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Sicily was a place that was hard to describe in any specific way.
On the one hand, it is an island where more mature, even elderly residents predominate due to the calm, peace and understanding among people.
However, if you literally turn your head slightly to the side, then Sicily already ends up in a place of special accumulation of mafia groups, gangs and areas that you don't want to go to at night.
Although most often the mafia did not bother anyone unless you entered their territory, it was the small gangs and hooligans trying to prove something to someone that were more annoying.
But as if they were even worried or even scared by such a prospect.
They themselves were members of the mafia.
The mafia, that obviously had much more impressive influence.
That's why going to Sicily became an opportunity that absolutely couldn't be missed, so they took advantage of it immediately after a short lull in Italy.
And even if something extraordinary did happen, it was not on such a scale that the Boss would bother L’ Unità Speciale.
This place seemed like paradise when you close your eyes to danger and see only people living their lives, evoking only a warm feeling of sincerity and kindness.
Children respected their elders, each other, they often saw them playing with other children, despite their age, feeding a stray dog and all that Squalo didn't see even in his peaceful dreams.
Women, although they couldn't always boast of something particularly outstanding in their pocket of successes, being in the rather traditional views of Sicily, but they were still just as attentive, responsible and could stand up for themselves, doing what was sometimes difficult to imagine.
The men were hard-working, but they also loved to rest, because hard work always deserved a good rest.
The Sicilians were generally quite noisy, it was hard not to notice.
But the most important thing that Squalo noticed, not only from Tiziano's rare stories, was their attitude towards women.
Love, respect, awe, no girl would be left sad or bored while living here.
What there supposed to say, you don't even have to be a woman for a Sicily to try to cheer you up when they see your gloomy face.
Although he also understood that a person like Tiziano could be irritated by this, given his character and especially his appearance.
And there was a small catch.
An ordinary Sicilian will love you until you start going beyond they established conservative and habitual views of the world.
And so their relationship was more like a huge red rag being twirled in front of a bull.
It sounds like a problem.
And, probably, it was.
It just depends on who exactly it became a problem for.
Squalo had quite a few sharp, sometimes thoughtless, wayward views about the world and his life in general.
And if some idiot didn't like the fact that two men were doing something that this old man couldn't do to a woman even in his wettest dreams, then Squalo was going to make it even worse.
Tiziano never liked to attract unnecessary attention to his person, he was generally a rather detached person from those around him.
Therefore, Squalo's inspired zeal to do some stupid shit, without thinking about the consequences, caused only a heavy skeptical sigh.
– I'm surprised.
Parking somewhere in the area not far from the center among many trees around and filled with a bunch of different cars, from cars to trucks.
It was late at night, people were heard less and less each time, as well as vehicles passing by.
Even the lights were partially starting to turn off due to inactivity.
– This store is open 24 hours.
They were sitting in a well-groomed Fiat 124 Spider, washed after the trip, which Tiziano looked after no less than himself, always keeping it sparkling and smelling delicious. And they were there because someone had managed to quarrel and almost fight with the administration of the hotel where they were staying, for which they were thrown out.
Never in his life would Tiziano have thought that he would ever find himself in such a situation, especially in his native land.
– I understand. I mean your appearance.
With a silent sigh, he leans back against the car seat, reluctantly shaking the rest of the lemon soda in the can, while Squalo silently and even somewhat detachedly finished his lemonade with lemon and tangerine, occasionally nibbling the neck of the bottle from the tension and coolness hanging in the air.
When he gets home, he will definitely feel sick for another week from so much citrus.
– Don't like it?
Squalo doesn't so much notice as feel with every corner of his body the oppressive gaze that shot a hole through him immediately after the question was asked.
Like a mouse, he thoughtlessly retreats, awkwardly twitching the edges of his lips.
– I'm kidding.
– We came to my house.
The direction of this conversation becomes clear instantly, which is hardly good news.
A stern, low voice hit into chest like a hammer, forcing me to involuntarily purse my lips, like dogs do in fear, and turn away, unable to look into the scolding golden eyes.
– We were added to the blacklist of my favorite restaurant, my father's neighbors now look at me askance, we were kicked out of the hotel at one in the morning…
Tiziano scolded him like a child, dictating his service record with deliberate depth and heaviness in his voice, as if with each new fact a rebar was falling on Squalo, pressing on what seemed to have been suppressed in him since his youth.
Conscience.
Making him really think about regret for his overly rebellious behavior, although more likely, amazed at how Tiziano managed to awaken this feeling in him at all.
– Tiz.
– You dressed up for your almost 35 years in a way that not every pubescent teenager would dare.
Ashamed, not even knowing why he had decided to interrupt Tiziano now, since he had nothing to say, solely because it seemed there was nothing to.
Everything had been noted as always.
He turned away, propping his head up with his hand and leaning against the door, preferring to look at the pitch-black night in the parking lot rather than choke on the condemning gaze, even though his fingers gave him away, tightening their grip on the neck of the bottle standing between his legs, but still humbly listening to the educational lecture that he had never been subjected to even by his parents.
At least not with such sensations in his chest.
His teeth involuntarily bare themselves from the emotions that overwhelm him, collecting on the tip of his tongue a huge lump of thoughts and silent sounds, ready to pour out into a continuous stream of remorse, fall to his knees, kiss hands and beg for forgiveness-
In theory
Until a bolt of electricity hits him right in the lower back
Squalo immediately twitches, without a second thought, jerking his shocked, tense gaze towards Tiziano.
– And you thought that I would calmly watch all this?
