“Nope, my view is just fine,” he says.
The view really isn’t great. Trees are a little in the way of the sky, but when I turn to see him, he isn’t looking at the sky at all. He is looking at me. Grabbing his leg, I pull him closer to me until our bodies are touching. Sliding my hand to his cheek and toward the back of his neck, I pull his face into mine, kissing him. The lights from the fireworks illuminate us and it gives me the perfect view of him, shadowed a little, but still enough.
I want to keep this moment in my brain forever. Engrained.
Our kiss deepens and his hands trail up and down my body, like he can’t tell where he wants them, but puts them everywhere. I pull away for a moment, looking to see if anyone is watching us, but they aren’t.
I accept it, deepening the kiss and laying us back on the ground on top of the blanket we are sitting on.
“Mm, we can’t do anything right here,” Clayton mumbles against my lips.
“Sure we can,” I say, moving my hand down his body. Slipping into his shorts and boxers, I grip his cock.
Leaning over the top of him, I put my ear above his mouth and listen to the pants he lets out as a jerk him.
“Someone could see,” he pants.
“I’m watching. Just relax, pretty boy,” I soothe.
I work him to the edge of climax, listening to each sound he makes, each puff of my name. Just as his back arches and I know he’s about to finish, I let go, taking it away from him.
“What the fuck, Max,” he cries. “I was about to cum.”
“I know,” I smirk.
His parents and my friends are so focused on the fireworks, the booming echoes still happening. I decide that this moment is the time that I’m going to face my fears. Moving down his body, kissing alonghis torso outside of his shirt, I pull his cock out just enough for me to slip it into my mouth with confidence.
“Max, you don’t have to,” he whispers.
Instead of answering to tell him that Iwantto, I flatten my tongue and take him deeper. When he hits the back of my throat, his cock twitches in my mouth. Clayton’s hands move to my head, fingers entwining with the strands of my hair.
His hips jerk involuntarily.
I lick and suck at him, moving up and down his cock. Taking a peak at him, I see that his lip is drawn between his teeth, eyes closed. I know that he’s trying not to finish. He was already so close. Pushing my head all the way down, taking his full length and letting him hit the back of my throat, I pull back up and jerk him again.
He moves his hips up and down, fucking my fist as he chases the climax.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Max. I’m gonna-” his words are quiet and strained as he tries not to make a noise. He’s so afraid of someone catching us, but the thought of anyone walking over here at no notice has my dick rock hard in my shorts.
Clayton comes in my hand. It’s warm and sticky. He leans his head back, mouth open and trying to catch his breath. He tucks himself back into his shorts quickly.
I use the blanket as a towel, wiping my hand clean, but there is a stickiness left behind.
Before I can get up to fix that, as if right on time, my friends come barreling toward us, tackling me down to the ground.
“What the fuck are you two doing over here? Sleeping?” Mav shouts, but as he gets seated on the ground, I watch as his hand goes right where I wiped the cum off mine.
“Ah, fuck. What is that? Why is the blanket sticky?”
Clayton looks at me. I look at him. Mav looks at me and then at Clayton.
“Oh, don’t even fucking tell me,” Mav grimaces.
Dax laughs, loud and deep from his chest. “Oh this is fucking good!”
“I need bleach. An entire bottle. I have to soak my hand for the rest of my life,” Mav exaggerates.
“I think soap and water should be fine,” Clayton jests.
