After the breakup with - and subsequent harassment, stalking and identity theft (which was still not resolved, not by a long shot!) at the hands of - my ex, I wasn't feeling very Christmas-y. This time of year was always bad, after being disowned by my family for being born gay instead of straight. The bitch of it was that they weren't even religious; they were just narrow-minded, homophobic assholes, apparently, if they could kick a sixteen year old son out of their house for any reason . . . and two weeks before Christmas, too!
True, my parents had not cut me off financially . . . but only because they couldn't. My grandparents had seen to my siblings' and my financial security - borderline though it would be if we depended only on what they left us in trust - and college educations.
I was invited plenty, even by some other gay men who had similar family situations or had lost their family through some tragedy. It was seven years since, and I still couldn't bear the holiday "festivities" at all. In fact, seeing a Christmas tree through a window in some stranger's house still made my stomach lurch because of the huge lump I'd get, remembering my family's tree - my EX-family! - through the window as I got in the cab they'd ordered me, outside our house that December-dark late afternoon, after the driver had loaded the possessions I'd carried out hastily in the sixty minutes my father had given me to get out.
So I channeled my fear and fury on holidays, and I gave to people who genuinely needed and who deserved as nice a holiday as we could give them. I could focus on them and their needs and ignore my own emptiness - if I was lucky; if not it was darkness and yearning - inside.
I'd found the shelter by accident - maybe Divine intervention - when I'd settled on the other side of the continent, alone and emancipated, and completely unaware of how to manage financially or domestically at a micro level. I'd got myself a used car, I'd got myself an apartment and I'd got myself enrolled to finish high school after missing three months while I wandered. The bank's trust officer had helped me with all of the above; but although he was the only person on earth who cared much about me, he couldn't help me figure out even how to properly plan to keep food in the refrigerator or cupboard.
When I was at a local grocery - one of those small, urban stores in the rundown area where I'd taken a cheap apartment - picking up toilet paper one night, looking especially scruffy in clothes I'd worn again and again, long after they needed laundering, the checker thought I was homeless. She apparently thought the TP was for my cart or backpack or cardboard lean-to under the 405 or something! She was very nice - somewhere between my mother's age and what I figured my grandmother was when she died - standing there on feet that must kill her at her age at the end of a shift, and she was taking an interest in me. She told me there was a shelter several blocks away if I needed it. And she told me if I needed help to call the store and ask for Audrey Kane, and they'd be able to connect me with her, and she'd help me any way she could.
I was too full of hate and resentment then to do more than my reflexive manners - hard taught, or should I say beat into me and my sibs by our parents - delivered. A curt thank you, and I left . . . with my objective to get some toilet paper because I'd let myself run out and was using paper towels - YUCK! - satisfied.
About two weeks later it was Easter weekend. Of course I felt like shit. Getting through Christmas on blind rage to cover my fear, my uncertainty about my future and my doubts about my self-worth was easier than getting through another supposed-to-be-spent-with-family-who-loved-you holiday three and a half months later when it was mostly self-doubts, low sense of self-worth because my parents thought I was an abomination and just plain hurt, inside and out. I thought I was going to the store, and it was during a freak spring black ice storm so I was driving the few blocks, but I took a wrong turn, got farther away due to the one-way streets and no easy way to circle back to the route, and I found myself in front of the shelter Audrey Kane had told me about.
As I beat my cracked junker's steering wheel for being several blocks away from where I'd intended, I suddenly had a sense that maybe I was there for a reason. I wasn't spiritual, and I wasn't not spiritual. I had no philosophy other than questioning my entire being, hating my parents, older brother and older sister and the world in general. But the thought crossed my mind that there might be meaning here.
I'd parked, went in and was immediately welcomed as if I needed the service of the shelter. When I'd said I didn't, the man who'd greeted me thought I was there to help, and he sent me to the kitchen, where they were underway cooking hot meals to be served for dinner a while later. I wasn't a fighter, and I just went along. There wasn't much talking, other than instructions what to do, but it was busy and time passed. Then I was serving and seeing so many people, so needy, so appreciative and something clicked for me, one tiny cog into place inside me that made me feel like I was in the right place, had something to offer.
So, here I was, years later, still volunteering at the same shelter. I often was in charge, though I hated it and preferred to just help. Today I was "just helping" though also helping some of the newer "recruits". One of them talked way too much for my liking, asking everyone about themselves, if they'd ever been a "client" of the shelter, what they did, where they lived and about every other intrusive question that could be asked. But he was a willing worker, always helping, always working, so he was a good guy despite his annoying social skills.
