Copyright January 16, 2005
by Matthew Haldeman-Time
I am writing about men having sex with other men. You must be eighteen or older to read my fiction. This site is for consenting, responsible adults only.
Dallas was hot. He was so hot he only had one name, and so famous it didn’t even seem pretentious. His thick black hair was too long on top, inviting the touch of fingers. His dark gaze was filled with hot, liquid sex. His chiseled features gave him a strong, confident appearance, softened by the fullness of his mouth. His body was long and lean, not bulky but tight with defined musculature.
Ricky had lucked out with some good-looking guys before, but he’d never gotten near anyone quite that insanely gorgeous. But he was about to have his hands on Dallas’s perfectly sculpted body, because Travis had asked him to cover up Dallas’s tattoo.
Dallas only had one tattoo, an intricately designed D for his own initial, low on his right hip, within the lines of his pelvis. Usually it wasn’t seen, but for some of the shots Dallas was going to have the jeans riding extremely low and/or unbuttoned, so the tattoo was going to be exposed.
In the back of the make-up trailer, Ricky was quietly losing his mind, fiddling with his supplies, frantically trying to figure out what to say to the hottest man on the planet. What could he say? “Hi, I’m Ricky.” “Hello, how are you?” “I love your work.” “How was your flight in?” “Hi, I’m Ricky, and it’s my honor to serve you today.” Maybe it’d be better if he just shut his mouth and didn’t say anything. But he didn’t want to seem rude, and even if he sounded stupid he had to say something, because he couldn’t miss this opportunity to hold a conversation with the hottest man alive.
Travis walked into the trailer, and Ricky opened his mouth to ask a question. Then Dallas walked in, right behind Travis, and Ricky was speechless. The man was incredible. Ricky had never seen a more perfect specimen of male beauty. He was - - his face - - his body… Ricky just stood there with his jaw on the floor, staring. Travis was saying something, but with any luck Ricky wasn’t supposed to be listening, because he couldn’t hear a word.
Dallas took a seat in the make-up chair, thighs open and relaxed, naked from the waist up. When he tilted his head back slightly, his thick black hair fell away from his face, and Ricky almost moaned. Dallas was beautiful. The light was directly on his face, and there wasn’t an imperfection in sight. Dallas didn’t need make-up; Dallas needed a harem.
It was impossible not to want to throw Travis out of the trailer and take over. Ricky wanted to be the one working on that handsome face. Highlighting the sharp inclines of Dallas’s cheekbones. Brushing another layer of color over Dallas’s soft, pouting mouth. Drawing attention to those wide, dark, gorgeous eyes. Ricky burned with jealousy, ached with need, and tried not to completely panic at the knowledge that at any minute-
Travis stepped back.
Ricky didn’t hear anything that Travis said; the only thing he was consciously aware of was Dallas rising from the chair and nearing his end of the trailer. He watched Dallas move closer, feeling like he was lost in a dream. Dallas came to a stop right in front of him, casually posed, bracing one hand against the wall.
Ricky sank to his knees in front of Dallas. It seemed like it would be the most natural thing in the world to-
Ricky jerked himself back to reality, catching himself just in time. Jesus. He swallowed, forcing himself to get a grip. Clearing his throat, he reached up and took his box down from the counter, taking a moment to orient himself.
Professional. He was a professional. Dallas went through this every day. No big deal. No problem. Trying to smile naturally, Ricky raised his gaze. “Hi. I’m Ricky.” Oh, god, Dallas was gorgeous…
“Yeah, he said.” Dallas pushed his hair back with one hand.
Right. Slowly, Ricky lowered his gaze again, taking in every inch of, damn, Dallas’s pecs were perfectly defined, and his tight, hard nipples were a sweet shade of pink, and his abs were glorious. There wasn’t a trace of hair on his chest, and, oh… Ricky stared in fascination. He could just see the first hint of pubic hair, revealed by Dallas’s low-hanging jeans, the flat line of it that would then narrow down and sprout around the root of, god, he was inches from Dallas’s dick.
