Life with Joey: Deputy Cole

GAY MALE; 'LIFE WITH JOEY: Reunion #5: Deputy Cole' {Bud_83@hotmail.com}
(M^M) [ 5 | ? ]

Date: 8/3~4/2001

WARNING: This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is purely coincidencidental. Do not read this story if you are offended by man-to-man sex, abusive/offensive language. Do not read if you are underage or it is prohibited according to the laws governing the geographical location wherein you dwell. There is sex between males, this episode will focus on major domination. There are degrading language and situations. There is bondage. There is unsafe sex practiced, and it is not adviced to attempt this in real life. Stories are fun because there are no real ramifications . . . Life isn't as forgiving. All participants are consenting adults, even if they are fictitious. It seems that these factors will be present at all times, since those readers who respond keep asking for more (go figure it is the authoritarian section). Enjoy!

LIFE WITH JOEY

REUNION #5: Deputy Cole

Author's dedication to T.R.—BGHE, who knew?

WHAT WENT ON BEFORE . . . Cole's spasms ended and he shakingly released Moses from his grip. Cole dropped to his knees and then spread himself across his spent partner's body as their heaving chests slowly gained control and resumed normal breathing. Cole remained on top of Moses for a few more minutes, enjoying the feel of the hard flesh beneath him then got to his feet and pulled Moses up with him. Wordlessly he marched Moses over to where Finch was restrained. He turned Moses around, unlocked his cuffs and pushed him against Finch's body. Moses didn't say a word as his arms were pulled backward and locked again behind Finch's back. He could feel Finch's yet to be satisfied dick, hot between them, slicking up his lowerback and round ass cheeks.

Cole turned. His boots made a heavy thud as he walked across the barn to where I was tied. Moses and Finch were silently watching Cole's ass as he moved.

"I'll be needing this back," Cole said to me as he reached up and took his sopping jock from my mouth. "Joey."

Moses' eyes shot to my face and recognition slowly dawned there.

Cole kept his attention focused on me and began to untie me from the wall. "I saw you dance at the reunion. You were fucking hot. Got me wanting to fuck you."

I looked up into his dark eyes. I wasn't sure what to say to that. Up until about an hour ago, I would have said Cole was the straightest man on the planet. I never would have guessed this mountain of masculinity swings both ways. And, now, after seeing him in amazing, masterful action, he was standing in front of me telling me I had made him hot enough to want to fuck me. I sagged a bit when I was finally released to stand on my own. Cole stretched out his big hand, put it in the center of my chest and held me up against the wall.

Continuing to look me in the eyes, Cole went on, "Sure wish you had your costume on again so I could watch you take it off just for me. I'd fuck you like you've never been fucked before or will be again!"

What the fuck is it with these guys? I go to school with them five days a week for roughly 190 days a year for seven years and get nothing but ridicule and ostracism, now, ten fucking years later, suddenly, I'm the choice cut of the day! It's totally unreal! I don't know what I'd done in my former lives to deserve this karma, but it certainly took its own sweet time getting here!

"So, how 'bout it, Joey?" Cole commanded my attention, drew my eyes into contact with his, "You wanna dance for me?"

I was speechless.

"You don't have to say it, Joey. I can see it in your eyes . . . I can see how much you want to dance on my dick . . . how much you want me to fuck your brick-hard, gym-ass." Cole continued talking to me.

My mouth simply wouldn't work except to drool. Cole grinned at me and winked again. I turned to Jell-O™ inside.

"I can see you want me . . . you don't have to say anything . . . just nod, Joey. We'll work out the details once you show you want it . . . once you show you want me!"

I ignored the world around me. I was focusing on the deep voice; the heated smell of manly sweat; the matted, damp hair; the scent of spent, mingled ejaculate and saliva. The smells and heat and textures before me overwhelmed me. I nearly passed out from desire. My ass ached in lonely vacancy as much as my swollen cock and pent-up balls cried for release. Did I want Cole to fuck me? YES! But, in the back of my mind was the image of Finch grinning that damned grin at me. I froze deep in confusion.

