After Rob returned from the laundry room with our clothes and the towels, he dumped them in the corner of the bedroom, removed his sweatpants and we got in bed together. It was nearly ten o'clock so it was dark outside. However, we didn't close the curtain over the window so there was enough light from the street lamps outside to clearly see one another; being on the second floor at the back of the apartment building no one outside could see us. The enormity and seriousness of what we had done earlier was sinking in on the both of us. Rob looked at me and said, "We need to talk about this."
"Yeah, we do, but I really do want to be married to you to the extent two queers can get married to one another. I know that legally we can't be married but I don't give a damn about that. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine."
"Me too. But Clayton, that's not exactly what I wanted to talk about."
"So what's bugging you?"
"Well," started Rob, "several things. First, there's the timing. I really don't think it would be a good idea to announce to the world, and particularly your parents, that we've made this commitment to one another. I mean, jeez, one day you come out to your parents and now what are you gonna do? Walk in the next day and say, 'Mom, Dad, meet my husband?' Clayton, I don't care how understanding they may be. You go springing this on your parents and they'll think you really are nuts."
"Yeah, you're right. But that's no big deal. We don't have to say anything for a while. Besides, Mom might like to have a wedding ceremony; she loves a good party. And Dad, oh god," I continued now laughing, "I can just see Dad standing up there in a tuxedo, father of one of the grooms, giving his son away in marriage to another man. He'd have a blast, being really serious and getting to embarrass the shit out of everyone in attendance."
"Clayton, you are fucking sick, you know that?"
"Yeah, but that's just another one of the many reasons you love me," I told Rob, kissing him on the cheek, making his annoyed look disappear into a smile. "What else is bugging you?"
"Something I've wanted to ask you for a long time."
"Well, what is it?"
"Clayton, I am the only guy you've ever had sex with, right?"
"Yes. And . . .?"
"Well, haven't you thought about a roll in the hay with other guys?"
"Well, yeah . . . but, uhhhhh . . . well, let me think this one out, okay?"
"Okay," agreed Rob, readjusting his arm around me as he and I sat up in bed.
I sat pondering for a moment and then started thinking out loud. "I know I used to jack off thinking about other guys all the time. You know, I'd browse through my porno collection on the computer, thinking about what I'd like to do with this or that guy's dick. I know there is this one picture of this little, blond, muscle hunk going down on this really good-looking, dark-haired guy with a fantastic chest. Half the time I'd wanna to be the blond guy, half the time I'd wanna be the guy getting sucked. I don't know how many loads I've shot over that one. And there are the guys at school, thinking about them being naked with a hard on, beating off in their rooms at night. But you know something, now that I think about it, when I jack off now, all I think about is you. Well, not just about you, but you're the main feature. I mean, I still like to look at dirty pictures or other guys and it gives me a hard on and gets me going, but when you get to the important part, what makes me squirt is thinking about you. I can't remember the last time I climaxed thinking of someone else. Every morning it's that way. I wake up wishing you were there with me and I start fucking my fist thinking it's you under me instead of a lousy pillow."
"You're serious aren't you? You mean you never think about anyone other than me?"
"Yeah. Well, no. I mean, yes, I do think of other guys, but now it's more of kinda like an admiration of how sexy the guy looks rather than a 'god, how I'd love to suck his dick' sort of thought. Yeah, other guys may give me a hard on but it's you who gives me a nut, every time. I don't want anybody else."
Rob sat thinking for a moment then looked at me. "Wanna cigarette?"
"Yeah." Okay, I also smoke in bed but not in the dangerous way when I'm sleepy, only when I'm fully awake. It's the same way as if I have a cigarette sitting in a chair, I just happen to be in bed.
Rob left the bedroom and returned with cigarettes, lighter and an ashtray, climbed back into bed, lit one and handed it to me, then one for him, then settled back into bed with the ashtray in his lap on top of the covers. "Wanna know something?"
"What?"
"I'm the same way about you."
"Really?" I sometimes wondered what Rob thought about other guys. When we were out together, if Rob saw a cute guy he'd point him out to me so I could admire the view. I have to admit the thought of Rob having sex with another guy pisses me off. He'd never said anything about anyone else, well, other than things about when he was really young and later while having to hustle, but that doesn't count. I'm talking about Rob as an adult going to bed with a guy because Rob wanted to, not had to in order to earn a living. Okay, shoot me. I confess. I'm jealous.
"Yeah," continued Rob. "And you wanna know something else?"
"What?"
"In a way, you're really the only guy I've ever been with, well, at least since I was fooling around as a kid before I had to leave home."
"Whaddya mean exactly?" I could tell this was going somewhere but I didn't have a clue where.
"Okay, when I was in junior high there were three of us who started sucking dick, one another that is. I didn't know at the time if the other two were gay or not but I knew I was. It started off with us jacking off together, sometimes just two of us, sometimes all three. I finally got up the nerve to do the old 'I'll suck your dick if you suck mine' deal and it went on from there. But that's all we did, just suck one another."
"Uhhhhh . . . ." I wanted to ask something but it was rather sensitive.
"What is it?" said Rob looking at me. "Go on, it's okay."
