Marcus first saw the boy early on Thursday morning, before anyone else was out on the resort's beach. The boy's t-shirt was very tight, hugging the curves of his lean but well-defined chest and biceps. He was wearing baggy shorts, but below them Marcus could see his well-muscled calves.
Marcus was spying on the boy from the beachfront patio of his ground-floor apartment. He'd come to the Caribbean to finish his book, renting a unit at the Sandy Bottom resort for two months to be alone and concentrate—although he had been a little disappointed that the name didn't signify anything gay; as far as he could tell, the locals who ran the place hadn't intended any double entendre, and never acknowledged one, either.
Regardless of the name, the resort was perfect for Marcus's needs. With three squat condominiums surrounding a private beach, the secluded property featured a good restaurant and also a bar on-site, a surprisingly well-equipped and frequently empty gym, and a small, mostly regular, mostly older clientele of apartment owners and a few renters who kept to themselves.
And no young gay men to distract Marcus, which he kept reminding himself was a good thing.
And then came that Thursday morning three weeks in, when he first saw the boy. Enjoying his morning coffee and the internet before he started work, Marcus was shaded by the foliage and half-walls that cordoned his little patio off from the beach, and clearly the boy didn't know the older man was nearby and watching, only twenty feet away. The beach was shallow—the shoreline started three dozen feet down from the beachfront apartments—and the boy had stopped beside an umbrella-shaded lounge chair just in front of Marcus's unit. This gave Marcus a perfect view as the boy pulled up his t-shirt, revealing a thin, lean, hairless, tightly defined torso, complete with sharply defined abs. The boy had a swimmer's or a runner's build, but with the filled-out muscles of a young man who supplemented his athleticism with regular gym workouts.
Marcus shifted in his bathrobe; he was naked underneath it, and while the robe was just big enough to keep him decent, he had to make sure his hardening dick didn't poke out the front. That became more challenging as the boy snapped open his shorts and dropped them, unveiling a dark blue, square-cut bathing suit that hugged his narrow hips and round, perky ass. The suit was athletic, like something a swimmer would wear for casual exercise. It wasn't slutty, but it did reveal the boy's decent package, and it left little to the imagination in the back, fully outlining his bubble butt, which curved out from his lower back so suddenly that Marcus wondered if it was possible to balance a pencil on top of the boy's ass. And the suit showed off the boy's long, well-defined, lean thighs and the narrow gap between them, running right up to his taint. To Marcus, the empty space there looked like a slot just waiting to be filled.
The boy wandered down to the water, and Marcus got up and walked to where his patio opened onto the beach, keeping the younger man in view. As the boy wandered into the shallow waves, Marcus thought to himself, No. I will not pursue this. I'm here because I don't want to be distracted.
Marcus was on a mission to write his book; a history of homosexuality in European society, it was due to the publisher in two months. He'd spent the last two years on all the research, but only in the past three weeks had he actually started the prose. He'd made good progress but still had a ways to go. He'd exiled himself to this small Caribbean island where he knew no one so he could work steadily. He had fond memories of the many handsome university professors and eager students who'd helped him on his research trips across Europe in every way they could. Once Marcus saw a fit young ass, he couldn't think of much else until he'd filled it. But now the time had come to focus on writing.
Marcus figured if he was sentencing himself to two months of celibacy, the Caribbean would at least be a beautiful place to suffer through it—and the resort's populace of straight, elderly tourists would keep temptation away. But now his horniness suddenly had a target. Worse: The boy on the beach was exactly Marcus's type. Smooth skin, a build smaller than Marcus's but still nicely developed, very lean and defined. And of course there was the boy's ass, which would garner Marcus's attention and admiration at any time, but especially now that he hadn't buried his cock anywhere interesting in almost a month.
Marcus had recognized patterns in the resort's visitors. This boy is coming in on a Thursday, he thought. That means either he's probably either here just for the day or for a long weekend, to be gone by Sunday.
Still feeling indecisive, he stepped fully out onto the beach, just as the boy turned and locked his gaze on Marcus. The boy looked away, but as he walked back up to his lounge chair, he couldn't keep from glancing back at Marcus, who studied at the boy in return.
Marcus knew how he looked in his bathrobe; it didn't close fully around his chest, displaying the long, deep lines of his heavy pecs. Its short sleeves revealed his muscular arms, and the robe ended mid-thigh, showing off his thick, heavy legs. His tanned skin was dark against the bright white of the robe, and Marcus knew the boy was wondering what Marcus was wearing underneath it. Nothing, Marcus wanted to tell him.
