Written for sidewinder for the 2008 xmas_rocks exchange
| This story is a work of fiction and therefore completely untrue. No harm or libel is meant or implied about any of the individuals named within this work and it was written without their involvement or permission. No profit is being made. |
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Another city, another hotel room, just another day on tour, thought Sting. Finding his two bags inside the door, he walked into the suite already thinking how he was going to handle the night off from the tour. Taking the smaller bag, he wheeled it to the bedroom and dropped it on to the bed. Opening it, he pulled out his toiletry bag. First he would take a hot shower and if he had one, fill the Jacuzzi and take a long hot soak. Then he would see what he could rustle up for the evening. Coming back into his bedroom he found Stewart in a wing backed chair reading a paperback. Sting didn't know if he should be more annoyed that Stewart was in his room or that he seemed to be making himself at home while at it. "Nice to see you made yourself at home," Sting told his guest. "I needed to find something to do while you wallowed in the tub," Stewart said from his seat. "I didn't wallow, I soaked," Sting corrected. Stewart looked from his vantage point. Sting stood just in the room, with a towel slung around his hips. He gave himself a little gulp, he never could not think straight when he thought of Sting keeping himself in such good condition. "Well, if you soaked that long, you should be a prune all over." Sting moved toward Stewart, stopping just a few steps. "Care to see if I'm a prune all over?" he asked dropping the towel to the floor. Stewart eyed what was revealed in front of him and had to say, "Doesn't look like that turned into a prune." "That's good; I would hate to see one of my best assists shrivel up on me in my age." Stewart could see he was up to playing. Marking the book back and placing it on the side table, Stewart sat back and waited to see what Sting wanted to do. Sting stood before Stewart, letting him eye his full cock. "So Stu, what brings you to my room?" "Ah…," Stewart stammered then looked up at Sting, "wanted to see if you had any plans for this evening." "Was thinking of just kicking back, reading my book, but it seems you commandeered it, so it looks like I need to find something else to do. Have any idea?" Sting asked. "Maybe one or two ideas," Stewart answered, knowing that Sting was thinking of something more personable between them. "First I might be able to help out with that." Sting came closer. "Think you can? If I remember right, you were pretty good at that." Stewart took that as a dare and sat forward in the chair. He was eye level with Sting's masculinity. He licked the mushroom head then moved his head to be closer, licking the sides and finally opening his mouth and taking the hardness into his mouth. Stewart closed his eyes and inhaled the scent that he remembered well, the scent that belonged to Sting. Sting moaned when Stewart took him deep. Stewart had always been good at this, taking what he offered and taking it deep. He rocked his hips getting into the rhythm Stewart was setting. Playing him, Stewart let Sting teeter on the edge. He pulled back and heard Sting say "Fuck." Stewart stood quickly and moved Sting to fall back on the bed. It only took a moment to pull the t shirt over his head and pull the sweats and briefs down to the floor, kicking off his shoes to climb on the bed. Straddling Sting's body, he looked down at Sting. "Think I was going to get you get off that easy?" Stewart asked as he lowered his groin to Sting's own hard on. Sting moved and rolled to pin Stewart beneath him. "Cock tease," he ground out as he rocked against Stewart. Stewart smiled as he took the weight against him. Between the saliva on Sting's cock they were sliding. "That's right, cock tease, that's me." Sting moved against Stewart, trying to find the end that was denied him moments ago. All that could be heard was harsh breathing, slick movement, and moans and grunts. Sting pushed hard and came onto their bellies. Stewart now found himself on the edge and rolled Sting back and humped Sting till he too spent himself. Collapsing to the side, on his back, the two of them breathed heavily, trying to catch their breaths from the exertion. They still had an evening to kill. "Up for more?" Sting asked. "Give me a few minutes and we'll see what this body can do." Sting chuckled, "Finally you sound like an old man." "I am old. Give me a break will ya', Mr. Yoga man." Sting sat up then moved to stand up. "Well, when you feel up to it, come join me in the shower then we'll see what trouble we can get into. Maybe even pick on Andy."
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