Tripod Position Read online

  As Matt made his way to the bar, a handsome man with a chiseled jaw and flyaway hair stepped in front of him. He flashed Matt an ingratiating grin. "Hey there, soldier," he said, shouting to be heard over the music. "A guy like you makes me want to stand up and salute, if you know what I mean. Your barracks or mine?"

  He winked and Matt suppressed a shudder. What the hell kind of pick-up line was that? And he'd thought Vic was bad...

  Behind him, Matt felt Vic's grip tighten in his vest. ::Oh no, he didn't.::

  Matt shook his head, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I'm with someone."

  "You can be with me," the man said, his grin cranking up a notch.

  "No," Matt insisted, "really. I'm cool."

  A hand reached out; one finger trailed down Matt's arm. Suddenly Matt found himself pulled out of the way as Vic pushed between them, snarling in anger. His jaw clenched, his muscles bulged, and now Matt was the one grabbing fists full of Vic's shirt to hold him at bay. With a mental shout, Vic drove his words directly into the stranger's head. ::He said he's with ME.::

  The man raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Easy, fella," he said, backing away into the crowd. He looked at Matt over Vic's shoulder. "Really, man. I didn't know. Sorry about that. Sorry."

  Matt smoothed a hand up Vic's bicep. The muscles bunched beneath his fingers excited him, and he leaned against Vic's back, grinding his crotch into Vic's buttocks so his lover would feel Matt's arousal. ::My hero,:: he teased, biting at Vic's shoulder with a kittenish growl. ::Buy me a drink, sexy.::

  Though the bar was busy, Vic raked the patrons with a deadly gaze and scared two of them off their barstools. Matt waited for Vic to sit down before he took the stool beside him, then leaned against his lover, one arm in Vic's lap, chin on his shoulder. As they waited for their drinks, Matt blew into Vic's ear and laughed. "I want to dance," he shouted over the music.

  "You wanted a drink," Vic reminded him.

  "And a dance." When the bartender set two plastic cups of beer in front of them, Matt slid off the barstool, grabbed a beer in one hand and hooked Vic's elbow with the other. "Come on. Dance with me."

  Vic rolled his eyes and groaned, a sound Matt felt more than heard. It tickled his insides and piqued his libido. "Come on," he cajoled. As Vic stood, Matt reached past him for the second beer. "It'll be fun."

  "You keep saying that," Vic groused. "But so far all I'm doing is fending off guys interested in you."

  Matt turned. With a beer in each hand, he couldn't touch Vic, so he leaned his whole body against his lover's. Vic's arms came up around his waist and Matt kissed the fine hairs of his lover's goatee. The next kiss was a little higher up on his jaw, the third just in front of his ear. Then Matt sighed into him, "Don't you know by now how much it turns me on to see you get all bad-ass on my behalf?"

  He rubbed his hips into Vic's, pushing the erection in his boyshorts against the hard cock in Vic's leather pants. Vic's reply was a guttural moan that did terrible things to Matt's already fluttering stomach. "Let me down these beers," he said, "get my groove on a bit, and then I'm gonna want to fuck you so hard, you'll taste my dick in the back of your throat."

  He felt a flush of lust rip through him. "Jesus," Vic muttered. "I didn't know you could talk that dirty."

  Stepping back, Matt flashed Vic a sweet smile. "What'd you think? Too much?"

  "Oh no," Vic assured him. He turned Matt around to point him in the direction of the dance floor. ::There was no part of that sentence I didn't like.::

  * * * *

  Music thudded through Vic, more vibration than sound. His senses were reeling--smoke clogged the club, stinging his eyes and throat, and the sharp tang of jism and sweat made his stomach churn. Out on the dance floor, with men grinding up against him, elbows jostling, feet stepping on his, Vic remembered just why he'd stopped clubbing in the first place. This was no longer his scene. Add in the telepathic abilities Matt gave him, and he felt assaulted both physically and mentally. It took all his concentration to keep others' erotic thoughts from trickling into his; every now and then when he relaxed, waves of lust crashed over him. By the time Matt found a spot he liked near the club's speakers, Vic clenched his lover's vest, his whole body shuddering with a desire only partially fueled by Matt himself.

