Brian's visit - version 2.0.0 (June-August 2009) (NC-reluctant, auth, cum denial, humil, feet, extensive drug use, unsafe-sex)
stories@nc.rr.com
DISCLAIMER: The following story is a work of FICTION - any similarity to actual people or events is entirely coincidental. It contains adult subject matter and should not be read by any minor, person who would find such material offensive, or if it is illegal in your area. If you meet these conditions, please delete this file from your computer. This work is not to be reproduced in any manner without prior approval from the author.
CHAPTER EIGHT -- BONDING WITH BRIAN
While the two of us worked on clearing the room of empty beer bottles and glasses, emptying ash trays, and collecting the remnants of the many blunts that had been smoked this afternoon, Brian provided me with instructions as to what was going to happen next.
"After we finish up here, go ahead and make yourself a drink. I'll need a few minutes alone in the bedroom so wait out here until I call you. Then you can turn off the lights in the rest of the house and come on back."
"I didn't think you wanted me to drink today," I said while tossing an arm full of empty bottles into the recycling bin.
"That was just until you admitted that you wanted this, dumbass! Besides, this is a special night..."
I straightened up at once and stared at him, not fully understanding what he meant. After noticing the confounded look on my face, he leisurely closed the distance between us, placed his hands on my shoulders, and drilled into me with his eyes. His voice was uncharacteristically tender and warm, his words spoken in an unhurried fashion and full of meaning.
"This is our first night together as boyfriends."
Before the magnitude of what he'd said had time to sink in, he pivoted on his heels and opened the freezer, retrieving a Ziploc bag filled with pre-rolled blunts. He fished one out and placed it in my hand.
"When I call you back to the bedroom, bring your drink, the blunt, and an ashtray. I've got everything else we need already back there. OK?"
"Yes Sir. But where did all those blunts come from? Did you roll `em yourself?"
"Oh no, they were leftovers from the party at Jesse's last night. I asked if I could take `em and he was in such a good mood he said yes, which, by the way, he NEVER does. Jesse doesn't give away anything. You really made an impression on him."
I winced at the thought, knowing that if Brian and I continued to spend time together, I was almost guaranteed to encounter Jesse again. This wasn't something I was looking forward to happening.
Brian smiled at my discomfort, smacked me playfully on the ass, and then all but sprinted down the hall to the bedroom, reminding me to wait for him to call. Not only was he being unexpectedly pleasant since the other guys left, he seemed practically giddy. Though it was a nice change of pace after everything I'd been through this weekend, I wasn't quite sure what to make of it and was more than a little suspicious.
I checked the liquor cabinet to see what was left and found that my guests had nearly cleaned me out. Nothing remained except for a few ounces of bourbon, of which I am not particularly fond. After looking for something to serve as a mixer, I took a seat at the counter with my drink and waited patiently for Brian to call, my apprehension growing by the minute, my imagination in over-drive, constructing the worst case scenario of what he might be planning for tonight.
As I sat, my gaze settled on my crotch, noticing with a bit of wonder that I wasn't hard. Since Friday night, walking around with a proud erection pulsing from between my legs had almost become the accepted state of things. So it felt strange to look at my hairless groin, my flaccid penis flopped over my similarly hairless scrotum. I noticed small, red bumps on the skin where I had shaved and found them to be rather unappealing, looking something like minuscule pimples. I knew they were simply razor bumps, but made a point to ask Brian if there was some way to get rid of them.
Finally, he gave the signal. After one final check to make sure the doors were locked, I switched off the lights and clumsily made my way down the hall to the bedroom, one hand clutching my drink and an ashtray, the unlit blunt hanging between my lips with my other hand gently running along the wall to guide me in the dark.
When I pushed open the door, I was shocked at what I found. Brian, the same man who had tormented me all weekend, the same man who had exposed me to some of the roughest elements of man-to-man sex imaginable, had gone to great lengths to cobble together what he considered to be an appropriate setting for our first night as an authentic couple.
The room was mostly dark, the lamp and overhead lights turned off. The small amount of available illumination was coming from the closet, where he'd left the bare, incandescent bulb burning, resulting in rays of light streaming from the louvers built into the closet door. In addition, he'd lit a stick of the same incense we used to burn in our dorm room (mainly to cover the smell of weed) and it was already filling the space with its fragrant aroma and my mind with memories of the time we spent together in college.
