The bed is warm; heated up from the spooning of our bodies and from the foreplay, the coolness that was once there from the sheets is gone.
Our weekly Friday night trysts at my apartment are now commonplace, the hiding of our intimacy and my accepting of it, the world would not understand.
He is known to be straight, as am I, but I am not.
I love cock.
I look forward to these nights, when we can share this part of ourselves with each other. I think he does too.
I can feel the muscles in his leg as my hand lazily rests on it. There is such power, such masculine unbridled strength in it. The hair is soft on his leg; it tickles my fingers ever so gently as I brush my hand across it as I travel up his body.
I can feel him.
My touch has excited him.
He is hardening, I can feel the wetness of his cock as it releases the essence of himself onto my lower back.
My body longs for that wetness that I feel.
He moves me ever so slightly, positioning me, reddening me for him.
I can feel him more now, he is stronger and harder, I know what is approaching.
"I am leaking pre-cum," he says.
"Yes, I know, "I say, "I want it."
He did not have to tell me.
As he slides his manhood into me, I tense, then relax.
I am filed.
I let out a soft sigh, a muffled gasp.
He is swelled, engorged, and hard, all those adjectives that describe a man's erection when it is at its fullest and it is inside me, that manly power which is shared between every man and are happy to have.
He is gentle, taking his time, letting all of himself enter me. The inches of his manhood enter me slowly as my inner muscles enclose him in a tight vice.
My ass envelops his nine inches of masculine-perfection. I take him willingly again.
He gasps, quietly.
"Nice," he whispers in my ear. He felt that but I knew he would.
I can feel the fullness of his cock, of his-self inside me.
I am filled, happily, and we are one.
He eases himself in and out, a steady determined rhythm, keeping time with some unheard music that must be playing in his head.
"Your ass is tight," he says, "and damn does it feel good."
"You were the last one to fuck me," I say, "You have been the only one to fuck me for a while."
"Good," he answers, "I want to be the only one that fucks you from now on."
I do not know if that will be possible, I tell myself. I love cock and welcome any guy that I find attractive into my ass for his pleasure and mine.
I am enraptured with his skill. His slow methodical wonderful skills.
He kisses me on my neck. Tender passionate kisses, he tastes me as I perspire from this sexual workout.
My body temperature is rising with each thrust of him in me.
I can feel the manhood of him as I flex the muscles of my inner chamber, he lets out a sigh, again, he likes it.
I gently squeeze his muscle more, he sighs grow heavier now.
He bites on my ear, just a nibble, so I work my inner strength some more.
Our bodies are mixing, melting into one.
"That feels good," he says.
"I thought you'd like it," I say, as I squeeze my ass walls again.
He eases out, still gentle. I catch myself letting out a moan, I want him back in and when he departs, I want my body to pull him back.
His chest is against my back, the chest hair, which the man has been so richly blessed with on his body feels wonderful, it excites me as he brushes against me. We are as close as we can possibly be without being swallowed up by each other and disappearing.
I fondle my hard cock, I am leaking cum too, as he hits that special spot just when I need it.
I let out a 'yelp' as the pleasure is so intense and wonderful.
I can feel the two-day stubble on his face; he is scruffy which I like.
"Why did I wait so long to fuck you," he asks me.
I pause not wanting to answer.
Does he even want an answer?
"I wanted you to fuck me too, "I say, "but I was not sure you ever would."
He eases his cock back into me, over and over; I can feel the leaking pre-cum as it empties from his sperm filled balls into my ass. I wait for the full release of his man-juice into my clenching hole. I want all of him.
"That morning when you saw me and Bob fucking, I was scared," I tell him.
"Why?" he ask.
"You know how the guys are at work, when they talk about queers, call them fags and such, "I say, "this is the south, men are gay but are afraid to show it because of what may happen if their neighbors knew."
"Have you ever heard me, say anything like that," he asks.
"No," I answer.
