Almost Like Family

*Note that the following story is a work of semi-fiction, or maybe “inspired by a true story.” Part is 100% true, and part is fantasy, and I leave it to the reader to determine which is which. Certain details have been tweaked to protect the “innocent.” By all means, send feedback along to [email protected]*

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Yeah, things got weird for Jeremy and I.

The next day, after our adventure, I was mentally backpedaling. Okay, so no big deal… we were just messing around and took things too far. Yeah. That was it. I’d never done anything like that, so I’m not gay. Right? C’mon, I have a great wife, a great life, and that’s not me. Really.

Really.

So, I set out to prove to myself that the whole “Jeremy thing” was just a bit of craziness.

First step: to prove all that was just stupid fun taken too far, I put some serious moves on my wife. And over the next few days I had more sex with her than at any time since our honeymoon. And I pushed things, too. I really wanted to… I dunno, let loose, I guess. She was okay with things for a bit, but by day three was kinda “whoa there, tiger.” Thus ended that experiment.

Next, I threw myself into working out at the gym. At first I was terrified that I might sport some wood seeing naked guys in the showers, but I had to test myself. Things kinda went okay, I guess… I about wore myself out on endless, repeated reps to the point that my muscles howled in protest. As it turned out, I wasn’t really drawn to the naked bodies showering around me… which was a bit of a relief. Not exactly. But I guess I did… notice... their bodies more. In particular, I was aware of just how many guys seemed to be making themselves... smooth. I get it, it makes your definition stand out more. But it seemed so… artificial. And not nearly as masculine as Jeremy’s….

Nope. Not bringing Jeremy into this. More reps. Harder.

And over the next few weeks, I became incredibly deferential towards my wife. Quietly trying to make up for a betrayal she knew nothing about. God, I was probably crossing over into obsequiousness. I boldly took over cooking duties during the weekdays, and did nearly all the cleanup, too. I pitched in for all kinds of quality time together. I suggested we watch a Jane Austen miniseries. Insisted on doing errands for her the minute she casually mentioned them. Hell, my whole language started shifting, like I was her knight-in-shining-armor-bodyguard protecting her from the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.” Jesus. She seemed appreciative; but as I think about it, after a couple of weeks she must have started wondering if she had secretly been diagnosed with cancer or something.

Mostly, I was just trying to stay busy—physically and mentally—in an attempt to completely block any thought of Jeremy. I was convinced that that was healthier, and safer. With time, it seemed to work. My overall freakout kinda started to subside a bit. Days turned into weeks.

But it was all… so stupid. I mean, holy hell—I was fooling myself. And I knew it. My body knew it. My innermost mind knew it.

And it was only a matter of time before things started bubbling up in unexpected ways. After a few weeks, I found myself getting more… I dunno, irritable. Frustrated over the stupidest things. Frustrated…? Yeah, frustrated. At… stuff. All kinds of stuff. At work. At home. Unwinding. Working out. Living.

At the same time, I remember having… well, I wouldn’t call them nightmares, but just... really intense, really frustrating dreams. And they included Jeremy. The person I wasn’t letting myself think about.

And that had ballooned into a huge, awkward, silent mess. I just couldn’t bring myself to respond to his last message, that stupid “hey man” message that had greeted me when I got home from his place. Nothing. Pure radio silence. It was easier that way; I couldn’t think what to say. And I was more than a little afraid of what he might say. It started with me being paralyzed about thinking what to say to him. Thinking about how I explain my actions… how to justify my actions. But the longer I ran away from my thoughts, the easier it was to keep running. And soon, the paralyzed silence took on a life of its own, having stretched on so long that now I needed not only to apologize for my actions, but for not saying anything to him.

Shit.

My wife had certainly noticed my Jekyll-and-Hide approach to her—insisting on spending time together, but getting testy about it. Then one evening she asked the innocuous question, “Hey honey, why don’t you ever get together with Jeremy anymore? It's been a couple months at least. You always came back energized whenever you hung out. It was fun watching you guys together. And you’ve been in a funk like the past month. Maybe you should blow off some steam together.”

Oh… God forsaken holy fuck.

She could not have thrown a bigger bomb into my life.

