Mr. Meyer Makes a Man of Me

Thank God Mr. Meyer, at least, kept his wits about him.

He used the towel around his shoulders to quick wipe my face, and the remaining spunk from the tile floor. He tossed it onto the pile of laundry, and deftly grabbed another for his waist. Mercifully, I was still fully clothed, and my fear had killed any evidence of a hardon.

Without a word, Mr. Meyer whisked me back into the office part of the locker room and stood facing me in seemingly innocent tableau just as Coach Williams came around the corner, with the team filling the locker room right behind him.

“Mike!” Mr. Meyer said, bluffly. “We were just talking about you. This here is Troy. Troy, here’s Coach Williams himself. I’ve been working with Troy on some strength training, but he was asking me for some specialized skills, too. He wants to try out for the baseball team in the spring. I think he's got a shot!”

Coach Williams gave me an approving look-over. “That so, Troy? Good plan, and this is just the guy to help you. Meyer here is the expert, and is great at putting together training schedules.”

Somehow, from somewhere, I got the gumption to answer… and answer convincingly. “Yessir!” I enthused. “I’ve learned a lot from him!” Better keep it simple… and vague.

“Sounds great! Say, I don’t know that I’ve seen you around before.”

Adrenaline carried me forward; in for a penny, in for a pound. “I’ve always loved the game, but I’ve never thought I could play with the big boys. I guess I've always been too… um, chickenshit to get off my duff and try out. Um, excuse the language, sir!”

Both the men laughed, warmly.

Coach gave me a more appraising look. “No, no... we're all men here. And I don't know what you're thinking—you’re looking good, nothing to be ashamed of, son.” My mind… raced. He thought… I looked good…? “And let me tell you a secret. Talent is great, but determination will always carry you farther. I like a man who pushes himself to get what he wants. Keep it up Troy, and absolutely go out for the team.”

“I sure will! Can’t wait for spring! But, I have to run… got my chores before dinner!”

We made our goodbyes, and I slipped away while the two men started talking.

And it was… remarkable. I made my way through the guys piling in, doing my usual dance of trying to fade into the paint. But these buff, rowdy guys treated me... like one of the guys. I even got an occasional head nod. Instantly… accepting me. Like I belonged there.

I ran, absolutely sprinted back home. Nerves and elation and fear and a half-dozen emotions churning inside me like a whirlpool. Laughing. Laughing like a crazed hyena. Did I just... lie? To a coach? Bluff my way through that, with the taste of Mr. Mayer's cum still in my mouth??

OH MY GOD DID I JUST HAVE MR. MEYER'S CUM IN MY MOUTH??

I was flying. High as a kite, my feet barely touching the ground. My biggest hero-idol? And I got to touch him? feel him? Suck his hairy dick? Share with him the biggest moment of my entire life???

And he was into it? Into me? So turned on my me that I got him to blow his load?

When I finally burst inside my room and ferociously jacked off. No time for lotion, no time for shutting the door. So fast and furious that I nearly rubbed myself raw. And even after blowing the biggest load of my life, I had more in me. Still hard as a railroad spike. I palmed my spent cum, and smeared it into my mouth, thinking of his cum. God, his CUM! I went back, still jerking myself. Replaying the scene again and again. Seeing him. Tasting him. And I surprised myself by blowing a second load almost immediately.

Ohh God. I lay there. Panting. My clothes covered in cum-splatter. Still somewhat hard. I didn't think my dick was ever going to go soft again.

But something else tripped my memory. Both these men, manly men, admiring me. Saying I looked good. The other guys. Assuming I was one of them, unquestioningly.

Could it be?

I stripped down, stood in front of my mirror, my rock-hard dick dominating the view. But there was more. Seeing my body. Stronger than I could even believe. I... I liked what I saw.

But as I stared at this unfamiliar male body before me, my mind went back to Mr. Meyer coming out of the shower. Looking like a God Among Men. And seeing Mr. Meyer reflected in... me. Seeing our bodies together, like an overlay. Seeing me become like him. Wanting nothing more than to be one with him. I jerked off again. Thinking of our bodies. Male bodies. Blasting another load all over that mirror, and the tangled images—the tangled memories—of Mr. Meyer and me. Together.

