Last summer talented author Stormy Glenn set up a game of “What If”. She wrote the opening paragraphs to a story and invited more than twenty other authors to each finish the story however they wished.
Participating was a lot of fun, and each author finished the story in their own unique way.
This is what Stormy wrote:
He felt a warm glow flow through him as Ian’s hands stroked down his sides. Every time Ian’s hazel eyes met his, Billy’s heart turned over in response. His pulse pounded. A delightful shiver of wanting ran through him. He tossed his head back and groaned.
Ian’s touch always affected him this way. It had from the first day he laid eyes on the man when they were just kids in second grade. Ian Thomas was Billy’s knight in shining armor, protecting him from all the evils on the playground.
“Ian,” Billy gasped. His need for Ian overrode everything in his world, maybe even his need to breathe. Ian was everything Billy had ever wanted, ever desired. Being here in his arms felt like heaven on earth.
“I’ll take care of you, Billy,” Ian whispered back, “I’ve always taken care of you, haven’t I?”
“Yes,” Billy hissed. He curled into the curve of Ian’s body, pressing his hard cock against the man’s abdomen. He buried his face in the corded muscles of Ian’s chest, overwhelmed by the desire burning through him.
A large hand took his face and held it gently. Soft lips nipped at his. “I’ll always take care of you, Billy.”
Billy turned his head and pressed a kiss into Ian’s hand before giving his response. “Ian,” He whimpered again. “I need you, Ian.”
“I’m here for you, Billy.”
His touch, firm and persuasive, invited Billy to lean into a kiss that curled his toes with its intensity. Ian’s lips were warm and sweet against Billy’s, reminding him of honey and sunshine.
“Ian, love.”
“Yes, Billy.”
“Billy…”
“BILLY! Wake the hell up!”
And this is how I finished the story:
Billy startled awake, his pleasant dreams of being in bed with Ian, about to be fucked by Ian, suddenly shattered as his bleary eyes opened to see them both still on the damn airplane.
His cock pressed hard against his jeans and he longed to rearrange his equipment, but Ian’s gaze was still fixed on him and told him he must have said or done something embarrassing as he slept. Make that something more embarrassing than just having his head on Ian’s shoulder, faint traces of drool on his lips, and jeans that were currently much too tight in the crotch.
“What’s up?”
Ian’s gaze flicked to the person on Billy’s other side. An older, weedy little man pressed hard against the far side of his seat, putting as much space between himself and Billy as possible on an overcrowded Boeing 767.
Billy pasted his most endearing smile on his face and apologized. “I’m sorry. I must have been dreaming.”
The man didn’t seem appeased. Billy raised an eyebrow at Ian but he didn’t say anything. Maybe he couldn’t until they were alone.
Billy tapped the screen on the seatback TV showing their flight route and saw that they’d almost arrived. At least that was good news. Besides, what could he have been doing that was so bad? Well, apart from the massive hard-on and dreams of being in bed with Ian.
Which is when he remembered why they were on the airplane, and where they were going. Back to their childhood. Back to the horrors of grade school. Back to Mississippi, one of the least gay-friendly states in the US.
And once again he wished he’d been strong enough to refuse to attend this reunion no matter how much his family and friends had begged him to return.
* * * *
Ian smiled reassuringly at Billy. Yes, at thirty-three he was still Billy. Not Bill and definitely not William. Ian knew how much Billy hadn’t wanted to come to their school reunion but so many people had Facebooked them begging them to attend, and both sets of parents, his and Billy’s, had demanded they return, that here they were. It was the centenary of the school district with an entire week of celebrations planned.
It was fifteen years since they’d left, driving away together in a beat-up old Ford piled high with all their possessions. The first few years hadn’t been easy, studying and working, but they’d been together and that was enough for both of them. He’d had a full scholarship for track, and Billy had won a part-scholarship in poetry. The weird thing was, it had been Billy who’d paid their way in the end, winning an award for a poem he’d sent into a magazine, hoping for a hundred dollars if they printed it, and winning ten thousand instead.