The velvety voice remains unchanged, despite the dramatically changed situation, and because of this, Squalo experiences even more mixed feelings.
He barely forms a coherent thought in his head, finding the strength only to swallow nervously, all the while not taking his eyes off Tiziano as if he had seen a ghost.
Running along the strict, but at the same time soft features of the face, a wave of tingling goosebumps runs through his own body, emanating from one specific place, and the blue eyes of their own accord drop downwards.
Everything in his chest instantly tightened from the sight, now even more vividly the sensation of a soft palm, slowly sliding under his short skirt along the inside of his tense thigh.
Everything twisted in his lower abdomen, he was short of breath, his legs were numb and shaking, his heart was beating faster from such an insignificant, but such an intimate gesture.
Was it because he was wearing socially accepted women's clothing?
With effort, Squalo raises his tense, just like his cock twitching in his thin panties, gaze back at Tiziano, who only narrowed his sly fox eyes, clearly reading his reaction.
But he saw, saw on those lips the barely cherished malicious grin.
– It seems our engine was acting up.
Squalo's Adam's apple involuntarily twitches from a quiet remark addressed to the car, but also stern enough for him to straighten up in his back from the clear hint that even he caught.
– I'll take a look.
He literally jumps up from his seat and leaps over the convertible door, just barely avoiding spilling lemonade on the seat.
But, fortunately, as if realizing the danger of this risk, the bottle ends up on the asphalt not far from the wheel, bending down to put it down, almost low enough to show off all the fun, but the skirt today was treacherously playing on the wrong side.
Tiziano relaxed in the driver's seat, sipping his bitter lemon water and enjoying the sight of his little troublemaker, whom he couldn't help but love even after all that shit, even if he wanted to.
And he didn't want to.
But what if he loved him for all that?
Strong legs in fishnet stockings above the knee and one silk knee-length on the right leg, heavy boots with laces, the meaning of the color of which Tiziano remembered forever.
Strict hips held two red belts on a short skirt that barely covered ass, but even so, somehow magically, maliciously, did not allow underwear to be seen, no matter how Squalo twisted.
Where was the wind when you needed it?
The tensing muscles of his neck were restrained by a leather choker with small spikes, and his dark blue jacket lay on the backseat, revealing a heavily heaving freckled chest, half covered by a mesh top.
Perhaps he liked this view even more than he should have.
Putting the soda aside, leaving literally a couple of drops at the bottom, he takes a few sips of plain water, carefully cleaning his tongue of the citrus bitterness, finishing just as he heard the click of Squalo opening the hood of the car with a couple of strong movements to check the engine.
And while his slightly trembling hands persistently pick at something, Tiziano slowly walks around him, looking at the engrossed Squalo, how his hands tense up when he tugs, squeezes or pulls something, the curves of his muscles on his arched back and inadvertently, quite by accident, lowering his gaze to his ass, which has finally lit up.
With a quiet, clearly satisfied from gotten chuckle, Tiziano approaches him from behind, lowering an ingratiating palm onto his clenched thigh and lightly stroking it.
– Did you find anything?
– Most likely, a new capacitor is needed.
Such a sharp, real answer regarding the state of the engine knocked Tiziano out of his mind for a moment, not fully understanding how serious this answer was or whether he said the first thing that came into his head to keep the atmosphere.
One way or another, they would deal with the engine later, just so as not to abruptly end their journey with the engine stalling somewhere in the Sicilian wasteland.
– It's amazing what a clever mind is hidden in this rebellious head.
Before Squalo could react to the simultaneously mocking and sweet remark, a loud slap was heard in the silent parking lot, knocking out of him a poisonous hiss from the burning collision of skin on skin.
His hips involuntarily twitched from the rough treatment, which immediately changed to caress, with which Tiziano gently continued to stroke the rounded ass, barely hidden behind the fabric of panties.
Squalo can barely concentrate on anything other than the hand circling him dangerously close to his most intimate parts with a special attention, trepidation and pressure that only Tiziano could combine in the right measure.
His muscles tense as he grips the edge of the bumper tighter, despite his earlier attempt to pull away after the blow, still sticking his ass out to meet it, to show off to the golden eyes.
The edge of the skirt rises in the wind and, at least now, lifts the mesh fabric, revealing an appetizing view of the underwear that barely conceals the most intimate details, which he wanted not so much to take off as to thoughtlessly rip as quickly as possible, without thinking about anything and bury himself in this sweet, seductive ass that had been twirling in front of his nose for so long.
– It's interesting how you walked around like that all day.
Tizian savored every word and every second of this view, which he seemed to never be able to get enough of.
– Are you really comfortable or are you just enjoying it?
Squalo involuntarily bites his lip at such a sharp accusation, almost biting through the skin with sharp teeth from another slap that suddenly hit the twitching skin.
Adam's apple jumps from the nerves seething inside, releasing the swollen lip and clenching his teeth painfully.
– I don't give a fuck.
Tiziano doesn't react, only uttering a quiet moo at the bold audacity shown. He more than expected such an answer, moreover, he knew it.
He was not an idiot, after all.
And they had known each other long enough to predict the actions of this little shark head.
But, as it turned out, not always.
– I do.
Without letting go of Squalo's hips, Tiziano slides his hands along them, simultaneously squatting down and finally, circling round buttocks with his palms, lifting up this annoying skirt.
Because he was preventing him from admiring, of course.
Full lips begin to slowly descend onto the skin, savoring each kiss left, forming a path along and around the legs, hips and the ass itself, which couldn't help but attract attention, accompanied by almost inaudible sighs from somewhere above.
