The Roadtrip

[jack-slater7]

Part 4:

“That was…” he exhaled, barely a whisper. “Insane.”

“I should’ve stopped,” Wes murmured.

“I didn’t want you to.”

___________

The Next Morning

Sunlight seeped through the thin curtains, casting gold over the tangled sheets. The rain had stopped. Everything was still except for the soft hum of the motel air conditioner and the slow rise and fall of Mason’s chest beside Wes.

Wes blinked awake. His neck ached from how he’d fallen asleep—half curled into Mason’s side, his arm draped across his best friend’s stomach. The comforter had been kicked off in the middle of the night, leaving them both naked and exposed. Mason was already awake too, staring at the ceiling, a faint smirk on his lips and his morning wood pointed towards the ceiling.

Before Wes could say anything, the door swung open. A maid stepped in, holding fresh linens and humming to herself. Her eyes landed on the two naked guys in bed. Her mouth opened slightly. “Oh! Sorry—housekeeping!”

Wes jerked the blanket from the floor in surprise, quickly covering himself up.

But Mason? Mason just stood, completely unbothered, and walked toward the woman.

“Hey, can we get some clean towels?” he asked, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The maid blinked, caught somewhere between flustered and amused. “Uh, sure. Here you go.” Her gaze like a deer in headlights, never looking away from his hard cock.

She handed them to Mason then turned quickly, red creeping up her cheeks.

Wes couldn’t help but stare—both because Mason was still hard, and because…this version of him? So brazen, so shameless? It was hot.

As Mason walked back toward the bed, dick swinging freely, Wes muttered, “Why’d you ask for towels? We’re checking out.”

Mason looked up at him, grinning. “Just for fun. Thought I’d give her a little show.” he said twisting his hips back and forth so his boner slapped against each of his thighs.

He wiggled his eyebrows and disappeared into the bathroom.

Wes shook his head and laughed under his breath, unsure if he was more turned on or more confused. Probably both.

They got dressed and made their way out of the room. The room where everything changed. At the front desk, Mason handed back the key, nodding politely to the clerk. Wes avoided eye contact, unsure if the guy had any idea what kind of night they’d had in room 107.

Back in the car, they hit the road again. The storm was gone, and the sky stretched open and blue above the highway.

Mason drove with one hand on the wheel and the other draped out the open window. Wes stared out at the passing trees, unsure what to say.

He finally turned to him. “So…last night. You okay?”

Mason glanced over, “Yeah,” he said. “Just…processing.”

Wes nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I don’t want to make this weird.”

“You didn’t,” Mason said, a little too quickly. Then he added, “I mean, it was weird. In a good way. A hot way.”

Wes laughed under his breath, but his chest felt tight.

Mason went quiet for a bit. Then, as the road stretched ahead of them, he said, “I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Not gonna lie, that was the best blowjob I’ve ever had. You’re skilled.”

Wes blinked. “Yeah?”

Mason nodded, slowly. “I wasn’t lying, you know. When I said I was glad you didn’t stop. It was…insane. Like, I’ve never—” He cut himself off, shook his head. “It just felt right somehow. Which is fucked, right? Because of Brooke. And because you’re—”

He didn’t finish that sentence either.

Wes looked down casually. The tent shape in Mason’s shorts was unmistakable. Wes bit his lip, trying to keep his expression neutral, but something fluttered in his chest.

No words were exchanged. Just a glance—a moment of eye contact, brief but heavy—and then Wes shifted in his seat.

Quietly, smoothly, he undid his seatbelt and twisted in his seat, his hand already on Mason’s thigh.

“Wes—” Mason started, but his voice caught when Wes squeezed his bulge gently.

Wes didn’t answer. He just leaned down.

The sound of the zipper filled the small space between them. Mason’s breath hitched, one hand gripping the wheel tighter as the other reflexively moved to Wes’ back.

Wes didn’t hesitate. He pulled Mason’s cock out of his fly and took him in his mouth. Slow, deliberate movements, one hand bracing on Mason’s thigh, the other wrapped at the base of his engorged cock. Wes pulled the foreskin down and gently encircled his glans before inching further down. Warmth filled his mouth, and Mason let out a low, strangled noise that made Wes shiver.

The car swerved just slightly.

“Fuck, okay—okay—Jesus—Wes—” Mason muttered, voice tight with pleasure, eyes flicking from the road to the boy in his lap. “You’re gonna kill us.” as he placed both hands on the wheel firmly.

But Wes didn’t stop.

Every now and then, Mason’s fingers twitched like he wanted to bury his hand in Wes’s hair, but he kept both on the wheel. Barely.

The music kept playing. Trees kept blurring past. And Wes just kept going—his rhythm patient, purposeful, like he wanted Mason to feel every second of it.

Mason groaned, louder now, biting his lip to keep from making more noise than he already was. The passing cars would clearly be able to see what was happening if they looked, but Mason couldn’t care less about that in this moment.

“God, Wes—you’re gonna make me—”

Wes didn’t back off. If anything, he went deeper. His tongue flicked. His pace picked up.

Mason’s hips jerked upward—dangerous, considering they were still going 70 down the highway—and then he came, gasping, one hand slamming to the dashboard as his eyes squeezed shut for a second too long before opening again.

Wes sat up slowly, wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, tucking Mason’s wet, softening dick back into his pants and zipping him up. Then he looked out the window like nothing had happened.

Mason didn’t speak for a while. He just adjusted himself and focused on not driving into a ditch.

After a few minutes, he said hoarsely, “That was definitely not in the road trip itinerary.”

Wes smirked. “Guess we’re taking scenic routes now.”

Miles passed with few words spoken. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just silent.

Their exit finally came and they approached their next stop. The mountain town was straight out of a postcard—nestled in pine-covered hills, the buildings all dark wood and stone, with blooming flower boxes hanging from every window. The air was crisp, fresh in a way Wes hadn’t realized he needed until he stepped out of the car and inhaled.

Mason got out and walked around to Wes’ side of the car—a funny look on his face.

“What?” Wes asked confused.

“You’ve got a little…umm…you know…on your cheek.”

Wes leaned down to the side mirror and wiped away Masons crusted cum off his face. “Ready to go?”

They had parked near the base of the sky lift and joined the short line. The ride up was quiet, scenic. They sat hip-to-hip in the small gondola, suspended over green hills and winding trails. Wes kept sneaking glances at Mason, who looked surprisingly at peace with his face tilted into the breeze, his knee gently bumping Wes’s every time the lift swayed.

At the top, the view opened up into a little mountaintop village, bustling with tourists. There were cobbled streets, twinkling string lights, and colorful awnings shading everything from fudge shops to axe-throwing bars.

“Alright,” Mason said, eyeing a sign, “bourbon tasting. Let’s fuckin gooo.”

Wes raised a brow. “Since when do you like bourbon?”

“I don’t,” Mason grinned. “But we’re on vacation. Who knows? Maybe it’ll make me seem sophisticated.”

“I don’t think brown liquor is gonna make you sophisticated…” Wes joked, “but fuck it I’m down.”

The tasting room was warm and dimly lit, with polished wood and flights of tiny glasses lined up like soldiers. The bourbons ranged from caramel-smooth to sharp and smoky, and Wes nursed his more slowly than Mason did.

By the third flight, Mason’s cheeks had pinked up and he was laughing at his own dumb jokes, his foot nudging Wes’s under the table with less and less subtlety.

“You’re such a lightweight,” Wes teased, swirling the last glass and wrinkling his nose. “This one tastes like a campfire, here finish it for me” he said as he handed the glass to Mason—who quickly shot it back and swallowed with ease.

They wandered around aimlessly after the tasting concluded, a little buzzed, the afternoon sun turning the world golden. They took a few photos, tried samples at a local pastry shop, and stood side-by-side at a railing overlooking the valley below.

Mason’s phone kept dinging with texts from Brooke. But he only half replied to each, trying his best to maintain the distance he was hoping to get from her on this vacation.

Eventually they headed back toward the lift, the day starting to stretch into evening.

The gondola dipped slightly as they started descending. The windows were foggy from the difference in temperature, the world outside softly blurred.

Mason’s thigh pressed against Wes’s. “That bourbon has me feeling…really good.” he slurred as he adjusted himself slightly. His thigh pressed into Wes harder, but this time, Mason reached across the small space between them and took Wes’s hand—soft but deliberate. He didn’t say anything, just guided it down, slipping it beneath the waistband of his already unbuttoned shorts.

Wes’s breath caught. His fingers found the familiar weight of Mason’s cock.

The gondola creaked gently as it moved, the sound of distant wind and laughter below. There wasn’t time—not really—but Wes stroked him slowly, pulling down the hood and teasing the head with his thumb, watching Mason’s jaw clench just slightly, his eyes half-lidded.

Mason didn’t look at him. Just stared out the window with a little smirk playing on his lips.

Mason was now fully hard and Wes’ strokes became more fueled. Masons head fell back and he moaned in delight as his friend worked him over. Before things could go further, the lift bounced slightly—they were near the base. Mason looked to Wes—disappointed that they had to stop. Wes pulled his hand out and examined it. Mason’s precum was all over his fingers. He gently lifted his hand to his mouth and slowly licked each digit. Maintaining eye contact with Mason the whole time. Once he was clean, he adjusted his own hardness in his shorts and wiped his slick hand on the seat.

Mason exhaled like he’d been holding his breath the whole ride.

They walked through the quiet streets toward the hotel they had booked ahead of time, dusk settling in. The buzz from the bourbon had mellowed.

Halfway there, Mason spotted a small shop and paused.

“Hang on. I’ll meet you at the corner,” he said, already heading inside before Wes could respond.

Wes waited, curious. When Mason came back out, he was holding a small brown paper sack, folded neatly at the top. He didn’t say anything about it, just tucked it into his jacket pocket like it was no big deal.

But Wes saw the shift in his posture. More certain. More decided. He was up to something.

At the hotel, the clerk was friendly, if a bit tired-looking. Wes stood by the window, trying not to overthink things, while Mason handled the check-in.

“Hey,” Mason said casually, tapping the counter. “We booked a double room, but is there any chance we could switch to a single king instead?”

Wes’s stomach flipped. He looked over. Mason didn’t glance back at him—just waited, cool and unbothered, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The clerk tapped at his keyboard. “You’re in luck. We’ve got one left.”

Mason smiled. “We’ll take it.”

The elevator ride to the room was full of everything unspoken between them. Wes began to speak when the elevator dinged and they were at their floor.

After finding their room, the door clicked shut behind them.

It was cozy—nothing fancy—but much better accommodations than the roadside motel from the previous night. A single king bed with a soft gray comforter, a small sitting area with a couch, a bathroom tucked behind a sliding door.

Wes kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag near the dresser. Mason wandered over to the window, tugging the curtain aside and peering out at the view from their balcony—twinkling streetlights, mountain silhouettes in the distance.

They moved around each other like they weren’t sure how close was too close now. Like every step they took had weight to it.

Wes sat at the edge of the bed and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension crawl up his spine.

Mason finally turned around, eyes landing on him. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the brown paper bag he’d bought earlier.

“I, uh…” Mason hesitated for half a second, then walked over and sat beside him. He opened the bag, slow and deliberate, and pulled out a small bottle of lube. Then a box of condoms.

Wes looked at them, then at Mason.

“You wanna…” He trailed off, searching his face.

Mason’s expression was steady. “I want to try something else,” he said. His voice was calm, but there was a nervous energy buzzing underneath. “If you’re okay with that.”

Wes nodded, heart pounding. “I just need a shower first.”

Mason smiled faintly. “Mind if I join?”


More on Patreon

Really hot, man. Wow. Thanks for sharing more!

 

[fmbttm]

Part 4:

“That was…” he exhaled, barely a whisper. “Insane.”

“I should’ve stopped,” Wes murmured.

“I didn’t want you to.”

___________

The Next Morning

Sunlight seeped through the thin curtains, casting gold over the tangled sheets. The rain had stopped. Everything was still except for the soft hum of the motel air conditioner and the slow rise and fall of Mason’s chest beside Wes.

Wes blinked awake. His neck ached from how he’d fallen asleep—half curled into Mason’s side, his arm draped across his best friend’s stomach. The comforter had been kicked off in the middle of the night, leaving them both naked and exposed. Mason was already awake too, staring at the ceiling, a faint smirk on his lips and his morning wood pointed towards the ceiling.

Before Wes could say anything, the door swung open. A maid stepped in, holding fresh linens and humming to herself. Her eyes landed on the two naked guys in bed. Her mouth opened slightly. “Oh! Sorry—housekeeping!”

Wes jerked the blanket from the floor in surprise, quickly covering himself up.

But Mason? Mason just stood, completely unbothered, and walked toward the woman.

“Hey, can we get some clean towels?” he asked, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The maid blinked, caught somewhere between flustered and amused. “Uh, sure. Here you go.” Her gaze like a deer in headlights, never looking away from his hard cock.

She handed them to Mason then turned quickly, red creeping up her cheeks.

Wes couldn’t help but stare—both because Mason was still hard, and because…this version of him? So brazen, so shameless? It was hot.

As Mason walked back toward the bed, dick swinging freely, Wes muttered, “Why’d you ask for towels? We’re checking out.”

Mason looked up at him, grinning. “Just for fun. Thought I’d give her a little show.” he said twisting his hips back and forth so his boner slapped against each of his thighs.

He wiggled his eyebrows and disappeared into the bathroom.

Wes shook his head and laughed under his breath, unsure if he was more turned on or more confused. Probably both.

They got dressed and made their way out of the room. The room where everything changed. At the front desk, Mason handed back the key, nodding politely to the clerk. Wes avoided eye contact, unsure if the guy had any idea what kind of night they’d had in room 107.

Back in the car, they hit the road again. The storm was gone, and the sky stretched open and blue above the highway.

Mason drove with one hand on the wheel and the other draped out the open window. Wes stared out at the passing trees, unsure what to say.

He finally turned to him. “So…last night. You okay?”

Mason glanced over, “Yeah,” he said. “Just…processing.”

Wes nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I don’t want to make this weird.”

“You didn’t,” Mason said, a little too quickly. Then he added, “I mean, it was weird. In a good way. A hot way.”

Wes laughed under his breath, but his chest felt tight.

Mason went quiet for a bit. Then, as the road stretched ahead of them, he said, “I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Not gonna lie, that was the best blowjob I’ve ever had. You’re skilled.”

Wes blinked. “Yeah?”

Mason nodded, slowly. “I wasn’t lying, you know. When I said I was glad you didn’t stop. It was…insane. Like, I’ve never—” He cut himself off, shook his head. “It just felt right somehow. Which is fucked, right? Because of Brooke. And because you’re—”

He didn’t finish that sentence either.

Wes looked down casually. The tent shape in Mason’s shorts was unmistakable. Wes bit his lip, trying to keep his expression neutral, but something fluttered in his chest.

No words were exchanged. Just a glance—a moment of eye contact, brief but heavy—and then Wes shifted in his seat.

Quietly, smoothly, he undid his seatbelt and twisted in his seat, his hand already on Mason’s thigh.

“Wes—” Mason started, but his voice caught when Wes squeezed his bulge gently.

Wes didn’t answer. He just leaned down.

The sound of the zipper filled the small space between them. Mason’s breath hitched, one hand gripping the wheel tighter as the other reflexively moved to Wes’ back.

Wes didn’t hesitate. He pulled Mason’s cock out of his fly and took him in his mouth. Slow, deliberate movements, one hand bracing on Mason’s thigh, the other wrapped at the base of his engorged cock. Wes pulled the foreskin down and gently encircled his glans before inching further down. Warmth filled his mouth, and Mason let out a low, strangled noise that made Wes shiver.

The car swerved just slightly.

“Fuck, okay—okay—Jesus—Wes—” Mason muttered, voice tight with pleasure, eyes flicking from the road to the boy in his lap. “You’re gonna kill us.” as he placed both hands on the wheel firmly.

But Wes didn’t stop.

Every now and then, Mason’s fingers twitched like he wanted to bury his hand in Wes’s hair, but he kept both on the wheel. Barely.

The music kept playing. Trees kept blurring past. And Wes just kept going—his rhythm patient, purposeful, like he wanted Mason to feel every second of it.

Mason groaned, louder now, biting his lip to keep from making more noise than he already was. The passing cars would clearly be able to see what was happening if they looked, but Mason couldn’t care less about that in this moment.

“God, Wes—you’re gonna make me—”

Wes didn’t back off. If anything, he went deeper. His tongue flicked. His pace picked up.

Mason’s hips jerked upward—dangerous, considering they were still going 70 down the highway—and then he came, gasping, one hand slamming to the dashboard as his eyes squeezed shut for a second too long before opening again.

Wes sat up slowly, wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, tucking Mason’s wet, softening dick back into his pants and zipping him up. Then he looked out the window like nothing had happened.

Mason didn’t speak for a while. He just adjusted himself and focused on not driving into a ditch.

After a few minutes, he said hoarsely, “That was definitely not in the road trip itinerary.”

Wes smirked. “Guess we’re taking scenic routes now.”

Miles passed with few words spoken. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just silent.

Their exit finally came and they approached their next stop. The mountain town was straight out of a postcard—nestled in pine-covered hills, the buildings all dark wood and stone, with blooming flower boxes hanging from every window. The air was crisp, fresh in a way Wes hadn’t realized he needed until he stepped out of the car and inhaled.

Mason got out and walked around to Wes’ side of the car—a funny look on his face.

“What?” Wes asked confused.

“You’ve got a little…umm…you know…on your cheek.”

Wes leaned down to the side mirror and wiped away Masons crusted cum off his face. “Ready to go?”

