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

knew was going to shoot. Rich continued to stroke him, hard, harder, and Marc kept pounding his ass down on that pulsing, angry cock, hard, harder, and he cried out with the onset of his orgasm. Rich bellowed with the need for release.

“Here I come, oh, oh, oh, Rich, fuck me hard, right now, thrust that big cock…”

Rich fired one last violent thrust of his big cock deep inside Marc, and that’s when Marc’s cock blew; gobs of come shot into the air, dropping deep into the nest of hair on Rich’s chest, a spurt slapping him on his scruffy cheek, and he could almost hear the sizzle of his jizz on that hot body. Rich was stroking him still, and Marc was still bouncing on that cock, knowing Rich was close to climax again. He grabbed at Rich’s chest, pulling the thick dark mat, screaming out how he needed his lover to fuck him more, more, more, and Rich thrust again, again, again. Sweat pouring from them, Rich reached up and grabbed at his lover, pulling him off, throwing him down face first on the bed, his ass in the air. Rich then plunged his still rock hard cock deep into his lover’s open ass, plunged, in, out, in, out, Marc taking each passionate, desperate fuck with crying moans.

He felt the weight of Rich’s body on top of him, nearly crushing him into the mattress, the burn of chest hair against his bare back sending rushing waves of heat through him. Rich jackhammered him, his cock penetrating deep, deep, deeper still, and suddenly Rich cried out and with one final, urgent thrust he came, loud and hard, his tip exploding, and shot after shot of white hot come settled into Marc’s ass.

“Ooh, Rich, what did you do, I felt that come splatter deep inside me.”

Panting heavily, Rich admitted that, “I took the condom off, I wanted you to feel me, all of me, my skin to your skin, my come to your ass.”

“But, we said…”

“Marc, baby, that was my way,” he said, pausing for air, “my way of making the biggest commitment I’ve ever made to you…to anyone. No more cheating, no more other lovers. Just you and me, forever,” he said, pulling his wilting, tired cock out, falling back onto the bed with a crash.

Marc lay beside him, the two of them staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t believe the words he’d just heard. Sliding in next to his lover, his hand resting on Rich’s chest, he gazed straight into those brown eyes, and said, “You mean that, really?”

“With all of my heart,” Rich said, “I’ve been thinking, what with our anniversary coming up, with your gallery show, we need to do something special. We’ve already made the move to Wonderland, and we’ll win in our battle for Eldon Court, I have no doubt about that. So why not, when all is said and done, give us all something to look forward to.”

“You mean…?”

“A wedding,” Rich said, “Marc Anderson, lover, friend, partner, I want to take all of those labels and turn them into one word: husband. Tell me you’ll marry me, tell me that it will just be you and me waking up in this bed every morning.”

Marc felt tears christen his cheeks, and he bent his head down, drying his tears in the fur of Rich’s chest. He kissed the chest, licked a nipple. Then he moved upward, and that’s when he planted a sweet, lingering kiss on his lover’s mouth.

“Yes, Rich North, I will be your husband, and you will be mine, and together nothing will ever stop us. And yes, I want to wake up in bed with you every morning, especially if it means I get to be fucked like that all the time, my great, hairy beast taking me again and again, then yes, yes, yes.”

Rich kissed his lover back. He changed positions, and Marc watched as Rich looked down on him, his body hovering above him.

“Do it again, Rich, fuck me again.”

“You know what I’d rather do, Marc?”

“What’s that?”

“I’d rather make love to you,” he said, and with that he slid his hardened cock inside Marc again, but his move was gentle, sweet, the passion he felt penetrating ever deeper than any cock could, even one as big and thick as Rich’s.

“Oh, Rich, yes, love me all day, my hairy-chested beast,” Marc said, “Love me like it’s our first time, fuck me like it’s our final time.”

Later that same day, across town at the fancy Bayside Hotel, Aaron was trying his hardest to leave work early, since he knew Paolo was probably in a big tizzy back home, getting ready for their late afternoon barbeque with the rest of the men of Eldon Court. They had much to discuss, the results of their various endeavors to stop the takeover on Eldon Court. Danvers Converse was, of course, not making it easy.

“Mr. Walters, may I see you in my office?”

Sitting behind the concierge desk and trying to answer the paying customer’s questions, Aaron couldn’t help but roll his eyes. When the boss called, you answered. “Mrs. Ellis, if you would pardon me for a bit, the hotel’s owner requires me. Forgiveness, please?”

“All I wanted to know was a suggestion for a local art gallery.”

“You’re in luck. Just head Down Wonder to Healy’s Art Gallery.

Lauren has stumbled across a great new artist, and he has a show in a few days time. I’m sure she’ll have some great stuff. Tell her Aaron sent you and maybe you’ll get a sneak peek.”

“Oh, how very exciting. Many thanks, Aaron,” said the pleased, plump woman who looked like she had money to spare, and as she waddled off, Aaron was able to make his way down the long corridor toward Converse’s private office. He knew the way, of course, even if his brain from that night was foggy from tequila. He carefully wiped beads of sweat from his brow, anticipating the worst—that the old, bald creep had discovered that not only had Aaron been inside the office, but that he’d stolen the man’s pistol. He knocked once,