Christmas In Wonderland by H J Perry

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Like many authors, I am taking part in this event, contributing a free fun short sexy story as my gift for you one day in December.

To read the stories by the many authors as they appear through December please visit the Rainbow Advent Calendar facebook Group.

And this is where the links to the stories will appear throughout the season: The Rainbow Advent Calendar 2018.

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MY STORY for the CALENDAR is a sweet and sexy story called Christmas in Wonderland.

Over the next few days, it will appear on all the major ebook stores priced at FREE but you can read it here first, or download it in any format from here at Smashwords, Kobo and other bookstores.

First, you can find info. about all of my books here on this blog site and on my website: HelenJPerry.com

If you enjoy this free short story and haven’t read any of my books before I suggest you check out the book 1 in my Sky High Scaffolders series, which is FREE at most bookstores. It is called: Our Secret Wedding.

If you read in Kindle Unlimited you might want to read my latest book: The Prince and the Bodyguard. It is my only book in KU and will only be there for 90 days.

Christmas in

Wonderland

by

H J Perry

Christmas in Wonderland © H J Perry 2018

THE ACCOMMODATION

Depending on how you looked at it, my first night in the caravan was either exciting and horny or cold and lonely. I prefer to put a positive spin on my situation whenever I can.

For a start, it was not, strictly, a caravan. The three-bedroomed, static old mobile home had been used by a constant turnover of temporary farm workers. The walls were badly scuffed, and the place smelled of damp. The indoor temperature seemed colder than outside. I preferred to calling it a caravan because I was focused on the adventure of living in it for two weeks, and it sounded a little bohemian.

And I’m the sort of person who likes to focus on the silver lining rather than the cloud.

The cloud? I was supposed to be there with my mate, Lee Sharples. At the very last minute, he couldn’t make it.  He had chicken pox. It explained why he was so tired lately. He’d put his lethargy down to end of term exhaustion and the pressure of school work. A new explanation emerged when the spots appeared on the final day of school.

Enough about Lee; back to my silver lining.

As I’d arrived at the Kentishford farm without Lee, I got free choice of choice of where to sleep in the mobile home allocated to us. One other lad who was due to arrive the next day was expected to stay as well. There was never any doubt I was going to choose the biggest bed in the only so-called double bedroom. It can’t have been more than four foot wide, the bed not the room, although that wasn’t much bigger. I  wouldn’t have fitted in the child-sized beds that they apparently classed as singles in the other two bedrooms.

Thankfully, Lee hadn’t come along, or we’d have had to do rock paper scissors for the least undesirable sleeping space.

Needless to say, at first, I couldn’t relax. Strange bed. Strange place. Strange noises outside.

I’m a teenager.

When I’m alone, of course, I have a sure way of passing the time and relaxing—a method that sends me to sleep with a smile on my face.

I wank.

A lot.

Call it a hobby of mine.

Something I like to do once, or twice, a day.

Masturbation and teenagers inevitably go together like mistletoe and holly, like Christmas pudding and cream, like turkey and cranberry sauce, like pigs in blankets.

As I live at home with my parents, the opportunity to watch porn in my bed with the volume up loud, and for an extended time without fear of being overheard is rare. Fortunately, I like reading erotica too. I imagine the guys to be exactly how I want them to be. Word porn makes no sound, except for the movement of my wrist and my heavy breathing.  

I hadn’t figured on watching porn while staying in a caravan with Lee. The risk of getting caught was too high. He’d have no problem with porn, he watches it too, but there’d be some explaining to do if he discovered my taste in viewing material because I wasn’t out to him or anyone else.

So I’d stocked up my book app with gay erotica for reading in bed. I thought it highly unlikely any of my mates would pick up my phone and work their way into my reading App.

When it comes to erotica, I love the whole lot: gay for you, straight to gay, jock and geek, and gay-first-time. Stories like what I hoped will happen to me one day. You know, stories I can relate to being a virgin and still looking forward to my first kiss.

At home, the opportunity never arises for extended sessions of self-pleasure in my own bed at night without a fear of being discovered, overheard or interrupted due to…, well, parents, of course.

I only had the tiny screen of my mobile phone available, but I had a paid-up subscription to a Hung Young Brit’s website and I fully intended to make the most of the night by getting off with some gay chav porn.

THE INTRODUCTIONS

Franklin? Are you Franklin?”

Two men who strode toward me both appeared as well bundled as myself. We were all dressed in warm coats, hats, and gloves. All of our winter outfits were topped by the unmissable high-visibility Wonderland vests that all the staff wore. That was where the similarity ended between the two.

I nodded.

If it weren’t for the work vest, the taller of the two men would have blended into the countryside. He wore a mix of khaki green and bark brown with a splash of bog black. His trousers were tucked into sensible green wellington boots with thick socks bunching out over the top. “I’m here to take over from you now,” he said.

Thank you, Mary, Jesus, and Joseph. I’d just lived through the longest one hour and forty-five minutes of my life. Unfortunately, it was also the first hour and forty-five minutes in my new job, which didn’t bode well for the weeks ahead.

One of the things I learned about myself that morning was that I’m not cut out to be a car-park attendant or any role that involves directing traffic for that matter.

Since the start of the day, I’d been standing a few feet from the main gate of a farm in the middle of nowhere, aka deepest Kentfordshire. My sole task, waving cars onward toward the far end of the field where they’d disappear from view beyond a hedge and into the next area to park.

Not one driver stopped to wind down their window and ask a question. They all filed passed slowly, barely acknowledging me. Inside their vehicles, they looked warm, cozy, and excited about the day they were about to enjoy at Wonderland. I should have thought to bring ear buds for my phone, so I could have listened to something to pass the time.

My camouflaged replacement jumped into his new hand-waving role without further ado.

His companion and I both watched him for a few seconds.

I’ve been sent to collect you and take you to empty all the rubbish bins.”

Oh, great joy.” I didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic. It just slipped out that way. I was cold and bored, but they were poor excuses for rudeness.

If I wanted to be rude, it would be using a very different meaning of the word, at least with this guy.

My very first impression of him was that he had to be fun. There was nothing about him that would blend into the rural background. He’d stand out in any crowd.

For a start, he wore a red and white bobble hat with a polar bear and snowflake motif and coordinating scarf. His coat was a dazzling shade of bright blue. I could imagine my English teacher at school telling me it was sapphire blue. I’d say it was an I-demand-you-look-at-me bright blue.

And boy did I want to look at him.

What I could see of him was quite beautiful.

The blue coat made the most of his eyes. As for the red scarf, do I need to tell you about his full lips? His whole face looked kissable. Even the chin stubble looked soft and begged me to stoke it.

With. My. Face.

He shrugged. “I’ve heard this is your first day, so I’ve been asked to show you the ropes. By which I mean bags of waste. You’ll be doing it on your own next time.”

Can this day get any better?” The day had apparently taken a turn for the better as I was on a task with Mr. Beautiful Bobble Hat. But to him, it may have sounded as if I was voicing negative thoughts with the undertone of a lousy attitude. I would’ve tried kicking myself right then for letting my mouth run away with itself; however, I’d probably fall over and make a bigger fool of myself.

The conversation over, he turned away and began to walk in the direction of the Wonderland village.

If I’d have dawdled, I could have followed behind and checked out his rear. Instead, I hurried along to walk beside him.

I mean, after the mind and body-numbing torture of standing in that cold field, anything would be better. At least I’m moving about and doing something if I’m emptying smelly old trash.”

I don’t allocate the tasks, but they’ve all got to be done.” His mouth was set straight.

I’d like to see him smile. I’d like to be the one who made him laugh.

We walked alongside each other across the field. I didn’t take my eyes off him, but he never glanced at me—no surprise. I’d not done anything to make a good impression. I tried to sort through my mind for something sensible to say, but my brain was half frozen. The best I could come up with was, “Good to know you’re not in charge. Sorry if I came across a bit snarky. Did I mention that I’m cold?”

Mr. Beautiful Bobble Hat’s mouth curved upwards into a hint of a smile. “I know what it’s like standing out there in the cold. Let’s go get hot drinks before we tackle the rubbish.”

Just the idea of something hot and sweet passing my lips made me feel warm inside. “I’m starting to like you already.”

Good thing you do.  I’m Brett, by the way. And I’m sharing your mobile home.”

THE WINTER WONDERLAND

Oh,” I said aloud, while in my head thinking, oh, my god. Sleeping with wafer-thin caravan walls between bobble-hat-wearer, Beautiful Brett and I, how would that work out?

I arrived this morning, and Sharon let me in to dump my bags before sending me to find you for rubbish duty,” he continued.

Sharon was one half of the enterprising couple who ran their festive business on this farmland. She lived in the main farmhouse a couple of hundred yards from the temporary workers’ accommodation.

Brett and I were part of the temporary hired workforce. I was down to work every waking hour for two weeks right up until Christmas. Working all the hours and being on-call for any middle of the night emergencies required living on site.

I hope you don’t snore,” I said as we near the end of the staff-only slipway from the outside world into Wonderland.

It doesn’t wake me up.” He chuckled. “If I do, don’t worry, I sleep through it.”

Stop a minute.” I put my hand on his arm to bring him to a halt. “Just look at that.”

We were just a few yards from the Winter Wonderland village, and it looked magical.

We’d been walking down a gradual slope into a valley, and we were slightly elevated when were stepped forward from the boundary bushes that had surrounded us and obscured the wondrous view of the site. I hadn’t previously seen it from this vantage point.

It’s quite cool, isn’t it?” Brett said.

Twinkling lights of various colors hung in the trees all about, both near and far. Set in the heart of the Kentfordshire countryside, the aim was to let people imagine they’d been magically transported to the real Santa’s Village at the North Pole. I could see it.

Wonderland had all the things you associate with Christmas. People in Victorian costumes gathering around a Christmas tree three times a day to sing carols. An olde-worlde themed marketplace. Why the Victorian theme, I don’t know. Nostalgia, for sure as we wouldn’t want to return to those times, before the welfare state when poor people lived in workhouses, and if you couldn’t afford a doctor, you’d be left to die.

Already the smell of chestnuts roasting over an open fire wafted up to us on the breeze, it was simply delicious.

The Wonderland village was primarily a fancy arts and crafts market, with additional stalls selling food and drinks. There were also traditional fairground amusements such hoopla, hook-a-duck, and a fortune teller worked from an old-fashioned gypsy wagon mixed in between craft stalls.

The stalls weren’t just laid out like a modern market. Every booth and every building was clad to make it look old and magical.

Stallholders and many of the staff were dressed up in either Victorian costumes or Christmas themed outfits. They were supposed to be elves and other magic creatures or someone from a Dickensian Christmas.

From the marketplace, the public would catch a little train to the star attraction.

People came from far around to take their little ones to see Santa in the Wonderland Grotto. The mini narrow-gauge railway ran around the perimeter of the nearby lake taking the passengers to Santa’s grotto even though it was close enough to walk. The train journey added to the experience making it more of an extraordinary adventure. Of course, the driver was one of Santa’s elves.

Once they arrived at what appeared to be Santa’s home, the excitement continued. There followed a walk through a lengthy and beautifully decorated grotto. I hadn’t been inside, but I’d seen an online trailer advertising Wonderland.

This is my first day,” I told him. “I only arrived yesterday, well, last night, so I haven’t had a chance to see it all yet. It looks special you can see why people come here.”  

We stood together watching people milling about the picturesque scene for a minute or two in silence.

Franklin, you look frozen stiff. Come on; hot drinks await us.”

THE HOT DRINKS

Elves staffed the self-service cafe. People paid elves. At the cash desk, we flashed our staff ID cards to elves, in case they were color-blind, and the high-vis vests weren’t bright enough. An elf discounted our drinks to free.

Our staff identity badges entitled us to free food and drink in the main catering marquee. It wasn’t entirely benevolent of our employer. The marque provided budget mass catering so that visitors would have plenty of money to spend at the commercial concessions. And while the bosses fed and watered us, it was easier to keep us at work as we had no reason to leave the farm to go shopping or do our own cooking.

I liked the fact that even though I was working for the minimum wage, I’d feel better off at the end of the two weeks because there was minimal opportunity for me to spend money unless I wanted to buy mince pie flavored fudge and have my palm read.

Why do you think we aren’t we dressed as elves?” I asked Brett as we made our way to an empty table in the far corner.

Do you want to dress up as an elf?”

No. Not really. They look good in Lord of the Rings.” I hadn’t given it any thought, and I didn’t know where I was going with my answer.

Legolas looked stunning.” A dreamy expression came over Brett’s face. No. It couldn’t have. I must have been projecting my own impure thoughts about elf version of Orlando.

I think you’d look good in an elf costume. It would go with your eyes.” And, I did kick myself.

Shit.

Commenting on his eyes was the gayest thing I’d ever done in public with another bloke. It was the Orlando Bloom effect. Think of the gorgeous sexy actor and common sense leaves the building.

Without behaving as if I’d said something odd, which I had, he smiled.

I’d made him smile.

Well, thank you, Franklin. The mere fact we’re going on rubbish patrol should be enough of an explanation. We not employed to interact with the public, we’re backstage.”

That’s us, Brett and Frank, making it work behind the scenes.” I’d gotten a smile and felt sure I was close to getting a laugh. It was time I made sure he knew I wasn’t a prat. “And, by the way, I really am sorry if I sounded like a dick earlier.”

No worries. I know how you feel after standing in a cold field on your own for an hour. I’ve been there. Wait until you do it in the rain and the dark.”

And hour? It’s been more like two. Anyway, that’s history. This isn’t your first day here then?” The park had already been open a couple of weeks, since late November, but they increased the staff numbers as it got closer to Christmas. I couldn’t have come sooner due to school, so I was pleased that had this later influx of workers.

He shrugged, and his smile got broader. “That’s history. This is my first day this season, but it’s my fourth year. It ties in well with the Christmas break from Uni.”

So, Brett was older than me. I was supposed to start university next year, assuming my grades were good enough.

I’ve turned up and stayed in one of those mobile homes every year. I guess you’ve taken the big bedroom?” Brett asked. “I just dumped my bags in the lounge. Sharon was on my back wanting to get me out to work.”

Big bedroom. You’re having a laugh. You’ve seen inside those tin cans. There isn’t a big bedroom. There are various sizes of small rooms with tiny beds.

Fair point.” He eyed me. “And you are bigger than me.”

Easy on the big, comments. I’m not overweight, I’ve just got my winter padding to keep me warm, not that it’s working too well. And I’m big boned.”

He raised an arched eyebrow. Meanwhile, his gaze skated over my torso to linger briefly on my crotch.

Oh, my god. I wasn’t talking about that big bone. But his mind went there, and my mind followed.

THE WORK

Having begun with a bad start, the rest of the day’s work wasn’t too bad. We emptied the waste bins, we shifted boxes of who knows what from one end of the site to another, and we wheelbarrowed hardcore and smaller stones to fill a hole that was forming in the pathways. We found time to mop toilet too. It was quite okay. Fun, even. And no task was too awful.

Brett and I stuck together, and it was much better working as a team than standing around on my lonesome. Even the dullest task can be pleasurable if you have a mate to do it with. We had a laugh and frequent breaks for hot food and drinks.

After thinking about what he said about Legolas and other stuff, there were moments when I wondered if Brett were into blokes too, but I dismissed those thoughts as wishful thinking.

Then, there were some of our interactions that got me wondering, too. The way he’d look me up and down or wink—I wondered if he might be flirting with me, but that was definitely my imagination working overtime and producing too much to wish for.

At times I wondered how things might work out after work when we were alone in the caravan.

Things could get difficult.

Me lying in bed awake and restless and fantasizing about sleeping with Brett (or any other gorgeous man, for that matter) while Brett slept in a bed that was way too close to mine with just that slither of a wall between us.

As it turned out, by the time we finally entered the caravan that night I was too exhausted to function. After the long hours at a new job, followed by a late supper for residential staff held in the main farmhouse, I was ready to crash out. I didn’t wonder about how Brett was going to manage in one of those tiny beds partly because thinking about Brett in bed was not a good idea.

The caravan was freezing, literally, it might have been down at about two degrees, the same as the outdoors. There had been no heating on all day. The only heating in the place was the gas fire in the living area and an electric wall heater in the hall outside our bedrooms. We agreed to switch on both heaters for the night and leave our doors open in the hope that we didn’t die of hypothermia in our sleep.

In the future, we’d have to slope back to put the gas fire on an hour or two before we planned to come back for the night.

I put all the spare covers on my bed, and I didn’t wash, it was too cold. I just put on clean clothes (including sock) over my dirty body, got into bed, and was asleep within minutes of my head hitting the pillow.

Days panned out in much the same way as the first.

After that, we left the heating on in the caravan twenty-four seven.

The caravan warmed up, but it never got sweltering in there. It just maintained a survivable mild temperature. We were able to shower and function in the mornings, but we didn’t linger. Late night hot supper and an early breakfast were on offer at the farmhouse, and we started work early because there was plenty to do before the gates opened. In particular, everything had to be opened up and turned on. Things had to be checked for weather and animal disturbances in the night.

Brett and I stuck together every day as we worked well together as a team.

I hoped I wouldn’t make a fool of myself, but I had a horrible feeling I was going to throw myself at him at some point, and that would make things awkward. However, by the time we made it to the evening meal each night we were exhausted. Eating and cleaning up was about all we could manage. I was too tired to look at anything on my phone: no ebook App, no hardcore porn.

THE LAUNDRY

After eight days of twelve-hour days, I was more than happy to get a new set of work instructions for the day.

You two,” Sharon said to Brett and me as soon as we appeared at the farmhouse for our six thirty breakfast. “I want you to knock off at ten, take a break, catch up on some sleep and be back here for four.”

A day off?” I said in amazement.

