Spring Fling

by Claudia Burgoa

  The room whirls around us as he works me and I rub at him. Then his fingers close around my head, and my knees nearly buckle. I step back, away from his hand. In doing so, I’m forced to stop tracing his long erection. For a second, everything is blurry. I can’t breathe.

  Then I can’t stop looking at him. He’s undeniably attractive, but also rough around the edges, so unlike what I thought I preferred. It’s not just how he looks, either. I see concern flicker through his features. His gaze drops down to where I’m hard for him, and my blood roars in my ears.

  Vance steps closer. “It’s okay.” The words are quiet. “Sometimes it’s better with a stranger. And I’m clean. What about you?”

  I watch his hand as it smooths repeatedly over his cock, the tip of which is pointed upward, toward the hemline of his borrowed pants. He’s breathing heavy, just from what he’s doing to himself. He’s breathing heavy at the thought of what the two of us could do together.

  When he steps still closer, my eyes shut of their own accord. I stand still as he unbuttons my shorts—as if my inaction makes me blameless. Then he reaches inside, pulling the elastic of my briefs away from my abs, and I groan as his big, warm hand fists the tip of my cock. With his other hand, he reaches into his borrowed lounge pants and starts stroking himself.

  His hand grips my shaft. “Fuck. So big.” His lips are curved into a smirk. His nipples stand out through the cotton of the undershirt. His sea-blue eyes are lust-glazed.

  As he’s working me, I feel my balls draw up, my cock swell tighter, like I’m going to come right here and now. I move his hand off me, step back. I can’t help picking up where he left off, though—stroking myself.

  “I know you want it.” It’s a rough murmur.

  He walks me back against the fridge, rubbing his hips against mine as he rubs his stubble-sharpened cheek against my smooth one and leans down to kiss my throat. His mouth is hard. The kisses hurt. Shivers flicker over my skin. I can’t help a low groan.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” He kisses me under my jaw, but it’s more bite this time. Oh God, I can’t help myself. I go for his long erection, pushing his hand aside so I can stroke him. He takes his pants down as I do.

  Whoa. He’s perfect. Long and hard, with nice, taut balls and a plum head. He’s watching as I take him in. He grins. “You like that?”

  “Oh, yes.” His hands make quick work of my pants and underwear, pushing both down to my ankles so he can rub his cock against mine.

  I moan as my dick swells stiffer and my balls draw up. His free hand comes down below to cup them. He rolls gently, and I bark a groan.

  “I like these.” It’s a whisper. “There’s nothing better than a man with big balls.”

  His eyes hold mine. His gaze is blazing with desire. Seeing how much makes me want to bend him over here and now and have my way with him.

  Then his lips are pressed hard over mine, his tongue brushing into my mouth. We’re kissing, and it’s like nothing that I’ve felt before. His lips, his teeth, his body, his cock—all so hard. He pumps his hips so our shafts rub. His hand wraps around them both, pressing our tips together. I can’t stop groaning. I reach for his hair, pulling him closer, and he grunts as his hand tugs me.

  Our kisses grow more frantic, our hands more so. I feel like my body’s on fast-forward. My mind’s a fog. Dark pleasure gathers low down in my belly. I can feel his building, too, as his long sex thickens, swells and stiffens so it’s pointing straight up toward his navel.

  When I catch his eyes on my face, his mouth bent into a crooked smile, I drop down on my knees in front of him.

  “Grip the counter, Vance.” He leans over me and does just that…as I take him into my mouth. I run my tongue around the rim of him and feel his hips shift.

  “Oh yeah…”

  I tease his balls and suck more of his cock into my mouth. I take as much of him as I can, and I feel his strong legs tremble.

  “Oh God.” His hand grips my hair. I whirl my tongue around him, and he tugs. “Ohhhh fuck.” I suck a little harder, gliding my cheeks around him till he’s groaning loudly. I think of what I like—of what I would—and give him another steady suck, stroking his warm balls lightly as I run my tongue around his head, then take him even deeper.

