Two Pillars Position

THE POSITIONS OF LOVE, BOOK II: TWO PILLARS POSITION …A hand eased between his legs, fingers curving between his buttocks. Caught off guard, Vic stumbled into the wall of the shower, his lover’s name on his lips. “Matt,” he sighed, a sound lost as the shower curtain was pulled open, then closed. With one hand smoothing along the cleft of Vic’s ass, Matt pressed his chest against his lover’s back and kissed Vic’s shoulder. “You looking for me?” he purred. Vic arched his back to push his buttocks against Matt’s crotch. He felt his lover’s own erection strain the slick Lycra of his swim briefs. Moving his hips, Vic rubbed back into Matt, his buttocks clenched as that sheathed cock slid between them. Still hugging the wall, he turned his head, mouth open, eyes shut at the sensations that rose in him at his lover’s touch. Matt’s next kiss landed on his lips, his warm tongue possessive, eager. Matt’s arms wrapped around Vic’s body, one high across his chest, the other angling for his dick. Gentle fingers smoothed over his soapy balls, fondling them, then stroked beneath Vic’s length slowly, petting him. Another touch tickled his right nipple, plucking it, teasing it erect. The shower rained down around them, and the water seemed to sizzle with their lust. When Matt began to trail kisses along his lover’s jaw line, Vic growled, “Take off those damn Speedos and fuck me already.”

“You’re so romantic,” Matt teased as he leaned against Vic, his arms tightening around Vic’s waist. Only those wet briefs kept them apart. “Romance later,” Vic promised. “But I gotta get to work. Fuck me now.”

ALSO BY J. M. SNYDER Beneath A Yankee Sky Crushed Matching Tats Persistence of Memory The Powers of Love Under A Confederate Moon The Positions Of Love Book I: The Positions Of Love Book II: Two Pillars Position Book III: Clasping Position

THE POSITIONS OF LOVE BOOK II

TWO PILLARS POSITION

BY J. M. SNYDER

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

TWO PILLARS POSITION AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2008 by J. M. Snyder ISBN 978-1-60272-185-2 Cover Art © 2008 Trace Edward Zaber

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PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

TWO PILLARS POSITION

TWO PILLARS POSITION Swim instructor Matt diLorenzo sat at his desk, which fronted a large window overlooking the Olympic-sized pool in the gym where he worked. It was late January—outside, wintry wind swirled flakes of snow through the city streets of Richmond, causing pedestrians to huddle down in their coats to ward off the chill. This time of the year was not a busy one for Matt at work; he managed to catch up on all the paperwork that accumulated over the summer because quite simply, not many felt much like swimming in the winter. Oh, there were the die-hards, naturally, women and men on the gym’s swim team who showed up like clockwork to lap around the pool, but they usually didn’t wander in until after noon. At nine1

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thirty in the morning, the only sounds Matt could hear were the heat clicking on and a steady drip echoing off the tiled floors of the locker room behind him. He’d have to check that out later. As he bent over the pool’s checkbook, ready to pay an invoice to the chemicals company for their most recent shipment of chlorine, Matt felt a warmth trickle into his mind and quickly filter down through the rest of his body. A familiar presence filled his thoughts, and he felt as though he were being caught in a loving embrace. ::Hey there, sexy.:: Smiling to himself, Matt let his eyes shut as he savored his lover Vic Braunson’s mental touch. ::Hey, yourself.:: In his mind’s eye, he could see his lover; he thought the man beautiful. But then again, he knew the real Vic, the one hidden beneath the shaved head, the multiple piercings, the thick muscles rippling with tattoos. Most people saw Vic and crossed to the other side of the street—he had a constant glower that deterred any attempts at friendliness, and he could drop a man with a snarl and a hard, level stare. Despite that, something about him had triggered Matt’s attention the first time he saw Vic, in this very gym, in the weight room where his lover was at the moment working out. His gaze had glanced around the room, then swiveled back to study the chiseled bulk of manhood personified in Vic’s muscular body. That double glance made Vic notice him. There wasn’t a day Matt didn’t thank God for making him look twice. He and Vic shared a deeper connection than most lovers— they could communicate telepathically, which meant nothing 2