"So, Jimmy," he was going on, as we were cleaning the kitchen together as the others were already serving a hot but sorely lacking Christmas dinner, "You wanna go out sometime?"
It finally invaded my consciousness that he wasn't just droning on; in fact he was asking me out. I looked up from my scrubbing burnt-on food off the huge ten-burner stove that had seen better days but worked and some restaurant had donated to the shelter and looked at him.
"It's not like I haven't been hinting at wanting to go out with you since my first day here," he went on when I looked up at him.
I'm sure I was scowling, but he, as he usually was, was grinning. He had a face only a mother could love, to use a phrase my grandmother might have had she seen him. But it was a kind face, scarred but not disfigured, just not handsome. Some artist - like those ones who paint old, native Americans - could do a helluva painting of Jesse's face. But I also noticed, as I had before but this time with a bit different interest, that he was BUILT . . . as in a HOT bod!
Jesse was a little older than me - late twenties - and stood a bit taller than me, about six-two I guessed. His shoulders were wide and huge, like he was wearing football pads under his long sleeved t-shirt, the type he always seemed to wear. The type that fight TIGHT across slab pecs and tapered to being very loose at his obviously narrow waist. He was just grinning at me, working the counter along the adjacent wall to the stove. "Like what you see?" he asked, a mischievous bent to his grin now.
I'd gone from that narrow waist at the bottom of the wide v-shaped torso to his long legs, and somehow I'd only just noticed that his jeans were almost threadbare at the crotch, and his package was causing an impressive bulge. I involuntarily licked my lips, and Jesse hooted. "Yeah, now that's what I'm talking about! FINALLY you notice me, Jimmy!"
I looked back up at his face, with a note of exasperation at his having noticed my involuntary reaction, but I then suddenly realized he had the most iridescent green eyes I'd ever seen. And this time he suddenly looked very masculine and appealing - still not handsome, not even good looking, but very appealing in a hard, masculine way.
"You have my attention, Jesse," I said honestly.
"Well, it's about darn time!" he laughed good-naturedly. "I've been trying to get you interested in me since the first time I saw you. I even have asked all the people here about you, if you have a boyfriend - or heaven-forbid," and he looked skyward, crossed himself, and continued, "Sorry, no disrespect intended," and then, back to me, "a GIRLfriend." He shuddered, and I couldn't help but laugh. "But I DID read you right, didn't I?" he asked, looking hopefully, like, well, like a kid on Christmas.
"You read me right in that way, Jesse," I told him with a smile. "BUT . . . "
"UH OH, here comes the big 'BUT' - I'm afraid to hear it!" he said, feigning fear and cowering, closing his eyes and holding his hands over his ears.
I looked at this stud and marveled that I'd never noticed before how much fun there was in him . . . and how appealing he was. True, I'd isolated myself from anything other than very infrequent random hookups, NEVER EVER at my place, nothing with any possibility of anyone hurting me, either physically or emotionally. Not again, not for either.
Jesse opened his eyes and cocked one hand a little away from his ear. "Is it over yet?"
I winked at him. "If it was already over, and if you hadn't noticed, it wouldn't have been much fun now, would it?" I joked with another lick of my lips.
"OH MAN!" he exclaimed. "That tongue again, Jimmy. You're killing me here! I meant the 'BUT' to the US here."
"There's already an US?" I asked, with some honest amount of incredulity.
"Oh, sorry," he said quickly. "Jen warned me that you're . . . " Then he suddenly got frustrated. "CRAP! I'm blowing this, aren't I?"
Again I joked with him, taking the opening. "Uh, now it's my turn to not have noticed if you did already or are!"
He thought for a minute, studied my evil grin, and then he relaxed. "Can I start over for a minute?" I just waited. Then, as if to answer, I gave him a little wave with my hand, like clearing him to continue. He took a big breath. "OK, so here goes. Jimmy - hell I don't even know your last name so I can't make this as right as it should be but I'll do my best! Jimmy, I'd like to go out with you sometime. I think you're HOT, and I think you're one of the nicest guys I've ever met. So if you'd go out with me, I think we'd both have a great time. Together."
He seemed to have been holding his breath through the entire thing, as if it was some life-dependent proclamation. But the "going-out" part was hard for me. I hadn't "gone out" with anyone - ever. I just didn't do that. EVER! NOBODY got close enough to me for it to matter when they figured out that I wasn't worth their time, friendship or . . . love.
