Date: Mon, 10 Jun 2002 00:09:11 EDT
From: Kevroc54321@aol.com
Subject: A BOY OUTDOORS, Part One

A BOY OUTDOORS
Part One

The usual stuff applies: if you are under 18, OR if reading / possessing /
having such a story as this in your possession is against the laws or
statutes in your area, then leave this site no, for it contains love and
sex between a man and a boy.  Otherwise, read on.  This story is fictional
in some ways, and non-fictional in other ways.

**************************************************

I suppose I'd read a few of the boylove stories on various sites about the
boy in the rain, on the side of a road, left as an orphan to survive in the
world as best he could, despite the overwhelming odds and elements pitted
against him.  But I never thought in my wildest dreams that it would happen
to me.  Oh yeah, of COURSE I hoped that it would, and sort of had all the
best aspects of all the stories seemingly rolled into one in my head, and
thought about it sometimes when I drove on long trips.

As I live in central California, driving is as much of an option as flying.
You know the drill, an hour or so on the highway to the airport, checkin,
flight, baggage, car rental, off to your destination, and it can sometimes
take longer than the driving stint.  So, I drove.

I've actually always loved driving in the rain, and enjoyed the sound of
the heavy raindrops on the roof of my car.  As long as I had good wipers
and brakes, some good music and some daylight left, I was happy as a clam.

I was on the highway behind San Jose called Heckers Pass, which was a
combination of winding roads, too many 18-wheelers, a two-lane road, and
often high cross-winds and nasty weather.  Still, I loved the driving, the
challenge, the elements.  I rounded a corner and was just about to speed up
when I noticed a bundle sorta propped up against a road sign on the right
side of the road.  As I passed I could see it was a younger boy, no hat or
umbrella, rain pouring off his light colored hair.  The odd part was he was
sorta staring out into space, not really hitching a ride.  He had his arms
around himself, a long dark-colored overcoat on, and was nearly white as a
ghost.

I quickly looked in my rear view mirror and had plenty of clearance, and
pulled off a couple hundred yards past the boy.  I reversed it back as far
as I could, then hopped out to see if I could (was my dream story coming
true?) help this young lad.  As I approached, his eyes made contact with me
but he was plainly too cold to turn much other than that to see who was
coming.  He was visibly shivering, and crying.

"Hi!" I half-yelled, "can I give you a ride?"

He turned a bit more toward me, and hesitated for what seemed like about a
month, and nodded.

"Ok, well, come one then, let's get you in the car and get the heck out of
this rain," I continued.

He nodded again, and began making medium-slow steps toward me and my
vehicle.  I didn't stop to consider whether I was being forward or not, but
I stepped toward the boy and placed an arm around him, huddled a bit close
to me and helped increase his speed toward my car.

I got us buckled in and on the road, heater turned up a bit, and turned the
music down.

"That's ok, you can leave it up if you like.  Don't turn it down on account
of me, it's ok," he spoke.

He was still bundled up and sopping wet, but his complexion was clear,
appeared to be a younger teenager, dark blue eyes, medium-to-light blonde
hair of evenly medium length, and perhaps about 13-15 years old.  And
crying.

"Hey, it's no big deal.  Why don't you get that big wet coat off and toss
it onto the floor in the back, and let's get the heater working on your
clothes a bit to dry them," I suggested.

He nodded, and off came the coat.  I reached back and found a towel I used
to wipe down the windows when they had dew in the mornings, and handed it
to him.

"Here, this is not the absolute cleanest, but it should take come of the
water off of your hair and face and stuff and get to on the way to being
warm," as I handed him the towel.

He immediately took it.  "Thanks."  He as still half-sobbing, but was
trying make like nothing was going on.

"I'm Michael," and I stuck my hand out toward him to shake his hand.

"Ian," he returned, as he took my hand and shook it.

"Pleased to meet you, although I can't say much for your choice of
climates," I joked, hoping he would laugh a bit.

He sorta sputter-laughed, which was just about as cute as you can get, but
hey, that's putting the cart before the horse here.

"You know, it's getting toward dinner, and I'd bet that if you've been
stuck out on this road for long you're probably slightly hungry.  So, how
about we drive a bit and let the heater warm us up, and then hit a
restaurant for some chow.  No worries, on me.  How's that sound?"

Ian looked at me with a slightly comical look on his face, and couldn't
seem to decide on what to say.  Again, I decided to save face, and suggest
the obvious.

