Mark's vacation home in Nice was a short walk from Plage du Centenaire, a large shingle beach. Anthony was grateful it was a non-smoking beach - it seemed people in France smoked even more than people did in England - and Mark seemed grateful for that as well.
Anthony's parents owned a holiday home in Brighton, two bedrooms, an open-plan kitchen and living room with a fireplace, within walking distance of the beach, gorgeous views of the sea in every room. Mark's vacation home made his parents look like paupers. It was two stories, five bedrooms, two bathrooms, with a hot tub and a rose garden on the roof. There were ferns and palms both inside and outside the villa, and the white walls gleamed in the sun.
It was, indeed, quite sunny here in the south of France. Anthony knew it was going to rain almost all week back in England. It was also warmer for April than Anthony was used to, enough that he and Mark both spent the week in T-shirts and shorts - when they were wearing clothing.
Anthony had been to France before, but had only seen Paris, and not since he was a small child, going there on holiday because his mother had to go to conferences for work reasons, as an architect. Nice was much more laid-back than Paris, but there was still plenty to see and do.
Mark had driven them down rather than flying, since he insisted on bringing his war harp. They had arrived late on Good Friday. Their first full day, Saturday, Anthony was keen on seeing the beach, since he had not been to the ocean for a long time. Mark also wanted to see the ocean - that was indeed why Mark had been planning on going to Nice for spring break.
It was warm enough that Anthony went shirtless, only in swim trunks, wading in the water as Mark sat on a blanket on the shingle beach, looking out to sea and playing his harp. Anthony caught strains of Mark's music as he relaxed in the waves - the songs were minor chords, melancholy, which seemed out of place under the brilliant sun and the festive beachgoers. It was beautiful music, but Anthony wondered why Mark was playing something so sad here.
At last Anthony waved his arms, gesturing to Mark. "Come on over!" He didn't want Mark to feel sad.
Mark grinned and shook his head.
Anthony walked out of the water and over to where Mark sat. He grabbed Mark and started pulling him up. "Come on, the water's nice."
Mark laughed and let Anthony drag him down to the water. Anthony went in up to his waist, let himself get adjusted, and then up to his chest. That was when he felt a splash at the back of his head. When he turned around to see what was going on, he got a faceful of water.
Mark smirked.
Anthony splashed him back. The two chased each other, splashing madly, laughing hysterically. After Anthony got him with one particularly big splash, Anthony leaned in and tickled Mark's armpits before he could retaliate. Mark doubled over and Anthony knew he was ticklish. Anthony tickled his sides, and Mark wheezed and giggled helplessly.
Then Mark got him back - Anthony was also ticklish - and they continued to splash and grab at each other until at last Mark ducked him, and when Anthony bobbed back up, Mark kissed him passionately.
It was such a brazen thing to do, here in public. But France seemed a bit more liberal about gay people, and in any case, other people on the beach and out in the water seemed absorbed enough with doing their own thing.
Mark tenderly stroked Anthony's face, and his wet hair, smiling so sweetly it took Anthony's breath away. Anthony rose and pulled Mark into a deep, fierce kiss. Their hard cocks bumped up against each other through their shorts under the water.
When the kiss broke they still held each other for a moment, clinging together, the waves rolling over their shoulders. "I love you," Anthony whispered, holding him tight.
Mark squeezed him and kissed his brow. "I love you."
"Ah!"
"Ohh!"
"Oooh!"
"Mmmm..."
The sound of balls smacking ass was deliciously lewd. The bed rocked against the wall, slamming it again and again, mattress creaking.
The room smelled like the salt of the sea air through the open window, and sweat, and the musk of arousal, and all the cum they'd already shot over and inside each other. Still they needed more. Mark's arms wrapped around Anthony tighter, kissing and nibbling his neck - Anthony was going to be covered in love bites, and unlike Cambridge, it didn't matter if people saw it here.
"Oh, fuck!"
They were both so close, looking into each other's eyes, panting, quivering, both needing to come, both needing to stay in this moment, their bodies joined in that perfect rhythm, stroking, pleasing. An act of worship, lost in each other's beauty, lost in their passion for each other, giving all they had, taking all they wanted, teasing and teasing, nothing else existing but their ecstasy.
They came together, not having to be quiet, holding nothing back.
"ANTHONY!"
"Mark!"
They kissed, trembling, and rubbed their noses together, sighing, breathing each other's breath.
Anthony was sunburned from a day at the beach wearing just his swim trunks. Amazingly, Mark was not, even though he was also fair-skinned, though not as pale as Anthony. Anthony wasn't just bright red all over his face and chest and back, he was also sore, and Mark insisted they spend the next couple of days avoiding the beach during the daytime.
Instead, Mark took them on a tour of Nice - making Anthony put on sunscreen first. They spent a day in the Old Town, which included going to an ice cream parlour for gelato. They did enough walking that Anthony was tired and they had a languid sixty-nine before bed instead of marathon fucking. The following day they went to museums and that evening they drank champagne in Mark's rooftop hot tub. After they got out of the tub, Mark rubbed aloe vera over Anthony's sunburn. The tender, caring touch made Anthony randy, and they made slow, sensual love all night, until the morning.
They slept in till the afternoon, and now they returned to the beach with Anthony promising to keep his shirt on and use sunscreen. Once again, Mark played those sad, haunting songs on the harp, and Anthony had to come out of the water and drag Mark away. As they got closer to the water, Mark picked Anthony up and started carrying him - Anthony was impressed with how strong Mark was.
