Date: Fri, 22 Feb 2008 10:46:23 -0800 (PST) From: Ted M Subject: Taking Mark's Virginity: Part 3 I wonder what's in this pizza sauce that makes it taste the way it does. Honestly? I don't have a very discriminating palate, so I can't do what some of my friends do: take two bites and then analyze something like the ratio of basil to Italian seasoning. I can never pick out the individual flavors. I just know that I love how it tastes. I'm not usually a huge fan of onions but they taste pretty damn good with bacon on this pizza. I have downed about half of my slice when the door to Romero's clatters open. I don't bother looking up. I know who it is. He goes to the front to order, and finds out that I've paid for his slice. They're keeping it warm for him. Mark shuffles over to the stool next to me, sitting on the side between me and Mr. iPod. "Hey." He says softly. "Hey." I reply. He takes a cautious bite as I continue to munch away. "So. " I say between bites. "You're here." "Yeah." He says quietly. We eat for another minute or two. "What made you come in?" He shrugs. "You don't know?" I laugh. I kick the metal leg of his stool. "Gimmie a fucking break." He chuckles just a little bit. It's good to see Marky smile. "Seriously." I say in a quieter voice. "My cum is soaking through your colon right now. You have twice screamed out that you love me and both times you meant it. We're way beyond playing games and being shy, you and me. So answer my question and no bullshit. Only truth. Why'd you come in?" He shrugs uncomfortably and leans in closer to me. "I-I thought you were gonna talk to that guy." Mark nervously indicates Mr. iPod a few stools away. "Him?" I indicate. "Nowhere near as sexy as you." Mark blushes a little bit, embarrassed to be caught in his jealousy. We eat another bite or two and I keep my leg pressed against his. "But I thought I saw you write him a note." Mark says slowly. "Yeah?" I say. "Hey, I got you a napkin. You got something on your chin." He fiddles with the napkin I push towards him and he seems like he is choosing his words carefully. "Did you write him a note?" "Seriously. Use your napkin." I tell him. He looks up at me and his eyes are confused. He wants to believe that nothing was going to happen with Mr. iPod, but Mark is confident in what he saw. "Napkin." I say rather pointedly and bounce my index finger off it. He finally takes my meaning. Mark unfolds the cheap napkin to find my note. It says: I CAME TO NEW JERSEY TO BE WITH YOU. AND ONLY YOU. He stares at the note for a long time. He folds the napkin in half. From the corner of my eye, I can see his hands shaking. He takes another bite of pizza, chewing it slowly, slowly. "There are a bunch of different kinds of love." I tell him, licking the last bit of sauce from my fingers. "There's the kind of love you have where you're IN love with someone. They're your boyfriend, your girlfriend, your soulmate, your whatever. That kind of love takes time. You can't be IN love like that in two days, because that kind of love evolves over time. You don't get to be IN love until you've had a few fights, figure out how to make up. You see the other person's faults and you still want to kiss `em anyway." He doesn't make eye contact with me but I can feel him hanging on every word. "Then there's you and me." I say in a voice a shade raspier. "Now THAT kind of love...well, it's powerful stuff. Primal. It's even beautiful. It's created by two men going through something together. It's soul-touching . Maybe it's the first steps to being in love. Or maybe not – it could just be loving each other right now. There are no expectations, except to treat each other with loving, raunchy respect – there's only right now at this moment." Mark whispers, "Yes, Sir," and drinks his soda. I love seeing his rosy, full lips twisted around that straw sucking, slurping. It's just about time to fuck his face. "Not every guy who says he loves you means it. So you don't pay any attention to the word `love.' Pay attention to how he is around you. See if he's radiating love all over you. You don't need to hear the words when you can smell it and taste it all over him." He's hearing it – every word – but it's swimming through his skull. It'll make sense later. "There's all kinds of unhealthy love, too." I continue. "The kind of twisted love where the other guy is hurting you, doing stuff that's not in your best interest. But if it's real love, then you're making each other better men, not tearing each other down." He nods but I'm not sure he understands. "Oh yeah...sometimes guys in healthy love do stupid stuff anyway, just because...well, we're guys. We do dumb shit." Mark is finished with everything but his crust. "I was in love this one time." I begin, and Mark perks up. "Great guy. He