About Master Preston's Bright Bottom

by Lee Benoit
35 pages / 7300 words
Ebook zipped file contains - html, lit, Adobe and Sony optimized pdf, prc, epub

Months ago, Paulo had one, intense public scene with Master Preston Rose, and now he can’t stop thinking about it. When he hears that Preston needs of a handyman and gardener, Paulo offers his strong back and clever hands for manual labor. He'd rather offer his mouth and ass, but it's a start.

Preston, overwhelmed with work and secretly suffering painful arthritis in his hands, accepts Paulo's help with misgivings. He hasn’t had a sub of his own in years and Paulo's lack of experience is a big red flag. Preston wouldn't choose Paulo even if he was looking for a new sub, which he isn't -- is he? Working for Preston and getting to know the reclusive Dom, Paulo's more determined than ever to remain a part of the retired Dom's life, but will all of his work be enough to earn him the collar he dreams of?

Previously published in Toy Box: Collars

Sample

“I am the very model of a modern twinky on the prowl...”

“Would you cut it out? These leather guys hear your Gilbert and Sullivan homage and we’re both out on our asses.”

Paulo laughed, tickled. “If you want these guys to take us seriously, you should stop using words like ‘homage.’” He pranced up to the door, and opened it for Jim with a flourish.

Jim scowled and pushed him through first. “And what are you wearing? I thought you wanted to check out the leather scene, maybe find someone to play with. You stand out like a limp dick at a circle jerk.”

Paulo pouted and plucked at his shiny club wear. “Limp dicks don’t stand out, Jim.”

He hadn’t been entirely honest with his friend and chorus mate. Yeah, he wanted to get a taste of the scene, but mostly he wanted to pick Jim’s brain about a certain Master Rose. He didn’t care about all the daddies eyeing him up as they crossed to the bar -- if he could just find a way to get Preston to see him as something other than a dilettante poser, he’d have accomplished his mission. He gave his silver t-shirt a tug and sashayed outrageously to a bar stool, giving Jim a show as he straddled it.

“You’re impossible,” Jim grumbled, and ordered two beers.

“Thank you,” Paulo said primly.

They turned in their seats and faced the rest of the club as they drank. Daddies circled, boys sneered. Jim slouched and spread his legs as one especially huge cub wandered by, nodding at Jim’s crotch but not making eye contact.

Paulo watched him walk, his beefy ass rolling, giant arms swinging.

“Him?” he gaped at Jim.

Jim shrugged and ducked his head. “What can I say? I like my daddies young.”

“Maybe he’ll come back,” Paulo soothed. “I thought Preston was more your style.”

“Nah. I mean, I’ve worked with Preston for years, and he’s the best. I’ve even played with him since he retired, just to stay in fighting trim, you know?”

Paulo nodded, hoping the low lighting concealed his grinding jaw. Why should Jim get to play with Preston, when it clearly was nothing but a convenience for either of them?

“Anyway, he’s not my type, not for real, you know? And he hasn’t even wanted to play much since his book got picked up?”

“Picked up?”

“You and your one-track mind.” Jim passed him another beer. “Picked up by an agent, and now it’s being published, so he’s working like crazy. He even tried to get me to do some yard work for him so he could work on edits.” Jim laughed and took another pull on his beer. “Once a top, always a top.”

Paulo shifted in his seat. He had to go see Preston. The man needed him. He just didn’t know it yet. He’d finish his beer, but leaving Jim in the lurch seemed rude and ungrateful.

The meaty baby bear walked by again, with another predatory look at Jim. Jim gave a little shudder, but didn’t make a move.

Obviously, Paulo would have to take matters into his own hands. “Bathroom break!” he sang as he slipped off the stool. He sailed over to the leather-clad guy, hooking him by the belt loop and towing him to the men’s room.

The guy growled, “Kid, you’re obviously new around here so I’ll take it easy...”

“Hush, little daddy. I don’t want you, and you can’t handle this,” Paulo camped, slapping his ass hard enough to hear over the music. “But my friend is your wet dream come true. He’s saving a seat for you.”

They took their time walking back to the bar, giving Jim plenty of time to see them together and get all hot under the collar, so to speak.

When they reached the bar, Paulo gestured Baby Bear to the stool next to Jim. He leaned in close to Jim and smiled sweetly. “I’ve done your hunting for you, buddy. Now, call me a cab.”

“You’re going over to Preston’s, aren’t you?” Jim was shaking his head with disbelief, even as he flipped his phone open and gave a shy, dazzling smile to his new, furry friend.

The ride to Master Rose’s place was longer than Paulo had anticipated, nearly out of town, where the suburbs and strip malls ended and the nurseries and horse farms began. The ride was almost long enough for Paulo to talk himself out of his plan.

He asked the cabbie to wait and, with a witness to fortify him, made his way to Master Rose’s door.

He fought the urge to kneel when the door swung open.

“Paulo.”

Paulo was struck dumb. Master Rose in his stage leathers was mouthwatering, and he’d worn that suit at the concert like nobody’s business. But this Master Rose, barefoot in blue jeans, flannel shirt open over a t-shirt worn thin enough to see the shadow of his chest hair through it, was just devastating. Could this be what Master Rose looked like when he was just… Preston?