They had parked near the base of the sky lift and joined the short line. The ride up was quiet, scenic. They sat hip-to-hip in the small gondola, suspended over green hills and winding trails. Wes kept sneaking glances at Mason, who looked surprisingly at peace with his face tilted into the breeze, his knee gently bumping Wes’s every time the lift swayed.

At the top, the view opened up into a little mountaintop village, bustling with tourists. There were cobbled streets, twinkling string lights, and colorful awnings shading everything from fudge shops to axe-throwing bars.

“Alright,” Mason said, eyeing a sign, “bourbon tasting. Let’s fuckin gooo.”

Wes raised a brow. “Since when do you like bourbon?”

“I don’t,” Mason grinned. “But we’re on vacation. Who knows? Maybe it’ll make me seem sophisticated.”

“I don’t think brown liquor is gonna make you sophisticated…” Wes joked, “but fuck it I’m down.”

The tasting room was warm and dimly lit, with polished wood and flights of tiny glasses lined up like soldiers. The bourbons ranged from caramel-smooth to sharp and smoky, and Wes nursed his more slowly than Mason did.

By the third flight, Mason’s cheeks had pinked up and he was laughing at his own dumb jokes, his foot nudging Wes’s under the table with less and less subtlety.

“You’re such a lightweight,” Wes teased, swirling the last glass and wrinkling his nose. “This one tastes like a campfire, here finish it for me” he said as he handed the glass to Mason—who quickly shot it back and swallowed with ease.

They wandered around aimlessly after the tasting concluded, a little buzzed, the afternoon sun turning the world golden. They took a few photos, tried samples at a local pastry shop, and stood side-by-side at a railing overlooking the valley below.

Mason’s phone kept dinging with texts from Brooke. But he only half replied to each, trying his best to maintain the distance he was hoping to get from her on this vacation.

Eventually they headed back toward the lift, the day starting to stretch into evening.

The gondola dipped slightly as they started descending. The windows were foggy from the difference in temperature, the world outside softly blurred.

Mason’s thigh pressed against Wes’s. “That bourbon has me feeling…really good.” he slurred as he adjusted himself slightly. His thigh pressed into Wes harder, but this time, Mason reached across the small space between them and took Wes’s hand—soft but deliberate. He didn’t say anything, just guided it down, slipping it beneath the waistband of his already unbuttoned shorts.

Wes’s breath caught. His fingers found the familiar weight of Mason’s cock.

The gondola creaked gently as it moved, the sound of distant wind and laughter below. There wasn’t time—not really—but Wes stroked him slowly, pulling down the hood and teasing the head with his thumb, watching Mason’s jaw clench just slightly, his eyes half-lidded.

Mason didn’t look at him. Just stared out the window with a little smirk playing on his lips.

Mason was now fully hard and Wes’ strokes became more fueled. Masons head fell back and he moaned in delight as his friend worked him over. Before things could go further, the lift bounced slightly—they were near the base. Mason looked to Wes—disappointed that they had to stop. Wes pulled his hand out and examined it. Mason’s precum was all over his fingers. He gently lifted his hand to his mouth and slowly licked each digit. Maintaining eye contact with Mason the whole time. Once he was clean, he adjusted his own hardness in his shorts and wiped his slick hand on the seat.

Mason exhaled like he’d been holding his breath the whole ride.

They walked through the quiet streets toward the hotel they had booked ahead of time, dusk settling in. The buzz from the bourbon had mellowed.

Halfway there, Mason spotted a small shop and paused.

“Hang on. I’ll meet you at the corner,” he said, already heading inside before Wes could respond.

Wes waited, curious. When Mason came back out, he was holding a small brown paper sack, folded neatly at the top. He didn’t say anything about it, just tucked it into his jacket pocket like it was no big deal.

But Wes saw the shift in his posture. More certain. More decided. He was up to something.

At the hotel, the clerk was friendly, if a bit tired-looking. Wes stood by the window, trying not to overthink things, while Mason handled the check-in.

“Hey,” Mason said casually, tapping the counter. “We booked a double room, but is there any chance we could switch to a single king instead?”

Wes’s stomach flipped. He looked over. Mason didn’t glance back at him—just waited, cool and unbothered, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The clerk tapped at his keyboard. “You’re in luck. We’ve got one left.”

Mason smiled. “We’ll take it.”

The elevator ride to the room was full of everything unspoken between them. Wes began to speak when the elevator dinged and they were at their floor.

After finding their room, the door clicked shut behind them.

It was cozy—nothing fancy—but much better accommodations than the roadside motel from the previous night. A single king bed with a soft gray comforter, a small sitting area with a couch, a bathroom tucked behind a sliding door.

Wes kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag near the dresser. Mason wandered over to the window, tugging the curtain aside and peering out at the view from their balcony—twinkling streetlights, mountain silhouettes in the distance.

They moved around each other like they weren’t sure how close was too close now. Like every step they took had weight to it.

Wes sat at the edge of the bed and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension crawl up his spine.

Mason finally turned around, eyes landing on him. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the brown paper bag he’d bought earlier.

“I, uh…” Mason hesitated for half a second, then walked over and sat beside him. He opened the bag, slow and deliberate, and pulled out a small bottle of lube. Then a box of condoms.

Wes looked at them, then at Mason.

“You wanna…” He trailed off, searching his face.

Mason’s expression was steady. “I want to try something else,” he said. His voice was calm, but there was a nervous energy buzzing underneath. “If you’re okay with that.”

Wes nodded, heart pounding. “I just need a shower first.”

Mason smiled faintly. “Mind if I join?”


More on Patreon

Hot as hell!!

 

[Blasiannn]

Part 4:

“That was…” he exhaled, barely a whisper. “Insane.”

“I should’ve stopped,” Wes murmured.

“I didn’t want you to.”

___________

The Next Morning

Sunlight seeped through the thin curtains, casting gold over the tangled sheets. The rain had stopped. Everything was still except for the soft hum of the motel air conditioner and the slow rise and fall of Mason’s chest beside Wes.

Wes blinked awake. His neck ached from how he’d fallen asleep—half curled into Mason’s side, his arm draped across his best friend’s stomach. The comforter had been kicked off in the middle of the night, leaving them both naked and exposed. Mason was already awake too, staring at the ceiling, a faint smirk on his lips and his morning wood pointed towards the ceiling.

Before Wes could say anything, the door swung open. A maid stepped in, holding fresh linens and humming to herself. Her eyes landed on the two naked guys in bed. Her mouth opened slightly. “Oh! Sorry—housekeeping!”

Wes jerked the blanket from the floor in surprise, quickly covering himself up.

But Mason? Mason just stood, completely unbothered, and walked toward the woman.

“Hey, can we get some clean towels?” he asked, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The maid blinked, caught somewhere between flustered and amused. “Uh, sure. Here you go.” Her gaze like a deer in headlights, never looking away from his hard cock.

She handed them to Mason then turned quickly, red creeping up her cheeks.

Wes couldn’t help but stare—both because Mason was still hard, and because…this version of him? So brazen, so shameless? It was hot.

As Mason walked back toward the bed, dick swinging freely, Wes muttered, “Why’d you ask for towels? We’re checking out.”

Mason looked up at him, grinning. “Just for fun. Thought I’d give her a little show.” he said twisting his hips back and forth so his boner slapped against each of his thighs.

He wiggled his eyebrows and disappeared into the bathroom.

Wes shook his head and laughed under his breath, unsure if he was more turned on or more confused. Probably both.

They got dressed and made their way out of the room. The room where everything changed. At the front desk, Mason handed back the key, nodding politely to the clerk. Wes avoided eye contact, unsure if the guy had any idea what kind of night they’d had in room 107.

Back in the car, they hit the road again. The storm was gone, and the sky stretched open and blue above the highway.

Mason drove with one hand on the wheel and the other draped out the open window. Wes stared out at the passing trees, unsure what to say.

He finally turned to him. “So…last night. You okay?”

Mason glanced over, “Yeah,” he said. “Just…processing.”

Wes nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I don’t want to make this weird.”

“You didn’t,” Mason said, a little too quickly. Then he added, “I mean, it was weird. In a good way. A hot way.”

Wes laughed under his breath, but his chest felt tight.

Mason went quiet for a bit. Then, as the road stretched ahead of them, he said, “I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Not gonna lie, that was the best blowjob I’ve ever had. You’re skilled.”

Wes blinked. “Yeah?”

Mason nodded, slowly. “I wasn’t lying, you know. When I said I was glad you didn’t stop. It was…insane. Like, I’ve never—” He cut himself off, shook his head. “It just felt right somehow. Which is fucked, right? Because of Brooke. And because you’re—”

He didn’t finish that sentence either.

Wes looked down casually. The tent shape in Mason’s shorts was unmistakable. Wes bit his lip, trying to keep his expression neutral, but something fluttered in his chest.

No words were exchanged. Just a glance—a moment of eye contact, brief but heavy—and then Wes shifted in his seat.

Quietly, smoothly, he undid his seatbelt and twisted in his seat, his hand already on Mason’s thigh.

“Wes—” Mason started, but his voice caught when Wes squeezed his bulge gently.

Wes didn’t answer. He just leaned down.

The sound of the zipper filled the small space between them. Mason’s breath hitched, one hand gripping the wheel tighter as the other reflexively moved to Wes’ back.

Wes didn’t hesitate. He pulled Mason’s cock out of his fly and took him in his mouth. Slow, deliberate movements, one hand bracing on Mason’s thigh, the other wrapped at the base of his engorged cock. Wes pulled the foreskin down and gently encircled his glans before inching further down. Warmth filled his mouth, and Mason let out a low, strangled noise that made Wes shiver.

The car swerved just slightly.

“Fuck, okay—okay—Jesus—Wes—” Mason muttered, voice tight with pleasure, eyes flicking from the road to the boy in his lap. “You’re gonna kill us.” as he placed both hands on the wheel firmly.

But Wes didn’t stop.

Every now and then, Mason’s fingers twitched like he wanted to bury his hand in Wes’s hair, but he kept both on the wheel. Barely.

The music kept playing. Trees kept blurring past. And Wes just kept going—his rhythm patient, purposeful, like he wanted Mason to feel every second of it.

Mason groaned, louder now, biting his lip to keep from making more noise than he already was. The passing cars would clearly be able to see what was happening if they looked, but Mason couldn’t care less about that in this moment.

“God, Wes—you’re gonna make me—”

Wes didn’t back off. If anything, he went deeper. His tongue flicked. His pace picked up.

Mason’s hips jerked upward—dangerous, considering they were still going 70 down the highway—and then he came, gasping, one hand slamming to the dashboard as his eyes squeezed shut for a second too long before opening again.

Wes sat up slowly, wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, tucking Mason’s wet, softening dick back into his pants and zipping him up. Then he looked out the window like nothing had happened.

Mason didn’t speak for a while. He just adjusted himself and focused on not driving into a ditch.

After a few minutes, he said hoarsely, “That was definitely not in the road trip itinerary.”

Wes smirked. “Guess we’re taking scenic routes now.”

Miles passed with few words spoken. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just silent.

Their exit finally came and they approached their next stop. The mountain town was straight out of a postcard—nestled in pine-covered hills, the buildings all dark wood and stone, with blooming flower boxes hanging from every window. The air was crisp, fresh in a way Wes hadn’t realized he needed until he stepped out of the car and inhaled.

Mason got out and walked around to Wes’ side of the car—a funny look on his face.

“What?” Wes asked confused.

“You’ve got a little…umm…you know…on your cheek.”

Wes leaned down to the side mirror and wiped away Masons crusted cum off his face. “Ready to go?”

They had parked near the base of the sky lift and joined the short line. The ride up was quiet, scenic. They sat hip-to-hip in the small gondola, suspended over green hills and winding trails. Wes kept sneaking glances at Mason, who looked surprisingly at peace with his face tilted into the breeze, his knee gently bumping Wes’s every time the lift swayed.

At the top, the view opened up into a little mountaintop village, bustling with tourists. There were cobbled streets, twinkling string lights, and colorful awnings shading everything from fudge shops to axe-throwing bars.

“Alright,” Mason said, eyeing a sign, “bourbon tasting. Let’s fuckin gooo.”

Wes raised a brow. “Since when do you like bourbon?”

“I don’t,” Mason grinned. “But we’re on vacation. Who knows? Maybe it’ll make me seem sophisticated.”

“I don’t think brown liquor is gonna make you sophisticated…” Wes joked, “but fuck it I’m down.”

The tasting room was warm and dimly lit, with polished wood and flights of tiny glasses lined up like soldiers. The bourbons ranged from caramel-smooth to sharp and smoky, and Wes nursed his more slowly than Mason did.

By the third flight, Mason’s cheeks had pinked up and he was laughing at his own dumb jokes, his foot nudging Wes’s under the table with less and less subtlety.

“You’re such a lightweight,” Wes teased, swirling the last glass and wrinkling his nose. “This one tastes like a campfire, here finish it for me” he said as he handed the glass to Mason—who quickly shot it back and swallowed with ease.

They wandered around aimlessly after the tasting concluded, a little buzzed, the afternoon sun turning the world golden. They took a few photos, tried samples at a local pastry shop, and stood side-by-side at a railing overlooking the valley below.

Mason’s phone kept dinging with texts from Brooke. But he only half replied to each, trying his best to maintain the distance he was hoping to get from her on this vacation.

Eventually they headed back toward the lift, the day starting to stretch into evening.

The gondola dipped slightly as they started descending. The windows were foggy from the difference in temperature, the world outside softly blurred.

Mason’s thigh pressed against Wes’s. “That bourbon has me feeling…really good.” he slurred as he adjusted himself slightly. His thigh pressed into Wes harder, but this time, Mason reached across the small space between them and took Wes’s hand—soft but deliberate. He didn’t say anything, just guided it down, slipping it beneath the waistband of his already unbuttoned shorts.

Wes’s breath caught. His fingers found the familiar weight of Mason’s cock.

The gondola creaked gently as it moved, the sound of distant wind and laughter below. There wasn’t time—not really—but Wes stroked him slowly, pulling down the hood and teasing the head with his thumb, watching Mason’s jaw clench just slightly, his eyes half-lidded.

Mason didn’t look at him. Just stared out the window with a little smirk playing on his lips.

Mason was now fully hard and Wes’ strokes became more fueled. Masons head fell back and he moaned in delight as his friend worked him over. Before things could go further, the lift bounced slightly—they were near the base. Mason looked to Wes—disappointed that they had to stop. Wes pulled his hand out and examined it. Mason’s precum was all over his fingers. He gently lifted his hand to his mouth and slowly licked each digit. Maintaining eye contact with Mason the whole time. Once he was clean, he adjusted his own hardness in his shorts and wiped his slick hand on the seat.

Mason exhaled like he’d been holding his breath the whole ride.

They walked through the quiet streets toward the hotel they had booked ahead of time, dusk settling in. The buzz from the bourbon had mellowed.

Halfway there, Mason spotted a small shop and paused.

“Hang on. I’ll meet you at the corner,” he said, already heading inside before Wes could respond.

Wes waited, curious. When Mason came back out, he was holding a small brown paper sack, folded neatly at the top. He didn’t say anything about it, just tucked it into his jacket pocket like it was no big deal.

But Wes saw the shift in his posture. More certain. More decided. He was up to something.

At the hotel, the clerk was friendly, if a bit tired-looking. Wes stood by the window, trying not to overthink things, while Mason handled the check-in.

“Hey,” Mason said casually, tapping the counter. “We booked a double room, but is there any chance we could switch to a single king instead?”

Wes’s stomach flipped. He looked over. Mason didn’t glance back at him—just waited, cool and unbothered, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The clerk tapped at his keyboard. “You’re in luck. We’ve got one left.”

Mason smiled. “We’ll take it.”

The elevator ride to the room was full of everything unspoken between them. Wes began to speak when the elevator dinged and they were at their floor.

After finding their room, the door clicked shut behind them.

It was cozy—nothing fancy—but much better accommodations than the roadside motel from the previous night. A single king bed with a soft gray comforter, a small sitting area with a couch, a bathroom tucked behind a sliding door.

Wes kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag near the dresser. Mason wandered over to the window, tugging the curtain aside and peering out at the view from their balcony—twinkling streetlights, mountain silhouettes in the distance.

They moved around each other like they weren’t sure how close was too close now. Like every step they took had weight to it.

Wes sat at the edge of the bed and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension crawl up his spine.

Mason finally turned around, eyes landing on him. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the brown paper bag he’d bought earlier.

“I, uh…” Mason hesitated for half a second, then walked over and sat beside him. He opened the bag, slow and deliberate, and pulled out a small bottle of lube. Then a box of condoms.

Wes looked at them, then at Mason.

“You wanna…” He trailed off, searching his face.

Mason’s expression was steady. “I want to try something else,” he said. His voice was calm, but there was a nervous energy buzzing underneath. “If you’re okay with that.”

Wes nodded, heart pounding. “I just need a shower first.”

Mason smiled faintly. “Mind if I join?”


More on Patreon

Oh hell yes!!!

 

[JaxxStories]

Part 5:

Mason’s expression was steady. “I want to try something else,” he said. His voice was calm, but there was a nervous energy buzzing underneath. “If you’re okay with that.”

Wes nodded, heart pounding. “I just need a shower first.”

Mason smiled faintly. “Mind if I join?”

⸻

Steam filled the space quickly. The water was hot, washing away the cool mountain air that had clung to their skin all day.

Wes stepped in first, tilting his face under the spray, letting the water pour over his hair, his shoulders, his chest. He felt Mason enter behind him, the shift in air as he stepped in and pulled the door shut.

For a moment, they just stood there, shoulder to shoulder, letting the water move around them. Their dicks still soft, but twitching.

Mason’s hands slid up Wes’s back—tentative at first, then bolder. He pressed his lips to the nape of Wes’s neck, wet and warm.

