Punking Mike, Part 2

Max H.  lilperv76@yahoo.com
Chapter 5

This story involves sex between guys.  If you shouldn't be reading stuff like that, move on.

The characters in this fantasy may not always practice safe sex.  In the world we live in everyone should practice safe sex.

It's okay to print this story out or save it to disc, but it remains my property.  Don't transfer it to another website or archive without my permission.

Thanks to TW for doing the beta reading here.

MC = Mike Cronin   GP = Gage Patrick


I was having a great dream.  Someone was licking my cock as if it were a popsicle.  I cracked my eyes ever so slightly and saw that it was getting to be daylight.  Shit!  I liked that dream and didn't want to wake up.  Though I kept my eyes closed, my brain decided it was open for business.  And then I realized that  someone actually was licking my shaft, tickling the tip, the piss slit, and that super-sensitive spot on the under side with the tip of his tongue.    No dream.  It was Mike.

I put a hand on his head and began to run my fingers through his curly hair.  "Good morning, lover."

Mike, who was on his elbows and knees beside me, said, "Good morning, love!"

"'s a nice way to wake up."

"Yeah, I think so.  Soon's I get you off, though, can we talk?"

I sat up and swung my feet over the edge of the bed.  "Actually, Mikey, I gotta pee so bad I don't think I could come."

"Awww!  Okay, then.  I'll go get in the shower.  Somehow I've managed to get dried cum on me."  He grinned.  We had had quite a session that night.

Later, at breakfast, I asked, "What did you want to talk about, babe?"

He looked uncomfortable and put down his spoon.  "Well, uh, I need to know something."

"What's that?"

"Last night, when you said you loved me, that was probably just something you said because things were pretty hot between us just then, right?"

I put down my coffee mug.  "No, kiddo, that's not the way it was.  Yeah, we were both pretty turned on, but that's not what prompted me to say the L-word."


"Nope.  Mike, I think I've been gradually falling in love with you since that first morning when I ran by you on the beach and didn't stop.  I worried about you all day and almost came back later to see if you were still there.  I was really relieved when you were there the next morning, and I didn't understand why at the time.  You seemed so alone.  I sensed that you were in a really bad place.  And I didn't want you to be.  Looking back on it, I'm not quite sure what happened there.  I've seen other people in trouble.  The world is full of homeless people and runaways.  But the image of you sitting there staring with vacant eyes out at the water haunted me all that first day, and when I saw you the second day, I knew I had to stop and talk to you."

"Shit.  And I'm not even sure I paid any attention to you the first time you saw me."

"Well, as soon as we had spoken to each other, I knew I couldn't just leave you there."

He grinned.  "Sort of like finding a puppy and hoping it will follow you home?"

I laughed and took a sip of my coffee.  It had gotten cold, so I got up and poured each of us a warm-up.  "Well, yeah, maybe.  Anyway, as you know, one thing led to another, and I couldn't let you go when I had to start home from Key West.  I'd have been terribly disappointed if you hadn't agreed to come with me.  Having you here has been so natural, as if you belonged in this house, as if we belonged together."

He reached across the table and put a hand over mine.  "Gage, I've been feeling the same way."

I turned my hand over, so we were palm to palm.  I squeezed his hand.  "Then, Mike, last night, when you told me your story, about everything that bastard Seth put you through and all the nasty fall-out from it, I was stunned.  I was so furious I wanted to go find him and tear him apart personally.  I wanted to cry because of what you had to suffer.  And then it was clear to me.  I love you.  I would have been upset and angry hearing that story about anybody, but I was really powerfully hit by what you told me because it happened to you.  I knew then that I loved you."

He got up, came around the table, and sat on my lap.  He put his arms around my head and pulled it against his chest, kissing the top of my hair repeatedly.  And then I felt him begin to shake.  He was crying.

"Mike, let's go into the great room."

He stood up, smiled, sniffled, and said, "Okay.  Sorry.  Didn't mean to be a wuss."

"The fact that you are alive and sane proves you aren't a wuss, baby.  You had to be pretty tough to go through all that.  Don't talk like that.  Now, come on."

We settled on one of the sofas, my arm around his shoulders, his head on my chest.

"Gage, how could I not love the guy who saw a piece of trash on the beach and picked it up and treated it like it was something rare and important?  I've said already, you saved my life.  Just asking me to spend time with you on Key West, buying me clothes, feeding me, and all that that changed my attitude.  I knew then that I was going to manage, somehow.  I'd have gotten a job, if it had only been flipping burgers somewhere, a job that didn't involve being a slut.  You made me realize in those few days that I could be worth something.  If you enjoyed my company and didn't just want me for sex, why then I wasn't just a piece of trash.  Not if a guy like Gage Patrick could like me."