But her words...? I think at that point I think it hit me—all these past few weeks, I absolutely wasn’t being… me. I wasn’t being fair to myself. And in doing so, I was not being fair—could not be fair—to anyone else around me.

But what could I say? What should I say?

I punted. “Oh, well… I think I told you he started seeing this new girl Stacey? Yeah, well… that’s been taking up more and more of his time. You know how guys are when they fall for someone. I don’t want to bother him. I mean, he doesn’t want to spend time with a big, hulking goober like me when he can have uninterrupted quality time with a petite little cutie with a nice rack.”

She snapped me with the dishtowel. “Don’t talk about women like they’re slabs of meat—especially your best friend’s girlfriend. And anyway, why are guys always so stunted? You’re allowed to want to have friends and spend time with them. Just call him already." She gave me an epic eye roll before ending in a huff. "Honestly… men.” 

“But… men don’t… call each other….” I started to whine.

“MEN.”

I disengaged, and went into the next room to sulk with a beer and some video games.

Her words were a double-edged sword. I mean, in the abstract, she was 100% right. Well, we both were. I mean, guys don’t call each other, but we’re idiots for not doing so. How many other male friendships of mine had cooled because we were too… well, cool… to keep up with each other?

But… this thing with Jeremy and I was obviously a completely different situation. I mean, we did stuff. Stuff that guys don’t do together. He had been… inside me. And the reverse. Guys don’t do that. Guys with women on their arms really don’t do that. That broke the guy code. A truth so universal and terrible that I had been running away from it like a maniac.

But then again… shit. It wasn’t all that different at all. Sex aside, I missed my friend.

I missed my friend.

And that single, stupid thought broke through a mountain’s worth of bullshit.

That night, and all the next day, Jeremy seeped back into my thoughts. And I let it happen. Memories buoyed me. It was all so… complicated. Memories. Bike rides and conversations. Beers and trash talking. Adrenaline and sweat. And… well, adrenaline and… sweat.

And they had been some of the best times of my life.

The thoughts swirled around inside me. Until finally I had enough.

The next day, I stopped by his bike shop on my way home from work.

I walked in and was immediately greeted by Hector, one of the guys who helped Jeremy move in. “Hey man!” he said. He ran over and gave me an appropriate bro-greeting.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Good man, you?”

We exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes until I mentioned I was driving by and wanted to check in with Jeremy. Hector pointed him out, saying he had been helping a father-son couple but it looked like things were wrapping up.

I looked over. Yeah… there he was.

Damn.

He was….

Damn. 

He… he had this magnetism that sucked you in, like he was a carnival barker. He was squatted down, eye-to-eye with the kid and filling his mind with ideas of freedom, adventures. The dad was grinning like a fool, all but lost in his own memories of bike rides past. Sharing a moment with his son as Jeremy got them riled up.

It’s so funny that my first impression of Jeremy was that he was the stoic, strong-and-silent type. And yes, he was always on the quiet side. But you put him in a situation where he was comfortable, with a chance to talk about something he was passionate about, and he just came alive. Energy. Power. Life. We were all feeling it. He made that kid feel like he was king of the world, buying some Lamborghini. The boy was eating it up, in full hero-worship mode.

And to be honest, I wasn’t too far behind.

It was only when everything was finished did Jeremy slow down and come back to reality… and see me.

The change was abrupt. Jeremy’s stoic visage slammed down. His defenses were back up. Wary… just like he was around his family. Around his dad. And seeing that change in him, knowing I triggered it, hit me like a punch to the gut.

“Hey man,” was all I could muster up.

“Hey,” he responded neutrally.

And I suddenly realized just how badly I needed back my buddy, in all his vital, energetic glory.

I approached him. “Jeremy. Bud. Look, I’m… I’m sorry.” I was in full babble mode. “I’m… I’m fucking sorry about all the bullshit. I should’ve gotten back to you right away when I got your message. I’m stupid. Fucking stupid.” At this point it hit me that we were in public; looking around, I lowered my voice to a hissed whisper and went on. “Sorry man. I’m sorry. I should’ve reached out to you before. But I’m… doing it now.”