Wes exhaled slowly, eyes closed.

The tension that had been humming between them all day now had somewhere to go—melting under hot water, in quiet touches, in soft exhales and slow glances.

Mason turned Wes gently to face him, palms resting on his hips. Their foreheads bumped together, and they stood like that, the water cascading around them, lips barely brushing.

“You sure about this?” Wes asked quietly, eyes searching his.

Mason nodded, throat working. “Yeah,” he said. “I want this.”

Wes leaned in and kissed him—soft and deep, tasting heat and bourbon and something more as Mason returned the kiss and held onto him.

The water had long since turned their skin a pinkish red hue from the heat, but neither of them moved to shut it off. Mason’s fingers trailed down Wes’s sides, reverent and slow, like he was memorizing him by touch. Wes leaned into it, the weight of Mason’s hands steadying him in a way nothing else could.

Their lips met again—slippery, mouths open and breathing into each other. Mason deepened the kiss, a low sound catching in his throat when Wes reached down and stroked him under the stream.

Eventually, Wes pulled back slightly, his forehead still resting against Mason’s. “Wait for me in the room, I need to clean myself out.”

Mason nodded, but his hands lingered on Wes’s waist a second longer before he turned and exited the shower.

He toweled off before making his way out of the steamy bathroom.

Wes finished up and walked back into the bedroom still towel-clad. He sat at the edge of the bed, his fingers rubbing at the towel’s hem like he wasn’t quite sure what to do next.

Mason was sitting on the couch, hitting his vape and bouncing his knee in anticipation.

His hair was damp and messy, his skin still flushed from the heat. He didn’t say anything—just stood, dropped his towel, walked over, and stood in front of Wes.

Wes looked up at him, expression unreadable but open. Mason leaned down, cupped Wes’s face in both hands, and kissed him again—this time slower, more certain.

Wes let himself be guided back onto the bed, Mason’s body pressing gently over his. Wes’ towel slipped away as they lay together, bare skin meeting in a shiver of warmth and nerves.

Wes rolled them, straddling Mason’s thighs. He kissed his way down his chest, tongue flicking at a nipple just to hear Mason’s breath hitch, before continuing downward, hands skimming firm muscle and soft skin. He paused just above Mason’s hips, looking up with a quiet sort of question.

Mason nodded.

Wes took him into his mouth, slowly, deliberately, one hand holding Mason’s hip steady while the other stroked at the base. Mason exhaled sharply, his hands fisting the sheets, eyes fluttering closed. His voice came out ragged.

“Wes…”

Wes continued—his mouth moved in practiced, patient rhythm, but there was emotion in it too, something deeper than just pleasure.

After a few minutes, he pulled back with a soft pop, his lips flushed, his hand still wrapped gently around Mason.

Wes looked up. “Are you ready?”

Mason leaned up and kissed Wes again as his hand reached for the small bag on the nightstand. He pulled out the lube and condoms, then looked down at Wes with a small, almost nervous smile.

“You trust me?”

Wes nodded without hesitation. “Yeah.”

Mason’s touch was careful at first—slick fingers exploring with gentle, patient pressure. He watched Wes’s face the whole time, gauging every breath, every twitch of his jaw.

Wes’s breath stopped briefly as Mason eased a finger in, slow and steady. He adjusted easily, his legs falling further apart, inviting more.

“That okay?” Mason asked, voice lower now, rougher.

“Yeah,” Wes said, his voice breathy. “More.”

Mason obliged, adding a second finger, working him open with soft, rhythmic strokes. Wes groaned and arched into the touch, his hands fisting the sheets, his thighs trembling slightly from the building pressure.

“Fuck, Mason…”

Mason kissed him again, deep and messy, then pulled back just enough to tear open the condom and roll it on. He grabbed more lube and slicked himself, hand shaky but determined.

When he lined up, Mason paused, one hand steadying Wes’s hip, the other holding himself in place.

“You sure?” he asked one last time.

Wes nodded, reaching for him. “Fuck me Mason”

Mason pushed in slowly, inch by inch. Wes’s back arched, his mouth dropping open, eyes fluttering shut.

“Jesus,” Mason breathed, the tight heat overwhelming him. “You feel…”

Wes bit his lip, groaning. “Keep going.”

Mason bottomed out with a gasp, his hands gripping Wes’s hips like he was trying to stay grounded. He stayed still at first, letting them both adjust, forehead resting against Wes’s.

“You okay?” he murmured.

Wes nodded again, legs wrapping around Mason’s waist and pulling him in further. “I said FUCK ME.”

Mason started to thrust—slow, deep, each stroke dragging a moan out of Wes’s throat. Their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, sweat starting to slick their skin, the only sounds in the room their heavy breathing, wet skin, the soft creak of the bed beneath them.

Wes clung to him, nails digging into his back, his voice wrecked and breathless.

“Fuck, Mason—don’t stop.”

“I’m not,” Mason panted. “This feels too good to stop.”

He shifted the angle, rolling his hips just right, and Wes cried out, back arching off the bed. Mason pressed a hand to his chest to hold him there, eyes locked on his face.

Wes looked wrecked—flushed, sweaty, his mouth slack with pleasure.

The thrusts kept coming, harder now, more desperate. He was close—too close—but he wanted Wes there with him.

He wrapped a hand around Wes’s cock, stroking him in time with each deep thrust.

“Cum for me,” he whispered against his neck. “I wanna see you.”

Wes tensed beneath him, legs trembling, and let out a ragged moan as he came across both their stomachs, hips jerking up into Mason’s hand.

The sight of it undid Mason. With one more thrust, he buried himself deep and groaned into Wes’s shoulder as he came, his whole body shaking with it.

They collapsed together, breathless and boneless, limbs tangled, hearts racing.

Mason rolled onto his side, slipping out of Wes gently and discarding the condom before pulling Wes against him.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. Just quiet breaths and the soft press of skin on skin.

Eventually, Wes tilted his face up toward Mason’s.

“You’re not freaking out?”

Mason shook his head, one hand tracing idle circles on Wes’s back.

“No,” he whispered. “I’ve never felt more…right.”

Wes’s smile was small, but real. “Me neither.”

Mason leaned in, kissed him again—gentle, unhurried.

And in the silence that followed, they just stayed there—wrapped around each other, no need for explanations.

They quickly fell fast asleep.

_________

The room was quiet, awash in soft gray morning light that filtered through the half-drawn curtains. Wes stirred under the blankets, eyes blinking open slowly. The sheets were still warm beside him, but the space was empty.

He rolled over, the events of last night crashing into him like a quiet, overwhelming tide. His body ached in the way that made it all real. The touches. The heat. Mason’s voice in his ear. The way they’d moved together like they finally understood each other without needing words.

But now the bed was empty.

Wes sat up, heart thudding a little harder than it should have. For a second, panic twisted in his chest—until he glanced toward the window.

Mason was outside, leaning against the wooden railing of their small balcony, wearing nothing but his boxers. His broad back was turned, one hand resting on the railing, the other holding his phone to his ear. Even from a distance, Wes could tell it was a serious conversation. Mason’s posture was rigid, his head bowed slightly, jaw tight.

Wes pulled the sheets around his waist, watching him through the glass. He couldn’t hear anything, but he didn’t need to. There was only one person Mason could be calling.

After several minutes, Mason finally ended the call and stood there for another long moment, unmoving, eyes fixed on the mountains. Then he slipped back inside, shutting the sliding door behind him with a quiet thud.

Wes sat up straighter. “Was that Brooke?”

Mason’s face gave the answer before his mouth did. He rubbed a hand through his hair, nodded, and exhaled slowly as he sat on the edge of the bed, still facing away.

“Yeah,” he said. “I just broke up with her.”

Wes didn’t move. The weight of those words hung heavy in the air. His voice was cautious when he spoke again.

“Because of last night?”

Mason finally turned to face him, his expression unreadable but not cold. “Because of a lot of things. But yeah. That pushed it over.”

Wes stared at him, heart hammering. “Are you okay?”

Mason looked at him for a long time, then gave a tired, almost sad smile. “I don’t know. I think so.”

He crawled back onto the bed, settling beside Wes—not touching him yet, just close.

“I’ve been lying to myself for a long time,” he said quietly. “About how unhappy I was with her. This trip is helping open my eyes to that and to how I feel”

Wes swallowed. “And how do you feel?”

Mason hesitated, then reached out and touched Wes’s hand—fingers lacing gently through his.

“I don’t have all the answers yet,” he said. “But I know last night wasn’t a mistake.”

Wes let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and gave a small, genuine smile.

“Okay,” he said. “That’s enough for me.”

For now.



More: Get more from JaxxStories on Patreon

 

[fmbttm]

Part 5:

Mason’s expression was steady. “I want to try something else,” he said. His voice was calm, but there was a nervous energy buzzing underneath. “If you’re okay with that.”

Wes nodded, heart pounding. “I just need a shower first.”

Mason smiled faintly. “Mind if I join?”

⸻

Steam filled the space quickly. The water was hot, washing away the cool mountain air that had clung to their skin all day.

Wes stepped in first, tilting his face under the spray, letting the water pour over his hair, his shoulders, his chest. He felt Mason enter behind him, the shift in air as he stepped in and pulled the door shut.

For a moment, they just stood there, shoulder to shoulder, letting the water move around them. Their dicks still soft, but twitching.

Mason’s hands slid up Wes’s back—tentative at first, then bolder. He pressed his lips to the nape of Wes’s neck, wet and warm.

Wes exhaled slowly, eyes closed.

The tension that had been humming between them all day now had somewhere to go—melting under hot water, in quiet touches, in soft exhales and slow glances.

Mason turned Wes gently to face him, palms resting on his hips. Their foreheads bumped together, and they stood like that, the water cascading around them, lips barely brushing.

“You sure about this?” Wes asked quietly, eyes searching his.

Mason nodded, throat working. “Yeah,” he said. “I want this.”

Wes leaned in and kissed him—soft and deep, tasting heat and bourbon and something more as Mason returned the kiss and held onto him.

The water had long since turned their skin a pinkish red hue from the heat, but neither of them moved to shut it off. Mason’s fingers trailed down Wes’s sides, reverent and slow, like he was memorizing him by touch. Wes leaned into it, the weight of Mason’s hands steadying him in a way nothing else could.

Their lips met again—slippery, mouths open and breathing into each other. Mason deepened the kiss, a low sound catching in his throat when Wes reached down and stroked him under the stream.

Eventually, Wes pulled back slightly, his forehead still resting against Mason’s. “Wait for me in the room, I need to clean myself out.”

Mason nodded, but his hands lingered on Wes’s waist a second longer before he turned and exited the shower.

He toweled off before making his way out of the steamy bathroom.

Wes finished up and walked back into the bedroom still towel-clad. He sat at the edge of the bed, his fingers rubbing at the towel’s hem like he wasn’t quite sure what to do next.

Mason was sitting on the couch, hitting his vape and bouncing his knee in anticipation.

His hair was damp and messy, his skin still flushed from the heat. He didn’t say anything—just stood, dropped his towel, walked over, and stood in front of Wes.

Wes looked up at him, expression unreadable but open. Mason leaned down, cupped Wes’s face in both hands, and kissed him again—this time slower, more certain.

Wes let himself be guided back onto the bed, Mason’s body pressing gently over his. Wes’ towel slipped away as they lay together, bare skin meeting in a shiver of warmth and nerves.

Wes rolled them, straddling Mason’s thighs. He kissed his way down his chest, tongue flicking at a nipple just to hear Mason’s breath hitch, before continuing downward, hands skimming firm muscle and soft skin. He paused just above Mason’s hips, looking up with a quiet sort of question.

Mason nodded.

Wes took him into his mouth, slowly, deliberately, one hand holding Mason’s hip steady while the other stroked at the base. Mason exhaled sharply, his hands fisting the sheets, eyes fluttering closed. His voice came out ragged.

“Wes…”

Wes continued—his mouth moved in practiced, patient rhythm, but there was emotion in it too, something deeper than just pleasure.

After a few minutes, he pulled back with a soft pop, his lips flushed, his hand still wrapped gently around Mason.

Wes looked up. “Are you ready?”

Mason leaned up and kissed Wes again as his hand reached for the small bag on the nightstand. He pulled out the lube and condoms, then looked down at Wes with a small, almost nervous smile.

“You trust me?”

Wes nodded without hesitation. “Yeah.”

Mason’s touch was careful at first—slick fingers exploring with gentle, patient pressure. He watched Wes’s face the whole time, gauging every breath, every twitch of his jaw.

Wes’s breath stopped briefly as Mason eased a finger in, slow and steady. He adjusted easily, his legs falling further apart, inviting more.

“That okay?” Mason asked, voice lower now, rougher.

“Yeah,” Wes said, his voice breathy. “More.”

Mason obliged, adding a second finger, working him open with soft, rhythmic strokes. Wes groaned and arched into the touch, his hands fisting the sheets, his thighs trembling slightly from the building pressure.

“Fuck, Mason…”

Mason kissed him again, deep and messy, then pulled back just enough to tear open the condom and roll it on. He grabbed more lube and slicked himself, hand shaky but determined.

When he lined up, Mason paused, one hand steadying Wes’s hip, the other holding himself in place.

“You sure?” he asked one last time.

Wes nodded, reaching for him. “Fuck me Mason”

Mason pushed in slowly, inch by inch. Wes’s back arched, his mouth dropping open, eyes fluttering shut.

“Jesus,” Mason breathed, the tight heat overwhelming him. “You feel…”

Wes bit his lip, groaning. “Keep going.”

Mason bottomed out with a gasp, his hands gripping Wes’s hips like he was trying to stay grounded. He stayed still at first, letting them both adjust, forehead resting against Wes’s.

“You okay?” he murmured.

Wes nodded again, legs wrapping around Mason’s waist and pulling him in further. “I said FUCK ME.”

Mason started to thrust—slow, deep, each stroke dragging a moan out of Wes’s throat. Their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, sweat starting to slick their skin, the only sounds in the room their heavy breathing, wet skin, the soft creak of the bed beneath them.

Wes clung to him, nails digging into his back, his voice wrecked and breathless.

“Fuck, Mason—don’t stop.”

“I’m not,” Mason panted. “This feels too good to stop.”

He shifted the angle, rolling his hips just right, and Wes cried out, back arching off the bed. Mason pressed a hand to his chest to hold him there, eyes locked on his face.

Wes looked wrecked—flushed, sweaty, his mouth slack with pleasure.

The thrusts kept coming, harder now, more desperate. He was close—too close—but he wanted Wes there with him.

He wrapped a hand around Wes’s cock, stroking him in time with each deep thrust.

“Cum for me,” he whispered against his neck. “I wanna see you.”

Wes tensed beneath him, legs trembling, and let out a ragged moan as he came across both their stomachs, hips jerking up into Mason’s hand.

The sight of it undid Mason. With one more thrust, he buried himself deep and groaned into Wes’s shoulder as he came, his whole body shaking with it.

They collapsed together, breathless and boneless, limbs tangled, hearts racing.

Mason rolled onto his side, slipping out of Wes gently and discarding the condom before pulling Wes against him.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. Just quiet breaths and the soft press of skin on skin.

Eventually, Wes tilted his face up toward Mason’s.

“You’re not freaking out?”

Mason shook his head, one hand tracing idle circles on Wes’s back.

“No,” he whispered. “I’ve never felt more…right.”

Wes’s smile was small, but real. “Me neither.”

Mason leaned in, kissed him again—gentle, unhurried.

And in the silence that followed, they just stayed there—wrapped around each other, no need for explanations.

They quickly fell fast asleep.

_________

The room was quiet, awash in soft gray morning light that filtered through the half-drawn curtains. Wes stirred under the blankets, eyes blinking open slowly. The sheets were still warm beside him, but the space was empty.

He rolled over, the events of last night crashing into him like a quiet, overwhelming tide. His body ached in the way that made it all real. The touches. The heat. Mason’s voice in his ear. The way they’d moved together like they finally understood each other without needing words.

But now the bed was empty.

Wes sat up, heart thudding a little harder than it should have. For a second, panic twisted in his chest—until he glanced toward the window.

Mason was outside, leaning against the wooden railing of their small balcony, wearing nothing but his boxers. His broad back was turned, one hand resting on the railing, the other holding his phone to his ear. Even from a distance, Wes could tell it was a serious conversation. Mason’s posture was rigid, his head bowed slightly, jaw tight.

Wes pulled the sheets around his waist, watching him through the glass. He couldn’t hear anything, but he didn’t need to. There was only one person Mason could be calling.

After several minutes, Mason finally ended the call and stood there for another long moment, unmoving, eyes fixed on the mountains. Then he slipped back inside, shutting the sliding door behind him with a quiet thud.

Wes sat up straighter. “Was that Brooke?”

Mason’s face gave the answer before his mouth did. He rubbed a hand through his hair, nodded, and exhaled slowly as he sat on the edge of the bed, still facing away.

“Yeah,” he said. “I just broke up with her.”

Wes didn’t move. The weight of those words hung heavy in the air. His voice was cautious when he spoke again.

“Because of last night?”

Mason finally turned to face him, his expression unreadable but not cold. “Because of a lot of things. But yeah. That pushed it over.”

Wes stared at him, heart hammering. “Are you okay?”

Mason looked at him for a long time, then gave a tired, almost sad smile. “I don’t know. I think so.”

He crawled back onto the bed, settling beside Wes—not touching him yet, just close.

“I’ve been lying to myself for a long time,” he said quietly. “About how unhappy I was with her. This trip is helping open my eyes to that and to how I feel”

Wes swallowed. “And how do you feel?”

Mason hesitated, then reached out and touched Wes’s hand—fingers lacing gently through his.

