Date: Fri, 8 Jul 2005 23:04:19 -0700 (PDT) From: Douglas Grant Subject: naked-with-connor-5 Dedicated with affection to dudesweet (dude sweet at hot mail dot com), whom I hope is living something like this story right now; and josh (btomandback@hotmail.com), whose work has moved me, (and who deserves to be published!) I highly recommend their stories. No real disclaimers, except that this is fiction -- with some real experiences occasionally woven in. The characters are composites, although somewhat based on several real high school classmates of mine. No names, but more on that at the end of the series. I won't urge underage boys to avoid this site, or avoid this behavior. I think gay boys should have lots of sex, as often as possible -- as long as it's safe and healthy. Physically, and emotionally. That's important. And I think gay boys should have boyfriends, whenever they can. Copyright 2005 by dlgrantsf@yahoo.com; all rights reserved, apart from the Nifty copyright. Please, do not repost, or edit. *********************************************************************** Naked with Connor -- part 5 The next day, Connor and I fucked each other, for the first time. That sounds really brutal, doesn't it? For something so -- intimate. Beautiful. Life- changing. Like any day, it started with waking up. But this time -- with gray morning light pouring through the windows -- I was waking up with somebody else; with a warm body against mine. For the first time; ever. Maybe there's something about sleeping with someone. Really sleeping, I mean. Losing consciousness. REALLY sleeping. Maybe when you sleep with someone, you dream together; I don't know. Anyway. I remember waking up, that first morning with Connor. That warm body; the smell of him. His breath. I remember feeling -- I don't know. Ultimately happy? Triumphant, maybe. Not that we slept all that much. Connor woke me up three times that night, for sex; he said later it was because I insisted on holding his balls in my hand, as we snuggled; it made him too horny to sleep. First I denied it; but -- well, I really DO like Connor's balls. So, maybe . . . Anyway. We were sort of spooning, and as I kind of slowly woke up, pressed up against his back, I didn't want to move, I thought it was the best single moment of the best single morning of my life. There really IS something -- special -- about waking up with someone. We woke up slow, just enjoying the warm. We didn't even make any moves to fool around with each other; partly because we'd done so much last night, I guess, but maybe also because we knew what we'd be doing that day . . . Well, actually, I would have fooled around. But just cuddling was fairly awesome, too. After breakfast -- yeah, Connor made me eat -- we started work on the canoe. Connor's family had one of those old aluminum canoes, propped up against the cabin wall; the plan was to really go exploring the lake, all the branches and coves and some parts even Connor hadn't really seen yet. The canoe had been outside all winter, though; so we had to work on it. Cleaning it wasn't too hard, although it wasn't much fun. (Sensations you shouldn't mind missing; shaking out an overturned canoe, nude, hoping spiders of something don't land on certain parts of your body.) (But it was kind of fun, watching Connor shake his side . . . ) It was just getting really warm out, as we launched the canoe, and -- carefully -- loaded up with some water, some food -- mostly trail mix and power bars -- and some towels. And a blanket. We didn't even discuss it; we just loaded it. We took a quick dip to cool off -- and yeah, it was STILL really cold, by the dock -- then we did the sunscreen thing again. This time, we did each other's bodies. All over; standing on the dock. In spite of all the sex we'd been having, we still got hard . . . We must have looked really funny, boners waving in front of us, as we went into the canoe, one after the other. If you've never tried it -- it takes some doing, to get into a canoe without tipping it over. And then we were set. Connor took the lead paddle. That was great for me; I had the perfect view. You know -- I'd always kind of thought that bodies are beautiful -- especially boys' bodies, of course -- but this weekend, I was beginning to realize just how beautiful they really were. Watching Connor paddle, for instance; it was just so beautiful, watching his arms and shoulders move, seeing the muscles in his back flex, all as he kneeled upright on his cushion; his back merging perfectly with his bare butt, with the soles