"DUDE!" Tommy gushed at me. "I'm fucking serious. That big, old fucker fucked the fucking hell out of my mouth and had that horsecock halfway down my throat and practically ripped my ears off holding me so I couldn't get a breath until he blasted what felt like a fucking bathtub of spooge down my throat!"
Obviously, my Tommy was given to elaborate, though rarely embellished, notwithstanding the "bathtub" sized cumload, detail when recounting his sexual exploits.
"I'm serious, bud. I was fucking choking and thought I might fucking drown in that seed there was so fucking much of it and his cock was shoved so far down my throat so I couldn't breathe whatsoever." And yet, dear Tommy-stud, you're here to tell the tale . . . and will likely tell it over and over again. "That fucker's balls were fucking huge and I swear filled to the fucking brim!" he went on, and I just smiled.
"Oh and dude, he NEVER shut up!" I had to laugh at that, given the person making that comment. "I swear he shoved me down on my knees and said in this New YAWK accent, 'C'mon bitch, show me how you take care of a REAL man's daddy-cock!' and just kept on giving orders."
I had to bristle at the "REAL man's cock" comment, given that Tommy was my boyfriend and had been taking my own horsecock - though Tommy said it was thicker, more like a bull's cock - for almost three months. SOME OF THESE CLOSET CASES! I laughed to myself and let the annoyance pass.
"Oh, and his nuts, Ry, I'm telling you, they have to have bruised my throat swinging and SMACKING my throat like that. BIG fucking LOW HANGERS!" Tommy hyperextended his neck and leaned toward me. "Can you see any bruising?" he asked, brushing his long, muscular neck with his beautiful big fingers as if to clear any visual impediment to my assessment. "I fucking swear if his nuts weren't aching from that SLAPPING against my neck, then he's got fucking iron nuts!"
Tommy knew how to get me going. I had no doubt the "REAL man's cock" and the "iron nuts" comment were, indeed, directed toward my own desires.And whether they were or not, I took my Tommy by the back of his beautiful, long neck and pulled his head down into my sweaty crotch. "Let's see what you learned from Big Al or whatever you said that mook's real name was!" I told him, grinding my hardening cock into his face and moving his head so it was giving his face an all-over rub.
"MMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," Tommy moaned as I got harder, painfully in my sweaty jock strap, fresh from an unexpectedly long gym session, having found a sparring partner right as I was leaving and gloved up and went at it with him in the ring for close to an hour. I was worked up, and I'd known Tommy was getting some strange, which just worked me up more.
We had an agreement, Tommy and I did: we can do whomever, whenever we want, but we always came home to each other after unless one of us is traveling and, more importantly, we always let each other know FIRST. Simple rules, but somehow they made it hotter, knowing that we could play but never went home alone or stayed over but instead always came to the other's place and then we had our own fun.
Tommy had my thin workout shorts down, having given the crotch and ass a healthy sniff before casting them aside and rubbing his face on my sweaty jockstrap and mostly-freed cock again. FUCK! He knew how to treat a cock, and if I wasn't about to get as good or better than Big Al, I'd have been jealous.
He freed my full, boiling nuts, and rubbed his face all over them and then began laving them and sucking them, just the way I loved. My cock was rock hard and twitching, precum flowing, and my balls were tingling from his lingual attention. When he took them both in a firm grip and pulled them tight and squeezed just enough to make my cock force a huge glob of precum, he licked it off my engorged head, swirling his talented tongue all around before engulfing it completely in his mouth.
"Oh fuck, Tommy!" I hissed involuntarily, breaking my resolve to make him work to get me after his obvious enjoyment of the mook's cock. But I not only was helpless to resist Tommy's sexual charm and talent, I loved the guy, too.
"MMMMRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!" he growled around my cock, taking more than half of my over-sized shaft into his mouth, my head now pressed against his throat.
