| Excerpt from Brush with Desire copyright by Chrissy Munder |
Brush with Desire is now available as a Short Fiction Download from Dreamspinner Press!
This Excerpt Rated Adult - with lustful contemplation of spanking for those who care to
avoid such.
Disclaimer: This is a work of original fiction. All rights to the author.
Summary: A quick stop at the 24 super-store on his way home sends Brian home with a
few items that weren't on his list.
~*~*~*~*
Luckily the store was pretty deserted at this hour of the morning. Even so there was just
something weird about walking through the cosmetic aisles. Not quite as weird as having
to wander though the feminine hygiene row to get to the personal lubricant and such but
weird none the less.
There was some guy kneeling down at one end of the row looking at the assortment of
hairbrushes and combs but Brian was so tired he just wandered past without taking a
good look.
That wasn’t a good sign – if he was too tired to even take a look did that mean he was
getting old? Maybe he was giving up? Focus. Brian told himself sternly. Hair bands. Of
course, there had to be the selection from hell to wade through, hairbrushes, alligator
clips, barrettes. Rubber bands. There they were, all the way at the other end of row.
All-righty then. Time to search through all the madcap assortment of colors and sizes and
cartoon characters to find some nice plain, black, fabric color bands. Way too much
stimulation for his brain to cope with this morning.
Why did it have to be so hard? If he really thought about it he might say it reminded him
of searching through the condom display looking for one particular favorite brand.
Not that he’d done any of that lately either.
Maybe he should just give up and cut his hair. Brian set his basket on the floor and
reached behind to finger the long, dark braid that hung down to his waist. He had been
stuck in a bit of a rut lately. Both fashion and otherwise.
There was a nice aroma in the aisle, something kinda familiar, the scent teasing at his
nose and Brian looked around to see if there were any perfume displays. No. So where
was that intriguing scent coming from? There was nothing here but him and the guy at
the end of the row.
Oh.
Brian picked up a package of rubber bands and casually looked over at the man still
debating over the selection of hairbrushes. Now that was interesting. Not only the
pleasing cologne, but the guy was wearing a suit. A nice, expensive suit at that.
He’d been a waiter at an upscale restaurant a few years back, a way to pay for his IT
degree and even from this distance Brian could tell from the color and drape that the
light wool had cost a pretty penny. And the guy was just kneeling in the middle of the row
uncaring of the dust and wear. Some people’s kids.
Brian decided to take a look at some of the alligator clips in the middle of the long row.
He did use them to pull his hair up on top of his head sometimes when he needed a
quick shower and couldn’t be bothered with combing out his hair. The fact the little
action moved him closer to the man in the nice suit had nothing to do with his decision.
Nothing at all.
Oh my.
It wasn’t that having moved closer to the kneeling man Brian could smell the cologne
even better. It wasn’t even that from what he could see the man had a trim figure and
nice full head of blond hair. No, it was definitely his hands.
Large hands.
Well-groomed hands.
Hands that were calmly and sensuously stroking over the brush in his hand
like…like…like Brian wished those hands were touching him. Oh to have been those
bristles, the curved wood of the handle.
Brian forgot that his basket was still down by the hair bands; he forgot he was in the
middle of the twenty-four hour mega store. He stood there in a flushed daze and
watched as the stranger carefully and slowly felt up the hairbrushes in his search for the
perfect one.
And boy, judging by the tent in Brian’s thankfully baggy cargo pants, was it getting him
hot. Brian wiggled slightly, trying to adjust himself without being too obvious. Although
what he really wanted to do was push the heel of his hand down on his unruly dick and
tell it to behave.
It wasn’t so much that he was tired, even though he was that. It wasn’t even the
incongruity of the image before him. It was the care; the thorough and purposeful way
the man was running his long and elegant fingers over the brush in his hands.
Like it was the only thing in his world. The only thing that mattered.
Like Brian would love to have someone treat him.
When the man held the hairbrush in one hand and moved his wrist to feel the weight and
balance of the brush Brian’s brain was filled with all sorts of nasty, wishful images that
he just knew was going to feature prominently in his next jack-off session.
When the man grasped the handle firmly and let the back of brush hit his other palm with
a solid smack Brian bit his lip to keep from whimpering out loud as he imagined the
sound that would make on his own ass, the pink flush that would rise up on his bare skin
and the deepening mark it would leave behind.
