Hi there!
Here is a brand new story, that I hope you enjoy. I haven't decided if it should be a stand-alone or part of a new series. Any feedback is as always welcome.
I have started self-publishing on Amazon under the pen name Philip Stone. Feel free to check out my other stories there. https://www.amazon.com/author/philipstone
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Happy reading! /Stayedhere
Throwing Away the Anchor
It was the first time in what felt like forever, I had a real vacation. I was sitting on a stone bench, gazing up at the sky - a boundless mass of blue relieved only by the occasional floating fluff of clouds. A delicate breeze wandered in from the sea, carrying the scent of cypress and sunbaked stone. Next to me, my wife Ann fumbled with her phone, wrestling against the glare of the sun on the screen. She tucked her sunglasses on her head and raised a frown as she squinted at the display.
"What time is it again, Clive? I feel like we've waited forever," she grumbled.
I cast her a quick smile, not wanting to ruin the moment.
"It's only a quarter past," I said calmly. "We'll have plenty of time to enjoy the villa."
The villa loomed before us, a magnificent testament to Greek architecture with its sprawling courtyards and cool terraces. A colleague of mine had recommended it and we were waiting for the caretaker to let us in. We had arrived on Naxos only this morning, and I was already starting to unwind.
"Ann," I said, breaking the silence. "Look at the sea, it's amazing".
I motioned towards the panoramic view of the Aegean sea in front of us. Ann glanced up from her phone and forced a smile.
"It's beautiful. Really."
Before I could reply, the sound of flip-flops smacking against the cobblestone driveway alerted us to the caretaker's presence. Me and Ann exchanged glances, awaiting our first impression of the man that in the mail had presented himself as Andreas. A lean, tanned figure, clad in white singlet and shorts, with a low-hanging towel slung over his shoulder, sauntered toward us with a faint smile. I estimated that he was around twenty years old. His dark eyes sparkled with the curiosity of youth, and his golden skin rippled gently as he moved with a lithe grace. Over his shoulder, a pair of shears swung idly, dangling like a pendulum from the toolbelt slung across his hips.
"Welcome to Lefteris' Villa, and Naxos" Andreas greeted us, his voice unusually deep for his youthful appearance. "I am Andreas. Your caretaker for the week".
I stepped forward to shake his hand, noticing the softness of his grip as he enveloped mine with warm fingers.
"Clive Lomax," I replied. "This is my wife, Ann".
She hesitantly reached towards him, wincing at the sight of the scruff that dusted his chin.
"Pleased to meet you," she murmured, only slightly managing a smile.
"Im sorry if Im a little late," Andreas said. "I was pruning the bougainvillea in the back. Would you like a tour of the villa? I have made sure that it's spotless for you."
I glanced at Ann, who still seemed distantly preoccupied with her phone. She managed a curt nod, and we followed Andreas. In front of the house there was a large pool with an adjoining bungalow.
"This is where I am staying," Andreas pointed towards the bungalow. "Right next to the pool, so that I can keep an eye on it, do the maintenance when needed."
The pool looked cool and inviting, shimmering like an emerald set against the deep blue of the sky and sea vista. While Ann took a glance at the pool, she didn't seem impressed, already consumed in her phone. Andreas noticed and smiled gently before leading us through the villa's grand entrance. Lofty ceilings with exposed wooden beams drew our eyes upward, while the white-washed walls kept the open space bright and airy. Sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, revealing the terracotta roof tiles as if through a gilded picture frame. Our footsteps echoed softly against the polished marble floor as we moved deeper into the villa. Andreas motioned towards the rooms with practiced ease and showed us the spacious living room, the dining room, and the kitchen were all pristine and immaculate, their interior design echoing the rugged beauty of the island itself.
In the master bedroom, Ann left me to examine the large bed and the expansive bathroom while she remained engrossed in her phone. I couldn't help but steal a glance at Andreas as he stood just outside the bedroom, gazing out the window thoughtfully. The sun danced off his tanned skin, eliciting an unexpected surge of something I couldn't quite pin down.
"What do you think of the bedroom?" I asked Ann, who still appeared fixated on her phone. "It's quite spacious, don't you think?"