"Joey, all you have to do is nod and I'll take you to the gates of heaven on the express elevator between my legs."

Fuck. His corny lines were breaking away at the ice in my head. The image of Finch's grin was replaced by Cole's grin. The image of Cole fucking me was scalding away any other thoughts. Finch had said he had permanant plans. Cole said he wanted me. Still, I couldn't bring myself to nod my head.

Cole scowled a little, and it hurt me to have made him mad. But, I just wasn't processing this very quickly at all. Fatigue in all its forms was claiming my mind and body. I continued to sag while he held me against the wall for a moment, then he let me drop! Well, I can tell you, that sure got the adrenaline pumping again!

Stunned, on my hands and knees at Cole's booted feet, I looked up. Starting with his shiny, black leather boots, I took in the sight as my eyes began their 6' 3" ascent to heaven on this human Colossus. The top of his boots end just below his calves. Round, firm, and cut with that sexy cleft, they mass, stretch, then coalesce back at his strong, thick, square knees. Whereupon the muscles go up like twin tree trunks to form his thighs. Cole's legs are covered in fine red-blond hair with a few "worn" places (the backs of his calves and his inner thighs are nearly shorn free of hair, I guess from the constant rubbing of his tight trousers.) His thick thighs mass out and then condense where they meet his body. There would be a slight, square opening below his crotch if it weren't for his golf ball sized testes. The left testicle is slightly larger than the right one and hangs lower as well—we all know what that means! (Cole's right handed.) Because his cock never really did go soft—it stayed in a half-hard state—I could see his balls dropping to hang lower after firing his humongous salvo of semen. I noticed the remnants of his nut-cracking load pearling on the head of his dick. Cole must have noticed my gaze because he throbbed his cock. I felt my head bob with the motion. "Damn!" I thought to myself, "his crotch sure gives new meaning to 'erector set.'" When Cole does a muscle-up, the entire orchestra changes tempo! Torn, I forced my eyes away from the sticky eye of his dick and moved my gaze upward, following the maestro's baton as it were. I drew in a deep breath when I reached his pubes. Red pubic hair has got to be the most exicting thing on the planet. I smile to myself everytime I think of the nicknames guys with red hair get—my favorite being firecrotch! And I'd be DAMNED if Cole didn't live up to that name in more ways than one! Every nuance of the name came to mind: firehose, burning hot, fireman, flaming desire . . . . I stopped there only long enough to breathe about fourty times SLOWLY then continued my visual journey up the mountain. I know you're wondering why I'd continue my journey to the peak when half way up would have sufficed, but you just don't understand. As impressive as Cole's cock is, it is only one facet of the incredible turn on he provides. His waist is slim and makes his chest seem all the more massive as it forms more of a T than a V. I followed his treasure trail in reverse. And, although I call it a treasure trail, there is no real trail to it unless you count the patterns the hair forms when it is pushed one way or matted with moisture of some kind. The hair fans out to cover his ripped abs and chest in all the right places. I can't adequately describe the sight to you, but I'll try. The hair on Cole's chest and torso follows the curves of his muscles. There is no "overspill"; it is only on his front, as if it had been planted to grow that way. The matted waves form little patterns; and it is only then that there is a noticable "trail", if you would call it that, which runs up the center of his torso and chest. His pecs are equally dusted in the red-gold forest. It grows densely, parting only to allow the pink of his pointed nipples to jut temptingly out. His gym work is obvious. His pecs are wide and full and hard. His shoulders are broad and strong with a prerequisite formation of freckles. They seemed sun-made, and sexy for that. Normally, this isn't all that attractive, but with some red heads, it can be. And for me, on Cole, it couldn't have been any sexier. His neck is thick, but not overly so. His jaw is square and fine. Shaved clean and smooth at the beginning of his shift, he has already begun to show stubble. His pink lips are neither thin nor thick, and the upper lip is covered slightly by his red-blond mustache. His nose is hooked and slightly thick at the bridge from being broken once in football. His eyes are deep-set and dark, commanding your attention and getting it. His forehead is wide and open, giving his face a full, hunky, masculine look. Finally, in my not-so-humble opinion, his crowning glory, his red hair is close-cropped. The sides are neatly trimmed close, to the point that you can see the sun-altered skin beneath. The top is slightly fuller, still red, but bleached blond by the sun. He couldn't be more tantalizing if he had whipped cream and a candle on top (well, maybe . . . *grin*). I allow my eyes to glide slowly down his handsome face to his neck and shoulders once more, my tour of the U.S.S. Cole nearly complete. I marvel at the curve his shoulders make as they bunch into powerful biceps, triceps, the whole package—thick with the "muscle vein" (you know what I'm talking about, the vein that runs down the front of the biceps.) I now understand why some guys refer to them as GUNS. On this destroyer of a body, they could be no less than what they are. His fierce arms knot and cord their way down to large hands. Currently these hands are bunched into fists, covered in leather gloves, one hand contains the sodden jockstrap which I had so recently been chewing on. My visual excursion complete, my eyes slowly made their way back to his face. The scowl deepened when he looked into my eyes.