"That day in your garage, when your father came in. Was that one of them?"
"Yeah."
"But if all you guys did was suck, what about . . . ?" Oh, hell, Clayton, don't go there.
Rob looked at me; he knew what the end of my question was. He put out his cigarette and I followed with mine. Rob placed the ashtray on the nightstand and pulled me closer to him, took a deep breath and said, "My first time for the other was when those guys ganged up on me in the shelter."
"Oh, god, Rob," I moaned as I buried my face into his shoulder crying. The mental image of Rob being held down and raped was awful enough; for that to have been the way for him to first be entered sickened me. I had always assumed that Rob was fully experienced sexually before he had to hit the streets. This was terrible and I felt myself becoming physically sick. Rob held me closer to him, soothing me as a parent does a small child.
After I regained my composure, with Rob telling me everything was all right, he began to resume talking again but I cut him off, telling him that I did not want to hear any more about this. I couldn't stand to hear any more about him being so horribly treated.
Rob grabbed me, gently but firmly, and sternly said, looking me in eyes, "Clayton, I want you to know about this. It's not like you think. When I say you're the only one I've ever been with I mean that, even though it's in a pretty screwed up way. That whole time I was hustling I never, not ever, had sex with anyone just because I wanted to. I had no desire to be with someone else. I felt like a whore because that's what I was, and I hated it. The only times I ever enjoyed an orgasm even a little bit was when I jacked off by myself, but that was rare, maybe once every few months or so. The other times that I had climaxes was either because the customer wanted it and there was no way I could get away with faking it or I made myself ejaculate because I was getting a case of blue balls and wouldn't be able to function.
"Clayton, after I got out of that it was no big deal for me to go for a year to make sure I didn't have AIDS or anything. It took me months just to get to the point where I could just enjoy masturbating again, thinking about guys in a normal way. Well, maybe not normal, but normal for me, you know what I mean?"
"Yeah, I know." What Rob was telling me was making me feel better but at the same time also very sad. Rob reached over to the nightstand for a cigarette, silently gesturing to me to ask if I wanted one but I waved the offer away. After settling back down in bed he went on.
"Okay, so after I got off the streets, after a few months I started going to gay bars; the nice ones, that is, not the toilet bars where I'd been before. And I started meeting guys, nice ones. I guess that's how I was able to start jacking off again just for pleasure, thinking about those guys. I thought about having sex with them but I didn't. I was still a little bit afraid; what of, I wasn't really sure. Hell, it even embarrassed me when someone would try to initiate something with me, like someone rubbing my leg in a bar, or dancing really close, you know, a little too close. I'd get a hard on and wanted to go further, but something held me back. I don't know exactly what it was, but part of it was that I wanted more out of sex than just having sex. Another part was that I had been a hustler, whoring around with god only knows how many men; who would want someone who had been as trashy as that? Yeah, a few of those guys were really cute and willing, but I felt all they wanted was a one night flip in bed. I wanted more than just to be their unpaid prostitute for the night. And then you came along."
"Me? You mean you never had sex with any . . . I mean . . . you . . . Rob, are you saying I was the first?" I could not believe this. This was incredible. I was the first guy Rob was with.
"Clayton, the first day I saw you at work, I flipped. I had always heard about love at first sight and thought it was pretty stupid, but I learned that day that it does happen, and it happened to me in the worst way. You were so great to be around and were so damned good-looking. I thought about you constantly. Oh, god, there was that one day when you were helping unload a truck full of stuff going into storage at the warehouse. It was hotter than hell and you took off your shirt. I nearly died. Seeing you, half-naked, sweaty, muscles flexing, smiling, laughing, telling jokes while you were loading stuff onto dollies and carts. And your chest, that gorgeous, hairy chest of yours. I had to leave and go to the bathroom and jack off. I couldn't help it."
"You're kidding, you were in the bathroom beating off thinking about me?" This was wild. Rob. Mr. Self Control. Whacking off over me at work?
"You're damned right I did, and it didn't take long to do it either. God, how I wanted you. And on top of being the sexiest hunk on earth, you are so damned fucking nice. I wanted you so badly but figured I'd never have a chance. I thought you were straight."
What Rob was telling me was somewhat embarrassing me but I loved hearing every word of it. "Keep going."
"And then there was that day in the parking lot when you told me you thought you were gay and wanted to talk with me. Clayton, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven, knowing I might have a chance to be with you. I didn't know what to think other than invite you over. Driving home I kept telling myself 'don't fuck this up' and what do I do? You finally show up and I immediately lose complete control, kissing you the way I did. But when you started kissing me back I knew everything was all right, but I thought I was going to faint."
"Rob," I interrupted, "wanna know something?"
"What?"
"When I walked in, that kiss you gave me was the only thing that kept me from ripping your clothes off."
Rob started laughing, shaking his head, then leaned over and kissed me. He put out his cigarette then turned on his side and pulled me to him, putting my head on his chest, his chin on top of my head. "Clayton, I've wanted so many times to tell you that I was in love with you but I was afraid that if I did, it would scare you away. I was really afraid of telling you about my past, but I figured if anything was going to happen, really happen, you had to know. And so I finally got up the nerve to tell you all about being a hustler and it didn't matter to you, not in the least. But I was still afraid to tell you I loved you. I guess I was scared you wouldn't be in love with me and that I'd been reading you wrong.