The most conspicuous thing in the room, however, was Brian himself. He was lying beneath the covers on his back, the sheet draping his extraordinary torso just below the nipples, his sturdy arms lifted and bent at the elbow, his fingers interlaced behind his head, revealing the mass of thick, curly blonde hair growing from his pits. There was a glimmer in his eyes that I'd never detected before, not in all the many years that I'd known him.
He smiled in a good-natured manner and said...
"Get into bed, boy..."
After placing my drink, the ashtray, and the brown, paper-wrapped cylinder of weed on the nightstand, I lifted the covers as much as was necessary to crawl underneath beside him. He immediately pulled me into his arms, holding me as if his intent was to never let me go.
"I cannot begin to tell you how long I've been waiting for this night," he whispered.
Not knowing precisely how to respond to those words, I kept my mouth shut and simply enjoyed the feeling of being held by him. Ultimately, curiosity got the better of me and I had to get some answers.
"Sir," I began timidly, my voice cracking slightly as I did. "Can I ask a question?"
"Sure, what is it?"
"When did you start thinking of me like this?"
"You mean romantically?"
"Yeah..."
"The exact date was March 30th of our junior year."
My head shot up at once from where it had been resting on his shoulder, a puzzled expression etched across my features. Not only was I surprised that he could pinpoint the moment so specifically, the date he noted had other significance as well.
"That's was my birthday," I pointed out.
"Yeah, I know. Do you remember what we did that night?"
I hastily searched my memory, trying to call to mind what we had done that evening, knowing that it would make Brian feel good if I could remember a few of the details of that night, a night which apparently had a profound effect on his life.
Regrettably, I came up empty handed.
"Uhmm, I'm sorry Sir. I can't remember what we did."
Brian's eyes took on a poignant appearance, but just for a moment. He recovered quickly and a forced laugh escaped his lips.
"I'm not really surprised. It WAS your birthday after all, and you really tied one on that night. Plus, it was five years ago..."
"What did we do?" I whispered.
"Well, you were acting kinda depressed because all our friends were either out of town or had made other plans already. The day before, you realized that it was just gonna be the two of us. You don't know this, but I tried everything I could think of to get some people to show up at a surprise party I wanted to throw, but I couldn't find a single person willing to change their plans..."
"I remember now," I said quietly. "That was a sucky birthday. But you didn't need to go to all that trouble..."
"I know. But I wanted to. It felt kinda weird, putting all that energy into it, since I hadn't entirely accepted the fact that I like guys. So I kept telling myself that I was just trying to be a good `friend'. At any rate, not knowing what else to do, I took you out to dinner and picked up a bottle of tequila. Then we walked down to the pond just off campus, you know, the one with the small pier..."
"Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about that," I said as the memories came flooding back. "But I don't remember anything that happened that night as being very romantic."
Brian grimaced to some extent at my words and I realized that this memory was either very painful for him or very pleasant. I couldn't determine which. Perhaps it was both.
"Maybe it wasn't for you," he said with a fair amount of sadness in his voice. "But what I remember is doing shots straight from the bottle while we took off our shoes and sat on the edge of the pier with our feet in the water. You really opened up to me that night, especially as you got drunk. I bet you told me more about yourself in those few hours than you had in the last two and a half years put together. We ended up lying down on the pier, looking up at the sky, and just talking all night..."
By the time he'd finished recalling the events of that evening, he looked overcome with melancholy, a state in which I'd rarely seen him.
"Sir," I tentatively started. "Just based on what's happened over the past few days, that doesn't sound like something you'd enjoy."
Brian took a deep breath and sighed heavily.
"Ricky, I know what I said earlier, but just for tonight, why don't we drop the whole `Sir' thing? I'd rather hear you use my name."
"OK."
He rolled onto his side, allowing him to look at me as we spoke.
"What was special about that night was that it felt like we were the only two people in the entire world. And you just seemed so unhappy over not having a bunch of friends to celebrate with. I was just dying to put my arm around you and tell you that everything was gonna be OK. And God, I wanted to kiss you so bad."
This admission hit me like a thunderbolt. How could I not have detected the way he felt that evening?
"You hid it well..."
"Actually, no I didn't," he laughed. "I was being really obvious. But that just wasn't the type of relationship we had, so you didn't see it."
