WATERMELON ENERGIZER
The river was quiet early, like it was holding its breath. John liked it that way. The rocks were still cool, the water slow and dark. This place always felt charged, like something could happen if you just stood still long enough. It was a known spot, a place for men to gather when the city got too loud.
John felt heavy in his body, not tired exactly, just full. Used. His ass was still slick with lube and cum from the dawn session, a raw reminder of the three men who’d taken him against the big oak tree. He could still taste them on his tongue.
He grabbed the watermelon and sat down on a flat rock, legs open, not really caring how it looked. The melon cracked easy. Juice spilled right away, running over his hands, down his wrist. He laughed under his breath. He took a big bite, loud and messy. The sweetness filled his mouth. He chewed slow, letting the juice drip.
That’s when he noticed them. Shapes across the river. Five guys, standing still, pretending not to stare. John didn’t look away. He met their eyes while he ate. He took another bite and leaned back a little, letting his chest lift, letting his body show.
He knew what they were seeing. A body already marked, already claimed, ready for more. He shifted on the rock, flexed his thigh without thinking. The fabric of his briefs clung tight, showing the outline of his half-hard cock. He dragged his thumb through the red flesh of the melon and sucked it clean, slow.
One of the men whistled. Another laughed. John smiled. That crooked, lazy smile that always worked. He stood up, juice still on his hands, and stretched again, arms up, back tight. He could feel eyes on every inch of him.
He didn’t rush. He took his time. He finished the melon, tossed the rind aside, and wiped his hands on his thighs, leaving faint streaks. He stepped into the water. Cool around his calves. He looked at them again and tilted his head, just a little. A question without words.
They moved then. Careful steps across the rocks, water splashing softly. John stayed where he was, watching them come closer. His heart beat slow and heavy. The air felt thick, like it does right before a storm.
When they were close enough, he spoke, voice low. "Long morning."
They laughed, nervous and eager. Hands were on him then, pulling his briefs down, mouths finding his neck, his chest. A thick cock pressed against his ass crack, already hard and leaking.
He was pushed to his knees in the shallow water, surrounded. One dick filled his mouth, then another, hands gripping his hair, fucking his face. He was turned around, bent over a slick rock, and someone entered him in one hard thrust, making him gasp around the cock in his throat.
The river kept flowing. The sun climbed higher. John was just a body now, a vessel for their need, taking them one after another, his holes filled, his skin slick with river water, sweat, and spit. The heat was already there, building, and he was at the center of it, burning bright.
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