Capitulu XI. U Frisgiu
“I can’t believe it’s already the last day before they close for the winter.” I said with a sigh, settling into the chair on the terrasse of the Canne à Sucre with Yanis. “Soon, Porto-Vecchio will slip into winter mode. Empty streets, shuttered shops, restaurants closed. Just a lifeless tree, waiting for spring to bloom again.”
“Feeling poetic today, eh?” Yanis chuckled, taking a sip of his Liptonic.
“Fuck, I hate winter in Corsica so much. I can’t wait for us to move to mainland Europe.” I muttered under my breath, stirring the ice in my glass.
“And where would that be?” Yanis asked, raising an eyebrow, a curious smirk playing on his lips. “Any ideas already?”
“I don’t know, yet. Paris seems too big and stressful, and I don’t want us to share a nine square metre apartment either.” I laughed, leaning back in my chair, eyes drifting to the peaceful harbour in front of us. The water was still, the boats gently rocking, as if they too were bracing for the coming silence of winter. “I was thinking of a middle-sized city, like Bordeaux, Lyon, or even Toulouse.”
“Toulouse? It would be nice to live in rugby land, actually!” Yanis grinned, his eyes lighting up with the idea. “Good food, decent weather, and people yelling Allez le Stade! every weekend. Could be worse.”
“Yeah, and imagine us having our little routine there. Morning walks by the Garonne, cafés that aren’t closed six months a year, proper concerts, bookstores open past six...” I chuckled.
"You know, I’m really looking forward to us moving in together next year. I’m making the most of this last year here before Uni, and honestly, I’m enjoying it more than ever, but the real fun starts when we get the keys to that sweet apartment we’ll snatch, wherever we end up!" He said with a wide smirk. I laughed, his contagious energy wrapping around me like a warm breeze.
“Look at you, turning sentimental on me.” I said, nudging his leg with mine under the table. “But yeah… same. That’s what keeps me going, honestly. The idea of finally being in a place that’s ours, doing whatever the hell we want.” He looked at me for a beat, sincere.
“Yeah. That’s the life I want.”
“So, how is it going with… her.” I inquired with a complicit grin. Yanis shifted in his chair, looking left and right before leaning closer, a conspicuous smile at the corner of his lips.
“I’m crushing on her, bad.”
“Have you… you know, taken things to the next step?” I mischievously asked.
“Get your head out of the gutter!” Yanis laughed with a faux reprobating frown.
“Have you?”
“Yes, yes we have!” He eventually admitted with a satisfactory grin. “Last Friday, after the party, we went to her place after her parents left and…” Yanis began, but trailed off mid-sentence, his eyes suddenly locked on something behind me.
“Clément?” I said in disbelief, spotting my brother standing just behind me.
“Hello, Yanis. How are you?” He asked warmly, extending a hand to my best friend. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’d really appreciate a moment alone with Max.”
“Oh… I, uh… sure.” Yanis replied, clearly caught off guard, his cheeks flushing slightly as he stood up.
“Are you serious, Clément? You can’t just show up and kick him out! Yanis, you don’t have to…”
“It’s okay, Max, really.” Yanis interrupted gently, flashing me a reassuring smile. “I’ll take a little walk. Just text me when you’re done.”
“Thanks, Yanis. Drinks are on me next time.” Clément added as he sat down in Yanis’ spot. Yanis slipped on his earphones and strolled away, leaving us in a sudden bubble of silence.
“Was it really so urgent it couldn’t wait for tonight?” I asked coolly. “And what, have you been following me now?”
“I’m leaving tonight, and I want to hit the road before the sun sets.” Clément answered, ignoring my jabs. “I told you I needed to talk to you yesterday evening, but you stayed locked in your bedroom instead, so here we are.”
I sighed and straightened up in my chair, staring at him with a hint of defiance.
“Right, here we are then. Go on, I’m listening.”
“First of all, I don’t think it was unreasonable for me to get angry at you for sleeping with Ange behind my back.” My brother began, his tone firm.
“Right, so why are you even here? Stay mad and let me have a drink with Yanis instead of…”
“Will you please shut up and let me finish?” Clément snapped; his stern gaze locked onto mine. I shook my head in frustration, turning away in irritation.
