Date: Fri, 23 Mar 2001 23:20:21 EST
From: Joewilson583@aol.com
Subject: Chris Wake 3

The house was empty.  Janet was off with her lover.  Someone I was not
supposed to know about, but did.  A meeting in San Francisco, she wrote in
her note.  Perhaps it was.  Whatever, I was relieved.  Glad for her, glad
for me to be alone, to think.  All the logic I could muster told me to stop
this crazy scenario.  But there was an evilness about the boy that
exhilerated me, causing me to throw all caution away.  One moment I was
disgusted, the next, thrilled at the memory of his hot silky urine flowing
into my mouth.

I must see him again.  With trembling fingers I opened the telephone book.
Ah! There it was, Virginia Wake, 547 Parkman, 662-8727.  Incredibly, he
answered on the first ring.

My voice was weak, barely able to sound itself, "Chris?"

"I knew it would be you.  I've been waiting for your call," he said in a
quiet voice, and then he added, in a whisper so low that I hardly heard it,
"I'm so sorry.... Really.  I don't know what got into me....why I did
that....forgive me?"

"Yes Chris, I forgive you.  I don't know why...."

"I'll give you the back the money," he said.

"Ah Chris!  Forget the money."

We were both silent, not knowing what to say next.  Then he said something,
muttered it into the phone so low that I couldn't hear it.

"What?  What did you say, Chris?"  I asked.

"I want to see you.  Now, right now."

"Alright Chris, I'll be there as soon as it takes me."

The blood began its' course through my body surging into my cock and
nipples, sending lightning flashes down my spine.  I grabbed the keys and
ran to my car.

As I turned the corner on Parkman I could see him at the curb.  His lean,
bronzed body stood tall with head thrust back, proud and oblivious of the
world around him.  Except for a pair of short shorts that hugged his body,
concealing nothing, he was naked.  Oh God!  How beautiful he was, so
graceful and natural, like a Greek statue.

I pulled up to the curb and stopped the car in front of him.  Our eyes met
in a conspiratorial glance.  Two lovers ready for an assignation, caught in
the magnetism of compelling vibrations that drew us together.  He kissed
me, before God and everyone, unaware that passing cars honked and children,
playing on the street, stopped their game to watch us, nodding their heads
in understanding.

Once inside the house, the familiar, deep down chuckle, sounded.  "I'm so
sorry," he said simply, and he reached to my clothes to help me undress, to
make me naked before him once more.  He slipped his shorts over his hips
and pressed his swollen cock against mine in a lovers embrace.  His tongue
darted into my mouth as we kissed, swapping sweet saliva, one from the
other.  The contact of my hard cock rubbing into pubic hairs, the only hair
on his body, sent painful currents down my spine.

His hungry mouth left mine and began its journey over my still pissy body.
He laughed again when he tasted the remnants of his doing.  He chewed on my
nipples with an eagerness that told me he knew how much pleasure it was
giving me.  He slid his tongue down my cage over the hairy quivering
stomach to my cock.

"Oh Jesus God!  I want this so much," he said, as he knelt down on his
knees, and he swallowed the whole of it, his nose resting in the patch of
hair that encircled it.  I looked down at him.  Watching every movement of
his naked body.  I couldn't believe what he was doing to me.  His head
bobbed as he sucked, and the exquisite pleasure began to grow, and my cock
seemed to strengthen in its hardness, stretching itself our of its tight
skin.

But then he pulled away.  Sitting up, on his ankles, he began to laugh,
only this laughter was not the cynical, secret laugh of before.  it was the
laugh of a conquerors' victory.  I looked at him, languishing in the
perfection of his young body.  The gentle slope of his shoulders, the solid
pectorals that were only beginning to take shape, the trim lines of his
torso, gracefully curving down to tapered legs.  The nipples, like brown
chestnuts, erect and tender.  The dark hair that crowned his face, spread
over the ears and down his neck.  There could be nothing changed to make
him more appealing.  He was everything I could hope or ask for, and I loved
him, and knew at that moment that I could forgive him anything, give him
anything he asked for.

He leaned forward to kiss my swollen hard-on cock again, Licking his tongue
over hairy testicles, sliding it up the shaft to the tip where the foreskin
had rolled back.  He loved my cock as though it were the only thing in this
world he could love, his warm saliva spreading a pleasure that had never
before been felt.  Yes I loved him for what he was doing to me.  And I knew
he must love me too, to do it.

I willed not to climax, to let the incredible pleasure continue, sending
thrill rushes everywhere.  He must have sensed that I was about to lose
control for he pulled away, and stood up.  I was disappointed, but he took
my had in his and led me to the bedroom.

He lay down on his back, facing me.  Stretching his body, he place his hand
under his head, his elbows toward the ceiling, he exposed all his secret
parts to me.  The tuffs of hair that grew in the pits were wet and shining
with sweat.