I slumped back onto my bed, God knows how long, still fondling my spent dick. Sucking on my cum-splattered fingers, and tasting that salty, nutty taste of cum. Dreaming of his. Dreaming….

And at that point, everything came to a screeching halt. I had a minute to pause… and the sheer enormity of everything that happened this afternoon broke over me.

I had stepped forward into a world men! Real men. Not my buddies playing games in their parents’ basement, but men. Sexual men. Standing tall. Among my heroes. Making choices. Thinking on my feet. And taking a seat at the table.

I actually felt… powerful.

The next day I sought out Mr. Meyer. Propelled by his ever-present life philosophy: you miss 100% of the shots you don't take.

It wasn’t our scheduled work out day, but he was easy to find. When he saw me, there was a momentary hesitation, before he gave me a sheepish half-grin.

“Troy. I wasn’t sure if I’d see you.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

His smile broadened. Becoming almost… wistful. “I guess I’ve taught you well. I just didn’t want to… assume….” There was a long pause; I could tell he was struggling for the right words, and I didn’t interrupt. “Troy, what happened yesterday was… pretty out of control. Are you… okay?”

“Psshhhh. Yeah. It was… like the best day ever!”

He nodded, looking down for a second. “I want to be careful. This is… dangerous territory we’re in now. Dangerous. I… want you to be… not just okay with things, but good with them. To know what you’re getting into.”

“I… it’s that….” I took in a deep breath, and let it out again. “Yesterday wasn’t an accident, and it wasn’t a mistake. I’ve been feeling… things… for a long time, and been feeling so… messed up. Dreaming about... you. Thinking I was dirty. Thinking I was doing you dirty. But then… Damn. Everything came together. It was perfect. And suddenly all these strange, dirty feelings I had made sense, and they didn't feel dirty any more. They felt... real. Natural. And the thought, even the possible thought that you might have them, too... my dick's been hard ever since. I need to know for sure. I need more.”

 “Troy. You’re asking for a lot. And there’s all kinds of dangers. I’m not gonna lie. This could blow up in everyone’s faces.”

“You’re the one who taught me about setting a goal, and going out there and grabbing it.”

Mr. Meyer’s posture softened, as I think he relaxed for the first time since yesterday. There was a long silence. A silence filled with potentialities. “It’s funny. When we first met, when I first agreed to work with you, you were afraid of your own shadow. Now look at you. Out of your shell. Strong. And… hot as hell.”

I blushed. Glowing.

He leaned in. “Let me tell you something. Society thinks man-sex is bad. Contrary to God and nature. But here’s the thing… there is nothing else like it. It’s amazing, beyond description. I know—I’ve been there.”

My jaw about hit the ground. “You? You do… that… with other men?”

He chortled. “Absolutely, and I’m not ashamed to tell you. For me, it started with my cousin. We were your age when we started, come to think about it. The only boy cousins in the family and we fell in together a lot. And then we started experimenting… and loving it. God, we were a pair of unholy terrors. Thing is, we’re still at it. We get together every now and again for some guy time—ski trips in the winter, golf trips in the summer. And sometimes,” he added with a wink, “we even get to ski and golf!”

I could only stare stupidly at him. In awe. Standing with the shattered wreckage of all my pre-conceived notions laying in ruins around me.

He went on, with a knowing look in his eyes. “Troy, I want you to know something. There is nothing more special, nothing more sacred than men coming together and sharing themselves. Men know each other's bodies. Men know each other's psyches. We can give each other things, give each other feelings, that no woman ever can. We can push each other in ways women never can. Provide for needs women don't know even exist. We know what we can take. Man-sex is real in ways other sex can never be. There is no bond stronger, no feeling so intense. It’s not something to take lightly. But it is the ultimate in freedom. The ultimate in intimacy. The ultimate in bonding. The ultimate in masculinity.” 

He paused. An electric tension between us. “Do you want to take the ultimate step? Feel what it feels like to be a man?”

“Yeah.” My voice was quivering, and we both knew it wasn’t from nerves.