“Do you even know what you are mad about, Max? Just because I’m not clapping while you stab me in the back doesn’t give you the right to call me a coward!” Clément shot back, his face contorting with anger as he repeated the word.
“No, that’s not what I’m mad about, and the fact that you still don’t get it after what I told you last time only proves me right.” I replied, trying to contain my barely restrained frustration. “I put so much effort into getting us closer, went out of my way to convince you I was worth your attention, that I wasn’t just this annoying, immature kid you always seemed to resent…”
“I never said that you…”
“Stop lying, Clément, and let me finish!” I cut him off dryly. “There were so many times I needed your help growing up, so many things I had to face on my own while you just watched without lifting a finger, when you weren’t outright making things worse for me!”
“You’re being unfair, I was…”
“Oh, cut the bullshit, will you? It will save us both time!” I snapped. “I never held it against you before, I did everything I could to make things right, but the way you treated me just made me realize nothing had changed between us. Of course, I understood why you were mad at Ange and me, but the way you dealt with it was outright cruel. And even now, after everything I’ve said, you still don’t feel a single ounce of guilt about it!” I added, my brother staring back at me with an unreadable expression.
“What did you expect? That I’d kiss your feet out of gratitude because you finally decided I was worthy of your presence? Well, I’m done. It’s not my job to prove that I deserve better than the way you treat me, and I’m not trying anymore.” I concluded sharply.
Clément looked at me in silence for several long seconds, the moment stretching painfully between us. I finally exhaled, breaking eye contact, a lump forming in my throat after the outburst.
“I’m really sorry I made you feel that way, that was never my intention.” He finally said, his voice soft, laced with something that sounded like remorse. “I know I wasn’t the most supportive when we were growing up. I had my own shit to deal with, and I neglected you. But hearing you say that nothing’s changed… that hurts more than you think.”
I rolled my eyes, almost on reflex, still too pissed to let even a hint of vulnerability slip. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, unsure of what to say.
“It does, Max!” He insisted firmly. “I do care about you, and I wish you’d stop arbitrary assign me thoughts I never entertained about you!”
“I’m not in your head, Clément, but I have eyes.” I retorted with a sharp tone.
“Well, you’re wrong about me!” He shot back, his voice rising with conviction. “I’m sorry for the way I reacted about you and Ange, but it wasn’t for the reasons you think. And it sure as hell wasn’t because I’m some homophobe who can’t deal with the fact that you’re gay, though I’m pretty sure you threw that in just to make me feel guilty.” He held my gaze, unwavering.
“I felt betrayed, Max. I felt used. I talked to Ange, and he admitted it had started way back, since the first time you came with us to the beach. And that made me wonder, did you only get closer to me so you could sneak around with him? Was any of it even real? Us growing closer, you visiting me in Corte, was it just a ruse to keep me blind?”
“Wow.” I scoffed, genuinely stunned. “And I’m the paranoid one who assigns thoughts? Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re accusing me of manipulating you, faking getting closer to my own brother, just to sleep with some guy? And then you’ve got the nerve to act like I’m imagining things when I say you see me as lower than dirt?”
“So, you’re denying it?”
“By Zeus, If you think I’ll lower myself to deny, you’re dead wrong. The mere though that you’d accuse me of this makes me sick!” I snapped, suddenly rising from my chair, drawing curious stares from the other customers. “I don’t get you, Clément. If you came here just to insult me and throw shit like that in my face, then go ahead, jump in your car and fuck off to Corte!”
“Max, calm down.” My brother said gently, reaching for my wrist. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It was absurd of me to even think that. I guess... being paranoid runs in the family, huh?” He added with a weak smile. “Please, sit back down.”
I gulped, exhaling with frustration, my hands a little shaky with adrenaline, and sat back down.
“Max, I’m really sorry I overreacted, I never meant to hurt you. I should have been more careful and considerate, realizing that it was basically your coming out to me and that it was important regardless of how betrayed I felt.”
I looked at him and softened a little. I didn’t want to stay mad or escalate things any further. The truth was, I loved him, despite whatever paranoid scenarios had briefly clouded his mind. Of course, I had flipped the argument back on him on purpose, hoping guilt would push him to move on. I never expected it to take us this far. Clément wasn’t as terrible a brother as I’d made him out to be, and deep down, I knew I should cut him some slack. But I guess I just got swept up in my own unresolved frustration.
