George laughed, and rubbed against Jazz again. The pleasure was overwhelming and he could just do this forever. It was like candy, chocolate, sunshine, warmth, experimenting and alcohol all rolled into one little ball of happiness, spread between him and Jazz, concentrated between their bodies, building the pleasure to an almost too intense too take.
But it could only get better. Jazz lifted him a bit, reached a hand between them and George threw his head back again, bucking into the hand on his cock. "Clouds and sunshine," he babbled, thrusting against the grip. "And moonlight and moonshine, all right here. Can't you see it?"
He was restless, and the cock against his arse had him panting and wanting as much as the hand on his cock. He reached back, gripped Jazz's cock in his hand, and guided him inside. And then there was nothing but white-hot pleasure, as he rose up and down, slowly so slowly, dragging out the ecstasy as long as he could.