Date: Tue, 4 Feb 2014 20:04:54 -0500 From: Mads van Duessen Subject: Gym Stretch 08 Hope you enjoy reading my stories. If you do enjoy these types of stories and the convenience of entertaining yourself with a few clicks, PLEASE donate to nifty.org using this URL/link http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Part 8 – Gym Stretch I awoke to an aching soreness in my ass, a very urgent need to piss along with a raing pee hardon and a moment's unawareness of where I was. Big muscular furry arms around me though – one under my head, an amazing pillow, and one over my side, his big hand flat and firm on my abs – immediately snapped me to memory of Jack and the exquisite reasons for the PAIN in my ass. His very light snoring and hot even breaths on my neck made my nuts ignite . . . again. But I REALLY had to piss. As carefully and as slowly as I could stand, given my urgent need, I unwrapped myself from Jack's warm safe arms and inched across the big bed to the other side. Jack gave a faint whimper as I'd undone myself, but he hadn't awakened and was still again as I made my way across. The dimmest of lights lit the floor as my feet touched it, and I could see to get to the closet room, then the same happened as I went in there and again when I got to the bathroom. Cool toys, but I didn't think much about them, concentrating on being quiet but getting to the toilet room to piss. I was still raging hard, my cock swinging in front of me as I stepped on through the bathroom, by then equal parts the images of Jack fucking me silly the night before and also still my urgent need to piss. When I got to the toilet room I suddenly remembered the urinal, and sure enough, when the dim light lit in the baseboard as I walked in, there it was. MUCH easier to just stand and piss with a hardon than trying to navigate the toilet! I got there and let go with my stream immediately – I probably had only another second or so until I passed critical and made a mess anyway. It flowed and flowed out of me, my hardon notwithstanding, and I couldn't really remember having drank that much. When I was finally done I washed as quietly as I could and made my way back with the help of the sensored floor lights. I gently crawled onto and across the bed, and I settled my length behind Jack, who was now facing his edge of the bed. I very carefully moved my left arm under his head and pillow at his neck and was getting my hand over his shoulder and down his chest, my other hand on his side, ready to reach over his abs like he had me. He startled me a bit by taking both of my hands in his, pulling me around him tight and hugging my arm over his side and my hand across his chest. I relaxed into him, enjoying him, wondering who I was and what he'd done with the Mads who NEVER slept with a man who'd fucked him, never hung around, never, never, never . . . His return to light, rhythmic snores was all I heard after that. I awoke slowly. I had a complete awareness of being in Jack's bed – strange as it might seem, his scent was absolutely recognizable to me as I came to consciousness. Problem was, he wasn't in my arms, nor was I in his. I was clearly alone in his bed. I looked about the dark room, but I saw half-moons of light on the carpet under the heavy drapes and knew it was well into morning by the brightness. I also vaguely smelled coffee . . . which was like a beacon. I got myself moving and got out of the bed and found a clock display I'd seen for the first time in the middle of the night when I'd gone to pee and had seen it was then three forty-two. It was now ten fifty! I got my feet on the floor and saw the boxers and t-shirt he'd given me to wear on the floor by the side of the bed. I bent down to get them to put them on but caught a whiff of myself and knew a shower was in the works for me. But I also got a whiff of the sheets, and although the scent of our sex and, particularly, of Jack was tantalizing, I knew the bed needed changing. I pulled that side's bottom sheet corner up off the mattress at the head of the bed, and I got the foot of the bed's sheets and blanket pulled up. And, like I sometimes do at home on my own king-sized bed, I crawled onto the bed and reached across to pull the opposite corners free so I could ball it all up and get it to the laundry. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh fffffffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk, that's an amazing sight," Jack growled slowly from behind me. I was on all fours on the bed, having scooted back close to the side, about to pull all the bedding off when I heard him. And then I heard him behind me, coming into the bedroom, and then right behind me. His big hands were on my ass, rubbing my assglobes gently, and then my thighs too, and I was moving into him, my head now low to the bed, my ass way up. "You have no fucking idea what the sight of you like this does to me, Mads, what the feel of you does to me," he said, and then he was against me, his hardon pressed HARD against my thigh and buttcheek through his own boxers. I needed him RIGHT THEN. I let him know by reaching back and through my legs, got my hand up his boxers and took a good grip on his big hairy hanging nuts and PULLED him into me tighter. "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" he exclaimed, shoving himself into me harder than I'd yanked his sac. His hands were on my waist then, and he was grinding into me. "I don't want to hurt you," he said. "You must be so—" I cut him off with a HARD yank to those cumtanks of his and said, "If you don't fuck me right fucking now I'll tackle you to the ground and rape your cock!" He ground into me again after I'd pulled him into me, boxers still in place, and I was thinking I might have to make good on my threat. "Mads, your ass has to be—" "GOD DAMMIT, JACK!" I yelled. "My ASS has to be FILLED with your COCK . . . NOW, JACK, PLEASE!" Apparently Jack's reticence was gone, based on his loud growl and the drawer slamming open and the lube cap popping. His boxers were down faster than I could get my hand away, and I felt the lube cold dripping down my ass-crack and onto my SORE but VERY NEEDY hole. And I heard the most wonderful sound in the world as I got my hand out of those boxers and let them fall – the sounds of the smacking of lube being stroked onto a hard cock fast and hard. And then his head was at my entrance. That was when Jack hesitated, and he very gently rubbed his cockhead against my sore, swollen asslips, pushing only very slightly. But I was having none of that. When his head was lined up, I SHOVED myself BACK onto him HARD, at the same time as I'd reached back and grabbed one of his thighs and pulled him into me. "JUST." FUCKING. FUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK. MEEEEEEE!" I growled and hissed through the pain, and to make sure he wasn't unclear, I pulled forward to where his huge plum of a cockhead was stretching my hole open but not quite out and then SHOVED myself back onto him again and ground myself into his pubes. That was all it took, and with a snarling growl, Jack GRABBED my waist and began FUCKING my ass . . . HARD . . . deep, long-dicking strokes like I liked it. The pain was overwhelming, but also it immediately went transcendent, and I was on those waves again, riding that cusp of pain and ecstasy. I fucked back into Jack HARD and ground into his groin with every shove backward as he slammed into me. I was milking his cock with my battered, overworked assmuscles, which seemed to not have notice the abuse they'd taken over the past seventeen or eighteen hours – who would fucking do math? The feel of Jack's big bull nuts slamming into my own was a heaven of its own, and I set my sights on the moment I'd force him into the oblivion of releasing this nutload in me again. "You fucking cockwhore, you fucking wanted this cock, now you're going to TAKE it," he was growling, along with various other terms of endearment which made my entire body spark with every hot word. "Just fucking USE that fucklog and FUCK me!" and "OH FUCK YES – DO IT! – FUCK MY ASS STUD!" were among my replies. I clenched and milked that cock with my cuntmuscles, variously getting growls, roars, whimpers and exclamations as I worked it inside me and matched him thrust for thrust. The sheets pulled up in a pile under me made for some uneasy footing – more accurately, hand and footing, given my position, ass far in the air, elbows on the bed, head scraping the pile of sheet under me – and I was gripping onto the mattress pad as he was gripping my waist to keep me in place. I loved every fucking minute of it, except that the leverage could have been better, so I reached back with one hand and got hold of his bag and had a forward and mid-range grips now. "FUCK YES!" he yelled into the air as I grabbed his hairy balls with a TIGHT grip, and his already-fast, HARD, DEEP thrusts went up a notch. "GOD YES – USE MY ASS JUST FUCKING LIKE THAT!" I yelled. And on we went, until I felt his nuts starting to get tight after I'd gone on a clenching/milking escalation that usually had any man blowing his nuts within seconds. I moved my ass just enough for his monster head