The Summer of Us

by Lily Morton

  He doesn’t shriek like a woman might. Instead he groans and pushes against me hard, grabbing my arse cheeks and rutting against me, and suddenly heat rushes right back in like a conflagration and the only thing that I can feel is the urgency and the need to put my dick inside him.

  He pulls back and grabs my hand, pulling me to the double lounger. “Here,” he says low. “In the night under that moon. I want to remember you fucking me here in the heat of a French night.”

  He lowers himself to sit putting him at my waist height, and I know what he’s going to do even before he grabs my hips pulling me toward his face and the hot, wet warmth of his mouth envelops my cock. I shout out, uncaring of who might hear me. “Matty, oh fuck Matt, so fucking good,” I groan as he takes me down quickly until I feel the back of his throat and the ripples and tugs like the tide as his throat works.

  I twist my shaking hands through his hair, holding him against me and feeling his hands lower to my arse cheeks to grip and guide me. For an eon all I can feel are the tormenting movements of his lips and all I can hear are the sounds of his grunts and moans and the wet slurping noises as if it’s the soundtrack of our night.

  The feeling grows in intensity until I pull away from him, wrenching myself from his mouth with a reluctant groan to stand over him panting as I grab the base of my cock to stop myself from coming. “So close,” I gasp. “Don’t want to come like this.”

  He smiles and pulls me down against him for another kiss and then bends low and grabs his shorts, reaching in to pull out two packets. He holds them up and I see a condom and what I think is a lube sachet. He opens the lube packet and I’m relieved to see that his hands are shaking as much as mine.

  He pours some of the liquid onto his fingers until they glisten in the moonlight and then lies back against the lounger, finding a cushion and bunching it under his hips so that as his legs part I can see everything. I lean closer staring ravenously at the hard length of his cock visibly pulsing against his belly button and down to the mounds of his balls drawn tight. His legs part wider and I gasp as he spreads them fully, arching up as if presenting himself to me and I look avidly at the dark line of his taint leading to the shadowy pucker between his cheeks.

  “Jesus Christ Johnny how you look at me,” he groans suddenly, grabbing the base of his cock. “It makes me feel wild.”

  He lifts up his fingers in a silent question. “Do it,” I say hoarsely. “Let me see,” and then I groan as he reaches down and inserts one long finger slowly inside himself. My mouth tastes coppery and my breath is thick as I watch it slowly being sucked inside. It’s the most erotic thing that I’ve ever seen and he throws his head back panting as he inserts another, and suddenly I don’t want to be a bystander anymore. I want to be a participant.

  I grab his fingers and pull them away and he looks startled and almost as if he thinks that I’ve changed my mind. “When I’m drawing up deeds, I do the work, not the client.”

  His body relaxes and then he snorts. “Did you just compare me to a dry, dusty document?” He pauses. “Or a client, because babe that’s dirty and hot?”

  I slap his hip. “Shut up and let me prep you.” I pause thinking hard and then say slowly and reluctantly. “You’ll have to tell me how to do it though.”

  Matt laughs. “Bet you fucking hated saying those words babe,” he says mockingly.

  I stare at him, at his gorgeous face full of heat and humour, and suddenly the air thickens. “Not you,” I say in a thick voice. “I don’t mind you showing me anything.”

  We stare at each other for a long second, and then something fierce and soft passes over his face making me almost want to turn away because nobody has ever looked at me like that. Then it vanishes and he draws me down into another kiss, and suddenly the heat that had ebbed through our conversation roars back, only bigger like a tsunami, and then we’re kissing with deep, open mouthed kisses fighting to get closer and closer.

  Finally we separate sharing our panting breaths between our mouths so close together, and I swallow hard as he squirts the viscous fluid onto my fingers watching me closely all the time. I wriggle them slightly. It’s thicker than I expected and then I swallow hard and reach down.

