He grabbed my chest, a fistful of muscle, and squeezed. His other hand left my hair and punched my pec, testing my strength. I flexed, and he punched again.
A moan slipped past his lips into my mouth.
“God, you’re so fucking strong. I love it.”
My knees threatened to sink me right there.
Wes’s hand trailed lower, teasing thick hair that coated my chest and stomach. He didn’t stop when he reached my shorts, snapping the button free and slipping inside.
“No underwear?” he breathed. I could feel his smile against my lips. “So daring, mister concrete and mortar.”
I started to respond, but his fingers brushed the tip of my head, and I lost all ability to think. In a heartbeat, my zipper had slipped, and my cock was firmly in his grasp.
One stroke.
Two.
My lips jerked away from his as my head fell back.
“Like that, do you?”
“God, yes,” I called to the open sky.
Another stroke.
“I want to feel you, Mark, all of you.”
I nearly came at those words.
Instead, I locked my gaze onto his, reached down, and gripped the top of his tighty-whities. “You don’t need these, not here, not in our cove.”
He shimmied as I lowered the cloth, then tossed the undies to the shore.
“Your turn.” He grinned.
I didn’t wait for him to deconstruct my shorts and underwear. I grabbed them roughly and danced my way free, tossing them in the same high arc his whites had just traveled.
Our cocks found each other, and the fireworks they lit nearly sent me over the edge for a second time. Just standing there in beautifully warm water, pressed naked against this man, I nearly lost myself.
“God, you feel good, Mark.”
“Keep kissing me, Wes. Don’t stop, please.”
He grinned into my mouth again and said, “I like it when you beg.”
How long we kissed, hard and pressed together in the warmth of the cove, I’ll never know; but at some point, my fingers pruned. We made our way back onto land. There were no towels or blankets or anything intelligent men would’ve brought for a rendezvous, so I carefully lifted Wes and set him on a smooth boulder.
“Just put me anywhere,” he teased.
My tongue racing across his shaft shut him up . . . well . . . except for his grunts and groans. Those made me lap him up faster and harder and deeper than I ever thought possible. I couldn’t get enough of him in me. I couldn’t drink his skin fast enough.
My mouth tightened around him as precum salted my tongue.
“You taste so good, Wes. Give it all to me, baby.”
His fingers digging into my hair was his only reply.
So I sucked and licked and gripped his balls, forcing his cock to stiffen to its greatest length, forcing his most sensitive places to tingle and stretch.
