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Lose Your Inhibitions

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Kris gets the gift card for his birthday. It's the band's idea of a joke, he thinks. Lose your inhibitions, the card boasts in swirly black script. Our intimate massage packages will stroke you inside-out. He's pretty sure the inside-out part isn't a joke and just looking at it makes his cheeks flush.

"Will you do it?" Adam asks, during one of their late night rambling conversations.

"I don't know," Kris says, cheeks heating up even though Adam is half a continent away.

"I think you should," Adam says. "It'll be good for you."

Kris snorts. Of course Adam thinks he should go for the inside-out erotic massage. He probably does that kind of thing all the time and he doesn't even have to pay for it.

"You have a show in Vegas next week, right?" Adam continues, as if Kris offered some actual input. "You could do it then."

Kris cheeks burn and he stares up at the ceiling, wondering what it'd be like to have a complete stranger touching him all over. He doesn't even do one-night stands.

"Isn't that kind of thing illegal anyway?" he asks.

Adam laughs. "It's Vegas baby, they're always toeing the line."

The conversation moves on to other topics after that and Adam doesn't bring it up again, but in Kris's mind a seed has been planted. It's been almost a year since the divorce, Katy’s already met someone new, and Kris still hasn't gotten to the rebound sex; maybe he does need to lose his inhibitions.

*

The massage parlor is fancy - all white marble, gold fixtures and thick red rugs. It's nothing like Kris expected it to be, and he spots no fewer than three celebrities as he makes his way through the lobby toward the front desk. He looked the place up before booking his appointment; it's really more of a spa and the intimate massages only get a side note on a side page on the website. If he hadn't been looking for it, he might never even have found it. Besides, the information seemed to be more geared toward couples looking to spice up their love life, and the only thing Kris took away from it was the promise about 100% secrecy.

The receptionist smiles when he gives his name and hands over the gift card, telling him to take elevator two to the top floor for his special treatment. She winks when she says special treatment and Kris flushes bright red, thinking that's terribly unprofessional of her. His shoes make no sound on the thick rug as he crosses the floor and the elevator is so golden it's almost blinding. He doesn't even have to press the button for himself, there's a solemn faced young man in a red suit doing the honors. Possibly-shady massage business aside, the Golden Age Spa Resort is insanely posh.

There's a woman in a silky black dress waiting for him on the top floor. She's got a clipboard balanced on her arm and a friendly smile on her pretty face.

"Welcome to the Top Floor, Mr. Allen," she says, and Kris can actually hear the capital letters fall into place. "My name is Lea."

"Good morning Lea," he mumbles, avoiding her calm gaze. "You can call me Kris."

She's an inch shorter than he is, with flowing black hair and big brown eyes. Kris looks at her long blood red nails and blushes hard enough to match them. Those are not the kind of nails that stroke people inside out.

"I will be your hostess today," she says, leading him down a long hallway. "It's my job to make sure your stay with us is both comfortable and pleasurable. If you at any time wish to stop the proceedings just utter your safe word."

"My safe word?" Kris asks weakly.

Lea consults her clipboard. "Cinnamon?"

Kris stumbles over his own feet. No one knows about that but Adam.

"Is that not correct?" Lea asks, sounding concerned all of a sudden.

"Uhm… No, I mean yes. Yes, that is correct," Kris says, mind reeling. It must have been Adam that set the band up to this then, but why? "How do you even know that?" he asks.

"Your boyfriend gave it to us when he made the reservation," Lea answers with a smile. "It's standard procedure."

"Of course," Kris mumbles, blushing to the very tips of his ears.

Lea leads Kris to a huge room with panoramic windows all along the wall, offering an amazing view of the Strip from above.

"This will be your recuperation room between sessions," Lea says. "The bathroom is through that door." She points to a door on the left. "And the session room is through that door." She points to the door on the right.

"If you shower and change into your robe, I will have breakfast sent up so that we can go through the rules in peace. Do you approve of this breakfast menu?"

Kris scans through the menu she shows him. It includes all of his favorite foods.

"I… uhm… yeah?" he says.

She smiles prettily. "You'd be surprised at how often significant others get it wrong."

It's clearly a dismissal and he retreats to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. There are candles lit everywhere, sending their flickering light over the white tiles of the floor and walls, enough of them that he doesn't even have to turn on the light. A white robe is hanging above a shelf loaded with towels and other supplies and there's an empty second shelf beneath it that he supposes is meant for his clothes. Huge mirrors cover most of the opposite wall and he flushes at his own reflection, wondering what he's even doing here.

The shower stall is huge and right next to it there's a bathtub on lion's feet. The toilet is set against the far wall, shielded from the mirrors with a low wall and he's extremely grateful for that little mercy as he relieves himself, nerves making his bladder heavy. Music's pouring out of hidden speakers along the ceiling and Kris doesn't even have to pay attention to know it could have been snatched from one of his iPod playlists. This whole thing has Adam written all over it.