I got up, standing by the sofa where we'd been sitting while I guzzled more water, replenishing my fluids as my balls produced yet more, listening to Tommy's report. Tommy never let my cock out of his mouth, getting himself upright and sitting on the edge of the couch, me now standing directly in front of him. He reached around and grabbed my buttcheeks with both hands and pulled me into him, my lightpole-rigid cock momentarily bowing painfully as my big head struggled at the opening to his throat, and then finally it popped in, and his nose collided with my untrimmed pubes, eliciting a long "OMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"from him as he took my over-nine balls deep.
"OH GOD, TOMMY!" I exclaimed, likewise helpless to resist the awesome feel of him devouring my cock. "FUCK YEAH! SUCK IT, BABY!"
Tommy LOVED dirty talk from others, but he told me the first time we hooked up that he loved that I didn't "narrate" and commented when it "meant something." I confessed then and there that it was more a matter of him making me speechless than my usual habit. Tommy was an AMAZING sex partner, and we fit together like Legos. He matched me move for move, no matter what the game or scene, and from that first time together I'd never had orgasms before or since with anyone else like I did every fucking time with him. He rings my chimes!
The uber rule of Tommy Greggson: NEVER hold back. He can take ANYthing, will do ANYthing that gets me hot. He's incredibly intuitive, and more than a few side-tricks had to be "dealt with" because they liked him a little too much. I could relate. But I'd won this prize - apparently rather handily, if I do say so myself - as we were hooked on each other from that first time at the Dodger game under the concrete stairwell at the Dodger game.YUP . . . that depraved are we! No apologies.
He was squirming on the sofa as he slurped up and down my cock and yanked and squeezed and massaged my cumtanks, and I knew he needed to be fucked. Knowing he needed it - wanted it from me - was too much, and I clamped my hands HARD on his head, SHOVED HARDER into his throat as he gurgled a garbled "MRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMUUUUUUSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"which I knew to be fuck yeah, and began to BLAST my nutload down his throat HARD, holding onto him to impale him and to steady my shaky legs as my body spasmed from my pinky toes to my scalp.
"FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!"was my one long shout as I blasted.
I pulled back three-quarters when I was halfway through my delivery to give his mouth a dousing, as I was still blasting like a man who hadn't cum in weeks. Tommy, of course, used the opportunity to suck and tease my overly sensitive cockhead, forcing me to steel myself and grit my teeth against the near-torture of the pleasure.
Then he pulled off me abruptly, not loosening his grip on my balls one bit, but, in his usual acrobatically athletic way of moving his body, spit his other hand full of my cum and his spit, swiped his wrist and hand and got his shorts down to his knees, swiped the cum-filled palm into his crack and shoved several finger-fulls inside him, and got himself on all fours on the sofa all in one fluid - pardon the pun - movement. Then he pulled me by my nuts into him.
I was still rock hard, and he knew I could go a few times if we just kept going, so I found his tight pink pucker with my bullcock's head and SHOVED into him just the way he loved it.
His turn. "FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!"he shouted so loud, as he often did, that I was certain his neighbors were either deaf or perves, enjoying our frequent sexcapades. "FUCK ME!" he demanded, panting through the pain and locked teeth.
I knew Tommy loved it ROUGH and FAST, and I did too, so I went to work POUNDING that tight, clenching fuckchute. His heat, as always, was searing, and my cock felt like it was in a grip as tight as any fist, hot, wet, gooey and oh so fucking inviting.
"YEAH, FUCKER, FUCK ME, RY!" he growled, fucking me back, our swinging balls smacking painfully together and neither of us caring one fucking bit.
"Jesus Christ, Tom!" I hissed, as his tight clenching worked my cock. My hips were completely under their own driven objective, and I couldn't have stopped fucking that stud-bitch if our lives depended on it.
I pounded and slammed into him, ground the last millimeter up into his guts on each thrust and mauled his prostate on every thrust and out-stroke with my huge, fat head.
