Billy Russo

It was less a pass and more of a toss, and Frank laughed breathlessly. He squeezed Billy’s thigh briefly and then took his hands off him, just long enough to assess, to assure. He didn’t want to hurt him. He considered the string of condoms lost in the sheets and Billy’s long, lean body, and then slicked himself bare. His fingers grazed him briefly, spreading lube. God, he was still slick and easy.

Frank groaned as he nudged, slowly, into him.