"Ian, it's ok.  I would gather that if you're out on this road with no
baggage, you probably didn't pack your American Express card either.  I'd
love to help a bit, if you don't mind.  I would severely like the company,
and would like to treat us both to a warm dinner," and I gave him a big
smile.

He sputter-smiled back, but seemed to be doing better and coming out of it
a bit.

"I...", and the looked at me, sorta weighing my offer.  "Sure, ok, if you
want.  I could use a hot chocolate or coffee," he offered.

I smiled big in his direction, and said, "Thanks, Ian.  Way cool."

It was about 20 minutes until we reached a restaurant, and I pulled into
the parking lot and turned off the car.  I turned toward Ian, and he looked
over at me.

"Ok, obviously I don't know a lot about what's going on, and you are more
than welcomed to tell me or not, of course.  But I just wanna say that I am
... well ... interested in helping a bit.  I definitely am not looking to
leave you on the side of the road to freeze after a single meal, to be
sure.  But more than that, with all that probably went on to put you into
this situation in the first place, I'd be willing to be that you could use
a sympathetic ear.  Or two," I tried to joke, again.

Ian laughed more heartily this time, and wipe his eyes with the backs of
his hands.

"Thanks, I don't know why you're being so nice."

"Geeze, nice, well ok, I guess.  But I am not accustomed to leaving
freezing boys out on the most god-forsaken piece of road south of Canada,"
I joked and was serious at the same time.

He looked at me, a bit at a loss for what to say to bridge the gap, and so
I said

"Let's go eat, Ian.  We're both hungry."  I nodded.

And he nodded back.  Hey!  We were making progress!

We both ordered burger, fries, and a coke.  Classic, but filling.  Ian was
about done with his burger and was working on his fries, carefully dipping
each one in the catsup before chewing the fry.  We spoke about few things
during the meal up until this point, but if I didn't miss my guess, this
boy was, well......

"So, what's your story?" he started.

I laughed.  It was such a change of disposition, that it struck me funny.

"Well, I am self-employed, I sell computer software to manage a business's
finances, and work the area from Salinas to San Francisco.  I drive mostly,
eating great burgers, fries, and cokes, while taking in the great scenery
that our fine state has to offer."  I didn't make it too obvious that I was
including this blonde beauty in my assessment, but sort of left it to his
discretion to include himself or not in the statement.

Ian ever-so-slightly paused upon hearing the end of my statement, eyed me
not-too-deeply, and smiled.

"Well, that explains at least part of this," he chided, smiling very
slightly.

I decided to shortcut the good-natured, yet direct jibes.

"Ian, I am not here to take advantage of you.  It's not in my nature.  You
were soaked to the bone, shivering, and frankly a younger guy out on the
side of a bleak road in the middle of a horrendous downpour.  If I were in
your shoes, I would've hoped for someone to rescue me were I in that
situation.  And so," I did a mock bow, "here I am."

He laughed again, disarmed and not so serious.

"I know you didn't pick me up to 'take advantage' of me.  I wouldn't have
gotten in the car with you if I'd thought that was the case, Michael.  It's
just, well, so many cars passed me by...."

I decided to use some dual-definitioned words to see what reaction I got.

"I am just a complete sucker for a boy in trouble, that's all," I stated.
"There's no way someone like myself would leave a boy in need along the
side of that road in that rainstorm."

Ian drank his coke for a couple seconds, not appearing to visibly be
analyzing all the information in the last two sentences.

"I ran away," he said.  "Or more accurately, I was a throw-away.  My dad
told me to leave, and balled his fists up and all like he was going to hit
me, and so I left."

I sorta had that 'what caused that?' look on my face, so Ian continued.

"My dad caught...me and my best friend giving each other a hug.  His name
was Brad and he was moving away to Chicago forever.  His family was moving
because his dad had gotten a new job there.  It really fucked our lives
up."  Tears streamed down Ian's face at this point, but his composure was
outwardly fine.

"Brad had just told me how much he loved me.  He's straight and everything,
but we both loved each other a lot.  And I said 'I love you too, Brad' and
kissed him as my dad walked into my bedroom to tell Brad his dad was on the
phone."  Big tears.  "He never even fucking knocked, he just walked in.
And he went into this whole tirade about fucking queers and gay-assed
faggots and everything, and embarassed the shit out of Brad.  He pushed
Brad and I lost it and started yelling for him to get the hell out of my
bedroom, and he said it was his friggin' house, and for me to get my
queer-ass out NOW before he threw me out, and so I put on my coat and
left."

