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Over the next few weeks, we get back to normal. On the surface at least. Things are still kind of strained between us, but we put on a good show for each other of pretending they’re not. We don’t mention Craig or what I’d said when we were watching TV.
It’s a Saturday night again. Jeff’s gone to a party, but I don’t really have the will to go out. Ever since the whole Craig thing, whenever I’m about to take some guy home I seem to lose interest. I haven’t slept with anyone in weeks. If Jeff is sleeping with anyone, he hasn’t been bringing her back to our place. “Or him”- the thought crosses my mind briefly, but it makes me feel ill, so I push it back out again. I turn the heat up in our apartment so I can get stoned and strip down to my briefs. I want to lay around naked and pretend I’m in the tropics. I roll a few spliffs so I won’t have to deal with the mechanics once I’m fucked up. I put on a new album I’ve just bought, and enjoy getting stoned and letting the music wash over me.
Around midnight I hear a knock on my door, and then Jeff peaks his head in.
“Can I come in?” he asks. I pat the bed and tell him to come join me. I grab my jeans from the floor and slip them on.
“It’s a fucking sauna in here,” he says. “How high did you turn the heat on?”
“I was in the mood for a tropical vacation,” I say. The words fill up my mouth like pudding and seem to slip out slowly without my knowledge. Fuck, I am so stoned. I spark up the last joint and hand it to him, letting him smoke most of it.
I can’t help myself from staring at the elegance of his long, slender fingers, the smooth confidence of his inhale, and the curling smoke slipping back out through his pink puffy lips.
It’s weird to have him in my room. We mostly hang out in the kitchen and the living room. The heat really is up pretty high, and he’s starting to sweat a little bit. He starts to unbutton his shirt, giggling as he fumbles. He isn’t wearing anything underneath, and I’m completely hypnotized by his smooth, olive skin. I can feel myself starting to bone up, but suddenly I don’t give a shit if he can tell. I lay back on my bed with my arms over my head.
Jeff looks down at me, and then lays down beside me. He curls up next to me like we do when we’re watching TV sometimes, except now we’re lying down, shirtless, in my bed. We lay there together for what seems like hours, the sides of our bodies barely touching, although every brush feels like electricity to me. We linger together in companionable silence, occasionally speaking- not saying anything important, just catching up on the week, on the night, on our friends.
“I wish you’d come with me tonight,” Jeff says, but I can’t respond because as he says it he snuggles up close to me and puts his head on my chest. My breath gets caught in my chest. I can feel his warm, naked flesh against mine, can feel his heartbeat against my side. I’m afraid to run my fingers though his hair, afraid to touch him. If I touch him just a little bit I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.
I’ve always thought body odor was kind of gross. I know some guys get off on it, but I prefer the smell of a freshly showered man. But for some reason the combined smell of our sweaty bodies is intoxicating. It’s like a drug, and my dick is hard now, caught uncomfortably in my briefs. I can only see the top of his head, so I don’t know whether or not his eyes are open, whether or not he can see. His head is rising and falling with my breath.
I fucking hate this. I hate the intensity of the attraction I feel and my completely inability to control it. I hate how helpless it makes me feel. I can smell his shampoo and his sweat and cigarette smoke, and the heat of his body is driving me crazy. Our sweaty skin is sticking to each other, and I feel like my entire body is alive and on fire. Like I’d just kicked the heat up another 10 degrees.
He raises his hand to my chest and I stop breathing. It’s just laying there, on top of my right pec, right above my nipple. I know he can feel the way my heart is beating a million miles a minute. It’s like time stops, and I have no fucking clue how long we’re laying like this, unmoving. I haven’t had sex in weeks, and I’m so fucking oversexed I feel like it’s consuming me, like all that’s left of what used to be me is a giant engorged cock that’s taken over the rest of me.
Jeff starts playing with my chest hair. He doesn’t have any, and he’s always been curious about mine. Sometimes when I have my shirt off he playfully rubs it. But this isn’t like that. He’s stroking my chest, but he might as well be stroking my cock. When he brushes my nipple, I have to grab his wrist to make him stop.
“Jeff, what are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “Well you better figure it out,” I snap. The teasing I can deal with, but now he’s just fucking with me.
Jeff sits up, and I suddenly feel incredibly naked, even though I’m still wearing my jeans. I sit up too, and pull my knees to my chest.