When they waded out together, Anthony climbed up on Mark, and rode piggyback on his shoulders, as if he were much smaller than six-two. Mark laughed happily, moving back and forth in the water with Anthony on his shoulders. Anthony hugged Mark's neck and looked out at the endless sea, sparkling in the sun, and felt so happy he could burst. He'd been so miserable for most of his life - bullied, alone, friendless - and he'd wanted to die... but he'd made it, and here was joy. Here was belonging.
Anthony felt like he'd come home. He felt like all the darkness in his soul had been chased away, and there was only light, no shadow. Only the sun.
Mark was laying face down, ass up, hands tied behind his back. Anthony knelt behind him, taking a hold of Mark's hips as he slammed away, reveling in that feeling of power, control, conquest. Mark's broken cries and the sound of their hips slapping together fueled Anthony's lust even hotter.
Mark started to rock his hips back at Anthony, matching his rhythm, fucking himself on Anthony's cock. Anthony reached around to take Mark's hard, precum-slick cock in his hand, stroking it. Mark grunted through grit teeth and moaned, "Harder... fuck me harder..."
Anthony gave in, pounding away, their hips smacking together even louder. Anthony worked Mark's cock faster, and his free hand grabbed a lock of Mark's hair, pulling roughly. Mark screamed and let out a shuddery gasp. "That's it, more..." Mark whined urgently, before a deeper growl. "More, more, fuck me just like that, more..."
Mark begging for more like that, so deep in surrender, drove Anthony mad with lust, driving into Mark as hard as he could... trying to fight his own release. He was so close, Mark's silken heat felt so good, and...
"More, more..."
"Oh god." Anthony bit his lip and groaned. "Oh, fuck..." He was shaking, feeling himself rush to that point of no return, desperately holding back...
And then Mark spilled over his hand, trembling with his own release. "Yes, yes! Oh! FUCK!"
Anthony heard himself cry out as he let go, spending and spending, so much that his seed flowed out of the corners of Mark's passage. When Mark was done contracting, Anthony untied Mark's wrists and sank down onto Mark's back with a deep, content sigh. Mark turned his face and they rubbed noses and kissed.
A few minutes later Mark whispered, "I want to go again."
"Oh, my god." Anthony laughed, delighted. "You're spoiling me."
Mark rolled out from under him, and pushed Anthony onto his back. Mark took both their cocks in his hand, stroking them back to life, Mark's free hand wandering over Anthony's body, kissing him deeply, hungrily. When they were both ready, Mark straddled Anthony's hips and sank down. They both moaned at that feeling of being fully joined again. Anthony's breath hitched as Mark began to bounce, riding him. The feel of Mark wrapped around him, working his cock just right, the sight of Mark's gorgeous body moving so gracefully, Mark hard for him...
"I never want to leave," Anthony heard himself say aloud, without thinking, running his hands over Mark's chest and stomach. "I want to stay here, with you."
Mark leaned down and laughed softly before giving Anthony a deep, wet kiss. "What about Cambridge?"
"OK, then we could get a place together." Anthony couldn't believe he was saying this aloud, so bold. He kissed Mark back. "We could do it any time we want. As much as we want..."
"Mmmmm." Mark grinned and kissed Anthony again. Mark sucked on his tongue, then their tongues licked together, making Anthony's cock stiffen even more inside Mark, pulsing with need. Mark's thumb began to rub Anthony's nipple, and Mark kissed and licked down Anthony's sensitive neck, over the shoulder, for his tongue to lash a few strokes at the hard, aching nub. "We would still fail our education. All we'd be studying is my body on your body..."
"Oh, god, fuck." Anthony shuddered.
Mark's voice got huskier as he went on. "The different ways we can fuck each other... make each other come..." He seized the nipple between his lips.
Anthony cried out, clutching at Mark's head.
Mark claimed his mouth again, and rose up, riding Anthony harder, faster. Anthony grabbed Mark's cock, his other hand caressing Mark's hip and thigh.
"I could do this with you all day and night." Mark shivered, and took Anthony's hand from where it rested on his thigh, to suck Anthony's fingers.
After a nap, they managed to get up in time for the sun to start setting. They walked to the beach together, and then hand-in-hand along the rocky shore, watching the sun blaze the sea in neon pinks and oranges and violets.
The tide rolled in and Anthony and Mark took off their shoes and went up to meet it. Anthony wiggled his toes, enjoying the feel of the waves rolling back and forth, washing over his feet. Even more than that, he enjoyed the sight of Mark's hair stirring in the breeze, the play of light and shadow over his handsome face.
Anthony realized he meant what he said when they were making love earlier. He really did want to get a place with Mark. His love and lust for Mark was so strong that if Mark was still feeling the urge to wander again, like he'd expressed a week ago... Anthony was willing to throw his schooling off to the wayside and follow Mark wherever he went.
I would follow you to the ends of the earth.
Anthony didn't say it aloud - not wanting to break the sacred moment where it was just them and the glowing sunset, the whisper of the waves. And he didn't know if Mark would be willing to let him come along on those journeys.
But when summer break started at the end of May, he resolved to see where they stood. To see if they could make this a serious, committed relationship, not just a fling. Anthony was only nineteen but he was sure this was what he wanted. His feelings for Mark pulled like the tides, burned like the sky.
chapter 10 | return to Learning To Fly | return to Other Tolkien Fic | return to index