I was born and bred a city boy. The truth is I don't feel secure unless there's at least a couple of square miles of concrete all around me, a good mix of exhaust fumes in the air and street lights shining through my bedroom window the whole night!
I was it two minds about responding to the generous offer of a friend of his self-catering cottage deep in the countryside of Surrey for a few days. Self-catering sounds pretty scary, the only 'self' thing I'm any good at really is wanking myself off!
I eat mostly take-outs or things that just require a few seconds in the microwave. Not a brilliant diet I suppose but heck, who wants to live forever! I suppose I can stock up with plenty of ready made meals, I know that this cottage isn't so rustic that it doesn't have a microwave. If push comes to shove I'm a pretty dab hand at making toast.
When I got my new job and able to invest in a more reliable car I promised myself that I'd get away more often. The timing is right as well. I've just come out of an intense, pretty long-term relationship, which has left me in a mess emotionally. Relationships are important to me. I thought this one was really going somewhere special so I'm hurting badly and not a little disillusioned. I really do need some 'own' time to try and sort myself out a bit. No doubt about it, I definitely need the break and a complete change of scenery could do me a lot of good. As a 25 year old attractive gay guy, in my current state of mind, I'm probably too susceptible to the considerable attractions on offer at the places I usually frequent socially. I'm not ready for that, I really couldn't stand to get hurt again. I am a vulnerable, wounded soul at the moment.
A cottage in the country sounds good on the face of it, but I'm a bit worried about what one does in the middle of nowhere for days on end? No clubs, no social life as such, just a pub in the nearest village, no doubt filled with locals curious about a stranger in their midst. I have to confess that there's only so much reading I can cope with in any one day. I know there's a TV in the cottage but no internet connection. I suppose I could go on long walks or just sit and watch birds and nature and stuff? Sleep a lot, sort of chill out?
So I go around to the Adult Shop near my place and stock up with a pile of DVDs. They're cheap enough and at least you get to give them back. There's nothing more maddening than purchasing a DVD with a hot picture on the cover, or illustrated as hot on the net, only to discover the content is anything but hot - not hot for my likes anyway. My worse are those DVDs dominated by that nauseating sound track music which open smack bang into full-blown sex scenes without pre-amble of any kind. For me there's nothing more sexy than a guy fully clothed who, following a bit of a story line, ends up stripping off to make love with another guy. And I prefer some kind of dialogue more sophisticated than an occasional grunt, groan, 'Aaah!' or muffled, 'Fuck!' Call me sensitive. I know I'm asking a bit much, it's just porn after all, but a different level of erotic DVD would be good. Anyway . . . . . . . that's another story.
When I finally find the cottage in the depths of wooded countryside, with very limited help from my GPS I might add, I unpack trying to feel glad to have arrived. I've only been here for 10 minutes and I'm lonely already. It's so quiet! Quiet enough to make you jump out of your skin if you just fart. It's still an hour or more before lunch and so perhaps a good walk would be good. Jeepers, walking over rough ground and rutted tracks is pretty tough going but I'm determined to experience the full country gambit from the start. Shouldn't someone clear away all these stones and branches and stuff? I climb over a low wooden farm gate with difficulty but come down too heavily on the uneven ground on the other side. Shit! That's so sore! I sit on the grass for a few minutes nursing my ankle before deciding to retreat to the safety of my little stone cottage. Hurts like mad though, wish I had a walking stick. Maybe I can grab a branch and use that for support, there's plenty of loose ones just lying around all over the place. I bend down for one and nearly crap myself when someone says, 'Are you okay?'
This person sort of materialized out of nowhere. I turn red faced, heart beating a bit fast, feeling not a little stupid. There's this young guy, about my age with a concerned look on his face looking down at me. Definitely a farm type. Brownish hair with lighter flecks from the sun, too long to be fashionable, in the city anyway. Nice looking though but geez, talk about scruffy! Jeans that should have been in the wash days ago and a well worn top that he must have bought cheap on a jumble sale. Tight fitting top though, showing off a tough work honed body, broad shoulders - about 5ft 11ish. Cowboy boots or something for heaven's sake! Looking like the sort of person you'd consider giving a couple of quid if he stood on a street corner.
'Oh hi, think I've twisted my ankle or something.'
'I'm not suprized wearing those shoes to walk around these parts. Here, let me help you. I'm Michael by the way.' Huh, a real attractive smile, not mocking or anything.
