Date: Fri, 8 Jan 2010 16:37:53 -0800 (PST) From: Peder Pederson Subject: Confessions on a Saturday: Chapter Four & Five Chapter Four The Desert and the Oasis I waited Sunday and all day Monday for a call from Imran. It did not come. Finally, on Tuesday I called him. "Hello." "Hi, Imran, it's me. I need to talk to you. Are you busy?" "Actually. I am quite busy." "OK, call me when you have some free time." "OK." And that was that! The rest of the week I waited for his call. It never came. I went to the Student Cafe at least twice a day--once in the morning and once in the afternoon--but he was never there. Saturday night I called again, but there was no answer. To be frank, I was miserable. I missed Imran. Not just the great sex, I missed him! I missed talking to him, I missed eating with him. I missed laughing with him, and I missed sitting quietly with him as we watched TV. I guess I knew what had upset Imran. But it was really nothing, just a quick fuck and not an iota of emotional attachment. Yet, if he said he trusted me, he should have know that it was nothing. We had made no real commitment to exclusivity, yet I guess that over the months it had been implied. Then, the more I thought of it, the angrier I got. Why should my action have upset him so much? Why should I be so bothered cause he has avoided me? "Fuck it!" I numbly drove to the Obelisk, paid my fee, went to my room, stripped and walked to the steam room! I sat on the middle bench and draped my towel over my lap and looked around. Five other guys were sitting an various levels, two of them were fondling their hard cocks. I started to get erect and slipped my hand under the towel and played with my cock. Soon it was hard. A guy on the lower level and to my right moved towards me til his arm grazed my leg. I felt his fingers moving up the inner part of my calf and then my thigh. I spread my legs and continued to play with myself. He fondled my balls and then replaced my hand with his on my throbbing cock. He kneeled in front of me, between my legs, lifted my towel and started to suck my cock. He wasn't very good. After two minutes, I got up and left the steam room still hard. My towel was still tented as I walked into the TV room and sat on the upper tier. I glanced over to one guy who was standing on the second level. He was being serviced by two guys--one kneeling in front of him bobbing on and off his impressive cock and the second stood behind him, fingering his ass and rubbing his cock against the guy's firm ass cheeks. I guess he was soon going to slide his cock into that deep crack and enter that tight opening. I whipped my towel off and my hard, uncut cock. That gained some attention `cause a young Hispanic dude moved next to me, wrapped his fingers around my hard dick. Slowly he began to move his hand up and down. My glistening cock head was exposed and then slipped back into its hood by the up and down motion of his clutching fingers. Within a minute this guy one level down, about my age, moved over, gently spread my legs apart, lowered his head and began to lick my balls. That felt good! I scooted my ass forward to the edge, leaned back and prepared to enjoy myself. Soon my ball `licker' moved behind my balls and tongued that most sensitive area between my balls and ass hole. "Ahhhh!" My low groan must have triggered the Hispanic's libido `cause he lowered his head and began to suck my exposed cock head. "Ahhhh!" I groaned again as my tight pucker was now being assaulted. I lifted my right leg and set my foot on the level where I was reclining, reached around and pulled on my right cheek, exposing my tight pucker. His tongue did the rest. There I reclined, tongue fucked by one guy and sucked by another. Our threesome gained a small audience, most of whom were jacking off as they watched. The three-way became a four-way as a muscular black guy stepped up to the top level and squatted down, dangling his twitching cock in front of my face. I opened my mouth and sucked this nice long, but not terribly thick dick into my throat. Within minutes I shot my load. Quietly, I disengaged myself and walked to the shower. I stood under the shower for at least ten minutes, reveling in the feeling of the hot water flowing across my body. The steam room was my next stop. I walked in, not removing the towel which I had wrapped `bout my waist, sat on the lower step, elbows on my knees and head in my hands. My position was such as to discourage any attention as I sat there for a full half hour. There was the normal