"Oh, god, Clayton," whispered Rob to me as he held me tighter and kissed my cheek. "The first time I held you like this, I never felt so good in my life. You were, god this sounds faggy, but it's the truth; you were so damned sweet and pure. When you cuddled up to me on the couch it was perfect. You weren't acting or putting on a show; you were just you. I could tell you wanted more than just sex. I knew then you were the one and all I knew to do was give myself to you, so I did. You made me feel so wonderful that night. I could tell you wanted me, not just in a sexual way, but also in a very special way. And this is weird. When you didn't get off that night and I realized why you hadn't, that's when I knew for sure I was in love with you."
That first night we were together really began to make sense to me now, which made the memory even more special. Holding Rob, soaking him in, memories of our other times together began running through my head in super fast forward speed, sorta like having your "life flash before your eyes." My reverie was suddenly broken by one thought and I sat up in bed, looking at Rob. "This is pretty crude, but I gotta ask."
"Okay, ask."
"If you never enjoyed sex, how did you know about fucking? I mean, how did you know it could be like it is?"
"I didn't until I met you. I really hated getting fucked; it always hurt."
"Always? You mean you never got the least bit of pleasure out of it?"
"Nope, not never. Clayton, this is gross, but you wanna know what I used to do?"
"Uhhhhhh, I'm not sure I wanna know, but go ahead."
"As soon as I started hustling I knew that guys would want to fuck me and that I could charge a lot more for that than a blowjob. So I, uhmmm, practiced."
"You didn't." I was a little afraid of what was coming.
Rob just looked at me and nodded his head. I knew this was not going to be a pretty sight but I couldn't keep myself from starting to laugh. I waited for Rob to say something but he just looked at me with his lips pressed together and a little impish smirk on his face. Finally I just had to ask, "Okay, I'm not sure who started this one but you gotta finish and I don't wanna play twenty questions. How?"
Attempting to stifle his own laughter, Rob closed his eyes and finally said, "Cucumbers."
We both broke out in uncontrollable laughter. I'm surprised the next-door neighbors didn't start pounding on the wall to get us to shut up.
"You stuck a cucumber up your butt?" I finally managed to ask.
"Ohhhhh, not just 'a' cucumber a single time. I kinda did it a lot to try to keep myself stretched so the real thing wouldn't hurt so damned much."
The thought of Rob poking produce into his orifice was just too much for me. Yeah, it was gross but it was also funny. I had to get out of bed and walk around to keep my sides from hurting I was laughing so hard. "But you asked me to fuck you that first time. Why?"
"Clayton, I don't know why. For some out-of-the-blue reason I wanted you to fuck me, and the amazing thing was that it didn't hurt at all. It felt great, even with that big dick of yours. All I know is that I guess the trick to enjoying being fucked is to first want to be fucked. For all practical purposes, I was a virgin until you came along. You're the only person I have ever wanted to be fucked by. And, since we're having this kiss and tell everything session here, you, sir, should be aware that your butt is the only one I've ever gotten off in and that's only because it makes me feel good to make you feel good."
And who says frank, open discussions about sex aren't good for a relationship? Rob was indeed just like me, and just as queer.
"There's something else I want you to know." Rob's voice was back in a serious tone again as I climbed back into the bed next to him.
"What's that?"
"Do you remember that morning after the Halloween party when you came over in that damned kangaroo suit? That was the night I told you everything about my past."
"Yes. I remember that next morning vividly."
"Clayton, that was the first time I ever made love to anyone in my life. I mean, really made love, not just fucking."
I was right. Rob really had made love to me that morning. After a very long kiss, Rob and I got out of bed and we went arm in arm into the living room. Rob asked if I'd like something to drink and I felt I'd enjoy a glass of wine, so we went in the kitchen and got one, thereafter settling down again on the couch. After each taking a drink I asked, "Why the body trim?" motioning to my torso.
With a bit of hesitancy in his voice Rob replied, "You like it?"
"Whaddya think?" I fired back. "It's fantastic. I think I'll go out and buy a full-length mirror to put on my bedroom ceiling just so I can lay in bed and look at myself."
"Don't go getting vain on me, Stud Muffin."
"I'm not vain, you know that. Although what you've done might change that."
"So you do like it?"
"Yes, Monkey Fucker."
Rob took the wine glass out my hand and took a drink. After swallowing and smacking his lips he continued, "So, what part do you like best?"
Attempting to give Rob the evil eye I said, "You know."
In mock innocence Rob inquired, "No, I haven't a clue, tell me."
"Okay, asshole," I replied, snatching the wine glass out of Rob's hand, "my dick. Are you satisfied?" I promptly downed the remainder of the wine and got up to go to the kitchen to refill the glass. Returning to the living room, Rob was sitting there grinning. As I sat down he looked over at me and happily said, "I knew you'd like it. I know I do."
"Well, Einstein, if you knew it would be so damned great why didn't you do it before?"
