A Well-Oiled Machine
Ten minutes.
That was the rule we’d silently agreed on. A safe, sensible buffer. Five minutes to let the world settle before I left the shop, then five minutes before I pulled into his driveway, to make sure no curious eyes connected his truck to mine. Maybe we were being a bit overly cautious, but this was new for us, rather daring. And I didn’t want anything to happen to jeopardize his business right now. Not when I was feeling so much for him already.
Those last five minutes in the cab of my truck, parked just around the corner from his street, were an eternity. My knuckles were white on the steering wheel. It wasn't nervousness, more like horny anticipation. I couldn’t get the images from yesterday out of my head. The way he looked, naked in the shower, water plastering everything to him, outlining his perfectly huge body before me. The feel of his mouth on mine. The taste of him, and the way he stretched me open when he finally pushed his way into my body. Gripping his huge biceps as he unloaded in my guts, breeding my ass so deep I could still feel him today.
The memory of the day played on a loop in my head as I sat there in my truck—the secret smiles across the garage, the way my breath caught when our shoulders brushed, the low rumble of his voice asking, "You're still coming over?"
Finally, I put my truck in drive and crept around the corner. There it was. His house. Our own secret rendezvous. His truck was already in the driveway, a silent promise.
I pulled in behind it, my heart hammering a rhythm that felt like home, home, home. I killed the engine and the silence was suddenly so profound.
Before I could even reach for the door handle of my truck, his front door opened.
He stood there, backlit by the warm light from inside, looking out to me. He’d showered, just for me. He was wearing a soft-looking grey t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His feet were bare. He’d been fast, and he was waiting for me.
He didn't wave. He didn't call out. He just stood there, a solid, welcoming silhouette, and watched me get out of my truck.
I walked toward him, each step feeling more real, more right, more excited than the last. The grass was cool under my boots. The evening air was soft. As I got closer, I could see the expression on his face. The giddy grin from the driveway was gone, replaced by something deeper, more intense. A look of raw, unguarded want. Fuck he was handsome, looking all clean with his wet hair and horny for me.
I stopped at the bottom of the porch steps, looking up at him. "Hey there big guy," I said, my voice a little breathless.
He reached out, not with his hand, but with his gaze, pulling me in. "Get in here," he murmured, the command a smooth rumble that made my heart flutter.
I took the steps two at a time. The moment I crossed the threshold, his arm snaked out, his hand curling around the back of my neck, pulling me inside and into him. The door clicked shut behind us, sealing us in.
And then he was kissing me. It wasn't a gentle hello. It was a deep, hungry, desperate kiss that tasted of coffee and the long, secret day we’d endured. I melted into it, my hands fisting in his soft t-shirt, pulling him closer.
He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against mine, both of us breathing heavily in the dark hallway.
"Missed you," he breathed, the words a shocking, beautiful confession.
I grinned against his lips. "It's only been ten minutes, you big liar."
He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, his gaze serious, smoldering. "Felt longer."
Then I gave him my sexiest smile, feeling so free at last to be alone with him, that I couldn’t wait to feel him inside me again. It felt amazing to have him kiss me again, pushing me back against the door like he couldn’t wait either. I could feel his dick so hard and huge in his sweats that I didn’t hesitate to reach in and grab it, feeling the weight of it and the heat. Fuck he was hard, and he was just as horny as I was as he moaned into my mouth.
“I need to fuck you. Now.” He panted at me and spun me around and pinned me to the front door before I could speak.
“Jesus Volkov, you big horny bossman!” I moaned as he grabbed my button on my pants just as I went to do the same.
“You have no idea Jenkins.” He purred into my neck, kissing it as I frantically helped him undo my pants and push them down over my ass. I felt his cock against my bare cheeks and pushed backwards, as I heard him spit into his hand.
He aimed and shoved himself easily into me, the feeling of the morning still fresh. I groaned and pressed harder backwards as his hands grabbed me. I felt the naked thigh behind me and grabbed it as I steadied myself against the door, my cheek pressed up against the heavy oak door.
“Fuuuuuuucccckkkkk Ivan….” I moaned, turning to watch him staring at me, his face a serious concentrated focus that made him look even sexier than before. He kissed me, stifling my moans and dug into me further.