amount of cock sucking and ass fucking going on, but it interested me not as I sat in that steamy miasma. I glanced at my hands, my palms and finger tips were wrinkling. "Been in here long enough," I said to myself, stood, adjusted the towel and went out into the cooler world. Walking by the door to the orgy room my attention was drawn to this guy standing there. He was probably a university student, and by the looks of his body, an athlete of sorts, maybe a swimmer. He caught my eye, winked, licked his lips and stepped back into the semi darkness. My cock gave a little twitch. "Why not?" I muttered and followed him into the center of the room. He had draped his towel about his neck and I followed suit. Our cocks were exposed and fully erect, beckoning each other to sample their passion. Reaching for by burgeoning cock, he whispered in my ear, "Saw you in the TV room . . . nice cock!" Quickly, his wrapped fingers brought my swelling dick to full flower. His hand, covered in a thick lube moved effortlessly up and down my turgid rod creating a hot sensation. I reached down to my cock, gathered a bit of that lube on my finger and brought it to my nose. I detected the sweet and distinct odor of honey! I had read somewhere that honey was a marvelous lubricant. It's hypo allergenic and although it lubricates, it also offers a bit of resistance, increasing it's erotic employment. "Guess I will soon find out!" I said to myself. Deftly he held my cock, turned around, bent forward, positioned my cock and backed on to it, encasing my throbbing, tumid love muscle securely in his hot, quivering hole. I reached down and grasped his firm, muscular globes. "Well, that was slick," I said to myself as I began to probe his depths. It felt wonderful. Truly it must be the honey that elicited that fantastic sensation as I slowly moved in and out of that luxurious, clutching tunnel. A pair of warm hands came to rest on my waist, and, "I loved the way you sucked my cock in the TV room! Now, can I sample your hole?" was whispered into my ear. I looked over my shoulder and into the eyes of the muscular black guy with the long, thin cock. "Sure. Do you have some lube?" "I come prepared." I felt his finger slip into my crack, depositing a dollop of lube on my puckered bud before sliding in. "Ahhhh," I groaned as I entered deeply and was, in turn, deeply entered. Soon I felt a second finger and the two scissored in and out, opening my tight pucker. Momentarily, his hard knob pressed against my worked bud and then it popped into me. Slowly he continued his entry, aided by my flexing hips as I fucked that honeyed hole in front of me. It was a delicious sensation as I buried my cock again and again into that sweet, lubed hole and my love chamber was filled and then emptied, the workings of my thrusting hips. As I drew out of the honeyed ass, I was impaled by that long, dark rod, and vice versa. This was a first for me, and I found it truly beyond description. There must have been some unseen electronic hook up, because the three of us came within a few seconds of each other. "ARGGHHH!" Then, "ARGGHHH!" And, finally, "ARGGHHH!" in counterpoint. Heads within that darkened room swiveled to our location in wonder. The three of us went to the shower room and cleansed ourself. As before I stayed under the cleansing spray long minutes. I left the Obelisk and drove home, somewhat relaxed and somewhat sated. Yet a strange emptiness pervaded me. My two orgasms were all right, but nothing like those I had been experiencing for those past few months in either intensity or emotional depth. I went to bed and slipped into sleep, an empty sleep. It was nearly two weeks from THAT night, at about 10:00 on a Sunday morning when I tried to phone Imran, again. "Hello." It was Imran. "Hi. It's me. . . . Imran, before you hang up I just want you to know that I really miss you. Miss your presence." Then I asked, "Can we meet somewhere and talk?" There was a pause, then he stated, "I don't know. . . . I've been thinking a lot . . . . I don't know." Then he added, "I'll call you in a few days . . . really." "OK, I really hope you do." "I will," he stated, then, "Bye." "Bye," I said then he hung up. I was heartened by Imran's declaration, and for the next few days I waited for his call. Each day that he didn't phone, I became a little more down. Then Thursday the phone rang. I snatched up the receiver after the first ring. "Hello." "Hi, it's me," Imran announced "Hi, I'm so glad you called." There were a few seconds of