by BA Tortuga
The bit of flesh went hard so fast, still a little red from their play the last couple of days. Max had the prettiest nipples. “Uhn. ’Kay. You ever do that, though?”
“Do what? Get beaten-beaten? No. No, people get hurt. But I’ve been spanked, paddled, flogged once….”
“Yeah?” Max sounded a little breathless, looked a little worried and a lot turned on. “Is it… did you like it?”
He nodded, then shrugged. He’d had all sorts of experiences; some could still give him wet dreams, some? Eh. “I guess it really depends on who’s doing it and why, yeah? It can be sort of weird, it can be scary, it can be mind-blowing.”
He got a long look, then a nod. “Yeah. I’ve known some guys… the things they wanted to do made me sorta back away like a pissed-off bull fixin’ to charge. You just make me curious, sugar.”
He got another piece of meat, fed it to Max. It didn’t surprise him, really. Lots of people were working out their neuroses on their lovers. He was just into feeling. Fucking. “Yeah? I bet you’re sort of sexy all flushed and pissy.”
“Pissy.” Max just laughed, chewing and swallowing before kissing him. Mmm, spicy. “I don’t think Ed thought so. I clocked him one.”
“Ow. What did he want you to do?” There were two little U-shaped spots by Max’s chin that didn’t have any hair, and he licked one. Too neat.
“Let’s just say he had this whole scenario in mind, and he invited an audience. I didn’t trust him for nothing, and no way was I playing that game.” The mouth twist was back, this time a little cynical. Max was petting his back absently, every so often touching the top of his ass, dipping into his pants.
Oh, the cynical? Not as happy, so he kissed until it eased. “I don’t mind an audience, but only if I’m performing. Performing and fucking? Hard for me to do together. I get… busy feeling, yeah? Whose question is it?”
“Yours, sugar.” That was more like it, that happy-eyed look. Max popped a piece of that orange fruit thing, licking his lips slow and easy to catch juice.
“Mmm…,” he purred, the scent of the fruit sharp and tart. “What do you want to do that you never told anybody you wanted?”
“What, in general?” Frowning, Max petted him, pulling him just a little closer.
“Whatever. In general. Sexually. Workedly. Whatever.” He just wanted to know about Max.
And snuggle.
Well, more than snuggle.
“That’s big. I mean… well. Sexually, I’ve got what I want. Just someone who wants me. You fit the bill, sugar.” Max kissed him, and he thought for a minute he’d have to come up with the something icky he threatened for nonanswers, but Max finally went on. “I think maybe… now mind, I like the money. But I think for a long while I’ve wanted to just go back to working, playing. Not having the responsibility of all the problems old money brings. Does that sound wrong?”
“Nope. All work and no play makes men like my father.” He met Max’s eyes, saw himself in them, dark-eyed and serious. “It’d be stupid and tacky to say money isn’t everything when I have so much, but….”
“Yeah. It makes some trouble.” Another fruit-sticky kiss landed on his mouth. “I probably wouldn’t bitch ’cept for old Morrie’s folks? Trouble in all caps.”
“Relatives are like that. Creepy and vulture-y.” He rubbed their noses together. “Good thing we’re not family.”
“Yeah. That would be kinda gross. Where’s the weirdest place you’ve had sex?”
“Hmm…. Weird… In a giant fish tank pretending to be a merman.” He gave Max a sheepish grin. “I was young.”
“Yeah? Sounds kinda floaty.” The wide chest under him rumbled and shook, Max just laughing at him.
“It was stinky and a little uncomfortable. You have any idea how much rubber’s in a merman suit?”
Not to mention the sweating and chafing.
“I can imagine. I’ve spent my share of time in a wetsuit. Never wanted to fuck in one, though.” They shared more tidbits, just lazy and good, Max kissing him, stroking him, letting it build slow between them.
“What’s the most orgasms you’ve had in twenty-four hours?” He hadn’t been so happy in years.
The answer was immediate, laughter in that voice. “Yesterday. What was it? Five? I swear to goodness, sugar, you dehydrated me. Wore me out.”
He reached down, cupped those heavy balls. “I kissed them and made them better, didn’t I?”
“Oh.” Thick thighs fell apart, Max opening for him, giving him access. “You did. Never felt anything so good.”
