Читать книгу Hard At Work - Brad Saunders - Страница 8

People always say it’s impossible to find a decent apartment in New York, but no one tells you how hard it is to find one in Los Angeles. Even if you’re just looking to rent for a few years (or maybe especially if you’re just looking to rent), it can take months, even years, to find the right place.

So many of the buildings are leftover prefab 1960s monstrosities, especially in some of the more desirable parts of town like the beach cities of Santa Monica and Venice, or the trendy (and gay) neighborhoods of West Hollywood.

When I first moved to Los Angeles to work in film production (no, not dirty films, get your mind out of the gutter!), I was lucky to find a cheap sublet from a friend of mine. She was off to work on a film in New Zealand of all places, and needed someone to take over her lease while she was gone for several months.

I settled into her little studio and began my own apartment search in earnest. Six months later, I had made no real progress. Every apartment I looked at was either too small, or old, or dilapidated, and they were all astronomically priced. I was reaching my wit’s end, desperate to find a place of my own before my friend returned from her film, but still not knowing where to start.

I was griping about my real-estate woes one evening as I had drinks with a group of my friends. One of them, a lawyer named Paul whom I had met through our mutual friends, said that he had a buddy named Riley who was a real-estate agent. Riley normally just handled sales, but occasionally he would help a friend out who was just looking to rent. He was young, ambitious, successful, and very cute. Paul asked if he should call Riley for me, and I immediately said yes.

Paul called Riley right then and there, leaving him a voice mail with my number, then we went back to our drinks. I bought Paul a round to thank him.

The next day, as I was driving to the office, I got a call from a number I did not recognize. I answered the phone and was delighted to hear that it was Riley calling me back.

“I hope this is a good time,” he said.

“Definitely, thank you so much for calling me back. I need to find an apartment soon, and I was hoping you could help me,” I replied, practically begging.

“Oh, I think I might be able to find something that suits you,” he answered. I could hear a little laughter in his voice. It was completely charming, and I saw why Paul had recommended him. Apart from that, Riley’s voice was a lilting baritone, and he sounded very fun and lively.

I answered his questions about what I was looking for in an apartment—size, location, price—and we made a plan to meet that weekend and look at a few places he would find by then. I wanted to hug him through the phone.

That Friday, I got an e-mail from Riley telling me to meet him at one of the big apartment buildings on the Wilshire Corridor in Westwood the next morning, and then he’d drive us around to the various apartments from there. He ended by saying, “Really looking forward to meeting you. Paul said great things!”

I was puzzled but pleased. It sounded like Paul had been telling Riley that I was cute, too…and Paul had mentioned that Riley was single. Interesting. Taking all that into consideration, I hit the gym for a hard workout so my muscles would all be primed. I met a few friends out for a drink but went to bed early in preparation for my big day of house hunting.

I woke up early, shaved, and performed all my ablutions with care so I was looking clean and professional, dressed in a sharp shirt and slacks, and gave my hair one last little comb-through so I was looking my best, then I set out for Westwood.

I pulled up to a beautiful apartment building with a driveway right off of Wilshire. It was a great location but looked a little fancy for me. I did not have an opener for the gated parking garage, so I pulled up right in front of the lobby. There was a cute young man standing outside waiting, so I figured it was Riley. I rolled down my window and asked if I should park in the garage since there were no spaces in the driveway. The man looked a little confused but said that the door should open automatically when I pulled up, and that there were guest spaces inside.

I did as he said and parked the car in the garage, then entered the back side of the lobby to meet him. Only, he was gone. What had happened? Was it something I did? I turned to ask the lobby attendant if he had seen Riley when I felt a little tap on my shoulder.

Turning around, I felt a nervous smile creep onto my face. I was looking at a man about my age, in his early twenties, with wavy auburn hair, honey-brown eyes, a golden tan, and a crisp suit that seemed like it would never wrinkle. He was an inch or two taller than me, with broad shoulders and a narrow waste. His suit was perfectly tailored to show off his slim figure, and the pants were just tight enough to cling to his powerful thighs and show off the tight mound of his package, but not in an obscene way. His loafers, I noticed, were very expensive.

