Sex in the Sky

The shame, the paranoia, the guilt, I’d experienced it all in high school. I’d watch the other guys in the shower out of the corner of my eye, terrified I’d get an erection and be betrayed. After that you’d think I’d grow up and come out of the closet, but I pretended to myself as much as anyone else that I wasn’t gay. I dated, I had sex, I got my first apartment, and still I looked at other guys out of the corner of my eye.

My friend Hunter wasn’t gay. Slim, tall and attractive, women draped themselves over him, and though he was too much of a gentleman to boast, I knew he’d had all the sex they could throw at him. Being slim and short, I’d had fewer adventures, but enough to know something was missing for me. I was surprised one night to discover that Hunter wasn’t entirely satisfied with his sex life either.

We’d crashed at my place after too many beers, as we often did since he still lived with his parents. I only had a bachelor apartment, so I opened my bed and he crashed on the couch nearby as usual. I loved this arrangement because in the dark I’d feel myself get hard in the secrecy of my sheets, even if we just talked about work or chicks or whatever. Knowing he lay a few feet away in his boxers made me tremble quietly. I was only twenty after all.

“It’s all about adventure, I guess,” he said that night. “I mean, there’s no challenge. You undo their bra and they pull it off. You’re in bed before you know it. Wham bam!”

“I think you date a different type of woman from the ones I know,” I said, knowing I sounded jealous but not caring.

“I…I mean, I find it more exciting if it takes a bit more work. Like if you have to win a strip poker game, or, well, if you have to restrain them.” I could hear his blush. This was heady stuff to admit. I decided it needed a really frank reply.

“I’m into a little bondage with a willing partner,” I said.

“Oh, me too! I mean, I don’t want to rape anyone or anything like that. I’d be as happy if they tied me down. You know, so one of us had no choice but to go along. Just to spice things up a bit.”

Bondage wasn’t something I was for or against, but suddenly I had an image of my legs high in the air, my hands secured to the bed posts, and Hunter naked on top of me. My quiet tremble began.

“I’ve thought of that,” I lied. “A little playful spanking, a little teasing. I’ve often wondered what it’d be like to be spanked.”

“Yeah.” He sighed that out, and I knew immediately that spanking had played a part in his fantasies. I had to pursue this. I may have felt guilty, but I wanted to see his near naked body again as I had when he had stripped down before he hopped into the sleeping bag on the couch.

“My problem,” I said, trying to keep the quaver out of my voice and sound clinical. “Is that I don’t know what’s reasonable to expect from a spanking. If I fantasize giving or receiving forty slaps, is that too many?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never spanked or been spanked. I guess you haven’t either?”

“I was taking this chick from behind once and I gave her a playful swat. She groaned and pushed into me, which was great, so I gave her a few more. She asked me to stop but she went wild. We had a great fuck, but after that she gave me a lecture about all men being potential rapists and she never slept with me again.”

“That’s what kills me,” said Hunter as he shifted in the sleeping bag. I tried to pierce the darkness with my eyes. Could I see a lump where his groin would be? “It’s not that I want to dominate women. I’d love to be tied down myself. It’s about playing a game. Making things more interesting. I mean, I bet you’d love to have a chick spank you as much as the other way around.”

“Well, I think it’s important if I’m to know if what I’m fantasizing is reasonable. I’d love to know what it would feel like to get ten good swats on my butt. From anyone. Just to know, you know.”

“Yeah, but no chick is likely to comply.” Again I heard him shift. I knew he was as hot as a cat. I could picture those beautiful abs contracting and expanding as he moved. I’d seen him in the change room enough to know that a reasonable sized cock now brushed the inside of his boxers. He had to be hard.

“You know, I don’t even care if it’s a chick.” I knew I was going way out on a limb here. “I mean, I’m just curious to know what ten good smacks feel like. I mean, you could give them to me. It’s just about knowing if any of my fantasies are reasonable.”

The room became heavy with silence, and I panicked for a moment, thinking I’d pushed things too far.

“Well, if all you want is to know what a spanking is like, I can give you one,” he said. His voice sounded thick.

“If you don’t mind. I know it sounds gay and all, but I just want to know, and like you said, no chick’ll teach me.”