Since his divorce Kris has seen Adam a handful of times, but he's talked to him on the phone for at least an hour every day, usually more. Whenever something happens in his life, Adam is the first person he calls, and more often than not Adam is the first person he talks to in the morning and the last person he talks to at night. They are closer now than when they shared a room every night and if Kris had actually seen Adam in person during the last few months he's pretty sure he would have thrown himself into Adam's arms and clung without any intention of ever letting go.

The whole thing is like a never-ending courtship; there's a current of more to their every conversation, but so far it's never been articulated. Kris thinks about it while he removes his clothes, trying not to look at himself in the mirrors. Maybe this is Adam's way of asking if Kris is ready for more, but then why did he hide behind the band without telling Kris about his own involvement? Kris told Adam about booking the appointment about five seconds after he'd gotten off the phone and while Adam sounded immensely pleased, there was nothing in the conversation that let on Adam was involved in some way.

The shower is amazing and has so many settings that Kris thinks he could shower here every day for a year without having tried them all. There's an arrangement of different soaps on a shelf and Kris carefully cleans himself everywhere, biting back a slight groan when his fingers slide inside. Ever since his mind connected Adam with sex there have been some extracurriculars involved with his masturbation, and if the thought didn't make him blush crimson he would have bought a dildo a long time ago, because damn.

He doesn't let it go anywhere now though and the thought of breakfast with Lea and intimate massage from an unknown makes his erection wilt while he towels himself off and puts the robe on. He's curious, excited and terrified at the same time, nausea warring with butterflies at the pit of his stomach.

Lea is seated at the table when he walks out of the bathroom. She slides to her feet easily when she spots him though and doesn't sit down again until Kris takes his own chair. She pours champagne into the flute beside his juice glass without asking and Kris sips it gratefully. He's not a big drinker, so maybe a small glass of champagne will be enough to mellow his frazzled nerves.

Lea talks while he eats, occasionally plucking pieces of fruit from her own plate, more to make him feel good, he thinks, than of any real desire to eat. She throws around a lot of big words and he hums in agreement whenever he thinks the situation calls for it. The food is delicious but he can't get much of it down and eventually he just pushes his plate away, focusing fully on Lea. She fills up his flute again and he sips it while she outlines the day.

Apparently there will be a number of sessions with recuperation time in between. Lea will not be present, but there's a call button if he needs her. According to the instructions made with the reservation he will be blindfolded throughout the session, only being allowed to remove it while resting. Lunch and dinner will be served by Lea in this room and there's a reservation made for him to stay the night in the hotel part of the Spa.

Kris takes all of this in without comment, wondering whether the blindfold will make things easier or not. It's just like Adam to think of something like that, hoping that being blinded will help Kris focus on feeling instead of thinking too much. She repeats that his safe word will immediately end the proceedings but she doesn't mention if this means they'll be watched. He thinks of asking, but then he realizes he really doesn't want to know.

"Have a good day, Kris," Lea says eventually, getting up to leave. "The first session will start when you put your blindfold on."

Kris nods and empties the last of his champagne, watching the sway of her hips as she leaves the room without particular interest. He realizes he never asked if his masseur would be male or female, but he doesn't really think he has to. He's willing to bet his career on it being a guy.

Kris drinks one more flute of champagne, contemplating the blindfold glaring at him from the table. It looks like one of those sleep masks Katy used to wear when flying and he's willing to bet it's snug enough to not let him get the slightest peek of his masseur. It's probably better that way, he decides, and empties the last of the champagne, grabbing the mask with a certain sense of dread.

*
Kris only has to wait a moment in darkness before he hears a door opening and the sound of someone approaching across the floor. He almost yells out his safe word at the top of his lungs, but manages to temper his nerves at the very last instant. A gentle hand guides him up from the chair and carefully leads him across the floor. The plush rug gives way to tempered tiles as they cross the threshold to the session room, and he sucks in a breath. He's really doing this.

The masseur leads him further into the room that is pleasantly temperate and makes him stop with a hand to his shoulder. Kris stands absolutely still while the robe is slid from his shoulders, a blush climbing up his cheeks. Then he's being guided forward to a table and with some undignified fumbling that probably looks hilarious he manages to climb onto it, lying down on his stomach with his face fitted to the customary hole. His skin brushes against soft terrycloth from mid-chest to his knees and the implications of that make him blush again.

He hears the masseur moving around the room, clinking with a bottle, and then something warm is drizzled over his back, making goose bumps rise all over his skin. The fluid is joined by warm strong hands and Kris no longer doubts that his masseur is male. He's tense at first, muscles knotting under the gentle hands massaging his skin, but then he starts to relax. The touch is strangely familiar, yet brand new, and it feels so good to have all the knots and kinks worked out of his shoulders, back, arms and legs that he almost forgets what the massage is really about.

