Desperate Lovers by Adam Carpenter (good beach reads TXT) 📕

“You need to shave,” teased Jack. “Your whiskers are rough.”

Edgar knew that this statement was mere subterfuge; since when

had Jack Fish been opposed to anything rough?

“You love it rough,” whispered Edgar. He rubbed his wiry stubble across Jack’s exposed nipples, which caused his lover’s cock to spring to new life. Edgar couldn’t help but notice this new development and he grasped Jack’s boner in his hand tightly.

“You like that?” he teased, continuing to rub his scruff over Jack’s chest.

“You know I do,” replied Jack, turned on.

Edgar turned Jack around and pushed his face against the tiled wall of the bathroom. He stood behind Jack and pressed his hard on against Jack’s naked ass and resumed kissing his neck. Jack moaned in ecstasy, the sensation of cold tile pressed against his front side, and his partner’s hot body behind almost sent him into sensory overload. Suddenly, Edgar withdrew and knelt on the tile floor behind Jack. He spread Jack’s ass cheeks and began to lick at his asshole in furtive, exploratory teases.

“Oh, Eddy,” whispered Jack, his erection pressed to the tile wall.

Edgar began to lick deeper, shoving his tongue in Jack’s ass until he could go no deeper. In and out, Edgar fucked Jack with his tongue, getting the asshole before him nice and slippery. Jack was breathing heavily. Nobody could rim an ass like Edgar, but what he really craved was Edgar’s massive cock, which was bouncing between his legs.

“Fuck me, Eddy, now, now,” he gasped, his own cock slippery from the copious amounts of pre come that coated the head and covered the tile wall in front of him.

Edgar stood up and Jack heard him spit loudly into his hand.

Without any further warning, Edgar shoved his thick fuck pole into Jack’s ass.

“Holy shit,” exclaimed Jack with eyes wide, his whole body suddenly ablaze with fire. The cold tile offered a needed contrast, felt good against his naked skin as Edgar drove his stiff meat deeper and deeper, pounding Jack’s ass with gusto.

“Oh, fuck…oh, shit,” gasped Jack as he shot his load onto the tile wall. The force and motion of Edgar’s fuck—coupled with his cock against the wall—had caused him to rub his cock against the slippery tile. The sensation of getting off against the wall without touching himself sent ripples through his body, and Jack convulsed as his load shot up the wall in front of him.

“Shit,” whispered Edgar. He let out a stifled moan as he came in Jack’s ass.

He kissed Jack’s neck again.

“Looks like you need to shower again,” he whispered.

Downstairs, seated at the kitchen table, Edgar sipped his first cup of coffee, much more relaxed after a good morning fuck. Jack came in, now dressed, poured himself a cup of green tea, and took a seat at the table.

“Feel better?” asked Jack.

Edgar nodded and took a sip of coffee.

“Edgar,” said Jack, clearly weighing his words, “do you ever think about leaving Eldon Court?”

Jack toyed with his teacup, unwilling to look Edgar in the eye.

“No,” replied Edgar, surprise in his voice. “Why do you ask?”

Jack shrugged and looked at Edgar.

“Sometimes I feel like we don’t fit in,” he said. “Everyone else on the street seems so young, and I know that we’re considered the old queens.”

Edgar laughed a sincere, hearty laugh.

“Oh, baby,” he replied, kindly, “of course they consider us old queens…because when we were their age we were guilty of the same thing. Based on personal experience, and considering, of course, that this process begins at eighteen and peaks at thirty, I calculate that the average gay man gives himself approximately twelve years in which to sleep with as many sexual partners as possible, find a mate and settle down. After that, time to retire and fuck when your schedules allow for it.”

Jack laughed at his lover’s mini dissertation.

“What the boys—particularly Sawyer and Dane—don’t realize is that, in a mere twenty years, they’ll be where we are,” Edgar continued.

“It’ll be here before they know it.”

“God willing,” Jack said.

“God willing,” Edgar echoed. “And, as far as the term ‘old queen’ goes, I figure as long as we’re not running around in muumuus we’re fine.”

Jack leaned over and kissed Edgar.

“We’re not giving up our house, no fucking way,” Edgar said, his words strong but his tone indicating otherwise. “And, hey, if for some reason, we have to sell…well, wherever you are is always going to be home for me.”

Jack kissed Edgar and arose from the table to continue packing for their excursion.

The drive to San Francisco was a quick one, the traffic fairly light.

On the way, Edgar lied to Jack, telling him that an anonymous phone call was the reason for their last minute trip. He hated to lie to his partner but it was better than admitting that not only had he been the intruder with the gun, he had also seen Parker naked. Jealousy was one of Jack’s strong suits.

It felt good to be back in the city, their old stomping grounds, with the petty drama of Wonderland miles away. Edgar resisted the urge to go straight to the Lombard Street mansion and drove instead to the top of Nob Hill. Fortunately, the Fairmont Hotel, across the street from their former San Francisco apartment, had a room available. As luck would have it, it was on the north side of the building, and a window in the room looked out onto the roof of their old apartment building.

“Remember our last night in the city?” asked Edgar, looking onto the neighboring roof.

Jack laughed and wrapped his arms around Edgar. How could he forget? Edgar had fucked his brains out on the roof of the apartment building after an al fresco dinner.

“I wonder if whoever was staying in this room that night could see us?” asked Jack.

“Hot,” said Edgar, turning to face Jack.

“I love you, you know that?” whispered Edgar. He tenderly kissed

Jack on the lips.

“I love you, too,” replied Jack. “I’m sorry about the way I acted earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Edgar. “We’re all under a lot of stress right now.”

Jack took Edgar by the hand and led him to