“No, no, I know what you mean.” He sat up quickly. His nude chest sculpted by the moonlight through my window; neither of us had chest hair. “It’s a hard thing to ask. It’s not that we’re gay.”

Hard! He didn’t know the half of it. I sat up and tried not to look like I was trembling.

“No, of course not. But if you don’t mind, I mean, I have to be naked for it to work.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Skin on skin is very important in this kind of game.”

I stood on that cue even though I knew my boxers would tent significantly. I paused for a moment, admiring my lithe frame in the weak light, before I slipped my boxers down to my ankles and stepped out of them.

“Bend over the chair here,” he directed as he stood, pretending he didn’t see my skinny seven-inch erection. He motioned me to my over-stuffed arm chair. I stepped up to the back and he pushed me over it until my hands pressed against the seat, my erection caressing the back of the chair. I knew I’d get pre-cum on the fabric but I didn’t care. I was lost in the touch of his hand between my shoulder blades as he had pushed me down. Even after he let go my skin tingled in that spot.

The first slap only hit one cheek and weakly at that, but still I shuddered and I felt my sex twitch against the chair.

“Did that hurt?” asked Hunter.

I looked over my shoulder, enjoying the vulnerable feeling of being bent over beneath him. My eyes traveled up a leg of light hair to see him over me with one hand in the air, a young athlete with tented boxers. The secreted erection, so close but so obvious, made me wet my lips.

“No, it just kind of surprised me. I imagined spanking would be a lot harder.”

“Like this?” He slapped my left buttock with more enthusiasm. “Or like this?” He slapped my right buttock. Both made me jerk, more because I wanted to rather than from any pain. I suddenly realized that I liked the spanking.

“Even harder.” My voice came out as a hoarse whisper, choked with passion. I prayed he didn’t notice.

“Uhm, little bitch is tough,” he said as he delivered a good crack to my left cheek. This time my jerk firmly ground my organ into the chair until I pushed my behind back into the air. Hearing him call me a little bitch sent a thrill through my veins. Suddenly, as if he were an artillery man who’d found his range, he opened up on me. Six quick hard slaps on each buttock. That was over the ten I’d asked for, but I had no complaints. He stopped and began to massage my left buttock with one hand. It burned in reply.

“Did that hurt too much?” he asked.

I bit back a groan and fought to control myself. I could have pushed my cock into the back of that chair and ruined it with the half-dozen shots that wanted to burst forth.

“No, actually. In my fantasies I’d cry out in pleasure and pain, but I guess you’d have to slap harder and more to make that happen.” I made no attempt to stand, and he switched to massaging my right buttock. I felt so open to him, so ready.

“I can make that happen.” He grabbed my upper arm and pulled me around the arm chair. “Lie across my lap,” he said after he sat down. My mouth went dry. I bent over his knees and felt my erection squash between his upper thigh and my stomach, taking most of my weight. He grabbed my hip and pulled me toward him, as if protecting me from slipping over his knees, but the maneuver pressed my side into his erection. Did I even feel his hips thrust toward me?

He began to slap each buttock hard, and each time my jerking reaction thrust me into his leg and rubbed my side along his firmness. My buttocks began to feel hot, and the slaps really began to sting. Now I didn’t jerk for effect, I spasmed in reaction to the slaps. They hurt! I bit my lip though, not wanting it to end until he was so hot that he’d rip off his shorts and impale me over the armchair right there. Finally a cry forced its way past my lips. He gave me three more good slaps, apparently enjoying each cry that ripped from me.

To my utter disappointment he stopped then, but he massaged my buttocks for a while, pressing in the fire. Lying naked over his knee like that, feeling him caress my behind, remains one of the best memories I have of sex. It didn’t last however. He stood and gently helped me up, but then he hurried to the safety of his sleeping bag.

Suddenly I felt humiliated, but I decided to not be ashamed.

“Whew, that was hot,” I said as I stretched in the moonlight, reveling in my nudity. I made sure I was profile to his line of sight so that if he looked my way he couldn’t fail to see my erection. The glitter of his eyes betrayed him. He watched me alright. I swaggered back to my bed, letting my erection swing proudly back and forth, and I passed his couch as close as I could without tripping on it. Even in the dark he had to be getting a very good look. I lay down on top of my covers with my hands behind my head. There’d be no suspicious bulge in my covers if he looked my way. Nope, instead he’d see that flagpole shamelessly straining to point to the ceiling.