"I was waiting for you to come out of the fucking closet. If the guys at school saw you in the locker room with a body trim, not being currently possessed with a regular girlfriend you could blame it on, they'd have known something was up. Clayton, for all your smarts you can be such a dummy about the most obvious things."
"Like what?"
"For one thing, the subject at hand: your looks. You are incredible. Haven't you ever noticed that when you're walking through a mall or even down the street that people look at you, and it's not just girls either?"
"No."
"I cannot believe that you are embarrassed by the way you look. Guys would kill to be half as handsome as you are. But I guess that's one of the reasons you are so appealing, you don't show off."
"Well," I reluctantly added, holding my head down, "I do like to take my shirt off."
"Good. You've finally admitted it. Now you've got even more reason to take it off. Dammit, Clayton, I'm proud of you and I want to show you off. And I want you to be proud of yourself, particularly what all is on the inside of you in addition to the fantastic outside packaging. Is that so bad?"
"You want to show me off?"
"Of course I do. I want the whole fucking world to know what I've got." Rob got up from the couch commanding me, "Stay there," and went into the bedroom. He returned with a flat, brown sack like you get at a department store, which he placed on the floor. Sitting back down on the couch he continued, "And your dick. Always thinking you were just normal. Well, take it from someone who has had way too much experience in the dick department; you ain't just a regular guy. Clayton, you are hung. The first time I went down on you I could hardly believe what you had down there, hidden away in that bush of yours."
Looking down at my crotch I snickered and confessed, "It is kinda big, isn't it?"
Picking up the sack and handing it to me, Rob said, "Good. You've finally admitted you got a big dick. I bought something else for you a while back. Now that you're out of the closet about yourself and us, this is for you."
I sat the wine glass down on the table, took the sack from Rob and opened it. I reached in and pulled out a white T-shirt. I unfolded it, read what was printed on the front in huge black letters and almost died of embarrassment: "I'm Not A Size Queen But My Boyfriend Is." I looked at Rob in horror and exclaimed, "I can't wear this!"
Rob picked the wine glass up from the table and settled back into the couch smugly saying, "Just wait, Donkey Boy, just wait. You are so cute when you blush."
I was blushing. I could feel it in my cheeks. Donkey Boy. Great. Now Rob has another rude nickname for me. I looked at him and replied, "You faggot." I stuffed the shirt back in the sack, tossed it on the floor and sat back on the couch attempting to look very hurt. It didn't work. Rob didn't say anything; he just put his arm around me and gave me a little peck on the cheek. We sat there quietly snuggling, sharing the glass of wine.
I started thinking about what all Rob had told me tonight and it made me feel really good, particularly knowing that for all practical purposes Rob had been a virgin until he met me.
After several minutes had passed I looked at Rob and remarked, "Boy, what a couple of lousy queers we make."
"Whaddya mean?"
"Rob, look at this picture. Two guys alone together, both confessed homosexuals, naked on a couch, snuggled together sharing a single glass of wine. They just got married to one another about an hour ago and neither one of them has a hard on."
"Hmmm. You're right. Shall we adjust that picture?"
"What do you have in mind?"
Rob grinned at me, took the wine glass from my hand and sat it on the table. With me sitting on the couch, Rob slid to the floor, grasped my knees to spread my legs apart and then positioned himself between them. Giving me a somewhat wicked grin, he reached around and picked up the wine glass. Dipping his finger into the wine he then let a small bit drip down from his finger onto my dick. The cold liquid made me wince a little bit. He then leaned forward and licked the wine drop from my cock. Looking back up at me, still grinning, he repeated the procedure. Rob then slowly lifted the wine glass to his lips and took a long drink, but didn't swallow. Placing the wine glass back on the table, seductively blinking his eyes and smiling, his cheeks slightly puffed from the wine he still held in his mouth, Rob leaned forward and sucked my semi-hard dick into his mouth. The cold sensation caused me to shrivel up a little, but this was soon replaced by the amazing feeling of Rob swirling wine around in his mouth, bathing my dick with his tongue. As the temperature of the wine increased and became warm, my cock started to grow again. Swishing wine over my erection for a bit, Rob looked up at me, his mouth filled with wine and my hard on, and then began swallowing. It was incredible.
Even more amazing though was the look that came into Rob's eyes as he continued to look at me.
Some time ago I read an article (on the Internet, where else) about fellatio. It seems human gay males are not the only animals on the planet who lick and suck one another's dicks. One male orally servicing another male has been observed in other mammals, but only in those who hang out in social groups or packs, such as wolves. Among younger males, it seems to be a form of play; having your penis licked is a pleasurable experience regardless of your species and young wolf pups have been observed laying around in a bunch, licking one another's dicks, sorta like a canine circle jerk. Among the adult males, however, dick licking is thought to have a social implication. Instead of an indiscriminate wolf orgy of fellatio as seen in pups, among adult males only the pack leader gets his prick licked by the others, presumably as a sign of submission or supplication to the dominant leader by the other males.
Well, that's the theory anyway.