The parking lot is once again filled with the scorching ringing slap of another full-palmed blow, this time causing him to jerk back.
– Bend lower.
The very fact of obedience weighed on Squalo every time, on his principles, on everything he had fought for as a teenager, but he couldn't help himself.
He could make people afraid of him, and not without reason, but then Tiziano comes along and somehow turns him into an obedient puppy.
Although it would be a brazen lie to say that he's not satisfied with anything.
With a sharp, impatient movement, he slams the hood so that each car, just in case, independently checks its own, so as not to receive the same blow, and stretches out on the hood, giving Tiziano all the strongest and most inviting forms.
However
His eyes begin to wander around restlessly, not having any effect, action or even a word in response to his efforts and obedience for the next few seconds.
Squalo gathers strength to turn over his shoulder at least out of the corner of his eye, but he is beaten to it, forcing him to inhale loudly at the sharp sensation of panties being pushed aside.
Damn Tiziano was just admiring.
– Just look how you've rubbed your skin with those ridiculous panties.
Biting his lower lip for a moment to somehow release his own energy already boiling in his body, despite his usual, habitual calm, Tiziano leisurely licks his middle and ring fingers, thoroughly wetting them with an abundance of saliva.
– Let's help you a little.
Licking his lips, he moves one hand from Squalo's thigh to his waist, not only for his own convenience, but also in a silent demand to arch his back and stick out his hips.
The result follows immediately. Two wet fingers of the second hand, dripping onto the rest of the skin, descend between the freckled buttocks, stroking, massaging and teasingly tracing with soft movements the treasured trembling ring of muscles, so vividly reacting to the barely applied pressure.
– Tiz...
Squalo whispers quietly, not knowing why.
He didn't call, didn't ask, he just felt the need to say this name, each time experiencing a strange feeling of safety and peace, as he called it.
Swallowing a huge lump of nerves in his throat, preventing him from breathing, he painfully bites his lower lip, just to keep from twitching himself.
A trembling hand reaches back to grab himself by the buttock, slightly pinked after the previous blows. Under his palm, he feels a slight burning sensation on the skin, but through it, Squalo squeezes his fingers and pushes it aside, slightly opening the hole, which shamelessly trembled in an obvious invitation.
Tiziano can't hide the lips trembling in a weak smile and doesn't make any of them wait. With one light but precise movement, he pulls the thin fabric of the panties down just enough to expose not only the elastic ass, but also the cock trembling in anticipation, finally open to the open air for all to see.
Now his own palms are squeezing these buttocks, driving Squalo's hand to the small of the back, and independently spreading the path to the main feast with his thumbs. Licking his lips, catching the sweetest moment, Tiziano, without delay and warning, buries his nose in the tailbone, and with his hands roughly tugging at the hips towards him closer.
With a quiet moan, he carefully traces the wet ring of muscles with his tongue and knocks out of the trembling Squalo a muffled, abrupt wheeze under the pressure of a skillful attack. The nimble tongue didn't miss a single wrinkle, carefully examining the cliff, not a single crack, at the very end resting the tip in the very center, pressing with a noticeable, but insufficient to push through, teasing pressure.
Squalo's legs were shaking and buckling from the sparks that every movement sent into his spine and flowed into his lower abdomen, leaving his cock to helplessly pulsate into the void, while he himself could only restlessly shuffle his heavy boots along the asphalt, not knowing what to do with himself and all those emotions burning in his body, with the splash of which he was kindly helped.
At one unexpected, but perhaps expected, moment, Squalo's breath catches and he arches uncontrollably, throwing up his head with curly locks jumping under the impact of the blow that pierced him through and through.
– FUCK- TIZ.
With a gasp, if not out of breath, he groans, squeezing his eyes shut and convulsively drawing up his leg, which is going numb from weakness, in order to rest his knee on the hood at the will and desire of Tiziano, who pushed him to do so.
The tip of the tongue, once pressing on his entrance, suddenly pushes through, but it could have been just an additional, mind-blowing pleasure if he hadn't been dealing with Tiziano.
It doesn't stop at those feeble couple of centimeters inside, piercing Squalo through and through with tingling lightning bolts from the tongue rapidly continuing to penetrate deep inside, wriggling inside at various angles, bending with difficulty and hitting all the sensitive corners in an attempt to stretch the tight walls, wetting them with an abundance of saliva and stretching them around the organ.
From his open mouth, in a silent, more choking groan, a thin line of saliva flowed, falling onto the car hood after the drops of sweat. Squalo's entire body shuddered, barely able to hold himself on his feet, let alone speak or even think, only humbly bowing his head before the effect of Tiziano's mouth on him.
The thumbs press firmly between the buttocks, slowly but quickly pushing them further apart, gradually sliding further towards the sphincter stretched around the tongue moving inside.
He clings with his tips to the tight walls, strained even more by the sudden new penetration, before forcing himself to stretch even more following both fingers pushing inside up to the first phalanx.
– Stop! Fuck- not so quickly.
Squalo reacts immediately, hissing through his teeth and breathlessly grabbing Tiziano's head and roughly squeezing, tugging at his hair.
However, just as quickly as he grabs the silver hair, he is also quickly punished for his rough treatment, replacing the hiss with a pitiful howl. Instead of lips, slightly jagged, pointed teeth pierce the flesh, painfully biting and squeezing the sensitive skin with their jaws, which instantly discourages even the idea of thoughtlessly throwing hands.