silence. "Are you still there," I asked, anxiously. "Yeah," came his answer, then, "Can we meet somewhere and talk?" "Sure," I said, heartened, then added, "When?" "How about tomorrow?" "OK. What time?" "In the afternoon?" "How about we meet at IHOP, about 4:00?" "Sure, OK. See you." "OK. Til then." Friday I arrived at IHOP at 3:45 and got a booth in the corner, away from the windows. Luckily it wasn't crowded. Friday afternoons there are not so busy, and it was a neutral public place. I sipped a cup of awful coffee as I waited. At precisely 4:00 Imran came through the door, looked around, caught my wave and slipped into the booth across from me. "Hi." "Hi," I answered, "How you been?" "OK," came the simple answer, "And you?" "Oh, OK, too. A bit down, a bit lonely . . . . I've missed you Imran." He stared intently into my eyes and said nothing. The waitress came, we ordered and waited silently for our food to be served. We both started to speak at the same time. "Sorry," I nodded my head, "What were you going to say?" "I missed you too. But, you hurt me so much . . . ." "Imran . . . that was nothing . . . . " "I don't care! It hurt me . . . it hurt me so much. I felt violated. You must have known how I felt about you." "Felt?" I asked. He looked up into my face understanding the implication. "I don't know . . . guess . . . I still feel . . . ." Then, "Prof, you introduced me to things I never had contemplated in my life. You led me down paths I would have never considered. I accepted those things, I followed you willingly. But it was you . . . the things YOU introduced to me, the paths that YOU showed me." He stopped, toyed with his food and considered his next statement. "Oh, I loved . . . the sex. I loved how you made me feel. I loved making you feel part of what I was feeling. But, it was you." Again he stopped, considered. Imran was not only a feeling person, he was a thinking person. I guess that's part of what drew me to him. "That place . . . that place . . . bothered me. And when . . . I was groped, I was sickened. Meaningless, . . . gratuitous, . . . wanton, . . . nonessential coupling! That first time in your apartment, I allowed it, I gave myself. I had a choice and I choose to allow it. But it was a conscious choice, a considered choice. There . . . ANIMALS, it was like a pack of rutting animals. . . . no consideration, no thought, no attachment. When we have sex . . . it's different . . . . It's meaningful!" Imran then looked straight at me and declared slowly, "Prof, I was falling in love with you." Quickly I responded, "Me too!" He stared at me after that simple admission. But, I was dismayed `cause we spoke in the past tense! "Imran, you must know, you've got to know, to understand that I would consciously never do anything to hurt you." He started to reply, but I raised my hand, "Let me say something." He gave me his complete attention. "The human being has various needs. Some more paramount than others. Most human need to connect with another human being. Some times it may just be friendship. Other times it may entail more. One of the needs that we humans have is food. When we are hungry, we need to eat. There is nothing so marvelous as sitting down with someone you are fond of to a delicious, carefully prepared meal, especially when it is in an atmosphere that shows concern, and . . . love . . . candles, soft music, linen napkins . . . the whole works. It becomes special, memorable and immanently satisfying. But, Imran, there are times that you are just famished. You wolf down a hamburger with scores of other people in a tastelessly decorated shop. It certainly is not memorable, but it satisfies an immediate need." In the months that we have been seeing each other, we have become attached in many ways. I am attached to your laugh, your presence, your wit, your mind, and, yes, your body. But our infatuation with each other masked a deeper attachment." What I did that night at the Obelisk, I didn't have to do. I just did it. Had I know how you might have felt about it, I would not have done it. No problem there." I would like to reestablish what we had together. But if we do, I think that we should do it consciously and agree to certain arrangements, understandings. Monogamy would be one of those understandings." Imran, I was, and still am falling in love with you. I didn't know it a couple of weeks ago, but our separation has made it abundantly clear. I hope that we can continue." We sat silently finishing what was left on our plates. He looked up at me and