Unwritten Fantasy - Part One.
The following story is intended for
Adults and contains both sexually explicit language and "foul" language.
I'm not particularly proud of this- at least not to my gay friends. I suppose that we all do things not particularly lauded by our companions...but I've done something my so called companions would probably poke back at me with for years to come...
Ok, I'll stop rambling
and explain. My name is Gareth, I'm
twenty-two and at University in
The night I'm talking about started bad enough. I sat watching porn on my computer for most of the afternoon, half-heartedly pleasuring myself with a half-hearted erection after a crappy morning at work with customers who could quite easily fill up a crematorium with their bland, zombie-like browsing. Around six or so at night I found myself on Gaydar, browsing and chatting lightheartedly with an old squeeze, (one of my first from Gaydar coincidentally) and a little suddenly, a window popped up, a personal message with pictures attached. The message wasn't terribly unusual, mostly along the lines of, "Hello, I've seen you on here alot, think you're cute and maybe you'd like to meet sometime? Mike x."
Usually I'd take this with a massive pinch of salt, he probably being a random grabber, horny at the time and willing to fuck anything that moves. The pictures, however, were a different manner. He was much older, that was what first hit me, his hair a grey-black mix- salt and pepper I suppose it's called. Next thing I noticed, he's a handsome older guy but in a sort of, plump, old-spiced, taxi-driver sort of way, his second picture showing off an unfettered beer belly, not huge but not small and furry with this salt and pepper mix. For some reason, after only two of his four pictures, I found myself painfully hard and heavily aroused- weird for me since I usually go for men my age, a little younger, a little older and so forth.
His third picture showed "Mike" off lying on a White-sheeted bed, stark bollock naked, with a large, tanned hand covering his genitals. He was smiling at the camera, one arm behind his head showing off a big tuft of armpit hair and he seemed comfortable with himself on camera. I actually noticed, in greater detail, his few tatoo's confined to his arms, mostly faded blue and green but one was a spectacular black dragon, oriental style that covered his right arm from shoulder to finger-tips, this arm being the one holding back his package from view. For some reason this whole image of an inked up, middle-aged spare tire was turning the hell on inside me, my left hand unconciously inside my boxers, slowly rubbing my erection.
Photo four removed the hand and in some way I wished it hadn't. No, there was nothing wrong with his genitalia. Indeed he sported a nice bush of thick dark hair and a nice, plump flacid cock resting upon nice-looking testicles, a trail of dark hair leading away to his unseen "rosebud" as a friend of mine calls it. Why I wished he hadn't shown me his exceedingly nice package is all down to a peculiar pang of wonder that had grown from the first three pictures- I'd found myself wanting to meet him and find out for myself if he was massively endowed or inch-long micro-dick: the photo robbed me of such discovery, although I did find my disappointment abated when I realised that his back and arse were undiscovered territory.
Overall, Mike seemed to be your typical taxi-man, and a strong glance at his profile presented "Taxi-driver" as his profession, everything else set pleasantly to average and and no in all the right places, though his answer for "safe sex" ran to "need to talk," which rang alarm bells but also intrigued, the current craze for barebacking always at the back of my mind. His profile also displayed his age - 45 - and his age range ran from 18 to his own age. The pics that came with his message had revealed his sexy side, one that I had liked from the first sight of his moustachioued, broad and angular face. His profile pictures showed a man happy in himself both inside what appeared to be a beautifully minimalist home and on holiday in an icey land, garbed in brightly coloured protective gear, riding a snow-ski and grinning all the while.
I replied to his message- I couldn't hold back any longer. "Hey Mike, thank-you for your message- I think you're fucking sexy mate! ^_^ I have my own car but I can't accomodate- student halls being what they are- can you? If you want to chat here's my msn --- and hopefully cya soon :P ! xxgaryxx"
Ok, so I'm not
displaying my university education to the full in that message but it gets my
point across in a disarming and chatty way.
Anywho, a few minutes later I'm adding him to
my msn list and saying the first tentative hello's.
