...It felt like only a few minutes had passed when Bo knocked at the door and entered their old rehearsal space. How had an hour and a half gone by so quickly?
“I’ll just leave you two alone,” François said, bowing out of the room.
When he was gone, Bo closed the door and locked it. This was almost becoming a routine for them. An impish grin bled across Bo’s lips as he turned off the overbearing lights. The sun hadn’t quite set, but it was getting close. A dim orange haze flooded through the skylights, illuminating Bo’s path. He wandered over to the semi-circular ledge they’d used as the Blind Man’s Well in rehearsals. Charles smiled, and his cock jerked in his leather pants. Jean-Luc had insisted Golaud and Pelléas be costumed as Leather Daddy and leather boy, like gay superheroes. They had similar outfits, though Charles’s vest still had pins in it—he hadn’t let that wardrobe girl finish her job.
“I missed you,” Bo said, straddling Charles as he lay back on the ledge. Reaching up, Charles set his palm against the bulge in Bo’s leather pants and rubbed it. No fly or buttons in the front, just in back, and the leather was supple as butter. Bo’s cock responded immediately, and he rocked his hips against Charles’s hand, bending slightly at the knees. “Did you miss me?”
“I always miss you,” Charles said. “Every moment we’re not together I miss you.”
Bo leaned down until his palms rested on the ledge, one on either side of Charles’s head. With a short, teasing peck of a kiss, he said, “So come home with me. We’ll do all this on a bed, for once, instead of on set pieces.”
Still rubbing Bo’s erection, Charles swallowed hard. Why did they have to revisit this topic with such frequency? “I’m just afraid we’ll get carried away,” he said.
“We won’t.” Bo kissed him harder this time, shifting back, pressing his leather-clad cock against Charles. “Trust me.”
Christ, that sensation threw him for a loop! Planting his feet flat against the ledge, he lifted his ass up and rubbed back against Bo’s crotch. “I do trust you,” he murmured, breaking away from their kiss. “It’s me I don’t trust. I’ll want to do it, then as soon as it’s in I’ll regret it.”
Charles had tried it once before, anal sex, but the second the guy had pressed that fat dick head in his ass, he was screaming in agony. It hurt like hell, and he had to get it out. The guy had complied right away, but it was already too late. Charles had bled for days. It was the most excruciating pain he’d ever encountered…and that was just the tip! He loved cock. He craved it, but he would never allow himself to try it again. Sometimes it was better to be sensible...