to knock my pleasure point, both sending sparks skyrocketing through me and making me yell them out audibly. "AARRRRRRGGGGGGGHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" or something like that was my exclamation of the pleasure, as those sparks continued with his shaft massaging my prostate on the in-thrust and again on the out-stroke, his head in the right position to knock it again. "YEAH? You gonna show me how you like this cock?" he said, now aiming for my spot and SLAMMING it HARD and making me gasp and choke back screams of joy. I couldn't respond other than an attempt which became another long exclamation that came out as a prolonged moan, unintelligible, though clear in its meaning, as he SLAM-FUCKED me HARDER, and I yanked him into me HARDER every time by those tightening nuts. My own nuts were ignited and on countdown to blasting, and when he finally yelled, "OH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" in the longest, most plaintiff cry I'd heard from him, I felt that cock, thicker, harder, the head HUGE in my chute, begin to pulse just as my own balls exploded, and my first cumblast flew up my cock and out onto the sheet and my chin below me, matching his first hot wet STINGING shot DEEP INSIDE me. "OH FUCK YES FILL ME!" I cried, spasming, convulsing, thrashing on his cock like the bitch I am, nothing mattering but his essence filling me. As I got hold of myself I felt his legs shaky behind me, and I pulled myself PAINFULLY off his cock to a whimper from him which was nothing compared to the cry I stifled. I turned over and pulled him down with me, my arm around him as we both gasped for breath, our sweaty bodies tight together, his arm over and around me holding me just as tight as I was him. "God, Mads," he whispered. "You're half right," I joked, and he gasped a chuckle or two. "It felt like," he struggled through saying, but I quieted him. "Jack, relax for a minute with me. I'm loving it just being in each other's arms." He just nuzzled my neck and held me tight for a few minutes as our breathing went from gasping to panting to near normal. His hand had started rubbing my abs very gently, that thing he'd done before, which I realized I really, REALLY loved. We slowly moved to where he was still rubbing me oh-so-slightly, but he was up on his elbow looking at me. He brought his hand up to my chin and said, "Oh, there's the rest of it," laughing as he scraped some of my own cum off my stubbly chin and licking it off his finger afterward. "Mmmmmmm." "The rest?" I asked. "Yeah, what's not puddled underneath me. Nice job pulling me down into the wet spot, though – points for that!" he laughed and came in and kissed me. I hadn't realized it, but I needed the kiss as much as I needed the fuck. I held onto him and escalated what he'd started gently into a fiery tongue duel of renewed desire. We were clawing at each other again, and we were grinding into each other . . . and it was fucking awesome. Suddenly Jack pushed away and took a deep breath. "You're fucking amazing," he said, holding me firmly away from him with his big hand flat on my heaving chest. "Most of the time I get, `You're an amazing fuck', so thanks for the more expansive comment," I joked. Jack leaned in, and he put his forehead against mine. "You're a tough one, Mads," he said quietly. "Tough enough to take your Hulk-sized cock over and over again, almost as often as you're ready to give it, Mr. Torrance," I quipped back, and I reached down and gave his still-hard or again-hard cock a squeeze. HE was the amazing one – what a fucking stud . . . right then, or for then, MY stud! "Just so you know, Mads, I get it," Jack said, quietly, holding me gently. He meant it – his words were soft but strong in meaning and full of intent . . . and my stomach lurched enough to make my body lurch in his hold. That was obviously just as understood by Jack, and he held me tighter. "I've GOT you," he murmured into my ear. Inside me my fear raged against my need for him. The comfort I felt in his arms also terrified me for when it would be taken from me after Jack came to his senses and realized that he didn't need a slut trick for anything more than getting off and he'd found another, newer, probably more in his league pump and didn't even remember me. "Hey," he said quietly, but firmly, still holding me tightly. I looked at him, full of desire for him and full of doubt for myself being even near the farthest outside edge of his reality. He kissed the very corner of my lips, lightly, but held it for a moment. "This is beneath me even to say, Mads, but here