Ororo answered to Harlow's actions by moving his hips in small circles, trying to get all of his ass covered by the other's hands. “Are you in a hurry, sir?” Ororo asked with a smile as he leaned forward for another kiss, his hands going down to his torso. Ororo caressed his pecs and his abs as they went down to his waist. There, he took Harlow's T-shirt and pulled it up to take it off. He sighed at the sight of Harlow's body — he knew it from scratch, but it always amazed him. He cupped his hands on his pecs and massaged them, dedicating the thumbs to stimulate his nipples. “Come on, let's... roll around, as you said.” His lips went for Harlow's ear and neck, biting them softly, sometimes even licking the bitten zones, not minding the sweat covering his skin. All he wanted to do was have Harlow on the ground to get between his knees and blow him. Ororo hadn't realized how much he had missed him until he had sat on his lap.

Erik chuckled as he shook his head, not fully believing the situation. “That's the problem, exactly. You look too good to be a bar owner, if I may say so” he took a sip from the beer, closing his eyes, before he fixed them on the man. “They tend to be bald, fat, with a grasy moustache and with a strong odour of fry-ups. Oh, and from the South, with a long shotgun under the counter.” He gave a look at the whole bar, not even trying to hide his smile, his amusement. “But you did a good job here. How was it? The lottery? A heritage? Or you just happened to have money?” He crossed his arms on the counter and leaned forward a bit, trying to create a scenario of confidence between them. If Erik wasn't wrong, he knew how the night was going to end. Or at least he knew for sure how he wanted his night to end whether it was with that bar owner or not.

bamf!

Miles Morales is going to rule 2018.

I have an exam tomorrow and it's gonna be a fucking long night studying so replies will have to wait until tomorrow afternoon.

Michael B. Jordan by Art Streiber for Men’s Health (2018).

jackfalahee: I know Notre Dame is around here somewhere..

Peter moaned against Tanner's pubes when he felt his finger. A second later, a few drops of precum stained his underwear. “Sorry” he muttered as he finally stripped Tanner naked. He looked up at Tanner before he licked his lips and then ran his tongue along the boy's shaft, from his testicles to his glans. He was waiting his confirmation to blow him.

Keeping a low profile was more difficult than it sounded like. Erik had left Genosha to go to several meetings and when he wasn't in them, he was spending his time in bars, sitting in a dark corner and making sure no one recognised him. His only entertainment were beers, although he was making sure not to get drunk. “Babe? Hah, I like that. But don't worry. I'm in a hotel a couple of blocks away, so I won't need that ride, babe.” Erik took a long gulp from the glass and licked his lips, savouring it with his eyes closed. When he opened them, he pointed at the waiter with a shake of his head. “You don't look like a bar owner. Is this all yours? And thank you for the beer, by the way. It tastes so much better when it's free!”

Open to tops

Harley was not one for office work. While he looked fucking fantastic in a suit, the actual job drove his anxiety through the roof. So he left his corporate job and opened a bar. Harley always loved the people aspect of the corporate world, but the greed of it destroyed all the joy of it. The bar gave him those connections back without having to worry about dehumanizing the other individual for the sake of a contract. 

Closing up, Harley noticed that he had one last patron in the building. Smiling a bit, he grabbed a frosted glass and filled it to the brim with beer.  “This ones on me babe.” Harley said, setting the glass in front of the other. “Just let me make sure you get home safe after I close up, okay?”

Peter's answer was a shake with his head, still admiring Tanner's pec and his cock only growing under the clothes. It was now or never, he thought. Peter took Tanner's shirt off before kneeling down, kissing his whole torso in the way. It felt like a dream, so why waste time? He'd probably wake up a few minutes later with a hard on and wanting to masturbate. “A-and you?” he asked, lowering his pants a few inches, just enough to see his pubes. With a smile, he buried his blushing face in them and started to kiss the zone while slowly lowering his trousers more and more. That wasn't happening, was it?