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.Jorge came after, stood next to him.Noticing each other looking, they'd smiled in concert.Then Alex touched Jorge, took his elegant hand in his earthy mitt and led him down to the water, the pier, the boat—Silently, they moved out onto the lake—the only sound the gentle slipping of the paddles into the water and the distant thumpa, thumpa, thumpa of David's endless disco.Then, the music faded.Silence wrapped around them.There was a moment of uncomfortable fumbling—who should do which?—but that passed as Jorge glanced his silken lips across Alex's.For a moment, the universe ceased for both of them—everything distilling down to just two pairs of lips, two tongues.But then the universe cleared its throat and reminded them of its existence by rocking the boat.Laughing at almost spilling into the water, Jorge and Alex eased themselves down—Alex on top, Jorge under.They kissed again, loosing themselves in the feeling of lips on lips as their hands started on buttons and belts, T-shirts and shoes, underwear and pants.The boat rocked again, but soon the two men quieted down: lips to lips, a narrow golden hand on a rough, strong cock—a rough, strong hand on a golden cock.Then with his strong, furry arms, Alex pulled Jorge till Jorge's chest passed by his eager lips.With his firm lips he tasted and teased the narrow man's nipples—coaxing out sweet gasps, moans.Then he was at Jorge's golden cock.Without pause, Jorge was in his mouth, and the taste of him (bitter salt) was ringing on Alex's tongue as he eased him down his throat.Jorge bucked and whined, sounds exploding past his lips.Alex worked him, teasing, swallowing, gumming and tonguing Alex's cock till the tall boy began to buck his face, pushing and pulling till Alex tasted, down deep, the glory of his come.Still flushed steaming, Jorge gently pushed the swarthy Alex back till he was lying in his back, hairy shoulders pressing back onto one of the boat's wooden seats.Reaching down between his legs the pretty boy worked his asshole, opening himself up till he was ready to do what he wanted to do most in the whole wide world: to have Alex's big, fat cock inside him.Then he was—Alex's cock was big and thick, a brilliantly red dick topped with a fat, and surprising soft, head.As he slowly and persistently stuffed himself with it, Jorge had a flash (just a flash) of panic—too big? But that was a magical boat, a special time, and too big or not, Alex fit perfectly into Jorge's asshole.There, together, they rocked back and forth—Alex's meaty dick easing in and out of Jorge's silken asshole.As he rocked, Jorge wrapped a strong hand around his rock-hard cock, stroking himself as he eased himself up and down on Alex's dick.It was a magic time, a magic boat.It was completely unrealistic, completely implausible, but they did it nonetheless: easing in and out of the tight squeeze of Jorge's asshole, Alex felt the come burst out of his balls, rocket out of his sacks and into the deep insides of his new lover and, right then, in that instant, Jorge felt his own start the same route—a skyrocket of pleasure that blinded him for a moment to everything but purple and red stars as he squeezed his eyes shut against the bursting joy.and came all over Alex's heavily furred chest.Time passed, the boat drifted.For a while they both slept, carried through the mists on gentle dreams.Sometime later (who could say how long) they awoke.Alex kissed Jorge, a lover's Thank You kiss.A special kiss that promised more, offered a special tenderness."That was great,” Jorge said, shocked, embarrassed that he'd done it—slapping a sudden hand over his mouth.Alex smiled and kissed him once more—and for a long time, as long as they enjoyed a slow second round, they were silent again.[Back to Table of Contents]PRIVATE RICO'S SALUTESergeant Walchek was pissed.“YOU MOTHERFUCKIN, COCKSUCKIN', SCREW-UPS!!!” That was accurate: he didn't scream (one exclamation point), bellow (two exclamation points), he roared—barracks’ windows ratting in their frames, toilet water rippling, tiles bouncing off the walls—(at least, probably more, exclamation points)."YOU FUCKIN', FUCKIN', FUCKIN’.(he seemed to search through his vast profanity vocabulary for just the right word).ASSHOLES!!!!"The whole unit stood around the latrine, heads hung in shame.As far as they'd been concerned it hadn't been that bad a day.Fuck, ten miles in full kit, half that through a thunderstorm as only Georgia had thunderstorms [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]