And look he did. He rolled onto his stomach and propped himself on his elbows to talk, young biceps bulging, firm pecs in a dark recess above the couch. Come to think of it, he often chatted with me this way before we drifted off to sleep. Now I knew he crushed an erection into that couch, but I wondered if this was the first time.

“So was it everything you expected?” he asked. I hadn’t really expected anything, so I didn’t have to lie.

“It was better. At first I thought I could take it forever, then I thought you couldn’t make me cry out, then I felt humiliated. How about you, did you find your inner rapist?”

“I enjoyed it because you did. I tell you, it has nothing to do with wanting to dominate women. I just like the idea of restraint. I’d love to be restrained myself, even if she’s going to do things to me that I’m not interested in. In fact, I’d like it better if someone tied me up and abused me against my will. I guess I’m looking for someone else’s inner rapist. But no one wants to tie me up anymore than anyone wants to spank you. I mean, I’d love to know what it’s like to be tied up and helpless, really helpless.”

I noticed the change in his speech. He’d gone from talking about women to talking about ’someone’.

“I can tie you down if you like. One favour deserves another after all.”

“Well, it’s kind of weird, but it’s not like we’re gay.” His voice husked up. He sounded like he had difficulty talking. “It’s just an experiment, like your spanking.”

“Oh, of course. I’ve got some rope in the front closet. I’ll get it.”

As I reached into the closet I heard a shuffle and saw a flash of white skin as Hunter left the safety of his sleeping bag and lay down on my bed, his hands reaching for the bed posts.

I sauntered over swinging the end of the rope and took his wrist without a word, hoping my nudity made him nervous. He still hid his manhood in his shorts. I tied him tightly so as to save him faking helplessness.

“Can you free yourself?” I asked after I sat down on the bed beside him. My naked hip rested against his calf, my right hand on his knee. He struggled for a while, and I enjoyed the sight of lats twisting, biceps bulging, and abs crunching.

“No,” he said at last. “You’ve done a really good job.” His breath caught as my right hand slipped off his knee and up his inner thigh. I let it fall to the bed just below his crotch as if that had been the intended destination and brushing his thigh had been an accident; then I leaned over him and reached with my left hand up to his wrist, as if to check the knot. This brought my right forearm in contact with the base of his pole, again as if by accident, and my chest hovered over his stomach. Again I heard a sharp intake of breath.

I decided I needed more contact with that cloth-covered secret. I carried my left hand to his far wrist, but I had to turn onto my knees and stretch over him to reach it. My bare chest pressed into the material of his shorts, and I let the wetness at the peak of that tent drag between my nipples to my belly button before I sat back, dragging it up almost to my chin before I sat up. All quite accidental contact of course.

“Yes, quite firm,” I said. “But I haven’t taken care of your legs yet, and of course you must be naked.” I grabbed the waist band of his shorts and pulled them slowly over slender hips, careful to trap his cock with the elastic until the erection pulled down against its desire to point at his toes. When it finally sprang free of the elastic it leapt up and slapped his stomach, drawing a hiss from Hunter.

I secured his ankles, dragging him tautly spread eagle in the process. When I finished I felt a great peace. Willing or not, I intended to have my way with him: regardless of what he asked, regardless of what he desired. I was drunk now with passion rather than alcohol.

I stood with one finger on his leg and began to walk along the side of the bed, dragging my finger up his leg, dangerously close to his pubic hair, and up to his chest.

“Do you feel helpless?”

“Yes.”

“Naked?”

“Yes.”

“Vulnerable?”

“Very vulnerable.” He swallowed noisily.

“You see I think you’re a naughty boy. I think you’ve fantasized doing awful things to unwilling victims.”

“No,” he gasped. “Only willing ones. Only things I’d be willing to have them do to me.”

“But what if some girl didn’t want to suck you while she was tied up. Wouldn’t you force her?”

“I might if I thought she could handle it. I mean, you know, if she’d tied me down already and made me submit to forceful acts. If it were revenge.”

“Like if she’d made you suck her boyfriend’s cock?”

“Yes. I mean, if you want to feel really helpless, you have to have things done to you that you didn’t think of. Things you wouldn’t otherwise do. Oh my God!”