He seems a little hesistant
and I probed him about this- apparently he's a bit of a gaydar
virgin and a quick glance at the hit-counter on his profile confirms this.
I'm gentle with him *grin*.
He picks up soon enough though and I learn,
(with that pinch of salt) that the minimalist home in his pictures is his own,
the icey land is in fact
The safer sex thing? Well, he doesn't mind either way and prefers condoms until he knows he can trust someone. That's pretty usual and standard for Gaydar gents and actually he put down "need to talk" because he just wanted to make sure that we talked about it- smart man. I happily agreed with him, my own past having included one encounter with barebacking, (not nice but I was lucky) and I hoked out my supply of heavy duty condoms and KY Jelly, (only the best) as he went for a pee. When he returned, he suggested that we webcam each other, make this easier and maybe safer for both of us- a sensible suggestion I thought and happily I again agreed. When the webcam feed from his end flicked on I was immediately struck by his clothing; plain blue shirt with a silver belt buckle immediately noticeable, beer belly concealed but tantalisingly apparent under the shirt. His moustache was bushier than in his photos and he smiled with a twinkle in his eye that had me gushing with giggles as my own topless feed emerged.
He took me on a brief, cam-wire limited tour of his room, a nice, cleanly painted bedroom with a massive bed and light-coloured wooden furniture, a fancy flat-panel screen on one wall, bijou flower arrangements scattered around the room, beautifully understated scenery shots framed on the walls- all in all a paradise for someone who's all too used to poster covered walls and boxer-littered floors, (student halls- what can I say?)
When he returned he unbuttoned his shirt and asked if I was okay with his body as is. It took me a moment to respond and when I did I grinned at him; "I find it absolutely fucking arousing Mike, sitting here with a hard-on just looking at your chest." Mike grinned his happy smile and stood up, unbuckling his belt and dropping his trousers to reveal tented boxers, his cock straining for all its size against the white cotton. He rubbed it a few times through the fabric for extra effect then sat down and looked at me with a penetrating gaze for a moment before getting serious. He gave me an address, one I was able to easily find on an online map and gave me his invitation to come, his preferences ranging as far as penetration, kissing, cuddling, light bondage, role-play, anything light and frivilous...except oral. I didn't argue, simply because I agreed with him, oral being something I'd tried and hated from the get-go. Penetration raised a question in me, one unanswered by his profile stating, "versatile," and when asked he actually blushed a little.
You see, for the longest time I've craved a great fucking. I've wanted, for so many aching years, for a strong man much like Mike to take me, make me his submissive and fuck me hard, slow and with passion. That's it. Mike actually seemed to understand and with a glance to his crotch he told me that if the chemistry was there in real life as it was online then a good fucking could be on the cards.
I showered thoroughly, dressed sparingly in t-shirt, shorts and trainers, styled my hair a little, grabbed my car-keys and left the halls. I met a few friends on the way out but pleaded a pressing engagment to get rid of the "just a few moments" sort of inevitable conversation and ran to my little Ford Fiesta, (thank-you kind and understanding grandparents.)
As I strapped in and did all that you're supposed to do to start the car, I took a moment to reflect on what I was about to do. Mike could be a crap shag, a middle-aged frump, sexually frustrated and potentially angry about this. He didn't seem to be the type though, his happy-go-luckly nature heavily apparent on the webcam and his equipment apparently in full working order. Fuck it. I started the engine and began the ten or so minute drive to his suburban address in a variably up-market-esque area. His house sported an old-world style Victorian design in a leafy street of Audi's, BMW's and Volvo estates. The area seemed fairly deserted and I parked close to his address, behind a gorgeous light blue Audi hatchback, retrieved my little rucksack of "goodies" and nervously stepped into his garden, a black painted door sporting silver numbers and door-knocker standing before me. I knocked twice before it opened, Mike standing before me, resplendant in his dark blue shirt and black, khacki-esque combat trousers.