  I cup his balls gently, rolling them in my hands and he arches up groaning as if he’s been electrocuted. I reach down and kiss him, forcing my tongue into his mouth as I trace back pressing firmly on his taint and hearing and feeling his groan in my mouth. Then I can’t wait any longer and I press my finger against the tight pucker. I pause there. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I say hoarsely, and he cups the back of my skull tenderly.

  “Don’t force it in. Do it gently, but John you won’t hurt me. Do it,” and before I can think anymore I press my finger, wriggling it slightly against the pucker until it vanishes inside and I gasp.

  “Oh Matt it’s so fucking tight.”

  “Yes,” he pants, his teeth bared. “All the way in now,” and I push smoothly, eased by the lube until I’m knuckle deep. The walls feel blisteringly hot and spongy and the whole thing is so hot and dirty and real that I almost can’t bear it.

  “Another one,” he gasps and obeying him I push the second finger in. Jesus it’s tight and this is only two fingers. What’s it going to be like with my dick in there? I press the heel of my other hand against my neglected erection which is pulsing hard at the thought.

  Matt is panting and groaning his head arched back, mouth open and eyes unseeing, and before he can tell me I slide the third digit in. “Yes! Now scissor them,” he groans. “You’re opening me up and getting me ready.”

  I do as he says, becoming more confident every second as he writhes against me riding my fingers and I feel his passage opening. I curl them slightly and stop open mouthed as his whole body goes rigid in a tight arc towards the moon, a choked scream on his lips. “Right fucking there,” he shouts, and I realise that I must have pegged his prostate. I’ve heard of this and for a second I almost feel envious of how it obviously feels. I imagine him doing this to me and now it seems not only possible but eminently desirable.

  He wriggles his hips away until my fingers fall free and for a second he lies still, eyes tightly closed and his engorged dick held in a restraining grip. He’s clearly fighting for control and I feel proud that I did this to him. Then his eyes open. “So good,” he says hoarsely, pulling me into a deep kiss. He pulls back. “You need to fuck me now. I’m so bloody close.”

  I nod feverishly, coming up on my knees between his spread legs as he rips open the condom packet and then quickly slides a condom onto me. He dribbles more lube onto his hand and then it’s my turn to groan as his hand grabs me firmly, stroking and caressing as he spreads the lube over me until my sheathed cock looks almost wet.

  Then he lies back. “How do you want me?” he asks low. “On my hands and knees or -?”

  “Like this,” I say quickly, my voice so thick it’s almost unrecognisable. “I want to see your face.”

  Something like relief and happiness crosses his face and then he lies back gracefully, his whole body a study in the moonlight as he pushes the cushion further under his hips to make himself more accessible. “Are you sure?” he asks slowly.

  “Shut up,” I whisper, falling down against him, feeling the hair on his legs as he wraps them slowly round me, enclosing me as I lean up on one arm grabbing my dick and positioning it against his hole. “Stop trying to second guess me. I need to be inside you.”

  He whispers my name and pulls my head forward setting my lips against his as the tip of my cock slides into his hole slightly. We kiss as I slide forward in small movements, trying to be gentle but it’s so tight that it’s like a velvet boa constrictor around my dick. For a second I pause as I come up against the tight muscle that guards the entrance, but I push steadily and then there’s a pop and he throws his head back gasping as I feel the muscle suddenly give way and I slide all the way home.

  “Wait,” he pants out, putting a restraining hand on my thig
h. “Give me a second.”

  “Am I hurting you?” I gasp, and he shakes his head frantically.

  “It just feels so full. Fuck Johnny, you’re big.”

  Incredibly I find my mouth quirking. “Bet you say that to all the boys.” He huffs out a laugh which feels fucking incredible while I’m inside him. We lie together joined and soon I’m kissing him deeply and wetly until he moans.

  “Okay, I’m okay. You need to fuck me John because I’m really fucking close already.”

  I don’t even stop to think what to do now. Instinct from somewhere deep inside me tells me to pull out until I nearly leave his body and then tunnel back in. He moans loudly and I throw my head back gasping for breath. “Fuck Matt, you’re so tight and hot. I’ve never felt anything like this. It’s fucking unbelievable.”

