A Post-Debate Fuck

by Paul Lantoro

12 Oct 2016 5894 readers Score 8.7 (136 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


Oh America.  You drive me crazy lately, but you really are the land of opportunity sometimes.

I went over to my friends’ apartment to watch the Clinton-vs-Trump presidential debate on Sunday night.  They live in Jamaica Plain, a part of Boston, and their crowd of friends is kind of ‘granola’ if you know what I mean. Activist people, yoga people, ukulele-playing people, vegetarian people, and most of them were crazy for Bernie Sanders (and hated Hillary) during the Democratic primary contest, last winter and spring.

I really am fond of ‘em, my leftie hippie-dippy friends.  But in limited doses.  I don’t really follow politics that intensely.  I’ll vote for whoever seems smarter, whoever I think is likelier to not fuck up the economy or start a war.  

But I decided to go over and watch the debate with them.  There’s four or five of them who live there, in this big old Victorian mini-mansion in Jamaica Plain, down near the Monument.  I only knew two of the roommates: the ones who invited me. I hooked up with one of them years ago and we stayed friends for some reason.  That’s how I got connected to this tribe that isn’t really mine.

It was a crowded room, a mix of gay and straight, mostly gay but it’s hard to tell with hipster-type boys, know what I mean?  Nicely trimmed beards and jaunty clothes styles and kind eyes that look into yours when they talk to you, and their well-toned bodies with those bicyclist butts, and they’re willing to hug you and stuff.  Hard to get a read on some of them.  Some of them are damn cute though.

Well, if you didn’t watch it or read about it… this debate was a tense and mean one, chock full of personal attacks and power struggles.  And there we were all in this crowded room on sofas and chairs and pillows on the floor, and everybody was an Opinion Giver.  I was like, shut up and let’s listen to the actual debate, right?  Yak yak, blah blah, everyone’s talking. It was fun being with this lively group watching a sloppy piece of American history get made in real time, but it was frustrating too. 

So halfway during the debate, somebody gets up from the sofa, a petite skinny girl with long reddish brown hair.  People are yelling this and yelling that at the TV, and pontificating, “Hillary’s being too X, she needs to do more Y because Trump’s being all Z” and stuff like that.

I notice this cute hipster-gay guy sitting on the sofa next to the little empty space created when skinny girl got up.  I’ve met him before at one of these things, he’s gay and he’s sweet.  He looks to be early 20s, cute curly brown hair, soft brown goatee, beautiful facial features with big expressive dark brown eyes and full sexy lips.  His body is slender/lean but in shape, and he’s wearing loose cotton olive-green drawstring pants and a tight T shirt with some slogan on it in a foreign language. 

Me, I’m a bigger dude, six foot three and muscular/thick.  I don’t ever lie about being sexually into men, but I get mistaken for straight all the time.  My strategy is to be obviously flirty and make a move, be kind of bold, you know, when I want to indicate to somebody that I am in fact on Team Homo.  Just telling you all this as background, for the fun that happened next.

So there I was, this big solid guy sitting scrunched down on the floor in the crowd, sitting on random pillows and mats and all that, because I got there late.  But now with this spot available on the sofa, I decided to upgrade – and to squeeze in next to sexy-looking Gay Hipster Boy.

I rise.  I nod to sexy Hipster Boy sitting on the end of the sofa and this other girl in the middle, on the other side of him.

“Hey – mind if I squeeze in there?” 

She shrugs to indicate “ok” -- and Hipster Boy seems to like the look of me, he smiles a gorgeous smile and says “Sure, come on over.” 

So I squeeze in between them, but I’m actually giving the girl a half-inch of space and really what I'm doing is squeezing in with Hipster Boy, to my right.    

The debate is lumbering on, Trump is fighting with a moderator and bashing Hillary, and people around me are spouting off their feelings and thoughts about what they’re seeing.  I turn to Hipster Boy and lean toward his ear and smile and say “Hey – I’m Paul.  I think I met you before but what’s your name again?”

“Micah.”  I had no memory, to be honest.

“Oh right: Micah.”  I feel his lean limber body, warm alongside mine, as we sit there on the sofa.  I lean in again.  “So Micah… tell me… you voted for Bernie, didn’t ya.”