He has said much but I say nothing and wonder were the slurs because of his own unmet man-to-man sex desires or of a scared man afraid to stand-alone among his peers and do, what he knows he wants.
I know he worries about this too, it is why he hides but he does not make the connection, as he has lied to himself as to why he fucks me.
He rams his hard cock into me again, this time with more force and power with his thrust.
I like it.
"I like to be fucked rough," I say.
"I know," he says, "but I like it to be gentle sometimes. I like to have a slow steady fuck and let that fucking go on for hours."
"Me too," I say.
We have been fucking for nearly two hours now.
Where has the time gone?
He rams his cock back into me again, while still lying on our side. He has moved my leg, higher, so my hole is open more to him. His pre-cum is the lube, he is leaking like some broken faucet. I can feel the wetness running down my leg and into the hairs of inner thigh.
"Your cock is magnificent," I say.
"I am glad you like it, you can have it whenever you want, you know that" he says, gently "You tell me that whenever I fuck you."
"It is true," I say, "I have had a lot of guys fuck me but no one has been like you. You can be a man-hungry beast, one minute, and tear my ass asunder and then you can be as you are now. Slow and gentle."
"Fucking should be enjoyable for both," he says, "not just for the guy pounding the pussy or in our case, your very tight ass."
"Yes, you are right," I say, "You are a great lover and a hell of a boss too."
"Thanks," Reece says, "and Rick you are quite a guy too. I would rather work with you than any of the other guys and fucking is great bonus."
He kisses me on the cheek and then rams my ass with his cock. He is fucking me harder.
He lifts himself up, his cock slides out of my hole.
He pushes, gently with some force but not violent, me onto my stomach and then gets on top of me.
His cock grows even harder whenever he does this.
I am stomach-down on the bed; I can feel the hairiness of his chest as we shift our position. The hirsute chest is the part of him that first attracted me, when I worked that first day. When he took his shirt off the minute, we got to the job.
I was in lust.
I had to hide my hard cock; I did not want him to figure out that he was the reason for my woody.
From that first day on the job, I lusted after him, wanted him.
I could not tell him.
I could not tell anyone that I was gay and wanted cock. The other guys on the job would castrate me, literally and figuratively.
A gay blue-collar guy scares straight guys, if they know. I know this.
I had my cover story, every gay guy who does any type of work with straight guys has to cover up the hardness of their cocks when they get in the company of such men and the cock arises. I had mine too.
Reece and I had seen each other naked on the job when we shared hotel rooms.
I had seen him naked and hard as he had seen me too. It happened in the way most guys see other guys naked.
I kept my attraction to myself. I worked beside Reece and admired him and when I was home, I would jack-off to the countless fantasies I had imagined of him.
When I was so turned on, horned up, when we would stay together in our hotel rooms, I would jack-off and eat all my cum to hide the fact that I had even stroked off to the sight of him.
It was difficult to room with him but also a guilty pleasure too.
He slept naked, as did I.
There were many nights I would sit and watch him sleep.
He would uncover himself from the sheets, in his asleep, when he got hot, as he dreamt, I would be watching and anticipating a rise in his cock when this happened.
His cock would be resting lazily on his leg, I would stare and wish it would grow, and it did, sometimes.
It would slowly come to life, growing bigger, growing fatter as his dream got him excited and his cock had to manifest that desire in his dream to life. It would rise and beckon me with its stiffness.
What would he be dreaming?"
I wanted so much to take his cock in my mouth and taste his seed but I did not.
I dared not.
I would dream myself, fully wake, of the day, he would fuck me, often I shot my load without even touching myself when he was asleep in the double bed across from me.
I had to maintain my secret.
I was a gay man on a job, a straight job, as perceived by those in the world around me.
This all changed when we went to my friend from high school dad's house, that experience changed everything between Reece and me.
Bob guessed that Reece would fuck me, if given the right motivation. He did.
Bob and I concocted a plan, it was simple, not a well planned one but the good ones usually are not, they just happen, naturally, with a little prompting.
