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Dinner Time
by Lianne Burwell
February 1998
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Jim Ellison was glad to be home. It had been a long, hard day, spent 
mostly in a poorly ventilated courtroom, and he hadn't had his partner 
there to lighten it up. It was days like this that showed him just how 
much his partner made life bearable.

He stopped outside the loft door and let his senses reach out. Blair was 
cooking tonight. He could smell the spices and vegetables in the stir 
fry. He was humming a song that Jim didn't recognize. Then Blair's scent 
reached out to him from the background, musky and warm, only slightly 
filtered by his shampoo and soap. His heartbeat, for a moment, drowned 
out all other sounds.

Suddenly, Jim wasn't as tired as he had been.

He opened the door and tossed his keys in the basket. His jacket was 
carefully hung on its hook, next to Blair's. Blair smiled at him from the 
kitchen island.

"It's about time you got away. Dinner is almost ready."

The way that Blair was dressed was a sin. Baggy sweatpants and an over-
sized sweatshirt hid the beautifully made body. Jim drifted over to stand 
behind Blair, deeply inhaling the scent of his hair.

"That good a day, big guy?" Blair kept stirring the vegetables, letting 
his partner lean against him. He turned off the burner, and moved the 
food from the wok to the serving dish.

"Five minutes until the rice is ready. How 'bout you set the table." 

Jim didn't move away. Instead, he slipped his hands down the back of the 
sweatpants to cup the smaller man's ass.

"Oookay. I guess dinner is going to be a little late."

Jim just gave an affirmative grunt. The hands moved to start stroking the 
oh-so-tempting globes of flesh. He bent down a little to lick at Blair's 
neck, just below the ear. Blair reached out blindly to take the rice off 
the heat, then leaned back into the embrace. Jim moved one of his hands 
around to the front of the sweatpants to cup the rapidly hardening 
genitals, then the other hand joined it.

One hand cupped the balls that presented a perfect handful, the middle 
finger drifting back, occasionally to stroke the tender flesh that led to 
the young man's anus. The other hand gripped and stroked the cock that 
now reached out. Blair moaned and began to undulate, thrusting, first 
forward into the hands that caressed, then back into the solid bulk and 
the heated erection behind him.

Jim smiled at the cry of disappointment as he pulled his hands away to 
reach for the bottle of vegetable oil. He pulled the sweats down to get 
better access, and returned his now oiled hands to their task.

Blair wiggled his ass as a slick finger slipped back and forth across the 
sensitive skin around his anus. The other hand was gliding up and down 
his cock, the lightness of the touch and the slickness of the oil 
prevented the touch from providing the friction he craved.

"Oh, *man*! Jim, you're killing me. Do something. Please!"

Jim smiled. That was what he was waiting for. He dipped his forefinger 
into Blair's anus, slowly moving it in and out. Once Blair was moving 
with the same rhythm, he added a second finger. By the time he had added 
a third finger, Blair was thrashing in his arms.

The stove burners were still warm, so Jim shuffled them over to the side. 
Blair never even noticed. Keeping up the thrusting motion with the 
fingers of one hand, he used the other to coat his own cock with more of 
the cooking oil. He removed his fingers and quickly replaced them with 
his cock, before Blair could even protest the loss. 

They built up a rhythm, moving against each other. Jim dialed up his 
sense of touch, until the feel of the hair around Blair's anus dragging 
against his cock was about to drive him over the edge. He began pulling 
at Blair's cock at a pace that increased in speed.

Finally, feeling Blair start to tense up, Jim leaned forward and bit the 
side of the young man's neck, then started sucking at the spot. Blair's 
neck was very sensitive, and the move made him howl. His entire body 
froze, except for the anal muscles, and he spurted into Jim's hand. Jim 
thrust in as far as he could and let the spasming muscles milk his own 
orgasm out of him.

They collapsed against the counter, breathing deeply, until Jim's cock 
slipped out of its sheath on its own. They both sighed in disappointment 
at the loss.

"Hi, Chief. How was your day?"

Blair laughed. "Probably better than yours was. Ready for dinner, big 
guy?"

"Mmmm. I've already had dessert."

"Man. Court duty always does this to you. What did you do before you met 
me?"

Jim's only response was a laugh.

* * * * *

The rice was clumpy, and the stir fry was cold, but Jim didn't care. All 
was right with the world.

It was a great day.

THE END