Switch Hitter (8 page)

Hard hands forced his ass cheeks apart.

Run. Now.

Get the hell out before…before….

His legs ignored the commands of his splintered brain. Something he didn’t dare try to name held him immobile while the man, the bane of his existence, examined him in the most intimate way possible. Humiliation ate at him, but still, he allowed the probing to continue.

“I’ve never had virgin ass before.” He kneaded the flesh with his hands. “Don’t move.”

Virgin ass.

For how much longer?

Not fuckin’ long.

A faint hum told him the bathroom light had been turned on. If he was going to run, now was the time. His heart thudded.

Run.

Get out.

Now.

His mind sent signals to his limbs, but he didn’t run. Then Sean was back, using his thighs to spread Bent’s legs.

He would have caught me if I’d run
.

You are such a liar.

You want him to fuck you.

“Up on your knees.”

He struggled to obey, but not fast enough. Rough hands shoved him into position.

Bent closed his eyes against the shame of having his balls and hard cock exposed for another man’s eyes. How could he deny he wanted to be fucked when his cock was harder than a cured-maple bat?

“Look at you.” Flannery palmed his balls then grasped his erection, coating the length with cold lotion, stroking until Bent couldn’t remain still. He pumped his hips, seeking an end to his torment.

“Not yet. I’ll be damned if you’re going to get satisfaction from the
idea
of being fucked. No, sir.”

He rocked back toward the hand slathering his asshole with cold, pungent lubricant

“Hold still.”

Slippery fingers reamed his asshole. There was a flash of pain that quickly gave way to a pleasant fullness. Groaning, he buried his face in the comforter, grateful he couldn’t see. Feeling was bad enough.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” The other man worked the digits in, out, and around, forcing more moans from his lips.

He screwed his eyes shut realizing a level of mortification he’d never thought possible. His hands were tied, but he wasn’t helpless. He could get away if he wanted, but…he didn’t. The fingers breaching him felt too wonderful.

So fuckin’ wrong.

So fuckin good.

“Don’t fuckin’ move.”

He couldn’t. Hate, fear, desire, humiliation, all held him prisoner.

Behind him, Sean cursed. A belt buckle clanked, metal against metal. The rasp of a zipper and the soft swish
of fabric crumpling followed by a familiar sound of foil tearing, grounded him in reality. He lifted his head so his chin rested on the comforter. Blinking against the bright lights in the room, he knew it was now or never. His last chance. If he didn’t say something, didn’t escape, he was going to get fucked.

A muscle cramped in his neck. He twitched at the pain.

“I said, don’t move.” Long fingers gripped his hips tight then hauled his knees to the edge of the bed. “We aren’t through.”

All thoughts of bolting evaporated.

A stiff cock nudged at the tight ring lubricated with the hotel’s hand lotion. Bent almost swallowed his tongue when the contact changed to insistent pressure. Instinctively, he clenched his ass cheeks as tight as possible.

“I’m going in, no matter what,” Flannery said. “Your choice. Easy or hard.”

He didn’t need it spelled out for him. It was going to hurt either way, but less so if he relaxed. He sucked in a deep breath, releasing the tension in his ass on the exhale.

Sean must have taken the movement for his decision or an invitation. The pressure became unbearable for the space of a heartbeat then the massive dick he’d first seen in the shower five years ago burned its way up his ass.

He buried his face in the bedding again, taking a mouthful of fabric to muffle the scream he couldn’t contain.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The huge cock felt like a hot poker shoved up his ass.

“Goddamn, you’re tight.” Fingers probed the ring of fire where the two of them were connected. “You’re okay, though.”

Spitting the cotton out, Bent wailed, “I am not fuckin’ okay! Get your goddamn horse dick out of me!” His stomach roiled with disgust.

“Not on your life. Your asshole is mine now, and I’m fucking going to enjoy it. So are you.” Strong hands stroked his ass globes, massaging, soothing. “Just give it another minute.”

He willed his muscles to relax.

Oh, God
.

The searing pain dulled then ebbed away. The longer Sean’s dick was inside him the better it felt. He
couldn’t
like being fucked by a man. No way in hell was he going to enjoy being fucked.

God, no. Please. Please. Please.
He had no idea what he was pleading for—mercy or the forbidden pleasure creeping into his mind and body—taking over.

The bastard was fucking right. He liked it

Feels…so fuckin’ good.

“Fuck.” Tears he couldn’t control streamed down his face. He needed more. He wanted it all. “I can’t…please….”

Sean ground his molars. His legs trembled with the effort to keep still. Everything in him called for action. After all these years, he had Bentley Randolph right where he wanted him, and he wasn’t going to rush the experience for either of them.