"Fuck it! Open your mutherfucking mouth!"

There was no mistaking the authority behind the command. Cole is a man who is used to having people do exactly as he tells them and brooks no arguements. I opened my mouth. Cole made no move. I was there on my knees at Cole's feet, mouth open, and I was waiting.

Cole knew I would offer my obedience, but it did not appease him. He reached down to pull me up by my arm pits, then stopped. Instead, he straightened, turned, walked over to the cot, and sat upon it. He half-reclined, resting his head and shoulders against the wall and holding himself there on his elbows. He spread his legs. This left his ass and cock and balls exposed over the edge of the mattress.

"CRAWL!"

I had no choice but to crawl. Cole's voice has an edge to it. Even if I thought about it, "no" was not an option. I moved, but remembering his words to Moses, I went slowly. The scowl turned less sour and became merely stern. I wouldn't see the openess that had been there when he gave me a choice earlier. I had screwed that up. Now, it was clear that regardless of how I felt, Cole was going to get what he desired. We both knew what he wanted. We both knew he would call the shots. We both knew it was inevitable.

When my nose had barely entered the V made by his legs, Cole ordered me to move even slower. He told me to smell his flesh. He told me to lick the salt-sweat from his calves. Finally, he told me to place my nose beneath his swaying balls and sniff deeply. The aroma was unmistakably masculine. Again, I was ordered to bathe his body with my tongue. I licked gently at the flesh he commanded me to service. I began by slowly drawing my tongue across his lowest hanging testicle (the left one). I gently bounced it, playing paddle-ball. I cupped my tongue and cradled his right testicle until my lips brushed against the wrinkled scrotum, whereupon I gently placed a kiss. This elicited a satisfied grunt, nothing more.

"GET YOUR TONGUE IN THERE AND LICK MY BUTT!"

For the second time in the past twenty-four hours, I was being asked to place my tongue in the most unspeakable place on a human body. Yet, I was not being given any more an option now than I had been then. The two differences between the two incidents are that I am not being squatted upon and that I have experience at this, this time. Obediently, I pointed and jutted my tongue and delivered it against Cole's tight pucker without revoltion or hesitation. One thing I will take away from Finch's attack is that I no longer have an aversion to rim jobs. Cole would give me an order and I would snap-to and deliver. For every grunt of approval I received, I found I attempted to please him more. This sometimes caused me to become over- zealous and I would become too hurried in my adoration. When this happened, I would be made to stand and lie across Cole's lap. He would slap my ass hard. I received several slaps to the ass and it became red and hot and tingled. Each time I was struck, the head of my hard-on would be thrust against Cole's solid leg muscle. It was painful and erotic. After each connection with his thigh, my cock would leave a sticky pre-cum rope to hang, joining my dick to his leg. As the rocking force of each slap propelled my dick into Cole, the same motion also created a rolling effect on his cock. Trapped between his torso and my side, his penis would be massagingly lolled from side to side with every swing of Cole's masterful arm.

