Chapter Twenty-Four
Evan lays out the blanket on the sandy beach.
Just out of eyeshot of the bright lights that keep the property illuminated until bedtime, this place is one of my favorites to come out to when I just need to watch the sun set, stargaze, and get my mind right.
It’s a cozy little cove that Morgan knows to keep a secret from all the campers, because I have so few spots that are quiet and secluded like this.
I work on getting us a campfire started in the makeshift ring I made years ago—a simple thing thrown together with bigger rocks I hauled out of the lake. There’s always driftwood around here to burn. After each winter, it seems a new supply is always washed up.
I feel like I’m letting Evan into one of my little sanctuaries by bringing him to mine and Morgs’ little calm oasis.
The only other person we’ve ever allowed here is Ryann—well, some of her ashes, anyway.
Morgs and I often come here, if we just want to chat with her.
We feel her more here than at her grave.
Tonight, there’s nothing but the sound of crickets chirping, tree frogs trilling, crackles and snaps of burning wood, small waves lapping softly on the gravelly sand, and the occasional low, haunting cry of the loons.
The cooler night air and the slight breeze that rustles the leaves on the nearby stand of birch and maple trees is just enough to cut through the oppressiveness of the early-July humidity.
“This is nice,” Evan hums quietly, pulling me down on the blanket next to him. “A far cry from the activity up the way, huh?”
“Oh gosh, yes. I used to come out here in the mornings and sip my coffee and do a little journaling. I tried some yoga, but I don’t really think I’ve got the flow thing down.
Turned into chaos stretching, a realization that I’m not as flexible as when I was a cheerleader, and a poor imitation of appearing serene,” I admit with a chuckle.
“It’s the effort that counts, sometimes. ”
Evan laughs, and it’s a sound more perfect than all the others. It sounds like some of the weight he carried to camp with him has been stripped away. He may not have presented here with much literal luggage, but he did come with a heaping mound of emotional baggage.
It’s been rewarding to watch it evaporate away, like the fog that hovers over the lake in the mornings and dissipates as the sun drinks it up.
“How are you feeling about everything, Evan?” I check in with him.
“Better,” he tells me. “I mean, I know logistically we’ve been in this little bubble here, but I finally feel like I’m starting to see my purpose.
Colton came and actually helped me with a project today, on his afternoon off.
Well, he and Petro, but it felt good to see him so happy, like he could be himself around me for the first time in a long time.
We took a ride out to go get ice cream together after.
Don’t get me in trouble with the law, but I actually let him drive my truck,” he admits with a grin.
I smirk.
“I promised him that, even when this summer is over, I’d like to have regular check-ins where he could tell me everything without judgement,” he continues.
“I also promised him I’d stop drinking so much.
Apparently it bothered him to see me drinking every night, alone in my thoughts.
I didn’t think it was a problem, but if it bothers him, I’m willing to cut back. ”
“That’s really good,” I murmur, daring to rest my head on his chest.
With one of his arms bent so he can use his palm as a headrest, he curls the other around me, pulling me in closer, giving in to his constant need for touch.
We lay there for a while, just listening to the sizzle and pops of the fire, staring up at the stars—me tracing the blinking lights of a distant jet, silently cutting its way through the dark, inky sky.
Slowly, I let my hand wander down his abdomen, eventually landing on the bulge in his sweats. I cup it and slowly start stroking.
Beneath my cheek, I feel his pulse quicken.
His breath starts to come in shorter pants, interspersed with little sighs and muffled groans whenever I apply more pressure.
It doesn’t take much until I feel he’s fully hard again beneath my palm.
He makes no move to bat me away or try to join in this time.
I think he’s finally ready to offer himself to me, without interference.
This will be the first time I get to pleasure him without it being something mutual we’re doing together.
We’ve jerked each other off, and we’ve frotted, but he’s never let me just spend some unrequited time experiencing him for myself.
Similar to how I felt like I always had to perform for repayment, it’s like he just can’t let himself go either.
It’s like he feels unworthy of such pleasure.
So, this vulnerability he’s showing me is all new.
This, right here, is not a gift I’m about to squander, nor do I take it lightly.
Gently, I push myself up, kissing him before I let myself descend his body.