“I don’t have all the answers yet,” he said. “But I know last night wasn’t a mistake.”

Wes let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and gave a small, genuine smile.

“Okay,” he said. “That’s enough for me.”

For now.



More: Get more from JaxxStories on Patreon

So so good, don’t stop! Need more!

 

[hungnola9]

Part 5:

Mason’s expression was steady. “I want to try something else,” he said. His voice was calm, but there was a nervous energy buzzing underneath. “If you’re okay with that.”

Wes nodded, heart pounding. “I just need a shower first.”

Mason smiled faintly. “Mind if I join?”

⸻

Steam filled the space quickly. The water was hot, washing away the cool mountain air that had clung to their skin all day.

Wes stepped in first, tilting his face under the spray, letting the water pour over his hair, his shoulders, his chest. He felt Mason enter behind him, the shift in air as he stepped in and pulled the door shut.

For a moment, they just stood there, shoulder to shoulder, letting the water move around them. Their dicks still soft, but twitching.

Mason’s hands slid up Wes’s back—tentative at first, then bolder. He pressed his lips to the nape of Wes’s neck, wet and warm.

Wes exhaled slowly, eyes closed.

The tension that had been humming between them all day now had somewhere to go—melting under hot water, in quiet touches, in soft exhales and slow glances.

Mason turned Wes gently to face him, palms resting on his hips. Their foreheads bumped together, and they stood like that, the water cascading around them, lips barely brushing.

“You sure about this?” Wes asked quietly, eyes searching his.

Mason nodded, throat working. “Yeah,” he said. “I want this.”

Wes leaned in and kissed him—soft and deep, tasting heat and bourbon and something more as Mason returned the kiss and held onto him.

The water had long since turned their skin a pinkish red hue from the heat, but neither of them moved to shut it off. Mason’s fingers trailed down Wes’s sides, reverent and slow, like he was memorizing him by touch. Wes leaned into it, the weight of Mason’s hands steadying him in a way nothing else could.

Their lips met again—slippery, mouths open and breathing into each other. Mason deepened the kiss, a low sound catching in his throat when Wes reached down and stroked him under the stream.

Eventually, Wes pulled back slightly, his forehead still resting against Mason’s. “Wait for me in the room, I need to clean myself out.”

Mason nodded, but his hands lingered on Wes’s waist a second longer before he turned and exited the shower.

He toweled off before making his way out of the steamy bathroom.

Wes finished up and walked back into the bedroom still towel-clad. He sat at the edge of the bed, his fingers rubbing at the towel’s hem like he wasn’t quite sure what to do next.

Mason was sitting on the couch, hitting his vape and bouncing his knee in anticipation.

His hair was damp and messy, his skin still flushed from the heat. He didn’t say anything—just stood, dropped his towel, walked over, and stood in front of Wes.

Wes looked up at him, expression unreadable but open. Mason leaned down, cupped Wes’s face in both hands, and kissed him again—this time slower, more certain.

Wes let himself be guided back onto the bed, Mason’s body pressing gently over his. Wes’ towel slipped away as they lay together, bare skin meeting in a shiver of warmth and nerves.

Wes rolled them, straddling Mason’s thighs. He kissed his way down his chest, tongue flicking at a nipple just to hear Mason’s breath hitch, before continuing downward, hands skimming firm muscle and soft skin. He paused just above Mason’s hips, looking up with a quiet sort of question.

Mason nodded.

Wes took him into his mouth, slowly, deliberately, one hand holding Mason’s hip steady while the other stroked at the base. Mason exhaled sharply, his hands fisting the sheets, eyes fluttering closed. His voice came out ragged.

“Wes…”

Wes continued—his mouth moved in practiced, patient rhythm, but there was emotion in it too, something deeper than just pleasure.

After a few minutes, he pulled back with a soft pop, his lips flushed, his hand still wrapped gently around Mason.

Wes looked up. “Are you ready?”

Mason leaned up and kissed Wes again as his hand reached for the small bag on the nightstand. He pulled out the lube and condoms, then looked down at Wes with a small, almost nervous smile.

“You trust me?”

Wes nodded without hesitation. “Yeah.”

Mason’s touch was careful at first—slick fingers exploring with gentle, patient pressure. He watched Wes’s face the whole time, gauging every breath, every twitch of his jaw.

Wes’s breath stopped briefly as Mason eased a finger in, slow and steady. He adjusted easily, his legs falling further apart, inviting more.

“That okay?” Mason asked, voice lower now, rougher.

“Yeah,” Wes said, his voice breathy. “More.”

Mason obliged, adding a second finger, working him open with soft, rhythmic strokes. Wes groaned and arched into the touch, his hands fisting the sheets, his thighs trembling slightly from the building pressure.

“Fuck, Mason…”

Mason kissed him again, deep and messy, then pulled back just enough to tear open the condom and roll it on. He grabbed more lube and slicked himself, hand shaky but determined.

When he lined up, Mason paused, one hand steadying Wes’s hip, the other holding himself in place.

“You sure?” he asked one last time.

Wes nodded, reaching for him. “Fuck me Mason”

Mason pushed in slowly, inch by inch. Wes’s back arched, his mouth dropping open, eyes fluttering shut.

“Jesus,” Mason breathed, the tight heat overwhelming him. “You feel…”

Wes bit his lip, groaning. “Keep going.”

Mason bottomed out with a gasp, his hands gripping Wes’s hips like he was trying to stay grounded. He stayed still at first, letting them both adjust, forehead resting against Wes’s.

“You okay?” he murmured.

Wes nodded again, legs wrapping around Mason’s waist and pulling him in further. “I said FUCK ME.”

Mason started to thrust—slow, deep, each stroke dragging a moan out of Wes’s throat. Their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, sweat starting to slick their skin, the only sounds in the room their heavy breathing, wet skin, the soft creak of the bed beneath them.

Wes clung to him, nails digging into his back, his voice wrecked and breathless.

“Fuck, Mason—don’t stop.”

“I’m not,” Mason panted. “This feels too good to stop.”

He shifted the angle, rolling his hips just right, and Wes cried out, back arching off the bed. Mason pressed a hand to his chest to hold him there, eyes locked on his face.

Wes looked wrecked—flushed, sweaty, his mouth slack with pleasure.

The thrusts kept coming, harder now, more desperate. He was close—too close—but he wanted Wes there with him.

He wrapped a hand around Wes’s cock, stroking him in time with each deep thrust.

“Cum for me,” he whispered against his neck. “I wanna see you.”

Wes tensed beneath him, legs trembling, and let out a ragged moan as he came across both their stomachs, hips jerking up into Mason’s hand.

The sight of it undid Mason. With one more thrust, he buried himself deep and groaned into Wes’s shoulder as he came, his whole body shaking with it.

They collapsed together, breathless and boneless, limbs tangled, hearts racing.

Mason rolled onto his side, slipping out of Wes gently and discarding the condom before pulling Wes against him.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. Just quiet breaths and the soft press of skin on skin.

Eventually, Wes tilted his face up toward Mason’s.

“You’re not freaking out?”

Mason shook his head, one hand tracing idle circles on Wes’s back.

“No,” he whispered. “I’ve never felt more…right.”

Wes’s smile was small, but real. “Me neither.”

Mason leaned in, kissed him again—gentle, unhurried.

And in the silence that followed, they just stayed there—wrapped around each other, no need for explanations.

They quickly fell fast asleep.

_________

The room was quiet, awash in soft gray morning light that filtered through the half-drawn curtains. Wes stirred under the blankets, eyes blinking open slowly. The sheets were still warm beside him, but the space was empty.

He rolled over, the events of last night crashing into him like a quiet, overwhelming tide. His body ached in the way that made it all real. The touches. The heat. Mason’s voice in his ear. The way they’d moved together like they finally understood each other without needing words.

But now the bed was empty.

Wes sat up, heart thudding a little harder than it should have. For a second, panic twisted in his chest—until he glanced toward the window.

Mason was outside, leaning against the wooden railing of their small balcony, wearing nothing but his boxers. His broad back was turned, one hand resting on the railing, the other holding his phone to his ear. Even from a distance, Wes could tell it was a serious conversation. Mason’s posture was rigid, his head bowed slightly, jaw tight.

Wes pulled the sheets around his waist, watching him through the glass. He couldn’t hear anything, but he didn’t need to. There was only one person Mason could be calling.

After several minutes, Mason finally ended the call and stood there for another long moment, unmoving, eyes fixed on the mountains. Then he slipped back inside, shutting the sliding door behind him with a quiet thud.

Wes sat up straighter. “Was that Brooke?”

Mason’s face gave the answer before his mouth did. He rubbed a hand through his hair, nodded, and exhaled slowly as he sat on the edge of the bed, still facing away.

“Yeah,” he said. “I just broke up with her.”

Wes didn’t move. The weight of those words hung heavy in the air. His voice was cautious when he spoke again.

“Because of last night?”

Mason finally turned to face him, his expression unreadable but not cold. “Because of a lot of things. But yeah. That pushed it over.”

Wes stared at him, heart hammering. “Are you okay?”

Mason looked at him for a long time, then gave a tired, almost sad smile. “I don’t know. I think so.”

He crawled back onto the bed, settling beside Wes—not touching him yet, just close.

“I’ve been lying to myself for a long time,” he said quietly. “About how unhappy I was with her. This trip is helping open my eyes to that and to how I feel”

Wes swallowed. “And how do you feel?”

Mason hesitated, then reached out and touched Wes’s hand—fingers lacing gently through his.

“I don’t have all the answers yet,” he said. “But I know last night wasn’t a mistake.”

Wes let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and gave a small, genuine smile.

“Okay,” he said. “That’s enough for me.”

For now.



More: Get more from JaxxStories on Patreon

You’re an excellent writer. I’m enjoying this so much.

 

[hairyjacques]

Amazing writing. I find it so difficult to write in erotic stories in the third person. You make it seem easy, however, and show that it can be done without obscuring the characters’ sensory experiences. Thank you for sharing this!

 

[perrito78]

Me encanto !! Esperando por la continuación!

 

[JaxxStories]

Part 6:

Wes let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and gave a small, genuine smile.

“Okay,” he said. “That’s enough for me.”

For now.

_________



“Then let’s hit the road,” Wes said. “Sun and sand await.”

They drove for a few hours, the mountains shrinking in the rearview and the air getting warmer. Mason took the wheel. Wes handled the playlist. Occasionally they talked about nothing important. The best roadside burritos they’d ever had. A weird sign for a taxidermy museum. Whether seagulls felt existential dread.

There were also long stretches of comfortable silence, broken only by music and the wind from the cracked window. Mason didn’t say much about the breakup, and Wes didn’t push. There was a shift in Mason though, something more confident, if that was even possible. He seemed emboldened. Freed. But also cautious about whatever was going on now. He kept glancing over at Wes like he was checking he was still there.

They arrived at the coast late-afternoon. The beach was tucked behind rows of dunes and crooked palm trees. The AirBnB they booked wasn’t fancy, but it had a deck, an outdoor shower, and a hot tub that looked out toward the water.

Wes stepped inside first, duffel slung over one shoulder. “This doesn’t suck.”

“Nope,” Mason said. He dropped his bag by the door, kicked off his shoes, and flopped onto the couch like he owned the place.

Wes opened the sliding door to the back deck. The ocean stretched out just beyond the tall grass. “I think we’re gonna get sand in every possible place.”

Mason smirked from the couch. “Speak for yourself. I plan to stay extremely horizontal.”

“Sunburned and horizontal.”

“That too.”

⸻

They unpacked a little, tossing clothes in dresser drawers and toiletries on the counter. Mostly they wandered barefoot through the place, poking through cabinets, testing how hot the hot tub was, standing out on the porch until the sun dipped low enough to start painting everything gold.

That night, the idea was to keep it simple: beach walk, takeout, maybe a dip in the hot tub. Neither of them said anything about what might happen later. But it was there, in the back of their minds. It was present in how Mason looked at Wes a little longer than usual, and how Wes kept finding excuses to be in the same space, brushing past him in the small kitchen or leaning against the doorframe while Mason changed.

After they ate, the house was quiet except for the hum of the ceiling fan and the low crash of waves just beyond the dunes. Wes was barefoot in the kitchen, finishing off the last of his drink, while Mason slid the back door open again and stepped out onto the deck. The breeze had cooled. The hot tub though, was steaming.

“You coming?” Mason called.

Wes looked at him through the screen door. “You getting in?”

Mason peeled off his shirt. “It’s the only reason I agreed to this overpriced shack.”

Wes smirked, stepping outside. “You’re such a liar.”

Mason was already undoing his shorts. “True. But I’m still getting in.”

“Swim trunks?”

Mason kicked off the last of his clothes, exposed for anyone walking by on the beach to see and stepped into the tub stark naked. “Nope.”

Wes laughed, slow and dry. “Figures.”

“You scared?”

Wes shook his head and pulled his shirt over his head. “Not even a little.”

By the time he stripped and climbed in, the steam clung to both of them. Mason leaned back, arms stretched along the rim, completely at ease. Wes settled across from him, knees brushing under the surface.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The water sloshed quietly when one of them moved. Beyond the porch, the sky was deep blue and starry, a few distant lights twinkling across the shore.

Their feet bumped under the water, but neither pulled back. Mason’s hand moved lazily along the edge until it dipped under, sliding over to Wes’s leg. He didn’t say anything, just let his fingers drift, slow and unhurried, until they rested on Wes’s thigh.

Wes didn’t stop him. He just looked at him—steady, a little curious, like he was waiting to see what Mason would do next.

Mason didn’t rush. His hand slid higher, finding Wes’ hard cock under the water, touching him with a kind of casual confidence that wasn’t there before. He lightly stroked him as he inched closer. Wes’s head tilted back slightly, his mouth parting as he let out a quiet breath.

After a moment, Wes had had enough teasing and pushed forward, shifting across the tub to straddle Mason’s lap. Their wet bodies slid against each other, and Mason’s hands found his waist, gripping gently.

Their lips connected as Mason’s hard cock found its home nestled between Wes’ ass. No one said anything else for a while. The only noise of their lips parting as they came up for air alongside the distant crash of the ocean waves. Wes ground slowly against him, their bodies pressed close, the contact slick and warm. Mason gripped him tighter and let his head fall forward against Wes’s shoulder, groaning quietly when Wes rocked his hips again, sliding Mason’s cock between his cheeks but not yet inside.

It built slowly like that, a kind of silent rhythm. The heat of the water, the cool air on their backs, the way Wes’s fingers dug into Mason’s arms to steady himself.

Eventually, Mason stood, lifting Wes with him, water cascading off their skin as they stepped out of the tub. Neither of them bothered drying off. They just moved, damp and flushed and hard as ever, back inside and toward the bed, leaving a trail of water behind.

They barely made it inside before Mason turned Wes toward the bed, hands firm on his hips. Still, neither of them spoke. It didn’t feel like a moment for talking.

Wes stepped backward until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. Mason kissed his shoulder once—quick, almost thoughtless—then guided him down.

Wes lay back, wet hair clinging to his forehead, skin still flushed from the hot water. Mason stood at the edge of the bed for a second, just looking at him. His hand ran slowly down Wes’s chest, then lower, following the water droplets with his fingertips.

Then he climbed on top of him. Lifting Wes’ legs in the air as he settled between them.

They moved in sync without really trying. Mason’s hands braced on either side of Wes’s head as Wes slid his legs apart, drawing him closer. Their bodies pressed fully together now, wet skin sticking in places, sliding in others. Wes tilted his hips up as Mason ground his cock down slowly, letting the friction pull a low sound from both of them.

Mason paused long enough to reach for the small bottle on the nightstand—left there earlier, a quiet suggestion now turned decision. He lubed up his finger and slowly inserted it, opening Wes up for him. He worked his way in and out until he was prepared enough to take a second finger. Wes moaned as Mason worked it in, twisting and stretching him.

Mason moved slow, deliberate—eyes flicking down to Wes, watching him react, his mouth slack, chest rising faster. Wes didn’t look away. His hand gripped the sheet, then reached for Mason’s shoulder.

When he was fully relaxed and open, Mason finally pushed his cock forward, inserting himself inside. Wes tensed—his breath caught, not from pain, but from focus. Mason leaned down, forehead resting against Wes’s as they adjusted to each other, as Wes’s hands moved to Mason’s back, pulling him deeper inside.

There was no rush. Just a slow, steady rhythm. Mason moved with intent, each roll of his hips pushing further than the last, and Wes took all of it, one arm wrapped around Mason’s ribs, the other gripping his bicep hard enough to leave marks. Neither of them talked other than the occasional “Fuuuuck”.

The room filled with the sounds of them—bodies shifting, breath picking up, small grunts and sighs that neither tried to hold back. Mason kept one hand under Wes’s thigh, pulling him closer with every thrust. Wes arched up into him, chasing the friction, the heat, the pulse that kept building between them.

It went on like that for a long time—unrushed, intense. Almost slow motion. Mason’s cock slid in and out with a precision that was almost calculated. Just slow enough to prolong the moment, but fast enough to keep Wes and himself on the edge of orgasm.

When Mason finally came, it hit hard, his whole body tightening above Wes’s, muscles trembling, breath caught in his throat. He pushed all the way inside Wes’ ass as he unleashed his seed. Tears in his eyes as the intensity of his orgasm overtook him. He didn’t pull away immediately. Just collapsed gently onto Wes, forehead tucked into the side of his neck.

They stayed tangled like that for a while, damp and spent, the air cooling against their skin.

Eventually, Mason withdrew his softening member and just looked at Wes. “You didn’t cum” he said. Half statement, half question.

“I got everything I needed” Wes replied, pulling Mason in for another kiss.

Mason didn’t say anything. He just reached out blindly for the blanket and pulled it over them as their lips connected, then let his hand settle on Wes’s chest as his breathing slowed.