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stood between them. The telepathy was only one of a number of super powers that stemmed from Matt’s semen, which imbued Vic with a variety of comic book abilities whenever they made love. Their mental connection and Vic’s superhuman strength were the only powers Matt liked; the others, which changed depending upon their positions during sex, flared brightest immediately after the deed, but eventually wore off. Matt vacillated between wanting to love his man without worrying about the powers, and wanting to protect Vic from them. Some of the abilities Matt gave Vic were comical, like the time he turned invisible—every time he undressed, he seemed to disappear. But some were downright dangerous, putting Vic in harm’s way. If anything ever happened to him, Matt would never forgive himself. But he also didn’t want to give up their psychic bond. Projecting his thoughts to his lover, Matt asked, ::Where are you at, big guy?:: ::Weight room,:: came the gruff reply. Matt felt strength flood his body as Vic’s muscles flexed. A glance at the clock on his desk showed it was still early; Matt hadn’t expected to see Vic again so soon. Earlier that morning, he’d teased his lover with quick kisses over Vic’s bald scalp and danced out of reach when Vic tried to catch him in a tight embrace. The man was not a morning person, a fact Matt found insanely cute. When he’d finally let himself be caught, it was for a long, lingering kiss, this one on his lover’s lips, as he sat in Vic’s lap and held him close. Matt’s last words to him had been, “See you tonight.” 3

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Then he’d left for the gym, and he assumed Vic went back to bed for another hour or two before he had to be at work. He drove a city bus, and his shift didn’t usually begin before noon. But sometimes, he liked to head down to the gym to bench a few thousand pounds, put the other weight-lifters to shame. Even without his super strength, he could best most of the men who frequented the weight room. Matt’s telepathic ability didn’t reach very far, but with Vic in the same building, he could easily speak to his lover mentally. ::You didn’t tell me you were coming down here.:: ::You didn’t ask,:: Vic countered. Matt grinned as he returned to his checkbook. ::Since when do I have to ask? You coming over to see me before you leave?:: Before Vic could reply, Matt pointed out, ::See? I asked nicely that time.:: ::We’ll see.:: Now Matt laughed out loud. ::Oh, no, mister,:: he said. ::If you don’t stop by the pool on your way out, I’m coming up to the weight room and taking you right there on the bench, you hear me? I need you.:: He felt Vic’s smile like a slow burn simmering in his mind. ::How can I say no to that?:: Matt glanced at the clock again, then formed a mental image of it in his mind. Fast-forwarding the numbers to a half hour in the future, he sent the image to Vic and told him, ::You have thirty minutes. Then I want to see you in my office.:: ::I’ll be hot and sweaty,:: Vic pointed out. Thinking of the small locker room off his office, and the 4

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showers beyond that, Matt said, ::You’re getting me hot and sweaty. Nothing a quick shower can’t cure. You, me, a tight, wet shower stall…what do you say?:: He felt more than heard Vic’s grunted laugh. ::I’m so there.:: *

*

*

In the weight room, Vic lifted his usual thousand pounds without breaking a sweat. A small crowd had gathered around his bench, calling out encouragement he didn’t need. The barbell felt light in his hands, insubstantial. Ever since he’d discovered Matty’s gift of super strength, Vic had been after the gym to order another set of weights—something heavier this time, something to let him really feel the burn. A mere thousand pounds no longer cut it. Lowering the barbell to his chest, Vic called out, “All right, boys. Let me have it.” Four men advanced on his bench, muscles flexing through ripped shirts, hands curled into fists like wrecking balls. Flanking Vic on either side, two of the guys laced their fingers together over the top of the weights at either end of the barbell. They pushed down on the weights, as hard as they could. The other two guys skirted the bench to stand behind him, and pushed down on the bar that cut across Vic’s chest. Vic shoved against their combined force, straining to raise the bar. A Herculean growl escaped his throat as he succeeded in lifting the metal off his chest; the men struggled in vain to hold it down as Vic extended his arms. He pumped the barbell 5

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once, twice, three times, feeling the feeble resistance that tried to pin him down. The next time he lowered the barbell, the men fell away, rubbing the feeling back into their hands and wrists, the muscles in their arms on fire. “Jesus, Vic,” one of them gasped. “That’s fucking inhuman.” A quick, derogatory laugh came from the back of the crowd. Like a splash of cold water, it froze the moment. The men closest to Vic stared at him, eyes wide, as if waiting for his response to the laugh. In the quiet that followed, someone muttered, “That ain’t nothing.” As he sat up, Vic hefted the barbell in both hands, all thousand pounds. “You don’t think so?” he asked. He was intimidating—his shaved head gleamed with sweat, and the lights above winked off the silver piercings he wore in his eyebrow and ears. His thick, bulky arms were heavily inked, black tattoos slithering over his skin like snakes when he flexed. His eyes were hard, demanding, his mouth pulled down into a harsh frown accentuated by the trim, devilish goatee that framed it. He looked like a mean motherfucker, and most men left him alone. The crowd parted before him, singling out the sole dissenter. The guy was young, early twenties, and built like a linebacker. He took a look around and, finding himself alone, straightened his back, raised his head, and jutted his jaw out at Vic. “It’s a scam,” he said. He glared around at the other men in the crowd, daring anyone to contradict him. “It has to be.” Vic gave the barbell a quick toss into the air; it jumped a 6

