| Author: | Francis Ashe | ISBN: | 9781466044098 |
| Publisher: | Francis Ashe | Publication: | February 2, 2012 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords | Language: | English |
| Author: | Francis Ashe |
| ISBN: | 9781466044098 |
| Publisher: | Francis Ashe |
| Publication: | February 2, 2012 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords |
| Language: | English |
Jackson’s reply was to turn to Davidson, put one hand on the back of his head and press his hot, full lips hard onto John’s mouth. In momentary surprise, John opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by Jackson’s tongue intruding between his teeth and wrestling with his own. The taste of beer, the cigarette he smoked an hour ago, and the scent of his bunkmate’s sweat made Davidson turn into an animal. He gripped Jackson to him, kissing him deep and forcing his tongue into submission. When Jackson’s large hand went to John’s crotch, he found him already standing at attention, and massaged his thickness through his trousers.
Pushing back momentarily, John interjected, “do you want to go to a hotel? I can’t keep my hands off you anymore, and you aren’t helping a thing. Let’s go, now.” He meant what he said, as Jackson massaged his mast, a spot darkened his whites. He reached under the table to get revenge on his friend, but when he fumbled onto the huge cock growing in Jackson’s pants, he almost lost himself. He took a deep breath to regain composure and grabbed the taller sailor’s hand.
“No. No hotel.” Jackson insisted, “I want to pound you on the beach, in the sand, under the moon. And I don’t want it to be just us. We can do that anytime back on the ship. We only have two days off that floating city, let’s make it count!”
Jackson’s reply was to turn to Davidson, put one hand on the back of his head and press his hot, full lips hard onto John’s mouth. In momentary surprise, John opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by Jackson’s tongue intruding between his teeth and wrestling with his own. The taste of beer, the cigarette he smoked an hour ago, and the scent of his bunkmate’s sweat made Davidson turn into an animal. He gripped Jackson to him, kissing him deep and forcing his tongue into submission. When Jackson’s large hand went to John’s crotch, he found him already standing at attention, and massaged his thickness through his trousers.
Pushing back momentarily, John interjected, “do you want to go to a hotel? I can’t keep my hands off you anymore, and you aren’t helping a thing. Let’s go, now.” He meant what he said, as Jackson massaged his mast, a spot darkened his whites. He reached under the table to get revenge on his friend, but when he fumbled onto the huge cock growing in Jackson’s pants, he almost lost himself. He took a deep breath to regain composure and grabbed the taller sailor’s hand.
“No. No hotel.” Jackson insisted, “I want to pound you on the beach, in the sand, under the moon. And I don’t want it to be just us. We can do that anytime back on the ship. We only have two days off that floating city, let’s make it count!”