I’d straddle him while he talked, but I misjudged the length of that cock of his and as I got over him on all fours, my knees on either side of his hips, my balls brushed the tip of his cock. My face now hovered over his.

“Like being forced to suck cock?” I began to move my knees forward and sat on his chest, my cock waving in his face.

“It’s not that we’re gay,” he replied, his eyes fixed on my cock. “But that would be one thing one guy could do to another to make him really feel helpless and used. It’s the principle of having no choice but to…”

I rose up on my knees and leaned forward, silencing his prattle with the head of my cock. The warmth and wetness took me over. I gently sunk my fingers into his short hair and rested my face against the wall behind the bed for support, then I slowly pushed deep into his mouth. He struggled, whether for sport or protest I didn’t care. I paused and pushed again. He shook his head weakly and made muffled complaints, but I pushed deeper anyway until I felt my pubic hair disturbed by his nose. I loved the feeling of his mouth; I loved the little motions of his head; I loved the muffled protests; I loved the power.

I slide back out of him and let him catch his breath.

“That’s what she’d feel if you forced her.”

“Wow, I mean, you went all the way in. My girl friend has never taken my whole cock in her mouth.”

“Perhaps because yours is at least an inch longer and a lot thicker,” I said as I worked my way back until I knelt between his spread legs so I could look at his cock.

“It’s not that much bigger than yours.”

“Sure it is, look.” I placed my cock against his, rubbing them together as I lined them up. Both of us shuddered this time, and my tremble returned. His erection was a full cockhead longer than mine and somewhat thicker. He raised his head to look but had trouble seeing.

“It depends on where you line up the bottom doesn’t it?” he asked.

“We’re pretty much base to base as far as I can tell.”

I rubbed our cocks together for a full minute as if trying to ensure they were properly lined up, but soon I feared even that motion would make me shoot all over his stomach. I had to do something that didn’t involve my erection.

“I think I’ll see if your girlfriend is a wimp or not,” I whispered as I backed down the bed, letting the front of his erection slide up my stomach, over my chest until its head poked under my chin.

“What do you mean?” He also whispered and his breath came in short intermittent gusts. I sense a slight shudder and realized that he too trembled.

“It occurs to me that one of the most humiliating things I can do to you now is suck your cock. You’ll have to lie there and feel another guy give you pleasure, and if you close your eyes to try and pretend it’s a girl, I’ll brush my five o’clock shadow over your cock to remind you that it’s a guy that’s doing this to you.” I didn’t have much of a five o’clock shadow, but we both ignored that point.

“That’s a good torture,” he whispered. “Forcing gay sex on a straight guy who’s tied…wow!”

I had silenced him by engulfing the head of his penis. I got my first taste of pre-cum other than my own. It didn’t send me one way or the other, but the feeling of the helmet in my mouth did it all for me. I squeezed my lips just below the head where the foreskin must’ve been briefly attached, then I pushed down, forcing my tight lips farther and farther along that perfect shaft. I’d reached the half-way point when I felt the fat head push into the back of my throat.

‘I can do this,’ I thought to myself. I let go of the base of him and put my left hand behind my head. It may have only been symbolic, but I pushed down on my own head forcing myself deeper onto his cock. I gagged and pulled up a bit before I pushed myself down even farther. I loved pretending it was his hand forcing my head down. This inspired me to push to new depths. My jaw stretched wide from the girth, my throat gagged again but I fought it back as my eyes watered. I thought I would be defeated when I felt his pubic hair on my nose, but that wasn’t enough for me. I gave one last Herculean shove until my nose buried itself in his pubic hair and pressed against his pelvis. I half-choked and pulled up quickly, but after lingering for a second with just his head in my mouth I again lunged down his shaft.

“Dude,” he whispered in panic. “I’m gonna blow!”

I pulled off and hovered over his cock. “That’s part of the torture,” I whispered. “You want to really feel helpless? Really have things done to you that you don’t want?”

“Oh God,” was the only reply he was capable of. He flirted with an orgasm just from my breath on his manhood.

“I’m going to make you come with a cock in your mouth. You’re going to taste it as you shoot.” I turned around as I said this and knelt over his head facing back. He didn’t need to be commanded to open his mouth, so I pushed my cock half-way down his throat before I leaned over him and rested my head on his hip so that I could look at his full prominence as I pushed in and out of his mouth, occasionally making him involuntarily protest when I buried myself to the hilt. It only took two or three thrusts and I couldn’t last any longer. I trembled out of control and took him into my mouth. I kept as much bare chest and stomach contact between us as I could.