His smile will stay with me forever. “I can't believe how lucky I am to be the one who opens you up to this. My wife is taking our daughter away on Saturday to visit her sister. Won’t be home until dinner. And I’m gonna rock your world.”

The rest of the week, I was a basket case. Completely unfocused. In a deep hormonal daze. Mr. Meyer forbid me from beating off, saying to wait and save it for Saturday. I wasn’t going to let him down.

For all that, I was… incredibly nervous. This was… it. I was going to be taking a step there was no going back from. What did this say about me? What did this mean? Was I throwing away my future? Was I inviting the Wrath of God?

But something keep echoing in my mind. His words: there is nothing more special, nothing more sacred than men coming together and sharing themselves. He was… him. He was my hero. He had seen the other side, and wanted to take me there. After everything he did for me, everything he meant to me, there was no other answer but to trust him.

And trust him I did.

It was one of those cold days, where winter disregards the calendar and refuses to let spring get its due. Mr. Meyer opened the door and let me in. He was shirtless, just wearing his sweatpants. I fretted nervously, suddenly wildly self-conscious about my clothes. Too casual? Too obvious? Damn.

For all my conviction, my hands were sweaty. Uncertain. Mr. Meyer took my jacket. He turned to hang it up and nodded me toward the living room. “Make yourself comfortable.” There was a fire in the fireplace. I sat on the floor among some pillows. Warming myself.

He came in and sat on the couch right behind me. Silently. The room was warm. I was flushed.

We didn’t say anything. He knew what a big step this was for me, and gave me space.

Well. You only live once.

I scooted back, settling between his legs. Wrapping my arm around so I could rest my hand on his beefy thigh. Slowly. Rubbing. Savoring the touch of him, the hardness of his muscles. His hand reached down and rubbed my shoulder. Not a caress, not a massage. Something deeper.

It was so… intimate. In my experience, guys always seemed to carry this… bubble around them, that other guys can never get past. Not now. I bathed in the sensation of… touch. Touch that awakened me. Opening my mind, as if I had just taken a shot of booze or a hit of weed. Touch.

Our hands started working each other. Finally letting ourselves be who we wanted to be. Exploring. It felt good. His hands, those powerful hands, drifted off my shoulders. He leaned in and started circling my chest. Strong movements. Strong under my loose T-shirt. My pulse quickened. Everywhere his fingers went, I could feel my skin shiver, then relax under his movement. Opening me. Stirring something. His hands had always made me feel secure. Steady. They still did, but were also making me feel… ooooooohhhhhhhhh.

My stomach had been tight, a ball of nerves, but the tightness was dissolving away into… something else. I finally understood what people meant when they said they had butterflies. Tingling. A warm tingling. In the pit of my stomach. Growing. Dancing everywhere.

He was everywhere. Surrounding me. Close to me. Touching me.

I turned around. His hairy chest. Right there. Oh God. I’ve thought so long about what he would feel like. What he would… taste like. Smell like. Oh God. And he wanted this, too. My hero wanted this.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against him. He breathed heavily in response.

Breath. God. Damn. His scent was strong. Washing over me. Dusky. Rich. Unlike our previous encounter, when he literally just walked out of the shower, his smell was… real. No soap now, just  man. His chest hair tickling my nose. My lips reflexively went to his skin. The feel of him. Hard. Tight with all those muscles. It wasn’t just the feel of him; I savored the taste. Uninterrupted male. I rolled my face around his skin, catching the light scrape of his hair against me. I’d never. Never experienced these… sensations. Flowing over me so unexpected.

The hardness, and softness, of a man.

Mr. Meyer leaned down, kissing me on my forehead.

And I melted.

My man, with all the toughness, the strength, the drive of a man. This raw, muscle-bound titan who embodied everything masculine in the entire universe… was tenderly kissing me. How did I ever deserve this?

I raised my face up, looking at him in awe. In overcome joy. Willing to do anything he asked. Anything.

He leaned down. And he kissed me. Lips on lips. Sealed forever.

Something awoke in me. I wrapped my arms around him and let into him. Roughly making out. Needing his masculine power. Needing him.