“You taste fine, smell so good.” He kept touching, stroking, just humming with pleasure. “Your turn, cowboy.”
“Hmmnnn? Oh. Right.” Max’s cock rose against his wrist, hard, thin skin flushing dark. “Uh. How does it feel to get pierced?”
“Stings. The tongue? Not sexy. The nipples? A lover did those, and I came.”
“Oh. I bet. Those clamps…. What about the other one?” Max sorta hoisted him, pressing down between his legs from behind, rubbing his guiche.
“I…. Asim had it done the first time. It was intense, you know? I guess I was more than a little high—I was real young and didn’t know what was coming out of those censers.” He smiled, shook his head. “It was taken out in the hospital, and I had it redone years later. Sober. For me, you know? To be something to make me feel good.”
“I like it. Can you tell?” Oh yeah, he could tell. Max played with the thing like no one else ever had, just so not afraid to drive him crazy with it.
He chuckled, nodded. “Yes. I have a serious thing for how you like it.”
Morgan reached down, worked Max’s fly open, fingers carding through dark curls. “How long have you shaved your head?”
“Maybe five, six years? It just got so damned bald.” Arching up, Max gave him room to work, fingers pulling at his own clothes at the same time.
“It’s sexy. I want to shave it sometime.” He’d gotten to watch once or twice.
A deep rumble sounded, Max nodding. “Yeah. That’d be. Yeah.” They finally got all the way naked, and Max turned them on their sides so they could both touch.
“Oh….” They fit together so well, legs sliding together, bellies snuggled. He took one kiss after another, feeling almost as drunk as the night with the wine.
“Yeah. Hell, yeah.” So big and rough skinned, but Max’s hands were so gentle, so good on his ass, his thighs.
“You have amazing hands.” He shivered, nipples tightening as his rings rubbed against Max’s skin. “I want to just touch and taste and feel forever.”
“Okay.” Max bent, licked his throat, bit down a little. “I’m all for it, sugar.”
“Okay, cowboy. We’ve got a plan.”
And enough sexy fruit, magic ink, and rice to last at least that long.
Chapter Five
THEY CAMPED. Max was thrilled at how Morgan just took to everything. Oh, the man had some peculiar ideas about what camping was supposed to be like, dragging along little monkey statues and silk pillows and such, but Morgan was so damned enthusiastic about everything that Max just laughed at some of the more outlandish stuff.
It couldn’t have been better for Max. They hiked. They rockhounded. They made love beside a mountain stream and trekked through jungle. They hit a lot more than Peru, but that was where they were ending up, and Max had a surprise for Morgan when they finished the four-hour train ride and the twisty bus ride and got to Machu Picchu.
At one of their stops for provisions, Max had hooked up and got ahold of the Sanctuary Lodge up at the summit to book them a room. After weeks of camping out? They were gonna have a bed and a shower and a gourmet meal.
He couldn’t wait.
They got on the bus that would take them to the top, and Max grinned, sitting way closer to Morgan than he should. “You’re gonna love this view, sugar.”
Morgan laughed, the pale skin tanned, the habit of wearing his contacts left behind days ago. Morgan looked happy,
healthy. Edible. “I’ve loved everything we’ve done so far, cowboy.”
“Good. Because I’ve been having the time of my life.” He had. Just, damn. He slid one hand over on Max’s thigh, squeezing a little as the bus lurched into motion.
Those dark eyes laughed, and shit, he hadn’t ever had such a ball. Everything enthused Morgan; everything was an adventure, a game, something exciting. “Are there going to be llamas?”
“There will. We’ll take pictures.” Oh, that’d be funny as anything, Morgan and llamas.
“Cool. We should get serapes, and you need a black hat.” Morgan nodded, as if that was that.
Hell, who knew? Maybe for Morgan it was. He wanted to kiss Morgan. Bad. “Figure it will be gettin’ on late when we get there. We’ll camp tonight and tour tomorrow.”
“Oooh… more sleeping bag adventures! Do I get to try to make you scream?” Wicked, rotten bastard.
“You can try.” No fucking way. Not even if the hotel was empty.
“I do pretty good.” Morgan stuck out that pierced tongue, waggled it.
“Sugar, you do it better than anyone ever has.” That was the God’s honest truth. Morgan did things to him that no one else had even thought of. He loved it.
