Lush in Lace (6 page)

“What the fuck are you doing here, Rylan?” I
growled, embarrassed, angry, and still very much aroused.

“I could ask you the same question, Lush, but
I figured it out pretty quickly.”

“Oh god,” I groaned, turning my body farther
away from him.

“Need some help with that?” he offered
smugly.

He had no clue the impact those five little
words had on my cock which was already full to bursting.

“Fuck off, Squeaker,” I bit out.

“Testy tonight, aren’t we, Lush. I wonder why
that could be?”

“You’re a sadistic asshole.”

“Hey, you were the one who started this whole
thing.”

“I did not.”

“As a matter of fact you did, or do you need
me to refresh your memory?”

I glared at him over my shoulder. “What I
need is privacy and a little breathing room. These torture devices
you picked out are cutting off my circulation. ”

My statement wasn’t entirely true. The
underwear would have fit reasonably well if it wasn’t for my
larger-than-average size and my aroused state.

“So you did wear them? I’ve been wondering
all day,” he replied.

Between keeping our brothers separated before
the wedding, standing up as best men during the ceremony, and
posing for pictures at the reception, Rylan and I hadn’t had much
time to talk privately until now.

I scoffed at his comment. “It’s a thousand
dollars. You knew I’d be wearing them, Squeaker.”

“Let’s see.” He motioned for me to turn
around.

“Fuck no!”

“How can I be sure you’re not lying if I
can’t see for myself?”

He had to have known I’d kept up my end of
the bargain. He’d witnessed me squirming all afternoon.

“Oh I get it. You’re afraid I’ll finally find
out the high school rumors about Lush’s monster cock were all lies.
Is that it?” he goaded me.

“You know damn well I’m wearing them, Rylan,”
I replied, growing more agitated by the second. With my dick still
hard, I couldn’t shove it back into my pants, and there was no
chance of my erection fading anytime soon with Rylan standing close
behind me.

“Are you forfeiting then, Lush? Because the
way I see it, you have two choices: you can either show me what
you’re hiding over there, or you can zip up and owe me a grand.
Either way, you need to make it quick. You’ve only got about five
more minutes before your brother sends out the search party. He’s
probably already wondering why I’m not back yet.”

Rylan was backing me into a corner and from
the smugness of his tone, he knew exactly what he was doing.
Unfortunately, my options were limited. I’d willingly agreed to the
stupid bet, and it wasn’t unreasonable for him to want proof of my
compliance before forking over a thousand dollars. However, that
still didn’t make showing Rylan my cock any easier.

It wasn’t because I had anything to be
embarrassed about in the size department. The high school rumors
were true—all of them—and it’d be slightly satisfying to confirm
them for Rylan. However, showing him my cock was a lot different
than parading around naked in front of dozens of men in the locker
room after a football game. For one, I wasn’t attracted to any of
the other jocks in the locker room and secondly, I’d never had to
display my boner while it was encased in ladies’ lace panties
before.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t afford to refuse
his request. I steeled my shoulders, pulled as much of the thin
lace material over my cock as possible, and slowly turned to face
Rylan. Because of my aroused state, the head of my dick stuck out
from the elastic waistband of the panties. It was difficult to see
Rylan’s reaction in the darkened room, but I could palpably feel
his eyes honing in on my crotch. I took a deep breath and held it
while lifting my shirttails, so he could get a good look at what
he’d ultimately be paying a grand for later.

I probably imagined Rylan’s gasp and the
rapid change in his breathing, especially since my own pulse was
drumming in my ears.

A few seconds was more than long enough for
him to confirm that I’d held up my end of the bargain. So, when no
snide comments followed Rylan’s appraisal, I let my shirttails fall
back into place. With his curiosity satisfied, I was certain he’d
be on his way.

Instead Rylan twirled his index finger in a
downward circle. “Now the back,” he demanded.

“Forget it. You don’t need to see my ass,
perv,” I replied, shocked by his request.

“How do I know you didn’t swap my manties out
for a more sensible pair?” Rylan asked.

“Manties?”