"OH YES, OH FUCKING YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" Tommy cried out, and I knew he was seconds from blasting his seed. It didn't matter he would be blasting on his fancy sofa's upholstery - didn't matter to him now and wouldn't after the fact when he took the time to carefully clean the upholstery - he was THERE and I'd gotten my man THERE. I slammed him harder, faster, carefully aimed strokes had him screaming, his ass spasming then, finally, clenching painfully as he began to blast.
Tommy bucked back and up, and my cock wrenched inside his tightened channel as he bucked and convulsed and shouted "OHGODOHGODYESOHFUCKYESOHFUUUCCCKKKKKKK!"as he blasted out.
Of course I was almost there again, and Tommy knew just how to pull me over the edge . . . literally. When he got enough control back, even though his body was still shuddering with his climax, he reached under and back, got hold of my nuts and squeezed HARD and PULLED.
"GGGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGG!"I growled and slammed him even harder, knowing I'd erupt the second time any second.
"FUCKING GIVE IT TO ME, RY! I FUCKING WANT IT!" Tommy shouted, squeezing my nuts harder, pulling them tighter, making it ecstatically excruciating to continue pumping him, but I couldn't stop if he'd yanked my balls off.
With a long growl that went to a moan that went to a cry, one of my most intense climaxes bloomed from my tortured nuts and blasted through me like a nuclear bomb, mushrooming to my extremities in a split second and erupting into sparks in every one of my nerve endings as I pumped him full.
"FUCK YES! FILL ME, RY!" he shouted and milked me mercilessly with those fuckmuscles in his mancunt.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAJJJJJJJJJJJEEEEEEEEEZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSS!"I was shouting as my balls were still pumping, maybe now spasming, as I was sure I'd long since expelled any fluid into him.
I pulled back suddenly, risking my ballsac's detachment but fortunately he let go, and felt my huge cockhead pop out of his ring.
"FUCK!" he shouted.
"I. Just. Fucking. DID!" I panted, enjoying the sight of him slumping back onto the back of the sofa, spent, his cunthole gaping still.
Tommy chuckled at my joke and caught his breath like that.
Then I saw the first of my cum run out of his swollen red gaping cunt, down the underside of his swinging ballsac. In a move worthy of a ninja I was there quicker than the eye could see and caught that rivulet of my cum on my tongue, savoring the taste of my cum and his ass and sweat. He had this amazing gift of the right physicality to be cleaner than an operating room table back up in there with little apparent effort. The perfect bottom I called him . . . often after I'd eaten him out, as I was doing now.
I paid no heed to his soreness, but assaulted his fuckhole with my tongue and licked and sucked and ate him as clean as I could of my cumload while Tommy squirmed and cussed and shoved his cunt back into my face and rubbed all over me with it, gyrating as I made a meal of his freshly fucked hole. When there was no more of me to suck out, at least none that close to his opening, I pushed him over and swallowed his hard-again cock whole.
"OH FUCK, RY!" he cried.
Nope - suck this time. I went to work on that knob and tasted his load before - the taste I fucking loved - and sucked and licked his head and veiny shaft and big smooth nuts while he had his slimed ass on the back of the sofa and his feet planted on the cushions. Finally I moved him forward enough to get two of my big, fat fingers up him - another pleasing cry from him, though I knew it was as much pain for his sore cunt as it was pleasure - and began rubbing his prostate and feeling him squirm and his cock throb in my mouth.
I worked him like that relentlessly moving him to the edge .. . and then backed off, to a loud, plaintiff, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"from him as I did.
I laughed evilly, left my fingers in him and awkwardly got up higher on my knees and put my face up toward his chin. "Kiss me and tell me you love me," I said, knocking his prostate with my fingertip at the end.
"I-" GASP, "Fucking LOVE you Ryan Sorensen. Now-" but he'd bent enough that my lips found his, and we were sucking face greedily, amid frequent gasps from him as I worked his knob.