I hook my finger under the waistband of his sweatpants, pull them down, and practically start drooling when his fat dick bobs free, slapping against his stomach.
It twitches with need as I settle my body between his spread, thick, hairy thighs. Time to shine.
After I admire how he looks, spread out for me with his legs butterflied open, I flatten my tongue and lick a broad stripe from his balls, up the entire length of his velvety soft shaft, and finally engulf the tip between my lips, teasing his glans with my overly wet tongue.
Lapping at the pre-cum that spurted out.
“Baby,” Evan hisses, reaching down and threading his fingers into my hair. “Oh god…”
I let my eyes flick up to his face, feel my lashes flutter involuntarily against my cheeks, and greedily grip his shaft at the base, while I let my mouth work the tip as I tongue at his slit.
I feel heat flame in my face, since his gaze doesn’t stray from mine while I tease him relentlessly with the combined efforts of my hand and tongue.
It’s like he’s fighting the urge to let his eyes roll back and sink into this feeling, because he’s too intent on watching me work him over.
“Jesus, you suck me so fucking good,” he murmurs. “You look so pretty down there between my legs.”
Truthfully, I could probably do a little better if he weren’t so girthy.
I’m struggling to fit him all in my mouth, which makes me a little concerned about how I’m going to deep throat him properly, and really show him where my talents lie, but my mommas didn’t raise no quitter.
I’m going to find a way to fit Evan Waters’ fat cock in my mouth, to tap my tonsils, even if it kills me.
RIP. Here lies Brooks Gallagher. Died doing what he loved. Choked to death on a BOD: big ole' dick.
Can’t think of a better way to go out, really. The thought of taking him all the way causes a moan to bubble out of me.
“Fuuuck, do that again,” Evan pleads on a groan, so I moan some more, really letting the vibrations add to my ministrations.
His fingers tighten in my hair, and I have to press him down with my free hand to keep his hips from bucking into my mouth before I’m ready to really take him back.
Popping off him, with a trail of spit leading from my lips to his tip, I get up on my knees and strip off my hoodie.
“W-what are you doing? Why’d you stop?” Evan looks stricken, his pupils nearly blown out.
I wink at him, before nudging his hips up, so I can stuff my balled up sweatshirt underneath his hips. “Trust me, we’re just getting started…”
He groans, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Don’t tell me you’re into edging.”
“You’re not?” I tease.
“Normally, yes,” Evan admits, “but tonight, I’ve done enough of that on my own. I nearly blew my load just watching you come undone while I ate out your perfect pussy.”
I can’t help the internal gush of lust I feel when I hear him refer to my backhole as a pussy—even more when he tells me it’s perfect. Coming from him, it sounds less like a toy to use and discard, and more like something he craves and appreciates—something he’s gluttonous for.
His work back there certainly felt gluttonous.
“No edging tonight, then,” I promise him, settling back down between his legs.
I encircle both my arms around his thighs and haul them up onto my shoulders, ready to hold on for the ride.
I lick up his length a few more times to get him fully hard again, and then look up and tell him, “Don’t hold back.
Put both hands in my hair and don’t stop until you’re tapping my throat. ”
Evan throws his head back into the blanket, cursing with a long groan.
“I mean it,” I affirm. “Make it sloppy. Don’t stop until you’re covered in drool, and I’m a sobbing mess. I will let you know if I need you to stop, so I can get some air. Trust me. Otherwise, you fuck my face like you mean it, Waters.”
“Goddamn,” he hisses, “I’d never have guessed you talked this filthy.”
“Guess we’re both full of surprises,” I snark, winking at him again. I let my lips hover a breath above his tip, tapping my mouth against it a couple times. “Ready?”
“Fuck yes,” he moans, doing as I ask and fisting my hair.
Using his thighs to press my body closer to him, he grips my head and I open my mouth and flatten my tongue. He slowly guides my head down towards his lap. As he inches further in, I relax my throat and widen my jaw. Dang, he’s even bigger than I gave him credit for before.
I let out a little choked noise as my face starts feeling the tickle of his dark curls, and I remember to breathe in through my flared nostrils.
He’s fully in, my nose pressed against his groin, my chin feeling the warmth of his balls.
When I attempt to swallow back some of the spit that’s pooled in my mouth, he groans so hard I practically feel the vibrations down in his lap.