Donovan looked at me quizzically and then leaned over to kiss me again. I dropped the overcoat, and my fingers went to the towel around his waist. ‘I didn’t get to pay you back…’ As I tore off his towel, I pushed him into the apartment and slammed the door behind me. Donovan sighed as my hands grasped his sides and my lips played across his chest. In the room, I could smell the dust of old books and the spice of the man I held to me: a combination of roasting coffee, clove, and soap. It was a strange aphrodisiac. I wanted nothing more than to taste that spice, to know its source. I looked down and saw the object of my idolatry, standing for me, straight and firm. Already at its tip was a glistening bead of nectar. I found my hands drawn to that length of flesh, reveling in the stone concealed beneath its velvet softness. I fell to my knees in front of him, raised my eyes to the level of his cock, and ran my tongue down it tentatively. It kicked and Donovan’s body shuddered. I took. Teasing myself. Never actually coming to an orgasm, waiting for the real thing. When he got home Evan decided he wanted to go to the Pub for dinner and a few drinks. It is just around the corner so we walked, so we could both drink. I couldn’t keep my mind out of his pants all night. After a few drinks, I was getting drunker and hornier. I reached under the table and put my hand on his cock. He got the hint, we finished our drinks and headed home. We took a short cut through a park that was surrounded by houses and pretty closed in. In the middle of the park is a playground with a swing, a slide and a picnic table. We usually stop at the park to have a go on the swings and just play around. Tonight I put my bag down on the table but as I turn around Evan has grabbed me and is kissing me hard. All I can see, smell and feel is him. I get lost in desire and the here and now. I reach down and get a handful of his cock, which is now hard, hot and throbbing in my hand. He bends his head.
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