1. Lucas
Lucas
FLORIDA
“If you don’t hurry up, we’re going to be late. How many pairs of underwear do you need?”
“You’re seriously asking me that?” I dragged my suitcase out of our bedroom and was met by Cam’s folded arms and impatient stare. “Wait a minute.” I unzipped the front, reached my hand in, and started digging around.
“Now what?!”
My fingers felt around as I ignored Cam’s nostril flare. We were like five minutes late. That was on time for me and he knew that.
“Here it is.” Triumphantly, I pulled out a purple jockstrap and held it up for Cam to see.
“That’s it. Your lucky jockstrap?”
“I don’t hear you complaining when it’s all I’m wearing around the house.”
Cam didn’t say anything. Well, any words.
In three steps, he had my arms pinned above my head and his tongue tangling with mine.
After a good twenty seconds, he pulled back to say, “I do like half-naked chore time,” then resumed what I could only describe as a world champion kiss.
Cam would win, hands down. The way my body responded to just his mouth on mine… my libido would be set for life.
I was breathless when he took a second to gulp some air. “I thought we were late.”
He smirked, looking down from his whole-inch-taller-than-me vantage point, then slithered his hands around my waist and under the elastic band of my shorts.
“Had to check. I knew you’d be going commando.”
“Easy access, handsome. I was hoping for some quality in-flight entertainment.”
Cam groaned and pulled back. “I bet. Stuff your jock in the bag. If we forgot something, my mom can bring it later.”
“Oh yeah, I see that going well.” I held an imaginary phone to my ear.
“Hi Heather, we’re going to need you to swing by the house to pick up a few things we forgot.
Cam’s leather harness and metal cockring, my crotchless booty shorts, and the silver nipple clamps.
Not the ones in the bathroom next to our matching Fleshjacks, the ones on the dresser.
And don’t go in the den, we don’t want you to see the sling just yet. It’s not finished.”
Cam rolled his eyes and shoved me towards the door, then picked up both our suitcases. “Let’s go!”
I grabbed the keys from the hook by the door and held it open for Cam, locking it behind us.
Cam’s mother lived about fifteen minutes from our house.
What was once Cam’s mother’s great aunt’s cottage was now our home.
It took us a few years to make it livable - the flooded bathroom was no joke - but we had been in it for over a year now.
I still had to pinch myself every now and then. It seemed like a fantasy.
I slowed the car down in front of the flower shop, rolling to a stop.
“Cutting it a little close, boys,” Heather warned, as she opened the door.
“You know whose fault that is, Mom.”
I gave her a sheepish grin in the rearview as she sat down and buckled up.
It was a thirty minute drive to Tampa International Airport.
After dropping us off, Heather was taking our car back to the house, so we didn’t have to pay parking for three weeks.
She’d be coming to San Francisco in a week or so, in time for the opening ceremony.
“What was it this time? The coin, or something I don’t want to know about?”
The coin!
I let off the gas and tried to remember.
“Don’t worry, tiger. I got it.” Cam read my mind.
“?No manches!”
“I’m not joking. It’s right here.” He pulled the platypus coin out of his pocket.
I let out a big breath. His ability to know what I was thinking was uncanny. One of the benefits of living together for almost four years.
“Haven’t you done this before?” Heather asked, leaning forward to rub my shoulder.
I chuckled and unclenched my asshole.
Well, just a little bit. Tampa traffic was a bitch.
“I still can’t believe your mom got us these tickets for my birthday.” Heather surprised me with them at my birthday dinner in May. Cam smiled, leaned over, and puckered his lips. I kissed him, knowing he needed it. He hated flying.
“It’s like she loves you or something.” Cam shrugged and fiddled with the safety brochure.
“Can I get you gentlemen anything before we take off?”
I glanced up to see an appreciative smile and amber eyes that seemed to sparkle. In that way.
Stereotypically, male flight attendants had a reputation. I laughed a little on the inside because the reputation was not unearned. Every flight. It never failed. A guy would find us and give us extra of whatever we needed. It happened with the women, too.
I knew Cam and I were famous. Not like Chris Hemsworth or anything, but something told me this gentleman wasn’t going to be our first admirer of the day.
After all, it was a six hour flight.
“I’ll take a Sex on the Beach,” Cam replied.
I watched the guy’s eyes bulge for a second before he hid his smirk. It was early, but I knew Cam was nervous. I didn’t mind a tipsy Cam either. He got handsy when he drank, a fun combination at high altitudes.
