We were done with our daily chores, my boy and I, and sitting around the table. I was thinking about dinner. He was waiting on my thinking. He looked casually over his shoulder out at the yard where we had done a good amount of work this day. Should I make him cook? No, I wanted to go out. But something was niggling at my mind.
Or was it niggling at my cock. OK, that too. I had been watching this sexy man bend over all day, swinging his ass in my face, swinging his strong thighs back and forth, swinging his shoulders and chest and arms all around. In fact, for much of the day he had tried to get me to fuck him, and I hadn't let on that I was ever interested in fucking that ass ever again. I was just a quiet man at home doing yardwork all day long. By this point, I think he was rather resigned to me not fucking him. I admit that I led him on on this point. We had started the day with me instructing him to wear the jeans with the rip torn in the ass, right up there between the cheeks. Can't be seen too easily, but wonderfully accessible to prying fingers. Then I hadn't done anything with the opportunity all day long. I think he was rather frustrated with that, but we all know that leather life always include more options than we end up pursuing.
He turned back to me from looking out the window and saw me watching him, but just as he began to smile as though we were about to start something, I said, "Well! Let's go! We're heading out to eat."
He tipped up his beer and swallowed the rest of it as I got up and went to get my keys.
We stepped outside. It was a warm early summer night, just deepening into twilight. We walked to the garage. He made a move for the car, but I said, "Nope. Bicycle. It's better for Mother Earth." He laughed. He knows that I have a strong commitment to bicycling for a bunch of reasons. Evidently he didn't hear me use the singular, for he moved both bicycles out from the wall and prepared them. We each grabbed our helmets, and I picked up the garage-door opener, but just as we made to board up, I stepped over the seat of the bicycle he usually used and sat down. To the question in his eyes, I said, "You drive." He grinned. I'd sit in the seat, with my feet on the lower bar, and he'd pedal with his ass in the air. He threw his foot over and waited for the door to go up.
"Wait," I said, and unzipped my fly, pulling out my stiffening cock. I pulled out a condom, flipped it down my shaft -- already getting rock hard with my grin and what we were about to do -- got a good gob of goo on my fingers and pressed it up through that rip in his pants all up inside his asscrack, sinking two fingers deep there. Then I grabbed his hips and pulled him down onto my cock, his jeans meeting mine. And just like that, with me on the seat and my cock up his ass, and he speared, trembling, I pressed the button on the door opener and up she went. As it cleared our heads, there was Saul from next door walking by, who looked up at us (knowing we were wonderful queer guys), saw us sitting so cozy on the seat, and waved, laughing, at how cute we were. I waved back. My boy had a blush and a lopsided grin on.
"Going out for a ride?" asks he.
"O man, I'm already on one," I say, and, hooking my boot heels in the bicycle frame, I slap my boys ass. He lifts his feet off the ground, his ass sinking down deep onto my cock and into my lap, and begins to pedal, the muscles working my cock powerfully. O man! It was difficult to keep a straight face as we rode by Saul, laughing and waving at us and without a clue that he was watching a good fuck at the same time. As we weaved down the alley -- nearly colliding with a fence -- my boy seemed to be having trouble keeping a straight line -- I clicked the garage door opener and as we turned out into the public street I heard it come completely down behind us.
"Now keep you ass down fully in my lap. I know it'll make us look more queer, but I don't care. You don't want my shaft getting cold now do you?"
"No Sir."
I ordered him down all the darker streets, making for the park which lay between my house and the street of shops and restaurants. He was moaning and wincing. This was powerfully working my balls, actually, as well as my cock, with his weight down on top of me, and the bicycle seat pressed up into my sweet spot below. This was going to take some discipline not to come too fast. I kept having to remind him to breathe and the both of us to pay attention to traffic, but we made it to the park.
As we entered the park, it got a lot darker, and there were no strollers about. I had been holding his hips with my hands, and now I moved him slightly up and down my shaft, showing him the range of motion he was allowed, about five or six inches. I didn't want my cock coming out of him yet. Then, as we bicycled faster and faster through the tunnel of trees, I began to roam my hands up from his hips under his shirt, scraping at his ribs, pinching at his nipples, pulling him back against my chest, and then forcing him forward with my sharp nails. We were reaching the other end of the park.
"Go around again," I said, pointing the way around the paths so that we'd make a circuit of the park. He was sweating now, working hard, and my cock and balls were aching, but no coming yet. As we turned down the dark path, I pulled his shirt up and over his head, dropping it in the basket behind me, and then pulled mine off as well.
He was heaving with the effort and the stimulation. "Coast a bit," I said and he stopped his feet. We were heading on a slight downhill now, and I pushed him forward so that his elbows were on the handlebars, proceeding to run my hands and fingernails all over his back and sides. I began to slap his back. He began to writhe under the stings. I grabbed handfuls of hair. His legs were writhing back and forth. "Pedal again," I said, and as he did, lifting his ass back up and down on my cock, I reached around to his crotch with both hands and grabbed his cock and balls as strong as I could.
He almost came, but no, not yet my boy not yet. I directed him back around again, heading toward the shops, going uphill now. And I whipped him on with one hand on his back and shoulders, and even my mouth biting at him there, and the other hand mauling his balls till he couldn't keep down the sound. His assring milked my cock up and his glutes rolled it like dough, twisting left and right, and up ahead appeared a single large tree at the crest of the hill.
"Make for the Oak boy!" I cried, "Make us come as we get there!" He poured himself into the climb, his ass lifting higher now, until my cock came all the way out. Then back in. Then back out. And I grabbed two huge handfuls of his chest and nipples and, pulling on those, began pounding in and out of that glorious ass as it worked hard and fast up the hill, the thighs pumping either side of my own, the back sweating and arched before me in the faint light of evening, his cries of exhaustion and pain and desire ahead of me and the wind in our faces.
You know. That boy did it. As we crested the hill, I ripped open his fly and dragged that cock out and by the time my hand was rushing down it's shaft for the first time, with my other hand grabbing the balls and squeezing, cum was shooting out all over those jeans, and my jeans and his boots and my boots, and then we lost it, careening off the path and crashing to the grass under the trees.
After a few moments, I said, "Boy."
"Yes Sir?" he barely replied.
"Did you come as I instructed?"
"Yes Sir!"
"Did I?"
"?" He looked. My cock was still hard, the condom substantially empty.
"O Sir! I'm sorry Sir!"
"That's all right. Use your teeth to pull off the condom." Which he did. "Now finish me off nice and gentle your mouth," which he began to do, "and Boy ...."
"Yes Sir?"
"Swing your hips around. That's it. Put that cock and those balls in my hand there," which I held outstretched to the side of me.
Which he did. And as he began gently and quietly to finish me off with his mouth, there in the quiet dark of our beautiful neighborhood park, I gently but quite insistently mauled his tender just-cum cock in my rough calloused palm. I swear his whimpering made my blowjob all the much better.