Jeremy just stood there, taking in my gush of words with an indistinct expression on his face that had me in a panic. Silent. Looking me over. I wasn’t sure how I could hyperventilate while not breathing, but somehow I was managing it.

Finally, a wry half-smile flickered across his face. “You know,” he intoned with zero expression whatsoever, “It takes a special kind of idiot to not just hit ’reply’ instead of coming all the way over here in person.”

I unclenched. I mean, yes, he just burned me… but his burn was surprisingly mild, generic, and tossed off with a mere pro forma delivery. It was the kind of dig that guys tossed between buddies as part of daily operations. I smiled, starting to think we could be okay.

“I never claimed to be the brightest lightbulb in the marquee.” Jeremy full on smirked.

I looked around to be sure no one was close by. “Seriously, Jeremy. I’m sorry. I fucked up. I didn’t mean to blow you off, but… well, I was going to talk to you, chickened out a bunch of times, then panicked because I waited too long. Truth is… there was so much to say, but didn’t even know where to start.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy said wistfully, also looking around. The hard, implacable mask started to dissolve as he went on. “I get it. Truth is, I could’ve tried to get back to you, too… but it was hard. And… complicated.”

We stood in silence for a moment. It wasn’t… comfortable… but it didn’t feel oppressive.

Jeremy quietly asked, “So… why here…? Why… now…?”

I looked down. “I finally couldn’t live with myself any more, being a jackass. Leaving things hanging. And…” my words were hushed, almost as if they were afraid to leave my mouth. “And… I… um… missed you. Missed… my bud. You know….”

Jeremy gave his half-smile and looked down too. One foot shuffled. He nodded. “Yeah.”

Another pause. This one was a little more… full. As if we had too much to say to each other. Because… we did.

“Hey man,” I broke the silence. “Could we… like… go somewhere? Else? Maybe grab a beer and… you know, talk? Maybe after work?”

Jeremy considered, but I could see the answer in his head. “I wish I could… I’m going out with Stacey tonight. We’ve been… serious… the last month or so.” His inflection spoke volumes, and deflated me a bit.

“Ah. Got it. Yeah. Well… maybe another time.” Another pause.

“Hey, you know… the weather is supposed to be great this weekend. You wanna go for a ride? Maybe take the Green Line to Lake Keller?”

“Yeah. Just the guys, like old times?”

Jeremy smirked. “Like old times, but looking at you, you’re gonna need to train hardcore to keep up with me. Wuss.”

“Jackass.”

“Cunt spray.”

“Eh, go take a flying fuck at a rolling donut.”

Yeah… I think we were going to be okay.

The weekend came, and the ride itself was great… a much-needed tonic for the soul. The Green Line was an abandoned railroad track that had been repurposed into a bike trail. You could take it for… well, hundreds of miles, really. We just had a tradition of biking out to Lake Keller, one of the stops a goodly ride away.

And so we rode. It’s funny. Male conversation goes best when it's lubricated with action. Doing something, from playing cards, to working on a car just makes it better. Easier. And repeated action best of all. Physical activity can become its own mantra, clearing the mind.

And so it was that day. Over that morning, Jeremy… talked again. We didn’t have the talk, that was still way too dangerous, awkward, and very much off limits. When conversation even gently veered in that general direction, things got dangerously quiet and we shut it down fast. But we caught up with each other and fell back into the spirit of our friendship. Excited to have each other back. It was funny… I didn’t realize guys… well, missed their buddies. But I had.

But of course… Jeremy was… more… than a buddy.

But we just couldn't go there. 

Even as we instinctively avoided the topic, it was still very much an elephant in the room as we renewed our friendship. Over the next few weeks, we got together a couple of times, never at one of our places. I accepted that’s kinda how it had to be, but hoped that things would change.

Change.

But change into… what?

We both had worked to recommit to the women in our lives, and I have to say things were going well on that front. But for all that, Jeremy—maybe more specifically, the memories with Jeremy—continued to bubble up in my mind. Unbidden, and in odd ways. Like, springing from bits of music playing somewhere, or a guy with a similar laugh. I could usually shake them off. I had to, as I didn’t want to disrupt our hard-fought equilibrium. No use dwelling on what could never be.

