Authors: A.J. Ridges
Tags: #contemporary, #humorous, #lingerie, #gay for you, #enemies to lovers, #bickering best men, #fetish toys, #nerd jock, #panty scorcher, #porngasmic fluff
Copyright © 2015 A. J. Ridges
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment
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Cover Art by AJ Ridges
My brother, Jamie, finally got to marry his lifelong
best friend, BJ, this weekend. I was Jamie’s best man, and Scott
was BJ’s best man. Not an ideal situation for either of us, since
Scott and I have been enemies since high school. Somehow we managed
to get through the weeks before the wedding without killing each
other (barely), but then the bachelor party incident occurred and
added fuel to the fire.
Now we argue even more, and the sexual tension
between us is unbearable, at least for me. Unfortunately, I have
things I like— kinky things— that Scott would never be able to
handle, probably because he’s not even gay. Or at least that’s what
I always thought, but now I’m not so sure and apparently neither is
Table of Contents
The story you are about to read celebrates
love, sex and romance between men. It is a product of the
is an Open Road
promotion sponsored by the
and is published as a gift to you.
Goodreads M/M Romance Group
invited members to choose a photo and pen a letter asking for a
short M/M romance story inspired by the image; authors from the
group were encouraged to select a letter and write an original
tale. The result was an outpouring of creativity that shone a
spotlight on the special bond between M/M romance writers and the
people who love what these authors do.
A written description of the image that
inspired this story is provided along with the original request
letter. If you’d like to view the photo, please feel free to join
Goodreads M/M Romance Group
and visit the discussion
Love is an Open Road
No matter if you are a long-time devotee to
M/M Romance, just new to the genre or fall somewhere in between,
you are in for a delicious treat.
This story may contain sexually explicit
content and is
intended for adult readers
. It may contain
content that is disagreeable or distressing to some readers. The
M/M Romance Group
strongly recommends that each reader
review the General Information section before each story for story
tags as well as for content warnings.
Each year, a dedicated group of Volunteers
M/M Romance Group
work hard behind the scenes to
bring these stories to you. Our Editors, Formatters, Proofreaders,
and those working on Quality Assurance, spend many long hours over
a course of several months so that each Event is a success. As each
and every author also gives freely of their time and talent, it was
decided that all edits suggested may be accepted or rejected by the
author at any given time. For this reason, some stories will appear
to be more tightly edited than others, depending on the choice of
This story is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely
A view of the midsection of a man in a black
formal tuxedo. His pants hang halfway open, showing white lace
panties and thigh-high, beige, lace-topped stockings. He wears a
white satin glove on his right hand. The gloved hand is wrapped
around the base of his large, exposed, erect cock. The mushroomed
head of his cock is well defined and a stark contrast to the white
lace panties and white glove he’s wearing.
My brother finally got to marry his lifelong
best friend, Barry, this weekend. I was Jamie’s best man and Scott
was Barry’s best man. I had met Scott previously when he and I
attended the same high school, though we ran with different crowds.
He was a jock and I was a nerd, yet I always had a secret crush on
him. During the week leading up to the wedding we spent a lot of
time together—from running errands for the grooms to attending the
stag party last night. He’s personable, though seems more subdued
than he did in high school, but he’s still built like a jock and
well-hung. Yes, I noticed that bulge in his jeans, but I’m sure
he’ll never be the man for me. I want someone softer, more
feminine. I even harbor a secret wish that my yet-to-be-met life
mate will enjoy wearing women’s lingerie. And that, of course,
would never fit with Scott’s persona.
I would absolutely love a GFY story and
would like the man in the photo to be Scott. Perhaps I could catch
him in the restroom at the wedding with his hand down in that sexy
lingerie? I don’t want to stifle creative freedom though, so names
and situations can be changed. Please give the guys a HEA and avoid
dub-con and non-con. BDSM is okay, especially D/s
enemies to lovers, gay for you, out for
you, humorous, snarky, bickering best men, lingerie
(maties/stockings), fetish/toys, nerd/jock, panty-scorcher,
porngasmic fluff, family
I would like to give my heartfelt thanks to
Barb-rede-2-read for her unique spin on this tantalizing prompt.
Unknowingly, she made me take this story in a direction I never
would have considered, and I’m so grateful for that. I’d like to
thank my beta readers Ren and Armi. Even with your busy schedules,
you took the time to help make this story so much better. I can’t
express how much that means to me! Finally, special thanks to the
moderators of GR’s M/M Romance Group for coordinating this
initiative, the volunteer editors, proofreaders, formatters and the
QA team. Without all their hard work, these stories wouldn’t exist.