He smiled and extended his hand. “Are you Brad?”

“Yes, Riley?” I asked.

“That’s me. You ready for a big day?”

“Definitely. I haven’t had much luck since I moved here.”

“Well,” he said, still smiling with those beautiful, perfectly straight white teeth, “I have a feeling that your luck’s about to change.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said. “Listen, I really appreciate you taking the time to get all these listings and show me around. I know it’s a lot of time.”

“It’s no problem, that’s my job. Besides, Paul said you were really cute, so how could I say no?”

I tittered nervously and blushed, not saying anything else. He led me to the elevator banks to take me up to the first apartment of the day. It was your average Westwood high-rise apartment. Mostly new construction, nice kitchen and appliances, big bedroom with en suite bathroom. But it did not really have any character, the laundry room was three floors away, and the rooftop pool would be under construction for another year. I told Riley my concerns, and he listened gravely, agreed with everything I said, then took me back downstairs to his car.

When Paul had said Riley was successful, he did not indicate just how successful. Riley’s car was a gorgeous Jaguar convertible. It was a sunny L.A. day, so we put the top down and commenced our roam around the city.

Over the course of the day, Riley showed me apartments in Venice, Santa Monica, Brentwood, near the Grove, Hollywood, Los Feliz, Silverlake, and downtown. We had started early in the morning, so by the end of the day, we must have been in his car for almost ten hours, though we did stop for lunch around 2:00 P.M. at one of his favorite restaurants in West Hollywood. Without being asked, the host brought over a bottle of Veuve Clicquot champagne on ice and poured us each a glass, then left us to look over the menu.

I raised my eyebrow in question at Riley. “Is that okay?” he asked, indicating the champagne. “I always bring my clients in here, so they make sure everything is the best for me.”

“Yes, of course it’s all right. Veuve Clicquot is my favorite. I just feel bad that I’m not one of your big-time clients. You shouldn’t waste the effort on me.”

“I don’t think it’s wasted effort. Half my clients don’t even know what Veuve Clicquot is. It’s nice to be with someone who appreciates some of the same things I do.”

That did it. The ice was broken, and as we talked about the champagne, and about ourselves, I found myself liking Riley more and more. Sure, he had that real-estate agent-y vibe to him, but he had not questioned a single complaint of mine that day, and he had not tried to sell me on anything I hadn’t liked. If I had to describe his behavior, I’d say he was being a perfect gentleman, and he seemed to be impressed by my house-hunting knowledge…not to mention my fine dining background as we talked about restaurants around town.

I could feel the champagne starting to work, making me a little giggly and giving me that delightful warm feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was almost afraid to find an apartment that day because it would mean not spending any more time with Riley. Then again, I could feel his eyes on me as I read down the menu, and his foot brushed mine under the table, but he didn’t move it. I smiled to myself as I took another sip of champagne.

After lunch, we looked at about a dozen more apartments. At one point, Riley let his hand rest on my knee in the car, and I let him, discreetly looking out the window as he left it there.

I told Riley the ones I was interested in, and he promised to follow up on them. I’ll admit, I included one of them because as we walked up the stairs to the second floor, I got a great view of his ass and imagined what it would taste like if I were eating him out. I nearly got a boner right there, but I controlled myself, and by the time we got to the apartment, I was good to go again. If I moved in there, I’d have that image in my head every day, and that was definitely an incentive.

Finally, we walked out of the last building we saw, a fixer-upper in West Hollywood, and it was time to call it a day. I asked Riley if there were any more apartments to see, and he looked at me for a brief moment, biting his lip.

“What is it?” I asked him.

“Should we call it a day? We’ve got plenty of options already….”

“But?” I asked. Clearly there was something he wasn’t telling me.

