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“Okay, I am going to sit right here and wait. But if I fall asleep, promise you will wake me up.” Enzo demands it; I just laugh and shake my head. “Promise, Phoebe!” Even his whine is cute when I am in the mood to love him.
“I promise, you crazy ass horny man!” He squeezes me tight and falls asleep with his arms still around me.
I zoom on the rafters’ faces and see the struggle in the seconds I snapped the photos. I flick through the images, and they take my breath away. The sweat running down their faces as they try to preserve and outdo themselves to succeed has me feeling incredibly grateful.
It’s what I try to find when I capture the moment, the emotion so loud on their faces, no other words need to be said. A few seconds say I am alive, not giving up, and will push through to live. Others may claim I am gifted in photography, but it isn’t me that should be marveled at. The models in the picture, the scenes in the frame, are the true artists exposing themselves to be seen.
Hours go by, and when my eyes hurt and my hand aches, I finally decided to call it a night. I put the laptop on my backpack, slowly slipping out of Enzo’s hands. I could wake him up like I promised, but I think I will give us a few more hours of sleep. I snuggle close to him, and I swear I hear him whisper that he loves me in his sleep. My fingers tip-toe over his tattoos. My hand follows the black ink canvas covering his back. And I follow the journey of his wounds as he paints them on his skin.
I went to bed, assuming the sun would be what woke me, not my needy boyfriend.
“You didn’t wake me up.” Enzo is standing on my side of the bed in front of me. “My dick is not in that pretty little mouth of yours.” His hands are on his hips, and I have to squint to let my eyes adjust.
“I’m sorry?”
“You better be, missy. Here I was hoping to wake up to a good morning blowjob, but instead, I woke up to a good morning rush to the bathroom so I don’t piss myself.” Enzo’s hands are on his hips, unimpressed with my mouth not being around a specific body part.
“How upset are you, baby?” I pull him back down to the bed.
“A little hurt, honestly.”
“Is there any way I can make it up to you?” I rub my head against his side.
“Open your mouth, stop talking, and start sucking would be grounds for forgiveness,” Enzo says in a sweet tone that I don’t know if I can even refuse. I smile as he meets my eyes with a puppy dog face. “Please…” First, a wake-up call with a hard dick in my face and now apleaseadded like a cherry on top.
I better get to work.
My eyes still shine against his, my mouth opens, and his eyes drop to my bottom lip as he pulls down the front of his boxers. Enzo’s length appears as it always does when impressing the audience.
My tongue starts at the base and licks its way up. Enzo leans back but watches every move I make. Lips go down to kiss his balls, and I hear the hiss through his grin. I wrap a hand around his hardness, shifting the skin up and down until I can dip my tongue on top to taste his precum.
I spit on the head and use my thumb to wipe it around before covering my mouth over his head and sucking in my cheeks. Fisting his cock, I shove it deeper into my mouth, giving me more flesh to service.
The moan from my throat makes his dick vibrate, and Enzo clenches a hand to my hair to hold steady. I pick up the speed, bobbing my head at a pace I know makes him get to orgasm quicker.
I might be a little tired from staying up editing pictures, but I still want to love my man. Enzo is close, his eyes drooping as he keeps whispering“baby”on his lips. I think about when they kiss me, on my naked skin, all over. It brings me to increase the pressure, the frequency, and finally, my boyfriend is grunting out, holding my head between his hands so he can get a clear shot to shoot down my throat.
Chapter 2
Kenzo
25.2866° N, 80.8987° W Everglades National Park, Florida
Itsmellslikedeath.
I mean that in the rudest way possible, Florida. This is where all the homicidal maniacs and weekend spree killers take their bodies to dispose of. You can definitely smell the lost souls and their few pieces of skin. The ragged bones of the unfortunate, I hope Phoebe and I don’t join in on the massacre.
“Tell me again why they have you photographing this ugly mess of swampland.” We are in a motorboat, and I try to relax even if I hear the screams quieting in the distance. It might just be the bugs.
“I’m a nature photographer. It is kind of in my job description.” Phoebe holds up her camera and angles it at one of the tree hammocks.
“But can’t you just pass up the offer and say thanks, but I would rather go back to Nepal?” It isn’t that I don’t love our trips; I do. Phoebe and her company have shown me more of the world than I ever saw. But sometimes, there are places that just really stink,literally.
“What is with you, grouchy pants?” Phoebe smirks at my discomfort.
“Why are you having a good time?” It’s my turn to interrogate her.
She shrugs easily and waves me over to sit in the middle of the boat with her. I rest my head on her lap and kick up my feet on the edge.
