Date: Tue, 26 Sep 2023 21:02:18 -0700 From: N. Subject: Steve's Epiphany STEVE'S EPIPHANY Author's Note: As with several other of my stories (including "If You Don't Stop Complaining" and "A Hot Tub Story"), what happens in this one is exactly as I remember it, with no additional embellishments. Names have been altered to protect anonymity. Special thanks to Terry and Gary, who helped with the proof-reading and spell checking. Any continuing typos or grammatical errors are therefore their fault. Further note: While I only recently discovered nifty.org, the site has been around and archiving gay stories for more than 30 years. Running a website costs money, and nifty.org does not rely on ad revenue. If you enjoy this or other stories on this site, please consider making a donation of any size at https://donate.nifty.org. ****** I met Steve at the bar. I was 24, tanned, and twinkish, and I was watching guys play a game of pool. I enjoyed shooting pool, but I was not in the same league as the men who would monopolize the only table at the local gay bar. As the night got busier, I was content to just sip a pint of beer and watch others play while I smoked the occasional cigarette. One night, as I was sitting on a bar stool watching balls drop into pockets, I noticed a man who was somewhat older than me sitting at the bar where drinks were being served. He was doing his best -- and failing -- to not be noticed looking at me. He was in his late 30s, with long straight dark hair hanging past his shoulders. When I would glance his way, he would quickly turn around to find something else to look at. He looked far too old to be acting like a teenager with a crush. From time to time, he would disappear around a partition that separated the bar from the "pool room" for a while, and then sneak back around to watch me -- and there was no question he was watching me instead of the pool table. One time he came around the corner, and I quickly caught his eye and smiled. He immediately blushed, raised the straw that was in his glass to his mouth, turned around, and went back the way he came. I thought it was a little funny and a lot flattering. It was very charming in an awkward way. After about an hour of this, a middle-aged woman appeared at my shoulder. "Excuse me," she said, "but would you mind coming over and talking to my friend? He's driving us crazy." Grinning, I followed her back to the bar and slid next to the handsome man with long dark hair. "Hi. I'm Nathan." We hit it off quickly, and he took me home with him that night. He kissed like a maniac, and his hands felt every corner and crevice of my body. His face contorted in delight and pleasure when I straddled him and slid him inside me. After a few minutes, he flipped me over onto my back and fucked me like a madman for almost an hour. Finally, he pulled out of my ass, put his cock to my lips, and fed me his babies. My load shot up his back and into his hair as I savored his essence. He took me back to my apartment the next morning and asked me out on a proper date. He showed up several days later with two dozen red roses in his hand. We saw a lot of each other over the next several weeks. Our dates usually ended with him shooting his cum either down my throat or up my ass, and I loved every drop of it. My own load would often be caught with his mouth, and we would kiss afterward until neither of us could taste it anymore. One night we were at his home, naked on his couch. He seemed to be on fire that night -- much more appreciative of my attentions, and much more vocal and insistent about what he wanted and what he liked. His grunting as we kissed drove me wild. When I went down on his cock to taste him in all his glory, he grabbed my hair roughly and fucked my face until my jaw hurt. When he buried his face into my ass to rim me out, it felt like he got an inch and a half of tongue into me. Sex between Steve and I had always been fantastic, if somewhat lacking in imagination. We had not experimented very much, but his energy, enthusiasm, and stamina more than satisfied me. If I had any complaint, it was that he only wanted to top me. I could rim his ass, finger him, and play with his hole, but he did not want me to fuck him. I have always been a solid "middle" instead of exclusively a top or bottom, but he knew how to work my ass over so well that I didn't need the added variety. I knew he was open to exploring our desires more fully that night because he forced my arm over my head and started aggressively licking my armpit, staying there for several minutes. He had never shown any interest in anything like this before. He moaned and grunted as he reached around me with his arms to pull me closer and closer, trying to devour my musk. He inhaled heavily through his nose as he licked me