The man needed time adjust then he would find the pleasure. He hated causing him pain, but it couldn’t be helped. The first time was a bitch. Reaching around, he found his lover’s bobbing appendage and wrapped his hand around it.

“Fuck.” He moved his hips, bucking into Sean’s fist, inadvertently sliding down the length of his cock.

“Hold still,” he admonished, taking his time to drive deep, savoring the feel of the tight ass taking all of him. Heeding his own advice, he remained motionless as long as possible. Then he resumed stroking the other man’s cock, waiting for a sign he was ready to continue.

He’d known plenty of guys who couldn’t maintain an erection with a dick in their ass, the man beneath him wasn’t one of them. His cock remained hard, throbbing as his hand slid along its length. It wasn’t long before Bent began to moan. Sean realized his reluctant lover was lost in the sensations—no longer thinking about who provided them.

Flexing his hips, he pulled almost all the way out then slid back in one torturously slow inch at a time. The other man’s moan assured him all was well. He did it again, increasing the speed. Again and again, he worked in and out, faster, harder with each stroke until the slap of skin on skin punctuated by male curses filled the room.

Fuck.

Bentley felt so damned good. He couldn’t take his eyes off him. He was built like a god—broad shoulders, slim hips, and the most beautiful tight ass he’d ever seen. His back was smooth, rippling with powerful muscles below the surface. He couldn’t resist touching him, tracing the long line of his spine down to the bunched shirt at his wrists bound with navy blue silk.

Shit
. If he had it his way, he’d fuckin’ tie him up every chance he got. He loved having him at his mercy, even if it was nothing more than an illusion. A lousy necktie, poorly applied was nothing against the kind of strength his lover possessed. If the man wanted to get away, he could.

But he didn’t.

Sean ran his hands along toned hairy thighs then back up to smooth ass. So much power, but his to command. Using his thumbs, he held him open, watching in awe as his dick disappeared inside the tight hole. He tore his gaze away, daring to look at his lover’s face.

With one cheek pressed into the mattress, his eyes closed, a watery track traversed his cheek down to his stubbled jaw. His lips parted. Incoherent, though blissful, sounds came forth. All of a sudden, it wasn’t enough. He needed more. He wanted it all.

Chapter Seven

Bentley couldn’t move.

Impaled on Sean’s massive cock, a tangle of emotions and sensations assailed him. Unbearable pain at first had morphed into a somewhat pleasant, full feeling, followed by pleasure so intense he couldn’t quantify it. Nothing in his extensive prior sexual experience equaled it. He felt small…weak…possessed. The tie binding his wrists was nothing. He sensed a few artful twists would release him, but even so, the restraint wouldn’t prevent him from kicking the shit out of Sean if he wanted to.

He’d imagined sucking Sean’s dick, had fantasized about fucking his ass, but he’d never considered the man might fuck him first. He’d never once considered letting any man near his ass, but he’d barely offered a protest when Flannery bound his arms and stripped him. Pressed face first into the bed, his ass reamed by the biggest cock he’d ever seen, he couldn’t think of anything but how fuckin’ good it felt. The pleasure scared the ever-lovin’ shit out of him.

Tears stung his eyes.

Liking what they were doing was wrong on so many levels, not the least of which he was cheating on Ashley—with a man!

How could he do this to her?

How can I not?

There was no rationalization—no excuse he could utter to make his betrayal okay.

Sean’s balls slapped his in a constant rhythm that sent waves of erotic pleasure coursing through his body. Every thrust made his cock throb. He ached for release.

Despite the self-loathing burning in his chest, he spoke the damning words. “Need to come…. Please.”

He gasped as Sean pulled all the way out. With one hard shove to his hip, the other man rolled him to his back, pinning his hands beneath him. Bent looked up into the face of the man he hated with every fiber of his being. The first baseman’s unyielding gaze swept down his body, pausing at the most visible sign of his capitulation, his turgid cock.

Long fingers closed around the aching appendage. Bent groaned, letting his head fall back while his hips rose to meet the rough strokes.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said, yanking him forward by the tie still knotted around his neck. “You’re going to come, all right, but when you do, you’re fuckin’ going to know who you’re with.”

In seconds, his knees were up around his ears. His tie cut into the back of his neck, causing his back to arch so his sole means of escape was to close his eyes. But he couldn’t.

Sean stood between his splayed legs, still wearing his shirt, tie, and suit coat. Heat flooded Bent’s face. His breath came in short pants. He’d never felt as vulnerable as he did right then.

He watched as Sean guided his cock into place. His ass was sore from the first invasion, and he wasn’t sure he could stand to have it in him again so soon—especially in a position where he wouldn’t be able to hide his feelings.

He was given no time to protest. Flexing his hips, the man he’d given himself to, tunneled deep.