I lost count a long time ago of the number of times I've sucked Rob or how many times he's gone down on me. I've had a variety of reasons for why I've done it at various times. Sometimes it was for my pleasure; I like the way it feels for him to be in my mouth. Sometimes I did it as a favor to him; he was horny, wanted to get off, so I helped him out as a friend. Sometimes it was intended as foreplay to get him aroused so we could engage in other sexual activities. And it was often a combination of these reasons. While we never talked about the reasons why we both enjoyed oral sex, I figured Rob enjoyed sucking me for the same reasons I enjoyed servicing him.
This time, however, it was different. The look in his eyes gave it away. Rob was being entirely and completely submissive to me. Tonight, at this moment, he wanted me to be his dominant male, which is exactly what I had wanted from Rob that first time we were together. That night when I first took Rob into my mouth, I felt a sensation of surrender, but not in a bad way. I was by my actions admitting that I wanted and needed another man. My greatest source of pleasure that first time was the relief I felt from the silent confession, to myself and another person, that I really was gay. I didn't just want a dick, I wanted a man, a whole man. It was something my soul needed.
Now, this night, a very special man was before me, conveying to me in an intimate but primal fashion his innermost needs. I realized that Rob needed me not as a husband, not as a lover, nor even as a friend. Tonight, Rob needed me as a man. And I wanted to give him what he needed. I wanted to mate with him, just like a wolf in the forest.
Standing up before him, I firmly took his head in my hands and stared down at him. The manner of his sucking changed; it became harder and more desperate; his eyes pleaded with me to give him primal satisfaction. Rob was surrendering to me. He wanted me to be his dominant male. Then a strange sensation came over me. It was more than extreme horniness and it was not just the mental satisfaction of knowing Rob wanted me and was surrendering to me. I wanted Rob now in a way I never had before. I wanted to be his dominant male. Tonight, at this moment, Rob wanted a man and I wanted to be the one.
Pulling him off my dick to his feet and into me, I savagely kissed him, my lips working against his, harshly fucking his mouth with my tongue. Rob began to go limp in my arms as a long moan of his desire for me filled my mouth. With me half carrying him in my arms, our mouths still coupled together, we awkwardly entered the bedroom and fell upon the bed, me atop him. I began to lick and bite his neck and chest as I reached into the nightstand to grab the lubricant we needed. I sat back on my haunches and pulled his legs apart and upward, resting his ankles on my shoulders. I quickly smeared lube on my hardened dick and placed a glob of it on the entrance to his hole. I looked at him, seeking his final assurance he was ready and indeed realized and wanted what I was about to give him. Again, the look in his eyes was all I needed.
Rising to my knees, Rob reached under and around himself to grab my cock while I grabbed his calves to roughly spread his legs back and fully apart. And then, in one single motion with Rob guiding my dick, I fiercely buried myself into him, forcing Rob to emit a loud grunt that confirmed he was indeed wanting and ready. Rob wanted a man and I was determined to give him one in the most primitive fashion possible. I began the frantic but determined process of mating with my partner.
The bedroom filled with the sounds of our groans as we rutted like two animals in heat. As I pounded my body into his, Rob grabbed me, digging his fingers into my pectoral muscles. The only discernable word coming from him was "yes" which he grunted out over and over again. As my frenzy increased so did his, thrusting his body forward to meet mine. There was nothing civilized left in either one of us; we were both filled to overflowing with raw, wild desire untainted by any hint of propriety. As we continued, our bodies became covered in sweat while saliva dripped from our mouths, formed into white foam by our heaving breath. This was not just a hard fuck we were having. We were pounding ourselves together, grabbing and clawing one another in a violent release of pure lust and passionate need.
I became enveloped in the urge to demonstrate my dominance as a male animal by furiously shoving my dick, the symbol of my masculinity, into the willing, submissive animal beneath me. Every muscle in my body joined together in unison to repeatedly pound myself into my partner as hard as I could. Rob's hands were all over me, grabbing and feeling my muscles at work. As he wildly writhed and thrashed about he began to plead to me for even more, groaning out, "Take me, oh god, Clayton, take me." I was filled with the determination to give Rob exactly what he wanted and needed and was not going to stop until he had all he could take. Rob wanted my big dick rammed up his ass, so ram him I did. I began to completely withdraw on each stroke and then slammed it back into him again and again with all the force I could muster.
The headboard
of the bed was banging against the wall and was distracting me, so I turned loose
of Rob's legs and dragged him off the bed onto the floor, turning him face down on
the carpet. Grabbing his legs and forcing them apart, I reentered him and resumed
rigorously pumping him with hard, fast, steady strokes. And then it dawned on me.
This was like running. Exactly the same, except that instead of my legs I was using
my dick. So I let The Rhythm take over. Instead of counting when my left foot hit
the ground, I counted every time my dick slammed home into Rob's butt. On the proper
accent count I really gave it to him, as hard as I could
ONE two three four
ONE two three four
ONE two THREE four
ONE TWO THREE FOUR
over and over
again. Ninety complete fuck strokes a minute, minute after minute. Rob's moans quickly
coordinated with the musical beat going through my brain, each accent fuck stroke
of mine forcing him to exhale a grunt of satisfaction. His indiscriminate writhing
ceased and was replaced with a steady series of full body contractions that caused
his butt to jerk slightly upward as my dick rammed into him. Rob's body was spread-eagled
beneath me jerking ninety times a minute to match my ninety inward thrusts a minute.