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few inches, the weights clinking together, then settled back into Vic’s hands. He did it again, harder this time, letting the barbell get some lift before he caught it. This happened from time to time—a new face appeared, accusing him of fraud, calling him names. He had an easy way to deal with it. “You try it then,” he challenged. When Vic tossed the barbell again, the man flinched, as if he expected the weight to come flying at him. But Vic caught it easily, then held it out at arm’s length like a peace offering. “Go on,” he said. “Take it.” A nervous snickering ran through the gathered crowd. Vic had to tamp down the sly grin that tugged at his lips—he knew what was coming. The man approached, hesitant, but when he was within reach of the barbell, he stuck out his hands and clasped them around the metal bar. “You got it?” Vic wanted to know. The man nodded. Vic let go. Gravity took over, dropping the barbell to the floor with a hollow thud that reverberated through them all. A hairline fracture appeared in the concrete floor beneath one heavy end. The man now bowed before Vic, his hands still holding onto the barbell, his mouth gaping as his back spasmed in pain. As the crowd began to laugh, Vic joked, “I thought you said you had it.” The man gritted his teeth but didn’t reply. Vic hadn’t thought him brave enough—or stupid enough—to do so. *

* 7

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Twenty minutes later, Vic put the weights away. This early on a January morning, few people lingered in the hallway that led to the pool. The double doors barring entrance to the pool area were shut, but not locked; Vic entered easily enough. Only one swimmer pulled himself through the still water— Matt. Vic’s sneakers squealed on the tiles as he approached the shallow end, near the starting blocks used by the swim team. ::Guess who?:: he teased silently. ::Finally.:: In mid-stroke, Matt dove beneath the water, somersaulted against the bottom of the pool, and reversed direction to swim back toward Vic. Hunkering down, Vic watched his lover glide through the water with the ease of a merman. In no time, he had crossed the length of the pool and caught the edge of the shallow end in both hands to push himself up from the water. “Hey, big boy,” he purred, puckering his lips to blow Vic a kiss. Vic leaned close and touched his mouth to Matt’s. His lover smelled of chlorine, a summery scent, and his lips tasted cool from the pool. Water ran down his bare shoulders and narrow chest, and dripped from the black curls that crowned his head. As they kissed, Vic opened his eyes and saw Matt’s eyelashes clumped together into tiny spikes. Then one of Matt’s eyes opened, a dark green like malachite, and he started to snicker. “You’re peeking,” Matt murmured. Vic replied, “I like what I see.” Matt grinned. “Give me like another three laps here. Then 8

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I’ll really give you something to look at.” “You show me yours,” Vic teased, “I’ll show you mine.” In response, Matt caught Vic’s lower lip between his teeth and sucked on it. “Come in the water.” Vic laughed. “Won’t that be messy?” Matt dropped into the pool, his hands slapping the water to splash Vic. “I meant swim,” he said, splashing Vic again. Quickly Vic stepped back from the pool’s edge, out of reach. “I’m gonna hit the shower,” he told Matt. “I need to get to work.” Swimming to the edge again, Matt pushed himself up for one last kiss—Vic bent down to comply. Then Matt fell back to the water with a splash that slapped the concrete flooring and covered Vic with spray. As he worked his arms in a quick backstroke, he called out, “See you soon.” For a moment Vic watched Matt swim. It still astounded him sometimes that a man such as Matty could love a lug such as himself. You’re a lucky son of a bitch, Vic. But he didn’t have to tell himself that—he already knew. Turning his back on the pool, he headed for the open door to Matt’s administrative office. A large window made up one wall; in front of it sat Matt’s desk and chair. Beside that was a file cabinet whose drawers Vic knew looked like a paper explosion inside—Matt wasn’t much for filing. Depositing his gym bag onto Matt’s chair, Vic glanced at the clock on the desk, which read quarter to eleven. He had to be dressed and in the car by eleven thirty if he hoped to make it across town and south of the James River in time for work. 9

