SHOW

ME BONUS SCENE

NEVE WILDER
Copyright © 2021 by Neve Wilder
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 CONTENTS

1. Jesse
2. Sam
 1

JESSE

A side from my eight grade foot rub, I’d had only one
other experience that could loosely qualify as a
massage, and I couldn’t say with any certainty that it
wasn’t incidental since the guy had also been trying to to
remove a skin-tight pair of pants I was wearing at the time.
He’d attempted being smooth by gripping my hips and
rubbing his thumbs over the waistband trying to delve
behind before I finally took pity on him and shimmied free.
This time there was an actual table involved, located in
the U’s athletic facility, which Sam had somehow gotten
access to late on an off-season Saturday night—I didn’t
ask too many questions because I didn’t care.
Upon that table was… me.
I wriggled around trying to get comfortable, already half
hard at the mental image of Sam’s big hands gliding over
my skin. I was a tiny bit self-conscious of the single towel
covering my ass, and of the fact that Sam would’ve
practically hung off the table, a mountainous terrain of
gorgeously sculpted male, whereas I imagined I looked like
a toothpick lying within an empty box.
So it was somewhat gratifying when the door opened
and I heard Sam exhale softly through his nose the way I’d
learned he did when he thought I was especially cute or
sexy.
As the door clicked shut behind me, I craned a look
over my shoulders and my mouth promptly fell open as I
stared.
Sam rubbed a hand over his bare, gleaming chest, then
ran it down the tiny shorts vacuum-sealed to his body. “I
watched some more videos for research because I forgot
to pay attention to what they wear and some of the guys…”
He trailed off. “Do these shorts look dumb?”
I bit my lower lip, tempering the smile forming, and then
saw its counterpart curving on Sam’s lips. “No, they look
like…” I hesitated. God, so many options there.
He chuckled and glanced down at his watch. “I’ll give
you fifteen seconds. And…. go.”
“It looks like you tried to shoplift one of those giant
sausages you see in a deli case at the grocery store. Or
like an eggplant and two cantaloupes decided to become
bffs and all move in together in a cramped New York studio
apartment. No, no,” I interrupted myself. “It’s like you
stuffed an entire weiner dog in your pants.” I shook my
head and put a hand up. “I’m sorry, we’re going to have to
switch. There’s no fucking way I can play a straight dude
while you look like that. No. Way.” I tried to push up on my
elbows but Sam planted a hand square in the middle of my
back and pushed me back down gently.
The air whooshed from my lungs in a sigh, because I
loved when he did that. Tingles ran up my spine and Sam
let his touch linger before sinking his hand through my hair
and bending over. His kiss was warm across my jaw and
didn’t last nearly as long as I wanted it to. I tried to chase it
by turning my head, but only caught his smile, eyes warm
as they met mine.
“You can do it. It’s gonna be fun.”
 I sank back down on the table, my bones and heart
turned to goo. That was really all it took. Sam’s faith in me,
even over something dumb, and I was done. When I
nodded mutely, my agreement was rewarded with another
kiss, this one on the lips.
“I’m gonna go out and come back in. You ready?”
“Yes.”