'Glad you came along,' I'm genuinely relieved, 'I'm Jonathan.'
He takes my arm. No doubt about it, a strong guy and definitely from the farm! He's clean but pretty sweaty from a hard day in the fields, whatever, all sorts of unidentifiable odours wafting from him - best not to know. With his assistance I manage to hobble back to the cottage. Once inside I make it to the couch and just about collapse onto it with much relief, reaffirming my low pain threshold. After a bit of small talk, Michael leaves.
I run a shallow hot bath, adding some bath salts someone has left behind, and just stand in it trying to get some relief. Doesn't help much, how the heck am I supposed to know what to do? I dry off and settle down on the couch with my leg up seriously considering leaving the next morning if I can drive, and thankfully drift off into a light sleep.
I awake with a start hearing a light tapping at the door. In the city such a feeble noise would never have awakened me but this country quiet is something else. The sound of a pin dropping would wake the dead! I hobble to the door. It's Michael, he's made no attempt to clean himself up.
'Hope I'm not disturbing you Jonathan?' Wow, I so like the way he says my name.
'Not at all,' I lie, 'Come in.'
'Thought you might do with a bit of help with that ankle?'
'You're not wrong there.'
I sit back down on the couch. Michael kneels at my feet, places my injured leg on his muscular thighs. He's brought a roll of elastic bandage and proceeds to wrap it around my foot and ankle.
'This needs to be supported for a few days and it'll be fine, try to not get it wet.'
'How come you know such a lot about first aid?'
'Well we live a pretty isolated existence out here and have to fend for ourselves a lot, and you'd be amazed at how much of what we do with the animals works well on humans.' My mind boggles, running away at the possibilities!
'Who's 'we', your wife and . . . . . .?'
'No, I'm not married. In fact I'm alone in that big farm house you passed on the way to this place.'
'If you don't mind me asking, aren't you a bit young to own such a big farm?' Tact has never been one of my many attributes. I am totally nosey.
Michael keeps quiet for a few seconds and I can see that tears are beginning to form.
'Oh, I'm so sorry Michael, I didn't mean . . . . . .'
'No, no it's fine.' Another hesitation as he takes a deep breath. 'I was born and bred here on the farm and until six months ago I lived here with my folks. They died in a car accident.' Catching his breath, more tears forming which he tries to hide.
My heart goes out to him as I recognize another wounded soul. This guy is really hurting and I have to resist pulling him towards me and giving him a tight hug.
'I'm so sorry.' There's nothing one can say that helps is there?
Michael gulps and attempts a smile, 'What about you? What's an obvious city boy doing out here in the sticks on his own?'
It's my turn to hesitate and just about tear up. 'Just trying to cope with a recent broken relationship.'
'What . . . . did she . . . . . ?'
'It was a 'he'.'
'Oh, oh I see . . . .'
Well that's the end of that then, he's going to back off so fast it'll make his head spin!
Sure enough, 'Look I've got to get going.' and heads for the door.
I'm really surprised at how disappointed I am. Why? Maybe I'm just an emotional mess.
Michael opens the door, and then, just as he's going through he stops and asks, 'Do you ride Jonathan?'
'Yeah, you know ride, a horse?'
'Oh, a horse! I thought you meant a car. (blush) Man, I can't even ride a bicycle!'
'Well, if you'd like, we'll give your ankle a day's break and then I'll fetch you the day after tomorrow and we'll give it a try - oh and wear your scruffiest clothes, if you've got any.' Knowing twinkle in his eye.
I am absolutely amazed and filled with unexpected delight. I manage to close my gaping mouth enough to say, 'I'd like that very much indeed. See you Wednesday then, Michael.'
I never realized before what a beautiful name is Michael. In fact, wipe off all the dirt and give him a good scrub, and Michael himself would be pretty stunning.
The thought of scrubbing a naked Michael off took precedent over the porn DVD I was going to watch that night as I vigorously wanked off. Oh yeah, as I pumped away, I imagined that I was gripping Michael's cock. I wondered what his cum tasted like as I shot my load particularly powerfully, saying his name as I came, 'Michael, Michael.' Honestly, I can be such a slut!
