Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 51803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“Ah ... God! VALENTI!” O’Brian shouted, and then Valenti felt the rhythmic spurts as the shaft in his hand released suddenly, coating his palm with sticky warmth, letting go of the incredible tension, the overwhelming need. Then his partner was sagging against him, clearly weak in the knees from the force of his orgasm. “Ah, babe ...” O’Brian whispered, his voice ragged and low. “So good ... so ... good.” His heart was still pounding like a jackhammer under Valenti’s palm.
Without thinking, Valenti reached around and turned O’Brian’s face toward him and kissed his partner long and slow on those full, panting lips, even as the other man’s shaft softened in his hand.
“Team three, if you are quite finished?” The voice of Peter broke the trance they were in.
Valenti broke the kiss reluctantly and looked up to see that every eye in the place was trained on them. Even the other contestants were standing quietly by, having obviously finished earlier. The room was silent; he and O’Brian were the sole focus of attention, and Valenti suddenly felt his stage fright come back full force, clawing at his throat with nervous fingers.
“Um ... yeah. We’re done,” he mumbled, trying desperately to stuff O’Brian’s semi-erect shaft back into the tight shorts, which didn’t want to cooperate. How the hell did his partner manage in these things, anyway? To his great relief, O’Brian came to life and took over the operation at hand, tucking himself neatly away and standing up straight so that Valenti no longer had to support his weight.
“Gentlemen, I think I speak for all of us when I say, that was beautiful. Just an outstanding performance.” The look on Peter’s face was thoroughly gratified, and there were murmurs of agreement from the audience, and the other contestants, as well. “I think I have to award both the longest jerk and the best technique to this lovely, mismatched pair,” he continued, and there were roars of approval from every side. Valenti felt like his whole body was blushing in shame. The weight of what he had done fell on him like a lead ball, and he just wanted to get off the stage.
“Thanks,” he muttered. “Come on, Sean.” He motioned for O’Brian to follow him and beat a hasty retreat down the side of the stage, pushing through the crowd and straight out past the leather curtain. The dim room outside seemed closer than ever, a claustrophobe’s nightmare, and suddenly Valenti felt as though the weight of the entire RamJack was pressing down on his neck. He had to get out of the Basement.
Nearly running, ignoring the questioning look of the black-haired guard, he made his way out of the stone enclosure, through the black door, and up the narrow stairs. He heard footsteps running to catch up with him and knew O’Brian must be right behind, so that was all right. But he couldn’t stop for anything until he got all the way out.
Finally he ground to a halt, gasping more with emotion than exertion at the top of the stairs, leaning with his fists pressed against his knees and his head hanging down. He could hear his heart thundering in his ears, and a cold sweat had broken out all over his body.
“Hey, babe ... hey ...” It was O’Brian’s voice, and a warm hand on the back of his neck made Valenti look up briefly to see concern written large over the familiar face of his partner before he squeezed his eyes closed again. “C’mon, why don’t you sit a minute? Make you feel better to take a load off,” the voice continued reasonably. Valenti found himself being turned awkwardly, and a gentle pressure on his shoulders urged him down.
He didn’t sit so much as collapse onto the top stair, head down and hands dangling between his knees. He realized that one palm was still sticky with his partner’s cum, and he wiped it carefully on his shirt, over his heart.
“Okay,” he muttered, not sure if he was trying to convince O’Brian or himself. “I’m okay.” The blind panic was beginning to leave him, a cold dread taking its place. He looked up, but found he couldn’t meet those sea-green eyes. “Sean,” he said at last, sighing deeply. “Sean, I’m so damn sorry.”
“What for?” There was genuine bewilderment in his partner’s tone, and Valenti was surprised to see O’Brian peering at him with a worried frown. “You did what you had to do, Nick. We both did.”
“But I shouldn’t have made such a ... such a production of it.” Valenti didn’t know how to explain what he really felt, the real reason he was sick and dizzy with dread. The act they had been required to perform could have been very mechanical -- almost clinical, if he had gone about it the right way. Instead, Valenti had let his feelings for his partner overcome him, had made it an act of intimacy -- an expression of his love. “Shouldn’t have enjoyed it so much,” he whispered.