Lucy said that I just needed to keep putting up a good fight and that the right man was out there. She didn’t seem to have gotten the memo that said most people in the Unites States were single and miserable and that despite there being many fish in the sea, love was very hard to find. I wasn’t sure about love, but from the moment I’d met Jackson Dupree, I’d been reminded what lust was. When I had run into him in the barn, the first thought that I’d had was that he was an employee in his worn in jeans that looked homey and comfortable. But when I’d seen his face I had paused.

I’d met Rene and though they were twins and both handsome men, there was something different about Jackson. Rene was good looking and charming, but he worked at it. From his gelled hair to the cut of his jeans and the too tight tee-shirt, he knew that he was a good looking man. I didn’t care for men who were too good of a flirt because it meant they they’d practiced at it. I didn’t get that feeling from Jackson even when he joked with me during dinner. He’d been relaxed and easy when his body had pressed against mine, his arm firm when he leaned across me to get a fork or another burger. Around his family, he seemed to be in his element. Marie fussed at them all during the meal, but I could see the love shining clearly in her eyes. She looked at her brothers like they were her world. She didn’t judge any of them, no matter how much she scolded. I’d never known that in my own home. My mother was a good woman, but neither she nor my father had been able to look at me the same way since I came out. To them, their son being gay was worse than if I had died, because now I wouldn’t be able to give them grandchildren or a pretty daughter-in-law and they had to explain all that to friends and relatives. Lucy was the only one who supported me. I envied Jackson the love he got from his family.

“So, Simon, Lucy tells us you’re some big lawyer in Baton Rogue. How you like doing that?”

“I enjoy it, Rene. It’s what I always wanted to do.”

“What kind of law you into?”

“I’m a criminal defense attorney.”

“Ah so you hang out with felons. I knew I liked this boy for some reason.” Rene grinned as Jackson gave him a look.

“Well if you like defending criminals so much, maybe you should spend some more time with us,” Remy piped in as he chewed on a crawfish, sucking the meat out of the head. “We’d give you a lot of business in this family, that’s for sure.”

I grinned as Marie and Lucy both reached up to slap him upside the back of the head at the same time. Beside me, Jackson was just shaking his head.

“See, that’s why I went and apologized a third time,” he muttered. “Welcome to the Big Easy, Simon.”

I chuckled as Remy protested, starting to tell a story about the time he, Jackson and Rene had stolen someone’s tractor and taken it for a joy ride. By the time he got halfway through the story, all of the siblings were jumping in to add different parts that the other had forgotten, till it was such a complicated mess that I had to wonder if parts of it were really true. No one seemed to care though as laughter and good food abounded. I felt my shoulders relaxing, letting go of some of the tension that I had brought with me from Baton Rogue.

“You had to see Momma’s face when she came down to bail us out of jail. She took one look at us then told Sheriff Mooney that he should just gas us all like they did to stray cats.” Rene hooted at the memory. “Jackson was the biggest hog when it came to the cot. Can’t share a bed with that one for nothing. You’ll end up with one toe covered by the sheets.”

Jackson flipped Rene the bird before he went back to eating his crawfish and I heard Rene yelp as Marie kicked him hard beneath the table. I grinned, but then my attention got distracted by Jackson. He was pinching the crawfish between his fingers and sucking out the head with a slow slurp that seemed too sexy not to be deliberate, but everyone else at the table was eating them the same way. For whatever reason, it was only Jackson that made it seem intimate.

Maybe it was the way it slid between his lips really slow, or the way his tongue drew over his fuller bottom lip before he sucked his fingers clean. Whatever it was, every time he licked his fingers, I felt things low down in my body coming to life. He was completely oblivious to the affect that he was having on me, but I was suddenly achingly aware of everything about him; the way the sun brought out lighter glints in his dark hair and the subtle scent of some kind of aftershave. It wasn’t the first time that I found myself attracted to a good-looking man. I’d had a few lovers in the past few years, but they had all been people in the same social circle as me; lawyers and doctors and men with power that made them cocky and arrogant. They enjoyed the good life; expensive suits and gourmet meals. Not one of them would ever have eaten a meal with his fingers at a simple wooden table outside in the Southern sunshine. None of them would have been comfortable shooting the breeze in jeans so worn that they fit like a glove. J.C. was refreshing and I could feel my slacks getting uncomfortable when he turned to offer a smile.

