The wind blew the rain in gusts so that it was coming at me sideways, striking me face on, Most unusual for L.A. It was cold. Biting. And hard driven. There were no hustlers for sale on the meat rack tonight.
I turned off Santa Monica onto Gardner Avenue, heading north toward Melrose, and the change of direction shielded me from the wind. The rain, still pounding on me, became vertical. Halfway down the block I could see the purple and blue neon of The Place. I sidled against the buildings to avoid the rain, pushed the door open and went in. Suddenly the roar of the storm changed to a soft melody, an old Nat King Cole CD was crooning Nature Boy.
I paused a moment to get my bearings. I hadn't been here before so was not known by those sitting at the bar, their backs to me, their eyes seeking recognition in the mirror over the back counter when I entered the room.
The Place was a carpeted and mirrored and chandeliered cocktail lounge. It was hidden on a side street known only to the cognoscenti. Despite the fact that it was on a street of no parking, with no available parking lot in the vicinity, it was crowded. Just about a full house. The customers got here through wind and rain just as I did. Climate was not important to them, but destination was.
I shook the drops of moisture from my shoulders, and wiped a handkerchief through my hair. All the seats at the bar were taken by men of every description. For the most part, they were loners, isolated in their own private worlds.
There was a man in his late years talking animatedly to a young man, but they were in a booth along the far wall, opposite the door. In the booth next to them, and sitting alone, was a blond man, slender and graceful, handsome, as all the patrons seemed to be. His eyes met mine. With a quiet, almost imperceptible smile, he nodded his head. An implied invitation. If Alex Simpson were not waiting for me in the booth next to his, I wondered if I would have joined him. But instead, I walked past, almost reluctantly, slipped into the next booth, and sat down beside Alex.
"So you made it."
"I said I would."
"Yeah, I know," and he turned toward the bar.
The bartender was hairy. You could see black curly hair, masses of it, through his T-shirt, a snug fit, clasping his arms only inches below powerful shoulders. His broad chest, hard nipples and deep belly button were all suggested. Though he was tall, the bar cut him off at the navel, and I felt a flash of disappointment, but when he walked over to us to take my order, I saw it. His basket was full.
Alex smiled at me, that warm welcoming sweetness that he turns on so easily. He was a handsome man with well-formed, regular features. Dark, heavy eyebrows over deepset black eyes. Though he obviously had shaved, his heavy black beard had begun to sprout, an accent to his maleness. He was about my age. Somewhere in the early thirties, though because of the lack of stress-lines in his face, he might even be twenty five.
I had recently met him at a dinner party at my own house. It seems our wives were members of Assistance League and my wife, Laura, had invited them, encouraging a growing friendship. Knowing me as Laura did, I wondered at the inclusion of Alex and Karen into our little social group.
He was an attractive physical animal from anyone's point of view, especially mine, and at this point in my life I was susceptible.
Two of the men who sat at the bar got up and walked through a door that was at the far side of the bar. Another man came in from outside, drenched by the rain, and took one of the empty seats. The older man with the young boy left their booth. The boy minced past us with swiveling hips, the mans' arm around his shoulder. They, too, went through the door. The soft-voiced Cole sang, "Too Young".
In this unreal atmosphere, Alex looked at me and touched my hand. "I thought this would be a good place to meet and get to know each other better."
"I didn't know it was here. Just down the hill from my house - just a few miles away, but I never noticed it. Must have driven past a hundred times."
"Well, they make an effort not to be noticed. It's a kind of a club, you know. For special kind of people. I figured if we met here all the cards would be on the table. You know what I mean. You could just get up and leave, amd that's that. That is, if you don't want to go along with it."
I knew what he was getting at, of course. What I didn't know was how I would react to it. Ever adventuresome, and ever curious, in my twenty-eight years I had not yet stepped over the line into the gay world.
I'd considered it, often of late. Had opportunities ....offers, hints of pressure, leg on leg, innuendos, veiled suggestions, but a certain caution, undefinable, but there, held me back. Perhaps I was waiting for the right man, or maybe the right moment.
On this occasion, I must confess to a stirring in my loins. The soft lighting, the music, the hairy bartender, the sheltering seclusion and the impact of my new friend, Alex, who positively shed masculinity, combined to ignite hidden and repressed fires. I was suddenly shy, a fit of adolescent bashfulness, and I lowered my head, trying to smile as though with confidence.