I do however realize that there's so much more to this than lust. There is a definite, immediate connection between the two of us that I find intriguing and exceedingly exciting. I also know that Michael feels the same way, it's the sort of thing you just know instinctively. It's doubtful that Michael would put the word 'attraction' to it, but certainly, 'connection'. Perhaps we're kindred spirits or maybe we recognize how equally vulnerable we both are at this point. Whatever, time will surely tell. I'm wary though because I cannot afford to get involved too emotionally until I've undergone a whole lot more healing. But I confess I like the guy very much indeed.
When I open the door on Wednesday morning, my ankle a whole lot better, Michael grins broadly, no, more than grins, laughs!
'And now?' I instinctively get that prissy look on my face I hate so much.
'What are you wearing on your feet? Surely you've got a sturdy pair of shoes or something?'
'Are you kidding me? These are top of the range trainers, cost me a fortune.'
Michael just shakes his head as we walk to his 4x4 and rattle across to where the horses are stabled. He's dressed rather sexily actually in a tight pair of dark blue jeans and a red tank top. Shows off his muscular build and my eyes keep drifting to the impressive bulge in the front of his pants. Still not what I would call groomed though.
A farmhand, or whatever, is holding the reigns of two horses.
One is clearly a stallion, huge, black, 'well-hung' comes to mind without much prompting! The other is a brown mare. What makes me think the mare is my mount!?
'First lesson Jonathan, a horse isn't like a car you just jump into and ride off. It's an animal which you ride with its consent and cooperation. A good rider develops a rapport with the horse. Spend a few moments stroking and patting its neck.'
Jeepers, this horse is pretty intimidating! Big liquid eyes, wild, eying me with suspicion.
'Wow. They don't look anything this big on TV!' I venture nervously.
'Don't let Cleo, that's your horse's name, sense that you are scared.'
'You're joking of course! How do I stop the bloody horse from knowing that I'm just about shitting myself!'
Michael steps over and grips my arm hanging at my side, which is as stiff as the rest of me, and places it on Cleo's neck. The horse sort of shivers a bit and gives a soft snort.
'See, she likes you.' What's not to like, thinks I?
'She does?' I pat some more a bit harder and dust rises in a light cloud. This horse is majorly dusty and smelly actually. I wipe my hand on my jeans. 'Shouldn't she be a bit, you know, cleaner Michael?'
More laughter. Hmm, sensuous mouth and lovely white teeth. Hey, why am I noticing these things so acutely?
'It's an animal for heaven's sake, sleeps in barn on straw and spends most of the day in an open field. Anyway, the main thing is that she likes you and I think we can try mounting.'
Hmm. Same thought was going through my mind, different setting! There I go again.
'Stand to her left side here, put your left foot into this stirrup, grab here, and then hoist yourself up onto the saddle.'
The bloody horse moves just as I've got my foot caught halfway in the stirrup and I feel pretty stupid sort of hoping around on one leg, my sore one at that. Michael steps forward again, steadies the horse with one hand and inserts my foot more firmly in the metal stirrup with the other. I struggle a bit to lift myself up all the way onto the saddle and Michael gives me a push under my bum. Crap! That feels nice. Shit, stop it, I tell myself.
'Cleo is very docile Jonathan. You don't have to do much, she'll follow Trojan.' Seems a good name for the black beast Michael mounts in one effortless fluid motion.
We're off slowly.
'Try to bob up and down in unison with Cleo's movements. You don't want to be coming down too firmly as she bobs upwards, you could do yourself an injury!' Oh, Michael thinks he's so funny! At least he knows about sensitive balls.
We trot off with Trojan in the lead towards the lane next to the farm house, hedgerows on either side. It's a funny feeling, unlike anything I've experienced before. Within minutes however I can feel myself getting an unwanted erection. This bobbing motion and the heat coming off Cleo, whatever, is causing my cock to stiffen. Michael misses nothing and just smiles knowingly, not that my prick at full mast is difficult to miss.
'It's perfectly natural Jonathan but you'll soon get used to the rhythm. I get a hard-on frequently myself.'
This information isn't helping my erection to subside at all and I try to think of other things like soft clouds, cold showers, or something.
We actually have a great day. I'm a bit of a tonic for Michael as he thinks I'm very comical and it does him good to have a laugh. When we stopped after about a three mile trot I walked around like I have a carrot up my backside, this horse-riding is not for sissies that's for sure. Michael says one gets used to it fairly quickly. We chat easily about just about anything and it seems like we've known one another for a long time. Definitely kindred spirits.
'Seriously Jonathan, if you're going to spend a lot of time in the country you need to get more suitable gear - proper walking shoes, clothes that you're not going to have a nervous breakdown over if you ruin them a bit.'