The minutes passed, one after another, our bodies moving and reacting together in one long, fluid series of motions, Rob taking everything I was giving to him. The harsh, animal sounds that had filled the room when we were on the bed were replaced by the sensual, primitive music of Rob's grunts and my exhalations of determined breath while I satisfied my mate.
After twenty minutes or so, estimating that I had pummeled Rob with some two thousand full and complete fuck strokes, I decided to finish him off. No word had been uttered by either of us since I had pulled him from the bed into the floor. Beginning with the next series of counts, on the accent count of the first count of four, I ordered Rob, "Come!" continued fucking out the second and third counts of four and then, on the fourth count of four, while slamming his butt harder on all four accents, I gradually speeded up The Rhythm. With the next series, again on the accent count of the first count of four, I spat out the order to Rob, "Come!" continued through the next two counts of four and speeded up my thrusts a little more on the fourth count of four.
This steady pattern of increasing speed and orders for Rob to completely surrender to me and climax continued as I lost all concept of exactly how rapidly my cock was moving in and out of him, realizing only that I can fuck faster than I can run. Rob's pattern of grunts changed into one long, moaning cry while the rhythmic jerking of his body ceased and his body contracted and held. The muscles in his butt suddenly clamped down on my dick refusing to allow me to withdraw; this interruption caused me to mentally reawaken fully and break The Rhythm. Rob's head flew backward as he sucked in a huge gulp of air; his body contraction ended, releasing my dick from its grip to allow me to continue pounding in and out of him, fucking the cum out of his body.
As Rob entered the throes of his orgasm, I mentally and physically concentrated all my efforts to complete this primal act, urging myself to fully release for my mate's satisfaction. For the first time that night, I began quickly fucking Rob for my satisfaction in order to climax. With the realization that my mate was writhing and ejaculating beneath me, it only took a moment for my desire to be met. When I felt the crucial time begin, I denied the urge to remain in him and quickly withdrew, rolling Rob onto his back and pushing myself forward, grabbing and masturbating my swollen dick in front of his face so I could spray him with my ejaculate in order to mark him with my scent. As my cum squirts sprayed his face, Rob's head moved forward, his mouth open and widened for me to deposit the remainder of my climax into him so that he could taste me. I collapsed on top of him rubbing my torso against his, smearing myself with his sweat and semen to mark myself with his scent, working my face into his, covering myself with my own cum which Rob greedily licked from me.
As our climaxes subsided I pulled the bedcovers and some pillows from the bed and used them to snugly wrap us together into a nest on the floor. I was on my side, leaning over Rob who had curled into a fetal position, my body covering his, my arms tightly holding him to me, symbolically protecting him as he pressed his face into my chest whimpering and softly crying. My grip on him relaxed and I began to soothe him with firm but gentle caresses of my face across his forehead. Remaining curled beneath me, accepting the protection I was offering him, Rob began to lick and gently bite my chest, momentarily sucking on my left nipple before pressing his cheek against me so he could feel my heartbeat. We remained like that for half an hour or more with me nurturing him and Rob unashamedly continuing to accept me with gentle licks, light sucks and soft whimpers of satisfaction.
I have no idea how long we would have remained like that, but another primal need came over me. I had to pee. All the Gatorade, milk and wine had gotten to me. So I released Rob from my hold and told him, in Forrest Gump fashion, "I gotta pee."
Rob broke out of his reverie, let out a snicker and told me, "Clayton, you are so romantic."
"Thank you, dear." And with those words I gave in to another primal urge I was suppressing and farted. We're talking a very loud, incredibly smelly, world class fart, not some wimpy little thing. This vulgar conclusion to our oddly passionate episode sent Rob and me both into convulsions of laughter as I began fanning the bedclothes while he whacked me with a pillow. Not being able to comfortably breathe, Rob scrambled to his feet to retreat to the far regions of his apartment while I rose and strutted into the bathroom to take a leak.
True love can be such a wonderful thing.
After flushing the emptied contents of my bladder down the toilet I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. I was a mess. It seems that really good sex is always wet and sloppy, but I guess that's just part of the magic. Flipping off the bathroom light I went to find Rob, which wasn't all that difficult in a one-bedroom apartment. He was in the kitchen, as messed up and sloppy as I was, eating out of the fridge, drinking milk out of the carton. I walked over beside him and he handed me a piece of cheese that I gladly accepted. We continued to stand there grazing on the remnants of my earlier supper for a few minutes then retired to the living room, each with a glass of milk, with Rob taking a slight detour back to the bedroom to pick up cigarettes before joining me on the couch.
After we had each fired up Rob asked in all sincerity, "Hey, Clayton, will you do me a favor?"
"What?"
"Go in the bedroom and see if you can find my butt."
"Huh?"
"My butt. You know, the round thing you fucked off of me a little while ago. It's probably laying over in the corner still quivering."
"Oh." I began to feel guilty about what I had done. Calling what I had instigated "hard sex" would be an understatement, like calling the Titanic a "boat." With a lot of apprehension I asked, "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Rob turned his head to look at me in silence. After a very long moment he said in disbelief, "A moron. I'm married to a moron."