Rising above him, I leaned forward to kiss his nipples.  Remembering the
pleasure his hungry lips gave to mine.  I began to chew and slobber and
suck on them.  First one, then the other, then back to the first.  I felt
his erect cock as it rubbed against my hairy stomach.  Ah! his cock!
That's what I wanted.  To see, to touch, to kiss his swollen cock.

I could smell the heat of passion gathering in his crotch, a mingle of piss
and shit and the pungent smell of sex escaping from this hidden part of
him.  I kissed it.  Timidly, at first.  My fingers touched the scrotum,
warm and moist, with just a thin scattering of fine silken hair.  I could
feel the two balls inside, slipping back and forth, responsive to my touch.
I lowered my mouth to them in an open kiss.  I wanted to taste them, to
acknowledge them, knowing that they concealed the sperm inside.  I licked
the smooth skin of the solid shaft and traced my tongue to the tip of it.
Swallowing it into my mouth, I sucked, like a baby at its mothers' teat.

He panted, groaning, crying for me to stop, and not to stop.  "Oh God,
man," he cried, "Oh Jesus God," and with a lurch, sending him halfway off
the mattress, his cum exploded spurt after spurt, down my throat scratching
the awakened pleasure-nerves at the back of it.  And for the first time,
the first time in forty five years, I felt fulfilled, completely and
finally satisfied.

Exhausted, I lay my head in the warm and aromatic valley of his crotch.
His cock was still hard despite his coming, and I could feel it roll
alongside my face.  My nose scratched into the bristly hair that surrounded
it.  The moment of great ecstacy had passed.  Of the many times lately,
that I imagined the coupling of one male to another, I did not expect
pleasure to fall to the cocksucker, but it did.

"My god," I thought, "I'm a cocksucker."  I turned my head to kiss the
throbbing muscle once more, but he slipped his hands under my arms and
pulled me up off my knees.  I lay beside him.  Our bodies, burning with the
heat of our love-making, touched one to the other.  He folded his arms
around my shoulders pulling me to him in a bear hug.  The low gurgling
chuckle sounded deep in his throat, and he kissed me and we relaxed in the
aftermath of consumated love.  We slept for a little while.

When I awakened, I heard the pinging of splashing water against the glass
shower door.  The sounds gradually called me to full wakefulness, and I
followed them into the steamy bathroom.  I could see his clouded image,
distorted by the drops that hugged the clear glass door.  I could hear his
deep throated chuckle as he saw me.

"Come in, come in," he cried, "I've been waiting for you." and he pushed
the door open.  His smile was as broad as his outstretched arms, which
welcomed me and pulled me inside under the warm water, surrounding me,
holding me close.  I loved the intimate feeling of belonging to him.  I
welcomed and returned his kisses, his caresses.  Yes, I belonged to him,
that is for sure, accepting and responding to whatever his wants and needs
might be.

His cock was dominant again, pushing out from his body like the branch of a
tree, and I slipped to my knees, the warm water cascading upon my head like
'the gentle rain from heaven' and I kissed the hard-on with open lips,
ready to taste his sperm, once more.

But he had other intentions.  His laugh was brittle and detached, as though
it were the result of some independent thought not related to our recently
accomplished intimacies.  Placing his hands in my pits, he pulled me up off
my knees so that I faced him.  He looked at me catching my eyes with his,
and holding them there.  "I've got to go, " he said, "I'm late now."  He
stepped out of the shower and I followed him.  I was disappointed.  not
only did I want his cock again, but he had not yet released mine.  I wanted
his warm mouth on my tool, sucking out the sperm trapped inside my balls.

"We're not finished, Chris.  It can't be three or four, Saturday afternoon.
Weren't we going to have dinner tonight?  Can't I stay with you?"

"I'm sorry," he said in an offhand manner, which contradicted our recent
love making, "But I got to go and get my grandmother."

"Your grandmother?"  I cried.  "You said she was in Washington.  "That's
why we're here.  We could be alone, you said, for the whole weekend....."

"Well I forgot.  I'm supposed to pick her up at the airport in less than an
hour."

I watched as he covered his naked body with jeans and T-shirt.  In moments
he was dressed.  My cock was hard.  He grabbed it, held it in his hands and
masturbated me until the cum ejaculated onto the tile floor of the
bathroom.

His laugh was brittle and uncaring.  "There, that'll hold you for a while,"
and he tossed my clothes to me.  "Hurry, I really got to go," and then he
turned to me, helping me button my shirt, his smile turned to tenderness,
and the enigmatic chuckle rumbled deep in his throat.  "You couldn't lend
me a few more dollars, could you?' he asked, "Fifty, maybe?"

"Sure," I said giving it to him, and he closed the door and was gone.  When
I got to the front porch of the house on Parkman, letting myself out, I saw
the Mercedes pull away from the curb.  He was sitting in the passenger seat
talking to the driver.

He didn't turn to wave good-bye.