Sunday 23 July 2017


When you're in the moment, a really good, juicy moment, it should be easy to shut out the rest of the world. It should at least be possible. Writing about that type of moment needs the same sort of focus. Recently, the real world has been clamouring for my attention to the extent that my focus, pretty much all of Alethea vanished. I hate letting her go, but sometimes...the rest of my life has to be more important.

Then I received an email notification of a book review for something I wrote a few years ago and it reminded me I enjoy writing, enjoy being Alethea as an escape. And this afternoon I have been able to leave life doing it's thing and hit the keyboard.

I think this might well be the start of something longer. I hope so. Someone caught in a moment. I'll worry about how sustainable that moment might be later.

And yes... there is a nod to the World Para-Athletics in there.


“Hey! Whatcha think you’re doing?”

I was pretty sure what she thought she was doing. Advancing towards me, the flirt in her eye now predatory and hard. Hand on my chest, pushing me back against the black stage curtain. She didn’t answer me and I realised this was another rule in the game. And for shit was I going to show myself up, admitting I was lost. Never read the fucking rules was the only rule I’d ever needed.

She was un-nerving, but the guy with the dark eyes and hard jaw, who hovered at the edge of my peripheral vision, he was just plain scary. Her nail found the gap between shirt buttons and ran teasingly down my chest and electric shivers burnt across my skin.

“Ungh!” Oh shit. Never did that sound come from my mouth, but man, her thigh was powerful against my junk and her lips moved against my jaw and fuck me if I was going to stop her. And if he wanted to watch, then, I’m down with that. I mean, I’m a fucking god on stilts and who wouldn’t want to watch me fuck.

Perhaps we could make this more private.

“You want to come to my hotel? I’ve got a room to myself and ….” Fucking dork. I’ll be telling them, telling her, that I travelled without my mum soon. Of course I fucking did! Score myself a hot cougar and I’m acting like a kid.

“Think you can handle that?” God, her voice was husky. Shouting for me on the track? Dick for brains, I showed her I could, moving her hand till my cock pressed eagerly against her palm. And she pressed back, tits smooshed against my ribs, rubbing sinuously, ‘til I let my eyes close.

Hot breath, roaming lips, teeth nipping my ear lobe and I’m humping her hand like that had become an event in itself. Roar of blood as deafening as the roar of a home crowd. “Come on then, baby.”  Come on anymore and I’d come in my pants and then…

And then the grip was tighter, surer. Another hand heavy on my shoulder. I scrunched my eyes tighter as thought keeping them closed could close off the other senses. But I could smell him. Expensive. Subtle. Cologne. Taller too, his nose nudging my temple, lips dry as they skimmed across my cheek towards her.

I heard them kiss, the breath and slap of skin. The feather of air across my lips as they kissed, pinned as they jacked me to the edge of insanity. I mean, that had to be why I hadn’t made my horror known. Why the moan that escaped me was all sex and no disgust.

His mouth turned on me, hard and demanding and the hand that rose to push him away clung to his shirt and the bunched bicep beneath. She whispered how hot we were and I preened at her praise even as I fought to hold my own in the kiss. A battle in teeth and tongue and lips. And that hand. Their hands. His fingers, long and knowledgeable, curled around my balls and dipping behind. Hers cupping the head just enough to play with the ridge as I rutted against her. Them.

Breaking for air seemed to be by some sort of mutual agreement and our hands slowed and relaxed. His forehead rested heavily against my hair, her face against my neck, their panted breaths hot and sweet against sweat dampened skin.

Opening my eyes, I was ready to laugh it off. Some sort of dare or challenge and fuck knows I never backed down from those. And shit, it wasn’t as though I’d hidden my appreciation of the slightly more experienced ladies from my friends. But this quiet backstage area was just as still and empty as it had been when she’d taken my hand and pulled me through the curtains. Just us. Three of us.

“So.” I cleared my throat to remove the pre-pubertal quiver. “We doing this shit?”

“You good?” His question was valid even though his thumb was tucked into my belt, fingers trailing against a hard-on as solid as my legs.

“Yeah, mate. Not quite what I was expecting, but…yeah… bring it on.”

I felt his smile twitch against my cheek.

“She’s not like…bait or something is she?”

She huffed and nipped at my throat “No, she isn’t… we’re a package deal or we can be single options not bait.”  

“Fair point.” To be honest my mind is so blown in this moment I don’t know what that means, but it’s all good.

“What she means is, you can say no to us, or me, if that’s what you want.”

My dick chose that moment to remind me with a dancing pulse towards his fingers, that, although this was not what I’d anticipated, there was more I wanted.

“No, mate. Like I said, I’m good if you are. Should I, like, order a taxi or…”

She gripped my jaw and turned my face to hers. “This is the big city. We can get a cab outside whenever you’re ready.”

My pride bristled a bit at that. Like a lot. I’ve travelled the world in the last 18 months and these sports awards are just the latest jaunt. And Brisbane is not exactly the sticks.

Then she dropped to her knees and my heart rate broke the safe training ceiling. “Whenever, you’re ready.”

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