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Off to one side of Matt’s office was a swinging door that led to a small set of lockers, a bathroom, and a few shower stalls. This wasn’t the public locker room, but a private area for the pool staff. Stripping off his tank top, damp with sweat, Vic pushed through the door and dropped his shirt on the first bench he came to. There he stepped out of his sneakers, tugged off his socks, and pulled down his sweat pants and jock strap together in one smooth motion. Leaving the clothes piled by the lockers, he grabbed a clean towel from those folded on a shelf near the bathroom and headed for the showers. Three separate stalls ran in a line off the locker room, each hidden by a thin plastic curtain. A wooden bench lined the wall opposite the showers; it was here Vic left the towel. Reaching past the curtain into the middle stall, he turned the faucet knob all the way to the left—water shot from the showerhead to beat against the plastic curtain. After a moment, steam began to rise from the stall. Vic pushed past the curtain into the rush of hot water that pounded down over his head and shoulders. Closing his eyes, he raised his face into the spray and let it wash away the sweat, his burning muscles, all emotion. Because these showers weren’t for general use, the employees kept personal effects in them. The middle stall was Matt’s. A bottle of his favorite shampoo sat on a shelf, along with the blue bath loofah that had been among the gifts Vic had given him for Christmas. Using the shampoo as soap, Vic lathered the loofah, then began to lather his body. He moved briskly, rubbing over his skin with rough 10

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strokes. When Matt climbed out of the pool, Vic sensed his movements, though his lover blocked his thoughts. Even without reading his mind, Vic knew Matt planned to join him, closing himself off in an attempt to sneak up on his telepathic lover. With bare feet, Vic would never hear him approach over the sound of the shower. A slow smile spread across his face as he lathered his chest. ::Where you at, Matty?:: No reply. Vic rubbed down over his shaved groin, gasping when the loofah scratched along his heavy cock. It was an almost painful sensation, but Vic fisted himself through the loofah and thrust into it, his fingers massaging his balls as he soaped up. He lingered long enough to get aroused, then ran the loofah down his legs. When he bent over, his hard dick bumped against his stomach, sending shivers of delight through his body. Then a hand eased between his legs, fingers curving between his buttocks. Caught off guard, Vic stumbled into the wall of the shower, his lover’s name on his lips. “Matt,” he sighed, a sound lost as the shower curtain was pulled open, then closed. With one hand smoothing along the cleft of Vic’s ass, Matt pressed his chest against his lover’s back and kissed Vic’s shoulder. “You looking for me?” he purred. Vic arched his back to push his buttocks against Matt’s crotch. He felt his lover’s own erection strain the slick Lycra of his swim briefs. Moving his hips, Vic rubbed back into Matt, his buttocks clenched as that sheathed cock slid between 11

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them. Still hugging the wall, he turned his head, mouth open, eyes shut at the sensations that rose in him at his lover’s touch. Matt’s next kiss landed on his lips, his warm tongue possessive, eager. Matt’s arms wrapped around Vic’s body, one high across his chest, the other angling for his dick. Gentle fingers smoothed over his soapy balls, fondling them, then stroked beneath Vic’s length slowly, petting him. Another touch tickled his right nipple, plucking it, teasing it erect. The shower rained down around them, and the water seemed to sizzle with their lust. When Matt began to trail kisses along his lover’s jaw line, Vic growled, “Take off those damn Speedos and fuck me already.” “You’re so romantic,” Matt teased as he leaned against Vic, his arms tightening around Vic’s waist. Only those wet briefs kept them apart. “Romance later,” Vic promised. “But I gotta get to work. Fuck me now.” Matt tweaked Vic’s nipple and sank his teeth into Vic’s shoulder. His hips bucked against Vic’s, his other hand stroking Vic’s hard length as he humped Vic’s backside. With a groan, Vic spread his legs farther apart and pushed back against Matty…he wanted to feel that thick shaft pierce his ass, he wanted the soapy burn of entry to trigger his orgasm, and he wanted to feel his lover deep within him, moving in an ancient rhythm that would wind them up into a frenzy of pleasure before leaving them, satiated, in a heated rush. ::If those briefs don’t come off in a minute…:: 12