“Well, there is one more place I’d like to show you….” He trailed off. “If you’re not too tired, that is.”

I definitely was tired, but I didn’t want my day with Riley to end. “I’m game if you are,” I replied.

Relief washed over his face as he smiled and brushed his wavy hair back from his face. “Great, let’s go.”

We drove for a few more minutes up into the hills above West Hollywood. I didn’t know where he was taking me. All the buildings up there are houses, and I certainly couldn’t afford them on my film executive’s salary. Still, I was curious.

It was getting dark by then, but the top was still down, so it was cold in the car. I leaned in a little closer to Riley so I would be warmer. I felt his shoulder rub against mine as he leaned back toward me, too. We drove in silence, farther and farther up the windy, narrow streets, up into the hills.

Finally, we pulled into a little driveway. I couldn’t see the house clearly because it was below the level of the road and it was completely dark. Riley said to give him a second, and he hopped out. A second later, he was inside the house and it was blazing with lights. I got out of the car and walked to the house. It was a beautiful little building, with floor-to-ceiling windows, a flat roof, and incredible views of the city from the back patio. I could see all of Los Angeles lit up below me and it took my breath away.

I walked in the front door and noted the beautiful stone floors in the foyer and sunken living room. The entire house was very contemporary, with clean lines, bare surfaces, dark-colored materials, and very modern furniture. The kitchen had granite counters and all new appliances. The bathrooms were all marble and glass. I wandered into the master bedroom and was taken aback by the bed, with a huge white Lucite headboard, and white-on-white sheets like you’d find in a fancy hotel. It fronted on a 360-degree fireplace like those kinds you see in Swiss chalets. The closet was almost as big as the room itself, and it was lined with shelves carrying shoes and cashmere sweaters, and racks upon racks of neatly lined-up suits.

I looked around the second bedroom, and the small office that opened off the living room. Everything was perfectly in its place. The walls were lined with shelves that held tons of books on every subject from design to wine to travel to literature. Whoever lived here, they definitely had interesting tastes.

I could tell that the house was out of my price range. Why had Riley brought me here? I called out for him, not knowing where he had gotten to. I poked around the kitchen again and even took a look in the fridge. There was not much in there except for a few bottles of Veuve Clicquot. That was interesting.

I started to realize something as I walked back toward the master bedroom. I called out for Riley again, trying to figure out where he was. As I entered the room, my question was answered. The fireplace had been lit. A tray with two champagne flutes and a bottle of Veuve sat next to it. And there, reclining on his side in the bed waiting for me, all tan skin, rippling muscles, and playful grin, was Riley. Completely naked.

I was speechless for a second, just taking in the sight of him. He looked even better out of his suit than he had in it. His skin was flawless. He had just a little patch of auburn chest hair that matched the hair on his head and two little spirals of it around his small, red nipples. His stomach was as flat as a washboard, with a narrow line of hair running down the center of it from his pecs down the groove between his ab muscles and down to his furry belly button. His happy trail continued to a patch of light brown pubes that framed his short, fat cock in a perfect semicircle. He was leaning on one of his powerful arms, the triceps curving beautifully, while the other lay in front of him, his fingers tapping impatiently on the bedspread.

“So, what do you think?” he asked puckishly.

“I guess this house isn’t actually for rent,” I said, giving away nothing.

“No,” he said bashfully, still unsure of how I felt.

“This is where you live, isn’t it?”

Still coy, he admitted, “Yes.”

“And all those horrible places you dragged me to this afternoon?” I asked him.

“I…well, I wanted to spend more time with you.”

“I see,” I murmured, flattered but still hiding the smile I could feel creeping up at the corner of my lips.

He started to get up, embarrassed, as I walked over to the bed, but I gently pushed him back down, letting my hand linger on his hard chest.

“I definitely like the view,” I said, nonchalantly continuing our real-estate conversation as I stroked his chest, “but I’m going to have to explore every nook and cranny before I know whether I want to take it.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Riley said, smiling at me again with those big, honey-colored eyes as he pulled my face toward his to kiss me.