calmly said, "I gotta go, Prof." "OK." "See you." "OK." I drove back to the apartment in a state of suspended animation. I understood how Imran felt, especially seeing me fucking that guy at the Obelisk. But I had never considered the exclusivity of sex as a paramount issue. Sex was sex and often completely devoid of any emotional attachment. Sometimes quick sex and a `MacD' were on the same level in my lexicon. They both temporarily satisfying an immediate need. But, obviously, Imran felt different. If I wanted that association to continue, I must accommodate that. And, I realized that I was willing to make that accommodation. Saturday morning I was sitting having my second cup of coffee when my doorbell rang. I looked through the peep hole and saw Imran and flung the door open. His eyes bulged imperceptibly then smiled as he saw me standing there nude. "Come in, come in," I said happily. "Still wearing the same old outfit, I see!" he stated with a smirk. "Yeah, low maintenance, but I'll change," came my retort. "Don't have to change for me. I've sorta gotten used to it." I wanted to kiss him, but instead ran to my bedroom and put on my Bali robe, for the second time since I bought it. Returning to the living room where Imran was sitting on the sofa, I asked, "Coffee?" "Yeah, sure." Running to the kitchen I filled a mug and returned handing it to Imran. "I'm so happy to see you here," then I stuttered, " Can . . . I give . . . you a . . . kiss?" Imran just smiled. I leaned over and laid a chaste kiss on his cheek. He smiled again. "What brings you here?" I was nervous. I was tense. I was happy. "Well . . . partially how I feel . . . and partially, what you said yesterday." "I said a lot yesterday. But, you know me . . . when I get a bit nervous or stressed out I babble a lot." "Well, particularly when you said to me `I was, and still am falling in love with you.`" I nodded my head in assent, "That's true." ` "Why didn't you tell me before?" "Guess I wasn't aware of my feelings before." We sat observing each other deeply and in silence. "I hope you don't want to end it . . . our . . . relationship!" "No. I don't," he murmured, "But, I think we need to arrive at an understanding." Here he was, a neophyte to same sex relations, and he was the one who was ploughing the path for our future, if there was to be a future. "OK." "For me, . . . if I'm going to have sex . . . with another guy, it will be only you. I'm simply not interested in a physical association with any another man!" I nodded my head. "I would hope that in time, you would feel the same." Again, I nodded my head. "What I have learned from you . . . what you have introduced me to . . . is exclusive. It's between us and I can NOT conceive of it happening between me and any other man." "OK, I understand." "And, I really don't feel that I have the right to demand exclusivity from you. But, if you feel the need, or find yourself in a situation where you want to be with another guy . . . even briefly . . . a one-time-only thing, don't let me know, please. If I ever found out . . . it would completely destroy what I feel for you, irrevocably." He sat back and gazed at me, relieved at laying bare his feelings. "Imran, I wish we had this discussion before. But, maybe the situation which precipitated this . . . this talk . . . may have benefits we never considered. Maybe it took this crisis to clarify our position . . . our situation." "Our relationship?" he asked quietly. "Our relationship. . . . Is this what you want, Imran? . . . a relationship?" "Yes," he whispered. "DONE!" I stated emphatically. "We have a relationship!" Tears flooded his eyes. He stood up, stepped over to me, bent down and kissed me on the lips. As I was about to probe his lips with my searching tongue, he drew back. "I gotta go . . . see you soon." And he quickly left leaving me in a state of incredulity. I sat there wondering, dazed, bewildered. About 5:00 my door bell rang. Again I looked through the peep hole. It was Imran, and just as quickly as I had done that morning, I flung opened the door. "Hi," he said as he stepped in, carrying his back pack. I closed the door and he hugged me, running his hands down my back and cupping my bare ass cheeks. I shuddered at his touch. He released me, stepped back and asked in a calm, matter of fact voice, "Can I have a glass of juice?" "Sure," I said as I headed for the kitchen, trembling a bit. When I returned to the living room with the juice, Imran had disappeared. "What now?" I thought. And, then he