lived in Atlanta. I flew down to see him on weekends. Once I flew down a day early and accidentally caught him coming home from some other dude's place. His whole body reeked of sex. Not just the physical smell...but his guilty eyes, his vibe...everything about him screamed that he had just given his body to some other dude." "What did you do?" he asks. "I stared at him." There's silence for a moment. "That's it?" Mark says incredulously. "You just stared at him?" "Just stared." I repeated. "This guy, my boyfriend at the time, kept pacing and talking fast, swearing I was misinterpreting and jumping to conclusions and yet he kept getting more and more agitated while I said nothing." Mark stares at me, glued to the story. "Finally I got up and walked over to him. He stood perfectly still and he was panting like a dog or like an animal in a trap. His eyes were desperate. He whimpered when I got close, as if I were going to smack him. But he knew I would never do that. Actually I think he would have preferred that I knock him around. Instead, I reached under his collar and gently pulled forth the gold chain that I put around his neck on the night when I told him I was in love with him." I meet Mark's eyes and stop speaking. "What happened?" Mark asks breathlessly. I study Mark carefully before speaking. "He started crying. Sobbing. Broke down and told me all the details: how often he cheated, where he met guys and what they did together, everything." Mark nods. "So he didn't love you." "Actually, he did. Love isn't always easy to take, Marky. Not every guy handles love the same way. This dude was in love with me but was freaked out. He worried that I was cheating on him, that I didn't love him enough, that this relationship would end...he just couldn't handle my love. And instead of bringing all that vulnerability and insecurity to me, he just acted blindly on it. If he had come to me first, we could have done something about that insecurity together." "Did you?" "Did I what?" "Cheat on him?" It takes all my energy not to kiss him right now. "What do you think, Mark?" I ask quietly. "Did I cheat on him?" He stares at me, his rich brown eyes unafraid. "No." he says finally. "You didn't." I smile at him. "Finish your pizza." Mark nods somberly and picks up the thick chewy crust remaining on his plate. "We going somewhere next?" he asks, right before stuffing his face full. "Home." I tell him. "Kawl." His mouth is stuffed so full it takes me a moment to interpret what he says. Then I start laughing. *** We pull up to the motel and Mark bounces out of the car. He yells over the hood, "Key!" and so I flip him the shiny room key high in the air. They don't make those big heavy keys anymore. He manages to catch it despite the badly lit parking lot and he pumps his arms high in the Victory dance while he jogs in a small circle. "Who rocks?" He laughs excitedly. "Who just fucking rocks?" "You do." I roll my eyes. "You're Walter Fucking Payton." "Who?" "Nevermind." "Did he play football back in the 1950s or something?" "Oh, you little prick." Mark grins wickedly at me. He bounces through the doorway and leaves it open for me. He's already crawling across the cum-stained sloppy bed, grabbing for the TV remote on the bed stand. I slam the door and it startles him enough to knock the remote to the floor. "Get up." I order him. He climbs to the edge of the bed and comes to me with a more deferential air. I stare into his eyes two inches from my own and he doesn't flinch. Good man. He can hear the jingling of my belt and the mighty ziiiiiip which indicates my beast is nearly free. "I thought we were done." He says with a little surprise. "Why would you think that?" I say firmly. My pants fall to my ankles. "Well," he hesitates at first. "I came twice. I rarely cum twice. I couldn't cum more than that." "You sure about that?" I ask him with a certain glint in my eye. His eyes flex a bit more open. I don't give him the chance to reply. "And even if you can't cum more than twice...I can." I put my hands on his shoulders. He resists dropping to his knees. "Can I take this thing out of my butt?" He whines. I shake my head in a wide no. "We need that for Number Four." He looks puzzled and almost asks, but then just growls and drops to his knees. "Take it out." I command. He sighs and reaches towards my pouch. "No hands." I state. He looks up at me with exasperated wonder. Poor little dude – his tummy is full of pizza and he doesn't know if he has the energy for more. It's been a big day for Mark. But it's not over. It's the licking and lathering my cock that changes his attitude. Somewhere in the first dozen attempts to remove my shorts the chore became interesting. And even arousing. He's having trouble peeling my white cock pouch off my hard dick, and