of his feet showing last. I knew I was going into that butt, today. With my tongue and fingers, at least; maybe more. I shivered . . . But -- weirdly enough -- I kind of liked the way MY body looked, too; at least, what I could see of it. I felt good about it. Not like -- I don't know, naughty or pervy, someone doing something forbidden -- but more like a bare boy with a nice body, just enjoying himself. Like someone who was just a little bit beautiful, maybe. Plus -- it just feels really GOOD, exercising nude. Walking; running, whatever. If you've ever tried it, you know what I mean . . . so totally free; cool, all over, not sweating into your clothes, anywhere. Of course, the way Connor looked back at me, from time to time, helped. The first time, we almost tipped over. I really like the way he looks at me. The first part of the trip, it seemed like we paddled for hours. We went up a long, wide side branch of the lake, with really steep shelves of rock on either side, getting smoother and higher as the branch went on. It was kind of like being in a flooded Yosemite Valley, I told Connor. Well -- a really SMALL Yosemite Valley, maybe. He didn't have to laugh that hard. Paddling a two man canoe takes some rhythm; and we were both out of practice. Me, more than Connor. We eventually started paddling more in tandem, and halfway up the branch of the lake, we started moving more smoothly. The more smoothly we worked together, the more fun it was. Towards the far end of the branch, we came to a shelf. It was almost like a launching ramp; except it was smooth rock, just gently descending into the water. Further away from the water, there was a kind of screen of cottonwoods against the steeper rock wall; there was a stripe of wet rock leading down into the lake on the left, showing some sort of water seep. Connor steered us to the rock ramp, paddling slower. "This is a great place to haul out," he said, over his shoulder. "Besides, I'm getting hot; I could really use a swim." "Yeah, me too." The sun was warm, between the rock walls; I was beginning to sweat, and my shoulders and arms were getting really tired. Connor drove us up onto the rock ramp, and it shelved so gently, we heard the grating of the aluminum bottom on stone before we stopped moving. Then Connor levered himself up -- very, very carefully, as I counter balanced -- and put one foot over the side. It was a great position, for a second; his butt right in front of me, legs spread, his balls and dick dangling down; muscles working, as he climbed out, and then held the canoe for me to climb out. Somehow I managed it without spilling everything into the water. We carried the canoe up onto the shelf; and in a flash, without even unloading, we were back in the water, splashing and wresting together. "Wow!" I yelled. "It's so warm!" "It's shallow. I told you." "Yeah. So -- you were here before?" I kicked back in the water, a little. "Brian and me. Once when our parents were here, then -- " he paused, and didn't quite look me in the eyes. "Cool. Really cool." I looked around. "I can't believe how beautiful it is!" "Well, of course," he said in a smart-ass kind of tone. "If you go up this branch a little farther you hit the lower fork of the Merced River, and about a hundred miles more you come out a little farther on in Yosemite Valley, so -- " So of course I dived down, grabbed his legs and dunked him, and he retaliated by putting his legs around my waist, and I retaliated back by tweaking his nipples -- trying to, anyway -- while he was kind of lying on his back with his head still under water, and that made us both start trying to fight dirty -- which was fun -- until we both got a little tired; and decided to rest. Still dripping, we pulled the blanket out of the canoe, and spread it out up the shelf a little, sort of partway shaded by the trees. And there Connor was, nude, on his hands and knees facing away from me as he undid the last fold, and there on the blanket beneath the fold was a new tube of K-Y jelly. His idea. I'd brought hand lotion; but it was still with the food and water. That kind of put me over the edge. "Connor," I said, and grabbed his bare foot. Something in my voice made him freeze; he didn't look back at me. "Connor," I said again. I crawled closer, and put my hand on his hip. "Lie down. On your stomach. Please?" Without saying anything, he lay down, flexing and stretching a little on the blanket. I saw that he spread his legs, just a little. I wanted to get him relaxed and ready, before diving in. I straddled his butt -- feeling my bare balls on his skin like that made me make a noise I didn't know I could make -- and began touching him, massaging him; starting at the neck, the shoulders, slowly, gently, listening to the noises he made underneath me as I worked. I used my mouth and tongue, too. Kissing his cheek; licking his neck. Down his spine. Kneading; rubbing. Making him wet. I hitched myself backwards, off his butt, onto his legs; and he levered himself up briefly, adjusting his hard dick with one hand, and settled himself down. "No," I said. I lifted up his middle, gently, while I moved farther back on his legs, and I snaked my hand underneath him. "If your dick needs touching -- I'll be the one to do it." I squeezed his dick; but gently, gently, then very lightly moved my hand on it, not-quite stroking; then I pulled my hand out, and let him down again, slowly. We both knew what was coming. I backed up farther; and I spread his legs a little more, giving me room to lie down. I made sure to let my fingertips brush on that place between his balls and his anus, again, and he made an "ummmmph" noise that really got to me. This was it. This was the moment; this was so TOTALLY it. I got down on my stomach between Connor's legs, and his incredible, beautiful butt cheeks were right in front of me; and I rubbed my face against those cheeks, -- so warm against my face, in spite of the stray drops of water from our swimming -- and I was so, so inflamed, so fucking, raving HORNY for what was to come -- I have to explain. See -- EVERYTHING about Connor turns me on. His body; his brains; just who he is, the way he talks, the way he laughs -- I think my DNA is programmed to his. He just -- does that to me. But. >From the first day I ever saw Connor in the shower -- and a long, long time, before I knew him -- I'd been really fixated on that part of him. His butt, I mean. (I don't like the term "ass". It's so -- rude -- for a part of boys' bodies I really, really like. I mean; is there any part of a boy more beautiful? Even "butt" is sort of derogatory . . . Oh, well.) I even dreamed about rimming him, once, before we came out to each other. Honest; dreamed, as in, while I was sleeping. We were on a beach, and I pulled his shorts off -- It was a lot like what was happening now. I mean -- I love Connor; and if I could never, ever have any other kind of sex with him again, but one kind, I'd choose full-body, making-out-nude. No contest. But I was obsessed with his butt. Rimming him. Fucking him, too. And here I was. I licked the insides of his cheeks; spreading them, just a little, with my fingertips. Connor made a noise, and spread his legs wider. That was good. I really, REALLY wanted Connor to like this. I pushed my face between his buns, and tool a long, slow lick up his crack; from the back of his balls, almost, to the small of his back. Then I did it again. Ohhhhh, Jesus. Ohhhhh, yum. This, I decided right then -- this is right. What I was born to do. Meant to do. I nuzzled his buns, rubbing my face on them, in between them, and licked again, and I felt Connor move underneath me, wriggling his butt, pushing back against me a little. I spread his cheeks more with my fingers, and looked. His anus was a darker color than the rest of his skin down there. And yeah, the descriptions you read of it are right; it's a pucker, sure enough. Cute. So, so cute. And wet. I lapped at that pucker, slowly, deliberately; Connor squirmed again, and moaned. "Is this okay with you?" I whispered. "Yeah. Oh, yeah." He wriggled his butt again; and I lapped at his hole, again. Point of information. A boy's anus feels -- smooth -- under your tongue. And slick. "Urrrrggghhh," went my boyfriend, under my mouth. He pushed back a little again, against my tongue; he seemed to really like it when I pushed the point of my tongue on his anus. I thought I was getting in deeper. "Unnnngh . . . that's so good," he mumbled. I lapped, and tickled his smoothness, and we squirmed. "You're sure this is okay?" I whispered again. I was so, so into this; into doing this, and more, and going deeper -- it was really important to me that he was liking it too; not just trying to please me, but really liking it. He didn't say anything; he hitched up his middle again, a little, and a second later kind of leaned back, poking a finger in my direction. I had a hunch, so I sucked it into my mouth, the way I sucked in his dick. Yep. Connor's precum; I knew that taste. And lots of it. "This is incredible; I'm only worried I'll come too soon," he said, softly. "I can't