In the moment it’s hot; it feels like you’re being extra passionate and super sexy, but falling asleep without wiping cum off you is a choice you’re gonna regret.

Jace had quickly yanked his great 8 inches out of my ass, me on my back, and then shot his enormous, impressive load in great spasms, landing in strips all the way up my chest, even catching my chin with it, mixing with my own cum that he had fucked out of me moments earlier, a championship ejaculation that ended our championship fuck-session, his svelte, pale, lanky frame dropping and wrapping himself around me on the couch once he was empty.

Romantic, yes, to be intertwined thusly on a couch, cooling down and catching our respective breath by kissing each other roughly, hands pulling our faces together, bodies still writhing, licking, biting, then gently, slower, and slower, and slower, everything calming down, the kisses more tender, more loving, until sleep took over us.

But not Romantic when you wake up somewhere in the middle of the night, when one of your arms threatens to fall off from lack of circulation, while your partner's back has been twisted to fit around you on the couch. Then you're peeling yourselves off each other, stuck together with your combined man-glue.

And that's exactly how we found ourselves, somewhere just before dawn when we were awoken by dull thunder in the distance, which revealed a rainy morning. After groaning and uncoupling, Jace got up from the couch and stretched out, facing me, nice and tall, arching his back this way and that, playfully stretching his hips forward to waggle his dick at me, and I drank in his delightfully androgynous, femboy frame: 6’2”, his body cast in swimming musculature, hairless, with a cute little butt and a cute cut cock. After touching the ceiling with his stretches he bent down and kissed me.

“We should have wiped,” I said.

He kissed me again. “Ohhhhhhhh I love wearing our cum,” he said in a devious whisper, his voice soft and light, and ran his fingertips through my hair. He stood again, and this time bent over to touch his toes. “I always want it both ways: I want to get smothered in it, just absolutely covered in cum," he continued, running his hands slowly and performatively down his body. "Messy. Just fucking spit and cum, hanging off my chin and face, down my chest…mmm. But then sometimes I just want to swallow every last drop.”

"Sounds like someone needs a gangbang," I said.

He mimed jerking off two cocks by his mouth, sticking out his tongue, then giggled and walked to the window to look out at the rain. He let out a final stretch that triggered a yawn. Then he lay down on the floor on his back, stretching more, and I watched his thin neck, his stubby nipples, his flat stomach, that flaccid 8 inches flopping about with his movements. My own cock began to stir again.

“You’re beautiful,” I said.

He looked at me in the dim grey light and smiled while making a few poses on the floor.

“Come sit on my cock,” he said, playfully grabbing his manhood at the base and waggling it at me.

“My asshole needs a rest from that monster stretching it out,” I said, motioning towards him, and indeed, as I squeezed I still felt a pang of sharp pain from his total, utter destruction of me over the course of the weekend. “Besides,” I said, getting up from the couch, walking over to him, stepping over his chest, and looking down past my own swelling erection to see him smile. “If we get moving, we can grab breakfast at the cafe before getting you to the airport.”

He made a pouty noise and grabbed my dick with both hands, squeezing gently and licking his lips. “Sit on my cock. It looks like you want to. Besides, the rain. My plane's gonna be delayed.”

“Baby—” I said.

“Oh, don’t you dare ‘baby’ me—“

“Baby—“

He slapped my cock lightly, playfully, and it swung back and forth as I “OW”-ed melodramatically.

I loved Jace. Not in a deep, paass,rtners-for-life kind-of-way, but we met at a coffee shop a few years back. He was in town for work; he lived on the West Coast, I lived on the East Coast, but we felt the physical attraction immediately, the two of us in our late twenties, so ever since then, whenever he came to town for his job, we spent a good amount of time with our dicks in each other’s orifices. We fucked so good together, but had a mutually non-committal thing—he had a longtime partner back West with whom he had an open relationship, and I was avoiding long-term relationships like the plague, so we both knew that every time our paths crossed, it could be the last time.

