Page 8 of Whispers on the Mountain

"Because it's hot, and I want to watch," he answers with a sinful little grin as he lifts his water glass to his lips.

I'm shaking my head. It's never made sense to me why a guy would want to watch this. I don't think I can do this. Not even for Augustus Diamani's hungry eyes.

"I don't-- how's it hot?"

Oh fuck.

Augustus sets the water aside, his fingers sliding through the condensation that's built up on the outside of the glass as his hand moves off of it. It's surprisingly sensual and I feel my throat work in a hard swallow.

Then he pulls the hem of his shirt up and peels it over his head, letting it drop on the floor beside him.

Whoa. It's like a wall of eye candy. Inked up, olive skin stretched over defined muscles, and a perfect T of dark hair across flat pecs and trailing down between abs like a stack of bricks.

He stays casually reclined against the counter, his eyes never leaving my face, as his hands work his buckle and pull the leather belt free of the loops on his jeans before letting it drop on the floor by his shirt.

My eyes are glued to his hands as they undo the button on his waist band, lower the zipper, and reach beneath the black fabric of his boxer briefs to take his cock in hand.

* * *

Augustus

To be clear; fiore mio started this.

As soon as I realized what her hand was busy with under the table, I needed to see her. So this is her show and if she wants to know why it's one I want to watch, I'm happy to demonstrate for her.

It also provides sweet relief to my aching cock that's been hard for her since we met on the hillside.

Keeping my movements slow and intentional, I keep my eyes on the beautiful young woman sitting on my kitchen table as I take myself in hand for her to see.

Zephyr's lips part softly at the sight of me. The pink tip of her tongue slides across the edge of her upper lip appreciatively, making my cock surge thicker in my grip as I slide my fist up my length, finishing the first full stroke with a firm tug over the pulsing head.

It's obvious from the hooded gaze and the heavy rise and fall of her full breasts that she's learning the answer to her question; how it's hot to watch someone you find attractive taking their pleasure into their own hands-- especially while they leave no room to doubt that they are thinking of you while they do so.

My hand staggers on my second slow stroke. I have to hold my grip and squeeze my tip to hold myself in check as Zephyr's knees part before me. Thick, shapely thighs fall open, making room for her hand to slip between them and giving me a view even better than the mountains outside my windows.

Everything in front of me is perfection: the fine beads of perspiration that have formed along the crease of her cleavage, the goose-flesh covering her exposed upper arms, pebbled nipples straining under the dress, and the heavy-lidded, foggy gaze that's so focused on the movements of my hand as it works my cock, she might not even realize that she's lost her self-consciousness.

Those thighs fall wider, the yellow dress rucked up around her waist. Her delicate fingers slide between pussy lips that are swollen and dark with her desire, her honey glistening on her fingers as the wet sounds of her work fill my ears.

If you ask me, Nonna's hand-crocheted table cloth has never had a finer centerpiece set upon it.

When fiore comes on her own hand her body shakes violently with my name on her lips like an agonized plea as if I'm the only thing can ease her ache.

Even from six feet across the fucking room, her orgasm is more than I can last through. My free hand clutches at the counter under me as I fuck my own hand relentlessly, matching her rhythm while I watch her make herself come to the sight of me.

Cum shoots from me, arcing into the air like a fountain before splattering on the floor between us. I'll have a hard time mopping the floor later without adding to the mess at the memory of our afternoon.

For a long moment, both of us are still, our eyes locked on one another, both of us breathing heavily.

Zephyr's eyes slide down my chest and watch as I tuck my dick back into my briefs. The damn thing's still half hard and when Zephyr pulls her lower lip between her teeth and parts her knees so I can see her juices still glistening on her inner thighs, I know it won't be going soft soon.

"I need to taste you, fiore."

The words are a prayer, falling from my lips as I slide onto the chair in front of her, swinging her leg over my shoulder and taking her by the back of the thighs to bring her to my mouth.

She's as sweet as I knew she would be.

My mouth collides with her center, my tongue seeking to savor every drop of her pleasure that still sweetens her skin.

---