“Why won’t you talk about what happened with Craig,” he asks.
“It didn’t happen to nişantaşı escort me, it happened to you. You’re the one who isn’t talking about it.”
“Whenever I try to you get so fucking tense.”
“Look, I overreacted, ok. I’m sorry. I’m over it now.”
“No you’re not.”
“Don’t tell me how I feel,”
“If you don’t lie to me, I won’t have to.”
I lean back against the headboard and stretch my legs out.
“I was jealous, and you know it. Do you really need me to say it out loud? Do you really need me to stroke your ego that bad?” I feel humiliated, and terrified of how he’ll react.
“Alex,” he says, and brushes my hair behind my ear. I pull away from his hand.
“So what, are you like, into guys now?” I ask.
I had mostly meant it as a joke, but Jeff seems to take it as a serious question. He looks at me and pauses, clearly trying to figure out how he wants to answer.
“I don’t know. I’ve always been curious about it, I guess, but I’d never wanted it bad enough to actually go through with it. If I hadn’t been so wasted, I probably would never have done it.”
“What are you saying?” I ask. God, I feel like a fucking awkward, insecure 15 year old. I haven’t felt like this since I was in high school.
“Now that I have… I don’t know. I liked it, Alex. More than I thought I would. I don’t know. I guess it wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be. I just wish it hadn’t been with Craig.” My chest hurts from wanting him so much, and from knowing that I’ll lose him if we go through with this.
“I guess I always thought that if you wanted to experiment with a guy, you’d do it with me,” I say, in spite of myself.
“Yeah, I used to think so too. But I guess once we got to be so close it got kind of complicated. And the thought of being one of your many conquests wasn’t particularly appealing.”
“Jeff, you know I’d never…”
“I know, Alex.” He moves closer to me and leans against me. The heat of his skin touching mine makes it hard for me to think.
“You haven’t fucked anyone in a while, have you?” he asks.
I shake my head no.
“It’s been like, over a month, hasn’t it? That must be a new record for you.”
“Six weeks. I’m going out of my head,” I say.
“I want you to fuck me, Alex,” he says into my neck. I can feel his warm breath on my skin. I think I’ve misheard him, but the way he’s holding his breath, waiting to see how I respond….
“It won’t fix anything,” I say, my heart pounding so hard my chest might break open. If I don’t have a heart attack first.
Jeff straddles my lap, and his ass rests on my cock. I know he can feel it.
“I don’t think you understand,” he says, looking into my eyes. “I don’t want you to fuck me because I think it’s a good idea. I want you to fuck me because I think about it when I beat off. I. Want. You. To. Fuck. Me.”
Oh. Fuck. I almost come when he says that, and again when he punctuates it by grinding his ass against my hard dick.
“Oh God…” I groan. I’m beyond cohesive thought.
“Alex,” he says leaning into me, “Craig might have been the first guy I fucked, but I want you to be the first guy to fuck me.”
He leans in closer and whispers into my ear, “Think about what it would feel like to be the first guy to slide his cock inside me.”
The thought of it makes me tremble. He’s grinding against me and talking in this low, breathy voice I’ve never heard him use before. I can’t believe Jeff is fucking seducing me.
He can tell how much the thought of it is turning my mind to mush. He licks my neck right below my ear. “I’ve never had a dick in my ass before,” he says, quietly.
I raise my eyebrows, and he blushes. He’s told me all about how much he loved it when his ex-girlfriend used to rim him and fuck him with her dildo.
“Not a real one, at least,” he says, and I laugh. It breaks the tension a little.
“I don’t think I could last 30 seconds, Jeff,” I say, and it’s true.
Like a flash, Jeff’s hands are on the button of my jeans, and next thing I know my pants and briefs are down at my knees, and Jeff’s mouth is on my cock. Jeff’s fucking lips are around my dick. This isn’t happening. I’ve dreamt about this so many times, and now that it’s actually happening, I’m too delirious to pay attention. I don’t know where he learned to suck cock, but he’s actually good at it, and he goes down on me, sucking like a vacuum, only a few times before my orgasm hits like a fucking freight train, and I don’t have time to warn him.
He chokes on my cum, and it spills out the side of his mouth. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything hotter in my life. He stays down there until I’m done, trying his best to swallow as much as he can. When my dick gets too sensitive, I pull him up and lick my cum off his face, and then we’re kissing, his tongue in my mouth, mine in his, sharing the taste of me. I’m kissing Jeff, devouring him, as if he were going off to war. The reality of him is heat and warmth and real and I’m practically shaking from wanting him so much.