Wes stared at the ceiling, one arm curled behind Mason’s head, his fingers brushing through damp hair as they both drifted off into sleep.

_________

The next morning, the sun was already blazing by the time they made it down to the beach. Wes had thrown on a cutoff tank and swim trunks, sandals in one hand, sketchbook in the other. Mason, half-asleep, carried towels, a Bluetooth speaker, and a bottle of sunscreen he’d grabbed last minute from the bathroom.

They found a quiet spot, rolled out the towels, and settled in. A few other people dotted the shoreline, but the stretch they claimed was relatively empty…just open sky, salt in the air, and the ocean stretching out forever.

“You’re gonna fry,” Wes said, glancing at Mason’s pale, bare shoulders. “You didn’t even bring a hat.”

“I’m fine,” Mason muttered, already lying back and closing his eyes.

Wes rolled his eyes and popped open the sunscreen. “Nope. Sit up.”

Mason groaned but complied, resting back on his hands while Wes moved in behind him. He squirted a generous line of sunscreen across Mason’s shoulders and started rubbing it in with slow, steady strokes. The heat from the sun had already warmed his skin, and it was firm under Wes’s palms—shoulders tight, neck damp with sweat.

“You missed your calling,” Mason said, voice low. “You could’ve been a masseur.”

Wes smirked. “Don’t get any ideas playboy. This is strictly medicinal.”

He worked down Mason’s back, fingers pressing in a little deeper near his shoulder blades. Then he moved around to straddle his legs and started on his chest. Mason raised an eyebrow.

“Now who’s getting ideas?”

Wes kept his expression neutral. “Just trying to make sure your delicate skin survives the day.”

But the more he rubbed the lotion in—across Mason’s pecs, down the front of his stomach—the more focused he became. His hands slowed. He swallowed. His shorts started to tighten as his dick began to rise. And Mason noticed.

“Oh my god,” Mason said, grinning. “Are you hard right now?” He reached out to tap on the tent in Wes’ shorts.

Wes laughed and leaned away, grabbing the bottle again. “Shut up.”

“You are.” Mason sat up straighter, amused. “You can’t contain yourself for even a minute can you?”

“How could I not get turned on? I mean…look at you.”

Mason just grinned and lay back down like a king being tended to.

Eventually, they both got fully covered, flipped, and tanned for a while. Then came swimming—brief, cold, loud—and floating close together in the waves. They stayed out in the water longer than they planned, goofing off, splashing each other, drifting into lazy touches beneath the surface. Wes’s hand slid casually into Mason’s trunks more than once, and Mason didn’t stop him. Mason himself even let his hands travel down the back of Wes’ trunks, gripping his ass like it belonged to him.

By late afternoon, they were sun-drunk and ready to crash. They put their shirts back on and walked back to the bungalow slowly, towels around their necks, sand stuck to their legs.

They stepped up to the outdoor shower by the deck and rinsed their legs off as much as they could.

Once inside, Mason dropped onto the couch and groaned.

Wes raised an eyebrow. “That didn’t sound good.”

“Even with your generous sunscreen lathering, I’m roasted.” Mason sat up and twisted to look over his shoulder under his shirt. “Holy hell. Feel that.”

Wes touched between his shoulder blades and winced. “Yeah, you’re screwed. Take your clothes off.”

Mason shot him a look. “You don’t waste time, huh?”

“Not like that,” Wes said, grinning. “You need aloe. Now.”

“Yes, doctor” Mason joked as he peeled his shirt off and let it fall to the floor. Then he stood, looking tired and red and slightly smug, and shimmied out of his swim trunks too.

“Better?”

Wes quickly glanced at his soft cock while shaking the bottle of aloe. “Face the bed.”

Mason lay down on his stomach, and Wes climbed up beside him. The aloe was cool against Mason’s back, and he flinched a little at first, but stayed still as Wes started rubbing it in, gentler than earlier, careful with the burnt skin. His hands moved in slow, steady passes from Mason’s shoulders down to the small of his back, working over every inch.

Then Wes shifted lower, straddling his legs. His hands moved to Mason’s thighs, then inwards, thumbs grazing his ass and the back of his balls just slightly.

Mason glanced back over his shoulder with a smirk. “You’re not just doing my sunburn anymore.”

Wes smiled. “Nope.”

He leaned forward and kissed along the edge of Mason’s spine. Mason rolled onto his back without being asked.

Wes didn’t waste time. He knelt between Mason’s legs, face level with his dick, hands firm on his hips, and lowered his head.

Mason’s breath caught—just briefly—before his hand found the back of Wes’s neck. His soft cock began to harden in Wes’ mouth and he pulled him deeper on it, feeling as Wes lapped at every inch. He lay back, eyes shut, lips parted, letting Wes take his time.

And Wes did take his time. Mason’s body shifted under him, hips twitching with each pass, his hand tightening in Wes’s hair.

Wes worked slowly. Painfully slow. His mouth creeping up and down while his tongue circled around Mason’s shaft. Mason bucked up, pressing into him more, before pulling down faster. His hips fucking into Wes’s mouth with a rhythm faster than Wes had set.

Wes grabbed onto Mason’s balls with one hand and pulled them gently away from his body while his other slid down to play with ass. Mason tensed at first, but he trusted his friend and eased into it. Wes applied pressure to Mason’s hole before slowly sliding a knuckle inside.

As Wes pushed deeper inside him, his cock still in his mouth, Mason felt something he’d never experienced. His ass was unexplored territory, but as Wes curled his finger slowly, he suddenly felt a whole new world of pleasure. He couldn’t hold back. When he began to cum, he didn’t say anything—he just gasped, loud and rough, his whole body tensing as Wes held him steady, swallowing every spray that came out.

After his orgasm subsided, Wes removed his finger and rested his chin on Mason’s stomach, smiling faintly.

Mason looked down at him, flushed, completely dazed. “Your bedside manner’s immaculate, doctor.”

“You’re welcome,” Wes said.

They didn’t move for a while. Just let the late-afternoon light warm the sheets and the faint burn of the sun remind them they were still on vacation.


More: Get more from JaxxStories on Patreon

 

[JaxxStories]

Part 7:

Mason looked down at him, flushed, completely dazed. “Your bedside manner’s immaculate, doctor.”

“You’re welcome,” Wes said.

They didn’t move for a while. Just let the late-afternoon light warm the sheets and the faint burn of the sun remind them they were still on vacation.

__________

By early evening, the air had cooled just enough to make being outside pleasant again. After a long nap tangled in half-damp sheets, they both roused slowly, quietly, with the kind of easy comfort that had settled into their rhythm lately. Mason padded around the bungalow naked, nursing a Gatorade and scrolling through local restaurant reviews. Wes lay belly-down on the couch sketching, his bare, pale ass up in the air.

“You want seafood?” Mason asked, glancing up from his phone.

“As long as I don’t have to pick out a live lobster, I’m good.”

They ended up at a little dockside place tucked under string lights and weathered wood. The food was simple: fish tacos, cold beer, fries in a paper-lined basket…but it hit right. They ate with bare arms brushing, knees touching sometimes under the table. Wes caught Mason watching him a few times and didn’t say anything.

On the walk back, they took the long way along the beach. The tide was higher now, waves washing just shy of their feet. Mason walked a little slower than usual, dragging his fingers through the surf. Wes watched him out of the corner of his eye.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Mason said. “Just thinking.”

Back at the bungalow, they didn’t turn on any lights. Mason headed to the kitchen for water while Wes stepped out onto the small deck. The ocean wasn’t visible, but you could hear it…steady, rhythmic, a kind of background hush. The hot tub was bubbling, steam curling in the cooler night air. Wes dipped a finger in.

“Still warm,” he called.

Mason stepped out a moment later, two glasses in hand. “We earned it.”

They stripped their clothes off and slid in, water lapping at their shoulders. It felt different than the first time. Less about the thrill of doing something bold, more about being in the moment. Wes floated toward Mason, who opened his arms without a word.

Their mouths met, slow and heavy. Mason shifted, pulling Wes onto his lap, hands steady at his waist. Mason’s cock began to harden the second Wes mounted him. Neither of them rushed it. The heat, the buzz of the evening, the way their bodies already knew each other—it was all there, just beneath the surface.

The continued like this. Wes in Mason’s lap, grinding on him as they both whimpered and moaned in delight. Mason grabbed Wes’ cock and gave it purposeful strokes as he pressed his own against his friend’s ass.

After many kisses and gropes, they eventually made their way inside again, wet footprints trailing behind them.

The door slid shut behind them with a soft click, and the hush of the beach night settled in around the house. The scent of ocean air still clung to their skin. Mason moved toward the couch, then paused, something in his body language had shifted. Wes noticed it immediately.

“What?” Wes asked.

Mason turned slowly. “I just…” He looked toward Wes with a quiet seriousness in his eyes. “There’s something I wanna try tonight.”

Wes stepped in closer, heart ticking faster. “Okay…”

“I want you to fuck me,” Mason said, the words low but direct. Then softer, “I mean, like…me on the bottom. I want to try it.”

Wes blinked, absorbing it. “You sure?”

Mason’s tongue flicked over his bottom lip. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it since you played with my ass earlier. That felt really good and…I want to feel more. I want to feel you. I want to know what that’s like.”

Wes stepped closer, cupped his jaw, and kissed him—not hungrily, but with a kind of reverence. “Whatever you want,” he whispered.

They moved toward the bed slowly, trading kisses and light touches. Mason’s hands were steady, but there was a tightness in his breath. Wes let his fingers trail across his back, up his spine, until Mason relaxed into the touch.

Wes guided him to the bed. Mason lay back, legs slightly apart, erection already firm. Wes kissed down his body…chest, stomach, hips…before letting his lips wrap around Mason’s throbbing cock, slow and deep. Mason groaned, one hand sliding into Wes’s hair.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Mason breathed.

Wes took his time. He wanted Mason soft, pliant, ready. He slicked his fingers and kissed his way lower, nudging Mason’s thighs apart and trailing slow kisses along the inner flesh. He spread his cheeks apart and circled Mason’s hole with his tongue before pressing in lightly.

“Woah, what are you…oh my god…ohhhhh” Mason groaned.

“Shhh…trust me” Wes whispered before burying his tongue back in Mason’s ass. Tongue-fucking Mason for the first time. Mason closed his legs around Wes’ head, pulling him in closer…further into him.

Eventually Wes added a lubed fingertip, gentle and teasing.

Mason’s breath caught. “Yeah… go ahead.”

Wes pressed in slowly, just the tip of his finger, watching Mason’s face. Mason’s mouth parted but he didn’t pull away. He inhaled deeply and let his body open.

Mason whispered between moans, “Keep going.”

Wes worked the single finger deeper, then added a second. Mason gasped at the stretch but didn’t stop him. His legs shifted wider, body adjusting to the pressure. Wes curled his fingers slightly, searching…and when he hit the right spot, Mason flinched, then moaned louder.

“There?” Wes teased.

“Yeah,” Mason groaned. “Right fucking there.” as he pressed down onto Wes’ hand.

When Wes finally lubed himself and lined up between Mason’s legs, he hovered, bracing himself on his arms.

“This is my first time topping, tell me if you want me to stop.”

Mason nodded. His thighs trembled slightly, but his gaze didn’t waver.

Wes pressed in slowly. The head of his cock breached Mason’s rim and Mason tensed, a sharp breath drawn in through his nose.

“You’re okay,” Wes whispered. “You’re doing good.”

Mason nodded again, squeezing Wes’s wrist. “Keep going.”

Wes slid in deeper, inch by inch. The stretch was intense. Wes could feel Mason’s body gripping him tight, adjusting, pulling him in. Mason’s eyes fluttered shut, his lip caught between his teeth. A soft, low sound escaped his throat, somewhere between a groan and a gasp.

“God, you feel amazing,” Wes murmured, forehead resting against Mason’s.

Mason arched slightly, letting his legs wrap around Wes’s waist. “You can move faster.”

Wes rocked his hips gently, pulling out just an inch before sliding back in. Mason’s hands gripped his back. He groaned as Wes thrust again, a little deeper this time.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Mason whispered. “It’s so different…but good.”

Wes kissed him deeply, their mouths moving in sync with their bodies. The rhythm built, slow at first, then stronger, deeper. Mason adjusted to each thrust, his moans growing louder, breath growing rougher. Every push of Wes’s cock brushed against that spot inside him that made his toes curl.

“God,” Mason breathed. “I didn’t know it’d feel like this.”

Wes’s body was flush against his now, his pace steady but full. He gripped Mason’s thigh, angling deeper, drawing out another sharp cry from Mason’s throat.

Mason’s cock, slick and leaking, pressed between their bellies. Wes reached between them, stroking him in rhythm with each thrust. Mason’s whole body arched…he was trembling now, on the edge.

“I’m gonna—fuck, Wes, I’m gonna—”

“Let it go,” Wes whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Mason came hard, his whole body shuddering, cum spraying between them. His muscles clenched tight around Wes, pulling him deeper, and Wes followed with a groan, burying himself as he came with a few final, deep thrusts.

They both were panting hard, recovering from this new territory they’d just entered.

After a while, Wes still buried inside Mason, they caught their breath and he withdrew his softening cock and collapsed beside Mason on the bed. They lay in the quiet, their skin sticky, hearts pounding. Wes brushed the hair from Mason’s forehead and kissed his cheek.

Mason smiled faintly, a little dazed. “So…that was new.”

Wes chuckled, still catching his breath. “Yeah. You were incredible.”

Mason turned, pressing closer, his voice soft and sincere. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

Wes wrapped an arm around him. “Me neither. I guess this means we’re vers now.” he said with a chuckle.

“I don’t know what that means, but if we get to do that again, then you’re right”

“I’ve got so much to teach you” Wes said planting a kiss on Mason’s lips.

They lay like that, bodies tangled, the ocean just barely audible through the open window, as the room cooled around them and everything else stilled.

More: Get more from JaxxStories on Patreon

 

[perrito78]

Genial !!! Muy caliente

 

[jack-slater7]

Part 7:

Mason looked down at him, flushed, completely dazed. “Your bedside manner’s immaculate, doctor.”

“You’re welcome,” Wes said.

They didn’t move for a while. Just let the late-afternoon light warm the sheets and the faint burn of the sun remind them they were still on vacation.

__________

By early evening, the air had cooled just enough to make being outside pleasant again. After a long nap tangled in half-damp sheets, they both roused slowly, quietly, with the kind of easy comfort that had settled into their rhythm lately. Mason padded around the bungalow naked, nursing a Gatorade and scrolling through local restaurant reviews. Wes lay belly-down on the couch sketching, his bare, pale ass up in the air.

“You want seafood?” Mason asked, glancing up from his phone.

“As long as I don’t have to pick out a live lobster, I’m good.”

They ended up at a little dockside place tucked under string lights and weathered wood. The food was simple: fish tacos, cold beer, fries in a paper-lined basket…but it hit right. They ate with bare arms brushing, knees touching sometimes under the table. Wes caught Mason watching him a few times and didn’t say anything.

On the walk back, they took the long way along the beach. The tide was higher now, waves washing just shy of their feet. Mason walked a little slower than usual, dragging his fingers through the surf. Wes watched him out of the corner of his eye.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Mason said. “Just thinking.”

Back at the bungalow, they didn’t turn on any lights. Mason headed to the kitchen for water while Wes stepped out onto the small deck. The ocean wasn’t visible, but you could hear it…steady, rhythmic, a kind of background hush. The hot tub was bubbling, steam curling in the cooler night air. Wes dipped a finger in.

“Still warm,” he called.

Mason stepped out a moment later, two glasses in hand. “We earned it.”

They stripped their clothes off and slid in, water lapping at their shoulders. It felt different than the first time. Less about the thrill of doing something bold, more about being in the moment. Wes floated toward Mason, who opened his arms without a word.

Their mouths met, slow and heavy. Mason shifted, pulling Wes onto his lap, hands steady at his waist. Mason’s cock began to harden the second Wes mounted him. Neither of them rushed it. The heat, the buzz of the evening, the way their bodies already knew each other—it was all there, just beneath the surface.

The continued like this. Wes in Mason’s lap, grinding on him as they both whimpered and moaned in delight. Mason grabbed Wes’ cock and gave it purposeful strokes as he pressed his own against his friend’s ass.

After many kisses and gropes, they eventually made their way inside again, wet footprints trailing behind them.

The door slid shut behind them with a soft click, and the hush of the beach night settled in around the house. The scent of ocean air still clung to their skin. Mason moved toward the couch, then paused, something in his body language had shifted. Wes noticed it immediately.

“What?” Wes asked.

Mason turned slowly. “I just…” He looked toward Wes with a quiet seriousness in his eyes. “There’s something I wanna try tonight.”

Wes stepped in closer, heart ticking faster. “Okay…”

“I want you to fuck me,” Mason said, the words low but direct. Then softer, “I mean, like…me on the bottom. I want to try it.”

Wes blinked, absorbing it. “You sure?”

Mason’s tongue flicked over his bottom lip. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it since you played with my ass earlier. That felt really good and…I want to feel more. I want to feel you. I want to know what that’s like.”

Wes stepped closer, cupped his jaw, and kissed him—not hungrily, but with a kind of reverence. “Whatever you want,” he whispered.

They moved toward the bed slowly, trading kisses and light touches. Mason’s hands were steady, but there was a tightness in his breath. Wes let his fingers trail across his back, up his spine, until Mason relaxed into the touch.

Wes guided him to the bed. Mason lay back, legs slightly apart, erection already firm. Wes kissed down his body…chest, stomach, hips…before letting his lips wrap around Mason’s throbbing cock, slow and deep. Mason groaned, one hand sliding into Wes’s hair.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Mason breathed.