appeared from the hallway, nude. He obviously had gone to the bedroom and stripped. "Now we match!" he said with a broad grin. "You're going to give me a heart attacked!" I declared with a wide grin. "Mmmm, I really wanted to give you a `HARD attack!'" Setting the juice on the coffee table, I acknowledged, "That too!" I knelt before him and quickly sucked his dangling cock into my mouth. "Ohhh! I missed that so much!" "Mmmm," was all I could say, my mouth full of his swelling, big knobbed cock. I popped off, looked up into his glistening brown eyes, declaring, "And , this is where it's going to stay too . . . . in me!" I gobbled his burgeoning prick back into my throat. "Ahhhh!" came that moan that I had learned to love so much. "Ahhhh!" His knees began to buckle and as I followed his cock to the floor, Imran twisted around and I quickly felt his hot, moist lips pass over my swelling cock head. "Ahhhh!" We laid on the carpet, joyfully sucking each other's cock. Pulling off my now rigid pole, he looked at my cock filled mouth and declared in a passion tainted voice, "Oh, I love the feel of your cock in my mouth . . . your hard, uncut cock in my mouth and mine in yours!" And, he swallowed me again. That statement sent shivers up and down my spine. I assumed before that Imran had learned to enjoy sucking my cock, but he never verbalized it. If I had asked him if he liked the feel of my cock in his mouth, he would merely nod his head or state, simply, "Yeah." I have always loved, what is euphemistically called, `dirty talk' during sex. But `dirty talk' is hardly an apt description when you're telling the object of you affection how he (or she) is making you feel or what you are doing to them. Sex is the most sensual activity imaginable and it is heightened by the employment of all the senses--touch, taste, auditory smell and sight. Hearing how you are making your sex partner feel increases not only their passion, but yours as well. Nothing is more boring to me than silent sex. "Oh, and I, too, love the feel of your cock in MY mouth," I gasped. Then I asked, "Imran, watch me!" He pulled off my cock, raised his head and observed as I swirled my tongue around that bulbous cock head and then back and forth in his narrow piss slit. "Ahhhh!" Then I clamped that flaring head between my lips, suctioned and then forcibly pulled off with a juicy POP! "Ahhhh!" All the time my eyes were locked on his. "I love running my tongue `round that flaring knob of yours and feeling it in my throat!" Saying that I swallowed the whole length of his substantial dick. "Ahhhh!" he groaned. "You send me over the edge when you lick my cock . . . when you suck . . .my cock . . .that way! I love watching you suck my cock. I love seeing my cock in your mouth" With that he dropped back down to my wavering prick and ran his pointed tongue between the soft foreskin and the ruddy, swollen head. He pulled off and fondled my cock and balls. "I love playing with your cock." he said and then bent back to suck my dick, only to lift off again. "I love sucking your cock." Then his fingers played with my soft, elastic foreskin. "I love watching your foreskin slip on and off your red cock head." Then, "Oh! Prof! I love your cock!" For nearly an hour we laid there playing, sucking, stimulating each other's cock in many old ways we knew the other enjoyed, and even some new ways. We had elevated each other to the acme of luxurious eroticism. Our bodies twitched, spasmed, sweated and lurched as we manually and orally taunted each other's sensual instrument. I could take no more. I stood up, grabbed Imran's and quickly led him to the kitchen. There I grabbed a handful of soft butter and slathered over the length and breadth of his fuck pole and then anointed my pucker, forcibly shoving two fingers deep into me. Quickly, I turned to the sink, braced myself and rasped, "Fuck me! Fuck me Imran!" He stepped up to my proffered ass and unerringly guided his cock into my waiting love tunnel. There, in the kitchen, our love making was neither slow, nor easy, nor gentle. He pistoned my hole like a run-a-way locomotive, plumbing its depths again and again. He grunted "Humph! Humph! Humph! Humph!" and shoved, "Humph! Humph! Humph! Humph!" as I grunted "Humph! Humph! Humph!" and jacked my hard cock. We rutted in the kitchen. We fucked in the kitchen. We coupled in the kitchen like two, driven, primordial, mating beasts. Our orgasms were nearly simultaneous as we shouted our guttural release. "ARGHHHHH ARGHHHHH!" Quickly, when we were