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The first thing Ilya Rozanov did when Shane practically peed on his feet on the front lawn of their cottage, sweaty and chest heaving from his morning run, was Google juice recipes. His reasoning was simply that his husband needed hydration. After a pissy, sweaty, teary morning, Shane definitely needed the extra liquid.
Definitely more than usual.
And after five minutes of Googling fruits and vegetables that were natural diuretics, Ilya came to the conclusion that they needed to go shopping. Preferably to Shane’s favourite healthy gourmet foods store, Happy Mart Ontario, and buy the freshest, juiciest, most organic foods with the highest water content.
It had been a natural first step.
So, Ilya stood in the fruits and vegetables section of Happy Mart Ontario, having already occupied his husband with the largest size of fruit juice available from the little stall out the front, advertising detox and immunity juices. Shane was sucking on the end of a paper straw, watching dreamily as Ilya unravelled his long shopping list, the bottom half of the A4 sheet of paper curling up from where he had creased it when he stuffed it in his back pocket. Ilya squinted at his own handwriting, muttering to himself as he ran a hand through his curls,
Organic green tea (pre-brew and store in fridge)
Peaches
Watermelon and cucumber
Lemons
Parsley (with storks)
Pineapple
Green apples
Shane huffed as Ilya gradually worked his way through the shopping list, stopping every few aisles to make sure he had all the correct ingredients. Shane came to stand next to his husband, trying to subtly squirm on the spot as he leaned into Ilya’s touch,
“Can we go soon?” Shane asked, a tinge of anxiety touching his voice.
Ilya raised an eyebrow, a small smile starting on his face,
“Why is that malysh?”
Shane scowled, chewing vigorously on his straw,
“No reason.”
Ilya nodded slowly,
“Then we will not go soon. I still want to buy the ah- the old juicer. The one that is trending on Instagram.”
Shane groaned inwardly, looking around the stall for a toilet sign.
There didn’t seem to be any in the vicinity.
Shane sighed softly as he started to sweat, the fabric of his blue linen top darkening at the pits as he tried to focus on something else, something not about water or liquid or anything to do with pee. Shane watched as Ilya crouched down in the tea aisle, picking up various blends of green tea, trying to analyse the caffeine content and nutritional value on the back of the boxes. Under the harsh grocery store lights, Shane could see the tasteful outline of muscles on Ilya’s back, and the curve of his spine underneath his T-shirt. Shane closed his eyes as he felt his clit twitch in his grey boyshorts, cunt starting to slick up at the thought of his husband’s muscles, holding him down, picking him up and fucking him on his cock-
“Shane?”
Shane looked up quickly, trying to breathe through his nose as he felt the pressure in his bladder build. He eyed the bottom of the very large paper cup that Ilya had given him. There were some vegetable fibres mixed in with the remnants of ice cubes. The juice was gone. Shane tried not to whimper, suddenly unhelpfully supplied with an uncomfortable roil from his bladder, cunt starting to ache. Ilya waved a hand in front of his husband, frowning over the top of his sunglasses,
“Malysh?”
Shane blinked,
“Sorry, sorry,” he said, looking up to meet his husband’s eyes, “What did you say?”
Ilya chuckled softly,
“I said we are going now, yes?” he supplied, “We have everything we need.”
Shane nodded, relief coursing through him at the thought of finally being able to leave. It was only a twenty-minute drive home, and after that, he could pee as much as he wanted, wherever he wanted. Shane groaned softly as Ilya pushed their shopping cart toward the check-out, thoughts drifting to the different places in their house that he could relieve himself in. Taking a shuddering breath, Shane cupped his desperate cunt over his shorts, squeezing and squirming as he tried to starve off how badly he needed to pee.
If they went straight home after this, Shane could get out of the passenger seat and pull his panties and shorts down, and pee behind the bushes that lined their driveway, warm pee splurting out from between his sweaty, hairy pussy lips, pooling in the hard dirt below. If he could hold it for a little longer, he could run around the house to the urinal next to the sauna, and kick his panties off, splurts and splurts of steamy pee splattering against the porcelain back as fat tears slid down his face. There was something horribly humiliating about peeing outside, even if it was technically in a toilet. If Shane could make it to the front door, he would come face to face with that stupid pot plant that Ilya had bought, and the smooth, glistening side of the shiny white ceramic would definitely make Shane want to pee his panties, pulling them down to his knees he seats his ass over the smooth rim, clit catching on the cold edge as a thick stream of warm, yellow pee dampens the soil at the base of the pot plant-
Ilya scans the items, carefully weighing each bundle of fruit, waiting for the scale to sit perfectly at the correct balance. Scanning each box of green tea by hand, turning over the box at a snail’s pace to find the barcode.
