Luc & Juro get carried away

“OK, I have one to propose,” Juro said, shifting to cross his legs at the foot of Luc’s bed.

It was a Friday morning, and the Celandine Hotel was quiet before what promised to be a busy weekend. The two young men, having just woken up, sat in the third-floor room where Luc lived. Juro had stayed the night after a dance party at the Fria café ran into the wee hours. Morning light flooded through the window as swallows dove from beneath the eaves.

As they often did late at night or first thing in the morning when staying over, Luc & Juro made up small games — usually variations on truth-or-dare and never-have-I-ever. It often devolved into egging each other on while jerking off.

In the lobby downstairs, Margot loaded a basket with towels fresh out of the laundry. She took care of the hotel herself on Friday mornings, enjoying the quiet before weekend guests arrived. It made her a bit nostalgic for the old days when the Celandine had just opened and she lived in room #6, L’Amoureu, just off the patio. She hefted the basket onto her hip and crossed to the stairway, her low heels clicking on the saltillo tile.

Luc looked up from the photography catalogue in his lap. “Let’s hear it, I’m up for a game.”

“We name someone and both give their boobs a score at the same time,” Juro said with a playful glint in his eyes. “Highest one has to list the three details he likes best.”

Luc shrugged and nodded. “Sure, OK.” They were both fairly breast-obsessed, but Juro was much more outspoken about it. “Who’s first?” Luc asked, setting aside the catalogue.

“Em.”

They sat and thought for a moment. Em had danced with them at the café the night before, wearing a white gathered bandeau top that left ample room for uninhibited movement. Juro gave a nod and they both revealed their scores. Luc held up eight fingers and Juro held up nine.

“I’d say the thing I like most is how lively they are,” Juro said with an abstract hand gesture. “You saw the way they were moving last night. Also, they look super firm, and I love the way they jiggle in an almost sharp way,” he added, rounding out the list. He crossed his forearms over his lap.

Luc raised his eyebrows and nodded, thinking of his next pick. “How about Tati?”

Ten fingers each. She was top of mind for them both after their climactic morning together at the Come-In.

“We can agree on that,” Juro said, laughing. “I couldn’t take my eyes off that swoop down to her perfect nipples.”

“I know, they’re magnificent,” Luc said, easily calling Tati’s unique breasts to mind. He felt himself stiffen slightly and looked down to check that it wasn’t too obvious.

“I’m getting hard too, no need to hide it,” Juro said, glancing down at his own lap.

Margot straightened a stack of towels in the shared bathroom between Tempérance and Le Diable, and moved onto the one between La Maison Dieu — Luc’s room — and Le Toile. The bathroom was still and dim, the only light coming from the wide gap beneath the closed door. As Margot silently hung a towel over the edge of the clawfoot tub, she heard voices filter from the room next door.

“I’m down if you are.”

“Honestly I kind of want to.”

Her heart skipped as she registered the unmistakeable quality of their tones.

Juro had his long, curved erection pulled out through the fly of his turquoise boxers. Luc had wriggled out of his black boxer briefs and was enjoying the feeling of exposure and freedom.

“Alright, next person,” Juro said, absentmindedly springing himself from side to side with his fingertips. “You know Jule, who plays guitar on the patio sometimes?”

Luc held up ten fingers without hesitation. Juro followed with nine.

“Well what can I say, I really like big breasts.” Luc leaned forward and slapped his palm playfully against the underside of his erection. “And she often goes braless, which is the absolute hottest look. They’re like, low, and somehow wider than average. I think they’re beautiful.”

“No disagreement here,” Juro said, squeezing his hand around his base. “What do you say we stroke to those hefty lowriders of hers?”

The voices carried faintly but clearly into the tiled stillness of the bathroom. Margot shifted, trying not to make any sounds that would give her away. She hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but nor could she let go of her curiosity. The way they were openly talking with one another as they masturbated called immediately to mind the sight of the two young men climaxing together against Tati at the Come-In. She had watched from across the sculpture garden before climaxing herself.

“I’m really stroking it for her big titties.”

“Yeah you are. Work it with me to those big hefty jugs.”

Margot felt her chest flush at the boys’ playful, slightly ridiculous language. She turned to the mirror mounted on the back of the door and absentmindedly spread the collar of her white popover. The thin unlined bra underneath gently pulled her naturally wide-reaching breasts together. She admired the expanse below her collarbones, which she had always considered elegant. Escalating sounds of hand on flesh rose from under the door.

“I want to see you shoot that big load all over them.”

“There we go, I’m about to come!”

The young men grunted and moaned behind the mirror. Margot took the opportunity to slip out of the bathroom through Le Toile and back into the hall with the half-empty basket perched on her hip. She laughed to herself as she slid her hand down the cool brass banister of the stairs. Well that was something.