Mardi Gras Exhibitionist

John arrived in New Orleans the morning before Mardi Gras and was relaxing before the thirty-six hour marathon of partying. Instead, he was mesmerized by Paulo and the day became a marathon of sex... culminating in a public display on a balcony over Bourbon Street.

I jumped. Having someone, or something, trying to get my attention in the cemetery was disconcerting. A flash of unruly black hair disappeared behind one of the ornate mausoleums. I followed, stepping as silently as I could.

I rounded the corner of the small marble structure, and Paulo stood leaning back against the recessed door on the front of it, partially hidden from view.

As I got close, Paulo growled, “So, I saw the way you looked at my cock back in the baths. You were hungry for it.”

“Starving…” I pushed him back against the door and buried my tongue in his mouth. I lifted his shirt and rubbed one hand on his hard, ridged abdomen and rested the other on the smooth stone. The similar sensations along with the ferocity of his mouth set my senses on fire.

He broke the kiss and pulled back. “Then, do your boyfriend duties and take care of it.” It wasn’t a request. He reached up and rested his hands on my shoulders, pushing down. My knees crunched dead leaves and settled onto the cold ground.

The outline of his cock pushing against his shorts made my breath come in gasps.

It filled and lifted the leg of the shorts where it dangled. I was glad he wasn’t wearing underwear. Watching it move, unrestrained except for the loose, light fabric made my cock ache. It was incredible how he could make my cock go from zero to sixty in less than a second. He definitely had power over me. I didn’t know how I would let him go at the end of the night.