We’ve only just begun when he lets go of one of his legs to grab his cock and begins jerking. My eyes become glued to his hand moving over his dick, and I unconsciously match my pace with that of his hand.
“Oh, god, I’m going to come,” Brevan says. “Just like that, Kendrick. Right there.”
I swear, stars explode right in front of my eyes as soon as his cum begins shooting from his dick in stringy spurts. The way his ass tightens around my cock as he moans through his orgasm doesn’t give me a choice but to follow. He’s so damn tight around my cock as he comes that I can’t see anything but those stars as I gasp through my own climax.
Oh fuck. I didn’t mean for that to end so soon.
My body sways slightly before I lower my body on top of his, squishing his hand around his cock and the messy load he released between us. I struggle to catch my breath as I rasp, “Sorry. Didn’t mean for that to be so quick.”
His hand grips the back of my neck. “There are more condoms, right?” I nod. “We can try again and see if we can break that record.”
I grin and concentrate on regaining my strength for another round. I’m not sure it’ll take much convincing for my body to get on board. My cock doesn’t feel like it’s interested in softening. Probably because it’s been starved for eons.
CHAPTER 23
BREVAN
We spent the day at þórðargleði University, visiting different parts of the campus to experience student life as a group. I was so happy when Kendrick shared my thoughts regarding the constant inclusion of the word ‘change’ and how he wanted to discontinue its use.
Einar shared a big smile with me during this conversation.
Since we planned to stay on campus later today than we have been, we arrived later too. The þórðargleði students wanted us to experience all hours of campus life, including in the evenings and some extracurricular activities, such as their groups and teams.
I think we all appreciated the insight because it proved how similar we already are. They have a very happy atmosphere. But, while most people dress in many layers and we typically see them outside, it’s without the extra layers that we begin seeing personalities.
It’s not so different from Rainbow Dorset, though maybe because there isn’t such a distinct separation between þórðargleði University and the majority of the country, like there is at RDU. We have such a big concentration of people finally allowed to express themselves, and it comes out in loud colors.There hasn’t been that kind of repression of identity here, so their colors aren’t quite as loud.
I remind myself of yesterday’s conversation with Einar as we talk, and the other RDU students point out what’s different. I’m glad when Einar explains the same thing to them that she did to me about the ‘normative’ cultures. Everyone is considered normal in Iceland. Their differences don’t make them different. They make them human.
That might be the biggest takeaway I’ll bring home with me. There are places in the world that understand differences make us human, and they’re normal. That’s how everyone should be viewed and treated.
Our group is going for dinner together tonight, so instead of fourteen on the bus, there are twenty-eight. We head south to the town of Vík and the Reynisfjara Black Sand Beach to take in the unique, beautiful scenery.
On our way, one of the þórðargleði students, Alexander, tells us about what we’re going to see here, beginning with the dangers.
“As tempting as it is, remember to stay out of the restricted area. Because of the unique location of Iceland, splitting the Atlantic from the Arctic oceans, there are many, many kilometers for waves to form, and there aren’t always warnings. These sneaker waves are unpredictable and can come quite suddenly, reaching far up the beach. They’re one of the most dangerous natural occurrences in Iceland.”
“Sneaker waves,” Jerome muses. “I’m imagining a wave wearing sneakers.”
Many snort in response.
“Those would be far less dangerous,” Alexander says, smirking. “The sand at Reynisfjara is black because of its formation from cooled lava that flowed into the ocean during eruptions. The lava fragments were broken down over timeby the powerful waves, creating distinctive black sand. One of the coolest features we’re going to see is the towering basalt columns located along the cliffs of Reynisfjall Mountain. These hexagonal rock formations are formed by cooling lava and create an impressive steppingstone appearance for the beach.”
“They sound like the Giant’s Causeway in Ireland,” Sarabeth notes.
“Similar, yes,” Alexander says.
He continues to tell us about the beach and what we’re going to see as we get closer. I’ve not traveled a lot, and while nothing we’re driving by is particularly unfamiliar, there’s a different atmosphere here. I may be looking at snow-covered fields, of which there are plenty in the US during the winter months, but everything looks magical here.
There’s a kind of serenity that I’ve never felt in my country. There’s still beauty there, definitely, but I don’t think anything homegrown will ever hold the magic of the same kind of scenery in a foreign land. I could stare all day.
The beaches are stunning. I’ve never been to Ireland, so I can’t compare the basalt towers to the Giant’s Causeway, but I can totally see how they appear to be stairs climbing the mountain. Their unique shape makes them feel surreal, as if they were produced by some supernatural phenomena and not the ocean and volcanoes.
We don’t see one of these sneaker waves, which I’m not upset about, since there were some stupid people beyond the barrier. Alexander explains that the people who ignore the warnings and move into dangerous areas aren’t just putting their lives at risk, but the lives of those who would try to warn them, and then, furthermore, the lives of rescuers should the stupid people get dragged away by a sneaker wave.
He determines that we’re not going to bother warning them. People need to learn to take accountability for their own actions.There’s no need to put our lives on the line for those who have no value for their own.
One thing I’ll say about the beach, aside from its distinctive beauty, is that the wind is biting. I’m so damn cold by the time we walk back to town for dinner. My teeth are chattering in my head, no matter how hard I try to make them stop.
