Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 15599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 78(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 78(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
“Okay. Thanks.”
He winks, and my cock twitches.
Stop it. Just because I’m a horny fuck doesn’t mean my scotch-swilling host is. Hell, there’s a plus or minus 90 percent chance he’s straight as a ruler.
I do as he advised, climbing the short ladder, opening the hatch, and lifting myself up into a nook on the deck. I stand slowly, draped in shadows, and I realize that I’m right beside the mast. There’s a drain in the deck beside me, and hanging from a thick pole that’s clearly part of the sailing apparatus is a nozzle. A mesh soap bag dangles beside it.
I turn the removable showerhead on, pointing it at the drain till the water’s warm. Then I drop my swim trunks and exhale as I run a nice stream over my cock and balls. Damn, it feels good to get clean.
My cock’s had no attention since Pigtails. Guess it’s not surprising that I get hard the second the steamy spray hits my dick, tickling, then sluicing down my shaft and dripping off my head.
Ahh, fuck. I look around, but who the hell is watching? It’s just me out here, and a warm breeze, the sound of water lapping at the boat’s sides and a smattering of stars around the pearly moon. With my erection jutting out in front of me, I wash myself till I feel good and clean…then work some lather into my palm and stroke my stiff cock.
Shit. I squeeze my head and move down my shaft, then back up. My knees feel weak, so I wrap my free hand around one of the ropes hanging from the mast above me. Then I shut my eyes and jerk faster.
Oh fuck. I never go a day without this. My balls feel tight and full, like they’ve been shoring up their load. I can’t help it when I see his face behind my eyelids—those exotic-looking eyes, that kissable mouth. His rich-boy blond hair and that fucking demigod body.
As I pump my cock, I picture his: long and thick. A guy like that should be well-endowed…maybe with some nice low-hangers below. I imagine him in a chair, pants down, legs spread, with me kneeling before him.
I envision the look on his face if I wrapped my mouth around the tip of his cock and sucked…then rolled my tongue around and eased him deeper, one hand gripping his thick base, the other stroking his fat balls. I’d like to see him with his lips parted, his ripped chest heaving as he groans for me.
If he was mine, I would want his cock in my mouth all the time. I’d suck until those muscle-corded thighs quaked, till he lost control and started fucking my throat like a savage. I would tease him till he writhed and whimpered, and then I’d just stop. I’d straddle his lap and rub my aching dick against his.
Oh, yeah.
I would try to wrap my hand around us both, but of course, we’d be too thick. So I’d just rub my palm over our heads—especially his—and work him till I had him dripping.
With a sweep of my thumb over my own head, I grit my teeth and come hard into my palm. That’s when I open my eyes—and find him staring at me from across the deck.
* * *
Luke
I walk quickly toward the bow and back into the cabin, through the living space and down the long hall to the master suite, where I shut the door behind myself and lean against it.
Shit.
My heart is pounding and my pumped-up dick is throbbing to the rhythm of it. I wrap my hand around my hard-on and squeeze painfully, rubbing my thumb along the underside of my shaft. When that trick doesn’t work, I lock a fist around my balls and squeeze until gold spots swim in my eyes.
A ragged groan breaks from my chest.
God save me.
I just watched him shower in the moonlight. I saw every contour of his lean, hard body. I just watched him spill into his hand. The way he squeezed and stroked, that steady up and down…how he would rub his thumb over his tip, his balls bouncing below…
I look at where I’m fisting my cock, pumping slowly to the memory of it. I need to come. Right now.
As I squeeze myself, I imagine stroking his stiff sex until he comes like that in my hand. I picture Vance Rayne bent over in front of me, where I can rub my weeping cockhead up and down along the crack between his firm globes…
Then I’d part them, lube him till he’s bottom-fucking my hand, and shove my dick into his tight ass. He’d be velvet soft around me, grunting as I pounded him. On that vision, my balls throb and my shaft thumps in release. I’m panting like a runner as I sink into a crouch.