even begin to tell you . . . are YOU sure you're okay with it?" Big, big nuzzle between his cheeks; then the tip of my tongue, ticking on his smooth pucker, then pressing. "Ohhhh . . . ," he went. "I could do this forever," I whispered. "Now -- relax. Open up for me." Lick; lap and poke. More moaning and twitching from my boyfriend. More moaning from me. I guess I went a little crazy. The thing is -- rimming is so, so, so much more intimate than just sucking. Sucking dick, that is; I was getting into sucking Connor's anus too, as well as the rest; and tickling it just a bit with my fingertips, and teasing it, then pulling back and looking at it a second, then burying my face in his cheeks and POKING again, because I really, really wanted deeper inside . . . Confession; I'd done homework, for this moment. Yeah; I'd dreamed about it, enough, so I'd read all the descriptions I could find on the internet, and seen a couple of video clips -- the free ones last about two seconds, but I'd done what I could -- and I even read a couple of excerpts from a how-to book. Be Prepared. So I remembered some of all that, and tried it; but I also went a little crazy, and worked on instinct, and just smothered myself deep into his butt, and invented new moves and swipes as I went along, and Connor moaned more and more, and just seemed to lose his inhibitions as he moved his butt against my face, my tongue, my mouth. I had to kind of half-kneel, finally, because if I'd stayed lying flat I would have come, just from rubbing against the blanket. Connor whispered something I didn't hear, then I felt him move underneath me, and something tapped against my head, and then my shoulder; and I came up for air. It was Connor's hand, holding the tube of K-Y. "Oh, Jesus," I breathed. "Oh, Jesus. Do you really want -- ?" "Yeah," he cut me off. "Come on; I really, really want this. Fuck me." "I don't want to hurt you." "I'll let you know, I promise. Now hurry up; if you rim me any more I'm going to come. And," he went on, "if you think you can do that to me for so long and NOT fuck me, you're, you're . . . " he stopped. "I really want this now, Scott. Okay?" I picked up the K-Y. I found out later that Connor had been practicing. No, not with his brother; with a dildo his brother got for him. And that Connor was really into getting fucked. He really, really likes it. I'm getting ahead of myself, again. With Connor still lying on his stomach, panting, spread-legged in front of me, I uncapped the tube, and squeezed some of the jelly onto my finger. I began massaging him, down there, with my slick fingertip; not going in, yet, just teasing; making circular motions, pressing, relaxing. If I thought he was moaning before -- wow. And the visuals, as I kneeled there; Connor, bare, my fingers massaging that central, secret spot in his butt; just seeing the way he moved, under my fingers -- I slipped my fingertip in, and wriggled it. "OOOoohhhh . . . " Out again, tickling around; then back, a little deeper. "OOOOHHHhhhh!" He pushed his butt up against my hand, driving more of my finger into him. I needed to touch him more; so still penetrating him, I lay down alongside him, pressing against him, exploring him with my finger. His face was turned towards me; his eyes were half-closed, and his mouth was open. I went to kiss his neck -- my mouth and face were still sloppy from eating out his butt for so long, and I wasn't sure he wanted to, like, kiss me, after me doing that to him -- but he hooked an arm around my neck, and pressed his mouth to mine, and it turned into a wet, wet kiss, as I moved my finger in, and out, and moved it around inside him. I slowly, gently added another finger. "Uuuurrrggghhhh . . . " Connor moaned into my mouth. "Oh, that feels good. So good." He moved his arm down my front, and grabbed my dick. "Don't!" I took his hand away, gently. "Too close," I whispered. To make it up to him, I went back to kissing him. I was in him pretty deep with my fingers, now; his anus squeezing on me felt smooth, and slick, a tight ring, but a lot looser than when we started. And yeah -- I'd done some homework on this, too. I found his prostate, and was brushing it every now and then; every time I did he flinched and gasped. I really, really enjoyed doing that. Moving my fingers around; deeper, less deep, then deep inside again, then twisting my wrist and making him jump, and groan. I REALLY liked that. I began to wonder if it was time . . . "Brian said to use three fingers," gasped Connor. Word of advice. Before leaving on a camping/sex