Oh-ho. That got him a blush, a grin, a look in those eyes that promised a world of gratitude.
He squeezed Morgan’s thigh again, then distracted both of them with the view that was opening up right outside of the window. “Check it out, sugar. We’re really climbing.”
“Oh wow.” Morgan leaned over him, eyes wide. “We’re like airplane high.”
“Fantastic, huh?” The view was like nowhere else. He copped a feel while Morgan was stretched over him.
“Uh-huh.” Morgan wiggled, little ass a huge temptation. “There’s clouds, Max! Below us!”
God, he adored that. He just did. The ass too, but mainly the sheer lust for life, for new experiences. The ass overcame his good sense, though, and he patted it. “Yeah. S’fucking cool.”
“Yes!” He got a look, a smile, one of his hands squeezed tight. “Thank you. Thank you, cowboy.”
“You are most welcome, sugar.” He held Morgan’s hand, grinning huge. God, wait until Morgan saw the ruins.
Morgan settled, watched avidly for the remaining fifteen minutes, oohing and aahing over every little thing.
The bus pulled right up at the top, and they stepped out to a perfect evening view of the ruins. Damn, the hotel was literally steps away. Hot damn. “Grab your bags. We? Are camping in style tonight.”
“Oh. Sweet.” Morgan’s eyes were dancing, voice awed. “Shower sex.”
“Oh yeah.” He probably ought to blush at that, especially since that nice German lady was looking at them funny. But he? Wanted Morgan. Like soon.
They had one of the two suites, the view of the Sacred Mountain seeming to fill the window. Morgan immediately gathered damn near everything they owned and called for the laundry, stripping down to skin.
Max just laughed, then left their clothes outside the door in the laundry bag. “Shower, Morgan. You owe me shower sex.”
“Oooh. Yes. Yes, I do. Lots of it. And then you’ll have to pay me back in desperate, mind-blowing orgasms.” Morgan bounced toward the bathroom. “I do love our barter system, cowboy.”
“You and me both.” Laughing was becoming a habit. He liked it. The shower was going when he got there, and Max stepped right in and reached for skin.
Morgan hummed, pressed against him, lips against his throat, Morgan breathing him in.
Damn. He soaked Morgan in too, the scent of them strong, heavy, and male.
“Gonna suck you off, cowboy. Then we’ll scrub.”
“Oh. God.” Max looked down, stroked his hands over Morgan’s wet hair. “Yeah. Please.”
“Yeah.” Morgan’s face buried into his pubes. “Oh, Max. Good.”
Hell yes, it was good. Went beyond good. Morgan was slick with water, skin hot and smooth under it, and that cheek and mouth against Max’s cock made him jerk, moan.
Morgan’s tongue stud pressed along his shaft, then nudged the slit of his prick, making him jerk.
“Morgan. Oh.” Fuck, that piercing. All of them. Made him crazy. He spread, planted his feet on the slick tile. “Yeah, right there.”
Morgan’s fingers wrapped around his prick, holding him steady, fucking his cock with the smooth stud.
He groaned and jerked and tried to thrust, but all he could do was stand there and take it. Just like that. God.
Morgan found a rhythm—fingers and tongue working him, not teasing, not playing, just pushing him.
The shower sounded unbelievably loud, but that was good because it drowned out his breathless noises. The altitude was making him light-headed, making everything seem more, bigger. Better. Morgan was just blowing him away.
Morgan reached up with one hand, wicked fingers sliding over a single dark mark before finding one of his nipples and tugging.
“Fuck!” God, he was so fast off the mark that he jerked, hips pumping, and just came. Right then and there, all over Morgan’s lips.
He loved the happy, hungry little sounds Morgan made, the way that tongue licked him clean. The press of Morgan’s body against his as Morgan stood and begged a kiss.
He took that kiss, and another and another. Damn. Yeah. He palmed Morgan’s cock, rubbing. His knees were just weak.
“Oh.” Morgan’s eyes rolled, head falling back. “Uh-huh. Need.”
Encouraging Morgan closer, he bit the skin over Morgan’s collarbone, urging Morgan on.
“G… good….” Morgan’s hands landed on his shoulders, hips rocking furiously, cock heavy on his palm.