And he immediately pulls his hand away, offended, following the jerking ass. With a trembling from contrasting, mixed sensations, Squalo crashes his forehead into the red hood. If he can't resist, then he should accept, giving in to every push of the velvet tongue, rubbing against his most responsive places inside and slowly, carefully reaching out to his already rock-hard cock, oozing along his leg, dripping onto the car and the asphalt, like the last desperate whore caught at a gas station.
But even here his plans fail.
He has to jerk his hand away from his aching cock again, choking on air, when his wrist is suddenly and roughly grabbed.
– Fucking GOD, TIZ.
With a breaking voice, Squalo broke off after hitting the car with his fist as a point, having twice experienced cardiac arrest and lung failure, as soon as a tiny, but no less dangerous tentacle slid from Tiziano's mouth. The stand's appendage grasps his testicles, straining in a grip, squeezing and only holding him back from the cherished edge.
The pitiful, hoarse voice, every sound, the curse, his own name, everything that the unfortunate rebel was capable of making in such a state, only further egged Tiziano on to new mockeries. He undoubtedly and even more so without shame enjoyed, reveled in the power and influence over a man who was ready to wring the neck of anyone for just one word or action that he didn’t like, but who broke under him like a newborn puppy.
The suction cups clung to the thin, sensitive skin of the sac, rolling the pulsating testicles between themselves, sometimes loosening their grip enough to allow relief, but then squeezing them back just as tightly under the source of the mooing.
To completely fill every corner of sensitivity in this trembling body, the owner of such a harmless-looking but evil stand reaches out and wraps his fingers around it, confidently squeezing the hard, hot thickness in his palm.
Squalo lets out a trembling sob from the long-awaited attention he has received, and it works like a red rag to a bull.
Continuing to kiss, suck and fuck that delicious ass with his tongue, Tiziano begins to push needy cock with his palm, already soaked through from the abundance of precum.
Each time he purposefully pushed the organ with difficulty into the tight grip, imitating the tight wet space that today Squalo doesn't even have a chance to get.
– Tiz- Tiz! Oh fu-ck, please. Please, yes-
Squalo is languishing, his body involuntarily, completely unwilling to contact his head, shudders and twitches from side to side, unable to find a place for itself in the miserable attempt to enjoy the tongue buried in him as deeply as possible, but at the same time to push towards the tight palm.
A little more and he was ready to admit that he was starting to go crazy from excessive attention and caresses, almost seeing the white light.
– Pleeeaase, f-AH- I wanna cum, wanna so fucking bad, Tiz!
He howled hysterically, begging himself, not understanding whom, knowing full well that begging had the exact opposite effect on Tiziano, but he couldn't help himself, his tongue seemed to move on its own.
His lower abdomen twisted, as if twisted in the ocean, his testicles were squeezed in a tight grip of a tentacle, testifying to the tension in his body and the rapid approach to the edge, his heart stopped for a second, and oxygen quickly left his lungs, when, accompanied by a silent groan, Squalo began to cum with heavy, painful streams, shooting out with each slow, tight push of his palm, falling and drawing white patterns on the asphalt, the car.
The crushing pleasure, the release he so badly needed, leaves him empty for a few moments before, just as abruptly as the peak had come, it gives way to violent spasms, because the tongue inside him continues to move, ignoring and only enjoying the feeling of the walls tightly clenched in a rush of orgasm, the hand with even greater, new pressure twisted and rubbed against the swollen, now especially sensitive head, until the ill-fated tentacle did not stop playing with the tight sac.
– TIZ NO, SHIT- you fucking-!
A loud moan escapes from Squalo's lips, straight from his wheezing throat, caused by the sharp and complete evaporation of the pressure in one moment, the tongue slips out with a jerk, spraying saliva everywhere, the tentacle slips back into his mouth, evaporating, and the palm, stained with all sorts of liquids, breaks away from the cock twitching from blissful torment, only leaving the exhausted punk helplessly suffocating, lying on the hood with a slight tremor.
In an attempt to regain some semblance of composure and generally minimal awareness of reality through his stunned breathing, his body still reflexively pulsated with the feeling of lonely emptiness inside, while he himself lazily rolled down through rare, no longer so strong convulsions.
He barely manages to slide down to his knees, when Tiziano immediately deftly grabs the feeble carcass by the hips and, without the slightest chance for a break, forces him back up onto his weakened, almost non-functioning legs, barely able to support any weight at all, even with support.
– Don't relax, I'm still upset that I won't be sleeping in a bed tonight.
Another spank, which Squalo had managed to forget about, just like all other things, knocks a new whine out of him, not yet ready for new cruel tests.
Only after that, as if he had sobered up a bit, he tries to dig up at least some strength and pull himself together, so that, still staggering, he can hold on to his not quite straight legs, bending after Tiziano's hands, which were pulling his thigh like a rag doll. However, the feeling of a hard, protruding erection on the stretched cream fabric of his trousers, tightly pressing between his drooling buttocks, helps him to sober up even more.
He doesn't even immediately realize when he's no longer wearing underwear.
– Oh shi...
Squalo doesn't have time to finish the short, miserable sentence before he chokes on his own tongue from the sudden new stimulation.
Tiziano's hips were pushing and rubbing hard between his clenched buttocks, teasingly, deliberately hitting the sensitive, once again tight entrance that, despite the sensations of the rest of his body, was met with each new thrust, causing a tremor in the lower abdomen, bordering on anxiety, while Squalo's brain was still recovering from the previous orgasm.
But even through the post-orgasmic haze, he keenly feels the sudden stop of sweet friction, leaving behind rather mixed feelings. But this time it was because Tiziano wanted to tease him a little again, and to carefully, without letting Squalo suddenly fall, remove one hand from the limp waist and begin to unbutton the trousers.