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His thoughts drifted away as he sensed another presence with them. “Or what?” Matt asked with a grin Vic felt against his shoulder. He half-turned, his libido on hold. “Shh.” Instantly, Matt’s hands froze on Vic’s body, and his voice dropped to a whisper Vic could barely hear over the shower. “What is it?” Vic reached out with his mind—he sensed Matt’s consciousness, then broadened his range. Beyond the showers, into the locker room, into Matt’s office…there. Another person had entered the pool area. With the briefest glance at the visitor’s unsuspecting thoughts, Vic recognized Roxie, the gym’s receptionist, who usually sat at the front desk immediately inside the gym’s entrance. She held a fistful of phone messages, and had come down to the pool on her smoke break to deliver them to Matt. A gentle squeeze on his cock brought Vic’s mind back to the shower. “Vic?” Matt murmured in his ear. He hugged Vic tight against him. “What is it? What’s wrong?” “Roxie.” Vic ran a hand down his face to wipe the water from his eyes. “She’s in your office, looking for you.” Matt laid his head on Vic’s shoulder and sighed. “Fuck. I’m just getting started here.” “Then get rid of her,” Vic told him. He pushed back against Matt to get him moving. “Lock the door when she leaves so we won’t be disturbed again. I’ll wait.” Pressing his lips to Vic’s skin, Matt gave him a quick kiss. 13

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“You sure? You have to leave for work—” “Fuck work,” Vic muttered. “I ain’t leaving this shower until I get off. I ain’t getting off myself, and I ain’t getting off with her here. So…” “Get rid of her,” Matt said with a nod. “I hear you. I’m on it.” He released Vic, who shivered despite the hot water when his lover’s touch disappeared. As Matt tore back the shower curtain, a tendril of cool air snaked around Vic’s legs. He bent to retrieve the loofah from where it had fallen to the floor, then felt his lover’s hands on his hips again as Matt held him steady long enough to plant a kiss on Vic’s ample ass. He nipped at the spot, his teeth closing around Vic’s skin in a love bite. Then Matt smacked the other cheek. “Be right back,” he promised. Vic growled, “You better.” *

*

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Matt shook the water from his hair and shoulders as he exited the showers. Then he saw Roxie step into the locker room and he stopped. “Hey,” he called out. His hands smoothed away the water beaded on his arms and chest, then propped themselves on his hips in what he hoped to be a nonchalant gesture. “Roxie. What’s up?” A good ten years younger than him, Roxie was fresh from college and favored black eyeliner that gave her a catty appearance. She had long hair dyed fire-engine red that she usually wore pulled up in a ponytail, the bangs cut really short 14

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above her thick glasses. Her lipstick matched her hair, and her skin was a shade of pale pink that looked as if she’d never seen the sun. In a gym full of sweatpants and shorts, she easily stood out in her black T-shirt over a baby blue thermal shirt the same color as her eyes, a plaid mini-skirt that flounced when she walked, and clunky Doc Martin boots which always made Matt envision her trampling small children underfoot. Roxie was a no-nonsense kind of girl, a bit rough around the edges, but then again, look at Vic. Matt had a soft spot for people like that. Her boots thumped on the tile floor, and Matt was surprised the whole gym didn’t tremble beneath her heavy footfalls. “Matt, hey,” she said, popping the gum she chewed. She held out a hand full of little pink pieces of paper—phone messages—then noticed he was dripping wet and pulled them back. “What’s going on?” Matt shrugged. “Nothing. Those for me?” But when he reached for them, Roxie hid her hand behind her back. Her gaze traveled down his wet body to the bulge at the front of his swim briefs, then she craned her neck to see around Matt into the showers. “Vic here?” “What?” Matt laughed. God, she was observant. “Why do you say that?” With a nod at his crotch, she pointed out, “Either you’re happy to see me, or I interrupted your good time. And seeing how I’ve never been able to get that kind of rise out of you…” Raising her voice, she called out, “Hello, Vic!” Matt turned in time to see his lover’s arm stick out from 15

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the shower curtain. Vic waggled his fingers, then the hand disappeared. Into Matt’s head, Vic muttered, ::I can’t keep it up for long, Matty. Why’s she still here?:: “I am interrupting,” Roxie said, grinning. “I’m sorry.” She sounded anything but, and she made no move to go. “He needs to get to work,” Matt said. When Roxie didn’t get the hint, he added, “Soon.” Her eyes widened in understanding. “As in you want me to leave.” Matt gave her a disarming smile. “It would be nice.” She moved toward him; Matt held out his hand for the phone messages. But after she handed them over, she poked at the erection that distended the front of his briefs. Matt gasped—the touch was so unexpected, so sudden, that he almost came despite the hard nail that jabbed into his sensitive skin. He had to bite his lower lip to hold back, and Vic’s voice thundered in his mind. ::Oh no, she didn’t.:: ::Easy, babe,:: Matt replied. With a laugh, Roxie said, “You boys have fun.” Then she turned on her heel, her skirt swishing around her thighs, and was gone. Matt stood there for a moment, taking deep breaths, trying to get his libido under control. Out in the pool area, he heard the double doors squeal open, then shudder shut. From behind him, Vic called out, “Matty? She gone?” “Yeah.” Crossing the locker room, Matt drew the slide lock on the swinging door to ensure no more unwanted guests, then stopped at the pile of Vic’s discarded clothes to shuck off 16

