HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, JASPER
WHILE I SAT waiting at our table, I absently twirled my golden ring around my finger. I don’t remember exactly when we decided to spend the rest of our lives together. It was probably a mutual unspoken agreement. We planned to live together while we were at college and automatically moved into an apartment when we started our first year of work. We often talked about the future, but there was never really a day when we made a conscious decision.
Until one day, when Jasper was still straddling my hips after thoroughly riding me, he said that even when we were an old married couple, he would probably still enjoy this position the most.
Surprised, I said, “Are you asking me to marry you, Jasper?”
“Would you say yes if I asked you?” He raised an enquiring eyebrow and smiled.
I grinned back. “You know what my answer will be, sweetheart.”
“I’ll surprise you one day with a ring, then,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes, and we both knew when and where it would be.
Our fifth anniversary was only two months away and, as the weeks passed, my expectation and excitement levels rose considerably. I debated buying a ring for Jasper as well so when he presented mine over the table, I could give him one in exchange. But I wanted our rings to match, so I decided to wait until I’d seen mine first.
As our anniversary drew closer, I often caught Jasper grinning to himself or his knee or foot tapping restlessly. The day of his proposal couldn’t come soon enough as far as I was concerned.
OVER THE RAINBOW
THE BELL sounded to signal the end of the school day.
Dorian let out a huge sigh of relief. He quickly dismissed his boisterous pupils and logged himself off the computer on his desk by the time they’d all noisily exited the classroom.
God! What a day!
Anyone who thought this job was easy should try teaching Pride and Prejudice to a class of fifteen-year-old boys. And damn it, he still had the bloody staff meeting to attend before he got to go home.
Dorian scooped up his teaching notes and a pile of books he hadn’t managed to mark at lunchtime and strode out of the classroom barely missing two boys who ran past him. “Walk in the corridor!” he instructed the rapidly fleeing flash of emerald green uniforms, but to little effect.
Dorian sighed again and looked down at the books in his arms.
Yet another fun-filled night with hardly any time to relax.
He wished he’d believed the person who’d told him his social life would be almost non-existent during his first year of teaching. Marking, planning, staff meetings, talking to parents, in addition to after-school activities two or three times a week. Bring back college days any time. At least he’d had something he could laughingly call a sex life then.
Thank God it was the half-term break next week. Time to draw breath for a few days at least.
Dorian slowed his pace as he passed the adjacent classroom and glanced hopefully inside. His search was rewarded. Catching sight of the object of his desire made his stomach flutter.
“Hey, Dorian. Have you got a minute before the staff meeting starts?”
Dorian flushed a little and smiled. “Sure.” He glanced appreciatively over his mentor, Mr Leonard. “I wanted to ask you a few questions about my lesson observation tomorrow if you’ve got time.”
Mr Leonard, Head of the English department, was everything Dorian wished he could be—and not just because of the expert control he had over the pupils. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and most of his exposed skin was covered in thick, dark hair that Dorian spent most nights dreaming about; he often imagined what the hairs would feel like if he ran his hands over Mr Leonard’s skin and what this hunk of a man would look like naked.
“That’s fine, D. Let’s grab a cuppa and talk on the way.”
Dorian nodded and shifted the books in his arms so most of his suddenly bulging groin was now covered. The very thought of calling Mr Leonard ‘Sir’ was enough to harden his traitorous dick at the most inopportune moments. He usually thought of Mr Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett at times like these, but those thoughts often turned to Mr Bingley and a wet-shirted Mr Darcy, and he was no better off.
Dorian did his best to concentrate on their conversation, focusing on Mr Leonard’s eyes and lips as they discussed his lesson for class 5B the following day. “And I want you to speak up in the staff meeting today….”
“Yes, Mr Leonard.”
“Look, Dorian, it’s about time you called me Mark. We’ve been working together for over six weeks now.”
Dorian smiled again, his cock pulsing when his name fell from the older man’s lips. He’d never liked the name his parents had given him and had to suffer being called everything from Dory to Ryan in his teen years, but hearing Mark say it sent a shiver down his spine every time. “Sure. If that’s okay with you, Mark.”
Mr Leonard—Mark—paused as they approached the staffroom and huffed. “Of course, it is but not in front of the little Munchkins, though.” Dorian chuckled at Mark’s nickname for the pupils.
