Page 55 of Close Quarters

I looked over my shoulder, pulling my fist from my mouth. “C’mon Reno, I’m almost there. Come in me. I want to come in your mouth again.”

I knew he was technically versatile, but other than sharing blowjobs, I hadn’t got to see it in action. However, I knew he loved it when he got me off with his mouth, though not nearly as much as he did when he fucked me into an orgasm. That last one, however, would have to wait. I would need at least a few more minutes, and from the sounds of his breathing, we didn’t have a few minutes.

His grip on my hip tightened, nails digging into my skin as he gave a harsh groan. With an even harsher thrust, he buried himself inside me so hard it moved me along the table. My breath shook as I felt his cock jerk, filling me with a warmth that was a lot more than just his cum. His hips quivered as he continued to hold himself as tightly against me as he could, keeping his load as deep as possible before he let out a shaky breath and eased off.

When he pulled out, I ignored the feeling of emptiness that came with that and turned, hopping up onto the table. Before I could wrap my hand around myself, he bent forward, taking hold of the base and taking me into his mouth. I should have expected it, but the sudden sensation made me gasp loudly in surprise, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck.

I trusted he knew what he was doing, and Reno was not one to disappoint. While he wasn’t as immune to gagging as I was, he certainly made up for it in enthusiasm and skill. My whole body was alight with pleasure and anticipation, and watching my cock disappear into his mouth while he bobbed vigorously was always a treat.

Once upon a time, I might have thought Reno would be the type of lover who had no problem going all out when it came to fucking, but would be reluctant when it came to anything else. It turned out the man had a lot of weird self-consciousness about his body before we’d slept together, but all that had gone out the window from the first fuck. It didn’t matter what he was doing with me sexually, he approached it without hesitation and with plenty of enthusiasm.

“Fuck, Reno, I’m going…I’m gonna…” I began, gasping heavily, trying to keep myself from crying out. The first time he’d done it, I thought he would be the type to veer away from letting a guy come in his mouth. And again, I had been surprised when, instead, he made sure to get every last drop, and since then, I’d never tried to warn him off. “Fuck!”

Once again, at the first pulse of my dick, he pulled back to let it fill his mouth before shoving forward, taking me to the hilt. It never failed to drive me crazy, my already oversensitive body screaming at the sudden rush of pleasure in the heat of his mouth. At least this time, I had the sense to shove my knuckles into my mouth as I pumped the rest into his throat.

Panting, covered in sweat, floating somewhere above cloud nine, I fell back onto the table and stared at the dirty ceiling. That type of sex had less build-up than others and hadn’t blown my brain cells to the moon, but that didn’t mean I didn’t still feel light and free for a little while.

“Get up,” he told me roughly, slapping my ass from the side. “I need some water.”

I sat up with a smirk. “Trying to get the taste of me out of your mouth?”

“No,” he said, his lips curling in a smile. “But I just did most of the work for both of us, and I sweat like a pig.”

I kissed those curving lips because, God damn, sometimes it was impossible not to. Seeing him smile, knowing I was partially responsible for the expression, was enough to weaken and push me forward. To be fair, he didn’t pull away and, in fact, leaned into the kiss, letting me enjoy it for a while. I noticed the way his hands hung at his side as if drained of vitality from his orgasm. I tried not to let my mind obsess about that too much and instead focused on the fact that he was at least returning the kiss, not reluctantly.

“C’mon,” he said with a shake of his head. “Like you said, they’re going to start looking, and if you keep sitting there, you’re going to leave a mess on the table.”

“Your mess, you mean,” I told him, nudging him back so I could drop off the table and hike my pants up.

“Yes, well, don’t leave DNA evidence behind.”

“Pretty sure they’re not going to DNA test some random cum someone found. I think in a place like this, they’d run out of money doing that. If most of the guys here aren’t constantly jerking off, then I’m a virgin.”

“And we know that’s not true,” he said, slapping my ass slightly more roughly than was called for.

“Ow!” I hissed as I buttoned my pants. “That was rude…and hurt.”

“I figured,” he said, walking toward the door. “Now, let’s get back to work. Maybe now I’ll be able to focus.”

I was chuckling until he opened the door, and directly across from us, leaning against the back of one of the cabins, thick arms crossed over his chest, was Dom.

“Or maybe not,” Reno said.

RENO

Shit.

Shit, shit fucking shitty shit, shit.

Fuck me.

“Well, heya, Dom,” Elliot said with a brightness that anyone who didn’t know him might believe. But he was doing it in front of two people who knew him well, just to different degrees. “What’re you doing here? Slacking already?”

“Well, you see, I went looking for you after you wandered off. I didn’t think it would take so long to get some sunblock, and well, they were getting ready to bring around the lemonade, figured you wouldn’t want to miss it,” Dom explained, apparently unsure if he wanted to glare at me or Elliot. Though, I had a not-so-sneaking suspicion that by the end, this man’s anger would be fully and wholly directed at me.

“Lemonade?” Elliot asked, eyes going wide with completely unfeigned delight. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” Dom said, still narrowing his eyes.

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