The boy was now only a dozen feet away, openly staring now.
Marcus felt his dick hardening, and his hand fell to where it pushed against the fabric of his bathrobe. The boy's eyes snapped to the bulge and widened at the sight.
"Willy!" a shrill voice cried across the beach.
Marcus stepped back onto his patio, out of view from anyone except the boy, who grimaced as a middle-aged straight couple came up to his lounge chair. "You didn't bring sunscreen down with you!" the woman said.
"Mom," the boy muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Just put some on already," the man in the couple said. "You're mother's right, you need to wear sunscreen, Willy."
His name is Willy, Marcus thought. And he's here with his parents. He's probably just a kid—and too young for me. Marcus had bedded guys as young as 18, but in his experience they often were still learning the ins and outs of gay sex, and also they frequently became overly enamored of him and needed careful handling. I don't have time for that kind of mess right now, Marcus thought. And this boy might even still be in the closet—or a virgin. Both scenarios would take way too much time and focus from Marcus's writing.
As Willy's parents settled on nearby lounge chairs with their bulky e-readers, the boy looked up to where Marcus stood on his patio. Willy's lips parted, and Marcus ignored how that made him feel. He turned and walked into his apartment, shutting it up behind him. Its whole front was glass, so he closed up his place's long vertical window blinds too, feeling Willy's eyes on him right up until he cut the boy's view off.
Marcus spent the rest of the day inside working. Occasionally he remembered the sight of Willy in that swimsuit, but he used it as a reward; if he wrote solidly up to the evening, he'd let himself get another look at the boy—the off-limits boy, he reminded himself.
By late afternoon, he'd made good progress, but his interest was flagging. He started imagining stripping off Willy's suit and bending him over various pieces of furniture in the apartment. I need to jerk off, he thought. But let me see if I can get another look at Willy first. He changed into a beach-appropriate swimsuit—his standard, a tight set of side-split shorts that doubled as workout wear—and decided to go shirtless to show off a little.
He strode confidently out onto the patio, only to discover Willy and his parents were gone.
The beach always emptied as evening approached, and the Willy family had apparently departed early. Marcus wandered up to the resort bar, perched on an elevated terrace that gave him a perfect vantage point over the property's beach, café, and restaurant. He scanned for Willy but came up empty. So he must have just been here for the day.
He knew he should feel relieved. He'd already decided Willy was off-limits. He repeated that to himself as he went back to his apartment for a frustrating night of struggling to work on his book, intermittent snacking, and lazy browsing of online porn.
Determined to have a productive Friday, Marcus woke up early and headed to the resort gym. He was wistfully thinking of Willy when suddenly he saw the boy right in front of him at the gym, benching an impressive pair of dumbbells. Willy didn't notice he was no longer alone—he was wearing headphones and facing the ceiling as he did a set—so Marcus took his time to study the boy.
Willy was wearing baggy athletic shorts and a very loose-fitting tank top that hung open on the sides, revealing a long stretch of his lean torso. As Marcus watched, the tank's fabric slid across Willy's chest, and a small, hard, pink nipple poked into view, nicely capping the peak of one of the boy's tight, firm pectorals. Marcus knew how it would feel to grab that strong, lean young muscle; he could practically sense Willy's hard nipple pressing into his palm as he cupped the boy's chest.
Willy's tank read "BOSTON COLLEGE."
OK, Marcus thought. At least I'm not ogling a high schooler.
As Willy finished his set, Marcus looked away before their eyes met, put in his headphones, and went into automatic exercise mode. The gym, well-stocked for a resort, had enough weights, benches, and machines that he was able to keep his distance from Willy.
Marcus disappeared into a zone of focus when he worked out; he enjoyed it, but he didn't dawdle. Still, by his workout's halfway mark he couldn't help but glance over at Willy, whose tank top continued to hang open beguilingly, showing off and then hiding the full length of his tightly muscled upper body. The boy's shorts were baggy but still hugged the healthy swell of his bubble butt. Even more enticingly, when Willy did sit-ups, the shorts slid down to reveal the waistband of his jockstrap and the smooth line of skin just below it.
