Hi everyone ... sorry for the delay in getting this written. It was somewhat harder than the other installments (in various senses of the word), but here it is. I hope the wait was worth it. And as I've promised, there is a sequel to this saga, so stay tuned for that! As always, I love getting your emails and comments, so keep `em coming! (damon9888@hotmail.com).
Let me describe his cock to you. I know I have already, but that was in passing. Let me really describe it to you: it was almost seven inches long, and a little more than an inch thick. He was circumcised. The head was gorgeous: flaring out about a quarter inch from the shaft, it would get swollen with desire when he was hard, and I loved little more than to trace its contours with the tip of my tongue. When he fucked me I could literally feel it pop inside me as he pushed it past my sphincter. He leaked a lot of precum. As I write I have the vivid memory of pausing as I sucked him and running my thumb up his slit to spread that delicious clear liquid around all over the head until it was slick and glistening. Then before resuming my sucking I would swirl my tongue over and around, licking it all off, loving the swollen, spongy feel of that knob of flesh beneath my tongue. Sometimes I would take just the head in my mouth and swirl my tongue against it, something that invariably made him squirm with delight.
It was the perfect size, really. It's always a turn-on in porn to see a virtuoso cocksucker take a monster cock right to the root, but that always has a bit of an element of a circus act. Sword-swallowing, really. In real life, I far prefer something only slightly larger than average. Adam's was ideal, so it was serendipitous that he was to become my principal experience in that regard. I learned to deepthroat him, which took a bit of time, as I have something of a sensitive gag reflex. But it was worth it to feel him cum when I had him swallowed to the hilt, to feel the entire length of his cock as it started to twitch and pulse and my throat muscles milked him as I swallowed.
Better than that though was when he came in my mouth, when I could feel the explosion on my tongue. He tasted so good, salty and slightly fishy, and I loved how hot it was when it first spurted from his cock. He came two different ways: one was the longer build-up, when I could feel it coming, as his cock got harder and seemed almost to strain at its skin. His breath could come in faster and faster gasps, going up in register, accompanied by some repeated phrase ... usually "Right there ... right there ... right there ... right theeeerrrrre ..." I can't tell you how much hearing him say that turned me on. It was better than "Oh fuck, yes!" or anything like that (though hearing that was a turn-on, too), for reasons I don't quite grasp. I think perhaps it was because I knew he was getting close then, and that what I was doing was about to put him over the edge. He'd get harder then, and, impossibly, get bigger; the first third or so of his cock would swell and expand, and then he'd give a shuddering gasp--if I was sucking him, his hands would go to the back of my head--and he would cum in an ecstatic spasm, jetting his seed into my mouth or my hand or my ass. His whole body would tense, but in particular his legs would ... and he had these beautiful runner's legs, and in that moment every muscle of his thighs looked as if they'd been etched in diamond.
The other way he came was suddenly. I've mentioned many of those moments so far--perhaps you remember chapter one, when his first orgasm with me took both of us by surprise. I loved those moments even more than the ecstatic buildups. It reminded me that he was young, and still new to sex. There were times he could hold out for a long time; but then sometimes I did something, by accident or design, to put him unexpectedly over the edge. One of those times was when I was sucking him, and had paused to tease the skin just beneath the head of his cock. Just experimentally, I started to tap my tongue against the skin there, just lightly. I don't know why--nor did he--but that was enough to make his cock jump to the conclusion. The only warning I had was when it twitched and Adam grunted, and suddenly two, three spurts of cum hit me in the face.
Really, more than anything else now, the memories of those startling orgasms are what make me need to pause and take out my cock and jerk off to the thought of Adam. He was always so apologetic ... no matter how much I rhapsodized over them to him, he was always embarrassed, which I suppose is fair. No man wants to imagine he has a hair trigger, but then it wasn't as if Adam went flaccid for hours. No, he was usually hard again in minutes and, if all went well for me, fucking me with slow hard strokes.
