 The man stood up; he was several inches taller than Tom’s slight, just-over-six-foot frame. He held out one of those large, delicious hands and said, “Philip.” Tom shook the offered hand, liking its warm, strong feeling. No calluses, just a slight roughness to his skin. “Tom.” Philip looked down, scratched at the back of his head, and blushed. “I know.” Tom slipped into the chair opposite Philip and pushed the plate between them. “Have you tried Billy’s sandwiches? It’s one thing I look forward to every time I come here.” “You come here much?” “Not as much as I’d like. But you know how it is, have to be careful. This sure isn’t New York or Paris.” Tom bit into his sandwich, then sipped his whiskey. “Woo…not smooth.” Philip laughed. “No, it sure ain’t. But it does the job.” He picked up one of the sandwiches, took a bite, and chewed slowly. “You teach at that school up near West 140th.” It wasn’t a question. Tom nodded. “Is that where you know me from?” His voice stayed calm, but he had no idea how. Was it possible this was the father of one of his students? Tom wasn’t naïve enough to think it not possible. He’d just prefer not to get involved if that was the case. “I’m a cop, that’s part of my beat.” “Are you the reason this place never seems to get raided?” Tom asked. “I keep an ear to the ground. We’ve been lucky so far is what I figure. No one cares about a little shack this far out.” “Good thing for us,” Tom said. He relaxed and leaned over the table, closer to Philip. He smelled of a nice mixture of whiskey, laundered clothes, and a man who worked hard for his living. Tom rather liked it. An hour later they used the key Billy had given Tom. Tom’s chest was pressed to the wall just inside the door with Philip’s arms wrapped securely around Tom, holding them together. Philip groaned, hips bumping against Tom’s ass. Tom felt how Philip’s rock-hard thighs tensed, then quivered. He pulled Tom back, grip tightening, hips grinding and shoving harder against Tom until his cock pulsed and Tom was filled with heat. When Philip’s breathing was a bit calmer, he pulled away from Tom and spun him so his back was against the wall. Using those big, wonderful hands, he held Tom in place, dropped to his knees, and took Tom’s cock in his mouth. Tom’s knees buckled as Philip sucked and swirled his tongue all over Tom’s cock. He would have slid to the floor had it not been for Philip’s hands bracing him and keeping him in place. A Barlow Lens is available in eBook, paperback and
through Kindle Unlimited. This month the eBook is only $2.99.
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