Half a day,” she corrected. “Do laundry and get some rest. You look tired. You should make sure you take a nap as we’ll be starting earlier tomorrow. High winds are predicted for tonight, so we need to make doubly sure everything is secure so you might have to work a little later tonight to do that and be ready to rectify any damage first thing in the morning.”

So, not really time off at all.

We were on our way back to the caravan by ten with nothing to do. “What shall we do? Shall we see if we can get tickets to visit Santa?” I asked It didn’t need pointing out that the caravan was bleak and cold. It wasn’t the place anyone would want to hang out on a half-day off work.

What would you say you wanted for Christmas when you sat on his knee?” Brett nudged me.

I don’t know, the chance to lie in a warm, comfortable bed for a month.”

Well, you heard the lady, you know what we gotta do,” Brett replied.

We can’t do laundry; we did it yesterday.” With years of experience at this, Brett had introduced me to his plan for clean pants and socks when you work all hours.

Adjacent to the farmhouse, there was an outbuilding that functioned as a laundry. In addition to the machines, there were also places to hang clothes, but it was cold, damp and dusty in there so hanging cleanly washed laundry made no sense at all. We’d bundle our things into a washing machine before breakfast, and at the first opportunity between chores, we’d return to move the wet items into the driers.

No, not laundry.” Brett winked. “She told us to go to bed. Not quite for a month, so you can’t say Christmas is coming early.”

Oh, sweet Joseph of Arimathea, save me. I gulped. Christmas might not be coming early, but there was every danger I would if Brett mentioned US going to BED in the DAYTIME in one sentence, again.

I’d quite possibly started to walk funny in the last few days with my full balls as big badgers. The work rest balance hadn’t allowed any time for those normal functions.

We arrived at our mobile home, and Brett pulled out his key to unlock the door. “I’m not sure I can sleep, though. Not when it is only ten in the morning.”

What will we do in bed if we aren’t sleeping?” I tried to sound as normal as possible but I damn near ejaculated in my pants as I crossed the threshold to our tin-can home. My cock was as hard as space would allow and wedged into an uncomfortable position.

I’ve got a number of answers to that question, but I’ll go with the clean one,” Brett teased.

Please don’t.

I want to hear the dirty one.

THE BEDROOM

I’ve got my iPad. We could watch a film together if you like. Or separate if you prefer. We’ve been together all day every day, so I’d understand if you’d like your own space.”

I don’t mind if we have no space between us at all. In fact, we could even fill in each other’s spaces, was something I didn’t say. “Watching a film together sounds good.”

Great. I thought in your bed; obviously two people don’t fit in mine.”

Frankly, I don’t think two grown men will fit in mine either; it’s big enough for one person.”

If I told anyone about this, it might sound strange that we were discussing watching a film in bed in the daytime instead of in the sitting area. It’s one of those things where you had to be there. We’d not sat in the living area at all. We hadn’t used the kitchen facilities either.

If you saw it, you’d understand.

I don’t mind getting close, Frank. We’ll share body heat and keep warm.”

This plan was all very well, but I could foresee embarrassment on the horizon. We weren’t Abbott and Costello or Laurel and Hardy. Sharing a bed in the daytime wasn’t going to end well, and I wondered how I’d gotten myself into this mess.

Brett went into his room to get into his PJs and fetch his iPad. Meanwhile, I stripped off and into my thermal sleepwear and slipped under the duvet. I did this super fast because my dick only subsided to half mast and was like to rise again at any moment.

We settled down to watch Shrek. Soon I completely relaxed. We laughed at the jokes and repeated the best lines. By the time the film was ending, I could barely keep my eyes open. Brett was also slumped and, so he set the alarm for later, and we went to sleep.

Three hours is precisely the wrong amount of sleep to have.

I must have been in deep when that alarm sounded. I was vaguely aware of Brett mentioning snooze, and I was out again. Five or ten minutes later the alarm was blaring again. And then Brett was shaking me awake. We really did have to get back out there. I had time to shower, which I needed to wake me up. Brett took one too. And while I he was in there, I absolutely didn’t imagine white foam being rubbed all over this glistening wet body. No, that image didn’t enter my mind.

The wind was getting up outside, though nowhere near storm level. Brett and I joined the crew, taking things down as a precaution and preparing for severe weather. It was the usual routine. Work. Evening meal at the farmhouse. And back to the caravan for bedtime.

Except, of course, I wasn’t tired.

I’m not really tired,” I said to Brett. This was his chance to suggest Shrek Two. And that would be how I seduced a man into my bed for the night, for the first time in my entire life, using an animated ogre.

What he actually said was, “You should try to get some sleep because if there is a storm, we might not be able to sleep later and tomorrow will be a long day.”

Okay.

Once in bed and wide awake, I had a choice. I could plug in my earphones if I wanted to listen to the sound too, but I decided to go for the other option and tapped open the ebook App.

I was about ten or fifteen minutes into the book, and it was a slow burn none of us were aroused, not the characters nor me, when thought I heard a noise.

I put the book down, raised myself up from the pillow, and tilted my head to listen.

It was a soft, barely audible scraping sound. It could have been anything, inside or outside this flimsy building. At least I knew there was a smoke alarm in case of fire and a carbon monoxide detector in case of trouble with the gas fire. But I didn’t want trouble at all.

The soft scratching sounded like an animal, and I was concerned it might be a rodent gnawing away at the frail fabric of the building.

Quietly, I climbed out of bed to investigate. I didn’t want to alert the creature before checking it out. I was half convinced a small animal was making a nest in the spare bedroom that should have been Lee’s.  

I was chiefly concerned it might be the sound of trouble. A rodent sneaking in and or worse, a problem with the only two sources of heating. The gas fire worked well enough, but the electric heater in the hallways only ever got warm, never hot. It was like trying to warm up a kitchen using the heat from the light in the fridge.

The disturbance was so faint, it was barely audible.

Only when I stood right by my door did I discover the sound actually came from another direction, from Brett’s room. There was also a faint glow of light too.

I  froze. Not from cold. Froze with the fear of being caught hovering near his open bedroom door like a peeping Tom. I realized the source of the sound—Brett’s wrist action resulting in fiction against the sheets.

It wasn’t the frantic, fast-paced knock one out; I might have identified that sooner. This was the sound of slow sensual movements—a man who wasn’t in a hurry but taking his time. The faint glow of light was probably from his iPad. I guessed he was watching porn.

Sweet baby Moses in a basket. Basically, he’d passed over the chance of watching a film with me in my bed so he could watch other people fuck. Not that I’d invited him into my bed, not unless he was telepathic.

There was something wrong with him being alone right then instead of sharing it all with me. Not that I wanted to watch straight porn, I assumed he was straight. But I could have watched him. I could have given him a hand with things.

I understood the need for alone time. I hadn’t jerked off since my first night in the caravan.

And, of course, while all these random ridiculous thoughts raced through my mind, my dick pinged to attention again.

Franklin.”

THE NIGHT

If I stood really still perhaps he wouldn’t call me again.

Franklin, is that your shadow I can see moving out in the hallway or do we have a ghost?”

Shit. I’d been so quiet. “Yep. Got up to go to the loo.” I placed a hand over my erection, it wouldn’t do for him to see that shadow or silhouette, and I stepped forward into the bathroom without looking in his direction. I didn’t want to see his dick. Lie. Well, obviously I did, but not like this.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t know I’d heard him, and we could carry on as usual.

I didn’t need the bathroom at all, and there was no pointing Percy at the porcelain in my current condition, so I ran the tap and splashed water about instead.

When I’d been in there too long, I placed my hand back over my hard rod and stepped out hoping Brett would be doing the decent thing, pretending to be asleep. He wasn’t. He was sitting on the end of his bed, apparently waiting for me.

Alright?” I said because it seemed like one of us had to say something.

Yeah. Good. I was just watching porn.”

Oh.”

Do you want to watch it with me?”

Is it Christmas already? “Yeah, alright.” I didn’t move. I just stood there with my hand on my dick, which wanted to dance.

Your bed?”

Yeah, alright.” Because I’d become a great conversationalist. I led the way, and we took up the same positions we were in earlier. Side by side in my bed.

I was just browsing porn hub,” he said. “You got any preferences?”

Don’t ask me that question. “Whatever, anything really. What were you watching?”

You probably should have asked me that before you invited me into your bed.”

I didn’t invite you. You invited yourself.”

Okay, as you asked, there was a guy getting a blow job.”

I’m good with blow jobs.”

Yeah, I can imagine.” Brett sounded playful as his elbow rolled into me.

I mean watching them. I’ve not had any experience actually giving them.”

No? Oh, you surprise me.” His tone had changed to something more serious. “I wasn’t sure, but I thought you might have been into guys.”

Oh, no. So not fair. You don’t get to ask me outright without telling me whether you are. Except you do. Because you just have. “Um…”

I don’t mind you-you want to watch girls together or guys together, or mixing them up. I should have told you before, certainly before I got in your bed, I’m bisexual.”

Oh.”

I thought you might be too. I can go if it’s a problem.”

No.” I put a hand on his thigh, over the top of the cover. It was his thigh. Much too think to be anything else. “It fine. I’m gay, but how could you tell?”

He turned to look straight at me. We were uncomfortably close, but I felt compelled to look him in the eye.

I couldn’t tell. I just hoped. After all, you’re cute, and we get on well. I guess my imagination ran away with me.”

He said I’m cute and I’ve been in his imaginings. I just stared at him.

Brett turned to face forward, and so I followed his gaze to his iPad. “Gay blow jobs it is then.”

I wasn’t sure I could do this.

Brett.”

THE KISS

When Brett tapped his iPad, it brought up whatever he’d been watching, which he’d put on pause. It was a blow job all right. Several blow jobs, in fact, all in the one room. The gay group scene was precisely the sort of thing I might have chosen to watch.

What?” he asked.

I’d never watched porn with someone else before and after all that had already gone before, I wasn’t sure how I’d survive it.

Would you like to do something else, instead?” Fuck in hell, Frank, what’s wrong with you?. That sounded so lame, so I decided to pull up my big boy panties and get the job done. “I was going to say can we kiss, but what I’m thinking is why watch it, when we could do it?”

There, done it.

Without looking at me, Brett put the iPad to sleep and then placed it on the bedside locker. After, he turned to me and put a hand on my cheek.

At this point, I was already in danger of dying from lack of oxygen. He didn’t help matters by sealing his lips against mine. Our mouths opened and our tongues automatically sought out each other. He had a taste and smell that was so divine I wanted to dive in and drink him.

The chill in the room seemed to drop away with the bed covers as our hands found each other.

His worked down from my face to my biceps my hands went to his chest.

I realized it might have seemed I was pushing him away when I wanted him so much closer.

Something inside of me marveled at how right this felt as if we were made for each other. Our personalities brought us together as ideal teammates at work and as friends. It was safe to say we’d become friends in the short time we’d known each other.

Chemistry brought us together in the bedroom.

A physical chemistry that I didn’t understand, but it was there. Everything about him pleased my senses. The sound of his voice when he spoke. The things he said that raised my spirits. I don’t need to mention how great he looked. And up close in the bedroom, I could add the taste of his mouth, the scent of his skin, and the feel of his body next to mine.

His arms wrapped around me and he pulled me down the bed a little before I realized that was his plan so that we were laying side by side. The kiss only briefly interrupted before his lips found mine again. Perhaps it was a predictable move that I didn’t know. I was so inexperienced, as in, zero experience. It crossed my mind I should tell him. And I dismissed the thought in favor of just seeing how things developed.

In this new position, we were able to get much closer. Our chests touched, and it took my breath away. Our arms wrapped around each other and I found my legs wanted to wrap around him too. My legs automatically knew where they wanted to go, but I didn’t let them. It seemed too forward, and too fast for me.

Perhaps I didn’t need to tell him I wasn’t ready to move through all the bases at great speed.

He hadn’t so much as tried to go any further than kissing, just as I’d mentioned.

Maybe I’d already told him about my inexperience in some subtle way because he seemed to understand me as if we were in tune and he knew me by intuition.

And kissing was enough to make my head and body feel ready to explode with fireworks and probably an orgasm too. My cock was so hard, and I just knew it was obscenely tenting my sleepwear. When it nudge against him, I gasped. That contact alone felt terrific. As we continued to kiss we somehow slithered closer together until our dicks rubbed against each other, and they were pushed up close together.

It took my breath away as I experienced an overload of sensory pleasure.

Franklin,” he whispered against my cheek when we broke our mouth to mouth contact. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Um, you are touching me.”

No, I mean, your skin, under your clothes.” Even though he was asking, his hands were already working their way up under my T-shirt.

Yeah, definitely,” I replied, and added, “Why don’t we just take everything off.”

So I know I’m a human bundle of contradictions. I was frightened of going too fast only because I’d never been there before, but at the same time there was a danger I was going to come in my pants if I didn’t get them off soon, and I really wanted to see him naked.

Brett must have felt the same way as he sat up instantly and pulled his top off and then continued to push down his PJ bottoms. I couldn’t move as my gaze was transfixed by the sight of so much manly skin up close to me and available to me to touch.

Jeeeeez,” I said before removing my sleepwear at the speed of light.

And then it was as if someone fired the starting pistol and we were off with no restraint.

The porn I’d watch had always been very dick, and ass-focused mixed with lots of kissing. What happened on that bed with Brett was something entirely different and awesome. It was like a carefully choreographed complicated dance, and yet we knew all the moves and were able to do them in time.

We locked together exploring each other’s bodies with our hands and mouths and tongues. Rolling about taking it in turns on top or below, to straddle each other.

Slowly and carefully he trailed his fingers over my chest, my stomach, moving closer to my dick, teasing but not quite reaching it before he diverted his attention to my hands. Our fingers weaved, he held my hands, and they gently parted once again if it were part of the dance. He pulled my fingers to his mouth. He licked them. He sucked them. I watched.

The sensation made my dick bounce and dribble.

I couldn’t figure out what the fuck was happening that finger sucking seemed so sensual. Were fingers major erogenous zones or was my mind playing tricks on me?

The thing was, we didn’t touch each other’s cocks, directly, they bounced eagerly between us like excited little puppies jumping up for attention. But we lavished that attention on the regions above each other’s belt area, and it felt more amazing than I ever would have imagined.

Is this okay for you?” Brett asked.

Fuck, yeah. Amazing.”

I wasn’t sure. You know. I’m just doing what I want to. What feels right.”

I wasn’t sure what the fuck he was talking about. But I didn’t care if he wanted to babble. I wasn’t up to meaningful conversations right then either. “Brett, can I suck your cock?” I could be direct when I the moment required it.

He nodded.

His expression and lack of words suggested he was struggling to hold it together too.

He got off me, and I shimmied into a better position, and finally wrapped a hand around his dick.

He groaned. “Oh god. I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Me neither.

Believe it, Brett.” Were my final last words before losing my cocksucking virginity. The end of his dick was soaking wet with precum, and I licked it all up with a flat tongue before opening my mouth wide to take him.

I’d watched enough porn to know deep throat was a thing, but I didn’t know if I’d be able. His cock didn’t hit the back of my throat, but I was proud of what I achieved for a first attempt. I worked my mouth up and down, using my tongue as well and the moans and expletives coming from Brett suggested he like it as much as I did.

I certainly liked doing it.

No two ways about it, cock is wonderful. I like looking at them, and now I’d confirmed I loved giving blow jobs too.

Franklin,” his hands tightened on my head.

I liked the sound of my name coming from his mouth while my mouth tasted his sweet precum that flowed like a dripping tap.

You need to stop.”

I wasn’t so keen to hear that.

Or I’m going to come.”

Well, come then. That doesn’t sound bad. Having already established he was not telepathic, I reluctantly let his cock fall from my mouth. “Come. Now, Brett. Come in my mouth.”

Oh god, You have to let me do the same to you.”

He said it as if there was some chance I’d say no. It was a question so stupid I didn’t grace it with an answer before resuming my newest hobby of dick sucking. This time I lavished my attention on the head and around its sensitive, wrinkled ridge. I worked that area with my tongue and lips. When he came, I didn’t want it hitting the back of my throat and gone. I wanted to taste him.

His cock pumped into me great quantities, and the great force took me by surprise. It tasted hot and dirty and nice and I damn well almost came myself. I wasn’t expecting so much on the tip of my tongue. And it started to dribble out down my chin. Something told me Brett might like to see that so I straddled him, rubbing my throbbing dick against his as I did so.

Brett opened his eyes and looked at me with a smile.

You look pleased with yourself,” he said. “Like the cat that got the cream.”

I grinned and opened my mouth just a little so he could get a sense of just how much white cream I had.

There was a glint of kinky mischief in Brett’s eyes. “Come here and kiss me.” I bent forward and made sure his mouth opened before mine as we locked into an open-mouthed, cum-sharing kiss. Using his tongue he pushed his jizz back up into my mouth, but gravity kept drawing it back into his. It was the best kiss ever.

Come and give me yours, Franklin.” He licked his lips, and I knew he was eager for it. “Over my face, in my mouth, however you want. Come, sit over me.”

Did I say we were perfect together? He was perfectly made for me. I moved up his body until my knees were either side of his head and I was almost sitting on his chest. I tangled my dick so that he could lick the end, which he did with great enthusiasm. His strong hands held my arse and guided me forward.

He licked the length of my knob, dick tip to root and on to my balls. He gave them enthusiastic attention. Licking and sucking and touching. And his hands urged me a little further forward.

I moaned loudly when his tongue made intimate contact with my hole. You can read online guides about sex for gay men, but until you do it, with someone else, you have no fucking idea how great it is going to be. At least I didn’t. It was even better than I expect and I decided there, and then I was an ardent enthusiast of rimming, and I had to do it to him as soon as possible.

I couldn’t take it for long before I had to jerk away from him. “That’s too good,” I said.

Come if you want to,” he replied.