I loved being totally dressed lying on top of his completely naked frame, and I ran my fingertips down his bare throat, then fondled his chest and lightly pinched his nipples to pointy hardness before rubbing his taut stomach. Then I brushed my fingers along his furry happy trail and tousled his springy bush of pubic hair. Every so often, I would let my fingers brush past the rubbery stalk of his dick, just to tease him. Each time I did that, he kissed me harder.

He smelled so good, like the expensive Kiehl’s products I’d seen lined up in the bathroom, and his skin was so soft and smooth and warm under my touch. He had very little body hair except for some light blond hairs on his forearms and darker, thicker hair on his legs, though that was pretty wispy, too.

I rolled over him and onto my back on the bed, pulling him on top of me so that his legs were straddling my hips. He sat up as he unbuttoned my shirt, and I took the opportunity to rub every square inch of his lithe torso and wrap my hands around his muscular, hairy thighs on either side of me. When he lowered himself back down on top of me to kiss me, I clung to his bare body, enjoying the feel of his naked skin against my own now-bare chest.

We were a pretty evenly matched pair, both of us young, slender, with a layer of worked-out muscle on us. His legs were thicker than mine, but I had the advantage in the upper body with a more fully developed chest, narrower hips, and stronger shoulders. Still, it would have been a pretty fair fight. I preferred the workout we were giving ourselves instead, though.

Riley was right on top of me, his naked skin pressed along the full length of my body, his hands running up and down my torso, and playing with my dark spiky hair. I was running my hands through his wavy mop and down his warm back, pausing at his little bubble butt to give his cheeks a squeeze.

He started kissing my jawline, then moved out to my ears. I have really sensitive ears, and his tongue performed wonders on them. At one point, I thought I might actually come with my dick still in my pants, that’s just how talented his tongue was as it ran up and down my earlobe and plunged into my ear hole in all its wet warmness. Meanwhile, he was dry-humping me, him completely nude, and me naked down to the belt. My own monster was beginning to awaken in my underwear as it felt the long hardness of his erection pressing down on my crotch.

Knowing he had me in his control, Riley slithered his way down my torso, licking and pinching at my nipples, getting them nice and hard and sensitive. He kept a hand on them as his face continued farther down my flat abs and paused again at my belly button. I felt his tongue flick into the little dent in my stomach and quashed an urge to fidget because I was so ticklish.

Then, using just his teeth—those pearly whitened wonders—he managed to undo the button at the top of my pants and take down my zipper. By now my cock was really getting hard and surging from the blood being pumped there by my racing pulse. I lay back, closing my eyes, wanting just to feel what he was going to do next.

I felt his face press itself against the light cotton of my briefs, his hot, humid mouth opening over my cock, and his lips tracing its length from the other side of that fabric barrier. He teased me by playing with the elastic waistband of my underwear, dipping a finger, then two, beneath it and brushing up against the tip of my cock, which was pointing due north. I could feel the tube of my urethra and my piss slit getting slick with the precum that I had started to produce, and more than anything, I wanted Riley’s mouth all over my wang.

I didn’t have long to wait. I felt him start to slip off my briefs, so I lifted my hips to help him slide them down over my butt, and then I felt his hot breath all over my genitals. He seemed to be inhaling my musky, natural scent, and I lay still so that he could get a good whiff. I squirmed a little when his tongue tickled the sensitive skin on my inner thigh, and then I almost jumped in the air as he swallowed one of my huge testicles whole, sucking it way back into the recesses of his mouth. My ballsack was really sensitive and I got a shock in the pit of my stomach with each swish of his tongue over my scrotum.

Releasing me from that agonizing bliss, he slowly and deliberately traced a course up the curving length of cock with his mouth, licking the entire underside with his wide, wet tongue, and causing it to twitch involuntarily and produce even more clear precum. I wanted just to clamp my hand on his face and make him deepthroat me, but I relaxed into his calculated pace and eagerly awaited what was going to come.