But Jesse was so sincere, so intent. And so VERY appealing, as my traitorous dick was reminding me in my tightening jeans. "Um, I don't really 'go out'," I told him, making air quotes. "But I do, very occasionally, go IN," I told him, making my proposition clear with my lascivious grin.
Jesse looked a bit crestfallen. "UH, well, I was hoping . . . "
I had two choices here. The easy out - telling him I don't date and suggesting he find someone else . . . and giving up the opp my dick was so insistently telling me it wanted - or the harder path, pun INtended! "Look, Jesse, my life is very complicated, and it's not open to negotiation. But you're fucking - ooops, sorry, not on Christmas! - you're dang hot, and I'd love to roll around naked with you . . . soon!"
"So don't take this the wrong way, Jimmy," Jesse said with some discomfort, "But I don't usually just hook up randomly."
I pointedly looked down at his even more prominently bulging crotch. "Uh, is that ALL of you talking or . . . ?" I asked. He immediately threw both hands - which it looked like it could very well require - over his impressively outlined hardon. I had to laugh at that, and I put my own hands out and thrust my own prominently displayed crotch-bulge forward. "We both feel the same here, Jesse. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. So what do you say you give in to it . . . because believe me, I'm not the easiest guy to get with, and, apparently," I said, with a demonstrative downward nod to Jimmy Junior, stretching the denim of my jeans, "You've got my attention AND my interest."
"Would you consider--" he started with a devilish grin, but I cut him off.
"Your place, after we're finished here. That's what I'd consider. You and me naked, Christmas night together. That's it."
I'd said it somewhat more harshly than I intended, but Jesse only flinched for a moment. "If that's what you're offering, Jimmy . . . " he replied, still holding my gaze, but a bit of a disappointment to it.
Some way to start out a hookup! I took a step forward and pushed my hand under his and grabbed his hardon - firmly! - and with my other hand grabbed his ass. WOW! HARD bubble buttcheek - OH HELL YES! "That's what I'm offering, Jesse," I told him with my best you're-gonna-love-my-cock-up-your-ass voice.
Jesse groaned, and his cock twitched and throbbed in my grip as I gripped his buttcheek and squeezed it appreciatively. "Okay," he rasped. "When we get off. Er, I mean-"
I laughed at his choice of words and his embarrassment. "Oh yeah, we're definitely getting off! I need this . . . and it seems like you do, too," I observed and gave his cock a squeeze. His groan was longer and turned to a moan that time. And then I disengaged, causing him to gasp. "But now, we've got a kitchen to clean up here, and if we don't get back to it, it'll be new year's day before we're done!" I said with a smile.
Jesse's hands were back covering his even-more-bulged-out crotch, and a blush had replaced the flush he'd had when I was handling him. "Uh, yeah, let's get going," he said self-consciously turning away from me.
We finished the cleanup a bit over an hour later, both of us working harder, faster than usual. There was no time pressure, just our urgency to get on to our funtime later. Or maybe that's what it was for me, having made the decision, having my cock now set on its rare satisfaction with another living, breathing person inside of my own left hand! For Jesse I sensed it was a bit of embarrassment for having agreed to act like a whore - that was what I thought he must be thinking, given the few clues he'd given me earlier that he might be more "relationship oriented" than "sexual satisfaction oriented" on the scale.
"Let's say our goodbyes and get to your place, Jesse. I'm READY!" I encouraged him with enthusiasm, brushing my hand on his amazing ass again. HOW had I not noticed that before?
When we had, both to our fellow volunteers and to many of the regulars who stayed in the shelter, and we were outside, Jesse had his hands dug in his jeans pockets, shuffling from foot to foot a little. "So, uh," he started, but he obviously didn't know where to go with it.
"So, Jesse, let's get your ass and my cock to your place pronto, and make this Christmas memorable!" I suggested unabashedly. In the patchy glow of the streetlight in the fog which had rolled in, I caught the flicker of his uncertainty. "Up to you," I added quickly. "But I'm definitely UP for it," I proclaimed, lasciviously licking my lips. I knew he liked that earlier, and I hoped it would get him back to wanting it, wanting me, again.
"Let's go then," he said, offering his hand to me.
I looked down at his offered hand, probably with a look like WTF . . . but I quickly covered my dismay at the offer of intimacy - when I'd just planned on fucking his brains out - and I inwardly steeled myself and grasped it. Amazingly warm, despite the chill in the air in the Mission District. I had to give myself permission to feel comforted by his touch, his hold on my hand, which was firm, manly and conveying warmth - I'd steeled myself that much against all threats of feelings.
