Playing with Matches

Cole rolled to the other side of the bed. There, he unfurled the bed quilt of argyle patterns of white and gray.

Rick yanked one of Cole's boots up. Rick untied the brown brogan and pulled it off.

Cole's pulse charged.

Rick shucked off Cole's russet sock of cotton.

Cole felt a tuft of air on his foot.

And Rick warmed Cole's sole with an open-mouthed kiss.

Never had Cole's wife worshipped him like this—and it undermined Cole's faith in his marriage.

Rick let Cole's foot go and jerked up the other leg.

Cole allowed himself to enjoy the baring of his other foot, the touch of Rick's lips on it, and the humid chuffs down there. Not since adolescence had Cole felt so loved—and back then, it was girls who appreciated him. By contrast, Cole's father and older brother hated his guts.

Rick released Cole's foot. Toward Cole's four-pack, Rick brought the heel of one of his black hiking boots. He waited with a bold look in his eyes.

Cole untied Rick's black shoelaces, hauled off Rick's black brogan, and peeled off Rick's white sock of cotton. Cole kissed the foot on different spots, inhaled the oniony flesh, and slithered his lips up the shin.

"That's right," Rick said. "Get excited."

Rick's pubes were bushy, moist, and dark. They reminded Cole of the corporal similarities between Rick and him. Sure, Rick had light-cream skin and Cole a wheat-colored complexion—and Rick coffee bean brown hair to mismatch Cole's sandy-brown hair. Still, their chiseled pecs, sculpted abs, and hard arms and legs accentuated the fact that Cole was about to copulate with someone like himself.

Rick said, "Are you ready to lather my wiener?"

Cole hoised his eyes from Rick's dark pubes to Rick's hooded eyes.

Rick stared at Cole with the rage of a windstorm.

At once, Cole sat up on the king-size bed. He yanked down Rick's black pants of cotton and white briefs of cotton. Then, Cole scarfed down Rick's cock.

It felt like ham and tasted milder than corn. Rick's pubic curls, however, smelled like scallions on a muggy day.

Cole found the smell of Rick's pubes unromantic, yet, electrifying. Cole sucked Rick's dong harder and quicker, determined to get physical with this man.

Rick grabbed the strings of Cole's hair and pulled them fore and aft.

Cole moaned under his breath.

"You like cock, don't you," Rick said.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Then, suck like a fag!" Rick spittled.

Cole smacked Rick's butt for that.

Rick stepped back, and his wad slipped out of Cole's mouth.

Cole looked up.

Rick spoke in a stern tone. "Turn around."

Cole flipped onto his washboard abs, raised his head and neck, and took the contour of a seal facing Rick.

Rick reached forward and buffeted Cole's rump.

"Ugh!"

"Tonight, you're the one who will have to take it like a man," Rick said. He kneaded Cole's nates as if they were pizza dough. "Now, suck my dick."

Cole swallowed it again.

"Not bad for a straight redneck," Rick said.

Cole spat out Rick's cock. With his tongue, Cole flicked its pinkish foreskin.

Rick shhed … and sputtered onto Cole's stubble of bronze.

Cole sucked Rick's balls for that.

"Fucking horndog!" Rick bawled. He pulled the muddy cascade that fell thinly off the four corners of Cole's head. At one spot, Rick tugged Cole's hair back and forth, to and fro.

Inside his mouth, Cole licked Rick's nut hairs.

Rick rotated his hips slowly.

Cole spat out Rick's walnuts and dove back onto Rick's zucchini. Abruptly, Cole scraped something with his teeth.

"Ouch!" Rick said.

"Sorry, man."

"I'm going to make you pay for that," Rick gruffed. "Get on those sheets."

Cole dragged his lean body toward the center of the bed. On the crisp-white sheets of silk, Cole lay his swarthy back.

Rick pushed down his black pants and white briefs the rest of the way. He untied his other black boot, kicked it off, and pulled off his remaining white sock.

Cole's dick pressed against the crotch of his mahogany knee pants.

The white bedsheets shimmered under the globe of white-yellow light above the bed.

Rick knelt on the white sheets of silk.

Cole unbuttoned his brown shorts and unzipped their silver zipper.

Rick shook Cole's mahogany corduroys off and Cole's white briefs of cotton. Rick stooped toward the multi-lit slats of the bamboo floor. He pulled up a silver strip of gel from one of his pant pockets. And he said, "You can thank me for bringing this. Otherwise, your ass would really undergo torture."

"I thought those lubricants were just for the face," Cole said.

"Just like you thought asses were just for shitting." Rick tore the silver strip with his incisors, squeezed some white onto his palm, and smeared the ointment onto Cole's hairy opening.

Cole quivered to the cold of the jelly. But he raised his wheat-colored legs.

Slowly, Rick pushed his index finger into Cole's gaping hole.

Cole grit his teeth.

Rick jammed his middle finger under his forefinger and slunk it past.

"I feel lak I'm gonna shit," Cole said.

"You'll get used to it," Rick said. He applied some white to his hot dog, tossed the silver strip of jello onto the wooden night table, and knelt on the white sheets of silk.

Never had Cole felt so vulnerable.

Rick's prick started to pry Cole's hole down under.

Cole grimaced in pain.

Rick kept pressing in.

And Cole allowed his narrow heels to land on Rick's defined shoulders.

