Lubes City (Steamy BL Stories)

Ethan My hands held Adrian down on the rug, right there in the middle of his office. The lamp on the desk cast a warm glow over us. I could feel every inch of him under me, those broad shoulders tense at first, then slowly relaxing as I pressed closer. His hazel eyes, flecked with gold, locked onto mine. They were darker now, full of something hungry instead of his usual steady calm. “Ethan,” he breathed, voice rough in a way I had never heard during our real sessions. I leaned in until my lips touched his ear. “Forget the therapy talk tonight,” I whispered. My breath brushed his skin. “I want you to feel this.” I rocked my hips against him and felt how hard he was. My own c**k throbbed in response. I kissed his neck, then sucked on the spot just below his jaw until he let out a low groan that went straight through me. My fingers worked fast, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. I ran my hands over his chest, tracing the firm muscle, the light dusting of hair that led down. “You have no idea how many times I sat in that chair wanting to do this.” I moved lower, kissing and nipping my way down his body. When I reached his belt I looked up at him. His eyes were half-closed, lips parted. I pulled the belt open, then the zipper. The sound seemed loud in the quiet room. I tugged his slacks and boxers down together. His c**k sprang free, thick and flushed. I wrapped my hand around the base and leaned in, my mouth so close I could feel the heat coming off him. I parted my lips… A loud buzzing noise blasted right across my ears. I jerked awake, gasping for air. My heart slammed against my ribs. Sweat made my T-shirt cling to my chest and back. My c**k strained hard against my boxers, aching. I sat up in bed and rubbed my hands over my face. The dream still felt so close, like I could almost taste him. I had been having this same dream for days, always cutting off at the best part. I checked the clock. 7:15 AM. “Time to get up,” I muttered. In the bathroom I stripped and stepped into the shower. I turned the water all the way cold. The spray hit me hard and made me suck in a sharp breath. Little by little the cold worked. My body calmed down. I stood there longer than I needed to, letting the water run over my shoulders to further cool me down. “Bless whoever invented cold showers,” I groaned as my body finally started to relax. When I finally felt normal again I washed up, dried off, and got dressed in my usual jeans and a black button-down. I grabbed my camera bag and headed out for the day. The hotel gig kept me busy all morning. Carla, the manager, met me at the entrance with a big smile. “Morning, Ethan! Ready to make our suites look irresistible?” “Always,” I said. “Lead the way.” She showed me around the wellness rooms. I spent the next few hours setting up shots, the soft morning light pouring across linen sheets, steam curling up from a deep soaking tub, a yoga mat rolled out by the window. I adjusted my lens and called out instructions to the models. “Lean back a little more… perfect, hold that.” The camera clicked steadily. Carla brought me coffee halfway through and chatted while I worked. “You really have a talent for this,” she said. “Everything looks so peaceful and inviting.” “Thanks. That’s what I’m going for.” I smiled and kept shooting, losing myself in the work for a while. By early afternoon I met Lila back at the studio. She was already editing at her desk, curly red hair piled up. “Hey you,” she said. “How was the hotel?” “Went well. Good light today. Carla seemed happy with what I got so far.” We talked for a few minutes about our projects, then she stood up. “I’m hungry. Lunch?” “Yeah, let’s go.” We walked together to the café down the block. We ordered our usual sandwiches and sat outside at a small table. The sun felt warm on my arms. “So tell me more about the shoot,” Lila said between bites. “Any diva models or smooth sailing?” I laughed. “Mostly smooth. One of the guys kept asking for tips on looking natural. I told him to pretend he just had the best nap of his life.” Lila grinned. “Classic Ethan advice. My client is still driving me crazy with changes. I swear they don’t know what they want.” We kept talking about work, deadlines, and a funny story from her last shoot. It felt good to laugh with her. After we finished eating we walked back to the studio together. As we stepped inside, Lila glanced at me. “You seem to be visiting your therapist a lot more frequently these days. That’s good, right? Are you finally letting go of everything with Marcus?” The question hit me harder than I expected. Old, bad memories rushed back before I could stop them. Marcus, my ex-fiancé. We had been together for three years. I thought we were end game low-key. Then came that big gala last year. I was the lead photographer for a celebrity campaign. I brought Marcus as my plus one. That was the night he met Damien Cross, the rising actor with the killer smile and millions of followers. They talked all evening. Two weeks later Marcus told me he was leaving. He moved out and started appearing in blurry paparazzi shots with Damien. The man who used to complain about my long hours suddenly had time for red carpets and private jets. I remembered the last fight we had in our old apartment. Marcus standing by the door with his suitcase. “This is bigger than us, Ethan. I didn’t plan for it, but I can’t ignore how I feel.” I had stood there numb, my camera bag still slung over my shoulder from another late job. “After everything?” He just shook his head. “I’m sorry.” Lila must have noticed me drifting because she reached over and squeezed my arm. “Hey. It’s his loss anyway.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I heard Damien is keeping him pretty hidden these days. His parents aren’t taking the whole coming-out thing lightly. Lots of pressure from that old-money family.” I let out a slow breath and nodded. “Yeah… probably for the best I don’t know all the details.” We got back to work after that. I sat at my desk and edited the hotel photos, adjusting light and colors until the images felt warm and alive. Lila played her indie playlist softly in the background. Every now and then she would call out a question about lenses or ask my opinion on one of her shots. We fell into our usual rhythm, joking about bad clients and sharing tips. The normal back-and-forth helped push the old memories of this afternoon to the side. Around four-thirty I stretched and checked the time. “I need to wrap up. Got my therapy session at six.” Lila looked up from her screen. “Alright. Take care of yourself, okay? And hey, if that guy Alex from the app messages you, be cool.” I smiled. “Will do. See you tomorrow.” I packed my camera bag, said quick goodbyes to the other creatives still around, and stepped out into the early evening. The air had cooled off. Cars moved along the street and people hurried home from work. My stomach felt tight as I walked toward Dr. Adrian Hale’s building. Another session. Another hour of sitting across from him, trying to sound normal while my mind kept replaying those dreams. I thought about the messages from Alex waiting on my phone. Easy conversations. Safe. A good distraction. But as I got closer to the office, all I could picture were Adrian’s broad shoulders in that chair, his calm voice asking how I felt, and those hazel eyes that always seemed to see more than I wanted them to. I adjusted the strap on my shoulder and kept walking. Just get through tonight, I told myself. One session at a time.