A distinct rustle, a sharp jingle of a button and a fly, everything hit not only their own ears, pampering their overexcited hearing, but also echoed dully through the parking lot, hitting empty cars.
At least, they hoped that they were empty.
He slowly lowers his pants and underwear down his thighs, but only enough to pull out the organ, lowering the fabric under the base.
Squalo's heart skips a beat the moment the hot, hard length lands on his tailbone, sending an electrified shock along his entire body, followed by his lips opening in a silent moan, but all his throat can do is toss his trembling Adam's apple under the thin flesh from the feeling of drops of burning pre-cum smearing across his skin.
Unable to remain ignorant while these hands do whatever want with his body, not that he minds it, he glances at Tiziano out of the corner of his eye, frantically watching as the tanned palm closes around the thickness, smearing the leaking precum with a sweet smacking sound, before pressing the erection against the agitated hole with his thumb and, after a while, this time starting to rub directly.
A deadly conflict of desire flared up inside him again, to have that cock completely inside him as soon as possible, but at the same time to get at least a tiny respite.
– Gh- Tiz, a bit- too intense..
Choking on saliva, Squalo's wheeze quickly turns into another sob from a new hit to his tortured ass, beginning to turn red and tingle slightly.
His ass reflexively jumps up, the hem of his skirt twitching after the sharp movement, leaving Tiziano to watch in anticipation, biting his lip and feeling how much his enviable self-control is being put to the test.
– You should be quiet. I heard voices somewhere in the distance.
Well, Squalo heard nothing. Nothing but the buzzing in his ears, through which Tiziano's velvety bass voice broke through, and the sounds that their intimate contact provoked.
– If it means entering me sooner...
– Would you like that?
Even if not right away, clearly not expecting, although it was worth expecting, knowing Tiziano, a direct question to his words, Squalo nods with a slight hesitation, but still gets another slap, this time noticeably rougher, digging his nails into the ass that had clenched from the roughness.
– Hell, yes! Yes, stop rubbing your damn dick against me!
Almost a growl, a still pitiful but impressive plea comes from his throat. Knee firmly planted on the hood for support, he reaches out and, forcing Tiziano to pull his own away, casually grabs his own reddened buttock with nail marks and pushes it aside.
– I have no idea what I want, but you have to impale me like the last bastard for what I did.
– Is this remorse?
– TIZ.
Tiziano even shudders at the voice that suddenly bursts out, sometimes forgetting what his little games can do to this man. However, he only accepts the renewed ardor with a slight grin, admiring Squalo's usual impatience despite his contradictory state.
– Yes, you're right. Such little rebels need to be properly punished.
He painfully slowly moves his hips away, depriving even of that sweet weight that was lying on Squalo's lower back, but only in order to take hold of his own cock with fingers and, after a couple of persistent thrusts with his palm, rests the tip against the entrance inviting him to enter quickly.
His full lips, more like two soft marshmallows, open, bowing his head, and then a small part of tongue slips out of the mouth.
A little later, while his palm was still caressing the pulsating organ, hot saliva began to slide down from the tip of his tongue, falling in long, almost unbroken paths between the buttocks and the head of his penis.
He independently rubs the moisture around the pulsating ring, mixing it with the flowing pre-cum, and his own length.
They both fall silent as soon as Tiziano pulls Squalo by the hip with one hand, his own giving in to meet him, allowing at least a short silence to hang in the air, interrupted only by the quiet smacking sounds of two bodies joining.
The swollen head presses quite tightly on the hole, prompting the edges of the sphincter, including with the efforts of Squalo, to open, letting a small part through. The walls close around the thickness, with tension bending around the edges of the head and accepting it inside.
Finding himself more confidently in the pulsating body, Tiziano freezes for a second, quietly sighing from the hot sensations, and carefully lowers down his own length and roughly, not with a jerk, but quickly enough, plunges into the hospitable body, tightly pulling the edges of the hole around the organ and with a resounding slap crashing into the ass, driving himself to the very base.
And it's as if a rock avalanche is falling on Squalo. He jerks his head up, stretching the thin skin of his throat around his bouncing Adam's apple, and uncontrollably squeezes the hissing Tiziano inside him after a new, unintentional orgasm washes over him.
The white substance painfully flows out, splashes out of him, forcing him to almost fall in a grip on his hips, incoherent curses flying out under his breath.
His body hadn't yet fully recovered from the previous peak, as it was again subjected to mad convulsions, although vibrating around the organ inside, adding only more sensitivity to itself.
– You never cease to amaze me, do you?
Tiziano wheezed hoarsely, desperately trying to at least with his fingers pull the edges of the tightly squeezed walls around him, pulsating on his cock, shaking the tender, gentle insides against all the most sensitive places and almost making him moan.
But today this was exclusively Squalo's task.
He catches that second when the tight tunnel begins to relax from the spasms, sometimes still slightly compressing, but the attempts to relax were noticeable, enveloped in choking sobs somewhere in the car hood, stained with saliva, and then makes the first heavy push, a rough collision knocking a guttural groan out of Squalo.
– Mouth.
Even through his clouded mind, through the shooting spasms in his lower abdomen from the lack of any, even the slightest, respite after the unexpectedly experienced intense peak, Squalo obediently closed his mouth with trembling hands, clasping his palm between his teeth and moaning, whining through his fingers.