Ian just sat there sorta rigid, eyes squinched closed as tears streamed
down his face.  Not sobbing, just tensed as the tears flowed.  How many
times have we all been there.....

He grabbed a napkin and wiped his eyes, and looked up a second at me.

"Sorry, Michael, really.  I didn't mean to screw up your dinner," and he
started to get up.

I placed my hand on his shoulder, and said, "Ian, I would have considered
the dinner screwed up if you DIDN'T tell me what was up.  Thanks, thanks so
much for telling me.  Really."

He sat back down.

"Want another coke?" I asked, shifting the conversation and attention to
something else.

Ian nodded his head yes, and I flagged down a waitress to order another
soda.

"You know, you seem like a pretty nice guy.  Had your dad and you had
run-ins before that which sorta led up to the blow-up?" I asked.

"Yeah, pretty much.  He's just never really understood me, I guess."  Ian
paused, in thought.  "And maybe I never understood him too well, either."
He shrugged, not wanted to go any deeper than that.

I looked at this boy being pushed into being a man about 5 years too early,
and couldn't help but admire his courage and composure.  (Yeah, he was very
good looking too!  But not "erotically" so, just "calm".  I guess it was
because he never sorta of played on the fact that he was as good looking as
he actually was.  He just never made it the "trump card" he could have.)

"Do you mind that I ride with you for a few hours more?" Ian asked.

His question was a reality check.  What WAS Ian going to do?  Sure it was
OK if he rode with me for about 150 hours more.  But I couldn't just take
him with me for the rest of my life.

I looked up at him.

He was looking directly at me, wondering what kind of answer would fall out
of my mouth.

"I don't mind at all.  I'm not particularly tired, and could do with a bit
of a nice ride and conversation after eating, so if you want to come along,
that's fine with me," I answered.

"Cool," he said, "I'd like that.  I'd like that a lot."  He smiled at me,
and took a slurp of his coke.  He put the coke down, and said, "Ready?"
Big smile.

I couldn't help but smile back, and said, "Heck yeah!"  and we got up, I
paid the bill, and we left.

Within minutes of getting back on the road, we were chattering back and
forth like we'd known each other for years.  He talked about school, moto
cross, skateboarding, his friends, and Brad, and I talked about what I'd
done across my life, how I ended up with this job, this car, and we both
laughed a lot, it seemed.

The conversations wound down a bit, and Ian turned to me and fired the
inevitable question.

"So, what about girls?"

"What about them?" he continued.

"Girls are ok," I stated.

"Yeah, they're ok," he said, "but like, do you like to BE with them?"

"You mean like for company, or for...closer company?" I asked.

"Closer company?" he said.

"Um, no, that's not really where I'm at," I carefully began, "I..."

Ian started laughing, pretty hard.

"Did I say something funny?" I mused.

"WE are being funny," Ian roared.  "Look at us, we can't even ask each
other if the other guy is straight or gay."  He laughed harder.

"Would you care to go first?" I countered.

"Michael, you are obviously a boylover, bigtime.  Which I guess makes you
gay.  I've known I was gay for a long time, but never really "did it" with
anyone.  I guess I was sorta hoping Brad would like me enough to do it with
me, but I didn't push it and he never really got that's what I wanted."

"Did he know you were gay?" I asked.

"Yeah, I told him pretty early, like when I was 13," Ian answered.

"How old are you now, if you don't mind my asking?" I asked.

I am 16, well nearly 17.  I will be seventeen in about 2 months."

"Cool," I said.  "It's pretty hard to guess ages.  I would've maybe pegged
you for a year or so younger, but rain-drenched boys are even harder to
age-guess."

We both laughed, and things went quiet for awhile, each of us trying to
piece together how the new information dove-tailed into our lives, our
plans, this day, or even if it did.

At about 10pm or so Ian gave a big yawn, and you know how it goes, one
yawns and then the next person catches it and yawns too.  I yawned big.

We looked at each other and both burst out laughing.  It was great.  It
took a while for both of us to settle down.  Maybe we were think ahead, or
letting go of what was behind.  Or both.  But it didn't matter, and we had
a good time just laughing.

"Hey," I proposed, "it's getting late.  How about I put us both up at a
motel for the night, we catch a hot shower and some zzz's, and decide what
to do in the morning.  How does that sound?" I asked.

Ian paused ever-so-slightly, and said, "Sure, if you want.  I'm sorry, I
never really thought this running away thing out very far.  I don' t mean
to be a burden or anything..."

"Ian, you are GREAT company, I don't think I've laughed this many times in
one night in a LONG time, so don't sweat it at all.  Absolutely no
problem," I happily said.

