Page 30 of Summer Lessons

He pushed up and wiped his face on his shoulder, then tried to roll to the side to reach into his end table.

“Where are you going?” Terry wrapped his legs around Mason’s chest, and Mason half laughed.

“Condoms?” he asked. “Lube? C’mon, Terry—they’re right there!”

“Aw…dammit!” Terry dropped his legs and Mason scooted quickly, grabbing the supplies from his drawer before sliding his briefs down his legs and kicking them off. Then he sat up on his knees in front of Terry, appreciating the view while he dealt with the condom and drizzled lube.

“Wait,” Terry said softly, reaching out a hand.

“What?” Mason leaned down, covering Terry’s body with his own, supporting his weight on his elbows.

“I didn’t get a chance to….” He stroked Mason’s chest, his shoulders, dropping a sweet kiss on a straining bicep.

Mason stared into his eyes, warm and brown and bright, and had a hard time swallowing. “Next time,” he whispered, taking his mouth.

He pulled away reluctantly, aware that time was passing, and he needed… just needed. Carefully he positioned himself just as Terry said, “Next time?” with all the hope in the world in his voice.

“Yeah,” Mason gave a sigh of comfort, like he was coming home. “Next time.” And then he thrust carefully inside.

Terry palmed his skin, squeezing and rubbing, finally cupping his neck and holding on while Mason thrust and pulled, rocking in and out in that exquisite dance of flesh and release.

“Good,” Terry panted, squeezing his eyes shut and gasping. “You’re good… so….”

“Good?” Mason grinned playfully and lowered himself for a kiss.

Terry returned it with interest, and Mason had to pull away or he’d stop the whole momentum of fucking for the sake of a drugging, wet-mouthed lip-lock that seemed to have everything and nothing to do with the dynamics of cock and ass.

Mason surged forward, growling with frustration, wantingeverything, and Terry grunted at the impact.

“Again,” he whispered.

Mason slammed into him again.

“Yes, more!”

And again.

And again, and again, and harder, until Mason’s skin ran slick with sweat and Terry’s face sheened with his own moisture, but it wasn’t quite… was almost, almost….

“Come,” Mason pleaded. “Grab yourself, Terry. Grab yourself and—”

“Coming!” Terry reached between them and grabbed himself, the frantic beating of his fist hitting Mason’s abs, but Mason didn’t care.

Because Terry’s ass was squeezing tighter, a giant band of rubber muscle gripping Mason unmercifully.

“Yes!” Terry cried, and the ripples of orgasm in his body jerked Mason hard, harder, hard enough to—

“Yes!” he rasped, convulsing in climax, forced, finally, to close his eyes against the dark-eyed harlequin beauty of the man in his bed. He collapsed, chest heaving for air, and buried his nose in Terry’s shoulder.

Fabric softener, sweat, some sort of oil for his hair… and warm animal, sex pheromones, and unfettered joy.

Terry wrapped his arms around Mason’s shoulders and murmured quietly into his ears.

“That was amazing. I can’t even… didn’t you get bored?”

Mason pulled back far enough to let it be seen that he was rolling his eyes. “What in the hell—”

“But you spent all that time….” Mason felt Terry’s skin heat up as he flushed. “You know… that time….”