“So Simon, how long are you going to be in town?”

I looked back at Marie as I wiped my hands on a napkin, feeling Jackson’s weight steady against my hip.

“I don’t know yet. I took a few weeks off from my job since I don’t have another big trial date for a month. I haven’t taken a vacation in a few years so I figured I’m entitled. I haven’t made any real plans yet though. Lucy said she was coming out here, so I just thought it might be a good place to start.”

Marie nodded and for a moment, I could have sworn there was a gleam in her eyes that made me real uncomfortable, because I’d seen that look in Lucy’s eyes before. It was the kind of look that always made a man cringe because it meant he was going to get it good and not in the way that was pleasurable.

“Well maybe we can show you around town a little. I know that Remy’s working everyday this week and so am I, but Jackson’s got some vacation time coming. Seeing as he owns the place, he can leave Rene in charge for a few days and show you some real New Orleans hospitality.”

“Yea, that sounds like a great idea, J.C. I can run the shop. You keep records like an old bitty. It’s real easy to find all the pending orders.”

“Last time I trusted you alone in the shop, I came back to find that Thunderbird in pieces. Cost me a fortune.”

“Aww Jackson, that was years ago. I’m more responsible now, honest. Ain’t I, Marie?”

Marie looked like she wanted to argue that point, but she nodded and I heard Jackson groan beside me. I knew he wasn’t intending to be, but that sound of defeat was one of the sexiest that I had ever heard. He had a deep voice with a drawl just thick enough to make all of his words sound sensual, no matter what he was saying. I could imagine how erotic it would sound if he was talking to a lover in those husky tones, murmuring about all of the things that he wanted to do to them. From the way he had eaten his crawfish, I was sure he would be a sensual lover. Yet the fact that I was thinking about him in bed when he was so obviously trying to avoid his family’s matchmaking attempts, made me feel like a lech.

“See, J.C.? I’ll be fine. Matter of fact, you should take Simon out to our old fishing spot. Show him what life’s really like down here in the South.”

“That sounds like a great idea, J.C. Bout time you got out of your office. The scent of fish is a better one for you than transmission fluid any day of the week.”

Remy grinned and when I followed his gaze, I found Jackson glowering at him. If looks could kill, his brother would have been fried on the spot. It made me glad that I wasn’t the recipient of that gaze, though I wouldn’t have minded a different kind of heat directed at me…

“It’s all right, J.C. I understand if you’re busy. Lucy can show me around.”

“Actually, I don’t know when I will have time, sugar. I’m sorry but I found out this morning that I need to go on my interview a day earlier and won’t be back till late. You’d have to spend the day alone.”

Lucy smiled at me and now it was my turn to narrow my eyes at her. She and Marie were two peas in a pod.

“Jackson, please just do me this favor. I don’t want Simon to be alone on his first day in New Orleans. I’ll pay you back with some of my famous crab cakes.”

“Now just hold on a second, Lucy. I’m almost 40. I can look after myself for a day.”

“Damn he’s old. Least we know he’s legal, J.C. Ow, Lucy. I was just sayin ”

“Oh nonsense Simon, Marie cut in. “Jackson would love to do it.”

It was my turn to groan. I had lived with my cousin since she was 11 and lost her parents unexpectedly in that car crash. She and I had fought together and laughed together most of out lives. She was the best friend I had and knew me better than anyone and vice versa. I recognized her cupid act when I saw it. I looked over at Jackson with an apologetic look, but when our eyes met for that moment, apologies were the last thing on my mind. His too, if the way his jaw suddenly tightened and his gaze lowered to my mouth were any indication. He seemed to be lingering there and though only our knees were touching, I felt the heat sizzling between us as hot as a Louisiana night. There was a connection here that was unexpected, but obviously present and not going to fade anytime soon. I had felt it when I met him and I knew he felt it now.