the harder my cock, the harder it is for him to move the fabric with his tongue. Of course, my rigid dick is also soaking the fabric with precum, and Mark has discovered the wonder of this magic fluid. Tentatively at first, he tastes a clear drop as it hangs dangling off the soaked pouch right under my bullet-shaped dick head. It's sticky. Sweet. Maybe it echoes the tang from my armpit. I dunno, but it's all me, so there has got to be some similarity in taste. He discovers he very much likes this clear fluid. Lucky for him, there's an available source nearby. Another drop is already falling from the pouch and he gobbles that too before sucking the wet fabric over my cock head. A rush of the fluid passes into him from the pouch and his eyes glaze over. Then he gets serious about removing my cock pouch with his tongue: he's gotta have it. Now. It doesn't take long after this point. Motivation changes everything. And suddenly there it is: the meat stick that pumped babies into him twice already is right at eye-level, already spitting out a few more dribbles of the candy juice. He opens his mouth wide and is ready to clomp down over my dick when he stops suddenly and looks up. His eyes beg me. Good boy. "Go." I say quietly and he attacks. His olive-oil skin ripples as his cheeks suck in and blow out. But this is not the time for correcting technique. This is the moment to savor an eager puppy with his first bone. Every time he whimpers I know that's because he tastes more slick, more of my juice hits one of his taste buds. My cock bumps his back teeth every now and then and he hasn't mastered his suck technique. But he's figuring it out. I grab his chin and stop his sucking, keeping him revved while kneeling in place. I cup the side of his face with my hand and slowly move my drooling dick over his tongue. More whimpering. Marky, Marky, Marky. I slow fuck his face, watching his brown eyes open and close with gratitude and wonder. He didn't know he'd be this into it. He didn't expect the taste to be intoxicating and feel so right. Everything is a surprise tonight. I guide my cock to the back of his mouth, the beginning of his throat. He gags a little and I pull out. Then, it's back to that spot in his throat. He gags again, but catches it a bit. "Breathe through your nose." I command him and he tries: loud horsey breaths that flick out snot. "That's it, Mark. You got it." I pull out and then rub his lips with my dick head. He's breathing heavily, recapturing lost air. He wasn't deep throating, but he probably thinks he was. "Put my nuts in your mouth." He struggles to get both of them in his mouth, they're so fat. I can't help but deliberately bounce them off his face a little bit, smacking him, teasing him while his tongue chases each one. He manages to get my left nut in his mouth and I think he tastes the juicy mixture that dried on my nuts earlier, because he starts sucking with more energy. "Easy, Tiger." After his sucking becomes a little over-eager, I pull him off my nut. He's looking up at me with those shining brown eyes. I think he might even complain for taking away his newest chew toy, but luckily my dick head has been spilling pre-seed and is slick. He's easily distracted. "No." I say softly and hold his head back from my cock. He looks at me and I think there's a hint of frustrating in his eyes. He's READY. I smile at my guy and wipe my cock over his lips, his cheek. I smear my juice over his nose, his other cheek, up and down his face. I am owning this man. Mark breathes heavily, doing his best to be patient. He looks so good, his thick dark eyebrows, precum glistening on his lightly brownish skin. His red, pouty lips twitching. "Ready?" I ask. As soon as he open his mouth to answer I put my cock inside. He grips it. Moans. "Ready?" I ask again in the same tone of voice and now with my dick in his mouth he's not sure how to answer. But he figures it out; he nods and drags my dick up and down in the process. I fuck his mouth in sweet loving strokes and he's digging it. Each time, I push a little further back, a little deeper towards his throat. I'm precumming a lot and he's whimpering a lot. It's a good symbiotic relationship `cause I'm vain enough to love it when my guy gets off on my juice. He looks great on his knees, fully clothed. I can't wait to see him do this naked. Mark is sucking eagerly, but hey, he's new to this, so probably wondering how long this kind of thing lasts. Three minutes? Fifteen? He doesn't know that I prefer marathon four-hour blow jobs. Of course, that's not going to happen tonight. He's not yet the man who can handle that intensity. He may get there someday. But not tonight. I have practiced enough tantric sex and know enough ways to psyche myself out, that I can either extend or shorten the