  It’s a strange sensation, my throat so full I’m almost gagging, my salivating mouth melded around his cock. He’s hard and smooth at once. He feels so long—too long. Every time I take him deep, I have to swallow slowly. Still, tears of strain well in my eyes. Even as I struggle with him, my cock grows tighter, harder, heavier. I’m throbbing every time he does.

  I get into a rhythm with him, and I feel his knees quiver. His hand clutches my forehead as I swallow again slowly. I tighten my mouth around the base of him—or somewhere near the base; he’s so long, I don’t think I’ve got him all in my mouth—and he pulls = at my hair.

  “Ohhhh fuck.”

  You like that? The words are hums that prompt a guttural groan from him. And then I feel him swell. He’s groaning like he’s close to losing it, his hands pressing the back of my head. I tug air in through my nose and move my head back and forth, sucking and then pressing my lips snugly around him, flicking my tongue around his tip until his hands are fisted in my hair, and he’s moaning, “Jesus…fuck.”

  I suck still harder, flick my tongue around him till he’s half collapsing on me, and I think I taste him. I cup his balls as my own throb. He’s thrusting into my mouth now. Even though it hurts—tears leak from my eyes—I imagine his mouth sucking me, too, and I’m worried I’ll come before he does. That thought makes me groan, which makes my mouth vibrate against him. Vance barks out a sound of pain—although I know it’s pleasure.

  Then he tries to pull away. I swallow him back down.

  “Fuckkkkk.”

  He sags on me. Then his cock swells sharply, and I’m sucking as he blows in my mouth. When I’ve taken everything, I ease him to the floor, flicking my tongue around his tip before I lift my head and find his mouth is open.

  “Holy shit.” He pulls me up against him, kissing my mouth hungrily, speaking between the mash of our lips. “That was…fucking incredible. Best ever.”

  As his hand cups my heavy, swollen balls, and I groan, “Yeah.” He tugs, and I’m panting.

  “That’s right.” His rough fingertips trace the seam there in the middle of my sac. “That got you good and ready, didn’t it? It does me, too.”

  While he teases my balls, his other hand starts at my tip and strokes firmly up and down my shaft. I can’t help groaning. Grunting.

  “God…”

  “That’s right. My hands know how to work this cock.” His thumb tweaks something sensitive atop the tip of me that makes me jump. “You’re wet.” I feel him paint the slick precum along my rim. I squeeze my eyes shut, moaning. “One of my favorite things—when a big, strong man like you leaks for me.”

  I can’t even reply. I just groan.

  He growls softly in reply, and I can feel it in him: something snaps. He leans over, face-planting in my lap. He strokes my thighs and licks my sac and teases my cock with his tongue. My palm rubs his hair, my fingers shaking too badly to even tug as he sucks my tip into his hot mouth, swallows expertly until I’m lodged inside the velvet warmth of his throat.

  That’s when he starts sucking like a machine. He blows me like an assault. I’m on my back as my hips thrust upward, my spread legs tremble. Wrapped in his tongue, sucked into the thrall of his velvet hot mouth, my dick swells and my balls ache, and I can’t quiet the moans that come from my throat.

  The more control I lose, the more I start to pull at his hair; it’s the only punishment I can dole out.

  “Oh God…God.” Stop. But he takes me deeper, and I thrust twice—hard—before realizing what I’m doing.

  “Shit. Oh…ahhhh.” I writhe away from him. His mouth sucks harder as his hands squeeze my hips. And all at once, I blow.

  No warning.

  He
swallows slow and steady. My eyes open to find his on my face, and after that, I can’t stop watching. His mouth releases me just when it starts to feel too much, and he looks like he’s been through it. His lips are swollen, the skin around his mouth red. I stroke the redness, laughing.

  He leans forward to nip at my chin, press his soft, firm lips against my cheek. “That was amazing,” he rasps.

  “Thank you.” I try to swallow, find I can’t. My eyes are hot.

  He leans back on his haunches, revealing he’s hard again. He smiles a little, cups himself. My stomach tightens as my own cock twitches. Then he’s leaning back over to me.

  His lips brush over my temple. “You smell good.”

  He moves into a crouch, and I watch as he puts his clothes on. He hands me mine, stroking a fingertip over my abs before he stands.

