Page 161 of The Forever Vault

When I wanted it slow, I leaned forward, made eye contact, and took his cock nice and easy. When I wanted it fast and hard, I leaned back, bracing myself with my arms behind me and pistoned up and down with wild abandon. My hard dick flopping against my stomach along with each thrust of his from below got me close each time.

“Luke, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna cum.”

“That’s the idea, babe. Unless you don’t want to.”

“No! I - want to. Just - letting - you knoooow! Fuck!”

With each spurt, he bucked, giving me wave after wave of pleasure. I was so hopeful for hands-free because that looks way sexier, but already I could feel Cam slipping into a post-orgasm haze.

“No, you don’t, Cam. You said you wanted to hear me scream your name while I came and I haven’t said it yet. Give me ten more thrusts.”

That brought Cam back to me with a smile. “Yes, Coach.”

His cock along with his dirty talk and my fist around my shaft, pumping furiously, were enough to coat our chests with my cum.

“Fuck, that was good,” I said, falling forward, smearing the mess between us. I could feel less of Cam’s cock stretching me, which meant it was softening and after a minute or two, it slipped out of me completely.

Cam sighed and kissed the top of my head. “Top ten?”

I turned my face up, away from his chest, to agree. “Top ten.”

“Shower?” Cam asked.

“Unless you want to smell like a heavily-used jockstrap all night and sleep in a wet burrito,” I replied.

“Hmm, that’s a tough one.”

“Shut up!” I said, pushing myself off his body. “We’re showering.”

* * *

The next day flew by. Our competitions were in the morning because the arena had to be prepped for the final games of basketball. The US team had made it to the gold medal game, which wasn’t surprising, considering it was the one sport we’d dominated for the longest time. Miles, Ezra and I all added to our medal totals.

The United States men’s gymnastics team ended the San Francisco Olympics with ten gold medals, three silver medals, and five bronze medals. It was an American record for the men. One of the headlines was The Little Team (of Strong Gay Men) that Could, which was the current topic of discussion at our team’s celebration brunch.

Mimosas were on the house, because Woodward had found a gay-friendly - shocking! - restaurant, where the owner also happened to be a former gymnast from Stanford. He told us when his employee asked him about a party of twenty-one, he assumed it was for a wedding or birthday. But when he asked for the name and heard Martin Woodward, he knew it was for the team. He joked with us that usually he has a hard time getting extra help to come in, but when he said it was for the men’s gymnastic team, everyone said yes.

I looked down the table at Miles’ grandmother, wondering if she was shocked that her grandson might be treated like a piece of meat, but at the very moment, she squeezed Hudson’s bicep, laughed, and said, “I can see why. My goodness, it’s like a python.” The entire table burst into laughter and for once, Hudson was blushing, though he had a huge smile on his face. It sounded like it was a lot for her to travel, but when Miles had qualified for two event finals on the same day, it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

They were at one end of the table with Woodward, his wife, and Cassandra. I was in the middle with Cam, his mom, Noah and Shane, Ty, Declan, and O, and the other end of the table was Ezra, his family, and Zane and Torben.

The servers came by with baskets of pastries and took our order. I wanted to enjoy my plate-sized pancakes, so despite wanting to try one of each type of pastry, I only had a cheese danish.

“Austin’s training, I assume?” I asked O.

“Yeah, all his matches are tomorrow.”

“So, Remy’s with him?” Cam asked.

“Yeah, even though Dennis is in jail, the Foxes are taking no chances.”

I was glad when Declan asked, “But what about you?” Because I was thinking the same thing.

“Oh, he’s never cared about me. It’s like he doesn’t even know I exist, which I suppose I should be happy about, but it pisses me off that he completely ignored that we’re in a relationship.”

“Well, the guy is not well, bro,” Ty said. “And none of it was your fault, or Austin’s.”

“Thanks.” O downed his mimosa and signaled one of the waiters for a refill.