My kağıthane escort desire for him terrifies me. It’s taking every ounce of control I have not to rip his pants off, hold him down, and pile-drive into his ass. My need to dominate him, to rut him forcefully, mercilessly, threatens to consume me. Calm down, I repeat over and over in my head, take it slow, don’t hurt him, make it good for him, make him cum harder than he’s ever come before, make his eyes roll around in his head from the pleasure.
I think part of what held me back from really going for him until now was a fear that there was no way it would be as good as in my fantasies, that there was no way he could possibly live up to my idea of him, and that there would be no way I’d be anything but disappointed. But somehow the reality of him is actually better than anything I ever could have imagined.
I’ve kissed more guys than I can count, but it’s never been like this before. It’s hot and needy and hard and passionate, but there’s something else there, too. It’s how well I know him, and how much he knows me. He knows me better than anyone else and he wants me, he wants this.
I’m kissing him, and he’s kissing me back. I’m touching him, trying to touch and memorize every inch of his body- not just the sex parts, his calves and forearms and neck and every part of him. This might be my only chance with him, and I won’t waste a second of it. He pulls my pants the rest of the way off, and then slips his own down his hips. Jesus. He really is big, and hard as steel.
I take him in my hand and stroke him while I kiss him.
“Are you sure you want me to fuck you?” I ask, trembling, wanting to bury my face in the heady smells coming from his crotch. He nods.
I push him down on his back, and get down between his thighs, but instead of going for his cock, I go straight for his balls. I torture them with my lips and teeth and tongue and take them in my mouth. When Jeff tries to reach down and relieve his aching cock, I push his hand away, and tell him firmly,
“Don’t touch yourself.” He whimpers. Good. I want to work him up until he can’t stand it, until he’s seeing stars, until he think he’ll go crazy if he doesn’t touch himself, and I still won’t let him.
I move down to his perineum and push my tongue hard against him, and then I move down to his ass. He’s writhing and moaning on my tongue and the sound and smell and feel of him is waking my cock up again fast. I’m obsessed with the idea of being inside of him, and I slide a saliva-slicked finger into his ass, satisfied with the sharp intake of breath and deep groan he makes. He’s tight, but not drum tight.
He knows how to loosen up for me, and soon I’ve got two fingers inside him and he’s squirming and panting as I find his prostate and fuck his ass with my fingers. I’m wondering if I should go for a third, but Jeff pulls me up to his face. He’s a little red and he’s breathing hard and then his tongue’s down my throat and his hands and arms and legs are wrapped around me, pulling me tight against him.
Jeff’s ex-girlfriend was into a little bit of power play, and Jeff was definitely the submissive in their relationship. He used to tell me about what they’d do together, and occasionally I’d allow myself to beat off imagining myself in her position. As we’re making out and grinding against each other, I’m starting to remember all of the little hints he’s dropped about his preferences over the past few years. I know his nipples aren’t particularly sensitive, except for when he’s really turned on. That he likes being tied up. I remember the involuntary blush that spread down from his ears across his cheeks the first time he told me how much he got off when Kate spanked him.
He gets off on feeling like he’s being taken control of. Kate used to make him feel that way with her words and her attitude, but I don’t know if he’s ever been with someone big enough to make him feel physically taken control of. I can sense somehow, by the way he’s reacting to my arms wrapping around him, the way I’m holding him down on the bed, the way one of my hands practically covers one of his tight little ass cheeks, that it’s flipping all of his switches.
I wonder if maybe he’s fantasized about this before, or if maybe he’s never even let himself think about it, but it feels so right to him now that he’s realizing just how much he’s always craved it.
So I step it up a notch, and really let him feel the size and weight of my body, the strength of my hands and power of my muscles. And he’s starting to breathe even harder and frantically grinding himself against my thigh, and that’s setting off all my buttons, but I’m running the show here, so I pull away from him, and look at him lying on my bed, dazed and confused with swollen lips and a rock hard cock.
I stand up and stroke my cock slowly, looking at him, barely believing that this is real, that it’s really happening. He’s looking up at me, his gaze flicking between my cock and my face, his eyes big. I can tell he didn’t expect it to be quite like this, didn’t expect to osmanbey escort be so out of control so quickly. My first impulse is to comfort him. He looks so unnerved- any other time if I saw him looking like that I’d be doing everything in my power to calm him down. But sex is different. This is my game now.