  His hands dropped to Matt's hips to position his lover in front of him. With a cup of beer in either hand, Matt began to sway to the hard rock music pounding from the speakers. Vic backed up against the low dividing wall that separated the dance floor from a few tables where patrons groped and fondled each other. Matt backed up with him until his buttocks writhed against Vic's crotch. Shards of pleasure shot through Vic each time Matt rubbed into him. He stood still, letting Matt dance, a glare in his eyes that deterred anyone from approaching them.

  Matt sipped beer from both cups indiscriminately. The more he drank, the harder he ground back on Vic. Soon the cups were dropped to the floor, forgotten, and his lover lay against Vic's chest, his head on Vic's shoulder, his whole body gyrating with sensual movements. In the confines of his pants, Vic's cock was rigid, aching for release, and he considered easing down the zipper a little, just to rub his naked length against the back of Matt's shorts. Who would see him? The club was dark and Matt danced so close, no one would know. The thought turned Vic on something fierce, and lust spiked through his dick into his lower belly. Placing his mouth against Matt's ear, Vic hugged Matt to him. "God, I want you so bad right now."

  ::Well,:: Matt replied, using their psychic bond to be heard over the music, ::baby gets what he wants on his birthday.:: He turned in Vic's embrace, hands cradling Vic's face as he covered Vic's mouth with his own.

  The taste of alcohol filled Vic, inebriating. His fingers slid beneath the hem of Matt's leather vest and tickled up over his spine as their kiss deepened. Matt's tongue was demanding, insistent, and he pressed Vic back against the wall, one bare leg smoothing up Vic's thigh in his eagerness for his lover. A drunken litany trailed through his mind, ::Yes, God, Vic, yes, please,:: chasing away Vic's own thoughts and leaving nothing but hunger and desire in their wake.

  A nearby laugh brought Vic back to reality. They weren't alone, and the last thing Vic wanted was to put on a show. Still, it took every ounce of super strength he had to push Matt away. ::Come on,:: he thought, grabbing his lover by the wrist. He led the way off the dance floor, the crowd parting before him.

  Matt stumbled to keep up. ::Vic, where--::

  ::Someplace a little more private,:: Vic said. ::Don't worry, we'll pick up right where we left off. I promise.::

  The restrooms were near the back of the club. There were two of them--in a regular establishment, they would be marked for either gender, but here at the Manhole, both were for men only. A narrow hall led to the bathrooms, lined with couples in various stages of undress, bodies entwined, lips locked, hands thrust beneath clothing. These men had been headed for privacy only to be waylaid by the need to get off before they managed to snag one of the rooms.

  The restroom doors locked, a fact most customers forgot. Vic opened the first door and found one man seated on the closed toilet lid, his dick thrust into the willing mouth of a man on his knees before him. A third man stood, pants down, as the seated man sucked his dick, too.

  Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at Vic.

  "Sorry," he muttered, slamming the door shut.

  Matt snickered behind him. "What was that?" he asked as he reached for the door knob. "I didn't get to see..."

  "Nothing."

  Vic caught Matt's hand before he could open the door. Holding both wrists now, Vic led his lover to the next room. This was his last chance--if it were occupied, they'd have to head back to the car and Vic was too wound up to make it that far. Maybe an alley out back, then? He didn't want anyone watching them make love.

  Extending his mind, he dipped into the room behind the second closed door and brushed over the consciousness of a single man. He squatted on the floor beside the toilet, peering through a
hole in the wall that gave him an eyeful of the threesome going at it in the next room. His leather pants were unzipped as the hand wrapped around his cock pumped him toward release.

  With a low grunt, Vic kicked open the door. The man scrambled away from the wall, tugging up his zipper, his eyes wide with surprise that quickly turned to pain when he snagged his erection in the metal teeth. "Fuck!"

  "Out," Vic told him.

  The man stared as if he had never heard the word before.

  Vic added a mental shout. ::Get the hell OUT.::

  Still yanking on his zipper, the man hurried past them. Vic stood aside, then ushered Matt into the bathroom. Once the door was shut and locked, he unzipped his pants. Without ceremony, he pushed them to the floor.

  He felt a cool hand curve around one meaty buttock as Matt cupped his ass. "We could've just gone back to the car."

  "I want you," Vic told him. "Here, now. I hate waiting."