His hand slid down my chest. Greedy. Oh God. He was rubbing me firmly. Massaging my steel-hard cock through my jeans. Straining. It was a massive rush. My heart pounding. I could feel it in my throat.

With his other hand he hoisted up my T-shirt, dragging it over my head. I could feel the warm air against my chest. My nipples jumping to attention, as hard as my dick. Then he was back to kneading me. My cock alive in his hands, even through the denim.

I was feeling it. Fire. Fire unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Fire burning more brightly than it ever had from the picture of a stupid pin up girl. Or from the actions of my right hand alone. For the first time in my life, I was feeling sex, and the feeling was ripping through my entire being.

Mr. Meyer was feeling it, too. He reached down, and deftly pulled open my belt buckle. I was amazed at how easy it was for him. His fingers reached in, feeling my dick through my underwear. I could feel a wet spot forming as precum started gushing. I hauled down my pants, slithering out of them, leaving me in just my briefs. Hornier than I had ever been in my life.

Hornier than I had ever been in my life. In my fucking life. Yeah. Fuck yeah!

Need. Need awoken. I broke the kiss, and started wild, sweeping sweeps across his chest. Licking. Biting. I went after his nipples, hoping his were as sensitive as mine. With the heat from the fire, the heat from us, he was juuuuuuust starting to sweat, adding a salty tang to his skin. Sucking him. Making vulgar slurs with my tongue. Leaving a trail of spit.

I needed more. My mouth slid down his furry midriff. By the time I got to the waistband of his sweats, I did not give a fuck. I wrenched them down from his hips, down around his ankles. Freeing him completely, his steel-hard cock slapping against him. He was as naked as he had been that first day we started working out. Naked.

And all mine.

I buried my face in his hairy crotch. His smell singed my nose. Musky. Powerful. Raw. Inviting me into a world of savage masculinity. I went for it, huffing his smell as I mouthed his hairy balls. Rolling them in my mouth one at a time. Getting them slick with my spit. Their taste matching their scent.

He was growling in pleasure. So was I.

I lined my mouth up on his cockhead, rolled my lips like he taught me, and swallowed him down. He made a maniacal cry above me, simultaneously gasping and groaning. I took him in, hard. Mouth-fucking him, bouncing my jaw up and down, feeling the friction of his cockhead fucking my taut lips. He was leaking, too. That sweet-sharp taste of precum. His hand gripping my head. Bouncing his hips as I worked him over. Not caring about shit.

Loving it.

His hands caught my attention. He slid his palm roughly down my spine as I was hunkered over his crotch. Down, down, eased by a thin sheen of sweat. His fingertips hit my underwear’s waistband, and slid in.

I gave a yelping-grunt sound.

Oh God. My ass! His hands on my ass! I barely ever touched myself there. My forbidden zone. But him! Jesus Christ! He went there! His fingers sliding down my crack! My body shivering from the sensation. He was…

He was…

OH MY FUCKING GOD HE WAS FINGERING MY HOLE.

I went berserk, savagely bucking at him. Savaging his dick. Screaming. Screaming loud enough to wake the dead, if his dick hadn’t been balls-deep down my throat.

That did it. Mr. Meyer gruffly threw me off of him, my spit running down his cock to his balls. He all but ripped my underwear off, fully naked before him. Next, he roughly manhandled me so that I was on my hands and knees, with him between my legs. My butt open and vulnerable. I shivered—whether out of excitement or terror, I couldn’t tell. Oh God… what was he gonna do…? What was he…?

OH MY GOD.

OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD

To my ever-loving astonishment, he leaned in and started licking my asshole.

I screamed, my mind shattered. What the hell? You could do that? It was so wild, so unredeemably vulgar, so unforgivably taboo, I was sure the vice squad was going to kick down the door. That God would strike us down.

But my hero was eating my ass.

And it was the greatest moment in my entire life.

I was howling like a pack of wolves. He was vicious in his attack, slamming his face into me, again and again. Wild. Sucking as hard as he could. Digging with his tongue, as if it was his last chance for water in the desert. Raping me with his tongue, then sweeping side to side. His stubble was shredding my tender, untouched skin. Making me savage in response. Bucking desperately against him. Needing. NEEDING. GIVE ME FUCKING MORE!!!

