Gene pulled back a little, sliding his hand down between them and wrapping his hand around their weeping cocks.
“Oh, God,” Gene exhaled, “that feels amazing.”
Billy looked down, fighting the urge to climax too soon.
Gene’s big hand held their dicks together, pumping them up and down, faster and faster, twisting his hand over the tops and back down again, their fluids mingling and slickening their erections, until they were both panting hard, thrusting together into his hand. The sensation of rubbing against each other was almost overwhelming and Billy knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.
Gene kissed him hard before pulling away and leaning in to his ear. “Come for me, baby,” he whispered,his voice deep and husky.
“Ohh, Gene,” he moaned as his words pushed Billy over the edge. He felt the tingle in his spine, then felt his balls tighten right before thick white cream shot out and up, splattering their chests and dripping down. Jet after jet streamed out as he closed his eyes against the intensity of his climax. Colors exploded behind his eyelids as he shuddered with wave after wave of pleasure, his heart poundingin his ears.
“Billy!” Gene ground out and Billy opened his eyes just in time to see his lover climax and shoot his release all over Billy’s chest, mingling with his own come.
“Damn, you’re beautiful, Billy,” Gene whispered, his eyes fixed on his come-covered chest.
Billy smiled shyly. He tilted his head back and licked his lips. “Gene?”
“Yeah, baby?”
Billy laughed as “The Great Pretender” began playing.
“What’s so funny?”
Billy shook his head, a grin spread across his face, knowing he didn’t have to pretend anymore. “After we fix my car, how about we head out to California together?”
Gene smiled. “I thought you would never ask,” he whispered, pulling him into his strong arms.
THE END
Bonus Content: The Promise of Hope Shelter 1st
Published in 2017 by JMS Books. Buy your copy today!
1
His shoulders sagged and his head fell forward until his forehead rested on his folded arms. The nearly ancient wooden desk creaked under the added weight, and a vision of himself crashing to the floor flashed through his mind. Any other day he would have pulled himself up and moved away from the rickety piece, but today was definitely not any other day.
At least the cold sweats had finally ended, and if he were to open his eyes, he was fairly confident he wouldn’t feel like retching again. Still, knowing the trash can was just under the desk comforted him.
How the hell had this happened?
The small, portable fan on his desk barely managed to stir up more than a warm breeze as it oscillated, prickling the short hairs on his head. He rubbed his hand back and forth over his skull, letting the weird tickling sensation relax him. It usually took a few days for him to get used to a new haircut, but he was glad he had gone shorter than normal today. Though it certainly didn’t hide his ears, which he always felt stuck out a little too far, the shorter cut kept him cooler.
He hid in the darkness behind his closed eyelids, even as he knew wallowing in his misery would never solve anything. He tried to focus on his breathing and did his best to ignore the racing thoughts tearing through his brain.
“Jacob? You in there?”
Shit. So much for being alone. Maybe if I stay completely still…
“Jacob?”
A rap on the door told him the voice’s owner wasn’t going away.
He sighed and dragged himself up, squinting against the bright sunlight streaming in through the bare window. He really needed to hang curtains or blinds soon.
“Yeah. I’m here,” he called, attempting to sound chipper. “It’s not locked. Come on in.”
The newly stained door opened into the office and Peter stepped inside. “Dude, what’s going on with you?” His pale blue eyes widened as he stared at Jacob. “Fuck, you look like shit.”
“Language, Peter.”
The kid rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth shut.
“Was there something you needed? Or were you just trying to get out of kitchen duty again?”
Peter blanched and gave an exaggerated shudder. “I don’t see why I should have to work in the kitchen.It’s disgusting.”
Jacob calmly listened to the daily reasons why Peter felt he shouldn’t have to help in the kitchen until the teen stopped for a breath.
“Are you done?”
Peter shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, I guess,” he answered pitifully.
Jacob bit back another sigh. “You have to work a shift in the kitchen just like everyone else. No exceptions.”
Peter huffed but stayed silent.