remaining on my back, continuing to stare at the shadows on the ceiling after a quick glance his way. Even after having enjoyed some of the most intimate moments two men can share, I have difficulty looking directly into his measured gaze.

“You said I’m a surprisingly good kisser. Your words.”

For a moment, I wonder what he is referring to. But then it comes back to me. My parting shot earlier in the night as I stepped out of his BMW.

“Well? You are. In my opinion.”

“That’s an insult. Not a compliment.”

I burst out laughing at his logic. Where has this Ben Whitehead been hiding? I like this version much better.

“Point taken,” I say, turning to him, warmed to see him grinning at me. “Okay then, let’s just say that you’re a complete surprise, Ben Whitehead. A very good one. And leave it at that.”

Feeling oddly free and unguarded, I push my hands behind my head, close my eyes and allow my breathing to level out, ever aware of the heat of his presence beside me. What seems like barely a few minutes later, a warm hand lands on my upper thigh, the thumb massaging circles into and around my groin.

“Not yet, Sleeping Beauty,” he murmurs, leaning into me, his lips brushing my ear. “We’re not done yet. Roll onto your front.”

When I crank my eyes open, his renewed arousal is already plain. Once I do as asked, his bulk straddles me instantly and he begins kneading the muscles around my neck and shoulders. While his hands work their magic down to my thighs, his erection rubs up and down my crack, the tip of his shaft nudging my sore entrance. Part of me wants to curl up and fall asleep, but his expert hands are sending blood pulsing hotly through my veins and soon my body is aching for him to enter me again. This time, however, I decide to take charge.

“No. I want you on your back,” I say, and lift my backside in the air to roll him off me, no easy task with such a bulk.

Mildly surprised that he complies, his previous quizzical expression returns. Quite cute actually, but I know instinctively that I cannot make him do anything he is not happy with. As he lies there in all his impressive glory, I stand and haul his body by the knees so that they are hanging over the edge of the bed. Then from on top I straddle his midriff and watch the realisation transform his face, first with surprise and then by a lustful smile. This time, I lean forward to kiss him deeply before plucking one of the condoms from the pillow. Hold tight, Ben Whitehead. Part of me wonders how he will feel about me taking control, but this is one of the positions I enjoy trying, which also allows for deeper penetration. Strong legs from cycling means I can maintain a squatting position for as long as necessary without getting tired.

Once achieving a satisfying rise and fall, my hands braced on Whitehead’s chest, his carnal approval is plain, his eyes fluttering and breath ragged with each movement. After a time, he takes control. Each of his paws clamp onto my buttocks, and he thrusts his hips at a fierce pace deep inside, hitting home and forcing moans from me. Incredibly, I am hard again and although I am spent, he comes loudly and roughly, riding the orgasm to its last drop. When he is done, my hands feeling the heavy rise and fall of his chest, he stares at me with an odd look of surprise. In turn, I smile broadly, leaning forward to kiss him.

“Surprisingly good, eh?”

Laughing aloud, he gently guides me to dismount him. After cleaning up with tissues, we lie next to each other unspeaking, our shoulders barely touching. What is there to say? An overwhelming tiredness fills me then, something I have been fighting off. As I succumb to the undertow of sleep, I feel sure that Ben Whitehead will have abandoned me long before sunrise.

div>

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you'd like to join in a chat or leave any additional comments about the plot or cast of characters, I have created a forum accessed via on the link below:
http://www.gayauthors.org/forums/topic/40694-kissing-the-dragon-discussion-forum/

Brian (a.k.a. lomax61)

Copyright © 2015 lomax61; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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:blink::blushing: Whoa, that was unexpcted and 'surprisingly good' :lol: Seems they both had a lot of need saved up. And Ben is a boy scout...
And once again Colin makes assumptions which he may come to regret. Or maybe not regret, if he's woken up by a morning blowjob. :P Although Ben might want to leave before Billy gets home, but on the other hand he seems to enjoy surprising people. Did he remember to lock the front door?

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Surprisingly good... And unsurprisingly very hot. I don't see that they locked the door, but I think Colin's pretty safe. He has police protection. I have to admit that I didn't see this coming until that kiss. It's an interesting turn. Boy will Billy be surprised.