clean under one arm and then roughly twisted my torso around to attack the other. His face left my pit and moved across my chest, kissing and licking. His mouth settled on my left nipple, and he gently nibbled at it. He then put his lips wide around it and started flicking just the tip with his tongue, giving it little butterfly kisses. As I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, he ran his hands up my back to my shoulders and neck. Then he grasped me roughly and drug his fingernails down my back, scratching me. It was not enough to break the skin, and the pain was just enough to be exquisite without breaking the mood. I wrapped my hands around his head and pulled him into my chest as he continued to flick and nibble at me. Grabbing his long hair in both hands, I pulled him off of my nipple and raised him up to my face. Looking into my eyes wildly, he opened his mouth and kissed me roughly. Our eyes locked as we each tried to push our tongues further and further into each other's mouths. Our hands clutched at each other, pulling, tugging, and groping, as our bodies tried desperately to merge. Steve pulled away from me and fell back heavily on the couch, his hairy chest heaving as he gasped for air. I slid my hands under his hips and raised them, pointing his ass up to me. As we continued to look thirstily into each other's eyes, I lowered my face to his hole and started to feast. I intently watched his face as my tongue slid up his crevice and ground crudely against his hole. Steve's breaths came in quicker and heavier pants as I gorged myself. He was enjoying this as much as I was. We broke eye contact when he rolled his back and closed them, pushing his head back into the cushions. He reached behind his knees with his hands and pulled his legs up, giving me easier access. I closed my eyes and savored the taste of my boyfriend's ass. The heady meatiness was intense and delicious. My tongue forced its way into his sphincter, probing insistently and hungrily. After several minutes, I released his hips and slowly lowered his ass back onto the couch as I repositioned myself. My tongue traced up his taint and began to taste greedily at his balls. I sucked one into my mouth and then released it before doing the same thing to its partner. My tongue stroked up the underside of his cock as I reached up my hand and pulled it towards me to satisfy my hunger. The dark hair on Steve's belly was drenched and matted with his precum. I pulled his cock to point it towards the ceiling and out of the way and began cleaning his abdomen. The taste of his juice was strong that night, and there was a lot of it. His cock was a factory, and I could feel it well out of the head and trace down my fingers as I held his dick as I lapped at his stomach. Using his natural lube, I began sliding my hand up and down his dick slowly as I raised my head from his stomach. Steve was writhing and groaning, obviously pleased. He ground his butt against the couch cushions while still holding his legs up with his hands behind his knees. Sweat matted the hair on his head just as his precum and my spit matted the hair on his stomach. He tossed his head back and forth in anticipation as he made high-pitched growling sounds in the back of his throat. I traced my tongue around his leaking shaft, and a fresh pulse of fluid seeped forth. I eagerly licked it up while continuing to move my hand up and down his shaft. I would not close my lips around this magnificent cock just yet. Steve had never been this uninhibited with me before, and I liked the change. I wanted this to last for as long as possible. I raised my head and released his dick from my hand. It slapped against his belly, leaving another trace of his seepage. I moved my head over to his leg and licked slowly and deliberately up from his groin and to his knee. Steve's hands remained firmly behind his knees, holding his legs up and apart; he may have forgotten he was doing it as passion took over his mind. I wiped the sweat out of my eyes and sucked on the tips of each of his fingers, causing him to quake in desire. As my lips released his index finger, I took his calf in my hand and straightened his leg as I continued licking and tasting his flesh further away from his rod. His precum was starting to pool in his navel as I licked around his ankle to the top of his foot. His breathing stopped and his eyes opened wide as he looked at me. Staring him directly in the eye, I stopped licking and stuck his big toe into my mouth. I gave a strong suck on the digit and French kissed it in my mouth. His leg trembled in my hand. "Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, fuck! Oh, shit!" he repeated, his voice increasing in pitch and volume. After about ten seconds, he pulled his foot from my mouth and