Date: Wed, 21 Oct 1998 01:32:13 PDT From: Question Mark Subject: Mark & me (Gay, MM, Beginnings) This is my first submission. Although I have always enjoyed writing, this is the first time I have ever put anything in print. Like a lot of guys, my fantasies are more geared to "here and now" type needs! Constructive criticism and topic suggestions would be gratefully accepted. Please remember that this is fantasy and as such, I offer no apology if there are technical errors. I have neither the time or desire to research how a true "professional" (of any sort) would dress, act or say. The object is obvious. I hope you enjoy my work. -MARK & ME- I meet 23 year old Mark after he received a near crippling spine injury as the result of a dirt bike accident. He had been in the hospital about a month when it was decided he could leave but had to continue therapy at home. I was to be his therapist. Although I could do nothing for his spine injury, my therapeutic massages were intended to keep his muscles from atrophying during what could be amount to a six month to a year recovery with most of that time being confined to laying flat on his back. The first time I met him in his hospital room, he was in the process of shaving his armpits. There were traces of shaving cream on his chest and belly. I was stunned and I guess I was just standing in the doorway starring. He chuckled and waved me on in. He explained that his life's goal was to become a competition body builder and they all had smooth bodies. He went on to tell me that electric clippers didn't get close enough and the depilatory made him break out so he shaved. I asked if he went all the way with it. He chuckled again and slid the sheet aside displaying a magnificent bush with a long, thick and definitely uncircumcised cock protruding out of it. As he toweled the excess shave cream off his body, I couldn't help but feel saddened by such vain excesses. He was already devastatingly handsome. Nurses from other wards were known to wander over and peak in his room to get a look at him. His square jaw, deep green eyes and coal black hair alone could have qualified him to be a model but he also had a magnificent body that was muscled to perfection with a 51" chest and a 30" waist. The body wasn't Schwarzenegger quality so he didn't look disproportionate or grotesque but more like a Greek god. Allowing his body hair to grow naturally would only highlight its beauty. Visualizing his armpits with a full shock of hair was practically enough to make me cum in my pants. You see, not only am I a cock sucker but I have a strong body hair fetish. If I am not sucking some guy's meat, I am grazing in his pits or on his chest while I stroke him off. Then when he cums, I like licking it out of his hair. Mark's attitude was perpetually cheerful and he never for a moment thought his accident as anything but a temporary pain in the ass that cost him a VERY expensive set of leathers that had to be cut off his body out of fear of further damaging his spine. HOWEVER his girlfriend couldn't cope with them not fucking two to three times and day until the doctor said it was okay to resume sex again. Which probably wouldn't have been more than a month or so. Even that proved too severe to her and she decamped before Mark even left the hospital which I thought was pretty shitty way to treat a guy who should have his body worshipped, not rejected. One thing was noticeable though, after she was gone, he stopped shaving his body. As time progressed, my attraction to the young stud became deeper and deeper. I would arrive every day in the middle of the afternoon and set my table up. He was usually shirtless and wearing gym trunks. The first couple of times, we used the predictable towel modestly draped over his loins. I liked that because getting on and off the table, he had to uncover himself and I would get a glimpse of that big prick. But unfortunately the hardons I got were too evident. As a defense, I suggested gym trunks for him and I started wearing underwear with my cock firmly tucked straight down. This proved to be a not altogether successful method of keeping me from getting hard but it was less obvious. The visits became a slow torture to me. I checked my watch a thousand times during the day wishing the time would pass more quickly. It seemed like an eternity. Then finally, I would be standing over him. As I worked his muscles over, I had to remind myself to keep it professional. Often, I realized (unfortunately too late) that instead of massaging, I was caressing and Mark would be gazing at me with a quizzical look on his face but he would always quickly glance away, embarrassed. I would swear to myself to learn to control my feelings but couldn't wait until I could get home so I could jerk off while remember how his hard body with the continually growing mat of hair had felt under my hands. I would always cum like a fire hose in heat, sometimes throwing my legs over my head so I could cum on my face fantasizing that it was his cum spewing on me. Then, the next time I would go there I would tell myself to maintain control but within a few minutes of my working him over, I'd be hard and dripping. Even though Mark always wore trunks when I