There were tears in his eyes again, and one began sliding down his face.  I reached over and wiped it away with my thumb.

"The longer we've been together, the more I've seen what a special guy you are.  And now that we are here, I see what a good friend you are to Brent and Bev and my lil bro Gus."

I cocked an eyebrow at the "lil bro" thing.

"Oh, yeah, I'll have to tell you about that.  But I just wanted to say I've been falling for you, man, bigtime.  I didn't know how to tell you, though.  Terry asked me the first time he took me to campus if you were just a meal ticket for me.  He said he liked you a lot, that you were a decent guy, and that he and I couldn't be friends if I was just using you."

I waited for him to go on.

"I told him that's not the way it is.  And I knew then, if I hadn't realized it sooner, I was really falling in love with this guy who'd been so good to me.  It wasn't just gratitude I was feeling.  It was something else.  You look fabulous.  You're the best company.  Like I said last night, I was feeling something I've never felt before, not even for Jason.  But I was afraid to tell you because I wasn't sure what to say.  I was so afraid you'd think I was saying it because I didn't want to lose what I've got going for me here."

"But . . . ?"

"But last night, when you said you wanted to `make love to me' and not just fuck me, I knew that was significant, that you were telling me something."

"I was, love, I was."

"But I feel like such a leech.  How can I ever pay you back?"

"Forget paying me back.  We're lovers and, as I've said before, partners.  Down the road, we'll see.  Right now, your job is to do the best you can at Kent."  I paused.  "And there's something that bothers me, Mike."

"Tell me."

"I worry, especially in view of what you told me last night, that I'm really not your lover but your surrogate father.  You and your dad are estranged right now, unfortunately, though I'm inclined to see you both as Seth's victims.  I wish you two could make it up.  And I sure as hell don't want to be a substitute for him."

He thought about that for a minute or two and then actually grinned.  "Gage, first of all, I love Dad, but I've never wanted to have sex with him.  And I just can't get enough sex with you.  I was sick to my stomach when I realized I'd sucked him off that night, and I feel that way every time I think about it.  I do hope he can find some happiness.  After all, I'm the one who caused him to lose everything!  I wish I could beg his forgiveness."

"Well, he must share some of the guilt, but we don't need to get into that right now."

"Here's the thing, Gage. I've teased you and called you `daddy,' but man, you are in no way a father figure.  You are my beautiful, sexy, hot lover.  Got that?"

I pulled his head up to mine and explored his mouth with my tongue for a while.

When we broke apart, panting, the clock in the entry struck seven thirty.  "Jeez, he said, "Terry'll be here to pick me up in half an hour.  I'd better finish dressing and get my gear together."

"Yeah, lover, I've got to get busy, too.  But I'm glad we had this talk.  I'll remember it forever, Mike."

He gave me another kiss and a quick grope to my crotch.  "Yeah, studly, so will I.  And, Gage, thanks!"

"Cut out the thanks!  Just remember I love you."


Being back on a university campus gave me a problem I'd never had before.  Or, an old problem with a twist.  Maybe I'd better explain.  The previous year at IU there were so many great-looking women I was on the bone most of the time.    But things changed majorly for me over the summer, and at Kent I found I was being driven crazy by all the sexy guys.  I looked at packages and asses until I was afraid I was going to be too obvious about it and make some guy mad.  I'd be walking across campus and see some hot dude and wonder how it would feel to have his cock up my ass.  And then I'd bone up.  Or I'd see someone with a big package and then I'd not only bone up, but I'd literally salivate thinking how I'd like to get that cock in my mouth.  

I'd never been this sex crazy before, not even in high school, when all I thought about was girls.  I'd enjoyed being at IU last year.  Sure, I enjoyed dating and the social life, but I could work on my studies when I needed to.  I didn't sit in class with this emptiness in my ass that I needed to have filled.  

And everywhere I looked, there were guys, hot, sexy studs!

