All Kinds of Wrong ~ Hugh/?
All Kinds of Wrong
for lady_t_220 who asked for ...something seedy. The kind of hot that's all sorts of dirty!wrong and kind of makes you need a shower after thinking about it, but damned if you don't end up thinking about it anyway. And for her it must always be Hugh Jackman. :)
200 words
R
Not Mine.
This was all kinds of wrong. All kinds.
From posting the ad to giving out the hotel location and room number, to dimming the lights and stripping off his clothes. Leaving the door unlocked.
It was all kinds of bad. It made his cock impossibly hard, his face flushed, hot. His palms wet, his normally calm pulse race through his body.
He could find a discreet escort service. He could simply jerk off and watch porn, he was here under an alias. It wasn’t like anyone could track ’Monster Truck Fuckfest’ back to Hugh Jackman.
But he’d miss the set up. Cruising Craigslist. The careful, deliberate wording. The wait, the now that was killing him. Making him shiver and sweat as if he’d never done this before. As if no one would show. As if the wrong person would.
Heavy steps came down the hallway. Hugh’s lips curled into a smile he couldn’t control as the doorknob turned. Open and shut, click of the bolt.
Hugh stared at the carpet, sitting on the edge of the bed. Legs spread wide, hands on his thighs. Shudder running through him at the familiar voice.
His voice.
“Why aren’t you on your knees?”
*smooch*
for lady_t_220 who asked for ...something seedy. The kind of hot that's all sorts of dirty!wrong and kind of makes you need a shower after thinking about it, but damned if you don't end up thinking about it anyway. And for her it must always be Hugh Jackman. :)
200 words
R
Not Mine.
This was all kinds of wrong. All kinds.
From posting the ad to giving out the hotel location and room number, to dimming the lights and stripping off his clothes. Leaving the door unlocked.
It was all kinds of bad. It made his cock impossibly hard, his face flushed, hot. His palms wet, his normally calm pulse race through his body.
He could find a discreet escort service. He could simply jerk off and watch porn, he was here under an alias. It wasn’t like anyone could track ’Monster Truck Fuckfest’ back to Hugh Jackman.
But he’d miss the set up. Cruising Craigslist. The careful, deliberate wording. The wait, the now that was killing him. Making him shiver and sweat as if he’d never done this before. As if no one would show. As if the wrong person would.
Heavy steps came down the hallway. Hugh’s lips curled into a smile he couldn’t control as the doorknob turned. Open and shut, click of the bolt.
Hugh stared at the carpet, sitting on the edge of the bed. Legs spread wide, hands on his thighs. Shudder running through him at the familiar voice.
His voice.
“Why aren’t you on your knees?”
*smooch*