“I’m sorry I hid whatever happened with Ange from you, I should’ve found the courage to be honest with you.” I said, my eyes drifting away from his.
“It’s all good now.” He chuckled lightly, his tone drifting back to a brotherly gentle tone. “I made Ange promise that it wouldn’t happen again, though, and I expect the same thing from you.” He added, his voice firm yet calm. I frowned and threw him a mildly annoyed glance.
“He is my best friend, and you are my little brother, I refuse to be caught in any of it, which would eventually happen otherwise, can I trust you?”
“Yes, you can.” I promised after a pause.
“Peace now?” He asked with a playful smirk, rising from his chair and opening his arms, inviting me into a hug. I shook my head, amused, but let him pull me in.
“I do love you, Max. Please don’t ever doubt that again.”
“I love you too.” I confessed, the words coming out as painfully as pulling a shard from a wound.
“Let’s call Yanis back, I owe him some beers.” Clément offered with a wink.
By the time it was time for my brother to leave for Corte, the three of us had spent hours laughing, joking, and chatting.
The rest of the week unfolded in the same fashion. After the party at Bastien’s, and the very public kiss I gave Brams in front of everyone, I was no longer semi-anonymous, and I could feel the curious stares not just from my classmates but also from the other students.
Strangely enough, it didn’t bother me at all, and even stirred a weird sense of pride.
I passed by Antonu and Vanessa French kissing several times during the week, but it didn’t bother me as much. I still didn’t hold Antonu on his promise to change his attitude in public, wanting to play smart about it, but when I sat by his side for our Literature class, I decided it was my cue.
“Hey there.” I said with a discreet and playful smirk.
Antonu looked at me and frowned for a second, his gaze drifting from mine with a hint of irritation. He exhaled and looked straight in front of him for a second, before slowly turning to me.
“Hello.” He eventually answered. I could swear I saw the beginning of a grin at the corner of his mouth, but I didn’t press further, happy enough that he was wiling to hold his part of the deal.
On Friday evening, I left high school in a conquering mood. I had managed to get both Clément and Antonu back to my sphere of influence and was on my way to Yanis’ for a sleepover. I was on a winning streak, and I had no intention of slowing down.
“Have you heard from Brams since he left?” Yanis asked as we sat on the floor in his bedroom, backs against the bed, controllers in hand.
“Yes, we’ve been texting a bit, nothing too intense though.”
“How do you feel about it?” He asked, shooting me a curious glance.
“It’s okay, I knew we weren’t going to marry.” I laughed.
He frowned slightly, I shrugged.
“I mean, it was fun, but that’s about it, you know.”
“You two seemed to get along.”
“We did!” I chuckled. I could tell he was trying to figure me out, so I paused the game and turned toward him, smirking. “Don’t you think it’s fun to try new things without it needing to mean anything serious? Like, I don’t know, skydiving once for the thrill, not because you want to become a professional jumper.”
“You’re comparing dating a guy to skydiving on your birthday.” He said, shaking his head, amused.
“Yes!” I grinned. “Brams was fun to be around, Because I didn’t have to overthink it. I could just enjoy the ride. He was like a wave, not the whole damn sea.” Yanis tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought.
“Wouldn’t you like to have a boyfriend, though?”
“I don’t need one right now. We’re leaving Corsica in less than a year. I’m more focused on my future, my plans, or even on you, honestly.”
“On me?” He repeated, his voice just a touch too sharp, a flicker of panic behind it.
“Well, someone’s gotta look after you.” I teased. “Make sure you don’t get yourself in trouble.”
“Like with Saveria?” He muttered, rolling his eyes.
“She’s no trouble!” He added quickly, flashing a satisfied grin. “She’s perfect.”
“No trouble yet,” I grinned back. “So, tell me, what do you like about her?”
Yanis paused the game again, dropping his controller on his lap and exhaled pensively.
“I mean, whenever I know I’m going to meet her, I’m nervous as hell, wondering about my hair, my clothes, my skin, I always feel like I’m gonna look like an idiot.” His voice was soft, distant, his eyes fixed on some point in the emptiness ahead. “But then, when we’re actually together, it all disappears. I forget everything. I just feel… I don’t know… good. Like, really good. It’s like the world goes quiet and I’m right there, in the moment. Everything flows so naturally between us. I feel this kind of… inner peace.”