She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she lowered her phone and regarded me with a frown.
"The beds are nice enough," she mumbled, her voice tinged with lethargy.
Our marriage had become an invisible wall that subtly wedged itself between us. Yet, my attraction to Andreas was hard to ignore. I tried to repress it, but I found myself entranced by his youthfulness and the faint allure of his earthy scent, accompanied by the chlorine emanating from his towel like an invisible thread. I wondered how he would look like in speedos. A sight for sore eyes, I imagined. I was 45 myself, a hardworking financial analys who still went to the gym regularly. But my physique was nothing compared to this young man.
"Andreas," I began, trying to sound as casual as possible. "Are you from around here?"
He lowered his gaze from the window, smiling at me with those mesmerizing eyes.
"Yes, I was born here, in the countryside. My father was a fisherman and my mother a seamstress. I helped my father on the boat. After my father passed away, my uncle gave me this chance to work at Lefteris' Villa. He worked for the previous owners, you see."
"So, no life as a fisherman for you?"
"My father died at sea, and I had to take care of my mother. Working here grants me more freedom. My father lived like that, too. Paime ton vase. Throw away the anchor."
Andreas shuffled his flip-flops on the cool marble floor. It was a curious saying, but before I could talk some more to the handsome young man, Ann lurched out of the master bedroom with an audible sigh.
"I think I need something to drink."
She spoke in a tone devoid of energy, as if fighting the weight of a heavy load.
"I`ll take care of it, honey," I said warmly, observing how her gaze turned towards Andreas.
I couldn't help but notice the curiosity flickering within her eyes - a hint of intrigue that lingered on the edge of her vision like the remnants of a distant dream. It wasn't long before I followed her into the kitchen, eager to distract her from the scene at the bedroom door. I uncorked a bottle of chilled rose, filling two crystal glasses with the foamy depths of the wine. Ann's depression had lingered for a long time now, ever since our youngest daughter moved out. I had thought getting away from home would lift Ann's spirit, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.
"To our vacation," I announced, clinking the rim of my glass against Ann's.
She attempted a smile but betrayed her reluctance with a sigh. We both sipped the wine, and I indulged in its tangy bouquet before letting the pale pink liquid slide down my throat.
"So, what should we do tomorrow?" I asked Ann, hoping to start planning activities to keep her engaged.
She looked into the wine glass, swirling its contents slowly. Her gaze was distant, not meeting my eyes.
"I don't know," she replied. "Maybe I'll take a nap or go for a walk down the beach. Some days it's hard to do much when you're not entirely yourself."
"Well go down to the village, its a beautiful place. It was built at the foot of the mountains and it`s near the beach."
I tried to sound enthusiastic for her sake, but my mind couldn't help but wander back to Andreas and how he might be getting ready for the night inside the pool house. Ann's smile wavered, but then she nodded, seemingly giving in to the idea of exploring the village tomorrow.
That night I fell asleep next to Ann. In my dreams, I found myself in an ancient Greek temple, its marble columns casting long shadows across the sun-scorched floor. The landscape outside was barren, with large looming cedar trees the only growing things. I was wearing a thin, white linen tunic that clung to my body like a second skin, revealing the curves and contours of my muscular form. I stood in the center of the temple, surrounded by tall, stone statues of Greek gods and goddesses, their eyes seeming to watch me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. Suddenly, the temple doors burst open, and a figure stepped forward into the dim light. It was a man wearing a white mask over his face. He was dressed in a simple white linen chiton that left little to the imagination. As he approached me, I could not move. The man slowly removed his mask, and revealed himself as Andreas. His dark eyes sparkled with an unspoken hunger as he approached me, his lean, muscular body radiating heat. It was like some scene in an ancient play - a seduction or a sacrifice - and I was entranced.
"Clive," Andreas murmured, his voice laced with desire as his fingers traced along the smooth skin of my arms. "I've wanted you since the moment I saw you."
Arousal gripped me like a tidal wave, and I felt my pulse racing in my chest. I reached for Andreas, pulling him closer to me as our bodies collided. But just as our lips were about to meet in a passionate kiss, I awoke in my own bed, panting for breath, drenched in sweat, and consumed by a ravenous need.
