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Michael Biehn Archive


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Vin stared hungrily at the frosted glass, the rivulets of soap and water, the billowing clouds of steam. Through the haze, he spied a tall figure, lean, pale. The temptation was too much. Quickly stripping his clothes, he opened the shower door and stepped inside, moving close.

His hands gripped the lean waist, slid down the narrow hips, cupped the tight ass cheeks, darted around to the wet, soapy groin. He found his prize. His fingers curled, sliding, teasing, tugging, pulling, stroking. Faster and harder he worked, his own body not to be denied, moving in frantic counterpoint against the heated flesh.

At last the slender back and neck arched, the body tensed, a soft cry of completion falling from those perfect lips. The scent of release fueled his own.

A moment later as breaths calmed, a whispered "So, how was Atlanta?"

"Lonely," Vin snickered against Chris's wet, naked back.

THE END