My punishment ended, I was permitted to return to my body-worship. For nearly twenty minutes, I gave Cole as tongue bath. I was only allowed the use of my lips and tongue until he determined I was ready to proceed. When the moment finally came, Cole was dripping clear lube-juice which slicked up his pole nicely and made it shine.

"ALRIGHT, GET YOUR MOUTH ON ME!"

I noted how his commands were brief and undeniable as I covered my teeth with my lips and began to slowly push them open against his sticky head. I decided this method of taking him into my mouth as opposed to a wide-open approach for the simple pleasure of giving a little slow torment back. It had the desired effect of forcing Cole, momentarily, to lose control and grunt out his surprise and pleasure.

"GHUHHHN! . . . SWEET JESUS!"

I continued to slowly force my lips over the "magic inch" below the head which I had managed to engulf.

"YOU SURE KNOW HOW TO SUCK!" Cole crooned. "DID THEY TEACH YOU THAT IN STRIPPER SCHOOL?"

I let his words roll off of me, concentrating as I was on taking as much of his cock as possible. I knew there would be no way I could take him all. I have a serious gag-reflex and so after about three inches slipped into my hot, sucking mouth, I began a slow retreat. I had taken more of him than I anticipated, yet it was oddly erotic feeling his large cock-head pushing at the opening of my throat. I continued with my slow withdrawl until I allowed his entire dick out of my mouth. Then, I repeated the process. Maddeningly slow, I got up a rhythm . . . .

"GHUHHHN! . . ." I took his dick into my mouth.

"YEAH! BUD . . . EAT THAT SLIMY FUCKER! . . . " I went as far as the back of my mouth.

On it went for about fifteen lunges. I was beginning to think he would cum soon. Cole's balls began to thicken and draw closer to his body. As I decended on my sixteenth mouth-stroke, Cole ordered, "GET DOWN ON IT! FURTHER!"

I panicked. I couldn't take him any further into my mouth without setting off my gagging. Of course, Cole didn't know this, nor did he care. He had told me what I would do. I made a feeble attempt to go further and choked. In one quick backward movement, like I had hit a high-tension coiled spring, I rebouned with a resounding, "RRRRUUUAAAAAAAAKKKK!"

Cole was on me like stink on skunk.

"GET BACK ON MY COCK AND TAKE IT LIKE THE POLE-SMOKING BITCH YOU ARE!"

I made my way back toward his cock. Before I could connect, Cole's hands grabbed on either side of my head. For a moment I feared the worst. He twisted my head upward and forced me to look at his mouth (I knew better than to look into his eyes because of his interaction with Moses earlier.)

"UH, UH! GET UP HERE AND TAKE YOUR PUNISHMENT!"

Obediently, I stood and leaned across his lap. Cole let loose on my ass, each word would be joined by a heavy slap which not only caused my ass-cheeks to burn, but my face to burn, as well, with shame.

"YOU . . . *SMACK* . . . WILL . . . * . . . NOT . . . * . . . GAG . . . * . . . ON . . . * . . . MY . . . * . . . COCK! . . . * . . . IS . . . * . . . THAT . . . * . . . UN- . . . * . . . DER- . . . * . . . STOOD? . . . * . . . * . . . * . . . * . . . * . . . * . . . * . . . * . . . *."

He was brutal. Each blow brought tears to my eyes as I received twenty strokes for my whipping. He pushed me forcefully back in to place. I began again. No more orders were issued. They were not necessary.

I tried to control my gagging as his dick-head neared my reflex point. It didn't work! Horrified, I heard the offending sound issue again, "RRRRUUUAAAAAAAAKKKK!"