"Are you s-u-r-e you're not just trying to get me into a secluded spot?" he
laughed, half-kidding, half-serious, and he mock-punched me in the
shoulder.

"I'm positive," I answered, and laughed way too hard.

Ian cracked up too, and we laughed for another 5 miles or so.

"Ian.  Yes, I am a boylover, bigtime.  AND you are killer good-looking,
intelligent, and about a hundred other things.  But I'm not about to put
myself over onto someone, at all.  Really, the offer is for a hot shower,
some zzz's, and then in the morning maybe we can take a fresh look at
things and see what you want to do."

I wanted so BADLY to lean over an give this boy a kiss.  He was
unbelievably attractive.  His summer-blonde-toned hair had dried out and
looked at though he had just stepped out of a stylist's shop, his eyes were
a piercing ocean blue, his facial features were sharp and defined but not
skinny, and he stood about 5' 8" or so, and weighed about 135-140 lbs.  He
was slightly muscular, but more in a swimmer's body-type than a
body-builder.

"What?" he said.

"What?" I said.

"You sorta went off there for a second," Ian smiled.

"I guess I must be tired.  Here, let's pull into this motel here.  It's as
good as any I guess," I said.

"Sounds fine to me," Ian agreed, "I am pretty pooped, too."

We pulled off, registered, and were sitting in the motel room chairs within
10 minutes.  We flipped for showers and Ian went first.  Yeah, yeah, I
couldn't wait to see his frame without clothes, but I was JUST as excited
about being in the same room with him.  He was SO cool!

The shower water quit and he came out of the bathroom with just a towel
around his waist.  My God!  He had a NICE gentle six-pack, defined chest,
and his legs and arms were NOT slender.  AND he had a very slight
treasure-trail diving down from his belly-button, southward...

"Your turn," he half-shouted, obviously to pull me out of my trance.  As I
went off ahead of him toward the bathroom, he snapped the towel at my butt
to hurry me along.  I realized about a half-second later that he must've
used HIS towel to do that and I turned around rapidly!  He was back to
nonchalantly toweling his body dry, no key parts showing.  Damn!

I would've definitely taken the "dog for a walk" in the shower but I was
way too tired.  I showered as quickly as I could, and slid into my bed.  I
didn't hear any snoring from Ian's bed, but no noise either.  I gave a very
soft "goodnight, Ian" just in case he was conscious.

I zonked out before I fully hit the pillow.

I dreamt of soft summer sunlight shining in a blonde boy's hair on the
beach, the sun behind his head and irradiating his silhouette.  I can make
out his full smile as he gazes at me, the wind rustling his beautiful hair,
the sun bronzing his lithe frame, his smile warming the depths of my heart
and soul.  His blue eyes dancing, alighting his face like a headlight,
looking straight at me and into my very soul.  I'm seated in a lounge
chair, and he throws his leg over me and sit onto my thighs, facing me.  It
is erotic beyond belief.  He places his soft yet strong teen hands onto the
front of my tight swimming trunks, further animating my pulsing member,
edging me ever closer to the orgasm I wanted, needed, longed for.  He rubs
up and down my stiffness, knowing he is taking where both he and I want me
to go.  He is also erect, distending the front of his speedo's.  I reach up
and lower the front of his shorts, springing into full view his vast
boyhood, longing for my touch, my embrace, my kisses, my engulfing of his
wanton penis into my mouth.  He stands, allowing me to lick and taste
his....

I groggily came to, aware that I was no longer sleeping alone.  Ian was
beside me, breathing softly in his light sleep, face down with a leg thrown
over my groin, my hard cock in direct contact with the upper inside of his
soft thigh.  I could feel his hard boyness against my hip, pulsing and
amply wet and sticky through both his underwear and mine.  He was still, in
his dream state, slightly pumping his spent cock against my hip.  He'd
obviously snuck into my bed for company and comfort, and had a major wet
dream all over the both of us.  Damn!  I wished I'd been awake for THAT
ONE!  My own cock was close to orgasm, as Ian's undulations had brought me
within seconds of spilling my own seed onto his thigh through my undies.  I
let myself give in to the moment, and with that I jettisoned squirt after
hot spurt of my cum into my shorts, through and onto Ian's soft boy thigh.
I am sure I at least grunted, and I for sure bucked hard when I came.

I looked over at his sleeping face, and it was the face of serenity itself.

