Baby Blues

He hugs me. And I do so back with more force than he did with me. I did not want to let him go. I want to kiss him but standing in the crowded parking lot. In the middle of downtown on a Tuesday. I knew I couldn’t. I shouldn’t. And I wouldn’t. The hug would have to suffice. But my heart begged for more. But is his.

I stand back.

“I have to ask you. I do. How do you feel about me? Do you still feel anything for me? I love you. I do. I love you more than I ever did before. Before I left. Before I had to leave.”

My words quake as I say them. My body awash in a flood of emotion. I had to ask. I had to know. It has been several years now since last, I’d seen him. Been near him. Been close. And in his presence. Our time apart not what I had wanted. And for him too. I hope.

“I feel the same way I felt about you when the last time I’d seen you. That has not changed.” He tells me. “It hasn’t.”

I play his words over and over in my head. Dissecting them. Looking for something. And hopes of something. More.

I look into his eyes. Those sparkling baby blues. Those eyes that had first drew me unto him. Those open windows. And I liked what I saw of his soul. I still do even though the brightness seems to have dimmed in them. Somewhat.

He looks the same as had he the last I saw him except for the…

“Why did you decide to grow that goatee?” I ask.

“I just haven’t shaved. No other reason than that.”

But I wonder. I do. I admit. Our time apart has been long. Exhausting. Tiring. And at times painful for the many hours distance between us and the time. The years. Apart. Separated.

This is unlike him. He prefers to be shaved. He said. Back then. As fresh as a baby’s bottom. Smooth. I can remember my fingers brushing across his face right before I would kiss him. And feeling the smoothness there as our cheeks touched before our lips would lock into their embrace. Their moistness. And the passion. I felt that when we would be so intimate.

I remember when we first met. His eyes bring those distant memories back. The passing of the other in the riverside cruising park. His eyes seemed to shine through in their sky-like brightness among the inner darkness of the interior of his car. This is how I think of him. His eyes.

Later we would go off. In his car. He would unzip my pants. Take my cock out of my tightie-whities and coax the milky white and gooey cum from my balls. He would use his fingers on my hairy balls. Fiddling with them. Squeezing them gently and then he would get rougher and rougher. While he suctioned my cock under the pressure of his wet and warm mouth. Wiggling his agile tongue into my pee-hole. This sent vibrations through me as it lit an unseen fire within my loins. He would then swallow the potency of my cream in a wash of excitement as it travelled in a rush down his throat as he worked me over with his wonderous magic. With his skill on my hardness. I shook like a spasming earthquake ravaging the California countryside in the seat as I spewed all of me, into his mouth.

He gulped it all down. Every drop. As the swirling blue lights appeared in the darkness of the rearview mirror behind our parked car. He wiped the dripples of cum from the corner of his lips as I buttoned and fastened my pants in a hurried haste before the flashlight of the approaching cop showed its light in the inside of his darkened parked car.

The cop saw nothing. We were not arrested. Given just as warning. And we went on our merry way after the trained dog sniffed about and found nothing. We exchanged phone numbers and our tee shirts before we departed as we promised to contact the other.

We did. And we would.

He arrived at his destination. And I at mine. Hours later.

This had been more than just a hook-up. A get and go. Or whatever you want to call these sorts of things. A flash and dash. A trick. Whatever.

Out first fuck was momentous. He took me into his ass. The hotel room was already rented by him when I got there. He was splayed out on the bed. Naked. His ass full and alluring. He was waiting. Anxious. My erection throbbing like a jackhammer inside my jeans. I wanted him when we decided to meet. Our phone conversation turning into phone sex after we said, “hello.”

“I want you in my ass.” He said as I opened the door. This had built up in the weeks we had been talking.

My clothes were off in no time flat. Except for my tightie-whities.

“Let me look at you.” He said as I stood before him. My hard-on straining inside its cotton entrapment. Fighting desperately and wanting to be released.

What he saw was the mountainous ravines of my muscled chest and the darkened pasture of fur covering this worn and somewhat jagged mountain range of my body.

“C’mere.”

His fingers rake over the rolling hills of my abs. And he squeezes my cock through my underwear. With his touch I find I have grown harder. Stiffer. And a wet spot appears on the front of my Calvin’s.

“These look better in the light.” He says. As his finger once again rakes across my hard-earned abs.

He could not see them when he went down on me in the car that night. But he had brushed them with his nose.

“C’mere.” I ordered.

He rose from the bed and gives me a kiss. I could feel his cock as it brushes in his hardness against my packed briefs.

“Turn around.” I tell him as I yank him about. Forcefully. He does not fight me as I pull down the front of my briefs. Add some spit to my already throbbing erection, giving myself a few rough strokes. And a few yanks. Making sure I am at my hardest. I want to be at ‘my most’ for him.

I shove my massiveness into him. It feels glorious.

“Ohhh! Ohhh! Ohhh!” He squeals as I pierce him. This first time. And he does so many more moans as I ram him with him with my inflated seven inches.

I know he can feel my mushroom-topped cock. As it glistens bright as the skin is drawn taunt in my steely hardening.

I can feel his soft velvety smugness. He is tight. And he takes me. Inch-by-inch as I force my way deep into him. He does not resist but he pokes his ass outward wanting all I have to give.

We say nothing beside our moans. And our woeful groans. Our bodies damp from our sweat. The air conditioner not working as it should to cool down our created heat. Or the rooms.

It does not take long before I know what is about to happen.

“Give me that load.” He orders as I push him harder against the wall.

“Are you sure?” I ask. “Are you sure?”

I did not want to pull out, but I did not want to assume I could give myself ALL to him.

“Yes! Yes!” He says as I release my precious seed into his dark innermost depths.

He takes it. Spurt after spurt of my deepest of passions.

I collapse onto him. Spent. And sweaty.

He turns. And I see his baby blues. Those bright stunning baby blues of his eyes.

This was our first. But not the last of those days. It would be repeated and with more passion.

All those many years ago. In that rented room.

And I am reminded of what he said to me, earlier on that Tuesday. After our embrace.

“I feel the same way I felt about you when the last time I’d seen you. That has not changed. It hasn’t.” Is what he told me after I asked him.

I hope so.

It is all I have now. Those words. Those feelings. In my heart. And the memory of his baby blues. I will always have those baby blues.

I love eyes. I love a man’s eyes. It is the first thing I notice. And when they are blue. I am drawn in. Sucked it. Taken. And when he wears a pair of glasses. I am his. But that is another story. For another time.