Oh, shit. Here it comes. Our first fight. All I could think to say was, "I'm sorry."
"Clayton, you fucking imbecile, how can you be so stupid? It was fantastic you big dummy. If that's the way you consummate a marriage, I can hardly wait for our anniversary to get here."
"So you liked it?" I asked, my guilt having been replaced with a cheery feeling.
Rob closed his eyes and slowly shook his head from side to side saying, "Clayton, you give me a power fuck that belongs in the Guinness Book of World Records and all you can say is, 'So you liked it?'"
"Well, I just thought that was what you wanted. I don't know why. I just felt you needed me that way so I went with it." Hmmmm. Power fuck. That's not such a bad name for what I had done. Rob had wanted to feel the power of a man and that's what he got.
Rob sat his milk glass down on the table, took mine from me and placed it next to his, put his arms around me in a tight hug telling me, "Clayton, you are scary, really scary. It's amazing. One minute you're like a little boy swiping cookies out of the cookie jar, the next minute you are this powerful hunk of a man just reeking of sexuality, fucking me into oblivion like it was an Olympic event. I don't know how you do it. Whatever it is I want from you, you instinctively know what to give me and when. It sometimes seems like you know what I need before I even realize it. Whatever you do, don't leave me, don't ever leave me."
After kissing me on the cheek, Rob sat back into the couch and I put my arm around him telling him, "I guess we really are married, aren't we?"
"Yeah, I guess we really are."
We sat in silence again and I let it sink in on me how much I loved Rob. As I downed a slug of milk a question occurred to me. "Rob, I gotta question about this queer marriage thing."
"Okay, shoot."
"With straight couples, you got a husband and a wife, but with us, we're both husbands, right?"
"Yeah, I guess you can say that."
"So we're really like equal partners, I mean, there's none of that man of the house stuff is there?"
"With you and me, I don't think there will be. What's worrying you?"
"Well, it's what all happened tonight. I guess you could call it a dominance thing. With the shower deal and you feeding me, you were the dominant one and I really enjoyed being submissive. Later on, when we were in the bedroom, I felt you wanted me to be the dominant one so I let loose and power fucked you. And I liked that too."
Rob thought about this for a moment and then asked, "Are you worried about maybe getting caught up in some kind of forced role playing or something, like one of us becoming the dutiful wife while the other becomes master of the house?"
"Yeah, that's sorta it."
Rob thought some more. Finally he said, "I guess gay couples are like any other. I see some guys and yeah, one of them is the master, the other the slave, so to speak. But come to think of it, the guys out there who have been together for years aren't like that. They seem to be equal partners with neither ruling the other."
After thinking a moment I added, "You know, my parents are like that, the equal partners thing. Maybe that's why their marriage works. I sometimes feel in a minority at school not having divorced parents."
"Clayton, don't worry about it. Whatever happens, just promise me you'll always try to work with me and not against me, okay?"
"Okay. Wanna go take a shower and go to bed?"
"Sure, let's go."
We got up and went into the bathroom, Rob stopping by the bedroom to pick up the towels he had laundered earlier. Getting into the shower together we each took a bar of soap and lathered up all over, then stepped back out of the shower spray and began a joint body rub. It's a great way to get clean. You just rub your body all over the other, front to front, front to back, letting your hands wander and rub all over one another. As usual I got a hard on. Looking down at my dick Rob asked, "Clayton, does that thing ever go down?"
"I can't help it, but don't worry, I'm not horny, it just feels good showering with you. Turn around and let me do your back." Rob turned around to face the shower wall and I used a sponge to scrub him down, starting at his neck, across his shoulders, down his back, finally kneeling down to do his butt, legs and feet. Rob then rinsed off and we switched places and he repeated the process with me. After I had rinsed off and gotten my hair good and wet, I knelt down in front of him and took his dick in my mouth and he began to shampoo my hair. It's a lot of fun sucking on Rob's cock and playing with his balls while getting a shampoo. It's not like a blowjob where you move you head back and forth; you just hold it in your mouth and suck on it like a piece of candy. Rob's dick got a little bigger but not fully erect; his earlier orgasm had him done in for a while.
After a good, hard, head scrubbing from him, I again rinsed and we traded places. While I gave Rob's head a good scrubbing, he too sucked on me and fondled my balls but with a different little twist: he stuck his finger in my butt and massaged my prostate. I had thought about doing that as well for him but figured his butt might be too tender from the earlier events of the evening. His shampoo finished, Rob got up and rinsed his hair and then we did the final full rinse and splash on each other before turning off the water.
After shaking excess water off our heads and bodies, we stepped out of the shower and grabbed towels and dried off individually, other than making sure the other's back was dry. We brushed our hair and teeth then headed for the bedroom. With the bedcovers still lying in the floor from earlier, we first remade the bed, Rob on one side of the bed, me on the other, then climbed in and snuggled up together. We then started what I suppose you would call "pillow talk," each telling the other of his love, so on and so forth. It was truly nice. Too nice, in fact. I was as hard as a railroad spike.
"Rob?"
"Yes."