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his briefs. The wet material clung to his damp skin and peeled away almost painfully, rolling down his legs to twist into the number eight on the floor. Released from its confines, his hard dick stood up from its bed of dark curls and he rubbed at it, an almost absentminded gesture. With a stop at his locker to retrieve a small bottle of lubricant, he headed back to the showers. He slicked his hands with the lube as he walked, then took a moment outside the shower to slather the silicone-based gel along his cock. An involuntary moan escaped his lips. On the other side of the shower curtain, Vic chuckled. “I thought we were going to do this together?” he called out. “Be right there,” Matt assured him. After squeezing another dollop of lube into his palms, he dropped the bottle on the bench beside Vic’s towel and stepped around the shower curtain into the stall. His lover’s back was to him as Vic rinsed the soap from his chest and arms. Before he could turn, Matt pressed his palm between Vic’s buttocks, rubbing the lube between his ass cheeks and lower, around his puckered anus. As Matt’s fingers rimmed trembling flesh, Vic lost all interest in washing the soap off his body—arching his back, he pressed his ass into Matt’s hand, rising up on his tiptoes and spreading his legs to allow Matt access. His hands gripped the short bar above the faucet, his head back, half-turned so Matt could see his eyes shut and mouth wide in lust. “God,” Vic growled. “Yes, Matty, yes.” Matt closed the distance between them. Moving his fingers out of the way, he guided his slick dick to Vic’s tight ass. He 17

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used his hands to splay his lover’s buttocks apart and watched his shaft disappear into Vic. He moved slowly, inch by inch, savoring the hot vise that encircled his length. Vic’s breath quickened and broke apart into shallow gasps, “Yes,” and “Matty,” and “yes, please, yes, yes.” His muscles tightened around Matt’s cock, drawing it in deeper, working it harder, bringing them together as one. When he was completely inside, Matt leaned against Vic’s back, his arms around his lover’s waist, his hands once again drawn to Vic’s genitals. He took Vic’s erection in one fist and fondled his balls in the other. His head rested on Vic’s damp shoulder, and the shower rained down around them like a summer storm, beating away the rest of the world. Everything disappeared except this moment, these bodies pressed together, their minds open and sharing the same sensations. Matt felt his dick deep within Vic as if it were in his own ass; Vic’s cock felt the same heated pressure of his own sphincter. They were one creature pleasuring itself, one heart in two bodies, one soul completed in love. Matt began to move his hips in a slow, circular motion. His dick pushed farther in, then eased out an inch or two, before sliding back into place like a piston. He worked Vic’s erection in his hands and breathed in the man’s clean, soapy scent as he lay against his back. He drew the pleasure out, keeping his movements measured and focused, taking his time. ::I love you,:: he thought, over and over again. Vic’s response was an overwhelming feeling of security and passion that only fueled Matt’s desire. 18

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Try as he might, he couldn’t hold back his climax forever. When he finally came, he hugged Vic to him tightly, and the force of his orgasm triggered Vic’s own. Then Vic was turning in his arms and Matt slid free from his lover only to find himself caught in a strong embrace. Vic leaned against the wall of the shower, his arms wrapped around Matt’s shoulders, his lips pressed hungrily to Matt’s own in a loving, lingering kiss that rekindled the spark simmering between them. *

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They soaped each other up and rinsed off in the shower. When they finally turned off the water, Vic wrapped his towel around Matt’s shoulders. As Vic rubbed his lover’s arms, Matt used the ends of the same towel to dry Vic. Before long they were laughing at themselves, hands tickling over damp skin, fingers curving into tender places, lips kissing any and everywhere. At one point, Matt nuzzled up against Vic’s chest, the towel again wrapped around him, and sighed. “You’re going to be late for work.” “I’ll call in,” Vic teased. “Tell them I’m busy.” “But I’ve got to get to work, too,” Matt reminded him. “Technically, I’m getting paid to do this, and somehow I doubt HR will like that much.” Reluctantly, Vic agreed. He followed Matt into the locker room, where he grabbed a second towel and dried himself properly. Matt cinched his towel around his waist, unlocked the door, and went into his office to retrieve Vic’s gym bag. As Vic dug out his uniform, Matt scooped up their gym 19