Thank you to my future readers and fans… I love you
“Seize the enemy!” I shouted at the top of my
lungs in my best mock Viking/pirate voice. I swayed slightly on the
tiny tabletop where I stood overlooking the crowd of scantily clad
men. With one hand, I held my imaginary sword high in the air, and
with the other, I pointed toward the shocked man who’d just entered
the club’s private back room.
At my command, a chorus of hoots and hollers
exploded from the crowd of at least forty men who’d gathered here
for my big brother, Jamie’s, bachelor party. Without hesitation,
five of Jamie’s friends set in motion to do my bidding, probably
because I was the mastermind behind this kick-ass stag party.
In two days, Jamie would marry the man of his
dreams. However, before that day would come, I was going to ensure
he had the best stag night ever, even if that meant keeping a
watchful eye out for “enemy spies.”
It took all five men to wrestle Scott
Lush—aka the enemy spy—onto the single wooden chair at the edge of
the dance floor. I even think I saw one of the bouncers offer up
his handcuffs in support of their efforts. Surprisingly, the built
jock didn’t put up much of a fight, probably too shell-shocked by
the crowd’s enthusiastic welcome to react.
Serves him right
, I thought as I
jumped down from my perch and headed toward him. I’d warned him
yesterday not to show up.
Scott Lush wasn’t welcome here.
I’d sent out all the invitations myself and
specifically excluded Scott and his brother BJ (yep, my brother’s
fiancé’s name is BJ).
Okay, so it stands for Barry Jr., but
personally, I’d rather slit my wrists than share initials with a
sex act for the rest of my life.
BJ didn’t give a shit about
what I or anyone else thought about his name. I had to admit I
liked that about him, but not enough to invite him or his groomsmen
to Jamie’s stag.
Jamie and BJ had been in a relationship since
they were sixteen. Now, twelve years later, they were finally
getting married, and I felt my brother deserved one last night of
fun before the big day. Thankfully, BJ agreed. He trusted his
fiancé and wanted Jamie to have a good time. Unfortunately, BJ’s
stepbrother Scott didn’t share his opinion. Even though Scott
trusted my often impulsive brother, he sure as hell didn’t trust
me. Looking around the room now, I couldn’t really blame him. The
men in attendance had wholeheartedly embraced the “
” theme I’d come up with for the event.
Every man in the place proudly showed off his
“horn” in one way or another. Men of all shapes and sizes gyrated
to the beat of the DJ’s music, wearing skimpy jocks or thongs with
some variation of horn affixed to the front. There were even a few
more adventurous partygoers who’d donned full animal costumes—the
elephant sporting a supersized trunk made a statement, and the
gorilla with the banana “horn” was impossible to miss. As expected,
by this late hour, there were even a handful of partygoers who’d
consumed enough alcohol to remove their fake horns altogether in
favor of displaying the real thing. As for the “heels,” they were
everywhere too—boots, pumps, wedges, stilettos, peep toes—you name
it. Sexy high heels adorned male feet in abundance tonight.
The groom-to-be wasn’t excluded either. I had
taken particular care to make sure Jamie was outfitted in something
a little more modest while still keeping with the theme. My brother
wore a tight-fitted black tee and black velvet shorts that read
“honk if you like my horn.” The shorts had a red-and white
bull’s-eye embroidered on the back. Every time a partygoer slapped
Jamie on the ass, a deafeningly loud horn would go off. Needless to
say, Jamie’s “horn” had been going off all night. So much so, that
after the first hour, he was forced to take a permanent seat at the
poker table or risk having a sore ass and a lot to answer for on
his wedding night.
I chose a more fitting outfit for the theme.
I wasn’t as big or built as Scott Lush, but years of jujitsu
lessons left my body toned and sleek. Tonight, I wanted to show
that body off, but not because I knew Scott Lush would likely show
up at Jamie’s stag.
No, that was definitely not the reason.
Besides, why would I want my brother’s straight, soon-to-be
brother-in-law to notice my body?
Sadly, that was a question I’d been asking
myself for months, ever since the sexy-as-sin, twenty-five-year-old
Scott Lush came back into town.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t secretly thrilled
with the way Scott Lush surveyed my barely clothed body as I
approached the chair he’d been handcuffed to.
Tonight, I wore faux fur short-shorts with a
Viking’s horn strategically placed in front to protect my modesty.
My bare, tanned chest glistened with a slight sheen of
perspiration. A horned helmet adorned my head, and on my feet were
lace-up brown leather boots that matched the color of the fur on my
shorts. Sadly, I was totally incompetent in heels, so the boots
were a good compromise.
I could have sworn I saw a spark of desire
flash in Scott’s piercing green eyes as they lingered on my horn
for several heartbeats. However, my imagination was probably
playing tricks on me due to the dim lighting in the room and the
drinks I’d consumed earlier in the evening.