Willy was also clearly studying Marcus, who was wearing his standard tank top, its straps straining across his muscular chest, and his swimsuit, which resembled a pair of tight, old-fashioned running shorts, slit up the sides and spread open along his thick, meaty thighs. Marcus knew he looked like a 70s porn star in the outfit—an especially muscular one. As the shorts were actually for swimming, he didn't wear anything beneath them, and to someone looking closely—the way Willy was—the outline of Marcus's generous cock and balls were easy to discern, especially as his dick thickened each time he caught another flash of Willy's chest.
It was becoming hot and sweaty and difficult to concentrate in the gym. Marcus regularly had to look away to avoid locking eyes with Willy.
As Marcus finished with the weights, Willy grabbed a copy of the New Yorker and started pedaling on the stationary bike, pretending to read it instead of staring at Marcus.
Normally Marcus would have gone for a swim after finishing with weights—he wasn't much for cardio—but he had an idea. The gym's sole treadmill was directly in front of Willy's bike. Knowing he was giving the boy an eyeful, he got up on the running machine and started jogging. He was laying out his ass and muscular back for Willy's view, and a glance in the mirror confirmed that the boy wasn't looking at his magazine at all. Instead his eyes hungrily drank up Marcus's backside.
After a few minutes, Marcus swept his tank off, tossed it on the floor, and watched in satisfaction as Willy's eyes widened, transfixed by Marcus's near nudity. Marcus put in a short but fast run, his tight shorts getting even clingier as they dampened.
He leapt off the treadmill and surreptitiously glanced at Willy as he mopped up his sweat with a gym towels. The boy was staring at Marcus's now wet crotch, where his thick dick was clearly delineated.
Feeling cocky in every sense of the word, Marcus turned and headed out to the beach for a post-workout swim, Willy's horny, pleading, helpless eyes bright in his memory.
The swim was refreshing, if not exactly relaxing, and Marcus crouched close to shore after finishing. Sure enough, there was Willy on a lounge chair right in front of Marcus's patio. When Marcus met his gaze, Willy quickly looked down at his book. Nearby, the boy's parents were napping on their chairs.
Marcus strode up and out of the water, basking in the hot sun as it fell across his dripping body. He felt Willy's eyes on him as he scooped up his tank and music player from the beach chair where he'd left them. He walked right up to Willy but pretended not to notice him, knowing he was driving the boy crazy. At the last second, he glanced down to see Willy almost comically hiding behind his book.
The Lost Language of Cranes, Marcus noticed. Only a boy who's out would read that in front of his parents.
Marcus strode onto his patio and into his apartment. As he pulled the glass doors closed, he saw Willy had turned around to watch. Their eyes met, but after a moment the boy looked away. No one else on the beach was positioned to see into Marcus's apartment, and only Willy was close enough to make out its dark interior anyway. A boy like that couldn't be out of the closet and still a virgin, Marcus thought, and it made him feel impulsive.
He leaned down and stripped off his shorts, unleashing his dangling cock, which was lengthening with anticipation of what was about to happen. He straightened up just as Willy looked back at him. The boy's mouth fell open at the sight of Marcus's nudity.
Marcus grinned, then pulled shut his vertical blinds, cutting off the boy's view.
After showering, Marcus started writing, but he was regularly distracted by thoughts of Willy in his loose tank, and even more so of the boy in his tight swimsuit from the day before. Who's gotten to enjoy that ass already? he wondered. What does Willy sound like when he's getting fucked? He imagined the feel of the boy's bubble butt wrapped around his cock, Willy's round, muscular cheeks slapping up against Marcus's hips, the boy's insides straining under the pressure from Marcus's meaty dick. I bet he's never taken one as big as mine.
Marcus made the same deal with himself as he had the day before: Work hard until the evening, then get rewarded with another view of Willy. Again, he lasted until the late afternoon. He had to suppress a hard-on while he dressed for the beach, then hurried out, only to find Willy and his family gone again.
I'm not going to fuck him anyway, Marcus reminded himself, but that didn't slow his urgent scanning of the beach, nor his hurrying to the resort bar, where he could quickly see Willy was nowhere in view on the property. He bought a drink, generously overtipping because he knew the staff kept tabs on the residents. He didn't want them whispering about him.
I have to get with that boy, Marcus realized. He's old enough, he's not in the closet, and I'd bet he's at least reasonably experienced. I'm more distracted from work now than I would be if I simply took the time to properly fuck him. But it's Friday now, and he's almost certainly leaving with his family on Sunday...
