Clean House First


Knock, knock.

Who’s there? Jamie thought as he changed direction and walked towards his front door. He looked through the peephole, grinned, then opened the door wide.


“Hey, there, Jamie. You alone?”



Derian stepped into the house, shut and locked the door behind him, and grasped the waistband of Jamie’s jeans.

“Heeey!” Jamie raised his dark, fluffy eyebrows. “Hold on, Der.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” He pulled on the waistband, forcing Jamie to follow him to the couch. “You know what time it is?”

“Two-thirty in the afternoon.”

“Yup. But it’s also Quality Time.” Derian unbuttoned Jamie’s jeans and pushed them down his legs. “Time for Quality your butt.”

“But -- ”

“That’s right, Jamie. That’s where I’m going.” Derian yanked down Jamie’s brief, then pressed the small of his back, pushing him face-down on the couch. “Quality Time...’cause it sure as hell’s not going to be Quantity Time. Not with this Louisville Slugger in my pants.”

But -- ”

“Keep on saying it. That’s the magic word of the day.” And then Derian was on Jamie, his penis sliding into the younger man’s body. “Ahhh...I lubed myself before I came here. Saves time, doesn’t it?”

“Sure does.” Jamie cringed. It was too late now to say what he had wanted to say after “but”.

“Hard, fast, and deep. That’s how it’s going to be.” Derian’s hands clenched Jamie’s shoulder blades. “Your ass feels especially tight right now.” Arousal turned the captain’s voice into a sultry growl.

I wanted to tell you why, Jamie responded silently. But you’re gonna find out -- the hard way -- soon enough.

“I’m gonna fuck your beautiful ass until I come -- oooooooh. Ahhhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhh!”

It happened sooner than Derian had expected.

“Oh, yeah, Der. Fill me up.” As if that’s what I needed right now.

“Ohhhh....ohhhh...” Finally, Derian pulled out. “Nothing like a quickie to add flavor to a dull -- oh, shit!

Jamie wished he could sink down into the cushions of his couch as if it were quicksand. But that was only a pipe dream. In reality, he had no exit route -- not from his lover’s reaction, and sure as holy fuck not from the unmistakable odor filling the air, an odor that was as far from sexy as any smell could get.

“Jesus H. Gretzky on a Chicken-in-a-Biskit!” shouted Derian. “This looks like a photo on!”

“Geez, Der...” Jamie started to form his lips into an apology...until he realized that he didn’t need to apologize for anything.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you basic etiquette?” he asked. “Clean house first...then, you let guests inside.”

Jamie spat with indignation.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you that when you barge into a house without a formal invitation, you can’t always expect it to be clean!”

That made Derian quiet.

“Good point, Jamie.”

Jamie sat up, turned around, and got a good look at Derian’s ebbing penis. “Aw, maaaaannnnnn!”

“Jamie, it looks like I just balled an unflushed toilet.”

“No duh, Der!” Jamie was just as grossed out as Derian now. “It’s stinking like a barn in here.”

“I think your ass needs to meet porcelain, and quick.” Derian waved his hand in the direction of the bathroom. “Your throne awaits, King James.”

“Finally.” Jamie ran to the bathroom and away from this messed-up scene.

A few minutes later...

“Ahhh, now that’s the pause that refreshes -- aw, Der, what are you waiting for? Clean your dick!

“Because I’m going to do that in the shower. And you are coming with me.”


“The one upstairs, with the handheld shower head...” The two men headed in that direction. “I’m sure glad Ed isn’t around. I’d hate to hear what he’d have to say about this...”

“He’d say, ‘When you ride the Hershey Highway, you’d better expect to get brown.’”

“Watch it, Jamie. That was Ed-think if I ever heard it.”

* * *

Derian stood under the shower head, letting a heavy stream of water pour down on his genitalia as he scrubbed vigorously with a soapy washcloth.

“Are you finished yet?” Jamie stood behind him, trying to get whatever warm steam that wasn’t blocked by the wall of Derian’s body.

“Not until I feel clean.” Derian turned his head. “Hey, what are you doing, just standing there?” He slapped a bar of Dial into Jamie’s hand. “Wash that ass.”

Jamie gripped the bar of soap in his left hand and brought it around to his backside.

“Don’t just swipe the cheeks, now. You’ve got to really dig into the crack.”

“Geez, Der, you think I don’t know how to wash my ass!”

“Sometimes, I wonder...”

Derian, finally satisfied that Jamie’s residue was gone from his person, in smell as well as sight, gripped the showerhead and slid it out of its holder.

“Bend over, Jamie.”

“What?” Jamie’s eyes widened. “Are you sure I’m clean enough yet?”

“Not for that.” Derian aimed the showerhead at Jamie’s butt. “Ever hear the word bidet?”

He brought it closer and turned on the massage setting. Jamie stepped back.

“That tickles, Der!”

“The tickle has a purpose, dear Jamie. It’s really scrubbing that skin. But you keep on soaping down there. I want that hole to smell like Dial.”

“Howard Stern says you can never wash the natural smell of ass away.”

“Howard Stern is a big fat idiot.”

“I thought that was Rush.”

“Whatever. Now spread those cheeks wide. Your butt is gonna be so clean, you can eat off it.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be easy, Der.”

“Maybe for you. But not for me.” Derian dropped to his knees.

“Heeeeyyyy -- Der, now that really tickles!”

“Have to do the taste test, you know.”

“ are one wild, kinky, adorable Derian.”

“And you are my sweet Jamie. Even when you stink, you’re sweet.”

Jamie handed Derian the bar of Dial.

“You know, Der...when you get finished cleaning my ass, maybe you can work on those funky armpits.”


“Just kidding. I dig it when you sweat.” Jamie snuggled closer to Derian’s wet, slippery skin. “Especially when we’re sweating together -- and I don’t mean in the weight room.”

Derian turned around to kiss his favorite dark-haired winger.

“Say, house is pretty cleaned up now.” Jamie’s brown eyes widened. “Wanna come inside?”

“Hell, yes. But let’s do it in the bed this time. Hard, slow and deep.”

Jamie turned off the showerhead.

“It’s on, Der.”