He makes a pleased little sound when those magic hands move to massage his ass cheeks and the very tops of the back of his thighs, not even embarrassed about the way he's getting hard. That is until the silent masseur guides him to lie on his back and Kris's erection becomes blatantly obvious. He flushes bright red, but his erection doesn't wilt in the slightest when warm oil is poured over his chest and those magic hands come back.

He has no idea how long he's been lying on the table, sure strong hands working him over from neck to feet over and over again, carefully skirting the erection that rests heavy against his stomach. Then he's guided onto his stomach again and he can't help the groan that escapes when his cock brushes against the softness of the terrycloth. The masseur doesn't falter, he just adds more oil and goes back to rubbing pleasure into Kris's skin.

Kris bites down on his lower lip and grabs the edges of the table, hips rocking against the terrycloth of their own volition. The masseur slides his hands down low, rubbing slick and firm over Kris's ass cheeks, aiding his slow rocking with gentle pushes against his hips. Kris groans, his breath picking up speed while his hands curl hard around the table. The masseur makes him spread his legs wider, thumbs dipping in between his thighs with hypnotic circular motions that make Kris drag his hips harder against the table.

He moans trying to find leverage to thrust harder, but his skin is slick with the oil, sliding useless against the surface of the table. Getting on his knees only takes the pressure off his cock, happily snuggled between his slick stomach and the thick warmth of the terrycloth, and now leaking precome to add to the mess.

The masseur slides his hands up to Kris's ass again, dipping his thumbs in between Kris's cheeks, spreading him wide.

"Yes," Kris gasps, shameless in the darkness. "Yes… Please."

The masseur doesn't respond, but he uses his firm grip on Kris's ass to rock him against the table, the very tops of his thumbs circling over Kris's opening in a maddening way.

Kris's moans build in crescendo and he starts to feel hot all over, hips twitching and jerking underneath the masseur’s guiding hands. Then his hips drag hard against the table one last time and he's coming with a shout that's too loud in the silent room, his cock pumping slickness into the cloth and onto his stomach.

Kris gasps for breath, already turning beet red. He can't believe he just came from rubbing against a towel. He hasn't done that sort of thing since he was fifteen. The masseur doesn't give him time to feel bad though, he just starts over with the gentle massage of Kris's back, working him over until he's relaxed into the table, heartbeat slowing down.

Once Kris is so relaxed he's boneless with it, the masseur guides him up to sit on his knees and slides onto the table behind him. Kris lets his head loll against the masseur's shoulder, cock slowly swelling when he recognizes the scent of Adam's cologne. The masseur slowly runs a damp cloth over Kris's chest and down between his legs, cleaning up the mess he made earlier.

Kris gasps when the plush cloth wraps around his cock, gently teasing him to full hardness with slow leisurely strokes. Then the cloth is pulled away and the masseur shifts him so that he's straddling the table, with his back against the masseur's clothed chest. Those clever hands wrap around him from behind, working more oil into the still slick skin of his chest. He moans when the masseur starts paying attention to his nipples, rubbing and pulling at them until they’re hard little peaks under his fingers.

Kris reaches back to hold onto the masseur's thighs, the soft cotton of his pants bunching under Kris's fingers and he wants to push back, feel if the masseur is as hard as he is. The masseur slides his hands down over Kris's stomach to rub oil into the silky skin on the inside of his thighs, making Kris's cock throb with need.

"Feels so good," Kris slurs, rubbing his head against the masseur's shoulder. "Don’t stop."

One hand slides between Kris's legs to cup his balls, gently pulling on them until Kris arches his back, cock dribbling precome onto his stomach.

"Oh," he gasps. "Oh fuck."

The masseur moves his other hand to press against Kris's stomach, rubbing circles into his skin just above the base of his cock while the other keeps up its gentle squeeze and release on Kris's balls. The back of the masseur's hand brushes against Kris's cock with the slow massage of his stomach and he shudders, breath coming out harsh and keening.

He moves one of his hands from the masseur's thigh to slide it on top of the hand on his stomach, making it press harder, his happy trail crinkling under the masseur's warm palm. He doesn't know if it's allowed and he doesn't care if it isn't, his entire world is focused on the hands on his skin and his cock throbbing between them.

"God," he groans. "You have to… I'm… Fuck."

The masseur guides Kris's hand up his chest to his nipples and Kris doesn't need more encouragement than that, pinching one of the tight nubs between his fingers with a shaky moan, while the masseur slides his hand back down Kris's stomach. Kris's blood is on fire; nothing exists beyond the thundering beat of his heart and the harsh pants of his breath. It feels as if he's been hanging on the edge forever, cock aching with its need for release.

Then the masseur lifts his hand to rub his fingertips over the underside of Kris's cock and that's all it takes for him to come, digging his fingers into the masseur's thigh while his mouth opens on a soundless scream. The masseur slides his fingertips over Kris's cockhead smearing his come around before sliding down again to tease at the nerves just below it.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh," Kris moans, completely senseless. "Oh God… Don't… Ooooh."

