Double Indemnity by Maggie Kavanagh

Sam’s pity. Better pity a man like Feldman who had every advantage, yet lacked the strength to show his true face to the world, or someone like Nathan or Sam, who hid pain away behind closed doors and socially condoned anesthetics.
    Maybe Sam was getting too maudlin for his own good.
    He turned his gaze again to the window and watched the evening zoom by.
    Once the train left them off at Grand Central, Sam decided to walk downtown and stretch his legs. The heavy traffic of the city filled the air with exhaust, which combined with the sweet smell of roasting peanuts as the skyscrapers of midtown gave way to shorter, picturesque brownstones. After about an hour, he entered a familiar neighborhood, lively with late shoppers and groups of friends heading out for the night, meeting and mingling at cafes and trendy bars. Even for early fall, the city was noticeably warmer than it had been in Stonebridge. Most of the guys wore jeans and tees to show off their sculpted muscles and tattoos, their hair artfully mussed. A few of them gave Sam appreciative once-overs, which he returned in a noncommittal way.
    When he and Yuri first met, they’d come to the city often—usually to pick up guys, but sometimes to hang out, just the two of them. It had been a while, though, and Sam wondered how things had gotten so fucking weird. Maybe it was his fault. He’d sensed Yuri’s feelings for him had grown more serious, but he’d been too caught up in his own desires and the convenience of their relationship to think too hard about it.
    Hours passed. At around midnight, Sam found himself in a club he’d never been to. The patrons tended toward the leather end of the spectrum, muscular and barrel-chested. After a few shots, he made his way onto the dance floor, pushing through the sweaty male bodies. Everyone was smiling and laughing as they gyrated to the strong bass rhythm, and Sam found himself swept up in the crowd. Before long he was sandwiched between two guys, clearly a couple looking for a third. Both of them were big—taller than Sam and broader—and their arms snaked around him to find each other. Sam felt a hot, wet mouth on the back of his neck, kissing down to the nape. The other guy moved closer so Sam could straddle his thigh. A hard erection pushed against Sam’s pelvis and another against his ass, and Sam’s body responded.
    â€œHaven’t seen you around here,” the guy in back said, loud enough to hear over the music.
    â€œYeah. I don’t come down to the city much.”
    His partner grinned and nosed forward, kissing Sam’s jaw. His head fell back against a powerful shoulder.
    â€œThat’s a shame. Well, now that we’ve got you, whatever will we do with you?”
    Another drink and a couple of songs later, and the answer to that question was “anything you want,” which was exactly how Sam wound up back at an apartment on all fours, with one of the guys eating his ass and the other thrusting powerfully into his mouth. The cock was thick, and Sam did his best to swallow it down, sucking hard despite the unpleasant taste of mint latex.
    He gripped his own erection and pulled as the guy behind him spread his ass and pushed in one lubed finger. Sam willed himself to relax as his body adjusted to the girth of the cock pressing into him from behind. A hand on his jaw guided him gently, distracting him from the pain of the stretch. For such big guys, both of them were surprisingly careful and affectionate. They kissed across Sam’s back, and he was only vaguely aware of the sounds they made. Every thrust shattered something inside, making him want to come and cry at the same time.
    When he came, neither of them had finished, so he lay back on the bed while they jerked their cocks and painted his chest and face. The guy with the anchor tattoo on his left pec rubbed his softening prick against Sam’s cheek, smearing his jizz and shuddering with the