There's a large boulder covered in moss on the trail beside me, and every muscle in my body tenses as I start to creep around the side of it. I can hear my name again, the sound of what almost sounds like struggle, and then a sharp gasp.
Oh shit, he's in trouble.
I dash around the boulder, pushing past a fern, ripping aside a branch and then-
Oh. God.
He's not in trouble, but I might be.
Javier's eyes are squeezed shut as he leans back against the mossy slope of the boulder. His teeth are bared, and the muscles of his arms and shoulders bunch and strain along with the heave of his chest.
But that’s not at all what catches my eye first.
Because what my eyes immediately lock onto is the fact that Javier's hand is wrapped around his simply enormous cock and stroking it up and down while he moans my name.
Holy. Shit.
My first gut reaction is to be furious, or horrified. But that’s only because I know it’s what I should be feeling. But what I should be feeling is in very sharp contrast to what I'm actually feeling.
Because instead of being mad or offended, or anything like that at all, I find myself very much, very uncomfortably, and very utterly turned on.
The man is like some sort of Greek god; his muscles standing out as he grits his teeth and moans. His cock throbs in his hand, the head pulsing red as his hand shuttles up and down the thick girth of it. I'm wet, instantly, and it's not from my swim. There's a dull, burning need between my legs as I find myself captivated by the scene in front of me.
His hand moves faster and faster, his breath coming shorter and quicker, and as he moans my name one more time, I realize my hand is on my breast, rubbing my nipple through my bikini.
And that’s when he looks up.
We both gasp at the same time as our eyes lock; me from utter shock, but him for an entirely other reason.
Because that very moment is when he comes.
My name groans from his lips as the shaft in his hand throbs and twitches and erupts into the air between us
“Chelsea-”
The sound of my name - directed at me this time - has me snapping out of my frozen state, and suddenly the moment is shattering around me as I come to my senses.
“Oh! I-” I’m sputtering as I back away from him; “I'm so sorry!”
And then I'm running as fast as I can back to the campsite; my heart beating a mile a second.
Yeah, I am officially in no way in control of this operation anymore.
What the hell am I going to do now?
9
Javier
Well, fuck; that could have gone better.
I actually laugh out loud, standing in the middle of the forest like that with my cock still out and half-hard.
Shit.
Yeah, Special Agent Chelsea Archer definitely just watched me come and definitely heard me moaning her name as I imagined her lips and her hands wrapped around my dick. Part of me feels like I should be embarrassed, and if I were normal - which, I'm not - that might be exactly how I'd be feeling right now. I mean, someone normal might actually find some sense of shame there.
...I should probably work on that whole normal thing.
I mean there's no way she doesn't have every idea of what she just walked in on. It'd only have been more in her face if I came on her or something.
Well, there’s a thought.
I'm still chuckling as I tuck myself back in and head back down the trail to the beach. She's going to flip when we're face to face again; that is, if she's even still there. I grin again, wondering if all it would take to get agent uptight spy-girl off my tail would be waving my cock at her. I should've thought of this yesterday!
But of course, she's still there, tucking that stupid unloaded gun into her sarong and avoiding my eyes as I traipse back through the underbrush.
“We need to get going.” She's curt with her words, not only not looking at me, but looking everywhere else but me; as if there's something in the empty stretch of sand that just needs her attention. She’s trying to play it cool and play it coy, but I know the second I look at her that she’s barely keeping it together. I grin to myself; I kind of like the idea that I have the power to make this girl fall apart like this.
“What, no pillow talk?”
Her face goes bright red and though her eyes meet mine for a split second, she hastily looks away; “Let’s- let’s just go, OK?”
“Hey, princess.”
She finally looks up at me, her cheeks an adorable shade of pink. I might be enjoying the power trip of clearly having this sort of effect on her, but that doesn’t mean I’m not confused why the fuck she’s the embarrassed one here. I mean I'm the one that got caught with my Goddamn pants down; literally.
She stammers, looking at the ground between us; “I’m- I'm sorry for-”
“Oh, for what, babe,” I say with a smirk, rolling my eyes; “For seeing it or for lingering?”