Neither of us cared for the extra layers between us. I pulled his boxers off, then mine. One of the enduring memories I had of our night with his granddad was when I was able to taste Luke’s bonus hole—a marvelous delicacy of sensation: rich and tangy. I did not want to wait any longer. I dove in. I ate out Luke. I ate out Luke’s hole like it was the last source of liquid I’d find. It didn’t need to be, though—it was water, life itself to me.
When the taste of Luke was all I knew, I took his legs and spread them wide. He arched his back, pushing his ass up into the air, and I grabbed my cock and slid it into him. I fucked him slow and gentle at first, easing my thick length into him. I kissed his toes and the soles of his foot; his light giggles of surprise and arousal excited me further.
Luke writhed beneath me. His fingers found mine and we locked hands. I folded Luke up, then fucked him from behind. We twisted in the sheets for an amount of time that could not be measured, lost in each other as we were. When I finally came, it was as if we were reborn. We lay together on the bed, sweaty and sticky, kissing and cuddling, our relationship deeper, more complicated, more beautiful than before.
