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He groaned and rested his forehead against my back. “Stronzo. Do not make me laugh right now.”
With three thrusts he was all the way inside. I braced myself against the tree. He began fucking me then, long strokes of his perfect dick that rattled my teeth. Each brush over my prostate had me seeing stars, like an electric charge to my balls.
“So. Fucking. Hot.” He punctuated each word with a thrust. “Watching you back there made my dick so hard.”
Leaves suddenly crunched and I looked over. A stranger was there, lurking. He had his dick in his hand, watching Giulio and I fuck while he masturbated. It became clear why there were cars in the parking lot at this hour. This was that sort of public park.
His gaze locked on to where Giulio was ramming my ass, the stranger pulled and twisted his fat cock. I hadn’t been watched before. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
What did Giulio and I look like to this man? Rutting animals in heat? Desperate and wild to fuck? I arched to take more, encouraging Giulio to go faster.
“He’s watching you take my cock like a good slut,” Giulio crooned, apparently unconcerned about our audience. Hardly surprising, as he’d racked up an astonishing number of public blow jobs in nightclubs. But for me, this was a first.
“You like it, don’t you?” he said and continued those long strokes. “You like being watched. Admit it.”
At the words my body clenched, balls drawing tight. No one had ever gotten me off faster than this man. My dick hung down between my legs, waving wildly as Giulio pounded me. And the angle of his thrusts was pure heaven, my prostate lighting up with each drag. Tiny explosions rippled through me from head to toe.
“Tell me,” Giulio barked. “Admit it and I’ll let you come.”
“Minchia!” I sucked in air, gasping and writhing against the bark. I was so close. My fingertips dug into the tree.
“Un puttano, no? Dimmi, amore."
Whether it was the dirty name or the endearment, I couldn’t hold back. Come shot out my dick, my muscles locking, and I clung to the tree like a life preserver. The edges of my vision blacked out, helpless as I trembled and shook.
Giulio thickened and I could feel him shoot inside me. Warm jets filled me, so much that I could feel it already running down my inner thighs. He shouted up to the sky.
When I could focus again, the man in the bushes was gone, but there was a wet spot on the ground where he’d been standing.
Panting, Giulio rested on my back, his cock still buried inside me. “Cristo. So fucking good, assassino.”
Yes, it had been. I wished it wasn’t over.
He pulled out and I winced. I would definitely feel it tomorrow. Straightening, I started to take off my boot to get to my sock—an old trick from the military days. A way to clean up quickly when a cloth wasn’t available.
“What are you doing?” Giulio asked as he hitched up his jeans.
“Wiping up with my sock.”
“The fuck you are.” He grabbed my hands. “I want you sticky with my come the entire ride back to our apartment.”
“Giulio,” I sighed.
He cupped my cheek. “Do not argue.” Then he kissed me softly, sweetly. If only I could stop time, I would have this moment right here, forever. Sore from his dick, filled with his come, his mouth on mine. It was perfect.
When we broke apart, he held something up. “Look at what I have.”
A phone. I didn’t understand. “Whose is it?”
“Nino’s.”
“You stole his phone?”
“Yes, and we’re going to take it to someone who can crack it.”
I buttoned my cargos, wincing at the wet mess in my briefs.
He reached back and squeezed my ass. “That’s fucking hot. I like the idea of you sitting in my come.”
