Subtropical Trilogy 3: Paradise Found

excessica publishing

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 4,095
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This is the third of three short stories of sun, sea, sand, sex, and love that comprise Subtropical Trilogy. The events unfurled after I made a spontaneous decision and bought a small island in the Florida Keys that I named Paradise Island. After selling my home and buying a houseboat, the island became my weekend haven to paint, relax, and get away from the wild Miami Beach scene. When two cute young porn stars intrude on the seclusion my private key becomes Paradise Found.

Subtropical Trilogy 3: Paradise Found
0 Ratings (0.0)

Subtropical Trilogy 3: Paradise Found

excessica publishing

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 4,095
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Willsin Rowe
Excerpt

Yesterday my tranquility was threatened. Sprawled out on the hammock watching a flick and stroking my hard nine inch shaft, I was building up the delicious tension in my balls until my favorite money scene in the twink film, hoping to time my own orgasm to those of the two beautiful teen actors–blond Trevor and brunette Cody. Meanwhile my fist matched the dark-haired boy’s fuck rhythm stroke for stroke as he hammered the blond’s bubble butt. Trevor, on his back, was frigging his nine inch, fat, uncut and upright member at the same speed. I knew from prior viewings that I could shoot between the moment Cody pulls out and covers Trevor’s cock with loads of warm jizz from his even longer and fatter uncut, cock; and the moment when, using his partner’s cum as added lubricant, the blond would blast multiple volleys onto his own chest before mixing the sticky mess together, scooping it up and sucking it off his palm. I usually slurp down my own spooge at the same time.

Five minutes before the climactic moment, I heard the drone of an outboard motor in the distance. I paused the video and listened for the sound to get louder then recede as the boat’s occupants decide Paradise Island was too inhospitable for even a water’s-edge picnic. The sound ceased abruptly and I knew the intruders were coming ashore. I switched to another monitor to view the four cameras I had set up at the few places only a small dinghy could land. Sure enough something was half aground on the rocky beach at an area on the eastern side of the island, farthest from the main highway.

As I watched the monitor I almost fell out of the hammock. Two twinks, one dark-haired and one blond, clones of Cody and Trevor, and dressed only in board shorts?those wonderfully flimsy, baggy low slung shorts favored by surfers–unloaded a picnic basket and cooler from the small boat.

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