He squeezed my hand. "You'll like it, I promise. There's only one purpose, you know. And that's pleasure. Personal. Yours to you and mine to me. I'm sure you feel an attraction to me. When I saw you at your house, that night Laura gave the dinner, I wanted you. Knew I had to have you. You must feel the same."
He paused and I turned away and looked around the bar. It was a busy place despite the inclement weather. There had been a shift of customers. New ones coming in from the street; the old seemed to disappear through the door next to the bar. I felt that I should say something, an answer to his candid revelations, but I didn't know what to say. Though I liked the feel of his hand on mine, and the pressure of his leg, I drew away and isolated myself in the corner of the booth. We drank our second drink in silence.
After a while he said, "I have this feeling that you want to jump over the line, but you don't know how. We've all been there, you know. Karen and I've been married six years. I got the itch early. Started with her little brother, summer of 95. That's almost four years ago. We still make it, now and again, he and I, at those swinging parties up in the hills, or once in while, out on my boat.
"That's where it started in the first place....the boat. He begged me to give him a ride. Hell, he was only sixteen. So I headed up toward Anacapa. It was a hot day, not warm and breezy like usual, but real hot and still, and I pulled off my trunks to piss in the ocean, you know, over the side. Felt good to get the trunks off me. I like to be naked, anyway.
Always sail that way when I'm alone, so I took them off. Shit! I figured we're just two guys. What difference did it make?
"And then I saw him looking at me. Not just looking, staring, and rubbing his crotch. His little pink nips were getting hard. I thought Jesus, boyo! What's happening here? His eyes were all over my body. I mean he looked at me like his sister looked at me for Christ's sake. I thought
'You that way? Billy boy' And he pulled his shorts down and stepped out of them. His naked body was slender, no hair, just a bit at the crotch. he was almost feminine, kind of a boy-girl, if you know what I mean. And he was smiling, big and broad, almost laughing. As though this was what he wanted, like he'd been waiting for it to happen.
"I just stood there leaning against the rail, and he came up to me. He knelt down on the deck and touched my balls with his hands, soft like a girl would, only different, and he bent his head forward and kissed my pisser. Yeah, it was hard, shit! It was soaring. I wondered about that, but figured it was the sun and the beer.
"He swallowed it, all the way, his nose in my hair, his hand on my balls and a finger up my ass. It was nice. It was great! I liked it. I watched his head bob back and forth, feeling the pleasure. Jesus it was GREAT! And then I pulled away. The boat was drifting, so I dropped anchor, and we had another beer, and a joint, and went into the cabin to get out of the sun, and he kissed me, like his sister would, real wet and deep. My cock got so hard it hurt, and suddenly I wanted him, I mean I got so fucking hot for this sweet boy-girl I got on my knees and took his cock in my mouth. Just like that. In one instant I became a cocksucker. Shit!
And I sucked him dry, eating his cum, and begging for more. Shit man! I loved it. Like I'd been waitin for it all my life, but never knew it.
Well, we did a lot of sailing from then on, Billy and me."
He was leaning toward me, so close I could smell and feel his sweet warm breath. His eyes were almost closed, barely perceptible through the heavy lashes, and then, his lips touched mine, soft and moist, just a gentle tug of sucking. We lingered for a long time in this half-embrace, desire increasing from the exquisiteness of the gentle kiss. How strange we humans are; our bodies reaching to each other seeking tenderness.
I pulled away from him again and looked about, suddenly conscious that I was in a public room, exploring hungers and sensations that I didn't know existed only moments ago, hungers and sensations in a confused tangle that needed unravelling.
"I don't know if I want to get involved like this. I love sex. Can't get enough of it. Fuck Laurie every night and jack off in the shower every morning. I don't need anything else."
"Don't you?" his voice, a husky whisper.
"Well hell, what about you? You got Karen."
"I got them both, Karen and little brother Bill, and now I want you. I'm making it as clear as I can to you. You want it straight out? I want to kiss you, and suck you and fuck you. I want to make you feel good, man, like you never felt before. And I want you to fuck me. Like I say, the cards are on the table. Let's do it, or let's get out of here."
In his animation, his black eyes sparkled with a fire-like intensity. He smiled as he talked, his lips thickened. "I don't want to love you, man.