It started with Terry.  I've already told you about him.  During the fall term, we drove to Kent together three times a week, taking turns.  On Tuesdays and Thursdays our schedules were different, so we both drove.  The more I knew Terry, the better I liked him.  You know, just liked him.  As a friend.  He seemed quiet at first, but as I got to know him, I discovered that he was smart and that he had a subtle sense of humor.  But I was always aware of his swimmer's body sitting next to me in his car or mine.  We usually met for lunch, too.  It was great having a buddy to talk with about classes and the football season, and such.  Better still that he was gay and we could talk about which guys we thought were hot and the latest episode of Queer as Folk.  But I was always boned up when he was around.  When he smiled at me, my cock would lurch, and I'd have to adjust myself.  And the dog knew what he was doing, too, `cause he'd always grin and look at my crotch after I'd done it.  He didn't say anything.  But that smile told me he knew.

Then there was my English prof.  He was short, with dark, curly hair and a carefully-trimmed mustache.  I thought he looked like a miniature version of Michelangelo's "David."  He had an Italian name, too.  He wore jeans a lot to class, and he had thighs like a soccer player's.  And a package to die for.  How as I supposed to concentrate on Milton's "Lycidas" when he'd lean back against the front edge of his desk and sort of spread his legs?  His butt would rest just on the rim of the desk, and I'd be leaking in my pants.  

I'll give Dr. M. this.  He was a great prof, and a great guy.  I enjoyed the reading we were doing, and he was great at drawing discussion out of the class.  It wasn't his fault that he was a sizzling little hunk and I was lusting for his body.

I often spent an hour or so at the library studying while I waited for Terry to get out of his class and met me for lunch.  Most days, there'd be a cute little oriental guy who looked a lot like Jason, always sitting in the same place.  I made a point of sitting at the same table in the reading room if there was a free space.  The first time or so, he didn't even look up when I sat down.  Then, after a few days, he'd look up and smile at me, and, of course, my already hard cock would burp out some precum.  Some days I had to hold my backpack in front of me when I left the library so people wouldn't see the spot in my khaki cargoes or my jeans.  I learned that his name was Kim.  It helped a little when one day I saw him with his arms around a beautiful girl.  At least for a while I didn't fantasize about him fucking me.  But then, the fantasies came back because I'd look up, and there he'd be across the table, giving me his flicker of a smile.  And I'd forget about Donne or Herbert or Dryden and dream about showing him how much better my ass was than his girl's pussy.

Oh, and there was the guy at the gym.  Well, there were lots of guys at the gym.  But this one was always at the desk when Gage and I went to work out.  He looked like a wrestler or a football player, and I think he must have been a student at U of Akron, for he sometimes had an Akron tee on.  He always wore shorts and trainers.  But he was about 6'4' and all muscle.  He had huge shoulders.  His guns were almost as big as my thighs.  He wore his hair in a sort of a long crewcut which he kept gelled and spiked up.  And there was just the kind of bulge in his shorts you'd expect.  It was really difficult not to bone up whenever I walked past him, but since I was going to be changing twice with Gage and spotting for him, and showering with him afterward, I didn't want to embarrass either him or me with a hardon.

Was I worse than the average college sophomore?  Probably not.  But then . . . I had sort of discovered the wonders of sex twice, and the second time was more distracting than  the first.  But the classes were a lot harder.  And I had a lover.  Gage and I have beautiful sex every night.  What more could a guy want?  I began to feel guilty about all the hot fantasies I was having about Kim, Terry, Professor M., and the gym guy.  

`Mike boy,' I told myself, you've got to get a grip!'


One evening about 9:00, Mike came into the great room and said he'd finished his class assignments.

"Good, Mikey.  Wanna watch some tv with me?"

"No, thanks, man.  I've, uh, got this problem."

"Sit down, babe, and tell me about it."

"Gage, could you just spank me instead?"

"Spank you?  That will help your problem?"


"Mike, is your problem just that you get off on being spanked?"

He thought about that. "No, I don't think that's it.  I just need you to show me that I'm yours, that you're the boss."

"Oh, sheesh, Mike.  Here we go again.  You know it really bothers me when you talk like that.  I'm not your boss.  I hope you are mine in the sense that you love me like I love you and that you want to be here with me."

"Oh, yeah, man, that's for sure.  I DO love you, Gage."

"So, what's the problem?"

"You may be mad at me when I tell you."

"Well, tell me."  I chuckled.  "Maybe I'll want to spank you."

"Could you just take my word for it tonight and spank me?  I haven't sucked off the pizza guy or anything like that.  And I really do love you."

I didn't know what to do.  I just wasn't into inflicting pain.  I'd read enough stuff to know that some guys get off on giving pain in sexual situations and others enjoy being on the receiving end.  But it was hard for me to associate love with that.  I couldn't even see what was sexy about it.