I put my hands on my hips and looked down at him one more time, the rain a gentle white noise outside. He really was beautiful. A sharp jawline, a feminine face, pale blue eyes. Short-cropped brown hair. Tiny studded earrings. His lips, which still carried a little of the color he wore to dinner last night that ended up transferring to my cock after dinner, were curled into a devious grin, watching my cock bob above him. And I did want to: I would have loved nothing more than to spit on that cock of his to slick it up so I could feel it once more, but—

“Breakfast,” I said, stepping towards the bathroom.

“Cock.”

“Break. Fast.”

He crossed his arms and gave a pout. “Then I want pancakes.”

I let out a laugh. “You’ll get pancakes,” and I started the shower.

***

Jace sat cross-legged in a chair in the corner of a small cafe, and even with the weather full grey, rainy, and already too humid, he looked cosmopolitan: he wore shorts and a scant tank top, showing off his pale, toned-twink features, his hair blonde and shoulder-length, slicked back. He wore expensive sunglasses, bright red lipstick, and his favorite pair of earrings. He looked dapper, fashionable, and a bit like a bitch.

Which is why it was so funny when our waitress dropped off our coffees and left with our order of pancakes (blueberry for me, cinnamon for him) and Jace turned to me and said, “I want to titty fuck our waitress.”

“Of course you do,” I said. “She complimented your lipstick.”

Our waitress was in her 40s, a very, very well-kept 40s, looking like a yoga instructor, a silver-streaked brunette with her hair pulled back in a tight bun, slinky and fit in a pair of old tight blue jeans and a tank top that deserved an award for best breast presentation. She was stacked, tanned, her eyes brown and warm.

“That too,” Jace said. But come on. Wouldn’t you want to fuck her?”

I stole a few glances to watch her round, jeans-accented ass, even with one pocket shaped like a rectangle due to the phone she had tucked within, as she walked away from the table. I sipped my coffee. “Absolutely.”

“I think we should try to get her to have a threesome,” he said, leaning in, his glossy lips in a conspiratorial curl. “We’ll ask if she’d like to fuck in the bathroom.”

I turned to face him. “When’s the last time you fucked a woman?”

He leaned back. “You’d be surprised.”

“I bet I would.” I laughed. “You could take her in the ass, and I’ll take her in the pussy. That way you’re keeping in line with your history.”

Jace looked around the cafe, as if to find her. And over the course of the next few minutes, I caught him watching her again, and again.

“Jace,” I said. “Are you serious?”

“You wouldn’t give me what I wanted this morning,” he said, crossing his arms and playing pouty again. “So maybe she’d be more willing."

“You fucked me in almost every conceivable position for the past forty-eight hours. What else do you need?”

“Your cock when I want it,” he said, turning his face to me, placing an elbow on the table, and resting his chin on his hand.

"Oh? And if I don't give you cock," I whispered, "she will?"

"That's not the point," he said, sipping coffee, but unable to keep from smiling.

“I can see it now: flight 348 delayed due to Jace being a cock hungry slut.”

“Ohhh,” he said. “Yyyes. I’m already getting hard. Tell me more.”

“You better be careful, those shorts might not contain it.”

“Tell me what we could have done this morning,” he whispered, leaning in.

“What do you mean?”

Jace took a quick glance around the nearly-deserted cafe, some modern jazz station light in the background, then he sank his hand down and readjusted his cock, which had grown into the right pant leg of his shorts, his eight inches just barely covered, held to his thigh by the tightness of his very short pant leg. He let out a little moan as I saw him undulate his hips ever-so-slightly. Jace was fucking his thigh.

“Jace,” I said.

“Oh, this feels…mm-hmm. This feels like I could come so easily—tell me what we would have done this morning. If you hadn't been so stingy.”

I looked around the cafe. Another couple came in, was greeted by our waitress. “Jace. Seriously? You gonna fuck your pant-leg and…what? Come all over the diner floor?”

My own cock was getting quite stiff as well at this, and I made a quick move to adjust myself, but my shorts weren’t as tight, and I wasn’t wearing any underwear either, so I just had a hard rod sticking up from my lap. I adjusted my napkin to cover it.