I just want to have fun with you. You want it, I can tell. Shit! If you don't, just get up and go. Karen? Hell, Karen'll be there when I get home after I suck your cock, and she'll be hot as me, and we'll fuck up a storm," he paused, and then, "You know what Karen's doing right now, this minute? She's eating pussy. Got her face buried in that hair pie. Buried in you wifes' cunt. You must know that. She and Laura's been making out for a couple of months now. Ever since they met at that goddam club." And he sat back and looked at me as if I were challenging what he said.
And I remembered one night when Laura and I were fucking, and she twisted around to suck my cock, and put her cunt in my face, and I spread the lips, my tongue trying to latch onto the clit, and she cried 'Karen' and I, like a poor sap, I never connected it to anything. Shit! What a fucking mixed up world we live in. But it made me feel glad. Laura making it with Karen. It relieved me. Lifted a cloud. I leaned forward, toward Alex Simpson, and looking into his black eyes, I said in a low voice, "Okay.
I'll stay. You'll have to show me. You're right. I want it, whatever it is, and it's you I want to do it with.
I had made the commitment. There was no backing out now. He smiled that lovely, warm bedroom smile that so enchanted me, and I knew that at this moment I belonged to him.
He brought out a thin, silver cigarette case. It contained twelve neatly packed hand-rolled joints. He lit one, took a heavy drag and handed it to me. The rush of hot smoke seared my throat and lungs, but I held it deep inside me and finally released it in a fit of coughing. It was top quality grass, I guess the best I had ever had. An immediate marvelous glow enveloped me. A lightness that was not there before. We sat separated now, yet bound together by our tacit agreement to give ourselves each to the other, and now that the struggle was over and the commitment made and accepted, we finished the joint and washed away the irritating smoke with one more drink.
The effect of the grass seemed to intensify everything around me. The drink tasted better, the music sweeter, and Alex, more needed. His handsome regular features, his black hair falling over his forehead in a boyish way, his heavy eyebrows hanging over dark eyes, were like magnets drawing me into his world. I was alive, my cock pushing hard against confining jeans. Sitting back in the corner as I was, with marijuanas'
pleasures working through my body, and looking at this beautiful male animal, sent hunger and horniness and need, rushing inside me. He was waiting for the gathering clouds of lust, and abandoned life long restrictions, to come together, and when he recognized that they had, and that I was ready, he stood up.
"Let's go," he muttered, and I followed him to the door at the side of the bar, not totally oblivious to the knowing smile of those seated at the counter. As we passed the bartender, he nodded impassively and pushed a button under the bar. The door clicked open. We followed a short dark hall to another door. I noticed that Alex had a key for this one.
As we entered, there was the sounds of music, which came from a huge jukebox off to one side. It was a disco; loud and dark with flashing lights of many colors. There was a small stage at one end with a dance floor in front of it. It was surrounded by booths containing men, singly or in pairs.
Two, almost naked males, young and handsome, were on the stage. They wore loose sequined jock straps, which barely covered them. They moved their oiled bodies in all directions, coming together at certain intervals of the beat of the loud music, to kiss briefly, and then to dance apart.
The room smelled of mingled sweat, grass and expensive cologne. There was an electric excitement. Let it all hang out the music touted. The flashing lights played over the almost bare bodies of the two dancers.
They pushed their hips forward in time to the music. Bulging baskets and erect nipples. Their tongues wetted their open lips, an invitation to all who watched them. A waiter appeared. He was shirtless, with a bow tie around his neck. Skin- tight pants. He had no body hair, and his nipples were very bright, catching the light, for sequins had been pasted over them. He took us to a booth in a center part of the side walls. It was the best location in the room for seeing what was going on. I questioned that it was empty. "I reserved it," Alex said lightly. Apparently he knew what my decision would be.
I looked around the room. The loud music and the dancing go-go boys excited me. More then I would have expected. They eased their jockstraps off and were now naked, showing everything they had. And what they had was beautiful. The glow of colored lights shimmered over their slim, hairless bodies. Their hard cocks soaring, waved back and forth in time to the beat of the music. Graceful hands fluttered over hanging hairy testicles and swollen nipples, touching, embracing, kissing, loving, and then they separated, skirting over the booths like butterflies, begging all who wanted to, to touch their secret parts.