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clothes from the floor. “I’ll just throw these in with the towels,” he told Vic. “Let housekeeping wash them for us, what do you say?” Vic grunted, distracted. The first time he tried to pull his street shoes from his gym bag, nothing happened. He had them in his hand, he felt them, but when he extracted his hand from the bag, the shoes still sat at the bottom. It was as if he were one of those toy crane vending machines, the ones with a giant claw that closed over the toys easily enough but never seemed to snag any of them as a prize. He tried a second time, focusing his attention on the shoes—he pinched the sides, then slid his hand up until his forefinger and thumb butted beneath the front of the shoes, then lifted them again. This time, they stayed in his grip. As he dropped them to the floor, Matt kissed the top of Vic’s bald pate. “What’s wrong?” he asked on the way to his locker. Vic prodded one shoe with his foot; it moved an inch or two away from him, as he’d expected. “Nothing,” he muttered. He must’ve dropped the shoes the first time, that was all. They dressed quickly—Vic in his work uniform, which he had to shake free of wrinkles from being folded in his bag, and Matt in the clothes he’d worn to work, then hung in his locker when he went for a swim. Every time Matt bent over, pulling on his socks, stepping into his pants, he nudged Vic’s back, and Vic kept reaching behind him to run a hand down his lover’s hairy leg. “Next time,” Matt suggested, “we should do it in the pool.” 20

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Vic pointed out, “You’ll have to clean the water—” “I don’t care.” Matt turned and wrapped his arms around Vic’s neck, kissing his cheek with a loud smack. “You’re worth it.” As Matt stood, his arms seemed to pull through Vic’s body instead of sliding over his shoulders. Vic turned to frown up at Matt—by the confusion on his lover’s face, he knew he hadn’t imagined that. “What the hell?” Matt asked. He reached out and touched the top of Vic’s head, but it seemed solid enough. “Vic…” “I noticed it, too.” Vic ran a hand over his scalp, his fingers brushing Matt’s aside. “The last time we had sex in the shower—remember? I could fly. Same position, wasn’t it?” Matt shrugged. “Not really. I mean, yeah, in essence it was the same, but it didn’t feel the same, you know? That had been sort of a wild fuck, if you remember. It was late at night, and we were both a little drunk, and you kept telling me harder, harder.” The memory welled in both their minds simultaneously, and Vic grinned. It had been wild. When they had turned off the shower, the curtain was half pulled off the shower rod, the bathroom floor was flooded, and someone in the apartment downstairs was banging on the ceiling with a broomstick. “Yeah,” Vic said. “God, our neighbors thought we were killing each other.” By the time the police arrived, Matt was already passed out on the bed, and Vic had had to use his telepathic ability to convince them his lover wasn’t dead. But Matt was right—this time had been different. His hand 21

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trailed around the nape of Vic’s neck, a gentle touch. “More intimate, I think, don’t you? Maybe it was different enough you’ll get something else this time.” Sinking down to the bench beside Vic, he leaned against his lover’s stocky shoulder and grinned. “Can I tell you I got it from that book I gave you?” Vic gave him an incredulous look. “The Kama Sutra?” The book had been a Christmas gift from Matt, and if Vic were completely honest, he hadn’t looked at it much since then. The pictures bordered on gay porn, which he had no problem with, but now that he had a lover like Matt in his life, he didn’t need dirty magazines or sex toys to turn him on. Just waking up beside the man every day did that. And the first position they’d ever tried from the book left Vic with a surfeit of static electricity in his body, which he discharged at random whenever he touched anything…or anybody. Matt had laughed at the power, until Vic tried to touch his crotch and shocked his dick. The book now sat on Vic’s bedside table, unopened since the day after Christmas when he’d written “Static” on the table of contents beside the Yawning Position. He hadn’t thought Matt had looked at it, either. Picking up on that thought, Matt admitted, “I haven’t looked at it since I gave it to you. But I read it before I wrapped it. There’s a position in there called Two Pillars, and the book suggests that whole not pulling out, motion of the hips thing.” He kissed Vic’s shoulder and grinned. “You liked?” 22

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“Oh yeah,” Vic said. Maybe he should give that book another chance. *

