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My back arches under his touch. “I wouldn’t say no,” I manage.

His turn to snicker, then he reaches over me and snags a bottle of lube from his bedside table.

“Oh, god,” I groan. “Is this a dream?”

He leans over me and kisses me. “No, bad boy, not a dream.” His slick hand grips me and strokes and fuck, fuck, fuck.

He tugs my shoulder so I’m laying on my side facing him and slides his cock into his fist next to mine. Hot, so hot. Silky skin over stiff steel. Head sliding against my shaft, catching as he thrusts, then strokes us both.

“Hold us,” he demands, and I wrap my fist around our cocks. Oh, holy hell, around both our cocks. His is slightly thicker than mine. I’m slightly longer. “Stroke us, Geoff, make us feel good.”

I whimper and I stroke. Long and slow, I don’t want to rush this time. Yesterday was hot and fast and over way too soon, even though we went again after the shower, the hottest 69 I have ever experienced. I slept so well after that. Stroking slow, I want to feel this. I thrust into my hand, sliding my cock along his and he moans.

“Mmm, that’s good,” he breathes.

I twist my hand as I stroke up, and his breath shudders. His hand joins mine, wraps around mine, threading our fingers so I can feel both of us as we pump. His fingers are softer, mine rougher. I hear a keening whine and realize it is me. I bite my bottom lip to try to stop it, and he sucks my lip into his own mouth.

“Let me hear you,” he demands. “Let me hear how good it feels.”

“Oh, fuck, Ben, too good.” I am so close, too soon, but fuck it’s so good. “I don’t want to cum,” I beg. “Don’t want it to stop.”

“Mm,” he growls into my mouth. “You won’t cum until I tell you. Understand?”

I nod frantically and pant, trying to hold off my climax. I try to grip the base of my cock, but he won’t let me, keeps stroking us. He moves our hands to grip just our cock heads, ah god, so good. I’m thrusting helplessly into our fists and his hips are moving, slowly grinding his cock against mine, sliding over my frenulum until I want to scream. I am screaming.

“Fuck, Ben, please, oh god,” I shamelessly beg.

“Not yet,” he purrs. “Hold off for me, baby.”

Ah, god, how do I hold it off, it’s taking over me, my balls are crawling up, tight, my legs going stiff, my ass clenches and I’m panting, eyes squeezed shut.

“Eyes, baby, eyes on me,” he demands, slowing his strokes just enough that I back from the edge. Our pre-cum is a smear over our hands, and I can’t breathe.

His deep brown eyes are blown black, and I can barely keep mine on him as my body starts to shake.

“Ben, god Ben, please, I can’t, please,” I scream again.

“Now, cum for me now, baby.” He strokes us hard and fast. His cum splatters our fists as his cock pulses against mine.

I shatter.

21

BEN

He is so good. His stance is solid, calm. My very excellent caddie, my teammate. My Boy. Scribbling in his yardage book, crouching down to determine the slope of the green, making notes of which club we want if it is dry or wet or windy.

No sign of the man that screamed my name last night and begged me to let him cum.

He meets my gaze without a smirk or any hint that he knows exactly how hard to tug my balls to make me explode. He stands no closer to me than any other caddie does with their golfer.

We discussed how this needed to be, how we needed to be, how important it is to give no sign to anyone that we are lovers. Golf is a very conservative community. I’m here to play, win part of the prize money, and what I do behind my closed doors will remain there until I retire. Which I don’t plan to do this year.

July in Ireland is mild and wet. Mid-sixties with occasional showers, we carry gear to keep us playing through bursts. This far north in the height of summer, the sun rises by five AM and doesn’t set until ten, so we have plenty of time to play through all eighteen holes several times until we have a solid plan for each.

I brought us out here a few days early, ahead of the crowds for the official tournament week. The small cottage I’ve rented for our ten-day stay is cozy and tucked back along a path so no one can hear Geoff screaming.

Over the past few weeks, he has learned more about my cock than any other man before. I have shown him the joys of edging and orgasm control, and his eyes gleam when I make him beg, when I deny him from tipping over the brink into climax. We have yet to progress beyond blow jobs and grinding together, but I plan to find his prostate tonight and see what kind of fun new toy I have.