Alex leaned forward to kiss the dancer who exhibited himself in front of us. I reached out and held his erect cock in my hand. The first hard cock I had ever felt, except my own. My fingers played up and down, over the solid muscle encased in elastic skin, and cupped the loose testicles, and he danced away with a smile.
Alex's leg pressed against mine, his left hand exploring my growing crotch.
"This place is private. A sex club. Men only. Cocksuckers like you and me who want to get fucked. A fun place. No complications. Pleasure's the only thing you can get here, in all its variations. Any time, day or night. There's only one rule. You can't say no to anyone for anything.
If you get asked, you do. Leads to some pretty exciting experiences. That is, if you come here on your own. Once you're teamed up, you can't be interrupted by anyone. Unless you want to, of course."
The two naked dancers left the stage. The music now was sweet, and several couples were on the floor, dancing. It was a comfortable feeling to be here among 'friends'. We all had one thing in common....sex pleasure. No pretensions. And Alex kissed me. Deep, wet, sweet and tender, and I drew his tongue into my mouth in submission. Complications? I knew they were inevitable. A wave of passion that could not be called back, washed over me, but then who wanted to call it back?
He sensed my giving, and gently pulled away. "Let's go," he said. And he led me across the room to a door I had not noticed.
Arm in arm we went down a long hallway lined with closed doors. We stopped at #14. Using a key, we went inside to a well furnished room, dominated by a huge bed on either side of which was a table and lamp. The lights were on, but with only a red bulb in each, casting a complimentary glow around the room. One wall was mirrored, and in its reflection I saw an open door to a bathroom.
He gathered me into his arms, muscular and unyielding. He was not a man who wore cologne, and the natural smell of him, clean and animal, added to my excitement. His agile tongue explored my mouth nibbling at my open lips, and sucking my tongue into the hot wet cave. Though he was gentle, he was demanding too, and I knew he was not to be denied. I belonged to him, all the way now. He pressed his swollen cock against me. It was the rudder guiding my boat through passionate seas. The stubble of his beard scratched my cheek and sent shivers of expection down my spine.
We kicked off our shoes, and scrambled out of our clothes. In moments, we were naked. I was too worked up, too hot, to look at him. And he was turned on too. He slobbered his tongue over my chest to each nipple biting hard, sucking, licking and biting again. The growing bristle on his face scratched against my stomach, and mingled with the considerable blond hairs that grew there. He paused at the navel, and played with it with his tongue, while the tip of my hard and soaring cock brushed against the underside of his neck. The friction of bristling beard played havoc with the nerve ending at the tip, The foreskin had stretched back, and the slick smooth glans rubbed over his stiff beard. Had he not shaved on purpose?
For fear of cumming too soon I had to pull away. he understood. We were both panting now, anxious to consumate our loving, but desirous of prolonging it too.
I fell onto the bed, and rolling on my back looked to the ceiling, black and infinite. He lit another joint, and after inhaling a deep draught of it, passed it to me. The power of it began in my toes and surged upward until I was totally engulfed in its effects. It was like a giant body blush. And the immediate need to come subsided a little, and I knew the climax was delayed. Thank god!
It was then that I raised myself up on my elbows, and looked at him standing there. A god he was, his body of perfect proportions, strong and solid. he was graceful too, in a subtle way, and as I looked at him, he too, stood by the side of the bed looking at me. His huge cock jutted out from its bush of coal black abundant pubic hair. The head of it shining in the red glow of the two lamps.
Unconsciously, he twisted his erect nipples, adding pleasure to an already sensitive body. He looked at me. It was the mentors look, demanding sugjugation. As though I could deny him anything now. I reached my arms to him, my hands touching his lowhanging testicles as carefully as I could, and I pulled him toward me. Raising my head, I kissed them, sucking on the spider web hair that protected them. They were so soft, like velvet and silk. As he moved closer, my tongue kissed the loose-sleeved shaft of his swollen bone. Then I too, became a cocksucker, for his hard erect cock slipped into my mouth. My tongue washed over it, loving the swollen veins and ridges and the ultra smooth skin of the tip. I sucked. And my tongue played on the sensitive underside where the skin comes together.
His control was much better than mine had been, for he was not threatened with and early spouting. Without moving his cock from my grasp, he lay down on the bed beside me, and I continued pleasuring him as well as myself, for I loved the sense of completeness that came from the connection of his body to mine. Except for an occasional whimper he made no sound.
