Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Wednesday Briefs: Don't Look Back #17 (4.2)

Happy Hump Day! Welcome to the Wednesday Briefers' flash fiction. Little bits of fun, in stories that range from 500 to 1000 words, a great way to celebrate Wednesday!

Last week, as you'll recall, Marshall had a bad night, but Lee was there to hold him tight. This week, see what Lee has planned for him. Remember, this story contains mature themes, it isn't for everyone. Don't forget to see what the rest of the Briefers have done. Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!

Don't Look Back #17 (4.2)


When Marshall opened his eyes, he found the bedroom to be sunnier than usual. What the hell? Why hadn’t the alarm gone off at its normal time? He looked to Lee for answers, but the other side of the bed was empty. He felt the sheets. They were cool to the touch. Lee obviously hadn’t slept in quite as much as he had.

He rolled to a sitting position, set his feet on the floor, and yawned. He shouldn’t be tired if he’d slept in—accidentally or not. Then he remembered the reason he hadn’t slept very well. And he realized Lee had shut off the alarm to let him sleep in. His heart swelled, and he felt tears prickle his eyes. He swiped at them and took a deep breath.

Coffee. That’s what he needed. And Lee. Not in that order. After that he’d get to work at his computer.

He debated throwing on a pair of shorts, but decided against it. He’d get dressed after his shower. It wasn’t uncommon for both of them to run around in “the altogether” in the privacy of their home.  Marshall sure wasn’t about to complain about the chance to see Lee naked more often. And he didn’t hear Lee putting up a fuss, either.

 As he started down the stairs, Marshall inhaled deeply. The seductive smell of bacon filled the house. Oh man, Lee was making breakfast. He shivered in anticipation. Normally, breakfast was fast and easy. About the fanciest they got was toasting muffins or bread to go with their coffee. But when Lee was in the mood, he could cook up a breakfast that put most restaurants to shame.

Marshall couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that stretched from ear to ear as he approached the kitchen. This already promised to be a great day.

Lee stood at the stove, his back to Marshall, giving Marshall a full dead-on view of his magnificent backside. Mmm, what a sight first thing in the morning. Marshall’s cock twitched, blood rushing south in a hurry. Lee wore an apron, but that was all. The man was too smart to cook bacon without some protection for delicate parts that would object to being spattered with hot grease, tasty or otherwise.

Marshall padded silently up behind Lee, kissed one bare shoulder then the other, his hands cupping Lee’s ass.

“’Bout time you got up, sleepyhead,” Lee teased. But Marshall knew he wasn’t mad, especially since he pushed back against him, grinding his ass into Marshall’s growing erection.

“You shoulda woke me.” Marshall glanced at the stove and his mouth watered. Just what he’d hoped for—Lee’s famous bacon, eggs, cheese, peppers, and jalapeno breakfast. When he was a kid, Lee used to joke if this didn’t put hair on his chest, nothing would. Marshall would run to the bathroom after he ate and look in the mirror, hopeful to find the same dark chest hair Lee had, but the only thing that greeted him was bare, smooth flesh. Until he hit puberty, anyway. And even then, the hair was fine and red. But by then he didn’t mind as much.

Lee finished stirring and removed the large spoon from the skillet before he moved it to another burner and turned off the heat. “Untie this thing, willya?” he asked, and Marshall gladly complied.
 Lee removed the apron and slung it over one of the kitchen chairs. He pulled Marshall into his arms and kissed him gently. “I had an idea. I was thinking that after we eat, we can go out to the pond and do a little fishing. Weather’s supposed to be good. There’s nothing pressing for today that can’t wait until tomorrow. We can stop by the deli and pick up some of that cold fried chicken you like so much, get some sides to go with it. A cold twelve pack. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a terrific idea.” Just the kind of day to chase the frights away. He pressed closer to Lee, his hand snaking between them, attempting to snare Lee in its grasp. Lee caught the wandering hand and pulled it away with a grin.

“I thought… maybe, after breakfast?” Marshall suggested hopefully, but Lee was already shaking his head.

“Nope, not now.” At Marshall’s crestfallen expression, he added, “But bring the big blanket,” and Marshall smiled again. Even better. Lee wanted to make love outdoors. That was more than all right with Marshall.

“Roy’s gonna join us later, close to lunch time.”

Marshall wasn’t surprised. This was pretty much standard operating procedure after one of his bad nights. His two knights rallied around him and made everything all right. It had been this way ever since they rescued him and made sure she would never find him again. There had been more bad nights then, but Lee had been incredibly patient, and never complained—either about losing sleep or having to deal with Marshall. Those nights were fewer and farther apart now.

They sat down to eat, and Marshall was in heaven. Lee had made biscuits too, little buttermilk rascals, dripping in butter; they literally melted in his mouth.

“I’ll get the gear ready,” Marshall volunteered once he’d scraped his plate clean, rinsed it, and set it in the dishwasher. “What do you think—fly or bait?”

“Let’s take both, see which works better. Them bass can be tricky sons of bitches. We can run by Jose’s and pick up some bait on the way.” Jose lived down the road a little ways. During the summer he sold bait from a small stand in front of his house. Most of his customers were locals, but it was just a sideline to bring in extra income, and to keep his teenage son, Jesus, busy.

Marshall bent over and wrapped his arms about Lee’s neck, pressing their cheeks together. “You’re the best,” he murmured.

“Don’t forget that.” Lee swatted Marshall’s ass and grinned.

To be continued

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