was working on him, to give a thorough massage, there is no way you are not going to encounter cock, balls and ass. Mark good-naturedly brushed it aside if I nudged him too close and he was good to make sure he was always clean. Once as I was massaging the inside of his thigh and my hand was constantly rubbing his big hairy balls, he said, "Since you are down there..." and we both laughed but I knew he was getting edgy. During the casual conversation we often had, he admitted once a jerk off could be perfectly acceptable as a sexual outlet but several months of nothing but his own hand had to have gotten tiring. I was ready any time he was. Hell, I would have lifted my legs for him and that wasn't something I had ever done for anyone being basically an oral person. But I knew fucking was out of the question even if he or I were interested. In the months that followed, a deep friendship sprung up. I didn't know what thoughts were in his mind but he seemed to truly like me. My feelings were a confusing mix of physical attraction and genuine fondness. He started talking incessantly while I worked on him. I found out the man had a brain and wasn't just the most beautiful stud who walked the earth. At first there was a mutual exchange but he quickly got the hint that my personal life wasn't going to be the topic of our discussions. We kept it neutral with talks on unessential bullshit but as he became more comfortable with me, he began to open up about his personal life. I think I liked it most when he used to tell me about some of the sex antics he had engaged in. That always made his cock fill out although it never got hard. I listened intently hoping for some clue that would indicate his availability. One morning I found out I wasn't going to be able to make our usual 3:00 PM appointment so I stopped by his place around noon. I knew his whole daily routine was napping, reading, watching TV or sun bathing. It was evident he wasn't watching TV or reading because from the porch I could see in his living room. I could hear music but there was nothing uncommon about that; sometimes he would watch TV with the volume off and have music on. A quick check of the back yard turned up nothing. I knocked lightly on the door. No response. I let myself in with the key he had given me. Standing in the doorway, I called out softly, not wanting to wake him if he should be sleeping. I decided to leave a note and closed the door quietly behind me. Walking as quietly as possible, I headed to the kitchen when I heard a woman's voice cry out 'Fuck me you big stud!' and then the music picked up it's pace and there were male and female grunts and groans in time to the music. A porno! Mark was watching a porno!! I tip towed to the short hall and peered in his bedroom. The young stud was lying naked on his bed stroking his cock. I could tell by how shinny it was, he had either lubricated himself or he was dripping hard. His cock seemed massive. Even in his large fist failed to dwarf it. I could clearly see the foreskin slide up and form a cowl over his knob. Without moving more into the doorway and blowing my cover, I couldn't see much more than from his legs up to his chest. That was enough for me. I could tell by his strokes being irregular and the way his body shuddered from time to time that he was very close. He slowed his pace but it was still ragged and jerky. I wished I were invisible so I could see the look on his face. He suddenly stopped all movement but just lay there squeezing his cock in rhythmic movements and rubbing his thumb over the shinny head. Then there was a loud sound that had elements of a gurgle, a groan and a grunt all at once. His body shuddered hard and his legs rose slightly off the bed and slammed down. The jets of cum splashed out on his chest as he lay there squeezing his cock. Then I saw his body go limp. I knew I had to get out of there. I slipped back down the hall and out the door. It wasn't until I got out on the street that I could see my cock was rock hard and even with my white pants and underwear, the wet spot was obvious. I drove down the street and called him explaining my delay. I offered to pick up a pizza and a couple of six packs to make up for the delay. He agreed. I arrived later that afternoon after having gone home for quick jerk off. We watched TV as we ate and drank. I sat on the floor on one side of the table and he on the couch on the other wearing nothing but a pair of very old Gold's Gym trunks. As always, his cock was clearly outlined through the tin fabric and the head of his cock hung out the leg opening. I was hard in seconds. I somehow managed to get through the message without touching anything that wasn't necessary. Probably due to a guilt trip that had me feeling like a major douche bag. Before hitting the road, I asked to use his toilet so I could unload a couple of bottles of warm beer so I wouldn't be too uncomfortable on the way home. There, in the sink was the wash rag he had obviously used to clean up with after his JO session. It was dry and wadded up. I gently unfolded it. Globs of cum had almost completely soaked in. There were three body hairs stuck in the cum. I folded the body hairs up in a tissue. (I still have them.) The