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Victor
I lean over and kiss his brown bicep where it’s stretched out to hold the wheel. I flick my tongue against the faint salt taste of his skin.
Pushing up the sleeve of his t-shirt, I kiss the tip of his shoulder, nuzzle my face against it. He swallows, grip tightening.
Reaching up the leg of his shorts, I palm his cock and start lazily jerking it. His protest trails off into a hungry sound and the car wobbles a little.
I rub my thumb hard over his slit. “Concentrate. Distracted driving kills.”
“You’re a little shit,” he mumbles, but when I stop moving my hand he shifts his hips pleadingly.
Breathing slowly through my nose, feeling my own dick throb, I grind him between my palm and his leg and he says my name in a fragile voice I like and drifts toward the center line.
“You’ve got such a fat fucking head,” I tell him, teasing the edges of it. “It stretches out my mouth, fills up my throat.” I push up his shorts, his cock laying heavy against his thigh. “Look at it. My tongue’s gonna get tired playing with that, but if you tell me to keep going I’ll lick it all over until you’re crazy, until you blow.”
The suspension bounces as he swings the wheel and barrels up a dirt road, shady and overhung with trees and the sound of late summer birds. I can smell the dust settling around us as the engine goes quiet. We stare at each other, his eyes glazed and his needy panting.
It’s not enough to blow him.
Standing up on my seat, I step across and straddle his lap and his hands go straight to my ass, pull down the back of my shorts so he can palm my bare skin. I trail my fingers through his short hair, our noses touching as I drown in his eyes. He looks up at me like I’m God and I finally came to tell him all the secrets of the universe.
I fuck with him, leaning in for a kiss and pulling back at the last second, grinning, until he lunges up and seizes my mouth, grabs the back of my neck as he fills me with his hard tongue. His lips are rough and they always bring mine to life, tingly and sore.
You will never forget me.
Every one of your dreams will have a ghost that looks like me.
Every man you fuck will taste like me.
Lifting his hips, he pulls down his shorts, then yanks mine around my knees. Our erections touch, mine long and pale, his dusky and thick. He spits into his palm and jerks them together as I brace my hands on either side of his head, watching them swell, watching his hand milk and smear our precum into a shiny slick along our shafts.
Then he lets go and kisses me again, messy and deep, and his fingers tease along my ass crack. Instinctively, I spread wider, open up for him, because I know what he needs and he knows what I need. “Good,” he whispers. “Get it ready for me.” I stick out my tongue and he slides his middle finger all the way into my mouth, lets me suck it.
I rest my head against his shoulder as he works his wide, wet finger into me, my legs shaking. There’s nothing in the world like that feeling of being forced open, filled up, opened more, filled more. I’m making obscene noises, thrusting, trying to get him to give me another finger.
When he does, I sit up and grab the sides of the car and ride his hand, head thrown back to look at the endless green leaves, all rustling like they're trying to tell me something. He runs his tongue up my chest, holds me still with his free hand and sucks my nipples, bites me hard. My hips jerk against his fingers and then he curls them against the perfect spot just once, twice, like no one has ever done before, his hand wrapped around the very core of me, and the world explodes behind my eyes as cum sprays my chest.
“Fuck,” I groan, resting my forehead against his, quivering as he empties me, leaves me open. He runs his hand up my back and holds me still. Eyes locked on mine, he jerks himself in slow, hard pulls, daring me to look away.
The wind brushes across my body and his, tickling my damp skin. In his dark, warm eyes I find the reflection of the sun filtering through hundreds of branches, specks of gold moving and shimmering as the leaves flutter. His hand comes around to rest on my cheek, his thumb stroking the tender, exhaustion-bruised skin under my eye.
And I see it. The echo of my own thoughts.You will never forget me. Every man you fuck will taste like me.
I nod to him.
Then I turn my face and kiss his palm and he shivers under me, coming all over his belly with a deep, throaty whine.
We rest for a while, just as we are, because this has to last us forever. When I wad up my t-shirt to wipe us clean, he says “Wait” very softly.
He turns me over and lays me on my back along the seats. Every part of my body fizzles and sparks as he lies on top of me, heavy on my legs, and starts gently licking away the cum on my chest. He takes a long time, trailing his tongue over same spots again and again until every hint, every taste of it is gone. Then he rests his cheek against my chest.
When I tap his shoulder, he crawls up until his abs are level with my mouth. I hold his thighs still and lap it all away, the good, good taste of him, writing my name across his body with my tongue.
I tip my head back to look up at him. “You’re inside me now.”
“I know.” He sits up, straddling my chest.
“Am I inside you?”
He runs his fingers through my hair. “Taste and see.”
He parts my mouth and lets me explore his tongue, the mystery of it. I can taste us both, tangled together, rich like a dark wine.
“Don’t forget this,” I tell him as we sit naked in the car, my back against his shoulder, and listen to the faint sound of goats bleating, carried on the wind. Because for every mile we travel closer to Naples, the foreboding in my chest is getting deeper.