My hands grasped his waist and slid under his buttocks, and gently raised his body closer to me so that I could suck his cock deeper into my throat.
We made love that way for a long time. Then the dam broke, and I swallowed a part of him.
With his hands on my head, he carefully and gently raised it off his cock.
He pulled me forward so that I lay on top of him, my feet leveraged against his. My cock was buried in his bristly pubic bush, our tongues in a deep kiss. And as we kissed, we rocked our hips together giving our cocks a lovely sensual pleasure.
How sweet it was!
This masculine man with the coarse stubble on his cheeks and chin, his arms circled around me, pressed his hard body to mine so that we were almost one. Yes. I love this Alex. I love doing this with you and it is, what you say, a pleasure trip. We do belong to each other. When your cock enters my mouth we are joined together. We are in truth one person, taking all the exquisite sensations the other has to offer.
We lay in a quiet half-sleep, our bodies relaxed and satisfied. My face was buried in the curve of his neck and shoulder, and I kissed the smooth skin, sucking a hickey there, as I thought of what had happened moments before.
The sexual pleasure was exquisite, an unexpected surprise, both as to its occuring at all, and to the intense pleasure it gave me. I knew there would be pleasure to him, sucking his cock in my warm wet mouth. That I knew. But the surprise was the immense pleasure and compete satisfaction that came to me from the sudden ejaculated spouts of sperm. Salty and sweet. Hot cream filling my mouth and striking the back of my throat. A great warmth washed over me; a giant wave of completion, coupled with the knowledge that I had a part of him inside me. I was the fellator, the cocksucker, yet I was the one to receive this subtle and exquisite pleasure. That was the surprise.
I stirred, moving my body from the warmth of his, I broke the spell of the afterglow. My need now was to have his cock again. Once more to suck, to taste him, to transfer the sexual sensations from him to me, then back to him once more. And so I slobbered my tongue down his hairy body, seeking the solid erection, but his cock was but a peepee, limp and relaxed. The foreskin swallowed the smooth red tip, and slipped over the piss slit. The testicles were loose furry sacks covering two marbles, and the heat of past passion brought a marvelous musk odor, the smell of sweat and sex, that from now on to forever would excite me.
I washed the genital area with my tongue. So better to taste him. He raised his hips so I could get to the underside of his balls, back toward the deep crevice of his buttocks. It was intoxicating. I moved forward and took his penis into my mouth, rolling it around my tongue like the somelier tests the cabernet, but life was gone.
His hands fingered the hair on my head, massaging it. It was the only indication that he was awake. I sucked, and teased, and then he spoke.
His voice, a husky whisper.
"Wait, Joe! Come around this way," and the bed began to stir with his slow deliberate movement. "There, that's better, isn't it?"
Now he was completely turned about, his cock, beginning to stir with life, hanging in my face. I kissed it, taking it into my mouth, and I could feel the miracle of the growing erection. And I could also feel the stubble of his sprouting beard as he swallowed my cock into his warm mouth. The incredible sixty-nine. The sweet pleasure of giving and taking. Twice blest, with the working of his tongue on my cock and testicles, while his cock, hard now, was deep down my throat, and as he fucked it back and forth, his hairy musky balls slapped my face.
The excitement mounted as the sensations, coming from two directions, seemed to prolong the growing climax. I sucked hard, anxious for his cum to splash into my throat. And at the same time, I pumped my hips forward and back, fucking my most sensitive cock in and out of his mouth. And all the growing pleasure was accented by his sprouting beard. His technique at fellatio was of abandon, not just accomodation as it was with Laurie.
Laurie sucked to give pleasure to me, but with Alex the pleasure was his, just as sucking his cock gave pleasure to me. The result, transferred itself from one to the other, and with that extra-hardening, I knew he was ready to cum and so was I. We climaxed together in another delicious orgasm.
When the pleasure ebbed away, with my face nestled in his groin, I fell asleep. It was deep, restful and rejuvenating. It lasted but a short time. We began to stir. Again in tandem, slobbering lips, kisses and loving, we couldn't get enough of each other. Is this how love is born?
In this enormous wave of passion?
We separated, sitting on the side of the bed that faced the mirrored wall.