Brushing his tongue back and forth over the sensitive little triangle of skin just beneath the tip of my cock, Riley very nearly brought me to orgasm right then and there, sending volts of electric energy from that minuscule spot to the outer reaches of my entire body. Thanks to his attentions, I was now sporting a raging woody, and it was unfurled to its full eight thick inches. I could feel him sizing it up, wondering how he was going to get it all in his mouth, but I had faith in my realtor and knew he could appraise it just right.

Starting with the very tip, he got me all worked up and trying hard not to come from all the stimulation of his strong tongue passing again and again over my nerve centers. Then he swallowed the first couple inches of my staff, getting just past the wide-rimmed cockhead. With another suck, he was down a few inches farther, and a few sucks more, he had managed to get within an inch of my pubic bush. He was almost there but couldn’t quite seem to make it all the way down, so I helped him out. Massaging his jaw while he sucked me a few times, I waited until he was a little more relaxed and then, when he least suspected it, I bucked my hips upward and forced the last inch of my sausage down his throat. His eyes widened with surprise, his jaw looked like it might crack open, and he barely managed to suppress a huge gag, but he handled it admirably, and once he’d gotten over that hurdle he deep-throated me for several minutes, lighting up every arousal spot I had as his tongue passed over each of the heavy veins that ran down the sides and top of my shaft.

I felt my body notching those first few steps toward climax, so I gently laid a hand along one of Riley’s beautifully formed cheekbones and pulled him back up so that we were face-to-face. I thanked him for his fine service, kissing him full on the lips and delighting in the taste of my own cock on his mouth.

I took hold of his bony hips and began to pull his body up mine until his cock and balls were dangling tantalizingly close to my mouth. He had developed a massive hard-on while servicing me, and his cock had actually turned out to be a bit of a surprise. I thought he was a beer can kind of man, but he was a grower, so he actually had some length to him, as well as some meaty girth, and I knew I was going to have to work at sucking him off.

A little dribble of precum leaked from his slit onto my chin as I gently stroked him, making sure he was completely hard before I latched my mouth onto his organ. Raising and lowering my head from the comfort of the bed, I set to work milking his cock with my mouth and playing with his floppy balls like some low-hanging fruit I had a craving for. They were pillowy and soft, their wrinkled skin completely free of unwanted hair, while the tough skin of his shaft was likewise hair-free. That just made my job easier as I slid my mouth back and forth over its entire length and tasted his fresh, clean skin.

It wasn’t long before my neck got tired, though, so I laid it back down on the bed, and guiding his hips with my hands, indicated that he should fuck my face. He was gentle and slow at first, gingerly plunging his cock straight down into my waiting mouth, but I pulled down on him as he thrust and he got the point that he could give me a harder rogering if he wanted to. That was all he needed, and soon enough he was punching his cock as far down my throat as it would go, and it took all of my concentration to keep my mouth open wide and my throat relaxed so that I wouldn’t gag.

Riley was starting to perspire, and I loved the feel of his hot, damp skin as the sweat sprang up on it. I rested my hands on his lower back, feeling the heat rise off him as he flushed with the exertion of basically doing push-ups into my mouth.

I needed a little break, so I slowed him down, and used my mouth to suck at his testes instead, especially the left one, which was the lower hanger. At the first touch of my tongue, they withdrew into his body. So this was his weak spot, I thought to myself, he had really sensitive balls. I let them drape over my nose as I scooched farther back underneath him and licked at his taint. His skin there was musky and coated with fine hairs that led up into his moist ass crack. He didn’t smell pungent—his skin was still clean with the scent of expensive soaps and products—but there was something else there. Something a little spicy and a little funky that was all Riley, and that was what I loved.