After a minute to digest this information, I realized that I needed to know more...
"Brian, can I ask another question?"
"Sure, go ahead..."
"The way you tell that story makes you sound really, well - emotional. When did that change? When did you stop being romantic and get into all this aggressive stuff, you know, the kinda stuff we did this weekend?"
"I never stopped being romantic, Ricky," he explained. "Over time, I just discovered there were other things that I enjoyed too. Besides, they're not mutually exclusive..."
Brian sat up in the bed and motioned for me to do the same.
"Grab that blunt and fire it up. I didn't realize that you'd wanna talk all night. We may as well be getting stoned while we chat."
After reaching for the ashtray and pot, I lit the tip and inhaled deeply, already feeling substantially safer with this version of Brian than the man he'd shown himself to be over the past three days. As I handed the blunt to him, my mind began to evaluate his words while I sat in silence beside him. I found myself becoming uneasy again, but for entirely different reasons than I was accustomed.
Not surprisingly, my cock was getting hard under the covers.
"Ricky, you look worried as hell," Brian observed. "No, I take that back. You look scared shitless. What's wrong?"
"I am a little scared," I admitted hesitantly. "I've never done this before..."
"Dude, you had sex all weekend," he said with an energetic laugh while passing the blunt back to me. "If you include the party last night, you've had sex with more guys than I have!"
I took another hit before answering.
"Not like this," I said emphatically.
"What? Do you need me to rough you up a little before we get started?" he joked. "You need a good spanking to put you in the mood?"
"No, this is nice. I'm just nervous is all..."
"OK, what can I do to help?"
"I don't know," I whined as my cock grew to its full length and girth under the sheets.
"What do you want to do?"
We sat in aching silence for a few moments, my mind racing, contemplating the various activities we'd engaged in over the weekend. There were plenty of things I wanted to do, things I wanted to try again, but I was still too unsure of myself, or too embarrassed, to speak my needs out loud.
"OK Ricky, how about this?" Brian interrupted. "Why don't we just start with some kissing? Then maybe you'll relax enough to talk about what you wanna do tonight."
Without waiting for my answer, he snatched the half-smoked blunt from my fingers, along with the ashtray, and placed both on the floor near his side of the bed. While demonstrating a level of warmth I'd never before seen, he pulled me toward him, our lips touching tenderly. My cock responded by belching out the first of many drops of precum into the sheets.
We maintained this intimate embrace for what seemed like hours, ultimately slipping farther into the bed such that we were both lying down once more. In this new position, his kissing became more urgent. After tearing his lips from mine, he began to kiss the skin of my face, my cheeks, my eyelids, my brow, and across the bridge of my nose, before finally settling on my earlobe, which he began to soothingly suckle.
I moaned as a result of the fervent passion he was displaying, indicating my own rising sexual heat. Simultaneously, his large hand felt around under the sheets and latched onto my rock hard, drippy erection.
After releasing my ear, he pulled back long enough to look at me and grin sinfully.
"Well, I'm glad to see that you're enjoying this..."
"Oh my god," I whimpered. "That feels really good. I don't think you've ever touched my dick before. You jerked on my balls a lot this weekend, but I don't think you actually touched my cock..."
"I was trying to keep you from cumming, remember?"
His fingers loosened their grip and the tips lightly swirled around the flange of the head, gingerly rubbing in the ample precum pouring from the slit. I arched my back in response.
"I should let you know, Ricky," he said quietly. "I don't really like to suck cock. I've tried it before but it's just not my thing. I hope that doesn't bother you..."
I shook my head vigorously to indicate that it didn't.
"Actually, I don't think I'd want you to suck me," I stammered.
"Really, why not?" he asked, his tone reflecting valid curiosity.
"I don't know. It just wouldn't feel right. I'm the one who should be sucking you, not the other way around..."
Brian looked absolutely shocked by my candor, then conspicuously amused.
"Damn, Ricky! You really are a bottom!"
By now, I was beginning to relax, beginning to truly trust him. Perhaps it was from the pot or perhaps it stemmed from the tender manipulation he was still providing to the crown of my wet cock. I felt more comfortable with him, more willing to open up and talk about sex. So rather than deny his latest comment, I began to chuckle a bit and answered him honestly.