“Fuck,” Bent hissed. The pain soon gave way to the overwhelming feeling of pleasure he remembered. “Why do you have to have a goddamn battering ram for a dick?”

“Shut the fuck up.” A sharp tug on the necktie wrenched a groan from his gut. “Look at me.”

He stared at the man holding him a prisoner of his own desires then shifted his focus away. Another hard jerk brought his gaze up again.

“Don’t fuckin’ do that again.” He slid almost all the way out then powered back in hard enough to send shockwaves all the way to Bent’s toes. “No evasion. No denial.” He repeated the same hard stroke, emphasizing his commands.

“This is you and me. This is what we’ve both wanted for way too long.”

“Fuck you,” he said, though he knew his defiance meant nothing. The man was right. He’d wanted it five years ago. He wanted it now. His shame couldn’t be any greater.

Spitting into his palm, his tormentor fisted Bent’s cock then began to pump. Hate for himself, for the man controlling him, rolled through him like a red tide, blurring his vision and turning his stomach.

He could make him stop. The bindings at his wrists wouldn’t prevent him from rolling away, breaking the connection. But as desperate as he was to end the humiliation, he was just as enslaved to the forbidden pleasure coursing through him.

He knew the bliss of having a woman’s soft hand jack him. He loved the feel of their slim fingers around his dick—loved the way they always held something back, afraid they might hurt him. But, dear God, when Sean fisted him, he’d had to clench his jaw shut or scream the rafters down.

No tentative touch. The bastard jacked as hard as he fucked. Combined, the two sensations blew his mind.

He bucked his hips, drawing a series of guttural oaths from his tormenter, and perhaps a few from himself. He couldn’t be sure. All he knew was the driving urge to fuck and be fucked. He was out of his mind with the need to shove into the tight tunnel of resistance formed by Flannery’s fingers.

“Ahh, Jesus…. Fuck,” he ground out. He tore his gaze away from the sight of his cock’s round head bursting forth from the callused hand clamped around it. The cords in his teammate’s neck were tight, his jaw locked in a grimace as he rocked his hips, reaming his ass with hard, fast thrusts.

Lust flared hot and bright. He closed his eyes, conjuring the image of the first baseman’s naked, hot, soapy water sluicing down his back, over his tight ass. He saw him turn. Saw the hard ridges of his chest and abdomen. Saw his cock held just as the man now held his.

Lightening struck the small of his back, sending tendrils of fire through his lower body, igniting an inferno in his balls.

Another hard jerk to his neck. “Look at me,” Flannery commanded.

He locked gazes with his teammate. Bile rose in his throat. He swallowed it down, savoring the chemical burn in his esophagus as his due for what he was about to do.

His dick throbbed, and his asshole clenched. Liquid fire spattered across his bare skin. Triumph lit Sean’s face. He hated the man even more for understanding what he’d done to him.

His cock softened, but his captor continued to hold it in a vise-grip. His hips had stilled, his cock buried balls deep in his ass. Released from the chokehold of his orgasm, he noticed the firm line of Sean’s jaw, saw the muscles twitch there. He recognized the other man’s agony. Sean needed to come as badly as he had moments ago.

“Do it,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Just fuckin’ do it then get the hell out of here.”

“This isn’t over.” He withdrew then breached him again. His face contorted in a mask of pleasure/pain Bentley couldn’t mistake.

Sore as he was, he felt the pulsing contractions ripple along the cock buried up his ass. The knowledge of what was happening made the bile rise in his throat again, yet he couldn’t help also feeling a wave of satisfaction at having brought such a strong man to the breaking point. He recognized the feeling as the same one he experienced when he brought Ashley to orgasm—power over another human being’s body, the immense fulfillment of giving the ultimate pleasure to another.

Closing his eyes, he slumped backward. He wasn’t sure if it was the weight of his shoulders that dragged the tie free, or if the other man simply let go, but the minute his shoulders touched the mattress, he wrenched his torso. Rolling to his side, he left the other man no choice but to jerk his dick free.

A twist of his wrists and he was loose. He scrambled to his feet. Globs of cooled cum slid along his chest, renewing his shame. Beside him, Flannery removed the condom, tying the open end into a simple knot before tucking his limp cock back into his pants.

The hate Bent knew so well, gripped him in its angry fist. The man looked perfect in his suit, still neat and clean while he stood naked and soiled. Scooping cum from his belly, he flung the evidence of his perverse nature at the man responsible.

“Get out.” He pointed toward the door. “Get the fuck out of my room, out of my sight.”

Sean secured his zipper, looked down at his now ruined suit. His lips curved into a mocking smile. “I’m leaving,” he said, “but we’re far from over.” He swept at a large damp spot on his lapel. He brought the finger to his mouth and licked it clean.

