Page 36 of Oliver

“My favorite candy. It’s nerds. I hate mustard on anything, love ketchup. But mixing mayo and ketchup together and dunking fries in them is the best. Mashed potatoes all the way, and I like both types of salad.”

I grin, for whatever reason utterly delighted at the knowledge that I get to know these simple things about him, things that perhaps are insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but tome are so utterly priceless, because it’s him. It’s what makes Hunter who he is, and who he is, is someone I am very much realizing that I never want to stop getting to know. I find myself terrified of that prospect but so incapable of drawing away, like I should be. The emotional attachment I feel to him is like nothing I’ve ever known, the desire to hold fast to him and not let go. I know I should stop this, right here right now, just stick to the sex and stop sharing these intimate moments, because the more we talk about life and dreams and favorites, the more I don’t want this trip to end. The more I want him. But I’ve not been able to do the things I should do since the moment I met him. So with every answer he gives me, I find myself cherishing it, soaking it up, savoring it, and waiting on bated breath for more, always more of him. “Favorite season?”

“Summer. Maybe just because I get a break from school, though,” he says with a chuckle. “And I know it’s hot, but I’ve never minded the heat, and I love swimming. I don’t know, everything just feels slower, somehow, and I like that. The peacefulness of it all. And I love rain, which there’s a lot of in the summer, so. You?”

“Oh, I much prefer snow to rain. Though I don’t enjoy driving in either. But snow is friendlier in my opinion.”

“Friendlier?” he says with a laugh.

“Well, it doesn’t drench you or pelt you in the face, does it?” I reply. “It’s much gentler, softer. You won’t get very wet when it snows unless you want to go playing in it. Rain is just ruthless. It’s all about consent.” He laughs at that and I grin. “As far as seasons go, I don’t know, I think I’ve honestly just been so focused on work I don’t notice the difference much, especially now, working from home. I do enjoy the flowers in spring, though.”

“And what makes you happy?” he asks, referencing my earlier question to him, then drawing my hand to his lips and pressing soft kisses to each finger, making my breath hitch.

“Being here, with you,” I tell him. “I’ve never been happier.”

We spend the next couple of days enjoying the fresh air and sunshine around our campground; swimming, hiking, kayaking, and just relaxing. We have sex every evening, and while I have decided I prefer bottoming, I don’t mind letting Hunter ride me either. He’s a vision to behold when he’s bouncing on my cock, chasing his pleasure, that toned, slender body on display.

On our last night in Baltimore, I sink to my knees in front of Hunter as he sits on the sofa, reading, and slide his Kindle out of his hands like he’s done to me several times on this trip.

When he looks up, his eyes widen slightly at the sight of me. “Hello,” he says, and I flush.

“I uh…I was hoping you might let me blow you.”

He grins and leans forward, gripping my chin and pressing a kiss to my lips. “You may,” he says.

“Just to clarify, I’ve never actually given anyone a blow job before, so this will probably be terrible. I feel like you should be privy to that knowledge before we begin.”

His eyes twinkle with amusement and he lifts his hips, shucking off his sweats and leaving only his bikini briefs, showcasing his half hard cock. My mouth waters and my own cock thickens in my shorts as I stare at him.

“I’m ready when you are,” he says. “Don’t worry about it being perfect, Oli. Just avoid using your teeth and try to relax.”

I nod as I scoot forward between his splayed thighs and reach up to grip the waistband of his briefs. I pull them down justenough to let his cock and balls free, licking my lips at the sight of his hard cock leaking precum. I tuck the briefs under his balls and he moans, his cock jerking as he slides his fingers into my hair, gripping tightly before I’ve even gotten my mouth around him. My eyes dart up to meet his. “Relax,” he tells me again. “Even if it’s terrible I will enjoy it because it was you.”

I nod, feeling my tension ease, then I grip his hip with one hand and begin to fondle his balls with the other as I lean forward and lick the salty precum from his tip, moaning around the taste as it explodes on my tongue. He hisses and jerks slightly, his dick twitching. “Christ, Oli, you look so good on your knees for me,” he purrs.

I hum and lick his tip again, before pressing kisses to his head and watching as more precum leaks out and slides down his shaft, his stomach rising and falling, his cock hardening with each press of my lips to his heated skin, until he’s gripping my hair so hard it makes me squeak. He doesn’t say anything. I think he wants me to go at my own pace, even if it’s driving him crazy. He wants me to explore, discover, and enjoy the experience, not be rushed.

My hands play with his balls still, rolling them and then tugging as I slide my mouth over just the tip of his erection and suck gently before swirling my tongue over his slit. Then I’m taking him deeper, but I don’t make it more than halfway down his length before I feel my gag reflex kicking in, so I stay there, moving up and down on his cock, never taking him all the way in, my head bobbing as I shift my hand from his balls to his dick to stroke the base. I moan when his cock jerks inside me.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his hips thrusting slightly, making his cock slide a bit deeper. My eyes start to water but I don’t stop. I can’t. I want this. I need it. I need him, his taste filling me, the weight of him on my tongue, in my hand. His release sliding down my throat when he reaches the peak of his pleasure, his cockspasming inside me. The thought makes me moan around him and his cock jerks again.

His voice is raspy when he says, “Fuck, Oli. Love your mouth, baby. You feel amazing around my cock.”

His praise has me soaring and sliding my mouth even further down his shaft, my other hand returning to his balls, tugging and rolling them as before. I look up at him as he stares down at me, his beautiful face blurred by my tears. He starts to thrust into my mouth gently and I hum around him, making him grip my hair in both hands as his head falls back. His thrusts pick up speed and I have tears streaming down my cheeks, nostrils flaring and nose running as he fucks my face.

“Gonna come,” he cries. “God, Oli, yes, so good, baby. Gonna fill that pretty mouth.” He thrusts three more times before his cock pulses and he’s spilling his release down my throat. I gag a little but swallow as much as I can, savoring the taste of him and the knowledge that I got him off with my mouth.

“Fuck,” he breathes when he slides out of me. “You took me so well, baby.” He grabs a tissue and wipes the snot and tears from my face before pressing a kiss to my lips.

“Did I do okay?” I ask.

“So good,” he praises, and I believe him.

Twelve

OLIVER

I moan the next morning when I feel a cold wet finger pressing inside my hole and then Hunter’s soft, warm lips against my thighs as my eyes flutter open. I spread my legs for him and he kisses me.

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