cum was too dry to lick out of the rag but I held it to my nose and sniffed deeply then to my horror, I came! So, with my tee shirt out of my pants and cum running down my legs, I left. I think I jerked off about six times before dawn broke. Even after all those months of physical attraction, I knew I should still feel guilty about having spied on him and invading such a personal moment. Still I couldn't get the thought of what I had seen out of my mind. I would wake from dreams about him and once had the first wet dream of my life during one. I managed to get through the next few appointments. As he was now able to get out and do things for himself as well as light exercise. We cut back and I was seeing him every other day. That helped but I had to admit my attraction was turning into more than the physical. I was becoming obsessed. I decided I had to make a clean break of this whole mess. I asked the hospital to find another therapist. I was told it would take time but they would do what they could. Often, I would run errands for him. His girlfriend had owned the car. Mark had used his dirt bike to go to work but it was wrecked and he hadn't had it fixed. I think he was also a bit intimidated by it but he would never admit it. So I would help him shop and took him to his doctor's appointments. It was at one of those appointments he got a severe let down. His doctors told him he was not healing correctly and that from now on, his two chief interests in life, weight lifting and dirt biking, were history. He could still lift weights casually to keep his shape but power lifting was out unless he wanted to run the risk of becoming a paraplegic, or worse. He was like a man in shock. He didn't say anything as I drove him home. When we got to his house, he said he wanted to be alone and not to come back again; he didn't want to continue the therapy. Even though I had taken the steps to remove him from my life, this reality hit me like a fist to the jaw. There was no way I could let that happen. He had become too important to me. On what would have been my next scheduled visit, I went anyway. He didn't answer my knock so I let myself in. He was passed out, naked, on his bed with his arms up over his head. The tailspin he was in must have been massive. He had stopped showering, shaving and by the looks of him and the house, had gone on an alcohol binge. The pure male scent of the small room was over whelming. It was a warm day anyway and with his not having showered for a couple of days, he had a distinctly musky smell. Far from rank, the scent was more of an aphrodisiac and almost intoxicating. I was hard instantly. I leaned over and shook him hard but he didn't stir. I leaned down with my ear pressed to his left pec, his nipple almost touching my lip and listened for a heartbeat. It was strong and regular. I tried to deny the feel of his hard muscle, the scent of his body and the coarse hair that was caressing my cheek as I rolled my face from side to side until my lips were pressed into his nipple and my nose in center of his chest, inhaling that wonderful masculine aroma. I told myself that he was a patient in need of help but I argued back that technically, he had fired me so he wasn't a patient AND he was also a very desirable man and I had a very real need. I gave up arguing with myself and started licking his pec. I followed the lower ridge of his pec licking steadily, his scent urging me on. I started running ran my hand down the deep cleft between his abdominal muscles which now had beautiful veneer of hair which was now thick in the crevice but feathered out to smooth skin. I reached his bush and ran my fingers through it while I sucked on his nipple. I continued licking him. My tongue was reaching his armpit at the same time as my hand circled around his thick cock. His scent was heavy in my lungs and his limp cock was heavy in my hand. I buried my face in his pit and squeezed his limp cock pulling gently feeling the foreskin slide up over the fat head. I found his pit hair to be much more silky than the coarse growth on the rest of his body. I inhaled deeply moving my face back a forth feeling the hair tickle my face. I took a mouth full and chewed on it before closing my lips down tight on it and drew my head back slowly letting the hair slide out of my mouth. Against all caution, I stood up and took my clothes off. I stood there starring down on him. My cock was rigid to the point of being uncomfortable. I wrapped my fist around it and stroked it while I fondled him. I had to kneel on the bed to get to his other side and had to let go of myself so I could support my weight with my arm. I returned to my oral exploration of his torso. I licked across the top of his shoulder to his neck and then all over his throat. His beard stubble felt like an electric current was flowing through my tongue. The blood was pounding in my eardrums, my mouth following the scent to his other pit. I made love to it with my mouth until it was wet and the hair matted. My tongue followed the line of his pec and I buried my face in the deep cleft between both pecs. I started moving further down and suddenly lost my balance. It seemed he was going one way and I another. I steadied myself