Re: Exterior: a rest stop, desert [sexual content]
Something about the semi-casual, sideways-frantic way that the stranger with his gold dusted mouth and the transparent shine of his lashes had the boy reeling, breathless and thumping the curve of his skull against the door that shut them into their own little world of humid lust and languor. He didn't think much of the way that the man seemed to twist, discomfort in the face of his breathless consonants. Because it wasn't much, in the grand scheme of everything: standing bare, stark with his olive skin and his clothing in a heap all around him on the filthy tile of the floor with his dick so fucking hard that it was curved up towards his navel.
His hands found their way to the man's waist, rucking up the fabric there so that he could drag his thumbs over that sharp V-shape poking out above his jeans, and then - oh, those jeans. Even as he was spread into a wide stance with insistent fingers and the caress of calloused fingers against his balls making him whimper with lips parted, he dropped one hand between their bodies to slide against the bulge hidden under the man's zipper.
The boy sighed out soft and sweet into that hungry kiss, sliding his tongue along the man's teeth. He revelled in the taste of grease and white potatoes on a foreign tongue, and then it felt like a good time to reverse their positions so that he could back up towards one of the stalls and drag his liberator along with him with slender hands fisting in the cotton of his shirt. It was just a second's fraction to flip down the toilet's lid and sit, and then he was leaning forward to nuzzle the tip of his nose against the cornsilk down on the man's belly, breathing coming hot and wet. One second, then two, and then he was biting open the zip of his fly and pulling the length of his cock out. The chapped crest of his lips provided a friction as he mouthed against the drip of salt at his tip, before opening wide and swallowing him down to the root with ease.