Cole's rough hands siezed me again. And again, I received a punishment.

"*SMACK* . . . * . . . * . . . * . . . * . . . YOU . . . * . . . WILL . . . * . . . NOT . . . * . . . GAG . . . * . . . ON . . . * . . . MY . . . * . . . COCK! . . . * . . . IS . . . * . . . THAT . . . * . . . UN- . . . * . . . DER- . . . * . . . STOOD? . . . * . . . NOW, . . . * . . . GET . . . * . . . DOWN . . . * . . . THERE . . . * . . . AND . . . * . . . SUCK. . . * . . . MY . . . * . . . COCK . . . *!"

Twenty-five. The tears were streaming down my face. Cole gripped my face in his large hands with a pinching motion and shook it. Then he roughly wiped the tears away. Again I was on my knees.

The same response! Gag . . . thirty strokes to my flaming ass!

I had to think of something. Nothing had allowed me to conquer my gag reflex before. In despiration, I slowly resumed my pitiful cock-worship. I nearly pulled back in fear as the head breached my lips. I couldn't gag again. I wouldn't gag again. As I inched down, I decided to go as slowly as I could. I would drag this out and give me time to think. I tried to remember anything that could help me. All the stories I had read suggested breathing through the nose and it would just happen. I've never had any luck with that approach. Suddenly I was at the moment of truth, but my memory and body both failed me.

I was hauled up for thirty-five more wallops. This time, instead of focusing on holding back the pain, I searched my rattled head. I had a plan! It was a longshot, but I had to try something. There was no way I could handle fourty more pounding blows. I was resolved not to receive any more than the 135 swats I had already earned. (110 for gagging, the other 25 from earlier!)

I resumed my position. As I hit the two inch mark, I started my plan in action. Remembering to breathe through my nose, I concentrated on lifting my left foot off the floor. This was a trick my dentist had taught me when I had my first wisdom tooth removed. If I misdirected my thoughts, I could overcome my gagging. I was at the moment of truth and passed it before I realized that Cole's golf ball-knob was in my throat. I took a little more of it, and felt the gagging begin, so I switched focus and retracted a bit for more air. I had done it! I was so pleased with myself that I looked up, cock in mouth, directly into Cole's eyes. He was staring intently. His expression had changed slightly from anticipated anger to mild shock and then pleasure. I dropped my gaze back before Cole got angry with me. I began my assault again. This time, I closed my eyes and concentrated on my foot. I slid forward and ignored the motion . . . ignored the feeling of swallowing a late-summer cucumber. My universe at that moment was my left foot. The need for air prodded itself into my new existance and I retreated before I would choke for lack of oxygen. When my need for breath was sated, I went back to work. I lifted my left leg and began my decent. I had given up on attempting to go as slowly as I had in the beginning. Cole didn't seem to mind, so I dropped in a quick motion. I noted that after a while, I didn't have to focus on my foot as much. I was gaining some control over my gagging. Whenever I felt the "tickle" begin, I forced myself to focus on my foot. Eyes closed, thinking of my foot when needed, and nearly eight inches of a foot long cock in my mouth, I didn't know how I was doing it.

Cole's groans were beginning to get louder as my rhythm picked up. I worked another inch down my throat. Up, take a breath . . . down . . . up and breathe again . . . down and hold. I repeated this pattern until I was rewarded with a nose full of dark red pubic hair. It was while I was holding my nose against his hairy groin that Cole began to cum. His cock expaned, my jaws were nearly stretched to the max and were beginning to tire. Only my dentist had ever had my jaws this far apart before. Cole began a stream of explatives and moans to punctuate his orgasm. I couldn't taste his cum because he was thoroughly buried in my throat. And, to make sure he got all that he wanted out of me, his left hand clamped down on the back of my head, spearing me until he decided I could come up. All I could feel was the spasms stretching my throat as his cock tried to jump around. Once his tremors ceased, Cole loosened his grip and allowed me to remove his cock from my burning throat. I was in desperate need of air.

