To my astonishment, I saw Reece situated between my legs, his actions mirroring those of someone savouring their favorite treat. The shock and ecstasy blended into a bewildering experience as he continued eating me out...
"Reece!" I gasped, my voice...
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Reece
Bang, bang, bang.
"Hey, yo, wake up, bro!" my brother Lance calls from my bedroom door, still pounding on it relentlessly.
"What the fuck, Lance? Stop banging on my door! I'm up, you dick!" I shout as I swing the door open.
"You're the dick," he shoots back in a mockingly childish tone. And he's supposed to be the older one. "So mature."
"So mature," he repeats, laughing, and I scowl at him.
"What do you want?" I ask, still half-asleep.
"It's 2:30 PM you lazy shit and Austin's at the door," he replies with a smirk.
"Wait, 2:30 already?" *Damn, I must've been more exhausted than I thought.* Our flight home landed at midnight, and after sending a text to Lorna, I crashed and passed out instantly.
I glance at my phone and see a message from Lorna, my best friend. We hadn't talked much over the summer while I was in Spain, just exchanged some texts and the occasional phone call. I'd tried to FaceTime a few times, but our timing was always off. I heard she got her braces off, and I'm eager to see the results. Not that her teeth were an issue before—she had this adorable little gap that suited her. But if it makes her happier, I'm all for it.
I read her message:
Lorna: Hey Stranger ;) Glad you're back. Give me a shout when you wake up, and I'll call around later, yeah? :)
Just as I start typing my reply, Austin, another close friend, barges into my room. He practically tackles me with a bear hug. "Hey, man! I missed you so much," he says, pretending to sniffle dramatically.
I chuckle and play along, "Missed you too, you big weirdo."
He steps back, eyeing me up and down. "Holy shit, bro. You've bulked up!"
"Yeah," I reply with a grin. My size and definition had definitely increased after an intense summer of training. MMA fighting has always been my thing—an underground passion. My dad's cool with it, considering he's a former fighter himself and now trains fighters in his spare time. He also runs his business, owning a few hotels across the States and one in Spain.
Austin probes, "So, did you win any fights over there?"
"Yeah, a few," I reply, though most of my time was spent training and helping out at my dad's hotel.
His eyebrows wiggle mischievously. "Meet any hot señoritas?"
I nod, mentioning Yara, a girl I met. She's also from the States, and her father manages the hotel in Spain.
"Is it serious?" Austin asks, leaning in with interest.
"Nah," I say, shrugging. "I'm not looking for anything serious, especially with the whole distance thing."