Maybe if Shane can make it down the hall, he could use the guest bathroom, which was admittedly the most boring option. But Shane relished in the thought of running down the hallway, already tugging at the waistband of his shorts, pulling down his panties and sitting down heavily on the toilet, toes curling as hot pee splurted from between his fat lips, thighs splayed and toilet door wide open, waiting for Ilya to round the corner and find that Shane has left a little trail of droplets on the tiles, wiping them up with an affectionate wad of toilet paper.
Shane swallowed as he remembered that a new packet of puppy pads had just arrived, and that Ilya had spread some out next to the kitchen counter for Shane to use, just in case. Finally, Shane saw Ilya tap their credit card against the reader, sighing in relief at the little beep the machine let out as Ilya picked up three paper bags full of their groceries, deposited them in a little cart so Shane wouldn’t have to carry them. Shane followed his husband out through the sliding doors, stopping every few steps to subtly squeeze his thighs together, pussy slicking up as they headed toward the car.
.
By some crazy levels of wishful thinking, Shane managed to make it to their ensuite bathroom.
As Ilya parked their Jeep in the gravel driveway, he turned to look at Shane, who was bright red, chewing furiously on the end of his paper straw with a hand shoved down his pants, cupping his cunt over his panties. His fist was clenched, almost crushing the paper cup as he tried his best not to whine, panting softly in the humid air of the car. Ilya cut the engine and stepped down from the driver's seat, walking around to the trunk to unload the groceries,
“Shane?” he called, “We are home now.”
Shane huffed as he stumbled out of the passenger seat, thick thighs squeezed together as he dropped the paper cup onto the floor, pacing on the spot as he hurried up the steps, fumbling with the keys to the front door. Shane whimpered at the sight of the pot plant, stupid and huge and towering just behind the door, glinting in the afternoon light. Frustrated tears dampened his waterline as he finally managed to click the door open, kicking off his shoes in the hallway as he hurried up the stairs, pussy clenching as he threw the bathroom door open, already fumbling with the drawstrings on his shorts.
“Fuck,” Shane whimpered, “Gotta pee so bad, gotta take a leak-”
Shane groaned as he pulled down his shorts, a warm splurt of pee soaking into the crotch of his panties as the movement jostled his bladder, making him double over to clutch his desperate cunt. Shane sighed with relief as he sat down heavily on the porcelain toilet seat just in time for a stream of steamy, yellow pee to shoot out from between his thick lips, splurting all over the inside of the toilet bowl, trickling down the insides of his thighs as he sat back, messily relieving himself as he sobbed. Shane was faintly aware of Ilya’s footsteps in the kitchen and the sound of the fridge opening, closing his eyes in bliss as he leaned down to stroke his perky clit, closing his eyes to the sound of Ilya unboxing the juicer.
.
Ilya placed one of their older juicers on the counter, squinting his eyes at his phone screen as he scrolled on various juice recipes, looking for little keywords like ‘natural diuretic’ and ‘pee juice’, ‘fruits and vegetables to help you pee’. Eventually, he settled on a recipe from a university health website, spreading out the ingredients on the counter with the brand new juicer and a tall beer glass with a pattern of cherries and peaches (a tongue-in-cheek gift from Rose) and a thin glass straw.
1 cup of brewed and cooled green tea
Ilya pulled out the plastic pitcher from the fridge, making a note to brew another batch later.
A few slices of peach or apple
Ilya grabbed a few peaches and apples, popping them into the sink to wash.
3-4 fresh mint leaves
Ilya plucked a few sprouts from the herb garden on their kitchen counter, affectionately rolling his eyes as Shane came down the stairs in a plain baby pink T-shirt and butter yellow boyshorts, looking utterly blissed out as he sat down on one of the counter chairs opposite Ilya,
“It comes in handy, right?” Shane quipped, swinging his legs,
“What?”
“The herb garden.”
Ilya laughed,
“Yes is a very important part of the kitchen, thank you, Shane.”
Shane grinned,
“Did you make to the bathroom, malysh?”
Shane nodded a little breathlessly,
“Wet my panties a bit but s’ okay.”