'Well, thing is, I don't know how often the cottage will be available to me.'
'Look, I've got plenty of accommodation at the farm-house. It's a bit scruffy and rambling but there's loads of room, it's just me rattling around in it. You're welcome as often as you like.'
I'm really moved by this obvious gesture of friendship and it goes a long way in making me begin to feel okay again about myself. Truthfully, I'm even wondering how far this friendship could go, not that I would dream of pushing anything or imposing myself upon Michael. In such a short time his friendship has already become too precious to me and I'm sorry that I've only got two more days left before heading back to the big city.
We get back some time in the afternoon and I definitely have to give my ankle a rest.
'Why don't you come over for a meal tonight Michael?'
'Can you prepare something without too much trouble?'
'Well, I've got a few TV dinners in the freezer. I can put a couple into the microwave.'
'Look man, this is a farm, there's plenty of meat and vegetables and I'm so used to throwing a few things together without a lot of effort. It'll be easier for you come over to my place. Bring a bottle of wine or two if you like.'
I spend a lot of time trying to decide what to wear, thinking I'll dress down more than I would usually. I want to look good but not like I'm coming on to Michael. This is a friendship I'm definitely not going to ruin. The trouble is I don't do what I would call scruffy, (like Michael), so I end up with a plain pair of black jeans with a sky blue collar shirt. Pretty hot though if I say so myself. Understated can be so hot.
'Why're you all dressed up?' Michael gives one of his mischievous grins.
'Just get off my case. I'd bash you over the head with one of these bottles but I couldn't bear to waste good wine!' I've got that prissy look again. Damn!
'Come in man.' Michael puts his arm around my shoulders good naturedly and leads me into his lounge.
Again the conversation flows like we've known one another for ever. I tell jokes as is usual and Michael laughs without restraint at them all - I like this guy! I feel good making him feel good. Yeah man, we are just so good for one another. This is going beyond expectation.
We drink the first bottle of wine as Michael finishes off preparing our meal.
I am so impressed with him. He's so capable in many ways - on the farm, in the kitchen, how he conducts himself and relates to people - and he's cleaned himself up a lot for tonight, he's really handsome, even his hair looks kind of sexy! But I'm determined not to look at him that superficially any more. It wouldn't matter what he looked like or what kind of body he had or even how old he was. Michael is an exceptional guy without doubt who I'm liking more every minute I'm with him. He has grey-green eyes and a most unusual way of looking at you as if he's looking into your soul with a quiet curiosity. His mouth is extraordinarily full and expressive. Oh boy! Most importantly of all I enjoy his company immensely. I wonder if he's got a job for me on the farm!? I'm beginning to see that there are definite compensations here which outweigh the attractions of my city life.
We take forever over the meal and by the time we're finished so is the second bottle. Michael suggests we retire to the lounge for a brandy. So grand! We both walk with exaggerated caution, swaying ever so slightly, down the passage and flop heavily into chairs far too comfortable for those battling to stay awake. The conversation deteriorates to slurred sentences mingled with a lot of sniggering and almost girlish giggles until silence from Michael indicates that he's asleep. I'm little better but what do I do now? I can hardly walk out and leave Michael where he is, and anyway, I don't think I can drive back to the cottage without hitting a tree or some other dreaded hazard of nature. I've got to get him to his room. Jeepers, but he weighs a ton! Thank goodness he wakes up sufficiently to help walk a bit as we totter with our arms around each other's shoulders to his bedroom. My back is practically breaking as I back him towards his bed and let him flop down onto his back, both of us giggling like a couple of girls. I feel a bit dizzy suddenly and end up on top of him which causes us to giggle even more. I can feel his hot breath on my neck and the warmth of his body as I attempt to wriggle off and get unsteadily to my feet. At least I must pull his shoes off, which I do with extreme difficulty, jerking backwards precariously with each one. Better undo his jeans as well, then he can at least curl up comfortably and sleep. Michael sniggers as I fumble with the waist of his jeans and the zip of his fly. I can't help noticing that the bulge I've uncovered in his tight red boxer pants isn't that soft now. I accidentally-on-purpose brush this warm bulge with my hand and am rewarded with a half-leering smile from Michael. My cock stirs in response but I'm in a dilemma. Is this just the result of the booze or what? If I do something about it, will it end our friendship in the brutal light of day? I suppose I could claim to be equally unaware of what I was doing if it turns nasty in the morning? I decide to try something. I softly place my hand on Michael's bulge again but rub it around gently this time to gauge his response. Michael's looking at me and, as far as I can tell, he knows what's going on. Another smile, coupled with an almost pleading look and a slight sigh escapes his lips. I need to be absolutely sure. I feel so profoundly deeply for this guy already and have no intention of jeopardizing this with a half-drunk driven error. I lean over Michael until our faces are just about touching and ask with pronounced clarity, 'Is this okay for you?' Michael just stares into my eyes. Huh? I try again, rubbing his bulge a bit more firmly. 'Is this what you want Michael?' His eyes close for a few seconds and I think he's drifted off, but then they open and there's a clear awareness in them. He says one word only, 'Yes.' Only a single word but speaking volumes, uttered from the depth of his being, almost a surrender.