only minimally losing contact with his skin. I was stroking his cock as I licked sucked and kissed my way to his bush but never gave it much more than a brush with my tongue. I spread his legs and knelt between them. I knew what I wanted. I had to have his cock. It never registered that he was hard as steel and about 7" long. But a passed out man should be limp. I was too far gone to fully grasp this logic. He had the most beautiful cock I had ever seen. The foreskin was now just a wrinkle of skin just under the head. I traced a blue vein standing out on the side with the tip of my tongue. I licked him from the halo of hair at the base of his pale white shaft right up the cum tube which was as thick as my little finger to the dusky pink head. I closed my mouth down over his knob and licked drawing it out of me slowly, the pungent flavor making my mouth water. I opened my mouth wider and started a slow plunge down to the base. About 2/3rds of the way down, I felt resistance from my throat as he bottomed out. The musky scent of his cock drove me down further until I felt my throat opened and he was in all the way to the hilt with his bush pressed into my face. I wasn't conscious of the effort but I felt my face pushing harder into his crotch forcing him further down my throat. As I started the upward journey, I wrapped my thumb and fore finger around the base of his shaft, they couldn't reach all the way around it but I needed to tighten up his loose skin to maximize the contact with his shaft. A combination of his scent, the taste and texture of his meat and my adrenaline I was certain was going to make me pass out. My cock was throbbing and there was a steady flow of my juices onto his sheet. I couldn't touch myself; the slightest breeze on it would have sent me over the top. Within a short time, I was sucking wildly, totally out of control. His cock being slick from my spit, it was easy to drive my mouth up and down his shaft, slamming my face into his crotch and then sliding up to swirling my tongue over his knob and through his slit. My mouth became a sucking machine, faster and faster. Grunts and groans sounded like they weren't coming from me were echoing loudly around the room. Time stood still. I have no idea how long I was actually on him. It could have been five minutes or five hours; the only thing that existed in the whole universe was his cock and my mouth. Without any warning, I heard that complicated mix of sounds that I remembered and I knew it wasn't coming from me. I started, pulling my mouth off of him and starring right into the contorted but very awake face of Mark, his head had snapped forward and his whole body spasmed. An instant later, something hot and wet grazed my chin and a solid ribbon of cum lay from his navel all the way to his neck. My hand had his cock pulled back so the angle was perfect. Within my own sack, I felt that familiar tingle that every man knows; the cum simmering in my balls had come to a full boil. Because of the way I was kneeling, I blew my load on Mark's beautiful cock and balls as his body continued jerking and twisting and two more streamers of cum flew out of him splattering on his upper pecs. The fourth and fifth jets hit his lower pecs and the last few splattered on his belly. His torso from his neck to his crotch was frosted in pearly white making an erotic contrast between the deeply tanned body and black body hair. His head fell back on his pillow one arm behind his head, eyes closed, gasping for breath. I didn't know what to do; should I try to run or just stand there and let him break me in two? At least I would die just after the best suck I had ever given. He spared me from having to make the decision. "Are you going to lick it all up or is this your way of forcing me to take a shower!?!" "How long were you awake?" "Don't you know?! Maybe fifteen minutes. I came too while you were sucking my chest. I almost knocked you over. Then I realized what you were doing and started getting into it. Man! I was fucking your mouth!! Couldn't you feel me forcing my cock down your throat?! Couldn't you hear me groaning? I have never been sucked like that in my life!!" He seemed incredulous that I was so into what I was doing that I couldn't tell his movements and moans weren't mine. "Then you don't know about the armpit thing?" "Well, I know they're a little smelly but what about 'em?" "Here, let me show you, then I'll clean you up." And we lived happily every after. Mark never realized that tug he felt in his crotch when he was in the locker room at the gym had meaning. His denial went far enough to where he thought the long lingering looks he gave the muscular studs at the gym were just because he and the guys shared a mutual interest. The devastating lose he felt was from subconsciously knowing that he wouldn't experience that sexual high he got being around sweaty bodies. His girl friend had always thought his forceful fucking after a long work out was due to a heightened testosterone level but the reality was, it was from desperately needing to pop after being sexually on edge for so long. AND, his dirt bike and leathers have brought a new meaning to the phrase "Sport Sex"! But that is another story all together!