  “Let’s have some of your scotch, yeah?”

  I put my underwear and pants back on. I get the bottle, and we walk onto the deck.

  * * *

  VANCE

  * * *

  The moon has gone behind some clouds, so when we step outside, it’s darker, cooler than it was before. He walks ahead of me, the bottle swinging from his fingers as he leads us to the vinyl-covered benches near the back of the boat.

  He sits at one end of the rearmost one. I eye the bench across from it, but I don’t want to put so much room between us. I sit by him, giving him a foot or two of space. His chest is pumping kind of fast. He clutches the bottle’s neck in his fist. His eyes rove me, but he’s quiet…wide-eyed.

  “You okay, my man?” His jaw is hard as his hand covers his eyes. He’s quiet for a moment. “You scared of gay stuff?”

  He shakes his head. I scoot close enough so I can drape an arm around his shoulders. Yeah…he’s breathing hard. I get a weird, tight feeling in my stomach as my hand squeezes his nape. “It’s okay.”

  He nods.

  “I wanted it. Did you?”

  He nods.

  “So we’re good, yeah?”

  He nods again, but he won’t look at me. I try to think of what I like to do after I fuck someone. “You got a cigarette?”

  He rubs a hand back through his hair, then, with his fingers bent around his brow so I can’t see his eyes, he shakes his head. “Got a joint, though.” His voice is rough and low.

  “Let’s have the joint.”

  He gets up and walks across the sitting area, opening a box shaped like a large cooler and then closing it. Then he comes and sits back by me—no closer, but no father than before—and I watch his hands as he lights it. The paper flares orange-red at the end as he inhales. Fuck, he’s sexy. His hard body is perfection, and that hair…I like the rust gold of it. Makes him look angelic. Like a tortured angel.

  He passes the joint to me, and I hit it, wondering if it’ll pump my dick up even more or have the opposite effect. I hold the smoke in my lungs…exhale slowly. Within a few seconds, I can feel my eyelids get a little heavier, the tension in my shoulders lessen. I give him a smile and a hoarse laugh.

  “I was wanting to do that since you fixed my head.”

  His eyes are dark, unreadable. He’s not looking at me, but from the side I think he looks a little dazed.

  “Where are you from? What’s your name?”

  I take one more hit and pass the joint to him. His eyes dodge mine as he takes it. When he doesn’t answer, my chest tightens.

  “Doesn’t matter. I don’t care. Just wanted to make you feel better.” After a second, I say, “If it bothers you—wanting dick—it’s probably not your fault.”

  I watch his stony face as he inhales. He looks like a Hollywood guy, I realize. He shuts his eyes, and I have to stop myself from leaning in and kissing his mouth. If he had a pussy, I’d do it. I fucking know he wants it. But when I’m with guys, I do things different. I try to take shit slower. Usually, at least.

  He hands me the joint. Our fingers brush. I catch his eyes. This time, his gaze stays on my face as I inhale. My cock’s half hard and growing as he watches me. My head spins pleasantly. I exhale and lean against the bench’s back. I keep the joint in my hand.

  “I’m from the city. New York. And I’m depraved. That’s why it doesn’t bother me. When I was younger—dumb as hell—we’d have these parties. Orgies.” I grin briefly, shaking my head. “Anyway, I liked it all. Wanted it all.”

  He offers nothing in return, and pulls his gaze down to the floor. I pass the joint to him again, and this time, I can tell he’s careful not to brush my fingers.

  His eyes shut on the inhale. When he’s ready to pass back, he holds it out for me without opening them.

  “I was engaged,” I tell him, taking it. “She broke things off. It was unexpected even though I guess maybe it shouldn’t have been. Anyway, she paid for this trip. Told me to go have fun. So I’ve been fucking my way through the Caymans. Mostly women. It’s a big risk with a guy, you know?”

  He holds his head…and then he’s breathing hard again.

  I scoot a little closer. “What can I do, man?”

  He shakes his head.

  Wait— “Are you married?”

  “No.” The word is hard.

  “Good.” I won’t be somebody’s dirty secret. Not even for a night. My mom was a mistress—my dad’s mistress. I saw what that shit did to her. “Your parents around?”