His entire body quakes with the aftershocks, heart bouncing against his ribcage, and when it's finally over he collapses against the masseur's chest, trying to catch his breath. The masseur gently wraps his arms around Kris's waist, just holding him close for a while but Kris can hear the way his heart trips and feels his too-fast breath against his cheek.

"If you need to you can…" Kris trails off, not sure how to phrase it.

The masseur stiffens, his breath catching, and Kris almost apologizes, but then one of the masseur's hands scrambles in between them, knuckles hitting against Kris's back as he pulls at his pants. If Kris wasn't so blissed out he would offer to help but the masseur doesn't seem to need his input, knuckles brushing him with every frantic stroke. His breath grows louder and heavier, catching on breathy little moans and it's the sexiest thing Kris has ever heard.

It doesn't take many minutes, maybe not even one, for the masseur to come, body shuddering against Kris's back while his come splatters hot over Kris's skin. Kris shivers with him, cock twitching limply and he turns his head to nuzzle against the masseur's neck, letting Adam's cologne fill his senses. If only.

*
After the masseur's quick jerk-off Kris is led back to the recuperation room, and his head spins when he removes the blindfold, blinking against the sudden light. The table has been cleared and there's no sign of Lea so he stumbles into the bathroom for a much needed shower. This time he meets his own eyes in the foggy mirrors, image softened and distorted. He feels different, lighter somehow, despite the lethargic heaviness of his body. A new robe has been hung up on the wall and he shrugs it on, discarding the old one, made sticky by the mess on his skin, in what he supposes is the clothes hamper.

Lea is waiting for him when he comes back into the recuperation room and he promptly blushes crimson. She just smiles at the sight of him though, gesturing toward a tray set on the table.

"I brought you a snack," she says. "Massage session can be tiring."

"Thank you," Kris mumbles, still blushing.

"Are you finding the arrangement to your satisfaction so far?"

Kris nods, avoiding her gaze. She seems like a cool woman, but he really doesn't want to discuss having orgasms - not with her, not with anyone.

"Good," she says, smiling. "I'll leave you to rest then. If you need anything don't be afraid to call. The second session will begin when you put your blindfold on again."

Kris notices that there's a new blindfold on the table, which is a good thing because he must have accidentally thrown the other one in the laundry with his robe. He takes a seat at the table and eats way more of the snack than he thought he'd be capable of, turning the details of the first session over and over in his mind. A glance at the clock tells him it's close to noon and that the first session lasted much longer than he thought it had, almost three hours.

Out here, in the real world, it's hard to imagine all of that just happened and if it wasn't for the sated lethargy in his bones, he would have thought it was all a dream. Before this Kris only ever slept with one person, Katy, and their sex life was not exactly what he'd call adventurous. Kris always suspected Katy considered sex more of a chore than a pleasure and while he tried his best to be a good lover, he's pretty sure he failed. Looking back it was probably the first sign they weren't meant to be, they had the love, but they never really managed the attraction.

After the snack, he lies down on the Asian-style bed set against the far wall for a much needed nap. If he's going to survive a whole day of this he needs to preserve his strength. He wakes up maybe half an hour later, feeling rejuvenated and happy, and this time he doesn't hesitate before sliding the blindfold over his eyes, cock already pleasantly heavy between his legs.

*
The second session begins like the first, with the masseur sliding the robe off his shoulders and guiding him to the table. They way he hugs Kris tight for a moment before letting him slide onto it is new though, but at the same time it's so familiar and safe that Kris decides to let go of the last vestiges of his modesty. He doesn't need it here.

It's with a newfound peace that he stretches out on the table, letting the masseur's magic hands push the last lingering tension out of his muscles. The table is wider and longer than a normal massage table and Kris appreciates the extra space, spreading his arms out wide. He feels more secure this time, he trusts the masseur to not let him fall.

He doesn't know how much time has passed when the masseur guides him onto his back, exposing his swollen cock to the masseur's eyes. He doesn't blush this time though, he just hums with pleasure when the masseur starts working on his chest again. By the time the masseur is moving up his legs, Kris is slowly writhing against the table, hips twitching against nothing.

This time the masseur doesn't avoid Kris's cock. Instead he wraps his oil-slick hands around the head, knotting them together. Kris groans, hips arching up off the table and when the masseur doesn't stop him, he keeps thrusting up, slick heels trying to find purchase against the table.

"Oh God," he moans, struggling to thrust harder, faster. "Oh fuck."

The masseur tightens his hands and finally starts helping Kris out, moving his joined hands up and down in with long sure strokes. Kris’s hands flail across the table, trying to find something, anything to hold onto until he finally grabs the edges of the towel, balling it up in his fists. He can feel his orgasm building at the base of his spine, arms and legs already tingling with it and he scrambles to thrust up, almost mindless with pleasure.

Then the masseur slides his joined hands to rest against Kris's stomach, still gripping the base of his cock with his elbows pressed against Kris's thighs, and touches his tongue to Kris's cockhead. Kris shudders all over, the raspy slickness of the masseur's tongue completely unexpected.