I couldn’t argue with his logic, so I relaxed the mental control that had been holding back. He wrapped one hand around my dick and started licking the end while wanking me. Meanwhile, he slipped a finger inside me at the rear. “Fuck, fuck. Yes. That’s good.” I wasn’t holding back I wanted him to know what I thought. Within seconds I was coating his tongue and face in white ribbons of my spunk.

Brett looked quite debauched and beautiful like that.

I sort of spent a while in orgasmic euphoria before I came to my senses and thought about getting off him and wiping him clean.

When I slipped off him, he jumped up and out of bed at surprising speed. I’ll be back he mumbled. And he went into the bathroom.

I wasn’t sure whether to pull my clothes on, so I snuggled down under the duvet. It seemed much colder now the bed was a man down. It was then that I noticed the noise outside. It had been quiet earlier when I thought I heard a rodent invader. Now, the wind was kicking up a storm. It made angry noises as it hit the trees.

After a few tense minutes, Brett returned with the biggest grin I’d ever seen on his face. He climbed into bed beside me and reached out to cuddle.

I was really scared I was going to mess up, but that was okay wasn’t it?”

It was better than okay. Why be scared?” Okay, I was scared, but I didn’t need to tell him that.

I’ve fancied the pants off you since we met so there was pressure there And I’ve never even kissed a guy before tonight. So I was worried about doing the wrong thing.”

Are you taking the piss?” I felt confused.

No. Why?” he looked confused.

How can you be a virgin? You’re twenty-one.”

He frowned. “I’m not a virgin, Frank, I’ve been with girls. Just never blokes.”

Oh. I see. Well, I was scared too, because I am a virgin. Well, does this count as sex?”

Brett kissed my forehead. “It was fucking awesome for me. We touched each other, and we both came. That counts as sex for me.”

What next?”

My eyes were shutting. It was far later than my usual sleep time since arriving at the farm.

Brett kissed me again. It was light and gentle. “Sleep now. And we’ll try to find time to do it again tomorrow.”

I couldn’t focus any longer. Sleep claimed me.

*

The next day, something felt different.

When the alarm sounded, it seemed unusually bright inside the caravan. I rushed straight to the window to check where the light was coming from.

Brett, was snow forecast?”

I don’t think so.”

Well, it snowed. It might not stay. And it’s not a thick layer. But it’s white snow and it’s drifted.”

A bit like me drifting into your bed. Look, Franklin, I need you to get back in bed with me while we can and tell me whether we’ve got time for snogging and stuff before we go to work.”

So last night wasn’t a one off for you, Brett?”

Snow doubt about it, I’ve never met anyone like you before in my life. We go together perfectly. I’m hoping we’ll get to know each other better and date as well.”

Do you want to go out with me?”

Yes, Franklin, thank you for asking. I do want to go out with you. From what I know of you, we’ll make terrific boyfriends.”

Note:

FYI, Hung Young Brit is a real person and maker of erotic films, and gay chav porn is a real British thing.  https://www.bbc.co.uk/bbcthree/article/a347bf9f-138c-4163-862f-4daab329ee37

Note:

This book was written for the 2018 Rainbow Advent Calendar 2018. Check it out and look for more free stories.

You can find info. about all of my books here on this blog site and on my website: HelenJPerry.com

If you enjoy this free short story and haven’t read any of my books before I suggest you check out the book 1 in my Sky High Scaffolders series, which is free at most bookstores. It is called: Our Secret Wedding.

If you read in Kindle Unlimited you might want to read my latest book: The Prince and the Bodyguard. It is the only book I have in KU and will only be there for 90 days.

ChristmasInWonderland-small

The Prince and the Bodyguard a new book by H J Perry

It’s going to be exclusive to Amazon and available to borrow in Kindle Unlimited until late February. Expect it at all the other ebook stores around 28th February 2018.

Also, check back for some more from me in December, including a freebie and a $0.99 discount bargain.

Scroll down for an extract. meanwhile here’s the blurb:

Blurb: The Prince and the Bodyguard by H J Perry

“I like my men available now and gone in the morning.”

Currently in personal security, Oscar sees his future as forever closeted and single.
His love life can never be more than a series of hookups with men who want the same. No repercussions and no emotional involvement.
Definitely not a client.
But it’s lust at first sight when he meets the ultimate temptation, HRH Prince Tobias.
Oscar was supposed to be guarding that body not getting to know it better.
Intimately.
For a week.

“Seducing the bodyguard was easy. Moving on and forgetting about him was impossible.”

Toby can’t stop thinking about his first time with a man.
The instant attraction between him and the gorgeous bodyguard was impossible to ignore.
With his anything’s-possible attitude, Toby can only see why they should be dating.

In this sizzling high-heat romance two men reassess what they want in their futures.
Among other things this high-heat, low- angst book features:
* Two men in their thirties.
* A bisexual prince charming.
* A temporary secret boyfriends arrangement.
* The International Year for Indigenous Languages.
* A Cornish pasty.
* A very romantic happy ever after.
Approx 50,000 words.

Standalone novel, there is no cliffhanger, no cheating, and there is a happy ending.

 

600 scale Prince and the Bodyguard

EXTRACT:

 

CHAPTER ONE

OSCAR

Fast food, french fries, a fatty burger, along with a sugary soda. None of it constituted Oscar’s usual dietary routine. Feeding himself utter trash was an aberration for a man who usually paid such close attention to his body and what went into it.

Yet, he figured he needed a blow out like this, just now and again. It wasn’t so much a loss of self-control because he chose to drop his usual self-discipline.

Waiting for the arrival of a client, Oscar’s typical way of passing the time at the airport involved chilling in the overpriced concessions. In this impersonal space, he gathered his thoughts, shed his personal life, and assumed his role. He usually did it with something more… healthy… than junk food.

The dietary deviation would counterweight the working week ahead, which was due to commence when the client touched down. Oscar would be back on his game for his newest assignment as the bodyguard for a European prince. To Oscar, the prospect screamed babysitter to an upper-class twat.

Still, it came as easy money to pay the bills.

Raleigh Security and Vital Protection, RSVP, paid well. Despite what they showed in movies, assassins were rarely hired to take out clients and all their security detail, fortunately. Kidnappings and car chases didn’t occur often. Protection being a misnomer, there was very little actual guarding involved, ever.

Oscar imagined the week would involve shadowing a posh foreigner who would sound as if he had a toffee in his mouth, wore clothes that cost more than Oscar’s salary for a month, and attended brunch. The client’d be a man who ate caviar and tiny portions of food in the sort of restaurants that treated food as an art rather than something to eat and vital to survival.

Prince Tobias.

Even the name seemed dorky.

A number of the staff at Raleigh Security were surprised when Oscar declared he’d never heard of Prince Tobias.

The agency had given Oscar a small dossier of basic information about the prince including newspaper articles. Nothing really interesting. They expected the job to amount to nothing more than a week of being a rich dude’s escort.

Oscar had no idea why the client chose to travel on a scheduled airline with the masses, but the flight was due in soon.

Most security jobs were fairly easy jobs that Oscar could pretty much do with his eyes shut.

Well, not exactly shut, eyes very much had to stay open, but it didn’t get much more taxing than no sleeping on the job. Except when sleeping on the job was required, such as for this client. The prince required twenty-four-hour security. Around the clock. Someone who’d sleep with him.

Not sleep with, exactly, but be nearby in the same hotel.

Oscar always delighted in sleeping on the job, earning an excellent hourly rate for his bunse money while he lay between the sheets in a hotel room.

The client might carry the tag of His Royal Highness, but the threat was minimal, as evidenced by the fact that Raleigh Security assigned only one man to the task. Escorting the client from A to B would be Oscar’s main role. In addition, he’d appear intimidating and give peace of mind to someone who feared a shootout at the OK Corral might erupt at the drop of a hat.

Didn’t the Prince know he was coming to one of the safest countries in the world? Oscar wondered if His Royal Highness, the hoity-toity prince, had ever encountered someone who wasn’t posh, rich, and pasty pale white.

Flight 291 has arrived. Passengers are disembarking.”

The announcement came bang on time, exactly when Oscar expected it. Just as well, he’d eaten all the fast food he could stomach. He picked up his tray, carried it over to the trash, and dumped it. He straightened up his suit. Whatever the client expected, and even without a real threat, Oscar intended to be as professional as always.

While wondering if the client looked anything like he did in the grainy black and white newspaper photographs, Oscar made his way down to the arrivals terminus.

Oscar never really cared for media gossip, and people who were famous just because of the womb they crawled out of. He certainly wasn’t interested in following stories about celebrity families when he’d spent much of his life steering clear of his own. Not steering totally clear, exactly, but keeping them at arms length.

CHAPTER TWO

TOBY

To Toby, a private jet seemed excessive to carry just him and his assistant. It didn’t seem right to be extravagant in the mode of transport, given the all the charity work he did. He’d argued to keep the trip on the down low and on budget. Being royalty wasn’t just a matter of birth and family, as he was frequently reminded, it was a business.

We have a bodyguard waiting for you at the terminal, Tobias.” Teresa didn’t look at him as she spoke but ran a finger down her page of notes, the glow of the screen reflecting on her glasses. “Listen to him. This isn’t your home. There’s practically war on the streets here with frequent stabbings, vehicles used as weapons, and people murdered by toxic poisons. There are terrorists using things we’ve never thought of as weapons and there are even shootings. I don’t need to run through it all again. Just don’t be complacent.”

Toby shook his head. “It’s one of the safest countries in the world and the people are just people, like they are back home, but I take heed of your warning, yet again, oh wise one.”

I am the greatest foundation of wisdom and don’t you forget it,” she joked.

Never.”

He’d had to argue people are the same the world over all too often. He found it hard to believe how much some of his fellow countrymen held such strong fears about foreigners in other parts of Europe or just about anyone different to themselves.

As a photogenic prince, he had cameras focused on him much of the time. He’d gotten used to it, but it didn’t mean he liked it. People judged him based on his title, his family, and his looks rather than who he really was. And he wasn’t free to make mistakes in private and forget them. This wasn’t going to change, but he intended to work it to his advantage.

The fame and celebrity that came with being a prince was a double-edged sword. Now in his thirties, Toby had learned to wield the sword for good rather than evil. He embraced and treasured his charitable work. He used this undeserved fame to shine a spotlight on issues by showing up in troubled places. Doing this and posing for cameras raised awareness and often money to combat problems such as homelessness, diseases, or disaster recovery.

If he hinted at a relationship with some local starlet, he’d get even more of the media spinning.

Teresa huffed and looked up from the screen. She stared past him and toward the little porthole window.

Toby followed her gaze as the plane came to a halt.

People like us they may be, they eat, breathe, and sleep, but it’s not like being back home. Now, you don’t have anything scheduled for the rest of the day. I have meetings, unfortunately. Tomorrow we’ll be making a whole host of first appearances. For today, your bodyguard will show you to your hotel and help you get settled in.”

Toby sighed. “Do I really need a bodyguard? I’m not even all that famous, I doubt anyone will recognize me.” It was no big deal for a prince to be among the common people in Europe. Only the monarchs and the most senior of politicians had continuous security.

They might not recognize you. That’s not the issue here. We’re stopping over in London, it’s a dangerous place. You’ve seen the films like Fast and Furious and The Bourne Ultimatum.”

They’re not real, they’re action films. You might as well mention American Werewolf in London and Shaun of the Dead, Teresa.” At times like this, Toby found his assistant frustrating. She meant well, but she seemed to suffer from travel-phobia, if that was a thing. She read the worst events in the news and wrote off whole countries as Thunderdome. “It’ll be fine. You should go out and see the sights too.”

She shook her head. “Tobias, we’re both tired and I’ve got work to do. And then we’ve still got the long journey to Cornwall to look forward to.” She rolled her eyes. Internal travel to the far-flung western region was set to take longer than getting to England in the first place. “Let the security do his job and look after you. And I’ll do my job, which unfortunately means going straight to a meeting from the airport, with my suitcase.”

Expanding your horizons is never a bad thing. Do you want me to take your suitcase?”

No.” She shook her head and smiled. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”

Unlike his sheltered assistant, Tobias intended to enter the country with an open heart and an open mind.

While the prince hardly hated flying, he didn’t exactly love it either. When the seatbelt light turned off, Toby stood up along with everyone else. He pulled down his bag from the overhead compartment, and Teresa’s, which was packed alongside. As an experienced traveler, he’d practiced packing light. “If there’s nothing else to do today. I’m going to explore and see where the day takes me.”

This is why your father insisted on a bodyguard. You’re so anarchic.”

He placed her bag on the seat he’d vacated, knowing from experience she’d be the last one off the plane after she’d reorganized her hand luggage. He didn’t need to wait for her as they were both meeting separate people in the airport and she had to go off to a meeting before checking into the hotel.

Consider it a contribution to the local economy.”

He walked off the plane, surrounded by people too involved in their own traveling stresses to recognize him.

Once through all the passport checking and bag collecting ordeal, Toby was finally on the free side of the airport. He wanted a drink, if nothing else. No better way to get to know a new place than in a local bar.

First, though, he had to kowtow to the wishes of the CEO of The Royal Family PLC, whether he liked it or not, and find that bodyguard.

After having an issue with the first security company they’d tried to make arrangements with, the actual security thing had been organized at the last minute, right before the plane took off, so Toby didn’t know what the guy looked like, or his name, or even if he was a man. In conversation with Teresa, they’d both assumed the bodyguard would be male, but Toby had certainly met female security guards before.

Toby only knew the company name; he remembered that because it didn’t sound real. RSVP. How could it be real? Private protection security companies weren’t known for their sense of humor.

Toby scanned the waiting room outside the gate.

There, some distance away, stood a handsome man in a dark suit. He had chiseled features and neat hair. His appearance spoke of a man who took control and liked organization. Yet, at the moment, as his gaze skated around the room, he appeared vulnerable and a little lost.

He was so striking, even beautiful, Toby found it difficult to drag his eyes away in search of his security.

There was no obvious representative from RSVP. No one holding up a card with this name, HRH Tobias, thank god.

In the absence of anyone else to distract him, Toby found his feet taking him closer and closer to the handsome stranger in the suit. Something about the man said he wasn’t a businessman, but by god, he wore the suit well.

For a moment, he let his daydreams run wild and thought about propositioning the man. About watching him remove that suit in a nearby hotel. A man could dream though, couldn’t he? Maybe something for his private times in his bedroom.

Toby had to get a grip and reign in his freely roaming imagination.

Toby wasn’t naïve. He couldn’t ask his, as yet, unidentified security to wait outside while he had a quickie with a stranger in the closest hotel.

Even if this was England, well-known for it’s libertarian support for gay rights, bodyguards had an incredible love of the type of manliness that included a strong dose of homophobia.

Step by step, Tobias moved closer to the man, until he stood right in front of him and had no choice but to speak.

CHAPTER THREE

OSCAR

This was not the time for cruising. Nevertheless, Oscar’s eyes did their own thing.

He’d spotted The Guy straight away. A gorgeous man, with Mediterranean features, his stylish but casual clothes said Italy. And then there were his limbs. Casually dressed in a collared shirt with short sleeves, The Guy’s incredibly toned forearms, and how they led up to more delicious meat, caught Oscar’s attention immediately.

If ever he’d like to meet a man who looked like The Guy it would be by chance in a certain type of bar. But not here. Not in an airport. Not when Oscar waited on a client.

The procession flooded outward. Woman. Old man. Child. He knew Tobias wasn’t geriatric or too young. He was an adult, and they were much the same age.

Oscar’s attention flitted back to The Guy with the arms and hungry desire in his eyes. Eyes that raked up and down Oscar like he was a piece of meat and took Oscar’s breath away.

And honestly, at a different time and in a different place he’d have welcomed such attention. Subtle changes in his body language would have signaled his interest and invited The Guy over.

Now, Oscar tried to avoid eye contact.

In most aspects of his life, Oscar pushed himself to exceed limits and expectations. He was a sportsman and highly competitive, but this one thing easily defeated him. He couldn’t handle approaches from men in public. It would have been easier if he’d been either straight or out, but he wasn’t one or the other. Deeply in the closet, gaining the lustful attention of men in public places made Oscar very uncomfortable. He didn’t know how to react.

His mouth went dry.

The Guy made his way toward him though, he wasn’t be put off by Oscar looking away.

When the stranger came to a halt, standing right in front of him, Oscar had no choice but to look the man in the eye. Those beautiful come-to-bed eyes. Such expressive eyes that sparkled with warm, friendly humor.

“Hi.” The Guy’s voice wrapped around Oscar’s head like a warm scarf in winter. “I’m supposed to meet someone here. Are you, by any chance, with RSVP?”

Prepared to say no and back away, the words caught Oscar by surprise. He coughed to clear his throat. He’d obviously read the situation all wrong. The man was so damned attractive it had distracted and disarmed Oscar: not good in his line of work.

“Oh um… yes. Prince Tobias?” He must’ve seemed like a fool who’d forgotten his own name and why he was there.

He hadn’t been toppled by a dude’s looks in a very, very long time. And now, to discover it was the client who had this effect on him, it shook Oscar.

A hand shot out. “A pleasure to meet you,” said the prince, that accent of his as charming as anything else about him. Perfect English diction with a hint of southern European vowels. It didn’t sound like there was any candy or food of any kind stuck in his mouth.

Oscar never thought of himself a man who’d be disarmed by a sexy accent, but this prince? His voice was like sweet frosting on a hard-bodied cake.

With ease, Oscar fell into his familiar professional role. “Pleased to meet you, sir.” Oscar shook the warm hand, noticing the soft skin that hadn’t done a day’s hard labor, and he did not imagine the silky soft skin on other parts of the prince’s body.

Moisturized hands notwithstanding, Tobias didn’t look like someone who needed a bodyguard. He didn’t project privilege, wealth, and royalty. He carried himself like a normal guy, albeit one with confidence. As he was tall, broad, and fit, he looked as if he’d be able to handle himself in a fight and maintain a pace with Oscar’s extreme fitness regime.

