The Art of Survival
Trevor Wilson seems to be struggling with everything in his life. He’s struggling with loneliness, with his family, with his business, and with his sexuality. He considers himself a “theoretical bisexual” because he never intends to act on his attraction to men. Then he meets Grantland DeLourde and he goes from making fire to playing with it.
He was right in the middle of a really good sex dream when a sudden noise woke him. He was trying to figure out what it was when his cell phone rang. He mumbled a sleepy answer, then shot up in bed at the voice he heard.
“Trevor? I knocked, but you didn’t answer. Did I get the time wrong?”
“No, sorry Grant—shit!” In attempting to get up, Trevor stepped on something in the dark bedroom. “Sorry, when I got back here I was so tired I forgot to set my alarm. I’ll be right there to let you in.”
He hung up as soon as Grantland replied and headed for the front door, hobbling slightly from the pain in his foot. He was not prepared for the interest his half-mast erection took in the sight of Grantland DeLourde standing in his doorway, looking pensive. Trevor hastily gestured him inside and abruptly did an about face out of the room.
“I’ll be right out!” he shouted over his shoulder as he ran into the other room.
He hoped it looked like he was in a hurry to get ready to go and not like he was running away.
“Dammit!” he swore softly to himself. Trevor had realized many years before that he was probably bisexual. Given that he had a preference for girls and a homophobic father, he had chosen not to pursue it. So to his mind, he had never really been anything but theoretically bisexual. Since his early days of adolescence, he had rarely come across men who caused him to do more than appreciate their beauty as objectively as he would a painting.
He had never, to the best of his recollection, come across any man who had caused him a physical reaction the way that his client just had. Then the dream he’d been having came back to him. A brown-eyed blonde with thick lips had been showcasing for him her talent for oral sex. Or so he had thought. Maybe it had been a blond, showing off his talents.
It didn’t bear thinking about, since Grantland was a client, but his dick, upon remembering the dream, said otherwise. It had throbbed fully back to life from where the fear had softened it. He decided that, if he was about to spend several days in the wilderness with the sex god from his dream and no privacy, he’d better take care of it now, instead of trying to suppress the urge.
He turned on the shower and let it heat up while he quickly stripped down. He didn’t want Grantland to get pissed that he was having to wait yet again, so he cracked open the door and yelled, “I’ve got everything ready to go, so just lemme clean up real quick and we’ll hit the road!”
“No problem, Trevor,” came the reply.
Trevor quickly headed to the shower and stepped under the spray. He considered and discarded a dozen fantasies before his worries over wasting time made him go with the simplest solution—the thing that had gotten him hard in the first place. He pictured Grantland, kneeling before him, groaning around Trevor’s cock with that warm, dry voice.
*Contest runs through July 29 and The Art of Survival releases on July 31.