"Yeah, I guess I am a bottom," I admitted without reservation, quickly adding, "And who'd have guessed I'd end up being so into feet?"
"I know it!" Brian responded energetically. "I was starting to get a little jealous of Tim, how you kept choosing his over mine..."
We both shared a cheerful (though clearly pot-induced) laugh at the thought.
"Is that what you'd like to do next?" he asked. "You want a few minutes to work on my feet?"
"Oh god yeah," I groaned as his fingertips slowly released my erection.
"That's cool. But I'd rather you not play with yourself while you do it. Tonight is special to me and I want it to last a while. Do you think you can keep your hands off it?"
"Of course," I answered with a fair degree of certainty. "I've had lots of practice ignoring it this weekend, remember?"
"Well, get started then," he said with a beaming grin.
I threw back the covers forcefully, actually knocking the comforter and top sheet onto the floor altogether, revealing the entirety of Brian's unclothed body lying atop the fitted sheet covering the mattress. I drank in the sight of him and realized how much I'd always enjoyed looking at his form, realized that all those years spent being jealous of his body gave me a reason to keep looking at it, a reason that perhaps my mind needed during the years when I couldn't accept the real purpose of my surreptitious stares.
Kneeling by the end of the bed, I dug my thumbs into the sole of his right foot. Rather than be content with simply touching them, however, I immediately inserted his big toe into my mouth and began to gently suck, eliciting a low moan of approval from Brian.
"You really do enjoy that, don't you?"
"Yeah," I answered truthfully, my sexual needs growing by the minute. "I'm glad you got me started doing this. It's not something I'd of thought of on my own."
"A foot fetish isn't really all that unusual, Ricky. It's nothing to be ashamed of."
"I'm not ashamed of it. At least not with you, not anymore..."
"Well make sure to get `em both, dude. But I'm serious about you not cumming. If you get close, it's OK to stop. You don't need to worry about making me mad tonight."
Brian and I continued to talk for several more minutes, mainly about sex, while I worked on his feet. He reached toward the floor for the blunt, re-lit it, and we passed it back and forth until it was too short to handle.
"You know, Ricky. I have a fetish of my own, one that gets me almost as hot as feet make you. I think you know what it is..."
I did. I remembered seeing the magazine at the bottom of his bag Friday afternoon, shortly after he arrived, as well as the ropes he'd used to bind me multiple times over the weekend.
"You're into bondage, right?" I asked nervously. "You like to tie people up..."
He shook his head leisurely in an affirmative gesture, providing me with time to think about the possibilities before adding...
"It would be nice if you'd let me indulge my fetishes too."
Having finished with his feet, I hopped back on the bed to join him, a worried look chiseled on my face.
"Why does that get you hot?"
"I can't fully explain it, but I think most fetishes are like that. Think about it for a second. Can you REALLY explain why you like feet so much?"
"Not really."
"It's the same way with this. I think it's the expression of helplessness that washes over a guy's face when he realizes that he can't move, when it dawns on the poor bastard that he can't protect his body from anything my deranged mind might come up with, that he's totally vulnerable..."
"And you wanna do that to me?" I asked cautiously.
"Yeah, I do," he answered frankly. "Eventually, I'd like to make it a regular part of the way we play. But I know you said you didn't like it so I was thinking we could work up to it slowly. We could start with something simple, like just tying down your wrists..."
I took an extremely deep breath and exhaled steadily, considering what he was proposing. This version of Brian wasn't threatening in the least, and I now knew that he really cared about me. Moreover, I saw a kindness in his eyes that I'd missed earlier. I realized that I wasn't scared of him anymore and that I wanted to please him.
I was also reminded of something else that I'd wanted to try and maybe the two things could go together.
"Brian, if you really wanna tie me up, I'll let you..."
His face lit up with what truly appeared to be joyfulness, the expression infectious. I couldn't help but smile with him.
"Are you sure?" he prompted excitedly.
"Yeah, I wanna make you happy tonight. And I trust you."
I paused for a moment, not quite certain I wanted to tell him what I was thinking, but deciding in the end that keeping secrets from each other wouldn't be helpful at this point. Squelching the internal debate which so frequently prevents me from asking for what I need, I decided to take the risk.
"Actually, there was something else I wanted to try sometime and maybe we could work on it while I'm tied up."