goes. I don't do this. I'm no monk, and I do enjoy sex. But I KNEW when I saw you – I KNEW there was more there. I FELT it. And you know you do, Mads. There's SOMEthing here – us, out on this limb, together. And I don't want you to jump . . . unless it's into my arms." This time it was my turn to put my forehead against his. Every voice inside me was yelling in chorus to RUN. But I wasn't moving, and I didn't want to. Unless . . . "Take a shower with me," Jack said, our foreheads together still. "I want to rub you all over . . . but if I do it here, now, in this bed again, I'm afraid one of us might spark, and we'll both go up in flames." I inhaled DEEP and had a rush from the stink of our sex, our sweat, our cum, everything that was US now in my mind. And I thought for a moment about whether I wanted to be with Jack . . . in the shower or otherwise, and it was all YESes. "The only burning will be in my fuckchute because of that horsecock of yours!" I said, grabbing his cock. And before he could protest my deviation back to mirth, I tugged on his balls and said, "C'mon, stud of mine – shower!" A last quick kiss from him, this one on the lips, and no further delay then we were in that amazing bathroom again, and Jack was working the wall control. I grabbed at Jack again, pulling him with me toward the now-rushing waters. "Mads, we're going to lunch after the shower . . . and we're JUST showering!" Jack said firmly. "Uh huh," I agreed weakly. Jack had the sponge and the liquid soap and as soon as he had his hands on me I was overcome with want again. "I know what you're thinking, and just DON'T," he said, doing that annoying in-my-head thing again. "How the FUCK do you do that?" I asked him. "It's really pretty easy, particularly when I have my hands on you and can feel your body and how your body is feeling, what it's wanting. And then there's the fact that since I've met you, you've never had sex OFF your mind for more than about eleven seconds at a time, and then only once or twice. Now turn `round and let me do your back." "Oh, baby," I mugged and turned around and put my hands on the wall, my ass out, my feet planted wide apart. "Do my backside, stud," I said, and I twerked my ass for him. Jack just laughed. "God, Mads, you really make it a trial, you know that?" "I've never been told that before – I'm usually told I'm too easy, if the subject is discussed at all," I quipped back. And then I yelped, as he jammed the sponge against my VERY sore ass. "Oh, so sorry, was that too rough?" he said, completely insincerely. And then we both laughed. "OK," he said forcefully, splashing the multiple jets of water all over my back. "You're done. Now go get dried and let me wash up, and then we can get some lunch." "OH, NO," I retorted. "MY turn now." I reached out for the sponge, but he pulled away and held it behind him. "Oh, this should be fun," I said, and I started toward him. Jack just planted his feet and put his hand VERY firmly against my chest. "DON'T!" I just looked at him. "DRY. Now. Then lunch." When I just stood there, he pushed my chest and said, "GET a towel NOW!" very forcefully. I took a step back, and Jack smiled. That smile did me in. I did go and took one of the big towels from just outside the shower area. When I turned back to him to make a show of languidly drying my wet naked body and teasing him as much as possible, he was just grinning at me, frenetically washing himself. I did love his grin. Just that fast, as I finished quickly drying myself, Jack was there by me, done and hitting the wall button to stop the torrent in the shower. I grabbed a fresh towel and went to hand it to him, but he just put his arms out wide and grinned at me. And of course I couldn't resist touching him, and he knew it, the bastard, teasing me, letting me touch him but insisting that we were going out for lunch before anything else. But wrapping him in a towels and rubbing him all over . . . Jack's smile got broader, enjoying my rubs, pats and one or two kisses as I dried him. I finally finished him off, his feet, with a kiss to his beautiful big floppy soft cock, which he didn't resist – I didn't linger long enough for him to. "There's the matter of the fact that I only have filthy gym clothes," I said, as I found hooks to hang both of our towels. "I put your workout shorts, t-shirt and socks through the clothes washer," he said, walking to the sinks and running his fingers through his hair. "And my jock strap?" knowing the answer. Jack just gave me a leer in the mirror, meeting my eyes as I stood behind him. "Oh, there's no way I'd have