“Wow…” I muttered, a strange twist tightening in my gut. “Have you ever felt that for anyone before?”
“No, not like this.” He confessed with a half-smile, almost sheepish. “I’ve felt nervous and excited about girls before, sure. It was always nice being around them. But this? It’s different.” He paused for a beat, then turned to me, his gaze searching mine, almost pleading. “I’ve never felt that much intensity. It’s like… she gets me.”
“She really got under your skin, didn’t she?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the tight feeling in my chest.
“She’s so funny, you know? Nothing like the stuck-up girls at school. She doesn’t look it, but she’s quick, smart, even. Always knows exactly what to say and when.” He chuckled softly, clearly replaying a moment in his head.
“You’d love her, honestly. You’re so alike.”
I let out a faint, half-hearted laugh, trying to mask the ache that bloomed in my chest, torn between the tenderness I felt for him, genuinely happy he’d found someone who made him feel so alive, and the quiet, gnawing fear that I would never be that person for him.
“She’s also really hot, which doesn’t spoil anything!” He added eventually, his warm, playful laugh breaking through the emotional haze. I shook my head in mock disbelief and gave his shoulder a shove, feigning annoyance.
“You’re a pig!” I exclaimed indignantly, laughing along despite myself.
“Max, if you’d seen her boobs, even you couldn’t resist.” He grinned, that horny little smirk crawling up one side of his mouth. “They’re so round and firm. And the way her nipples get hard when I touch her, pointing at me, begging for my mouth…” His voice dropped, thick with lust, gaze still locked on the void ahead like he was replaying it in his head.
I swallowed hard, my eyes drifting down against my will. His boxer briefs betrayed just how vivid the memory was for him. I felt my breath catch, drawn to the sight, and yet horrified by my own reaction.
I was also in my underwear, and if I got hard, there would be no way I could hide it, but Yanis’ focus didn’t seem to be set on me, at all.
“And when I do… when I take her tits in my mouth, gently bite them, feel them poke against my tongue…” He went on, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “Her moans are so soft, so eager. My breath on her skin makes her shiver every time… her head falls back, eyes half-closed like she’s melting.”
He chuckled to himself, lost in the memory, unaware, or pretending not to notice, the effect his words were having on me.
I bit the inside of my cheek, hard, forcing myself to breathe, to keep my face neutral. But every word he spoke burned its way through my skin, kindling something dangerous in my chest. I was now fully hard, my white briefs obscenely tenting, a wet spot of precum spreading and making the fabric translucent.
I threw another glance at his crotch, softly gasping at the sight. I had never seen his cock hard, obviously, despite dreaming it on so many occasions, craving for it like I craved for air into my lungs.
There it was, contained in a thin fabric, the shape so obscenely recognizable, the fat circumcised head outlined as clearly as if he had been naked, looking almost even more pornographic than if I had been on my knees in front of him.
His hand settled on his lower stomach, and for a moment, my gaze unwillingly followed it, drawn back to him despite myself. But when I quickly looked up, his eyes were still distant, lost in his own words, his voice steady and oblivious to my presence.
The tension between us had shifted, though, almost palpable. My pulse was erratic, my body humming with an urgency I couldn’t ignore. I wanted to stay composed, to keep my distance, but a part of me was begging to just let go, to dive into this strange, intoxicating moment.
I was lost, unable to comprehend the meaning of his behaviour, and how he expected me to react. His hand lowered on his boxer and, almost inadvertently, he readjusted his boner, the fat head still tearing the fabric to its limits. I swallowed hard, staring at the shape of his manhood, able to tell every vein, every curve of it. My heart was pounding in my chest, almost as high in adrenalin as I was on lust.
Suddenly, Yanis opened his eyes and looked at me in the eye. He held my gaze for a second before lowering it on my tented white briefs, the angry purple colour of my cock poking through the precum stain, the unmistakable proof of my arousal right under his eyes.