"What is it?"
"Promise not to laugh?"
He grinned at me, this time a supportive, nevertheless amused smile.
"I promise," he assured me. "Besides, I doubt there's anything you could suggest that I haven't heard of or tried before. Go ahead, spit it out..."
"Remember in the video from Jesse's party when I had an orgasm while just standing there?"
"Fuck yeah, everybody who saw it remembers!"
"Well, not me. Whatever drug you guys gave me last night kept memories from forming in my mind. I can't remember doing it. But it looked really hot and..."
I stopped abruptly, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed.
"Come on, finish your thought," he prompted.
"I'd like to learn how to do that again."
"Dude, that shouldn't be too hard! I can't even count the number of times you almost shot without touching yourself over the weekend. In fact, I had to stop you from cumming at least half a dozen times."
"I don't know how to put it in plain words, Brian. You're right that I did get really close, but I'm not convinced I could've actually gone over the edge spontaneously any of those times, no matter what it looked like. There was a kinda psychological roadblock in my head and no matter how much it felt like I needed to shoot, I just couldn't do it."
"So what are you asking me to do, exactly? Be specific."
I took a deep breath. For some reason, this still felt difficult to discuss, though strangely liberating at the same time.
"I wanna learn how to cum without using my hands. From start to finish, I don't wanna have to touch myself at all. I want you to help me learn how to do that, you know, make me orgasm without any touching, not by me, not by you..."
After yet another deep breath, I nervously exhaled.
"Wow! I can't believe I just told you that..."
"Ricky, I can't even do that," he said with a skeptical look on his face. "How am I supposed to teach you how to do something I can't do myself?"
"Please Brian," I practically begged. "It just looked so hot on the DVD. I really wanna learn. And you could tie me up while we work on it. You know, that way I couldn't touch myself even if I wanted to..."
Brian was quiet for a moment, considering my suggestion. He didn't look repulsed by the idea. Rather, it appeared as though he was trying to think of a way to make it happen, a game plan. Gradually, his lips spread into a depraved smirk. Instead of initiating fear in me, this time his impish grin made my cock jump and a large glob of slippery goo dribbled from the tip.
He noticed.
When he spoke again, a bit of his prior aggressiveness found its way back into his voice.
"Go to the bathroom and run some cold water on your dick. Shit, put ice on it if you need to. But I don't wanna see you again until that thing is all the way soft. And once it's limp, don't touch it again. I'll get my ropes ready while you're gone."
When I hesitated, he added...
"Go on now! Move boy..."
I sprinted from the bedroom, bypassing the bathroom altogether and heading directly for the kitchen. After turning on the light, I pulled open the freezer and grabbed a bag of frozen vegetables. Feeling tremendously foolish for what I was about to do, I nevertheless held the exceptionally cold bag against my raging erection and waited.
Unfortunately, I was so energized by the prospect of doing whatever Brian had planned that this process took nearly five minutes. I finally had to start thinking of what I needed to do at work the next day in order to make my cock go fully limp. I tossed the cold, but rapidly defrosting bag onto the counter and started to walk back to the bedroom. I looked down as I touched the door and cursed loudly, realizing that I'd already boned up again.
Frustrated, I walked back and grabbed the bag of veggies, holding them ludicrously against my crotch as I went to join Brian.
He laughed hysterically when he saw me standing in the doorframe in this condition, holding a bag of frozen peas against my erection.
"Won't it go down, dude?" he asked through his giggles.
"No, I'm too excited."
"Let me see..."
I removed the bag to let him look.
"You're still half-hard..."
"I know."
"Well, just come over here and lie down. Keep the bag over your junk while I tie your arms..."
After moving to the bed, I reclined on my back and allowed Brian to secure my wrists to the wrought-iron rails in my headboard, the cold bag resting gently over my groin. Once both arms were secure, Brian removed the bag and tossed it from the bed.
"I guess that's as soft as it's gonna get. It doesn't matter though, we're not gonna be paying any attention to it from here on out anyway."
After focusing on my face, he noted my expression.
"Are you nervous?"
"Yeah," I answered honestly. "But it's a good kinda nervous this time."
"You look hot as fuck, lying there like that."
"I do?" I answered, not quite having the self-confidence to believe him.
"Hell yeah, you do! You look amazing!"
