Sunday Snog #180: Celebrating Marriage Equality!

In honor of the U.S. Supreme Court’s recent ruling on gay marriage, I’ve got a M/M snog for you today. This one’s from my sci fi erotic romance Quarantine.

When you’ve recovered from my snog, head back to Victoria’s place for more sexy Sunday kisses.

“You look like you’re feeling hot, Rafe. Why don’t you take off the monkey suit? You know I’m not contagious.” Dylan kept his voice low and even, as though he were trying to reassure a frightened animal. “Make yourself more comfortable. Don’t worry, nobody knows we’re here together. I blinded the spy eyes. And there’s no electricity anyway.” He stepped forward again. This time Rafe held his ground.

“Keep away from me, faggot!” Despite Rafe’s glare, this sounded more like a plea than a command. Dylan set the candle down on the rail separating the generators from the aisle. He closed the few feet of distance between them.

“Let me help you,” Dylan murmured, pulling the zip on the suit down to Rafe’s waist.

“Get your filthy hands off me!” Rafe yelled. But he didn’t move as Dylan opened the suit all the way down to his crotch. Dylan resisted the temptation to reach inside and stroke the erection he knew he’d find there. Instead, he pushed the garment off Rafe’s shoulders. The slithery fabric crumpled around Rafe’s knees.

“Relax,” said Dylan. “Sit down.” He seated himself on the bench, the polished wood cool against his bare buttocks. Like an automaton, Rafe did the same. The black man kicked off the biohazard gear. For a moment they simply stared at each other.

Dylan felt his nipples tighten and his cock lift under the guard’s scrutiny. It really was lucky the guy was so attractive. It made everything easier.

He could read the emotions shuttling across Rafe’s face. Hell, the guy was an open book. The anger was mostly gone. Now fear, guilt and lust battled it out on those noble features. Dylan sat quietly, holding Rafe’s eyes, his cock growing harder with every passing second. Rafe’s nostrils flared. He breathed through his mouth, panting as though he was running a marathon. His gaze flicked down to the rod of flesh rearing up from Dylan’s groin.

“What do you want?” he asked finally, his voice almost a whisper.

“You know what I want. You.”

He leant forward, brushing his lips across Rafe’s. The other man started. Dylan seized the guard’s shoulders and pulled him into a fierce kiss. Rafe did not resist. In fact, he opened his mouth to allow Dylan’s questing tongue inside.

Exultation flared in Dylan’s heart. Still devouring the guard’s mouth, he slid his hands down Rafe’s massive biceps and then over his solid chest, pulling at the Velcro that kept the shirt closed. The guard’s skin was smooth, warm, and moist with sweat. Dylan’s fingers skimmed over the patch of tight frizz between Rafe’s breasts, then fastened on one fat nipple. Rafe gasped, grabbed Dylan’s head, and deepened the kiss.

This was almost too easy. Dylan cupped the huge bulk of Rafe’s erection, trapped inside the tight trousers. “I want to see you naked,” he said, close to Rafe’s ear. “Please, baby…”

Rafe abruptly broke the embrace. Damn. Had he moved too fast for the homophobic guard? Rafe turned his broad back to Dylan and shucked off his shirt. Dylan licked his lips at the sight of the muscles shifting in that sleek, chocolate brown expanse. Rafe kicked off his boots then yanked his pants down to his ankles. Finally he peeled off the gloves and tossed them onto the concrete floor.

When he faced Dylan again, his eyes were glowing coals. His cock rose like a pillar of basalt between his powerful thighs. His abdomen rippled as he sucked in breath. He was magnificent, like some ancient god. Dylan wanted to worship him.