Wes took his time. He wanted Mason soft, pliant, ready. He slicked his fingers and kissed his way lower, nudging Mason’s thighs apart and trailing slow kisses along the inner flesh. He spread his cheeks apart and circled Mason’s hole with his tongue before pressing in lightly.

“Woah, what are you…oh my god…ohhhhh” Mason groaned.

“Shhh…trust me” Wes whispered before burying his tongue back in Mason’s ass. Tongue-fucking Mason for the first time. Mason closed his legs around Wes’ head, pulling him in closer…further into him.

Eventually Wes added a lubed fingertip, gentle and teasing.

Mason’s breath caught. “Yeah… go ahead.”

Wes pressed in slowly, just the tip of his finger, watching Mason’s face. Mason’s mouth parted but he didn’t pull away. He inhaled deeply and let his body open.

Mason whispered between moans, “Keep going.”

Wes worked the single finger deeper, then added a second. Mason gasped at the stretch but didn’t stop him. His legs shifted wider, body adjusting to the pressure. Wes curled his fingers slightly, searching…and when he hit the right spot, Mason flinched, then moaned louder.

“There?” Wes teased.

“Yeah,” Mason groaned. “Right fucking there.” as he pressed down onto Wes’ hand.

When Wes finally lubed himself and lined up between Mason’s legs, he hovered, bracing himself on his arms.

“This is my first time topping, tell me if you want me to stop.”

Mason nodded. His thighs trembled slightly, but his gaze didn’t waver.

Wes pressed in slowly. The head of his cock breached Mason’s rim and Mason tensed, a sharp breath drawn in through his nose.

“You’re okay,” Wes whispered. “You’re doing good.”

Mason nodded again, squeezing Wes’s wrist. “Keep going.”

Wes slid in deeper, inch by inch. The stretch was intense. Wes could feel Mason’s body gripping him tight, adjusting, pulling him in. Mason’s eyes fluttered shut, his lip caught between his teeth. A soft, low sound escaped his throat, somewhere between a groan and a gasp.

“God, you feel amazing,” Wes murmured, forehead resting against Mason’s.

Mason arched slightly, letting his legs wrap around Wes’s waist. “You can move faster.”

Wes rocked his hips gently, pulling out just an inch before sliding back in. Mason’s hands gripped his back. He groaned as Wes thrust again, a little deeper this time.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Mason whispered. “It’s so different…but good.”

Wes kissed him deeply, their mouths moving in sync with their bodies. The rhythm built, slow at first, then stronger, deeper. Mason adjusted to each thrust, his moans growing louder, breath growing rougher. Every push of Wes’s cock brushed against that spot inside him that made his toes curl.

“God,” Mason breathed. “I didn’t know it’d feel like this.”

Wes’s body was flush against his now, his pace steady but full. He gripped Mason’s thigh, angling deeper, drawing out another sharp cry from Mason’s throat.

Mason’s cock, slick and leaking, pressed between their bellies. Wes reached between them, stroking him in rhythm with each thrust. Mason’s whole body arched…he was trembling now, on the edge.

“I’m gonna—fuck, Wes, I’m gonna—”

“Let it go,” Wes whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Mason came hard, his whole body shuddering, cum spraying between them. His muscles clenched tight around Wes, pulling him deeper, and Wes followed with a groan, burying himself as he came with a few final, deep thrusts.

They both were panting hard, recovering from this new territory they’d just entered.

After a while, Wes still buried inside Mason, they caught their breath and he withdrew his softening cock and collapsed beside Mason on the bed. They lay in the quiet, their skin sticky, hearts pounding. Wes brushed the hair from Mason’s forehead and kissed his cheek.

Mason smiled faintly, a little dazed. “So…that was new.”

Wes chuckled, still catching his breath. “Yeah. You were incredible.”

Mason turned, pressing closer, his voice soft and sincere. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

Wes wrapped an arm around him. “Me neither. I guess this means we’re vers now.” he said with a chuckle.

“I don’t know what that means, but if we get to do that again, then you’re right”

“I’ve got so much to teach you” Wes said planting a kiss on Mason’s lips.

They lay like that, bodies tangled, the ocean just barely audible through the open window, as the room cooled around them and everything else stilled.

More: Get more from JaxxStories on Patreon

YES, dude. Manly Mason wanting to try his buddy's cock is so dang hot.

 

[fmbttm]

Part 7:

Mason looked down at him, flushed, completely dazed. “Your bedside manner’s immaculate, doctor.”

“You’re welcome,” Wes said.

They didn’t move for a while. Just let the late-afternoon light warm the sheets and the faint burn of the sun remind them they were still on vacation.

__________

By early evening, the air had cooled just enough to make being outside pleasant again. After a long nap tangled in half-damp sheets, they both roused slowly, quietly, with the kind of easy comfort that had settled into their rhythm lately. Mason padded around the bungalow naked, nursing a Gatorade and scrolling through local restaurant reviews. Wes lay belly-down on the couch sketching, his bare, pale ass up in the air.

“You want seafood?” Mason asked, glancing up from his phone.

“As long as I don’t have to pick out a live lobster, I’m good.”

They ended up at a little dockside place tucked under string lights and weathered wood. The food was simple: fish tacos, cold beer, fries in a paper-lined basket…but it hit right. They ate with bare arms brushing, knees touching sometimes under the table. Wes caught Mason watching him a few times and didn’t say anything.

On the walk back, they took the long way along the beach. The tide was higher now, waves washing just shy of their feet. Mason walked a little slower than usual, dragging his fingers through the surf. Wes watched him out of the corner of his eye.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Mason said. “Just thinking.”

Back at the bungalow, they didn’t turn on any lights. Mason headed to the kitchen for water while Wes stepped out onto the small deck. The ocean wasn’t visible, but you could hear it…steady, rhythmic, a kind of background hush. The hot tub was bubbling, steam curling in the cooler night air. Wes dipped a finger in.

“Still warm,” he called.

Mason stepped out a moment later, two glasses in hand. “We earned it.”

They stripped their clothes off and slid in, water lapping at their shoulders. It felt different than the first time. Less about the thrill of doing something bold, more about being in the moment. Wes floated toward Mason, who opened his arms without a word.

Their mouths met, slow and heavy. Mason shifted, pulling Wes onto his lap, hands steady at his waist. Mason’s cock began to harden the second Wes mounted him. Neither of them rushed it. The heat, the buzz of the evening, the way their bodies already knew each other—it was all there, just beneath the surface.

The continued like this. Wes in Mason’s lap, grinding on him as they both whimpered and moaned in delight. Mason grabbed Wes’ cock and gave it purposeful strokes as he pressed his own against his friend’s ass.

After many kisses and gropes, they eventually made their way inside again, wet footprints trailing behind them.

The door slid shut behind them with a soft click, and the hush of the beach night settled in around the house. The scent of ocean air still clung to their skin. Mason moved toward the couch, then paused, something in his body language had shifted. Wes noticed it immediately.

“What?” Wes asked.

Mason turned slowly. “I just…” He looked toward Wes with a quiet seriousness in his eyes. “There’s something I wanna try tonight.”

Wes stepped in closer, heart ticking faster. “Okay…”

“I want you to fuck me,” Mason said, the words low but direct. Then softer, “I mean, like…me on the bottom. I want to try it.”

Wes blinked, absorbing it. “You sure?”

Mason’s tongue flicked over his bottom lip. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it since you played with my ass earlier. That felt really good and…I want to feel more. I want to feel you. I want to know what that’s like.”

Wes stepped closer, cupped his jaw, and kissed him—not hungrily, but with a kind of reverence. “Whatever you want,” he whispered.

They moved toward the bed slowly, trading kisses and light touches. Mason’s hands were steady, but there was a tightness in his breath. Wes let his fingers trail across his back, up his spine, until Mason relaxed into the touch.

Wes guided him to the bed. Mason lay back, legs slightly apart, erection already firm. Wes kissed down his body…chest, stomach, hips…before letting his lips wrap around Mason’s throbbing cock, slow and deep. Mason groaned, one hand sliding into Wes’s hair.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Mason breathed.

Wes took his time. He wanted Mason soft, pliant, ready. He slicked his fingers and kissed his way lower, nudging Mason’s thighs apart and trailing slow kisses along the inner flesh. He spread his cheeks apart and circled Mason’s hole with his tongue before pressing in lightly.

“Woah, what are you…oh my god…ohhhhh” Mason groaned.

“Shhh…trust me” Wes whispered before burying his tongue back in Mason’s ass. Tongue-fucking Mason for the first time. Mason closed his legs around Wes’ head, pulling him in closer…further into him.

Eventually Wes added a lubed fingertip, gentle and teasing.

Mason’s breath caught. “Yeah… go ahead.”

Wes pressed in slowly, just the tip of his finger, watching Mason’s face. Mason’s mouth parted but he didn’t pull away. He inhaled deeply and let his body open.

Mason whispered between moans, “Keep going.”

Wes worked the single finger deeper, then added a second. Mason gasped at the stretch but didn’t stop him. His legs shifted wider, body adjusting to the pressure. Wes curled his fingers slightly, searching…and when he hit the right spot, Mason flinched, then moaned louder.

“There?” Wes teased.

“Yeah,” Mason groaned. “Right fucking there.” as he pressed down onto Wes’ hand.

When Wes finally lubed himself and lined up between Mason’s legs, he hovered, bracing himself on his arms.

“This is my first time topping, tell me if you want me to stop.”

Mason nodded. His thighs trembled slightly, but his gaze didn’t waver.

Wes pressed in slowly. The head of his cock breached Mason’s rim and Mason tensed, a sharp breath drawn in through his nose.

“You’re okay,” Wes whispered. “You’re doing good.”

Mason nodded again, squeezing Wes’s wrist. “Keep going.”

Wes slid in deeper, inch by inch. The stretch was intense. Wes could feel Mason’s body gripping him tight, adjusting, pulling him in. Mason’s eyes fluttered shut, his lip caught between his teeth. A soft, low sound escaped his throat, somewhere between a groan and a gasp.

“God, you feel amazing,” Wes murmured, forehead resting against Mason’s.

Mason arched slightly, letting his legs wrap around Wes’s waist. “You can move faster.”

Wes rocked his hips gently, pulling out just an inch before sliding back in. Mason’s hands gripped his back. He groaned as Wes thrust again, a little deeper this time.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Mason whispered. “It’s so different…but good.”

Wes kissed him deeply, their mouths moving in sync with their bodies. The rhythm built, slow at first, then stronger, deeper. Mason adjusted to each thrust, his moans growing louder, breath growing rougher. Every push of Wes’s cock brushed against that spot inside him that made his toes curl.

“God,” Mason breathed. “I didn’t know it’d feel like this.”

Wes’s body was flush against his now, his pace steady but full. He gripped Mason’s thigh, angling deeper, drawing out another sharp cry from Mason’s throat.

Mason’s cock, slick and leaking, pressed between their bellies. Wes reached between them, stroking him in rhythm with each thrust. Mason’s whole body arched…he was trembling now, on the edge.

“I’m gonna—fuck, Wes, I’m gonna—”

“Let it go,” Wes whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Mason came hard, his whole body shuddering, cum spraying between them. His muscles clenched tight around Wes, pulling him deeper, and Wes followed with a groan, burying himself as he came with a few final, deep thrusts.

They both were panting hard, recovering from this new territory they’d just entered.

After a while, Wes still buried inside Mason, they caught their breath and he withdrew his softening cock and collapsed beside Mason on the bed. They lay in the quiet, their skin sticky, hearts pounding. Wes brushed the hair from Mason’s forehead and kissed his cheek.

Mason smiled faintly, a little dazed. “So…that was new.”

Wes chuckled, still catching his breath. “Yeah. You were incredible.”

Mason turned, pressing closer, his voice soft and sincere. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

Wes wrapped an arm around him. “Me neither. I guess this means we’re vers now.” he said with a chuckle.

“I don’t know what that means, but if we get to do that again, then you’re right”

“I’ve got so much to teach you” Wes said planting a kiss on Mason’s lips.

They lay like that, bodies tangled, the ocean just barely audible through the open window, as the room cooled around them and everything else stilled.

More: Get more from JaxxStories on Patreon

Yeah Mason opening up and wanting to bottom was crazy hotttt!!

 

[JSF777]

good story. keep them coming

 

[Codger]

Part 7:

Mason looked down at him, flushed, completely dazed. “Your bedside manner’s immaculate, doctor.”

“You’re welcome,” Wes said.

They didn’t move for a while. Just let the late-afternoon light warm the sheets and the faint burn of the sun remind them they were still on vacation.

__________

By early evening, the air had cooled just enough to make being outside pleasant again. After a long nap tangled in half-damp sheets, they both roused slowly, quietly, with the kind of easy comfort that had settled into their rhythm lately. Mason padded around the bungalow naked, nursing a Gatorade and scrolling through local restaurant reviews. Wes lay belly-down on the couch sketching, his bare, pale ass up in the air.

“You want seafood?” Mason asked, glancing up from his phone.

“As long as I don’t have to pick out a live lobster, I’m good.”

They ended up at a little dockside place tucked under string lights and weathered wood. The food was simple: fish tacos, cold beer, fries in a paper-lined basket…but it hit right. They ate with bare arms brushing, knees touching sometimes under the table. Wes caught Mason watching him a few times and didn’t say anything.

On the walk back, they took the long way along the beach. The tide was higher now, waves washing just shy of their feet. Mason walked a little slower than usual, dragging his fingers through the surf. Wes watched him out of the corner of his eye.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Mason said. “Just thinking.”

Back at the bungalow, they didn’t turn on any lights. Mason headed to the kitchen for water while Wes stepped out onto the small deck. The ocean wasn’t visible, but you could hear it…steady, rhythmic, a kind of background hush. The hot tub was bubbling, steam curling in the cooler night air. Wes dipped a finger in.

“Still warm,” he called.

Mason stepped out a moment later, two glasses in hand. “We earned it.”

They stripped their clothes off and slid in, water lapping at their shoulders. It felt different than the first time. Less about the thrill of doing something bold, more about being in the moment. Wes floated toward Mason, who opened his arms without a word.

Their mouths met, slow and heavy. Mason shifted, pulling Wes onto his lap, hands steady at his waist. Mason’s cock began to harden the second Wes mounted him. Neither of them rushed it. The heat, the buzz of the evening, the way their bodies already knew each other—it was all there, just beneath the surface.

The continued like this. Wes in Mason’s lap, grinding on him as they both whimpered and moaned in delight. Mason grabbed Wes’ cock and gave it purposeful strokes as he pressed his own against his friend’s ass.

After many kisses and gropes, they eventually made their way inside again, wet footprints trailing behind them.

The door slid shut behind them with a soft click, and the hush of the beach night settled in around the house. The scent of ocean air still clung to their skin. Mason moved toward the couch, then paused, something in his body language had shifted. Wes noticed it immediately.

“What?” Wes asked.

Mason turned slowly. “I just…” He looked toward Wes with a quiet seriousness in his eyes. “There’s something I wanna try tonight.”

Wes stepped in closer, heart ticking faster. “Okay…”

“I want you to fuck me,” Mason said, the words low but direct. Then softer, “I mean, like…me on the bottom. I want to try it.”

Wes blinked, absorbing it. “You sure?”

Mason’s tongue flicked over his bottom lip. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it since you played with my ass earlier. That felt really good and…I want to feel more. I want to feel you. I want to know what that’s like.”

Wes stepped closer, cupped his jaw, and kissed him—not hungrily, but with a kind of reverence. “Whatever you want,” he whispered.

They moved toward the bed slowly, trading kisses and light touches. Mason’s hands were steady, but there was a tightness in his breath. Wes let his fingers trail across his back, up his spine, until Mason relaxed into the touch.

Wes guided him to the bed. Mason lay back, legs slightly apart, erection already firm. Wes kissed down his body…chest, stomach, hips…before letting his lips wrap around Mason’s throbbing cock, slow and deep. Mason groaned, one hand sliding into Wes’s hair.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Mason breathed.

Wes took his time. He wanted Mason soft, pliant, ready. He slicked his fingers and kissed his way lower, nudging Mason’s thighs apart and trailing slow kisses along the inner flesh. He spread his cheeks apart and circled Mason’s hole with his tongue before pressing in lightly.

“Woah, what are you…oh my god…ohhhhh” Mason groaned.

“Shhh…trust me” Wes whispered before burying his tongue back in Mason’s ass. Tongue-fucking Mason for the first time. Mason closed his legs around Wes’ head, pulling him in closer…further into him.

Eventually Wes added a lubed fingertip, gentle and teasing.

Mason’s breath caught. “Yeah… go ahead.”

Wes pressed in slowly, just the tip of his finger, watching Mason’s face. Mason’s mouth parted but he didn’t pull away. He inhaled deeply and let his body open.

Mason whispered between moans, “Keep going.”

Wes worked the single finger deeper, then added a second. Mason gasped at the stretch but didn’t stop him. His legs shifted wider, body adjusting to the pressure. Wes curled his fingers slightly, searching…and when he hit the right spot, Mason flinched, then moaned louder.

“There?” Wes teased.

“Yeah,” Mason groaned. “Right fucking there.” as he pressed down onto Wes’ hand.

When Wes finally lubed himself and lined up between Mason’s legs, he hovered, bracing himself on his arms.

“This is my first time topping, tell me if you want me to stop.”

Mason nodded. His thighs trembled slightly, but his gaze didn’t waver.

Wes pressed in slowly. The head of his cock breached Mason’s rim and Mason tensed, a sharp breath drawn in through his nose.

“You’re okay,” Wes whispered. “You’re doing good.”

Mason nodded again, squeezing Wes’s wrist. “Keep going.”