The corners of Tiziano's lips slightly lift from the sight of diligent despair, squeezing the fabric of the short skirt, already wet at the edges, with his hand and tugging at it, persistently pulling Squalo towards him and loudly crashing into his already tingling and reddened ass with slaps hitting his ears, with each new one forcing him to stagger and shift from foot to foot from the cock completely immersed in him, rubbing so sweetly against the lumpy walls.
His own cock, honestly, was beginning to go limp after the second, but no less exhausting orgasm, dripping the remains of thick semen mixed with an abundance of pre-cum onto the asphalt, but that pressure, that force with which Tiziano mercilessly fucked him, echoed in every corner of his body, seething with piercing tingles in the lower abdomen, descending into the pulsating testicles and sending sparks straight into the organ, forcing it against its own will to harden again.
Squalo moans, exhausted from the lack of oxygen due to the suppressed voice, but somehow still breaking into wheezing, swallowing and incoherent semblances of human speech.
– Don't squeeze so hard.
– I can't!
Tiziano bares his teeth and swings, once again pushing an unhappy groan out of Squalo from another burning slap on his ass, tortured by such merciless attention, adding a pinching tingle to the catel of sensations.
He trembles like a bath leaf, beating his elbows until they bruise on the surface of the car, which is as red as his buttocks, but still blindly clings on, so as not to fall at one point in the grip on his thigh and the skirt threatening to tear.
Buying new clothes, of course, is not a problem for them, but ruining them so absurdly now was not in the plans, although Tiziano could, if he got completely carried away. But while common sense is not yet completely lost, he tugs at the strong leather belts, jerking sharper to meet the thrusts of the hips, from which Squalo almost lost his balance, immediately sinking his teeth into his fingers, palm, wrist, everywhere, just to drown out his own voice, which broke from the increased tempo.
At some point, Squalo's heart skips a beat, but not for the same reason as before, for some reason a wave of anxiety ran through his body, diluting the hot sweat with a few cold drops.
– Tiz..
As quietly as possible, he whispers, not feeling his own body, stretching his hand back in an attempt to grab Tiziano.
– Tiz, wait.
Even if not right away, only because he didn't hear it at first, Tiziano can't ignore this gesture, catching the hand that slid towards him with his gaze and the worried blue eyes, crashing to the very base for the last time and freezing for a few moments before finally slipping out and meeting his gaze.
They both freeze, not saying a word or asking a question, as if none of this was really necessary, listening to the night that has fallen on the parking lot and the voices that are coming from nearby, breaking through the silence.
They almost simultaneously, without any hints or prompts, fall to their knees together and bend down, hiding behind the car.
– Assholes. Why did it have to be now.
Squalo snaps through clenched teeth and attentively, without taking his eyes off, watches a group of rather noisy people walking across the parking lot towards the 24-hour store, but suddenly stops, starting to discuss something in a chaotic and loud voice.
You wouldn't expect anything else from emotional Sicilians.
– Hell, fuck off already.
Almost inaudibly even to himself, he continues to hiss, irritably clinging to the bumper with his fingers until he begins to feel the weight pressing on him from behind, prompting him to grip the car tighter.
A dense chest rests against his shoulder blades, aristocratic hands fall on his hips, gently and attentively stroking, laying his head on a strong, tense shoulder like an innocent puppy.
– Tiz.
He cuts off sternly because of the continued caresses, turning sharply from the electrifying touch and almost bumping noses with each other.
With a noisy sigh, he grabs Tiziano's hand, trying with all his might not to make any sounds at all when the long fingers began to rub against his stretched ring, teasingly and enticingly circling, opening, collecting the flowing mixture of liquids and smearing it back.
The golden eyes narrow slyly behind a playful smile, Squalo had often seen this look on Talking Head, but when its owner revealed his full nature...
All he can do is involuntarily shudder and immediately cover his mouth with his hand, squinting until a white veil appears before his eyes.
The damn cockhead painfully traces the edges and presses itself against the wet hole, this time almost immediately plunging inside.
– Fuck- Ti-
– Shhh, watch your mouth.
Tiziano gently soothes him in a whisper, hugging him tenderly around the waist and burying his nose, despite his usual squeamishness, in his tense, sweaty neck.
He follows Squalo as he, exhausted, leans against the machine and, silently, like him, sweating profusely, taking one incomplete thrust after another, not even realizing it, but so desperately needing the full length.
At first biting his lip, almost biting through, he immediately switches and sinks his teeth into his hand with uncontrollable force, letting out a little spurt of blood, so exhausted by despair from not understanding what to do with himself, when in addition to the terrorizing pleasure from behind Tiziano grabs his exhausted, but still just as needy cock, starting to pump in time with his own thrusts, just as sliding his palm not along the entire length, focusing more on the more sensitive head.
The voices that continued to argue, echoing across the parking lot, only heightened their senses, making them press close and need each other as much, if not more, than they needed oxygen, which both of them were starting to lack at some point.
Tiziano feels Squalo pulsating inside him, cock twitching in his palm, and, having slammed the edge of his palm into the base a couple of times, how his balls clenching, evidence of only one thing.
Only he, surprisingly, through his own depraved consciousness understands that he himself was not morally ready to finish.
Or rather, he can, of course, but not inside Squalo, what devastated himself from the inside.
– Shit.
Now Tiziano hisses, accepting this ridiculous fate and with a jerk, at the most unexpected moment, slipping out of Squalo's warm insides, from which he only miraculously, no less, didn't scream, but immediately noticing cock with fingers, roughly pushing the middle and ring fingers, around which the slippery walls immediately closed, and in a convulsive pace, without slowing down, fucking him with his fingers.
