Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Grinning, Jule strode over to him and grabbed his sac through the shorts. “No underwear,” he rasped.
Tor calmly set the glass down, took hold of the hand on his groin and used it to pull Jule against his chest, and then he kissed him. Like always, the passion burned hot and bright between them. Their hands roamed over backs and squeezed asses as they shared wet open-mouthed kisses. He cupped Tor’s groin again, moaning at the hardness now filling his palm. Tor reached for his jeans, flicked open his button, and lowered his zipper. Knowing exactly what he wanted, Jule turned around, planted both hands on the counter, and bent over. Behind him, Tor groaned. He pressed a soft kiss to Jule’s nape, separated from him for a few moments, and then he pulled Jule’s jeans and briefs to just under the shelf of his ass and pushed his slick cock into him.
“Fuck,” Jule grunted in pleasure.
Tor threaded the fingers of one hand with Jule’s and gripped his hip with the other, holding him steady while he pumped into his body. “Jule,” he rasped into his ear, his breath hot and damp.
One of the many things he relished about sex with Tor was his ability to always, always make Jule feel cherished. His preferred position was the one they were in—his back to Tor’s front—but Tor never ended the contact below the waist. No matter their location or if they were standing or lying down, Tor wrapped him in his arms, held his hand, and kissed or licked or bit his neck or shoulder or ear. Being enveloped by Tor, covered by his body and his scent, was equal parts thrilling and comforting.
Jule turned his head and their mouths connected, lips and tongues and teeth, gasps and moans and grunts. “Jesus, fuck, I’m going to come already.” Jule faced the counter again and dropped his forehead onto it, no longer able to hold himself up.
Tor draped his chest against Jule’s back and squeezed his hand tightly as he increased the pace of his thrusts.
It wasn’t long before Jule was screaming himself hoarse and shooting all over the front of the kitchen cabinet.
“God damn it, Jule.” Tor’s voice was raw. “Fuck.” He pushed in as deep as possible and held Jule to him as he trembled and came inside him. Neither of them moved for a long time and Jule enjoyed Tor’s weight on top of him, Tor’s hand holding his, and Tor’s breath and lips on his neck. “When does that boring part you keep threatening happen?”
Jule snorted. “When we’re eighty.”
“Stay there.” Tor pulled back. “I’ll clean you up.”
“Since when do I mind a little splooge on my ass?”
Tor wet a paper towel under the sink and then squeezed it. “I meant the cooking oil.” He gently wiped the towel over Jule’s thighs and up his crack.
“You coated your cock in oil?”
“Mmm hmm.” Tor raised Jule’s briefs and jeans over the swell of his ass and then tucked him in.
“Which one?”
“What do you mean which one?” He raised his zipper.
“Which oil? Because my mom got me a housewarming basket when I moved in here and I’m pretty sure it had garlic olive oil. I’m going to be pissed later if you have a garlic-flavored dick.”
Tor laughed. “It was just regular oil, and I need to hop in the shower anyway.” He patted Jule’s ass and squatted down. “My dick will be back to its original flavor by the time you put your mouth on it.” He wiped off the cabinet and then stood and kissed Jule’s temple. “Figure out what you want for dinner while I clean up.”
Jule stood and watched Tor’s ass shift in those clingy shorts as he walked out of the kitchen. He was considering following him into the shower when he heard the doorbell ring.
“Did you order food?” Tor called out. “I’ll get it.”
“No. I…” He remembered the reason he had come into the kitchen in the first place. “Tor, wait.” He heard the door open. “Shit.” After taking a quick moment to adjust his clothes, Jule hurried out of the kitchen and over to the entryway.
Lydia was standing in the doorway, bags in her hands, mouth gaping, wide eyes locked on a shirtless, sweaty Tor Dunworthy.
“Julie, your girlfriend is here.” He looked over his shoulder and grinned at him.
“For fuck’s sake, Tori, go get dressed.”
“Why? I’m comfortable this way.”
Lydia continued staring.
“I swear to God, Tor.”
With a laugh, Tor sauntered away. “Be back in a few.”
They both watched him leave, and when he was out of sight, Jule turned to Lydia, who hadn’t moved from the doorway.
“He is so hot.”
Having never heard her sound or look like that, he barked out a laugh. “Yeah, he really is.”
An hour later, Lydia was sitting beside Jule on the couch, Tor was sitting on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, which was covered in empty takeout containers, and the three of them were laughing together like they’d been friends for years. Jule had known Lydia for a long time and they got along well, but it had never been like that.