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I imagined a warm mouth wrapped around my erection and closed my eyes so I could run the image through my spank bank. I needed release and was ready to jack off. Normally I’d lay on my bed and pound one out but I was enjoying the view in the mirror. Shy Bo was who people saw, but what they didn’t know was that I liked sex a lot and enjoyed ramping things up when given the opportunity. Being a bit of an exhibitionist would be an appropriate label when I was in the privacy of my home, and especially if I had a sexual partner to join in. Truth be told, I’d only had one so far.
I used to enjoy performing for Jamie by stripping and jacking off in front of him. Staring into his eyes while I stroked my cock, him drooling and working his own piece of meat was a major turn on for me. I thought of him then while I slowly pulled on my dick. I reached for the body lotion sitting on the sink and lubed myself up nice and easy. My eyes scanned the mirror as I held my cock, searching for the perfect mental fantasy.
I was in the gym’s shower when a stranger walked in and stood right beside me. He was a new member who I’d spotted recently. Shorter and smaller than my six-two, I’d noticed he was lean and wiry with sexy smooth legs when he’d been doing lunges during his workout. He appeared to be a year or two older than I was and smoking hot.
He eyed me too as we both sudsed our units, gripping our balls and thrusting our hips toward one another. The stranger glanced at my dick and grinned. “That’s huge, dude,” he said, his eyes fixated and unconcerned about who might see. “Are you okay with guys sucking you off?” he asked.
“Do you swallow,” I hissed. “Can you take me deep down your throat the way I like it?”
He nodded, not moving his eyes from my erection. “I can do anything you want, stud,” he stated, dragging his tongue across his lips. “I’ll suck you so good you’ll beg me to stop.”
I motioned to my cock and he was on his knees faster than a sinning nun in a Catholic church. “Every fucking inch, fucker,” I snarled, grabbing the back of his head and slamming into him hard. There was no resistance as my snake disappeared into his hot, wet, open, love hole. “Fuuuccckkk!” I moaned.
Mystery man had no gag reflex and I was testing his limits. He held my hips and pulled me in and out of his warmth. Shower spray peppered us both while he worked on securing his reward. He pulled away and looked up at me. What I thought was water dripping from the corners of his eyes could’ve been tears from holding me deep in his throat, or it may have been the shower. Either way his mouth felt fucking awesome to me.
He pulled away much to my annoyance. “Your cock is fucking thick, man,” he said, worshipping from his knees. “Hold the sides of my face and fuck your load down my throat.”
I didn’t need to respond to his invite. I held him securely and slowly fed my cock into his open mouth, pushing past his throat as deep as I could go. “Like that, boy?” I hissed. “You get off on sucking a stranger’s dick in the gym, don’t ya?”
He mumbled something with a mouth full of cock while I built speed and fed him what he came for. I tugged the hair on the back of his head, pulling hard and forcing him to watch me as I face fucked him. His eyes were in fact watering, saliva leaking from the corners of his mouth while he focused on me. He was an accomplished cock sucker and he knew it. I closed my eyes and focused on how amazing his oral skills were and how lucky I was to find such a talented oral artist.
I pumped my hips faster and felt my orgasm building. I was close and gripped his head tighter. “That’s it, cock sucker. Keep sucking my dick,” I snarled, lost in his talent.
My eyes popped open exactly as my load shot out of my dick. I sprayed the mirror with my come and my knees buckled slightly from the release, the imagery in my mind coaxing me there. I was drained and the release was exactly what I’d needed. I exhaled deeply and waited for my heart beat to settle in my chest after my imaginary guy drifted from my mind. I decided the fantasy was worth a recall in the very near future. Maybe even later that night.
