Date: Mon, 6 Dec 2021 21:45:16 +0000 (UTC)
From: atlantisguy@aol.com
Subject: After Game Night -- Part 3 (Gay -- Adult Friends)

***Note that the following story is a work of semi-fiction, or maybe
"inspired by a true story." Part is 100% true, and part is fantasy, and
I leave it to the reader to determine which is which. Certain details
have been tweaked to protect the "innocent." By all means, send
feedback along to AtlantisGuy@aol.com***



After Game Night  --  Part 3



Well, let's just say that the next Game Night was... tense.

The problem? Nick and I didn't really resolve what was going on between
us. After that second round, with some of the most mind-blowing sex I
ever had in my life, we had collapsed next to each other... and Nick asked
the immortal question, "What the fuck are we doing?"

Physically spent, my mind a blank, and my body still roaring with new
sensations, I had absolutely nothing to say, and I didn't want to even
think. So I punted, blurting out the first thing that came to my
hormonally-addled brain:  "Well... we're fucking."

Nick punched me in the arm.

I whined, "What's that for?"

"That's it, you smartass? That's your answer? Wow. That's some
Grade-A thinking there, Buck. A real top-rate mind you've got."

"Well, *I* don't know... what do you want me to say?" I realized I was
feeling... irritated. I mean, Nick asked a fair question. He asked *the*
question. But I didn't want to go there. I wanted to enjoy the moment...
not think about all the considerable implications--and
complications--that were staring us in the face.

Nick propped himself up on his elbow and turned a ferocious stare at me.
"Aw, shit man... are you gonna freak out on me?"

"What? No! I was just... c'mon, I was just... you know, in the moment."
If I had stopped there, things would have likely gone differently, given
ourselves time to take a breath. Alas... I pushed on. "But, I mean...
this... this is complicated. We could end up blowing up our lives."

Nick sat up fully at that and gave me a leveled stare. "Did you like
what we did?"

Christ. He went there. Right there, right then, there was no way I could
lie. Not covered in our mutual sweat, our mutual cum. "Well, yes.
But...." Again, my mind was blank, and I went for the first thing I
thought of: "But... I love my wife, you know?"

"I love *my* wife!" Nick shot back reflexively.

"Dude! *You* came *here!* And I sure didn't miss that you weren't
wearing underwear!"

"Oh yeah? Your hands aren't clean. You fucking pulled me inside... and
*you* kissed *me* like it was the last breath of life!"

Well. That escalated rapidly. I was somehow both amped up, and locked in
a defensive crouch. I shot back, far louder than I intended, "That
didn't mean anything!"

Shit. Why did I say that? I mean... well, did it?

Nick ran his hand roughly across his jaw and looked into the distance.
"This was a mistake."

Still irritated, I snarked out, "*Once* would have been a mistake. Twice
is...."

I never finished the thought. Nick just looked at me for a second, and
seeing his face, I froze. I had no idea what was going through his mind.
Hell, I had no idea what was going through *my* mind. But I was pretty
sure I just torpedoed any chance of finding out.

"Later," he said flatly, as he gathered up his stuff and left.

Leaving me alone with my thoughts, fears, and... uncertainty.

Where the hell did all that come from? Why did I respond like that?
Jesus... that was some of the best, most intense sex of my life. My body
was *still* reeling from the experience. So why was I so defensive? Why
was I afraid to admit the obvious? Or even learn if Nick was feeling
anything similar?

Well, grimly, I knew *exactly* why I responded like that. Guys are
horrible at talking about their feelings. Married straight guys are
incredibly horrible at talking about their feelings. Married straight
guys who unexpectedly have their entire notions of masculinity,
sexuality, and self-identity blown up are piss-poor *awful* about talking
about their feelings. Great. So in less than 24 hours, I had shredded my
view of self, sex, and family, and likely taken out a long-standing
friendship to boot... with, of course, the one guy I knew who could
actually relate to all this bullshit.

Nicely done, Buck. Not even noon and I needed a drink.

The rest of the weekend gave me ample time for a mental reckoning.  I
really *did* love my wife Nan. I really did have a view about us as a
family, and my place in it, my role in it. And what kind of guy I was.
Sure, I had thought at some point about what it would be like to be with
another guy, but just in the abstract. I certainly never thought I'd
dive head-first into the deep end the very first chance I got. But I
did... and had a sore ass to prove it.