I don’t know how long he ate me out. There was no time. There was only savage pleasure. Unspeakable. Hungry. But he needed more, too.

He pulled back with a breathless gasp from both of us. I grabbed something from somewhere. Then, there was… a wet feeling, as something dribbled down my crack. Right around my hole. And then, a searing jolt. Oh God. Not pain, not quite, but something completely outside my understanding. His finger. Sinking deep inside me.

And for the first time in my life, something went up my butt.

My legs went wobbly as my body tried to adjust to the sensation. But before I could adjust, he… found something. Something. Inside of me. I don’t know what it was, but it triggered something utterly primal inside me.

And I thought I was going to explode.

My startled grunts transformed into a wailing bellow as this new sensation rippled through me. I didn’t know such pleasure was possible. I didn’t know how I could stay grounded.

Mr. Meyer was talking, soothing words, explaining. Putting me at ease. I couldn’t hear, couldn't focus. The words were swept away by the tidal feelings. And they kept going. After a few minutes of bliss, I could feel another finger inside me, then another. Oh God... a fourth! A tightness. A fullness. My butthole pulled open. Stretched. My guts whirling around like an amusement park ride. Oh God. OH GOD.

And when he thought I was as loose as I was going to get, I could feel him lining up his dick against me. I was panicking. In all of this, I hadn’t had a chance to mentally prepare. Oh God. He was going… he was going to fuck me. Of course he was. That was the plan. But right then, at the moment of truth… what was I thinking?? I had to...

AAAAAAARRRGHAAAA!

There was pain. Pain beyond anything. Sharp and all-consuming. Driving out all other thought—perversely, the same way that all the previous pleasure had. Through the agony, I could hear Mr. Meyer’s voice. A sound that had gotten me through so many painful situations before. A voice I implicitly trusted.

“You’re okay. It will sting, but it will pass. Trust me, I would never hurt you. Breathe. Keep breathing. And when you can… push out.”

“I… I can’t….”

“Trust me. Breathe. It will pass." His beefy hands caressing me. Calming me. "You trust me, right? We work though the pain. Work it! Like we always do! And it will be unlike anything you’ve ever imagined. I promise.”

I was used to trusting him. Used to obeying him. I breathed. GOD IT HURT. Breathe. Breathe.

Breaaaaathe.

And… the initial shock vanished, taking some of the pain away. He could feel me unclench. And he started tiny little movements. Rocking. Barely moving at all. But… it was working. The movement got me to start relaxing.

“It’s okay,” I hissed. “It’s getting… better.”

“Just breathe,” he cooed. "Push through. Push through the pain. Pain is only the feeling of weakness leaving the body. Push." His hips starting to circle. Starting to move. My body starting instinctively to match him. Starting to….

Ohhhhhhhhhhh.

Something was… something was starting to happen. I could….

Ohhhhhhhhhhh.

What was that? It was starting to feel weird. It was like.

Ohhh GAAAAAAWWWD.

Something was triggering inside me. Something… unknown. Unexpected. And my body… blossomed.

Blossomed in golden LIGHT.

“Ohhhh, yeah… yeah you feel it, don’t you?”

IMMMGGHHHHAUH

“You feel my hard dick opening you up, don’t you”

“Ohhhh MUUUHHHAAAAHHHHHHH”

“Yeah, feel it. Feel my cock. Feel it! Fucking MAN SEX.”

It was like everything inside me started glowing with radioactive light. I could feel, fucking feel his cock sink into me. Re-arranging my guts. Setting me on fire wherever it touched. A glorious, shocking, obscene, sucking feeling.

A feeling of fucking LIGHT.

He slammed on top of me, laying us both out flat. His hairy chest pressed against me. Oh God his hairy chest. Scrubbing me. Scrubbing me clean. I was obsessed with that feeling. Something in the back in my mind wondered if my smoothness was as sexually devastating to him as his hairiness was to me.

