Coda 05 -Paris a to Z

looking down at me.
He was so beautiful. Hed be thirty in only a few months, but he looked younger. He still got carded for booze more often than not. The light from the window was shining on him, and the shadow of the windowpane created a cross on his chest. I wished Id taken his shirt off, so I could see that light on his gorgeous skin. I wanted to see the tattoo on his stomach, and the soft downy hairs that grew there, pale against his

    dark flesh.
He suddenly looked down at me, and I wondered, not for the first time, if he could sense when I was watching him. He froze, half in my mouth, half out. He smiled, and then he pulled away. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up from the floor, pushing me toward the bed.
“We only have about forty minutes before we have to meet everybody in the lobby,” I said.
He gave me his lopsided grin. “You have superpowers in Paris you dont have in Colorado?” he asked. “Cause back home, forty minutes would be plenty.”
I laughed, and then he was all over me. It was frantic and fun, kissing and laughing together as we tried to get our clothes off. We were hindered as we always seemed to be by his boots, but Id become rather adept at unlacing them with one hand while sucking his cock. The last thing to go was my shirt, which he pulled off of me before pushing me hard, backward onto the bed.
I scooted myself toward the headboard, which was conveniently padded, upholstered in red velvet. I leaned back against it, and he pursued me on his hands and knees, my shirt still in his hands. He kissed me first, his soft hand stroking my cock, but when I reached for him, he pulled away, smiling teasingly at me. He lay down on his stomach between my legs, wedging my shirt under his groin as he did.
“You wont come on the bedspread, but youll come on my shirt?” I asked, and he grinned up at me.
“You got plenty of shirts,” he said, “but Id feel like an asshole askin for a new bedspread.”
“Were down to thirty minutes.”
“You kiddin? Ill still have time for a shower when were done.”
“Are you saying I dont have enough stamina?” I asked.
He laughed. “Im sayin were efficient.” And then his mouth closed around me. He had no problems deep-throating at all. He sucked me in all the way, until his nose was buried in my patch of hair, before he started to move up and down.
I knew immediately that he was right about the thirty minutes. With

    me sucking him and using my hand on myself, I could have lasted a lot longer. But now that our positions were reversed, I had four minutes left in me, tops. For a moment I closed my eyes and simply reveled in the feeling of his warm mouth on me. I listened to his breathing, which was speeding up. I resisted the urge to put my hands on his head. Sometimes I did, and he said he didnt mind, but I was always afraid Id lose control and hold him there longer than I should. Losing control with him was a distinct possibility. If anybody in the world could give a blow job better than him, it sure as hell wasnt anybody Id ever had the pleasure of being with.
I opened my eyes and looked down at him, stretched out on his stomach in front of me. He liked to get off this way, and I certainly had no complaints. He had one hand on my stomach and one beneath him, presumably on his cock. He looked amazing—erotic and sexy as hell. The starburst tattoo between his shoulder blades was like a stamp, or a brand, as if the heavens themselves had marked him as one of their own before tossing him to Earth. His dark skin seemed exotic against the deep red of the bedspread. His narrow ass moved up and down as he jerked himself off while humping into the bed. That was one of my favorite things to see, the way he moved as he fucked himself against the bed. I couldnt help imagining what it would be like to see him fuck another man like that.
I put my hand down, brushing his hair out of the way so I could see him. He was moving faster now—both his mouth on my cock and his humping. I watched my cock disappear into his gorgeous mouth. I saw the way his hips ground deeper into the bed. I heard the desperation in his panted breath. And then….
He made a sound.
It was still so rare for him to make any noise at all, and it surprised me. It was soft, low, and guttural. Maybe it was a moan. I didnt hear it so much as I felt it vibrating against my cock. And the moment I felt it, I came, without quite realizing I was going to.
As soon as I started, Angelo pulled away. It