But one thing was clear. My body was on fire and knew what it needed,
regardless of whatever issues my brain was wrestling with. When Nan got
home later... well, let's just say I went after her *hard.* But it was...
different than being with a guy. With Nick. Sex with her was... good. It
was fun. And I don't mean that in a bad way, but it was... fun. Playful.
But I couldn't help but think of Nick, and how things with him were...
wild. Furious. Screamingly intense. He *pushed* me, and I had to push
back to keep up. I *unleashed* myself with him, and came out wildly
invigorated. Feeling alive.

Sex with Nan made me feel like a devoted husband. Sex with Nick made me
feel like... a Man. Like a fucking hero of old.

But that circled back to Nick's question: what the fuck *were* we doing?
What did it mean for us? For our wives?

With no final answer to that, and no answer as to what Nick himself was
feeling, I went in to that week's Game Night with absolute dread. So
much so, I showed up as late as possible to our usual rendezvous at
Greg's house, hoping that things would be under way and I could slide in
with minimal fuss.

Alas, Nick had the same idea, and was later than I was. With two of us
being so late, they had held off on setting up until we were all there.
Plus, we had one of our semi-regular guys join us that week as well. The
extra man meant we had to slightly alter our usual seating arrangement,
and as the last two to arrive, Nick and I ended up sitting next to each
other.

Awkward.

The first 15 minutes or so were painful, as we both were so desperate to
tamp down any hint of something going on between us that we ridiculously
avoided each other, even though we were sitting so close our elbows
almost touched.

Mercifully, as gameplay started our natural competitiveness kicked in and
our self-consciousness ebbed away. Helped by a significant amount of
booze. In truth, one of the standing rules we played by was "always
screw Greg"--Greg was easily the best player among us and a ready target
for anti-Greg alliances to keep him in check. In fact, Nick and I fell
into a natural rhythm in our play--a wordless, mutually agreed-upon
strategy directed at taking down Greg. And it was working. At one point
led Greg to jab a finger at us and bellow, "Fuck you two! Are you
fuckers signaling under the table?" Nick and I started theatrically
kicking each other, then even more theatrically playing "footsie,"
which elicited bellows of laughter from around the table, and some choice
words from Greg. In that shared mission, in our shared laughter, and the
ongoing rough-and-tumble of gameplay, a lot of the tension between us
evaporated. Nick didn't even look over at me; he didn't have to, I
sensed we'd reached detente.

We finished in good order, with tempers restored all around. The drinks,
the ball-busting, the puffed-up posturing and explosive insults
had--oddly enough--a salubrious effect on me, making me feel more
grounded and relaxed. More myself. Like one of the guys.

And I have to say, I was watching Nick with new eyes, and a new
appreciation. He was masculine poetry in motion. Cocky, but
collaborative. Active, gung-ho, and action-oriented. And to any objective
eye, hot as hell. No longer the college-age pretty boy I'd met years
back. He had grown into his features, which were... now more angular.
Somehow rougher. And he was intensely masculine... in his gestures, in his
bearing, his expressions, everything.

And *fuck* he was hot. And the memory of us together... fuck, *that* was
hot. The memory tugged at all my senses at once. The scrape of his
stubble as his mouth moved across me. The low, guttural sound of his sex
noises when something was going particularly well. The scent of his musk
as I went down on him. All things I had never associated with sex before,
but were now burned into my mind. I had to literally shake my head to
clear it those memories a couple times, and hope that my precum wasn't
making a wet spot through my jeans.

It was at one of those points where I suspected that I had found the
answers I was looking for.

We finished up, and Greg started putting the stuff away as general
conversation broke out. Needing some space, I called out, "Hey guys,
long day tomorrow. I'm heading out." Most of the guys nodded without
really looking up. Nick similarly turned his head toward the gang and
shouted "Later!" and sped up to walk out with me.

Funny how his one-word farewell had a much different ring this time.

A few steps down the sidewalk I lightly grabbed his arm, and we stopped
and faced each other. I wanted to kill off any remaining awkwardness
between us, and to clean the slate. "Nick... look, I'm sorry about how
things ended up over the weekend. I... my head was.... Shit, I just got all
defensive. I'm not trying to come between you and your wife, or to mess
up your life... look, I get it. I didn't mean to freak out on you. I'm...
sorry. No hard feelings?"