His left arm wrapped around me. His right arm stretched out, grabbing me by the wrists and pulling them forward. Extending me. His face… rolled… all over me. Neck. Ears. Shoulders. Wet lips. Catching me breathless. His stubble scratching me. God, my head started lolling in response. Extending my neck to him. Reveling in the sensation of him. Overwhelmed by the force of him. His presence. Enfolding me. Possessing me.

God. The feeling of him. The physicality of him thundering around my body as lighting filled it within.

His hips started torquing and twisting, with devilish intent. Deeper. Deeper. Oh God I could FEEL his head inside me. Deeper. Pushing. Insistent. Hungry. My hole slowly embracing him, adjusting to the massive intruder. Kissing his cock. Massaging it inside me. God, all of it. All at once. His cock. is stubbled face. His thick hands. That barrel of a chest. His hair. All of it. Oh God. The electricity inside me. Arcing. I was convulsing. Writhing. He was overwhelming me. It was this feeling of utter euphoria....

Oh GAWWD.

He started rocking. Driving his dick in deeper with each movement. Sliding his hairy chest across my back. Until he pulled me in tight and we moved as once. I felt like I was losing control. The unholy SLIIIIDE of his dick plowing into me. Ripping me open. Open. Open for him…

Thrusting. Oh God he was thrusting. Driving inside me. Slowly. Relentlessly. A force of nature. Each drive ripping my mind apart. Thrusting. I could feel his man-bush crushed against my hole, then sliding back, then grinding into me again. Thrusting. Our bodies pushed forward each time from the power of him. Thrusting. Slow and deep. Making us both writhe together. Hitting places inside me. THRUSTING. The hair on my arms standing straight up. THRUSTING. Oh God the electricity. Electricity inside me. THRUSTING. Inhuman sounds from the both of us. My guts were exploding. THRUSTING. Oh God what was happening?? THRUSTING. Rushing in my ears! Oh God! THRUSTING! I was seeing fucking stars! THRUSTING! THRUSTING!! My balls were on fire!! Oh GOD! OH GOD!

OHHHMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!

Without touching myself, I blew the biggest load of my life. My body jerking and convulsing at the force of it. Lightning. Lighting. Oh GOD IT WAS LIKE I WAS STILL CUMMING. STILL. NGAAAHHHAA! 

Mr. Meyer pulled out, and roughly tossed me over, like I was nothing. "I wanna see your face as I fuck you." He smeared more lube on his cock, fisted it against my savaged hole, and ripped into me again.

NGAAAHHHAA! 

My back arched. My mind running with sensations too wild to contain. My legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, my heels digging into his ass cheeks. I grabbed his neck, pulled him to my face and spat out from gritted teeth:

“FUCK! ME! FUCK ME RAW!”

The next few minutes were a savage blur. He went from deep, slow thrusting to fucking pounding the shit out of me. All thought of easing me into it gone. Knowing I could take it. Knowing I was strong enough for it. I was fucking on fire. Our eyes locked. I couldn't look way if I tried. My body felt like I was still cumming, all the whirling electricity ripping through me. He was so… overwhelming. Terrifying to see. His sweat dripping into my eyes. In that moment, he looked strong enough to rip the sun out of the sky. Each thrust jolting my body forward from the force of it. Showing me just what the male body was capable of. What my body was capable of.

The fearsome, terrifying friction. Oh GOD. This was a sign of him I’d never seen before. Violence unleashed. Lost, lost entirely in a moment of raw sexual barbarism. He pounded me. Kept pounding. Pounding POUNDINGFUCKINGPOUNGING….

…and everything spiraled into a terrifying frenzy. His movements started jerking wildly. He was making a string of bestial sounds from bared teeth. Squeezing his eyes into slits….

…and with a savage roar he fucking BLEW. I could… feel… his cock start to buck like a rodeo bronco as his cum filled my guts. I could feel its spasms. My hands, gripping him, could feel the ripples across his whole body. He kept bellowing. Staccato grunts as he finished off.

I was in terrified awe, not sure what was going to happen next.

But he looked down on me. With a grin and a glow of raw masculine satisfaction… and a fucking twinkle in he eye… as he started slowly thrusting again. Again. And again. And Again.