The following morning, after a brief breakfast of fresh Greek fruit and strong coffee, we set off for the neaarby village. Ann, who appeared unusually animated after a good nights sleep, ordered another round of drinks from a seaside taverna. The sun was already beating down mercilessly on the cobblestone streets, and the air was thick with the salty tang of the sea. The dream had left me feeling slightly disoriented, my mind still filled with images of Andreas' chiseled body and those deep, inviting eyes. I glanced at Ann, who seemed completely captivated by the view, her eyes following the curve of the horizon as it met the azure sea.
"This place is amazing," she murmured, pausing to take a deep breath. "It is so real somehow."
I nodded, taking a moment to fully appreciate the view before gesturing to the waiter for another round of drinks. The harbor was bustling with local life, the boats in the marina lapping gently against the quay. We could see locals unloading their fresh catch. Fishermen with worn, grizzled faces and clothes stained by the sea. I remembered what Andreas had told me about his father. It must be a hard life, but in their eyes, I only saw pride and freedom. Paime ton vase. Throw away the anchor. Maybe it meant to just let life flow beneath you. I couldn't help but wonder if Andreas lived by that device himself.
When we returned from the village, we found our usual afternoon tranquility. The villa and its gardens was blanketed in the gentle embrace of Mediterranean warmth. Ann needed to lie down a while, so she left me alone in the living room, retreating to our air-conditioned bedroom for an afternoon nap. Alone, I felt a compelling tug to head outside and enjoy the tranquility of the surroundings.
In the sweltering heat of midday, the air around the tranquil pool became thick with longing, as if it concealed a hidden burning ember. I leaned on the smooth wrought iron railing of the tiled terrace, my gaze fixed intently on the figure of Andreas poised at the far end, diligently sweeping leaves from the surface of the tranquil water under the beat of the sultry Mediterranean sun. He was wearing a tank-top and tight navy-blue shorts that revealed the sculpted muscles of his toned frame, the sheen of sweat adding to his allure as he moved with an effortless grace. Andreas had me utterly transfixed, and I was powerless in my compulsion to watch him. A sense of depravity had begun festering within me; I could no longer quell the lustful desire that coursed its way through my veins. It was long ago that Ann had held any attraction to me. She was a shell of her former self. And with each sip of the ice-cold ouzo, I grew more disenchanted with the faded allure of my marriage, the cracks that had long-ago formed on the surface, now yawning chasms threatening to swallow me whole.
My obsessive gaze followed Andreas as he bent over at the waist to clean the pool filter, exposing the skin of the small of his back. I took a step back, into the shadows of the balcony so that I could keep watching. I could hardly breathe as he removed his tank top, revealing the muscles in his back, tight and tanned. He began to work the filter on the pool, the movement exaggerated by the sweat running down his tanned chest and arms. I felt myself grow harder, my cock straining against my briefs as I kept watching. He moved to the other side of the pool to continue cleaning, giving me a perfect view of his muscular butt inside the shorts as he bent over. I licked my lips, feeling a growing throbbing between my legs. Andreas' muscles flexed and rippled as he worked, a sheen of sweat glistening on his tanned skin. My eyes locked onto his chest, transfixed by the sight of his rippling abs, taut pecs, and the dark, curly hair that trailed downwards, disappearing beneath the waistband of those tight shorts. He was in the prime of his youth, every inch of him radiating energy and strength. I imagined myself tracing the curve of his muscular arms to the small birthmark near his left elbow.
"Is it here you are, honey?"
Ann's voice pulled me out of my daze, yanking me back to the present moment. I shifted my focus from the pool and Andreas to her.
"Yes, Ann, I'm here," I replied, turning to give her a half-hearted smile.
She was standing at the door of the terrace with a towel wrapped around her like a protective shield. Her face contorted in a scowl, pulling wrinkles across her brow.
"I feel so useless today," she admitted, then made her way to a chaise longue. "I'm tired again."
My hardon was still prominent from the erotic show I had just witnessed. My mind was still awash with images of Andreas' raw, masculine form. I tried to adjust myself discreetly, feeling the discomfort of my wife's presence.