After a time, our experience seemed to fade into a dream… I wasn’t sure myself what had really gone down.

I was pleasantly surprised one day to get an invitation from him to watch the Monday night game at his place. He remarked, “I have some serious money riding on this, so… no distractions.” He said it playfully, but I got the message.

Come Monday, I ran over to his place as soon as I could. And boy howdy, I was ready to cut loose. Work had been tough, and my wife thought any kind of “sportsball” was just plain silly, making it hard for me to fully wallow in it. I needed a break. I needed man time.

Jeremy picked up a shit-ton of Chinese food on the way home from his work, so we essentially got to his place at the same time. He unlocked the door and kicked it open, balancing a hundred different food containers in two armfuls of bags. He walked in and set everything on the bar-counter that served as his kitchen table, and separated the kitchen from the rest of his studio apartment.

I took his place in.

It had changed a lot since I had been there last, on his memorable move-in. Clearly his girl Stacey had helped decorate, but it was just as clearly a man’s bachelor pad. Big ol’ athletic shoes kicked off right inside the door, along with a indistinct shape of a bag holding his gear. His free weights in the corner. A ball ready to grab. Beer bottles in the window sill. Even an obligatory neon sign.

But what hit me the most walking in was… the scent. And I mean that in a good way. There wasn’t a rancid stink to the place, just the unmistakable smell of… male. Complex, and made of all kinds of typical masculine sources, trapped in that apartment with so little air. The hanging scent of sandalwood. Black coffee and bourbon. A half-used bag of charcoal in the corner. His gear from the gym, with traces of sweat. The “sports” deodorant he used. Bike chain oil.

And… Jeremy.

The smell of Jeremy, deep and everywhere. Like a wolf’s den, but for a human. Layers upon layers of smells in the air, holdovers from when he worked out, jerked off, ate, slept, and dreamed about… whatever he dreamed about. Raw, undiluted masculinity.

The scent was instantly unlocking memories. Memories that I had worked hard to put away. Memories of his sweat, mixed with mine. His cum… mixed with mine. Him. Jeremy. Close. Closer than close. Next to me. Inside me. Oh fuck. My pulse started racing.

Jeremy was oblivious. He set everything down on the counter and walked over to his dresser, fishing out something casual to change into. Saying something that I wasn’t even remotely paying attention to. While talking, he just started flipping his shirt off over his head... then suddenly stopped. He looked at me with a somewhat queasy look.

Ah. Oh yeah. See, something I knew about Jeremy, which I had never really thought about much before, was the fact that when he got home and was ready to unwind, he usually changed into a T-shirt and some gym shorts—going commando underneath. It had never been an issue, but it hit me that here in his studio apartment with no real side rooms, he was going to have to strip down right in full view of me.

And I realized that elephant in the room was very much alive and well.

Jeremy flinched, nervous about stripping naked and what kind of message that was going to send.

I don’t know that he was wrong to be worried… my body was responding in ways I could not control, despite my vow for no “funny stuff.” I was desperately trying to keep myself from tenting my pants, trying to think of anything to distract me.

Damn. Double damn.

Every part of my body was….

No. NO.

I casually turned away, and as lightly as I could manage, asked him, “Hey man, where’s the john? It’s been a long day.” The energy roiling my innards dissipated slightly, as I shut myself inside and gave him the privacy he clearly needed. Fuck. He looked so fucking good. Shit. C’mon Trevor, think of something, anything to break the spell, like… kittens. Babies spitting up. My mom’s sex face. Hell, my grandma’s sex face. FUCK. This was going to be a long night.

A few minutes later I heard Jeremy just as cheerfully announce that he was going to set out the food. I flushed the toilet for a bit of cover. I walked out gingerly, readjusting myself and doublechecking to see if he was around. Mercifully, he was in the kitchen, the one part of the apartment where he was essentially hidden. He was chattering away about something. I wasn’t listening.

Walking around his bed, I came up short. There was that staple of male home furnishing—a pile of dirty laundry sitting right out in the open. But looking at it, my heart fell into my feet. His dirty clothes pile. His. And right there on top, the outfit he had just been wearing, that he had just changed out of. Shit. Shitshitshitshit.

