The mattress underneath Lyle’s body was lumpy, and not even the scented candles that flickered around Arius’s all-but-literal hole-in-the-wall could mask its smell. He took a moment to marvel over the concept that he hadn’t noticed that the last time he’d been there, but then forgave himself when he remembered that he hadn’t spent any time face-planted into the bed. He opened his eyes, wondered how long he’d been asleep, and forced his weary body to rise. They hadn’t had s*x per se, though he doubted that purists would agree with him on that fact. Instead of replaying the activities of their first get-together, instead of allowing Lyle to penetrate him, Arius had forced Lyle onto his back and given Lyle an exquisite hand job that had lasted far longer than Lyle would have believed he could