He ushered me inside where I stood in the usual nervous stupor taking in the stark yet cosy decor of his hall, stained glass over the front door refracting the evening sunlight into dancing colours on the white-washed walls and sparkling against silver-framed photos. Mike turned round and grinned at me, shaking my hand as if we were gentleman meeting for the first time, gesturing for me to go into a room to my left, a room which turned out to be a spacious living area, adorned with flatpanel Tv, expensive looking laptop on a glass coffee table, cream-coloured sofa's and recliner- actually I think I stood gaping like an idiot at all of it, I mean, a taxi-driver- how could he afford it?
"You're a beautiful guy Gary." was all he said and to be honest I blushed like hell.
"You're not so bad yourself," I said, a brazen smile at him garnering a giggle that rumbled his soft belly and made his features crinkle into his seemingly trade-mark happy grin.
With Mike holding me lightly by my waist I took a moment to finish looking round. The white-coloured blinds were half-closed so that no-one from the street could look in and a lamp sat on in one corner, throwing a splash of colour across the minimalist haven of the living room. Mike looked around with me, smiling in a sort of proud-homeowner way as someone appreciated his work.
"It took ages," he noted, "I was just going to make everything white and be done with it but a few girlfriends took me in hand and to good effect I think." Mike's voice was tinged with pride and he spoke so well that for a moment I wondered why he wasn't a high-up IT man or a business owner. Again he seemed to know exactly what I was thinking about and leaned in for a quick kiss before answering, the quick sweep of his moustache making my cock leap in my shorts.
"I have more money than I'll ever need and taxi-driving suits me personally. I like being chatty with people and I have a sort of need to help people, even if they're just drunk and lost. I thought about being a doctor, hell, I'd have a huge-head start without any of the crippling loans to pay back...but." He stopped and looked at me, his eyes connecting with a part of myself previously tapped rarely and with awful results. "Well, I just don't handle stress well so taxi-driving is a great job in that respect, although as you can see, the big belly thing isn't so great a benefit. Anyway, what am I doing gabbing away about this- I think we have more serious things to do." And with that said he leaned in and ever so softly kissed me, a serious sort of soft kiss with his body pressing into mine, his feet entwined with my own, his arms strong in their hold of me, his breath both warm and sweet. I almost melted.
I lost track of time as Mike held me with his idea of snogging, the warm lapping of his tongue, the delicate circles he made with his fingers on my back, his scent of tantalising aftershave and soap, all of it swirling my senses into freefall. Suddenly, however, I realised with a pang or regret that he had pulled away but this evaporated as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes never leaving my own until the last button surrendered, the light fabric falling free from his shoulders, his tanned, impressively inked torso naked for my gaze to ravage. Up close the salt and pepper nature of his hair felt agressively arousing and unconsciously I ran one hand slowly through the mat of hair upon his chest, the smooth skin contrasting harshly with the wiry hairs, a brush of a hidden nipple causing Mike to gasp lightly. I grinned at him as my roaming hand fell to his protruding stomach, exploring his bulk, the sparse hairs of his stomach fielding together as I reached lower, a thick treasure trail apparent beneath the soft bulge of his tummy, disapearing into his combats.
While I did this
We stood there, Mike and I, simply looking at one another topless, drinking in each others body, my slim, sparsely haired chest seemingly intoxicating for Mike, his tanned, furry belly setting fires in my belly, the promise of raw sexuality oozing from us both in buckets. We looked slowly into each others eyes, realising exactly what was going to happen in this situation and somehow, with the promise of anything that could happen, we agreed with our eyes and fell upon each other again, his arms holding me so very tight, my lips fighting against his as we sparred our heads bumping, grinding, fighting to be satisfied, our hard-ons rubbing one another through various fabrics like swords in a duel but with far more wicked intent.