  Turning his back to his lover, he raised one foot to step out of the pants puddled on the floor and set his heavy boot on the closed lid of the toilet. His ass spread invitingly. Through their mental link, Vic felt Matt's arousal mirror his own. Vic prompted, "Well? Still want to go to the car?"

  "There's lube in the glove compartment," Matt pointed out, but he dropped to his knees behind Vic. The snaps on the breakaway crotch of his shorts pinged open under the stress of squatting with a hard-on, but he didn't tend to his own shaft; instead, his hands cradled Vic's buttocks, spreading them wide, as his tongue trailed between the fleshy mounds.

  When the wet muscle licked over Vic's quivering hole, his cock stood beneath the attention. It brushed against the edge of the sink, and the cold porcelain only excited him further, stiffening his dick. With the flat of his hand, Vic pressed his length along the cool, smooth surface, then moved his hips to thrust between the sink and his palm. The friction was maddening, and his pulse beat against his fingers like the wings of a captured bird trying to escape. Vic thrust again, harder, and gripped the sink with his hand as he forced his hard dick into the tight space. "Matty," he gasped.

  His lover's response was a ticklish lick below his anus. Saliva slicked the tender skin behind his balls, and strong fingers kneaded his buttocks, pushing them up and apart, opening him to Matt. Firm lips kissed hidden flesh, teeth nipped playfully into his secret places, each touch cranking up Vic's blood until it seemed to race through his veins, flooding his senses and dizzying his mind. In the dingy mirror above the sink, he watched his own reflection savor his lover's ministrations--slack cheeks, hooded eyes, mouth open in pure ecstasy. "Yes," he growled, fucking between his hand and the sink, then rocking back into Matt's eager tongue. "Yes, God, yes, yes."

  Nibbling at a sensitive spot between Vic's ass cheeks, Matt sent a sobering thought into his lover's mind. ::We still need lube. I'm telling you, there's some in the car...::

  Vic ran his hand across the back of the sink, knocking two half-empty bottles of hand soap onto the floor. "There," he grunted. "Use that."

  "It'll sting," Matt said, dubious.

  "Matty," Vic growled. His voice deepened, his throat thick with lust, and the sink's finish cracked beneath sudden pressure as he gripped it in frustration. ::Fuck me already, will you?::

  His cry ricocheted out into the club, a mental barrage so full of desire and want, other patrons swooned and trembled beneath it. In the bathroom beside theirs, a sexual frenzy broke out. Someone shouted, "Fuck me!" Someone else bumped up against the wall between the rooms, his loud moans easily broadcast through the thin plaster, ardent cries punctuated with steady rhythmic knocking as the threesome meshed into one orgasmic organism.

  Similar sounds erupted from the hall. "Look what you've started," Matt said with a laugh as he retrieved one of the bottles of hand soap from beneath the sink. "This whole place is going to be one huge orgy in a few minutes."

  "And I'm the only one not getting any," Vic grumbled.

  That earned him a playful smack on the ass. "Yours is coming, big boy." With a dollop of soap in his palm, Matt reached around Vic and stuck his hand in the sink. "Get me wet, will you?"

  Vic didn't have to be asked twice. He turned on the water, dousing Matt's hand, and turned it off again when his lover pulled back. He heard the squelch as Matt rubbed his hands together, and felt passion surge between them when those hands clasped around Matt's thick cock. Vic felt that hand as if it were on his own dick, pinching and squeezing, massaging his length, rubbing the soap into his skin... ::Some time tonight,:: he prodded his lover.

  "You're so demanding today," Matt teased. His slick hands slipped down the crack of his ass, lifting his buttocks again, parting them as the tip of his dick bumped into the tight hole at Vic's center.

  "It's my birthday," Vic reminded him. "I thought today I could have anything I wanted. All I want is--"

  With a hard push, Matt thrust into him and Vic's words disappeared in a breathy gasp. It did sting, but the stretch and burn only enhanced the moment, grounding Vic in the present, here, now, in this room with this man shoving into him, these hands on his waist angling for his dick, these lips on his shoulders and scalp and neck. Love filled him, the emotion so intricately meshed with Matt in Vic's mind that each thrust, each kiss, each touch left behind trails of desire flickering over Vic's skin, burning in his veins.

