CircuSEX by William Maltese

Author:William Maltese
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: MLR Press, LLC

5. What Goes Up, Must Come...

A physical collision with Chaney Power was a collision with a brick wall. He was that well-muscled. His upper half revealed its full splendor by being shirtless. His pectorals were twin squares, seemingly chiseled by God, like high mesas chiseled by the elements from some bronzed and gloriously rugged landscape. His pecs mirrored one another across a deep pectoral gully that, with accompanying well-defined serrated edges, perfectly halved his chest. At the top of the pectoral gully was the deep indentation, at the base of his powerful neck, that I knew, from having read The English Patient, was called the vascular sizood: it looked far sexier than its name. The lower end of the gully opened onto his abdominal plain where muscular ripples resembled sand dunes sculptured by exotic desert winds like the ghibli, the haboob, the khamsin, the datoo. Like an oasis, gone dry and mostly filled with sand, but no less inviting for having done so, his navel was a sexy punctuation mark in that totally masculine landscape.

"Sorry!” Chaney reached for me and rescued me from falling in the aftermath of our having bumped. Later, of course, I'd realize he was less off balance because he'd expected, even planned, that we should meet that way, then and there, his body banged against mine in seeming innocence.

His callused grip was firm and reassuring, one of his hands to each of my biceps. His biceps were larger than mine, bolstered as his were by their vigorous and nightly death-defying workouts on the high trapeze.

He pulled me tightly against him. His naked chest was full against the front of my shirt. His legs were against my legs. His crotch was so firmly nudged against my crotch that his decidedly hard cock triggered mine toward immediate erection.

"You've been avoiding me,” he said.

By then I had my balance, but I was held to the spot by the sublime wonder of being suddenly so near him.

His hands took advantage and ran the length of my goosefleshed arms, slid into the small of my back, palmed the cheeks of my ass, and squeezed as he pulled our pelvises even closer. His lower body delivered a sexy shift that further aroused my swelling dick, as if my prick were a down-for-the-count boxer being urged to return to a fighting stance.

I anchored my hands to his waist, surprised that all his hard muscle, beneath my palms and fingers, felt more like velvet than flesh and sinew. I attempted to push him at least to arm's-length, but he refused to budge.

His face was so close to mine that I had to make a concentrated effort to focus on his high cheekbones, his square jaw line, his luscious lips, his turquoise eyes.

He emanated a palpable heat laced with his aphrodisiacal odors of sweat, musk, and a definitely lime-based after-shave or cologne.

"Chaney?!” That's all I could say at the moment. Thinking to get more leverage, I slid the flat of my hands up and over his chest.

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