Jesse pulled me close - by our joined grip - and started walking. We were passing a Walgreens when he suddenly stopped and faced me, not letting go of my hand. "I, uh, well, I need to pick up some . . . uh . . . supplies," he admittedly awkwardly. "I'm not exactly, well, prepared," he added.
"Well, then in the spirit of Christmas and the 'gifts'," I said, again amazing myself with air quotes - I'm not exactly the most jovial person when it comes to self-expression, "It's my treat. Just as you are about to be 'MY TREAT'," I added, again with the fucking air quotes. I was way too into this!
I had a moment of satisfaction when Jesse's eyes widened and then hooded with anticipation when I chose Magnums from the shelf. Well, he'd know soon enough that even they'd be tight on me . . . as I hoped he would be, too!
We got to his apartment after a short bus ride, and when we got in and shucked our coats, me following his lead and putting mine on a hanger in his closet with his, he turned with a look of uncertainty. I took a step toward him, and I heard his breath catch. He saw me take note. "Uhmmm, I'm a little nervous," he said meekly.
I closed the gap and put my hand on his marvelous ass again. "It's because of the Magnums, isn't it?" I joked, with my best Groucho eyebrow raises, squeezing his amazingly muscled buttcheek and pushing two fingertips against his fuckpucker.
Jesses eyes went wide and rolled just a little, his breathing heavy then for a moment. "FFFF---mmmmmmmm!" he moaned, low and sensuously.
"Less nervous?" I asked him, now two hands massaging his ass, and our crotches were rubbing together. His hardon told me whatever nervousness he had would not be a problem.
He carefully, slowly, almost like he was approaching a wild animal, not wanting to scare me off, wrapped strong arms around me and pulled me tight against him. I stiffened, but he flattened his hands on my back and rubbed me just a little as he put his lips gently to the back of my jaw. His kiss was almost imperceptible it was so soft. But his hold and kiss had me relaxing into him. "Mmmmmmmmm," I moaned, low and long, and I enjoyed the feel of his hard chest against mine as we breathed.
I NEVER did this - never, ever. I sucked and fucked, sure. But I NEVER allowed myself to enjoy the warmth of a man's hold - of anyone's. It was too hard when it was gone, when they decided I was worthless and whatever I'd felt they really hadn't or regretted that they did.
Jesse's hands continued to gently caress my back, and I was powerless not to enjoy the feel of his hold. As if reading my mind, he said, "You need to be held, Jim."
I wanted to resist, wanted to avoid the inevitable point where I wanted that and couldn't have it ever again. I wanted to pull back or to throw him down and just FUCK him . . . and leave after we were both well-satisfied and spent, our passions released and resolved. But I couldn't - there was something in his hold, in the way he radiated caring and warmth - something I hadn't felt - hadn't ALLOWED MYSELF to feel if it had been offered - that was surrounding me and holding me rapt.
I found myself kissing his neck . . . and enjoying the tingling of my lips as they felt and tasted his skin. And then I was kissing his neck harder, sucking on it, possessing him greedily. "OH FUCK, JIMMY!" he moaned and held me tighter, shoved his crotch harder into mine and humped against me.
The animal in me took over - I wanted to possess this man. I wanted to smell, taste, lick, suck and fuck every bit of him and to mark him as MINE, MAKE him MINE. I couldn't control myself, and the screaming in the back of my head NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO JIM! was squelched by the need I felt to enjoy this man's affections, attentions and attractions.
I roughly pulled the long-sleeved flannel shirt he was wearing off of him, with his help to shuck it off the rest of the way when I was already pulling up his t-shirt and yanking it over his head. And then my hands were at his khakis' waist, unbuttoning, unzipping. He started to protest with a, "Slow dowwww-" but went to a gasp when I reached inside and gripped his impressive shaft TIGHT. "OHhhhhhhhhhhh!" he gasped, and his hips shoved him into my grip.
Jesse's body quivered in my touch, and I buried my lips and teeth into his beautiful collar bone. His chest was like a perfect sculpture of a god of manhood, every muscle perfectly etched and dusted with light blond fur, which if I had to guess I'd say he didn't have to trim, it was just that perfectly short and laid soft against his rips and cuts naturally. "OH GOD!" he shouted when I began kissing his chest, even though I was kissing and biting and sucking in ways that would surely leave marks. I couldn't stop myself.
After a moment's slackening against me when he was enjoying my hands and mouth, Jesse suddenly pushed back from me and began ripping - and I do mean RIPPING - my shirt off me. It was a long-sleeved t-shirt over another t-shirt, but he had them together in his grip pulling without any care whatsoever for the state of my shirt afterward. His green eyes were fiery with need, and his big uncut cock jutted out, waving about as he moved, precum beginning to drip off the head at the tip which was all that was exposed, like a perfectly-sized .
