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  Velvet Staff

  Copyright © 2006/2015 by Sean Michael

  All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Sean Michael, 2515 Bank St., P.O. Box 40001, Ottawa, ON, K1V 0W8.

  Printed in Canada.

  ISBN: 978-1-988028-13-2

  Previously published by Torquere Press in Turn of the Screw

  2nd Edition / July 2015

  Velvet Staff

  By Sean Michael

  The Cook and The DJ

  Moffat paced from one end of the lift to the other. Fucking staff lift was getting slower every fucking day. He was going to have to have a word with Hercules.

  But not today. Not now. No, now he had a date with Piotr’s ass. Even if Pit didn’t know it yet.

  He snarled as the doors opened, and stalked down the hall to their rooms. Palming the door, he let himself in, rolling his eyes as he heard the music. Yeah, Pit was mixing music, laying down tracks for tomorrow. Well enough fucking music, Moffat needed something a little more physical than listening to the beat of a bunch of different drummers.

  He went to the music room and grabbed Pit’s hand, dragging his lover up out of his chair and off toward their bedroom.

  Pit stumbled behind him, gasping a little. “Hi, Moffat. Where are we going?”

  He chuckled wryly. Yeah. Enough fucking music. Time to remind Pit of the other important things in life. “Bed.”

  “Bed. I’m not tired and there’s a new set to...” They made the bedroom and Pit ran into his back as he stopped. “Mix. You smell good.”

  Grinning, Moffat turned around and started to strip Pit down, hands rough on the fine material of Pit’s clothing, not caring if he tore it. “I’m not tired either, Pit and if you get me naked you can smell just how good.”

  “Oh...” Pit’s eyes went wide and then those long, long fingers started finding skin, working on getting him naked.

  He growled softly, ripping Pit’s pants to get them off. “That’s more like it.”

  “I liked those pants. So did the lead singer for the Diamonds...” Pit was mumbling, stripping off Moffat’s shirt, nuzzling his skin.

  “Remind me to burn them after we’re done,” Moffat growled. Lead fucking singer for the goddammed Diamonds. Bully for fucking him.

  Moffat pushed Pit down onto the bed, undoing his belt and opening his leather pants, letting his cock spring free. Pit bounced, eyes sliding over Moffat’s body, lingering over his cock like a physical touch.

  He didn’t bother undressing further, just climbed onto the bed between Pit’s legs. “Suck me. Get me good and wet because that’s all the help there’s gonna be.”

  “Pushy bastard.” Pit shifted, moving until that hungry little mouth could work on him, get him off, get him good and wet.

  He didn’t have an answer for Pit’s accusation. For one thing, it was hard to think while Pit sucked him off. For another, the man had a point. Of course you had to be pushy around Pit if you wanted more than music out of him.

  Moffat pulled out before he went off and pushed Pit’s legs up and back and lined up with that sweet little hole.

  “Oh... Hard, love. Hard and deep.” Demanding sexy bastard.

  “Now who’s the pushy one, Pit?”

  He teased for only a moment, resting against the greedy hole and then he pushed in hard and deep, just like Pit wanted. Just like they both needed.

  Pit grunted as he sank deep, hands sliding up that long body to pinch and pull at hard little nipples while he watched. Groaning, Moffat started to thrust, moving hard and fast and stroking deep.

  “Oh! Love!” Those wide-open eyes fastened on him, focused and bright and wanton. “So good...”

  Yeah, that was it. Like this there was nothing for his Pit to focus on but him. Just the way he liked it.

  He pushed Pit’s legs back harder and humped as hard as he could. Pit’s body clung to his cock, reluctant to let him pull out, clenching around him.

  “You’re such a fucking sweet lay, Pit.” Moffat wrapped his hand around Pit’s cock, pulling in time with his thrusts.

  “Oh, Love...” Pit called out for him, hips bucking, the sound of his name ringing in the air.

  “That’s right, Pit. Love you.”

  Moffat shifting, looking to nail Pit’s gland, make his Pit scream. He thrust in and in again and then he found it, pegging Pit’s as desperate cries built into screams, Pit shuddering around his cock.

  “That’s it, Pit. Come on my cock.”

  It didn’t take much more than that and Pit was flying, seed spraying over that flat belly, ass milking his prick.

  Moffat jerked in a few more times before it was too much for him and he came hard, filling Pit with his heat. He collapsed down onto Pit, with a groan, their bodies slick and sliding from sweat.

  Pit wrapped around him, purring and moaning. “Mmm... that was... Mmmm...”

  “Yeah, Pit. My sweet, distracted man.” He nuzzled, feeling sleep heavy and good. It was time to sleep. In bed. With his lover.

  Pit nuzzled in, humming and holding him. “Night, love.”

  “Night, Pit. We’ll do it all again in the morning, yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah. Twice.”

  “Good.”

  Yeah, that was it. All that amazing focus. On him. Right where it belonged.

  The Cook and The DJ Return

  Moffat grabbed a tray of nibbles from one of the servers headed to the main floor and took off his chef’s hat, leaving it on the hook by the door. He wasn’t going to be back soon. Not until he’d made a meal of his man, at any rate.

  Piotr worked too fucking hard, liked his job too much. The fact that the same could be said of him meant that they often found themselves doing no more than sleeping in the same bed for days. Weeks even.

  And he was done. He needed. He didn’t care that Pit was working, the man could put on a long mix.

  He left the tray of munchies at the bar, taking only one small plate with him. Breaded calamari was Pit’s favorite. But Pit was only getting these if the man put out.