Nick nodded. "No, I get it. My mind was all over the place, and I just
reacted, too." He drew a long breath, then let it out. He looked over
his shoulder for a second, and went on quietly. His cockiness subsumed by
a need to get his thoughts out. "And... well, the intensity of what we
did just really threw me. Not in a bad way! I really did love what we
did. It was... fucking unbelievable. No regrets. None at all."

I have to say, hearing him say that lifted a *huge* weight off my
shoulders. I mean, I *thought* he liked it, but it was a huge relief
hearing him say it... and say it openly, and thoughtfully, rather than in
the throes of passion or that he was just trying to get me into the sack.
It made it more real, and made me feel like less of a freak or some sort
of perv. We were in this together. And best of all, it felt like we were
still... well, we were still... guys.

But based on the thinking I'd done, there was still more to say. Before
I could overthink things and talk myself out of it, I started in with
what was in my mind. "Me neither. I loved every bit of it. In fact,
well... maybe we...."

Nick cut me off with a grin. "I'd be up for a rematch, if that's what
you're thinking."

Relief transmuted into something else entirely. I got so hard, so fast,
that I'm surprised I didn't rip a hole in my jeans.

But the chance for any further conversation was swept away, as we could
hear the sounds from inside Greg's house that meant that the rest of the
goons were on their way out the door. I bit down what I wanted to say,
and instead gave a hearty yell that I'd check in with him later. Of
course, I was hard as a steel girder as I walked back to the car... doing
that "hardon-waddle" to keep from showing everyone just how excited our
conversation had made me.

Alas, that "rematch" was a long time in coming. As Nick mentioned that
first night we got together, his wife's sister had just moved in so she
could get on her feet, which pretty much torpedoed any kind of free time
at Nick's house. And since my wife had just been traveling, she wasn't
going anywhere either. Nick and I didn't live far from each other, not
exactly, but we were hardly close neighbors who could drop in on a
moment's notice. Some time passed; and outside the occasional text, all
we had were fleeting moments at Game Night, where we had to ride a very
fine line between flirting and "just joking around."

In the meantime, I had plenty of time to think. And to remember. And to
fantasize.

Finally, one Saturday morning I got a message. Still a bit bleary, I
grabbed the phone, and squinted to read it. Fuck. It was from Nick:
"Ladies gone on errands thru lunch. Can u stop by?"

I don't know how I was able to respond; testosterone and adrenaline
flooded my body, making my hands shake so badly I could barely type.
Everything inside me was screaming DAMN THE TORPEDOES, BOLT FOR THE DOOR,
but somehow I had the presence of mind to slow down--to get myself
together and act casually enough to allay suspicion. I tried to keep my
voice from soaring several octaves above normal as I rambled the first
excuse I could think of about where I was going: "Hey sweetie, Nick's
put out a call for help. He's moving some stuff and bit off more than he
can chew. I gotta go for a bit"

"Don't hurt yourself!" she called out... and I had the song "Hurts so
Good" looping through my mind as I threw on some clothes and a baseball
cap.

I got out of the house casually enough, but once in the car, I absolutely
redlined it over to Nicks. Harder than granite. I have no idea how I got
from my car to his door, but there he was greeting me, wearing nothing
but gym shorts.

Fuck, Nick was hot. I mean, Jesus... how are there not a line of
women--and men--not lined up, sniffing around his door trying to hook up
with him? I had never really responded to the sight of a male body, but
everything about him was making me fucking *burn.* The scruff of his jaw.
The muscles of his arms. His chest. Jesus, his chest! It was... it was so
casually impressive. Alive with muscles, but still natural... not the
too-bulked up artificiality of too many male models. Those were real
muscles, not for show. Which made *him* more real. And the sight of his
chest hair... proud proof of masculinity. Especially that teasing happy
trail running down below his waist line, leading to a hairy dick and a
pair of hairy balls that were making me sweat just thinking about them.
He was tenting out his shorts, welcoming me.

We knew what we wanted. Whatever doubts we had, whatever proclamations we
had made about loving our wives were gone. Although we never really said
a word about it, we had made peace with everything... and now words were
unnecessary. We were just a pair of males ready to rut like a pair of
Grizzly bears.