As I gasped for breath, I looked once again at Cole. He had collapsed back against the wall, his arms hanging limply beside his sweaty, huffing form. I once more dared to glance at his face. His eyes were veiled, but not closed. I didn't look away when our eyes connected. A large grin broke across his face and I was confused yet again.

"DAMN! Joey, you sure give great head. You needed a little coaxing, but you're the first fucker whose ever been able to take all of me."

I stared blankly at him. What the fuck! He just beat my ass, literally, so that I would suck—no, strike that—deep throat, his cock; and he's grins down at me like it's Christmas and I'm supposed to be . . . what? I don't have a clue! What's going on? I come home for a high school reunion thinking it'll be worth a few laughs and suddenly I become the sex-toy of every horny jock in the county. Worse, I've become their whipping boy as well. But the single worst portion of it all is that some part of me was enjoying it. My cock was still rock hard. I was turned on by some part of this. I don't know if it is the controlling, the muscles, the near-force, the rough handling, or what.

At that point, Cole looks down at me. He eyes my rampant soldier.

"All right, Joey. Last chance . . . you want me to fuck you? I promise we'll take care of that for you." He indicated my hard-on with a jut of his chin. "All you have to do is beg me."

I couldn't believe what I had heard! Here he practically raped my mouth when I took to long to ask him to fuck me and now, he's offering to fuck me, but only if I beg him for it! The question was left unspoken . . . how much pride do you have?

Well, let's be honest. When you're a horny little bastard who needs to get off, and has been erect (painfully) for nearly an hour and forty-five minutes, you learn to bury your pride.

I won't go in to all of the grovelling I had to do to get Cole to fuck me. Basically, I found out that he likes subservience, he likes raucous, wild sex, and he LOVES being begged for the pleasure of his cock. I noticed that the more I pleaded with him, the harder his dick got. The nastier I begged, the quicker his dick rose. Soon, he was hard again. He told me I could get fucked if I throated him once more. Still a little sore, I didn't necessarily have his prong tickling my stomach opening again, but as I said, I needed to get my rocks off. So, once again, Cole found me swinging from his dick. I was buried nose-deep in his pubes, and he grunted his pleasure in one syllable words. When I came up off of him, he commanded me to get him all wet so I would enjoy it more. Finally, he determined it was time to fuck me.

"Get your ass up here on this cot, Joey." Cole stood and gestured for me to take his position.

I did my best to imitate his pose on the bed, but I'm just not tall enough to cover that much space. My head fit nicely on the cot with a little bit to spare between it and the wall, while my ass and legs were hanging off the edge. Cole told me to lift my legs and put them around his waist. I did and he started to rub his prick up and down my crack. When the head grazed my butthole, he would stop and make a few tentative thrusts to tease me. This, of course, got me even more riled up and I began to beg with every dirty word I could muster to get him to push inside. I knew he was bigger than Finch, but I thought I could handle it. He spit down upon himself and lubed himself up again. He held out his hand and had me spit into it as well. He stroked himself slick and then began pushing against me. I thought I was going to be ripped in two as the head and an inch or so of his dick popped into my waiting bunghole.

"Geez! . . . Wait! . . ." I sputtered, but it was no good. Cole was in command again, and I was just going along for the ride.

He didn't force himself down so quickly as to shove himself all the way in on the first thrust. He was at least that kind. However, he never let up his slow decent. He was definately laying new pipe. I had never had anyone near his size, and definately never fucking me. The stretching and pressure were intense. I was torn between pleasure and pain. Just when I thought it was unbearable and was about to try to wriggle free, Cole reached out and grabbed my dick with the hand he had slicked himself up with. The leather was still moist and smooth. With all of my own cock-snot leaking, he gripped my sensitive knob and played like my swollen dick was a gear shift. I squirmed in new pleasureable torment. To add to his enjoyment, he even began making the little boy noises to imitate a car accelerating. It both annoyed me and turned me on.