"Oh God," he almost shouts, hips jerking, when the masseur starts licking it at him, tongue swiping over the head over and over. "Please, please, please, please."

The masseur slides his mouth over the head of Kris's dick, rubbing his tongue against the underside while he starts working the shaft with his hands again. It takes about five seconds for Kris to come, spilling into the hot wetness of the masseur's mouth over and over again, until he's writhing with it, making tiny pained little noises.

The masseur lets him go then, bending forward to press kisses into Kris's stomach, licking at his skin. He makes breathy little noises and Kris shifts one of his legs to feel the masseur's hand working between his own legs.

"Come on me," Kris demands hoarsely and the masseur is up and moving before Kris is even finished speaking.

He straddles Kris, one hand brushing against Kris's shoulder and his knees pressed against Kris's thighs. Kris slides his hands up to cup the masseur's slim hips, spreading his fingers over the swell of his ass. The masseur jerks under Kris's fingers and then his come is splattering over Kris's chest in searing lines, a choked-back moan escaping his lips. Kris reaches down to smear the come over his chest, rubbing it into his skin as if he's been branded.

"Fuck," the masseur whispers, and something stirs at the back of Kris's mind.

Then he's bending down licking over Kris's chest and fingers, swiping the come from his skin. Kris feels glorious, dirty and carefree and when the masseur nudges on his hips, he happily rolls over on his stomach, pushing himself up on his hands and knees so that the masseur ends up straddling him.

The masseur chuckles, pressing a kiss against the nape of Kris's neck, before moving downwards, kissing a line down Kris's spine. He pulls back when he reaches the top of Kris's ass, pressing one last kiss against one of his cheeks, and moments later Kris hears bottles clinking together. He tenses when something is poured into the exposed crack of his ass, but then he relaxes, shivering when it slowly runs down to drip from his balls.

The masseur presses a hand between Kris's shoulder blades until he gets the hint, sliding down to rest on his elbows, leaving his ass even more exposed. The masseur slowly caresses the back of Kris's thighs, sliding his hands up to spread Kris's cheeks even wider. It feels strangely liberating to be this exposed and he doesn't feel awkward, he just feels wanted.

He stiffens for a second at the first brush of slick fingers over his hole, but then he relaxes, humming encouragement when the masseur starts massaging his opening in slow maddening circles. The masseur is keeping his cheeks spread while he rubs his thumbs slowly around the rim of Kris's opening gently pressing against it now and again but not enough for his fingers to actually slip inside.

Kris hides his flushed face in the crook of his arms, breath already quickening. He's only ever touched himself there and this feels entirely different, hips jerking helplessly whenever the masseur presses his thumb against the opening, almost but not quite slipping inside.

He starts talking without even meaning to, an endless stream of filthy nonsense, as he rocks into the maddening touch. The masseur bends closer, blowing air over Kris's hole and he jerks, keening low in his throat. Then the fingers are joined by the masseur's tongue, swiping wet and raspy across Kris's skin and he moans loud enough for the sound to reverberate off the walls.

He loses all sense of time after that, tongue and fingers rubbing over him and into him until he's a sobbing mess, cock arching hard and throbbing toward his stomach. He babbles, begs and pleads, reaching out to grab the edges of the table, pushing his ass into the masseur's face, completely shameless.

Soon the masseur is working him open with three fingers, rubbing him inside out while his tongue worms around the rim, occasionally slipping in with his fingers. Kris can't stop shivering, rubbing his sweaty face against the table, his breath coming out in hitched sobs. He's never felt anything like it, every nerve ending is aflame with pleasure, and he feels too exposed and not exposed enough at the same time.

His sweaty knees slip against the table as he tries to push back harder, wordlessly begging for more. Suddenly he's pulled up to rest on his knees, the masseur's fingers still buried inside him while his other hand slides across Kris's slick chest to hug him close.

"Ooooh…. Oh God," Kris moans, hands flailing around until he reaches behind him to grab the masseur's t-shirt, fisting it between his fingers.

The new position gives him more leverage and he shamelessly fucks himself on the masseur's fingers, lifting up fast and sinking down hard. His thighs quiver with the strain, and his entire body is arched into a tight bow, but he just can't stop moving, breath so rapid and harsh by now his head is spinning from a lack of oxygen.

Then the masseur curls his fingers inside Kris, rubbing hard against that magic spot inside him, and Kris comes so hard he literally sees stars bursting before his eyes. He's never come untouched before and it's different. It starts deeper and goes on longer, cock jerking hard against his stomach, while the masseur keeps fucking his fingers into him, lips pressed against Kris's shoulder.

He feels empty when the masseur pulls his fingers out and he sags against the arm across his chest, completely boneless. He falls forward, dragging the masseur with him, until he ends up stomach first on the table with the masseur's sizeable erection fitted to the cleft of his ass. The masseur moves to shift off him, his hand moving between them to pull at his pants.

