“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” Justin purred. He looked Wes dead in the eyes as he licked a long, slow path from the root of Wes’s cock all the way to the tip, then sucked the head in and out of his puckered lips.
Wes buried his hands in Justin’s long hair as white-hot pleasure erupted through him. Justin’s mouth, his hot, wet lips, the suction. Wes’s cock pushing into Justin’s throat, deeper, deeper—
He keened, almost curling into a ball as Justin’s throat opened and he took Wes’s cock all the way down, until he buried his nose in the curls at Wes’s crotch. Justin’s eyes rolled up and found Wes’s. He’d remember that image until the day he died: Justin’s throat around his cock, his perfect lips sealed all the way around his shaft. He’d watched porn like this, had jerked off imagining a guy on his knees—or him on his knees, or both of them blowing each other at the same time—but this, the reality of the moment, of Justin, was beyond anything he’d imagined.
Too much. It was too much, as Justin rocked back and forth, making Wes fuck his throat. He pulled back, sucking the whole way, then dove back down. Suction, scorching heat, then his lips and tongue swirling over Wes’s cock head. Justin’s hands, jacking Wes’s shaft as he sucked.
“I’m gonna come,” Wes grunted. He tugged on Justin’s hair, trying to warn him. But Justin seemed as greedy for Wes’s come as Wes had been for Justin’s, and Justin flashed him an impish look as he hollowed his cheeks and suuucked, bobbing up and down and up and down.
Wes tightened his grip on Justin’s head, fingers tangling in his long strands, and exploded. Come burst out of him, jet after jet filling Justin’s mouth. He felt Justin swallow once, twice. “Justin…”
Justin sucked him until he was soft, until he was shivering and flinching and overstimulated and he had to pull Justin off his cock and drag him back into his arms. He rolled, taking Justin with him until they were side by side, foreheads and noses and lips pressed together. He took Justin’s hand in his, threaded their fingers together, and brought it to his chest. Held it over his racing heart.
What a pair they made, pants shoved down to their thighs, shirtless, legs tangling together as much as they could.
“Okay?” Justin asked, brushing his nose against Wes’s. He seemed almost nervous, the confident sex bomb who’d gone down on Wes and rocked his world, vanished. He watched Wes carefully.
Wes hummed. “Perfect,” he sighed. “You’re perfect.” He kissed Justin’s nose, the bow of his lip. His cheekbone. “That was amazing.”
Justin smiled, the same wide smile he’d had gazing up at the lights of the Eiffel Tower. “Happy to amaze you anytime.”
“Mmm, the feeling is mutual.” Wes nuzzled him and grinned. “That was so hot. Feeling you come in my mouth.”
“I guess I could let you blow me again, since you liked it so much.”
Wes laughed and then kissed Justin, smiling. They kissed and never stopped, holding hands, twined together on Wes’s narrow bed, as the lights of the Eiffel Tower winked on again, dazzling the city as they got lost in each other.
The narrow, squeaky beds were okay for frantic blow jobs and sideways cuddling, but sleeping together was another story. Wes lasted six minutes before his muscles protested, and he was afraid he’d squash Justin or accidentally dump him over the side of the bed in the middle of the night. Instead, he grabbed both of their mattresses and laid them side by side beneath the window, then piled the blankets on top. He shored up the sides with their duffels, trying to keep the mattresses from sliding apart, while Justin brushed his teeth and changed. They slid into their new bed together, wearing boxers and nothing else, and lay curled by the open window.
Eventually, their stroking hands turned more purposeful, sought fevered gasps instead of soft sighs, moans instead of shivers. Wes rolled Justin to his back and slithered on top, pressing them together from lips to toes, kissing him and lacing their hands together as he rocked his hips and his cock against Justin’s. Justin arched his back, crying out when Wes sucked a hickey into the skin of his neck, when he tugged their boxers down and resettled on top of Justin, their naked bodies flush together.
It was slower this time, in the shadows and the midnight glow of Paris, their hands sliding through each other’s hair and over trembling skin. Justin wrapped his legs around Wes’s waist and gripped his shoulders, dug his fingers into the meat of his back as he tipped up his head and breathed Wes’s name. Wes kissed Justin’s chest, buried his face in Justin’s neck, in the ends of his hair, gripped his thigh and held it to his hip as he thrust. He moved on instinct, making love to Justin with his body, their cocks grinding together against their hard bellies. When they came, it was together, Wes’s lips pressed to Justin’s, Justin’s hands in his hair, Wes breathing Justin’s name as Justin shuddered and shook in the circle of Wes’s arms.
They met again in the middle of the night, seeking each other as if in a dream. Justin was on top this time, Wes’s hands around his waist, helping guide Justin’s body as they rocked and rolled and kissed, and kissed, and eventually spilled onto each other before they fell back to sleep, wrapped in an embrace so tight Wes couldn’t tell where he began and Justin ended. Maybe it didn’t matter anymore.
Paris’s morning bustle woke them, as did Wes’s achingly hard erection. He rolled into Justin’s back, kissed his way down Justin’s spine, worked his way around to Justin’s cock, and sucked him until Justin was shivering and clenching. Wes slipped a finger into his mouth, coated it with spit, and then slid it down and between Justin’s taut ass cheeks. He hesitated at Justin’s hole.
“Are you sure?” Justin whispered. His hand found Wes’s and squeezed. Justin was trembling. “We don’t have to.”
“I want to. I want to do everything with you. But do you want this?”
“Fuck,” Justin hissed. He grasped the base of his cock and squeezed. Clenched his eyes closed. Breathed in and out, slowly. Then he spread his legs. “I do. So, so much. I want everything with you, too.”
Wes held his breath as he slid his finger into Justin’s hole. As Justin’s heat closed around him, tighter and hotter than anything he’d ever felt before. He slid in and out carefully, until Justin told him, “Another. Another finger.” Wes tried, but it wasn’t slick enough, and Justin pawed through his duffel and thrust a bottle of lube at him. “Use this.”
His two fingers slid in much easier then, in and out and in and out. Justin clenched on an in stroke and told him to curl his fingers toward his belly button and stroke again, and when he did, Justin arched like he’d touched a live wire, his thighs spreading wider, his fingers clawing at nothing as he silently screamed. Wes did it again and again, until Justin was a trembling mess, his cock weeping precome onto his belly, his legs quaking and spread, knees pulled up to his chest.
Wes kissed the inside of Justin’s thigh, the crest of his hip bone, the underside of his cock. He slid his fingers out and wiped them on a worn T-shirt before he crawled up Justin’s body and kissed his lips. “Justin?” He nuzzled his cheek. Waited until Justin’s eyes flickered open and he kissed Wes back, soft and slow. “Can I make love to you?”