Mentally, Oscar slapped himself.

It didn’t do to salivate over a handsome client, or imagine himself wrestling with the same client.

Wrestling in nothing more than underwear. Oh, no.

“I’m Tobias. Please call me Toby,” the prince said. Snapping Oscar’s thoughts back from a place he never wanted them to go. This guy made the name Toby seem sexy, something that Oscar had previously considered impossible. “And you are?”

“Prince, Oscar Prince.” He’d always thought saying it like that made him sound cool like Bond, James Bond. Usually, though, he only said it like that when he was trying to charm a guy into his bed for the night.

“Prince? That’s your name?” The prince laughed.

Oscar gritted his teeth. “Yes. It’s a pretty common surname here.”

“I’m sure. I never expected to meet another prince in the airport. Did they pick you out for this job because of your name? Like, do RSVP have a sense of humor?”

“Um, yeah.” Oscar forced a laugh. “So, if my briefing is correct, I’m to look after you for the next week. A few days in London and then down to Cornwall?”

Tobias nodded. “Isn’t it across to Cornwall?”

Technically it is, but we always say up to London, no matter if you’re going down.” Shit. Should not talk about going down with this guy.

No going down, got it.” The prince winked.

Oscar blinked. He couldn’t react. As a professional he had to ignore the prince’s sexual banter.

You shouldn’t really need security. Especially not in Cornwall. But I shouldn’t talk myself out of a job either. So if you are ready I have a car outside.”

“Lead the way.”

They set off walking to the short stay VIP car park immediately outside arrivals.

Having a bodyguard wasn’t my idea, no offense intended. It’s the CEO back at the family business. He’s afraid I’ll wander into a dark alley and be shot by rednecks, hence hiring your company.”

Oscar must’ve looked blank because Tobias, Toby, instantly explained. “Royalty is the family business, and dear old Dad is hands-on as the CEO. We call him King for that reason.”

Relaxing a little more, Oscar smiled. A chatty client with a sense of humor seemed a huge improvement on how Oscar had imagined the prince. They just might get along well for the week. “Dark alley rednecks.” He scratched his head. “I think you’re mixing up your stereotypes and your countries.”

“Those were his words, not mine. I’m more than happy to learn the difference.” He was friendly. Cordial. And attempting to break down barriers.

Yet, being on the job for Oscar meant stopping at professional conduct, not getting overly friendly. “Come along. Apparently, being your bodyguard also means I’m your chauffeur today.”

Oscar didn’t have to follow the client to the toilet or anything crazy, but his job was to stick close, to drive him around while they were in London, and sleep in an off room in his hotel suite.

The prince followed his lead without complaint.

When Oscar opened the driver’s door of the security firm’s standard issue, black town car Toby approached the passenger side.

“What’s wrong?”

The prince must have picked up on Oscar’s surprise.

“It’s typical for clients to take the back seat. That’s all.”

“You’re a bodyguard, not a chauffeur. Maybe you can guard my body better if I sit here next to you.”

Oscar could do without references to the prince’s body; the client may have been flirting, Oscar wasn’t sure, but he could do without flirting too.

“So, can I call you Oscar? Or is it Mr. Prince?”

“Oscar is fine,” he replied without emotion.

“Right. I like informal too. It’s definitely Toby, not so much Tobias, and certainly not Your Royal Highness Prince of Europe.” He chuckled. “So, Oscar, does a fine strapping chap like yourself have a lady? Kids at home? I noticed there’s no ring on your fingers.”

Jump right in with personal questions why don’t you?

Oscar couldn’t help but notice the way the royal looked at him, like he was some sort of curiosity.

“Company policy forbids personal jewelry.”

“So if a nice lady tries to seduce you on the job are you open to offers or already taken?”

“Fraternization with the clients is also forbidden.”

“Wow.” The prince dragged out the vowel, sounding genuinely surprised. “That sounds strict. It’s not the army.”

“It’s basic professionalism, sir.” This man was relentless. Had he no shame or reservations about trying to poke through Oscar’s personal life?

“Sorry, if you don’t want to talk. Back where I’m from, people chat and joke about these things. I don’t mean to offend you.” Tobias held his hands up as a sign of submission. “I don’t want to overstep any boundaries. I’m single, myself, by the way. No kids either.”

Why had he said that? Oscar couldn’t figure it. Was this casual conversation about families and home life or was this goddamn client letting him know he was single for a reason? Was he interested?

“Right. You probably won’t want me keeping all the good looking ladies at too great a distance then, when I’m guarding your body.”

The prince laughed. An easy, full, hearty laugh.

The laughter was infectious. Oscar smiled too. He couldn’t help it. He enjoyed playful, funny people. Someone who made him laugh would be the type of boyfriend he would have if he could have boyfriends.

I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you seem to speak perfect English with hardly any accent.”

Privileged education. I actually studied here in England for a few years,” Tobias replied. “Come on now. You and I both know that there’s no threat to my well-being. You’re a security blanket. Basically, you’re here to make my team feel better about my safety while I’m here. But I don’t feel uncomfortable. It’s the other people in the royalty business back home who are worried.”

This made Oscar’s smile wider. He could totally picture himself as the prince’s blanket, the thought was already warming him up in ways it shouldn’t. There were ways he wanted to make Tobias feel better, but damn if any of them were actually legal to do to someone without their permission.

“I have to be alert for any threats to your well-being.” Mostly, the biggest threat to the prince’s well-being right now seemed to be Oscar himself.

Find it at Amazon:

Dot COM: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KQFVYK3

Dot CO UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07KQFVYK3

And from 1 December I will be joining many other authors to contribute to a special advent calendar of FREE LGBT short stories. A treat or two for every day of December.

rainbow calendar thumbnail_RACbanner18

Gay Construction Workers: A Short Story

ZK Carpentry: “The best hand for your wood.”

With his special skill set, as a porn star and a carpenter, Zack wasn’t with grumpy Mike the plumber for money, or for his none existent charisma.

It must have been love. What was Mike’s appeal? 

Construction workers shirtless Depositphotos_45796011_original.jpg

Amateur Site Work © H J Perry 2018 reedited from earlier version

Amateur Porn Site © H J Perry 2016

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the copyright holder, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within critical reviews and articles.  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

The author has asserted his/her rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book.

This book contains sexually explicit content which is suitable only for mature readers.

This short story was previously published in a collection.

This is the story of the making of the porn film that is watched by Connor in Our Secret Christmas by H J Perry, the second book in the Sky High Scaffolders series.

Helen’s website is HelenJPerry.com for more information about her books.

Or sign up for notifications from Bookbub each time H J Perry publishes a new book 

Site Work – H J Perry

TREVOR

Do you know what’s happening in Plot 23. Fuck all, that’s what. I want a plumber there now.”

At work, Trevor Clarke thought he knew Mike better than most of the other tradesmen. They saw each other almost every day, Monday to Friday, and had regular run-ins with robust language befitting the relationship.

As the site foreman, Trevor’s job would have been easy if all the trades pulled together and did their bit on time. The workmen, however, acted as if their objective was not to create a housing estate for the developer at a rate of ten new houses a month.

Mike was the chief plumber here; he was head plumber at the previous site Trevor managed too. And before that, Mike was a plumber on a site where Trevor utilized the skills of his trade.

A carpenter by background, Trevor’s very first run-in with Mike must have been more than a decade earlier. Trevor could still recall it to this day. Mike cursing, swearing, and demanding cash. He claimed that due to a lack of care when laying the floorboards Trevor had damaged the first-fix, plumbing pipework.

“You tell me, why else would fucking water suddenly start pouring through the fucking ceiling?” Mike pointed to the offending leak.

Trevor shrugged. There was no arguing with the facts. A nail that he’d hammered had been there for all to see.

“I fitted that carcass, filled it, and tested it two fucking weeks ago. It was as tight as your wallet then. You’re gonna have to let the moths out and pay me to fix the damage.”

Big deal, Trevor nailed a pipe, albeit by accident—these things happened in construction.

Ten years on and Trevor didn’t see so many incidents of accidental damage.

Older and wiser now, Trevor knew nailed pipes weren’t always what they seemed. Plumbers damn well damaged the pipework themselves—some of the time. They’d do it as an excuse to cover up their own shoddy work, or to earn a bit extra if they could get away with it.

The foreman needed expertise in forensics to get to the bottom of some of the pranks and scams run on building sites.  

Damn plumbers. They admitted to nothing and always blamed someone else.

As far as Trevor was concerned if carpenters were called Chippies and electricians were called Sparks then plumbers should be called Drips. But that insult never caught on in a workplace where there was too much testosterone and men armed with dangerous power tools.

Trevor traipsed around the site looking for Mike because there were no excuses for lack of action in plot 23. The completion of the plumbing carcass had to happen that day, no matter what, for the electricians to start on time.

At that moment, the first fixer was missing in action. The plumbers installing sanitary ware in plots 35 and 38 all shrugged their shoulders with a couldn’t care less attitude because they didn’t answer to the site foreman. And they weren’t first fixers. And, no, they didn’t know where Mike was.

It was a goddamn laborer who reported seeing Mike going into the cul-de-sac, heading toward plot 17.

Nothing was going on in plot 17; Mike had no reason to be there. Despite that fact, he sometimes joked he was buying it. Most of the guys had 17 down as one of their top five, if they had to choose a house and live on this estate. All the guys on the site, those who’d actually looked at the plan of the estate, knew it was one of the most desirable plots.

Due to a lack of housing in the UK, the government had announced plans to build a quarter of a million more homes within the next few years. It seemed like half of those were being built right here, on these very fields in central England.

When potential home buyers turned up, they were presented with fields, trees, and rural country views. The sprawling estate of tightly packed houses with small gardens and insufficient parking space, as it would be in a few years hence, was not presented. There were so many houses already approved here; they’d be building this estate for years into the future.

Just here and there around the edge of the territory, corner plots were the exception. Desirable, tucked away, and secluded, plot 17 was one of them. It was flanked on two sides by a small patch of wild scrub land that was protected from development. The eventual owner of plot 17 would enjoy twice the land space of most other properties. And an unusual degree of quiet privacy.

It had already sold.

As soon as marketing began, it went off plan before the footings were in the ground. The future owner had already put their deposit down and selected their choice of kitchen and bathroom fitments.

The sales team liaised with people buying properties. If purchasers paid their deposit before the house was complete, they could choose kitchen and bathroom fixtures and fittings, as well as the floor finish and the wall colors.

When Christina from sales had passed on the buyer choices to Trevor, she mentioned this house had been snapped up by a gay couple.

In fact, the whole estate was a popular investment for the pink pound. This amused Trevor greatly when he thought about the fact that plot 43 was destined as the future home of a local notorious homophobe, Liam Bottomley. The pompous bigot stood as an independent candidate in the last general election, taking the opportunity to air his foul, ignorant views. He got slated and gained less than two hundred votes. Still, almost two hundred too many.

Bottomley’s house didn’t have a roof on it yet.

Trevor only spent time with new homeowners if they had problems that needed rectifying and he hoped he’d never have to deal with Bottomley personally.

Trevor marched down to plot 17 and when he reached it, the door was open. Trevor stepped inside.

He could hear voices coming from the kitchen before he saw the men, Mike standing with a stranger.

Trevor didn’t recognize the other man, but guessed he was another plumber. There were loads of them on site; one plumber tended to look much the same as another, and Trevor usually dealt with Mike.

“We’ve an issue, Mike.”

Mike and the other man halted their conversation and looked at Trevor as if he were intruding.

“The first fix at plot 23, it’s gotta be finished today and there’s nothing going on there.” Trevor ignored the other guy.

“What time is it, Trevor?”

Trevor looked at his watch. “Almost nine fifteen.”

“That’s right, not even ten o’clock in the morning. We’ve got all day to finish. I know what I’m doing so you don’t need to be on my case. I’m well aware of the schedule.”

“This is Zack, by the way.” Mike turned toward the stranger. “And you can guess this is Trevor.”

The stranger stepped forward and held out a hand. This would have been perfectly normal if they were meeting in the pub or some other social setting, but Trevor wasn’t accustomed to introductions and shaking hands with every workman who turned up on site. He paid attention to Zack’s handsome face while shaking his hand.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Trevor. It’s good to meet you, at last. Put a face to the name.” Zack had charming dimples when he smiled and perfect white teeth. “I’ve just stopped by to take another look at our new home.”

Trevor looked from Zack to Mike in confusion. “I don’t get the joke. Every plumber on site claims this is his new home.”

Mike and Zack looked back at him with not a sign of laughter.

“No joke. I’m a carpenter, not a plumber,” said Zack. “And I’m not working on this site. I just stopped by on my way to work.”

There was something familiar about his brown eyes, clear complexion, and the dimples in his cheeks as he smiled. A handsome man, probably in his mid-to-late twenties. The kind of guy Trevor dreamed about and drooled over. The kind of guy he’d beat off to when watching—

Porn.

He was familiar but not as Zack.

Oh my God.

“They can claim what they like about this house. Crave it, and lust over it if they want to, but at the end of the day, it’s ours. We expect to move here in about eight weeks.” Mike moved closer to Zack and placed an arm across his shoulder.

We?

Zack and Mike?

Trevor’s jaw dropped as he looked at the couple in confusion. His gaze settling for too long  on the possessive arm around the carpenter’s shoulder. There could be no mistaking the nature of their relationship.

Zack was a sex God. What could he possibly see in Mike?

In contrast, Mike was more like a monster. He didn’t even have charisma. When he set off to work Mike must have left every endearing aspect of his personality in a box at home so it wouldn’t get lost.

It there was anything good to say about Mike, Trevor couldn’t think of it.

Sure, a fast, first-fix plumber like Mike made excellent bank. In that respect, Mike was a catch for a gold-digger with an eye on the money and a nice house.

But with his special skill set, as a porn star and a carpenter, Zack wouldn’t need Mike for money.

Then what?

Perhaps Mike had a mega donkey dong.

“It’s a nice place and you won’t have far to travel to work.”

Imagine that.

MIKE

They were close in age, mid-thirties, but Zack looked so much younger. Mike would tease him about the suntan cream and sun hats, but they paid off. Going by appearance alone, Zack appeared altogether out of Mike’s league, and they both knew it. No one ever guessed they were a couple, Zack and Mike. It didn’t bother Mike, who considered himself lucky.

“We’re married, Trevor. Zack’s my husband, so you don’t need to wonder about it. When we live here, together in this house, I daresay word will get around.”

Trevor looked more than a little surprised, with his mouth open and eyes ping-ponging between the husbands’ faces. “Okay, when did you get married?”

Mike squeezed Zack’s shoulder silently sending him unnecessary reassurance before he relaxed and drew back his arm.

“We’ve been together for more than a decade. We got married as soon as were allowed to. ” After only half answering the question, Zack wandered over to gaze out of the window. It was a sore point to both of them, the decades of experience of being second class citizens.

“Congratulations.” Trevor shifted from foot to foot and rubbed his hands together. He looked unprepared for this conversation.

“Thank you. There’s no need to look so shocked, Trevor. Gay couples can do that now, you know.”

Blatant homophobia wasn’t something Mike expected on any building site, not in this day and age. He didn’t go around declaring his sexuality, but for fuck’s sake, it wasn’t 1929. They were legally married, and he wouldn’t expect guys at work to make an issue out of it. And if they did, it would be illegal.

As Zach turned to look out of the window, Mike watched Trevor’s eyes sweep over his husband’s body, lingering on his ass.

Mike was used to other guys, and women, ogling his boyfriend—other men who were gay or bisexual.

As he watched Trevor closely, Mike realized the expressions that fleetingly passed over Trevor’s face weren’t homophobic disgust but a combination of wonderment and lust.

“Oh. Sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression. I’m not bothered that you got married in April 2014. I just can’t understand what he’d see in you, Mike. I mean, you, of all people. You’re hardly a catch.” Trevor didn’t even look at Mike as he spoke to him. He shamelessly drooled over Zack. And for one reason or another, the site foreman knew exactly when gay marriage became possible.

Mike smiled. If Trevor was ready to dish out the insults, then all was good between them. You expected blunt, straight-talking, abusive banter on a construction site. And abusive up to a point was fine. So long as it wasn’t personal, Mike could handle it.

As for the way he checked out Zack… “Talk to my face, Trevor, ‘cause my husband’s arse ain’t listening.”

Wait.

When Mike thought he saw recognition flash across the foreman’s face a few moments ago, he probably did.

Mike enjoyed the way other men, and women, turned to look twice at his incredible husband. He was proud of Zack’s film career, which earned an additional part-time income. It paid for extra luxuries. But mostly, Mike liked to see his man performing in porn. And didn’t mind for one minute that sometimes Zack was recognized by admirers.

Occasionally guys came up to them and said, “This will be embarrassing if I’m wrong, but aren’t you Cody Hardwood?” Zach would grin shyly and get a little embarrassed. Mike would beam with pride. Because any man with balls big enough to approach them like that had to have watched enough of Zack’s films to damn well recognize him and remember his name.

Cody Hardwood! Ha.

If it were real, he’d change it. But it was perfect for a carpenter who also spent a couple of days a month shooting porn.

So guys recognized Zack if they were admirers of his work.

Zack was a gay porn star and a showoff, which was fine with Mike, because for twelve years they’d come home to each other after work. There was no reason to believe they wouldn’t grow old together.

“Well, you two have got one of the best plots on the site. If I were buying here, this is one of the houses I would have been after,” Trevor said.

“Yeah, don’t we know it.”

Zack turned to join in the conversation. “When Mike first got the drawings for this site, we selected this house straight off, long before they were even marketing it.” He walked across the room toward the door.

“I’m not sure what your neighbors will be like around here,” Trevor said. “At least one homophobic dickhead is buying one of the houses we’re building right now.”