Ian stirred slightly, and I didn't know whether to leave him where he was,
or try to carry him back to his bed.  I opted for the latter, and with much
effort managed to tuck him in.  I brushed the back of my hand against his
cheek, and kissed his forehead goodnight (it was probably about 2am).  The
boy was truly killer good looking.  Good body build, a very slight amount
of budding facial hair, slightly darker blonde hair under his arms and (yes
I peeked) very cool colored blonde hair around his boyhood.  The boy was
most definitely a wet dream looking for a place to happen.  Whew!

We both seemed to awake about the same time, and we hit the motel's diner
for a quick breakfast.  For both of us it was coffee, two eggs scrambled,
and whole wheat toast.  And we were off.

We talked most of the day, listened to music, talked about various things
in our lives, and how we came to be where we were today.  I stopped for two
appointments to see clients for about 45 apiece, and each time Ian was
happily smiling from the passenger's seat, waiting for my return.

We hit a convenience store for lunch (crackers, cheese, salami) and we
chatted happily across the day, neither of us broaching the subject of what
to do about Ian's plight or where he'd ultimately go.

We had finished a pretty nice long conversation about music and cool SciFi
books and movies, when Ian leaned over slightly and placed his head on my
shoulder and reached his arm across me to give me a hug.

"Thanks, really.  I don't think I've felt this relaxed in about a hundred
years," he confided.

"Me either, Ian.  You are fantastic company.  I mean it," and with that I
kissed the top of his head and we both laughed.

I was about 1/2 a day from home, so I suggested we hit a motel again, and
get some more good rest.  Ian instantly agreed.

We ate a quick dinner, hit the shower, and ended up sitting in front of the
motel TV for a movie.  We channel surfed, and ended up watching Titanic.
As far as I'm concerned, this movie is Leo at his best, and he's about as
edible as he'll ever get.  I couldn't help notice that Ian had a BIG boner
when Leo made it with his girlfriend in the antique car below decks on the
Titanic.

It was Ian who broke the ice.

"God, he is SO fucking hot!" Ian blurted out.

"Geeze!  I totally agree.  What is it about this guy that is so sexy?  He
just pulls off this part SO well," I followed.

Ian looked at me and I looked at Ian.  We both laughed hard.

By the time we finished the movie, it was nearly 11:30p, and we both
brushed our teeth and prepared to hit the sack for the night.

I said goodnight, and Ian came over and gave me a big hug.  "Thanks again,
Michael.  You've really become a good friend.  I feel like I've known you
forever."

"I hardly know what to say, Ian," I said.

"It's ok," he said, "I understand."  And with that he kissed me directly on
my chest in front of him.  I responded by kissing the top of his beautiful
head, taking in the intoxicating odor of the shampoo & the the boy smell.
We hugged and held each other for a long time.  I'm sure we both squinted
out a tear or two, and then we released each other.

"Bedtime," I said.

"Bedtime," he agreed.  He hesitated e-v-e-r so slightly on going to his own
bed, and I knew what he wanted.  It was was I wanted, too.  But, it had to
be his call, his decision, his own action.

I did my best to stay awake, thinking he may again come to my bed and lay
with me.  I thought about it, longed for it, wished that it was already
happening.

And of course I fell asleep anyway.

I awoke amidst swirling erotic dreams again, not letting on that I was
awake, and sure enough Ian was aside me, leg over my cock while he humped
my hip and drove himself toward orgasm.  He could feel my rock-hard cock
with his leg, and I tensed it further and groaned, thrusting my manhood
into his boy thigh.  He groaned, coming closer to his release.  He had
never made it with a guy, for real, and I guess I thought it was time.  No
more charades, no more sleeping inferences.  I reached down and grasped his
hard dick, and he opened his eyes fully and looked at me.

"It's ok," I whispered, "I want it too.  We both do.  Am I right?'

He nodded.

"Relax," I invited, "let me make you feel as you've never felt before."

"I'm already there," he wheezed, as I gently jacked him off.

I dove down under the covers, relishing what was about to be.  I slid his
underwear down and off, and he was trembling for real.  I hugged him for a
long time, letting him relax a bit, letting his tenseness go.  He never
went flaccid, just not as excited.  I kissed his stomach, and down one of
his sides, onto his thigh.  He bucked his body and arched up to meet my
lips.  I cupped his balls in my hand, fondling them gently, but not letting
my lips touch his boyhood, yet.  I reached under further and caressed his
butthole, and he groaned and moaned almost uncontrollably.  I kept
caressing his anus, and kissed everywhere.  Finally I kissed upward from
his knees, onto his balls and the underside of his dick, and licked upward
and onto the head.  He jammed his cock fully into my mouth, tensing, yet
not quite ready to cum.  But almost.  I let him get used to the feeling of
my engulfing him, and then slowly began to suck and go up and down.  He was
seconds away.