Finally, after several bouts of hard, heavy kissing we broke apart and I fell into a sofa, somehow exhausted, somehow energised and never for a moment taking my eyes from Mike. He grinned at me from up high and gracefully straddled my body, his arse directly atop my cock, his belly heavy and hot against my cool chest. On an impulse I nuzzled against his furry stomach, kissing and licking across the expanse of him, his belly button a target for my hot breath, his fur like warm feathers tickling my senses. When I'd satisfied my impulse I looked up at Mike and we instantly broke out laughing, the sheer weirdness of the situation apparent to both of us yet not quite detracting from anything. When Mike finished laughing he reached down with both hands to the waistband of my shorts and pulled it too him, making a little impromptu opening for my right hand to move in and fondle myself, making an obscene gesture at him, my cock hard and slick in my hand as I slowly stroked, a show for Mike of what he could have. He simply smiled and let the waistband snap back against my hand then he removed himself from my lap and stood up, extending a hand in a gesture as old as humans are, both obvious and scary, a promise and proposal wrapped in the gesture, his piercing look asking me if I could do what our bodies and minds so desperately wanted us to do. I took his hand and hauled myself upward, leaning in for a kiss as if in confirmation, his few extra inches of height adding to the feeling of power radiating from his body.
We kicked off our shoes at an unconscious signal and climbed softly carpeted stairs, his arse hazy and unconfirmed in the loose Khaki's until we reached the first floor and entered the bedroom I had been shown on his camera. As I'd guessed, a stylish and expensive looking desktop PC sat in one corner, bathed in light from a blind-encased window, each feature from the camera viewing sharp and impressive looking in the soft light that shone through the room. As Mike stepped into that light he turned and pulled me to him, our bodies automatically entwining in another kiss, as hot and heavy as each before it, though this time I felt my shorts pushed to my knee's, and prodded to the floor, my boxer-covered cock straining to be free. I stepped from my shorts, still enfolded in Mike's arms and reached for my boxer waistband but his hands stopped me. Mike grinned, a grin of wicked intent as he hands moved from mine to his belt, unbuckling it with practised ease, his loosened khacki's falling to the floor, cock straining like mine in those tight white boxers.
As Mike stepped out of his trousers I stood back for a moment and looked him over, my eyes seemingly unable to get enough of Mike- it sounds corny but some men are just so strangely attractive that you can't get enough and he was one of them. Mike sat on his bed, lying back, arms clasped behind his head, his thick, hairy legs folding at the feet- he wanted me to make the next move and hell I was happy to. Teasingly, (at least so I hoped) I wandered over to the bed and climbed on top of him, my breath against his body raising goose-bumps over his chest and neck as I leaned in to explore his body with my mouth, just as I wanted to. As I lay atop him, his right hand fumbled beneath me, finding my erection in my boxers, fighting aside the elastic and finally grasping the precum-slick skin of my hard-on, his rough-skinned hand shockingly good against my cock. For that I nuzzled mercilessly into his neck, eliciting a deep belly laugh culminating in a few squeezes of my dick- actually it sort of descended into a fight of sorts; he would squeeze my dick and run a finger along its modest length and I would lick and nibble and bite and kiss him, whether it be his stubble-laden neck or moustache, (which by the way is the weirdest thing to kiss...like a brush with soft wires and lots of warmth) and eventually I just gave up and stuck my tongue down his throat, ( as the old saying goes.)
Mike's arms ended up holding me again, tight and with surprisingly strength, against his soft body as we rolled around kissing, actually at some point reorienting ourselves so that we lay upon the length-ways part of the bed, legs entangled again, bodies free to roam on the horizontal plain.
"I want you so fucking bad," Mike managed to say between breaths, kisses and a rather naughty nudge of his cock with my knuckles.
"Ditto," was my feeble answer but it was enough. Mike swiftly sat up, looking slightly regretful for breaking the fast rythym of our "necking", and grasped each side of my boxers with his thumbs and with a quick raise of my arse, my boxers disappeared to my knees, (like the huzzy I am) and soon were flung away, my cock free and dripping with precum, happy in its average length and width, (that's between five and six inches if you're wondering) to be free, my balls sweaty and tight against my body. Mike tried to hide his evil grin but failed miserably and without much ado he did the one thing I wouldn't have expected of him; he leaned down from his position just between my legs and took my cock into his mouth, his tongue ravishing the damned sensitive head, the hot wetness encasing a few inches and inviting me to moan both appreciately and whine in question. Mike took a moment to lap around my cock-head and finished with a long lick along the underside of my dick before sitting up, grinning like a chesire cat, his moustache glistening with my sweat and precum.
