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Tear them off!
Take me in your mouth!
Please, Artair. Just do it!
As if sensing Luca couldn’t handle any more teasing of his seven-inch slab, Artair relented.
However, it wasn’t in the way that Luca had expected.
Rather than pull down his straining underwear at the front, Artair ran a lazy hand between Luca’s thighs, the fingertips delicately grazing underneath the cloth, finding the soft and sensitive curves between his balls and ass.
Luca’s whole body shook at that, at the opening of a new front in the battle of pleasure. Artair was back to teasing, gently sliding his fingers along the path toward Luca’s hole but refusing to complete the journey—instead sending his hand across Luca’s thick ass cheeks, taking in the incredible stock that filled to bursting every pair of shorts he’d ever worn.
Artair lingered in that exploration, feeling the soft velvet and immense bulk. His own sweatpants had a growing patch of wet charcoal against the light gray. It had been almost half an hour now, and Artair hadn’t touched himself once. Despite that, he hadn’t softened an inch, straining hard and loving every second of his task.
There was something unbelievably hot in that. In how Artair was such a full-balled, filthy-minded fucker.
“You’ve got such an amazing ass,” Artair growled, squeezing his strong knuckles at the combination of muscle and curvaceous softness.
“And what do you want to do with it?” Luca said, his breath hot enough to set off the fire alarm.
For the first time, there was a little impatience in Artair now. A little more urgency in his caress. Like he’d suddenly remembered that he could do whatever he wanted to Luca.
“Everything,” Artair breathed. “Fucking everything.”
That made Luca’s cock leak even more heavily, the clear drip seeping through the fabric and running down his shaft. It was the thrill of realizing that his big ass was making Artair more desperate to speed things up. Making him eager to slide his tongue and fingers and cock into Luca’s tight hole.
Luca took advantage of Artair’s distraction to tug his hands free of the wrist lock. Artair was so transfixed by Luca’s thickness that he barely even seemed to notice. Artair’s expression was somewhere between worship and disbelief. That all this thickness was his—to play with, to tease, to taste.
To taste . . .
Luca grinned as he formed a naughty plan. It was something he loved—both giving and receiving. And the way Artair was looking at him made Luca certain that he’d love it too.
Finally taking a little command, Luca swiveled his hips.
Slowly.
Sensually.
Like a belly dancer allowing his admirers to drink in every sultry sway and swell of his body.
And Artair drank it in. Running fingertips over every inch of the umber god before him. Trailing his thumbs along the lower curves of Luca’s ass, at the point where the underwear met the soft skin.
Luca exhaled contentedly at that. At the man who adored every inch of his body, just as it was. Who thought him hotter because he looked this way, sweet and swelling like a summer cherry.
His ass swung like a hypnotist’s pocket watch, before finally settling in full view of Artair—huge and full.
Facing away now, Luca hooked his thumbs into his own underwear, the elastic warm and slightly wet from all the pent-up urge beneath. As slowly as Luca could manage, he finally freed himself from the cotton. Past his bulging thighs. Down his knees. Before slowly and sensually stepping out of them, his feet soft and pointed as he did so.
Luca’s cock slapped against his belly, still hard as timber and sticky with excitement. But that wasn’t what Artair was focused on. His attention was firmly on the thick cheeks that were now just inches from his face.
Over his shoulder, Luca smiled at Artair’s wide-eyed stare. At the expression like he’d won the lottery.
At this point, there were all sorts of terrible porno phrases that Luca could’ve said.
Hungry for dessert? was one of them.
Fancy a taste of my honey pot, daddy bear? was another.