I looked over, and still couldn’t see Jeremy. There were sounds of dishes being set out. I looked down again… shit SHIT. It was right there. His pair of boxer briefs. Right there. Oh FUUUUUUUUCK. My heart was pounding, fucking POUNDING. Shit. I couldn’t… that was… SHIT. Oh fuck NO Trevor. NO!

Yes.

My hands were trembling. It was all so wrong. Totally wrong. Shit, I was probably violating my best bud. But at that moment, I fucking did not care. I grabbed his Jockeys. Fuck. Still warm. With a last look over towards the kitchen, I brought them to my face.

And fucking drowned in his scent.

Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Each breath shot right through me. His musk, his musky balls, trapped all day at work. Active work. Sweat. Oh fuck. Memories violently axing through me. His hairy balls. Rolling in my mouth, my nose pressed in his bush. Sex. Man. The essence of masculinity. Memories. Swallowing him down. Jeremy’s grunts. The salty taste. Fuck. His dick pulsing in my mouth. Oh fuck.

Fast. I had to be fast. I moved the light fabric, trying to get all his smells in. Fuck. Oh fucking god. I had no plans of what was next. Just raw need so bad… Oh fuck FUCK. There! That darker funk. Jeremy’s ass. Fuck. Raw. Primal male. Fucking real. My dick so hard it was about to rip through my fly. My heartbeat pounding in my ears… strange, since all my blood had rushed to my dick. Oh God, the fucking smell of….

Oh holy shit. My eyes fluttered open to see Jeremy himself. Standing there. Watching me. Jaw open.

Oh God, fucking kill me now. There was no way to disguise this. No way to hide this. I had fucking shredded my friendship, so carefully rebuilt. I wanted to fucking die, looking at him, knowing I had….

Jeremy hadn’t moved. He just stood there. Taking in the scene before him. The gears of his mind working furiously. Neither of us moved. No air, no sound, no motion. The world had collapsed into a ball of dark.

And then.

I barely made out his voice, twisted with need. Thickened. Choked into near-incomprehensibility by a flood of testosterone and adrenaline.

“The smell’s stronger at the source.”

Oh Fuck.

I will never quite remember the exact chain of action about what happened next. But in short, I crossed the distance between us and wrenched down his gym shorts. His steel-hard dick sprung free so hard and fast that it slapped against his hairy midriff.

And I fucking buried my face into his hairy crotch so hard I about bowled him over. He fucking gasped out a barking cry.

Fuck. FUCK. I was fucking floored. God the taste… the smell of him. He smelled like man. He smelled like sex. I swept my face around and around his balls, sucking them as I went, trying to scent myself… I wanted to be breathing his musk all night. I mouthed his hairy balls, tickling them with my tongue. The right mix of pressure and suction. Then I started a long, obscene lick up the entire length of his shaft. Long, languid, hungry. Tickling his piss slit. Lapping at the precum seeping out. Swirling around, around the edge of his cock head…

Then I fucking inhaled him. Swallowing his dick as deep as I could go.

Damn, too much too fast… I ended up gagging myself. But I didn’t fucking care. I grabbed his ass in both hands and roughly started mouth fucking him, nearly bringing him to his knees. I went deep, again and again, sucking hard the whole time, trying desperately to take him all.

Jeremy had been making a weird series of sounds, but as I picked up the pace he started letting out a low undulating growl, thick with need. His hands grabbed my head, digging in… but not to guide me or force me, just out of a need for connection. Intense need. Intense hunger.

I went back to his balls, sucking them hard. Loving the feel of them in my mouth. God that musk! Jacking his cock as I worked him. Him snarling out barbaric grunts in time with my movements. My mouth slid lower, lower… the tip of my tongue dancing behind his balls. His sounds becoming more urgent.

Lower. Lower. Hoping. My memory burning….

There.

That darker scent. The funk of his man-ass. Rich and raw. Oh FUUUCK.

