Love Is Always Write Volume 4

in a bit."
    Shit.
    ****
    Nick stripped out of his work clothes, and while scrubbing away at his armpits with a baby wipe, he looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He wasn't bad for his age. His salt-and-pepper hairline was receding a little, but not too much, and it didn't really matter with an all over Grade 3 anyway.
    He tensed the muscles in his arms, not quite doing a body builder pose. He was a big guy, not really muscular, but firm enough. At least he didn't have a belly on him. He had Michelle to thank for that. The divorce had stripped him of any excess weight he'd been carrying. Although he'd drunk a lot, he'd barely eaten for months and that'd done the trick. And finally trying to get himself back on track had meant going to the gym too.
    And now he had something to show for it. A twenty-three-year-old coming round to fuck him senseless. He hoped.
    He grabbed another baby wipe and gave his bollocks a quick once over.
    ****
    There were no niceties, no polite greetings. As soon as Nick opened the door, Sam flung himself against Nick's large frame, kicking the door closed and shuffling him backwards into the hall, in a full-on sexy onslaught. Nick could get used to this.
    As they staggered into the lounge, Sam hooked a long leg under Nick's, a sneaky tackle that brought them both thudding down onto the carpet, with Sam's slim body on top. Nick arched his neck as Sam's toothpastey mouth planted cool kisses against it. Sam nuzzled right in, nipping at the skin with his teeth. He buried his face in Nick's neck, inhaling deeply before brushing his lips across Nick's cheek to finally find his mouth, allowing Nick to revel in the feel of the minty tongue thrusting against his.
    Sam moved his leg to straddle Nick, their jean-clad erections pressed together tightly. He rubbed himself hard against Nick's crotch, drawing a groan from Nick.
    "You like that?" Sam rasped out. He must have taken Nick's sharp whimper as a 'yes,' because he ground his hips roughly, increasing the friction between them.
    Sam grabbed the hem of Nick's tee shirt and yanked it up. His eyes lit up at the sight of the thick mat of curls covering Nick's chest. Sam ran his hands through it, twisting his fingers into the hair before leaning down to plant a sloppy, wet kiss against one of Nick's nipples. As he swirled his tongue around the hard nub, Nick arched his chest up towards Sam's eager mouth.
    Sam's hands reached down to Nick's waist to pull apart the buttons of his jeans.
    "Turn over," Sam growled.
    Hang on. This wasn't part of the game plan. But Nick didn't get a say in what the game plan was, so he did as he was told. Sam tugged Nick's jeans past his hips and shoved them down around his knees, leaving Nick helpless to move, except to awkwardly wriggle his naked arse about in the air.
    Nick heard a reassuring crinkling noise, and then stiffened as he felt the cold sensation of lube-slicked fingers at his entrance. He whimpered against the carpet at the heat as Sam's fingers pushed in. He hadn't done this in a while. But he'd better get used to the filling sensation. Sam wasn't slowing his pace as he fucked Nick with his fingers. Nick gave little moans at each teasing flicker against his prostate. He started to thrust his hips back against Sam's strokes. As the sensation grew stronger he just about managed to grind out the words, "Please, Sam. Fuck me."
    The aching loss of Sam's fingers was soothed by their replacement with something much larger. Sam pushed the blunt head of his cock against Nick's hole, and Nick called out with a mixture of pleasure and pain.
    When Sam drove right in until their bollocks slapped together, Nick dropped his face to the shag pile and drooled into it. He didn't know what this guy was doing to him, but somehow he was falling apart. Sam withdrew to the head and then with a grunt, thrust back in again, his hand flailing about trying to grab at Nick's virtually non-existent hair. He gave up, shoving his hand down hard onto the back of Nick's head, pushing his face against the floor. Nick was going to end up with carpet burn on his face. Now, that'd really give greasy Steve something to look at.
    As Sam pounded hard into him, Nick screwed his eyes closed and inhaled deeply, trying to catch his breath. Nothing like the heady mix of precum and cheap polyester fibres to make a guy feel like a whore. It was enough to tip him over the edge. He reached for his cock and it only took a couple of strokes before the