"No, like this," Kris murmurs, pushing his ass up to fit against the masseur's cock again.

The masseur moans against his ear, pulling his pants down just enough to be able to slide his cock in between Kris's cheeks, rocking against him.

"Yeah," Kris sighs, spreading his legs wider, lifting his ass up. "Mmm… just like that."

It feels wonderfully dirty to have the masseur's big slick cock rubbing against his skin and he wants to feel it inside him so much he can almost taste it. He never understood people wanting to be fucked before, but now he does. It's like there's this hollow longing ache inside him, begging to be filled.

The masseur gasps against Kris's ear, his hips stuttering, and Kris pushes up harder, helping him along.

"Feels so good," he murmurs.

The masseur reaches down to grasp Kris's hips, pulling him into his short jerky thrusts. It feels amazing, the slick head of the masseur's cock rubbing over Kris's opening with every shift of his hips.

"I want you inside me," Kris groans.

The masseur comes, adding to the slickness running down Kris's cleft and Kris moans with him, cock jerking feebly between his legs. The masseur collapses beside Kris, trying to catch his breath and Kris snuggles up to him, burying his face against the masseur's shoulder. The blindfold is sweaty and gross over his eyes and he wants to rip it off to see if the skin under his lips is as freckled as he thinks it is.

He doesn't though and when the masseur leads him back to the recuperation room he doesn't even try to sneak a peek. Maybe not knowing for sure is better.

*
Lea is waiting for him after his shower with lunch set up on the table. Kris shuffles over to the chair and sinks into it, almost too drained to eat. She laughs, soft and sweet and reaches over to pet his shoulder.

"I'm not even going to ask this time," she says.

Kris flushes slightly and reaches for the fork. He's going to need food if he's to survive the third session. Lea looks at him for a moment longer and then she slides up from her chair.

"Call me if you need me," she says and then she's gone.

Kris eats, chewing and swallowing mechanically without even tasting the food. He's sure it's delicious, but he's so tired he can hardly even think. He keeps going back to his certainty that the masseur is Adam. On some level he's suspected it since the very beginning; the way Lea casually referred to his boyfriend fits with what Kris read on the home page. The Lose Your Inhibitions package is geared toward couples, more like a really expensive role play than the shady massage business Kris thought it was.

He didn't think too much of it at the time, figuring the information on the homepage wasn't telling the whole story, but in his mind it's starting to make sense now. If Kris had gotten the gift card from Adam he would have probably been too wary and embarrassed to use it, but with the band as a middleman Adam managed to make it a lot less shady.

There's really only one way to be sure without actually ripping his blindfold off. He goes into the bathroom and gets his phone, sending a quick text off to Brad.

Does Adam know how to give massages? Like professionally?

The answer comes within seconds; Brad is very attached to his phone.

Oh yes, boy's got Magic Hands.

Kris laughs and pushes his phone across the table, mind spinning with possibilities. He doesn't really understand why Adam would go to such lengths to get Kris at his mercy when he would only have needed to ask. Kris turns that over in his head while he sinks down onto the bed for a much needed nap. He wonders if Adam will reveal himself at some point, or if he means to keep Kris guessing. Things just got a whole lot more complicated.

*
Kris dreams that he's back in the Idol Mansion with Adam, lying together on Adam's bed as they so often did, but in his dream he's snuggled up to Adam's side, rubbing off against Adam's hip while Adam talks. Adam doesn't even seem to notice, hands waving in the air while Kris gasps and moans against his shoulder, thrusting against him with short jerky motions.

He wakes up with his orgasm, not entirely surprised to find his blindfold back on and a mouth wrapped around his dick. Apparently the masseur got impatient and decided to come to him. He sinks back into the pillows with a groan, reaching down to sink his fingers into Adam's hair, needing to make sure it's still Adam.

He almost freaks out, because the hair underneath his fingers is shorter than he expected, but then he remembers Adam telling him about getting a haircut.

"I had such an odd dream," Kris murmurs, running his fingers through Adam's hair.

Adam makes a pleased little sound, settling down with his head against Kris's hip, apparently waiting for the story. Kris lets his hand slip down for a moment, the back of his knuckles brushing against Adam's ear, and he smiles to himself when Adam's earrings slide against his skin. He was right.

"I was with a friend of mine," Kris says, pretending he doesn't know who Adam is. He wants this to play out the way Adam intended. "We were lying together on his bed and I was rubbing off against his hip, but he didn't even seem to notice, talking about some song he wanted to cover. So weird…"

Adam presses a kiss against Kris's hip and Kris wonders how much it's killing him not to talk. Adam's one of the chattiest people Kris has ever met and now he's been forced to be silent for most of the day. Kris winds Adam's hair around his fingers, it's just long enough at the top of his head, and tugs lightly.

