Sean threw the script he’d been trying to read beside him on the couch and groaned loudly into the silence. He couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t think. He felt restless and lethargic at the same time. His body thrummed to an inner music. He scrubbed his face with his hands and then stared at the ceiling.
He liked the script, more or less, but it was another bad guy role. There was no challenge to it; or not one that he could see at the moment, any way. At the moment he couldn’t really think at all about mundane things such as scripts and movie premieres. He squirmed as he felt a tightening in his groin. All day long, he’d fought the nervous, sexual energy building inside him. He’d forced his mind to think of things other than naked, twined bodies, slick with sweat and cum. He’d done calisthenics until he was prone with weariness. That had worked until the weariness wore off. He’d tried reading the newspaper, but the football scores blurred into one monotonous line. Manchester United sucked that year and there wasn’t much else you could say about it. Script reading had only worked until he found the first sex scene. Then he’d decided to vacuum the flat. He’d dusted the furniture to within an inch of its life after that. He’d even resorted to washing windows before returning to the script.
“This is fucking stupid,” he said aloud, just to hear something besides the incredible silence. He got up from the couch and began stripping his shirt off as he walked towards the bathroom. “Cold shower time.”
He tossed the shirt into the laundry hamper and stripped off his blue jeans and boxers and left them on the floor. His cock jutted thickly from between his legs, not quite rigid, but not quite flaccid, either.
“Behave,” he told it.
Standing beneath the spray, Sean tried not to think of his last shower. The one the night before, when he’d had company and greedy hands stroking and petting his wet body. He picked up the soap and worked lather into his palms. Absently, he ran his hands over his chest, swirling the fine hairs. His nipples peaked and tightened and he could resist just tweaking them. The familiar quiver deep in his groin reminded him that he was alone in the shower and he stopped caressing himself and got down to the business of washing. But of course, as his hands moved down over his lower belly and over his thighs, his cock shifted. He grasped his shaft and stroked it slowly for a moment, delighting in the slickness of the soap against his flesh.
“God, I’m such a wanker,” he said. Dimly he heard the phone ring and he quickly shut off the shower. Trailing soap suds and water, he rushed to the bedroom and snatched the receiver. “Hello?”
“I was beginning to think you weren’t speaking to me.”
“Sorry about that, I was in the shower.”
“Having a wank?”
Sean felt the color rise on his cheeks and his cock fairly snapped to attention. “I’m not a randy teen-ager?. I can control my sexual urges.”
“Pity. I just wanted to tell you that I’ll be late. The director’s taking five while he bitches out the poor cameraman. It’s been a hell of a long one.”
“And getting longer,” Sean said with irony as he stared at his now fully erect cock.
“I am sorry.”
“Comes with the territory.” Sean closed his eyes as he listened to the sexy voice and ran his hands over his cock and then fondled his balls.
“I’ll make it up to you.” There was a short pause. “If you want me to, that is. I mean—well, you know… If you’re interested.”
“Oh, I’m interested.” His voice deepened into a sexy growl.
“Dammit all. Annaud is calling us back.”
“Just let yourself in with the key tonight, will you?”
“Won’t you be there?”
Was that a note of panic? Sean produced his most wicked smile, the one that’d made him a famous villain. “Probably. But, really, there’s no need to stand on ceremony. After last night and all. Ah, he’s on a bit of a tear, isn’t he?”
“I better go. The longer I delay, the longer we’re all stuck here.”
“Tonight.”
“Ciao.”
Sean lay back against the pillows, ignoring the fact that his wet body saturated the satin fabric. His eyes narrowed as he tickled his belly with his fingertips and circled the indentation of his navel. His hand slipped lower, tugging the curls at the base of his cock, before sliding along the throbbing vein of his shaft. What was it about that deep, masculine voice that turned him on so? Spreading his thighs, Sean continued to think about his lover and the sensuous voice whispering love words in his ear. He smiled to himself as he fingered his opening, feeling the tight ring relax slightly as he gently probed. Stretching his hand, he was just able to stroke the space between his balls and his hole and his balls drew tighter in response. Sean used his other hand to stroke the length of his cock. With his eyes closed, he imagined it was someone else. Someone with vivid blue eyes and a soft, shy laugh. In one movement t he plunged his finger deep as his fist clenched tighter around his cock. He arched his hips off the bed, seeking deeper contact, searching for the tiny nub buried inside him. His wrist strained at an unnatural angle, but he hardly noticed as he stroked harder and faster. When his finger found the sensitive spot he grunted and gasped as he pressed the nerves, stimulating them as rapidly as drops of cum splattered his fingers.
He thrust a second and then a third finger inside, feeling his body stretch and throb in response. He bounced his hips up and down, mimicking the same reaction from the previous night. Sweat beaded among the hairs on his chest. His cries grew louder and strained. He felt the building tension within him and stroked his cock harder in response. Once more he brushed his prostate and cum jetted from his cock, splattering his hands, belly, and chest. A low groan issued from his chest as he sank back onto the bed.
Sean lay quietly for a moment and stared at the ceiling. Before he knew it, he’d drifted off to sleep, sprawled atop the covers. When he awoke with a start, the shadows had lengthened and cum had dried on his skin. He glanced at the bedside clock and realized the hour. He leapt from the bed and dashed for the shower, hoping that he wouldn’t be caught in the embarrassing position of explaining that, yes, he was a randy teen-ager, after all. He lathered and rinsed as quickly as possible and went to the closet for fresh clothes. As he was digging around for a shirt, he ran across a shoebox that he didn’t at first recognize.
Lifting the lid, Sean discovered a forgotten gift from a former lover. He laughed out loud at the sight of the handcuffs and red silk scarf tucked lovingly inside the box. But his laughter turned into a speculative chuckle as he considered what his latest lover would think of if he came in and found Sean wearing nothing but handcuffs. Sean returned to the bedroom and checked the time. Then, just as he heard the key turn in the lock, he leapt on to the bed and quickly handcuffed both wrists to the headboard.
“Hello? Sean, are you here?”
“In here, lover,” Sean said as he relaxed against the headboard.
“Were you asleep? I hope I didn’t—“
Sean smiled broadly and lightly shook his bound hands. “What do you think? Do the handcuffs and smile go?”
“Oh, they…go, darling.”
Sean watched his lover tread closer, the light
in his blue eyes darkening with desire.
Go to the sequel: Handcuffs and a Smile: Scene Two, Take One.
If you liked the story, please let Hawk know: Hawk's email