Marcus quickly downed his drink, then returned to his apartment to grab his laptop. He had dinner at the bar, trying to get at least some writing done while he maintained a lookout for Willy. But the boy and his family had clearly left the resort for dinner, and Marcus didn't see them again all night.
The next morning Willy wasn't in the gym. It gave Marcus space to have a thorough workout, but he was disappointed not to see the boy anywhere on the beach afterward. After a frustrating swim, Marcus dried off on a lounge chair and kept an eye out for Willy, but there was no sign of the boy or his family. He couldn't face shutting himself up in his apartment, so he grabbed his work and set up near the bar again. He tried to write while also keeping a watch on for Willy, but the boy continued to be a no-show.
Marcus had a horrible thought: Do I even know for sure that he's staying at the resort? He and his parents could have been coming to this beach from somewhere else. This is one of the best spots on this side of the island, and all beaches here are public. The resort discourage visitors, but if it's a quiet family like Willy's...
"Over here, by the sand," Marcus heard Willy say. Jerking to attention, he looked down from the bar's terrace, which overlooked the resort restaurant, and saw the boy sitting down below with his family at a table right next to the beach. He was wearing a tight t-shirt and baggy shorts. Marcus had a clear view of him, but was mostly out of sight himself as he watched Willy scanning the ocean and beach. He's looking for me, he realized.
"I'm sorry you didn't care for the wildlife sanctuary," Willy's mother said.
"It was fine," Willy said.
"You couldn't wait to get back here," she said.
"Leave the boy alone, Delia," Willy's father said. "He just wants to relax. You've had us traipsing all over the island the last two nights."
"Excuse me," she said. "I thought it would be nice to check out the local restaurants."
"Don't see much difference between them and the one here," her husband replied.
"I'm going to the bathroom," Willy muttered.
The restrooms were behind the resort's main building, in a back passage facing away from the beach. Perfect, Marcus thought.
He swiftly walked down to them in time to see Willy disappearing into one of the single-use toilets. Marcus leaned against the wall just outside of it. He was wearing a tight tank, which he knew showed off his muscular upper body, especially his thick, heavy chest with its curls of black hair. His shorts displayed his narrow waist, muscular ass, and thickly muscled legs, and were tight enough in the crotch to indicate its heft. It might not be as good as his gym outfit, but he figured it would get the job done with the boy.
As he waited, he felt a shakiness in his stomach and a quickness in his breathing. You're out of practice, he thought, getting all worked up over a young kid like this. Still, it was understandable; Marcus hadn't been celibate for this many weeks in... he wasn't sure how long. But is that it? he wondered. After all, if I spook the boy—if he tells his parents, and they freak out, that could make things bad for me here. No matter how well I tip the staff, if I'm accused of harassing other guests, especially a boy so much younger than I am...
The bathroom door opened and Willy came out, then froze as he stared Marcus up and down.
It was all Marcus needed to jump into action. He stepped forward, looming over Willy, and briefly considered pushing him back into the bathroom and working him over right then and there. Don't be stupid, he thought. You have much more elaborate plans for him.
Instead, he growled, "Come to my place at midnight tonight. Wear your blue swimsuit and that tank top from the gym the other day. And be ready to be fucked."
Marcus turned and walked away, knowing from Willy's expression that he'd sufficiently spiked the boy's pulse—and feeling surprised at how fast he'd sent his own heart racing.
It was a struggle to get any work done before midnight. Frustrated, Marcus at least knew he was doing the right thing. Clearly unloading in Willy was the only way to get his mind back on his work.
He stripped down to black briefs in prep for Willy's arrival, knowing being nearly naked would do away with unnecessary small talk. In hopes the boy would be early, he got ready fifteen minutes ahead of time, only to lounge around in his living room impatiently, wavering between anticipation at seeing that beautiful ass up close and worry over Willy being a no-show.
As the clock hit midnight, then moved a minute past, Marcus's anxiety grew. What if I scared him? He could have told his parents. If this turns into a giant mess and I have to change resorts, I'll have wasted a ton of time I should be spending on the book. But Marcus knew what he'd really regret wasting was his chance at fucking Willy senseless.
He glanced back at the clock just as it switched to 12:02 AM. Was I too aggressive?
He heard a knock on the glass doors out to the patio. The vertical blinds were closed, so he couldn't see who it was—but he didn't need to.
"It's open!" Marcus called out as he stood up from the couch.
