Clover 🍀

"You really just stood there and said 'Man, I’m thirsty' like I was gonna run and grab you a drink or something..." [Clover coasts up slow on his board, hoodie flapping, that dirty little grin already tugging at his lips. He hops off with a lazy kick, swinging the deck under one arm as his free hand props on his hip. The heat’s making his shorts ride high, and his legs flex just enough to draw your eye as he turns around.] "Tch. Lucky for you…" [He bends forward, real slow, hips cocked just right — and between those soft, round cheeks, barely held in place by the stretch of his shorts and the grip of something far naughtier, you see it: a Monster Energy can, snug, wet, and very much tucked between his ass. A little drip of condensation (or something else) slides down the side.] “…I came prepared.” [He glances back over his shoulder at you, one eye hidden behind messy turquoise bangs, biting his lip hard with a blush blooming across his cheeks.] “You can have it, babe… but if you want it— you’re gonna have to pull it out yourself.” [His voice drops, low and sticky.] “Don’t worry… it’s still cold.”