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On 09/14/2015 01:54 PM, Timothy M. said:

:blink::blushing: Whoa, that was unexpcted and 'surprisingly good' :lol: Seems they both had a lot of need saved up. And Ben is a boy scout...

And once again Colin makes assumptions which he may come to regret. Or maybe not regret, if he's woken up by a morning blowjob. :P Although Ben might want to leave before Billy gets home, but on the other hand he seems to enjoy surprising people. Did he remember to lock the front door?

Hi Tim. :o Thought you might appreciate this chapter. After such a long wait for some action, I felt the need to ramp things up a little. Hope I didn't disappoint. No they didn't lock the front door but then Colin is under (geddit) police protection. Let's see if Whitehead sticks around until morning. Brian

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On 09/14/2015 02:42 PM, drpaladin said:

Surprisingly good... And unsurprisingly very hot. I don't see that they locked the door, but I think Colin's pretty safe. He has police protection. I have to admit that I didn't see this coming until that kiss. It's an interesting turn. Boy will Billy be surprised.

Hi drpaladin. I've heard so many people use the expression "surprisingly good" thinking they are being complimentary, when in fact it's betraying the fact they originally had the lowest of expectations. Unless the men have left anything incriminating on their way to the bedroom, Billy will probably be none the wiser. Watch this space. And thanks for reading. Brian

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I made the mistake of looking at the chapter at work. Saw the line "Don't make me regret this" and I just had to read it.

 

Mmm... This was very hot. I would expect Ben to have gone in the morning. Granted, his actions show he's no stranger to pleasing a man, which kills my theory about the closeted and anguished guy. However, he has been acting like he doesn't want anything to do with Colin. That could be because he shouldn't have that kind of a relationship with a person of interest in a murder inquiry. Still, it wouldn't fully explain his very pissy attitude. So him staying for breakfast would be a bit out of character.

 

I'd like to see Colin get plenty more opportunities to kiss that dragon...

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I'm not surprised. I knew Ben really did like Colin's eyes. Very nice. Kit was the shiny object to distract Colin while Ben was burrowing under Colin's skin (so to speak).

 

Kit and Martin are still suspects and I'm adding to the list. Even the absent Vaughn is not about suspicion.

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On 09/14/2015 08:06 PM, Puppilull said:

I made the mistake of looking at the chapter at work. Saw the line "Don't make me regret this" and I just had to read it.

 

Mmm... This was very hot. I would expect Ben to have gone in the morning. Granted, his actions show he's no stranger to pleasing a man, which kills my theory about the closeted and anguished guy. However, he has been acting like he doesn't want anything to do with Colin. That could be because he shouldn't have that kind of a relationship with a person of interest in a murder inquiry. Still, it wouldn't fully explain his very pissy attitude. So him staying for breakfast would be a bit out of character.

 

I'd like to see Colin get plenty more opportunities to kiss that dragon...

Hi Puppilull - Sounds like you are way ahead here. You are spot on about Whitehead, he is attracted to Colin and has from the start, but cannot follow up because of what's happening professionally. Staying for breakfast would be completely out of character - but then maybe the iceman is melting. Brian

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On 09/14/2015 10:16 PM, Defiance19 said:

Well, I was wrong in thinking the detective would fight his attraction. I was glad to be wrong. I do not see that coming either. Also, Whitehead called Colin 'Sunshine'! Whitehead?! This was steamy, so much so, that when I eventually sipped my coffee it was cold. I can't add anything so, I'll just move to the next chapter...

You weren't wrong, Defiance19, I think DCW has been fighting his attraction for a while. But there comes a point at which something has to give. Thanks for staying along for the ride. Brian

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On 09/15/2015 09:47 AM, revelinblue said:

I'm not surprised. I knew Ben really did like Colin's eyes. Very nice. Kit was the shiny object to distract Colin while Ben was burrowing under Colin's skin (so to speak).

 

Kit and Martin are still suspects and I'm adding to the list. Even the absent Vaughn is not about suspicion.

Thanks revelinblue - and keep those suspects in plain sight. Although there will be other coming along shortly.