After a moment, Willy slid the glass doors open and uncertainly stepped past the vertical blinds into the living room. His eyes widened at the sight of Marcus in just a pair of briefs, and he stood there silently, as if in shock. Marcus in turn looked Willy up and down, pleased to see the boy had followed instructions: He was wearing the loose tank from the gym, the large cuts in its sides revealing long stretches of his torso. Below that, his small blue square cut hugged his hips and package.
"Close the doors," Marcus said.
Willy jumped, then quickly obeyed.
Marcus stepped toward him, and Willy flinched. "I-I don't even know your name," he said, his voice hoarse.
"I know yours," Marcus said, moving right up to him. "It's Willy." He ran a finger up the boy's torso where it lay bared in his tank. Willy shivered, his lips parting and his eyes dropping to Marcus's chest, then darting off to the side.
This is going to go perfectly, Marcus thought. I can read him like a book. "I'm Marcus," he said.
Willy nodded uncertainly. "Uh, nice to meet—"
"How many men have fucked you?" Marcus asked.
"Uh," Willy stammered. "Uh, I had one boyfriend—I've had one boyfriend, and he topped me. That's it."
Marcus slipped his whole hand inside Willy's tank and ran it up and down the boy's body, listening as Willy's breathing sped up. "How many times did he fuck you?"
It took Willy a moment to answer, as if he couldn't remember how to speak. "I-I don't know... a bunch. We went out for six months. He, uh, he liked doing it."
"I bet he did. Was he good at it?"
Willy shrugged. "I guess."
Marcus tipped Willy's chin up so that the boy had no choice but to meet his gaze. "That isn't what you'll say about me. You'll say I was a fucking superhero when it came to topping your ass."
Willy's mouth fell open, and Marcus leaned down and kissed him, hard, pushing his tongue past Willy's lips. He grabbed Willy around the hips, pulled the boy against him, and then moved his hands around to Willy's ass, fondling it through the boy's tight swimsuit. Each cheek a handful, his bubble butt was the perfect mix of soft and firm. The feel of it urged Marcus to lose control, but he knew how to run a session like this. He'd worked over boys like Willy dozens of times, and now he could do it by instinct, leading them to maximum pleasure.
That's why he broke off the kiss, then stared down at Willy, who looked up at him with wide eyes. "Are you ready?" Marcus asked.
"I-I'm nervous," Willy said, shaking slightly in Marcus's arms.
"Do you want it?"
"Yes," Willy said in a wavering voice. Then, with certainty, "Yes."
"What do you want?" Marcus asked. "Tell me."
Willy looked down, then back up into Marcus's eyes, his expression determined. "I want you to fuck me."
Marcus smirked. "Good boy. You're clean?"
Willy nodded. "I haven't eaten since you—since you told me to come here."
"Are you hungry?"
Willy shook his head. "I'm too nervous. But—but I really want this to happen."
"How long do you want it to go?"
"Very good. I'm going to come in you."
Willy drew back, but Marcus held the boy captive in his arms. "I-I need to be safe," Willy protested.
"I'll wear a condom, don't worry. But I'll still come when I'm inside you." Marcus kissed Willy again, then asked, "How often can you come?"
"I can come at least twice tonight," Willy said. "But I might, uh, I might come too soon the first time."
"I'll make sure you don't," Marcus said, and he kissed Willy again, harder this time. The boy relaxed into him, arching his body and pushed his ass back against Marcus's hands.
Again, Marcus broke off the kiss. He stepped away from Willy and growled, "Go into the bedroom."
Willy hesitated, looking bewildered. Marcus slapped his butt. "Go."
Willy hurried off, and Marcus watched his blue swimsuited ass sway with each step.
"To the left," Marcus said as Willy reached the hallway.
The boy nodded nervously and went ahead, Marcus just after him.
The bedroom was dominated by a queen size bed. It was lit by a single bedside lamp, bright enough to see by, but low enough to preserve the mood. The room was chilly; Marcus had cranked up the air conditioner because he knew how much warmer it would get as they went at it.
Shivering, Willy turned to Marcus uncertainly, and Marcus couldn't wait any longer. He crouched down and yanked the boy's swimsuit off, revealing his nice, long, thin, pale cock. Willy gasped.
"Turn around," Marcus said, and Willy quickly spun to face away. Suddenly the generous globes of his ass were in Marcus's face. Marcus grabbed each, kneading them, satisfied by their firmness. He felt the nearly uncontrollable urge to bury his face between them, to push Willy down onto the bed and open the boy's ass with his mouth. But he knew he should hold off a little whilte longer.
