at my rear.

My prostate was alive and on fire, and my hand was the perfect orgasmic complement. This might have been the fastest I’d come since I was a teenager. I tried not to do the math, but I think I was spewing jizz against the front of the Coke machine fewer than two minutes after this whole tryst began.

Jared mirrored my excitement. I felt him tensing and wheezing, huffing out a few last clumsy jerks before his legs went all jiggly and gooed me down on the inside. I felt his cockbeast pulsing and writhing in my guts as he filled me up with several hot wads of serviceman semen.

Both in a huff, he separated. Jared stepped back and busily went about drawing up his pants and belt. I also snatched my trousers up. As I stood, I felt Jared’s seed oozing out of my ass and creaming my boxers.

Once we were both redressed and readied, we finally made eye contact. Each of us could see the awkward worry, embarrassment, and confusion in the other’s eyes. Not knowing what exactly to say or do, I just reached down and plucked my Sprite from the tray. I twisted off the cap and took a hearty swig.

Sighing out a heavy breath and wiping my hand across my sugary-carbonation soaked mouth, I tilted the bottle and slurred, “Drink?”

Jared’s trepidation lifted into a coy smile. “Don’t mind if I do.”