Blue eyes involuntarily roll up from an excess of feeling, shrouded in tears from such a quantity of continuous and varied pleasure, sharply replacing one another, his hips involuntarily move towards each other, now in one direction, now in the other, darting between his fingers and palm.
Feeling the edge on which Squalo walked in exhaustion, Tiziano roughly, having swallowed before, opens mouth and sinks slightly uneven teeth into his shoulder, finally finishing him off and forcing him to finally cum.
His legs tremble, numb from the uncomfortable position that Squalo simply didn’t have time to think about changing, with silent groans adding more white, no longer so massive, patterns to the slightly damp, not only their fault, asphalt.
His body can barely withstand the third orgasm, falling exhausted to his knees, scratching his skin, tearing his fishnet stockings and choking on hundreds of tears and his own voice, barely breaking through from somewhere in the depths of his throat, while Tiziano persistently continued to mercilessly milk him from both sides, prompting him from an excess of intensity again, with even greater force of aggravated post-orgasmic hypersensitivity, to forcefully hit the car with his fist, echoing across the parking lot.
The gesture, however, has an effect on Tiziano, prompting him to finally open his palm and remove his fingers, then deftly catching and holding the limp body beneath him, glancing at it briefly and then looking out to observe how the group of Sicilians, apparently not having heard them, are finally entering the shop.
– Poor Squalo.
He quietly attracts attention, slowly leaning towards the ear of his unfortunate baby shark.
– If you dented my car…
With a quiet laugh at this gesture, Tiziano lowers his head onto his shoulder, gently tracing his nose along his neck, inhaling the mixed scent of their bodies, lightly touching his earlobe before pressing his lips to it in a hot whisper.
– Squalo..
He catches a barely perceptible breath in response, to which he stretches out and presses his lips to his temple in a light kiss.
– I'm not cum yet..
Squalo's breath shudders not so much from the information as from its realization. Closing his eyes and lifting his head, he wearily reaches out his hand towards the still hard and unreleased member, while he himself has already come several times.
However, he's not allowed to do this, taking hold of his wrist and pushing his hand away.
– No, Squalo. Not like that.
Tiziano presses his lips closer to Squalo's ear.
– I want to feel your hot.. thick cock on my tongue.. so that you fill my mouth properly.. and then my throat with your sem-
– Fuck, Tiz-
He is interrupted by a quiet laugh, with which Tiziano slowly lowers his hand to lightly circle the flaccid organ.
– I can't...
Such an answer is not satisfactory, not after what has happened, and therefore is tactfully and directly ignored, despite the hoarse and exhausted voice.
Tiziano roughly grabs him by the collar of his jacket, urging him to at least try to stand up and help, then forcefully sits him down on the hood.
– I've already cum three times.. this is too much..
– You will cum as many times as you screwed up today. I'm sure we will find another salvo in this treasure trove.
He settles himself more comfortably between the spread legs that finally got a chance to rest, slowly tracing the inner thigh, feeling how the skin still tenses under his fingers, and gradually moving closer to the exhausted organ, the trembling testicles.
Tenderly bestowing them with soft attention, Tiziano covers the freckled skin with gentle kisses, despite the salty taste, while Squalo himself at this time could only sigh heavily from the sensitivity of his own body at each touch of this particular person.
Even if he hadn't been milked for three powerful volleys before, even simple hugs, holding hands, every touch caused either warmth or scorching heat in him.
Leaving a small kiss on the lower part of the stomach, Tiziano finally gets down to the main course. Wet lips relax, letting the tongue pass and circle the sleeping length, kissing the soft head, sucking the still sensitive tip, which immediately shocked Squalo, and finally lowering his mouth onto the trembling organ.
– Tiz, this is awkward…
Squalo whispers, even through the shameful embarrassment of his situation, unable to take his eyes off Tiziano, who is swallowing his flaccid cock with such appetite.
This does not cause any reaction in the body, except for the spasms that still periodically shoot up his spine, not having fully recovered from the last orgasm, but one sensation is sharply different from the rest, forcing him to even sigh almost inaudibly from surprise. His lower abdomen tingles for a moment, when he is overcome by the realization that Tiziano is not just sucking him, but also finishing himself off with his hand.
That made the situation that much more embarrassing.
.... and, well, damn hot.
– Maybe I should-
Squalo stutters, almost swallowing his tongue, as the Sicilians who came out of the store shout at him from behind.
Shit.
He'd forgotten about them.
Forgotten about everything, to be honest.
It's amazing he still remembered his name.
And perhaps being seen wasn't the worst thing about their situation, what was worse was that he couldn't understand a single damn word they were saying.
– Aspettu un amicu.¹
– What?
Squalo responds instantly to the barely audible whisper of an irritated Tiziano, forced against his will to tear himself away from his meal.
– Aspettu un amicu. Say it. Faster.
For a split second, confused, mostly because of the unfamiliar... language, it was hard to call it a simple dialect, Squalo pulled himself together and, leaning back on his outstretched arm, combing his disheveled hair back with his hand, with a confident look tried to repeat the unknown phrase as similarly as possible, looking at the cheerful drunks over his shoulder and immediately receiving the same noisy, perky answer.
– Grazzi, avemu pruggetti.²
Squalo repeats it again, this time more skillfully, building even remotely similar features of the language, at least hearing native "Grazzi", albeit with a rough, distinct accent, which, it seems, didn't embarrass the Sicilians when he waves his still shaking hand in a friendly gesture.