But I loved Mike, and obviously he knew what his needs were.  "Mikey, I love you, too, and I want to make you happy.  I think you know I don't ever want to hurt you.  But I'll trust you to know what you need.  So you really want to be spanked?"

"Yeah, man, I need for you to do it.  And, Gage, could you sort of act like I'm the kid who's been naughty?"

"This is a game?"

He grinned.  "Well, let's say a game with a purpose.  Now, do you want to come upstairs?"


"Well, you're going to spank my bare ass, aren't you?"

"Oh, yeah.  But nobody can see in, and we're not expecting anybody.  So we'll do it right here.  Now, I want you to slowly take off your clothes, fold them, and put them on that chair."  I figured that if he wanted to play this game, I could play it his way for a while.

He shot me a surprised look, and then pulled his sweater over his head, using that cross-armed motion that I think is so sexy.  He folded it neatly, put it on the seat of the chair, and stood there in his tee and jeans.  

"Don't just stand there, Michael.  Lose the tee shirt."

He took it off, setting his nip rings to swinging in the process.  That was so hot I wanted to jump his bones, but I restrained myself.  I let him stand there a minute while I drank in his beauty.  Going to the gym for the last month was paying off.  His abs were regaining their definition.  His summer tan had faded some, but he still was a beautiful sort of golden color.  He had no hair above his waist, and I noticed that he must be keeping his pits shaved.  There was no treasure trail showing between his navel and the top of his jeans, either.


He sat on a hassock and pulled off his sneakers and socks.  

"Okay, young man.  Stand up."  He did.  "Now the jeans."

He was wearing 501's, so he had to undo all the buttons.  Then he let them drop to the floor.  A couple of inches of his hard dick were sticking up beyond the band of his CK briefs.  He bent over to pick up his jeans.  I nearly came as I stared, mesmerized, at the way the fabric of his briefs stretched over his beautiful butt.  I needed to rearrange my cock, which was now aching, but I was afraid to touch it for fear I'd come.

And then there he was, naked in front of me.  He'd put his jeans and briefs with his other clothes.  He'd obviously shaved his body again, for recently he'd been showing a little stubble in the pubic area, and now he was totally smooth again.

His newly-freed cock was pointing at my face, and there was a drop of precum clinging to his piss slit.  I wanted so bad to lick it off, but I knew my role in this game Mike seemed so desperate for us to play.

"Now, Mike, go get a bath towel.  There are only hand towels in the downstairs lav, so you'll have to go to one of the upstairs baths to get one."  He looked puzzled for a moment, and then moved off quickly for the stairs.  The state of my cock wasn't relieved any by watching his butt wiggle as he crossed the room and went up the stairs.

Why the towel?  I had taken off my jacket and tie when I got home, but I was still in an oxford shirt and dress slacks.  I didn't want him leaking anything on my clothes while I spanked him, and I remembered that he got pretty leaky the other time he'd asked me to do that to him.

Of course, the towel wouldn't do any good if the cum was coming from the other direction.  I hoped desperately I wouldn't orgasm while he was bent over my lap.  It worried me that I was so hard and hot, but I attributed that to watching Mike strip in front of me.  Surely spanking him wasn't going to turn me on.  Was it?

Mike's erection hadn't gone down an iota when he came back and handed me the bath towel.  

"Go in the dining room and bring me one of those chairs, please."  He did as told.  When he brought the chair, I sat in it and spread the towel loosely over my lap.  I made sure there was enough material hanging down between my legs to allow Mike's cock some freedom, some wiggle room.

I sighed, though it was pure theatrics.  I was as aroused as Mike was by what we were about to do.  I couldn't tell myself otherwise.  He was so fucking hot, he was sexually aroused in anticipation of the spanking he was about to get, and he had practically begged me to do it.  I don't know why that should have gotten me so heated up, but it did, as my throbbing, leaking cock attested.

Before he assumed his position lying across my lap, Mike grinned at me and said, "Is the towel for my leaks or yours?  Sir?"

"Shut up, boy, and take your spanking," I said, trying to frown at him.

He lay down across my legs.  I put my hand on his beautiful butt and rubbed it around.  I wanted to give him a licking.  I wanted to lick those smooth, taut cheeks, stick my tongue in his hairless crevice, lap from his perineum to his pucker, tongue his hole.  But he expected me to swat his butt.  Seemed a crying shame to me, but he had needs, and I was going to try to give him what he needed.  Besides, I could always get my mouth on his sweet ass later.

"Sir, what are you waiting for?"