“Which one?”

“Which house? It’s in the cul-de-sac where we were just working. It’s not up to roof level yet. Or which dickhead? That would be Liam Bottomley.”

“Fuck, no! Not him as a neighbor.”

“Devalues your property already, doesn’t it,” Trevor chuckled.

“We should baptize his house with something nasty before he moves in.” Brainstorming out loud, Mike didn’t mean it; not really. Although he could think of a load of ways construction workers lay future misery for the house owner if they wanted to.

“You could make a film in there when the house is finished but before he moves in,” Trevor said. “A gay porn film just before the housing developer hands over the key.”

Mike smiled knowingly.

What put gay sex films on Trevor’s mind? That was the Zack effect that Mike was all too familiar with.

Zack had appeared to be on his way out of the door, but he turned around and looked at Trevor with a knowing and determined look on his face. “That’s a great idea, and I’ve got another. What about a series of films while the house is in progress. Each film would show sex in a new location in the house and document the building’s progress. A sexumentary or doc-sex-mentary. We’ll have to work out the right label.”

“We?” Mike raised his eyebrows, wondering exactly what Zack’s project entailed.

“You say the house has no roof at the moment. That lends itself to a topless theme to the film. Trevor has the site keys, so we can get access out of hours when no one is around. And to reduce the risk of being caught, early Sunday morning is the best time to film outdoors and in public places.”

“This Sunday?”

Trevor wouldn’t need to ask if he wasn’t up for the plan.

Zack nodded at them both. While his face beamed with amusement at the plan, his hand absentmindedly adjusted the crotch of his jeans, or what lay within.

Trevor winked. “Mike only knows me as the site agent. He doesn’t know me that well.”

“I’ve gotta get back to my job. I’m working on a site a few miles away. I’ll be coming to check progress on site on a regular basis, Trevor, so no slip-ups.” Zack winked at Trevor.

He was a one hundred and twenty percent dick tease.

TREVOR

It was too early Sunday morning, or was it still Saturday night? Trevor was certain he should still be asleep. His mind and body struggled, and he couldn’t yet get excited about what he was about to do.

Everybody in England should’ve been in bed. As it was mid-summer, the sun was already up and burning off the morning dew.

Trevor and Mike had arranged the finer details over the few days after Trevor first met Zack. The details being the exact time and place they’d meet.

Neither of them mentioned what they’d do when they got there. Making porn was implied but never explicitly stated. For that matter, Trevor had no idea what role he was expected to play. He was up for anything, or at least he hoped he would be UP for anything. He didn’t know whether he’d suffer from soft stuff in front of a camera, having never done that kind of sex performance before.

Mike and Zack were already at the construction site when Trevor arrived. They’d traveled together in Zack’s sign written van, which detailed his careers. It said ZK Carpentry along with a phone number and the tagline, “The best hand for your wood.”

That raised a smile.

Trevor parked, went over to the gate, and unlocked the padlock. It would’ve been easy to break in. Locks and fences didn’t deter criminals. The single padlock was to prevent innocent people and their dogs roaming onto the potentially dangerous building site.

Trevor heard van doors opening and closing behind him as he swung the gates open. He turned and saw Zack and Mike coming toward him carrying various bags and, strangely enough, a wooden carpenter’s stool. Trevor wasn’t about to ask about any of it.

None of them spoke. It seemed as if their voices would wake up the village at that time in the morning. They nodded silent greetings and Zack flashed one of those familiar dimpled, toothy grins.

Together they walked across to Liam Bottomley’s future home. At the moment, it was a bare shell constructed in gray block work and surrounded by scaffolding.

Zack looked up, pointed silently toward the sun, and walked over to where the property’s front door would one day be, which was where he placed his carpenter’s stool down, under the scaffold.

“We thought you’d hold the camera. Is that okay?” Mike asked.

Trevor nodded; he was hardly about to protest. He wasn’t going to confess he envisaged himself in a different role, and that it involved making his porn film debut with Cody Hardwood. The position he had in mind wasn’t cameraman, but behind Zack, all the way.

Whatever Trevor had to do to be a part of this, he’d do it. He was under no illusions about why the men invited him; he was only there because he had the keys to the site.

Since having time to reflect on things over the past few days, Trevor realized his initial reaction was harsh and unjustified. He regretted saying anything negative to Mike, even as a joke. The fact was, these guys were married. They were obviously in love. And it was tough enough being a gay man in construction: Trevor knew that.

Zack wanted to be with Mike, and after things were finished, they’d go home together.

Trevor felt privileged to be there having the most surreal experience of his life.

Mike yawned. “Let’s get on with this. Get it over with.”

“Is there any plan? A script?” Trevor’s first words emerged as a croaky whisper, cutting through the still morning air louder than he expected.

Zack swaggered over. “Yeah. We’ve got a plan.”

There was something so sexy about the guy. It wasn’t just his looks, although he’d certainly make an excellent two-dimensional calendar boy model. It was the way he moved. The slight bow to his legs. The way he looked confident and comfortable even when his jeans hung too low on his hips. The way he licked his lips, suggesting that in his mouth lay blow job heaven. And Trevor had no doubt it did, based on what he’d seen. He may have binge watched the man’s movies since meeting him.

“You’re gonna be behind the camera. I’ll start off on my own, and then Mike will join me.” Zack paused to watch Mike rummage in the holdall bag that he’d dumped on the ground.

Mike stood up and passed a small digital camera to Trevor.

“Film it any way you like. From any angle, any view, but try not to get Mike’s face in it. From behind him or below his shoulder level is fine We don’t want to have to pixelate his face later.”

“You don’t mind having your face on camera?” He couldn’t held commenting though it wasn’t for Trevor to question the men’s arrangement.

“I’m the porn star. Mike isn’t normally in front of the camera. Are you all right with all this Trevor?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ve just never done this before. I might make a hash of it. Make it look more like Blair Witch Project than…”

“It doesn’t matter. It will look amateur and that’s what we’re going for. People love the home movie look. And watching genuine couples,” added Mike, he twisted his wedding band. “Amateur porn is very popular. And it is amateur porn, after all, none of us are professionals.”

“If we’re all happy with the finished product, I’ll put it up as a free-to-view film on Cody’s website.” It was only a little weird to hear Zack talk about Cody as a third person. Zack wasn’t Cody, of course—that was just a character.

MIKE

When Zack peeled his sweatshirt over his head and passed it to Mike, he, in turn, handed over a tool belt and a hard hat. Of course, the symbols of a construction worker. The viewers would be in no doubt about the setup of the scene.

“Trevor, you need to zoom out and get the whole house in, complete with scaffolding, so as to set the scene. If ever Bottomley watches this clip, he probably wouldn’t recognize that it’s his house; it’s too early in construction.” Zack went over and took up position under the scaffold.

“Lights, camera, action,” Mike whispered to Trevor. He pointed out the on, play, and pause buttons as well as the zoom. Simple stuff. Point and play.

Trevor pointed and Zack played, running his hands over his stomach and chest while gazing seductively into the camera lens. The way his hands moved emphasized everything that was good about him. The muscles of his shoulders, chest, and stomach.

The temptation of what lay further was below the waistband of his jeans, just visible above the tool belt hanging low on his hips. Everything suggestive and nothing quite pornographic. Not, yet.

People with money show off with flash cars and big houses. Men like to flaunt what they’ve got. Mike was no exception. He was proud to have a red-hot lover and had no problem showing him off.

Zack was always an enthusiastic exhibitionist and what some people called promiscuous. When Zack and Mike got together, it was something they had in common. Far from causing jealous friction in their relationship, having other people involved in their sex life simply added to the fun.

They’d been living together for several years before a casual fuck buddy invited them to make professional porn. As a couple of fully employed, City and Guilds qualified tradesmen, they didn’t need the money, but went into it for fun. Not that they were going to turn down the extra income.

Because in general, Zack didn’t do it for the money. Mike had been at almost every single porn shoot. There were just a couple he’d missed due to unfortunate circumstances.

Like many guys, Zack had a list of things he didn’t do. He didn’t do bareback, for example—why the hell would he? Why was that even a thing some people expected in porn?

He didn’t perform with straight guys. Not anymore.

If Zack was going to perform sex in private or for the camera, it had to be fun. And that meant only with other guys who were into it. Gay or bisexual men only.

A couple of times in the beginning, when he was new and naive to the industry, Zack had scenes with straight guys. That went down in a list of things never to do again, learned through unpleasant experience.

The final product looked sexy when carefully edited. But straight guys aren’t into men, by definition. There was a whole load of things that had to happen in the background to keep the straight guy ready for his gay-for-pay acting stunt. Straight porn in the background for example. A running reminder that the straight guys were straight at every opportunity. When they were the only men genuinely in to other guys on the set, the experience felt degrading, and wasn’t something this couple cared to repeat or remember.

Zack was happy to work with some guys who had girlfriends, so long as they were bisexual. And, having met the girlfriends too, Mike knew they were enthusiastic about watching their boyfriends with other men just as much as Mike liked watching Zack perform.

Less than a minute in, and Zack peeled off his tool belt.

With a soft thud, it landed on the floor. It’d served its purpose, setting the scene of a construction worker.

His cock clearly strained against the denim as if those jeans had been molded on to a man with a big tool in his pants. The length and girth appeared truly impressive. Anyone who’d seen any of Cody’s films would know there wasn’t just padding in there.

Not hanging about, nor taking it slow with the risk of them being caught, Zack undid his jeans, opened them up, and pulled it out—the mouthwatering erection. Mike would never tire of it. His mouth went dry, and he licked his lips. A considerable volume of blood rushed to his cock as he watched.

Mike hoped Trevor was zooming in for a close-up on that big dick.

TREVOR

The scene was appealing; Trevor was unsure where to focus. He loved the shirtless construction worker look. It worked well against the building site backdrop. The safety hard hat and steel-toed boots, along with come-to-bed eyes and a cute smile.

He’d have liked to suck on those hairless nuts that Zack put out on display at the same time as he pulled out his dick without pushing down his jeans.

Trevor wondered how to get the best footage. Should he move about or did the zoom feature work best? It would be too corny to zoom in on Zack’s dick so soon. Trevor had to remember that Zack and Mike would watch this later and would know exactly what Trevor was thinking by how he’d focused the camera.

They only had to take one look at him to have a good idea of how he was feeling. He’d gone from tired and weirded-out to well turned on and hard enough to fuck in just a few minutes.

There was no hiding how much that carpenter turned him on. Why try to hide it? It was a natural reaction.

“You want to see more of this?” Zack asked.

He spoke directly into the camera. Ever since he’d taken to his stage, Zack had flashed the most flirtatious and seductive looks in his direction.

Trevor hoped he wasn’t expected to respond. His heart pounded a little harder in his chest at the thought of seeing more.

“Yeah, show me that fuckin’ dick, babe,” Mike replied for the entire audience, the two men present, and whoever might view the film in the future.

The men exchanged a few comments about jerking off and fucking, and Trevor wondered what exactly they had in mind.

Zack turned and shook his ass provocatively at the camera and then pushed down his jeans to almost his ankles, resting above his boots.

Remaining bent over, he put both hands on his cheeks and pulled them apart invitingly. Trevor moved close and zoomed in. The online audience would thank him for it. Every man watching would want to imagine Zack offering up his ass in front of them. And getting up close with their fingers, tongues, and, of course, cocks.

“Have you got anything useful in that tool belt?” Mike asked.

Zack pulled out a small, white tube of lube; Trevor would bet there weren’t many carpenters who were so well equipped when on site.

Trevor had seen Zack’s films before, so what happened next should have come as no surprise. With a little lube, Zack fingered his hole in preparation for Mike to join him.

Only now did it occur to Trevor that perhaps this couple had already had sex this evening. Perhaps they’d made love before setting off for the site. Or perhaps they did something in the van. The action was moving along at a swift pace, and maybe this was just the centerpiece of some much lengthier sex game this couple played.

Holding onto the carpenter’s bench with his right hand, he used the fingers of his left in an apparently well-practiced endeavor to lube the area and give himself pleasure.

Trevor clenched his cheeks. He wouldn’t mind Zack giving him some of that treatment.

As much to distract his thoughts, Trevor moved to the side of Zack. His face was hidden, pushed into his arm. If there was any doubt about whether this was an act or something Zack liked, the evidence from this angle suggested he loved it. His hard cock hung freely and streamed with glistening precum.

“I think he wants you to fuck him.” Fuck it! Trevor hadn’t intended to say anything out loud; it was a private thought.

No one spoke. Zack acted as if he hadn’t heard, and Mike said nothing. Perhaps that could be cut from the final version.

A minute later, behind Zack, Mike stepped into the picture. His white T-shirt was pulled up to display his hairy, flat stomach. Mike undid his jeans and pushed them down over his hips. His proud erection was as impressive as that of his husband.

Not used to thinking of Mike having outstanding attributes, Trevor would have to rethink his attitude toward plumbers.

He concentrated on keeping Mike’s face out of view as he moved closer to the couple and returned to a location that would give him a clear view of Zack’s ass. If Mike was going to fuck Zack like this, he wanted to get that clearly on film.

Trevor swallowed hard as he watched.

Mike had hold of his dick and rubbed it up and down Zack’s ass, as if making an introduction, before easing it in. Emphasis on ease. Mike entered Zack with ease. And Trevor could imagine his own cock going in there.

How good that must feel.

Tight, hot, bloody amazing.

Mike was all in and staying still.

And the noises Zack made, the heavy breathing and moans of pleasure seemed real. The sounds would’ve been enough to make Trevor come if he were alone.

Trevor stepped back. He feared he was intruding. He moved so that Zack’s cock was again within view. Zack had repositioned his free hand to hold his dick. “Fuck me now,” he whimpered.

“Wow, you two are so hot together. No wonder you’re married.” The thoughts turned into words and just fell out of Trevor’s mouth.

The lovers paid no attention. Picking up a pace, Mike focused on Zack who in turn appeared too well fucked to care about anything else

When he started, Trevor kept on talking. “I love watching the way he’s pounding your ass. You’re both lucky guys.” Trevor had held back, but his British reserve was swept away. He didn’t think about what he was saying; he just spoke. “Mike, would you let me have a go when you’ve finished?”

Mike stopped thrusting, looked over, and flipped a solitary finger.

That was a no, then.

“No way, José. You can watch, but no touching the goods.” Zack called out. The husbands were of one mind on this issue apparently. Shame.

ZACK

Zack loved fucking and being fucked and just about everything you could do with a guy to get off, or better yet, with a bunch of guys. Yes to all of that stuff.

Nothing compared, however, to intimacy with his husband. Whether they were alone or with other people, once they touched each other, nothing else would do. No one wanted salad after chocolate dessert.

The fucking recommenced.

Sex with Mike wasn’t just something that felt good like it did with other guys. Somehow Mike reached right deep inside him and yanked at his heart. It was such a strong emotional connection that Zack sometimes laughed or cried. He didn’t want to share such emotional intimacy with strangers via the camera lens.

Zack was close to coming.

“Out,” he whispered. Mike would know. It could mean Zack wanted it out, of course, but Mike would know Zack was too close and didn’t want to come like this.

Mike pulled out. “I’m gonna come.”

While the wet splatter of cum fell on his back and arse, Zack held onto his dick and held back everything that threatened to spill over, emotional as well as physical.

A few seconds later, Mike helped him to stand up, and as one, they backed up.

Zack leaned against Mike, with all the wet, sticky stuff still coating him and gluing them together. Mike leaned against the wall of Bottomley’s future home.

Remembering his audience, Zack jerked his dick with slow, firm, determined moves, enjoying the feeling of Mike’s strong presence behind him, his warm breath on the side of his face and his hands on his waist. With his husband at the forefront of his mind and a sharp intake of breath, Zack erupted. The message to Liam Bottomley spurted out like a fountain, landing in front of the house.

The couple stayed still for a few seconds, and then Zack felt Mike push him forward a little and move him around. Fucking with jeans around ankles could be erotic until it came to changing positions. Nevertheless, reeling with post orgasmic euphoria and in need of a shower, Zack was pleased to find himself standing face to face with his man. He almost forgot they were being watched and filmed.

Their lips brushed together.

“I love you,” Mike said, and a little louder, he added, “Trevor, you can put the camera down.”

Zack thought about a series of films they could make, films starring him and his husband. They could be made in every room of the house while it was under construction. Every one of which could be posted on his website.

With their lips still touching, Zack replied, “I love you too. The three of us could make this a regular Sunday morning thing until bigot Bottomley moves in.”

This short story was previously published in a collection.

This is the story of the making of the porn film that is watched by Connor in Our Secret Christmas, the second book in the Sky High Scaffolders series.

By H J Perry:

The Sky High Scaffolds Series:

  1. Our Secret Wedding
  2. Our Secret Christmas
  3. Tread the Boards
  4. A Secret Boyfriend
  5. Friends With Benefits
  6. The Glass Ceiling

Free Lesbian Romance

Hestia is the first in my sex-filled, lesbian romance trilogy Sapphic Soulmates, and it’s now FREE at many ebookstores.

These three books are feel-good fast reads and they are not in KU you can get them at most e book retailers: Amazon, iTunes, Nook, etc… The links and blurbs are below:

 

HESTIA by Helen Jayne

At Amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079BPSH45

At other stores: https://www.books2read.com/u/bMQ22a

Suppose you were seduced by an immortal Goddess today. And discover she has devoted herself faithfully to you for centuries, but you don’t remember past life details. What would you do?
Eighteen-year-old Lauren has survived school in her small town, just about. She’s never had a girlfriend, and she doesn’t have a life plan. She does have the devotion of an immortal Goddess.
Hestia might well be the first of the Olympian gods, but her job has been to keep the home fires burning, which means she doesn’t get out much. She doesn’t mind staying in, but it wasn’t the same when her soulmate went missing for hundreds of years.
When they reunite, their passion and desire are enough to light more fires. They can’t keep their hand off each other. Watch out for ebooks melting because of the heat and undergarments bursting into flames.
Hestia is a sizzling fantasy romance. It features lovers reunited, with a happy ever after.

