100 Days To Christmas by Delilah Storm Page A

have had the guts to suggest such a thing, and was very nervous during their first call. Steve kept dropping things and hitting buttons he shouldn't have. It was a wonder he hadn't electrocuted himself the way he kept dropping his drink on the keyboard.
    In fact, Steve was little more than a stammering disaster on legs, but Jackson was patient and kind and more handsome than Steve could have wished. Even though Steve couldn't seem to stitch together an intelligent phrase during the whole conversation, Jackson had suggested Skypeing again the following week, and it had soon become a regular Sunday evening fixture in Steve's life. It had quickly become the thing Steve looked forward to most in his week, and any time they had to cancel, Steve was inconsolable for days -- according to his employees at least.
    Steve owned his own bakery, which had been handed down from father to son for three generations. His parents were currently basking in the glorious Florida sun and Steve had been running the store for nearly seven years now. He'd made some improvements and changes, but the family atmosphere was still there. Usually Steve went down for a few days after the holiday season rush to visit them, but not this year. This year he’d begged out, claiming work, but he was sure his mother guessed the truth. Steve was finally going to meet Jackson, the man he'd been fantasizing about for over a year now.
    Jackson was a lawyer, working at a large law firm in busy New York City. The cases he mentioned and the stories he told about some of the antics in court had Steve wondering how two such different people could actually get along so well, but get along they did. Steve couldn't imagine what prompted Jackson to continue to call him every week, but Steve was thankful for it. Looking at those fine features and talking about nothing and everything made Steve even more thankful for Jackson's continued persistence.
    As always, when visions of Jackson's warm eyes filled Steve's head, his cock went from half hard to fully interested almost too quickly for Steve to maintain his balance. With all that blood rushing to his cock every Sunday, it was a wonder Steve hadn't had any accidents in the shower yet. He leaned on the cold shower tiles, stroking his soap-covered hand over his rock-hard shaft.
    Steve cupped and pulled his balls slightly, wringing a moan from his lips. A little pain always made the pleasure all the sweeter to enjoy. It took mere moments before Steve could feel the familiar tingling in his balls and coursing through his cock. His thumb pressed into the slit on the tip of his penis, his hand stroked quicker from root to tip and back again. Steve stood upright, his other hand moving to pinch his nipple, tweaking it hard as he imagined how good Jackson's hands would feel on his body.
    He imagined Jackson standing behind him, thrusting deeper into Steve's backside as the man's hands pulled the pleasure from his cock. He imagined Jackson's voice whispering sweet, sexy words into his ear and that tantalizing mouth nibbling at his neck, sucking up a mark for everyone to see. His hands stroked faster as he imagined all the fucking, sucking, and playing they would do when they came together. His cock grew impossibly hard and his fingers pinched his nipple one last time.
    "Jackson," Steve moaned as he shot out in short, hard bursts. He gasped, leaning again on the tiles as he watched his seed dripping down the shower wall until it was washed away in the swirl of water.
    It took Steve a few minutes to gather himself. It was always so fast and fantastic right after their chat, with the sight of Jackson and the sound of that deep, drawling voice still so fresh in Steve's mind. He finished washing off quickly and stepped out of the cold shower.
    For the amount of his rent, you'd think the landlord could at least replace the hot water tank so Steve could get a decent shower that lasted more than seven minutes. But Steve wasn't big on making