  After how tight-lipped he’s been, I don’t expect an answer, so I’m surprised when he rasps, “My mom.”

  My throat tightens just hearing the word. I press my lips together, and I see him look at me out of the corner of his eye. “I wish mine was.” I swallow. “She got cancer…three years ago.”

  He lifts his head, looking at me carefully for the first time since we sat down. “I’m sorry.”

  I’m surprised to find I can’t speak for a second.

  “Sorry,” he says again, quieter this time. He scoots slightly closer to me. I hand him the joint. He lights it again, then passes it to me without inhaling. I take a long drag. Lean my head against the back of the bench as I blow the smoke at the black sky.

  And then he’s kissing me. His lips are hard and firm, his hand in my hair grasping. He straddles my hips, settling on me carefully, rubbing himself against me. He wraps a hand behind my neck and brushes kisses over my forehead, traces his mouth down to my temple, holding my jaw as I open for him and his tongue glides inside.

  He reaches between my legs as we kiss, rubbing my erection.

  “Fuck…”

  I break into his shorts, grab his cock. I love it when my stroking makes his mouth falter on mine.

  I nibble at his jawline as his hand delves into my pants. He grips me like my cock is his possession, works me with an expert hand—and for a while we’re kissing, long and languid, as we pump each other harder, faster.

  When he breaks away, I’m throbbing. I brace myself for him to ghost, so I’m surprised when he sheds his pants and boxer-briefs instead. His erection springs up toward his navel. He makes quick work of my pants then, too, and runs his hand over my cock. Now his eyes are heavy-lidded. He leans down to kiss the tip.

  Then he’s half on top of me again, rubbing our rods together, smoothing slickness down my shaft. His or mine, I wonder dimly. With his free hand, he rolls my balls. Then he leans down, licks his way around my sac—I lift my knees around his shoulders—and he rims me.

  “Fuck.” I’ve never had anyone’s mouth there. I rock my hips as his tongue tries to press inside me. I tug his hair. I can feel him laving me in that spot, so I’m not surprised when the next thing he does is press his fingertip there. His other hand is working my shaft.

  “God…”

  When that insistent finger prods, I’m so fucking horny, I let it inside. Then I’m groaning, lifting my hips, and he’s stroking my cock. It’s fast and slick and feels so good…all I can do is grunt as his finger fills me deeper. I can feel the brash, electric pleasure as he grazes my prostate.

  “Ohhhh fuck...” I gasp as pleasure
blooms through me, moving outward from deep inside. My cock stiffens and my balls swell as his fingertip grazes that spot again, and I feel something building. I can’t help gasping, moaning… His hand teases my rim and I realize…I’m dripping.

  His finger’s pushing in and dragging out now. I can’t stop thrusting my hips. He’s jerking me so fast and steady.

  “That’s right. Feels like heaven, doesn’t it?”

  His hand curves around the head of my cock. He tugs on my tip like he’s milking me. I’m fucking his hand as his finger fucks my ass.

  I feel another violent rush of satisfaction as my balls grown warmer, fuller. My cock throbs. “I’m gonna come.”

  “Come for me. Right now.”

  Deep inside me, he does something magic. White light swells all through me, and I’m lost.

  * * *

  VANCE

  * * *

  When I come to, I feel every minute of the last two days in one breath. Waking up in that hammock, not sure where I was. Realizing I’d been left. Spending a day thirsty until I managed to get that rotten fucking coconut. Spotting his yacht anchored off the island as night fell. Gambling: should I swim out or should I wait? Feeling something bend the water near my feet as I kicked. Rushing up onto the yacht, only to get half knocked out, fall back into the water. And then seeing him: my nameless savior.

  When I come to, he’s standing over me. Where, before, he wouldn’t look at me, now his eyes are hot on mine. His erection juts out from his hips—waiting, I think. I look down at myself—pantsless, my cock still mostly hard, my bare skin tickled by a warm breeze—and I look back up at him.

  “Holy shit,” I rasp. I push up on my arms, and I see he’s smirking. “I thought you…”

  “What?”