Page 58 of The Summer Intern

My own cock throbbed painfully between my legs, untouched but rock hard.I reached down to stroke myself, matching the rhythm of Matt's thrusts into my mouth.

"That's it," Matt encouraged, watching me touch myself while he fucked my throat."So fucking hot, Casey."

The shower spray turned the slick sounds of our activities into a symphony of splash and slurp, the acoustics of the small space amplifying Matt's groans and my muffled moans.My jaw ached pleasantly, my throat working around his thickness, while my hand pumped my own cock with increasing urgency.

"I'm close," Matt warned, his movements becoming more erratic."Fuck, I'm gonna—"

He tried to pull back, but I gripped his ass, holding him in place, making my intentions clear.His eyes widened briefly before narrowing in pleasure as he surrendered to my silent demand.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted, his hips stuttering as he thrust deep one final time.

I felt him pulse against my tongue, the first hot splash of his release hitting the back of my throat.I swallowed reflexively, continuing to work him with my mouth as he rode out his orgasm, his fingers almost painfully tight in my hair.

The taste of him, the sounds he made, the knowledge that I'd brought him to this state of complete abandon—it all pushed me over the edge.I came with a muffled groan, still suckling Matt's softening cock, my release painting the shower floor in white streaks that quickly washed away in the spray.

As the intensity subsided, Matt gently withdrew from my mouth, his thumbs smoothing my lips with unexpected tenderness.He pulled me to my feet, his arms steadying me as my legs threatened to give way.

"That was..."he started, then shook his head, apparently at a loss for words.

"Yeah," I agreed, my voice hoarse."It was."

“You like it?”

I shrugged.“It’s sexy to me.It turns me on.”

He kissed my forehead, then my lips.“Maybe I’ll choke on your dick one of these days, see what it’s like.”

I stuck out my tongue at him.“Only if you’ve fed me your cum first.”

We stayed like that for a moment, his arms around me, his lips pressed to my forehead under the shower spray, catching our breath.Matt reached for the shampoo, squeezing a dollop into his palm before working it into my hair.His fingers massaged my scalp with gentle pressure, and I closed my eyes, surrendering to the unexpected intimacy of being washed by another person.

twenty-three

Casey

Istoodunderapine tree, watching Matt chat with the campers.I wasn't spying—not exactly.I'd just happened to take the long way to breakfast and found myself frozen, tracking his movements like some lovesick teenager.An hour ago, we'd woken in his bed, tangled in his sheets, and fucked one last time.Now here I was, pretending I wasn't hoping for one more look before he left me for two days.

How was I already so addicted to him?Ever since that day on the lake, I hadn't been able to get enough.

Matt stood by a weathered wooden bench, his long hair secured in that messy bun that made my stomach flip.He gestured toward the mountains as he spoke, and the early teens around him nodded with excitement, adjusting their overstuffed backpacks.The morning sun caught on his forearm tattoo—that detailed mountain scene I'd traced with my fingertips just last night.

"You've got this," he was saying to a nervous-looking boy."Two nights under the stars.Best sleep you'll ever get."

I swallowed hard.Two nights.Two fucking nights without Matt's weight pressing me into his mattress, without his calloused hands mapping my skin.We'd already said goodbye in private—a lovely, sexy kiss, nothing dramatic.Just as it should be for what we were: the camp director and his summer fling.No strings.No expectations.

So why was I still standing here?

One of the female counselors handed Matt a clipboard, and he scanned it, that little crease forming between his eyebrows.My fingers itched to smooth it away.Pathetic.Two weeks of sleeping together, and I was already a catastrophe of need.

The campers began loading into the van, tossing in backpacks and sleeping bags.Matt helped, his broad shoulders flexing beneath his Eagle Ridge t-shirt.He hadn't noticed me, and now they were preparing to leave.It was fine.This wasn't a relationship that required dramatic airport goodbyes.

I turned to go, hands shoved deep in my cargo shorts pockets.Five steps away, I started listing all the things I could do with my suddenly free evenings.Catch up on that novel.Organize my music lessons for next week.Practice my guitar.Not think about what Matt felt like inside me.

"Casey!"

I froze, my heart skipping a beat, then turned slowly, trying to look surprised rather than pathetically eager.Matt was jogging toward me, still wearing that goofy camp director smile, but something softer lived in his eyes.

"Hey," I said.

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