"NAKED NOW!" I said sharply. "BOTH OF US!" And with that I helped him with my shirt, threw it across the room and got out of my jeans and boxer briefs faster than he could get a grip to help me. I'd shucked off my shoes already, and I kicked out of my jeans and boxer briefs, then leaned over and ripped off first one thick sock then the other. When I looked up again, Jesse was grinning at me, his hands on his narrow hips, guns flexed, chest hard, abs of death right there in front of me. "GODDAMN! You hide amazing riches under your clothes, STUD!" I told him.
Jesse blushed a little at that, which made my nuts jump. "I was thinking the same damn thing, Jimmy. I've been looking at you all this time, fantasizing about you, and never did I imagine that you have such an amazing body. WOW! And, er, that . . . well, that horse's cock you've got - I'm simultaneously entranced and scared for my life!" he admitted with a pronounced grimace.
As I replied I had the sensation of wondering who the fuck I was. I stepped forward again, until we were chest to chest, wrapped my arms around him and sighed deeply when he did the same, jamming our raging cocks together between our groins.
He felt good - no question about that. Big, tall and all sculpted muscle, warm and insistent against my body. I couldn't help but to moan in pleasure . . . and to growl with desire. "OH FUCK YEAH!" he growled at my incoherent growls. "Great idea you had here, Jimmy," he told me. It made me work to THINK again, and to think about what he meant.
I moved my hands down to his statue-perfect ass and took hold with both hands and squeezed tight, pulling him all the tighter against me. It was appreciated, based on the way he ground harder into me hardon-to-hardon and the wetness I felt from him accompanying my own precum on our abs and groins. I reached down and forced one hand between us and swiped more of his pre off his cockhead, which seemed to be running with it, and I brought it to my lips and licked lasciviously. "Mmmmmmmmmmm!" I said and smacked my lips.
"Let me taste," he said huskily. But when I went to offer him my fingers, he said, "No, this way," and moved in to press his lips against mine.
I reflexively pulled back - jerked back, actually. I DON'T kiss! But I saw the hurt flash in his eyes and over his face and was suddenly conflicted. I went to touch his face - with the precummy, saliva-slick hand - and he then pulled back. "It's okay," he said somewhat curtly, mostly regretfully.
My hand went and caught him around the back of his neck, and I rubbed it gently. "No, it's not okay. This is too good for just okay," I said softly, as I pulled him to me. And, surprising myself that I could, I pressed my lips against his.
Jesse's whimper was plaintiff at first, a moan of need and desire and regret that it had to be so forced all in one. His lips were hot, and he opened to my insistent tongue with little resistance. His mouth was hotter, and just that quickly, another of my boundaries shattered, we were sucking face with a need and urgency that threatened to ignite both of us.
Our cocks and groins and abs were slick with precum as we humped into each other and sucked, licked and explored each other's mouths, battering our lips together, knocking teeth with our primal need and insistence. When we finally broke apart for a moment, we were both panting and wide-eyed. "Holy fuck!" I exclaimed.
Jesse's iridescent green eyes were sparkling, boring into mine. "Yeah, holy fuck for sure!" he said. And then a grin spread across his face. "And speaking of . . . "
He put his hand around my cock, and the sudden rush of heat made my whole body jerk with excitement. "FUCK!"
Jesse's grin widened, and his breath was warm on my lips when he said, "That's what I'm trying to tell you, STUD!"
With a sudden rush of desire, I bent down and caught him at his waist with my shoulder and had him up and was carrying him before he could do anything but cry "WHOA! Where are we going, caveman?"
"Wherever you want to be fucked, studman," I growled and looked around, swinging him around carelessly, him having to pull his head up to avoid the coatrack by the door. "If you don't care, than I may throw you face down over that couch over there . . . or bend you over the kitchen counter."
With his dangling hand behind me he found my crack and ran his finger up it, roughly scraping my pucker, teasing me . . . and getting the reaction he wanted as my body jerked and I growled. "Maybe I'm not the only one who'll get fucked before the night is over, caveman," he taunted me, pressing his finger, which he'd obviously wetted with his mouth, inside me.
"We'll see if you're up to doing anything when you've been caveman-fucked like you've never been fucked. Now where's your fucking bedroom?" I demanded to know, beginning to stomp toward the only other way I could see, a tiny hallway.
