Suddenly, I feel like I’m weightless—my soul having been snatched right out from inside me as I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. Warmth blooms in my lower gut, and my balls tighten. I have no idea if what I cry out is even intelligible, all I know is that I’m at max volume, trembling and writhing beneath him.
My cock fires out jet after jet of hot cum. I didn’t even realize I had it in me to orgasm this hard, or so much…
“Fuck,” I sputter as he moves aside, so I can roll over and away from the mess that spilled over his hand and onto the bed. I lay here for a bit, eyes closed and blissed out, while I come down to Earth. Finally, I start to come to my senses again, and I confess, “That was my first time getting eaten out, and that was—fuck, that was amazing.”
More than amazing, it was blissful. Is there another word more poignant than blissful? Because maybe that’s what I want. Uber-euphoric or something. That may not have been where I saw tonight taking us, but I amby farnot displeased by the change in outcome.
A choked noise from Evan gets me to open my eyes. When I do, I’m met with Evan’s gaping expression. “I don’t even know what to be more shocked about right now, the fact that you swore again, or—what do you mean? That was really your first time?”
I bite the inside of one of my hot cheeks and nod. “Yeah…”
“Oh, goddamn,” Evan groans, swiping a hand down his face, “and I thought I couldn’t get any harder...”
“Can I please take care of that for you? I did really good just watching, but I can’t stand not returning the favor, especially after that epicness.”
He takes a moment to consider it, but then rises off the bed and fetches me a washcloth to clean off with. Then he tosses me my swim shorts from my clean laundry heap on the chair in the corner of the room. One that I have yet to find the time to put away, but not because I have too much stuff to take care of from the camp, for once.
No, this time, it’s because I’ve been far too distracted by Evan and seeing wherever this experience takes us. We’ve been too invested in building something meaningful between us, because we both realize that we’ve got just this summer to see if this blossoms into something worth pursuing once camp ends, for me to focus on things like folding and putting away laundry. But something tells me that if I keep making a mess of my bedding like this, it may need to become more of a priority.
“I’m too hot to stay up in this muggy room. Let’s go for a swim,” Evan suggests. “There must be somewhere private on this shore we can go to,” he adds with a wink.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Evan lays out the blanket on the sandy beach. Just out of eyeshot of the bright lights that keep the property illuminated until bedtime, this place is one of my favorites to come out to when I just need to watch the sun set, stargaze, and get my mind right. It’s a cozy little cove that Morgan knows to keep a secret from all the campers, because I have so few spots that are quiet and secluded like this.
I work on getting us a campfire started in the makeshift ring I made years ago—a simple thing thrown together with bigger rocks I hauled out of the lake. There’s always driftwood around here to burn. After each winter, it seems a new supply is always washed up.
I feel like I’m letting Evan into one of my little sanctuaries by bringing him to mine and Morgs’ little calm oasis. The only other person we’ve ever allowed here is Ryann—well, some of her ashes, anyway. Morgs and I often come here, if we just want to chat with her. We feel her more here than at her grave.
Tonight, there’s nothing but the sound of crickets chirping, tree frogs trilling, crackles and snaps of burning wood, small waves lapping softly on the gravelly sand, and the occasional low, haunting cry of the loons. The cooler night air and the slight breeze that rustles the leaves on the nearby stand of birch and maple trees is just enough to cut through the oppressiveness of the early-July humidity.
“This is nice,” Evan hums quietly, pulling me down on the blanket next to him. “A far cry from the activity up the way, huh?”
“Oh gosh, yes. I used to come out here in the mornings and sip my coffee and do a little journaling. I tried some yoga, but I don’t really think I’ve got the flow thing down. Turned into chaos stretching, a realization that I’m not as flexible as when I was a cheerleader, and a poor imitation of appearing serene,” I admit with a chuckle. “It’s the effort that counts, sometimes.”
Evan laughs, and it’s a sound more perfect than all the others. It sounds like some of the weight he carried to camp with him has been stripped away. He may not have presented here with much literal luggage, but he did come with a heaping mound of emotional baggage.
It’s been rewarding to watch it evaporate away, like the fog that hovers over the lake in the mornings and dissipates as the sun drinks it up.
“How are you feeling about everything, Evan?” I check in with him.
“Better,” he tells me. “I mean, I know logistically we’ve been in this little bubble here, but I finally feel like I’m starting to see my purpose. Colton came and actually helped me with a project today, on his afternoon off. Well, he and Petro, but it felt good to see him so happy, like he could be himself around me for the first time in a long time. We took a ride out to go get ice cream togetherafter. Don’t get me in trouble with the law, but I actually let him drive my truck,” he admits with a grin.
I smirk.
“I promised him that, even when this summer is over, I’d like to have regular check-ins where he could tell me everything without judgement,” he continues. “I also promised him I’d stop drinking so much. Apparently it bothered him to see me drinking every night, alone in my thoughts. I didn’t think it was a problem, but if it bothers him, I’m willing to cut back.”
“That’s really good,” I murmur, daring to rest my head on his chest.
With one of his arms bent so he can use his palm as a headrest, he curls the other around me, pulling me in closer, giving in to his constant need for touch. We lay there for a while, just listening to the sizzle and pops of the fire, staring up at the stars—me tracing the blinking lights of a distant jet, silently cutting its way through the dark, inky sky. Slowly, I let my hand wander down his abdomen, eventually landing on the bulge in his sweats. I cup it and slowly start stroking.
Beneath my cheek, I feel his pulse quicken. His breath starts to come in shorter pants, interspersed with little sighs and muffled groans whenever I apply more pressure. It doesn’t take much until I feel he’s fully hard again beneath my palm. He makes no move to bat me away or try to join in this time. I think he’s finally ready to offer himself to me, without interference.
This will be the first time I get to pleasure him without it being something mutual we’re doing together. We’ve jerked each other off, and we’ve frotted, but he’s never let me just spend some unrequited time experiencing him for myself. Similar to how I felt like I always had to perform for repayment, it’s like he just can’t let himself go either. It’s like he feels unworthy of such pleasure. So, this vulnerability he’s showing me is all new.
This, right here, is not a gift I’m about to squander, nor do I take it lightly.
Gently, I push myself up, kissing him before I let myself descend his body. I hook my finger under the waistband of his sweatpants, pull them down, and practically start drooling when his fat dick bobs free, slapping against his stomach. It twitches with need as I settle my body between his spread, thick, hairy thighs.Time to shine.