Rick caressed the hairlets of caramel on Cole's quadriceps. "I'm going to show you what you make your wife go through."

"Be fuckin' careful!" Cole said.

"Don't you trust me?"

The mocking undertones in Rick's voice and on his face made Cole nervous. Yet, Cole reveled at the prospect of not being in charge in bed. Similar to his attitude toward family and job responsibilities, Cole's mindset was that he needed a break from his usual role in the bedroom.

Rick's frankfurter stretched Cole's innards to the limit.

A battering ram, Cole concluded, would have been less agony. Cole felt as if he were going through a rite of initiation to test his strength of character. Could Cole, however, endure this to the end?

Rick's dong began to saw into Cole's waste hole.

"Holy Jesus!" Cole growled into the slanted ceiling of wood.

Rick's cock of pale pink was massaging something inside Cole.

Cole panicked. But the sensation in Cole's gut overtook his terror, and his chestnut-brown dick started to rise.

Rick said, "How's that prostate massage?"

That clarified everything.

For once, Cole let his eyelids drop, and he allowed himself to swim in this lake of ecstasy.

Rick pistoned harder into Cole.

Cole pinched his eyes shut.

Rick said, "This is how real fucking is done."

Cole opened his eyelids.

Rick's eyes hooked into Cole's orbs like wooden pegs on a wall to panhandle eyelets.

For Cole, the reality that he could arouse a man to this extent was almost too much to handle.

Rick kept staring into Cole.

You're dravin' me bonkers! Cole replied with his eyes. This was too intense for Cole, as men didn't stare into each other for so long. Only couples did that. Yet, this was precisely what made the experience so magnificent.

Rick grumped, "So you like getting crammed like a wild duck?"

"God, yes!" Cole said. "Plow ma bowels."

"You got it, prima donna!" With that, Rick pumped harder, deeper, and faster.

The hinges of the bed mewed like sea gulls, and the mattress shook as if to an earthquake.

Cole's vision blurred. "Oh, Rick, Rick, Rick!"

Rick slowed down, tightened his grip on Cole's calves, and lowered his chest.

Cole raised his oval face. Toward him, Cole yanked Rick's clipped, dark hair where its front-combed section on top met its combed-up strands in front.

The two men kissed violently, panted into each other's mouths, and twisted their heads. This was insane!

Rick tore his lips away. "You liked that, didn't you?"

Cole pecked Rick's lips with a kiss.

Rick pecked him back.

Again, the two smooched in a round of meltdown. They moaned, chuntered, and groaned under their breaths.

As usual, Rick pulled his lips away. "You kiss better than Jennifer," he said, "and you have one hot ass."

Cole's testicles swelled painfully. "You lak ma shitter?"

Rick sped his thrusts into it.

Cole nattered some hooey in a quasi-orgasm.

"Does that answer your question?" Rick said.

Cole grunted. He snatched his nuts and jigged them up and down. They might as well have been spare change.

The slapping of Rick's balls onto Cole's butt sounded as if someone were clapping slowly up the mountain behind the log cabin.

Cole bellowed, "Fuck ma ass!"

"Yeah?" Rick said.

"Yeah!" Cole said louder.

Rick halted, then resumed his rhythm.

"Fuckin' A!" Cole said. He stopped rubbing his crab apples and started to shake his hose from the base.

"I see you're turning into a grand faggot," Rick said. "You want my sperm?"

"Shoot it in!!" Cole begged.

Rick jolted the bed faster.

"Holy fuckin' shit!" Cole yelled.

Rick's cannon kept banging Cole's prostate.

Cole gasped like a runner about to collapse after a marathon.

Rick growled like a dingo.

And Cole yawped, "My dick and ass are in flames!" Cole shook his snake from the base at 60 miles an hour.

Cole's glue hit the wooden headboard. Again, Cole shot three feet into the air. He spewed two … four … eight … ten more times … and felt Rick contract his cock and balls.

Rick threw his light-cream forehead back. "Fuck!"

Again, Rick's warm lekvar shot into Cole's intestines—and again … and again … and again.

At least, Rick fell on Cole.

* * * *

Rick and Cole's sweat and cum produced a smell resembling lecithin. The white orchids in the corner and the scented sheets, however, neutralized the body odors of the balmy room. A musky aroma was the result.

Rick's head rested on Cole's chest. "No matter how many times I fuck," Rick began, "I never fail to be amazed by the thrill of it."

"What about gettin' fucked?" Cole drawled.

"Tod doesn't top me, so I get less of that," Rick said.

"I thought Tod fucked guys sometimes."

"He fucks girls," Rick said. "When Tod is with guys, however, he prefers to get fucked. I guess Tod views gay sex as a break from his role with chicks."

"Then, wait till I fuck you next time," Cole said.

"That's one thing I can hardly wait for," Rick said.

Cole enjoyed the vibrations of Rick's vocal cords on his chest. But Cole worried about his wife. If Sheena found out about Cole's sexcapades, his life was over.

Rick must have sensed Cole's discomfort, for Rick shhed like a man trying to calm his boy. "Your family doesn't have to find out about this," Rick said. "Jennifer and Tod are more discreet than you could ever imagine."

Cole was skeptical.

"They know what being discovered means," Rick elaborated. "Trust me! Your homosexuality is safe in our hands."

"I hope so," Cole muttered.