'Oh Michael, I think I'm falling in love with you, but I'm afraid. I can't be hurt again so soon. I have to be more sure'
Michael responds by putting a hand behind my head and draws me to his lips. I shudder with emotion as his warm tongue enters my mouth tenderly and we kiss. It's soft, gentle, but very, very passionate as we both dare to surrender ourselves to one another. Our mingled saliva indicates an important line already crossed. I collapse on top of him feeling quite weak and we lay in an embrace for a long time just breathing in the different but distinctive boy smells of one another. Michael's erection is obvious as it presses upward just as my own, almost painfully restrained in my jeans, presses down. He initiates a light upward thrust with his hips which conveys his desire, a simple but profound gesture declaring love, I hope, as well as sexual need. I wriggle up from him again and regain my position at his feet pulling on the ends of his trouser legs. His jeans catch on his hips for a moment before slipping right down and off. I lean forward and pull his boxers off as he struggles out of his T shirt. His released erection slaps noisily against his stomach. Magnificent! Michael is as muscular as I had imagined but with that leanness that comes from hard labour. He has a light smattering of brown hair on his chest and a very dark trail from his naval into his curly pubic hair. His large cut cock strains fatly upwards beyond his naval above a heavy pair of low hanging balls. He takes my breath away. I struggle out of my clothes, trying not to look too stupid as I almost fall over trying to get one stuck leg out of my jeans. My own 8 inches is already throbbing hotly. I fall back onto Michael and we gently grind our warm bodies together, including our powerful erections, kissing much more strongly than before. We embrace tightly and hold on to one another for a good while. Tears stream down my face, all the pent up emotion, my pain, is eased as we connect at levels beyond physical. I know it's the same for him as he whispers so meaningfully, 'Oh Jonathan.'
I lick his ear lobes, kiss his neck and trace my tongue down to his nipples his hands in my hair encouraging me as I go lower. His chest feels firm as I massage it and his stomach flutters as the palm of my hand caress around and around. Michael's penis twitches as I brush against its mushroom shaped head with my caressing hand. His need is clear now as he so deliberately pushes his stiff manhood upwards towards my hand. I keep him waiting no longer and grip his cock with my full fist and pump it up and down a few strokes.
'Oh, oh' Michael manages to gasp, eyes wide, looking almost astonished. He's probably never been wanked off by a guy before, in fact I would bet on it that he's not been masturbated by anyone for quite a while judging by his response. A copious amount of pre-cum is already pouring from his cock slit. I pump his cock some more and open his legs wide to massage his balls tenderly but firmly. His penis must be at least as long as mine, say 8 inches, but certainly fatter. It feels amazing to wank it and I am almost wild for wanting to taste it, to roll that beautiful helmet head around in my mouth, to suck Michael's cock really hard until he shoots his hot load, to swallow every last drop of his creamy semen.
With all the self-control I can muster I stop again. I'm still hesitant, still afraid of progressing to a point we will both regret in the morning. I desperately want this relationship to flourish, wherever it may or may not lead, I want, no, I desperately need this lovely guy in my life as my friend.
I try to get Michael to focus fully on what I'm saying to him, 'You have to tell me what you want Michael, for both our sakes. Do you want this to continue? This is something we both have to decide. Don't let your sexual frustration or the fact that we drunk ourselves half to death spoil the special friendship that is obviously growing between us.'
Michael stares into my eyes for a long time. He understands what's going on and he sees how serious I am.
Eventually he smiles, 'Shut up man, you're a big turn off, you know that? Does my cock look and feel like it needs any more encouragement? Enough talking already, wank me off before I go up in a puff of smoke with frustration!'
