Eliano's breaths grow a little ragged, his control fraying at the edges, but he keeps it reined in, hips rolling in those languid circles, cock teasing my depths without ever going too far.
My hands roam his back, tracing the flex of his muscles as he moves, feeling the power held in check just for me. The feeling of being stretched is there, a constant undercurrent, but it's dulled now, transformed into something strangely pleasurable, like the ache of a good workout. I arch into him, meeting each sway with a subtle lift of my hips, our bodies syncing perfectly.
The crazy kisses don't stop, they keep me breathless. My channel throbs again, another pulse of pleasure building, stronger now, coiling low in my belly as his movements stay even, unrelenting in their slowness.
He shifts slightly, angling to rub that spot more directly, and the next withdrawal pulls a whine from my throat, my hole contracting emptily before he fills it again.
The sensation is mesmerizing, each inch of him claiming me anew, the copious slick making it glide like silk over fire. I feel every detail, his cock’s curvature pressing against my walls. My own release hovers close, teased by the friction, and I kiss him harder, nipping at his lower lip.
Finally, the tension buckles. Eliano's pace picks up just a fraction, his hips snapping forward in chaotic thrusts that hit a bit deeper but still not bottoming out. He groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my lips, his eyes squeezing shut tight as he loses himself in it.
"Salt… fuck, you feel too damn good," he stammers, breaths coming in sharp bursts. And yet again, I shatter, my channel clamping down in rhythmic pulses, a full-body orgasm tearing through me. Cum spills hot across my stomach, my moans muffled against his mouth as waves of ecstasy crash over, leaving me shaking.
Eliano follows seconds later, his cock swelling inside me, thrusts stuttering as he comes with a deep, guttural groan, eyelids pinched shut, face contorted in bliss.
He rocks through it, drawing out our pleasure until we're both spent, bodies slick with sweat.
We collapse like that, him still half-buried in me, our limbs tangled in a heap.
No words come, just heavy breathing filling the silence, our chests rising in unison. I feel deflated, like a balloon that's lost all air, limp and boneless against the mattress.
My mind drifts, thoughts swirling in the haze: the way he makes me feel… fuck. Fine. Sometimes I just let it be.
Eliano's arm drapes over me, but he doesn't speak either, just lies there, lost in his own head.
The quiet stretches.
It’s relaxed yet charged at the same time, until it’s time to leave the ‘u’-shaped screen.
When we get up, Eliano leans down and lifts my T-shirt, bunching it up and holding it so that I can only stick my head into it while he pulls it down over my sweaty body.
It’s a nice gesture, so foreign to me, yet weirdly caring. Our eyes meet for a moment. I get this silly urge to hug him, but instead, I just bow my head.
What a shame. It’s strangely painful, I wish I could just open up to him. But I can’t. We’re not meant to be.
A second later, we step out of the screen and discover that the hall is empty! All the other pairs have left. We exchange glances with peculiar grimaces.
As we walk back home along the promenade, there’s a moment when Eliano makes a gesture as if he wants to take my hand. But he doesn’t.
Good.
Or is it?
???
That evening I notice Eliano is unusually absorbed in something on his laptop, his brow furrowed as he stares at the screen.
I feel tempted to ask if something happened, because I can clearly sense tension running through him, but in the end I let it go.
Sketches of a few tattoo ideas float through my mind, but before I can get to them, a knock sounds at the door.
I am surprised to see Hugh standing there. He grins broadly and immediately hands us an album. It is clearly something made on-site, probably run through a laminating printer, but it looks decent enough.
"It turned out really beautifully. I picked the best shots," he says confidently, opening it to the first page, which shows the two of us locked in a passionate embrace.
Eliano stands and joins us, curious.
He flips through the album as well. Like before, his eyes are lingering on the photos that focus on me.