F IFTEEN MINUTES LATER , I STILL WASN ’ T READY , BUT I’ D LONG

ago learned I couldn’t truly prepare myself for Sam. My
back arched involuntarily as he ran both hands up my side,
his touch firm with the perfect amount of pressure. He truly
could’ve been a massage therapist, except I would’ve
been insanely jealous of his clients until my dying day.
“Ahhhhhhmaaazzzzinnnnnng,” I moaned, like the
shameless little touch slut I was, and followed it up with
another heartfelt sigh as Sam dug into the dimples above
my ass. I’d expected the bare minimum of actual massage
until we got down to the sexy stuff, but Sam seemed to
want to take his time and I wasn’t gonna complain. Our
viewers could enjoy a solid slow burn, and I could enjoy
my muscles liquefying one by one.
Or, well, that was the intent, but Sam shifted position at
that point, maneuvering closer to the head of the table
where my eyes were. And my eyes, being their usual
gluttonous selves, did what they naturally tended to do,
which was to glom onto the closest part of Sam at any
given time. In this case, his dickprint. My mouth literally
watered as I clenched my jaw to stave off the natural urge
to open and lurch toward it.
“You’re tense. Got a lot of knots that I’m having to work
real hard to loosen.” Sam’s gruff, stilted tone suggested he
was also working hard to stave off his natural instincts.
“You spend a lot of time in a desk chair?”
“On my knees, actually.” It escaped before I could help
it and Sam spluttered from above as I tried to salvage the
bit before we both cracked up. “I mean, at a library. Where
I work.” I cleared my throat. “I shelve a lot of books that live
near the floor.” The hell? I cleared my throat again. More
conviction. “It’s hard on my knees. Shelving books.” I
paused. “Which is the only thing I do on my knees. Since
I’m very straight.”
“Naturally.” The grin in Sam’s voice made me smile,
too. “You seem to hold a lot of tension in your jaw, also.
You’ve been clenching it mighty hard this entire time.”
“Have I?” I rubbed at it thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re
right. Hmmm.”
“I’ve got a remedy for that,” Sam drawled. “It’s a little off
the beaten track.”
“Oh?” I froze as he ran the back of his knuckles along
my jaw. Had that been in the script? Trying to remember
our mental checklist was an uphill battle against the
dazzling visual array of skin and hard dick in front of me,
though. I was pretty sure we were in uncharted territory but
I didn’t care.
“Uh huh.” He ran his thumb slowly along the waistband
of his shorts. “Are you game to try something different? I
can gua-ran-tee it’ll loosen your jaw right up.”
I was mildly concerned he might need a crowbar to pry
his shorts off, but no, he managed to slip his fingers just
behind the elastic band. All at once, there was his dick, a
tragic inch short of my mouth.
“I’m straight!” I cried, completely unconvincingly, and
two or twenty lines ahead of the script. If there was in fact
still a script.
Sam’s shoulders shook with silent laughter before he
squared them and pressed his lips together. His brows
furrowed, his expression turning somber. “Oh, I know.
What I’m about to suggest is purely for therapeutic
purposes.”
I should have been howling with laughter. Truly. It was
ridiculous. We were ridiculous. But there were many, many
serious inches of hard, pre-cum oozing dick in front of me
that quelled the desire. Sam ran a thumb over my lips and
slid it inside my mouth, the action and taste familiar. I kept
my gaze glued to his, addicted to the lusty cast that
darkened them.
I stifled a whimper when he pulled away, but he was
back a second later, one big paw wrapped around his
bigger cock.
“What do I do?” I whispered, pleased with how straight
that sounded. I mean, if straight had a sound, I’m pretty
sure I captured it in that moment.
“Let’s see if we can get it in your mouth and we’ll go
from there.”
Once again, not on the script and surprisingly sultry. I
glanced up at Sam and found his gaze warm with promise.
Fuck. I wiggled, my stiff dick leaking on the table, a bolt of
