Dreams are born or dreams are lost in two minutes on the first Saturday in May.
“Vik, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Pat pushed at Viktor’s chest, but the larger man wouldn’t budge. Viktor kissed him again, this time on the lips. It felt really good. He could feel Viktor’s interest. His lips parted under Viktor’s, and their tongues met, stroking each other along the border of their locked mouths.
Pat broke off the kiss finally and said, “There’s too many people around here. We can’t.”
Viktor stood up and looked around. He pointed into the darkness. “We go there?”
Pat’s heart started beating faster and his mouth went dry. Viktor couldn’t be serious. But he was. Viktor grabbed his hand and the blanket and tugged him deeper into the park, toward the bridge. “We can’t leave our stuff—” Pat started to protest then gave it up; Viktor wasn’t listening. Stubborn as a goat, he grumbled to himself, but even as he pretended disinterest, he could feel his erection trying to burst out of his pants. Viktor was so very hot and the thought of doing it out here, in the open, was a heady draught of exhilaration.
The park was nearly deserted now—only a few people were in view, and none of them was close. Viktor found a secluded spot of ground overhung by branches. He looked at Pat. “Good?”
“Yes,” Pat managed. He helped Viktor spread the blanket, though he was still nervous about this. Oh, the trouble they’d be in if they got caught! But…he glanced at Viktor. The man wasn’t going to wait until they got back to the barn. That much was obvious—he’d not be getting that back into his pants any time soon.
Viktor pulled Pat into his arms and proceeded to kiss him all over. His hands wormed into Pat’s clothes to stroke his skin. Pat found himself undressing with Viktor’s urging and assistance. Viktor caressed Pat languidly, his large eyes black in the darkness, but somehow, Pat realized Viktor didn’t have any problem seeing him. Viktor’s hand found his crotch and Pat gasped.