"I thought you hated oral," I managed to gasp.
Mike just grinned wider and replied,
"Couldn't help myself, it's been a long time since I tried that and you certainly taste nice." I wasn't sure whether to laugh of blush at that...so I did both and he did the same, minus the blushing. At the same time he moved off the bed and removed his boxers at least, flinging in the same direction as my forgotten knickers, his "plump" flacid cock having turned into an average length and rather non-average thickness. Wow. Big.
I think Mike caught me gaping because he suddenly lay down to me left, on his side and took my cock in hand, eyes locked on my own. I turned to my side facing him and moved closer, enveloping him in my own arms, bringing his handsome head to mine in a slower, deeper kiss than any of the others. When we came back up for air, Mike grinned at me and stroked my face with one hand, nuzzling my nose lightly with his own. He pulled back for a moment and looked seriously at me and cleared his throat for a moment before speaking,
Oh yeah, hard decision.
"Well...Mike you know what I talked about...that thing I've wanted for a long time? I think our chemistry is alot more than it was on the internet- a helluva lot more in fact...do you think you could do me...?"
Ok so it's not the most delicate proposal but it had the desired effect. Mike kissed me again quickly then turned to his other side, exposing his back to me and finally allowing me a close-up view of his arse. I had the sudden urge to fuck him senseless- but that would come later. While he rummaged in his bedside table for the essentials, I couldn't resist the temptation that his arse offered and so I scooted up against him, my chest to his back, my cock slowly sinking into the dark crevace of his arse, both hands clasping the thick, fleshy cheeks moving Mike to yelp in alarm, a yelp that quickly turned to moaning as I moved back and forth, my cock nudging against his arse-hole with each half-serious thrust. When he suddenly turned back to me, his hands holding a tube of KY, (half-empty...what a horny bugger) and several condoms, (I didn't really think that this would be a wham-bam experience and neither apparently did he) a seriously hot kiss confirming both how horny he was and his respect for me.
With a mad rush of excitement I decided to choose the position for my grand fucking and decided that, with the odd connection between Mike and I, it would be worth taking the Missionary position if just for the benefit of watching Mike's hirsute body over-powering, (well...) mine. With no need to rub himself hard, (I took a bit of satisfaction from the idea that I was keeping him so rigidly erect) he rolled on a condom with the ease expected of experience and liberally applied lube to himself. When he'd finished I looked between my legs and felt a rush of apprehension. His cock was so thick...ah fuck it, I wanted a good riding and I was going to hopefully get one. We'd discussed how I wanted to be fucked and one rule was that I wanted to take it as is, no finger-widening as you're supposed to do, (bear with me...fantasy doesn't make much room for reality) just stick it in and fuck away. Mike had agreed and with admirable restraint he rubbed what seemed like most of the tube of KY into my arse, a finger probing inside, momentarily sending shivers throughtout me via the cool jelly. His finger removed, Mike lifted my legs to his shoulders, kissing each calf muscle as he did so, and manoeuvered into position, his cock-head slightly inside my not-so-tight arsehole, (I'd been fucked before and had noticed a certain lack of tightness as so many men are cursed with) and leaned himself onto me, that fucking hot belly spread out against my own, lips to mine as he pushed himself inside me.