New York was their home now, a city packed with gay bars, and gay friendly events, so different from their home town. Ian stared at Billy, hoping he’d be strong, hoping this wasn’t going to be a terrible mistake. Ian wanted it to be the catharsis that would free Billy from his fears of the past. That would make him strong again, to go out and conquer the world with his brilliant, evocative, mesmerizing words.
“Ready?” he asked smiling at his lover.
Billy stared at him, a worried frown on his face. “I should have bought a plain lounge suit. These clothes are fine for our normal parties but I don’t know—”
Ian hugged him gently. “We decided we would be ourselves this week. No acting, no pretending. We’re adults now with worthwhile careers and our own lives. Remember?”
Billy sighed. “In theory that sounds fine. But in practice I’m not so sure.”
Ian gripped his shoulders, willing Billy to look into his gaze. “You’re a success. You did what you always wanted to do, and you’ve made a good life for yourself. Hell, kids in school have to read your poetry now.”
Billy giggled with some of his normal enthusiasm. “That’s a fitting punishment for anyone to suffer.”
“Exactly. Now let’s go. Chin up and look them in the eye if they’re rude to you.”
He could feel Billy’s body shivering as he held his arm, so he rubbed his back gently. Ian would have simply raised his middle finger and told anyone who was rude to fuck off, but he knew this was more important than that to Billy. Billy needed to be accepted. It wasn’t enough that he’d proved to the whole world he was a talented poet. The people who really mattered were right here in his home town. They were the ones who’d sneered and laughed at him, who’d teased him and called him names. It was time for payback. Time for them to apologize. Although Ian didn’t think too many of them would. But as long as they accepted Billy and were polite, that’d do. If they were rude Ian would take care of them, as he always had done. He might not be a track star anymore, but he still knew how to punch. Preferably fast and hard before the other guy expected him to.
The limo stopped outside the conference center door, and the driver raced around to open the car door for them. They thanked him and he got back in the limo and drove away, but they just stood there under the starry sky. Ian waited patiently as Billy drew heaving breaths of warm summer night into his lungs.
“Ready?” he asked gently.
“I guess so.”
He didn’t sound very confident. Ian entwined his fingers with Billy’s, and gripped his hand tightly. “You can do it,” he said softly.
A doorman held the conference center door open for them, and then marched staidly across the marble floored foyer to two huge wooden doors. He waited until Billy nodded before opening the door on the right. Hand in hand they walked in to a huge room that was packed with maybe a thousand guests, the women in glittering ball gowns, the men in tuxedos and dress suits.
Across the stage in huge rainbow colored letters was a sign. “Welcome home, Billy. Hilltown’s most famous son.”
A thousand people stomped their feet and clapped their hands in unison, chanting, “Bill-y, Bill-y, Bill-y!”
Ian’s eyes filled with tears and his heart almost burst with pride. Hell yes. At last Billy was being awarded the honor that was his due. His nervous, emotional, immensely talented lover had been accepted for himself at last.
I have a male/male romance in “Naughty Haunts” called “Were the Hell” and one in “Naughty Flings” called, “The Loch Ness Monster, Romeo and Julio”.
Septimus has to learn why no female weres have been born into his pack. When he walks into the meeting room he smells his mate. A male.
Buy link:
https://www.amazon.com/Naughty-Haunts-Eleven-Spooky-Stories-ebook/dp/B01KL51ILI/
Fraser Campbell and Cameron MacDonald are sent to Glasgow on business. Cam’s determined to see the Loch Ness monster. Fraser just wants Cam.
Buy link:
https://www.amazon.com/Naughty-Flings-Twelve-Little-Romps-ebook/dp/B00X8D6E6U/
Berengaria Brown
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http://berengariasblog.blogspot.com/
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http://www.bookstrand.com/berengaria-brown
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http://www.amazon.com/Berengaria-Brown/e/B00541R3YQ/
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