able, we walked down the hall to the shower. As we stepped in to the glass cubicle Imran chuckled. "What?" I asked. "I have melted butter running down my legs." I laughed, "Me too!" We showered, half dried ourselves and flopped on the bed, entangled and fell asleep. An hour later we both awoke, tenderly held and caressed each other. That match we held in the living room and kitchen was not the best sex we had to that point. But, it was the most frenetic, frantic, furious fucking we had ever indulged in. "That was pretty wild!" Imran observed. "Yeah, like two animals . . .two fuckin animals!" I stated. The parallel was not lost on Imran. He reached over and lightly pinched me in the side. "Did you think I was like an animal?" Imran asked, somewhat concerned. "Oh! Yeah!, But, then so was I." "Hmmm," then he added, "No kiddin, Prof, that was crazy sex! "Well if you like crazy sex, maybe we could try it in the elevator next time!" I said with a smirk. He reached over and pinched me in the side, hard this time. "OW! That hurt!" "It was supposed to!" and continued, "Don't forget I like good, hot vanilla sex . . . no kink!" "What's `kink?'" "I don't know, but I'll know it when I see it!" he said sleepily. We fell asleep. I awoke at about 6:00 pm, The sun was just above the horizon, I padded to the kitchen and decided to fix a `chef's salad' with some chicken, turkey ham, black olives--the whole works. As I was finishing, Imran walked into the kitchen. "Whatcha doin?" "Fixin something to eat you naked animal!" He slapped my bare ass. "Who's the naked animal?" he asked. As we were finishing our supper, I asked, quietly, "Imran, do you still think you love me?" Smiling, he answered, "Yeah, I do." "Do you love me enough to move in with me? I've got plenty of room here." "Only if you love me . . . ." "I wouldn't ask you to move in if I didn't love you." "OK," he answered simply. "But, you have to help with the dishes," I added with a grin. "I knew there was a downside to your offer," he laughed. We did the dishes together, chatting away, went into the living room and watched the news, before we went to bed. When I came out of the bath room after brushing my teeth, Imran was on the bed, legs stretched apart and fondling his swelling cock. "What are toy doing, you animal?" I said as I crawled up between his thighs. "Did I get your attention? "Damned right you did!" "Then take my place and do what I was doing." "Is this going to be kinky?" I asked. "Don't think so." Imran rolled off the bed and I took his place. He stood at the foot of the bed and watched me fondle my self, sliding my foreskin up and down. "Damn! You look so sexy," he said watching me and jerking his now hard cock. He crawled up between my legs, grasped my raging cock and took half of it in his mouth. "Ahhhh!" I moaned. Slowly his pistoned up and down my cock, taking more and more into his mouth with each descending movement. Pulling off, he stated, "Oh! I really love sucking your cock and hearing you moan." Saying that, he went down on my cock and moved his finger to my pucker. I was instantly aware that at some time he had lubed his finger. At one point he went all the way down on my cock and simultaneously slipped his finger deep into me. "OH! GAWD," I uttered, loudly. I was nearing the edge, and by now Imran could detect the telltale signs. He lifted off my cock and slipped his finger from my hole. I was prepared to take his inflexible fuck staff into me. However, instead of lifting my ankles to his shoulders, he drew my legs together and crabbed up to my hips, straddling them. "What are you doing,?" I gasped. "I'm going to fuck your cock, my love." "But, you don't have to!" "I know, but I'm going to anyway." He grabbed the K-Y from under the pillow and slathered my twitching cock with its slippery contents. Then he reached behind and readied himself. I knew he wasn't preparing himself adequately. I wasn't small and the penetration of my turgid pole into his virgin pucker could be awfully painful and traumatic. "Here, let me help. I don't want to hurt you." I took the K-Y, squeezed a dollop on my finger, "Now straddle my chest." He crawled up, straddled my chest, his cock waved in front of my mouth, I sucked it in as I rubbed the K-Y over his tight, virgin pucker. Imran groaned as I gently slid one finger into him. I fingered his ass while he fucked my mouth, groaning from the sensations of both actions. When I detected that his sphincter had relaxed somewhat, I slid in a second finger. That causes Imran to