As the door slammed shut behind me, I slammed into Nick. Our lips met in
what was more like being whacked with a 2x4a than a kiss. And he hit me
right back, full force. Our tongues were halfway down each other's
throats as my hands dug into him. Feeling his skin. Running up the back
of his neck and through his hair. Fuck. One of his hands slid up the side
of my face while the other grabbed at the back of my neck. Fuck. FUCK.
Our mouths ground at each other, like whetstones grinding down a blade.

I don't know how long we were kissing, but when we finally blasted
apart, we were both gasping for breath. We were both making sounds,
somewhere between a grunt and a sharp moan. God... he was so fucking hot,
and completely overwhelming my senses.

Our lips collided against each other again and again, with us both making
animal noises as we panted out our breaths *hard*. Our hard cocks were
rubbing through the material of our clothes. At one point, I reached
around and drove my hand down his back, past the waistband of his shorts
and down across that magnificent ass... my middle finger sliding down his
crack, and feeling the furry drag of the hair in that muscular trench.

God, I wanted him. God, I NEEDED him.

I pulled back, and without any hesitation dropped to me knees. His hairy
cock was going to be mine. I reached in to grab his shaft, then pulled
off his shorts in one rapid movement. His hairy crotch was there before
me in all its glory.

The scent of his musk filled my nose and snapped whatever civilized
control I had left. I grabbed his ass with my hands, and drove my face
into his crotch. Breathing him, letting his musky balls scent me,
dragging my mouth across his bush. Above me, I heard him belt out "Fuck
YEAH man, fucking WORSHIP ME!"

He didn't need to tell me twice.

I started off on his balls, taking them each in my mouth, savoring their
sweaty tang and rolling my tongue around them as I sucked them hard. "Aw
fuck!" His hands instinctively grabbed my head, and started running his
fingers through my hair. He knew he didn't need to guide me with his
hands; he had rock sold faith I had everything under control.

His balls were a necessary first step, but I needed that rock hard slab
of man meat between his legs, standing tall, proud and straight as a flag
pole.

I hungrily slid my mouth other his cock head, sucking hard. I puckered up
my lips, and mouth-fucked him several times in rapid succession. He let
out an explosive gasp that turned into a feral growl.  After a moment's
pause to catch my breath, I drove down as far as I could, inhaling his
cock as I went. Pushing as far as I possibly could.

I tried and keep going, desperate to mimic deep throating scenes from all
the pornos I had watched. But it was not to be... I was way too
inexperienced to swallow down his full length, and I nearly gagged
myself. I made up for it by using every trick I could think of as I slid
up and down his rock-hard shaft.

Nick *bellowed* louder than a band of Vikings charging into battle. There
were no actual words, just the roar of pure unadulterated *lust* as his
dick slid into my hungry mouth, getting teased with my tongue. I
couldn't match him sound for sound with his cock filling my throat, but
my mind was screaming out twice as loud. This was a fucking primal
*moment.* I had a guy's fucking *dick* in my mouth!  The core of his
masculinity was mine! I felt... fucking wild. It was so fucking hot, and
he was absolutely living for it. It was such a fucking sense of
accomplishment. Or maybe better, a sense of triumph--of knowing I was
giving my bud a gift that all guys *dream* about and girls rarely give: a
Grade-A blow job. Taking his dick *deep* inside my mouth and sucking like
my fucking life was on the line.

As exciting as that experience was, I was just getting started. I pulled
back so just that meaty cockhead was in my mouth and then I set to drive
him crazy with my tongue. I swept it in circles around the edge of his
cockhead before switching it up to ticking his piss slit with the tip.
Sucking as hard as I could to keep maximum pressure on him. He groaned
loudly, and clutched at my shoulders, trying to lean in harder into my
mouth.

Enough of the finesse shit, I needed to switch to power. I drove back
down his shaft again, now slick with my spit. I wrapped my fist around
him and started jacking him in a twisting fashion while I mouth-fucked
him, and he lost his shit. Nick staggered to try and keep his balance,
with his knees nearly buckling as the sensations overthrew him in both
body and mind. I was fucking aggressive, laying it on hard and thick with
my mouth.

Fuck it was hot... I couldn't believe how hot it was. A short time ago I
could never have seen myself doing anything like this. But I was getting
as much out of this as he was. I was delivering to him exactly what I
wanted in a blow job, bowing to animal passion. And we were *connected.*
In a dance of absolute masculinity. The... sounds of us... his cries of
passion layered with the obscenely wet slurping as I sucked him off. The
scent of his musk, made more intense by the hormones that had been
flooding his body all morning. The feel of skin on skin....