Instead he stood up and lifted Willy's tank up to his shoulders—and then he stopped, leaving the boy's head covered by the tank and the rest of him exposed. Willy paused, confused but ceding control, and Marcus looked down at him.
The boy's body was birdlike, lean and arched, but packed with tight, well-formed muscles all pointing at the wonderful curves of his generous, smooth-skinned bottom.
He ran a hand down Willy's torso, feeling the boy shudder as Marcus cupped Willy's ass, then roamed his fingers around to the boy's front, where he ran them up and down the length of Willy's hardening cock. Marcus licked his middle finger and slid it between Willy's ass cheeks, heading straight to the boy's hole. He began rhythmically tapping it, and Willy shuddered. A low moan emerged from where his tank was tangled around his face. His hips began to gyrate, the two halves of his ass squeezing in on Marcus's hand, trying to pull it more fully against Willy's opening.
Marcus kept tapping that hole for a minute, knowing he was driving the boy crazy, and then he fully yanked off Willy's tank and removed his hand, leaving the boy standing totally naked.
"Take off my briefs," Marcus ordered.
Willy looked dazed, but after a moment he obediently dropped to his knees.
Marcus watched the boy's eyes widen at the sight of the massive bulge in Marcus's black underwear. He was confident in many things, and one of them was the size of his dick. He'd hit the genetic lottery in that area. Many boys had quailed at accommodating it—but almost all of them did in the end, and were very glad they had.
"Take them off," Marcus said.
Willy nodded and tugged the briefs down Marcus's muscular thighs. He was nearly hit in the face as Marcus's cock sprang free, rolling forward to point right at Willy's mouth. The boy's eyes widened, and he kept his eyes on it as he pulled Marcus's underwear to the ground.
Willy licked his lips, opened his mouth, and lowered it around the end of Marcus's dick. Impressed by the boy's eagerness and luxuriating in the warmth and wetness of his mouth, Marcus groaned, tempted to give in to the sensation.
"No," he said, grabbing Willy's head in both hands and gently pulling his cock away from the boy. "Not until I tell you to."
Willy looked up with a hurt expression, his large, pleading eyes making Marcus's cock twitch.
"Do you like it?" Marcus asked, nodding at his dick.
Willy stared up and down it. "Yes," he whispered.
"What?" Marcus demanded.
"Yes," Willy said, louder.
"Because... it's so big. It's beautiful."
"If will feel so good inside you," Marcus promised.
Willy was rocking gently back and forth. "I'm... I'm nervous. It's so big."
Marcus had dealt with this fear countless times from boys like Willy, and he knew how to both stoke it and quell it in turn. "Do you want it inside you?"
"Yes," Willy said, and Marcus was again impressed by the boy's eagerness.
"Then you'll be fine," Marcus said. "Now, put your mouth on it. Show me how much you want it."
Willy fell on Marcus's dick, choking down as much of it as he could. While his hot, wet mouth felt great to Marcus, Willy clearly hadn't serviced a dick this big before, and he was struggling to apply the kind of pressure Marcus needed to be fully stimulated. But Marcus was used to that, and he knew letting the boy familiarize himself with Marcus's dick at his own pace would calm him and ready him for what was to come.
After a few long, enjoyable moments of Willy kissing and licking and sucking his cock, Marcus caught the boy nervously looking up at him, and he knew it was time to start giving orders.
"Get on the bed," he said. "Face down."
Willy pulled his mouth off Marcus's cock, gave it a last, wistful look, and then stood. Marcus admired the boy's lean, well-proportioned body again as Willy turned and climbed up onto the bed, his large, round, muscular ass waving up into the air, its curves practically begging for attention.
"Stay on your knees," Marcus ordered. "Ass up high."
Willy did as he was told, and Marcus, thrilled to finally get to work, quickly wrapped his arms around Willy's thighs and pushed his face into the boy's crack. He felt Willy shudder and heard his breathing quicken as Marcus's tongue lapped against Willy's hole. He knew Willy had been telling the truth about how he'd been fucked before, but still, the boy's skin was so pure and unblemished, his lean body so firm and muscular, and his hole so tight that he felt untouched, like a virgin fully ripened and over-ready for plucking. His hole was clean and tasted ready and eager to Marcus, who spent long moments teasing it and then pushing his tongue into it, feeling every reaction from Willy as the boy shuddered and moaned and rocked himself back against Marcus's waiting mouth.
