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“Up. Hands and knees,” I murmur. We’ve got a bouncy air mattress beneath us; our bodies dip and trip during the shuffle, but once I’m in position I lock my abs for balance. “That’s it, get your ass in the air for me.”
Logan’s surprisingly obedient with my cock in his ass.
Digging my fingers into his pelvis, I pull back and then I slowly drive in, bottoming out. He shoves his hand into his mouth, stifling a moan.
“Can’t keep quiet, eh? Love my dick in there, don’cha, Lo?”
“Fuck, I fucking do,” he breathes.
“C’mon, hands back here, spread your cheeks for me. Show me how much you want it.”
Nimble fingers reach back, he pries his ass open for me, and the muted moonlight lets me see the shadow of his hole, swallowing my cock. Wish I could see more than that, but I can imagine it well enough—his pretty pucker stuffed to stretching around my oversized dick.
“Do you love being full of me?”
“Yeah. It’s … right amount … too much … not enough. Closer, baby. Want you closer.”
I know what he means. I’m inside him, but I want closer, too. The only way to try is to push.
Footsteps crunch over rocks outside the tent. We freeze, hearts pounding. There’s the rushing sound of someone watering the trees, and then more crunch, crunch, crunch as they return to the motorhome. We hear the door opening and shutting this time.
Logan’s still frozen when they’re gone. “Do you want to stop?” I ask.
“If you take your dick out of my ass, Elkington, I promise you’ll regret it,” he hisses. “Do you want to stop?”
“Fuck no.” I’m not as worried as he probably is about “getting caught”. Besides, everyone knew what I was up to, they walk by this tent at their own risk.
I move again, but this time I don’t hold back, pounding into his ass until he’s mumbling muffled incoherent sounds. The air mattress works in my favor, bouncing him up as my knees push down with the rock of my hips. He tries to take his hands away.
“No. You want my cock; you hold that ass open for it.”
“Oh, God,” he moans.
My little shame slut. Beautiful.
He chants my name over and over, and fuck, the grip he has on my cock—greedily clinging to my shaft, pulling me inside, trying to make it so I can’t pull out. The contractions keep his ass tight for me.
“Rhett, I’m gonna cum,” he whines. “Please.”
It’s half demand, half plea. I’m holding him at the brink, knowing that with just the right rhythm I can bring him over the edge. I can also dangle an orgasm in front of him, keeping his body strung with tension, balls heavy with need for as long as I want to.
“Better quiet that dirty mouth of yours, or they’re gonna hear you.”
A frustrated sob heaves from his lungs. “I hate you,” he says.
I snap my hips harder, reaching deeper, my heart pounding against my chest. The head of my cock hits the place that makes him sing and desperately gasp for air. I finally let him come, but I don’t let up, ripping filthy moans from him. I don’t stop my thrusts, and he milks my cock with his tight ring of muscles until I paint his insides.
This is how we’re sleeping, me in him like this, so I don’t pull out, wrapping my arms around him instead as he releases the grip on his ass.
“My cock … my … you didn’t even touch my cock.”
“Hot, right?” I exhale into his ear and suck on the shell, adding a barrage of shivers to his quaking body.
“Yeah, so hot. Fuck, I loved that.” His voice evens out as his breathing does.
Everything’s messy with our cum but fuck it—we go home tomorrow anyway.
Chapter27