I giggled a little in spite of myself.
"You're just saying that because I'm tied up."
Brian narrowed his eyes at me, looking a bit frustrated at my inability to accept a compliment. Though his response was slow and serious, it was also filled with warmth.
"No, I'm saying that because it's you..."
A band of protection that had encased my heart for all these many years, melted away in an instant when I heard those words.
He crawled onto the bed with me and straddled my chest. After propping up my head with another pillow, he held his incredibly thick, foreskin-covered cock to my lips. This time, I needed absolutely no encouragement whatsoever to take him inside me, using my lips to peel back his foreskin, taking the time to savor the fluids collected underneath the hood. He tossed his head back and breathed deeply in response to the sensation provided by my steamy mouth and tongue. Moments later, his erection felt like a rod of steel inside me.
Though I was, for the first time, enjoying being restrained, I found this position to be miserable for sucking cock as I could not touch him, nor could he push more than the first three or four inches inside due to the placement of my head and neck. Deep-throating his meat, which was something I'd learned to take pleasure in, was out of the question tonight.
After five or ten minutes of this, he extracted his dick and rolled over to lie beside me. He smiled, ran his fingers along my chest, pausing to tweak my right nipple (an action which made me pull against the ropes), then leaned in to kiss me again.
Suddenly, he began to giggle. It began as a simple chuckle, which I could sense he was trying to suppress, but soon grew into an attack of boisterous laughter. I noticed his fingers approaching my lips.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Hold still, dude," he ordered while still laughing. "You got a pube on your lips..."
I rolled my eyes at the sheer absurdity of that statement but soon found myself laughing as vigorously as him. He leaned in close again, to complete the kiss he'd intended to start earlier, and we remained like that for several more minutes, mouths fully open, tongues single-mindedly exploring inside one another, holding nothing back, both of us giving in fully to the other.
When he broke the kiss, he moved his body down the bed and stared at my cock.
"Holy shit," he whispered.
"What?"
"Look how much juice you're leaking!"
I craned my neck to peer down at my dick. The organ looked absolutely monstrous, swollen to the limit, the angry red crown relentlessly seeping from the tip. Every few seconds it would convulse involuntarily and another thick bead of slippery prejizz would flow from the head. The fluids had formed a sloppy puddle in my abdomen, filling my navel completely, with the overflow oozing down my side, tickling as it descending to the sheet beneath me.
"Goddamn, you must need to cum! You got the fucking bed wet!"
"Yeah, I really do..."
"You want me to fuck you?"
"Yes! Brian, please. I'm serious this time. I really do..."
The desperation in my voice was palpable and pleased my man immensely. After applying some lubricant to both my hole and his cock, he lifted my legs and positioned himself between them.
I moaned in unqualified rapture when I felt the head of his bulky cock stretching me. He then continued his penetration with exquisite slothfulness. Though I refused to take my eyes off him in order to check the clock, it felt as if it took a full five minutes between the time his crown first breached my opening and the time I became aware of his pubes scratching my skin.
Once he was fully inside, he leaned into me, placing most of his weight on my torso, and hooked his strong arms around me to pull in tighter. I groaned in pleasure as I felt him slowly extracting himself, as deliberately gradual as his insertion. My mind and body were on fire with lust. I closed my eyes and relaxed to more fully enjoy the fullness.
"Open your eyes, Ricky. I'd like you keep them open tonight."
"OK," I whispered breathlessly.
After several minutes of this tortuously slow fuck, taking his cock with eyes wide in wonder at how amazing he felt inside me, I began to feel my body prepare for orgasm. My nuts began to rise, my dick began to vibrate with need, and the amount of fluid being expelled from my sloppy erection increased dramatically.
I was on my way.
The speed with which Brian was fucking me, however, seemed insufficient to send me over the edge. I wrapped my legs around his powerfull hips, hooking my ankles together behind him, and tried to use the strength of my lower body to force him inside me more aggressively.
"Stop that shit right now, boy," he said brusquely.
"Aren't you gonna go any faster?" I asked through my panting. I could feel sweat begin to pour from my forehead.
"Nope," he said matter-of-factly. "Tonight you're gonna take it just like this, nice and slow..."
"Oh my god," I moaned, writhing underneath him as much as my bonds and his weight would allow.
"Are you close?"
