Flash Fiction Friday

I'm sure it's still Friday somewhere...

mellow Rock is mellowhorny


Rig had made margaritas. The kind with the ground up ice that were fucking perfect on a hot day in the sun.

Rock had four.

He was not getting out of the hammock for love or money.

Of course Rig was also wearing a pair of cut-offs that were even more sinfully short than usual.

"C'mere, Rabbit."

"Hmm?" Rig looked over at him, smiled, licked his lips.

Damn, Rig was still the best damn looking cowboy... "I said get your ass over here where it belongs."

"I was just working on my tan." Rig rolled up and those cut offs slipped down and he saw a hint of those white curls.

His voice dropped into a rumble. "Uh-huh. I got something better than a tan for you to work on over here."

"Mmm."

Fuck, he loved to watch Rig move, hips rocking side to side like the slut he was.

"Fucking sex on a stick, Rig."

"Hope to be fucking you, soon." Rig's fingers slid down his belly.

He chuckled, even as he sucked in his belly, letting his muscles play for Rig's fingers and giving his Rabbit lots of room to undo his jeans. Rig knew just what he wanted, too, baring his cock even as Rig leaned down to kiss him.

He swept his tongue into Rig's mouth, his hand landing behind Rig's head to keep him there. Rig fucking tasted like sex, too. Margaritas and sex. Salt, lime, tequila, and come -- fuck. Fuck, his rabbit.

Growling, he tugged Rig onto him, the hammock swinging wildly.

"Don't you drop me!" Rig's laugh rang out.

"Would I drop you?" Not even drunk on margaritas.

"Never. Not ever."

Rig's kiss burned him to the bone.

He tugged at the little shorts, grinning as he heard the ripping noise.

"Ruining my clothes..."

"You look better out of them."

And now they were prick to prick with nothing in between. Too bad he couldn't get any fucking purchase on the God damned hammock.

Rig groaned, hips rolling, body sliding against his. He put his hands on that ass and encouraged the moments, helped them.

"Rock. Want you." He could feel it, feel Rig hot and stiff against him.

"All fucking yours, Rabbit."

"Yeah." Rig got a toe hold on the hammock, started rubbing against him.

"Oh, fuck, yes." Just like that.

"Fine, fat cock." Rig grabbed the top of the hammock, let him lie there and just watch. Just feel.

He could feel every inch as their pricks slid together, the pleasure the perfect accompaniment to his buzz.

Rig smiled for him, moaning his name. He grabbed himself another kiss, Rig filling all his senses. He kept one hand on Rig's ass, moved them together just that much faster.

It wasn't going to take long before he was going to blow and he wanted Rig right there with him.

"Blue." Rig groaned, tongue fucking his lips, making him some hard-core promises.

"Right fucking here."

"Yeah. Fuck, yeah." He wasn't the only one.

"Come on, Rabbit. Fucking show me how hot I am."

The corners of Rig's eyes crinkled, the grin happy, wild. "Fuck..."

"That's fucking right." He managed to get his heel jammed into the hammock and pushed up into Rig.

Rig's answer was a grunt, a low cry, so he did it again, and then one more time. That was all it took for Rig to grab him, shoot. The scent of Rig's come was enough to get him off, too. He shouted into Rig's mouth as more heat spread between them.

"Mmm." Rig cuddled in, even though they were sticky and hot.

He just wrapped his arms around Rig and let the mellow roll through him.

The slap of skin on skin came, followed by Dick's voice. "Mmm. Margaritas and a floor show. I have got to be the luckiest working stiff in the world."