There were also boots--shiny and black, the kind a biker might wear. Some leather pants, well-worn and soft to the touch. Mesh shirts with leather trim, arm bands, collars, and belts coiled tightly together. There were thongs, some with silver accents, some with chains, most just small swatches of soft leather that didn't look as if they could cradle a cock the size of Vic's. Whatever came of their night out, Matt would make sure a few of those found their way into his lover's underwear drawer, for those times when they needed something a little sexier than boxer briefs to get things rolling.

On the night of his birthday, Vic switched shifts with a coworker to have the day off. Matt cooked a succulent dinner of steak and shrimp, two of Vic's favorite foods, and they shared a bottle of wine to chase down the meal. By the time they headed to the bedroom to dress for the club, Matt had begun to laugh a bit too loudly--the wine was getting to him, and suddenly he found every little thing funny. He couldn't hold his liquor, a fact Vic thought delightfully cute. Stripping out of his T-shirt, Vic asked, "Are you drunk already?"

"Already?" Matt echoed. He stepped up behind Vic and reached around his lover's girth to rub the smooth skin of his belly. Vic's arms were raised above his head, caught in his shirt, and he felt damp lips press between his shoulder blades as Matt kissed him. "This ain't nothing, babe. Just you wait."

The leather clothing lay out on the bed. Once Matt released him, Vic stepped into the leather pants, savoring the feel of the fabric against his bare skin. He didn't bother with underwear--the soft leather slid easily into place, cradling his buttocks, molding to his balls, caressing his dick. As he snapped closed the fly, his cock began to stiffen beneath his fingers, the leather straining against him. He loved the way it cupped his length, the skin supple on his own. Each move he made rubbed his dick along the suede-like interior of the pants, turning him on, and the animalistic smell of treated leather rose around him like heady cologne. By the time he had selected a mesh tank top to wear, his whole groin throbbed with a sweet ache.

Matt chose the boyshorts. The polished leather gleamed like latex as it curved over Matt's ass, and the breakaway crotch bulged against his cock and balls. He opted for the vest, and the hemmed darts framed his package nicely. Catching Matt's hand in his own, Vic reeled in his lover for a smoldering kiss. ::Love you.::

"Happy birthday, big boy," Matt sighed. The alcohol on his breath stirred Vic's blood, and when he dipped into Matt's mind, he felt the wine buzzing like an undercurrent through his lover's thoughts. "Let's go show you off. What's the name of this place again?"

Vic laughed. "You don't remember?"

"Something 'Cover,' isn't it?" Matt spread Vic's arms apart to step into their span and press his body against his lover's. Through the mesh of Vic's shirt, Matt picked at his lover's pert nipples, his brow creased in thought. "Why am I thinking sewer? That can't be right."

Given his lover's weakness against booze, Vic wasn't surprised Matt didn't remember. "It's called the Manhole."

Matt's eyes widened. "That sounds promising in so many ways."