As I'd secretly predicted, his width hurt but that passed thanks mostly to the incredible control Mike exhibited in the slow speed with which he virtually impaled my arse upon his cock. When his pubic hair touched against my own, his pelvis hard against mine, Mike lifted away, grasped my legs and locked his eyes with mine. He knew what I wanted and his lust would allow almost anything and so with a few minutes to adjust and some gentle thrusting to loosen us both up, Mike pulled his cock out to its very tip and with the force I figured he could apply, plunged back inside, his groan as he did so mingling with my grunt as I felt all of him inside me as both sharp pain and unsettling pleasure. Rapidly Mike pistoned in and out, in and out...you get the picture- he was a machine. I'd never met a man who could do what Mike was doing. He was fucking me like an animal, grunting and swearing, sweat dripping off him, chest-hair matted and strangely sexy that way. My arse felt like it was being torn apart while simultaneously it felt like I was being blown to heaven. Pain, Pleasure, Pain, Pleasure...they mingled and surprisingly after a mad half hour the pain fucked of and Mike fucked me a deluge of melting, hotpot, nerve-shattering feeling, his magnificent cock pounding hard and fast. The guys stamina was unbelievable!
Eventually though, even Mike began to tire and he slowed his thick and fast pace until I felt only a gentle thrusting. He relaxed against me, his hips grinding slowly into mine, his dick hard as ever.
"How do you feel?" he asked, real concern in his voice that I'd never heard from a "shag" before. It took me a while to respond, my fucked over senses still embroiled in the feeling he was creating.
"I feel...oh fuck it's like...you're magnificent." When Mike grinned upon hearing my praise of his performance, I felt a surge of happiness and something else I didn't want to deal with just yet. Instead I clasped his hips with my hands and quickened his pace to something normal, his energy rebuilding for a final pounding. When he began, he heaved his body back, looking incredible looming over my sweaty form, thrusting powerfully in a quickening rythym, head tilted slightly backwards, mouth open, a low groan building, his fucking accelerating, finally reaching its fastest peak his groans turning to shouts and swearing and that happy smile I was becoming nicely accustomed to. Mike had came, seen and conquered and still he fucked into me, slowly until he began to soften, body back against mine our heads together until he carefully pulled himself from me, condom removed, tied and tossed aside. Tired and insanely happy, Mike lay beside me his right hand stroking my chest, eyes closed, breath steady if slightly winded.
My own body was assimilating the completion of my hardest dream, a dream that had me awaken many nights with a raging hard-on and images of dirty, hard, nasty fucking in various dirty places. Never could I have imagined fulfilling it in such a beautiful setting with such a...strange man.
Such is life...
While Mike rested from his trip up my happy arse, (how funny does that sound?)I took my original mantra to explore his body and did so, my hands and tongue exploring the mountain of his belly, (why the hell does that fascinate me so much?) his soft and sensitive nipples, (you wouldn't believe the sort of moans I got from him when I played with them) his neck, face, legs, even feet...Those I massaged lightly on an impulse, happily finding that Mike enjoyed having his feet played with, (information stored for future use methinks...) and finally I came to his cock. It was still drooling precum and was covered in strands of thick cum near the tip. Softened it still looked damned impressive and I had the odd image of showing Mike off on a beach in speedos that would perfectly display his thickness to jealous queens. I stowed the image for future...erm...use, (*grin*) and took him into my mouth. I know I said that I don't like oral but he tasted...alright which as most of you know is something to hope for. He wasn't a nectar from the gods and he wasn't a foul-concoction from a hospital kitchen- he was just nice, a little salty and a little sweet. While I licked and tongued and used a certain amount of innate talent to "clean" his proud prick, Mike propped himself up with a flurry of soft pillows and grinned down at myself licking his tired cock.
"I thought you said you don't like cocksucking?" I grinned impishly at him and replied,
"I don't but you looked like you needed a little clean-up and after fucking me like a porn star gone hyper, I figure that it was the least I could do."
"It feels nice you know but I don't know if I could ever get used to it." He said this with a bit of a grin and I wondered if he was telling the truth...No matter, I'd finished anyway and shuffled up to lay beside him, head upon his chest, his arms holding me close. It was odd how close I felt to him after only a few hours but as I say it happens sometimes.
"Now," he whispered, "I think it's about time that we did something about that."
"About what," I asked, genuinely perplexed. Mike looked pointedly at my crotch and I realised that I was still hard, achingly so to my touch.
"For some reason I didn't notice it," I said, slightly embarassed.
