Chapter 3 #6
I know I should tell him about the sunscreen so maybe he can jump in the lake and wash the rest off, but I can’t.
He wants me to touch him. I bought the darkest shade of orange I could find, and Ezra’s skin is so white it’s almost translucent.
He’s going to look like an Oompa Loompa by the end of today, but telling him means risking this chance, and even though I don’t know why I want to rub the sunscreen on him, I know I want to.
I take the tube and squeeze a large glob in my hand. Bubba sits on the other side of the boat, and Ezra straddles his lap. I don’t feel jealous like I usually do. It’s replaced with this warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest I can’t quite name.
“It might be cold,” I say, my voice little more than a whisper.
Ezra looks back at me, peeking up through his lashes with a sleepy smile on his face. “I don’t mind.”
Nodding, I inch closer and kneel behind him. His ass is right fuckin’ there, jutting out at an impossible angle. The British flag is wedged right between his cheeks. I bet gay guys love his ass. How could they not? It’s just so ... perfect.
I feel awful, because I'm about to make his botched-tan situation even worse, but I’m not turning back.
I can’t. He can hate me all he wants—I’ll take it.
I think it might be worth a week of his sassy side.
I think I kind of like his sassy side. So, I give his shoulder a gentle squeeze, then drop a large blob of tanner on his back.
“I'm sorry.” He probably thinks I mean because the liquid is cold, but what I regret is not being sorry enough to stop myself.
“It's okay,” he says, smiling when he looks back at me. Fuck. I'm blushing. I know I am.
Darting my eyes down, I spread the tanner all over, knowing I’m writing my own death warrant, not giving a single fuck in the process, because he’s making all these tiny, whimpered sounds that are fuckin’ with my head.
They remind me of the noises I used to make while stroking my cock, trying to picture Annie, only for my mind to flash to Bubba.
It always sent a jolt of lightning right through me, and this feels like more of the same.
The same tiny sparks popping under my skin.
Static dancing up and down my spine. His skin is soft like fuckin’ cashmere, and the longer I squeeze, the more sounds of my own I start making.
I try to stop them at first—the grunts and quiet gasps for air–but each time I squeeze him just a little tighter, I growl this throaty growl that makes him purr like a fuckin’ kitten.
As it goes on, I realize I’m only working with one hand, but I don’t have time to try and make my hidden hand make sense, because Bubba pulls me out of the moment just as building pressure mounts in my gut.
“Johnny,” Bubba says, and when I look up at him, his eyes are glazed over. “Fuck, baby.”
“What?” I ask, dizzied, unable to think properly. It’s only when he looks down and I follow his gaze that I realize where my other hand went. It’s wrapped around my unsheathed cock, stroking myself with a tight, relentless grip. I keep stroking as I stare at him, unable to process what’s going on.
“It’s okay, baby. Come for us.”
“Oh my fucking God,” Ezra says, staring at my cock. Seeing him wide-eyed with shock at the size of my massive cock is enough to send me over the edge.
I stare Ezra in the eyes, confusion clouding my judgment. “Ezra.” I blink, my hand gliding up and down my cock. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—”
He shakes his head, grinning like a fool. “It's okay, Johnny. It's okay if you have to come.” He stares down at my cock like it’s a slab of beef. “Come for me.”
“Ah, fuck,” I moan as the first jet shoots out, striking Ezra’s upper thigh.
The sight of my cum staining his skin pulls me out of the moment, and I stand, backing away, but my dick is on autopilot, and it just sends more cum splashing against the side of both his and Bubba’s faces.
Ezra looks scandalized, but Bubba looks amazed.
“That’s my fuckin’ boy,” Bubba cheers, but Ezra’s still shaking his head in disbelief.
“You just came on my face,” Ezra says, wiping the cum from his cheek and staring at it like its existence makes no sense at all.
“You said it was okay,” I argue as my toes curl, and my orgasm fades.
“I said it was okay to come. Not to come on my face.”
“You came on him earlier, baby,” Bubba reminds him, and Ezra nods in agreement, slowly coming to terms with what just happened.
My cum is still leaking out of my cock like a faulty tap, dripping down into the boat, and as they stare at me, I step back, horrified with myself, because what the fuck did I just do?
I came on my best bro, and I came on the face of a potential new friend.
I take another step back, but the bucket Ezra seems to hate is still back there, and I trip, falling on my ass and rocking back and forth on my back like a roly poly.
I try to right myself, but the force is too strong, and I bang my head on something hard.
Stars spin around me and the world goes black.
I don’t know what’s going on. There are a few flashes of light, then splashes of water.
The next thing I know, I’m fully submerged, and a pair of big, strong arms wrap around me, pulling me back in the boat.
As I'm being lifted, there’s a shriek, and the distinct sound of Ezra squealing, “Why the fuck am I orange?”
Motherfuck.
Bubba holds me in his arms, cradling me close, telling me everything’s going to be okay, but as Ezra stares down at me, he’s got murder written all across his tangerine-hued face, turning darker and darker, second by second.
He lifts his now-orange hand and flips me off, letting his middle finger linger in the air.
“You piece of fucking shit,” he hisses, every trace of kindness stripped from his voice. “I knew this was a trick. I fucking knew it, Johnny. I tried to be nice, but the gloves are off.” He storms across the small boat, down the dock, and back toward the pickup.
“I guess the fishing trip is over,” I say with a sigh.
Bubba nods and lifts his hand, probably to console me, but stops when he spots a little of my leftover load on the seat. He swipes his finger through my mess, and without breaking eye contact, brings it to his mouth.
“Bubba,” I breathe.
He licks my cum from his finger and moans a growl that makes my heart race. Licking his lips, his hungry eyes burn holes in me. “Yeah, baby. I’d say it is.”