***44,000 words***

CORBY (book 2) by Helen Jayne

At Amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079Q4TDY5

At other stores: https://www.books2read.com/u/3L05L1

In her dreams, Corby has no inhibitions. When she meets the woman of her dreams, she has the confidence to do all those things and more.
Corby is not afraid of taking risks, but to give up everything for a new life in a strange land all for the love of a woman may be a step too far.

Blessed by the ancient gods of Olympus, Vick is the raven princess.
Her people, the Corax, have a long history and many traditions. They also have huge black wings for when they need to fly.
Vick didn’t expect to find love through a chance encounter, but she can’t argue with the pull toward her soulmate.

Corby is a sizzling lesbian fantasy romance for adult readers. There is no cheating. No one dies. There are plenty of cute women, and there is a happy ending.

AEGLE (book 3) by Helen Jayne

At Amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079YSZ8SY

At other stores: https://www.books2read.com/u/md0YAZ

A sizzling enemies to lovers lesbian romance.
Jade is a flirt. She can’t help it. She doesn’t even realize she’s doing it most of the time. Eventually, she’d like to find her soulmate, but right now she’s young and still in college.

Cocky and sure of herself. Angie is hot, sexy, rich, and ten years older. She’s an arrogant landowner who won’t listen to reason or crazy arguments about protecting the forest.

Development around the small town of Beaumont threatens the woods with destruction. Jade knows the danger in the forest. It’s all too easy for someone to slip through to another dimension and disappear from our world completely.

When Jade tries to bargain with Angie, things go very wrong.

Both women find out more about ancient Olympia than they bargained for

Aegle is a Sizzling HOT steamy erotic F/F lesfic fantasy with a happy ending and no cheating and no cliffhanger.

It is book three in the Sapphic Soulmates series featuring powerful women and the ladies who love them.

Aegle can be read as a standalone but will make more sense if read after the other two books as there is a continuing story.

*** 45,000 words. ***

All books in the series are OTT, sexy, romantic fantasies so be prepared with fresh underwear.

Jade and her best friend Lauren appear in all three books.
Book 1: Hestia
Book 2: Corby
Book 3: Aegle

HIV in gay romance & gay fiction

Creating art is hard work.
Artists should be paid not expected to work for free.
In The Glass Ceiling, Chris is an artist.
Despite HIV blocking an early career opportunity, he went on to achieve great success as an artist.
People bought his original art, and other people bought the reproductions.


Note: *Reproducing the same art in various formats is a standard and vital extra revenue stream for many professional artists who need to make a living.

It was harder for Chris to find love, however. Too many men held irrational fears about dating a guy with HIV and most didn’t seem to know U=U.

“Undetectable = untransmittable”
people living with HIV who are on antiretroviral therapy and are undetectable cannot infect others.


When Chris finally finds love, his new boyfriend comes up with an ingenious way to create an extra novel revenue stream linked to the original artwork.

The Glass Ceiling is the latest book in the SHS series.
NB: The two main characters have appeared in previous books, and this is best read as part of the series.

* Some people think I shouldn’t charge money for this novel because I’m “exploiting” people with HIV. They think diverse characters such as those with HIV should be excluded from romance stories.
However, I write about people living in the real world that I know, here in southern England.

In real life many people are HIV+. There are plenty of men in south-east England who are just like the fictional characters in my books.
I love to see diverse characters in gay romance.

Scroll down for Q & A.


The SHS series in KU on Amazon, right here, for now, but not forever.

compressed TheGlassCeiling (2)

How did Chris become HIV+?

That’s not relevant to this story so we don’t know. We meet Chris when he’s at a very good place in his life. And finding out he’s HIV+ and adjusting to taking daily medication is all part of his history and not the current story.

So why write him as HIV+ at all?

I’ve created a world of British gay men in SHS. they reflect the men here in the real world, many of whom are living with HIV. They are a part of the real world and should be in stories.

What are the important messages in this book?

  1. Artists create art because they love to make art. But it it is their career, to pay the bills, they approach their art as a business.
  2. People are living with HIV. Emphasis on the word LIVING. Enjoying life to the full not living lives of tragedy.
  3. U = U.
  4. Couples need to talk and LISTEN.

 

 

 

Some characters in Gay romance are demisexual

Rescued from Paradise has a demisexual gay character. He feels sexual attract only after forming an emotional bond.

 

rescuedfromparadise Compressed

Two hot men. One deserted tropical island.

Mr. Don’t-Touch-Me Wade O’Rourke has never allowed anyone to get close to his heart, or into his bed. Perhaps he’s not wired that way. He’s not gay. He was brought up to know it’s not possible in his family. But he’s not attracted to women either. He keeps up appearances for the sake of his family because it’s the thing to do— never mind his family traumas or that he hates his life. And he has reasons to hate his homophobic uncle, too.

Outgoing, optimistic, and carefree Adam Bennet comes from a long line of earthy people— gardeners and farmers. After his parents died, he was raised by his wise grandmother. He helps her run her shop.

When Wade and Adam meet on an airplane, they don’t quite hit it off. They survive a crash landing on an island paradise where they have to join forces to survive. Will Adam take a chance on love with the seemingly straight man? When love blossoms, can it survive the rescue and return to their American small town?

This full-length, standalone novel contains: Two hot guys and a deserted island. A man damaged by his homophobic upbringing. A virgin who never thought he’d want to be touched that way. Coming out in a small town. Steamy man on man love action and a happy ending. ***58,000 words.

Buy from Amazon.com

Buy from other retailers here.

 

Euro Pride Con for readers & authors of LGBT lit 2018

It’s less than a week away. I’m almost packed and ready and I’ll be travelling Wednesday morning. My teenager is coming as well so they will have 6 days of exploring Amsterdam.

I will be doing a ten-minute reading slot on Sunday morning, which begs the question: how long should my passage be?

mind out of the gutter!

How many words can I read out loud to an audience in 10 minutes?

I only had to refer to my past notes on reading aloud to an audience, on this very blog:

https://helenjperry.wordpress.com/2015/05/

When reading to an audience the pace should be 160 words per minute. Sure you can read faster. But do you want the listeners to be able to hear, understand and enjoy it?

Now, I’m off to find a passage of 1500 words.

There are a couple of other things I find useful:

Print it out in really big font.

Re-edit it for just reading – showing me where to take a breath – which might not be evident in the natural punctuation.

I will almost certainly read a funny passage from one of these two books:

Mestra, Erysichthon’s daughter: Inspired Erotica

The ancient Greek Gods were regularly turning people into bird and animals. Sometimes it was as punishment and permanent. Sometimes it was to help the people do something that they could do better in animal form.

I imagine people who found gods interfering in their lives and turning people into animals were a bit miffed about the whole thing.

In the case of Mestra, the daughter of Erysichthon of Thessaly, she was given the ability to shapeshift as a gift from her godly lover. What a present! That would be hard to beat.

Her father was cursed. He was forever hungry and couldn’t stop eating. To buy more food, he saw the opportunity to sell Mestra over and over (promise her as a bride and receive payment, whatever). She had to turn into a bird and fly away from each one of her new men/owners.

Mestra’s story is one of many like it that were at the back of my mind when I wrote the Sons of Olympus Trilogy (especially bk 1, Ravens).

And

I have paired up with the Queen of historical erotic, Chera Zade to write some short stories inspired by stories like this one. We have ideas for 3 short stories documenting what might have happened to Mestra, only one is complete and published ready for you to read:

Mestra’s Many Men by Helen J Perry & Chera Zade

is a short erotica story of one woman and five friendly men! There is an excerpt and blurb after the cover photo:

600 900 Mestras Many Men Chera Zade

Mestra’s Many MEN MFMMMM erotica:

Mestra’s first and only lover was the God of the sea, Poseidon. He had given her a rare and magical gift, the ability to transform into a bird or animal at will.
Her cursed father, Erysichthon of Thessaly exploited his talented daughter, by selling her several times over. Once he had payment, she would change her form and fly away free.
Mestra’s Many Men imagines what happens to the lady when she ran away from her father and fell into the hands of one of the men she had previously tricked.

He is not alone but has four other men with him. And what’s more, by the good fortune of Tyche, they are all naked.
Erysichthon’s daughter is confident her magical ability will get her out of any unpleasant situation, but this time she doesn’t want to leave. She craves more of the intimate attention that these men bestow on her.

Mestra’s Many Men is historical erotica set in ancient Greece. Approximately 8,000 words. It features group MFMM scenes. All characters are consenting adults over the age of 21.

This book is for mature readers.

As a woman gifted with the ability to shift to animal form, perhaps I was more animal than I realized

Like a wild creature, I remained on my hands and knees while Theo, behind me, coated me with his essence. And my animalistic instinct liked it.

Their action felt ritualistic as if they had claimed me and marked me for their own.

All of them.

Mestra’s Many Men

1

Erastus  

Who’s swimming with me?” Adras asked as he led the way into the water.

The man swam like a fish and took every opportunity to dive into water wherever he went. We’d sometimes joke that Poseidon protected his family. They had a history of being great fishermen who brought in the biggest catch, and their boats survived every storm.

Already naked, I followed him into the running water. “I don’t want to swim; I’m just going to soak,” I replied. The slow-moving water was pleasantly warm as it lapped around my ankles and calves.

On the stony beach, our three companions were still stripping out of their clothes.

I waded out eager to submerge my dirty, sweaty body, and I didn’t flinch when it tickled the sensitive area at the top of my thighs. “Ah. That’s good,” I said to no one in particular. The other men were all engaged in doing their own thing.

Laughter and splashes soon followed. Theo tore past me heading for the deepest cut of water. Moments later, he dove beneath the water and reappeared behind Adras. There was always fierce but friendly competition between the two brothers.

A glance toward the shore confirmed the other two men were staying aloft in the ankle-deep waters.

Bending my knees, I sank down, letting the swirling water wash over me. Submerged in the river, I scrubbed away the remaining dirty that lingered on my skin. And silently I prayed to the gods to rinse away my troubles too.

By rights, I should be a few days married now with a wife to share my life, my stresses, and my joys.

Alas, the beautiful lady went missing only days ago, shortly before the wedding night, leaving me bewildered and humiliated. No one saw her leave. We searched within the city walls but did not find her.

To this day, I do not know whether Mestra ran away of her own free will or was kidnapped.

Breaking back through the surface of the water my thoughts returned to my companions. Two men swam but the other two splashed about in the shallowest water.

What’s the matter? Can’t you swim? Afraid of the potamoi?” I called back at them.  

I’ve no reason to fear the river gods.” Philippos looked all around, nervously. “It’s what’s on dry land that concerns me. I feel like we’re being watched. And I’m a lot happier staying at the edge so whoever is hiding out of sight can’t sneak off with my clothes.”

I have the same feeling.” Bending down, Grēgorios cupped his hands together to form a bowl with which to scoop up water, he released it over his chest. “If we’re not alone, I can manage without clothes, but I don’t want to be at the wrong end of my weapons.”

While I could hold my own in a fair fight, whatever menace the journey held, we couldn’t be safer than traveling with Grēgorios. He was one of our cities champion warriors who had trained with the Spartans. Fearless and skillful, he was the master of all weapon.

It’s settled then, you two are on guard duty.” Momentarily, I sank again beneath the water. The memories of my lady weren’t swimming away with the fish, so I heaved myself up to seek distraction among the men.

As I cut through the water to the self-appointed lookouts, I eyed the shore and asked, “Did you see anything to give rise to your concern?”

Grēgorios shook his head. “No. Nothing moves.”

Once again Philippos scanned the horizon, turning full circle as he did so. Level headed Philippos was my own older brother. As siblings, we were doubly unfortunate in love. Facing me, he said, “There might be a god or goddess, waiting for us, just out of sight.”

2

Mestra

Stepping sideways, I inched closer to the trunk of the tree where I was confident the thick, sturdy timber would hold me.

The journey along the branch proceeded slowly. All the while, my gaze remained fixed firmly on the naked young men bathing in the brook. As they washed themselves clean, I studied every unblemished detail of their fine, muscular bodies and I thanked the gods for my eagle-eyed sight.

As two of them swam, three men splashed about in shallow water, where the river was only knee-deep. Droplets fell from their heads and rolled over their broad shoulders. The glistening beads of water trickled downward until they were caught up decorating body hair.

The man with his broad shouldered-back toward me stooped  splashing water over his torso,

I was helpless. I could only stare at the magnificent view not only of his firm rear thrust out behind him but the man in front of him who’d previously been obstructed.

He was a slender young man, but most definitely a man and not a boy. Even though it was flaccid, his cock nestled among dark curls looked thick and long.

Continue reading: Mestra’s Many Men At Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07DQJRRBG

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ancient greek Goddesses and modern girls

Sapphic Soulmates trilogy by Helen Jayne is my first attempt at blending the ancient Greek mythology in a modern setting. And my first attempt at writing longer lesbian fiction #lesfic.

Essentially, the Sapphic Soulmate trilogy is New Adult Lesbian erotic romance. They are light fun reads and long for novellas, but short for novels. Each book would take me between 3 to 4 hours to read, I’m an average speed reader.

From the start, when thinking about this set of stories I thought the main human character in each story could be male or female and pair up with a magical/god-type character of either gender. I decided to write the story twice over, which was an interesting exercise for me, but I don’t recommend you read both versions because it can be anticlimactic when you know the actual story.

The gay male version has an ancient British/Celtic theme whereas I took ancient Greek mythology to flavour the lesfic version.

I absolutely love the covers for these books, though I say so myself. And I want to write more, so we get more covers!

Here’s more about book 1 in the series: HESTIA by Helen Jayne  myBook.to/Hestia

About:

A lesbian fantasy romance.

Suppose you were seduced by an immortal Goddess today. And discover she has devoted herself faithfully to you for centuries, but you don’t remember past life details. What would you do?

Eighteen-year-old Lauren has survived school in her small town, just about. She’s never had a girlfriend, and she doesn’t have a life plan. She does have the devotion of an immortal Goddess.

Hestia might well be the first of the Olympian gods, but her job has been to keep the home fires burning, which means she doesn’t get out much. She doesn’t mind staying in, but it wasn’t the same when her soulmate went missing for hundreds of years.

When they reunite, their passion and desire are enough to light more fires. They can’t keep their hand off each other. Watch out for kindles melting in the heat and undergarments bursting into flames.

Hestia is a sizzling fantasy romance. It features lovers reunited, with a happy ever after.

Prologue

So comes a time that we should part.” The dreaded words, recited many times over the centuries, were still no easier to say.

In the center of the room, the fire crackled and the heat radiated against her skin as she lay in the midst of the warm furs. It made no difference. She heard the words leave her mouth and take on their own chilling independent form. Her insides turned cold.

Fear not, I shall be in your heart.”

The sincere reply acted as small comfort to Hestia.

They didn’t need words—not really.

One woman sworn to the other. Bound in a love that endured and grew over centuries of companionship and commitment.

This parting, like all the others, would be only temporary. As brief as the blink of an eye compared to years of immortality.

With her lover absent, for Hestia it meant loneliness, coldness, and pain, even if it was only temporary. Endless time stretching both ahead and behind didn’t make it any easier to say farewell, though. It was never easy, and she always worried.

Immortality did not make things any less painful but simply made that pain repeat over endless time.

More than you know, my dearest. “You will always be in my heart, my love.” Holding off for just a few more minutes together, she uttered the words slowly, as if dragging them from the very depths of her aching heart, where she already felt the void of her lover’s impending absence. You can never know how greatly my heart and soul yearn for you.

Ready to leave their Olympian dwelling and walk once again in the world of Man, Hestia’s lover approached the doorway.

Before pushing it open and stepping over the threshold, she glanced back over her shoulder. “And I carry you in mine. I will carry your gifts with me; they remind me of you. And know that you are never far from my thoughts.”

She lingered near the doorway as if there were more to say. Proud and tall, she wore clothes suitable for the world of Mankind but carried the first gifts ever given. The pouch, which was strapped to her chest and hung at her side. She wore the cloak, too—the mantle from their world. At least she’d have the cloak with her, even though she refused to take one of the dogs.

Loyal and brave, a dog would protect her from Mankind, but she refused to take one.

Two of their dogs lounged at the foot of the bed where they always slept. Four curled up near the mud-brick walls, a mass of fur, away from the heat of the central hearth. All the dogs ignored the painful goodbye taking place in the room.

A parting like the last one, every time marked by the same, heartfelt words.

Chapter One

Standing in the auditorium wing, eighteen-year-old Lauren Upsdell faced the biggest day of her life. Well, at least the biggest day so far.

She picked at the hem of her bottle-blue graduation robe nervously, working a loose thread between her fingers. The graduation cap she wore felt a little too tight, and it prickled her scalp. Both made of rich wool, the cap and gown were too hot for the final semester of her school life.

The urge to scratch grew stronger, but Lauren ignored it as best she could and rolled the thread against her thumb. A little discomfort meant nothing compared to a future lifetime of freedom away from this place.

Gazing down the line of students, each one a familiar face to Lauren, she felt as apprehensive as any of them. Everyone stood waiting in line for their turn to collect their certificate to thunderous applause. There were a little over sixty kids, and at one point or another, she’d been in class with every one of them.

Stacy Hart checked her reflection in a compact mirror and fingered a curl behind her ear, then winked at herself and tucked the mirror back in her pocket. Patrick Medes elbowed his best friend, Stuart Mendez, as the line advanced. Even shy, introverted Erin Weston had come out of her shell for the occasion, but still not wanting to attract attention, she tried to make herself as small as possible. She stood just behind Lauren.

As the line advanced, Lauren stepped forward with it and stared at the space between Odelia’s shoulder blades.