  ::You,:: he called out with every fiber of his being. ::Matty, yes, you, YOU.::

  Like two lifelong partners in a familiar dance, they fell into sync, Matt burrowing deep into Vic and staying there, his hips grinding his cock farther into his lover. The tiniest movement sent shivers of delight through Vic, spiraling from his prostate up through his groin, into his chest, his head, his heart. Matt massaged Vic's dick in one hand, his fingers covering Vic's own as they worked the length together, and the other rubbed over ticklish skin behind the knee of the leg propped on the toilet seat. The soap tingled Vic's ass, adding a delicious zing to their lovemaking, a dimension of added sensation that sparked the flame of his desire and fanned it into a pyre that threatened to consume them both.

  * * * *

  "In case you're wondering," Matt yelled out over the din of the crowd, his hand in Vic's as he followed his lover to the club's exit, "that was the Tripod Position. Your leg was up, see?"

  Vic turned to shout over his shoulder, "How do you remember these things?" Matt's hand tightened in his, and he felt more than saw his lover's pleased grin. Switching to mental communication to be heard better, Vic added, ::What'd you do, memorize the whole damn book?::

  ::Just some of it,:: Matt conceded. ::I never really thought we'd do that position because it can be pretty acrobatic. I mean, your leg was up off the floor the whole time.::

  With a grunt, Vic admitted, ::On the toilet lid. That's not exactly Olympic gold material.::

  When they finally made it outside, they found the humidity of August had thinned out, and a very faint breeze cooled the sweat drying on their exposed skin. The bikers had migrated inside, leaving the street deserted. Soft moans came from the alley beside the club--a quick mental scan showed Vic two patrons rubbing against each other in the dark. Nothing to worry about. He wrapped an arm around Matt's shoulders and pulled his lover against him; Matt rested his head on Vic's chest, his arms easing around Vic's waist to hold him close. "Did you have fun?"

  Vic kissed his lover's temple. "Thanks."

  They started down the street but didn't get very far--a few steps from the corner, Vic's hand strayed to the front pocket of his leather pants and he drew up short. Matt walked out of his embrace before he noticed Vic had stopped. "What is it?"

  "Damn it," Vic growled. "My keys are gone."

  "I don't think I have them." Still a little drunk, Matt patted the front of his boyshorts, even though he had no pockets.

  Vic watched, bemused, and saw that the breakaway crotch had been snapped back into place upside down. The material covered Matt's genitals, but only just. "You put that on wrong," Vic pointed out.

&n
bsp; Raising his arms, Matt asked sweetly, "Fix it for me?"

  With a look down the sidewalk to ensure no one watched them, Vic unsnapped the front of the boyshorts, turned the small pouch around, and popped it back into place. His hands slid into the front of the shorts to press the snaps together, his fingers brushing through kinked hair, and he promised his lover, "It's coming off again the moment we get back home, anyway."

  "If we get back," Matt said. "Where are the keys?"

  Vic closed his eyes and let his mind expand. It brushed over the men fooling around in the alley...one of them was watching, the bastard, and he'd gotten quite an eyeful when Vic had pulled open the front of Matt's shorts. He and his friend now hid at the edge of the building, waiting to see what might happen next. Ignoring them, Vic dipped back inside the club and mentally retraced his steps. From the bar to the dance floor to the bathroom...

  His keys winked on the floor beneath the sink, where they had fallen when he pulled down his pants. "They're still inside."

  Taking his lover's hand, he led the way back to the club. But when he reached the door, Matt pulled out of his grip. "I'll stay here." At Vic's quizzical look, he gave him a wide-eyed grin. "It's hot and noisy in there, Vic, and my stomach's a little upset. I'll wait right here, I promise."

  Vic glanced past him at the alley, but sensed the men there had resumed their frottage session. "You sure?"

  "Where else would I go?" Matt asked with a laugh. "I can't get in the car without the keys."

  The fact of the matter was, neither could Vic. Giving his lover one last kiss, he murmured, "Be right back." Then he ducked into the club, leaving Matt to wait outside.

  * * * *

  Matt leaned against the front of the club, the bricks that held him upright still warm from the late afternoon sun. His head felt heavy and clouded, and every few moments, he would start to doze. It grew harder and harder to keep his eyes open, and each blink threatened to drop him into a deep sleep. When his chin finally touched his chest, Matt felt a warm hand on his upper arm and he melted at the touch. ::Vic...::