That's what I need to hear. As I kiss Michael on the lips tenderly, I reach down to take hold of his big penis in a full fist grip and begin long, slow, rhythmic pumps up and down the full length of his shaft. I stroke his cock from above the sensitive rim right down to his hairy bouncing balls. He responds by returning my kiss almost feverishly taking quick breaths for air as he begins to pant and thrust his hips up. I wank him faster, tighter, harder, causing an erotic slapping noise as his balls jerk around between his legs. But not for long. His testicles tighten as his erection swells and quivers even more. No lube is needed as his pre-cum pours extensively down his throbbing shaft onto my fist and grips onto his balls and the sheet between his legs. Wow! If this is pre-cum, he's going to shoot a massive load! Michael reaches down between our sweating stomachs and holds by straining cock tightly. 'I've never held another guy's erect cock,' he remarks in almost wonder. He wanks me for a few glorious strokes and then reaches further down to squeeze my balls as if he's trying to squeeze the spunk out.
He takes my penis again and holds on tight as his climax builds, 'Oh, I think I'm coming Jonathan, wank me harder and kiss me as I come.'
He thinks he's coming? That's a new one I'll have to ask him about another time. I definitely know when I'm about to shoot!
I kiss him wetly, sucking, probing again and again with my tongue as he opens his legs as wide as he can as I pump him strongly.
'Aaaarg', then a deep intake of breath, eyes flash wide open and roll in his head and then his breath explodes in time with his first spurt of warm cum which shoots onto his face. I lick some off, savouring that fresh spunky taste, warm semen smell, which has just been ejaculated from his big tight balls. Again he spurts, shooting onto his neck, another onto his chest, another his stomach and copious sticky amounts soak my pumping fist. I milk him tenderly as he shudders in my arms making sure not to stop until his every spasm has finished.
Michael is almost like a rag doll, spent, no stiffness left anywhere in his body. We continue to embrace lovingly and he just about snuggles into me. After a few minutes it's clear that he's asleep. Hell, I'm frustrated! But what do I do. I'm not about to wake him and I don't think jacking myself off will work in this position and anyway, I so want Michael to do it for me. I do however feel incredibly peaceful. This has been a profound act of love which has deeply moved me, it is so right, and I begin to believe that I can get on with my life at last. This is after all just one night. Fear creeps back though and again I hope with all my being that the morning will not bring embarrassment, guilt, regret or even a relationship so strained that it cannot be restored. I hold Michael close to myself protectively. No ways, I'm not giving him up! After a long while I eventually extradite my tangled limbs from under and around Michael, cover him with a duvet, and find a spare bedroom down the hall.
I sleep fitfully.
I wake with a start feeling bleary eyed, a pounding in my head from all the booze of the night before, and a hard-on stiff enough to snap off. There's noises coming from the kitchen and the aroma of coffee to die for. Then the full force of what happened between Michael and myself floods my memory. If it were possible my hard-on gets even stiffer, but then almost as swiftly subsides somewhat as my fears of the previous night re-surface. What sort of reception am I going to get? How is Michael feeling about what happened between us? He seemed sober enough at the time, but does he remember now?
I can't take a shower and have no change of clothes because I hadn't planned on staying over at Michael's. There's a dressing-gown hanging on the back of the door, a bit too small for me, but I put it on. Taking a deep breath I walk through to the kitchen with not a little trepidation to face the music.
Michael's busy at the stove, doing heaven knows what, but as soon as he sees me cringing in the doorway he comes over, looks me in the face and says, 'I'm sorry about last night.'
Oh no, my worse fears are founded. I begin to feel gutted but manage to mumble, 'Look I'm . . . . . .'
Michael interrupts, 'Honestly Jonathan, I feel so bad. As soon as I woke up this morning I knew I had to apologize at what went on.'
My spirit sinks even lower, all I can manage to do is stare back at him, trying to stop that prissy look appear on my face. After all it takes two to tango, as they say! Attack is the best form of defense sometimes.
Michael continues, 'There we were bonding in the most lovely and intimate of ways, something I've wanted for so long, and then I fall asleep on you. You must consider me so selfish, apart from being frustrated out of your mind.' He embraces me in a tender hug and I immediately worry about the gap in the front of the dressing gown.
My mouth hangs open as I try to assimilate this information through my pounding headache. Michael hasn't finished.
