Wedding Heat: Hole In One (MMM) (3 page)

Steady?
Joey’s knees had turned to Jell-o the moment Greg’s erection
pummelled his ass. Still, he mumbled, “Okay,” and tried not to keel
over.

“Get outta the way, Remi!” Greg tightened
his grip on Joey’s arms. “I’m gonna teach this boy a thing or two.
Joey, keep your left arm straight and your right arm slightly bent
as you start your swing.”

Remi had barely jumped out of the club’s
path before Greg was forcing Joey to swing.

“Left arm straight,” Remi instructed,
watching intently.

“Yeah, I already said that!” Greg hollered.
He was too short to see over Joey’s shoulder, and when he spoke
Joey felt the resonance against his back.

“Just a reminder,” Remi said. He seemed much
calmer than Greg, who was hugging Joey so tight it was nearly
impossible to breathe. “No, you’re still bending your left arm.
Keep it straight.”

“Keep it straight!” Greg hollered, maybe to
mock Remi and maybe just to be louder.

“But it feels weird,” Joey said, straining
not to bend his arm. “Guys, damn, this feels really unnatural! I
didn’t think it would hurt so much.”

“Just go with it,” Remi encouraged. “It’ll
get easier with practice.”

“Plant your right foot into the ground,”
Greg said, like he was competing with Remi. “Balance on it while
you take the club back as far as you can.”

Joey’s muscles twinged. He nearly jumped
when Greg’s man-purse (or “European men’s satchel,” as Greg called
it) slipped and whacked him in the thigh. The position felt weird
and wrong, and he just wanted to escape these warring golfers and
their militant advice.

“Keep your eyes on the ball,” Remi said. His
voice was still very calm, but it was louder now that he was
competing with Greg.

“You’re gonna take the swing now, Joey.”
Greg hugged him hard, and all he could feel was that solid cock
pummelling his ass while his left arm needled with strain. “Make
sure to turn your hips on the follow-through, okay?”

“And don’t lift your head until you feel
your shoulder under your chin,” Remi added.

“I was just gonna say that!” Greg
shrieked.

Tightening his grip on Joey’s arms, Greg
brought them down into the swing. Of course, Joey was too afraid of
whacking Greg to go at it with any force. When his club struck
down, the ball just bounced away like a big white marble.

Greg loosened his grip and stepped away from
Joey. Remi stared at the ball and didn’t say anything. Joey just
shook his head.

“It’s okay,” Greg encouraged. “Try again.
Practice makes perfect.”

“I don’t want to try again,” Joey snapped.
He knew why he’d made such a crappy shot, but the guys obviously
thought he just sucked. That embarrassed him so much he didn’t even
want to talk about it.

Gripping his stupid golf club, Joey turned
away from the guys and took off down a wooded path by the clearing.
He marched at quite a clip, swinging his club at the tall grasses
while he crushed small branches underfoot. His chest felt tight,
like he was angry, but he didn’t know what he was angry about.

Joey didn’t want to golf, he just wanted
Greg to suck his goddamn dick. Was that really too much to ask?

He stopped in his track, gazing at the club
in his hand. That’s when he realized what an asshole he’d been.
Greg wanted to share this hobby with him, and all Joey could think
about was the next blowjob.

Footsteps landed in the dry needles behind
him, and he turned, knowing exactly who it would be.

“Hey,” Joey said, looking at Greg’s eyes
instead of his bulge. “Look, man, I’m really sorry. I’ve been
acting like a total dick.”

“Yeah!” Greg shot back in his super-bitchy
voice. Then he shrugged and tilted his head. “Whatever, it doesn’t
matter.”

Joey realized he hadn’t said what he was
sorry for, and he wondered if Greg thought he was apologizing for
being bad at golf.

Whacking his club through the reedy grasses,
Joey tried hard to read Greg’s expression. Should he head back to
the tees and try again? He didn’t feel like it, but if that’s what
Greg wanted…

“Would you ever let me fuck you?” Greg asked
casually, like Joey’s apology naturally bled into the topic.