time to The Big Spray. I may have to get myself there a bit faster tonight, help out my newbie brother. I look at my cute 19 year old, eagerly sucking his first cock, his body discovering that this taboo thing he's been afraid of doesn't make him feel weak and girly at all, but is instead awakening a masculine hunger that is aggressive and raunchy. He's already moderating the pressure he uses to suck, learning that not every moment of sucking cock is the same. Good. Easier to train that way. I watch his adam's apple bob and I push deeper into his throat just to hear him gag and recover. It won't take long now. Hearing him gag, his eagerness to carry on despite that, his deep hunger to serve this dick of mine, his need to communicate to me, to make sure I understand that this really matters to him. Yup. Mark's about to get a mouthful of sperm. I clutch his head with both hands and force him to look up. His eyes are watering a little bit and he's beginning to enter a suck daze, the rhythm and beautiful repetition of loving motion. He's adorable. My virgin to sucking cock. Mark who has never had a mouthful of sperm. And so I juice him. My nut pours out of my cock in long ropey strands, splashing his tonsils and then spraying wildly around the inside of his mouth, frosting every tooth and snowing his tongue. Mark's eyes are wide open, staring into mine as I continue to throat growl, staring into his face and fucking his throat at last, fucking him deep as he stares up at me and a fat tear leaks from the outside of his eye. I nut a little more – a few more brothersperms ejaculate over his tongue. "Swallow." I gasp. "Swallow." Mark chins down, faces the front of my body and I hear his loud gulp. His body jolts in surprise and I know that he has fallen in love with sucking cock and its sticky reward. My cock is still in his mouth and he's swallowing a second mouthful, rounding up the last of the nut juice and forcing it to his belly. I grab him under his arms and yank him to his feet. He stumbles to regain ground. My sperm is splattered around his mouth. "Wow...What...?" he gasps. But I don't let him finish. With my left hand I clamp the back of his neck. With my right I grab and ass cheek and slam him into my body. I jam my tongue into his throat and he feebly sucks it. He's dazed and still gasping for air while I kiss him hard, tasting his scent, pizza, and my sperm. He may pass out soon. So I stop and hold him against my chest as he gasps and trembles. "Holy shit." He says, "Holy shit holy shit." I pull him a step back from me and grab the mesh T-shirt with my big meaty hands. I rip the shirt off him, tearing it off his body in two pieces. He staggers from being tugged in different directions and his eyes open wide. He sees the look in my eyes. "OH!" he cries. "Oh my god!" I push him back onto the bed and he bounces straight up. His eyes are wild and he's really fucking confused. Perfect. I grab his jeans and within seconds they're around his knees. A deep, guttural snarl comes ripping out of me and he scoots back on the bed. "SHIT!" he cries and scoots back further. I pull down the jockstrap and there is his brownish cock, six and a half inches, and bobbing wildly. I devour it. I'm at the base instantly, my tongue landing on his nuts. "OH MY GOD!" He screams. "OH MY GOD!" This is going to be too easy. It's only about 9 strokes before his hands find the back of my head. He whimpers, growls and moans, one sound following the next. He can't fight it; he didn't even see it coming until it's already here. "OH GOOOOOOOD!" He screams. And then he bucks. And then Marky's cream hits my throat. I gulp it down, most of it at least. He pulses out a good six shots of it, which caused him to jerk with each shot. What a twitchy little fucker he is! He's babbling words, weird mixtures of swearing and god references, and though his mind doesn't know what he's doing, when he finds me climbing up his body, towards his mouth, his hand reaches out for my shoulder. "Oh my god," He says as my mouth reaches his. His eyes are fluttering closed and he can feel my warm breath next to him. His hand is brushing strokes on my shoulder, right over one of my tattoos. "I never...never..." he whispers. My lips touch his and he kisses me a little, numbly, insensibly. He doesn't know what's happening. I slip my tongue into his mouth and he accepts, welcomes it, gripping his free arm around my back. Then his mouth foods with sperm and he suddenly understands my silence. My Marky is too far along the path for this to be a true surprise to him or to repulse him. He's over that phase. He accepts the warm cum and we eagerly share it back and forth. His eyes open and see me grinning at him, frothy juice dangling off my lip. He arises from his stupor and kisses me very