When I had worked my way to the bottom of his crack, I was actually no longer beneath Riley’s kneeling body, so I slid out from under him and pushed him down, face-first, onto the bed before eating him out. I licked up and down his entire hairy furrow, glossing it with my saliva. Prying his firm ass cheeks apart, I got my first view of the tan gulch that hid his pink chasm, which was encircled by a few fine, dark hairs. It was such a beautiful ass, I wanted to kiss it and eat it and plunge my tongue as far into it as I could, so that’s just what I set about doing. I knew I had made the right choice when I heard Riley begin to moan, almost imperceptibly at first, but gaining amplitude as I tongue-fucked him with all my might. As my tongue probed farther and farther into him, I tasted more and more of an acrid note, and I knew his tight little hole was going to be the fuck of a lifetime. Apparently Riley thought so, too, and after a few minutes, he was ready for it.

He flipped over and sat up to kiss me so that he could taste his own musky scent on my lips, then said, “Not here. There’s one more room I have to show you.”

He took my hand and led me toward the closet, both of our rock-hard cocks pointing the way ahead. He turned on the bright closet light and I looked around, confused. There were just hanging racks and tons of built-in drawers, but I didn’t see anywhere to fuck. Then he pulled aside a curtain at the back and revealed something very special in a corner I had not noticed before.

Hanging from the ceiling was a leather love swing. It had a saddle for someone to sit on, a head-and-neck brace, and then two sort of stirrup things that loosely attached to the seat and to the ceiling so that someone could hop into the thing and spread their legs for the fuck. Riley handed me a condom and a bottle of lube to prepare while he got into the contraption. This was the first time I’d ever contemplated using such a device, but I was excited…especially once I saw how limber Riley was.

I unrolled the condom onto my dong, stretching the latex to its limits. Rubbing a few pumps of the lube onto it, I got my pole nice and greasy, then pointed it perpendicular to my body to aim it right into Riley’s wide-open fuck bud. He was firmly ensconced in his swing, his legs splayed to either side, and his ass presented and waiting for me. I bent my knees to achieve the proper trajectory, then I eased my way inside him. His pink little pucker was nice and relaxed from my lip service, and with the lube running down my prick, it was an easy matter to slide all the way into him in one quick motion. His ass cheeks quivered with the effort of stretching to take in my dowel, but Riley gritted his teeth and reached up to rub my chest as I started vibrating slowly back and forth.

I was not used to the swing, so with my first few thrusts, I popped out of Riley since the contraption overcompensated for my motions and elongated my strokes. Each time I plugged into him, it moved away from me, so that when I pulled back, I miscalculated the distance and had to penetrate him all over again. Holding the chains by which the love swing attached to the ceiling, I fixed Riley in place and began to fuck him with quicker, shorter strokes. Eventually I let go of the chains, enjoying the sound of them rattling and clinking with each pump of my hips, and keeping my strokes brief so that I could remain within the moist confines of Riley’s hospitable internal fuck chamber.

Eventually, I figured out how to let the swing do all of the work. I barely had to move as it swung back and forth like a pendulum while I stood still and let Riley’s ass fuck me like that. I basically had very little to do except remain standing up straight, which was difficult enough since Riley’s ass muscles were giving my cock a mind-blowing workout as they squeezed and contracted around my girthy shaft. The seat swung farther and farther, my low-hangers slapping against the clenched muscles of Riley’s smooth little ass. I reached a still lubed-up hand down to his solid cock and began to fondle his balls and jerk him off as the swing did its work upon us both.

After a couple minutes of lazy yet incredible, swing-creaking sex, Riley wanted to switch positions. He managed to extract himself from the swing rather fluidly, then made me lie down on it on my back, the brace cradling my head, my ass on the seat portion, and my legs swinging freely down to the floor. As I settled into position, I felt the warm residue of the puddle of sweat on the seat that Riley had worked up while I was fucking him, and I nestled into his humid heat.