"Yes! God, I'm so fucking close..."
"Go ahead and cum anytime you want, baby."
I tried to settle down and focus, incorrectly assuming that this was what I needed to push myself over the edge, to get everything just right in order to trigger my much needed ejaculation. Unfortunately, this only served to get me hotter but not one inch closer to orgasm. The strain in my cock was becoming intolerable. Though I'd been through some intense edges this weekend, nothing I'd previously experienced even came close. Brian's methodically slow, almost machine-like fucking was only serving to increase my heat.
I frantically wanted him to just fucking pound it out of me and was certain he could do it if he tried. An animal-like roar of frustration filled my bedroom.
"AHHHHHHHHH," I cried out, now on the verge of tears.
"What's wrong?" he quickly asked, his cock slowing to a complete stop inside me. "Did I hurt you?"
"No! No, it feels good, Brian. But I need to cum, really bad. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I don't think I can do it..."
I began to collapse emotionally as I continued to babble.
"I don't think my body can do it. I just can't...I can't..."
Suddenly, he was holding me tighter still and his cock resumed its slow, easy thrusting.
"Tell me what it feels like. Why do you think you can't do it?"
I struggled for a moment, trying to find the right words.
"It feels like, I don't know. Imagine how it feels just a split second before you cum. Now imagine getting stuck there for ten or fifteen minutes and not being able to go any further. That's what it feels like right now. My body can't do it..."
Brian lowered his head beside mine, his lips at my ear. When he spoke, I could feel the heat of his breath as it entered my ear canal.
"It's not your body, Ricky. We both saw the DVD. We both know your body can do it. I think your brain is getting in the way..."
"What do you mean?" I whimpered.
"You were rolling pretty hard last night at the party. Your mind wasn't working right. It didn't get in the way of what your body wanted. It didn't stand between you and your orgasm."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Just relax, baby. Stop trying to make it happen and just LET it happen...we can do this...together."
He lifted his head, peering down at my sweaty face, seeming as though he was preparing to say something profound.
He was...
"I love you," he whispered as his cock sank into me again.
"Oh, Brian - I lo..."
He placed a hand over my mouth before I could finish speaking.
"Don't say it..."
"Why?"
"I've waited a long time to hear you say those words and I don't want you to say it just because I did. And I don't want you to say it just because what I'm doing feels good. After you cum, if you still wanna tell me, you can. If you don't feel like saying it anymore, that's fine too. Just not like this..."
Brian continued his tortuously slow fuck for some time and, try as I might to let go enough to orgasm, it remained just out of reach. By now, I could feel the dampness in the sheet underneath my hips where my moisture continued to seep into the bed.
"Please Brian, let me cum," I whined. "Please..."
He stopped for a moment and stared down at me, sweat beginning to drip from his face as well.
"How about we go ten more minutes? If you haven't cum by then, I'll jerk you off. But I want you to try something..."
"What?" I moaned.
"I still think your mind is getting in the way. You're still trying too hard. You need a distraction. So every time you feel my dick slide into you, I want you to whisper my name. Don't say anything else at all. And keep your eyes open and locked on mine. Think you can do that?"
"Yes Sir..."
Brian looked surprised at my choice of words.
"I said you didn't need to call me `Sir' tonight."
"I know," I answered in a hushed whisper, adding, "I just wanted to..."
Brian grinned, his satisfaction evident.
"OK, let's get started...say my name."
As his broad, uncut erection slowly pierced me again, I moaned...
"Brian..."
"Good boy, that's it. Keep your eyes on mine."
I felt it again.
"Brian..."
On and on this went. Each time the solid shaft of his penis bottomed out inside me, I would whisper his name, all while focusing attentively on his eyes. After several minutes, I realized this strategy was working. Having to center on him, with an explicit task to perform, gave my conscience mind little time to do anything else. Furthermore, I was being conditioned in a manner of speaking. Repeatedly whispering Brian's name and gazing into his soft, gentle eyes, all while experiencing the wonderful sensation of fullness his prick was providing, caused me to realize how much he meant to me, how much he'd always meant to me.
I drifted into a kind of trance, using his name as a mantra of sorts, feeling as though I was having an out of body experience.
"Brian..."
He pushed in again.
"Brian..."
I was filled once more.