"Resourceful caveman," he praised me. "Just keep going - you'll either fuck me in the bathroom or the bedroom because there are only two doors," he said unnecessarily, as we were there.
I kicked one door that was pulled to but not latched with my foot, more show than force, but I was the caveman, wasn't I? It was the bathroom, and I growled with disapproval. In response to my growl he moved his finger inside me, causing me to growl with a pleasure I had only felt from my own finger. "OH FUCK!" I cried out involuntarily.
"I'm HOPING . . . SOOOOOOON," Jesse taunted me.
I growled and kicked the other door open, took the two steps necessary inside to be at the foot of his bed and flung him down roughly on the bed. The act caught him by surprise and his "WHOA!" squelched my own "AAAAA!" when his finger was ripped roughly out of my ass. Oh, well, his was going to be in far more pain . . . shortly.
"FUCK!" I shouted in frustration, remembering that the Walgreen's bag was somewhere in the other room where it had dropped during the clothes removal frenzy. "Just a min-"
"Just hurry up and get the stuff, caveman!" he laughed, and I turned and ran out of the room, my cock so hard it was threatening to bruise my thighs as I ran and it knocked against me.
I was back in a flash and had already torn open the box of condoms and was tearing one of the packets open. Jesse was laying back, legs spread wide, somehow both looking like he couldn't wait and also looking frightened.
Climbing onto the bed and between his long, legs, I spit the package with the condom down by his ass, and I got the lube open and got a good glob on my fingers. "Now's a helluva a time to ask, I know, but-"
"Tested four weeks ago - clean! - and no activity since," he told me.
"Well, that too," I laughed.
"Then what?" he asked up at me, impatient.
I was swirling the lube around on three of my long fingers, and he was looking at that and back at my face, wanting to know what the holdup was but enjoying the sight I thought. "Um, well, I was going to ask if you needed to go, er, to the bathroom to get cle-"
Jesse broke out laughing, cutting me off. "Listen I may not be a good boy scout because I didn't have supplies, but I'm ALWAYS prepared, if you know what I mean. All systems go for entry, captain!" he mugged and saluted me and then grabbed his knees and pulled them back and displayed his beautiful pink blonde-fur-circled rosebud to me.
OH FUCK that hole was fucking BEAUTIFUL! I couldn't resist and dove in face first, not caring that my lube-slicked fingers were getting his ass all gooey in the wrong place as I pulled his butt apart farther to get more of my tongue inside.
"OH FUCKING JESUS!" he said, and I knew he wasn't praying for our Savior, despite it being his birthday.
My tongue went IN - resistant pucker on him, but my tongue was as determined as my waiting cock, and I'd SHOVED inside him and was swirling my tongue and tongue fucking him, causing Jesse to moan and exclaim as I ate his fuckhole with gusto. "Jesus" was replaced with mostly "FUCK YEAH" and "OH MY GOD" which, arguably, could be along the same line as the "Jesus" exclamations, under other circumstances.
I pulled off him long enough to say, "DAMN, Jesse, your ass tastes FINE!" And it did indeed - all man, sweat and a hint of clean musk that had my nuts boiling already. Then I plunged back in for the second course, and he was writhing and moaning like a big, strong bitch!
"Jimmy!" he cried out after a while more of me savoring his fuckpucker and chute. I could fucking feast on his manly hole for HOURS! "FUCK ME, DAMN YOU! I want my first cumshot with you to be while you're fucking me!"
Well, I was a guest, after all, so how could I deny my host's request? With a growl I was on my knees again, grabbed the condom and was about to get it out of the already-open packet when he grabbed it from my hand. "I'll do THIS. You get me lubed up," he ordered. Fortunately I didn't mind pushy bottoms . . . at least when it was my cock they were pushing to get!
When I pressed my throbbing cockhead against his very well-slicked hole - I'd really worked it over with my fingers, going to three of my big fingers to at least get him close, but never touching his prostate for fear that he was too worked up and might blow right there - he flinched hard. "Relax, Jesse," I told him. "You know how to do this, don't you?"
Jesse's teeth were gritted against the pain he knew was coming, and he nodded fast. "Okay," was all he said and closed his eyes.
I surprised myself when I immediately said, "Open your beautiful eyes, Jess. I want us looking at each other when we join."
Jesse opened his eyes and smiled at me, obviously liking my kind words. I meant them, but I'd never, ever said anything like that before, never felt that before. But I pressed into him, my eyes holding his, pressed harder against his pucker, my cock hard as oak and then I felt him push out against me, and I sipped in. "OHFUCK!" he hissed, but he never broke eye contact.