Ilya nodded as he picked up his phone,
1 handful of fresh parsley.
He wrinkled his nose.
Exactly the sort of juice that his husband would like. So, of course, Ilya would make it. Whatever Shane wants, Shane gets. He reluctantly returned to the herb garden, grabbing a few sprigs of parsley and dropping them onto a wet paper towel to clean. Shane sighed softly as he watched Ilya work, meticulously cleaning and measuring each ingredient, muscles working and veins jumping as he juiced half of a lemon into the mixture, setting it to blend and drain. Shane rubbed his lower stomach, already feeling his bladder filling up again from the juice. He probably wouldn’t be desperate for another half an hour, and by then, he would have the added liquid from the juice. Ilya caught his eyes, watching Shane with a sort of careful wonder,
Is this okay?
Shane ducked his head and nodded, flushing as he felt his clitch twitch in his panties. It was more than okay. He had worried a little, pee splurting messily all over the grass, that Ilya wouldn’t like it, that he would think Shane was a little weird, a little gross and very, very needy, maybe too needy. Needy to the point of wanting to incorporate every aspect of their lives together, even something as personal and intimate as peeing in front of each other, which didn’t really make sense because Ilya had eaten Shane’s pussy during their first hookup and seen absolutely everything.
The juice came to a stop, and Ilya filled the glass with pebbled ice from the freezer, filling it to the brim with juice as he stirred it slowly with the straw. The sun was beating down outside, and they still had chores they needed to do. Shane took the glass, taking a little sip as he watched Ilya pack away the juicer, wiping down the bench with an antibacterial food-safe spray, scrubbing the chopping board with a sponge. Ilya smiled at Shane’s shy expression as he rounded the table, pressing a kiss to Shane’s temple,
“You will tell me when you, uhh, want to do things, yes?” Ilya murmured, “I will do the laundry, and I know you want to clean the pool so-”
Shane nodded,
“Mhm, thanks, Ilyusha, I’ll tell you.”
Ilya nods once before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Shane’s lips, inhaling Shane’s gasp as his lips parted, and Ilya could taste the citrusy sweet linger of peaches, apples, lemon and green tea on his tongue, mixed with the subtle notes of pawpaw from Shane’s lip balm. Shane moaned into his mouth, tangling his fingers in Ilya’s messy curls,
“I-,” Shane breathed, “Ilya-”
Ilya pulled back, shaking his head as a little smile spread across his face,
“We will wait, yes?” he said, chuckling into the crook of Shane’s neck, “I want to try this.”
.
Shane nodded, slightly irritated by Ilya’s abundance of self-control as he took his juice with him, going upstairs to change. If he was going to clean the pool, he was going to dress accordingly. Shane pulled on a soft white linen top and blue polka dot bikini shorts with a little white bow around the waistband, whimpering a little as the elastic dug into his bladder. Rose had taken him shopping a few weeks ago, after he had let it slip that he was getting interested in dressing in more feminine clothes. Little things here and there, like a silky drape or a pair of soft, lacy panties, maybe a shirt that was a bit more of a feminine cut. Rose had gone a little overboard. But after being thoroughly fucked and blissed out on various surfaces in the cottage, Shane couldn’t bring himself to hate her.
Shane walked out onto the deck, passing Ilya, who was headfirst in the washing machine, sorting laundry and folding things that had been left in the dryer. He started by turning on the pump, crouching by the side of the pool, ass sticking out from underneath his shirt as he tested the water pH, squinting to see the color over his plain black sunglasses. Rose had tried to convince him to get cat-eye glasses with a hot pink frame, but Shane had stayed firm. He had his limits. Shane sipped slowly on his juice, sliding the glass tip of the straw between his lips as he worked, feeling the warm satisfaction of liquid settling in his bladder, and the strange wanting that came with ignoring his bodily cues. By the time he was halfway through his glass of juice, the pebbled ice had melted at the bottom, and he had scooped all of the dead leaves out of the pool. Shane sat down for a moment, sliding his legs into the pool water, and slowly drinking from his glass.
This was usually the point of near desperation, where he would stand up and go to the bathroom. Ilya had suggested building a bathroom outside near the pool, next to the sauna, maybe, and he had set down a concrete base last summer. Shane took a deep breath, letting his thighs part as he sat back, considering whether to stand up and go inside, tell Ilya that he needed to pee. Ilya had moved on from laundry and was dutifully repotting a bunch of flowers and plants around the front of the house. Shane could see him working through the front window, grey tank top drenched in sweat, curls falling over his eyes, up to his elbows in dirt.