Joey’s ass tightened. His dick pulsed
against his pants. “I… I don’t know. You mean with your… in
my…?”

Cackling like a crow, Greg closed in on him
and let a confident hand cup Joey’s crotch. “You’ve gone all
bashful on me, huh? Well, this guy down here certainly knows what
he wants.”

When Greg started rubbing Joey’s dick
through his khakis, he let out an animal groan and then stifled
himself. Sure they were shielded by trees, but they were still in a
public place.

“Dude, what if we get caught?”

Greg leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “You
didn’t seem worried about getting caught last night when you fucked
me by the lake or after breakfast when you pushed me to my
knees.”

Joey groaned as Greg unzipped his khakis,
finding his hard-on and rubbing it skin-to-skin. Greg’s fist was
small but powerful, and Joey’s hips started thrusting, wanting
more. He watched his dick bursting through the ring of Greg’s
fingers and something inside his chest shuddered.

“Remember jerking each other off in the
water?” Greg asked, in a whispered growl.

“How could I forget?” It had only happened
last night, when they were skinny dipping with the guys.

“Remember you were scared to grab my dick?”
Greg teased.

“I wasn’t scared.” Joey rolled his eyes.

“Yes you were.”

“No I wasn’t!” Only, then it occurred to him
that this was Greg’s backward way of asking him to reciprocate.
Joey cupped Greg’s balls. “So, when are you going to take off those
ugly-ass pants?”

“Bitch!” Greg shot back. “These babies are
vintage.”

Joey just laughed. A surge of dark heat went
through him. He clasped the zipper on Greg’s pants and tried to
slide it down nonchalantly. God, why was he so nervous about
this?

Tsking his teeth, Greg said, “Ugh, you’re
taking forever! It’s like you’ve never undressed a guy before.”

“Well, I haven’t!” Joey said. There was
something he really liked about the catty way Greg talked to him.
Joey had never really thought of himself as gay, even if he was
attracted to other guys. But Greg? Greg was super-gay.
Unapologetically gay. And Joey admired that.

While Greg undressed and meticulously folded
that vintage outfit, Joey dropped his pants. They trapped his
ankles together, since he couldn’t slide them past his shoes, but
he leaned his golf club against his hip so he could tear out of his
shirt.

Greg yanked the club away, naked except for
his ugly-ass argyle socks, his shoes and golf cap.

“What’s scarier?” Greg held the club in one
hand and his dick in the other, like he was making a comparison.
“My cock in your ass, or this club?”

Joey laughed. That must be
a joke, right?
Right?

“Gotta start somewhere,” Greg said. “And the
club isn’t quite as massive as my huge dick.”

Joey swallowed hard. His throat felt full of
cotton. He couldn’t speak as Greg dug into his man-purse and pulled
out condoms and lube. “Bend over.”

Joey’s voice broke as he asked, “Why?”

Greg ripped one condom packet away from the
rest and tore into it. “Because I said so.”

Joey’d been really hard
until now. Suddenly his erection dwindled and his dick hung limp on
a pillow of balls. Just the idea of getting fucked by
anything
…

“I don’t have all day,” Greg chided, tapping
his foot on the ground. “The big wedding party thingy is tonight
and I need the afternoon to style my hair.”

Rolling his eyes, Joey smiled. Despite his
trepidations, he couldn’t help finding Greg amusing. “Hey, isn’t it
kind of weird that Maggie and Ed are basically having their wedding
reception and rehearsal dinner in one night?”

“God, don’t remind me—I have to go to Ed’s
straight-guy bachelor party afterward. Whoever planned this wedding
weekend should be burned at the stake.”

“I guess it sort of makes sense,” Joey said,
realizing he’d found a way to distract Greg from shoving things up
his ass. “Because my Aunt Janet wanted Maggie getting married on a
Sunday, but then if they had the big party after that everyone
would be driving home drunk and that’s no good, so—”

“Stop talking.”

Greg approached Joey ominously. He thrust a
condom over the club’s cylindrical grip, and Joey could only thank
god the thing wasn’t flared. Small mercies.