The reflection was of two men of similar age and build, not muscular, but with natural bodies. One clothed in black hair from head to stubble to spreading hairs covering chest and nipples and cascading down to his rising cock; the other, blond and somewhat hirsute too, the color of coppery red in the glow of the lamp. He handed me a can of beer, cool and revitalizing, and I raised it to my lips and washed away the traces of our loving with a deep and satisfying swallow. He lit a joint, and we shared the beer and the joint until they were gone. Then he touched me and kissed me once more, and the passion returned and began the slow climb to a new plateau.
We had talked very little through all our lovemaking. Communication was by kissing lips and gentle fingertips, grunts and groans of pleasure, encouraging more probing or titillation or pulling away to avoid a too soon climax.
He leaned forward brushing his chest hair on my shoulder, his hand on my cock, his middle finger seeking my hole. "I want to fuck you," he whispered into my ear, "Okay," he asked? "You going to let me fuck you?"
Looking deep into his eyes I saw the hunger, the excitement of anticipation. I knew I wanted him to do it. I had made up my mind to that when I decided earlier in the evening to spend the night with him; but now as we lay naked together, the taste of his love-cum in my throat and my fingers wrapped around his shaft, I wondered if I would be able to take his cock, so erect and hard. His smile was shy, almost bashful. His expression reflected his concern that I would say no, but I smiled back and closed my eyes and nodded my assent. His kiss on the lips was open and tender, and I wondered just how tender the fucking would be.
He placed pillows beneath my buttocks, raising my ass from the bed. Then he placed my feet apart, flat, bending the knees so that they pointed to the ceiling and, all the while, he massaged my hole and pushed his middle finger inside.
"Relax," he said, "We're in no hurry. It's early yet, and with the rain outside we've no place to go. The whole secret is you got to relax. I'll take it easy. Remember it'll hurt a little, but only at first, 'til I get in."
"It's just that you're so fucking big. I can hardly suck on it. How the hell'm I supposed to take it inside me......?"
"I fuck Billy, don't I? If he can take me you can. Billy loves it....you will too. I promise if it hurts too much just yell out and I'll stop....Okay?" And he pulled away and reaching to a drawer in the table by the bed, took a small plastic bottle into his hand. I watched him pour the contents over his swollen cock. The red lamp caught the shimmering oil as it covered his cock and rolled down into his pubic hair. And then he played with my anus again, and I realized he was placing some of the oil into my rectum. His finger slid in easily now, resulting in a curious sensation.
I opened my eyes to look at him hovering above me. The ample locks of his black hair fell over his forehead and almost covered his thick eyebrows.
His eyes in his angular face, were soft and gentle now. Not probing and restless as before. There was just a bare suggestion of a smile on his face as though in remembering the pleasure of past fucks, he was building anticipation for this one.
He bent over me now. The tip of his cock grazing my anus. I received his kiss with my mouth open and my tongue seeking contact with his, and I thought to myself, "Alright you sonova bitch, FUCK! Let's get it over with. I'm sure the pleasure will be all yours. Let's get it done so I can fuck you next," and the thought of sticking my cock into his tight asshole seemed to sustain me for the violation of my own asshole. Jesus! How did I ever let myself get into this? Jesus!
He was easing the cock in, and though my sphincter resisted and tried to refuse entry, he was insistent. Shit! What a fucking awkward position.
And the pain began, sharp and piercing. His tongue was still in my mouth.
Did I bite on it in my agony? My own cock was lost in a tangle of hair that covered his flat stomach. There should have been pleasure there, but the pain was so intense that I could feel nothing else. Christ! It felt as though his cock was all the way in, but he kept pushing further and harder. In our agony of effort we were glued together by sweat pouring from protesting bodies. An then suddenly, when I was about to cry to him to stop, he was in, all the way. We rested a while and the pain eased.
Like a miracle there simply was no pain.
He held me in his arms and kissed me hungrily, with love and passion, and the sleeve of my rectum accepted his swollen muscle joining our bodies together. Now we were truly one.
Very slowly, he began the fucking motion. An enormous wave of pleasure washed over my body like the thrill at the climax of a symphony, or of seeing an evenings' sunset, and I raised my pelvis in cadence with his fucking, and we rocked in a mutual rhythm. His cock filled my rectum and rubbed against my prostate. The sensation mounted to heights that were never expected nor ever before achieved. But then he eased his fucking and the pleasure subsided like the waves rolling back to sea.
