Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 9

Michael hard and ground against his ass trying to get even farther. With a primal scream, he came. When the last pulse of come left his body, he gently released Michael's legs and laid himself in the cradle of his thighs. The warm stickiness he felt on his stomach let him know that he wasn't the only one who enjoyed the rough, frantic, I've-missed-you-so-much kind of sex.
    The sensation of being bounced brought Cole to life. He heard a light chuckle coming from Michael and raised his head to look at him. He was smiling like a kid on Christmas morning when he asked, "Needed that, huh?"
    "Goddamn. You have no idea! Those feet of yours put me over the edge. Serves you right for teasing me with them all the time." Cole was surprised to find that Michael hadn't forgotten or tried to ignore his fetish. In fact, he brazenly encouraged it, often sending Cole photos of his feet that ranged from erotic to bizarre. One of Cole's favorites was a picture of the bottoms of Michael's toes, each one had a sad face drawn on it with a marker. On the ball of his foot he had written, "The five little piggies miss their big bad wolf."
    "You know you like it when I tease you. Besides, it serves you right. Speaking of the little piggies who cry wee, I can't see that fucking Geico commercial without getting hard. That's rather uncomfortable when I'm sitting on the couch next to my mom."
    "That is pretty horrible. I guess we're even then." Cole got up and went to the bathroom to clean up and bring a warm rag to Michael. "So, now that we've gotten that out of the way, what would you like to do today? I didn't really make any plans. Figured we would play it by ear."
    Michael thought for a moment. "To be honest, I can't think of anything I'd rather do than stay right here with you. Naked. Hope you don't mind. I just…. It's been a long three months, and I want some time to just be alone with you."
    "I don't mind at all. Sounds like an excellent plan. Especially the naked part. I stocked up on groceries so we can eat here tonight. You can explore while I cook."
    "Cool. I'll go on a scavenger hunt for your porn stash," Michael joked.
    "Oh. That's easy. It's on the shelf in the living room with the rest of my movies."
    "God," Michael covered his face with his hands, "my mom would freak if I put my porn in the living room!"
    "Well" Cole snuggled up against his side "That's the beauty of living on your own. I made this space mine, and if you're here, and you don't approve, than you can fucking leave. I refuse to be something I'm not."
    Michael wasn't sure what had just happened, but Cole's anger was palpable, his body tense. He hated whatever it was that haunted Cole, and wished he knew how to help. "I understand, and that's one of the things I like about you. It takes a strong person to be so open."
    "Yeah. Sorry. Didn't mean to get all heavy on you. And thanks, but I like your kind of strength. Always so kind and thoughtful of others."
    Michael knew Cole was deflecting, trying to ignore what he had said. He didn't want to start their week together off tense and uncomfortable, but he wasn't going to let Cole get away with it either. He pulled Cole's face up to his and kissed him gently, coaxing him to open up to him. "Someday, Cole, you're going to have to tell me what happened to you. I want to know, and I hope you can find a way to trust me with it."
    "Yeah," Cole sighed, "maybe someday. But not today. Today you're here, and I just want to enjoy it. Now, let's get you unpacked and settled in, and see what we can do about dinner."
    ****
    Cole was making a Mediterranean steak and spicy shrimp dish for dinner. He had learned Michael loved to eat. He loved to try new and exotic foods. He liked his steak medium-rare, and thought hot and spicy were a food group. His favorite meals were the ones that made him sweat. It was amazing how much you could learn about a person when talking was your only option.
    Cole had been practicing cooking recipes he thought Michael would like. He was a great baker but a mediocre cook. It had been a useful way for him to pass the time these last few weeks. He not only wanted to impress Michael, but he wanted to show him that he had been listening. He had even special-ordered some Trinidad Moruga Scorpion peppers, which were supposed to be the hottest in the world.
    "Stop that," he smacked Michael's hand as he tried again to snatch one of the red peppers he was busy chopping. "You're distracting me," he whined. It was bad