I am a treasure being uncovered. He is digging up sand, millions years of history. I am being unearthed, his finger finds my opening—and with the warmth, the water—the jets—and our dicks trapped between us, rubbing up and down in between our bellies buoyed in the water—I am uncovered. 

His mouth latches onto one of my nipple rings, and where the water had been hot. The metal in the ring had grown warm, and my dick grew with that warmth. It’s his mouth now, his funny, sweet, goofy mouth sucking, and his teeth pulling on the ring that is a sudden coolness. There’s an ice cub like sensation running along my dick, and I buck into him, he pulls my nipple ring even harder. 

This aqua play by play goes on for a time. We are trading mouth and skin, our cocks use each other. Dex is ecstatic to feel the piercings in the underside of my cock rub up against the flesh in his, and he smiles. Dex almost laughs, but passion steals the laugh, when my mouth sucks on the side of his neck, and I kiss him softly and sweetly where I had just nipped the skin. My hands are around his middle. 

A second finger enters me.

The Byzantine Empire was the extension of the Roman age. The Romans were decedent things, with their wine, their sex, their celebrations, and their gods. We are decedent. I am drinking from him, we are celebrating the fact that our bodies feel so good together, and gods are men, because only a man can fuck me like he can. 

This is where the jets are turned higher. It’s just a flip of the dial and bubbles foam like mad sea waves, my eyes are a yes, my voice, 

And I am lifted up light and easy, the water makes me light and easy. But his cock, that tip pressing so hard and warm, a steel rod covered in flesh, is not easy, and it’s his suck on my tongue, his hands gripping my hips too hard, when he forces me down, and Dex is finally inside of me. 

I never waver my gaze from his. Sure my eyes are drunken little orbs because I’ve just been entered, my pupils dilate just like my ass, and I’m drinking him in this time, with my eyes. His eyes are dark gems fastened to the outside of the chalice, they never leave mine. His eyes say, 

His mouth screws up in concentration and, I bite my bottom lip, my hands hold his shoulders, and my head rests on the side of his, and he buries himself. 

I am no longer a treasure buried in the desert alone. Some distinction of a dead empire, something holy and lost; I am his. He is mine, and we are together like the serpent that makes waves in the desert sand—side winding a pattern in the crystals—Dex is making the same pattern in me. 

Water doesn’t slow down fucking. Water makes fucking deeper. I am a weight suspended by physics, water displacement, but his hands, his will and determination, his pure and simple lust for me pulls me down as his ass, and his hips pump up. I am being cored. 

This isn’t just a feeling of fullness—this is some sort of Barbarella Orgasmastron—something designed to fuck you until you die. He is fucking me so hard, that we are making waves in our little ocean, water is spilling out, but we don’t notice, he just fucks me harder. 

I think it was my head tilting back, a sudden glimpse of a too blue sky riddled with sun flares, and he reaches around,