Shane looked down at his own outfit.
It was unmistakably feminine.
He felt his stomach lurch as he stood up, suddenly feeling horribly awkward.
Like a bimbo housewife, who did nothing but sit by the pool all day.
Shane sat back slowly, watching the muscles of Ilya’s back work as he parted his thighs, slipping a finger under the waistband of his bikini. His thighs twitched, and his toes curled as he slowly jerked his clit, cunt drooling as he tried to quell how desperate he really was. He moaned softly, arching his back as he shuddered, finally bringing himself to stand up, clutching his desperate cunt between two hands until he managed to stumble down the stairs next to the pool, his right hand catching on Ilya’s sweaty shoulder,
“Ilya,” he panted, tears stinging his eyelids, “Gotta pee-”
Ilya turned around, a slow smile spreading across his face. He pulled off his gardening gloves and pushed his sweaty curls off his forehead, standing up so abruptly that he almost stumbled over, hands catching for purchase on Shane’s hips,
“Yes, moy zaychik, we will go inside immediately.”
Shane felt dizzy, and Ilya picked him effortlessly, crowding him back against the kitchen table as they stumbled around, Ilya’s mouth catching on everywhere it possibly could, saliva smearing across Shane’s nipples as he pushed the bikini strap off Shane’s left shoulder, panting hotly into the tan expanse of Shane’s skin. Shane groaned as Ilya reached around, pressing down gently on his bladder as he trailed his fingers down, reaching into his bikini bottoms, two fingers sliding down to part his thick pussy lips. They were sodden with slick, cilt perking up under Ilya’s touch. Shane arched against his husband, sighing as Ilya mouthed at the length of his neck, momentarily forgetting how desperate he was to pee. Ilya’s fingers on his clit, his fingers tapping against the rim of his puffy hole were enough to keep him distracted, eagerly distracted, until Ilya was pulling the bikini bottoms down his thighs and all of sudden, Shane was reminded of the number of times he had caught himself on the last stretch of a run, stumbling into the backyard of their cottage with his pants around his ankles and the moment his panties came down-
Shane gasped as a hot splurt of pee squirted from between his plump, hairy pussy lips, hiccuping in surprise as Ilya stepped back, panting,
“Fuck, Shane,” he groaned, watching as Shane’s toes curled, legs still in the air from Ilya holding them up, a hot stream of pee continuing to splurt messily onto the kitchen table,
Shane sobbed, thighs quaking as he let them part, groaning as his clit twitched violently,
“M’ sorry, m’ sorry-” he panted breathlessly, “Didn’t mean to pee- just couldn’t hold it-”
Ilya watched, lips parted as Shane made an effort to hold it, sitting up on the kitchen table and clutching his desperate cunt with both hands, whimpering as steamy pee squirted out from between his fingers,
“Hngg, no-” he whined, “Wanted to hold it-”
Ilya watched as light yellow pee pooled under Shane’s ass, hissing as he frantically jerked his cock at the sight of his husband, completely dishevelled, bikini bottoms around his ankles, clutching his pussy as he sobbed, tits bunched up together, and bikini top falling off his shoulders. Ilya shuddered as he finally got a hand on Shane’s pussy, stroking his clit in twitchy, staccato circles in time with his cock, shuddering as Shane wailed, arching into his touch,
“M’ cumming-” Shane groaned, “I’m gonna cum-”
Ilya grunted as he came in thick ropes onto his fist, watching as Shane squirted messily onto the table, chest heaving as delicate little splurts of pee shot out from his hole. Ilya cooed as Shane’s stream finally came to a stop, gently kissing his forehead,
“Did so well, moy lyubimmy,” he murmured, gently kissing Shane’s cheek, “We will make you more juice for after dinner, yes?”
.
Shane woke up with a shuddering breath, sitting up as he tried to orient himself. He was tangled in the bedsheets in the main bedroom in the cottage. It was barely six am in the morning, and he was already desperate to pee.
Last night had been something.
After the failed attempt of piss play in the morning, Ilya had made Shane another glass of juice without complaint, chuckling to himself as Shane waddled around the longue room, huffing to himself as he wiped down the kitchen table with an entire antibacterial wipes and two bottles of cleaning spray, asking Ilya if they should ‘burn it’.
