SALT #5
He shifts slightly, angling to rub that spot more directly, and the next withdrawal pulls a whine from my throat, my hole contracting emptily before he fills it again.
The sensation is mesmerizing, each inch of him claiming me anew, the copious slick making it glide like silk over fire. I feel every detail, his cock’s curvature pressing against my walls. My own release hovers close, teased by the friction, and I kiss him harder, nipping at his lower lip.
Finally, the tension buckles. Eliano's pace picks up just a fraction, his hips snapping forward in chaotic thrusts that hit a bit deeper but still not bottoming out. He groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my lips, his eyes squeezing shut tight as he loses himself in it.
"Salt… fuck, you feel too damn good," he stammers, breaths coming in sharp bursts.
And yet again, I shatter, my channel clamping down in rhythmic pulses, a full-body orgasm tearing through me.
Cum spills hot across my stomach, my moans muffled against his mouth as waves of ecstasy crash over, leaving me shaking.
Eliano follows seconds later, his cock swelling inside me, thrusts stuttering as he comes with a deep, guttural groan, eyelids pinched shut, face contorted in bliss.
He rocks through it, drawing out our pleasure until we're both spent, bodies slick with sweat.
We collapse like that, him still half-buried in me, our limbs tangled in a heap.
No words come, just heavy breathing filling the silence, our chests rising in unison. I feel deflated, like a balloon that's lost all air, limp and boneless against the mattress.
My mind drifts, thoughts swirling in the haze: the way he makes me feel… fuck. Fine. Sometimes I just let it be.
Eliano's arm drapes over me, but he doesn't speak either, just lies there, lost in his own head.
The quiet stretches.
It’s relaxed yet charged at the same time, until it’s time to leave the ‘u’-shaped screen.
When we get up, Eliano leans down and lifts my T-shirt, bunching it up and holding it so that I can only stick my head into it while he pulls it down over my sweaty body.
It’s a nice gesture, so foreign to me, yet weirdly caring. Our eyes meet for a moment. I get this silly urge to hug him, but instead, I just bow my head.
What a shame. It’s strangely painful, I wish I could just open up to him. But I can’t. We’re not meant to be.
A second later, we step out of the screen and discover that the hall is empty! All the other pairs have left. We exchange glances with peculiar grimaces.
As we walk back home along the promenade, there’s a moment when Eliano makes a gesture as if he wants to take my hand. But he doesn’t.
Good.
Or is it?
◆◆◆
That evening I notice Eliano is unusually absorbed in something on his laptop, his brow furrowed as he stares at the screen.
I feel tempted to ask if something happened, because I can clearly sense tension running through him, but in the end I let it go.
Sketches of a few tattoo ideas float through my mind, but before I can get to them, a knock sounds at the door.
I am surprised to see Hugh standing there. He grins broadly and immediately hands us an album. It is clearly something made on-site, probably run through a laminating printer, but it looks decent enough.
"It turned out really beautifully. I picked the best shots," he says confidently, opening it to the first page, which shows the two of us locked in a passionate embrace.
Eliano stands and joins us, curious.
He flips through the album as well. Like before, his eyes are lingering on the photos that focus on me.
Some close-ups show only my chest, dotted with water droplets or grains of sand clinging to my nipples, lit with soft golden light that gives the images a sensual, and artistic feel.
"Wow," Eliano murmurs. "You really do look good. Like a pro model!"
"Right?" Hugh asks, clearly seeking confirmation that his selection of photos is perfect. "Salt has a perfect body for this kind of shots!"
"Couldn’t agree more. You had a good idea," Eliano finally gives him what he wants, and Hugh visibly preens.
Eventually Hugh leaves, reassured that everything looks perfect.
After that, I let myself sit beside Eliano, who is holding the album as if he just couldn’t let go of it, so we quietly go through it together one more time.
Eliano’s gaze stops on one particular photo, one where I am lying on my stomach, the shot taken almost at sand level. My pale ass, the fabric of my speedos tugged up, looks, if I am being honest, pretty damn yummy.
"You really are… attractive," he says in a rough voice.
He slowly turns toward me, and I see that dark fire of desire in his eyes again.
"Are you sore?"
I lift an eyebrow.
"Wow, you’re really direct."
"I go after what I want."
Without my permission, heat rushes to my cheeks.