  The music booth was at the far end of the dance floor, glassed in and full of the latest and best equipment. Pit loved it. Drooled over it. Moffat sometimes wondered if Pit loved the mixing equipment more than him.

  It didn’t matter though, because he could wrestle Pit to the floor and the equipment was shit out of luck in that department unless it suddenly became animated. And grew opposable thumbs.

  He knocked on the door to the DJ booth.

  The door opened and Pit’s bright, maybe a little stoned, too fucking overworked eyes shone at him. “Hey, love.”

  Moffat’s heart melted, and his need hardened. “Hey, sexy -- gonna let me in? I brought a bribe.”

  That grin widened into a real, heart-stopping smile. “Yeah. Yeah, love. Come on in. How’d the fish come off tonight?”

  “Like a dream, of course.” He locked the door behind him and put the plate of calamari on the first flat surface he could find. “For you. After.”

  “After?” Pit’s nostril’s twitched, fingers pressing a couple of buttons, putting the machine on autopilot. “Ooo... calamari. You spoil me.”

  “Yeah, calamari. But I get a little something before you get to it.” He put his arms around Pit’s lean body, bringing their mouths together in a hard kiss. He didn’t care who might be looking, who could see.

  Pit blinked up at him, then sort of went melty, fingers pushing i
nto his hair, massaging his scalp. He groaned, harder than rocks, he needed so badly.

  “Moffat...” Pit pushed against him, little sounds tickling his lips. “Been so long. Been so fucking long, love.”

  “I know.” Moffat tugged on Pit, pulling his lover down onto the floor where they were afforded a modicum of privacy. The beat of the bass vibrated through his body.

  Pit’s fingers were smart, quick, tearing at his clothes. Fuck, it felt good, knowing that Pit needed him, wanted him, ached for him, too. Sometimes he was practically deep inside Pit before the man even realized what was going on, but today it was mutual and that made him so much harder, made him see stars.

  “Fuck. Moffat. Need you. Need it now.” Pit’s fingers found his cock, stroking hard, lips whispering pure perversities against his ear.

  He cried out, his own hands searching for Pit’s skin, pulling at his lover’s clothes. Pit’s skin was hot, soft, his lover trembling with need, pushing into his touches.

  He pushed Pit onto his back, following, pressing the lean body into the floor. “Need you, Pit. Need you hard.”

  Pit nodded, knees drawing up, cock slapping, dark and hard on that flat belly. “Now.”

  Moffat groaned. Fuck. He didn’t have anything with him -- it really had been too long if he’d come down here with exactly this in mind but forgot to bring the slick stuff. He pushed his fingers toward Pit’s mouth, cock rubbing against that sweet, tight hole.

  Pit sucked him in, head bobbing, tongue working his fingers like they were his cock.

  “Fuck, Pit -- you’re going to make me come.”

  “No. In me. In my ass, Moffat.” Pit tilted his hips, body begging.

  He pushed his wet fingers into Pit’s body, stretching his lover fast and hard.

  Pit cried out, hips working, head nodding. “Yes. Yes. Love. Hard. Fuck.”

  He didn’t have time to wait for hearts and roses, just pulled his fingers out and slammed his cock in, riding Pit as hard as the need rode him. Pit’s cry was audible over the pounding music, those eyes staring at him, wide and happy and blissful, like he was a god and Pit his worshipper. Moaning, growling, he thrust over and over into Pit, the beat driving his thrusts.

  “Love you. Moffat. Love. Oh, more. More. Don’t stop.” The soft babble was familiar and warm and welcome, this song of need his alone.

  “I won’t.” Moffat wouldn’t. Not now, not ever. He needed this, needed his Pit. He kept moving, kept filling Pit.

  Pit leaned up, brought their mouths together, tongue sliding into his lips. His tongue moved alongside Pit’s, and the angle of his thrusts changed. Pit jerked, eyes going wide.

  Oh, there. Right there. He gave Pit everything he was, body and spirit. Pit went wild, eyes rolling, hips slamming against his, the whole fucking room vibrating. Pleasure ran wild through his veins, Pit’s ass squeezing him tight, holding him hard. With a moan, Moffat managed to wrap his hand around Pit’s cock, tugging.

  “Love you!” Pit jerked, eyes rolling, spunk spraying as his hand met Pit’s flesh.

  His lover’s body pulled his pleasure from him and with a cry he filled Pit with his seed.

  Pit’s breath was soft, quiet on his cheek. “Hey.”

  Moffat took a soft kiss, settling on Pit, knowing his lover could take his weight for a bit. “Hey. Long time no fuck.”

  “Yeah. Too fucking busy for our own good.” Pit’s hands stroked his hair.

  He nodded, nuzzling Pit’s neck. He’d forgotten how good his lover smelled. How could he have forgotten that? “You need an assistant.”

  “Uh-huh. You, too.” Pit purred, cuddled.

  “I’ve got assistants. Three of them. And sous-chefs and servers. An apprentice.”

  “You’re still always busy.”

  Moffat nodded. “So what’re we going to do about it?”

  “Tell Kes we have to have two nights off together, in a row.”

  He nodded. “On a regular basis.”

  “Yeah.” Pit nodded, holding him tight. “Yeah.”

  Yeah. That just might do it. Or at least take the edge off enough they didn’t have to do it in the fucking music booth.

  And that way he wouldn’t have to bribe with the stupid squid. Still, there were worse things than having a snack right there when the fucking was done.

 

 

  Velvet Staff [Torquere MM] (epub), velvetstaff

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