“I just took a shower,” I call out, a bit breathless. “Might wanna give it a few minutes.”
“It’s a tankless water system,viejo,” he says, opening the door to my room.
I drag a pillow over my erection as he walks in and frantically fumble with my phone until I find and hit the pause button. Ant stops short.
“Shit. Sorry, dude. Didn’t mean to interrupt yourmetime.” He coughs back a laugh as I slide my arm under my head. “Uh, nice pillow.”
Want to see what’s under it?
Pulling back the invitation from the tip of my tongue, I look down.
Fuck.
It’s the decorative pillow that came with the ocean-themed set. The large tentacle in the middle is a particularly unfortunate feature.
“Get out,” I grump, pointing at the door. “And knock next time!”
Ant turns to leave, then looks over his shoulder, his eyes landing on the damn pillow again. With a salacious wink, he salutes before leaving me alone with my embarrassing porn.
Asshole. I remove the pillow, still at full mast.
“Oh!” he says, walking back into the room with a hand covering his eyes. I don’t trust him in the slightest, so I slide the pillow back in place. “Hedy called me—the Cessna needs some work, so Wimberley’s lending us the smaller jet for next week’s locations.”
I sigh in relief. The Cessna is a nice plane, but I feel safer with Ant on one of the jets.
Ant playfully peeks between his fingers, then pouts when he sees the pillow back in place. “Damn. You’re no fun.”
“Get out!”
He walks out, cackling, and I’m left with a bigger dilemma.
Rather than the petite submissive begging for his husband’s enormous cock, all I can picture now is Ant’s knowing smirk morphing to pained, overstuffed pleasure as I enter him in one swift thrust.
That’s right, little one. Your body is mine to do with as I please.
Fuck.
I am not going to jerk off to Ant.
I can’t.
Only…fuck, my hand on his throat. His dark cherry nipples so plump and stretched, awaiting my mouth.
Maybe…just this once.
I’m so hard that three, four—ah, shit, his tiny hole stretched impossibly around my hard length—five strokes—fuck, fuck, fuck, his petite body jerking forward with each punishing thrust—is all it takes for thick white cum to streak my abs and spill down my tight grip.
Even though I’d love to see my cum dripping from his abused hole, I can also imagine his pink tongue lapping up my release as I guide him, my palm on the back of his head.
Yes, baby. I could be so good to you.
Another thick dribble of cum makes its way down my white knuckles. I squeeze harder, almost to the point of pain. A punishment for perving on my tiny, deadly, perfect roommate.
Throwing the decorative—and, frankly, profane—pillow across the room, I grab the box of tissues and mop up my disgraceful mess. After pulling on my favorite lounge pants and an old T-shirt, I shove down the reality of what I just did, grab my laptop, and head to the bunkhouse’s common area.
I set up at the dining room table and send messages to all our contacts, making sure they’re good with the updated schedule and that transportation, lodging, and food are all taken care of.
Ant, fresh from a shower and wearing only a pair of loose, white pajama bottoms—so perfect against his sun-soaked skin—walks by me to grab an apple from the counter. He smells like that cocoa butter lotion he likes to wear while I still smell faintly of cum. I glare at the laptop, hoping it looks like concentration as I widen my legs to make room for my thickening shaft.