So did everybody else if Marie’s soft “ahem,” was any indication. I could feel my cheeks flushing as I excused myself to get another long-neck from the cooler. Rene and Remy were grinning like fools and Lucy winked at me. The fact that everyone noticed just made it more embarrassing, but I felt vindicated when I heard Jackson’s voice.

“I can take the day off. I’ve been meaning to take some time anyway. That is, if you want to be saddled with a man who’s been on a first name basis with the law since he was 17.”

He grinned at me and I felt my stomach flip flop again as I nodded. There was something unexpectedly shy in his eyes for a minute, but when I nodded, he smiled and seemed to relax again.

“All right. I’ll pick you up at the motel tomorrow early. I’d like to get an early start.”

“Sounds good to me. Early bird catches the worm and all.”

“Or the poof in this case,” Remy muttered. Jackson and I exchanged a look and on cue, Lucy and Marie swung and Remy howled a protest. “What I say?! ”

***Jackson***

I was sweating when I’d woken up at 5am the next morning to start getting ready for my fishing trip with Simon Walker. I’d spent 35 minutes in the shower instead of my usual 15, standing under the water that I had turned to cold. I couldn’t remember the last time that I had taken an ice cold shower. I think it was back in high school when I had spent the entire night petting with Amy Lynn Curtis. I had been sporting a raging hard-on for hours after that and yet soon as the water pelted me, it had gone down like a snail retracting. I couldn’t say the same today.

Every time I thought about Simon Walker, I felt my body harden again. It was goddamn embarrassing. I hadn’t been this affected by anyone ever and even though I knew we were being set up by both my family and his, I couldn’t say I minded. I had enjoyed spending time with him yesterday evening. He and Lucy had stayed long into the night, all of us just sipping beers out on the deck together till they’d finally driven off to the motel. Marie hadn’t said anything about the look Simon and I had shared at the table, but I knew everyone had noticed and I didn’t really give a rat’s ass. All I cared about was being able to spend some more time with him. He was intelligent and surprisingly funny, not stuck up like I’d expected. It was rare that I felt that comfortable with anyone, so I planned to take advantage of that while I could.

When I pulled up to the hotel, I was surprised to see him already waiting outside. I felt my lips curve into a slow grin when I saw him. He had traded his khakis for jeans and a light flannel shirt over a white tee shirt. He looked a bit out of place, but he still smiled when he saw me. I grinned as I got out of the truck to move around to his side and open the door. I did it out of habit and only when he looked at me oddly did realize what I’d done.

I cleared my throat, trying to cover my embarrassment at the courtly gesture by getting back into the driver’s seat. When he shut his own door, he looked over at me and smiled.

“Thanks, J.C. First time anyone’s ever held a door open for me.”

“Yea well, southern hospitality and all. You look different today.”

He nodded, looking down at himself. “This ok? It’s been so long since I didn’t have to wear a suit that it took me an hour to get dressed.”

It was more than ok. If it got any more ok, I would embarrass myself. “Yea, it looks good.”

We were both silent for a moment and I felt that heat arc between us when I met those amazing eyes of his for a minute. For a moment we said nothing and then I cleared my throat.

“Listen, Simon, I’m sorry about yesterday. My family means well. They just don’t know when to butt out. We don’t have to go out today if you don’t want to.”

He nodded, then reached over and touched my hand lightly and I felt the heat slide through my body. “I want to go. I was actually going to tell you the same thing. But honestly, I like you, Jackson. I’m not pushing for anything. We barely know one another, but I liked spending time with you and your family last night. I’d like to get to know you better if that’s all right with you.”

I swallowed hard. Damn it. I hadn’t been with anyone for about 4 years and my celibacy stint had never seemed as oppressive as it suddenly did now. It was like a damn albatross around my neck as I looked onto those deep, amazingly blue eyes that seemed as deep as the waters of the ocean. I could easily get sucked into those eyes and I felt myself clearing my throat because this wasn’t like me. At least not the me that I had been for the last eleven years; a good man who was cautious and careful. This sudden heat of desire that flowed through my body felt more like the old Jackson; impetuous and spontaneous and definitely combustible. I had to break eye contact before I dragged him over the seat and scandalized old Mrs. Parker by grinding Simon Walker into the inside door of the pick-up as I devoured his mouth.

“I’d like that. Just didn’t want you pressured into it.”

“I don’t think anyone would have to twist my arm to make me want to spend time with you, J.C.”