"Hush, boy.  You don't need to know exactly when the blow is coming." With that I smacked him sharply on his right buttock.

"That's one, sir!"

We went on like the previous time until we had reached fifty.  Not only was Mike's ass red by then, but so was his face.  He had valiantly counted off each swat, which I alternated on his cheeks, but the pain that built up was evident in his voice.

At fifty, I said, "Whatever you've done bad, boy, I think that's enough."

Although he hadn't cried, he sniffled before saying, "Whatever you think, sir.  You can always give me more when you find out how bad I've been."

I ran my hand lightly over his flaming red ass, and he shuddered.  I hadn't come, but I was still hard.  I was embarrassed to have him stand up and remove the towel.  Then it occurred to me that he'd probably be pleased.

"Mike, I suggest we adjourn here and resume upstairs.  I think that red derriere of yours needs some attention, don't you?"

He stood up.  His cock was still hard, red, and throbbing.  "Oh, and your butt isn't all that needs attention, is it, Mike?"

"No, sir."  He grabbed up the towel, took a good look at the bulge in my slacks, and leered at me.  "It certainly isn't."

With that he ran upstairs.  I checked that the doors were locked and the security system was set.  Then I turned out the lights and went upstairs.

Mike had turned down the covers on the bed and was lying on his stomach.  His poor butt practically glowed, and I felt terribly guilty.  Guilty because I had hurt him and guilty because I had become so aroused doing it.  I stripped off my clothes and then went into the bathroom, where I took a soothing skin cream with aloe from the medicine cabinet.  I went and knelt beside the bed.  I squeezed the cream into my palm and warmed it.  Then I began to rub it gently into the skin on his rosy butt, which was hot to the touch.

Mike sighed.  Then he said, "Gage, it's supposed to hurt. You're so sweet.  But you don't have to do that."

"Is it okay if I do it, babe?"

"Well, it sort of defeats the purpose, but I love you for doing it.  And it feels wonderful!"

I gently worked the cream into his skin until it wasn't greasy any longer.  Then I rolled him over on his back and kissed him.  Then I began to suck where his neck joins the shoulder until I gave him a hickey.  

"There, I've marked you as mine, stud."

"Thanks, Gage.  I want the world to know I'm yours."

"So do I, babe," I said, chuckling, "so do I!  Who'd ever have thought that a guy as old as I am could satisfy a stud like you, much less have him say he loves me?"

"Oh, man, I love you SO much!"

I began to kiss his chest and lick his nips and flick his nip rings with my tongue.  He shivered.  "Make love to me, Gage, please?"

"I like your choice of words, sweetheart!  Just relax and let me show you how much I love you."

"Fan-fucking-tastic, lover!"

I kissed my way down his torso, nibbling, licking, and sucking, until I got to his hairless pubic area.  Then I asked him to roll over.  When he did, I very gently pulled his melons apart and began to tongue his crease.  He moaned his appreciation.  As I began to lap at his pucker, he tensed up.

"What's wrong, Mike?"

"Gage, this is all wrong!"

"What's wrong?  Why?"  I was afraid he was going to say he didn't love me after all or something.  What had I done?"

"I asked you to spank me because I've been doing something bad.  You shouldn't be so good to me now.  I'm supposed to be punished."

I could gladly have strangled Seth Watkins at that point.  In fact, I could have subjected him to endless torture.  He had taken this sweet boy and fucked with his brain.  I hoped in some prison in Indiana he was getting what he truly deserved.  

"Mike, I want to make love to you, and I promise I will.  But maybe you had better just go ahead and tell me what it is you've done that makes you think you need to be punished."

I got off of him and lay beside him.  He rolled over on his back and laced his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

"In a course I took in high school, I remember Jimmy Carter admitted that he had, what was it?  Lusted in his heart for some woman, or some women."

"Yeah, babe, so?"

"Gage, I love you.  I can't tell you how much I love you.  You are such a good man, and you've been so good to me, and you are so fucking beautiful and sexy."

I kissed him for a while, our tongues engaging in a delicate dance.  "So, Mikey.  Have you been lusting in your heart for someone?"

"Not quite."

"Is there some guy I should know about, sweetheart?"

"No, not one guy.  All guys!"

"ALL guys?  Explain that to me, please."

"Gage, since I've started to Kent, I'm hard all the time.  I see so many fucking hot dudes, I'm all the time leaking in my shorts, boned up, sometimes short of breath.  I see these guys everywhere, even my English prof, for God's sake, and I wonder what it would be like to have their cocks in my mouth or my ass."


