I hadn’t seen Javier in five years, not since his divorce and move to Costa Rica to run a luxury eco-resort. When he invited me to stay at his villa for a couple of weeks, I jumped at the chance. My own divorce had been finalized six months ago, and my architecture firm was in a lull. I needed the escape.
The villa was breathtaking, perched on a cliff overlooking the Pacific. Javier greeted me with a bear hug, his smile as wide as ever. “Marcus, you look tired, amigo. We’ll fix that. Sun, surf, and good food.” He showed me around the open-air living spaces, the infinity pool that seemed to spill into the ocean, the guest casita where I’d be staying.
“And this,” Javier said, nodding toward the sliding glass doors that opened to the deck, “is my son, Leo. He’s staying for the summer before med school.”
Leo stepped out of the shadows, and my breath caught. He was… exquisite. Wild dark chocolate waves tousled by the ocean breeze, skin bronzed and glowing, eyes the color of the tropical sea—clear, bright blue, framed by thick lashes. His lips were full and pink, curved in a casual smile. He wore only low-slung board shorts, his torso lean and sculpted, abs defined, a light trail of dark hair leading down from his navel. I’d never had a reaction like this to another man. My heart hammered, my mouth went dry.
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“Hey, Mr. Kincaid,” Leo said, his voice smooth and warm. He extended a hand. I took it, his grip firm, his skin hot. A jolt went through me.
“Please, call me Marcus.”
“Leo’s been surfing since he was a kid,” Javier said proudly. “He’ll take you out if you’re brave enough.”
Leo’s eyes held mine. “I’d love to.”
That first week was torture. I’d find myself staring at Leo as he stretched on the deck, his muscles flexing. Or watching him emerge from the pool, water sluicing down his chest. I’d excuse myself to my casita, hard and aching, and take myself in hand, imagining those pink lips wrapped around my cock. I felt guilty, confused. I was forty-eight. He was twenty-two. He was my best friend’s son. But the desire was a constant thrum.
One night, Javier went into town for supplies. Leo and I were alone. We’d had dinner, a few beers. The air was thick with humidity and unspoken tension. We sat by the pool, the only light from torches and the full moon.
“You’re staring again,” Leo said softly, not looking at me.
“Sorry.” I swallowed. “It’s just… you’re very beautiful.”
He turned his head, those blue eyes piercing me. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
He stood up, peeled off his shirt, and dove into the pool. He surfaced, pushing his wet hair back. “Come in. Water’s perfect.”
I hesitated, then stripped to my boxers and joined him. The water was cool, a relief. We swam in silence for a few minutes. Then he was in front of me, so close I could feel the heat from his body.
“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” Leo whispered. “It drives me crazy.”
Before I could respond, his lips were on mine. Soft, insistent. I groaned into his mouth, my hands coming up to cup his face. The kiss deepened, tongues sliding together. I was painfully hard. He pressed his body against mine, and I felt his erection too.
“I want you,” he breathed against my lips.
“Your father—”
“Is gone for hours.” He kissed me again, his hands roaming my back, slipping beneath the waistband of my boxers to grip my ass. “I’ve wanted this since the moment I saw you.”
He led me to the shallow end, where I sat on the submerged bench. He knelt before me in the water, his eyes locked on mine as he tugged my boxers down. My cock sprang free, thick and eager. He licked his lips, then took me into his mouth.
The sensation was electric. Hot, wet suction. His tongue swirled around the head, then he took me deeper, his throat relaxing. I tangled my hands in his wet hair, watching in awe as this gorgeous young man serviced me. He bobbed his head, sucking hard, his hands gripping my thighs. I thrust up gently, lost in the pleasure.
“Leo… god…” I gasped.
He pulled off, stroking me with his hand. “I want you to fuck me,” he said, his voice husky. “Right here.”
He turned, bracing his hands on the pool edge, presenting his perfect, round ass. I stood, my cock nudging between his cheeks. He reached back and spread himself. “I’m clean, I’m on prep. Please, Marcus.”
I spat into my hand, slicked myself, and guided the head to his hole. It was tight, but he pushed back, taking me in slowly. The heat was incredible. I sheathed myself fully, groaning. He was tight and hot around me. I began to move, shallow thrusts at first, then deeper. The water sloshed around us. Leo moaned, pushing back onto me.
“Yeah, fuck me… harder…”
I gripped his hips and pounded into him, the sound of skin slapping mixing with our ragged breaths. I leaned over him, kissing his shoulder, biting gently. He reached between his legs to stroke himself. I could feel his muscles clenching around me.
“I’m gonna come,” he warned.
“Come for me,” I growled.
He cried out, his release spurting into the water. The tightening of his ass sent me over the edge. I buried myself deep and emptied into him, pulses of intense pleasure wracking my body.
We stayed like that for a moment, panting. Then he turned and kissed me, deep and sweet.
That was just the beginning.
The next afternoon, while Javier napped, Leo led me into the jungle behind the villa. We found a secluded waterfall, a hidden paradise. He pushed me against a smooth rock and dropped to his knees, taking my cock into his mouth with eager hunger. I watched the sunlight dapple his skin as he sucked me, his blue eyes looking up at me. I came down his throat, and he swallowed every drop.
That night, in my casita, I returned the favor. I explored every inch of his body with my mouth, licking and sucking his nipples, trailing kisses down his abs, taking his cock deep. He tasted salty and male. I fucked him slowly on the bed, missionary, watching his face contort in pleasure as I hit his prostate. We fell asleep tangled together.
A few days later, we risked it on the beach at dawn. He rode me in the sand, his body silhouetted against the rising sun. I gripped his hips and thrust up into him, both of us covered in a sheen of sweat and seawater. We came almost simultaneously, shouting our release into the morning air.
The final encounter before I left was the most intense. On the balcony of my casita, with the ocean roaring below, I took him from behind, hard and fast. He was bent over the railing, begging for more. I pounded into him, claiming him, my hands possessive on his skin. We came together, and I held him afterward, whispering how much I wanted him, how I’d never felt this way.
We knew it couldn’t last. Javier would never understand. But we exchanged numbers, promised to see each other again. As my plane took off, I looked down at the shrinking coastline, already aching for him. My secret, my tropical temptation.