Ricky dragged his gaze to the side, where the dark ink of Dallas’s tattoo stood out boldly, low on one hip. Unconsciously, Ricky licked his lips. God, he wanted to touch this incredible man.
He was supposed to touch this incredible man.
He was being paid to touch this incredible man.
Oh, god, Ricky loved his life. He looked down just long enough to find the foam applicator and the right concealer. Taking a deep breath, he raised one shaking hand. “It might be a little cold,” he heard himself say, and then he was doing it, dabbing concealer on Dallas’s hip.
Conversation. He had to make conversation. He might never have this chance again. He was probably making a terrible impression, and he couldn’t let that happen. Not that Dallas would remember who the hell he was by the end of the day, but he wanted Dallas to walk out of this trailer, at least, with a positive image of him. “How was your flight?” Ricky asked. The question came out overly bright and he winced.
“It was okay.”
Ricky swallowed. Dallas had a low, casual voice with a hint of New York in it. He wanted to hear it again. “It’s pretty cold today. I hope you’re not too cold.” Great, he’d said “cold” twice, really showing off his vocabulary. Of course Dallas knew it was cold, Dallas was already cold, his nipples were so hard… Ricky’s gaze flashed up, unable not to look. God. Ricky wanted to warm them with his tongue.
“I’m used to it.”
Of course he was. Models always had to work half-naked in the cold, it happened all of the time. Stupid, he was just stupid. Ricky fumbled to find the right shade of base. He was going to have to blend carefully so that Dallas’s skin would look smooth and natural. “I like your tattoo.” When was he going to learn to shut up?
He was so boring it was probably offensive. Ricky knew that he should be moving faster, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t rush, he wanted to linger. Dallas’s skin was so perfect, Dallas’s body was so hot… He was so close to Dallas’s dick that his own dick ached, and his gaze kept flashing over to that flat line of hair, his fantasy spinning forth, his desire to open Dallas’s fly and feel Dallas’s hand cupping the back of his head, guiding him forward…
He wanted to stroke the lines of Dallas’s pelvis. With his tongue.
Anyone this hot had to have a gorgeous dick.
Ricky’s own dick was hard, and he was being as professional as possible, blotting and blending with the applicator, but the desire to touch, to use his own fingers to do the job, was too much. If he weren’t afraid of being fired, he’d risk it.
If Ricky’s boss would get out of the room, maybe Dallas could get somewhere with this. But he wasn’t going to make his move in front of witnesses. The last thing he needed was somebody accusing him of harassing people on the set. He was trying to keep a halfway decent reputation, and if he started flirting and Ricky got offended, he didn’t want anyone else around to see it and blow things out of proportion.
He sure was itching to try something, though.
Ricky glanced up at him, then down again, nervously. “I hope this isn’t taking too long. I’m trying to blend to the exact tone. You have great skin.”
“Want to find out how it tastes?” was the first response on his tongue, but Dallas caught himself and said, “Thanks,” instead. He was used to people admiring the way he looked, used to people wanting him, used to people hitting on him. It was so frequent it was pretty much a non-event. But he liked the way Ricky looked at him. That wasn’t nervousness trembling in Ricky’s hands, it was desire. Ricky wanted him.
Dallas smiled. Deliberately casual, moving slowly, he brought one hand to his fly and freed the button from the buttonhole. Ricky was staring at his hand, utterly still, frozen in place, eyes wide, lips parted. Oh, yeah, Ricky wanted it. Taking his other hand from the wall, Dallas tugged his jeans down just a little, just enough to expose another tantalizing inch of skin.
If anyone asked, he could explain that he was trying to give Ricky enough room to work with. What he really was doing was testing, to find out if Ricky wanted this as much as he did. The naked lust in Ricky’s eyes was more than enough of an answer.
It wouldn’t take more than a tug and Dallas’s jeans would be down, and he’d be able to focus his attention on Dallas’s dick. In his fantasy, he took Dallas’s dick in hand, pumping it gently, watching it come alive before his eyes. It hardened rapidly against his palm, lengthening, growing deliciously thick. Mouth watering, Ricky wrapped his lips around the mushroom head, licking eagerly, working his hand over the shaft. The head wasn’t enough, he needed more, and he sucked more in, filling his mouth with the hard flesh.