I dried myself down with one of the fluffy white hotel towels. Andreas, who was now sporting a pair of shorts, sat on the balcony with his feet perched on a chair, a book in his lap. I loved him dearly, but he seemed to have his nose in a book twenty-four seven these days. Every time I came home from work or back from my sports club, he’d be there reading. Either that or engrossed in his decoupage craft, or whatever his latest hobby was.
After dressing in my cycling gear, I packed up my rucksack with the provisions I needed for the day and went to join him on the balcony.
“Mmm… looks like it’s going to be another warm day.” I looked out across the hotel pool and gardens to the mountainside beyond. The sky was clear and blue. Wispy clouds drifted around the snow-covered peaks in the distance. Lush green grass and woods filled the lower slopes near the resort. Cable cars, looking like dots in the distance, moved slowly upwards to near the summit. Summer season in an Alpine resort was my idea of heaven: physical activity, plenty of fresh air, and hot sex when I returned to the hotel in the evening. Pity Andreas didn’t share my passion for sports and the outdoors—apart from the sex, that is.
Andreas glanced up from his book. “You should have a nice day for exploring.” He returned his gaze to the page, seemingly oblivious to the scenic view in front of us. “Rain is forecast later this evening, but you should miss that.”
A cool breeze blew around the damp hair at the base of my skull. “That’s good. Can you put some sunscreen on the back of my neck, hun? It’s stinging a little today.”
“Mmm… sure. It looks a little red.” Andreas leaned over and grabbed the tube from the patio table. He wiped the moisture from the back of my neck with one hand and applied the cream thoroughly with the other.
I turned to face him, and he coated my face, neck, and the skin exposed above the vee of my T-shirt. A sad look crossed his eyes.
I stroked a wayward hair out of his sight. “You’ll be okay on your own?” I felt a little guilty, but he could have come with me if he wanted.
In the distance, cowbells chimed, and a motorbike sped past the front of the hotel, spoiling the early morning peace and quiet.
Andreas sighed. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Got plenty to keep me occupied here all day. I’m used to keeping myself busy anyway.” His voice trailed off on that last sentence.
“I’ll see you later this afternoon, then.” I kissed him swiftly. “Have a good day.”
“Yeah, you too. Make sure you grab some breakfast on your way out.” Andreas pulled me in for a hug. “Take care. Love you.”
“Love you too. Later.” I scooped up my rucksack, checked my phone was in my pocket, and marched out of the hotel room without a backwards glance. Andreas would be fine.
SERVICE WITH A SMILE
TERRY caught sight of his reflection in the shop window and smoothed down his wind-blown hair. He glanced up and down, checking over his appearance. A smile grazed his mouth. Pleased he’d chosen a tight-fitting T-shirt to exhibit his firm torso, he shifted his attention to the clothing displayed on the other side of the glass. A pale blue shirt instantly caught his attention as did a cream-coloured shirt with a dusky paisley print. Both would complement his tanned complexion.
Terry needed a new shirt for a party later that evening, but that wasn’t the reason he was standing in front of this designer boutique. A flutter of excitement rippled through his belly and travelled down to his groin. Blood rushed to his dick, making it throb in anticipation. It wasn’t the clothing that had his heart racing, but the thought of a particular sales assistant who worked in this chic menswear shop.
It was late on Saturday afternoon, and the shop would be closing up for the day within the next half an hour. He didn’t have long to carry through his carefully planned move. Terry hoped he’d timed his entrance just right. Peering beyond the male mannequins poised elegantly in the window, he searched out his intended target.
Two of the sales assistants were preparing to leave the shop, so Terry moved towards the door. As it opened, an old-fashioned bell jangled overhead, and the two men exited the premises.
“Hello,” Terry said to them.
“Good evening, sir.” They both offered him a knowing grin, and one winked at Terry, who returned the gesture.
Terry watched them walk hand in hand down the street for a few seconds before crossing over the threshold. He couldn’t contain the smile that spread across his face because now only one member of staff remained to man the shop until it closed at half past five.
The one guy he wanted the chance to be alone with.
The one guy he lusted after.
Lily G. Blunt enjoys writing contemporary gay romance and paranormal stories. She loves to explore the relationship between two or more men and the intensity of their physical and emotional attraction. Angst often features in her stories as she feels this demonstrates the depth of feeling for each other. Lily is forever writing imaginary scenes and plots in her head, but only a few ever make it to the page.
She reviews for several blog sites and has recently launched Gay Book Promotions, an online book promotion service for authors of LGBT+ romance and fiction.
Lily loves to hear from readers and other authors.