I gripped the two harnesses that anchored the swing behind where my head was while Riley climbed on top of me to face me cowboy-style, then impaled himself slowly on my waiting spear, taking its length inside him inch by massive inch. He anchored himself by placing his legs on the floor, and he started bouncing up and down on me like that, causing us to swing back and forth slightly. Restricting the swing’s movement was quite an arm workout for me, so I loosened my grip slightly and just let us pendulum more freely, enjoying the ride.

In this position, Riley’s ass felt even tighter than before. Though the range of motion was smaller than when I had been fucking him on his back, he made up for it by using all his internal muscles to massage my cock toward a quaking orgasm. His lubed-up tool was ramrod-straight and pointed directly up. Each time he bounced up and down on me, it slapped down onto my belly with a wet thud sound and then ricocheted back up to slap his belly. We both had a cock-shaped lube pattern on us within seconds, and I loved the feel of his flesh slapping down onto me as he ground his ass down on my pelvis even harder.

The swing was surprisingly comfortable. Usually when I was fucking someone in that position, the longer we made love, the more I felt it in my lower back as their weight came down on me again and again, but the swing had so much lumbar support, and moved so freely, I didn’t feel Riley’s weight at all. It was like fucking a cloud. A really hot, muscular, sweaty, sexy cloud. I loved the feeling of weightlessness as we swung to and fro, back and forth, like fucking in midair.

I reached forward and took hold of Riley’s flopping prick and began to thoroughly massage it with both my hands, one concentrating on rubbing the knob, and the other working its way up and down his long, thick shaft. My labors were turning his skin a bright pink to match the splotches of rosy color created by our aerobic exertions, and he had started to produce a thick flow of precum. I knew that, just like me, he was getting close to climax.

I redoubled my efforts, tugging more forcefully on his prong and bringing him steadily closer to the inevitable. Riley responded to my ministrations by gyrating and swirling his hips, pushing back on my cock ’til it was completely enveloped inside him. I was going to lose it at any moment, but Riley went first.

Without much warning, he gave a primal grunt and began to quiver. My first clue that anything was happening was a sticky, wet feeling in the hand that was twirling around his cockhead. My second was the burst of cum that shot past my left ear onto the floor. The next hit me square on the chin. Riley, meanwhile, just kept riding me as hard as he could, bracing himself against my chest and clawing into my muscles as his orgasm overtook him, drops of cum landing between his delicate hands and covering my entire torso.

Each time Riley shot a load onto me, the walls of his ass cavity flexed involuntarily, squeezing my tool and pressing me further and further over the edge. Finally, I could control it no longer. My back arched, I shoved my cock as deep up into Riley as I could and sent rushes of cum surging into the condom. I jackhammered up into him several times, trying to finish myself off completely by punching my cock into him as hard as I could and making Riley moan even louder.

Finally, I went rigid, every last drop of ejaculate drained from my aching balls, and Riley collapsed onto my cum-covered chest, plastering my face with grateful kisses. He lay on top of me in a sweaty, swinging heap as we both recovered our breath; then he reluctantly rolled off of me and led me into his immaculate bathroom.

After we both had cleaned up, we padded, still naked, into Riley’s kitchen for a drink of water to help cool off. He also cracked one of his bottles of Veuve. The icy golden liquid was like drinking sunshine, the carbonation making it even more thirst quenching. I quickly gulped down a flute of it and got a refill. It was starting to make my cheeks rosy again, but I didn’t care. I knew we would be here all night and finish the bottle.

Raising his glass in a toast to me, Riley said, “Here’s to finding you the perfect apartment.”

“I’ll drink to that,” I replied, clinking glasses with him.

Finishing his sip, Riley spoke again, this time a rascally grin pulling up the corners of his beautiful lips, “We’ve got another full day tomorrow. We could be together for hours and hours. I hope that’s okay with you.”

“I think I’ll be able to put up with you somehow,” I told him, grinning in turn.

“That’s good, because boy do I have a great property to show you tomorrow….”

“I’ll make sure to stretch first this time,” I laughed, pulling him in for a champagne-laced kiss.