There’s a knock on Lito's trailer door.
“Come in,” Lito calls, aware that his voice is pitched too high, an edge of panic in it. The wannabe starlet pouts and sits up slowly, dragging her long scarlet fingernails down his chest. It’s the price of stardom—the price of being the hottest, manliest action star in Mexico.
The door opens. Lito cranes his head around, wishing he was on the other side of the trailer, away from the woman’s cloying perfume. Her bosoms are practically falling out of her top and her come-hither eyes are asking for things he can never give her, but she’s trapped him in the corner of the couch. While it would give him great satisfaction to push her off so that she lands on her curvy ass on the floor, he can’t bring himself to behave in such an ungentlemanly fashion. Also, who knows what she would tell people? He can’t afford any rumours.
And then he wishes he’d just gotten up and damn the consequences, because it’s Hernando coming in. Hernando, the last person in the world he would want seeing him like this. They haven’t been dating long. What will he think is happening here?
Hernando’s eyes have gone very wide and his eyebrows are raised very high. Lito can’t tell how much of that is genuine surprise and how much is Hernando basically saying what the fuck.
“Hello, Lito,” Hernando says mildly.
“Hernando,” Lito says, and this time when he tries to escape, the young woman moves as well. She slides off his lap and drapes herself seductively against the corner cushions, pouting in a way that should make any red-blooded man fall over himself to give her anything she wants.
This red-blooded man, however, only wants the gorgeous guy standing just inside his trailer, looking him up and down, his face expressionless now. Apologies, excuses, tremble on Lito’s tongue but he can’t say anything, not with this woman here. Not without risking raising suspicion.
He pastes his most charming smile on his face, the one that’s adorned many a magazine cover and turns to hold out his hand to the woman. Thankfully, she takes the hint and allows him to help her gracefully to her feet. She sways against his chest and looks up at him through her fake eyelashes. “I’ll see you later, Lito,” she purrs.
“Yes, yes.” Lito smiles, taking her arm and trying not to make it seem like he’s hustling her out as he bundles her out of the trailer.
He closes the door behind her and turns and slumps against the door, letting out a deep sigh of relief. Hernando hasn’t moved from his position near the door. He’s close enough that Lito can look up at him from under his eyelashes as he smiles sheepishly. He’s been told many times how seductive that expression is and he’s quite used to women visibly melting when he turns the expression on them.
Hernando, however, looks distinctly unimpressed. He folds his arms across his chest and looks at Lito expectantly.
Lito shrugs, and raises his arms, palms open. “I am sorry, Hernando,” he says, imploringly.
“You know how it is.”
“I can’t help it if women throw themselves at me.”
“You could try not catching them.”
“Did that really look like... do you really think....”
Hernando smiles, finally. He unfolds his arms and then ducks his head as he adjusts the position of his glasses, a habitual gesture Lito has come to find adorable. “Actually,” he says, chuckling, “you looked like the damsel in distress from one of your movies, about to be ravished by the dastardly villain. For a moment there I was wondering if I was going to have to step in and play the role of the hero.”
Lito sighs in relief. “You saved me, coming in like that. Looking all fierce and macho.”
Hernando looks at him over his glasses. “I did, did I?” He takes a step forward, placing his hand on Lito’s chest, pushing firmly. Lito takes an obedient step back. He’s backed against the door of the trailer now. Blood rushes to his groin and his cock stirs, beginning to fill. His breath starts to shorten at the intent look in Hernando’s eyes. Hernando leans in and breathes into his ear, “And how does the damsel express her gratitude to the hero?”
“The damsel is virtu—” Lito forgets what he was going to say. Hernando’s hand is sliding under his waistband, pressing against Lito’s abdomen to make room. Lito sucks his stomach in as much as he can. It’s the first time he’s regretted how tight these leather pants are. Hernando’s fondling his cock but his movement’s restricted.
Lito fumbles to undo his fly, letting out a sigh of relief when he finally gets it open and his cock springs free. Hernando starts to jack him properly. Lito’s conscious that Hernando is staring at him, his eyes smoky and seductive.
Hernando’s other hand slides down the back of Lito’s pants, cupping his ass, squeezing. Then fingers are sliding into his crease, circling his hole, the electric sensation making him gasp.
