So here we are again on Wednesday and it's time to flash our briefs. Today's snippet is a follow on from last week when Luke meets his mysterious dancer and has some fun with a cherry.
AFTER THE SHOW
Luke had no idea what he was doing there, at the bar, waiting.
The second half of the show had been blur, as he’d sat in a trance, staring into magical blue eyes that were definitely meeting his now, teasing, luring, enchanting.
Afterwards, he’d told his friends he had a headache, and they’d accepted it, although Nick had winked at him as they’d left, to move on to another club. And then… then he’d sat at the bar for almost an hour, drinking and trying to convince himself to leave before he made a complete fool of himself. Already, he was drawing stares, from the few people who remained, and the bar tender was giving him sympathetic looks.
With a sigh, he finished the last of his pint, and put it on the bar, finally deciding it was time to leave and chalk the whole evening up to experience, albeit an experience he would never forget.
“You’re in luck tonight, mate.”
“What?” Startled, he looked up, as the barman put a glass down, carefully on the bar in front of him. It was a cocktail; pale blue with a cherry, speared on a pink paper umbrella. “But I didn’t order…”
The barman motioned with his head. Luke followed and… Full, coral lips were moistened by a small, pink tongue. Long, fingers plucked a vivid pink umbrella from his cocktail and rubbed the cherry over his lips. Half closing his eyes, he let his tongue play with the sweetness, then sucked in his bottom lip, before letting them part to show the neat, white teeth, nipping the stick before the pouting mouth closed around it, and it was removed, empty.
Luke was shivering and, when he removed his own cherry, his hand shook, and jarred he glass. Sweet, sticky liquid spilled onto the bar top and Luke swallowed hard. He felt stupid and clumsy, but there was no way he was going to allow a show like that go unanswered.
The sticky, sweet cherry brushed across his lips, as his eyes remained locked with the ice blue ones that were watching him, smiling slightly mockingly. Ooh, that tasted good. He deliberately allowed a little of the cocktail to dribble down his chin. Wiping it up with his finger, he brushed it over his lips before sliding it into his mouth. He sucked on the finger, as he slowly moved it in and out, then withdrew and licked the tip.
There was a different look in the blue eyes now and Luke smiled, as he sipped the rest of his cocktail. For some reason, Luke was surprised, and a little startled when the singer put down his glass and moved towards him, with the same, sinewy grace, that had so captivated him on stage.
“I like the way you drink cocktails,” he said in a husky voice, when close enough for Luke, and no one else, to hear.
“I had a pretty good teacher,” Luke replied.
The boy smiled, the first easy, genuine smile Luke had yet seen from him.
“I’m Rune, pleased to meet you.”
“Rune? That’s a strange name.”
Rune grinned. “Strange as they come, but it’s not made up; I have strange parents.”
“Are you going to introduce yourself?”
“Oh. Sorry. Luke.” He held out his hand, then realised what he was doing and would have dropped it, but Rune took it, turned it over and stroked his palm.
“I’m a palm reader and you have a very interesting fortune in your hand tonight.”
“I do?” Luke breathed, shivering at the touch of Rune’s hand.
“Indeed. It says you’re going home with a stranger, to have the best night of your life.” He let go of Luke’s hand, grinning, and Luke grinned back.
“Oh, well then… if that’s what my palm says…”
Rune licked his lips. “Your place, or mine?”
“I would say mine, but my roommates might get jealous.”
Rune smiled and, without saying a word, took his hand and led him from the club.
Rune’s house was as strange and beautiful as he was and, as soon as Luke stepped through the door, he was entranced. There was colour everywhere and the sweet scent of incense perfumed the air. He didn’t have much chance to look around, though, because as soon as the door closed behind them, Rune danced into his arms and brushed his lips against his own.
Shocked, Luke’s arms automatically went around him and drew him close. Rune sighed and rested his head on Luke’s shoulder.
“I knew you’d taste good,” he said, softly, “and that you’d feel strong and safe.”
“Safe? That’s not the most romantic thing anyone has ever said about me.”
Rune smiled gently and took him by the hand. He led him over to an overstuffed sofa and sat him down. Then, even as Luke held out his arms, Rune spun away and started to dance. Luke gasped as he writhed and spun, undulating his hips in a way that make Luke’s mouth go dry.
When Rune started to run his hands over his body as he danced, Luke trembled, rubbing sweating palms on his thighs. Throwing his head back, so his glorious hair cascaded down his back, Rune slipped his arms out of his waistcoat and let it fall to the floor. Running his hands over his nipples he moaned, then executed a pirouette, during which his shirt somehow came loose revealing a torso that was pale and smooth and well defined.
Letting the shirt follow his waistcoat, Rune lowered his head and gave Luke a smouldering look. Reaching out his hand he pulled Luke to his feet and into his arms. The dance was the same, but so different as Rune stood erect, arched his back and rolled his hips, bringing their cocks into contact through layers of cotton and leather. Luke whimpered and moaned as Rune’s body undulated and then moulded itself to his, as Rune whispered in his ear.
“Want to ‘dance’ with me?”
Now, go check out my fellow flashers.
Sara York m/m
Lindsay Klug m/f
Lily Sawyer m/m
Victoria Blisse m/f
Pender Mackie m/m
Mathilde Watson m/m
Julie Lynn Hayes m/m