His smile returned, almost lethal with how it made my stomach flutter. This man was dangerous territory. I might have to call the cops on myself this time to put me in a cell far from him.

“All right, let’s go catch some fish.”

***Simon***

I hadn’t gone fishing since I was a kid. That was years ago when my father and I still had something to say to one another and when every look that he sent my way wasn’t a silent accusation as to why I had failed him. I remembered that fishing trip well. The sun had been warm on my shoulders as he taught me how to bait the line and then send it out over the water. We’d fished from the dock and that afternoon as I watched the graceful way he arced the line out, I’d known that I loved my father. I loved him with the adoration of a child who wanted to please and now that I was an adult, that adoration hadn’t faded which made the fact that my own father despised me, so much harder to swallow.

I was reminded of that memory when Jackson Dupree flicked his wrist, sending the line out over the waters of the river. It dropped with a soft sound before he began to reel it in a little and then stopped. All of his movements were oddly graceful, his broad shoulders leaning into the movement before he straightened and just watched the water, his profile partially obscured by the battered cowboy hat on his head. That hat looked well worn, molded by his hands constantly working its shape over the years.

He was wearing another tee shirt today, those same faded jeans still low on his lips. Standing there, he was everything that I wasn’t and I felt myself look away. The waters surface was covered by gentle ripples, the sun warm enough across my shoulders by mid morning that I had to remove the flannel shirt. I took the moment to try and distract myself from my thoughts.

Physically, J.C. was a completely different man from my father. My father was a tall, imposing man with a barrel chest and a clipped accent. He’d moved to Louisiana from New York and never quite lost the sound of that city. My accent was more subtle than most southerners because I’d tried for years to emulate him. Neither of us sounded anything like Jackson whose steady slow rumble seemed to fit perfectly with the laziness of the moment. Yet they both had that same confidence about themselves. They were comfortable in their own skins and with the life choices that they each had made. One was a high profile, local politician and the other was a mechanic who liked to fish and had a crazy family who could smother you with love. I was nothing like either man because though I had everything I’d worked for, when I wasn’t in a courtroom doing what I did best, I didn’t have one goddamn clue who I really was.

I shook my head as I moved to the edge of the bank to try and cast my line, but I had spent too many years behind the library stacks or facing a jury. I could tell you all about the mechanics of casting a fishing line from a textbook, but despite all that knowledge, I couldn’t work the reel and my aim was off.

I heard a low rumble of warm laughter behind me and then turned to see J.C. standing there. He had settled his rod into the dirt to let the line bob and tempt the fish beneath the lazy waters.

“Looks like you’re having a bit of a problem there.”

I nodded, embarrassed. One more way for me to show that I didn’t belong out here. I couldn’t even work a damn fishing line. “Yea, it’s been a few years. I’m sorry.”

“Why you apologizing for? You just need a refresher course that’s all. Like learning to ride a bike-you never really forget. Look.”

He paused as he came up behind me, straightening the rod in my hands. When he shifted, I could feel the warm, strong line of his body lined up behind me. He was taller than I was by a few inches and broader through the shoulders. His hand was warm and secure on my wrist as he guided my arm back wide. The movement put my body at an angle against all that lean hard muscle and I felt my breath catch.

“That’s it. Just lean back into it. When you let it fly out, just hit the button right here to release the line where you want it. Now arc back and let it go.”

I obeyed and when the line flew out and hit the water, he chuckled. I could feel the vibrations though the back of my body and when I turned, he was standing close enough that I could taste the mint on his breath where it flowed gently over my mouth.

“See, you’re a natural.”

“Guess I have a good teacher ”

We both should have moved. I knew that, because despite the fact that I honestly liked this man, what did we have in common? I was a white-collar worker. He was a blue-collar one. I know that that sounds bigoted, but honestly it was just an unfortunate reality. I couldn’t imagine J.C. wearing anything but those worn-in jeans that had been the focal point of my fantasies last night after I drove back to my motel. How would that ever fit into my world of three piece European suits and expensive champagne? Yes, I knew that I was jumping the gun since I had just met the man, but after the last relationship that I had been in, I had learned two important things about myself. One, that when I gave my heart, I gave it for a good long time. Two, because of that fact, I had to be very careful who was the receiver of that gift.