ruined that wonderfully filthy, stinking, delicious thing that's been next to your manly essence obviously many, MANY times," he said, his eyes having narrowed and now smoldering. I grinned back at him in the mirror, my cock stirring at the thought of him appreciating my well-used, rarely laundered jock strap. "And I'll just say now," he added, his voice a little husky, "It provided me with a bit of . . . enjoyment this morning while you were still asleep." And then he winked at me . . . and turned and headed out of the bathroom. As I stood there trying to keep from grabbing my now-stiff cock while watching his muscles ripple as he walked out, Jack's head then popped around the corner through the doorway. "C'mon, I'm starved – LUNCH!" he urged. I headed into the closet. Jack looked at my boner. "See something you like, stud?" I flirted. "Yes, YOU!" he said, throwing me my gym shorts, t-shirt, socks and a pair of his boxer briefs, that I managed to catch without dropping any of them. "And I'll enjoy TALKING TO you at lunch," he continued. "Now sheath that weapon, and let's get going. I really am STARVED." I figured I knew why he didn't whip us up an amazing breakfast, as he had dinner the night before. Because we'd barely gotten it eaten amid DICKstractions . . . rather long, HARD, wonderful ones. And that didn't help my raging bone relax for dressing! So I concentrated on getting my socks on, sitting on a bench in the center of the closet, then my t-shirt, then wrestled my boner into his boxers and got my gym shorts up. In the meantime Jack had gotten into a beautiful yellow polo shirt that looked like very finely woven cotton, with navy slacks, looking equally fine. The shirt had a narrow navy stripe up the side seams, and the placket to match. Smart – very smart. He was getting on some expensive-looking loafers, the leather on them matching his belt exactly in tone, texture and finish. "I'm, uh, a LITTLE underdressed," I said, after I got my sneakers on and stood up, about when he did. He gave himself a look in the floor to ceiling mirror on the wall and then looked back at me, slowly looking me up and down. "You look . . . amazing, Mads," he said, a bit breathily. I knew I blushed, and I stifled a giggle that threatened to break through. He came to me, got his arm up over my shoulder and pulled me into him and kissed me quickly, too quickly for my taste. "C'mon, let's GO!" he said and pulled me out the closet and through the bedroom. "Oh, let me just grab these sheets," I said, pulling back as we passed the bed. "We can put them in the washer on our way out." "Don't bother," he said, taking my hand and pulling me again with him. "I called my cleaning lady, and she'll be here at one to get this place taken care of." "Seriously, you called your cleaning lady to change the bed?" We were down the stairs, and he turned abruptly. "You said you're a neat freak, so I figured you'd like the place perfectly neat. And since I plan to have you back here . . . " he trailed off, grinning at me. "Jack, I could easily take care of all the mess we've made. And I wouldn't mind whatsoever." "Oh, but I have so many greater plans for you than to have your time doing domestic services," he said, smirking at me. After he'd set the alarm on another of those cool wall screens by the door, this time having to put his palm up for biometric confirmation, he turned to me. "Oh, and that underdressed thing? I purposely didn't wear any underwear, so that we'd be more evenly dressed," he said matter-of-factly, taking my hand and putting it on his pants leg where his big slab of cock was hanging. "FUCK you drive me crazy, Jack!" I said, but I didn't let go of that cock and enjoyed feeling him respond to my grip. When I went at his crotch with my other hand, he smacked me away and said, "If you don't stop that, we're going to make a spectacle of me when we're out in public." I took his hand and put it to my half-hard cock in my gym shorts, and his eyes widened in surprise. "I'm not THAT hungry," I said, lying but willing to wait longer for food if it meant more of Jack . . . NOW. Jack pushed me away suddenly. "Well I AM that hungry . . . and not just for you! FOOD – NOW!" he ordered, and there went that chance. If you enjoyed yourself reading this and want to send me feedback, it's welcome: madsvand@gmail.com. Now do not forget: being entertained this way with a few clicks and scrolls costs money for the site to be maintained to keep this available for us. PLEASE donate to nifty.org using this URL/link http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html