“Fuck,” he whispered. That single word from him, the sign that he was about to lose control, egged me on.
I grasped his hips with both hands and pulled him forward. His eyes widened as I took him all the way down until my nose was buried in the curls of his pubic hair.
Tears streamed down my eyes. I started choking. He looked panicked, but I shook my head gently, taking care not to hurt him, letting him know this was exactly what I wanted.
I didn’t want him to treat me like a delicate thing. I wanted him to let loose. I liked choking on him.
He stared into my eyes and he must have understood me. We had a deep bond between us. I had always thought it was much more than friendship. We had connected from the moment we met and it had only grown over all these years.
“Please,” I moaned around him.
That was his undoing. He fell apart right in front of me, bucking wildly as he fucked my mouth.
He was a vision to behold. The vein on his neck stood in stark contrast as he threw his head back and roared. Hot cum erupted in my mouth, waves of it. I swallowed as best as I could but there was too much. A dribble escaped out of my mouth and down my chin.
The thought of Sam coming in my mouth was so hot that I came untouched. As his cock softened he pulled himself out of my mouth while I was still caught in the throes of my mind-blowing orgasm.
He watched me, a look of awe and reverence on his face. Therewas nowhere to hide. The fact that I had come untouched made me feel particularly vulnerable, but also secretly happy. I wanted him to know what a chokehold he had on me.
When my balls finally finished emptying, I looked down to see I had painted his abs and thighs with stripes of my cum.
For a long moment neither of us moved or said anything. As my breathing started slowing back down, my hearing returned. The sounds of the island rushed back in — the distant thunderous crack of icebergs, the chatter of the penguins. All of it, as if I was surfacing after being underwater for too long.
I saw the same change reflected in his eyes as they slowly focused. He got to his feet and rooted around in our bags while I lay there loose-limbed, my mind empty of any thoughts.
He came back with a bag of wipes in his hand and without a single word he efficiently and carefully wiped down my mouth, my chin, my neck, my chest — everywhere that cum had landed.
Then he cleaned himself thoroughly. I watched him, not knowing what to say or do in that moment.
He wiped down the sleeping bag and then pulled his pants up. He examined a corner of the sleeping bag. Apparently it hadn’t survived the madness intact. We had managed to rip it open. Sam examined it thoughtfully, as if it was just any other day in the field. He was avoiding my eyes.
Finally, when he ran out of things to do, he grabbed his parka and unzipped the tent door. The rain had stopped.
I didn’t say anything. If he needed a moment, I could understand it. I just wished he wasn’t going to regret it. Because I sure didn’t.
8
Chapter 8
I woke with a slight headache, overheated inside the tent. I was about to ask Sam the time out of habit when I realized I was alone. I was wide awake instantly. How long had Sam been out there by himself?
I checked the time. Late morning. Seven o’clock — past my usual wake-up time, past my usual walk across to Sam’s building for our breakfast stroll. I changed into a fresh pair of clothes. What happened last night hung like a dark cloud over my thoughts.
It wasn’t exactly my fault. Sam was the one who had initiated it — asleep or not — and at any point he could have stopped me. It hadn’t felt like he didn’t know what was happening. But then he had run away, so I didn’t know what to make of it all.
I put the kettle on to boil water for coffee while I checked the data from the drone. But I wasn’t looking for penguins this morning. I brewed my coffee while I pulled up the camera reel on my rugged field laptop.
I drank my coffee and worked through an energy bar while I flipped through the feed on the laptop. I found Sam in the footage. I followed it reel by reel. Sam moving across the island, stopping sometimes, walking on. I tracked him forward through the timestamps, catching up to the present. The most recentframe had him sitting on a rocky outcrop at the far edge of the island, looking out at the ocean.
I checked the time. He had been sitting like that for an hour.
No matter whether Sam was mad at me or not, I needed to go talk to him. We had more data to collect. We needed to figure out what to do with the sleeping bag situation — it had ripped and needed dealing with. And Sam needed to eat and drink something.
I loaded my backpack with fresh supplies, the laptop, and everything else needed for a day of work. I closed the tent zip carefully behind me and set off in the direction Sam had been sitting.
The sky was overcast and every single inch of the island was dripping wet. The temperature had dropped even further overnight. I wondered what was going through Sam’s mind. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t see where I was stepping. The entire island was covered in a slushy combination of penguin urine and disgusting things I didn’t want to think about.
I slipped on the slimy surface and went down hard.