We rested, kissed, sucked nipples, tongued ears. And he began to fuck again, and the nerves in my cock came to life and the friction of his cock in my ass, and of my cock on his hairy stomach, sent shivers of ecstacy along my spine like flashes of lightning.
Since we both had ejaculated several times, our testicles were nearly empty of sperm and were not yet ready to come, so the fuck and the incredible pleasure of it, went on and on and on until finally the cum had gathered from the furtherest recesses of the scrotum and, in a final and furious pumping fuck, he reached his climax and so did I spilling my last drops in the wet black hair that grew over his flat stomach.
As the intensity of the fuck subsided so did his cock and we fell apart.
We were no longer connected except for tangled arms and legs, gentle kisses and again we fell into the sleep of the afterglow.
I awoke, not long after. I reached for him but the bed was empty. The sound of the shower striking the tiles in the stall mingled with the muffled roar of the rain pounding the roof outside and told me where he was. I became aware of the dried cum and sweat that covered me. Bounding out of bed, I joined him under the soft hot water. He smiled his welcome and reaching out pulled me to him. Incredibly, my cock began to stir at the contact of his slippery soapy body. The hair was plastered down now as though it were painted on his chest and torso. We kissed long and lovingly and we washed each other and kissed again and touched secret places.
"I love you," I said, "I'll do anything, anything you want that pleases you. I never had anything like before. God! It was so great, so beautiful. You're wonderful! And I love you."
We were sitting on the bed gazing at each others' reflection in the mirror, sharing a beer and a joint. The clock showed 1:30. The rain still pounded on the roof.
He grinned as he looked at me. His smile was wise and enigmatic, perhaps a little cocky and superior. "No," he said, "You don't love me, this is what you love," and he pointed to his cock, resting in the curly hairs of his leg, "and this, and this, and this," touching his loose testicles and his nipples and his mouth. "You're just another guy like me, out for body pleasure. Fuck we don't love anybody, you and me. It's ourselves we love."
I protested what he said, "There's no one in the world but you...."
"I mean it, Alex. It's only you now."
His eyes were soft and longing as a quiet sadness came and went across his face, as though he wished it were true. And he bent forward to kiss me.
A lingering tenderness accented my statement, "This is love, Alex. The most I can give you is myself, and I do and will absolutely. You can have anything, no, everything I've got or will have. I belong to you now.
There is no one else."
His breath escaped in a deep sigh, like air leaving an inflated balloon, and he slumped forward, deflated and dejected. "Let me show you something," he said, as he reached for the telephone.
"Hi, It's Alex Simpson in fourteen. Who's around? Ducy? Yeah send him in. Yeah, you said it. Thanks." He embraced me and fondled my cock and balls, loved my nipples with a warm and serious kiss. I fell back upon the bed, and with his tongue he played across my naked body with wet kisses, that scarred my soul with their intensity. "Yes, I wish it were so. I really do," he said almost silently.
The door barely sounded as it opened and then closed. The man who entered was black. Looking up from the mattress he appeared to be a giant. I later learned he was six-five tall. His naked body was magnificently proportioned, broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, long legs and slender ankles. There was no hair on his body, except of a sandpaper patch, short and curly, surrounding his humungous erect cock. He was of a dark mahagony color on shiny smooth skin; his flesh was firm, not fat, and a flat stomach rippled with surface muscles. His cock was erect, straight up, perpendicular to his body. I couldn't tell if he was cut or not, the foreskin must have pulled back revealing the smooth pink skin of the tip of it. His testicles were not loose and hanging, but solid round balls full of precious cum. He stood with his feet apart, his cock swaying slightly to and fro, and with his left hand he massaged his balls as if to prepare and warm the sperm contained inside.
It was after I surveyed and digested his body that I looked up at his face.
He was handsome in an asian way, his almonds shaped eyes were far apart;
his nose had flared nostrils. The smile was open and wide indicating his pleasure at what he was about to do. His teeth were even and white and his chin, firm and determined. There was no hair on his head for it had been shaved and the effect was theatrical and startling and, as I gazed at him, this complete male animal, I said aloud for all to hear, "You are beautiful. So goddam beautiful," and I raised my legs exposing my asshole.
"Please sir, fuck me!" I said.
I Knew then what Alex meant. I do not belong to any one man. I belong to everyone. Maybe even you.