I realized that Nick had doubled over, and was fucking my mouth while
desperate to hold his balance. Thrusting. His breath ragged. We were
going to be falling all over each other in a second, and not in a good
way. I pulled off him with an audible *pop* and a gasp from my guy.
"Over here!" I snarled out, as I all but threw him down on his nearby
sofa. I wrenched off his shorts so violently from around his ankles that
I thought I would rip them, but I didn't give a fuck. I pushed his legs
apart and now had free reign of his cock.

The next few minutes were incredibly intense. I went back to burying my
face in his hairy balls, lapping at them and taking them into my mouth,
while I roughly jacked his dick. Nick arched his back and barked out
encouragement. No longer holding him up, I ran my hands across this
torso, fascinated by the feel of his man fur. With one hand I reached up
to pinch his nipples, which brought out a hiss that grew into a proper
growl. Nick was completely lost in the moment--his left hand wildly
rubbing his face and neck, while his right raked through my hair.

I had enough. Suddenly all I could think about was swallowing his load...
tasting his spunk. I went back onto his cock full-stop and unleashed the
Kraken. I did a combo of sucking him hard while jerking him even harder.
Relentless. A force of nature. Nick's ongoing growls ratcheted up in
intensity to full blown bellows as his body started bucking in time with
my mouth. I kept on, harder. Harder. HARDER.

And finally he crossed the point of no return. His cries became ragged
and I could feel his body rolling underneath me. His balls squeezed up
and then he fucking *exploded* in my mouth. I had no idea what my plan
was, but it was swept away by the fucking *wave* after *wave* of cum that
hit me so hard, so fast, I thought I was drowning. Nick absolutely
screamed as he shot, and his whole body about convulsed off the couch.
Still, the cum kept coming. I swallowed as much as I could, but ended up
having to open my mouth and let the rest blurt out into his hairy crotch.

I leaned back on my haunches and tried to catch my breath... damn, my jaw
was tired. Nick sat there in the full blaze of glory, his limbs slayed
wildly and his head thrown back. I took in the frantic rise and fall of
his hairy chest as he tried to get his breathing under control.

After a few seconds, he popped his head up, with a massive shit-eating
grin and his eyes absolutely sparkling with glee. If he was tired, he
gave no outward sign. Instead, he said simply, "My turn."

He leaned forward and hauled me up, planting a big wet kiss on my
well-used mouth. "C'mon!" he said, as he rushed me into the bedroom.

I gathered that Nick had had at least a few minutes to prepare as I
rocketed over here--he had laid out a knit bedspread on top of his bed,
trying to keep the... uh, spillage... off the sheets. And he had a couple
of extra towels at hand.

Good thinking.

Building off my excitement, he moved in to undo my jeans, pulling them
down in a couple of rapid, determined tugs. I flipped my shirt over my
head as he did so, and in a flash was naked as he was, except for my
socks... I was way to horned up to spend any more time with them.

Nick pushed me down so I was sitting at the edge of the bed, smiled up at
me, and then fucking attacked my dick with his mouth. There was no
fanfare, no titillation; neither of us needed it. I gasped loudly as he
locked his lips around me and then fucking *inhaled* me down his throat.

"FUUUUUUUUUCK!!" I screamed out, taken aback by the intensity of the
sensation. I was reminded that even as absolute rookie, Nick was light
years ahead of any woman who had ever blown me. And Jesus... it was like
he was more into blowing me than I was at getting blown. There was no
pause. No hesitation. Just a wave of pleasure unlike anything I had felt
as he fucking *sucked* me, rolling my cockhead in his mouth and playing
with my shaft. He was relentless, moving fast as he dove down again and
again, and again and again.

Way too soon, I could feel that familiar roar in my head building as I
realized I was overstimulated and set to blow. Desperate to prolong
things, I put a restraining hand on his head and hissed out, "Dude!
Dudedudedudedude! Wait! Slow... slow... slow. I'm way too close." He
indeed slowed, and I moaned out "You are doing *nothing* wrong, but I'm
way too fired up. I don't want to end things just yet!"

Nick sloooooowly pulled off my dick entirely, letting it slurp out of his
mouth with an obscene, wet slap against my torso. "I bet you have more
than one round in you," he said with an evil smirk. "But there are
other parts of yours I want to get to!"