pleasure spearing through me. I attempted what I hoped
looked like a tentative lick of his crown but what I
suspected looked more akin to a hippopotamus presented
with an ice cream cone. I had no chill. Or what I did have
was short lived.
Sam’s head fell back as soon as I wrapped my lips
around him, his hand drifting to its customary stroke of my
hair until he seemed to come to his senses and remember
what we were doing. But his slip into the familiar pattern
made me all cozy inside.
He groaned some version of English as I took more of
him into my mouth, lapping at the underside of his cock
before pulling back.
“I think I’m holding some tension in my ass, too,” I
confessed shamelessly, and fluttered my lashes as Sam
lost it.
Still laughing, he bent close to my ear again, this time
capturing my lobe between his teeth and making a
delicious shiver run across my shoulder before he
murmured. “You’re on your way to the Oscars, baby. Best
straight guy performance ever. So real. So lifelike.”
“I take my craft seriously.” Solemnity was hard to
achieve when I was wagging my ass in the air like a
beacon.
Sam got my drift. A second later, I was groaning again
as he stroked my hole with coconut oil-lubed fingers before
pushing them inside.
A muffled curse escaped me when he nudged one of
my legs wider until I hitched it up at an angle, leaving
myself spread wide. Sam palmed my ass with his giant
hand like it was a basketball, thumb and the heel of his
palm kneading the plump flesh while his fingers pumped in
and out of me. Sparks danced through me at the casual
possession in his touch, at how familiar and known my
body was to him.
I sucked him slowly, luxuriating in the feel of him inside
my mouth, the texture of his skin, how I could feel his
heartbeat when I ran my tongue over his dorsal vein.
Glancing up, I found his eyes glued to my mouth and
suspected he was thinking along the same lines. His
expression was soft with the sentiment, a smile on his lips
that lingered in sweet territory for just a moment before it
seemed to spark against the curve of mine and turn a little
wicked.
“How are you feeling?” He arched a brow meaningfully.
“Very gay.” I flicked my tongue over his dick. “I mean,
relaxed. But I think I need you to work me over a little
more.”
Stroking his cock with more vigor, I flexed my ass
against his fingers, the movement sending liquid heat
racing up my spine.
Sam exhaled a curse and then said, louder, “I think I’ve
got just the thing.”
“Oh, I’ll bet you do.”
This was the part we hadn’t really fully fleshed out.
Generally speaking, we had a solid idea of how we’d
begin, and then as we kept trying to add to the scene, we’d
get ourselves all hot and bothered and either stop what we
were doing to fuck or decide to just go ahead with the half-
baked scene idea right then.
So the twin warmth of Sam’s mitts wrapping around my
thighs and yanking me unceremoniously toward the end of
the table caught me off guard. Yelping, I flailed and caught
hold of the sides to maintain balance as my legs hit air. I
should’ve known better, though. Sam had me. He steadied
me with a hand around my waist as my feet found the
ground. His hand continued to rub over my ass, that same
loving, possessive touch that told me he was enjoying
what he saw and felt.
“Damn,” his voice was low. “I’m not sure how long I’m
gonna last with you like this.”
“Yeah? You like me bent over a table?”
“I like you bent over anything, but I maybe
underestimated the power of the straight guy massage
trope because I am fucking into it.”
We’d probably watched at least twenty different videos
to prep and it’d gone from only sorta kinda being his thing
to him being a zealot. Kinks were weird like that. Guess
who wasn’t complaining.
“So if I did this—” I let go of the table with one hand and
reached behind me to spread my asscheek, grinning at the
harsh intake of breath that came from behind me. “Does
that help or hurt?”
“It seriously hurts your claim that you’re not gay, but it
seriously helps my plight to get off soon, so fuck it. God,
can you do that again?”
 2