'I'm going to make it up to you . . . . . I'm . . '
'Stop Michael, for goodness sake, take a breath and let me say something.'
It's Michael's turn to look worried.
'Michael, I don't regret anything that happened between us last night, but I am disappointed that it happened so quickly. We've only known one another for a few days and usually I would take time to grow a relationship towards such intimacy. The drink was a big factor, no denying it, but, I can't explain it, ever since the first day we met I've felt a bonding with you, almost a love for you from the start. We are kindred spirits, soul mates. I've been so worried that all of that has been blown away by a response of lust.'
Michael's eyes twinkle as I speak and I know that what I have said resonates with him.
'Jonathan, I don't regret the fact that we got boozed up. I think it enabled me particularly the freedom to acknowledge something that I've secretly known for a long time. I have been lonely, oh so lonely! It's no coincidence that I'm 25 and never married. The truth is I haven't know 'up' from 'down' as far as my sexuality is concerned and I have lived too long in denial. Last night was liberating for me. I feel more whole, more right about who and what I am, more contented, than I have felt in my entire life. And yes, there was, and is, an immediate connection between the two of us that's almost eerie. I don't know how long it takes to fall in love with someone but I think I do love you Jonathan.'
I can do no more than take Michael in my arms and kiss him. It's not passionate in a sexual sense, it's profoundly loving - tender, caring, trying to convey to one another the depth of love that welling up from with us. It speaks volumes, without words, of our brokenness and vulnerability, our fear of putting ourselves on the line to be hurt again.
Michael is so exited, 'We are going to have such a great day Jonathan. I'm going to show you real country, not the manicured fields around this farm, but the unknown, un-kept places where nature is allowed to take its course.'
I'm such a drama queen city boy and have to say, 'I don't think I can get onto a horse again for at least a week!'
Sexy laugh again, 'Not to worry, we'll be using my 4x4.''
We finish breakfast. I shower, resisting the strong temptation to jack myself off to relieve my sexual tension. Michael has given me some of his clothes to wear, we're about the same size and build, oh that is so erotic! Stuffing my considerable package into a pair of his tight boxers brings back vivid scenes from the night before. Oh, oh, don't go there!
Michael's packed a picnic. Where does this guy get the time and inclination to do all this stuff?
Eventually we're off bumping across rough tracks and open fields towards an ominous looking area of overgrown woodland. I'm a bit worried about the 'wild' aspect of nature. But it's totally beautiful! Michael drives down a rutted road with a grass bank to one side and through the bushes I can see water sparkling. We park, offload our picnic and sit in the warm sun on the grassy bank, wild flowers of all colours dotted everywhere. Michael sits right next to me our thighs touching. I haven't felt so at peace for a long time. After enjoying some pretty bulky farm sandwiches washed down with some equally rough cider we both lean back on our elbows with the sun on our faces. My eyes are closed when I feel Michael's hand on the bulge of my jeans feeling me up rather tentatively. 'Hmm, nice.' I encourage him and he rubs a bit harder round and round, stroking my growing length and cupping my balls. The bank is ideal. Michael shifts down the slope so that he's between my now open legs, unbuttons my jeans, pulls down the zip. I help him by lifting my buttocks up off the grass so that he can pull my jeans off over my hips and down to my ankles. My cock is straining hotly upwards as Michael grips it, pumps a few times, holding my balls in his other hand. I know what he wants to do, I want it just as much as he does, but I think he's unsure about how to go about it, so I provide the words.
'I want you to suck my cock Michael. Lift it right up away from my stomach, grip my shaft and pull my foreskin down as far as it will go exposing my cock head fully.' Michael does as I instruct. Oh yeah!
Rather breathlessly, 'Okay, just take it into your mouth, watch your teeth, and suck.' Wow! Michael is a natural cocksucker! I don't have to tell him anything more. He sucks hard, swirls his tongue all around the rim and then bobs his head up and down sucking on my cock head. His mouth slides deeper and deeper down my length until his nose nuzzles my pubic hair. He's got my whole throbbing length down his throat! I'm quickly losing control as he grabs my balls again with his other hand.
'Geez Michael, are you sure you haven't done this before? Oh yes . . . suck harder, faster . . . . feels like you're sucking the spunk out of my balls! Ooooh, oh yeah!'
