Volume 01 - Dirty Shorts

something to eat. They needed to keep their energy reserve stocked, and if Ashley had his way, they would need it. Still, he wasn’t sure if spending more sexy time with Rick was smart, or if he was an idiot to be going home with a man he just met who could turn out to be some kind of psycho killer, especially since Ashley hadn’t told anyone where he was going. If he washed up dead, no one would remember seeing a guy leave with Rick, since as far as anyone could tell, he’d left with a woman.
    However, as Ashley watched Rick’s back flex while he cooked, he decided that he was ninety-six percent sure Rick wasn’t a killer. Four-percent was a minimal risk, and Ashley’s gut told him Rick was a genuinely nice person. Ashley couldn’t help his thoughts though, and they were scattered all over the place. One second he wondered why they weren’t naked yet, the next he was back to serial killers. Ashley didn’t know why he was so jittery, probably something to do with being in an unfamiliar situation. They’d already fucked and now Rick was inviting him over for the night and cooking for him. It seemed intimate, and Ashley wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
    He knew that just sitting there and watching Rick wasn’t helping; he needed a distraction. They hadn’t really talked since leaving the bar, other than Rick asking him if he liked French toast. Ashley, of course, had replied that it made him salivate just thinking about swallowing a big, warm mouthful of that delicious goodness. Saying something slutty was his default response when he was nervous or unsure of himself, especially around someone he found attractive. And he found Rick more than attractive. He was fucking delicious, but Ashley still couldn’t hold back his abrasive retorts.
    “I don’t cook.” Ashley decided it was best to get some stuff out in the open. He wasn’t sure where Rick wanted this encounter to go, but in case they did somehow develop a relationship, he wanted everything on the table from the beginning. It avoided arguing and miscommunication down the road, assuming this lasted longer than a night. “I mean, I can cook, but I choose not to, it’s too much of a hassle. Everything worth eating can be nuked in the microwave, and it tastes just as good.”
    Rick skeptically looked over his shoulder at Ashley, “No, it doesn’t.”
    Ashley shrugged, “You get used to it then.”
    “That’s okay I’d rather not get used to it, besides, I can cook. Maybe you can …”
    “I don’t clean either,” Ashley cut Rick off before he could offer the ‘I’ll cook, you clean’ compromise. Attempting to be a little more accommodating, Ashley added, “I’ll load the dishwasher, but I don’t scrub anything.”
    “I was going to say maybe you can make up for not cooking with other skills, but if you don’t clean either…” Rick shrugged and just left that statement hanging, insinuating that Ashley’s “other skills” wouldn’t make up for his phobia of common household chores. As if!
    “My body can bend like a pretzel, and I can do things with my mouth that make porn-stars envious. And stamina? Yeah, I got enough of that to outlast the Energizer Bunny.” Ashley said proudly, with a hint of defensiveness.
    Rick turned around and slowly looked Ashley up and down with intense scrutiny. Ashley fought against his instinct to shift away and avoid Rick’s inspection. Ashley knew he looked like a hot mess. For one, his legs were open and clearly visible under the glass dining table. His skirt was short enough that Rick would be able to see his panties, and he’d given up all pretenses of tucking after their earlier adventures. He could feel Ashley junior and the dangling orb twins trying to escape the lacy fabric. The padding from his left breast was out of alignment, and rather than fixing it, he just crossed his arms, causing it to pop out completely. Ashley pretended not to notice as his cheap imitation boob landed on the floor. However, what probably looked the worst was that he’d taken off his wig and hung it on Rick’s coat rack. His own short, brown hair didn’t compliment the makeup he was still wearing, even when it hadn’t been smothered under a wig for hours. Ashley didn’t even want to imagine how many sweat clumps his hair had formed or how raggedy he must look.
    Ashley refused to appear self-conscious, so he wore an expression that he hoped looked smugly confident when Rick finally met his gaze. “I