spread his legs wide. His muscles stiffened and he looked at me in shock. His cock began to flex, and cum shot forth and landed between his hairy pecs. "Unh," he bellowed wordlessly, and his body tremored wildly. The second jet to hit him in his open mouth and splattered on his chin. I watched in fascination as ten distinct spasms shook him as his seed coated his body. Apart from the brief jerking off while I was savoring his precum, neither one of us had touched his dick. He had shot his load from a combination of sheer horniness, anticipation, and having his toe sucked. Steve's legs collapsed around me on the couch. "What the fuck did you do?" he asked in amazement. "What did you do to my foot?" "I sucked on your toe," I said, stating the obvious. "Holy. FUCK!" he panted. "Has no one ever done that for you before?" I hadn't yet gotten off, of course, but Steve's reaction was occupying my attention. "No! I'd remember something that felt like that." "You liked that, did you?" Steve looked at me in wonderment. "Nathan, I'm 38. No one has ever made me cum by leaving my dick alone. I'd remember that." I looked at him in disbelief. "Then no one has ever sucked your toe or licked it or anything?" "Never." I leaned back and took his foot in my hands. Looking at him devilishly, I gave the big toe I had been sucking on a light but lingering kiss. "I think you've been missing out on something you really like." Steve's eyes closed, and his muscles tensed slightly as my lips touched his toe again. He gave a sharp inhale. His spent cock had been slowly softening, but it gave a twitch and reversed course. A few more kisses on each of his toes, and he was fully hard again and ready to go another round. Releasing his foot, I climbed astride him. I ran my hand through his chest hair and the mingled precum, sweat, and seed. I then reached behind me and slathered his dick with nature's lubricant before pressing his cock against my hole and sliding back. Steve grasped my ass cheeks and spread them as he entered me. The smell of his sweat and his cum was driving me crazy, and the feel of his dick head pressing firmly against my prostate increased my need. I didn't care if he fucked me and got off again or if he just stayed still while I pleasured myself. I was just going to use him as my personal dildo until I mixed my sperm with his own on his chest. Smearing my hand across his slick chest again, I used his seed as lube and began jacking myself. I ground my ass against his groin while he continued to spread my cheeks to reach as far inside me as far as his cock could reach. Apart from pushing hard against me, he did not move his hips or try fucking me. I sat heavily astride him, writhing back and forth, filling myself up with his dick. It did not take long. Within just a few minutes, I was on the edge. Steve gave a final grind with his cock, and I was over the precipice. I screamed loudly as my first three shots flew past Steve's head and landed on the arm of his couch. I leaned back and into him hips, pressing his cock into my special place as I continued to shoot across his chest. Finally spent, I fell forward, exhausted. Steve embraced me tightly, and we wriggled against each other, smearing our fluids between us and sharing the experience, the smells, the feel of the slowly drying jizz, the sounds of our gasping and panting. When we could speak again, Steve whispered into my ear, "That was fucking intense." "It was wild," I agreed. "You were an animal tonight." "And that shit with my foot! How did you know that would make me cum?" "I didn't. It doesn't for me. I guess I found your weak spot." "We both found it." Once we had caught our breath and regained out strength, Steve led me to the bathroom. We took a long hot shower together, kissing and rubbing our wet bodies against each other. The slickness of the water and soap was sensual, but I preferred the sweat and cum that we were washing off. Over the next weeks and months -- until our relationship had run its course and come to an end -- focus on Steve's feet became a regular part of our sexual play and foreplay. Sometimes I would just massage them, which would invariably lead to his erection. Just caressing his ankle over his sock would often result in him leaning in for a kiss or to nuzzle my neck. Other times I would kiss, lick, and suck on his toes as a tease or to drive him into a frenzy, depending on my mood. I learned how to read his body so that I could bring him just to the point of ejaculation and then deny him the release. I had helped him discover something new about himself, and I was ready to exploit it any time my libido was ready. Even though our paths would eventually diverge, I am sure that he thinks of me -- if only briefly -- any time someone pays proper attention to his feet.