“Man panties,” he clarified.

I shook my head, not even wanting to question
if that was a real word, though it did explain the
larger-than-average size of the underwear. “Where the hell would I
fucking get man panties?” I bit back.

“Don’t know? Maybe that magic place called
the Internet that you seem so intimately familiar with? I wouldn’t
put anything past you, Lush.”

“I fucking hate you,” I grumbled while giving
him my back once again. Slowly, I lowered my pants. The cool air of
the room drifted over my exposed butt cheeks. I counted to five
Mississippis in my head before covering back up.

“Happy now?” I asked him.

“Like a fat man at a buffet,” he muttered,
though his fists were clenched, and he didn’t appear the least bit
happy. “Now zip up so we can head back.”

Impossible.

My dick was still hard as stone, maybe even
harder than before I’d exposed myself to Rylan. There was no way I
could zip up my pants without doing serious damage.

“I-I can’t,” I mumbled.

“You’d better,” he warned. “There are way too
many gay men who’d kill to walk in here any minute. Unless that’s
secretly what you’re hoping for, Lush?”

“Hell no! Don’t worry; I’ll follow you
downstairs in a few minutes, okay?” I added, hoping to appease
him.

“No. We’re going back, now.”

“Fuck, Squeaker. I’m too hard to fit in my
pants,” I admitted both frustrated and embarrassed. “So either give
me the privacy I need, or there won’t be a hope in hell of ever
getting the wedding pictures done today.”

He was speechless, his gaze raking up and
down my body. It took several heartbeats, but after his initial
shock at my statement wore off, he grabbed the door handle and
peeked out into the hall. “You’ve got three minutes, Lush. Make
them count,” he advised, looking back at me one last time before
heading out, shutting the door behind him.

I’d expected more of a challenge from him and
was grateful for the reprieve. Luckily, the memory of Rylan’s eyes
on my body was all it took to get the job done. In less than two
minutes, I was neatly tucked away and composed.

When I emerged from the small room, I found
Rylan outside, guarding the door.

“You okay?” I asked, wondering why he
appeared angry.

“Fucking fabulous. Let’s just get back,” he
grumbled, storming off down the hall ahead of me.

Although I was feeling cooler, freer, and
much more relaxed after my detour into the supply closet, I still
had to make it through the rest of the wedding to win the bet.

It’s gonna be one hell of a long
night,
I thought, following in step behind Rylan and feeling my
thong once again ride up into the crack of my ass.

****

-Rylan-

Nothing could have prepared me for the sight
of Scott Lush’s huge, thick, erect cock surrounded by layers of
lace. Not to mention his high, perfectly round ass split by that
tiny piece of floss. It was nearly impossible to pretend that the
sight of his manhood hadn’t affected me. To make matters worse, I
had to casually wait outside in the hall, listening to his soft
grunts of pleasure as he jacked off.

Fuck! This is how I’m going to die—blue
balled, on the night of my brother’s wedding, and still owing Scott
Lush a thousand dollars,
I thought to myself.
How
tragic.

This wedding was supposed to be a prime
opportunity for some sweet ass—all weddings are. However, as hard
as it was for me to admit, the only sweet ass I’d wanted since the
minute he’d rolled back into town was Scott’s.

Fuck!
I cursed again.
What the hell
was I thinking giving him stockings and manties to wear?

In my defense, I truly thought that Lush in
lace would look ridiculous—overly large, bulky, and way too
masculine. Unfortunately for me, nothing could have been further
from the truth. The stark, white lace of the lingerie was a perfect
contrast to Scott’s slightly tanned skin, softening his hard edges
and making him appear vulnerable.

For years now, I’d foolishly thought that my
attraction to men wearing stockings and lace stemmed from my secret
desire for dominance and control. However, seeing Scott tonight, I
knew the truth. The lace and stockings did nothing to detract from
his masculine power and strength; instead they actually enhanced
his confidence. Even in lace, Scott was a force to be reckoned
with. Nothing had ever turned me on more. I could stare at him like
that for the rest of my life and die a happy man. Too bad I’d never
again have that chance.