My breath caught in my throat, my body frozen, caught between fear and longing. I braced for the fallout, half-expecting him to recoil, to lash out, to say something that would shatter everything between us. But somewhere, beneath the panic, a reckless part of me still clung to the possibility that he might not pull away, that maybe, just maybe, this moment wasn’t one-sided. That what I felt hadn’t just lived in my head.
Instead, he looked back at me and smiled. There was no trace of disgust, no mockery, not even desire. Just that same trusting, brotherly look he always gave me; calm, tender, as if none of this meant anything at all. As if I wasn’t bursting at the seams, heart racing, body betraying me in every possible way.
“I’m dead tired… we should go to bed.” He murmured, giving my shoulder a gentle pat before getting up, leaving me on the floor, panting and confused, stranded between relief and disappointment.
Yanis had fallen asleep almost instantly, his breath slow and steady, his body relaxed under the thin blanket. I, on the other hand, was wide awake. My heart was still hammering against my ribs, my throat dry as paper. Every time I closed my eyes, the image of him looking down at me earlier flashed again, not judging, not shocked, just… distant. Tender, even.
I turned onto my side, my skin prickling with heat. His back was facing me now, his bare shoulder slightly rising with each slow breath. The blanket had slipped down to his waist, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from following the dip of his lower back, the curve of his hips, and the round shape of his ass pressed under the fabric of his boxers.
I swallowed hard, guilt tightening around my chest like a vice. But desire pulsed hotly through me, stronger than I could handle. His body was so close, so maddeningly close, his warmth radiating into the small space between us, and all I could think about was the softness of his skin, the firmness of that perfect shape under my hand. I hated myself for it, and yet I didn’t look away.
The pressure between my legs had become unbearable, the friction of the sheets only making it worse. I bit my lip and rolled onto my back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to will it away, the ache, the need, the images flooding my head. It was no use.
Careful not to wake him, I slipped out from under the blanket and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind me before heading toward the bathroom, heart still pounding, shame licking at my heels with every step.
I washed my face with cold water, focused more on cooling down the fire inside of me than anything and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I exhaled, frustrated and horny, and grabbed my phone.
I noticed an unread message from Antonu on WhatsApp, sent about half an hour earlier. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly opened it, a spark of excitement lighting up inside me.
“You’re awake?”
“Yes.” I answered, keeping it simple. I stared at the screen for a while, wondering if he was still there, if he’d moved on after seeing my delayed response.
Just as I was about to put my phone down and head back to the bedroom, the screen lit up again; he called.
“Hey.” I whispered, careful not to wake anyone up in Yanis’ house.
“Where are you?” Antonu asked bluntly, his voice deep and raw.
“I’m at Yanis’ place. He’s asleep now.”
“Hm.” A low grunt. I caught the edge of disappointment in it, sharp and unfiltered.
“You want to meet?” I asked, the words escaping before I could second-guess them. My need speaking louder than reason.
“Won’t the musg—won’t he notice?” He said, stumbling on the word, biting it back too late.
I frowned, irritation prickling at my skin. That slip.
“You haven’t told him anything, have you?” He pressed, his tone shifting, suddenly tighter, heavier.
“I haven’t told Yanis anything, no.” I replied, sharper than I meant to, pressing on his name to make my point. “But I can be discreet, he won’t notice a thing.” I added, the promise hanging in the air, made as much to him as to myself.
I heard Antonu sigh, a heavy breath that filled the silence between us.
“Fine.” He said at last, his voice lower now, almost resigned. “Send me the address, I’ll come pick you up.”
Miraculously, I managed to get dressed and sneak out of the house without waking anyone. Yanis had always been a heavy sleeper, but I was more afraid of bumping into his mother, or worse, his father.
When I carefully closed the front door behind me, Antonu was already there, leaning against his dirt bike with his helmet in hand, waiting.
Without saying a word, he handed me the helmet and swung his leg over the bike. I climbed on behind him without hesitation, wrapping my arms tightly around his torso. As the engine roared to life, the wind rushed over my skin, sharp and cold, but I barely felt it, too focused on the warmth of his body against mine.
He didn’t tell, but I knew where he was taking me after we took the Piccovagia turn on the Stabiaccu roundabout. I’d been there before, more than once. The place was both stunning and deserted.
As I clung to his back, pressed close against his warmth, a brief moment of clarity cut through the haze. I found myself wondering where this whole thing with him was leading me, and whether I’d make it out in one piece.
