Page 5 of Uncharted Desires
That’s a lot. It’s just… a lot.
My breath quickens as the guy in the front rests his cheek on the sofa, facing me. His eyes are closed, his expression focused, and I can’t tell if he’s enjoying it or fighting off the pain. Logically, I’d imagine the latter. But then again, there’s something about how his mouth opens and closes, how his brows furrow, and when he lets out a strained gasp, the sound goes straight to my cock.
Okay, that was weird.
I shake my head and focus back on the action, but with every shove of the other guy's finger, a strange heat washes over my balls.Why? It’s not like I’m attracted to this in any way, shape, or form. I’m not even remotely turned on, but why am I sporting a semi all of a sudden?
This would be the perfect time to bolt and cross it off my bucket list. Not that it was ever on my bucket list.
And yet, I stay. Maybe I just want to know what comes after.
It doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s not like anyone here is going to judge me.
I gaze over the crowd gathered around, all their eyes glued to the scene in front of them. Some kissing, some touching—other people or themselves.
And then, I almost stumble when I see him on the other side of the sofa. Sawyer.
A soft smirk across his face, head tilted slightly, just like mine was a second ago, his eyes running wildly over the working bodies between us.
My heartbeat quickens, and molten lava flushes through me. Fuck, what if he notices?
I adjust my disobedient cock to make it less noticeable, and I’m just about to turn around and get the fuck away from here when I gaze down Sawyer’s body to—
Jesus fuck.
His hand, palming a pronounced bulge stretching the fabric of his black dress pants.
What—? How—?
I had no idea he was… into guys, I guess?
I shouldn’t be so shocked. It’s not like it makes any difference, but still. It’s news.
He presses the heel of his palm to his, what looks like a sizable cock, and runs it up and down his length, unabashedly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Like it’s an everyday scenario. Like he’s not surrounded by strangers. Like he doesn’t give a fuck who’s watching. Well,thatdoesn’t shock me as much—Sawyer never cares.
My eyes dart between his face, his wide eyes, and his palm kneading, tugging, massaging.
My cock twitches and I’m fully hard now. What the fuck is wrong with me? It’s some kind of twisted mirroring… or something.
I trap my lower lip between my teeth because I don’t really trust what might come out of my mouth right now. I need to get laid. That’swhat’s going on. Get those stupid ideas out of my head. Forget the images.
Forget the image he’s making, most of all.
I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself to get his dick out of my head, and when I open them, my gaze meets Sawyer's.
Looking straight back at me.
My mouth drops open and my chest is heaving. Fucking hell, did he catch me staring? Athim?
He maintains eye contact while his arm moves, letting me know he’s still stroking his cock over his clothes.
Look away. Look the fuck away.
But I don’t.
I force my mouth to close and swallow, but the inside of my mouth is a desert.