Adam comes easily, crawling up Kris's body to collapse beside him and Kris snuggles into him, the position oddly similar to his dream. He slowly trails a hand down over Adam's chest, hiding his smile against Adam's shoulder when Adam sucks his stomach in. The cotton of his t-shirt is ridiculously soft and underneath it Adam's skin burns like a furnace, heating up Kris's palm. In Kris's mind the t-shirt is white. He wonders if that's true.

He hesitates for a second when his fingers reach the waistband of Adam's pants, idly scratching at the slip of skin he finds there, but then he moves his hand lower to cup Adam's bulge. Adam sucks in a breath, hips twitching, and Kris grins, rubbing his palm against the length of Adam's dick. It's arched up against Adam's stomach, tenting his loose pants considerably and Kris doesn't ever want to stop touching it. The fabric is damp around the head, slicked with precome, and Kris rubs his fingers over it, drawing a shaky moan from Adam's lips.

Kris has never touched someone else's cock before and he takes his time, exploring it through the sinfully thin cotton of Adam's pants. It's bigger than his, thick and long and it curves harder, but that might just be the pants. Adam also seems to have considerably more precome action, the wet spot growing larger with every curious swipe of Kris's hand.

Adam's breath is shaky and stuttering, as if he's trying but failing to not make noise. His hips keep twitching up against Kris's hand, even though Kris can tell he's holding himself tight as a bowstring, trying to control himself.

Kris slides his hand in under the waistband, finally touching Adam's silky skin for real. He's so hard it ought to be painful, his cock like steel against Kris's fingers. The urge to taste is sudden and unexpected, but Kris is not going to hold back now. He impatiently pushes the pants down to bunch underneath Adam's heavy balls and crawls down Adam's body.

Adam's breath hitches and ends on a moan when Kris reaches his destination eagerly licking across the head. It tastes weird, salty and kind of bitter, but it's not enough to put Kris off, tongue dipping out again and again. Adam's really losing his composure now, hips pushing up while choked off moans spill from his lips, and Kris wants to feel him come apart. He shifts around so that he's kneeling between Adam's legs, one hand wrapped around the base while he carefully covers his teeth with his lips and slides his mouth over the head.

Adam comes before Kris has even gotten a chance to try sucking, the first jet of come taking him completely by surprise. He pulls off and the next burst of come smears across his face while he swallows. Adam's writhing under his hands making an unholy lot of noise and there's no way Kris would ever mistake that voice. He gathers his wits enough to jerk Adam through the aftershocks while he licks the come from around his mouth. The taste isn't entirely unpleasant.

Then he's being manhandled up the bed and Adam rolls on top of him, stealing the air from Kris's lungs with a demanding kiss. He kisses back, giving as good as he gets, and soon they're writhing against each other, nipping and sucking at each other's mouths. It's everything Kris thought kissing Adam would be and then some, every swipe of Adam's tongue setting his blood on fire.

He sinks his fingers into Adam's hair, keeping him close, while Adam gentles the kiss, taking his time to fully explore Kris's mouth. Adam rolls them over on their sides, pulling one of Kris's legs over his hips without breaking the kiss. Kris fits himself closer and groans when Adam slides a hand down to cup his ass. Adam pulls his hand away, fumbling across the bed and Kris moans when he hears the snick of a cap being popped open.

Adam's fingers are slick when they return sliding in between Kris's ass cheeks and Kris does his best to spread his legs wider. Adam doesn't tease this time, sliding one long finger into Kris without preamble.

"Fuck," Kris curses against Adam's mouth. "Mmmm."

One finger becomes two, then three, Adam pulling back for more lube in between, until Kris is so slick he's almost squelching with it, hips rocking into Adam's hands. Then Kris finds himself on his back again, legs spread wide open, while Adam fits a pillow under his hips. He hears the crinkle of a condom wrapper and Adam's choked back groan that probably means he's putting it on, then Adam's back on top of him, fingers sliding back into Kris's body.

"Oh," Kris groans, hips lifting. "Oh yes… there."

Adam chuckles, mouthing kisses all over Kris's face, while he keeps rubbing his fingers in deep, hitting that spot every now and then, almost like an afterthought.

"Please," Kris begs. "Please, please, please, Adam, pleeeeease."

Adam stiffens with his fingers still buried deep inside Kris's body and Kris hardly dares to breathe. Then Adam's reaching up, pulling the blindfold away and Kris squints against the sudden light. Adam slowly swims into focus, blue eyes wide open and vulnerable waiting for Kris to speak. He's so gorgeous he takes Kris's breath away, eyeliner smudged around his eyes and cheeks flushed. His hair is a complete mess from where Kris's fingers have been pulling on it and his lips are swollen and red.

Kris doesn't think he's ever seen Adam look so naked, face stripped bare before Kris's eyes, and he tries to find enough breath to speak.

"If you don't fuck me. Right now. I will kill you," he manages, squirming on Adam's fingers.

Adam's eyes grow wider for a moment and then he bursts out laughing, bending forward to press his mouth against Kris's skin.

