INTERLUDE II
Page 8
Leslie chuckled and finished his bourbon. Standing, he pushed his shorts off his hips and along the length of his legs. Stepping out of the garments bunched at his ankles, he strode around the corner of the desk to where Sean stood, an impressive hard cock bobbing at his crotch.
They came together as if they were lovers—quickly, hotly, each grasping the other’s hard prick.
Leslie released a long sigh at the feel of Sean’s hand curling around his hot flesh and his own hand felt invigorated by the hard staff he held in his own palm. He gazed down at it, tracing its length with his eyes. It was beautiful—long, engorged with man juice—
“I haven’t ass-fucked in a long time,” Leslie admitted, stroking Sean’s cock. He brought his gaze up to Sean’s face. “Turn around. I’m so hard my balls are beginning to ache.”
Sean turned his back to Leslie and bent over, spreading his ass cheeks with his hands. “Wet me first. And go slow.”
“If I can,” Leslie promised, grasping his cock in his right hand and aiming its head at Sean’s round orifice. He pushed in slowly, trying to control his urges. He savored the heat of him, the tightness. None of the women he usually bedded were tight around his prick—having been fucked so many times. But they were willing to please him—and that was the important thing. He made a mental note to ass-fuck them in the future. He smiled as he began to work his prick inside Sean’s tight butt.
They rocked back and forth, Leslie trying to control his urge to lunge in deep and hammer the hell out of his asshole. Sean groaned and panted. Leslie knew he had his hand on his prick, jacking himself off, and he supposed he should put his hand between his legs and help him out—but he had his own pleasure to consider.
He increased his speed as orgasm bore down on his body. He pulled in deep breath and braced his feet further apart. The urge to let loose was too strong to over look. He gave into the battery of emotions fueling his actions and drove his cock deeper into Sean’s asshole, drawing a yelp of surprise—or pain—from the accountant.
Leslie dug his nails into Sean’s soft buttocks, holding him steady while he brought the orgasm home. He bellowed his release and ground his crotch against Sean’s ass cheeks, milking his cock.
He pushed Sean away. Sweat ran in rivulets down the length of his body. His cock was limp in his crotch. He panted, his chest rising and falling with his hurried breaths.
Sean turned to face him. His cheeks were ruddy. He placed his hands on his hips. His cock was hard and bobbing in his crotch. Leslie stared at him. He was beautiful. His cock was magnificent to behold. He felt very aroused just gazing at his body. Suddenly he dropped to his knees in front of Sean.
“I have an incredible urge to such your dick.” He reached out and grasped Sean’s cock, opening his mouth as he guided its round head between his lips.
The feel of him was wonderful along his tongue. He closed his eyes and let the enjoyment race through his insides. His fist held him securely at the base of his hairy balls. Leslie raised his other hand and stroked the round orbs, making Sean moan and open his legs wider to accommodate Leslie’s hand. He moved his hips gently against Leslie’s mouth.
He could teach me things.
Sean’s unhurried pace intrigued Leslie. He moved his hips slowly, seductively, moving his prick gently inside Leslie’s mouth, sliding it erotically across his tongue and inching to the back of his throat. Leslie closed his eyes and allowed Sean to set the rhythm for the act, feeling arousal gathering tighter and tighter inside his body. His prick began to rise in his crotch. He felt his body heat up, his pulse increase in tempo.
“I’m sure glad I came up here to check on you.”
Leslie opened his eyes and looked up at Sean. He smiled softly around the mouthful of cock he sucked on. They had just given new meaning to the term ‘casual Friday.’
THE END
About the Author
I’m a person of many interests. I’m a weekend explorer. I love to poke around in caves and look for artifacts. I’m a frequent visitor to the track—horseracing, when in season. I’m a small bucks investor, dabbling in real estate. I savor fine wine, love to relax in front of the fireplace, and I’m still in love with my mate—perhaps my greatest accomplishment. And erotica…ah…erotica. Is there any other form of writing that allows one to fully express one’s true emotions? Not as far as I know. I’ve read erotica since high school—when it was taboo to speak of Henry Miller. And I’m most free when I sit down at my computer and pen a short erotic story. Erotica makes my juices flow—and I hope some of my stories primes your pump as well. Feel free to email me—I’d love to hear from you. stonerichards@prodigy.net