John gasped shallowly, somehow making Zack even harder. He shifted and immediately cried out. His pants were so tight, moving even a little felt like a caress. He was tempted to touch himself, especially now that it would be smooth, supple hide rubbing against him instead of the harshness of denim. But it was way too risky. A light breeze could set him off.

“Please, Wesley,” John said, “you turn me on so much. Please don’t stop. I can picture you perfectly, with your sexy body and piercing eyes. You’re just the right height to push me up against a wall and kiss me. I want to run my tongue over every one of your freckles and dig my fingers into your hips. I want you to grab a fistful of my hair and yank my head back and then kiss my neck until I can’t even stand up anymore.”

John’s description made the scene unbelievably real. Zack had been imagining a vague likeness of the two of them, but now he saw them in high definition: him, in the groom’s outfit John had picked, his brow slicked with sweat, pressing John back, threading his fingers through John’s blond hair and sucking red marks onto John’s fair skin. It was all so real—too real now that he’d seen John in person, like they were actually having sex.

“Fuck, I can’t stand it any longer,” Zack growled. “I turn you around and slam you against the stable wall. You’re surprised, but I’m on you so fast, you don’t have time to react. I grind my hips against you, letting you feel my hard cock against your ass. I fumble for your breeches, trying to push them down. I want to throw you on the floor and fuck you in the hay, but that would take too long. I need you now. I push your clothes down just enough, just enough to give me what I need, and then I do the same to mine. As soon as my cock is free, I press against your hot skin, reveling in how soft it is. I keep a little bottle of hand lotion in my back pocket. Normally, it’s just to keep my skin from getting too rough after hours of working with tools. But now, I have another purpose in mind for it. I pull it out and pour some onto my fingers.”

Zack managed to break out of the sex-fueled haze long enough to ask, “Are you sure this is what you want? Anyone could walk in on us. There’s nothing we can do to stop them.”

“Fuck yes,” John moaned. “I don’t care who sees, just fuck me already.”

Zack hissed, “Keep your voice down, or it won’t matter. They’ll hear you all the way at the house.”

“I don’t care,” John whined again. “Fuck me. Now.”