arch his back, throw his head back and push against my fucking fingers. As I pushed in, he began to thrust his hips back. "Ahhhh!" he groaned when the third finger found its way carefully into his expanding hole. "You OK?" I asked. "Yeah." I began to sense that his sphincter was relaxing more when he shifted backwards, dislodging my fingers, grabbing my lubed cock, positioned it against his fingered hole and bore down. My cock head POPPED in, and Imran gasped, closed his eyes, clenched his fists and froze. "Take it easy, Imran. You don't have to do this!" "I want to," he hissed between clenched teeth. "Then take deep breaths, Imran, breath deeply! He did and in a few moments I heard his regular breathing return and a relaxation in his tense limbs. "Just relax and wait, my love," I whispered. He opened his eyes and smiled. "You're in me!" and he bore down a bit and hesitated and bore down some more. "You OK?" "Yes." "How do you feel? "Stuffed!" I smiled, "A cock in your ass the first few times has a tendency to make you feel that way." Slowly he lifted up a bit and then bore down all the way. "Ahhhh!" we both groaned. Then again he moved up and down, and again and again before he rested a bit. He leaned over and planted a passionate, probing kiss on my mouth. "Why didn't you tell me before how wonderful this feels?" he gasped. "Thought you could tell by my reaction when you fucked me!" "Yeah, but . . . WOW!" He started fucking my cock slow and easy. We both moaned in delight. I then squeezed some K-Y into my palm, grasped his rigid cock and `corkscrewed' my hand up and down it considerable length. "Allahmah," he gasped as I paid particular attention to his swollen knob. He moved up and down faster and I jacked his cock in time with his thrusts! Suddenly he gasped, "Ahhhh!" And, I felt his body tensing up. I began to thrust upwards with his downward movements. Suddenly I felt his sphincter twitch `bout my impaling cock. "ARGHHHHH!" he yelled and jet after jet of his opalescent joy juice shot upwards from his clutched cock and spattered over my chest, arms and face. His spasming love tunnel sent me quickly over the edge. "Ahhhh!" I heaved in delight as I unloaded deep in his glorious hole. Our athletic love dance slowed to a stop. Imran sighed and lay on my cum spattered chest, still panting. I wrapped my arms around him in sated satisfaction. "I love you, Imran," I whispered in his ear. He raised his head, "I love you too." After a brief sleep, I awoke, moved a bit and my soft cocked slipped out of that luscious fuck tunnel. "Hmmm," Imran moaned at the loss and raised up. "I need to shower," I admitted quietly. "Me too," he started to raise up, stop and looked at me, "I can't move . . . . i'm cum stuck to you!" and laughed. I playfully slapped his ass and we both rolled off the bed together. Chapter Five Confessions A week later, Imran and I laid in our bed. We had just taken a shower, an amazing shower. We were playing a bit when he turned around and rubbed his firm, muscular ass against my hard cock. "What are you doing?" "Trying to horn you up til you bury that fabulous cock of yours in my hole.! "KINKY!" I shouted. "Yeah the kind of kink I can go for right now." And, I did. And, he took it. We had a week's practice fucking each other and he had learned to relax himself. And, he loved it. And, I loved it too! "Ya know? Almost a year ago I never would've guessed I would have let a guy suck my cock, and now here I am nestled up to the same guy who just fucked my ass, and I loved it!" "Ya know? Almost a year ago I never would've guessed I would take a student who was fifteen years younger than me to my place and suck his cock and then proceed to fall in love with him." "Ya know? Almost a year ago I never would've guessed that I would comfortably walk around a guys place bare assed naked . . . . oops! sorry . . . nude, and not feel the least bit shy." "Ya know? Almost a year ago I never would've guessed I'd do what I'm about to do now!" "What are you talking about?" Imran asked a bit perplexed. "This!" I moved down between his legs and started to lick his cock and balls. "Oh! Geese, I love that!" In short seconds his cock lifted it considerable helmeted head and stood tall and proud, a beacon of lust and love. "Look at that beautiful cock," I said and started to suck it with all the vigor I possessed. "Oh! Allahmah, how your mouth feels on my cock!" I learned that Imran loved the feel of his cock buried in my throat while my tongued snaked out and licked that part of his