Date: Tue, 12 May 2009 07:00:30 -0700
From: Oregon Bear <oregonbear9@gmail.com>
Subject: In The Moonlight

This story contains graphic descriptions of consensual adult male to male
gay sex.  If this topic offends you, or it is illegal for you to read this,
please leave this site.

				In the Moonlight

	My hand moved slowly over his belly, and up across his chest.  His
skin was warm, a bit damp in the night, and I could smell his spicy sweat
rising from his furry pits, and the heat of his chest.  His muscular pecs
rose and fell slowly, the slow beat of sleep the only sound in the room.

	I stopped, waited, watching the moon rise, watching the darkness of
the room turn slowly brighter, moving his hard, naked body from the shadows
to the new light.  And, again, as if for the first time, I watch him, my
eyes feasting on the curves and the shadows, and the crevices of his hard,
lean nakedness.

	He lies across the bed, open to me.  His arms and legs open,
exposing him, all of him, to my again curious eyes.  For an instant, I gaze
at his thick, now soft cock, skin against thick hair and fat balls, now
limp and sagging in their hairy sack.  The long silky skin of his cock now
slid down, over his cockhead now, relaxed.  This precious part of him, the
part closest to me when he took me in the ass, now was hiding all but the
last small pearl of his cum that had finally slid out of his cockhead, and
hung like a dewdrop, until it finally fell, lost in the curls of the thick,
sweaty hair of his crotch.  My nostrils were filled with his smell, his
sweat, and the last whiffs of his almost dry cum.

	The moon now filled the room with its pale silver light, giving his
chest and the coarse curls across his chest a bright and shiny look,
against the thin dark shadows of his fur against the tanned dark skin.  His
nipples were thick, tempting, the only bare tips of skin in the forested
landscape of his muscles, curving and sculpted in the light, turning into
what seemed like marble.  Solid and warm against my tongue, as I imagined
me tasting him, running my tongue across the salty dampness of his fur, and
finding a tender, stiffening nipple to suck.

	His big-muscled arm was flung over his face, throwing open his
deep, crevassed pit, filled with thick curls and strands of hair, damp with
his smell, still mixed with his lust and the sweat that poured from him
when he had cum in my ass, riding me hard, thrusting and moaning until he
shot deep inside of me, his heat and his lust and his climax drenching me
with hot sweat and a thick spurting rope, then another, of his rich seed.

	My finger traced a path across the deep black stubble across his
cheeks, rough and sharp against my skin, reminding my balls and my cock
what it felt like just an hour ago, as he licked and sucked me, tasting my
ball sack inside his lips, against his tongue, his stubbled cheeks chafing
my thighs, and sticking against the wet hair around my cock.

	And, tomorrow morning, when we washed each other in the shower,
there would be that special time, when I would lather his face, and then
take his razor, slowly pulling the blade through his whiskers, the soap and
the little bits of stubble rinsed away in the steam and the soft hot water.
I'd go slow, being neat around his moustache and up against his goatee, and
the tender skin along his neck, until he felt smooth, almost slippery in my
hands.

	It was my favorite part of our shower, this time of soap and short
strokes with his razor, and the smoothness of the freshly shaved skin.
And, then, he'd always gently take the razor out of my hand, and kiss me,
deeply.  And, then, so slow, and so tender, he'd kiss his way down my neck,
and across my chest, sucking and tasting my always tender and hard nipples,
and then down my belly.  And, slower now than ever, he would move down
further and take me in his mouth, and slowly suck and taste me, until I
would moan and cry and whimper.  And, as the water kept coming down, he
would take me deep and hard, and cup my balls, holding them close to his
lips and his newly shaven cheeks.  And, this would go on and on until I
could hold nothing back, until I thrashed and spurted and came in his
mouth, again and again, crying his name, again and again.

	Yes, I remember.  My recently exhausted cock, fully spent from his
suckings and his insistent hunger for my own seed, now still oozing the
last bit of my seed from my balls, begins to rise again, filling with my
once-again hot blood.  I am hungry again, wanting him again, needing him.

	And in a minute, I would reach over and begin with him again, to
run my finger across his cock, to feel his balls in my hand, to finally
grasp his cock, and feel him, again, begin to fill and to rise with lust,
again.  But, not yet.  Now, just for a minute, I wanted to feel the quiet
in the room, to feel my own lust rising, to feel its heat, its hunger.
And, to watch him sleep, dreaming that it was our time, once again, and
then, to wake, feeling me holding him, feeling him begin to come to life
again, in my hand, and then, in my mouth, and, again, all so soon, in my
ass.

	Yes, in a minute.  But now, I can wait.  There is so much of him to
see as the moon keeps rising.

Copyright 2009.  Oregon Bear