And knowing the Sicilians well enough, Tiziano was ready to stand up and kick their asses himself if these idiots were too persistent.
But everything seems to be going smoothly, even well, the men jokingly nudge each other and say goodbye, muttering something indistinctly to Squalo's back with incredibly wide drunken smiles, to which he waves goodbye in response without a single coherent thought in his head. Sicily may be teeming with crime, but the peace-loving people here still remind native, calm Tuscany.
However, very soon Tiziano makes him choke again, this time with special force, he began to bite into the exhausted organ with his lips and tongue.
Squalo could clearly hear the heavy, abrupt breathing, while in addition to working with his mouth, he satisfied himself, so much teasing and offending Squalo with inaction.
– Tiz-
– Shut up.
Squalo's body tightens and tightens, a muffled growl involuntarily escapes from his throat as Tiziano releases cock from his mouth and instantly thrusts forward, sinking his teeth into his stomach.
– FU-
A loud cry is suddenly silenced by Tiziano's own hand, still wet from a mixture of precum with saliva and sperm. He roughly pushes forward with all his weight, causing Squali to involuntarily lose his balance and pressing his unguarded back and head into the hood of the car, hanging over him.
– Say something terrible, Squalo... I'm so close...
He whispered like a mantra, with his nose buried in his neck and with beads of sweat running down his forehead, thin fingers pressed to his mouth began to slowly wander, stroking his swollen lips with a small amount of blood on them.
Squalo, however, even quite cheerfully takes over the enthusiasm of this desperate attempt to finish, an even more desperate approach to the edge, especially seeing the movements of the palm along the oozing, wet cock.
Damn, how he would like to take it in the mouth, without thinking about anything and suck out everything alive that is inside.
Gritting his teeth from the suddenly overflowing energy and thoughts, he roughly grabs the long, slightly damp from sweat hair on the back of head, immediately pulling it aside and colliding lips, almost opening a new wound for both of them.
Tiziano almost immediately responds to the kiss, as soon as the brain realizes it, exchanging muffled groans, moans and other inhuman sounds into each other's mouths, biting, chattering teeth and intertwining tongues.
– Talking dirty shit is your thing.
Squalo growls, casually pulling Tiziano away and, through a surprised sigh, pressing his back against the car. He throws his leg over, climbs over, properly settling on top and burying that treasured erection between his buttocks.
– I'm a man of action, you know that.
He reminds with a smug grin, frantically wiping his face, smeared with tears, saliva and sweat, with the back of his hand, then grabbing Tiziano's hands and lowering them to his own hips.
– Let's make you cum too, baby.
– Fuck, Squalo…
Tiziano immediately crashes his feet into the bumper and hugs him tightly around the waist, forcing their bodies to press against each other, and buries his nose in the wet, heavily heaving chest, listening with trepidation to the frantic heartbeat.
Confidently settling down, he began to reproduce the first movements, raising his hips and pushing towards the red freckled ass, shaking every sensitive corner between the same slippery buttocks.
And Squalo reciprocates.
He mindlessly scrapes his nails along the surface of the car for a moment before grabbing Tiziano's head, finally connecting in close, intimate contact, especially knowing how much Tiziano loves it, each of whose brisk thrusts he accepts obediently and with a fierce desire, a need from the teasing friction against his tortured hole.
— Fuck- fuckfuckfuck Tiz-!
He sobbed while Tiziano gasped silently, selflessly thundering into his freckled chest, scratching his nails at his exhausted buttocks and slamming his hips into them.
The closer he got to the cherished peak, the rougher and heavier the blows became, until he was finally completely overwhelmed. His closed eyes opened for a moment, rolling up, before immediately closing again, a long, trembling moan escaped his lips somewhere into the skin opposite, when he finally finished, still, but now jerkily and rarely pushing his hips upward.
The white substance fell in heavy white threads onto Squalo's sweaty skin, skirt that had seen life, and underwear, lying who knows where.
Tiziano continued to tremble for a while, thrusting into Squalo's buttocks and kneading them in his palm, while his cock slapped for a while against the pulsating ring of muscles that had not received its cherished portion before it began to go soft.
– Squalo..
He finds it hard to even groan quietly, to show signs of life in response to his own name, until a hand sliding between their stomachs brings him to his senses.
– Four.
– What..?
They meet lazy, tired eyes.
– You came four times.
Squalo immediately, suddenly finding a ton of energy, breaks away, rising on outstretched arms to first look at Tiziano, and then lower his gaze to his stomach, stained with sperm, just like the white suit, for dry cleaning of which they'll have to pay a lot of money.
– Shit, the car is fucked.
Tiziano laughs softly, that rare velvet sound that caresses the ears as he lies in the sweat, not even wanting to try to move. To his own surprise, he doesn't even think about how dirty the seats will be when they sit down, or how disapproving the car wash attendant's gaze will be.
Meeting the relaxed attitude, Squalo can't help but adopt it, sinking back down exhausted, too tired after everything he's been subjected to to do anything.
– I swear, you squeezed me like a lemon...
– I love lemons.
– Hmmm, so you love me too?
Blue eyes lifted unobtrusively, but ingratiatingly.
– You're the sourest lemon I have ever tasted.
Definitely not the answer he expected, prompting Squalo to raise a full, albeit still weakened, questioning gaze to him.
– In the best way.
They collide with weak, but quite warm and emotional, feeling smiles, lying on the hood of the car without a second thought, not thinking about any threats in their situation now, in the middle of the night in some cheap parking lot, just enjoying each other's company, exchanging rare kisses, barely touching lips, as if they hadn't just had crazy sex.