The water seems like it’s boiling, and my balls are boiling. They’re so tight, my breathing stops, his tip grinds deep—swirl—and he hits that spot, squeezing my dick at the same time. Dex hits me hard, fucking brushes the spot again, and this is too much, and I cum. 

I am biting my bottom lip almost until it bleeds. I am cumming in the bubbles in the white foam, and he is still fucking me hard, his hand is still pumping me like an insane handshake, and.this.is.killing.me. 

I am still cumming when I see his pupils suddenly dilate and his face is red, making his black hair even blacker, and one more time I am shown how much modern man has advanced… 

Dex cums. His hand moves from my fading dick and to my hips, and the whole time he is cumming, he is pumping, like a furious rock song with some mad guitar riff ending. He is ending me.  He is ending himself. 

We are both undone. He is still inside me, still substantial, but softer, a throbbing piece of his soul, and my head is on his shoulder. Dex is holding me. The ocean is bubbling softer now, and all I can remember is that trip through the Metropolitan Museum of Art one year. 

The Byzantine Empire ended with the Turkish conquest, and a treasure was found on the outskirts of an Islamic town.  Next week he will come to conquer me all over again.