“You’re stronger than people think. We all know this. You’ll be all right,” Tank whispered, playing Clover’s ribs as it they were strings while he ducked into the heat of the blanket and pulled on the boy’s sweatpants with his teeth.
As soon as he saw the growing erection in the dusky shadows lit up by the glow of the fire seeping through the blanket, all other thoughts dispersed. Tank teased the cockhead with a few kisses that made Clover moan and raise his hips, but the boy would have to wait for more. First, Tank wanted to bury himself deep in his pliant warmth, because this wasn’t only about getting his fill of the boy. Tank had faith in his skills and experience, but he wasn’t stupid. If things didn’t go their way, this could be his last night with Clover, so he wanted to remember him in the finest detail.
He needed to make sure neither of them was left with a sense of regret.
Clover’s slim thighs tightened around Tank’s head when he sucked in the tip of the smooth cock, closing him in a bubble of warm musk. The pre-cum spread over his tongue, and he hummed with pleasure as its flavor caused a shiver to run down his body and tighten around his balls. Hands cupped his head, and he moved his own to Clover’s legs in response, gently kneading the tempting thighs.
“So good,” Clover whispered, trying to clutch at Tank’s hair, but the strands were too short.
The blanket was scratchy against Tank’s back, the fire crackled nearby, and he could still smell the s’mores. He had Clover moaning in his arms, and craving his love. Tank could hardly think of a better night. No past or future mattered right now.
He squeezed Clover’s ass that bit more tightly and got the sweetest whimper in response. He loved everything about Clover’s need for him. He was almost twice Clover’s age, yet the boy made him feel like the most desired stud.
Tank got the ultimate confirmation of Clover’s eagerness when the boy turned under him, and rocked his soft ass against Tank’s crotch.
“I want you inside,” Clover whispered, as if he were shy about anyone else hearing him.
Tank exhaled and pressed a kiss to each of the buttocks. It was dark, but the weave of the blanket let in some of the light, creating the most wonderful image of round globes, so delicious Tank couldn’t wait to dig in. He rubbed his face into the small of Clover’s back and moved up, reminding himself of every scar, every blemish, because as painful as their origins were, they were now a part of Clover and his story. And Tank wanted to remember it all.
“Sweet thing. You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he said, his head emerging from under the blanket.
Clover giggled, arching his ass up again, and it was pure pleasure to see him so relaxed. “Anything for my Daddy. You were gone for two days. I fingered myself thinking of you yesterday.”
Lust squeezed Tank’s balls, and it felt exactly like Clover’s smooth, lovely fingers. “How many times?” he whispered and unzipped his pants, pushing them down, as if this was his one chance to bury his cock in Clover, and it could be gone all too soon.
“Just once. Wanted to save myself for this,” Clover rasped, and as Tank’s frustration about the need to get up for lube rose, Drake was once more there for him.
Without a word, Drake placed a tube of lube next to Tank’s hand. Their eyes met, and he smirked at Drake. The kinky bastard was there to watch. He’d always been a voyeur, and had watched Tank have sex many times even before Clover had joined their group.
But he was helpful, Tank gave him that.
“I want you to keep doing it when I’m gone. And as you fuck yourself with those fingers, I want you to think about your Daddy. Who knows, maybe I’ll even feel that you’re calling out to me somewhere,” Tank rasped and gave Clover’s ass a gentle slap.
Clover’s breaths quickened when Tank rubbed lube between his buttocks. “Yes, Daddy. I will. I’ll do it thinking of you and your cock.”
Tank’s head turned hazy with heat, and he generously spread lube over his own dick, ready to slide into Clover’s pliant ass. He glanced up at Drake, who sat close and didn’t even hide anymore that he was a silent participant in this act. The blanket covered Tank and Clover from the waist down, but Drake would still see Clover’s face twisting in pleasure, maybe even tears, if Tank fucked his boy well enough.
Tank loved how unrestrained Clover was in sex. If things got intense, he’d cry, and wouldn’t apologize for it, just letting go in the arms of the man he was with. It was an openness Tank cherished and never abused.