I don’t know what came over me. I savagely grabbed his torso and spun him around hard. So hard I sent him barreling into the wall. His hands flew up and he caught himself, panting, looking for all the world like he had just been arrested and was about to be frisked. I didn’t give a damn. I hoisted his shorts down with a violent tug, leaving his hairy ass exposed.

Exposed to me.

And I fucking slammed my face into his hairy crack.

Jeremy howled.

His scent engulfed me. Making me come alive. Making my blood boil. The raw sex smell of man-ass. I swept my face up and down, my dick hard enough to cut diamonds. His funk. The most private part of a man. All man. I swept down again and dove mouth-first against his hairy hole, sucking as hard as I could. My tongue dancing around the pucker, torturing it.

Jeremy screamed out words I couldn’t understand. Maybe they weren’t even in English.

My hands pulling at his butt cheeks, ripping him apart and pulling his hole open, giving me more access. My tongue spearing him, driving inside him like a railroad spike. I fucking made out with him like a man possessed. Swinging my face wildly side to side. Lapping him like a dog. Completely lost. Savage in my hunger.

Jeremy was leaning in, biting down his forearm while slapping wildly at the wall with his other. Bucking against my face. As lost in the moment as I was.

At one point, he abruptly turned around to face me. His face was flush, his eyes burned with fire. “My turn,” he growled.

There was no argument. He grabbed onto me and hoisted me to my feet. I tried to unbuckle my belt—a task made all the more difficult because Jeremy was simultaneously trying to just pull my pants down. I swatted his hands away, and he instead whipped off his T-shirt, leaving him bare-ass naked. Once I got my fly open, he jerked my pants down to my thighs, and pushed me back so I was sitting bare-assed on his couch. He fully hoisted my pants off my legs, got between them….

…and then he fucking sucked me.

I threw my head back and let out a terrifying yell. Oh God… it was so…. GOOD. His mouth slammed up and down my dick, sucking like his life depended on it. Tight and wet. OH GOD. Sending shivers up and down my spine. Sucking harder—better—than any woman ever had. Than any woman ever could. All over. Working my cockhead, then diving down my shaft. Pulling up again, and mouth fucking me. His spit running down my shaft and into my bush. He pulled back and made long, heavy licks the length of my shaft, then nuzzling my balls. He was jerking my dick with his rough hands while taking my balls into his mouth one at a time. Running his tongue across the sensitive skin, only stopping to spit out some wayward hairs. Then he reversed, so he was swallowing my dick while massaging my balls. Rolling his tongue in circles around the rim while he mouth-fucked me.

Holy SHIT.

THIS is what a blowjob was supposed to be. The thing is, Jeremy not only knew what a man needed, he was fucking into it. Loving the feel of my cock in his mouth, loving the intimacy—the primal intimacy that only two men could share. I was stunned. I mean, he was into this as much as I was. I pulled off my own shirt so I was naked as he was, living for this moment.

Then, Jeremy pulled back and gave a terrifying leer. It was the most male-centered look he could possibly give me. My heartbeat, already racing, went doubletime. He reached up, grabbed my hips and pulled my whole body forward. Jesus. I’m a big guy, and he threw me around like I was nothing. He then cantilevered my hips, driving my knees towards my chest. Exposing my hairy ass for the word to see.

And with a “Fuck, yeah!” he rammed his face into my crack.

I made an unnatural sound somewhere between a gasp and a yelp. OH HOLY FUCK! Was he going to…?

Awwww GAAAAAAWWWWWD!

Holyfuckholyfuckholyfuck!

His mouth latched onto my hairy hole and he fucking started EATING me!

Holyfuckholyfuckholyfuck!

Is that what it felt like to him when I was eating his ass? Oh my God! I mean, yes, him fucking my ass blew my mind! But I had no idea how much obscene, raw pleasure I’d feel as his tongue attacked me. Nerve endings I never knew I had flashed to life, sending waves or carnal electricity across my body. I was flailing against him, desperate for more. His tongue repeatedly violated my hole, going in deep as I wailed my pleasure to the ceiling. Sucking my hole. Making out with it. Digging deep. Matting my ass-hair with his spit. Bringing my body fully to life. I was wailing, making an inhuman sound like a race car flaying by, squealing out of control. I tried ripping my ass open with my hands. Shamelessly begging—begging like a cheap whore!—for more. My mind spinning, spinning out of control, spinning….