"Are you alright, Clive?" Ann's gaze examined me with concern.
Unsure if she could sense the forbidden notions brewing inside me, or if I had lost all my skill at concealing my emotions, I hastily changed the subject.
"Of course, dear. I thought I would take a walk on the grounds." I said quickly, steering the conversation away from the precarious path it started to tread.
The next few days, my obsession with Andreas intensified. I spent countless hours by the glistening pool, stealing glances at him as often as I dared. He continued to go about his duties, blissfully unaware of the firestorm he ignited in me every single time our eyes met. Our interactions confined themselves to the perfunctory: 'Good morning, Sir,' or 'Would you like another glass of wine, Madam?' - questions delivered with friendly courtesy, his deep, accented voice lancing through me like a tantalizing whisper of forbidden fruit.
One evening, as I was walking back from the beach, I heard the sounds from the outdoor shower near the pool house. My heart raced, and I cautiously approached it. The curtain had billowed just enough to reveal Andreas tanned, muscular silhouette through the fine drizzle. Unable to resist that temptation, I stood there transfixed, watching him as water cascaded over him leaving rivulets down his hard body. I watched as it glistened in his hairy chest, the droplets lingering in the patch of curly hair just above the waistline of his pale blue swim shorts. He reached up and raked his hands through his soaked hair, the muscles in his arm rippling with the movement.
Seeing him there, almost naked and so vulnerable, I felt a fire lit under my skin. My mouth was dry as parchment, as I took in the sight, every curve and contour of his athletic build ingrained in my mind. I don't think I had ever been this aroused. It was animalistic and raw, but I knew I had to contain myself. I took a deep breath and silently moved away, retreating back to me and Ann's room without being noticed. Once inside, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, trying to steady my erratic breathing. Each time I closed my eyes, fleeting images of Andreas' wet body danced in my mind, sending a ripple of desire from the base of my spine all the way to the tip of my fingers.
That evening, after dinner, I tried to lose myself in reading the Odyssey, hoping the words of Homer would divert my indecent thoughts. But as I read about s the young Telemachos, waiting for his father to return from sea, the description only reminded me of Andreas, and when I closed my eyes, it was his face that I saw. Ann was already asleep, helped by her pills, no doubt. Through the partly opened door, I could hear her steady breathing, her chest rising and falling rhythmically under the pale sheet. I gently closed the door to our room and stepped out on the balcony, into the warm embrace of the night. I had another drink in my hand, the coolness of the alcohol emboldening me. Throw away the anchor. The words reverberated in my mind. I couldn't deny it any longer. I had always been drawn to men, yearning for that masculinity and power. I glanced down at the pool house, where the shadows were now cloaking Andreas quarters. I hesitated, the fear of discovery lacing my veins. Finally, I made up my mind. I walked barefoot down the steps, my heart thundering in my chest. The door was slightly ajar, sending a weak light flickering across the room. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open, my senses alerting as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Moonlight spilled through the tiny window, casting an ethereal glow upon the one-room dwelling.
Andreas was asleep in the center of the room, his muscular form sprawled out across the narrow bed. The sheets had left his sinewy torso bare, displaying a carpet of dark hair that trailed downwards in a northerly direction. For a brief moment, I stood transfixed by his pure masculinity. I could scent it in the air. As I approached his bed, my eyes were once more locked onto his chest, and the nipples that adorned it. They were small, dark, and taut - protruding from the fleshy mounds of his pecs. His chest hair was short and curly, slicked down by the sweat that still clung to his body. The defined muscles of his abdomen rippled with every breath he took, as if inviting me to explore further.
I reached out a trembling hand, and gently brushed it against his chest. He stirred at my touch, as I moved my fingers down to his nipple, tracing lazy circles around it. He arched into my touch with a low moan, and I could no longer deny the hunger that had built up inside me for so long. Unable to control myself any longer, I leaned down and pressed my lips against his nipple. The taste of his sweat and musk filled my senses, igniting a primal hunger deep inside me. I swirled my tongue around the hard peak, teasing and tormenting him with every lap, as a dark, filthy hunger coursed through me like a tidal wave. His breaths came in ragged gasps as I continued to explore his body, my lips trailing down the planes of his taut chest.
