Page 38 of Puck Love

“You were jerking off.”

“Unless I’m a ventriloquist jerker, I don’t think that’s possible.”

I gave Trinsky an irritated look, hating that my traitorous body responded to his inked muscular chest, mussed hair, and stupid grin. I wanted to punch him, but I laughed ’cause…ventriloquist jerker?

“Maybe not, but—keep your hands on top of the covers,” I chided.

“Make me.”

It was a juvenile dare, a playful tease. I didn’t have to take the bait. I knew better. I was smarter than that.

Okay, maybe not.

I pushed my sleeping bag out of the way and pounced, straddling his thighs as I grabbed his hands. Trinsky grinned like a madman before bucking me off and rolling on top of me. I used all my might to switch our positions, gasping at the feel of his hard cock through two layers of cotton.

We stared at each other as if weighing options and consequences, and deciding at the same time that this wasn’t over. Not yet.

Our mouths collided in a punishing grind we slowly softened to a real kiss with parted lips and frenzied tongues. I feasted like a starving man, sucking and licking, molding our hips and sliding my aching shaft alongside his.

It was like the forest again but better. The element of total surprise had been replaced by a hedonistic quest to know what it felt like to be with a man. At least, that was my story. I wasn’t thrilled that Trinsky was my partner in this, but on the other hand, he was exactly what I wanted—thick, muscular, edgy. Even better…I knew Trinsky didn’t expect anything from me. He had as much to lose as I did.

I set aside my preconceived notions and years’ worth of dislike, and let my baser instincts rule. This was all about my cock. And his.

“This feel okay?” I whispered, tilting my hip against his, my arms caged on either side of his head.

“Fuck, yes.”

Mason cupped my ass, slipping his fingers under the elastic of my PJ bottoms and boxer briefs. I groaned. His hands were huge, and he wasn’t gentle in the slightest. He pawed at my bare cheeks, pulling them apart and squeezing. Maybe he’d never been with a dude, but he obviously had experience and he wasn’t afraid to try something new.

He made me feel brave.

“Let me touch you. Take ’em off.” I snapped his briefs meaningfully.

“You too.”

I obeyed, draping myself over him before my nerves gave out and I remembered who he was and why this was a terrible idea. I spit on my palm and curled my fingers around his shaft.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s good,” he choked out.

I stroked him from base to tip as I ravaged his mouth and humped my leaking cock in the crease of his upper thigh. Fuck, I was on fire. My grasp on my control was tenuous at best. I upped the tempo, biting his lips as I chased my release.

“Oh, fuck,” I grunted.

Trinsky pushed his meaty mitt between our sweaty torsos and took us both in hand.

“Feels so…so fucking hot,” he purred, opening his legs wide as he fondled my balls with his free hand and traced the sensitive skin of my sac. “I want to touch everything. Is this okay?”

“Fuck, yes. I’m coming.” I gritted my teeth as I spilled my load on his fingers and abs.

I must have set off a chain reaction. He tensed, tightening his grip on our cocks and thrashing his head back. He pulled me against his chest and muffled his roar in the crook of my neck.He was still too fucking noisy, so I fused our mouths to shut him up. He took over immediately, holding my face as he tickled my tonsils, ravaging me from below.

Everything about this was intense…from the press of our spent cocks to our swollen lips and the scent of sex in the tent. I was so thoroughly depleted and yet, I couldn’t get enough. And I didn’t want to be the first to call uncle. Weird thought, but Trinsky and I were always in competition. It was what we knew. This wasn’t post-bliss making out. It was a battle for dominance, and even though I was on top, I had a feeling I was losing.

I broke the kiss on a sharp exhale and fell sideways, careful to leave a few inches between us.

“You know we have to do this again,” Trinsky rasped.