“Do it,” he said, biting his lip. “Talk dirty to me. Be filthy. You know what I like. Make me come.”

I took a sip of my coffee, put it down, put my elbows on the table, and interlaced my fingers in front of my face. The couple that had just come in were seated two tables behind me, and my heart rate began to tick upwards. “You want me to talk dirty to you?”

“Yesss.”

“You think you might come if I tell you what it would have been like this morning? What it would have been like if I had let you fuck me again?”

He moaned affirmatively, quietly. I looked down again into his lap, and indeed, the slow, tiny rocking of his hips seemed to move that stick against his thigh. I just wanted to reach down and take a hold of it. But instead, I said, “You gonna fucking come right here? Right in this restaurant? In plain daylight?”

Another little moan, as he looked at me, his eyes already pleading.

“This morning. Okay. You were lying on the floor this morning, and I was looking at your tight fucking body, your hot and smooth twink body, you running your hands up and down your chest, sliding them down towards that sexy dick of yours, hard and standing straight up like a sundial—“

He giggled. “Like…a sundial?”

“I’m making this up as I go along, bitch. It’s not all gonna be Shakespeare.”

“Keep going,” he said, taking a drink of water while glancing around and then putting his own elbows on the table.

The waitress moved past us to take care of another table further away, smiling as she passed. We smiled back. Jace even waved.

“And I’m getting hard…” I whispered, “…my own cock is filling at the sight of you wrapping your hands around that big dick of yours, I'm aching for you, so I get up off the couch, I get down on all fours, and I crawl over towards you, because I want that cock of yours inside me.”

Jace let a tiny, aching gasp out, his mouth opening slightly. We leaned a touch closer, and I could feel the animal heat from his body, I could see the slight, nearly imperceptible thrust of his hips in the chair. His breathing was getting deeper. Looking down, I could almost see the head of his beast coming past the hem of his pant leg.

“I’m here to service that cock. That massive, rock-hard piece of manhood. I’m already dripping precum off the tip of my own dick as I start to kiss the inside of your thighs, first the right, then the left, little pecks, every now and then running a hand up and down your legs, feeling the warmth of you, your tight muscles, smelling you, that horrible cologne—"

"Stop it," he said, giggling, but beginning to pant.

"I give you light kisses further and further up your thighs…”

“Refill?”

The waitress’ voice cut through our gauzy fantasy, and we both whipped our heads towards her. “Yes!” I said, almost too enthusiastically, getting my cup. Jace pasted a somewhat pained smile on his face.

“I love your earrings,” he said to her.

“Thank you,” she said, putting a hand to one of them. “I bought them in Austin.”

Jace nodded, I smiled, the waitress stood there a moment, then said, “Your pancakes should be out soon, my lovelies,” and left.

“Do you think she heard—“

“I don’t fuck-ing care, keep going,” Jace said, and I let out a small laugh. He bit his lower lip, and again, I could see him making those small, miniature movements with his hips.

“Right,” I said, a quick glance around, the newer couple two tables down looking over their menus. “I’m kissing the inside of your thighs. Running my palm along your legs’ smooth length. And I come to your balls, those hairless, heavy balls at the bottom of your skyscraper of a dick. I kiss ever so closely to them, and they twitch, my kiss landing on your thigh but with my my face brushing against them, and then I kiss to the left of your cock, to the right of your cock, little butterfly kisses as my hand runs up your tight twink abs and torso, my hands running across your tits, where I use my thumbs to flick your stubby, erect nipples…”

Another little helpless gasp from Jace, whose face was suspended in a look of expectation, his panting now a little more obvious. He swallowed.