trip with your boyfriend -- always trim and file your nails really, really close; as close and smooth as you can. I did; and I was sure grateful, now. I had to lift up for a second, to get the lube; I squeezed out some more down there, worked it around with my free fingers, then -- really slowly -- began pushing in my third finger, my ring finger. "Wait," gasped Connor. I froze. "Take it easy; make it feel good, ok?" Maybe I was getting a little over anxious. I pulled my two fingers almost all the way out, and began making more circular, teasing motions, tickling him inside really, just gently adding the very tip of my third finger every once in awhile; then dipping in a little deeper, then out, circle, tease again, a little deeper -- Then in. Shallow, but three fingers. "All right?" I whispered. "Yeah. Go ahead. Slow, though." More teasing; more shuddering, more gasping, by Connor. Three fingers is NOT easy to take; Connor had me stop, twice, to let him get more used to it; my hand was also getting a little tired, from the twisting, and the position. Plus my balls were beginning to ache; I really wanted to come. Needed to. And my cock was leaking. I had a big wet patch on the blanket, where I lay. It didn't help when Connor swiped some of my precum off my dick with his fingers, and put them in his mouth. Connor pulled my face back to his, for another kiss. "Ooooofffff," he moaned, as I twisted my fingers. "Okay, okay. Do it now. Please?" "Sure? Sure you're ready?" What a moment. Hard as anything; my stomach in a knot. "Yes! Come on, do it!" I scrambled up on my knees, awkwardly, leaving my fingers in him,. Thank God the tube of K-Y was still uncapped. I managed to squeeze some out on my dick -- it felt COLD -- and smear it around with my free hand; still moving my fingers around inside Connor. Then I moved up Connor's legs, straddling them, and I kind of leaned over his back to get my dick lined up. I had to bend over like that. I was so hard -- no way I could have pointed it down. "Come on," he groaned. "Hurry!" I -- Shit. I go into overload, just THINKING about what came next. My first fuck. OUR first fuck. I'll never, ever, forget it. Ever. It's like a series of pictures, images, impressions in my mind. The sight of the head of my cock between his cheeks, glistening, as I pulled out my fingers and found the right place to start pushing. The feeling of Connor squirming underneath my chest, as he pushed back a little, helping me. Trying to fuck himself on my dick! The way my cock head looked, as I pushed in, gently; kind of squeezed, kind of distorted, then slowly -- disappearing -- inside him . . . The feelings; ooohhhhh, the feelings . . . Not so much from my cockhead; but his anal muscles gripping my dick as I slipped in, slowly, slowly, like a tight circle of thumb and finger around my dick, but slick, and so much tighter and smoother than fingers could be . . . And Connor gasping as I slipped in the first inch, and me loving him so much, then and there . . . "Okay?" "Yes. No, wait." "Want me to pull out?" "No! Stay there." I held on to his waist and moved with him as he slowly rolled us onto our sides. He ended up bent at the middle, a bit, my dick still in him, partway. "Ooohhhhh . . . that's better." He reached back and put his top hand on my hip. "Now go on. More." I pushed in deeper, slowly, until he gasped again. "Stop?" I whispered. "No! It's all right. It doesn't really hurt. A little . . . uncomfortable. But good. Incredibly intense." I felt him pushing back on me, a little, and I felt my dick moving deeper. "More," he whispered. I wrapped my arm around his smooth chest and pulled him back to me, and began nuzzling his neck and feeling up his chest; and at the same time, pushed a little more, and a little more, and Connor kept gasping, but he didn't stop me, and then, I felt that slick ring of muscle gripping the very base of my dick, and I was pressed really hard against his butt, and I moved my top leg over his, and kissed his neck over and over and over again . . . I was inside Connor. "Are you all the way in?" he whispered. "Yeah." I guided his top hand down between us, moving my leg to give him room; I felt him feeling my balls, and where my dick was up deep inside him. "Oooohhhh," he moaned again, sort of pressing his head and body back against me. I held him tighter with my free arm. "How is it?" I was still really worried about hurting him. Almost out of my mind with love and lust; on the edge of an orgasm, especially when his anal ring spasmed around the base of my