"No worries," he replied, "I think it might want back where it was trying to go earlier...if you'd like that...cos' you know I think I would."
Oh fucking yes please!
Mike let go of me, and grabbed a condom, carefully tearing the wrapping away and leaned over me to roll it over my hungry cock. Lubed up and ready to go I waited upon my knees as Mike rolled over and presented his arse with a bit of a teasy wiggle. I grasped it and did something I usually wouldn't do on a first meeting...Between his arse-cheeks my tongue did go and between the taste of soap and sweat I found his arse-hole and showed him my arse's appreciation, licking, probing almost fucking with my tongue. Soon enough my cock brought me back to reality gasping for air, barely noticing Mike's heavy breathing and moans...
Unlike myself Mike has said that before he's occasionally been too "tight" for a man to fuck so in went a lubed up finger, then two, then three, (which somehow made me feel insignificant considering three of my fingers were wider than my cock...but that's being a man for you...) When it seemed that we were both ready I, very slowly, brought my cock to his hole and pushed. When the head popped through Mike sighed with relief and mmed appeciatively as I kept going until all of me was inside him. Unlike Mike's grand pounding I decided to take this slowly and carefully, my desire not to hurt Mike overwhelming my lustful need to thrust like mad. Slowly and with a certain flair I fucked him, thrusting with an achingly slow twist and pulling out to the tip and doing it all over again. Mike seemed to be enjoying it and since I was too I felt that keeping this up with some alteration in speed each time we could make this last and have a bit of fun. Just for a change I fucked into him very fast, almost sliding with the amount of jelly on both of us. Mike grunted as he had when fucking me and for a moment I lost control, pounding him, riding him, you name it, whatever you like...
When I regained control, Mike's arse with pushing into me and with a certain amount of surprise I noted that he 'liked' this hard n' fast thing. So I slowed down to a crawl again. Oh the evil satisfaction I got from his whimpering for more... I felt a little guilty though so without further ado I let my lust take control grappled his hips with both hands and thrusted for all I was worth, a fast, unconcentrated pistoning like a first timer, ending quickly as I exploded with a certain amount of giggling, (don't ask why but I do it everytime I come...) and a happy grunt from Mike.
Flopping down beside him, the heated condom on the floor near the other one we just lay together, he held me to him, sweaty, satisfied and soon to want more.
Mike sat up for a moment and looked into my eyes then gently moved to kiss me, his lips probing as if shy, his tongue whipping into a frenzy...an odd contrast but terribly intriguing and sexy at the same time. When he'd finished my senses had buggered themselves into a misty haze of crotch-led happiness and much later when we'd both recovered enough to use up more of the condoms the happy haze continued.
To tell the truth it was roughly eight am the next morning when I woke up, each and every one of the condoms Mike had lain atop the bedside table spent and lying on the floor, my arse aching to high heaven, Mike snoring lightly beside me, his arms around me. I fell asleep again, still high on the happiness of the night and as late morning approached, woke up to Mike padding naked to bed, still looking sexy, energetic as a bee and carrying a glass of orange juice in each hand. He handed one to me and grinned as he drained his in one gulp, laid it on the little table and looked at me. That look would become very familiar for a long, long time.
Let's just say that I nipped downstairs for my rucksack and that by late afternoon, after my mobile had rung several times and gone unanswered we'd used up all of my supplies.
Luckily Mike had a few 3 packs lying around. How we did it so much for so long I don't know. Almost a day and a half after I had left expecting a quick meet and a nice fuck, I returned to my halls, sore, happy, tingling and tired as all hell. All I could think about was Mike and with his number and a date written on something in the pocket of my shorts, I flopped onto my bed and fell asleep almost instantly.
When I said that I'm not proud of what I did...I'm not entirely sure that's true. My arse surely doesn't feel any kind of regret- in fact, right now it's the happiest thing on my little earth...
To be continued...
Copyright 2005 Demonic_Kitty -- firstname.lastname@example.org
is my first submission online and comments/criticisms will be gratefully received
though offensive comments will be met with extreme "