I reach into my night stand for a condom, and his eyes get wider as he watches me roll it on. He’s realizing that the fantasy of getting fucked and the reality are two very different things. I remember the feeling. I’m caught between two impulses- there’s part of me that wants to wrap him into my arms and be gentle and sweet and cover him in kisses while I’m sliding into him, to really make love to him, to show him how much I love him with every touch.
But the other part of me, the bigger part, is getting off on the dominance of it, and knows how much he’s getting off on the submissiveness of the fear and the uncertainty and the newness of it. And also knows that it’s safer this way- as much as part of me wants to be tender and raw with him, I’m terrified of what that would mean, not sure I could ever recover from whatever it might lead to.
“Get on your back,” I say, my voice rough and curt.
I’m gratified by how quickly he follows orders and the flash of lust in his eyes at the command.
I squirt some lube into my right hand and coat my dick with it and then move over towards him. I put my left hand on his chest and push him gently against the bed, letting him feel my strength, feel me in control, knowing that it makes him feel safe just as it makes him feel powerless. With my right hand, I slick up his hole with what’s left of the lube, and ease my two fingers back inside of him. He’s tight and hot and he squeezes his muscles around my fingers.
“Are you ready?” I ask him.
He nods silently.
I line myself up with him, and slide in. I’m pretty sure he’s taken dildos as big as my dick, so I’m not worried about hurting him. He can take it. I only have to stop once- pause briefly while he adjusts to me, and then I’m all the way inside him, and I wonder if my eyes are as big as his are right now.
“Oh, God,” He says, his voice trembling, just as I’m thinking the same thing. I pull out slowly, losing myself in the feeling of his tight hole sliding along my cock. I push in again, and look down in wonder at the way his eyes roll back in his head. I’m entranced watching how he reacts depending on the angle and speed at which I thrust into him. He’s so beautiful, like an exotic plaything. I can’t believe it’s really him writhing and sighing and panting underneath me. I can hear myself panting and moaning too, and then slowly I lose myself in him, stop being able to think or plan or understand what’s happening.
It’s just our bodies our cocks his ass his smell his sounds his skin. I’m so overwhelmed with what this feels like, I almost tell him I love him, but I stifle the words into a moan.
It’s never been like this before. I’ve never fucked someone I was in love with before. I’ve never wanted to completely merge with someone else. I’ve never wanted to please someone so completely- not just because I love good sex, or because I want to prove my sexual potency, or because of the way it feels to make another guy delirious with pleasure, but because I’m so devoted to him, because his pleasure is my pleasure. Because for a second I almost believe that I would be ok if I could never cum again, if I could just give him the greatest orgasm of his life, if I could give him endless pleasure.
By now I’m thrusting fast and hard into him, and he’s bucking and gyrating his hips against me, trying to get me deeper inside him, gripping my back, holding onto me as if he were drowning. I grab onto his hips and start slamming into him like a jackhammer, because the harder and faster I go the more he pants and moans and I’ll do whatever I can to make those sounds come out of him.
I hold his waist steady so he can’t move his hips and slam into him over and over, harder and harder. And then he starts moaning into my ear, “Oh fuck, I need to come, oh God, let me cum, I need to cum.” He reaches his hand between our bodies and starts stroking himself off.
I move my hands up to his stomach, his face, his chest, pinching and twisting his nipples. I’m on the brink of coming, and I try to hold myself back- I want to feel him cumming, his ass spasming around my hard cock- but I’m teetering on the edge and I can’t hold back, and I grab onto him and hold him close, our sweaty torsos sticking to each other as the cum shoots out of me.
It takes me a minute to recover. I slowly extract my sensitive cock from the tight grip of his ass and tie up the condom. He’s still hard as a rock, and looking at me needily. I scoot down the bed and run my tongue up from the base to the head of his cock, savoring my first taste of him. He tastes pungent and sweet and salty and fleshy. I let myself get lost in his cock, take it all the way down my throat, silently giving a prayer of thanks for the years of cocksucking that have prepared me to deep throat every last inch of him. I have no idea how long I’m down there, licking and sucking him, tasting him, worshiping his beautiful cock. I slide two fingers into his hole and fuck his prostate, trying to fuck the cum right out of him.
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