SAM

“D o what?” Jesse asked as if he didn’t know 999

million ways to drive me crazy and as if he didn’t
employ every one of them regularly.
As if to prove my point, he clutched his cheek a little
tighter, the skin pinking where he firmed his grip, and then
swayed his hips gently side to side again. It was a total
perv’s mating call and I was just the lech to answer it.
I traced his hole with my thumb, pressing gently, and
was rewarded with a quiet hiss of breath as he opened to
my touch. He cried out as I played with him, pressing the
tip of my thumb just inside him while I stroked his heavy
balls with my fingertips.
I could do this all day. I loved exploring Jesse’s body. I
knew he got self conscious sometimes because he was
shorter and leaner than me, but I told him constantly I
loved that about him, and it was true. I marveled at how
flexible he was. How, instead of bulk, he was lithe lean
mass. He was smooth and graceful, and I loved watching
him writhe on top of me.
I squeezed the base of his cock and then slid an oil-
coated finger inside him again. “Think you can take a big
cock like this on your first try?”
 “I can try.” A tremor of what I was pretty sure was
laughter ran through his shoulders. I assumed my question
had inadvertently taken him back to last night the way it
had me. We’d gone down to the kitchen after messing
around to find Cam sitting at the kitchen table with noise-
canceling headphones on as he ate a sandwich. He’d eyed
us for a moment, then pulled them from his ears. “Done,
then?”
“For now,” Jesse had said with a coy wink.
Cam rolled his eyes, but his mouth tilted at the corners.
“I’ve got a request. Or a small critique. Whichever is more
palatable. I hear ‘big cock’ at least five to ten times a
session, and that’s before I bother to put my headphones
on. What about mixing it up? How about some
synonymous adjectives?”
“Colossal turgid member?” Jesse ventured.
“That’s the spirit.”
Now I spread my hand over Jesse’s lower back and
entered him slowly, spikes of pleasure driving through me
with every millimeter of heat that engulfed my cock. The
way he enveloped me was one of my favorite parts—
whether it was his mouth, hand, or ass.
He whimpered again as I sank deeper inside him, my
thumb still running an arc over his rim, feeling the little
twitches of muscle, the seam between his body and mine
enormously arousing in a primal way I couldn’t fully
explain. It was complete awareness of being joined to
someone else, and the tantalizing pleasure and
vulnerability that accompanied that raw realization.
I moved inside him gently, waiting for his body to
assimilate to the invasion until I felt him melt around me.
When it happened, I murmured softly, just for him, “Fuck, I
love you so much and you feel so damn good.”
Jesse let go of his cheek and reached back to squeeze
my hip, which I knew meant ditto. He was outspoken in so
many ways, but he loved quietly, in touches and looks and
smiles, and I fucking adored that, too.
I moved in and out of him steadily at first, our breaths
escalating from steady to raspy pants as he tightened
around me and I picked up speed. He clutched the table
tighter as it wobbled. I kept one hand on him and gripped
the padded corner with my free hand, losing myself to the
rhythm. The squeak of the table, the slap of skin, our
breaths, and Jesse’s quiet curses that grew louder and
needier as I thrust harder inside him.
I lost it when he pushed up from the table, seemingly
unable to help himself. Wrapping my arm around his chest
to keep him upright, I sealed my lips to his when he craned
his head back toward me with a desperate look in his eyes.
He hitched a knee up on the table and cried out as I
speared into him and gripped his cock, stroking him
roughly.
The warm spill of his semen triggered my orgasm and
we shuddered together until we were spent.
Jesse collapsed against the table. I followed him down,
careful to brace my weight on my palms and shift a bit so I
didn’t crush him.
“Do you think the part where I was rocking back onto
your dick gave away the fact that I’m not a gay virgin?” he
panted.
“Pretty sure you gave that away the first time you
touched my dick in the bathroom and then gave me a
handjob that made me see god.”
“Did you really? What’s he like?”
“Cool, I think. He gave me a thumbs up.”
Jesse cackled and we righted ourselves slowly and
took stock of our surroundings. The massage table
traveled across the floor and was covered in oil. Our two
cameras were still in place on their tripods.
I was helpless to stop the grin that formed as I watched
him carefully shake out his jeans from where he’d folded
them on a nearby chair.
“What?” he asked when he caught me.
I shrugged. “Just wondering if a straight guy like
yourself might want to go get some dinner with a not-so-
straight guy like me.”
“As long as you don’t sit right next to me, because that
would be gay,” he joked.
“What about holding your hand?”
Jesse stroked his chin, pretending to consider. “Yeah,
that’s cool. I’m straight, sure, but I’m also enlightened.”
Before I could think of a reply, he was in front of me
rising onto his toes. He cupped my cheeks and brushed a
tender kiss over my lips. “You know I love you, yeah?”
“In a totally hetero way, right?” I kissed the corners of
his grin.
“Obviously.”
Off script. Again. Sometimes I wondered if that was
why people liked our videos so much, though. We rarely
ever made it through a scene as planned, but all the
comments suggested that our viewers loved that we were
absolute shit at trying to be anything other than what we
were: two goofballs who were ridiculously horny and also
ridiculously in love.

—END—

Sam and Jesse were a delight to write. I hope you

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