With my heart hammering in time with his, I grasped the bedsheets and tugged them down, exposing his lower half. The sight that greeted me was incredibly arousing - a dark trail of hair led from his navel and disappeared beneath the waistband of his white boxer shorts. His legs were long and athletic, the muscles tensing and releasing as he shifted in his sleep. I stared at him, unable to move, before the weight of my desire grew too heavy to bear. My fingers trembled as I reached out and traced them gently along the outline of his hipbone, a gasp escaping my lips at the feeling of his warm skin beneath my fingertips. He was a work of art, with a defined v-line that disappeared temptingly beneath the fabric. I could feel the heat from his crotch on my hand. I gently caressed the outline of his cock, wondering what it would look like, hard and erect. I wanted him, more than I had ever wanted anyone. My fingers moved up to his navel, tracing a lazy path over the indents of his hard muscles. I could feel his breaths getting shorter as my exploration continued, and I decided to risk everything, moving my hand lower still. My fingers brushed against the soft material of his boxers, and I felt his cock twitch under my touch. A wave of guilt washed over me, but I ignored it, focused instead on the heated pleasure building inside me.
With renewed resolve, I gathered the material of Andreas white boxers and pulled them down his thighs, revealing a throbbing erection that was red purple in places. I wasted no time before wrapping my hand around his thick shaft, savoring the feeling of his silkiness under my fingers as my fingertips gently grazed his velvety skin. A sharp intake of breath from Andreas spurred me on further, and I slowly began to pump my hand along his length, fascinated by how hard he'd become so quickly. Reluctantly, I released it so that I could pull down my own shorts and carefully slide into the bed, my body hovering over his. He was still asleep , unaware of the new presence in his bed. Carefully, I lifted myself back up, and once again gripped his cock. This time, however, I did not simply touch it; instead, I leaned down and wrapped my lips around his tip.
Andreas stirred beneath me but was quickly silenced by my mouth. I took more of him in, relishing the feeling of him hardening further on my tongue. He tasted musky and salty, but also sweet â€" almost like sea water mixed with honey. I ran my tongue around his head, tasting the pre-cum that was leaking from the tip, and I couldn't help but moan. It had been so long since I felt a man's cock in my mouth and Andreas was easily the largest and most beautiful I had ever seen. As I sucked him, my hand reached down to massage his balls. They were plump and heavy, and I could feel the tension building up as I lightly tugged them. His perineum was moist and dark with hair as I traced it with my fingers, feeling the urgency building within Andreas as I drew closer to my goal. The scent of salt and manhood filled the room as the first clear drops of precum escaped from the slit at the tip of his cock. His breath had grown shallow and fast. I didn't want to wait any longer; my hand left his balls to encircle his cock, stroking him with purpose and intent. With the other, I gently probed his anus, circling the puckered ring with my finger.
"Fuck," Andreas groaned at the sudden intrusion.
I quickly eased my finger in and out, lubricating it with his slickness. He bucked his hips upwards, seeking more contact as a low growl emanated from somewhere deep in his chest. I felt his cock twitch in my mouth, and I sucked him deeper, hungrily devouring the inches he offered me. With my free hand, I wrapped it around the base of his shaft, fingers entwined with thick, soft hair as I set a steady pace. His eyes fluttered open, revealing a golden hue under the dim light filtering in from the window.
"What the hell are you doing?" he gasped, eyes growing wide.
I didn't respond, too enthralled with his powerful form beneath me. I wanted him. I needed him. I pushed my finger deeper into his tight opening, rotating it in small circles to stretch him and prepare him for what was to come.
"Jesus Christ," he groaned, gripping the sheets under him.
I wrapped my lips around his swollen tip again, savoring the taste of his arousal as it slid down my throat. At the same time, I worked his opening, making sure he didn't think, just felt.
"We shouldn't do this", he said, his voice shaky.
