Page 55 of The Locker Room

at being left out.

Chris chuckled then, and kept suckling until Xander—still wet and

sticking from just spending in Chris"s mouth—writhed and groaned on

the bed.

“You want to come again?” Chris asked wickedly, and Xander

whimpered. Honest to God whimpered. “You do? C"mon, Xander.

We"ve been waiting to do this for actual years. Let me hear it!”

The Locker Room

“I want to come again!” Xander confessed, as Chris drew a wicked

fingertip from his belly button to his erection.

“Good,” Chris said, chuckling. “Because I"ve been studying up,

and I"ve got a whole different way to make you scream.”

Amy Lane

What a Long Strange Trip

BY THE time Chris"s parents returned that week, Xander and Chris had

washed all his sheetsandhis comforterandhis pillowcases.

Twice.

And Xander"s too.

By strict “penetrative” standards, both of them were still virgins

then, but by the standard that mattered—that they were both willing to

put their bodies into the other"s hand and expect tenderness, passion, and

pleasure—they had a lifetime"s foundation of experience, and they used

it as often that summer as they possibly could. They started driving to the

foothills in the dark hours after work, to find a corner of the world where

they could make out and not be recognized if they got caught. (Chris

joked that summer that he was spending half his check on car fresheners,

a crack that never failed to make Xander blush until Chris had to kiss

him senseless.)