Because Blogger's "Adult warning" often goes into a perpetual loop (isn't working properly), I will be making all new posts at my WordPress blog. You can follow it even if you do not have a WordPress Account. There're also my Twitter and my Tumblr blog, my Facebook and my Google+ page and my group.
(Update: Blogger hasn't fixed its problem with the "adult warning". Will go back to posting at my WordPress blog)

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Majorca Flats -- 25

Jason wanted to pound him into the mattress, to take him face down, fast, and then more slowly face to face with his legs wrapped round his back. With Brent, Jason had on the whole preferred to bottom, with him and Brent facing each other, a cushion under his bum for comfort. Watching Brent's face start to sheen with sweat, feeling the beat of his heart accelerate, and the deep steel thrusting within him always crowned and heightened his own pleasure in their love making. But sometimes, when Brent was drunk or feeling unloved, he was the one who wanted to be fucked, and he always lay face down on the bed, his head turned towards Jason as Jason ground into him, the mouths locked together so that Jason could taste the beer on his breath. Brent's pleasure seemed as intense when they did this as when he was topping. Jason, however, preferred to take what somewhere, ridiculously, deep inside himself he called the woman's role. He had wanted to be Brent's woman, not as a woman, not in any effeminate way, but to be possessed by him, to belong to him, to be supremely and totally his. To give his body to him. To feel that Brent was in charge not just here in bed, but everywhere. To feel safe.

[Note:  This is what I imagine Jason looking like.  Or like this.]

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