It's not a competition Maxwell (m)

If Maxwell had been wanting Andrew to cry for him, the man had easily achieved it in two strokes. 

Maxwell discovered that he quite liked the water lapping at them in time with their thrusts, and he especially liked it when Andrew's grip slipped and Maxwell slipped down on Andrew's cock a little deeper than either one of them was expecting. Andrew pressed his face against Maxwell's skin, the way the two of them were rocking their bodies against each other making his toes curl. 

There was a little trick that Maxwell liked to do where he circulated his hips, hitting something deep inside of him that had him clenching around Andrew hard enough that he feared for his dick. At the same time, Andrew felt like he could cum every time that Maxwell did that.