But his words were devoid of genuine resistance. His body's response told me otherwise. His cock throbbed, and his muscles tensed. I felt his channel tightening around my finger. He was holding on by a thread, struggling to maintain control. I looked down to see him gazing up at me, his slight stubble shimmering in the dim light of the room. His lips were slightly parted, his breaths shallow and quick. Leaning towards him, I pressed my lips against his. They were warm and soft, responding to mine as I traced my tongue over the fullness of his bottom lip. He opened his mouth in a soft gasp, allowing me to delve in, exploring the recesses of his mouth. My hand was busy with his cock, my fingers gripping it tightly, coaxing it harder and harder.
"Fuck," I grunted, breaking away from the kiss. "I can't fucking resist you."
"Clive, please...what are we doing?"
"I need you," I growled.
"I have never..." he whimpered beneath me.
His words sent a ripple of guilt down my spine, but my desire for him was even stronger. I wanted to taste him, to feel him, to make him lose control. I increased the rhythm of my fingers inside him, curling them upwards to rub against that sensitive spot that I knew would drive him wild.
His eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth falling agape in a silent moan.
"Fuck, Clive," he gasped, his fingers pulling at my hair as I plunged my tongue deep into his mouth.
I added a second finger, feeling his ass clench and relax around me, shivering with pleasure as I explored him. My cock had a life of its own, pressing against my underwear with an insistence I couldn't ignore any longer.
I looked at his flushed face, and I knew I wanted him more than anything else. I pulled my fingers out of him, watching as his ass tightened in protest, and then I ran my hand over his hairy chest. His body was youthful, unblemished and mine for the taking. I pushed my underwear down over my hips , letting my heavy erection swing free. I could feel the heat radiating from him as I moved my hand down his taut stomach and grasped onto my throbbing member. Andreas looked up at me with a mixture of wonder and fear, but his body betrayed him. His own erection jutted out from his body, red and desperate for attention. I traced its length with a finger, then down to his balls. Andreas shivered as I gently tugged at them, teasing him. Now that I had him right where I wanted him, the last of my reservations began to crumble away.
"I want you," I whispered. "Fuck, you're so beautiful, I can't resist you anymore."
"What about your wife?" Andreas asked, barely able to catch his breath.
I smirked. Ann was so far from my mind right now. I trailed the sensitive underside of his balls.
"She doesn't need to know," I whispered, leaning in closer to him. "Besides, she has nothing of what you can give me."
His eyes grew wide as I wrapped my hand around his shaft again and began to pump him fervently. A desire I hadn't felt in years took control of me, and I had to have him. Desperate for him, I lined up the head of my cock with his entrance and pushed - he was tight, but I managed to sink just the tip of myself inside of him.
"Jesus fucking Christ, man, you're really fucking doing this," he stammered as I tried to push deeper inside him.
He was resisting me, trying to push back against me but his body was not ready for the violation. I knew I had to take it slow, although it was a challenge with my cock throbbing and leaking precum. I wanted to force myself inside him as deep as I could, but I didn't want to hurt him. I softened my gaze, staring deep into his eyes while I reached gently around his achingly hard cock. He moaned and relaxed, and I took that as my cue to ease myself deeper inside him.
Slowly, I pushed my hips forward. Andreas' body tensed up against mine, his throat doing a silent scream as I breached his tight hole. But soon, he relaxed, opening up to me in a way I had never dreamt he would. His face contorted, his jaw tense, as I took full possession of him. I could feel him shivering underneath me, with my body buried deep in his. Our breaths were quick, panting, as our bodies soon began to synchronize their movements. I reached for his aching cock.
"You like this, don't you?" I growled in his ear. "You feel so fucking good, Andreas."
My words had their effect on Andreas. He relaxed, allowing me to push even deeper inside him, driving the air from his lungs with a gasp. I could feel him trembling beneath me, helpless to resist the intrusion. I was in complete control, and it was intoxicating. I began to withdraw, pulling myself nearly out before plunging back into him. He cried out, a strangled sound that was half surprise and half pleasure.