We both stood over that couch in the den, that morning, as he shot that load, in his sleep from what we could only surmise was a "wet" dream. We each had to contain ourselves and not take his cock into our mouths as we gawked at him. Bob had tasted his load already and I had been wanting to for the longest. I had told Bob of my lust for Reece and he wanted to make sure Reece fucked me before we left the house that morning.
Reece did, our plan was successful.
Reece rams his cock in me, with the strength of the man that he has shown himself to be.
It pulls me back from my reminiscing, to the realized fantasy that he is no longer a fantasy but a realized regular scheduled reality.
He is in the push-up position as he pounds my ass.
His cock is swelled to it maximum, whenever he fucks me like this.
He is bigger than ever.
"Your cock is huge," I tell him, in between gasps and moans, "but when you fuck me like you are working out. You are at your biggest."
"I know, "he says in a frantic pant, "When I do push-ups at the gym, I get just as hard."
I can feel his large mushroom-shaped head and the veins on his cock, as he fucks me with all his might.
He is panting, exerting all his power into his cock as he continues with his workout-fuck, which is what I call it, into my ass.
I squeeze my ass walls.
Which I know he likes.
He bellows out a scream as he unloads his cock in my ass, that last squeeze was all it took.
I can feel the wetness of the cum as it goes into me. I shoot my load into the sheets under me.
We lay still for a moment. He is still on top of me and inside me. We are caught up in the after-effects of a great two-hour fuck.
Reece rolls off me and finds his side of the bed.
I turn face up from lying on my stomach.
"That was fucking nice, Reece," I say.
"You always say that after I have pounded your ass with my cock," he says.
"Because it is," I say as I move closer to him in the bed.
I act as if we are a couple but I know we are not. I am always trying to snuggle and get close to him but I know my efforts are fruitless. He pulls back, distancing himself from me.
Reece has a girlfriend in Tallahassee; she is the same one he has had since I started working with him. I do not think he loves her though, as he has picked up many girls in the bars when we have been working out of town. He would bring them back to our room, fuck them to the early hours of the morning, and then forget about them once he had added them as another notch on his belt. It was a routine, he repeated this, over and over, I even joined in a time or two, as the girl wanted two cocks. I was only happy to oblige, as I wanted to see Reece fuck and get some of his cum. I did a time or two, as he came, he pulled his cock out of the pussy of the girl and I was sprayed with his man-juice in my face as she was giving me a blowjob.
Once he found out that he could fuck me, our visits to the bar to pick up girls ceased, we only went for the beers. He knew he could have my ass, anytime.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
My cell phone is going off.
I pick it up from the bedside table.
"Oh hi, Bob, how you doin," I answer, "Good, good, I am good."
It's Bob Warren, the man responsible for the many fucks between Reece and me, since that faithful morning at his house. I am forever grateful to the man.
"No, I am afraid I will not be able to make it, "I say, "but maybe Reece can come."
Bob is having a 'gathering' tomorrow, Saturday, at his house. He wants me to come but I cannot, I have a prior engagement. I tell Reece.
Reece fondles himself, his cum is a filmy residue covering his shrinking cock.
I smile and lick my lips. I love his cum.
I hand the phone to Reece.
"Yeah, here he is, "I say to Bob.
"Hello, "Reece answers, "Hey, man, how ya doin'?"
They talk a minute.
"So you are having one of you famous 'gatherings' tomorrow?" Reece says, "Yeah, I am free. What time. Yeah, I can be there. Yeah, yeah, I will tell him. Okay, bye."
"So you're going to his house," I asks Reece.
"Might as well, I am curious to see what happens at one of his 'gatherings,'" he says.
"Be prepared for anything, "I tell him, "You will enjoy yourself, I am sure."
"I am sure I will," he says, "I am prepared to be the man that anyone wants. He said he wants you to come to the next one."
Reece says this but his actions say another. He is like me, afraid to let the world know he longs for man-to-man sex.
"I will come to the next one, "I tell Reece, "He can count on it."
This is our secret.