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By 11:35, Matt was back at his desk, the pool beyond his window once again still and empty. Vic was in the locker room, fiddling with the buttons on his work shirt. “You’re going to be late!” Matt called out for the second time. In his mind, his lover grumbled. ::These damn buttons…:: ::I’ll do them for you,:: Matt suggested. ::Just get out here already.:: He heard the soles of Vic’s shoes squeal off the tiled floor in the locker room and looked up at the swinging door, a smile already on his face. Vic hated being late for work. Through the small window high in the door, Matt saw his lover’s gruff visage frowning as he approached… And suddenly Vic passed through the door as if it weren’t even there. He stopped in Matt’s office and groaned. Matt started to snicker. “Where are your clothes?” Vic stood in front of the locker room door as naked as he had been in the shower. His hands were still in front of his chest, buttoning an imaginary button, but his clothing—the work uniform, his boxer briefs, his shoes—was gone. With a glance down at his nude body, Vic sighed. “Fuck.” Ignoring Matt’s giggles, he turned to push open the door, and his arm disappeared through it, instead. “What the hell kind of power is this?” he muttered. “Phasing,” Matt suggested. “You know, passing through 23

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solid objects. That’s why you couldn’t pick up the shoes earlier, and why my arms seemed to go right through you.” To test his theory, Matt crossed the office and tried to wrap his arms around Vic’s waist. They moved through his bulk like a knife through butter—Matt felt a faint tingling in his fingers, and then his hands ghosted through Vic’s back to touch Matt’s own stomach. “That tickles,” Vic admitted. He stepped aside as Matt opened the locker room door. There on the floor lay Vic’s clothes in a neat heap— though his body was insubstantial enough to pass through the door, his clothes had remained solid and stayed behind. “Well,” Matt started, trying not to laugh. “This isn’t going to work.” Even if Vic dressed again, with or without Matt’s help, and even if Matt walked with him to the parking lot, opening all the doors in his path and helping him into the car, how would he hold onto the steering wheel? Or get out of the car once he reached the bus garage? Somehow, Matt didn’t think his lover would want to step through the door of his car to stand stark naked in the parking lot where he worked. Behind him, Vic muttered, “Shit.” Matt caught his lower lip between his teeth to keep from laughing as he turned to look at his lover. The sight of Vic’s nude body seemed so incongruous here in his office. It was a moment Matt wouldn’t soon forget. With a heavy sigh, Vic crossed the room to Matt’s desk. “I’ll just have to call in. Fuck.” 24

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Matt waited until Vic’s hand closed through the phone receiver before he burst out laughing. “Oh God,” he cried, gasping for breath. “This is just…oh damn. It’s just priceless.” “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Vic growled. Gesturing at the phone, he asked, “Can you call for me? Or are you just going to stand there laughing? This is your fault, you know.” “I know.” Matt drew in a deep breath to calm himself, and still giggled a little. But he picked up the phone and began dialing the number for Vic’s work. As the line rang in his ear, he blew his lover a kiss. “I know it sucks for you, babe. But I get to sit here all day and look at your sexy naked body. Can’t say that upsets me much.” A slow grin relaxed Vic’s stern features. “If only you could touch me without going through me. Then we could at least get a different power.” “Who said we couldn’t try?” Matt wanted to know.

25

J. M. SNYDER

An author of gay erotic/romantic fiction, J. M. Snyder began self-publishing gay erotic fiction in 2002. Since then, Snyder has released several books in trade paperback format and has begun exploring the world of e-publishing, working with both Aspen Mountain Press and Amber Quill Press. Snyder’s highly erotic short gay fiction has been published online at Ruthie’s Club, Tit-Elation, Sticky Pen, and Amazon Shorts, as well as in anthologies by Aspen Mountain Press and Cleis Press. A full bibliography, as well as free fiction, book excerpts, purchasing information, and exclusive contests, can be found at: http://jmsnyder.net *

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Don’t miss The Positions Of Love, Book III: Clasping Position, by J. M. Snyder, available February 2008, at Amber-Allure.com! When Matt diLorenzo gives his lover, Vic Braunson, a copy of the Kama Sutra for Gay Men as a Christmas gift, they find it doubles as a handy reference guide to Vic's super powers.

All they have to do is test out the positions to see which one gives him what ability. It's Valentine's Day, and Matt's made reservations at an expensive steakhouse for he and Vic. But the intimate moment they share before leaving for dinner causes more sparks to fly than either of them expect.

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