I swallowed hard, my heart tight in my chest. I knew it then, the moment to stop this, to walk away before it got out of hand, had already slipped past me.
Alea jacta est.
The bike came to a stop at the top of the highest mountain overlooking the gulf of Porto-Vecchio, a place we call Les Antennes, since that’s where the main cell tower is perched. I climbed off, fastened my helmet to the leather seat, and made my way toward the edge of the rocky cliff. The Mediterranean stretched below, a hundred meters down, dark and vast under the night sky.
Antonu came up behind me, wrapping his muscular arms around my chest, my back pressing into his torso. His warm breath brushed against my neck, a sharp contrast to the cold autumn wind biting at my skin. I melted into his embrace, his scent wrapping around me like a blanket, warm, familiar, and safe.
Still wrapped in his arms, I turned my head to face him, and our lips met, slow at first, then deeper, our tongues quickly finding each other, my eyes fluttering shut with bliss.
Antonu kissed me for long minutes, holding me tightly, his hands roaming my body, fingertips sliding under my clothes, brushing over my skin, each touch sending a shiver down my spine, each breath more eager than the last.
He stepped back abruptly, breaking the embrace, and spun me around to face him. His hands went straight to the buttons of my jeans, and I gasped softly at the suddenness of it. He buried his face in my neck, kissing me there with a raw hunger, while one hand slipped beneath my waistband, seizing a handful of my butt in his strong grip.
His index finger slowly began to explore the tight ring of my hole, my eyes fluttering shut as a shiver ran through me. My hands clung to his sweatshirt, gripping his shoulders like they were the only thing keeping me grounded.
“Oh… Anto… Antonu…” I panted. He lifted his head from the curve of my neck, his eyes locking onto mine, intense, daunting.
“Don’t stop…” I breathed, the plea barely louder than a whisper. A satisfied smirk crept onto his lips, one corner of his mouth twitching with quiet triumph.
As my fingers slid into his hair, his finger finally pushed inside me. A soft moan escaped my lips, my eyes flying open, still locked in his, wide, dazed, and unguarded.
He took a step back, pulling me with him, and leaned against his bike. My eyes drifted down his body until they met the bold outline straining against his chino trousers, unmistakable, intimidating. I swallowed hard. My hand reached for it, pressing gently, feeling its weight through the fabric. A thrill coursed through me as I bit my lip, anticipation tightening in my chest.
He kept going back and forth inside of me, his finger sending waves of pleasure crashing though me while I massaged his throbbing cock stretching the fabric of his trousers. I leaned over him, dropping a tender peck on his lips, before kneeling in front of him, dislodging his finger in the process.
I locked my gaze on his, obedient and raw, and opened his fly. My fingers delicately hooked his brief’s waistband and lowered them a little bit, freeing his fat meat, the foreskin already halfway peeled back, precum smeared around the slit.
I first pushed my nose against it, getting drunk on his most primal scent, my eyes half closed with orgasmic pleasure, gently peeling the foreskin all the way, revealing his whole angry pink cockhead. My heart was beating fast with lust, my submissive brain wired to dive into him, my adrenaline rising up.
I opened my mouth and tasted him with my tongue, collecting the precum as if it were a precious nectar. I then engulfed half of his cock into my mouth and moaned around it, his hand finding the back of my head, encouraging me to go further.
I cupped his heavy balls into my hand, softly massaging them while I bobbed up and down on his thick and long meat. My mouth was stretched far and wide, my throat painfully accommodating his girth, his precum leaking directly inside of it. Antonu groaned, loudly, bestially, his raw pleasure only fueling my devotion to him.
I took his cock out of my mouth and slapped it on my tongue and cheeks, my gaze set on him, my boyish and slutty stare bound to provoke him. He moaned and grabbed his fat meat before pulling on my hair to get it back into my mouth.
I kept that rhythm for a while, alternating between deepthroating his fat cock and licking his sweaty balls while he slapped my face with his meat. I was in a haze, not even realizing how much time had passed since I left Yanis’ place.
Antonu eventually grabbed me under the shoulder and lifted me up, his intense stare piercing through me before pressing our lips together, kissing me and most likely tasting his own masculine scent and precum on my tongue.