Soon Marcus's tongue was buried to its length inside Willy, the boy's hole squeezing down tight around it. He could feel Willy giving in, relaxing, and he knew he had to stay one step ahead of the boy; he couldn't let him come, not for some time yet.
He pulled his tongue away and quickly slipped a finger in, first partway, then sliding in fully, and he was satisfied at Willy's shocked gasp. He felt the boy's insides fluttering against him as he tapped around, searching for the right spot—and then he found it, as Willy shuddered and then relaxed, a loud, "Oh, yes," escaping from him, Marcus knew his finger was on Willy's center, and keeping a pressure there would push the boy all the way.
Willy began to rock his hips back against Marcus's hand, and Marcus remembered he had to stay ahead of the boy. He slipped a second finger in, pushing gently but firmly, and Willy struggled to accommodate it. Marcus held onto the boy's hips with his other hand, feeling for signs of pain, but instead he sensed only the nervous need of a boy accepting that his limits were being pushed, and discovering how much he liked it. Marcus soon had a third finger in Willy, and he started moving them in ways that made the boy twitch and moan with pleasure and surprise.
"Let's turn you around," Marcus said, and he tugged Willy onto his side while keeping his fingers buried in the boy's ass.
Willy was nearly insensate, and Marcus, his hand still hooked inside the boy, helped him pull his legs around so he could turn onto his back. With Willy repositioned, Marcus leaned down over him, and he was gratified to see the boy, breathing deeply, studying his muscular body with a stunned expression. Marcus shifted his fingers in Willy's ass, and the boy arched his back, gasping, and then he bore down on Marcus's hand while his long, thin dick twitched, leaking precum. He could come this way, Marcus thought. The idea of Willy squirming underneath him, shooting the first load of the night, made his own cock jerk.
But no. Not for a while yet.
He pulled his fingers out, making Willy shudder, then backed off the bed and went to his supply drawer. As he snapped on a condom and lubed up his cock, he turned to see Willy's staring at him in awe and need. The boy was pale and shivering on the bed, still with his legs up, holding his ass open, his eyes desperately asking Marcus to hurry.
Marcus's dick was so hard it hurt. He sauntered back, watching Willy's eyes following the sway of his muscles and swinging dick, feeling both their desires yanking him forward to get started already. All at once, Marcus fell on top of Willy, his full strength pressing down on the boy. Willy's breath turned ragged with fear and desire, while Marcus expertly yanked Willy further up the bed and guided his missile of a dick right to the boy's opening.
He felt Willy's ass shiver around it, and then Marcus's head was pressing against Willy's hole. Marcus kissed him roughly, and that distracted Willy as Marcus pushed the tip in. He thrust his tongue deep into Willy's mouth, feeling the boy breathe desperately through his nose as he struggled to accommodate Marcus's cock, which was slowly thrusting in and out, deeper each time into the boy, until the head and then the shaft was popping in and out, Willy's ass gripping them as tightly as anything Marcus had ever felt.
Marcus had to force himself not to go too fast. Willy was as snug as a virgin, and when the boy broke off the kiss and gulped down air, Marcus worried he'd gone too far, pushing the kid into pain that he'd need time to recover from. Marcus stopped, his dick halfway up Willy. But after a moment, Willy breathed out, relaxed, and squirmed down further onto Marcus, more fully impaling himself on the older man's cock.
"Good boy," Marcus murmured. Willy stared up at him intensely, and Marcus thought again that he'd have to stay one step ahead of the boy to keep things from finishing too soon.
He began to thrust himself deeper into Willy, watching the boy writhe below him as he struggled to take it, but Marcus knew now to be aggressive, and soon he was in all the way to the root, his pubes brushing up against the boy's smooth ass cheeks. He growled at the sensation, lifted up Willy's hips, and started to really push in and out, building to a rhythm. He felt Willy's cock, still hard, leaking precum between them both, but the boy was writhing under Marcus's assault, too caught between pleasure and the work of taking Marcus's dick to be able to come.
Marcus listened to Willy's gasps as they built into whimpers. As much as he wanted to moan from how good the boy's ass felt, he stayed silent, listening to Willy over the slapping of their bodies. "Tell me when you're close," Marcus commanded.