Ilya had laughed,
“Malysh, I do not think that is necessary.”
“Ilya,” Shane had protested, “This is why we shouldn’t eat dinner at other people’s houses.”
“Is not everyone’s husband that is a pisslut like you, yes?” Ilya said, wrapping an arm around Shane’s waist, “Is just you. We are only eating at this table.”
Shane whimpered at the memory as he sat up, hastily cupping his bare cunt with both hands. He had managed to go through all of his clean panties for the next two days. Ilya had only just washed them. He had gone to the bathroom right before bed last night, obediently holding his pee during their evening walk around the lake, resisting the desperate urge to squat on the side of the concrete path to pee.
“Ilya,” Shane whined, “M’ really desperate, really wanna pee-”
Ilya let out an exasperated sound of disappointment,
“You peed right before we left the house, malysh.”
“I know,” Shane huffed, “I had a lot of the juice you made at dinner- I need to go again.”
Ilya shook his head,
“We are going to finish our walk, yes?” he said, “You can hold it for five minutes.”
Shane whimpered,
“I can’t- wanna pee so bad. Gotta take a leak so bad-”
They walked in near silence for the next few minutes, until Shane was doubling over, squeezing his thick thighs together in his tiny red running shorts as he cupped his desperate cunt, pussy drooling at the thought of wetting himself,
“Wanna pee so bad,” he whined, “M’ gonna pee, gonna pee- wanna squat so bad- m’ gonna pee, have to pee-”
Ilya rolled his eyes,
“What are you going to do, Shane? Mhm?” he mocked, “You cannot wait two more minutes to pee in the toilet, so you are going to pee here? On the side of the path?”
Shane hiccuped, a sob catching in his throat as he ground his cunt against his palm, moaning softly at the little relief it provided, fingers clenched desperately around his pussy,
“Have to take a leak so bad, m’ gonna pee in my panties-”
Ilya sighed,
“You do not even have the patience to take them off?”
Shane shook his head frantically,
“Wanna squat over there and pee- wanna pee, wanna pee m’ gonna pee-”
Ilya tutted,
“You will let out a little here, yes? Then you will use the toilet like a good boy at home.”
Shane groaned in relief as he tried to stumble over to the closest tree, fumbling with the drawstrings on his running shorts as he pulled them down, his firm ass jiggling with momentum as he squatted half on the path, panting wetly,
“M’ gonna pee-” he sobbed, asshole twitching, “Gotta pee so bad- m’ gonna take a leak-”
“Panties, Shane,” Ilya said firmly, “Pull them down too, yes?”
Shane sobbed wetly, lurching back onto his feet as he tried to tug his panties down, fingers catching on the tight waistband as he slid them over his fat ass and thick thighs. Ilya watched as the fabric was pulled down and Shane’s plump, hairy pussy lips parted, a warm jet of steamy pee splurting out and splattering all over the path,
Shane hiccuped,
“Hng! No- not yet-” he whined, “M’ leaking, s’ gonna come out- needtopeeneedtopeeneedotopee-”
Shane groaned in defeat as he fell into a squat, panties still caught around his thighs as he relieved himself, pee splurting messily between his sneakered feet,
Ilya chuckled,
“I should not let you wear panties when we are at the cottage if you are going to ruin all of them.”
Shane whimpered, pussy clenching and stream jumping when Ilya grabbed him by the hips and pulled his panties and shorts up in one go,
“You have peed enough, yes?” he said, “You will do the rest in the toilet when we are home.”
Shane nodded, whimpering as he crossed his legs, desperation already seeping in as he tried to jog toward the cottage, wet panties rubbing on the insides of his thighs,
“Please, let me pee here, Ilya,” he whined, “Gotta pee so bad-”
Ilya shook his head firmly,
“You just peed, Shane. You can pee in the toilet when we are home.”
Shane groaned.