I waited to feel the death grip his fuckmuscle had on my cock loosen a bit, holding still inside him, still gazing deep into the shimmering emerald pools that were his eyes, now misty with the beginning of tears. When I was about to climb out of my skin waiting, I suddenly felt him relax - just a little - and knew we were on TO IT.
If I hadn't been sure he was ready, Jesse moving around me and then pushing himself onto me more would have been my cue. I growled uncontrollably and pushed into him several inches. He hissed, but pushed back more against me, and I kept pushing into his searing hot fuckchute. TIGHT and HOT . . . my fucking nuts were already aboil, and I hadn't even started fucking this hunk yet.
"You're so fucking beautiful, Jimmy," he said through partially clenched teeth and gasps, looking up at me adoringly and bringing one hand up to stroke my cheek.
This wasn't my comfort zone - gentle fucking, intimate talk - but the way Jimmy was looking at me, really LOOKING AT me, smiling, enjoying, exuding warmth and enjoyment, well I was transfixed. I realized that as I was enjoying the glow of his gaze I'd bottomed out in him, mostly when he let out a loud "PPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF," more accomplishment than relief.
"I want to be yours, Jimmy - take me!"
My inner caveman responded instantly, and I began a slow pump, OUT then a fast, jabbing IN that left him breathless and gasping as I repeated. GODDAMN he was TIGHT and my cock was burning from his heat and the perfect fit of his fuckhole around my fucktool.
Every hard THRUST brought another grunt and grin from him. Every out-stroke brought a whimper when my big, flared cockhead pulled his fuckmuscle open at his pucker and threatened to come out. Of course, no fucking way my cock was leaving the Eden that was Jesse's fuckhole . . . at least until its mission was accomplished.
Jesse started pushing back HARD into my thrusts, and I started fucking him faster. The rhythm was perfect between us, and our eyes remained locked. His gaze was mesmerizing - I saw his pain morph to pain and pleasure to just pleasure and then I saw his pleasure begin to boil over and felt it in the urgency with which he fucked back and milked my cock with his amazing ass.
He had both hands dug into my ass, pulling me as I thrusted and as he pushed back into me HARD, grinding on every bottom-out to get me farther into me, as if he was working his way farther up my shaft into my insides, getting every bit. "OHGOD OHGOD OHHHHHGOOOOODDDDD!" he was crying, grimacing with effort but never losing eye contact.
I was pummeling his prostate with my thrusts, ensuring his body wracked with every hit. My own cries were more, "OH FUCK JESSE! OH FUCK YES JESSE! OH FUCK JESSE YOU ARE FUCKING AMAZING!" and more like that as my ecstasy roiled to the edge inside me.
Just when I knew I was about to cum and thought about pulling out and spraying my seed all over his studly hot bod, Jesse pulled himself up and pulled my head down into a deep, red-hot kiss. His muffled, "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMGGGGGGGGGGGG" against my lips confirmed what my cock felt in his buttclench. And then he was jerking with me as my own explosion hit with terrifying force, and I was holding onto him, kissing him desperately, as we both roiled and rolled in the throes of our release . . . and I was lost in Jesse, not just sexually but connected to him.
It was terrifying for me, and I was aware that, as intense was my pleasure, my body was shaking from the fear of having let myself go, let myself FEEL more than just my cock inside his cunt. We were still kissing, finally stopping our mad grind into each other, panting and gasping for breath around our kiss, which neither of us apparently could let go.
We were no longer grinding, not moving at our groins where we were connected, but still struggling to breathe, still kissing, now not urgently, just passionately, wrapped tight in each other's arms. His cum, which had sprayed all over between us, was rolling off my chin and down my chest and stomach, and I knew he had the same all over him. He'd cum a ton - I felt the splattering blasts as he'd pumped out a porn star's load, or one a porn star would have been envious of.
Finally, very slowly, our lips parted, and we leaned together forehead-to-forehead. "MAN!" he said breathily.
"Yeah," I agreed. And just like that it came over me. The fear, the certain knowledge that this was not what it felt like, that it would be ruined in my memory as soon as he was done with me, as soon as he decided I wasn't worth even the moments of kindness he had given me while we were fucking. I didn't realize that I was shaking and crying, more tears flowing faster from my eyes. I just knew I needed to get out of there, needed to leave first before being told to, needed to get back to my very safe place, alone and secure and safe with just me.
When I started to pull away, Jesse held onto me tight. "I have to go," I said forcefully and pulled harder away from him.