Wes slid in deeper, inch by inch. The stretch was intense. Wes could feel Mason’s body gripping him tight, adjusting, pulling him in. Mason’s eyes fluttered shut, his lip caught between his teeth. A soft, low sound escaped his throat, somewhere between a groan and a gasp.

“God, you feel amazing,” Wes murmured, forehead resting against Mason’s.

Mason arched slightly, letting his legs wrap around Wes’s waist. “You can move faster.”

Wes rocked his hips gently, pulling out just an inch before sliding back in. Mason’s hands gripped his back. He groaned as Wes thrust again, a little deeper this time.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Mason whispered. “It’s so different…but good.”

Wes kissed him deeply, their mouths moving in sync with their bodies. The rhythm built, slow at first, then stronger, deeper. Mason adjusted to each thrust, his moans growing louder, breath growing rougher. Every push of Wes’s cock brushed against that spot inside him that made his toes curl.

“God,” Mason breathed. “I didn’t know it’d feel like this.”

Wes’s body was flush against his now, his pace steady but full. He gripped Mason’s thigh, angling deeper, drawing out another sharp cry from Mason’s throat.

Mason’s cock, slick and leaking, pressed between their bellies. Wes reached between them, stroking him in rhythm with each thrust. Mason’s whole body arched…he was trembling now, on the edge.

“I’m gonna—fuck, Wes, I’m gonna—”

“Let it go,” Wes whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Mason came hard, his whole body shuddering, cum spraying between them. His muscles clenched tight around Wes, pulling him deeper, and Wes followed with a groan, burying himself as he came with a few final, deep thrusts.

They both were panting hard, recovering from this new territory they’d just entered.

After a while, Wes still buried inside Mason, they caught their breath and he withdrew his softening cock and collapsed beside Mason on the bed. They lay in the quiet, their skin sticky, hearts pounding. Wes brushed the hair from Mason’s forehead and kissed his cheek.

Mason smiled faintly, a little dazed. “So…that was new.”

Wes chuckled, still catching his breath. “Yeah. You were incredible.”

Mason turned, pressing closer, his voice soft and sincere. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

Wes wrapped an arm around him. “Me neither. I guess this means we’re vers now.” he said with a chuckle.

“I don’t know what that means, but if we get to do that again, then you’re right”

“I’ve got so much to teach you” Wes said planting a kiss on Mason’s lips.

They lay like that, bodies tangled, the ocean just barely audible through the open window, as the room cooled around them and everything else stilled.

More: Get more from JaxxStories on Patreon

Beautiful. Just beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing on this platform.

 

[JaxxStories]

Part 8 (Finale) :

“I don’t know what that means, but if we get to do that again, then you’re right”

“I’ve got so much to teach you” Wes said planting a kiss on Mason’s lips.

They lay like that, bodies tangled, the ocean just barely audible through the open window, as the room cooled around them and everything else stilled.

__________

The next morning, Wes stirred first, blinking at the ceiling. The sheets were warm. Mason was already awake, staring upward like he was trying to work something out in his head.

“I hate that it’s our last day,” Mason said, voice still rough from sleep.

Wes yawned, rubbing at his face. “Don’t say that yet.”

Mason turned his head, eyes a little unfocused. “You know the drive home’s gonna suck.”

“Yeah,” Wes said, stretching. “But we’ve still got the morning. Let’s make the most of it.”

He sat up and tossed the blanket off his legs. “Come on. Let’s hit the shower before we head out.”

⸻

The bathroom fogged up quick. They got in together and began washing themselves, but it didn’t take long for it to turn into more than just rinsing off. Mason washed his hair while Wes stood behind him, arms around his waist, water beating down on both of them.

Wes let his hand drift lower, between Mason’s legs, where he was already getting hard. Mason gave a soft grunt and turned around, water running down his chest. Their cocks bumped together, hard and already slick, and Mason reached down to stroke them both.

“Morning wood duo,” Mason muttered, smirking.

Wes laughed and leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Let’s take care of it.”

They pressed in closer, hands working together, breathing picking up. The friction of their dicks sliding against each other and their hands moving in sync did the job fast. Mason came first, jaw tight, hips jerking once as he sprayed all over Wes. Half a second later, Wes followed, moaning softly, forehead against Mason’s shoulder as they slowed to a stop.

After their orgasms faded, they resumed their shower like normal, washing their mixed cum down the drain before stepping out to dry off.

Once they got dressed, they packed the last of their stuff and loaded the car without much talking. There wasn’t tension exactly, but both of them were clearly thinking about what came next. Wes grabbed them a couple waters from the fridge and climbed into the passenger seat. Mason adjusted the rearview mirror, started the car, and backed out of the gravel driveway of the beachfront rental that brought them even closer together.

About twenty minutes into the drive, Wes finally spoke.

“So…what happens now?”

Mason kept his eyes on the road. “With us?”

“Yeah.”

Mason let out a long breath. “I don’t know. I mean, I want this. I want you. But it’s gonna be different once we’re back. School, friends, my parents. All of it.”

Wes nodded. “We don’t have to figure it all out now. But I don’t want to go back to just friends and pretending this didn’t happen.”

Mason reached over and rested his hand on Wes’s leg. “We won’t.”

Wes looked down at his phone just as Mason’s buzzed in the cupholder. It lit up with a text.

From Brooke.

Mason glanced down and muttered, “Shit.”

“What?”

Mason read the message carefully while still keeping one eye on the road.

“She saw a picture. She’s asking questions.”

Wes raised an eyebrow. “What picture?”

Mason picked up the phone, scrolled, then held it out. It was a shot of Wes asleep in bed, completely naked on his stomach, his perky ass on full display. His head was turned toward the camera, but he was completely out.

“I forgot our iClouds are still linked so this showed up on her phone,” Mason said. “I took that our first morning at the beach. You looked…I don’t know. I just liked that moment and wanted to remember it.”

Wes didn’t respond right away. He stared at the photo, then back at Mason.

Then another message came.

“She asked if that’s why I broke up with her,” Mason said. “If it’s because I’m gay now.”

Wes tilted his head. “What’d you say?”

Mason looked between Wes and the screen, then typed slowly.

Yes.

He hit send without hesitating.

Wes blinked. “You said yes??”

“Yeah,” Mason replied, locking the phone. “I meant it.”

Wes stared at him, then leaned forward a little. “Pull over at the next rest stop.”

Mason turned his head, confused. “What?”

Wes looked serious. “Just do it.”

Mason gave a small shake of his head but was already checking for signs. He spotted one a couple minutes later. “Rest area in one mile.”

He moved into the right lane quickly, checking his mirror, then took the exit.

They pulled into a mostly empty lot. Trees lined the edges, giving some privacy. Mason parked in the back near a line of vending machines and a row of parked semis. He killed the engine.

Wes didn’t wait, he climbed into the backseat and pushed some bags aside.

Mason hesitated for a second, then got out and slid into the back too, shutting the door behind him.

They were on each other right away. Wes tugged Mason’s shirt off, then leaned back and pulled his own off. Mason kissed him hard, crawling between his legs, his hands already working on Wes’s fly. Wes lifted his hips to help him get the shorts off.

“Here? Now?” Mason asked, voice questioning.

Wes nodded, already reaching for the small bottle of lube he’d tossed in his bag that morning. “Yeah. I need you.”

Mason slicked his fingers and eased one into Wes’s hole, slow and steady. Wes let his head fall back against the seat, legs spread wider, hands gripping Mason’s shoulders.

“Ready for more?” Mason asked.

Wes nodded, biting his lip. “Keep going.”

Two fingers now. Mason worked him open carefully, watching his face the whole time. When Wes moaned and started grinding down, Mason pulled his own shorts off and stroked himself once, hard and leaking.

“Ready?” he asked, voice a little shaky.

“Yeah,” Wes said. “Do it.”

Mason lined up and pushed in slowly. Wes groaned, eyes squeezing shut, one leg hooked around Mason’s waist. The stretch burned for a second, then settled into a deep, pleasurable ache.

Mason bottomed out with a soft curse. “Holy shit.”

Wes opened his eyes and met his gaze. “Fuck me, Mason.”

Mason did. He pulled back, then thrust again, setting a steady rhythm. The car rocked gently with each movement, soft gasps filling the air. Skin slapped against skin, and the windows fogged fast.

Wes reached down and started stroking himself, matching Mason’s rhythm. His moans got louder with each thrust, his face flushed, hair damp with sweat.

Mason leaned down and kissed him, sloppy and fast. “You feel incredible,” he muttered. “So tight.”

“Faster,” Wes gasped.

Mason gripped his thighs and gave it to him harder. Wes cried out, back arching off the seat as he came suddenly, coating his hand and stomach. The clench of his body sent Mason over the edge right after, hips jerking as he emptied inside him.

They collapsed together, breath ragged, both of them sticky and sweaty and tangled in the cramped space.

After a minute of catching their breath, they dressed again slowly, passing a pack of tissues back and forth to clean up their mess.

Mason glanced over while tugging his shirt on. “So, uh…what was that all about?”

Wes looked up. Paused for a second. Gulped the lump in his throat, then said softly, “I love you.”

Mason blinked.

“You told her the truth,” Wes said. “You could have easily lied and kept your reputation. But you didn’t hide it. You didn’t hide me. I wanted to show you what that meant to me.”

Mason swallowed, then nodded. “I love you too.”

They leaned in for another kiss, slower this time. Then Mason climbed back up front, and Wes followed, shifting around to buckle in. The car started back up and merged onto the highway again.

⸻

It was fully dark by the time they pulled into Mason’s parent’s driveway. He was staying there for the rest of the summer until school started back. The porch light was off, and the house looked quiet.

Mason turned off the ignition. “Wanna just stay here tonight? It’s late.”

“Yeah,” Wes said. “Thanks.”

They grabbed their bags and crept inside, careful not to wake anyone. Mason led him to his room, shutting the door behind them. He tossed his bag in the corner and flopped onto the bed. Wes followed, kicking off his shoes and lying down beside him.

Wes turned off the lamp, the room going dim except for the faint blue glow of a streetlight leaking in through the blinds. He shifted under the blanket, arms brushing Mason’s.

After a few minutes of easy kisses, and just as he started to settle, Mason’s voice cut softly through the quiet, “Wes?”

“Yea?”

“My turn again.”

Wes looked over. “Yeah?”

Mason nodded, already sliding a hand under his own shirt and lifting it over his head. “Yeah.”

Wes didn’t need convincing. He sat up, peeling off his shirt and tossing it aside, then stood to tug off his shorts and underwear. Mason did the same, eyes locked on him the whole time.

When Wes climbed back into bed, Mason was already on his back, legs bent slightly, hands resting at his sides like he was waiting for instructions.

Wes leaned over him, kissing him slow and deep, one hand running up the length of Mason’s leg before nudging it further open. Their cocks brushed, but neither of them rushed. Wes reached over to the drawer where he’d stashed the lube, slicking his fingers before easing one inside Mason, just like Mason had done to him hours earlier in the backseat.

Mason exhaled sharply, his hands fisting the sheets. “Fuck, yeah…that’s good.”

Wes added another finger, curling them as he worked him open. Mason’s thighs tensed as Wes rubbed against his prostate, his back arching slightly. “Jesus. You’re good at this.”

“I’ve been gay a lot longer than you,” Wes chuckled, kissing his neck as he scissored his fingers slowly.

Mason was already flushed, chest rising and falling faster. “I want you in me.”

Wes slicked himself up, then pressed the head of his cock against Mason’s entrance. He moved in slowly, letting Mason take him inch by inch. Mason’s hands gripped the back of Wes’s thighs, pulling him in faster.

Wes bottomed out with a soft grunt, both of them groaning as their hips met.

“God,” Mason whispered. “It feels even better the second time.”

Wes started to move. His hands slid under Mason’s knees, angling his hips just right to get deeper. Mason responded with a low moan, his eyes fluttering shut.

Wes leaned in, one hand braced beside Mason’s head, the other gripping his waist as he picked up the pace. The sound of their bodies connecting filled the room, mixed with Mason’s breathy swears and the creak of the mattress.

“Right there,” Mason gasped. “Don’t stop.”

Wes angled his hips, grinding deeper, his thrusts now steady and hard. Mason’s cock throbbed between them, leaking onto his stomach, but neither of them reached for it yet.

Wes grabbed Mason’s hips with both hands now, holding him in place as he fucked him harder, the rhythm messy and hot. Sweat slicked their skin, and Mason’s legs tightened around his back, pulling him in like he never wanted it to end.

When Wes finally reached down and stroked him, it only took a few pumps before Mason came hard, chest heaving, cum streaking from his stomach to his neck. His whole body clenched around Wes, drawing out a groan as Wes spilled inside him seconds later, burying himself deep with a final, shuddering thrust.

They fell into each other, breathless and spent, the sheets damp and twisted beneath them.

A few minutes later, after cleaning up and pulling the blanket back over themselves, Mason tucked his head against Wes’s chest.

They lay quietly for a while, the ceiling fan spinning above them.

“You know,” Wes said eventually, “we don’t have to dorm on campus next semester.”

Mason looked over. “You got something in mind?”

“We get an apartment,” Wes said. “Just us. Close to school. No RAs, no shared bathrooms.”

Mason grinned and reached for his hand. “Let’s do it.”

Wes smiled and rolled over into him.

“I’m so glad we took that roadtrip.”

“Me too.”

More Stories: Get more from JaxxStories on Patreon

 

[jack-slater7]

Part 8 (Finale) :

“I don’t know what that means, but if we get to do that again, then you’re right”

“I’ve got so much to teach you” Wes said planting a kiss on Mason’s lips.

They lay like that, bodies tangled, the ocean just barely audible through the open window, as the room cooled around them and everything else stilled.

__________

The next morning, Wes stirred first, blinking at the ceiling. The sheets were warm. Mason was already awake, staring upward like he was trying to work something out in his head.

“I hate that it’s our last day,” Mason said, voice still rough from sleep.

Wes yawned, rubbing at his face. “Don’t say that yet.”

Mason turned his head, eyes a little unfocused. “You know the drive home’s gonna suck.”

“Yeah,” Wes said, stretching. “But we’ve still got the morning. Let’s make the most of it.”

He sat up and tossed the blanket off his legs. “Come on. Let’s hit the shower before we head out.”

⸻

The bathroom fogged up quick. They got in together and began washing themselves, but it didn’t take long for it to turn into more than just rinsing off. Mason washed his hair while Wes stood behind him, arms around his waist, water beating down on both of them.

Wes let his hand drift lower, between Mason’s legs, where he was already getting hard. Mason gave a soft grunt and turned around, water running down his chest. Their cocks bumped together, hard and already slick, and Mason reached down to stroke them both.

“Morning wood duo,” Mason muttered, smirking.

Wes laughed and leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Let’s take care of it.”

They pressed in closer, hands working together, breathing picking up. The friction of their dicks sliding against each other and their hands moving in sync did the job fast. Mason came first, jaw tight, hips jerking once as he sprayed all over Wes. Half a second later, Wes followed, moaning softly, forehead against Mason’s shoulder as they slowed to a stop.

After their orgasms faded, they resumed their shower like normal, washing their mixed cum down the drain before stepping out to dry off.

Once they got dressed, they packed the last of their stuff and loaded the car without much talking. There wasn’t tension exactly, but both of them were clearly thinking about what came next. Wes grabbed them a couple waters from the fridge and climbed into the passenger seat. Mason adjusted the rearview mirror, started the car, and backed out of the gravel driveway of the beachfront rental that brought them even closer together.

About twenty minutes into the drive, Wes finally spoke.

“So…what happens now?”

Mason kept his eyes on the road. “With us?”

“Yeah.”

Mason let out a long breath. “I don’t know. I mean, I want this. I want you. But it’s gonna be different once we’re back. School, friends, my parents. All of it.”

Wes nodded. “We don’t have to figure it all out now. But I don’t want to go back to just friends and pretending this didn’t happen.”

Mason reached over and rested his hand on Wes’s leg. “We won’t.”

Wes looked down at his phone just as Mason’s buzzed in the cupholder. It lit up with a text.

From Brooke.

Mason glanced down and muttered, “Shit.”

“What?”

Mason read the message carefully while still keeping one eye on the road.

“She saw a picture. She’s asking questions.”

Wes raised an eyebrow. “What picture?”

Mason picked up the phone, scrolled, then held it out. It was a shot of Wes asleep in bed, completely naked on his stomach, his perky ass on full display. His head was turned toward the camera, but he was completely out.

“I forgot our iClouds are still linked so this showed up on her phone,” Mason said. “I took that our first morning at the beach. You looked…I don’t know. I just liked that moment and wanted to remember it.”

Wes didn’t respond right away. He stared at the photo, then back at Mason.

Then another message came.

“She asked if that’s why I broke up with her,” Mason said. “If it’s because I’m gay now.”

Wes tilted his head. “What’d you say?”

Mason looked between Wes and the screen, then typed slowly.

Yes.

He hit send without hesitating.

Wes blinked. “You said yes??”

“Yeah,” Mason replied, locking the phone. “I meant it.”

Wes stared at him, then leaned forward a little. “Pull over at the next rest stop.”

Mason turned his head, confused. “What?”

Wes looked serious. “Just do it.”

Mason gave a small shake of his head but was already checking for signs. He spotted one a couple minutes later. “Rest area in one mile.”

He moved into the right lane quickly, checking his mirror, then took the exit.

They pulled into a mostly empty lot. Trees lined the edges, giving some privacy. Mason parked in the back near a line of vending machines and a row of parked semis. He killed the engine.

Wes didn’t wait, he climbed into the backseat and pushed some bags aside.

Mason hesitated for a second, then got out and slid into the back too, shutting the door behind him.