Only Jade Lidl, Lauren’s best friend in her graduation class, missed the ceremony.

Rolling the thread a little more nervously, Lauren stole another glance in the direction of Odelia Stevens. By virtue of their last names, they stood close together in the line, with only a few people between them.

Thankfully, so far, Odelia hadn’t seemed to notice Lauren’s presence. Odelia was leader of the popular girls, in a world where popular is defined as rich, shallow, and mean. She and her friends had made Lauren’s life hell since she’d come to Beaumont in her freshman year, following the tragic death of her parents.

Graduating meant that Lauren would never have to see them again. The end of school brought the end of shared lunches, a welcome end to forced group projects, and the relief of no more embarrassing hallway incidents.

Lauren wouldn’t miss any of it.

Odelia glanced over her shoulder and directly at Lauren, undoubtedly feeling the eyes burning into her back. Lauren stifled a gasp and looked away, too late. The line had come to a stop again, and with so many other students still waiting to walk onto the stage, Lauren couldn’t escape.

As Odelia cut the line, heading for her, Lauren shrank back and bumped into Erin, who whimpered and scrambled until she backed up against the wall. Lauren couldn’t draw her into this. With nowhere left to go, she had to stand her ground.

She’d lowered her head, hoping that Erin’s technique of shrinking away might save her.

It didn’t.

The shiny polished toes of Odelia’s shoes appeared in Lauren’s line of sight.

Well, well, well, look who we have here,” Odelia mused. The familiar sneer on her face. “The Pipsqueak herself, looking sharp tonight. Did you save all your lunch money to buy those shoes, or did someone take pity on you and buy them for you?”

I bought them myself.” Lauren looked back down at her standard black shoes. “I worked odd hours at the grocery store this semester to make sure I had enough spare cash.” She didn’t owe Odelia an explanation; nerves pushed it out of her mouth nonetheless.

You’re kidding me,” Odelia said with a laugh. She stepped forward, shrinking the space between them. Lauren couldn’t bring herself to look up, but she knew she couldn’t keep backing up, either. Not with Erin and the wall there. “Who would hire the Almighty Uptight-Underbite? Seems like a waste of money to me. Too small and weak to haul things off a truck, and too ugly to put on the cash. What did they have you do? Clean the bathrooms?”

I stocked shelves,” Lauren mumbled and wondered why she was offering an answer.

If the brunt of Odelia’s attacks tonight were verbal jabs, Lauren could endure. Sometimes, the aggression of Odelia and her friends turned physical. Lauren could brush off their hateful words, but she had difficulty handling it when they hit out.

I bet. You know all about fitting things in tight spaces, don’t you?” Odelia sneered.

Lauren cringed. Didn’t know for sure what Odelia referred to and had no intention of asking, thereby extending this conversation any longer than necessary.

It could have been a jab at her sexuality. Although Odelia and her tribe had previously mocked her for being “a lesbo”, as far as she knew, they had no idea of the truth of it. They didn’t often tease her about being gay—Lauren wasn’t exactly out about it, and her nonexistent sex life meant there wasn’t much to tell.

Crammed into lockers, stuffed into toilets, rolled up tight in yoga mats…” Odelia continued, dragged the painful confrontation out further. “They’re all the things you’re good at.”

Lauren said nothing, but she recalled every one of those incidents.

I wonder if it isn’t your true calling in life.”

It wasn’t; Lauren knew this for certain.

All her life she felt she had a vocational calling, a destiny to do good or even great things for the world. She just hadn’t discovered what those great things were, not exactly.

She wanted more and hoped to go to college. Or at least, she thought college would take her further along her path to whatever she was eventually going to do. But to study what? She didn’t know.

For now, without the resources to fund herself, Lauren had struck college temporarily from her list of immediate options in life. Her Aunt Lori and Uncle Joe couldn’t afford to send her on their own dime—but one day she hoped to find a way.

She hoped to discover more to life than high school bullying and dead-end, minimum-wage jobs. She would go out there and do something great.

Odelia clapped her hand against Lauren’s chest and pushed her back.

Erin gasped. Her heels clicked as she scurried sidewards, away from the fight.

Upsdell, Uptight, Underbite, Underdog. You’re always going to be under someone, aren’t you, Pipsqueak?”

No,” Lauren whispered.

What did you say?” Odelia demanded.

Lauren pursed her lips. She didn’t repeat herself.

I thought so,” Odelia said. She grabbed Lauren by the front of her robes and yanked her forward. “Not even your parents could stand being around you; you know that? They’re probably the only people you’re going to stand over, and that’s only because they’re ten feet underground.” Odelia released Lauren’s robe and stepped back.

Odelia!” Mrs. Truman, the history teacher, scolded. “Get back into line! We’re moving. Come on!”

Odelia shot Lauren a look that promised it wasn’t over, and Lauren let her shoulders drop and did her best not to engage Odelia again. The tiniest things set her off, it seemed. Lauren looked forward to the day she wouldn’t have to worry about looking in the wrong direction, or wearing the wrong thing, or saying something that got on Odelia’s nerves.

And that day would be tomorrow, she realized with a smile. Graduation one day meant freedom the next. Freedom from school at least.

She might still run into Odelia and her gang in the streets of their small town. Eventually, Lauren would find a way to leave Beaumont altogether, and with it, every moment of anguish she’d endured in it.

And maybe she’d fall in love in the process.

She wanted a girlfriend so badly.

At eighteen, she’d never so much as held hands with a girl, not in a romantic way. And certainly never wanted a boyfriend. She’d still not shared her first kiss.

Other couples paraded around the school and in the community, and she longed for the same, to do those things with someone special. Over the past few years, her hormones had gone into overdrive. She longed for romance and physical contact with her one true love.

Just as she knew there must be a vocation for her, Lauren also knew that out there somewhere her true soulmate waited for her. She just knew it.

Beaumont wasn’t exactly a haven for nontraditional relationships, and Lauren didn’t dare harbor crushes, let alone allow herself look for love, in such a tight-knit community.

Already the new kid, the impoverished orphan who came to live with her relatives while her life fell apart, Lauren didn’t want to draw herself into the spotlight any further. She didn’t need any other rumors spread about her. She only wanted to blend into the community. To be forgotten and ignored would’ve been perfect.

Lauren shifted her jaw, running a hand along it to try to assure herself that she didn’t have an underbite. Odelia strolled across the stage to accept her diploma and pose with the principal for pictures, leaving just a short wait for Lauren’s turn, followed by freedom.

Sometimes, bullying made it hard for Lauren to remember her jaw issue had been fixed in middle school. She’d been retainer-free for years, underbite a thing of the past. Social media didn’t forget, though, and the bullies at school had seen her old photos.

Lauren. Pipsqueak. Almighty Underbite.

She supposed, at least, they were more inventive than Loser.

From the stage, she heard Gregory Tullen’s name announced, and Mr. Alcorn, the math teacher, ushered the boy through the auditorium wing and across the stage. Lauren stepped up, looking out through the wing and across the audience. Principal Kendrick stood with Vice Principal Dunn as Gregory made his way across the stage. There were only a few diplomas left, the graduation ceremony almost over.

Mr. Alcorn returned to the wing of the stage and recited the speech that Lauren had heard given to every young person before her. “When they announce your name, you’ll cross the stage and shake hands with Principal Kendrick. You’ll take the diploma, and as it’s changing hands, you’ll stop and count to three slowly while also looking toward the audience and smile. When Principal Kendrick releases the diploma, you’ll continue across the stage and take the next available seat in the front row of the auditorium.”

Got it,” Lauren said with a nod.

She craned her neck to glance into the auditorium. With the lights beaming down on the stage and the sitting area plunged into darkness, she couldn’t see the audience, but she knew the hall was stuffed. She could almost taste the unmistakable feeling of too many bodies in a small, humid, poorly air-conditioned school building.

And Lauren,” said Mr. Alcorn.

Yes?”

Congratulations.”

Lauren smiled. All of the teachers at Beaumont had been wonderful—regrettably, she couldn’t say the same for the students.

Mr. Alcorn patted her back, and before Lauren knew it, her name was called out.

Lauren Upsdell.”

That’s your cue,” Mr. Alcorn said. “Go for it.”

Lauren bowed her head and stepped forward, heart racing. Being front and center before a crowd of strangers couldn’t appeal less, but it was the final trial of high school and certainly not the worst. Lauren just wanted it all over and to get out of the place for good.

As she stepped out into the bright lights, the audience applauded politely. Lauren’s cheeks heated, and she focused her attention on walking across the stage until she’d successfully made it to Principal Kendrick without tripping over her own feet.

Hi, Lauren,” Principal Kendrick said softly. “Congratulations.” She held out a hand for her to shake, and Lauren did so.

Flashlights exploded in the audience—school photographers taking pictures for the yearbook, she guessed. Or professional photographers looking to make a buck off parents.

Vice Principal Dunn handed Principal Kendrick the diploma, and Lauren grasped her end of it and slowly counted to three. More flashes went off, accompanied by a single, whooping cheer from the audience.

She grinned at the recognizable sound of her Uncle Joe. Aunt Lori couldn’t make it due to work, but enthusiastic Uncle Joe more than compensated for her absence.

They were terrific guardians, even if they had their disagreements from time to time. Lauren considered herself lucky. Not every teenage orphan got a happy ending. If bullying was all she had to deal with, then her time at Beaumont was a success. A rickety achievement, but considering her circumstances, a success nevertheless.

Go on and take your seat,” Principal Kendrick whispered. She released the diploma.

Lauren smiled at her one last time. “Thank you.”

You’re welcome. And congratulations again.”

As Lauren headed past her for the stairs leading into the audience, Erin Weston’s name rang out, and the attention shifted to the next pupil. Lauren breathed out a sigh of relief, took the stairs quickly, and then dropped into the empty chair next to Gregory.

They’d all finally made it.

Lauren beamed into the darkness and let her head rest on the back of the chair. Her mind wandered. With no idea about what came next, now her school career had finished. She had plenty to think about. She’d intended to find her own way in this big, wide world. At only eighteen, it seemed the right time for Lauren to dream of bigger things. Adventure. Mystery. Suspense. Excitement.

First, Lauren needed to go meet up with Jade to celebrate. In quarantine, getting over an illness, Jade lived in a weird state of in-between where she was well enough to do things around the house and lead a normal life, but not yet well enough to venture outside.

That didn’t mean Lauren couldn’t go to see her.

Once cocktail hour ended and the graduation party split up, Lauren planned a full night ahead, celebrating with Jade.

The end of one chapter in her life brought closer the beginning of another.

What a chapter she intended to make it.

Chapter Two

Cocktail hour was a misnomer.

Sparkling grape juice and water were about as daring as Beaumont High School got, but Lauren didn’t mind. Law-abiding and lacking a rebellious bone in her body, underage drinking didn’t appeal. Besides, it weeded out the problem kids.

Odelia and her crew left the reception fairly early, undoubtedly to celebrate in all the ways Lauren didn’t care for and possibly weren’t legal. That suited her fine. She wouldn’t run into them, and the less she had to worry about, the better.

Before long, Lauren saw Uncle Joe cutting through the crowds and lifting a hand over her head to wave. In response, Lauren lifted her champagne flute filled with sparkling grape juice. She had her diploma clutched firmly in her hand.

Lauren!” Uncle Joe exclaimed once he’d reached Lauren’s side. He opened his arms for a hug. “Congratulations.”

Thank you.” Lauren fitted herself against her uncle’s chest and hugged her, Uncle Joe’s arms locking around her and squeezing her tight. “I’m… Well, I’m glad, really.”

It’s a big step,” Uncle Joe said as she released Lauren from the hug. “I’m so glad you’ve made it. Your mother and father would have been proud.”

The loss still stung—Lauren didn’t believe there’d be a time when the death of her parents didn’t hurt—but she smiled anyway. She’d risen above her loss to accomplish something great. She had every reason in the world to be proud.

So,” Uncle Joe continued, “now that you’ve gotten your diploma, what’s next on the agenda?”

They crossed the room together, walking side by side.

Lauren sipped at her sparkling grape juice. “I’m going to stay here a little with you, return my graduation robes to the people waiting in the gym, then go over to see Jade so she can feel excited about graduating, too.”

Uncle Joe chuckled. “I meant in the long term.”

Oh.” Lauren’s cheeks burned. She shrugged a shoulder, unwilling to commit. She hadn’t brought up the topic of college with Uncle Joe or Aunt Lori because she didn’t want them to feel pressured. They’d done a terrific job of taking care of her after Lauren’s parents had passed away, and Lauren didn’t want them to think she expected a handout. “I’m…um…I’m not sure. I’m going to work for a little while and save up so hopefully, I can go to college in the future, but that’s, you know, not a for-sure thing, or anything.”

College.” Uncle Joe hummed under his breath. They arrived at the refreshments table, and Uncle Joe snagged a flute of sparkling grape juice for himself. “Your Aunt Lori and I were discussing it earlier. I wish we could afford to send you.”

Oh, no.” Lauren shook her head. “You’ve done so much for me already I couldn’t ask you to do that, too. I’ll figure it out. I always do. Besides, I’m going to landscape this summer for Mrs. Nohart, so I’ll be making some money, and if I’m truthful, I don’t even know what I’d study if I did end up going to college. I, um, I never decided exactly what it is I want to do.”

She never told anyone of her ambitions. It seemed too lofty and unreal to explain. She felt it nevertheless, a kind of inspirational draw—she’d felt it ever since a young age. It seemed childish, but rather than growing out of it, the sensation had gotten much stronger in recent years. Like an invisible thread wrapped tightly around her sternum, it pulled her toward…something.

So far, she’d just never managed to figure out the something.

Lauren’s mediocre drawing ability proved it wasn’t art, and it certainly couldn’t be anything academic because she was an average student at best. Sports were out of the question; she didn’t have the coordination or the endurance or the interest.

But now and then, especially when the seasons changed, a thread tugged at her, as though to remind her she had a future elsewhere if she could only figure out where. All through the last year, it had been tugging harder than ever. As winter melted into spring, there’d been a point in time when Lauren had spent a whole weekend in bed, simultaneously filled with wonder and excitement over the boundless energy in her veins, yet anxious, because she couldn’t figure out what it meant.

She had a destiny to fulfill, a vocation. But she had no idea how to find it.

You’ll figure it out,” Uncle Joe promised. “You’re a resourceful girl.”

I know.” They made their way across the room to a quiet corner. “I just don’t want you to feel bad about it. I’m going to figure this out, no matter what it means. You can count on me.”

After polite conversation with teachers, pupils, and other kids’ parents, she was free to move on.

With a bow of her head, Lauren said farewell to Beaumont High. She’d returned her robe and parted ways with Uncle Joe, intending to walk the distance between the high school and Jade’s place.

She didn’t live all that far from the school. Lauren cut across the football field. She wondered, briefly, if Jade would be awake. Bordering on ten at night didn’t seem late, but Jade was officially ill.

As Lauren walked, she pulled out her phone and composed a brief text message.

Hey, coming over. Get ready to celebrate 🙂

The message sent, she tucked her phone back into her pocket and collided with something. Lauren grunted, the air knocked from her lungs, and promptly fell on her ass.

She looked up. Towering over her stood Odelia, with her cronies, her best friend Jill and their boyfriends, Jason and Rhett, flanking them on either side.

Well look at this. If it isn’t the Pipsqueak again.” Odelia’s vicious smirk chilled Lauren to the bone. “Back on your butt. What did I say back there? You’re always going to be underneath us, Upsdell.”

She’s so clumsy; she might as well live on the ground.” Jill laughed. “Pretty sure being so low is her natural state of being.”

Cut it out, Jill.” No one ever called the bullies off. The sickly sweet cruel tone in Odelia’s voice warned this time was no different. “She’s graduated now. We all are. We’re grown-up, young adults with our whole futures ahead of us. I think it’s time to turn a new leaf.”

Like what?” Jason asked. He mimicked the tone, and it sounded as if he were in on the joke. The moonlight glinted off his teeth as he grinned maliciously.

You’re not thinking of helping the Pipsqueak get back on her feet, are you?” asked Jill in a similarly insincere tone.

She made it through high school, somehow.” Odelia shrugged and slipped her hands around her waist. “It’s a time for a celebration. I think we should help her get back on her feet and keep her supported. Teach her how to stand tall.”

Lying on the slightly damp ground, Lauren curled her fingers into the blades of grass. Like the metal blade of a sword, the grass beneath her hand felt cool to the touch, and its sharp points stabbed her palms when she pushed her hands down.

Unable to explain how, she drew the strength for endurance from the endless ground beneath her, feeling her own heart beating against it. She knew she could only feel it because her heart raced from fear, but in the moment, her heart and the earth were as one.

I’m okay,” Lauren murmured. She didn’t attempt to stand. “Thank you for the offer, though. That’s very generous.”

It’s not an offer. We insist.” Odelia reached down and grabbed Lauren by the front of her dress, and instantly the boyfriends were either side of Lauren. Odelia released her grip as the men’s hands went around Lauren’s arms and they yanked her to her feet as if she weighed nothing at all.

In silence, Odelia led the way across the field toward the woods that framed it.

The men didn’t let Lauren go but dragged her along as she staggered and tried to find her footing. Her mind raced to find a solution to her predicament.

She couldn’t fight Odelia, let alone take on all four at once, but if she could spring free, she could outrun them. A hopeful plan started to form. If she took them by surprise, she could escape their clutches. As Lauren braced herself for a struggle, she saw what waited on the edge of the woods.

N-No,” she uttered, digging her heels into the field. “No, you can’t!”

What?” Odelia looked over her shoulder at Lauren and grinned. She strode on forward. “We’re only going to help make sure you can stand up for yourself without falling on your face. In a few years’ time, you’ll thank us for teaching you a lesson.”