“M’ not gonna make it,” he protested, “M’ gonna pee-”
In the last five minutes of the walk, Shane was practically running, clutching his desperate pussy between his hands and jogging up the steps, eyes dilating the thought of finally being able to pee. He had been desperate for the whole walk, and now all he wanted to do was to pee in their toilet at home. Ilya jiggled the key into the lock and Shane ran up the stairs, kicking off his running shoes as he rounded the corner to their bathroom, desperately stradding the toilet bowl through sobs as he pulled the ruined crotch of his panties to the side, gasping wetly as a steamy stream of warm yellow pee splurted out from between his thick, hairy pussy lips, squirting messily all over the seat and dribbling down his thighs,
“Gotta take a leak so bad-” Shane whined, thighs quaking, “M’ gonna pee- peeingpeeingpeeing-”
And so, Ilya had made Shane sleep in just a T-shirt as punishment. He wasn’t allowed to borrow any of Ilya’s boxers, and they were going to try a day without underwear to see if they could curb Shane’s desperation. Shane whimpered as cool air touched his cunt through his fingers, bladder roiling urgently as he tried to move off the bed. Shane sobbed wetly as he squeezed harder, trying to tell his desperate pussy that he wasn’t allowed to pee yet. The lack of panties made it feel like it was okay to let go, and Shane felt like he was mere seconds away from peeing the bed. Shane sobbed softly as Ilya stirred beside him,
“Good morning, malysh, are you okay?”
Shane whimpered,
“I have to pee really, really bad,” he whined, “M’ gonna pee-”
Ilya raised both eyebrows,
“Then go and take a leak, toilet is right there.”
Shane groaned, wriggling his hips,
“Can’t hold it m’ gonna pee-”
Shane let out a wet gasp as he momentarily loosened his grip on his cunt as his clit spasmed, a warm splurt of steamy piss hitting his palm,
“Hngg-” Shane whined, “M’ gonna pee the bed- my pussy is gonna pee-”
Ilya’s eyes widened, and Shane started to sob, hastily grabbing an empty mug cup from his bedside table,
“Hollander. Squat over this. Now.”
Shane shook his head furiously as he tried to sit up, gripping the headboard with one hand and his leaking cunt with the other,
“S’ gonna leak- m’ peeing-”
Ilya pushed apart Shane’s thighs and slid the mug cup right under his clit, watching, pupils dilated as the cold ceramic made contact with Shane’s warm cunt, the temperature change jostling his desperate bladder. Shane groaned as his hips twitched, cunt clenching as he tried to part his plump pussy lips, clit twitching as a steamy stream of yellow pee splurted out from his urethra, catching in the mug. Shane sobbed in relief, reaching down to touch his erect clit as he relieved himself, frothy pee rapidly filling the cup,
“Shane,” Ilya said, “Have to hold soon, yes? Or you will pee the bed.”
Shane whimpered, stroking his clit as he curled his toes,
“Can’t- can’t hold it-” he whined, “M’ peeing, m’ peeingpeeingpeeing-”
Ilya huffed and parted Shane’s sticky labia, smacking his hand away and delivering a firm spank over Shane’s dribbling pussy,
“You will hold, yes?”
Shane sobbed as he clenched his cunt,
“M’ desperate-” he whined, “Wanna pee-”
Ilya nodded, for once grateful that he had forgotten to take his tea mugs to the dishwasher for the past two nights,
“Hand and knees, yes?”
Shane fumbled around on the mattress, moaning as he let go of his cunt for one second to adjust is positioning and a stream of pee shot out from between his lips, soaking into the duvet cover,
“Hnggg-” Shane whined, “S’ leaking- m’ leaking-”
Ilya held the other mug between Shane’s parted thighs,
“You can pee now, yes?”
Shane gasped as he pulled his hand away,
“Peeingpeeingpeeing-”
Shane arching his back as instantly, a warm stream of steamy yellow pee splurted into the mug cup, filling his rapidly as he tried to hump the cold rim, rubbing his erect clit against the porcelain side,
“Ilya,” Shane whined, “M’ peeing-”
Ilya cooed, rubbing Shane’s back in slow motion as his stream finally started to taper off,
“So desperate that you cannot even make it to the toilet, hm?”
Shane nodded, face splotchy,
“Y-Yeah,” he snivelled, “Had to pee so bad-”
Ilya nodded, gently pressing a kiss to Shane's sweaty temple,
“We will go for our run, yes?”
Shane hiccuped as they got dressed in the bathroom, stealing looks at Ilya’s soft cock where it was resting against his thigh. Shane sighed softly as he pulled on a loose pair of running shorts and a light blue T-shirt, trying to relax as they tied their shoes on the deck.
Ilya was lathering sunscreen on his bare arms as he set a timer on his watch, smiling to himself as he watched Shane come down the steps, his eyes set in a serious little pout.
It was going to be a long morning.