Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 2

stiff now, arching up at the tip. Jules moved so that his balls pressed against the rim of Mark's hole.
    "Oh, God. Fuck me," Mark whispered.
    "Are you going to be my guy?"
    "You know I am. I already am."
    Jules reached for the condom packet, tore it open and rolled the latex onto his cock. He squeezed a little lube from the other sachet and spread it over the sheath, leaning forward to shelter it from the falling water. Then with no further preparation he positioned the head against Mark's hole, lingered there a moment letting his tip and Mark's rim excite each other, and pushed inside.
    Mark drew his breath in sharply as his arse swallowed the head of Jules's cock. He was tight and Jules took it slow at first to give him time to loosen up, making almost imperceptible movements back and forth that left his cock buried a little deeper each time. Finally his hips met Mark's flesh. He was all the way in.
    Mark was breathing hard now but the ring gripping Jules's cock had begun to relax. Jules bit down on Mark's shoulder. He pulled his shaft back and Mark gave a needy moan. Jules grunted in response as he sank his cock in deep again and began to plough Mark's arse rhythmically.
    He reached for Mark's cock and began to stroke it, though almost all of his awareness was centered on the grip of the ring around his cock, the stimulation of the sensitive tip against Mark's inner walls and the tide of pleasure that was rising in his own groin. He thrust faster and more forcefully as Mark, wanting to be fucked harder and harder now, leaned forward against the tiled wall and arched his back so that Jules could slam into him right to the hilt.
    Jules was scarcely aware of his own animal groans but he heard Mark cry out as an early contraction rippled through his body. Jules pounded him faster as Mark's hand closed over Jules's on his cock and took it to the speed and intensity that he needed. In a moment Jules reached the peak and was tossed among the stars, his cock spurting into its sheath, waves of pleasure making his whole body tremble. He pulled out, causing one last spasm, and the withdrawal of his hot, still-hard cock sent Mark over the edge into his own paradise.
    Jules let the condom flop onto the shower floor and turned off the water. They sank down to their knees together in the sudden silence and stayed there, motionless, in a tangle of limbs.
    Finally Mark shivered and said, "What happened to that coffee?"
    "It's ready."
    "Lead me to it. And then let's go and bring home Baby Bird."
     
    THE END
    Author bio: Megan Reddaway has been writing irregularly since she was a child. Her first success (as her mother is fond of reminding her) was a poem about horses, published in a children's magazine when she was nine years old, but she soon abandoned poetry for fiction. She has had many jobs including secretary, driver, waitress and flower-seller, and now makes her living from freelance non-fiction writing.
    Other works:
    The Luck of the Irish
    Contact info:
    Goodreads
    Website
    ****

BY DESIGN
    by Kate Islay

    Front view of a man in a white dress shirt, matching grey vest and dress pants, and shiny black dress shoes. His legs are spread wide as he leans back in an office chair. His head is turned to the right, his chin resting on his right hand as he stares out of a wall of windows, lost in his thoughts.

    Dear Author,
    I came in to get his signature on a couple of documents and there he was in his comfy office chair just staring out the window. I've caught him just lost in his thoughts like this more than once.
    He's higher up in the company and I've always admired him. We're not close friends by any stretch of my imagination but when he's just tuned out like this, I can't help but wonder what he's thinking about.
    Is there something going on with the company that's caused him to have such a serious look on his face? Or is it someone in his life that he's concerned about?
    Can I hope the someone he's thinking about is me? Then again maybe this is just wishful thinking on my part.
    But a guy can hope though... right?
    Sincerely,
    Gabrielle

    genre: contemporary
    tags: architecture; first time; age gap; office romance
    word count: 8,001
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    BY DESIGN
    by Kate Islay
    Connor runs the same route every morning, past the library and down to Logan Square, then further south into the city. In high school they'd turn up the Boulevard and do the Rocky steps in front of the Art Museum— back then