The guys following showed no sign of loosening their grip. Lauren didn’t like her slim chances of escape.

A coiled rope waited at the edge of the woods.

It must’ve been left there. Planted.

Rope carefully placed ahead of time turned the event from a prank or an opportunist moment to extend their bullying, to an abduction, something planned and, therefore, far more sinister.

Lauren didn’t know exactly what Odelia had planned, but if it involved a rope and the woods, she expected the worst. She couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t. She had her whole future ahead of her.

Looks like she’s about to piss herself, she’s so afraid,” Jason said with a laugh.

Odelia pulled out her phone and turned on her flashlight app, lighting up the dark woods that lay ahead. “What’s the matter, Pipsqueak? Afraid to stand on your own?”

They reached the rope at the edge of the woods.

You got her, Jason?” Without waiting for a reply, Rhett released Lauren and hefted the rope into his arm and hung it, coiled, over his shoulder.

I’m serious, you can’t do this,” Lauren said. She struggled against her captors, but they held her tight. “You can’t!”

We’re gonna,” Odelia said. “And you get to decide how bad it’s going to be for you. Keep struggling, and we might tie it around that neck of yours, see how tall you can stand when your feet can barely touch the ground.”

You’re going to kill me if you do that.” Was that what they intended? Lauren’s heart beat like a rabbit’s when caught in a fox’s paws. In desperation, she glanced to the side. Only one man held her by one arm. It might be her best chance. She made a break for it but choked as she was yanked back against Jason’s chest.

Jill laughed. And Lauren decided they must be crazy, drunk, or on drugs. Whichever, it didn’t bode well for her.

You’re going to kill yourself if you don’t stop struggling,” Odelia hissed into her ear. “You want to behave and accept our help, and we’ll only tie you to a tree so you can practice standing up for yourself. Isn’t that right, guys?”

Yep,” Rhett agreed, patting the coil of rope on his shoulder. “That’s right.”

So quit struggling.” Odelia turned the light, shining it directly on Lauren, so it momentarily blinded her and their surroundings went black. “It’s getting old.”

Lauren squeezed her eyes shut, pulse hammering in her ears. She knew she couldn’t trust them, but she didn’t have another choice. The bullies towered over her, each of the men was twice her size. If she couldn’t break away, she didn’t have a shot at running away. She let her body go slack and hoped their mercy would reward her cooperation.

That’s a good girl,” Jason said. “Nice and easy. We’re going to keep walking for a while, find a tree somewhere nice and deep in the woods where no one’ll think to look, and let you get some practice in peace.”

If you tie me up, how am I going to get out?” Lauren asked.

Odelia turned the flashlight to light the way. “Oh, I don’t know.” Odelia marched forward, forcing Lauren to move along, too.

You’re so good at messing things up; you’ll probably just end up falling out of the ropes.” Jill laughed as if she’d said something funny. “Right on your ass.” She giggled some more. “Typical. We set you up so you can’t fail, and then you fail regardless.”

Unwilling to believe this was really happening, Lauren blinked back tears. The longer they walked, the clearer it became: Odelia and her crew intended to take Lauren somewhere so deep and distant that even if she shouted, no one would hear her. After everything they’d put her through, when she finally thought she was free of them, they were just going to tie her up in the woods and leave her for dead?

They had to realize what they were doing.

This wasn’t some prank, and it went beyond bullying.

With a real genuine fear for her life, Lauren could see no way out of the predicament. She couldn’t reason with these assholes.

As they went deeper, swirling mist hid the ground from view, but Lauren’s feet saw for her. They traversed uneven ground, tangled roots, and crunching leaves.

Please, please don’t do this,” Lauren begged when they came to a sudden halt. They’d reached a part of the woods that Lauren didn’t recognize. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want.”

We want you to tie yourself to a tree, then,” Jill said. She hooted at her own joke.

God. And if you could shut up, that would probably be nice, too,” Jason said, and all four of them giggled like preschoolers at a birthday party.

Lauren could see nothing funny in the dire situation.

Jason thrust Lauren forward, and she collided head first with a sturdy, gnarled tree with thick bark. An abrasive piece of bark scraped her cheek, the searing sting intense enough that Lauren was sure it drew blood. Before she could lift a hand to assess the damage, Odelia grabbed her and spun her around, slamming her into the tree. Then Rhett and Jason set about tying her up.

They bound her arms first, tying Lauren’s wrists together. The binding didn’t cut into her skin but wrapped tight enough around so her hands hung uselessly in front of her body. After her hands were secure, they worked in tandem to wrap the rope around the tree, tightening as they went. They wrapped Lauren’s torso six times around until she was pressed so tightly to the tree, she couldn’t move. She could only manage to lift her feet and dip her head; the rest of her mobility was stolen.

Look at this.” Odelia stepped back from the tree and opened her arms wide as if showing Lauren off to the world. “The Uptight Pipsqueak, standing up tall and on her own, for the first time in her life.”

It’s unnatural.” Rhett shook his head.

Jill giggled. “An abomination. Let’s take pictures.”

Chapter Three

Cell phone cameras flashed. Lauren closed her eyes and looked away, trying not to let the humiliation get to her. She knew this would appear all over social media, but at least it meant she might have a chance of surviving the ordeal. Someone would see her tied up and know where to look. She wouldn’t be left out here forever.

Look at this one.” Jill snorted.

It went dark. Lauren lifted her head and opened her eyes to see Odelia’s light illuminating the ground at her feet.

I got it before Uptight closed her eyes. Look at how weird they are.”

They’ve always been weird, like her. So what?” Odelia asked. All three huddled around Jill’s phone, looking down at the screen.

So, with the spooky forest in the background, she looks like an actual freak!” Rhett exclaimed.

The gray one looks normal; it’s just…” Jason scrunched his nose in distaste. “The green one is weird. Ick. I didn’t realize there was such an intense color difference between them. What a fucking bizarre picture. Looks fake.”

Lauren liked her eyes. Most of the time, her central heterochromia was too faint to notice. Although one of her eyes was gray, the other eye had a crown of green around her pupil. Tendrils of color flared out, like green rays of sunshine from the black sun of her pupil, but the colors suited each other.

Put it away.” Odelia shuddered. “It’s weird. I don’t like it.”

This whole place is weird.” Jason slowly swiveled, turning in a full circle on the spot and looking in every direction. “Is there a swamp nearby? I mean, what the hell is with this mist?”

A temperature thing, or something.” Odelia scowled and shuddered again. Or possibly shivered. “It sometimes happens, all right? Especially when it’s all weird and dark and damp, like in the woods. You don’t need a swamp to have mist.”

I’m not so sure,” Rhett said uneasily. “Whatever. We’ve got our pictures. Let’s go. The Pipsqueak can deal with the mist all on her own.”

Lauren squirmed against the ropes, trying to get them to go slack. “You can’t leave me here.”

Thankfully, they weren’t recording her. Lauren knew how pathetic and scared she sounded. She knew begging Odelia to change her mind wasn’t going to work, but she was stuck and desperate.

Stop complaining,” Odelia snapped. “We haven’t gagged you. You’ve been pretty good so far. I thought you were learning something after all.”

Despite it all, Lauren stood strong, attempting to conceal her fear. She wouldn’t let them think they’d won. She couldn’t. Even though it seemed they had.

Let’s go,” Odelia said brusquely, and she turned as if to leave.

We all bow down to the Almighty Uptight Underbite,” Rhett teased, sweeping into a low bow as he backed away. “The only kid in town whose eyes are as messed up as her head is. You’re a total package, aren’t you?”

The bullies all laughed at the joke.

Odelia turned again and took a step toward Lauren. “Yeah, a total package. The only way she’s getting some love action is face down, ass in the air. No one’s going to get off while they have to look at a face like that.”

Untrue words couldn’t inflict pain, and Lauren let them roll off her shoulders. She honestly considered herself attractive, in an unconventional way. Slender and neat, she’d never have the cheerleader aesthetic, but she had a good figure and dressed nicely. Apart from the subtle difference between her two eyes, there was nothing abnormal about her.

It didn’t matter that Odelia and her gang couldn’t recognize it. They weren’t Lauren’s type, anyway. Although at that moment, whether anyone could ever crush on her took second place to the more pressing concern of whether she’d live to see freedom and then find the love of her life.

Odelia turned again and set off toward home with her entourage close by. “Catch ya later, Pipsqueak,” she called out without looking back.

As Odelia, Jill, Jason, and Rhett left, Lauren closed her eyes and worked through a silent mantra. Their destructive words were meant to harm, not meant to tell the truth. She knew she couldn’t take anything they said seriously, and she internalized the thought over and over.

She was worthwhile. She was worthy. She was important.

When the sound of their footsteps faded into nothing, Lauren opened her eyes again. She was well and truly alone.

What are you going to do?” she asked nobody in a whisper, finding comfort in hearing her words out loud against the sounds of the night. She strained against the ropes. “There’s got to be something. You can figure it out. There’s a way to get out of this. C’mon, c’mon…”

Working her shoulders back and forth, Lauren squirmed and tried to duck down. When it failed, she planted her feet against the base of the tree and tried to push herself forward.

The ropes didn’t give.

Of course, they didn’t, and Lauren found it challenging to focus on the positive right then.

There wasn’t much to be positive about in her life as a poor orphan.

A lesbian and mostly in the closet.

A teenager with few prospects and mediocre grades.

Humiliated by bullies. Humiliated no matter what happened. Whether they came back and rescued her, or whether she was found dead or alive by other people.

Life was shit.

She could always yell, but it would most likely be a waste of breath and energy with no one around to hear her.

She could wait until the next morning and hope Mr. Hinsley took a gym class outside so someone on the football field might hear her, but even that was a stretch. They had taken her so deep into the forest Lauren doubted anyone would hear her.

She was worthwhile. She was worthy. She was important.

She had to remind herself. She whispered the words of her mantra out loud. She had to survive.

Lauren breathed in deep and held it, then exhaled slowly. Panic started to build inside her, much as she knew it wouldn’t help.

The more she wore herself out, the worse it would be. She needed a solid plan into which she could invest all her energy. Flailing and screaming didn’t make a good plan and might get her hurt. Without access to water, her throat would dry out, and she wouldn’t be able to call out when she needed to.

She wouldn’t survive long without water anyhow, and she knew it. Lauren needed to play it smart and use the one tool she had that they couldn’t take away: her brain.

The forest wasn’t going anywhere; she wasn’t going anywhere. Unless those jackasses returned, which seemed unlikely, help wouldn’t arrive until morning at the earliest.

A fresh worry formed and took hold of her troubled mind. First and foremost, she needed to relieve the pressure building in her bladder. Already utterly humiliated by everything that had happened in these woods, Lauren didn’t want to add to the ordeal. If she could, she’d like to avoid someone finding her with urine-soaked pants and ammonia burns to her legs.

All right,” Lauren said, bolstering herself. “It’s easy. Your hands are—” She stretched her fingers. Her hands were so close and yet, not close enough. She didn’t have the dexterity required to reach and and do anything useful.

A branch snapped, and Lauren fell silent. Whatever had broken it sounded much heavier than a squirrel. What kind of creatures lived deep in the woods?

Bears. Coyotes. Wolves.

Lauren stopped thinking about it. Instead, she kept very still and turned her head toward the noise. A pair of eyes flashed in the darkness, distinctly animal.

God,” Lauren whispered, unable to help herself. She strained against the rope, but it wouldn’t budge. “Please, please don’t do this.”

The eyes came closer. If it weren’t for the pale moonlight that made its way through the foliage overhead, Lauren never would have seen them. She couldn’t even make out what kind of animal they belonged to.

I will kick you,” Lauren warned. She kicked out her feet to show she meant trouble, but it only stopped the animal in its tracks, not turn it around.

A second set of eyes joined it, both of them glinting in the darkness. Then another. Fur, shimmering like still water under starlight, drew Lauren’s eye. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of night, she saw them more clearly.

Magnificent creatures.

Wolves?

Movement caught Lauren’s attention. While she hadn’t been looking, three more wolves had approached her other side. They formed a semicircle surrounding the tree. They gazed at her as though curious and afraid to get close.

That’s right.” Although shaken, she tried to sound confident. “I’ll kick you. I’ll kick you, and it’ll hurt.”

Having never seen an actual wolf up close before, Lauren started to think these creatures might not be wolves but foxes. They were big for foxes but small for wolves.

Lauren expected them to charge and braced herself for the assault when something surprising happened. The animals sat. Mist swirled around their haunches, alive despite the still air. Lauren had no way to explain what happened. She didn’t know a lot about wild predators, but she didn’t think a pack of them would just sit and watch their prey.

Would they?

She watched them, alert for the sign of an attack, which she was sure would come at any moment.

If these were her last few moments alive, Lauren wanted to make sure they counted. She took a minute to breathe in the forest air, crisp and humid, perfumed with pine and fallen leaves. She savored the rough feeling of bark against her skin, taking time to appreciate that she could feel at all. The beating of her heart drowned out most of the noises of the forest, but when Lauren focused, she heard the chirp of crickets and the buzz of nighttime insects.

If only for a second, she distracted herself from the danger and said goodbye to a world far more beautiful than she’d noticed before.

The mist swirled in tendrils and parted.

Parted?

Wondering if it were a trick of the light, Lauren squinted. There was no mistake. Moonlight streamed into the small section of forest with startling intensity, illuminating the six dog-like creatures gathered before her and revealing the strange parting in the mist. The wolves all sat to either side of it like they’d anticipated its arrival. It opened up wider, forming a straight passage. A pathway to Lauren.

Farther, into the forest, the shadows moved. A shape emerged, taller than a fox, but narrower than a bear. The human figure stood erect, man or woman, Lauren couldn’t make out from just the silhouette in the dancing light of the night. How could it be human, though? What human walks though the forest in the dark and commands mist and wild animals like this?

The creature stepped into the moonlight.

It was a woman.

A tall and elegant woman.

She paid no attention to the wild animals, acting as if they weren’t there, and they paid no attention to her in return. They sat as still as obedient dogs. Maybe they were dogs, not wolves.

As the figure took a step forward along the mist-cleared path, familiarity washed through Lauren, gripping her chest so hard, it hurt. Lauren’s lips parted, but she had no words to speak. She froze.

She knew what she saw, but she couldn’t believe her eyes. Something about the tall, noble woman seemed familiar. Not only did Lauren’s mind struggle to remember, but her heart ached for the memory, too. It wasn’t just the woman, either, but everything about this weird setting. The mist, the ancient forest, the damp scent of moss, the dogs.

That’s right; they were dogs. Or wolves? She couldn’t tell.

The feeling of purpose, of destiny, that Lauren had harbored for so long, tugged with more force than it ever had before.

The figure stopped several feet away, and she looked Lauren over curiously.

Lauren couldn’t help it. She sobbed, and she had no idea why. Of course, her predicament was reason enough. The relief of being found alive and the surreal, ghostly environment may have been the cause of the strange churning emotions that Lauren didn’t understand and couldn’t control.

The tears came all at once, triggered by whatever had awakened in her soul. She struggled against her ropes as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. The mist. The wolves. The handsome woman. All of it seemed strangely familiar, as if from a dream, or like something she’d loved long ago, but had forgotten all about.

The woman lifted a hand, her fingers extended as if she were about to conduct an orchestra, and the dogs rose to their feet in unison. Lauren wept, fighting to free her hands. Her attempts were in vain. The woman extended the hand slowly toward the tree, pointing a single finger. She moved with grace and nobility, as if the smallest of her movements still bore significance.

No, as if the smallest of her movements wielded enormous power. Lauren knew this but wasn’t sure how.

The dogs moved into action. They approached Lauren, each one of them slow and cautious. The first nuzzled against her thigh; the second mouthed at the rope, then bit and pulled. Soon, all of them were united in their efforts.

Somehow, Lauren knew she was safe, and she watched without fear as they worked at the bindings.

The rope strained, then went slack, and Lauren stumbled as her legs took her own weight once more.

With a strangled cry, Lauren pulled free of the ropes and fell forward. Practicality urged her to run and not look back, but the sickening nostalgic part of her mind and the beating of her heart begged her to stay.

Sobbing and struggling with her choice, she remained still, frozen and unable to flee.

Letting her hand drop, the woman stood, silent and stoic, in front of Lauren for a long while. Surely this had to be a dream? She had to be hallucinating. This could not be real.

As the woman stepped forward, Lauren imagined a soft crunch of twigs and leaves. She didn’t hear any footsteps; they were inaudible over the constant buzz of the music of nature at nighttime.

Lauren lifted her head, the last of her tears streaming down her cheeks. The closer the woman got, the less the insistent tugging bothered her. Step by graceful step, the woman traversed the forest floor until she stood directly in front of Lauren. Close enough to touch.

Ropes still bound her hands. If they hadn’t, she would have run her fingers along the woman’s fine jawline and felt the soft skin there.

In turn, the woman looked down at her, and she did reach out. Both of her hands trailed across Lauren’s cheeks, fingers encircling the back of Lauren’s head. The woman’s palms cupped Lauren delicately, like a lover’s might after a long time apart. It should have felt weird, invasive. It didn’t.

The touch felt right.

When the woman leaned down and kissed her, she stole the breath from Lauren’s lungs and the strength from her knees. Lauren surrendered to her and kissed back, enchanted. For her very first kiss, it seemed so right in the moment, as if they had met already and a long-term commitment existed between them.

The way the woman touched Lauren with reverence and kissed with passion… it was something amazing and new for Lauren. It felt as if they were longtime lovers reunited after spending some time apart. She even tasted familiar, a little bit like fresh salad leaves.

Lauren knew nothing of this person, this lady, yet she trusted her. Instinctively, she trusted her more than anything.

Lauren’s heart beat fast, heavy and full.

Sleep,” the woman whispered against Lauren’s lips, her voice like a lullaby long forgotten.

Lauren submitted to the magic and knew no more.   

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