commentfic for the kilt appreciation post (NSFW) at teamcockbert, haha.
"Oh, I could get used to this," Adam said, stretching against the wall. The back of the kilt was shoved up over his hips, wool just a little bit scratchy against his sides and cool air on his ass. The gorgeous thick cock was extra-hot by contrast, pushing into him, and the hand cupped around his balls. He rocked back against it. He was jetlagged to fuck and back, there were fifteen more radio interviews to go today, he had ten minutes in a hallway to spare, he didn't even know this amazingly hung Scottish guy's name, and he was still going to get fabulously laid. Kilts were the best thing ever.
He spread his legs and braced for it, breathing out deep as the cock slid into him, sweet hot burn of it stretching him open and slick fingers wrapping around his cock, jerking him fast and purposeful, closing around the head of his dick and then pushing back down. "Let's have you, then," lovely Scottish accent purring in his ear, hot bare thighs pressed up against his, and Adam laughed and rocked his hips back encouragingly.
"So come on," he said, and gasped as the first stroke fucked up into him. He rose up a little on his toes before he ran out of anywhere to go and sank back into it, just in time for the stroke back out and in again, harder, and then he was loosening up and taking it, so fucking good, kilt brushing against his legs and his dick bumping against it in front. He came in hot spurts, into the big warm hand around his dick, and sighed happy and so fucking relaxed against the wall, muscles unwinding while that fantastic cock kept pounding away at him.
He kissed the beautiful guy afterwards, so pretty, with a gorgeous mouth that Adam would have loved to fuck if he'd had just a little more time. "Next time I'm in town," he promised, rubbing his thumb over that full lip. Thirty seconds of cleanup with a handful of tissues and he was good to go, kilt flipped back down and smoothed. He grinned at himself in the mirror he passed: a little flushed, maybe, but the makeup took care of that, and if there were any stains underneath, they didn't show through. He petted the kilt approvingly.
He switched it out for one in leather with silk lining for dinner with the local Sony reps, which initially seemed to be a really bad idea, since every time he shifted on his seat even a little his dick was rubbing against silk, the weight of the leather holding it down on him. It turned out to be an amazingly wonderful idea when the really cute marketing director—spiky blond hair and such nice hazel eyes—started stammering after he happened to glance into Adam's lap during the appetizer course.
Adam oh-so-accidentally dropped his napkin and made a point of brushing his fingers against the guy's bare calf, above the combat boots, and was rewarded with a little twitch and then, after the plates were cleared, a hand tentatively on his thigh. Adam smiled very wide at him over the rim of his drink, and by the second course there was a hand slid in through the layers and wrapped around his dick, jerking him slowly under the table while Adam sipped his drink and made nice.
He excused himself to the bathroom while everyone was ordering dessert, and got his treat downstairs in the supply closet—the marketing director had an even cuter ass. "Ohh, can I spank you?" Adam said, because there was something about that bare ass with the kilt flipped up.
"Christ, I'm in so much fucking trouble," the marketing director said, in a resigned tone, and whimpered beautifully while Adam smacked him a few times. And afterwards Adam could just flip his kilt up and go for it, slicking himself up and pressing in slow and easy with both hands free to grip onto bare hips and his cock pushing into that beautiful ass, feeling the heated-up skin under his fingers.
"This is so fucking hot," Adam said, leaning forward to bite at that tempting bare neck. "Oh my god, I want pictures."
"You're out of your fucking mind," the director said, admiringly. "Fuck, yes, there, please," and Adam obliged, slamming in deep, rocking him forward into the wall and back, loving the feel of that tight ass giving it up for him and the kilt covering them—someone could walk in and Adam wouldn't even have to stop, he could just look over and smile and keep going.
"I want to take you out somewhere after this," Adam said, panting. "Is there—a club? Where I can just—oh my God, I want to make you sit on my cock in public somewhere—"
"Nghmm," the marketing director said, and came all over Adam's fingers, clenching down hard, and oh, that did it, oh.
Adam went down on him for a little bit of extra cleanup, because there was nothing bad about that, and another quick wipe and they were back upstairs before the coffee even came. Lane shot him a look as he slid back into his chair, but Adam just beamed at her. It was so not his fault, no one could blame him for not resisting temptation when it was this easy.
He thought he was going to have to make a regular thing of the whole kilt experience. Maybe with some rhinestones.
= End =
All feedback much appreciated!