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On 09/16/2015 05:39 AM, Cole Matthews said:

oh my!!! I think I'm blushing! Great job.

Hi Cole - yes, finally a bit of action. I am always a little nervous about how to portray the love scenes so I hope this come off as believable. Brian

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Brian, I was reading your response to dr's review, AND NOW I GET IT!!!! :facepalm: DUH!!! lol I totally didn't understand the 'surprisingly good' not being a compliment! I am pretty slow on the uptake. :P

 

So...now I know where the title comes from! I always wondered. lol As your other readers mentioned, DCW staying the night and having breakfast with Colin was totally out of character, as was his being so passionate and considerate the night before. His actions speak louder than his implying that the night was a one-night stand, or a one-time only thing. Somehow though, I don't think DCW is going to be able to stay away for long. :D Colin's already getting the emotional butterflies in the stomach, and pounding heart whenever he thinks about DCW now. Big question: where will this leave Kit?

 

True, with DCW's unexpected appearance at Colin's door, and the subsequent 'amazing sex' they had, Colin's most likely thinking "Kit who?" lol I'm sure it'll all come back to him once he lays eyes on the American. I'll bet Kit will be able to sense something different about Colin though. I wonder if Colin will fess up? Not that he has anything to hide -- it's not like he and Kit are going out or anything.

 

Loved the 'sunshine' endearment DCW used a few times on Colin. :)

 

Another awesome chapter, Brian! :2thumbs:

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On 09/25/2015 07:23 AM, Lisa said:

Brian, I was reading your response to dr's review, AND NOW I GET IT!!!! :facepalm: DUH!!! lol I totally didn't understand the 'surprisingly good' not being a compliment! I am pretty slow on the uptake. :P

 

So...now I know where the title comes from! I always wondered. lol As your other readers mentioned, DCW staying the night and having breakfast with Colin was totally out of character, as was his being so passionate and considerate the night before. His actions speak louder than his implying that the night was a one-night stand, or a one-time only thing. Somehow though, I don't think DCW is going to be able to stay away for long. :D Colin's already getting the emotional butterflies in the stomach, and pounding heart whenever he thinks about DCW now. Big question: where will this leave Kit?

 

True, with DCW's unexpected appearance at Colin's door, and the subsequent 'amazing sex' they had, Colin's most likely thinking "Kit who?" lol I'm sure it'll all come back to him once he lays eyes on the American. I'll bet Kit will be able to sense something different about Colin though. I wonder if Colin will fess up? Not that he has anything to hide -- it's not like he and Kit are going out or anything.

 

Loved the 'sunshine' endearment DCW used a few times on Colin. :)

 

Another awesome chapter, Brian! :2thumbs:

Wow, in this review you've nailed so many things. Colin has had a one night stand after he has probably told himself that to do so is not him. DCW has done exactly the same by stopping over. Both are experiencing intense feelings that go against their moral stance. Let's see how this pays out. Brian

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It was just so damn satisfying reaching this point after all of their building tension. I do feel quite worried over Colin. He has so much that he’s kept secret from the detectives...I’m ever anxious for the other shoe to drop.

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This couple could not have gone on in any other fashion! At the moment their relationship relies on lust, but they are truly yin and yang and I foresee tension, aggression and deep feeling in their future. You are a master at steamy sex, B, more power to you!

Will

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Much of the time, GA's authors who do sex scenes, and not all of them do, make them sound like two teens 'making out' behind the barn, you, on the other hand, show two adult men who take the partner's reactions/needs into account. I get bored and skip most of the 'wham-bang-thank-you-man' descriptions of the teens, but your writing caused my inner dragon to writhe and pant, not an easy thing to do with a gut that is well over 88-years-old. Thank you for your efforts, and now . . .

MisterWill

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DCW doesn't like to be pigeonholed, but corn holed is apparently OK. I do expect him to be there in the morning.  It would fit his dogged stick to it character.  Great writing of very hot sex.  You are too modest about your writing Lomax.  I can't wait to see what the morning brings. It would be fun if Billy unexpectedly shows up and delivers some snarky humor and punny jibes at them both.

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