They were on each other right away. Wes tugged Mason’s shirt off, then leaned back and pulled his own off. Mason kissed him hard, crawling between his legs, his hands already working on Wes’s fly. Wes lifted his hips to help him get the shorts off.

“Here? Now?” Mason asked, voice questioning.

Wes nodded, already reaching for the small bottle of lube he’d tossed in his bag that morning. “Yeah. I need you.”

Mason slicked his fingers and eased one into Wes’s hole, slow and steady. Wes let his head fall back against the seat, legs spread wider, hands gripping Mason’s shoulders.

“Ready for more?” Mason asked.

Wes nodded, biting his lip. “Keep going.”

Two fingers now. Mason worked him open carefully, watching his face the whole time. When Wes moaned and started grinding down, Mason pulled his own shorts off and stroked himself once, hard and leaking.

“Ready?” he asked, voice a little shaky.

“Yeah,” Wes said. “Do it.”

Mason lined up and pushed in slowly. Wes groaned, eyes squeezing shut, one leg hooked around Mason’s waist. The stretch burned for a second, then settled into a deep, pleasurable ache.

Mason bottomed out with a soft curse. “Holy shit.”

Wes opened his eyes and met his gaze. “Fuck me, Mason.”

Mason did. He pulled back, then thrust again, setting a steady rhythm. The car rocked gently with each movement, soft gasps filling the air. Skin slapped against skin, and the windows fogged fast.

Wes reached down and started stroking himself, matching Mason’s rhythm. His moans got louder with each thrust, his face flushed, hair damp with sweat.

Mason leaned down and kissed him, sloppy and fast. “You feel incredible,” he muttered. “So tight.”

“Faster,” Wes gasped.

Mason gripped his thighs and gave it to him harder. Wes cried out, back arching off the seat as he came suddenly, coating his hand and stomach. The clench of his body sent Mason over the edge right after, hips jerking as he emptied inside him.

They collapsed together, breath ragged, both of them sticky and sweaty and tangled in the cramped space.

After a minute of catching their breath, they dressed again slowly, passing a pack of tissues back and forth to clean up their mess.

Mason glanced over while tugging his shirt on. “So, uh…what was that all about?”

Wes looked up. Paused for a second. Gulped the lump in his throat, then said softly, “I love you.”

Mason blinked.

“You told her the truth,” Wes said. “You could have easily lied and kept your reputation. But you didn’t hide it. You didn’t hide me. I wanted to show you what that meant to me.”

Mason swallowed, then nodded. “I love you too.”

They leaned in for another kiss, slower this time. Then Mason climbed back up front, and Wes followed, shifting around to buckle in. The car started back up and merged onto the highway again.

⸻

It was fully dark by the time they pulled into Mason’s parent’s driveway. He was staying there for the rest of the summer until school started back. The porch light was off, and the house looked quiet.

Mason turned off the ignition. “Wanna just stay here tonight? It’s late.”

“Yeah,” Wes said. “Thanks.”

They grabbed their bags and crept inside, careful not to wake anyone. Mason led him to his room, shutting the door behind them. He tossed his bag in the corner and flopped onto the bed. Wes followed, kicking off his shoes and lying down beside him.

Wes turned off the lamp, the room going dim except for the faint blue glow of a streetlight leaking in through the blinds. He shifted under the blanket, arms brushing Mason’s.

After a few minutes of easy kisses, and just as he started to settle, Mason’s voice cut softly through the quiet, “Wes?”

“Yea?”

“My turn again.”

Wes looked over. “Yeah?”

Mason nodded, already sliding a hand under his own shirt and lifting it over his head. “Yeah.”

Wes didn’t need convincing. He sat up, peeling off his shirt and tossing it aside, then stood to tug off his shorts and underwear. Mason did the same, eyes locked on him the whole time.

When Wes climbed back into bed, Mason was already on his back, legs bent slightly, hands resting at his sides like he was waiting for instructions.

Wes leaned over him, kissing him slow and deep, one hand running up the length of Mason’s leg before nudging it further open. Their cocks brushed, but neither of them rushed. Wes reached over to the drawer where he’d stashed the lube, slicking his fingers before easing one inside Mason, just like Mason had done to him hours earlier in the backseat.

Mason exhaled sharply, his hands fisting the sheets. “Fuck, yeah…that’s good.”

Wes added another finger, curling them as he worked him open. Mason’s thighs tensed as Wes rubbed against his prostate, his back arching slightly. “Jesus. You’re good at this.”

“I’ve been gay a lot longer than you,” Wes chuckled, kissing his neck as he scissored his fingers slowly.

Mason was already flushed, chest rising and falling faster. “I want you in me.”

Wes slicked himself up, then pressed the head of his cock against Mason’s entrance. He moved in slowly, letting Mason take him inch by inch. Mason’s hands gripped the back of Wes’s thighs, pulling him in faster.

Wes bottomed out with a soft grunt, both of them groaning as their hips met.

“God,” Mason whispered. “It feels even better the second time.”

Wes started to move. His hands slid under Mason’s knees, angling his hips just right to get deeper. Mason responded with a low moan, his eyes fluttering shut.

Wes leaned in, one hand braced beside Mason’s head, the other gripping his waist as he picked up the pace. The sound of their bodies connecting filled the room, mixed with Mason’s breathy swears and the creak of the mattress.

“Right there,” Mason gasped. “Don’t stop.”

Wes angled his hips, grinding deeper, his thrusts now steady and hard. Mason’s cock throbbed between them, leaking onto his stomach, but neither of them reached for it yet.

Wes grabbed Mason’s hips with both hands now, holding him in place as he fucked him harder, the rhythm messy and hot. Sweat slicked their skin, and Mason’s legs tightened around his back, pulling him in like he never wanted it to end.

When Wes finally reached down and stroked him, it only took a few pumps before Mason came hard, chest heaving, cum streaking from his stomach to his neck. His whole body clenched around Wes, drawing out a groan as Wes spilled inside him seconds later, burying himself deep with a final, shuddering thrust.

They fell into each other, breathless and spent, the sheets damp and twisted beneath them.

A few minutes later, after cleaning up and pulling the blanket back over themselves, Mason tucked his head against Wes’s chest.

They lay quietly for a while, the ceiling fan spinning above them.

“You know,” Wes said eventually, “we don’t have to dorm on campus next semester.”

Mason looked over. “You got something in mind?”

“We get an apartment,” Wes said. “Just us. Close to school. No RAs, no shared bathrooms.”

Mason grinned and reached for his hand. “Let’s do it.”

Wes smiled and rolled over into him.

“I’m so glad we took that roadtrip.”

“Me too.”

More Stories: Get more from JaxxStories on Patreon

Hell yeah, dude. That's so hot. Thanks again for sharing.

 

[fmbttm]

Part 8 (Finale) :

“I don’t know what that means, but if we get to do that again, then you’re right”

“I’ve got so much to teach you” Wes said planting a kiss on Mason’s lips.

They lay like that, bodies tangled, the ocean just barely audible through the open window, as the room cooled around them and everything else stilled.

__________

The next morning, Wes stirred first, blinking at the ceiling. The sheets were warm. Mason was already awake, staring upward like he was trying to work something out in his head.

“I hate that it’s our last day,” Mason said, voice still rough from sleep.

Wes yawned, rubbing at his face. “Don’t say that yet.”

Mason turned his head, eyes a little unfocused. “You know the drive home’s gonna suck.”

“Yeah,” Wes said, stretching. “But we’ve still got the morning. Let’s make the most of it.”

He sat up and tossed the blanket off his legs. “Come on. Let’s hit the shower before we head out.”

⸻

The bathroom fogged up quick. They got in together and began washing themselves, but it didn’t take long for it to turn into more than just rinsing off. Mason washed his hair while Wes stood behind him, arms around his waist, water beating down on both of them.

Wes let his hand drift lower, between Mason’s legs, where he was already getting hard. Mason gave a soft grunt and turned around, water running down his chest. Their cocks bumped together, hard and already slick, and Mason reached down to stroke them both.

“Morning wood duo,” Mason muttered, smirking.

Wes laughed and leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Let’s take care of it.”

They pressed in closer, hands working together, breathing picking up. The friction of their dicks sliding against each other and their hands moving in sync did the job fast. Mason came first, jaw tight, hips jerking once as he sprayed all over Wes. Half a second later, Wes followed, moaning softly, forehead against Mason’s shoulder as they slowed to a stop.

After their orgasms faded, they resumed their shower like normal, washing their mixed cum down the drain before stepping out to dry off.

Once they got dressed, they packed the last of their stuff and loaded the car without much talking. There wasn’t tension exactly, but both of them were clearly thinking about what came next. Wes grabbed them a couple waters from the fridge and climbed into the passenger seat. Mason adjusted the rearview mirror, started the car, and backed out of the gravel driveway of the beachfront rental that brought them even closer together.

About twenty minutes into the drive, Wes finally spoke.

“So…what happens now?”

Mason kept his eyes on the road. “With us?”

“Yeah.”

Mason let out a long breath. “I don’t know. I mean, I want this. I want you. But it’s gonna be different once we’re back. School, friends, my parents. All of it.”

Wes nodded. “We don’t have to figure it all out now. But I don’t want to go back to just friends and pretending this didn’t happen.”

Mason reached over and rested his hand on Wes’s leg. “We won’t.”

Wes looked down at his phone just as Mason’s buzzed in the cupholder. It lit up with a text.

From Brooke.

Mason glanced down and muttered, “Shit.”

“What?”

Mason read the message carefully while still keeping one eye on the road.

“She saw a picture. She’s asking questions.”

Wes raised an eyebrow. “What picture?”

Mason picked up the phone, scrolled, then held it out. It was a shot of Wes asleep in bed, completely naked on his stomach, his perky ass on full display. His head was turned toward the camera, but he was completely out.

“I forgot our iClouds are still linked so this showed up on her phone,” Mason said. “I took that our first morning at the beach. You looked…I don’t know. I just liked that moment and wanted to remember it.”

Wes didn’t respond right away. He stared at the photo, then back at Mason.

Then another message came.

“She asked if that’s why I broke up with her,” Mason said. “If it’s because I’m gay now.”

Wes tilted his head. “What’d you say?”

Mason looked between Wes and the screen, then typed slowly.

Yes.

He hit send without hesitating.

Wes blinked. “You said yes??”

“Yeah,” Mason replied, locking the phone. “I meant it.”

Wes stared at him, then leaned forward a little. “Pull over at the next rest stop.”

Mason turned his head, confused. “What?”

Wes looked serious. “Just do it.”

Mason gave a small shake of his head but was already checking for signs. He spotted one a couple minutes later. “Rest area in one mile.”

He moved into the right lane quickly, checking his mirror, then took the exit.

They pulled into a mostly empty lot. Trees lined the edges, giving some privacy. Mason parked in the back near a line of vending machines and a row of parked semis. He killed the engine.

Wes didn’t wait, he climbed into the backseat and pushed some bags aside.

Mason hesitated for a second, then got out and slid into the back too, shutting the door behind him.

They were on each other right away. Wes tugged Mason’s shirt off, then leaned back and pulled his own off. Mason kissed him hard, crawling between his legs, his hands already working on Wes’s fly. Wes lifted his hips to help him get the shorts off.

“Here? Now?” Mason asked, voice questioning.

Wes nodded, already reaching for the small bottle of lube he’d tossed in his bag that morning. “Yeah. I need you.”

Mason slicked his fingers and eased one into Wes’s hole, slow and steady. Wes let his head fall back against the seat, legs spread wider, hands gripping Mason’s shoulders.

“Ready for more?” Mason asked.

Wes nodded, biting his lip. “Keep going.”

Two fingers now. Mason worked him open carefully, watching his face the whole time. When Wes moaned and started grinding down, Mason pulled his own shorts off and stroked himself once, hard and leaking.

“Ready?” he asked, voice a little shaky.

“Yeah,” Wes said. “Do it.”

Mason lined up and pushed in slowly. Wes groaned, eyes squeezing shut, one leg hooked around Mason’s waist. The stretch burned for a second, then settled into a deep, pleasurable ache.

Mason bottomed out with a soft curse. “Holy shit.”

Wes opened his eyes and met his gaze. “Fuck me, Mason.”

Mason did. He pulled back, then thrust again, setting a steady rhythm. The car rocked gently with each movement, soft gasps filling the air. Skin slapped against skin, and the windows fogged fast.

Wes reached down and started stroking himself, matching Mason’s rhythm. His moans got louder with each thrust, his face flushed, hair damp with sweat.

Mason leaned down and kissed him, sloppy and fast. “You feel incredible,” he muttered. “So tight.”

“Faster,” Wes gasped.

Mason gripped his thighs and gave it to him harder. Wes cried out, back arching off the seat as he came suddenly, coating his hand and stomach. The clench of his body sent Mason over the edge right after, hips jerking as he emptied inside him.

They collapsed together, breath ragged, both of them sticky and sweaty and tangled in the cramped space.

After a minute of catching their breath, they dressed again slowly, passing a pack of tissues back and forth to clean up their mess.

Mason glanced over while tugging his shirt on. “So, uh…what was that all about?”

Wes looked up. Paused for a second. Gulped the lump in his throat, then said softly, “I love you.”

Mason blinked.

“You told her the truth,” Wes said. “You could have easily lied and kept your reputation. But you didn’t hide it. You didn’t hide me. I wanted to show you what that meant to me.”

Mason swallowed, then nodded. “I love you too.”

They leaned in for another kiss, slower this time. Then Mason climbed back up front, and Wes followed, shifting around to buckle in. The car started back up and merged onto the highway again.

⸻

It was fully dark by the time they pulled into Mason’s parent’s driveway. He was staying there for the rest of the summer until school started back. The porch light was off, and the house looked quiet.

Mason turned off the ignition. “Wanna just stay here tonight? It’s late.”

“Yeah,” Wes said. “Thanks.”

They grabbed their bags and crept inside, careful not to wake anyone. Mason led him to his room, shutting the door behind them. He tossed his bag in the corner and flopped onto the bed. Wes followed, kicking off his shoes and lying down beside him.

Wes turned off the lamp, the room going dim except for the faint blue glow of a streetlight leaking in through the blinds. He shifted under the blanket, arms brushing Mason’s.

After a few minutes of easy kisses, and just as he started to settle, Mason’s voice cut softly through the quiet, “Wes?”

“Yea?”

“My turn again.”

Wes looked over. “Yeah?”

Mason nodded, already sliding a hand under his own shirt and lifting it over his head. “Yeah.”

Wes didn’t need convincing. He sat up, peeling off his shirt and tossing it aside, then stood to tug off his shorts and underwear. Mason did the same, eyes locked on him the whole time.

When Wes climbed back into bed, Mason was already on his back, legs bent slightly, hands resting at his sides like he was waiting for instructions.

Wes leaned over him, kissing him slow and deep, one hand running up the length of Mason’s leg before nudging it further open. Their cocks brushed, but neither of them rushed. Wes reached over to the drawer where he’d stashed the lube, slicking his fingers before easing one inside Mason, just like Mason had done to him hours earlier in the backseat.

Mason exhaled sharply, his hands fisting the sheets. “Fuck, yeah…that’s good.”

Wes added another finger, curling them as he worked him open. Mason’s thighs tensed as Wes rubbed against his prostate, his back arching slightly. “Jesus. You’re good at this.”

“I’ve been gay a lot longer than you,” Wes chuckled, kissing his neck as he scissored his fingers slowly.

Mason was already flushed, chest rising and falling faster. “I want you in me.”

Wes slicked himself up, then pressed the head of his cock against Mason’s entrance. He moved in slowly, letting Mason take him inch by inch. Mason’s hands gripped the back of Wes’s thighs, pulling him in faster.

Wes bottomed out with a soft grunt, both of them groaning as their hips met.

“God,” Mason whispered. “It feels even better the second time.”

Wes started to move. His hands slid under Mason’s knees, angling his hips just right to get deeper. Mason responded with a low moan, his eyes fluttering shut.

Wes leaned in, one hand braced beside Mason’s head, the other gripping his waist as he picked up the pace. The sound of their bodies connecting filled the room, mixed with Mason’s breathy swears and the creak of the mattress.

“Right there,” Mason gasped. “Don’t stop.”

Wes angled his hips, grinding deeper, his thrusts now steady and hard. Mason’s cock throbbed between them, leaking onto his stomach, but neither of them reached for it yet.

Wes grabbed Mason’s hips with both hands now, holding him in place as he fucked him harder, the rhythm messy and hot. Sweat slicked their skin, and Mason’s legs tightened around his back, pulling him in like he never wanted it to end.

When Wes finally reached down and stroked him, it only took a few pumps before Mason came hard, chest heaving, cum streaking from his stomach to his neck. His whole body clenched around Wes, drawing out a groan as Wes spilled inside him seconds later, burying himself deep with a final, shuddering thrust.

They fell into each other, breathless and spent, the sheets damp and twisted beneath them.

A few minutes later, after cleaning up and pulling the blanket back over themselves, Mason tucked his head against Wes’s chest.

They lay quietly for a while, the ceiling fan spinning above them.

“You know,” Wes said eventually, “we don’t have to dorm on campus next semester.”

Mason looked over. “You got something in mind?”

“We get an apartment,” Wes said. “Just us. Close to school. No RAs, no shared bathrooms.”

Mason grinned and reached for his hand. “Let’s do it.”

Wes smiled and rolled over into him.

“I’m so glad we took that roadtrip.”

“Me too.”

More Stories: Get more from JaxxStories on Patreon

Really great story! Maybe we’ll get a sequel of Mason and Wes in their new apartment at school??

 

[Westwood]

Beautiful story of love and friendship. We need a sequel! Pretty please.

Thank you!

 

[Hungreceiver]

I guess that is the end of this story....was very good.