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Ben’s eager boner, making him gasp.
    “I can’t...I...this isn’t right, I can’t spy on him.”
    Squeezing Ben’s cock, Wayne pumped it twice, nearly making Ben cry out. “I said, watch . That’s an order.”
    Arousal shot through Ben, making his ass clench, electric pleasure riding up his cock as Wayne took him in his mouth again, sucking him hard and fast. “Yes, sir,” Ben whispered, and looked through the window.
    His breath hitched. The pair had moved locations...and positions. Coyle had the blond bent over the back of a small sofa, hips thrusting as he drove himself into his ass. The blond boy’s mouth hung slack, his face a picture of ecstasy, eyes closed as he let the older man take him. With one hand, the professor’s fingers dug into the boy’s buttocks, the other placed firmly on his back, holding him in place while he pumped his cock in and out.
    Wayne’s rhythm on Ben’s own cock quickened, and he heard the sound of a zipper. He glanced down and saw Wayne unleash his own thick hard on, working himself with his other hand as he continued to service Ben. His mouth was hot and urgent, tongue gliding along Ben’s length, the sensation dizzying. Ben looked back through the window, his vision blurring, head spinning as tendrils of scalding pleasure coursed through him. He felt his release coming. Through the window, Dr. Coyle gripped the boy’s hips and slammed himself against his ass, letting out a loud, guttural cry.
    Coyle’s face twisted with orgasm, head thrown back as he pumped out his release.
    As he watched Dr. Coyle come, Ben exploded into the condom, Wayne’s lapping tongue bringing him over and prolonging the ecstasy. Wayne tightened his lips around Ben’s dick, surrounding him with velvet heat, milking the last of his seed. Ben’s legs buckled and he fell forward, his palms slapping hard against the cabana on either side of the window.
    The sound was too loud, and inside the cabana, Dr. Coyle looked up. Directly at the window. Directly at Ben.
    Ben jerked back, pushing Wayne off of him. “Shit!” he said, tugging his pants up. “Shit, shit, he saw me.”
    Wayne stood, zipping up his own pants, his lips slightly swollen. “The teacher?”
    “Yes,” Ben said, hopping as he yanked his pants over his hips. “Oh, shit, this is bad.”
    “Go!” Wayne pushed him toward the trees. “Hide, I’ll cover for you.”
    Ben stumbled for the tree line, his legs wobbling with drunkenness and post orgasmic numbness. When he reached the wooded crop, he dove, tumbling onto a patch of moss.
    “What the fuck do you think...” Dr. Coyle’s familiar voice drifted off in the night, and Ben scrambled back and peered out through the scrub of branches. Wayne gestured apologetically to Coyle, who stood with a towel wrapped around his waist, his body language hostile, arms curved at his sides.
    “Sorry man,” Wayne bellowed with feigned drunkenness, hands up in front of him. “I had too much to drink. Fell right into the wall. Sorry to disturb you.”
    Ben heard Coyle’s voice, but couldn’t make out the words. He sounded angry, but after more words from Wayne, his shoulders relaxed. Coyle glanced over at the tree line where Ben huddled. Ben gasped and moved back, deeper into the shadows.
    A few more words were exchanged, then Wayne walked away, moving off toward the hub of the party, away from the cabanas. Dr. Coyle stood in his towel, eyes scanning the darkness, hands on his hips. Ben held his breath, sinking further into the shadows. Finally, the professor turned and headed around the front of the cabana. Ben heard the door slam as he went back inside.
    He saw me. Ben lay back on the moist earth, staring up at the tree tops and glittering stars in the dark sky. Crap . His face had been practically pressed up against the window when Coyle looked up. There was eye contact. He prayed that the professor was drunk enough to forget. Drunk enough to believe it had been Wayne he’d seen.
    His gut