Oh, it could be even better. Max pushed Morgan up against the shower wall, bending to lick and bite at one tiny nipple ring.
The rush of words began, pleases and yeses and his name over and over, each time more needy than the last. Morgan arched into him, coming hard, ass slapping back against the tile, cry echoing.
The most amazing thing he’d ever seen was Morgan in his pleasure. Max watched, catching them both as they slid.
“Mmm…. Fucking love you and me in the shower, cowboy.” Those dark eyes were dazed, warm. “And in the sleeping bags. And the jungle. And the woods.”
“And occasionally in the bed.” They danced a little, shuffling upright and soaping each other, rinsing off just as the water went cold.
“Oh, face it, cowboy. I just love you.” Morgan leaned down, turned the water off.
That stopped him dead for a minute, made his heart pound. Then he grinned, felt it just stretch his cheeks it was so wide and goofy, and he yanked Morgan up to kiss the man silly.
Morgan’s fingers splayed over his scalp, lips opening right up.
Oh. So good. When they came up for air he just kept right on smiling. “Yeah. Yeah, Morgan.”
Morgan’s fingers traced his smile, then cupped his jaw. “Cool.”
“Wanna see if the bed is as good as it looks?”
“You know I do. There’s lots of it to explore.”
“And I can explore you all over again.” Mmm, yeah. He wanted to touch all over.
“Mmm….” Morgan stepped away, ass wiggling as he moved. “All yours.”
“You know it. I figure on keeping you.” He followed that ass, already recovering from their shower and starting to need.
Morgan crawled onto the mattress, hands and knees, little ring catching the light. “Oh, good. Come get me.”
Like he was going to say no to that? Damn. He hopped on the bed, reaching right out for that sweet ass, for the skin just beneath.
Morgan pushed right back into his touch, thighs spreading, just like that, so fucking wanton.
“God, sugar. You just make me… yeah.” Max wanted to say all sorts of things. Instead he pulled at Morgan’s ring, bent to bite one asscheek. Hard.
Morgan arched, fingers scrabbling on the sheets. “Oh. Oh fuck. Cowboy.”
“You like that, Morga
n? I do.” He did. He liked to see Morgan arching and moaning and begging him. The bruise that came up on Morgan’s ass shocked him, excited him.
“Feel you, Max. More. Make me feel you.” So husky, so low, that voice settled deep in his balls.
Max shivered, rubbed his cheek against the bruise he’d left, pulling at that little guiche. He moved then, spreading Morgan with his thumbs, licking that little hole with his tongue, unable to resist one more minute.
Morgan took a deep breath, asscheeks going tight for a second before pushing back against him.
Max went to town, licking, fucking Morgan with his tongue.
Morgan reached back, hand pumping that hard cock, low groans filling the air.
He helped, pressing against Morgan’s balls, moving faster, harder, really giving it to him. Damn, Morgan got to him so good.
“Fuck. Fuck. Max. Cowboy.” Morgan’s body went tight, toes curling as Morgan bucked.
Oh. Oh yeah. Max took it all in, the sight and scent and sound.
Morgan’s cry filled the air, the musk of come strong and sharp.
Max wanted. Bad. He rolled up, spit into his palm and got his prick wet, lining up with Morgan’s hole. “You ready, sugar?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Fuck me.” Morgan pressed back, taking him in.
Max groaned, feeling like he’d run a mile in ninety-degree heat. With a hundred percent humidity. He was panting, taking Morgan in short, sharp thrusts.
“Oh. Oh. Cowboy.” Morgan grunted, riding him. “Going… going to keep me hard.”
“That’s the idea, Morgan.” Hoo yeah, that was the idea. He steadied himself, reaching for Morgan’s cock, wanting to feel. They rocked together, Morgan like a furnace.
Morgan moved between his hand and cock, still hard, still hot for him.
All he could do was moan, pant, curse a little at how good it was. Always so good. About as far away from a midget clown as anyone could expect. The thought made him bite into Morgan’s shoulder to stifle a laugh, and they both jerked as Morgan tightened down.
“Fuck! Do it again.” Morgan tilted his head, panting.
“Mmm yeah.” Hell yeah. He found another sweet spot, just above Morgan’s nape, and bit. Fuck, yeah.