"Oh, FUCK Michael, oh FUCK!" he exclaimed.

I kept my pace, and then sped up all at once.

"OH!  OH!  OHHHHHHH!!!  I....UUUUGGGGHHHHH!  UGH!-UGH!-UGH!-UGH!" as he
slammed his boyseed into my mouth.

He had tears when I stopped, trying to laugh, trying to breathe, panting.

I laid my head sideways across his still-hard cock and groin, and rested
and let him rest.  He panted.

"It's ok, babe.  It's ok," I said softly.

"Holy shit, Michael.  Is it always like that?" Ian said, regaining some
composure.

"You can hope," I said.  Then I laughed.  "The key is causing as much
pleasure as possible just short passing out."

"Well, you passed that one, then," Ian panted.  "With flying colors."

"I'm glad," I said.

"And now for you," he said bravely.

"No no, it's ok," I said, "lie still and rest."

"But..."

"Sssshhhhh..." I cooed.  "Ssshhhh."

His breathing deepened, and he fell asleep beneath me, boyhood still slowly
returning to un-erect state, cum still dripping from him.

I crawled along side of him, and pulled the covers over us, drifting off to
sleep with my arm across him, my leg across him.

Dreams, sweet dreams...

I awoke amidst the night again, erect as a pole on my side, with Ian's back
to me.  He was rubbing his butt crack up and down so that he was jacking me
off well with his butt crack.  He reached back and held my cock still and
pushed back against me, forcing his anus to my cockhead.  I groaned, unable
to contain myself.

"How am I doing?" he asked, smiling over his shoulder at me.

"Oh, just fine," I understated.

Ian laughed, and said, "Well, once your dick is a little slippery, I can
think of somewhere it might want to go."

I grinned.  Ian grinned back.

"You sure?" I asked.  He nodded enthusiastically.  "Hell yes, please please
please!?" he pleaded.

Then he paused in thought, "Do you want to?"

I guess my look back at him gave him the answer.

I sucked on my index finger and got it sloppy wet, and lubed up Ian's
crack.  A few repeats and he was nice and wet outside.  I began the inside
part.  He giggled and then moaned when I slid one finger in.  He groaned
with two.  I worked it a bit, and slid three in, and he gasped, and then
arched his back and moaned very loud.

"That feels SO good.  I never knew..." Ian mused.

Ian flipped around and sucked my dick a bit, slobbering purposefully all
over it.  Ugh!

"Oh NO you don't," he said, and he flipped back around, thrusting his butt
hole onto my waiting cock.  He thrust back slowly, pushing my cock gently
in, rocking to and fro', getting the opening stretched for the task.  I put
my arm over him, and kissed the back of his head.

"Here you go, babe," and I pushed in slightly, breaching the anal muscle.
He gasped, but didn't pull away.  Ian thrust back slowly, pushing my penis
about half-way in, and with two more strokes he had all of me.

We began perfect timing, both of us groaning, grunting, and speaking nearly
in tongues.

I got Ian to move over onto his back, and began fucking him in earnest,
striking his "secret spot".

"Oh DAMN!  What is THAT?!" he exclaimed.

"Your key to unloading every drop of cum you've got, babe," I said, as I
thrust faster, deeper, with more resolve.  Ian timed every move, and I
could tell he was nearing the boiling point, and so was I.

My balls flopped against his ass, and Ian reached up and grabbed his dick
and stroked to speed it's inevitable explosion.  He ejaculated with huge
force, clamping his anus on my dick and causing my own sperm to firehose
it's way deep into his body.

"Michael?"

"Yeah?"  I answered.

"Wanna do it again?"

We both burst out laughing, as there was no way either of us could repeat
that performance in any short time frame.

"So, that's sex, huh?  That's fucking," Ian thought over the last several
minutes and hours.

"I suppose so," I again answered.

"I am glad it was with you, Michael.  Thanks," and he smiled so big, with a
touch of tears.

"Me too, Ian.  For real.  You're a real gem."  There were about a thousand
things I wanted to say.

We gave each other a big hug, and drifted off to sleep.

I didn't know where it was going to go from here, really, but half of me
didn't care, either.  I just told myself that somehow it would turn out
alright, that I'd be ok, Ian would be ok, and everything would work out.

************************************************************

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