At that moment, his eyes flew open as he felt my entire length slide into him fully. I was lost in his exquisite body, his musky scent filling my nostrils and his hot skin rubbing against mine. I stared into his eyes, drinking him in with all my senses. His chest rose and fell with every panicked breath he took. The muscles of his abs contracted and relaxed, his entire body tensing and releasing as I drove myself deeper into him. The hair that covered his body was dark, almost black. It was so soft to touch, like a thick pelt against my fingers as I explored his form. I lifted his legs, resting them on my shoulders, and buried myself deeper inside him. It was tighter than anything I had ever experienced, and I grunted in pleasure as I began to fuck him mercilessly, achieving a rhythm and pace that spoke to the base parts of my being.
"Kiss me," he gasped, his deep brown eyes pleading.
Our mouths found each other. it was a wild, unhinged kiss, two men lost in the moment. I could feel his tongue explore my mouth; his hands grip my butt tightly as I slammed against his body. I could feel his lips parting in pleasure as I hit all his spots. His own arousal was evident, his erect member bumping and sliding against my lower abs as I thrust into him. Our breaths intermingled hot and heavy, a mixture of salty sweat and pure masculine lust. My tongue delved into his mouth in the rhythm of my thrusts.
I could feel his erection twitch and jerk as I pounded him relentlessly, a sign that he was getting close. I broke the kiss, my lips leaving a wet, wanton trail along his jawline, before I sucked on his earlobe and nipped at the sensitive skin behind it. He gasped and moaned, throwing his head back as I bit down harder, marking him. His entire frame trembled with pleasure. I could feel him reaching his breaking point, and my entire focus shifted to pushing him over the edge. My rhythm increased, my hips pistoning in and out of him with unimaginable fervor, my pelvis smacking against his ass with every thrust. I gripped his thighs tightly, pulling him closer with each pump, determined to consume him entirely. Andreas' head rolled wildly, as his mouth fell open in gasps. His body was slicked with sweat, glistening and gleaming under the dull light of the window.
"Oh god, oh god", he wailed beneath me, his body shaking uncontrollably as I felt the pressure of his release build up.
I knew I had him. I let go of his thighs, pulling my cock out of him inch by inch, relishing the feeling of him clenching around me as I did so. His gasps turned into strangled cries, and soon I was rewarded with the sight of his cock spurting hot jets of cum all over his heaving chest - droplets splattering against his wet skin with an audible sizzle.
I watched, enraptured, as his muscles tensed and relaxed in quick succession, the picture of pure, unadulterated ecstasy.
It was my turn. I gripped my cock hard and began to pump it fiercely. My hips bucked and jerked uncontrollably as my climax came upon me with an intensity that took my breath away. I shouted in pleasure as my entire being was consumed by a searing wave of ecstasy.
My hips bucked wildly, adding speed to my strokes as I felt myself gradually coming undone. Time seemed to stand still, my vision dimmed, and all I could focus on was the pleasure I was experiencing. Every beat of my heart echoed in my temples as I rode the crest of an orgasm I had not felt in years.
With a guttural growl, I felt my release erupt from me, spurting hot and heavy, painting Andreas' chest in streaks of white. I watched as the jets hit him, his body jolting with every spasm. Cum splattered all over his muscular chest, matting furry strands of hair together, running down his stomach and pooling in the grooves of his v-line abs. His hairless shaft lay flat on his stomach, just starting to get soft. My own cock, still hard, twitched at the sight of his release. I didn't want to waste a drop of that lustful perfection, so I scooped some up off his chest with two fingers and brought it up to his mouth.
"Open up," I demanded, low and rough.
Andreas whimpered, his mouth parting under the command. I dipped two fingers into his hot, wet mouth, letting him taste my salty essence of me, mixed with his own cum. He sucked on my fingers, his tongue twirling around them, as if trying to savor every bit of me. The sensation was unbearably erotic, a reminder of the pleasure I had just experienced, the intense climax that had rocked my world. I pulled my fingers out of his mouth, watching as his lips closed around them, reluctant to let go.
I lay down beside him, my hand resting on his hairy chest, feeling his heartbeat gradually slowing down. His breath was still quick and fast, but it was returning to normal. We lay there in silence, listening to the sound of our combined panting, the occasional sighs and whimpers that escaped from his lips. I wanted to stay there forever. I wanted him forever. And I had the means to make that happen.