"Would it bother you if I jacked off?" Despite all that we had done together, one thing neither Rob nor I had ever done was merely masturbate in front of the other. We had done mutual masturbation, one doing the other at the same time, but never a solo job.
"No, if you need to. I'll give you a blowjob if you want; I don't think my ass can take any more tonight."
"No, that's okay, you've done enough. All I wanna do is get off so I can go to sleep and it'll be faster if I just do it myself."
"Okay, but I don't mind helping if you'd like."
"No, that's all right, but there's one thing."
"What's that?" asked Rob.
"Well, I kinda jack off in a weird way."
"How weird?"
"Well, not really weird, just sorta different. I lay on my stomach and fuck my hand."
"You said something earlier tonight about when you jacked off you wished it was me under you instead of a pillow and I kinda wondered about that."
"Well, since we're married you might as well find out. Got a towel?"
"Yeah, under the bed here, unless you want a fresh one; it's kinda used."
"No, that'll be great, an extra turn on using your cum towel."
Rob reached under his side of the bed and pulled out a towel and handed it to me. I rearranged my pillows, spread out the towel, then lubed up my dick, laid face down and got into position. Then I thought of something. "Will you kinda hold me, you know, lay next to me with your arm on me?"
"Sure." Rob scooted over next to me on my right side face down and placed his left arm on my back. "How's that?"
"Perfect. I can smell you. This won't take long." I began massaging myself and then recalled my favorite masturbation thoughts. "Uhhhh, will you kind of switch around, lay on your back so I can put myhead against your chest, please?"
"Whatever you want, just let me know." Rob rolled over on his back and snuggled back up against me using his right arm to cradle my head.
"Oh, yeah, that's absolutely perfect," I told him as I mashed my face into his chest.
"Hey, before you start, will you do something for me; you don't have to if you don't want to."
"What is it?" I asked.
"Tell me what you're thinking, you know, think out loud."
"Okay, I'll try." I settled into the pillow, my dick in my hand, and began the massaging and hip thrusting, letting the thoughts and sounds pour out of my mouth as they came rather than keeping them to myself. Rob didn't get a complete description of what was going through my mind; after I really got going my concentration blocked the words describing my thoughts from all coming out.
What Rob heard was, "God it is so nice being in bed with you. You're all naked and so sexy. Your chest is wonderful. The hair on it. Your nipples. Like that day you climbed out of the pool, all wet, shaking water off you. Your muscles. God I love looking at your chest and muscles. I just wanna bury my face in your chest. And your dick. Your hard dick, curved and sticking up. Smiling at me. Telling me you want me. Wanting to put that hard dick up in me. Oh, god. Damn my dick is hard. You are so beautiful. Laying on my back watching you fuck me. And your muscles. Smiling at me, wanting me. Feeling your dickhead swelling up. Oh, yeah, fuck me as hard as you want. C'mon, fuck me and cum. And fucking you the same way. With your head stretched back while I slam you. God, Rob. Yeah. C'mon and shoot. And. Yes. Oh, Rob, ahhh, ahhh, yes . . . uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."
After finishing my masturbation I just laid there and relaxed, snuggling into Rob, letting my breathing return to normal, then rolled over on my back and began wiping off my hand, crotch and stomach with the towel. I handed it back to Rob saying, "Thanks. Uhhh, let me run to the bathroom and wash real quick, okay?"
"Sure."
I went to the bathroom, washed my hands and used a washcloth to wipe off my genitals and stomach. Drying everything off with a hand towel, I returned to the bedroom and hopped back into bed, snuggling up against Rob again. "I hope I didn't embarrass or weird you out with that."
"No, Clayton. That was beautiful. A little different, perhaps, but absolutely beautiful. Do you always get off like that?"
"Yeah, pretty much so, I guess."
"That didn't take you two minutes and you shot a load not more than an hour ago." Rob's voice had a tone of disbelief in it.
"Well," I said somewhat apologetically, "I told you that you make me horny and you're the one who gives me a nut. I always get off really fast thinking of you."
"But you fucked me for twenty or thirty minutes solid before you came tonight. Were you holding back all that time?"
"Well, yeah, I always do."
"Always?"
"Yeah, all the time, unless you're in the mood for a quickie, but even then I still hold back a little so you'll enjoy it. It also makes it nicer for me."
"Clayton. That is incredible. I never had any idea." Rob pulled me to him kissed me on the cheek, then whispered in my ear, "God, how I love you." He kissed me again, then said, "Go to sleep now."
"Okay. Will you hold me?"
"Sure."
I kissed Rob good night and nestled down in his arms, my face lightly pressed into his chest and let sleep take over.
Hey Guys:
Thanks for letting me know you like the story. And, while you're at it, let some of the other authors on Nifty whose stories you enjoy hear from you as well, even if it's simply a "Hi. Liked your story very much. Thanks." little note. There are some really cool guys out there, and hearing from readers keeps guys writing.
As for other junk I've written, none of it can be classified as gay male erotica, so it doesn't really belong here on Nifty. But, if you're really bored, you can find it at www.geocities.com/lylester 2001 and also leave me a message there. Yeah, they don't let you post fun pictures and stuff on GeoCities, but the site was free.
Thanks,
Lyle