Chapter 72
Scooter shivered, moaning at the sweet friction. He cupped Andy’s ass, let his fingers slide up under the thin material of Andy’s shorts. They were tight enough that he got pinned in by the fabric, couldn’t touch, caress. With an impatient sigh, he tugged at them until they slipped off Andy’s hips. Graceless, heedless, Scooter worked them down until Andy could help him. “I want…want to look at you, baby; can I look at you?”
“Long’s I can look back,” Andy said, squirming to push his shorts off onto the floor and tug at Scooter’s at the same time. “You want to talk about temptation, you wandering around in the mornings in nothing but your damn jeans, nnnngh.” He managed to work a hand down the back of Scooter’s shorts and squeezed Scooter’s ass.
Scooter flipped the blankets back, flooding them with cooler air. His skin rippled with gooseflesh and he gazed at Andy with something close to awe. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen most of Andy undressed before; a swimsuit wasn’t much to hide behind, and he was familiar with the shape of Andy’s shoulders and arms, the lean belly and long, trim legs. That didn’t make looking again any less pleasing. Then Scooter’s eyes were drawn to the parts he hadn’t seen before. Andy’s cock was gorgeous, dark with arousal and hard, a little curve to the left that just made it even more mouth-watering. Perfect.
Scooter kicked his own shorts off, and then, finally, finally, they were naked together. Scooter hitched in a breath, feeling blessed and a little shy and desperately, desperatelywanting all at the same time. He dragged his gaze back up, past plump, perfect nipples and the smooth line of Andy’s throat, and finally met Andy’s eyes. “I am going to taste you now.”
And he put his mouth to work, trailing kisses down Andy’s chest. Found one of those nipples and licked at it, nuzzled, twisted his tongue over it until it was firm and peaked under his mouth, until Andy was arching up into the touch. He moved lower, exploring the xylophone of Andy’s ribs, the dip at Andy’s navel, the sensitive skin at the point of Andy’s hip, drawing out twitches and moans, giggles and squirms, shudders and deep-throated groans.
Scooter glanced up, mouth hovering bare millimeters above Andy’s cock to gauge his reaction, then teased, tongue flicking out and ghosting over the crown, tasting the bead of precome there.
“Oh, fuck—” Andy gasped, and his fingers curled into Scooter’s hair, his head tipping back as his back arched. “God, Scooter, please…”
Scooter situated himself between Andy’s legs. He pressed Andy’s thighs apart, spreading them wide. He took a moment to admire Andy, sprawled open and unselfconsciously on display. He took Andy into his mouth, licking at the head of Andy’s cock like a Popsicle, stroking down its length and then back up, quick, slick movements. He ran his tongue around the base, then up the vein, teasing, tracing, tasting. God, Andy was sweet, his skin tangy and seasoned with the faint traces of sea salt that everyone picked up from the breeze.
It didn’t take long before Andy was writhing, whimpering and begging. His hands moved restlessly, from Scooter’s hair to Scooter’s arms to clenching at the sheets to pinching at his own nipples—Jesus Christ. His whole body moved, curling and arching, hips jerking as if he couldn’t quite decide whether to push in toward Scooter’s mouth or pull away. “Scooter, fuck, I—Oh, fuck, please, honey, God, yes, that, just like—”
Scooter flexed his fingers, taking a greedy handhold on Andy’s ass and lifting, bringing Andy closer, sucking Andy’s cock as far down as he could take it, until he could scarcely breathe. Lost himself in the sensation of Andy’s body moving against his, frantic and unable to still the rhythm of his tongue and mouth, the salt and bitter taste, the ragged moans that he tore from Andy’s throat.
Andy arched again, crying out as Scooter worked him over. The sheer, physical pleasure of him was blinding; he was everything Scooter had imagined in those desperate fantasies and more.
But it was the emotional overflow that made Scooter want to weep in gratitude: that he was finally, finally able to unleash himself on Andy’s body, and that Andy was letting him. He pulled back to gasp for air, nuzzling his cheek against Andy’s spit-slick cock, letting the heat of his breath tease out another shiver.
Andy twitched and whined with each small movement, panting almost as hard as Scooter. “Ohgod,” he groaned, a lust-addled slur, “pleasetell me you top, because there is no wayI’m lasting long enough if you only bottom.”
Oh sweet Christ. Scooter dropped his head, resting his forehead against Andy’s thigh at the ache that rippled through him. He pulled himself up, slow, until he was level with Andy’s face. Touched his cheek, ran a thumb across Andy’s lip. Twice, he’d done it that way. Chris had never let him, of course—Chris had been too hyper-masculine, too self-conscious of image to even return oral favors. But he had done it a few times, and had experienced it enough himself to know what not to do. And God, God, Scooter wanted to sink into Andy, to plough him into the mattress, experience him shaking and eager under Scooter’s body. “I can make it good for you,” Scooter promised. “You want that? Want me to open you up and take you apart? Sounds good to me. Want to feel you around me, the way you shiver…Oh, God, I want that.”
“Yes, please, please. Want you in me. Over me, surrounding me and filling me up…” Andy sucked in Scooter’s thumb as it moved across his lip again, tongue flicking at the pad, eyes hot like a promise.