ball sac I could reach. "I love your balls, so smooth, hanging down," as I took one then the other in my mouth and massaged them with my tongue. "Oh! I love too!" I lifted his pendulous sac and licked that sensitive spot just behind them. "Ahhhh!" I have always prided myself with my oral skills. I know that there are those who are better than I. If there are master suckers, then I'm a minor master. Time after time I have brought Imran to a screaming orgasm while sucking him. As a former top, an inveterate top, I now must describe myself as a versa top--certainly as far as Imran is concerned. Yet in all the contacts I have had before this marvelous man, I never indulged in anilingus, rimming. Oh, I loved it the first time I was rimmed, and all the times since then. But, I never felt the urge to perform that erotic stimulation on another person--man or woman. But, Imran freely gave me his virgin cock to suck. He passionately, with a bit of coaching, fucked me admirably the first time, a virgin fuck. And, over a weeks ago he offered me his virgin ass. I grabbed Imran behind the knees and pushed his thighs against his torso. I held them there and bent down and snaked my tongue over his smooth, closed pucker. "Ahhhh!" Imran gasped. "What are you doing?" "Hold your legs," I commanded and again licked over his bud, then traced my tongue around it. "Allahmah,!" he gasped, and involuntarily spread his thighs apart giving me unimpeded access. Placing my thumbs on either side of his puckered bud, I spread it open. Then I slid my tongue into that pink opening and tongue fucked his hole. For five or ten minutes I assaulted his twitching, convulsing hole. Imran was transported into a quivering, gasping, eroticized mass. I slid my finger into that now slack opening, lubed by my saliva and finger-fucked his ass. "Ahhhh! Ahhhh! Ahhhh!" he gasped. "Do you like me finger fucking your ass?" "Oh! Yes!" "Did you like it when I tongued your ass hole?" "Yes!" "Which did you like better?" Breathlessly, forcefully, he commanded, "I want you to fuck me! Fuck me with your hard cock!" I released his thighs, crawled forward, centered my cock head on that loosened hole and slid it all the way in! "AHHHHHH! Yes!" And, I fucked him with all the passion I had. And, he responded with all the passion he had. My orgasm . . . how to explain it? My whole body feels warm, beautifully alive, sensually pulsing. From deep, deep inside, centered somewhere between my cock and my ass-hole, a tingling sensation begins to mount. Rapidly it infuses and insinuates itself throughout my whole body growing, growing leading on, all consuming towards that edge between pain and pleasure. Firing every nerve ending with screaming sensitivity--centering, finally in my expanding cock it is released with such suddenness--milky love juices jet forth in shock-rhythm, flooding, spattering, spewing--my whole body is wracked with ejaculating convulsions. More pearly, lustrous fluid shoots from my small orifice. The release, causing me to utter uncontrollable shouts, not unlike the sensation when a knife cuts the finger, the sudden nerve-jerking realization before the pain. Creamy, viscous juices continue to jet forth. The French call it the petit mort, the "little death." My spine flexes in involuntary archings, jolting my body, convulsing my whole being. Additional cloudy fluids issues less forcefully from the little slit. Muscles flex and reflex, at first uncontrollably, then lessen in intensity. Finally, everything relaxes. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - We will be celebrating our twentieth anniversary next Saturday. When we make love, which is not as often or quite a frenetic as when we first met, I love it most when Imran repeatedly pops his bulbous head in and out of my pucker and then in one inexorable movement shoves it all the way in! It's glorious! And, he adores it when I tongue his puckered bud `til he's a writhing animal and then slide my hard dick into his saliva lubed love tunnel all the way! There are even times when out of the blue, he comes up behind me, wraps his arms about my waist, fondles my cock til it's hard, then turns me around, bends over and commands, "Fuck me." Truth be told, I do the same thing to him, It's our form of `kink.' We still are nude in our home, except when friends visit us. One other small confession, we promised each other that when we had a disagreement or fight we would not go to sleep until we resolved the problem. So far that has worked. Saturday's child works hard!