“…and I'm so fucking hard, I do want to ride your cock hard and feel my own cock bouncing up and down, I want to hear it slap against your tummy, oh fuck I can't wait to mount you…but I take my time, my sweet time, I brush my face along your balls, and now your cock, feeling it throb, feeling its heat as I continue to kiss and kiss around it and then I just stick out my tongue and lick those balls, lifting them up one by one and then lightly sucking on them, letting them drop, more kisses, god your balls are so fucking hot, and I can feel your dick twitching, your cock is so fucking hard, and I can't help myself anymore. I need to have that dick in my mouth. So I then run my tongue up the underside of your cock, my warm wet tongue, slowly, slowly, and I can taste the precum dripping down its enormous length, I can feel your veins, and now I’m at the top, and I take your head into my mouth, god it’s so fucking big, I wrap my lips around it and swirl my tongue around the tip while it’s inside my wet, warm mouth. Fuck, your cock is so big, Jace, and I need it, I want that cock inside my tight ass so bad, so I wrap my hand around the base of you and start to bob my head up and down on your stick to get it wet, to get it sloppy and wet, to make it easy to take in my ass, because I don’t know if I can take it. It’s sooo big, Jace. So fucking big. Your cock is so hard, so straight, and so big. I squeeze your base and keep bobbing up and down, and then I try to take it all in my mouth because I cannot resist trying to suck this magnificent dick, and it hits the back of my throat but I keep pushing myself onto it, impaling my head on your big dick, until I gag and choke and then pull off it, lines of drool and your precum stringing from my mouth as I gasp for air, but now I'm fukcing cock drunk and I can’t take it anymore, I need that dick, I want your dick, Jace, so I straddle you, holding you in one hand and spreading my ass with the other as I lower myself, guiding you into me, and it hurts, Jace, oh good god damn it fucking hurts my asshole to try and take all of you but I’m too desperate for you, I’m too needy, and I grunt in pain as your enter me but I don’t care because I want that fucking dick, I want to ride your cock and have my dick slapping against you as I ride and ride so I ignore the pain as I slide my asshole down around you, feeling every inch, by inch, by inch, by inch—“

“Unh—“

I suddenly felt something hit my leg. Something like a tiny spurt of—

“Oh my god,” I said, a little too loudly, then quieted, looking at Jace’s face as his eyes closed, his head tilted, and his mouth hung open, and then I looked down at his pant leg and indeed, there was the tip of his dick, just poking out from his shorts. “…are you coming?” I said.

“Who wants some pancakes?” the waitress said, one plate in each hand on either side of her voluptuous chest.

“Youuff—unh—are theeuhhf—most hottest—YES—fucking person I’ve ever gotten pan—cakes—from,” Jace said, trying to control his twitches. He was always a huge blaster, when it came to ejaculating, his loads thick, heavy, and shooting for record-setting distance, and as he tried to smile through his involuntary orgasming—another slap of his hot juice on my leg—I realized I needed to divert attention.

“Do you have pie?” I blurted out, maybe a little too loudly, and the waitress turned to me with a surprised look.

A small whimper of pleasure from Jace, and she looked at him. Another warm plop on my leg.

“Pieeeuhf—yes—piemyfuckingGODyou’re so—so—hot, Ms. Waitress,” Jace said.

And another slap of Jace’s juice, on my calf this time.

“Why thank you,” she said, having placed our plates down, without noticing the strange cadence to his language.

“Can I have extra butter? I’m gonna need extra butter,” I said, again too loudly. I felt the cum dripping down my leg.

“Of course.”

“And a slice of pie?” I continued.

The waitress laughed.

“Yes. Pie. Do you have pie?” Jace said, less strained.

"You boys are cute. Let me go see what we've got in right now." And she walked away.

I took a casual look around the cafe. No one had noticed. Jazz still playing.

"That didn't take as much as I thought it would," I said.

"That was so fucking hot," he said, leaning back in his chair. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Holy fuck."

"How am I going to wipe this off?" I said, trying to nonchalantly look down at the mess he made, his cum on my shorts, my legs.

Jace shrugged. "No one's going to notice."

"There's some on the floor," I said, conspiratorially.

"Meh."

"And look," I said, making a small motion down into my own lap, my own cock tent-poling in my looser shorts. "What am I going to do about this?"

"Well, the waitress did just say we were cute," he said, taking a giant forkful of pancakes into his mouth. "Let's see if we can fuck her."

I laughed, looked down again at his mess dripping down my leg. How romantic, I thought, shaking my head, but smiling.