dick; feeling almost unreal and unbelieving at the intensity of the whole experience -- but yeah, still not wanting to hurt him. This time he was the one take my hand, bringing it down to his cock. It was almost all the way hard. In case you haven't tried it, or didn't know -- it is really, really tough to keep your dick hard while you're getting fucked. REALLY tough; it's a male plumbing thing. Even tougher for someone getting fucked the first time. Connor did it, though. I played with his dick, gently; and it got full-on hard, fast. As it did, he squeezed down on my dick more often, with his anal muscles. Now it was me, gasping. Connor moved his butt back against me, in little motions, beginning to fuck himself on my dick, and moving his dick around in my lube-slippery fist at the same time. And the sounds he made; Jesus. Just remembering the sounds he made can get me hard and dripping now. Okay. More images; more impressions. Call it, "Scott's book report on fucking my boyfriend For The Very First Time." First off -- what fucking someone really feels like. Fucking a boy, I mean. Well -- I've read the stories, and descriptions. Just like getting sucked -- reality check. For me, anyway, being up inside Connor was NOT like being inside a `scalding hot love chute', or a `velvety smooth love channel'. Actually -- it's more like getting jerked off, than getting sucked. Which in some ways is better; more familiar, easier to get off. Like I said -- it feels like a really tight ring of fingers, or a thumb and finger making an OK sign, moving up and down your dick. Only tighter than you could make your thumb and finger. Lots tighter. And really slick. It feels unbelievably great. But what's REALLY HOT is -- just being there; inside somebody else, feeling his soft butt against your pubes, holding his body in your arms . . . the whole reality is just so overwhelming; as I lay there, with Connor, the back of my mind was going, "Oh fuck I'm inside him I'm fucking him I'm fucking him I'm fucking my boy I'm fucking my boyfriend . . . " It's magic. Second -- the whole `pounding, piledriving, thrusting in and out so fast my dick caught fire' school of description -- Nope. Maybe someday -- but nobody like that is getting near MY butt anytime soon, and nobody like that is getting near Connor, either. He says. Here's the thing. Sex is about two (or more) people doing sexual things -- together. It's about getting somebody ELSE to orgasm, while he gets YOU to orgasm; it's cooperation. Caring for the other boy. While he care for you. Which is a hundred times more fun than masturbation. More. Which is why, while I lay there, holding Connor, moving around just a little inside him -- I wanted, I really, really wanted, to make it good for him. Just as well, too. Without that to think about I would have spermed inside him as soon as I got all the way in. So I told him. "Connor?" "Ummmm . . . ?" It was more a groan than anything else. "Tell me . . . when I do something you like. Okay?" I nibbled on his neck. "I really want to make you come. I do." "Ummmmgh!" He arched his butt back onto my dick again, really pressing. "Okay," he whispered, panting a little. "I think I'm ready; start, you know, moving around. Slow!" "Wait a sec. Lift up, a little." He did, and I slid my lower arm all the way underneath him, around his bare chest. Now I could hold him, and jack him, as I fucked. And so I did. Start to fuck, I mean. I started moving my hips; in and out a little, but also up and down, and jerking, and in a kind of circle -- as best I could; it's kind of awkward in the side by side position -- and Connor began moving his butt more, and I was going a little bit further out, and a little bit faster when I went back in, and I was just whimpering in Connor's ear and his neck -- And Connor did it; he began telling me what he liked. No big speeches; just saying things like "Yes," and "Oohhhh, that's really good," and "That spot right there," and stuff like that. As I kept fucking him. I wasn't going to last much longer. So I told him that, too. "Wait," he whispered, and I froze, deep in him. "I want to try something." He pushed himself up on one arm, and started rolling us over onto my back -- me still balls deep inside him. In a second he was lying on me, his back to my front, one of my arms wrapped around him, my other hand holding his dick like it was my own. "Urrrgghhh . . . !" he moaned. He splayed his legs out, and began trying to fuck himself on me. I loved, loved, loved this position. The weight of Connor pressing down on me; the