He smiles that sweet smile.  I glance up at those cute swirly curls of deep brown hair all over his head. “More than that. I went door to door for him, registering voters, did a lot of other things…”

I’m impressed, and I feel like cute slim hipster Micah is a superior human being to me.  I never volunteered for any political candidate.  I’m kind of selfish. I’m slowly working to change that, but it’s my default mode.  But Micah seems so sweet and earnest, my own face just inches away from his handsome-pretty face with its perfect skin and sexy trim beard.  

And now horniness kicks in, and I want to fuck him. 

I stretch my thick meaty right arm out behind Micah, draping it across the back of the sofa, resting it just a touch on his back and neck, so he feels my body on him a little more.  I smirk. “That ok?” I ask, knowing that it is.

“Totally” he says, with a hint of eagerness.  I feel my dick twitch with interest, in my jeans.  If I can, I’m gonna try to bring Micah home with me. 

I move my arm down just a little, and my hand comes to rest on his shoulder and arm.  I lean into him just a micro-degree more, and he responds by kind of snuggling into me just a little bit more.  It’s imperceptible to the rest of the room… but I can feel that Micah and me, we are both highly attuned now to these micro-movements, happening between us.

What I did next is kind of funny.  Some of the young women started ranting all over again about the stuff Trump was caught saying on tape, nasty sexual talk, things he said back in 1995 but it all just got leaked on Friday night two nights before this debate.  He said on tape, one of the things he enjoys doing is groping hot women, with no consent, “just grab them by the pussy.”  It was explosive, when this recording hit the news.  Some Republicans (Trump’s political party) went on record to say they don’t endorse him anymore.  And it caused a lot of women, especially, to remember times that men had done stuff like that, or almost-like-that, to them.  In other words, Trump is now pretty much burnt toast and Hillary is our next Prez. 

So a bunch of our debate watchers at this party, started carrying on about this scandal all over again.  “I just – what kind of a man THINKS that way, DOES that?” 

I grin and say quietly, to Micah, “I have no idea” – as I slide my arm down and tuck my hand between the side of the sofa and his hip, where the yoga pants meet his bare skin.  His hip feels smooth and cool to the touch, which means my big meaty hand feels very warm on his skin.  I bet he likes this.

Indeed, Micah snuggles into me more and licks his sensual lips, and he smiles, silent.

Another girl says “Like, he actually said ‘grab them by the PUSSY.’  He actually SAID THAT!  Disgusting, sick.” Others agree. “I don’t want to picture how that actually takes place.”

I smile quietly and say toward Micah in a low voice, “Terrible. Sick.”  And I slide my big warm hand down his loose-string yoga pants and under his underwear, and onto his butt.  Just like that.  My hand is now cupping Micah’s ass cheek.  It’s mostly smooth with a light coat of fur on it, from what I can feel.  I can’t wait to make love to this butt, and fuck it good. 

Micah smiles a bigger smile now and he raises his butt just a half-inch off the sofa cushion… and I take that as an invitation to get an even better hand grip on this sexy, sexy butt.  I claim it as mine, as he sits back down gently on my hand.  Everyone else is glued to the TV and watching, commenting, worrying about the fate of America.  Me, I’m down to fuck. And I think Micah is, too, if I’m lucky.

There’s a crazy moment where Trump actually says “If I win, I’m gonna put her in jail.”  Everyone goes wild in the group around us.  Micah snuggles up into me a little more, and my hand is gently squeezing his sexy butt, and he whispers in my ear “Paul… I’m having multi-sensory overload right now. Your hand, YES, and Oh my god Trump is such a nightmare, a fascist thug! I’m kind of flipping out…”

Everyone around us is yelling all kinds of stuff.  I whisper back into Micah’s ear. “How about you come home with me, and we can just lay back and I’ll help you process all this… any way you want. Cuddle, fuck, backrub, whatever you want.”

Micah’s deep brown eyes look back into mine with mischief and he says “That’s tempting, but… I live here.”

Really.  He tells me more. He was just a friend of theirs last year when I first met him at a party, but just two months ago he moved into a spare room that became available. 

So now I decide to be a good human, a volunteer, like Micah. I stick around and help him and the other housemates with cleanup, and we’re all talking in their kitchen long after the debate is over and most everyone else has left.   My friend signals to me, face and hand gesture, to say “You and Micah? An item?”  I grin and nod, with a face expression that says “Yep, that’s my plan here..."