And I did work it, just the way I know how to make him completely powerless to do anything but to go with it. We kissed and sucked face all the while as I got him close and then backed off, over and over, a few times feeling his precum drop onto my feet, enjoying his moans and cries. And then, when I was as turned on as he was, I grabbed his hips, stood and SHOVED my hard cock into him and fucked him to his climax to a stream of shouts and cries of "OHGODYES" and similar exclamations, feeling him shoot his second wad all over the both of us as I held his ass impaled on my cock, his torso supported by his arms on the back of the sofa.
I didn't think I could go again, but I was dead wrong, as the sight of his head thrashing, the sounds of his "OHMYGODFUCKYES"es and the like pulled me over the edge, and I was filling him again, eliciting loud hisses and moans from him as I shot his SORE fuckchute full of me and drenched his guts with my seed again.
"Ryan," he sighed, collapsing into my arms after I'd carefully set his feet onto the sofa again. I picked him up easily, despite his six-two muscular frame, and carried him toward the bathroom with his face buried in my neck.
I knew how he felt. I loved this man who loved me, challenged me, taunted me, tantalized me . . . completed me. I nuzzled his head with mine as he clung to me and I got him to the shower just as my arms and back were about to give out.
"My big, strong doctor," he said, gazing at me as we stood by the stall listening to the water run, giving it a moment to warm up.
I leaned down and kissed him. "MY sexy lawyer," I told him.
"God we're a Jewish mother's dream, aren't we?" he joked, then suddenly looked up at me with alarm.
I laughed and told him, "It's okay."
"I didn't mean anything by it, Ry! I'm totally okay with the way things are now, you-"
I kissed him again and pulled his sweaty, cum-splotched body against mine and got us both under the shower's heads. In the tumult of the hydro-assault, as I began to lather him all over, he started to say something to fill the silence between us, but I stopped him. "You've actually ruined my surprise, Tommy."
He stopped his head-back enjoyment of my hands all over him, lathering, washing and enjoying him, and looked at me. "What do you mean?"
I was washing down his muscular left leg, enjoying the feel of his huge calves and quads, the result of years of gymnastics when he was a kid and into high school and college. Unfortunately, for he loved gymnastics, his body had other ideas, and he grew too tall and big to compete with the smaller men who could propel themselves almost weightlessly. Gymnastics' loss was my gain - a tall, sexy, lean-muscled hunk to stoke my libido! "I was going to wait to tell you this tonight when we got to dinner, but I don't want you to wait. My parents are joining us for dinner, Tommy . . . to meet you."
Tommy gasped. It had been an issue - very minor, but an issue - between us that I had deliberately taken my time introducing him to my parents. He knew the very short story behind my reticence: "the one" or so I'd thought, some years ago, which turned out to be a nightmare in the making when the breakup occurred, dragging not only me but my parents into the muck. Since then, I'd confessed to Tommy, I'd never introduced a boyfriend to my parents, even when I'd been with one almost two years.
It wasn't as if it mattered to him I knew; it was just that it was a barrier, a wall of sorts, between our total commitment to each other.And Tommy was exceptionally touchy about anything which seemed like he'd pushed me or was pushing for that. His surprise at how his comment sounded before showed it; the way it sounded wasn't his intent at all.
Cleaned up, and glowing from our earlier funtime, we got to Sun-Oil-Salt on the strip, having walked down in the glorious late spring night and found from the maître d' that my parents were already seated. As we approached the table and my father stood as we neared, I noticed two things. The lively step and excited energy from Tommy suddenly felt like lead in my hand where I held his; and my father's face registered utter, total surprise and shock. As confused as I was, I remembered my manners, hard taught by my parents. "Mom and dad, meet Tom Greggson. Tommy, meet my parents, Miriam and Allll- uh, Alan Sorenson," and I was stammering because it all came clear and I realized. I'd refrained from using my dad's favorite nickname: Big Al.