I gave out a grateful chuckle, and watched as he moved lower, sliding his
mouth around my hairy balls.

While his blowjob was hammer-strokes and fireworks, his technique around
my balls was all languid sensuality. It should have been illegal what he
was doing with his tongue... God, it was like my balls were crackling with
life. The sensation was wet and titillating, yet very much *alive*... like
small electrical charges were sparking all across my skin. He took my
balls into his mouth, the suction causing me to catch my breath in
wonder. He bathed them over and over, causing me to squirm restlessly...
barely able to focus.

When he judged it was safe, he went back to my dick, but this time he
moved his tongue across it in slow, wet lines. Spirals. Teasing me. He
did a long, streaking lick that went from the tip all the way down to my
balls, where he again sucked on my sack, this time jacking me slowly. The
whole while, I was letting loose with a nearly incomprehensible slur of
vulgarities that allowed for no misunderstanding of how appreciative I
was.

But we both wanted more. To really take me in, Nick needed a different
position. So, he pulled back and hauled me onto the center of the bed,
still laying on my back. Then he cantilevered himself so that he was
facing downward toward my feet. And then, he took my dick *deep* down his
throat.

God, I bellowed like a bull running through the streets of Pamplona. His
mouth was so... fucking *tight*. With actual *suction*. And his tongue
snaked down my shaft as he went.  It was the executive package of
sensations... a blowjob that lit up every part of me. For several minutes
I closed my eyes and rolled my head side to side, just basking in the
best blowjob of my entire life.

But then I raised my head.

Looking up, I realized that the way Nick was positioned, his hairy ass
was inches from my face as he kneeled next to me. The sensations, the
hormones, the fucking *memory* of that hot-as-fuck ass swept over me.
Without thought, without hesitation, I grabbed him and pulled one of his
knees across me, so he was straddling me. With his ass opened, inches
from my face. His butt-funk filled my nose... the primal scent of sex. MAN
sex. Somehow, my dick got even harder.

I drove my face into his hairy crack.

The next couple of minutes were a blur. Sensations overwhelmed me, but I
got over myself and started eating that hairy ass like it was my last
meal on earth. My tongue found his pucker and dove inside as deep as I
could. Then I pulled back and started circling his hole, making out with
him... then locking on and sucking for all I was worth.

It was amazing. Nick, who was already *well* fired up, came alive like a
fucking wild boar in heat. He fucking *howled* his lungs out, but with my
cock halfway down his throat there was little sound... just a fucking
*wild* vibration that fucking rattled my world. Nick *slammed* his ass
against me, desperate for more. Desperate for sensations.

And I gave it to him. His berserker wilding sparked off an awakening
inside me, determined to match him in intensity. I fucking *lapped* his
hairy hole, wildly thrashed my face from side to side, and then raped him
with my tongue. Faster and faster, shifting again and again to keep him
off balance. He thrashed against me, and went down harder than before on
my cock.

His intense reaction sparked a counterreaction in me. I was losing
control... and FUCK it was hot. Jesus, the power of those muscles as he
desperately ground his ass into my face, the heat of him, his scent... it
was all lighting up my reptile brain like no other sex I'd ever had. It
was all almost too much for me. I ate his ass like a hyena ripping apart
a dead antelope... thrusting, driving my tongue in, faster, rougher,
shaking his whole frame as I dug in. Despite having shot a massive load
only a few minutes before, he was hard as a rock.

Enough. I needed to fuck.

More fiercely than I had intended, I kicked out from under Nick. He was
still sprawled more or less on all fours; I knelt down behind him and
wrenched his legs open, giving full access to his spit-sloppy hole. My
dick was pretty slicked up from his expert blowjob, so I wasted no time.
I tightened my fist around my cock, lined up behind him, and found his
hole.

And I fucking *rammed* him.

Nick screamed like a banshee. "FUCK MAN!  Slowslowslow! It's been a
while!"

"Sorry!" I hissed, but holy shit I was anything but sorry. My cockhead
was inside, and the fucking *tightness* of was driving me out of my mind.
More so because as my head ripped into him, he clenched down *hard* on
me. It was so fucking tight I think I was seeing stars for a minute, and
it was the Best. Fucking. Feeling. In. The. World.