His cock was steel sheathed in velvet. It was silky and sweet and salty, and his man scent was never off-putting, however long it had been since he'd showered. I spent hours, collectively, tonguing his cockhead and that silky patch of skin beneath the head and the one under his scrotum. As he did to me. Freud once theorized that homosexuality surfaced in people when they failed to leave the autoerotic stage of development--that time as small children when we become fascinated with our own genitalia. If we don't develop past that, he suggested, we spend our lives looking for it in others. And like so much of what Freud said, this is SUCH a crock of shit. I have known too many straight men disturbingly enamored of their own cocks; and, frankly, during those days with Adam I was far less fascinated with my own genitalia than with his. I don't understand men, straight or gay or somewhere in between, who are only concerned with the satisfaction of their own desires. What a turn-on it is to make someone else helpless with pleasure! I was never harder with Adam than when his cock was throbbing in my mouth, or when I looked up as he fucked me to see his face contorted in ecstasy. That moment of release when he came is what I think of when I indulge in masturbatory memories of him now, not my cock in his mouth or hands or ass.
Though I do think of that too.
The last night of our time together seemed to catch us both by surprise. We had been caught in such a bubble of pleasure and desire, so oblivious in the midst of it all to the outside world, that we simply had not paid attention to the passage of time. Of course, it had to come to an end ... such a fever of sex could not have been sustained much longer. In hindsight, we were both a little relieved to part even as we couldn't bear the thought of it. But we also had more complex and worrisome concerns going into that last night ... what would we be to each other after we parted? I know that had gone through my head before, and had no idea what Adam was thinking. Did he plan, now, to come to the university to be with me? I wasn't sure I could live up to that. I could deal with embracing a gay lifestyle, I told myself ... but Adam was so young, comparatively. Certainly, I would lose the friendship of Doug. And some would take me for a pederast, or some sort of predatory asshole.
And when I was honest with myself, I also had to admit how hard it would be for me to come out ... in any capacity, really. These secret desires had been just that ... secret ... for a long time, and I wasn't prepared to share them.
There was also the fact that Adam was pretty singular for me. Every time I had fantasized before, it had solely been about cock. The person attached to it was incidental. My two internet hookups had been like that. I hadn't wanted to kiss them or really touch them anywhere else than their cocks. And it wasn't as if hot men were suddenly turning my head in the streets. So, Adam was something different. I loved his body, I wanted to feel him against me, I had no qualms about kissing him (far from it--he was an instinctive and natural kisser). But that set him apart for me from other men.
What had happened to me? Was this some sort of vacation from reality? More and more, that seemed to be the case. As we approached our final night together, I started to feel somewhat on edge, and I could tell that Adam was too. For once, we seemed more inclined to go out. We'd gone out mid-afternoon on the final day, and ended up staying out for dinner and then drinks afterward (that boy never seemed to get carded). We enjoyed ourselves, and talked about all sorts of things. He hadn't said much about the university, or what he was leaning towards. If he came to my school, that would be a big thing and I didn't yet know how I would deal with it. Part of my was girding to take that huge step ... I could see being with him, and I was ashamed of my reluctance to have it be known. But I was also very aware of how young he was ... which made me a little nervous about the stigma I'd earn being with so comparatively young a man, but also guilty in another way.
Adam was gay. He'd known it for years, and confirmed it for himself with me. He was about to embark on the next stage of his life. He would come out to his family and friends, and immerse himself in the gay community wherever he ended up. It felt somehow wrong that I should then monopolize him sexually, if he were to move to my town. He should be exploring, finding someone who wasn't ten years his senior, someone who wasn't ambivalent about being in a gay relationship. I couldn't offer him that.
The unvoiced and unanswered questions say between us as the evening wore on. It was as we made our slow way back to my apartment that we finally addressed them, starting with Adam's wry statement, "I'm not coming to this university, you know."
We had been walking in silence to that point, and his sudden admission took me aback. "You're not?" I said finally.
"Nope," he said cheerfully.
"When did you decide this?"
"Before I came. I've accepted another offer already." And he named a large university on the west coast.
This all was difficult to digest, and Adam laughed at my expression. "You'd already accepted?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Then ... why did you come here?"
He glanced quickly around the dark residential street, but there was no one else around. His hand went briefly to my crotch and he gave me a squeeze. "Why do you think?"