Jesse was not giving an inch, and he held me tight. "You're not my prisoner," he said with a soothing but urgent tone and then, "AAAAA!" he cried when my cock pulled free of him. "Jimmy, don't leave me. You're not my prisoner, but I want you to stay with me. You're the best Christmas present I've ever had, and I don't want Christmas to end."
"I can't. You don't understand," I said, struggling in vain against his hold . . . but obviously not as much as I could have.
"Jimmy," he said softly. "Look at me. Please." I'd been looking down, looking away as I struggled, looking anywhere but at him. He gently removed one of his arms from the hold he had on me around my back and very carefully touched my chin then moved it slowly until we were facing one another. "Look at me, Jimmy, please?" he asked sweetly.
I raised my eyes slowly, and I noticed there were tears on his face, which startled me. No way I'd intended to hurt him that much fucking him. As my eyes settled on his, I saw that it wasn't that kind of pain. Somehow gazing into Jesse's beautiful, shining eyes, full of joy and sadness all at once, was like hearing what he was thinking. And I couldn't look away.
"Jimmy," he started softly, his hand caressing my face. I couldn't help but to push my head into his caress - so foreign to me but so welcome and so genuinely offered by him. I felt it in my soul. "Jimmy, I've wanted to be with you for so long. I don't know who hurt you or how, but I would and will never, I could never hurt you."
I looked down, knowing he meant it NOW but he wouldn't, at some point he'd know I wasn't worth caring about, just like everybody else. But Jesse was pushing my chin up again, very gently like before. "Jimmy, look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me you don't see that I care about you, that I've wanted you, and that just now, what we had, it was more than, well, it meant something. I know you felt it too."
I did know. I'd felt it. Just like I'd felt my parents' and older siblings' love until they decided I wasn't worth it. But I'd never looked into their eyes ever and seen or felt what I felt from Jesse. I'd never felt connected to them, yet with Jimmy I FELT IT, felt like we were joined at some deep level, like it had just BEEN there, and we'd suddenly become aware of it.
"It's been so long for me, Jesse," I said with the despair I felt, knowing I was either setting myself for my hurt or his, when he figured out I wasn't worth anything.
He moved in and wrapped his arms around me tight. "Yes, it's been TOO long since you were loved, Jimmy. I fell for you the first time I saw you, and now I know it wasn't just a crush, I know I want to BE with you, Jimmy. However you can, whatever you need it to be. All I ask is that you give it a chance and see if you want to be with me too."
For a moment I thought about forcing myself out of his grasp, about running out and not looking back, about closing this opening that had, somehow, happened tonight. I'd worked hard to put all the pain behind me of having the people I thought had loved me suddenly to decide I was not worth loving. I'd worked hard to get through college on my own, get a career going, make my free time useful to people who needed help. It had been hard . . . and it had been lonely, despite sexual release whenever I felt my own left hand wasn't enough, maybe lonelier because it was just sex, just release of pressure. It had been . . . okay, hadn't it?
I felt Jesse's hug tighten, as if he knew I was struggling within myself. "I want you, Jimmy," he whispered into my ear. Both his words and his warm breath on my ear pulled me toward that dangerous edge.
"Jesse," I almost cried, mournfully.
"YOUR Jesse, however you want me, however you'll have me, Jimmy," he whispered.
I felt myself freefalling into him, and I was clutching him as hard as he was hugging me. And I was crying HARD - long, wailing sobs, completely out of my control to stop them, to stop the flood of pain I'd suppressed for so long. But Jesse held me tight and let me cry, let me get through it.
There is no measurement in my memory of how long we stayed like that before I calmed down again, just that Jesse held me tight through it. Afterward he gently laid me back and held me in his arms. We were obviously still a gooey, sticky mess from the fucking, but he held me against him, his chest to my back, and his face buried in the back of my neck, just nuzzling me and holding me close.
I woke up a bit later and found him still holding me, but at some point he'd quietly gotten up, gotten the condom off me, cleaned himself up and me a little, then apparently tucked us both in and resumed his position. My instinct was to get up without disturbing him and to RUN HOME. But just as I thought that, he tightened his hug from behind me and throatily, half-sleeping, said into my ear, "I've got you, Jimmy. You're safe," and nuzzled the back of my neck, the beginnings of a snore following his words.
I could see the clock on the nightstand without moving and disturbing him. It was three in the morning, judging from the darkness outside the window of his tiny bedroom. Christmas was over, but this hadn't been a Christmas dream. I pressed back against his warm, muscled torso and took his arms around me in my hands and pulled him closer. For me, right then, it was a Christmas miracle.