I reached under him with my right hand, and started jacking him slowly...
his dick was spewing pre-cum, cutting out the friction. I started gentle
body thrusts, rocking with him, and in a few minutes I could feel him
relaxing and starting to rock with me. My dick teasing his hole, slowly
firing his nerve endings.

And then, slowly, Nick shifted from his bent forward position,
straightening himself at the waist. From there, he slowly pushed back
against me, so that his back began rubbing against my hairy chest. We
were... rolling, throbbing against each other, my dick sliding in further
with every thrust. He started jacking himself slowly, almost dreamlike,
as his head rolled back toward me. It was like he was stretching... no,
flexing his muscles, leaning into the sensations filling him... all the
while gurgling out a snarling, low-rolling moan.

And as my cock slowly filled his ass, Nick... filled *me.* Filled all my
senses. Awakening parts of me I didn't know I had. From behind him, I
started nuzzling his exposed neck with my unshaven jaw, taking in his
scent, strong with sweat. Almost in a daze, I moved to mouthing his skin,
licking his neck and tasting the salt. With him jacking himself, my hands
moved from his cock and started rubbed his hairy chest, finding his
nipples and running down his torso. Unlike my girl, Nick was *solid.* She
was smooth, soft and subtle. Nick was hard, and fucking *present* in a
way she wasn't... and could never be. I fucking loved the *feel* of him.
It was like we were... luxuriating in each other. There was only Nick and
me.

And with each motion my dick slid further inside his innards. The
pressure, the heat of him was fucking electric, filling my mind. But
after a few minutes of savoring the powerful sensations, I needed more. I
started pushing harder inside him, replacing our rolling waves with
increasingly powerful thrusts. Soon I was truly fucking him, my hands
instinctively clutching his body, digging in harder and harder.

A steam engine of sensation was building inside me; but as we ground and
fucked together, I realized I still needed more. A *lot* more. From this
position, I wasn't able to get the power I needed. And here's the
thing: Nick was a guy. He didn't need me to hold back, and he wouldn't
get scared off. He could take what I threw down, physically and
emotionally. Hell, as a guy, he'd expect nothing less.

And right then, I needed to fucking *rut*... to fucking *pound* his ass.

I abruptly released him and pushed him down so he was back on his hands
and knees. Then I grabbed his hips and fucking went lights-out on his
hairy ass.

I was fucking *rough*. I didn't care. In the back of my mind, I knew he
could keep up... and fucking needed this as much as I did. I slammed into
him, again and again. Harder. Fucking HARDER. Nick let out full-on battle
cries that slowly dissolved as the wild sensations overtook him: "Oh
FUUUUCK! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCKGH MEUGH. FUUUMEE!  UUUUGHEEEEEEEE!
NGGGGUHHEE!!!" Finally, human speech failed him altogether and was left
making animal sounds. He slammed the bed with his fists again and again,
then dug his hands in so hard it almost shredded the bedspread. He buried
his face in the sheets and bit down hard, like a lion killing its prey.
Sweat poured down my body and I fucking howled.

It was straight up male, animal aggression. A corner of my mind was
surprised with myself as I let into him. I had totally lost control. It
was as if all my frustrations--especially years of built-up sexual
frustrations--blew up into sweat-soaked rage, leading me to fucking
*punish* Nick's ass.

I couldn't have kept it up for more than a few minutes--I was WAY too
far gone--but those were some of the best few minutes in my life. My mind
shattered from the intensity of it all, my whole being was focused on my
dick as I slammed into him again like a sledgehammer. Below me I could
feel Nick's body tense wildly, as he started out a wailing cry that
about ripped his throat apart and fucking *came*. He shot off like a
water cannon, cum splashing everywhere. His ass clamped down *hard* on my
dick... and before I could react, I let loose too, firing shot after shot
of spunk deep inside him... the sensations came at me so hard and so fast
it completely caught me off guard.  It must have been five or six waves
of cum, each one so blasting out so hard it felt like the life was being
sucked out of me. I almost thought I was going to pass out.

I'm not sure how long it took us to come down from that. Instinctively,
I kept thrusting inside him, more like uncontrollable spasms than any
conscious action on my part. Finally as the haze started to clear, I
realized I was laying on top of him, skin-to-skin with our sweat running
together. I was in a stupor; it was like every conscious thought in my
mind had been seared away.

Well... that's not entirely true. One thought certainly *did* remain...

How soon until we could do this again?



* * *

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