"Maybe a little," I admit, "but nothing that can’t be worked through, if you, you know, make me happy about it."
His eyes have this crazy intensity about them.
My heart pounds, heat floods my body, and I have the distinct feeling that my skin is about to catch fire.
And then I finally decide to do it, totally on purpose, fully aware of the consequences. I let out a sweet, melodic call. This time it actually comes out really well. Holy shit, am I starting to communicate in AO for real?
It’s the clear call asking him to spend my heat with me.
Eliano’s pupils go wide.
Yeah, I guess I played spot on his primal alpha instincts.
In a split second, he grabs me around the waist, shoves me toward the bed, and yanks my pants off.
My breath hitches.
Eliano grabs my thighs and lifts them high, so my head and shoulders rest on the bed while my ass is raised, offered right in front of the alpha’s face, and he immediately buries his wet, swirling tongue inside me…
Dear Fate. It feels incredible. He’s definitely ‘making me happy about it’!
I arch, I tremble, I need more, more. I simply adore his tongue there, what a bliss…
"Do you like rimming me?" I blurt out, because suddenly I have to know. I want to hear everything about his obsession with my hole. Yeah, I’m weird like that, so what? It feels amazing.
"Very much. Your hole is so pretty, perfect, but… is it only mine?"
That question brings up a whole mess of possible answers, some of them thrilling, tugging at something primal deep inside me.
"Yes," I answer, because it is the simplest, most instinctive response, and the one I want to give him. Something inside me demands it.
Even if we don’t have a future, I surely won’t be with any other man. The police would shoot me first, so… I can give him that. The sole ownership of my hole.
And, oh, how something in me loosens under his touch, something in me becomes his, starts to belong, even if only for a quick flash of impossible life, a flicker of elusive happiness.
When his mouth and tongue brush over my overstimulated ring, making it more open and receptive, my feelings for him seem to soften too.
Shame that it’s overshadowed by the feeling of impending loss. Relentless. Every moan I let out carries a note of pain, becoming a wail, a desperate cry.
Still, of course, against reason, for this brief moment, while the fire between us ignites, I fight to cut myself off from everything else and remain his.
My strange heat helps. I let myself take it, let myself tremble in the pleasurable waves caused by the movements of his tongue as he kisses, licks, and massages my already soft opening.
The hunger grows until I finally start begging him to do it, to enter me, to push into me, to split me open, using a strange mix of words and AO language that spills out of me in ragged, spasming gasps.
Eliano hurriedly pulls the condom on, and a moment later he drives into me. He has no intention of dragging it out, and honestly, thank fuck for that.
Oh. Wow.
This time he goes so much deeper than before. I can feel something inside me stretching intensely, being pushed open, and it is such a strange sensation, a mix of anxiety and overwhelming arousal. Is he going to tear me apart or make me come instantly? That is a damn good question.
This time he pushes through a good eight and a half inches with surprising ease, close to what I managed while riding him earlier, but the difference is that now he is sinking into me much faster.
I feel so full it is like I might explode, literally and figuratively, bursting into pink bubbles of pleasure.
My hips are practically suspended in the air, my weight resting on my elbows and shoulders against the bed, and he starts thrusting into me.
His movements are far more dynamic and intense than before, but it is still not rough pounding, more like enthusiastic fucking.
I get the sense that earlier he was holding himself back hard, fully aware of how challenging his size was for me, but now he is letting himself take more of me.
Even though he still is not going all the way in, it already feels like I have his massive tool lodged in my stomach.
I am being speared, plowed, drilled, my hips rocking helplessly in the air, my cock hard as a piece of metal rod, swaying between my thighs and splattering pre-cum along the edge of the bed.
I feel him, experience him, his size, the fullness. Stars spin in front of my eyes, every inch stretching me, rubbing me from the inside, hitting that sweet place buried in my channel.
Fuck, I am starting to get addicted to being stuffed like a damn chicken on a spit.
"Fuck me, fuck me, Eliano, give me all of it!"
Eliano gasps, like my plea throws him off.
"I don’t know if you’re ready," he blurts out, but I keep pushing, burning, inflamed with want.
"Do it, do it, push all the way in…"
"Sure?!"
"Yes!" I almost shout.
And then I feel it, the force of his hips moving forward, strong and relentless, and I let out a loud groan as something inside me quite literally rearranges itself.