This was by far the hottest scene I’d ever experienced. Free to fuck as soon as I walked into a man’s house. And I was going to be here all fucking night long.
He pounded me so hard, the sounds of our bodies slapping together matching the knocking against the door, coupled with our own moans and grunts filled his front entranceway. And when he grabbed my hand on the door I closed my fingers around his and held on. I had never felt like this before.
“Holy fuck Troy I’m going to cum!” He said suddenly, sounding surprised he was going to nut so fast. “I’m gonna fuckin’ plant this one so deep in your guts so fast but the second one is going to take all night!”
“Do it. Breed my ass Ivan. Fuck me all night long!” I panted over my shoulder at him. Just saying those words helped my own surges rise to the occasion. I didn’t know how he was doing it, but he was going to make me cum by fucking me again.
And with a tremendously loud grunt, he grabbed my hips and fucked his load right into me as my own load fucking erupted from me, my mouth hung open in amazement as I watched myself cum without touching my own dick. Both of us grunting out a series of groans as we finished, my cum all over the door and his painting the insides of my ass as I let my face rest on his front door.
We took a moment to catch our breaths, before he excused himself from me. He told me not to move for a moment, and then grabbed a cloth and gingerly wiped himself off, before he did the same to my backside and laughed at the amount I had spilled over his front door and floor. My cock was still hard, and bobbing, and he gave it a flick.
“That’s just the beginning.” And then he was leading me by the hand, not toward the bedroom, but toward the couch. He sat down and pulled me down with him, until I was straddling his lap, his sweats still down around his knees, his big hands settling on my hips, holding me there.
"Now," he said, his voice full of a quiet, possessive joy. "Where were we?"
It wasn’t long before his grey shirt was off and my mouth was on his nipples, making him moan and tense in never before known pleasure. He was hard wired, which I discovered last night, and I couldn’t wait to explore that further.
But he was also bigger and stronger than I was. In no time, I was the one who was naked, and his big fingers were kneading places no one ever touched. He propped me over the couch, my chest into the back of the couch, my long arms dangling over the back as he pushed my ass upwards, and that broken-nosed mug of his dove into my backside.
I don’t know what sounds I made, but they were new. No one has ever touched my ass, let alone put their face in it, other than a slight brush during a pass in football, or a pat on my hard butt for a job well done. But this? Fingers, then his face, and the long thick tongue of this giant man sent me into a face-numbing sensation I had never experienced in my life. By the time he stood up behind me, his sweats a long forgotten piece of clothing, he slid into me for the second time as if he belonged there. There was no sharpness of pain, there was no wince of discomfort, it was just me looking over my shoulder at the behemoth grinning from ear to ear as I was more than ready for his big tool as he gingerly reached out his giant paws and placed them on my shoulder to hold me steady.
I continued to make new sounds, grunting and groaning, working my firm ass just as much as he was drilling into me with his enormous cock. The look on his face was joy and pleasure, and he pulled me up suddenly into his body, wrapping his arms around my front and turning my face sideways to get at my mouth with his own, kissing me into oblivion as he grabbed my swollen cock and jerked me off, spilling my load out in front of us as he filled my ass with his seed for the second time that evening.
There was water to drink afterwards, and some cheese and meat right from the packages on the coffee table before round three started, right there again on the couch, before he carried me, yes CARRIED me into the bedroom for a longer, slower, earth-shattering, bed-shaking fuck of my life.
I think I actually scratched him, right down his back, drawing blood as my cock erupted, without a single fist around it, as he fucked me, missionary this time, working his cock into me on an angle that made me fucking gasp, staring into my eyes watching me the entire time.
In two short days, this man had made me cum from just fucking me. He learned how to please me, how to angle himself, how to punch my insides deeply in just two days. My coach had been railing my ass for 12 years and he never came close to learning what made me quiver.
As I caught my breath after our fourth round, our athletic bodies untangling from the latest panting union but still linked together, it was Ivan’s smile that undid me, and the way he looked at me. A big dopey grin of satisfaction at making me cum without using anything other than his own big torque wrench.
I knew then that all the things I imagined could happen, all the emotions I thought I wanted to feel, were about to come true.
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