During the dinner and toasts I was
distracted, images of Scott in that small storage room haunting me.
The only time I was truly focused was when Jamie and BJ got up to
speak. Their words of genuine love for one another made me feel
even more melancholy, which was not a good addition to my already
fragile state.

I had to admit that BJ’s speech was
surprisingly touching, especially since he was the less emotional
one of the couple. It wasn’t only BJ’s words, but the way he looked
at my brother when he spoke them, that ensured there wasn’t a dry
eye in the room afterward.

BJ shared a brief emotional history of their
lives together. He began by explaining that he knew from their
first game of checkers that he and Jamie would always be connected.
BJ spoke of the night of his mother’s death when Jamie wrapped his
arms around him for the first time, comforting him. He relived
their first awkward kiss on the backyard swing after which he
subsequently threw up from both nerves and excitement. BJ had the
whole crowd in stitches after sharing some of the crazy antics
Jamie had gotten himself into over the years. He spoke lovingly
about Jamie’s impulsiveness and wished that his husband never lost
his childlike enthusiasm for everything because it kept BJ from
becoming a grumpy old soul.

However, the real tearjerker came when BJ
looked at Jamie and thanked him—not only for being his best friend
but for having the courage to love him. He shared with us how much
it meant that never once had Jamie ever asked him to be anything
more than the man he was. Then BJ looked out into the crowd and
wished that all of us could find someone to love as deeply as he
loved Jamie. His words were powerful, especially in a room filled
with gay men and women. We all stood and cheered, clinking our
glasses and drying our eyes on cream-colored, linen napkins, even
Scott dabbed at his eyes a time or two.

After the speeches, I hit the bar, figuring
whiskey dick might be a welcome salvation from my thoughts of Scott
tonight, but it was a wasted effort. Every time I looked over at
him, I’d picture his monster cock cradled in lace and recall the
tiny little grunts I heard through the door as he came, and my dick
would double in size.

Fuck.

My only consolation was that Scott looked
increasingly uncomfortable as the night wore on. I’d lost count of
how many times he’d headed to the bathroom. His discomfort should
have made me feel at least a little bit guilty, but it didn’t. All
I felt was horny and frustrated.

I noticed, too, that Scott hadn’t consumed
one drop of alcohol the entire night. It was another reminder of
how different we were. From what I knew of Scott’s past, his
father’s heavy drinking had ultimately caused his death, not that
Scott ever shared anything personal like that with me. Any
information about Scott’s past, I’d learned from BJ or Jamie.
According to BJ, Scott and his mom lived through a hell of a lot of
verbal abuse during his father’s final years. I figured it was the
reason I’d never seen Scott drink, not even when all the other high
school seniors were partying with their fake IDs.

As the night wore on and the festivities
began to die down, I knew it was time to put us both out of our
misery. Scott was standing alone out on the terrace when I found
him, his ass resting against the ornate metal railing. I had every
intention of bowing out in defeat and leaving. However, the minute
I looked into his deep-green eyes, I knew I couldn’t let him go
without one last look at what I’d paid for.

I stalked toward him, his eyes cautiously
following me until I stopped with less than a few inches separating
my body from his. Neither of us spoke, not wanting to disrupt the
momentary truce that seemed to hover around us.

Courageously, I reached out and touched his
belt buckle.

“W-what are you doing?” he hissed
breathlessly.

The whiskey gave me the courage I needed to
forge ahead. “Just checking,” I answered, hooking my fingers over
the waistband of his pants and prying them away from his body.
Thankfully, my eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to make out
that his manhood was still snuggly encased in lace.

Scott held his body stiff as a board, barely
breathing, while I took this one last opportunity to look my
fill.

“Satisfied?” he whispered hoarsely, breaking
the short stretch of silence.

“Not yet.”

I released my hold on his pants, stepping
further into him. He had nowhere to go, trapped between the rail at
his back and the solid length of my body at his front. Scott could
have easily pushed me away. Even at the same height, his body
dwarfed mine in overall size, but still he didn’t move.