"Oh my god, Brian!" I panted while beginning to shake. "I'm gonna cum..."
"Keep saying my name."
"Brian..."
One last time was all I could take.
"Brian..."
He seemed to know the instant before I was gonna spew and raised his torso off my own, apparently wanting to watch what was about to happen. My body began to thrash on the mattress, violently contorting from the breathtaking experience I was undergoing. I knew I was going to cum, but it felt special, the sensation not simply limited to my groin but flowing through my entire body, as if every cell in my hot, writhing body was preparing to ejaculate in unison.
I looked down to my crotch. This was something I didn't want to miss.
"Oh my god..." I whispered again.
My cock swelled to an absolutely ridiculous girth before the opening shot burst forth, sailing past my head, between the iron rails of the headboard, and splattering against the wall beyond. My mouth opened wide and I bellowed loudly as I felt my jizz leave the confines of my body.
The second shot landed right in my open mouth.
"Oh my god..."
Brian sank in again, just as leisurely as before, almost pushing the third jet of hot, white semen from my insides. It made it as far as my chin, where it clung nastily for a second before slipping down my neck.
"Brian..." I moaned in response to his thrust.
By the time my orgasm subsided, I was exhausted, sweaty, and covered in my own spooge. I began to quiver and tremble on the bed, as if Brian was sending my body into a mini-seizure. He gently lowered himself onto me, indifferent to the fact that my semen was creating a soggy mess between us. I wanted so much to tell him how I felt at that moment, but feared that not enough time had passed since my euphoric cum and wanting to honor his wishes.
He kissed me hard and continued to slowly sink into and withdraw himself just as unhurriedly, milking me fully, allowing me time to come down from this mind-altering experience.
When our lips finally parted, he looked down and smiled.
"You did it, Ricky. I'm proud of you! How did it feel?"
"Oh my god, Brian -- I can't describe it. It was the best orgasm I've ever had. Nothing before this even comes close..."
When our eyes connected, I just had to tell him. I only hoped he wouldn't be mad.
"Brian?"
"Yeah?" he whispered.
"I do love you," I said breathlessly. "I guess I have for a while now, I just didn't recognize that's what it was...I think..."
Brian's face contorted into a pained expression and I immediately feared that I'd made a mistake, that he wasn't ready for me to communicate my feelings just yet.
While his facial muscles remained twisted in manner which could easily be mistaken for agony, I felt his cock spasm inside me and the first substantial blast of his own load filling my gut.
My mouth fell open at the realization of what was happening.
"Oh my god," I whispered in amazement. "Brian? Are you cumming?"
He didn't answer. Neither did his face relax. He did, however, shake his head up and down to indicate that my assumption was correct. While his erection remained motionless inside me, I felt it throb and twitch again, depositing a second gooey slug of jizz. A third and fourth quickly followed. I couldn't believe the warmth of his fluids as I willing accepted them.
Finally, his face unclenched. Since he hadn't spoken a word throughout his orgasm, I was truthfully afraid that something was wrong.
"Brian, are you OK?" I asked in a hushed voice.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry though. I didn't mean to cum so soon. I had planned on going a while longer."
"What happened?"
He rolled his eyes while still trying to catch his breath.
"You told me you loved me, you idiot!" he laughed. "I guess it was just too much for me to take."
With that said, he collapsed onto me, allowing his full weight to rest on my body. Without looking, one of his arms reached upward and fumbled with the ropes securing my left wrist to the bars. Once it was free, I instantly placed my hand on his back, stroking the well-built, still-heaving muscles as quietly and lovingly as I could. After several additional minutes, he had recovered enough to untie my other hand and carefully remove his cock from my ass. He rolled off, onto his side, and pulled me close.
Though I'd lived in this house for more than two years now and slept in this bedroom nearly every night since its purchase, it had never felt more like home than it did tonight. I realized that it was late and that I needed to work tomorrow, but I continued to bask in Brian's silent, nurturing embrace for some time longer, until I heard him begin to softly snore behind me.
And I smiled again.
Though his methods had been questionable and I'd resisted during most of this journey, Brian's actions, indeed his very presence, had broken me out of the hellish rut in which I'd been hopelessly mired. But he had accomplished much more than just that. After this weekend, I would never look at myself, him, or any other man in the same way again...
...All because of Brian's visit.
THE END