He continued this until it was obvious that I would explode if he did it any longer. I whined in frustration when he released my cock and let it slap back and hit my abdomen.

Cole stopped thrusting into me. He pushed all the way down. Our eyes connected. His hands reached forward and he began to tug at my erect nipples. He pinched the tip and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger then pull the point away from my body. The blending of pleasure and pain was intense. I groaned and arched my back. He let go of my left nipple and pushed down on my stomach to hold me flat on the cot. The action forced him fully in to me. I was in desperate need of him to move within me. I had to feel him thrusting and driving. I began to beg yet again for him to push me over the edge. I begged him to fuck me. I was becoming the king of beggars. My pleas did not long go unanswered. They stoked Cole's fires as much as my own. He removed his hand from my stomach and snared my hip with it. His other hand moved up to clasp my shoulder. Cole crouched a bit and manuvered his left leg slightly behind to give him a better driving thrust. He never broke contact with my eyes as he fractioned his way out of my ass. Once he had pulled back to the point where only his dickhead remained inside, he began a series of jabs which brought his solid cock in contact with my prostate. He never missed a stroke as he prodded me to a delicious state of mind-screaming oblivion. I'm sure it took longer, but it seemed like he only made twenty lunges into me before I began to feel the tingle of orgasm begin in the tips of my toes, my fingers, and the top of my head. It was as if my hair were set ablaze and each fiber was screaming. Then he shoved in, all the way . . . . One agonizing, searing, pleasurable dive into my deepest reaches. That was enough to push my screaming, tingling, overwrougt nerve-endings beyond their limits and my body began convulsing. My spasms were so forceful that it seemed my butthole was going to put a permanent crimp in Cole's cock. My entire chute began to ripple with the effect of being straightened by the monster-schlong's presence. The effect was almost instantaneous. My orgasm triggered the same spasms in Cole's amazing dick. We each had tripped the other's switch. The outcome was so shattering to each of us that our grunts came in unison. Our hearts were racing at the same pace; our breathing was irratic and jagged and synchronized; our tremors redoubled against one another; and our ejaculations were so closely timed that it seemed as if they were choreographed.

My orgasmic juices rocketed between us and with the way my pecker was jerking with my heartbeat, every other blast struck Cole. The first hit him beneath the chin. The second struck me in the hollow of my neck. The third splashed into the valley made by his pectoral muscles, and so on until my seventh volley simply fell into my pubic hair. Cole's ejaculate felt like it was a steady stream inside me. I have no way of knowing if this is the case, but I imagine it as if he were pissing his cum into me, that I was being filled with his cream. As our orgasms waxed and waned, Cole gently lowered his chest down to rest on mine. His weight was full against me and I was pinned beneath his warm, sweaty, glorious body.

"You're fucking unbelievable!" Cole grinned at me then covered my mouth with his own. he forced his tongue into my mouth and I began to suck him deeply within and thrust against his tongue with my own.

I began to feel his weight too heavily and needed to adjust. He sensed this and rolled to rest beside me on the cot. We turned our heads to face one another and he said, "Joey *, you're too fucking much, man."

"Joey *?" Moses finally spat out my name. "You mean Finch's little crack whore is Joey?"

As one, our heads swung to look in his direction. It was clear that our heated sex had gotten Finch and Moses worked up as well. Finch was pumping away at Moses' ass even as he cast disparaging words at me.

"Fuck you! Moses. I don't do that shit!" It was a lame rejoinder, I know, but I was tired.

Cole looked backward over his shoulder at Moses and said, "SHUT THE FUCK UP, PUSSY! JUST STAND THERE AND TAKE IT UP THE ASS!"

That was all it took for Moses to muzzle himself.

I've left this story open-ended, but I'm going to take a brief hiatus from writing. Rest assured there are at least three more installments coming as soon as I can get them out.