Ricky scrambled to his feet, almost stumbling as Dallas pushed him back against the trailer wall and kissed him. Stunned, moaning, Ricky latched on, eagerly kissing back, groaning with pleasure when Dallas’s hands started skimming his body. Dallas’s jeans were gone, Ricky’s own clothes were gone, they were just naked skin to naked skin, burning hot where their bodies touched despite the cold outside.
He stroked Dallas’s incredible body, tracing lines of bone and muscle, caressing skin as pure as silk. The tight curves of Dallas’s ass were perfect in his hands, and when he buried his fingers in thick, black hair, Dallas moaned into their kiss and worked a hand between his thighs, cupping his balls before moving backward, pressing two fingers to his tight asshole. Ricky spread his thighs, moaning, acquiescing.
His dick was so hard he couldn’t wait for it and he plunged in fast, burying his erection in Ricky’s hot, welcoming ass. It felt so good he groaned, raking his teeth across Ricky’s shoulder, while Ricky panted and made urgent, wanting sounds. It wasn’t enough for either of them and he thrust in again, again, picking up a harsh rhythm, slamming in again and again, wanting it, needing it, fucking hard, squeezing Ricky’s hips in greedy hands.
Ricky was moaning it, crying out, saying his name and begging him for more. Dallas was starting to get lost in the steady throb of it, and Ricky was starting to jack himself off, fisting himself furiously, still pleading, still wanting it. Dallas fucked him harder, going faster, faster, thrusting into Ricky’s ass like there couldn’t ever be enough.
Ricky came first, yelling Dallas’s name and splattering the wall with cum. Dallas stroked his naked body with hungry, lusting hands, and he moaned weakly with each thrust, leaning back against Dallas’s chest. Dallas held him close, fucking him through the aftershocks of orgasm, right on the edge of it, right there on the edge, right-
Dallas came, groaning the walls down, emptying his balls in long, thick spurts. He buried his face in Ricky’s neck and wrapped his arms around Ricky’s chest, not sure who was holding up whom anymore.
“Ricky!” Travis said sharply, and Ricky was yanked from his fantasy, shocked back into reality. Startled, he blinked rapidly, making sure that he hadn’t started doing anything crazy, like licking that immaculate strip of skin just above - - Jesus, whoa, he had to get a grip, he had to keep it together. Swallowing, Ricky set down the foam applicator and sat back on his heels.
Forcing his gaze upward, he met Dallas’s eyes. “I’m finished,” he said, his voice quiet but at least not shaking.
Dallas was looking down at him with an expression he couldn’t read. Slowly, Dallas held out a hand.
Ricky took it, not sure whether Dallas wanted to shake hands or what. But Dallas tugged, so Ricky let himself be pulled to his feet, praying that by some miracle no one would notice his obvious hard-on. He wasn’t quite as tall as Dallas was, but they were standing so close to each other it made him a little dizzy, and Dallas hadn’t let go of his hand yet. He gazed into Dallas’s eyes, not knowing why Dallas wasn’t just turning away but seizing the moment to soak up as much of the fantasy as he could.
“Thank you,” Dallas said. His voice was soft, like it was just for Ricky’s ears alone, and he was looking into Ricky’s eyes like, like…
God, Ricky wanted him. “You’re welcome,” Ricky said, his voice coming out a lot breathier than he’d intended.
Dallas released his hand, and Ricky braced himself, knowing that Dallas was about to leave and he might never be this close again. But then Dallas’s hand rose, cupping his chin, and Ricky froze in place, not sure what was happening, begging it not to stop.
“If I mess up my make-up out there,” Dallas said, voice low, gaze intimate, body so close Ricky could feel it, “and I come back here, can you fix it for me?”
There was no air in Ricky’s lungs, but he managed a vague, “Unh-hunh.”
“Good,” Dallas murmured, and gave him a warm, private smile. Dallas’s hand dropped, and Dallas turned his back to Ricky, walking away with a calm, confident stride.