Mesmerized by another man tasting his cum, he was surprised when strong arms wrapped around him, hauling him up against a hard body. Lips locked his in a kiss as unbreakable as the first baseman’s embrace.

He fought to get free, but one hand fisted in his hair, yanking him into submission. Mouth still gaping, he was unprepared when something cold and slimy was shoved past his lips and his jaw forced shut sealing the object inside. Surprised and sickened, his gaze met Sean’s.

“Don’t fuck with me, Bentley—ever again, or I’ll fill every hole you’ve got with cum, for real. But you’d like it, wouldn’t you? You’d like to feel my load filling your ass. I know you want to taste my cum, so there it is. Enjoy.”

Releasing Bent’s jaw from his iron grip, he stalked to the door. Stopping with his hand on the handle, he turned. “You’re a fucked up asshole, in more ways than one.”

Bent spit the used condom in the direction of the closing door then raced to the bathroom. Hunched over the toilet, his stomach heaved until his abdominal muscles ached. Sinking to the cool tile floor, he braced against the bathtub, letting his head fall back. His throat burned and his mouth tasted like a cesspool.

Guilt, hate, and self-loathing kept him rooted to the spot. He could no longer deny his attraction for Sean, but on the other hand, he couldn’t imagine never holding Ashley again, never seeing ecstasy on her face when she came apart in his arms. He closed his eyes, recalling the same look of wonder on Sean’s face. Being with him felt right, but it was so wrong.

He couldn’t have both of them. Hell, he couldn’t have Sean. Not now, not ever. He had to forget about what had happened tonight—let it go. It wasn’t as if he was the first guy to experiment with another guy, but that’s all it was or ever could be, an experiment. The results were conclusive—he could find pleasure with another man, but he didn’t need the connection the way he needed a physical connection with a woman—Ashley, to be specific.

Music floated in from the other room. He groaned, recognizing the ringtone his fiancée had programmed into his phone to indicate the call was from her. For the first time since they’d become a couple he let her call go to voicemail. He couldn’t talk to her at the moment, not with Sean’s scent still on his body reminding him of the pleasure he’d given and received—pleasure he had no business wanting, yet he did.

Sean was right. He wanted to taste the other man’s cum, wanted to take him down his throat, wanted to feel his jiz shooting up his ass. God help him, he wanted Sean to experience those things from him just as badly. Hell, his dick was getting hard again just thinking about shoving it between the man’s tight butt cheeks, fucking him hard. Having a woman beneath him was one thing, but commanding a powerful athlete like Flannery, having him at his mercy would be something entirely different. Just like it had been different, but arousing for him tonight. Hard. Raw. Primal.

With Ashley he always held something back. She was too feminine, too fragile to take the kind of fucking he’d received tonight. It would break her in half. But he could bend Sean over the back of the sofa and fuck the hell out of him. Ride him without any brakes. Flannery could take it.

But it wasn’t going to happen. Whatever he had with the man was over. Done. Finished.

It had to be.

He raised his knees, spread them wide then rested his forearms on top. His dick stood at attention, throbbing with need though still sore from being handled with such roughness. Eyeing the complimentary bottle of hand lotion on the counter above his head, he assessed his state of arousal. Determining nothing short of an orgasm was going to cure it, he placed his hands on the tub behind him and lifted himself to sit on the edge. The hard surface brought a tinge of discomfort, a reminder of the abuse his ass had taken, but he welcomed it.

Sighing, he reached for the lotion and filled his palm with the cool liquid. At first, he held himself with a gentle touch; much like Ashley would, pumping with slow, cautious strokes. The lotion felt nice, the smell reminiscent of the flowery oils she favored. He could see her, smiling up at him, asking with her eyes if she was doing it right. Her hand soft, her fingers barely encompassing his girth, her sweet efforts to pleasure him warmed his heart. He wouldn’t trade what he had with her for a million fucks with Sean, and certainly not for one experimental evening.

Memories flooded in. He realized he’d tightened his grip and his movements were harsher, less forgiving than before. This was how Sean’s hand had felt on him, his grip firm and unbreakable. He’d jacked with purpose, knowing as only another man could where the limits were to their endurance. Every guy jacked his own junk, but having someone else do it for him, someone who wasn’t afraid his dick might break off, was different. Relief. No reassurances necessary. No patient coaxing or praise, just matter of fact, jack him off then let the guy breathe again. Fast. Hard. Confident.

His fingers squeezed his aching flesh. He leaned back, bracing one hand against the opposite edge of the tub in order to give himself more room to pump. Clear fluid leaked from his urethra, glistening in the harsh bathroom light. He closed his eyes, imagining his hand was Sean’s ass sheathing his cock in moist heat while Bent took his pleasure in deep, forceful thrusts every man dreamed of when they were fucking a woman, but if they were any kind of gentleman wouldn’t consider using.