Goddamn. His mouth had awoken something primal inside me that could not be contained. I realized my howls had coalesced into real words: “FUCK me! I need you inside me! FUCK ME!!”

Jeremy’s head popped up, his beard slick with spit and sweaty ass. The look he gave me was ferocious. “You serious?” he panted out.

“Get up here you fucker!” I reached down and grabbed him between my legs, forcing him up. It was awkward, but I violently threw him across the couch, so his body laying splayed the length of it with his shoulders propped up against the armrest. I viciously spat up some lube, and smeared it across his dick. It was so hard, it twitched in my hands as I did so. I clambered up on top of him, squatting over his crotch. He was looking at me with desperate pleading, needing this as much as I did.

I lined him up with my hole… and I fucking rammed him inside me.

The paired bellows, ringing out. A tomcat duet. Damn, that fucking stung; he was fucking huge. My hole spasmed wildly, trying to adjust to the intruder. I rocked myself up and down. I know I needed to relax, but I needed that feeling his dick gave me. Needed that adrenaline rush. That raw sensation only a man could give. Rocking, rocking….

Fuck it, I needed to FUCK. I drove down. Jeremy’s eyes about rolled back in his head as he let out a guttural snarl. “DUDE YOU ARE SO FUCKING TIGHT!” He grabbed my hips, desperate for more. Needing more.

Then GOD FUCKING DAMN he hit my spot. The pain was still there, but it was completely washed away by fucking FIRE that erupted across my entire body. The hair on my arms and back of my neck stood up straight. “UnnnGAHHHHHHHHHHH!” My throat burned as I howled out my pleasure.

I impaled myself on his rock-hard cock. My hips spinning slowly, while I bucked forward and back. Oh GOD I could feel, fucking feel his cockhead drive through my ass muscles, sending sparks inside me as it went. Jeremy was completely lost in the moment, his motions matching mine, desperate for the feel of penetration, the white-hot pressure of my ass as I bit down on his cock. We were moving as one, in a vulgar dance. I hit rock bottom. My hairy hole pressed against his hairy balls. Rocking. Swaying. Fucking.

Every fucking twitch of his cock made my body sing, from the inside out. It was like lava was sloshing inside me, hotter than fuck. Sloshing. Fireworks were going off inside my head, but they didn’t burn out… they just kept exploding, joining newer fireworks and newer ones. Oh! Sweet! Jesus! Baby! It was like I was coming, but never shooting. Just coming, and coming. My body gyrating as I fucked him, getting his dick into every corner of me. Rocking. His hands gliding over my skin, setting it on fire. Rocking. Fucking.

Finally, Jeremy broke, frustrated by the slow-motion movements. He was a man, and he needed to FUCK. From below, he started to hammer his dick into me. HARD. The sharp motions sent a jab of electricity up my spine. He did it again, and I switched motion to match, slamming my ass down onto him. He thrust up a few more times, and then just started bucking rapid-fire into me. Raw FUCKING me. The speed took my breath away, as my body… fucking blossomed. It was like nothing else I’ve ever felt in my life. Like my mind was shattering into kaleidoscope firebombs. Oh GAAAWWWWDDDD!

My mind was gone. Without thought, I arched my back backwards, throwing my arms back to keep from falling. BAMBAMBAMBAMBAM. Jeremy fucking into me fast as a drum roll. BAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAM. Bent backwards, my dick pointing to the ceiling. BAMBAMBAMBAM. Barely holding it together. BAMBAMBAM. Sweat running down my face. BAMBAM.

And his dick awoke something deep inside me. More raw, more terrible, more ravenous than anything I’d felt in my life. My whole body coming together for this one thing… this one desperate thing. I screamed….

And I exploded. Ropes of thick hot cum erupted from my dick, arcing through the air and splashing heavily across Jeremy’s hairy chest. Again and again.

I kept screaming. My whole body roiling with electricity. My vision blurred.

Minutes seemed to last for hours, but my body started shutting back down. And for a second, a foolish second, I thought that was going to be it… I mean, it’s not guys’ best selling point, but we do tend to think that when we shoot, sex is over.