Moments later my friend says “Really, all the rest of these dishes and stuff can wait til morning.  Why don’t the two of you go upstairs and… hang out.”  He winks exaggeratedly. 

Micah snickers, trying to refuse to be embarrassed.  “Damn, no secrets around here…”

A half hour later we’re in Micah’s bed, upstairs in his room, and we’re both completely naked.  And I’m holding him and stroking those pretty curls of hair and his handsome beard, and kissing him.  His lips are maybe the most sensual lips I ever kissed.  I don’t want to stop.  My dick is hard and his hands are wandering all over my body, exploring my muscles, stroking my dick.  He raises a hand to my chest, tracing the muscles, and he tweaks a nipple. I warn him “Oh, hey now, don’t do that unless you want to see what I’m like when the On switch gets flipped.”

He stares up into my eyes, his fingertips gently caress my big pectoral muscles…and then, impishly, he grabs and tweaks my nipple again, even harder.  “Fuck!” I exclaim.

And it’s on.  I throw Micah down and kiss him more intensely, and he’s excited, his cock is hard.  It’s uncut and thick and juicy, as I lean down and start sucking on it.  I deep throat him and lick it up and down, it’s beautiful.  Average size, but perfect and thick and extremely responsive.  I suck that dick with all the skills I’ve got.  And in a few minutes Micah starts really moaning and his lean sexy hips are writhing like a snake, and he says “oh god, I’m close…” and I stop. 

And now I focus on that butt.  I lick down to his balls, keep licking, till my face is in there and tasting that sweet funky animal scent of his butt. It’s clean but there’s that scent, and I like it, I can’t help it, I’m a dirty fuckin’ dog in some ways, and this is one. I love the primal, animal smell and taste of a guy’s butt, it’s like the most intimate and forbidden thing and when I’m turned on like this, I can’t get enough.  I lick and lick, tasting Micah, tasting that sexy butt of his, the hole so funky and delicious, the cheeks so round and sensual and soft and furry.  Hell with the rest of the world: I LOVE THIS BUTT.

And I’m on track to fuck it.

Micah lets me.  It’s clear I intend to fuck him, and I’ve given him enough time to request a condom, and he didn’t, so YEAH! Here we go. I’ve been licking and tongue-dancing up in that sublime fuckin’ hole for like 20 minutes, and it’s very wet and open and ready for me.  I turn him onto his side and I mount him from behind, sliding my big eight inch dick into him slow and easy.  He grabs onto me and onto a pillow as I push, gradual but insistent.  I nuzzle my face into those thick curls of hair on his head, and grab onto his lean, toned, furry chest as I keep pushing my dick into him slow. His hole feels so fucking warm and perfect for me.  Suddenly it opens up even more and I just slide into him all the way, Whoop. I’m in, all in. To the fuckin’ hilt.

I fuck that boy so good, deep and powerful, and he loves it.  He’s babbling that he can’t believe it, can’t believe how the night turned out, and I clamp a meaty hand over his mouth and playfully tell him “Shut the fuck up” and I give it to him even stronger.  A moment later I lose it and I cum deep inside him, holding his slender body down beneath mine as I pump a flood of warm fresh semen into him.  My DNA. I fuckin’ love planting it in a sexy boy like Micah. I rest on top of him and we slowly kiss.  I ask him if he’d like to cum, and he says “actually I feel great just like this... I think I had an orgasm in my butt, all over my body... is that possible?” 

I say “Yeah, definitely possible. Your first?”

Micah says “First orgasm like this?  Yes.  Definitely new. It's... it's amazing. I’m kind of new to being the bottom…”

I tell him he made me feel great too, and that he really turns me on a lot.  I hold him warm and close, my dick softening inside him, and we kiss some more.  “You are fuckin’ beautiful, Micah. So beautiful.” 

I leave after a while, gotta go to work the next morning.  But he texts me to say:

            Thank you. That was so hot. I slept like a baby and forgot all about the debate.”

I reply.  “Me too.” 

Micah: Five out of five stars. Would fuck again.  And maybe we will.

Republicans, Democrats, surely we can all come together. God Bless America.

by Paul Lantoro

Email: [email protected]

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