"In a minute, baby," he promises, voice rough. "I kinda lost my erection for a moment there."

Kris's startled laugh turns into a moan when Adam shifts his fingers, sliding them out only to push back in, hitting Kris just right.

"God, baby," Adam murmurs, pressing kisses all over Kris's face. "I've been so fucking scared today. It was just supposed to be a bit of fun but then I couldn't… and you were so fucking gorgeous and I thought for sure I fucked everything up."

If he wants Kris to have some input in this conversation that isn't just random encouraging noise, he’d better stop doing that thing with his fingers. He turns his head into Adam's kisses, pressing their mouths together, hoping to say it with a kiss instead.

"Okay… yeah," Adam says when they break apart. "No need for Viagra just yet."

Kris bites down on his lower lip, spreading his legs wider. Later, he's going to need a moment to align everything right in his head, but right now he really, really just wants Adam to fuck him. Adam finally seems to be getting with the program, grabbing a condom and tearing it open with his teeth. Kris is pretty sure he's already wearing one, but he's not going to protest if that means any more delay. He's already shaking apart and if Adam doesn't hurry, Kris will miss the main act.

Adam pulls one condom off and slides the other on with a one handed move that is really quite impressive. Then he slicks himself up with a ridiculous amount of lube, eyes fluttering closed for a moment, before moving closer, his body blocking Kris's view of the proceedings. It's probably just as well, because Kris isn't sure he could stomach actually seeing Adam slide into him without coming all over himself.

Then Adam slides his fingers out and fits himself to Kris's opening, looking down on him with searching eyes.

"It's probably going to be uncomfortable at first," he warns, pushing forward slightly. "But it'll get better, okay?"

"Okay," Kris manages, sliding his arms around Adam's back. "I'm ready."

"Take a deep breath for me," Adam instructs.

Kris sucks in a breath.

"And now breathe out slowly," Adam murmurs, pushing forward.

Kris lets the breath out through his teeth, while Adam slides into him. It's too big and too much, yet he never wants it to stop. It burns slightly, but not as much as Kris expected, and the slack-jawed look on Adam's face makes it more than worth it. Adam doesn't stop until he bottoms out, hips pressed flush against Kris ass and then he just stays there, sucking in rapid breaths.

Kris can feel Adam's arms trembling against his sides and he shifts slightly trying to get used to the overwhelming fullness.

"Oh God," Adam groans. "You have to keep still, baby."

Kris doesn't want to be still, squirming feels absolutely amazing, and he does it again shifting Adam inside of him.

"Fuck," Adam curses and starts thrusting, sliding down on his elbows to curl his hands around Kris's shoulders.

It feels so good Kris can't even breathe, better than he ever imagined. Adam's fingers were nothing compared to the slick hard length of Adam's cock. He pulls his legs up wrapping them around Adam's back urging him on with his heels.

Things go hazy after that, time losing all meaning while Adam pounds into him, sending waves of crazy pleasure through his system. Kris didn't know sex could be this good and he tries to tell Adam, but he's pretty sure none of the words spilling from his lips make sense. He digs his fingers into Adam's back and mashes his mouth against Adam's trying but failing to kiss him between his breathless moans. He feels completely wrecked, overwhelmed with pleasure.

Adam keeps up a running commentary on how precious, beautiful, special, amazing Kris is, words tumbling endlessly from his tongue to make up for his day of silence and it's that more than anything that finally pushes Kris over the edge, his vision blurring and his cock jerking hard with his most intense orgasm of the day. Adam follows moments after him, as if he were just waiting for Kris to come first, moaning his release against Kris's mouth.

Kris forces his eyes open to watch Adam come apart above him. He's sweaty, flushed and gross but he's still the most beautiful thing Kris has ever seen. Then Adam's arms give out and he collapses on top of Kris, panting into his shoulders. He's heavy and it takes moment for Kris to adjust, but then he wraps his arms tight around Adam, keeping him close. It feels as if Adam's weight is keeping him grounded, as if he might float away if he didn't have Adam to anchor him.

Adam rolls off him and Kris groans weakly when he pulls out, feeling empty all of a sudden.

"Shh," Adam whispers, pulling Kris in to rest against his chest. "It's okay."

Kris clings, wrapping arms and legs around Adam's body. He's never letting go again.

"Shhh," Adam whispers again, threading his fingers through Kris's hair. "I'm here, baby."

Kris lets his eyes slip shut and focuses on breathing. He feels high, floaty and spaced out, muscles twitching randomly, but Adam's soft careful hands are bringing him down, grounding him. The only thing Kris can think is that he's never going to let Adam go again, but when he tries to tell him the words come out an unintelligible babble, and Adam just shushes him again, fingers still stroking soft and slow over Kris's skin. The last thing Kris hears before sleep claims him is Adam's whispered I love you.


The End
Comments are love, as always. It's probably gonna take me months to answer, as always. Thanks for reading. ♥