Jeremy had very other ideas.

I was kinda in a delirious haze, but realized Jeremy had thrown me back, with my shoulders against the couch’s far armrest, mirroring his own position. But in his haste, he hadn’t lined me up and I was tilted towards my side. This meant that when came in underneath me to slide his cock back into me, my left leg shot up his body, with my foot thrown over his shoulder. Jeremy didn’t give a fuck; he slammed us together and violently skewered me with his cock. He hooked his arm around my extended leg, hugging it to his chest to gain leverage, and started piledriving me.

“Oh GOD! OHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

NGHUH!

NGHUH!

NGHUH!

Deep, violent thrusts. Slow and deliberate. Balls-deep hammer strokes that made my whole body shudder from the impact.

My body hadn’t come down from blowing my load. My nerves were, if anything, sharper and more sensitive than before. The fire inside me blazed to new life as his dick slammed into me again… and again and again. Oh God. I was sweating like a whore in church, my mind unable to take in everything at once. I was screaming in need. Screaming inside and out. His dick, POUNDING. Fireworks inside my brain blasting out every other thought. HIS DICK.

Then he shifted his motion. Rapid-fire. Friction hot enough to set my hairy hole on fire. No time to think, no time to adjust. Slamming. Each thrust setting of explosions inside me. Slamming. Our undulating moans making my chest vibrate.

Then something… wild.

Jeremy reached down as he drilled me. His meaty hand was roughly massaging my hairy chest; all friction wiped away since I was now drenched with sweat. For some reason, that sensation, his skin on mine, completely undid me. I threw my head back, my arms over my head… completely, wholly open and exposed, like I had never been in my life. Entirely at his mercy. 

But through the hormonal fire blasting out my vision, I saw something. Something… astonishing.

Jeremy was… intently taking in the moment. Even as he was drilling me, he was looking at me… in wonder. All his senses afire. His eyes, sweeping across me, watching me. Responding to me. Enthralled by my reactions. Reacting to me.

And an amazing, terrifying thought filled me. A realization. I was so locked into my own reactions, my own body, that I hadn’t realized how much of what was happening wasn’t a me moment, it was a we moment. Jeremy. Jeremy was doing this. Jeremy was setting my body on fire. As open and exposed as I was, he wasn’t trying to dominate me, make me his bitch or whatever… he was just… in this moment with me. It wasn’t him fucking me, we were fucking together. There was this… glorious… connection between us. A connection that maybe only two men could share. He wanted to drive me wild, and was fucking turned on watching my body respond to him. Reveling at the intensity, the rawness… and that bond.

My body was already on fire. But in that moment, I think my heart started burning, too. Oh God, I…. Fire made brighter with each thrust inside me…. It was….

But suddenly, he increased his pace and all conscious thought was blasted away. There was only his dick, slamming into me. That friction. Turning my insides into fire. Making me feel alive. The whole universe in his fucking dick as….

Then I saw the change. The thrusts still going in hard, but going wild. His face flush, red as fire. His eyes rolling back. Oh God… a man—MAN—was going to… shoot… inside me. Sharing a forbidden moment, more personal, more private….

“Ungh! Ungh! UNGH! OH! AUUUUGHHHNAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

Holy shit… I could feel his cock inside me blasting out his cum. Recoiling from the power of it. And somehow, that set me off. The fire inside me roared again to life. Sound roared in my ears and I started seeing stars, which all exploded and the world when white. Even though I had just blasted out a load minutes before, I erupted again, splashing my sweaty abs with man juice.

Oh God, I had such a feeling of… utter euphoria. An adrenaline rush better than anything I had felt in my life, my body dancing with light.

I looked up, and as my vision cleared I could see Jeremy. Really see him. See his incredibly powerful, masculine form. His hair, his muscles, his sweat… more raw, more real than anything I’d ever experienced.

His eyes. Oh God the look in his eyes.

And in a flash his body was pressed against me, kissing me. Hard. Hard like a man. Raw and as aggressive as he was.

And I was right there with him.

It was the most savage kiss of my entire life.