The limo made excellent time through the streets of New York. Before it�s occupants even realized, the car had stopped and the driver opened the door. Amidst the cheering fans, two men emerged onto the red carpet for the 2001 MTV Video Music Awards. Richie Sambora loved music. He loved the fans. He loved the guys in the band. He loved every little thing about his life. He even loved, as other artists called them, the dreaded �award shows�. Life just couldn�t get any better. Posing for yet another photographer, Richie smiled his biggest smile and glanced around at the crowd that was forming. The VH1 Fashion Police to the right (God no, he thought, not with Jon wearing that stupid hat)...E! to the left....John Norris and the Backstreet Boys dead ahead. Knowing the difficulties the Backstreet Boys had endured that summer and how honest they had been with their fans, Richie wanted to hear what they had to say so he slowed down to listen to the interview. Before he even realized what was happening, he had stopped and found that his eyes were drawn to the eldest member of the group. "Jesus," his breath catching as he watched the graceful ease with which the man carried himself. "That�s Kevin isn�t it, Jon," his head motioning toward the tall man talking to John Norris. "Umm...Nick�s the blonde...ah...AJ in the hat....tall...goatee...long dark hair...yeah..that�s Kevin," his friend replied as he attempted to keep them moving. Richie found it was taking all he had to put one foot in front of the other and keep walking. "Look at him...., he muttered to himself, "he looks like he got laid on the way here." Swallowing hard, all he could think about was how he wished he�d just gotten laid..... By the Backstreet Boy........ "Shit...," his head tilting as he followed the lines of the other man�s body downward, "he�s wearin� a skirt...a fucking skirt....." I�m sick...really sick...now I want laid by the skirt wearin� Backstreet Boy...hell I want him while he�s still wearin� the skirt. He felt his mouth go dry as his already tight jeans suddenly felt tighter. Listening to their interview didn�t seem to matter any longer. What the hell is wrong with me? Why is a guy turning me on? Why am I wishing he�d lose the pants that are under the skirt? He�s a guy...IN A FUCKING SKIRT, the voice in his head started to shout loudly. He ignored it. If he didn�t have those pants on under there...what would he feel like? Does he know I�m getting a fucking hard on? Does he know I�m getting even harder wondering what it would feel like to ...to...just slip my hands up under that skirt...to make him hard...as fucking ha.... "Richie?" "Hard" "Huh?" his friend raised an eyebrow and stared. "What??" "You look strange dude. You feel okay...you look a little flushed," Jon leaned closer trying to not look concerned. "I�m fine....nothin� wrong...nothin� at all." Nothing except a Backstreet Boy in a skirt....who I want to just bend o....... "RICH....just keep walking...we�ll be out here all night." Richie tried to walk past the younger man....he tried....honest to God...he really did. It didn�t work. It was like that urge you have when you see a car wreck...you have to see...you have to look...you have to stare. So...he did. As he stood watching the younger man, all he could think about was how much he wanted to show Kevin everything he had to offer. How he wanted to explain to him what it could mean to really "ride a steel horse"... how he wanted to wrap his long fingers in that thick mass of hair...look into those heavy-lidded green eyes and roughly pull the man in for a kiss...capturing Kevin�s mouth...parting his lips....wanting to feel the soft velvet of his tongue, knowing that it would send an electrical current of passion straight to his already hardening cock. Wondering how it would feel as Kevin pressed his hips into his own as their kiss deepened...how his large hands would travel down Kevin�s back until they reached his firm tight ass....how he would use his long fingers to tightly grasp the younger man�s ass and pull him...closer....feeling that Kevin�s arousal was now as evident as his own..... What the fuck????, he nervously shifted from side to side. This is not normal....I�m straight...what the hell??? And then it happened. Kevin spoke. Richie had now heard his sexy deep voice. He had no idea what Kevin said to John Norris, because in his head, all he heard was his name...Richie....passing over Kevin�s lips in a soft moan. Oh shit..... He could almost feel the sensual movements of Kevin's hips against him....the friction from their erections touching...pressing into each other.. causing his knees to weaken and, in turn, causing him to call the younger man's name....... "Kevin...," it was a whispered moan on his lips...his eyes closed as his head fell back. "HEY!" He heard the unmistakable sound of crunching straw as a cowboy hat hit him between the shoulder blades. A muffled, "Whatthefuck," was lost in the back of his jacket as Jon ran smack dab into him. Richie reached down, attempting to adjust himself. He was hoping that the hardness in his pants wouldn't be visible to his partner, who now sat, flat on his ass, on the red carpet. He reached down and helped the little man back to his feet. "Sorry, man", he mumbled with an embarrassed smile, "I don't know who...I mean WHAT got into me..." his voice trailing off as he stood back up. When he finally turned back around, he looked toward JohnNorris, but the beautiful man in the skirt had disappeared into the crowd.... HOME |
| What IS Under That Skirt? co-written with Sundance **yes, this involves two men..it's slash..it's fiction. Don't like it..don't read it.** |
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