Willy's eyes were glazed over, but he nodded obediently and murmured a wordless assent.
Now the fucking really began, with Marcus spinning Willy into different positions. He held up one of the boy's legs, his hands gripping tightly to Willy's muscular calf and thigh, to better access the boy's ass. He pushed Willy to the side and held his legs together, squeezing the boy's hole around his dick. He sat Willy on top of him and bucked up into him. He put the boy face-down and fucked him doggy style, moving around on to mount Willy in a few different ways, the bed creaking underneath them. After each shift into position, Marcus would slow down, teasing them both, and then build up into a vigorous pounding, careful to watch and listen to the boy.
Willy kept desperately reaching for his own dick, and Marcus would let him jerk it for a moment or two, but then he would bat the boy's hand away. Often he saw Willy struggling to announce he was close before the boy could fully come out with it, and Marcus would change things up, keeping ahead of the boy's pleasure. Willy's eyes would catch Marcus, pleading, needing release, but it just spurred Marcus on faster and further. His own body relaxed into the marathon fucking, needing it after his long drought.
He'd been giving it hard to Willy for over an hour when finally his own need began to burn in him. Willy's dick had gone soft and then hard a few times now; the boy was wearing out. It's time, Marcus thought.
He flipped Willy onto his back, then pulled out and started slowly rubbing his dick around the boy's upper thighs. "You feel that?" he asked, knowing the hard heaviness of his cock was like a baton smacking into Willy's legs. "That's been inside you."
Willy's eyes widened at the wonder of it. He was breathing shallowly, recovering, but after a few moments he was lifting his ass up, trying to get his hole on top of Marcus's cock. The boy's own dick hardened up with his need. "Please," he said. "Please, put it back inside me. I need to get off."
"Shh," Marcus said, and then he kissed Willy, and the boy opened his mouth eagerly around Marcus's thrusting tongue. Then Marcus ran his hands down Willy's tight, muscular body, grabbed the boy's hips, and held them down while he positioned his dick and pushed back into Willy. The boy pulled away from Marcus's kiss and gasped, arching his back, his legs clenching around Marcus's hips as the giant cock re-entered him. His ass shook, spurring Marcus on, and soon they were in a building rhythm again, Marcus slapping into Willy as the boy closed his eyes and bore down, his whole body rigidly locking itself around Marcus's dick.
Marcus expertly sped up his thrusting a notch at a time, timing it to build them both closer and closer and closer to release.
Willy reached down for his cock but Marcus pushed his hand away and instead pressed himself onto the boy, knowing the friction of his abs against Willy's dick would be enough. He started deeply pounding into Willy's ass, and the boy's whimpers kicked up and started blending together into a cry of sheer pleasure. Marcus's own cock was painfully hard, the pressure in it building and building, and then Willy was shouting, "Oh fuck, oh fuck."
His dick erupted, gushing come between them. Willy's ass clenched and shook with the force of his orgasm, and Marcus felt himself go over the edge. Grunting, he unloaded into his condom, Willy's insides shuddering around his cock.
Marcus felt so grateful for the long road they'd taken to this moment, the boy squirming beneath him, both of them experiencing a lengthy orgasm as all the pent-up tension of their fucking finally released, over and over again, their bodies rubbing it out of each other.
As the intensity of the moment finally let go, Marcus leaned down over Willy and kissed him gently while slowly pulling out. The boy shuddered, then was still. He watched listlessly as Marcus stood up and stripped off his condom.
"That was incredible," Willy said. "Did I... did I do OK?"
Marcus held up the cum-filled rubber and grinned. "You did great. Now let's shower off and get ready for another go."
"Whoa," Willy said, shaking his head as he stumbled to his feet. "I'll need some time to recover."
"We have to make tonight count," Marcus said, grabbing Willy by the shoulder and steadying him. "It's your last night here, after all."
"Last night?" Willy said. "I'm here for another week." He left the room, his perfect ass swaying off toward the bathroom.
Oh fuck, Marcus thought, but then he laughed. Guess my book will just have to wait.
It was a thought he had many times over the following week, in the ocean as he secretly fondled Willy's ass under the water while his oblivious parents read their eBooks on shore, in his apartment as he tutored the boy in the art of blowjobs while Willy's parents napped out on the beach, and every night as he fucked the boy in every corner of the resort, including a few times out on a dark corner of the beach.
They had to make sure Sandy Bottom lived up to its name, after all...