  He grabs my hips tightly, pushing himself against me until I’m up to my root in him and I feel my balls bang against his ass. “Yes,” he hisses. “Fuck me so hard Johnny. Do me.”

  I hover over him, my muscles burning and sweat dripping onto my arms as I look down and see my cock appear and disappear inside him, and the feeling and visual is so fucking good that need and want burn under my skin. Then I’m hammering into him hearing him grunt and moan, his hands sliding against the slick skin of my back and his heels drumming on my arse.

  I lean back and change the angle and he gives that frantic shout again. “Yes there baby, right there. Oh fuck do it again.” I rotate my hips rubbing against the spongy knot that I can feel inside his passage and suddenly we’re both on the edge, climax shimmering on the horizon.

  “Matty,” I groan low, my voice wrecked. “I can’t wait.”

  “Johnny,” he shouts out. “Fuck I’m coming,” and as I watch his cock pulses, white spurts arcing out and covering his chest and landing against me, blisteringly hot as they hit me. I watch his prick throb wetly into the empty air as he empties himself, and the visual is so hot and fucking dirty that I feel the pulse of electricity shoot down the base of my spine and into my balls. I cry out riding him helplessly as I shoot into the condom, filling it with spurt after spurt until I’m empty and I sag against him as everything falls quiet apart from the frantic rhythm of our breaths.

  Eventually I feel myself soften and I grab the base of the condom as I start to slip out of him, tying it up quickly and slinging it into a nearby bin. Then his hands are on me again drawing me close to him, his arms and legs circling me while my hand plays with his hair.

  “Was it good?” he asks in a low voice.

  I nestle closer. “If it had been any better I’d be dead. Jesus Matty is it always like that because I don’t know why the whole world isn’t gay if that’s the case?”

  He stiffens slightly. “No it’s not always like that,” he says in a low voice.

  We lie there for a while, a sated jumble of arms and legs with spunk and sweat gluing us together, until suddenly he chuckles. “What?” I ask.

  “I’m just not a very fit gay mentor. I meant to do this in a bed the way I intended last night, and instead so far I’ve humped you against a wall and made you fuck me on a sun lounger.”

  “You’re right, you’re not exactly my Obi-Wan Kenobi of the gay world.”

  “And yet the force is strong with this one,” he says in a dramatic voice.

  “Nice Star Wars reference but don’t get cocky kid,” I reply in my best Han Solo impression and he laughs loudly.

  “I can’t help it, I have got a very nice light sabre,” he manages to get out before subsiding into a fit of the giggles.

  “Bragging you are,” I say which makes him laugh harder until we’re practically holding each other up. We lie clutching each other completely naked on a sun lounger, stuck to each other and probably the cushion in the middle of the night. I have never felt so happy.

  Chapter 11

  Song: ‘Not Enough Time’ by INXS

  One month later

  John

  A month later I’m on the treadmill in my gym. The television is on and showing Sky News but I can’t concentrate on that. Instead I’m staring out of the large window that looks out onto the pool. I’m running and thinking and I’ve been doing that for the last hour.

  The last month has been amazingly strange. Amazing because I’ve never felt so close to one person - wanting to know everything about them, wanting to be with them. Strange because it’s a man.

  We’ve done a lot of things together. I took him kayaking in Antibes and kitesurfing, and in return he took me cliff diving. We ate out nearly every night and when we returned home we came together in my room, passion burning hot, needing to touch and grip and thrust.

  The sex is like nothing that I’ve ever experienced before. It’s primal and urgent, but also tender and caring with moments of hilarity. It leaves me bewildered because everything in me says that this is something more, something outside of each other’s experiences before, but Matt resolutely insists that this is just casual sex and something to while away the time. A space for me to experiment and find out what I like and then we’ll go back to real life and be friends.