Oh God.

He showed no sign of slowing down, and I was in no mood to let him go. He had let loose something inside of me, a beautiful, terrible hunger, and that hunger was only growing.

And… to my astonishment, he showed me a different side of sex. Of masculinity. And shared sexual joy. He was showing me just what the male body was capable of… but in other ways. Not just the raw power, but the dance of pressure, of touch... and restraint. Of delay. The way his lips tickled my neck. The way his fingers slid through my sweaty hair. Pulling back, letting the moment slow… and come roaring back to life. Eb and flow. Letting me savor the moment, without pushing too far, too fast.

Letting it come to me. Letting me learn.

I answered, running my fingers through his sweaty chest hair. Astonished by the touch. By the hardness of his muscles and the way they moved. I reached he face up. Smearing my nose in his sweat. Breathing him in. Tasting his salt. Listening to the changing pitch of his groans. Making out with him. Our tongues dancing in each other’s mouths.

Connecting. Connecting with this Man.

He’d go back to relentless pounding, harder than fuck. But then pulled back. Not allowing himself to pull the trigger. Not just yet. For either of us.

He kept us on the edge of battleaxe… but only honed the blade. Not drawing blood.

All the while I writhed and thrashed, ripped out of my mind by the immensity of what he unleashed on me. Sexual fire I had never known in my life roared through me, obliterating all else. Needing release. Pressure building with nowhere to go. Hunger. Raw masculine hunger setting me ablaze. Wanting no restraint. Needing no restraint.

After God knows how long, I had enough. I needed more. I was his equal in hunger and need. And I needed it! Needed masculine release!

In a sexual fury, I pushed him off—throwing him on his back and riding his cock for all I was fucking worth. Pounding him in a rage with everything I had. As hard as he had pounded me. As hard as we needed. Equals as men. My leg muscles screaming. I could feel his body rush toward rocket launch. Feel the tell-tale signs of his body reaching for release. His hands tearing into my pecs. I grabbed his wrists hard enough to break bones. Using the leverage to pound harder. And when he screamingly blew his rocks inside me, I swear he came so hard that he about launched me into orbit. Feeling his load inside me, I threw my head back and blasted out endless ropes of cum myself, spraying all over him. Pasting his face with my jizz.  

Falling forward. Falling into a kiss of savagery and bliss.

Oh God… his hands. His hands that moments ago had been gripping me hard enough to rip my body apart had gone back to hands caressing me with the lightest of feather touches. Feeling me. Skipping across my sweaty skin.

“So smooth. So beautiful.”

And I swear the hardness of his body melted into softness. His mighty arms enfolding me, steadying me. Making me feel safe.

And there it was. Another side of masculinity—Man the Protector.

It was the most intimate moment of my entire life.

*

I continued my "education" with Mr. Meyer for the rest of the year. Physically, of course—it goes without saying that he also opened up vast new worlds of physical pleasure for me, giving and receiving. Pleasures I would never have come to on my own without an experienced hand to guide me. And we did continue our strength training, giving me the body I wanted and deserved.

But his lessons weren’t only physical. There was… wisdom… in his training as well. Teaching me confidence. Pride and carriage. How a man should march forth in life, and seize his own destiny.

How to grab life by the balls.

I will carry these myriad lessons forever.

But.

As we all know, nothing lasts forever, and our time together ultimately came to an end. As the year wound down, life delivered a 1-2 punch to my gut—his wife got pregnant again, and he got a job offer in a bigger school district, with a salary he couldn’t possibly turn down.

I guess in a way, there was a lesson for me in that, too.

Our last time together, he finally asked me to fuck him. Maybe it was a final exam of sorts, to show everything I learned. It’s funny—I still hold today that the best way to learn how to fuck a guy well is to get fucked yourself.

I cried when we said goodbye. Alone, and unable to say anything to anyone. And that night, alone in my room, I cried harder. So many tears, I don’t think I slept at all.

But the next morning, I put that all away and started to push forward again.

That’s what a man does.

And with Mr. Meyer’s help…

…I most certainly had become a man.

THE END