“Bend over,” Greg instructed. “Use that rock
ledge.”

The rock was lush with deep green moss, and
Joey was glad there was something to cushion his hands and knees.
With his pants around his ankles, Joey hopped to the ledge and bent
over. It occurred to him that if he really didn’t want this he
could just pull up his pants and leave. So the truth? Well, maybe
he did want it. Maybe he was curious enough to go for it.

Lube first. Greg flooded Joey’s ass crack.
The slippery stuff rushed to coat his balls and he trembled. God,
what a weird feeling. Not bad, though. Pretty good.

Joey’s breath came faster as Greg’s free
hand met his balls, rubbing in the lube, coating them good. He
swallowed hard. Was he really ready for this?

“Didn’t you always dream of this?” Greg
taunted. “That one day you’d be out in the woods and some faggy
little dude would start shoving stuff up your ass?”

The dizziness was overwhelming, and Joey had
to lower his head to the moss. It smelled earthy and dense, like
life itself.

“Fuck,” Joey sighed.

“Fuck you?” Greg teased. “Don’t mind if I
do.”

Joey whipped his head around in terror. What
a relief when he realized Greg was just coming at him with a
finger. Even so, he tensed when Greg’s fingertip circled the tight
pucker of his ass. “Oh my god…”

“Do you ever do this when you jerk off?”
Greg asked, tracing rings around Joey’s hole. “Ever shove a finger
up your ass?”

Without another moment’s hesitation, Greg
shoved a ruthless finger past Joey’s clenched ass ring. He yelped,
processing the blaze quickly, holding on as it morphed into a warm,
glowing sort of pleasure.

“No.” Joey swallowed hard. “No, man.
Never.”

“Really?” Greg challenged
as he pumped his slick finger in Joey’s ass. “I don’t think I
believe you,
man
.”

Joey whimpered when Greg added another
finger, spreading the elastic grip of his ass. “Maybe,” he said.
“Yeah, I guess once or twice.”

“What else?”

Greg probed Joey’s ass, finding a spot that
made him gasp and clutch the moss. “What do you mean, what
else?”

“What else have you shoved up your ass?”

“Oh.” Well, that conditioner bottle with the
slim cylindrical cap, for starters. “Uhh… nothing.”

“You think I’m gonna
believe that?” Greg stroked that spot—what the hell
was
that spot? It felt
incredible. “Tell me what’s been in here, Joey boy. What, a carrot?
A banana?”

“No, nothing like that,” Joey cried. His
dick was hard as wood. “Oh fuck, that’s good.”

“Don’t you even think about
coming yet!” Greg smacked Joey’s hand away from his hard-on with
the silver head of that goddamn golf club. Well, at least the guy
didn’t plan on shoving
that
end up his ass! “Tell me what you’ve buried up
here.”

Greg plunged a third finger into Joey’s ass,
and a swift burn tore down his thighs. “Okay, okay! A conditioner
bottle—just the cap part.”

“What else?” Greg prodded.

Was there any sense in pretending? “A
marker,” he said. “A thick one.”

But Greg wasn’t satisfied. Three fingers
raced in and out of Joey’s ass as he asked, “What else?”

“Nothing!” Joey lied.

Greg knew better. “Something.”

God, was he really going to admit this?
“Okay, it was a piece of ginger root.”

Obviously Greg was impressed, because his
fingers slowed in Joey’s ass. “Ginger, eh? That’s kinky.”

“Yeah, well I peeled it so it wasn’t too
thick, but man, it burned so bad I had to shove the shower thingy
between my cheeks and wash out my ass. Hurt like hell.”

A deep growl emerged from Greg’s throat, and
he said, “Wish I had some now. I’d love to see you squirm.”

“Shit, you mean I’m not squirming enough
already?” Joey winced as Greg started rolling three fingers inside
his ass. It didn’t hurt, not really. The sensation was something
else, something wicked and unfamiliar. “God, you’re making my
thighs shake.”

“I know the feeling.” Greg’s erection
smacked Joey’s thigh. “I don’t know how much longer I can stand
here watching your sweet ass devour half my hand.”