Nasty, wishful images indeed.
This Excerpt Rated Adult - with lustful contemplation of spanking for those who care to
avoid such.
Disclaimer: This is a work of original fiction. All rights to the author.
Summary: A quick stop at the 24 super-store on his way home sends Brian home with a
few items that weren't on his list.
~*~*~*~*
Luckily the store was pretty deserted at this hour of the morning. Even so there was just
something weird about walking through the cosmetic aisles. Not quite as weird as having
to wander though the feminine hygiene row to get to the personal lubricant and such but
weird none the less.
There was some guy kneeling down at one end of the row looking at the assortment of
hairbrushes and combs but Brian was so tired he just wandered past without taking a
good look.
That wasn’t a good sign – if he was too tired to even take a look did that mean he was
getting old? Maybe he was giving up? Focus. Brian told himself sternly. Hair bands. Of
course, there had to be the selection from hell to wade through, hairbrushes, alligator
clips, barrettes. Rubber bands. There they were, all the way at the other end of row.
All-righty then. Time to search through all the madcap assortment of colors and sizes and
cartoon characters to find some nice plain, black, fabric color bands. Way too much
stimulation for his brain to cope with this morning.
Why did it have to be so hard? If he really thought about it he might say it reminded him
of searching through the condom display looking for one particular favorite brand.
Not that he’d done any of that lately either.
Maybe he should just give up and cut his hair. Brian set his basket on the floor and
reached behind to finger the long, dark braid that hung down to his waist. He had been
stuck in a bit of a rut lately. Both fashion and otherwise.
There was a nice aroma in the aisle, something kinda familiar, the scent teasing at his
nose and Brian looked around to see if there were any perfume displays. No. So where
was that intriguing scent coming from? There was nothing here but him and the guy at
the end of the row.
Oh.
Brian picked up a package of rubber bands and casually looked over at the man still
debating over the selection of hairbrushes. Now that was interesting. Not only the
pleasing cologne, but the guy was wearing a suit. A nice, expensive suit at that.
He’d been a waiter at an upscale restaurant a few years back, a way to pay for his IT
degree and even from this distance Brian could tell from the color and drape that the
light wool had cost a pretty penny. And the guy was just kneeling in the middle of the row
uncaring of the dust and wear. Some people’s kids.
Brian decided to take a look at some of the alligator clips in the middle of the long row.
He did use them to pull his hair up on top of his head sometimes when he needed a
quick shower and couldn’t be bothered with combing out his hair. The fact the little
action moved him closer to the man in the nice suit had nothing to do with his decision.
Nothing at all.
Oh my.
It wasn’t that having moved closer to the kneeling man Brian could smell the cologne
even better. It wasn’t even that from what he could see the man had a trim figure and
nice full head of blond hair. No, it was definitely his hands.
Large hands.
Well-groomed hands.
Hands that were calmly and sensuously stroking over the brush in his hand
like…like…like Brian wished those hands were touching him. Oh to have been those
bristles, the curved wood of the handle.
Brian forgot that his basket was still down by the hair bands; he forgot he was in the
middle of the twenty-four hour mega store. He stood there in a flushed daze and
watched as the stranger carefully and slowly felt up the hairbrushes in his search for the
perfect one.
And boy, judging by the tent in Brian’s thankfully baggy cargo pants, was it getting him
hot. Brian wiggled slightly, trying to adjust himself without being too obvious. Although
what he really wanted to do was push the heel of his hand down on his unruly dick and
tell it to behave.
It wasn’t so much that he was tired, even though he was that. It wasn’t even the
incongruity of the image before him. It was the care; the thorough and purposeful way
the man was running his long and elegant fingers over the brush in his hands.
Like it was the only thing in his world. The only thing that mattered.
Like Brian would love to have someone treat him.
When the man held the hairbrush in one hand and moved his wrist to feel the weight and
balance of the brush Brian’s brain was filled with all sorts of nasty, wishful images that
he just knew was going to feature prominently in his next jack-off session.
When the man grasped the handle firmly and let the back of brush hit his other palm with
a solid smack Brian bit his lip to keep from whimpering out loud as he imagined the
sound that would make on his own ass, the pink flush that would rise up on his bare skin
and the deepening mark it would leave behind.
Nasty, wishful images indeed.