I'm about to warn Michael that I'm going to come but it's totally too late, those exquisite impossible to stop spasms have started in earnest. My first hot squirt shoots powerfully down his throat. Michael's eyes have been closed but fly open in surprise as he almost gags and lifts his mouth quickly from my ejaculating cock. The second squirts follows almost immediately and lands on his face, dripping down his cheek. Michael re-directs my shooting cock towards my naval and continues to stroke it slowly as I empty my load of spunk. The great thing about guys is that they know not to stop stroking until every last drop has been milked out. My cum pumps out onto my stomach and chest with an intensity that is almost painful, my balls ache. Finally my breathing slows and my groaning stops to sighs and gentle panting. Michael has hardly taken his eyes from mine. There's this awesome connection between us as he wanks the last drops out of me as we keep intense eye contact which has made my orgasm all the more phenomenal. Lust yes, but so much deeper, more profound, love. Not caring about the large quantity of sticky cum all over my torso Michael stretches himself on top of me and kisses me tenderly on the lips saying, 'I just about came myself watching you come Jonathan. Having you vulnerably stretched out under me allowing me to grip your cock and trusting me to hold your sensitive balls was so emotional for me.' Those full sensual lips suck on my neck and I'm giddy with the man-smell of him mixed with that distinctive odor of freshly ejaculated cum, my cum that Michael has lovingly sucked and stroked out of me. I embrace him tightly, holding on to him as if my life depends upon it, trying to make us one. I never want to let him go. There's only one other way that we can get closer.
'Michael I want you to make love to me.'
'But haven't I just . . . . . ? Oh . . . . . you mean . . . . ?
'I need you inside me Michael, I need our bodies to be one, I need you to shoot the essence of your being deep into me.'
'I haven't ever . . . . how . . . . ?
Michael strips naked and I'm astounded again at his beauty and the hardness of his erection wanting me. I want us to face one another and so he takes up position between my open legs which are bent at the knee. Lube is no problem! We both coat his throbbing cock with my cum which still lays wetly glistening on my naked front. Michael probes my puckered butt hole with his swollen cock head which drips slickly with my cum and tentatively pushes forward hesitantly.
'Just push Michael, I'm no virgin.' I push my butt towards his probing manhood and it slides beautifully into me.
'Oh!' Michael's surprised at the feeling. 'Oh, you're warm, tight and oooooh, you're sucking my cock into you. Your butt is pushing my foreskin right back and sucking my cock head so unbelievably!'
'Push all the way in Michael, I want to feel your pubes against my butt and your balls hanging between my legs.'
He needs no more encouragement and thrusts inwards and I feel his stiffness nudging my prostate as he plunges deeper.
'Fuck me hard now Michael, hard, fast, full length in and out!'
He grips my hips on both sides and pumps forcefully in and out at a steady rhythm. An awesome wet squishy sucking noise mixes with the sound of his balls slapping against me on his deep strong in-strokes.
We both watch with delight his fat cock pumping in and out of me with vigour and look into one another's eyes. I'm in awe watching Michael gasping, panting with pleasure and want to see every movement of his face, every change of expression when he comes. I can tell that he's close to shooting his load. His pumping is stronger and faster, his groaning has increased and includes repeated, 'Oh, oh yeah, oh yeah.' And the slapping noise has ceased meaning that his balls are tight now around his hairy base ready to deliver their milky cum. His eyes widen, his teeth clench, his fists grip my hips even tighter as he cries loudly, 'I'm coming Jonathan, oh I'm coming!' I clench my butt muscles as his first spurt explodes from his quivering penis.
I feel his cock buck and jerk strongly inside me and the hot gush of his spunk filling me up feels exquisite. Michael continues to fuck me but more slowly, allowing my tight butt to milk his cock of every spurting drop. The quantity of his cum is immense and quickly froths out of my butt hole, soaks his penis, his pubes, my balls, and drips wetly down between my open legs. Still Michael pumps slowly, grimacing at the super sensitivity of his ejaculating cock head. Eventually he stops and falls exhausted onto me and I feel his cock slowly sliding out with his change of position as his lips cover mine. Michael eyes are full of tears again, I guess with relief of sexual and emotion tension. As he sobs softly I join him with my own tears of relief and joy. I have found a partner, a guy so cute, so amazing, so lovely. A human being I can truly trust and love. Someone to whom I dare bare my heart and with whom I can be my vulnerable self again.
Who would believe that we have known one another for only a few days? This is definitely just an amazing but beautiful beginning!