Once again, he flipped me around and bent me over his bike, making me grip onto the leather seat, having a good idea of what he was about to do. He kneeled behind me and unceremoniously lowered my jeans, spreading my butt cheeks before diving in, his tongue penetrating my twitching hole in an instant.
I winced with pleasure and moaned, head resting on the bike seat, eyes closed, solely focused on the pleasure he was giving me. In a move that surprised me, he grabbed my pulsating and rock-hard cock and jerked it while eating my pussy.
My legs felt weak, precum leaking from my cock like a faucet, orgasm getting ever closer, when he finally pulled out. He stood up behind me, spat on his hand, smeared his saliva on his meat and pressed the head against my hole.
Slowly, he pushed in until his balls touched mine, stretching my hole wide around his girthy meat. He placed his hands on my shoulder for leverage and started pounding me, gently at first, but quickly worked to power fucking me.
“Antonu…” I moaned softly. He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear.
“Can you feel me?” He whispered, his voice low and deliberate, vibrating straight through my spine.
“Yes…”
He kissed my neck, close to my lobe, his frantic breathing loud and intoxicating. He let go of my shoulder and slipped his hands under my sweatshirt, grabbing my pecs and gently massaging them.
“You make me feel so good.” I confessed in a high-pitched complaint.
“All for you, babe.”
I was taken aback by the sweet name, but I was too far gone to really think about it. Antonu suddenly straightened up, grabbed my hips and gave me several powerful thrust, his balls loudly slapping against my skin. In a roar, he gave one final push and stopped balls deep inside of me, his fat meat pulsating inside of me.
In a reflex, I grabbed mine and gave it a few quick tugs, quickly reaching my own orgasm, my ball sack tightening and my cum splattering on the ground below me.
Antonu exhaled deeply, bending over me, his forehead resting against the back of my head as his breath warmed the nape of my neck. He pressed a tender kiss to my skin before slowly pulling away. I heard the faint rustle of fabric as he tucked himself back in, and I quietly reached to adjust my jeans, my body still trembling, sore and sensitive.
I clenched my slightly gaping hole instinctively, feeling his cum leaking out of my tenderized pussy and leaking in my underwear.
Still catching my breath, my thoughts began to drift again, this time back to the name he had whispered in the heat of it all. Soft, unexpected, almost reverent. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had meant anything by it.
As if trying to brush off the lingering awkwardness, I placed a hand gently on his cheek and leaned in to kiss the other, offering him a soft, almost shy smile. His eyes met mine, but he seemed elsewhere, lost in thought, distant, impossible to read.
Without a word, he handed me my helmet and slipped his own on, shutting down any chance for a quiet, intimate moment to follow what we’d just shared.
When Antonu dropped me back at Yanis’ place, I was a bundle of nerves. I turned the doorknob as slowly as I could and crept upstairs, careful not to make a sound. Just as I was starting to feel the sweet relief of having pulled it off, I opened Yanis’ bedroom door and slipped inside, only for it to suddenly swing shut behind me.
Yanis was there, standing in his briefs, his tall, muscled frame blocking the way. He pushed the door closed with his hand and leaned against it, his eyes locking on mine with unmistakable irritation, even in the faint glow of moonlight.
“Where have you been?” His deep voice was barely more than a whisper, but it carried weight.
“I… I couldn’t sleep so I… I just went out for a little walk.” I lied, the words stumbling out, my tone too hesitant, too fragile not to give me away.
His eyes narrowed slightly. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just stood there, watching me. Then, without warning, he grabbed the front of my sweatshirt and yanked me closer in a swift, sudden motion that made me gasp. His face was close, too close, and he took a long, deliberate breath against my neck, his nose brushing my skin.
A grimace twisted his features. He shook his head slowly, almost in disbelief.
“I can smell it on you.” He spat, his voice low and loaded.
“What can you smell?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though the confusion and rising panic cracked through.
“His cock.”
He let go of me as abruptly as he’d pulled me, the words still ringing in my ears. Without another look, he walked back to the bed and lay down, turning away from me. The blanket slid over his shoulder as he pulled it up in a wordless dismissal.
I stood there, frozen, throat tight. Then, shame prickling under my skin, I undressed silently and crawled back under the covers beside him, stunned and speechless.
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