These stupid trousers are just in the way. He grasps the waistband, starts working them down. He’s constrained by Hernando’s proximity, Hernando’s arm around him, but he doesn’t want him to stop. His pants are trapped at his thighs now; he can’t get them any further down. He groans with frustration.
Hernando sucks a hickey onto his neck and the bruising pain sends a pulse of heat arrowing to his cock. Lito’s head thumps back against his trailer door. He feels marked, and even though it will probably need to be covered up by make-up tomorrow, he wants it, he wants whatever signs of ownership Hernando will give him. Even though this relationship is still new, Lito wants it, wants all of it. Wants Hernando.
“More,” he gasps.
Hernando growls and the sound goes straight to Lito’s groin. Then Hernando lets go, pulling his hands out of Lito’s pants. Lito, concerned, opens eyes he hadn’t realised had fallen closed. But Hernando isn’t going anywhere. Hernando is taking hold of his hips, swinging Lito firmly around, swinging them both around. He’s walking Lito backwards. Hernando’s eyes are blazing. Lito is transfixed.
The back of the couch hits Lito in the back of his thighs. His hands start to fly up, to grab something to stop his fall, but it’s okay. Hernando has him in a firm hold. He turns Lito to face away from him. There’s a firm, possessive hand between his shoulder blades, and Lito goes down willingly, eagerly. His cock rubs against the fabric of the couch. He’s fantasized about this many times, and the forbiddenness of it, here at work, just makes it hotter. But there’s still a corner of his brain that’s not completely lust-soaked, that’s sending off alarm bells, reminding him that getting caught would be career-ending at best.
“The door,” he gasps, starting to gather himself, he needs to check....
Hernando’s voice sounds way too collected, even amused. “Locked, of course.”
Lito subsides. He trusts Hernando. They haven’t been dating that long, but Hernando has been the soul of discretion from the start. Hernando understands the importance of keeping their relationship secret.
Hernando’s rubbing fingers over Lito’s hole again now, his intent clear. Lito tries to spread his legs more, but he can’t. He’d forgotten. He reaches behind himself, trying to work his trousers further down, but the angle’s wrong. He’s stuck.
The electric sensation stops, Hernando’s fingers disappear. Lito’s trousers are yanked firmly down to his ankles and his ass cheeks are pulled apart. Then Hernando is sliding his cock along the crease, over and over. The head of his cock catches at Lito’s hole on every stroke and their balls rub together as Hernando’s pace increases.
Lito’s not stretched enough, he knows, but he doesn’t care. He needs Hernando to fuck him. He needs to feel Hernando in him, finally. It feels like he’s wanted this forever. Hernando’s been careful with him up to now, perhaps wanting their first fuck to be special. Hernando’s a romantic. Lito wonders what’s changed his mind, if he’d been jealous of the girl after all.
“Make me yours, Hernando,” he gasps, and Hernando growls again in response. But he doesn’t push in like Lito expects, like Lito wants him to. Instead, he pulls away completely. Before Lito can protest, there’s a firm, wet probing sensation at his ass. Lito can barely think, barely comprehend what’s going on. He’s never had this before, he had no idea that it felt like this, so overwhelming. All he can do is hang on to the couch, his sweaty hands slipping on the leather. He’s barely aware that he’s making a whining sound in his throat as Hernando’s lips and tongue work him. Hernando’s fingers are there too, sliding inside so easily, turning and twisting and rubbing over his prostate, all these sensations combining to drive Lito crazy with ecstasy.
He doesn’t know how long they’ve been at it, how long Hernando has been playing his body like a master. He’s not aware of anything except the desire that consumes his body—not just desire, though. It’s more than that. He’s suffused with a sensation he thinks must be love, because sex has never been like this, so overwhelming. He tries to say as much.
He’s not sure he’s even coherent, but he hears Hernando answer. Hernando’s voice. It sounds breathless; it sounds broken as he says, “Lito, Lito, me too.” Then Hernando’s surrounding him; Hernando’s sliding his arms around him, gathering him up, their bodies pressed closely together. Hernando pushes into him, Lito’s body opening easily as Lito yields himself to Hernando—his lover—yields himself joyfully.