"So?  Gage, I love you!  I am absolutely in love with you.  You are the best thing that ever happened to me, the reason I get up in the morning and come home in the evening!  And I feel like such a shit because I get so aroused by other guys."

I pulled him onto his side close to me.  I stuck my tongue in his ear and wiggled it until he quivered.  "Mike, how old are you?"

"I'll soon be twenty."

I made a mental note to come back to that.  He was going to have a birthday, and I didn't know when.

"Twenty.  Over the hill!  Lost your virility by that time, huh?"

"No, dammit."

I squeezed him and nibbled his earlobe.  "Mike, love, my sweet man, it goes with the territory.  At your age, all guys are on the bone most of the time.  Shit, at my advanced age, I get woodies when I see studly guys.  You mustn't feel guilty because you get turned on by guys."

I kissed him until we were both gasping.  "I admit, stud, that if you decided to fool around with somebody else, I'd be pretty hurt.  I think I might understand.  After all, I'm a lot older than you, and I'd see why you might find some guys your age pretty damned attractive.  But I'd be hurt, like I said, if you actually followed thorough on what your libido was urging you to do."

He seemed to relax in my arms.  Then he pushed me onto my back and began sucking on one of my nips, occasionally flicking it with his tongue.  In the haze of fantastic feeling I was experiencing, I wondered what it might be like to have tit rings.  

When he got to my navel, he stuck his nose in it and wiggled it around.  I groaned and put my fingers in his hair.  He took my aching cock in his mouth and began to do wonderful things to it.  

"Mike, stop, please!"

"What's wrong?"

"You're gonna make me come, baby, and I don't want to do that yet?"

He leered up at me.  "What ya got in mind, sexy?"

"On your elbows and knees, boy, and I'll show you.  How's your ass?"

"My ass can take anything you want to give it, old man."

"We'll just see about that."

He rolled over, and I began to eat him out.  Granted, my experience at rimming and such was limited to half a dozen guys, but nobody, repeat, nobody, had ever made me want to get and keep my mouth on his hole the way Mike did.  That beautiful ass should be in the Smithsonian!  Furling my tongue, I had it inside him, licking the smooth walls of his chute, and was pretty much zoned out.



I pulled my face out of his crack.  "Yeah, Mike?"

"If you keep that up, I'm gonna come real quick.  Could you fuck me instead?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry.  Please make love to me.  I need you to do that.  I need to feel you inside me.  And I need to know you aren't mad at me because of what I told you."

"Hand me the lube and a rubber, Mike, please."

He did and then rolled over onto his back.  I put some lube on my by-now anguished cock, rolled the condom on it, lubed that, and positioned myself between Mike's legs.

"Hurry, please.  I need that big cock of yours in me.  Now!"

Between the saliva I'd deposited in his hole and the lube on my sheathed cock, I had no trouble entering him.  I was watching his face carefully, so as to be sure not to hurt him.

He reached up, grabbed me by the hips, and pulled me into him until my pubes hit his butt.  "Oooh, yeah!  That's what I need.  I feel empty all day long.  I can't wait to get back here and have you plug my empty butt.  Do me, please!"

I did him and did him and did him.  After the first time I came, he hadn't come yet.  So I leaned forward onto him and we kissed for a while.  Then, without ever losing my erection, I began to pump slowly in and out of him.  He flailed around and groaned.  

"Yeah, Gage.  Ease my itch, man, make me yours.  Claim me.  Fuck me!"

It felt so good I didn't want it to end, so I pumped very slowly.  It seemed to last for a long time.  In fact, I lost track of time, lost in the indescribable feeling of having my cock inside the neediest and most talented butt I'd ever experienced, knowing the man I was with loved me.  

I awoke from that reverie when Mike clamped down on my dick with his ass muscle, arched his back under me, and began to shoot his thick white cum all over himself.  The first shot landed on his face, and by the time he was finished, there was a line of cum blobs from his chin to where his pubes should have been.  That was all it took for me, and I tilted my head back, yelled something, I don't know what, and fired once more into the already cum-filled condom.

The next morning, as we were having breakfast, Mike said, "You know, Sir, you're going to have to keep reminding me that I'm yours.  You can count on me not to do anything naughty with any of those sexy dudes I see on campus, but if you want to keep my thoughts in line, I'm going to need regular reminders like last night."

"You mean the spanking or the sex?''

He grinned at me and said "Yes!"

As I grinned back and reached under the table to adjust my expanding cock, I was thinking of some ways to help Mike remember he was mine.

To be continued.