whole full-body-contact thing, plus I could get at his dick SO much better, and I began to roll my hips up in little fucking motions, in time with Connor's rocking, plus I even got to play with his beautiful (well, I couldn't actually SEE them without craning my neck, but I knew they were beautiful) nipples . . . "Oooofff -- Wait!" he went again, "Stop, stop!" "What?" I whispered. "I almost came. I don't want, to yet." He put his hand over mine, where I held his dick, gently keeping me from stoking him, and we lay there a second, panting, looking up on the leaves on the cottonwoods, feeling the breeze cool our bare bodies. "Let's try this," he whispered, and began carefully maneuvering us around, onto our sides, then me on top, then finally on our hands and knees, Connor with his head and chest down on the blanket, me holding his hips. You can fuck somebody really, really deep that way. And really move around, find different spots inside him, really get your partner to moan. I did. I think it's a great position, for a bottom -- I know I like getting fucked that way, myself - - but it's harder for the fucker to get at the bottom's prostate, that way. Maybe that's why we did it, for a few more minutes; just to keep from sperming right then. And then, Connor got us to try another position. And then another one. Turns out -- Connor had a whole set of ideas to try out. On how to get fucked. We tried a lot of them. Sideways, again; half-sideways, with him on his side, me more on top. Front ways; him on his stomach, flat out, me on top again . . . I really liked that one. I don't think it was Connor's favorite, but I found a way to just kind of fuck straight down into him, with just the first few inches of my dick, that really hit his spot and made him whimper and squirm and squeal, before he made me stop again. Hands and knees, again; then face to face . . . Kissing him, while we fucked; ahhhhh . . . . I couldn't last; I just couldn't, in spite of taking rests, not moving, changing positions. >From the way his dick was leaking -- he couldn't, either. "Connor," I whispered. "I'm going to come. Sorry." I gasped; I felt it building, there was no way I could stop. We were -- kind of side by side, but me more kind of on top of him, too. We'd gotten a little disorganized, just rolling around, towards the end. "Do it," he whispered back. "Go on." He gasped, as I fucked in, again. "Do it inside me." So I did. It was one of those orgasms that maybe happen once or twice in your life; I was pulsing so, so fast, so hard, so, so, hard, it was like one big long spurt, and I just held him so tight and pressed my face against his neck and shoulder and whimpered as I pushed my dick in so deep, squirting, squirting -- And just as I was slowing down I felt this incredible squeezing around the base of my dick, and something wet and warm him my arm, and the squeezing went on and on as I shuddered and Connor went "unnngh, unnngh, unnnnnggghhhhhh -- !" and his body kept jerking in my arms, and I looked down, and saw that he'd finished himself off with his hand . . . and his face was all screwed up, so I kissed and licked it as he spasmed and spasmed . . . We collapsed. Well, I collapsed, anyway; more onto my side, me still in him; crazy with the feelings, and the realization of what we'd just done. Holding Connor tight, still. His anal muscles were still giving little twitches, and spasms, as he came down from his orgasm. It felt good. We rested there, for a minute; not saying anything. Listening to the sound of the breeze, in the branches over us. "Do you want me to pull out?" I whispered, finally. What I really wanted to say was, "I love you." But I was too scared. Of him not saying it back. "No. Just stay there, awhile." When we DID get to saying it -- five days later -- turns out, Connor had wanted to say the same thing, right then. But was also scared. I still wish I'd said it then. But it turned out okay. We must have snuggled like that for half an hour, at least; then my dick kind of plopped out by itself, and I felt a cool, gooey mess on my pubes -- my own sperm, it turned out -- and I ignored it, and we fell asleep. Makes sense; we hadn't gotten all that much sleep, the night before. ************************************************************************ The next chapter is coming soon. Comments are welcome, to dlgrantsf@yahoo.com. I'm not particularly fishing for compliments; I'm mostly curious about how many people are following this story. Thanks, to everyone who has already written! And, thanks for reading.