I reached behind me and turned the shower on again for a rinse off, avoiding my hair due to the gel I’d just put in it. Quick relief had been the story of my life the past two years and masturbation wasn’t cutting it any longer. I wanted real lips wrapped around my dick. I knew with little effort and with all of the available hook-up apps, I could have plenty of sex, but I also wanted connection. That was who I was. I loved sex but I loved sex even more when I was in love with my partner. Even as a teenager I knew love was at the center of sex for me. I was a sensitive creature and understood how satisfying the act was when I was emotionally invested in the person I was with. Sure, I could conjure up hot sexual scenes in my mind when I beat off, every guy did that, but I needed love too.
“It’s about time you moved on, Bo,” I said, drying off in front of the mirror I’d soiled minutes before. “You aren’t going to find a man hiding out here all alone, now are you?” I gave myself a thumbs-up and grinned at my reflection. Strong advice from a guy who couldn’t seem to get over the only man he’d ever loved, but at least I’d accepted I needed to move on.
I pulled on a pair of clean boxers and headed for the fridge for my fave beverage. After grabbing a can of Pringles, I walked out the front door and quietly examined the sky in the distance. I felt my heart skip a beat as I squinted far into the distance. Dark clouds ominously appeared over the Atlantic and they looked to be heading in my direction. My asshole clenched when I noticed my small boat rocking near the dock.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” I whispered. “The news was correct.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Hayes
We’d sailed a hundred or so nautical miles from Charleston and were nearly five miles off shore outside the entrance to Port Royal Sound and our eventual destination, Hilton Head Island yacht club. The captain of Charles’ sailing yacht told everyone we’d be able to safely tuck into the yacht club in case of any storm emergency. No one seemed alarmed by the radio reports and chatter coming in from other watercraft south of our location.
Phillip and I made our way to the large deck located at the bow of the boat. Overhead, the sun was brilliant in the sky and the winds were calm as the extravagant vessel glided across the water. I nervously examined the sky for any signs of bad weather. We’d had the television on when getting ready for a late Sunday afternoon brunch and every channel was speaking about the tropical storm moving along Florida’s coastline. I secretly prayed the storm’s heading would go south instead of north toward South Carolina’s own coastline.
“Charles said the captain would never put us at risk,” Phillip reassured me when he noticed I was anxiously looking at the horizon. “We’re not far from Hilton Head anyway, so calm down.”
“Easy for you to say,” I responded. “You know I’m not a big fan of sailing as it is.”
“Well aware,” he snarked. “Probably why we still don’t have our own boat.”
I shot him a glance. “Didn’t we agree to play nice today?” I reminded him. His emotionless face looked at me, trying to decide if I was truly on board with his truce. “I’m keepingmyend of the bargain up,” I added.
There was a frost about Phillip and our exchanges recently. When people, especially couples, are annoyed about an issue or with one another, the manner in which they communicate can come off as angry and pissy. They’re each on edge. Both sitting on ten pounds of dynamite waiting to light the fuse. As each day went by, followed by weeks and possibly months of this sort of behavior, they’d lost any affection or kindness in their interactions. It hurt my heart, especially because I always felt responsible for our problems lately which only added stress to my emotional availability.
I was an anxious person, always afraid to fail or disappoint people. The stress I put myself through agonizing about whether I was good enough could exacerbate my condition. I sincerely wanted to be a good half to our pair. I’d prided myself on being that person in a relationship. Much like my momma, I desired to be the nest builder and look after my man like she had hers my entire upbringing. Of course, I had a career and an independent life, but I truly wanted the little house with the white picket fence too. It had become clear that Phillip couldn’t live in anything little, let alone be fenced in. His demand that we stay hidden as a couple proved that.
We were almost to the forward deck when Phillip grabbed my arm. “Take your T-shirt off please,” Phillip said. “I want you to look good on deck today.”
“Won’t we be eating?” I asked. “Not to mention that’d be rude, don’t you think?”
“Loosen up, for God’s sake. These are gay dudes, Hayes. We could fuck on the table and they’d still eat the dip.”
“Nice image, but I’m leaving my shirt on, Phillip. Perhaps Michael can remove his?”