seriously. There isn't enough cum to play for long and we're back to sucking each other's face, which is good enough for me. "I can't take this." He says to me between kisses. "This is too much. It's too much." "Uh huh." I say to him. "That's a shame. You're probably not gonna like what happens next." His eyes pop open and search me for a clue. I reveal nothing. I kiss his lips, those puffy sore lips, and it's a new exquisite sensation for him. "You want that plug out now?" "OH God yeah, I do." He replies eagerly. "Totally." I get off the bed and strip fully. He watches me, his features softening into contentment and a drowsy post-cum sensation. I remove his shoes, his pants, his socks. Gently guide him to his stomach. He arches his ass up, convinced this will only take a second. I lick around the black knob protruding from my guy's butt, tasting Mark's unique sweaty taste – that young guy flavor – and my sperm. He does not expect this, so his body arches a little bit. Stiffens. I continue licking the area, rubbing my goatee around his sensitive ass. I take delight in remembering this virgin butt got fucked for the first time a few hours ago. First time. I decanter; slowly remove the plug. Mark gasps as the pressure is released. "Uh oh." He says, and he doesn't know why. I dive in. My tongue easily opens his anus and licks into the sticky reward within. "Oh my god," Mark moans once he realizes my intention. "You can't do this...you..." I continue devouring his butt, slurping out long strands of my own jizz, sperm which has been marinating and mixing in his own sweat, his own ass juice. I attack his butt like a pig at a trough, rutting deeper, grunting, making wet slapping sounds. Whenever I find a small pool leaking out his butt and capture it before it can reach his nuts. It's luke warm, this juice, and even though it's my sperm, it now tastes almost entirely like him. Well, a kind of nutty-flavored him. With each deep lap up his ass crack and into his butt, he keeps saying, "Oh!" in these short bursts, like each one is an orgasm in itself. This only makes me dig deeper into his butt. My face is smeared, sticky and I'm panting from my exertions, and he's Twitchy Guy, possibly feeling a little crazy by all the myriad sensations that keep pounding through his veins in the last few hours. I turn him over and slurp his cock into his mouth. In one fell swoop he's entirely engulfed and his balls are getting my spit shine. He gasps quietly, all his noise used up for one night. I suck him steadily and hungrily, letting a loud wet slurp escape my mouth every now and then. It has the desired effect. "No, no, no..." he protests as his toes start curling. Damn. That didn't take long. Who knows how many he's capable of. Certainly, he doesn't know. "I can't, I can't..." he argues as his knees jerk wildly. I'd better watch myself or I'm gonna end up with a black eye. "No my god! NO, my god!" he grits his teeth and throws his head back hard. I milk him over the top and dispatch of the few spurts he's got left. When I'm sure that he can't stand my mouth on his dick a second later – convinced by his thrashing and high-pitched yelps he'll start bawling in about 8 seconds - I release him. I crawl to the pillow and flop onto my back, arms behind my head. Though drained and limp, he instinctively drags himself to my chest and fits himself around me. `That's my boy` I want to say aloud, but my mouth feels exhausted. A few minutes later, when he can breathe again, he half-rises, drunkenly, and grabs the cheap blankets to pull up around us. It's not that the evening is chilly, but we need to be cocooned from the world, this night, just me and him, with our heat, spent lust, and sticky, drained bodies. We need to mold to one another. This night is ours. He needs rest. After all, tomorrow is a big day for my Marky. "What the hell was that?" He says and I can feel his tired smile on my chest. "That was fucking insane. You're crazy." "That," I tell him, "was Number Four." "Uh?" he mutters. "Don't ever tell me how many orgasms you have inside you. Understand?" "Yes, Sir." He says happily, sleepily. "I'll let you know when you're done." A big yawn escapes me. "Uh huh." His mouth is slack jawed and he is losing consciousness. I rouse a little. "Hey, Marky, maybe I could tease Number Five out of you tonight. It has been almost two hours since you were last fucked..." He moans softly. "Please...no more tonight...please don't make me beg ...for...sleep." A chuckle that passes through me gently shakes his whole body. He is radiating warmth and I can feel his rhythmic breathing begin to deepen. "I think maybe," he murmurs, "you might be trying to kill me." "No, Marky." I whisper. "I'm trying to bring you to life." ****** Feedback welcome and appreciated mpls_ted@yahoo.com