“We’re actually not supposed to serve alcohol just yet,” he said, lowering his voice, “but I’ll make an exception for you two. Would you like something, Lu-?”
There it is.
“I mean, sir.”
I knew he recognized us.
“Just a Diet Coke, thanks.”
“If you need anything else, just let me know. My name’s Sean.”
It had been a few hours since they served us breakfast, and despite having two dedicated flight attendants for first class - including Sean from earlier - I had counted at least four others traversing through the cabin at different times.
Seemingly, they had purpose, but I made eye contact with every one of them before they glanced away.
I still found it odd to be recognized, especially in non-athletic settings.
Cam’s hand slid up the leg of my shorts, causing me to twitch in my seat. The calluses on his palm tickled as they rubbed over the fine hairs on my thigh. He was going for my-
Jesus!
I glanced around out of habit. We had some privacy since the seats were asymmetrical across the aisle, but anyone could walk by and see us, including Sean.
“Really, Cam?” I whispered. “Here?!”
“What? You’re the one that went commando. That’s practically an invitation.”
“Last night’s fuckfest wasn’t enough for you?”
Cam seemed to think about it for a minute. “That was your send-off. Like when they break the bottle of champagne on the bow of a ship, you know, for a good voyage.”
“If only cum were champagne-flavored.” I jolted in my seat as his fingertips made contact with my balls. My hormones were on their way to kill my brain cells. Rational thoughts were trying to form. I looked down, knowing what I’d see. My shorts were tenting.
Cam’s touch still drove me wild.
“Not here, Cam!” I managed to get out. “The bathroom on the right. Meet me in a minute. Knock twice, I’ll let you in.”
“You sure?”
“Better than in front of everybody!”
“Aren’t two guys in the bathroom kind of obvious?”
“Now, you’re bashful?! I don’t think Sean is going to give us any problems. He probably would either watch or participate, and the other first class passengers are asleep or watching TV. No one will care.”
“Who’s Sean?”
“The flight attendant that’s been undressing us since we left Tampa.”
“Oh.” Cam smiled, before whispering, “I kind of like the idea of him knowing.”
I gave him a kiss and headed to the back of the first class cabin. As I waited for Cam, I had a slight moment of panic that he might knock on the other bathroom door, but my worries were misplaced. I heard two knocks and cracked the door. It was Cam.
“Hey, got a dick in there for me?” Cam giggled.
I wanted to roll my eyes, but my dick responded for me. Cam slipped in and immediately cupped my bulge through my shorts. He maneuvered around me, pushing me against the door, as he took a seat on the toilet lid.
In mere seconds, my shorts were on the floor and his mouth was wrapped around my dick.
Cam was a natural from the start, but he had perfected his technique with some coaching over the years.
While he still couldn’t deep throat, he knew exactly how rough he could be with my junk and that knowledge was paying off.
I could feel my balls tightening already.
When his other hand made its way up my inner leg and a finger snaked its way to my hole, I about lost it.
“I’m gonna nut if you don’t stop, Cam. Don’t you wanna cum?”
He smiled, then fished something out of his pocket.
Travel lube.
He stood up, handed me the lube, pulled his shorts off over his sneakers, and tossed them on the sink.
And then, in a way only a gymnast could, braced himself against the wall and brought his feet up and around to rest on the angled ceiling over his head.
It was like something from a Spider-man porn parody and my dick approved.
Having a thing for Tom Holland may have helped.
Cam’s hole was ready and waiting at the perfect height. Quickly, I slathered my dick with lube and squirted some on his hole, pushing a few slicked-up fingers inside of him. I watched him squirm. His dick flexed with each ingress.
“Fuck me.”
I tossed the lube onto his shorts and moved closer, positioning my dick perfectly before pushing in. I knew after last night he was loose, so as soon as my head breached his muscle, I pushed the rest of it all the way.
Cam’s eyes rolled back and his legs dropped from the angled ceiling to my shoulders.
I wrapped my left hand around one for leverage and started pistoning in and out, making sure to slam in hard.
Cam liked it like that, and I liked hearing the sound of my balls slapping against his body. They liked it rough too.
“Mmm,” Cam moaned.
“Not - so - loud.” I said between thrusts.
“Can’t help it! Ah!” Unintelligible noises. “You’re hitting the right spot.”
Cam tried to reach for his dick, but he’d start slipping down the wall if he let go on either side. After two failed attempts, I said, “Here, let me.”