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peter_weps_ince]
Clay is walking along the shoreline. His jeans are wet from the spray but he doesn’t seem to notice.
He is wearing a jacket for once.
He isn’t looking for Weps.
Exactly.
He is wearing a jacket for once.
He isn’t looking for Weps.
Exactly.
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"Perfect, he whispers hoarsely, lining himself up and sliding his cock in slow and deep. Weps gasps with pleasure as seats himself deep, his heart racing. Under his hand, Clay's is racing in time.
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He gasps and moves a little, rocking, feeling it better, fully.
His skin is damp.
He grabs hold of the hand on his chest and tangles their fingers.
Yes
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Deep within him.
He shudders, almost on the brink already, wanting to hold back.
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Weps breathes in sharply. Suddenly he's very close and a rasping groan escapes him.
"Clay..."
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He presses back, wanting to feel as filled as he can for as long as he can, wanting to take Weps deeper.
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"Clay," he whispers breathlessly, "ah, Clay..."
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"I'll remember, Clay," he murmurs sleepily, "I won't forget this place or Aragorn or you or even David. I'll be back - I promise."
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He dreams of the ocean, stretching out in front of him, endlessly, distant cries from the invisible shore.
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