“Why not now?”
“Because our last call day is tomorrow, there’s going to be a ton of shit to do, they’re bound to keep us there late, we have to leave the next day, and you’re gonna need a couple days to recover.” Victor’s voice had a husky quality that sent Andy right back to their first night. He lifted his leg off the barre and set his foot down, adjusting himself. Another glance over his shoulder, making eye contact, holding it as he turned around to rest both hands behind him on the barre. Knees together, feet beveled in those high heels, making his legs look as long as they possibly could. “Jesus, Andy.
You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
“I know what you want to do. You want to fuck me like a cabaret girl.”
“Goddamned right I do.” Victor walked over, taking his time, towel draped over his shoulder. He stopped less than arm’s length away from his husband. Head tipped back to keep that eye contact, because Andy in those heels was six inches taller than he was. He wanted Andy’s hand on his throat, on his cock. But first he wanted to see him come. He said so, and Andy’s whole body reacted. “You’re going to be on your back with those legs in the air and I’m going to fuck you so hard they’ll hear us in the street outside.”
“God almighty, Victor.” Andy was gripping the barre tightly, because his knees were a little weak. “I thought I was the one teasing you.”
“You are.” Victor moved in, put his mouth on the base of Andy’s throat where the necklace tattoo converged on the letter V. He ran his fingers up the inside of Andy’s thighs and heard his breath go out. “Maybe you should get another tattoo. Maybe you should have a whole line of these.” He unbuttoned the halter top, drew a fingertip from the V to Andy’s waist. Unbuttoned the waistband of the shorts, unzipped them, pushed them down. Put his hand on Andy, where his erection strained against the dance belt. Then unhooked the
garters and used both hands – it took both hands – to peel the dance belt off.
Andy stepped out of the shorts and the belt. Victor stood back enough to see him. The halter top hung open. The garter belt, stockings and shoes had him lightheaded. “Don’t you move,” he warned, and stepped back. He knew there was a camera in here, they’d taped the first run-through today. Andy stood obediently waiting, still gripping the barre, completely aroused. Victor found the camera, sitting on the counter of the kitchenette. He woke it up and said,
“I could make a million dollars from this picture.” Andy huffed out a laugh.
Victor took some pictures. Then he set the camera on the desk, positioning it with care, and crossed the room again. “I can’t decide,” he said. “Hand or mouth.”
“Jesus.”
“If I use my hand, I can kiss you.” Decision made, he stepped in, took Andy in his hand, and invited that kiss. Andy didn’t hesitate. Victor lost track of time. The kiss was so perfect he lost some concentration, too. But Andy was moving against his hand, he was vocalizing into Victor’s mouth. Victor dragged himself back to consciousness. “In my mouth.” He went to one knee, one hand on the barre beside Andy’s for balance, because Andy was really too tall for this at the moment, but it wasn’t going to take any time at all.
Now that cock was in his mouth and Andy’s body jerked.
“Oh God, Victor, fucking hell, goddammit.” He was trying to hold on, trying to make it last a little longer because it felt so good and it looked so good. But it was no use. Victor did something with his tongue and Andy lost it. When he opened his eyes, catching his breath, Victor still had him. Andy looked down and watched as his husband slowly, lingeringly released him.
Swallowing, catching the aftershock, smiling. He pulled himself to his feet, body tight against Andy’s. Andy kissed him again, tasting himself. Finally took one hand off the barre and put it on Victor. “You’re not done yet.”
“I’m never done with you.”
“What do you want, baby. You want some of that? My mouth?” Andy’s voice was low. His lips brushed Victor’s face.
“I can’t decide. You decide.”
Andy glanced over at the camera, a reflex. Now that he wasn’t half out of his mind, he realized the red recording light was on. He almost laughed, and made up his mind what to do. He unbuttoned and unzipped Victor’s pants, got a hand in there, heard the quick intake of breath. “Turn around,
catnip.” Victor did, leaning back against Andy’s chest. Andy kept that hand on him, knowing they were angled just right for the camera. He stroked slowly, making the most of it. He had a feeling they’d both be watching this from time to time. It was going to be so decadent. His naked flank and hip behind almost-fully-clothed Victor, a long fishnet-covered leg, and that glorious handful. He couldn’t wait to see it. “Now I know why you went commando today.”
Victor laughed breathlessly. “When we came up here this wasn’t the plan.”
“Oh no?” Andy kissed him. “You knew I’d be in costume. Showing you my legs.” One more kiss. “Teasing you.” His other hand was on Victor’s throat now. He never wondered why Victor liked this so much. It was the one overtly dominant thing Andy did, a thing he’d done on that first night without asking if it was okay. Victor had been startled, almost resistant. And then he’d surrendered. It’s no wonder I never got over him. Andy stroked down and up, cupping his jaw, turning his face for another kiss. “You and your perfect mouth. Your perfect cock. Wait till you see this. The whole world should see this. Oh, faster? You