  This utterly confuses me but what do I know? He’s always been gay and this is my first proper experience outside the adolescent fumblings at boarding school so I bow to his superior knowledge. I suppose a tiny part of me is also glad to hear him say that because if this is nothing then I don’t have to think too hard about anything. I can just be me for the first time in my life.

  It’s been a revelation in another way, in that I’d always thought that if I got intensely involved with someone then my thought processes and work ethic would stutter. Part of me has always felt that no matter how hard a worker I am or how many billable hours that I generate, they don’t matter because inside me is still the daydreamer waiting to get free.

  With Matt however it’s not proven true. When we’re together at night I’m with him and totally absorbed in him, but during the day while he’s at work I’m enervated and more focused than I’ve ever been. The writing has flowed smoothly and I’ve written more productively than ever, to the extent that I’ll be finished way before my deadline. I only have the summary to complete and then it’s the boring nit picking work of footnotes and glossary.

  The sound of the door opening distracts me from my thoughts as the object of them appears. He’s dressed in orange shorts and a grey t-shirt and he looks clean and polished, totally unlike any other day. I stop the treadmill, allowing it to wind down as I grin at him. “How’s it looking?”

  He smiles widely. “It looks great. Everything’s finished outside so Charlie can bring Mabe out for their anniversary and she’ll see it properly. The only things left to do are the interior decoration, choosing the kitchen and bathrooms and they can decide between the two of them on what the terrace should look like. Charlie’s really pleased and the contractors will be as well because he’s giving them an early completion bonus.”

  “Have you brought him back with you?”

  He shakes his head. “No, he’s got an interview scheduled for this evening so he said to say hello and he’ll give you a ring tomorrow.” He stares at me where I stand on the treadmill. “You look hot.”

  I look down at the sweat running down my naked torso. “I’ve been running for an hour. You’d be hot too.”

  He smiles and then strides over to me, reaching up to trace a hand over my torso and tracking a bead of sweat as it rolls down. “No I mean you look hot.” His voice is low and focused and as I catch his meaning my cock stirs unmistakably against my loose athletic shorts, trained as it is now to respond to his cues. He catches it, of course he does, and his face turns lusty, his eyelids lowered and heavy with need.

  “You don’t mind the sweat?” I ask, my voice low. Bella had always hated it, not even allowing me to kiss her until I’d showered. Even after sex she’d jump straight up to shower. Matt however is, as normal, the exception to the rule as holding my gaze he leans forward and licks a broad swathe up my chest before stopp
ing at my nipples. He draws one into his mouth suckling with a sharp edge of his teeth, something that we’d discovered lights me up like the national grid. I grunt as a lightning bolt of pleasure sweeps down my spine centering in my cock, the head of which is now showing above the elastic waistband of my shorts.

  I stare down at him from the treadmill, at the messy blonde waves of his hair, the tanned lean strength of his body and the big hands with their long fingers that have explored every inch of my body, and suddenly an image of what I want to do to him comes into my head making me moan involuntarily.

  He sucks harder and I know that if I leave it any longer he’ll be on me and in the driving seat, so I gather the strength and grab his hair lightly, lifting his face up to see him. I breathe in sharply because he looks gone, red flags across his cheekbones, mouth red and wet. He opens his eyes and looks at me enquiringly. “Not me,” I say in a thick voice. “You.”

  He catches my meaning and hesitation crosses his face. We’ve done a lot together over this month in the goal of exploring my limits, and it turns out that I have very few with this man. We’ve watched porn and wanked each other off, played with toys and I’ve fucked him many times. I can’t get enough of him and I’ve enjoyed every second, but one of Matt’s limits seems to be his hesitation in making me do anything that might scare me off. He seems to have classed blow jobs in this category.

  He’s given them to me, that talented mouth sending me mad and thrashing, but although I’ve sucked and licked him before, I’ve always finished him off with my hand when he pushed me off. Part of me had been grateful as the idea of sucking a cock and having someone come in my mouth had made me nervous and I know that he realised that.