I stopped dead. "You came here to seduce me? That was your plan all along?"
He laughed. "No, not at all. I never for once imagined that you would reciprocate my feelings. It's just ... when Doug mentioned in passing that if I were to check out the university here that I could probably stay with you, I couldn't resist that. I figured we'd just hang out, and I'd get to spend time with you. I never planned to kiss you. I just couldn't help myself."
I was silent for a long time, turning all that over in my mind while Adam regarded me with a worried expression. "You're not angry, are you?"
"No," I said honestly.
"Relieved?"
I struggled with my answer for a moment before admitting, "A little."
To my relief, Adam laughed. "I figured." He gave my hand a quick squeeze. "Don't worry, lover. I never had any intention of getting into a serious relationship with you."
"Really?"
"Of course. You're a spectacular lover, but you're not gay. I know that this was an aberration for you. And maybe it will happen again, with me or someone else, but I've seen the way you look at hot women."
He grinned, but I couldn't help but feel a little ashamed. "I'm sorry," I said lamely.
"For what? For being yourself? For letting me embark on the next stage of my life with what will probably be the best sex I'll ever have? For letting me lose my virginity to someone I love and admire? God forbid it might have been my friend Sandy! Or some hopeless groping with a skeezy guy I meet at a gay club." He stopped and turned me to look at him. "I will never forget these few days. I will always love you. And I will always be grateful for the experience. But don't think for a moment I want to date you. That would be utterly disastrous."
Again, it took me some time to form the words of my answer. "You're a remarkable young man, Adam," was what I finally said. It sounded lame, but I meant it sincerely--here I was tying myself up into knots when this not-quite-eighteen-year-old had it all figured out.
"Is that the best you can do?" he grinned.
"No," I said. "I want you so much right now it hurts."
"Yes," he whispered. "Let's hurry home. I want this last night to be memorable."
We practically ran. When I finally managed to get the door open and we were inside, he held me at arm's length. "Wait." Slapping my hands away when I reached for him, he kissed me and slipped my jacket from my shoulders and slowly started to unbutton my shirt. When my shirt joined my jacket on the floor, his hands moved to my belt. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he undressed me in my dark living room, illuminated only by the moon shining through the window. When I was completely naked, he made me sit on the couch. Standing in the moonlight, he then began to strip off his own clothes, slowly twisting and gyrating his hips. When he was naked, he took his half-hard cock in his hand and thrust his hips until it swelled and hardened. "You seemed to like this the other day when I did it for you," he whispered. Looking pointedly at my own cock, which was now hard and sticking straight up, he said, "I can you still do."
He took his hand away from his cock, and swayed his hips back and forth. I watched his cock gently bounce, mesmerized. "You want this?" he whispered.
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, I want your cock."
"Where?"
"In my mouth. I want to suck your beautiful cock."
"Where else?"
"In my ass. I want you to fuck me."
He smiled and walked forward, letting his cock hang enticingly in front of my face, but when I leaned forward he pushed me back. "Not yet," he breathed. "I want something from you first." With that he sank to his knees and leaned forward to kiss me lingeringly. His breath was still sweet from the beer he'd drunk, and his tongue gently teased mine, and licked my lips. His hands slid up the outside of my thighs, and he kissed and sucked his way down the side of my neck. I moaned and leaned my head back as his mouth paused in the hollow of my throat, and then carried on down my chest. I moaned again, louder, as his lips and tongue teased first one nipple, and then the other.
It was as if he was making love to my chest. His hands massaged my thighs, then slid up over my stomach and shoulders, finally coming to trace my lips with his fingertips. Hungrily, I sucked his fingers into my mouth as he continued licking and sucking my nipples. Then finally, after what seemed an eternity, he slid further down, passing over my cock, and pushing my thighs apart and up. I felt the tip of his tongue flutter over the sensitive skin on the bottom of my scrotum and one of his fingertips started to play with my anus.
I could feel my cock throbbing by now, and when his tongue licked up the underside of my shaft it felt for a moment as if I could cum right there and then. But somehow I didn't, and for a moment Adam paused with his mouth over the head of my cock, his tongue swirling around. As his finger slid deliciously into my ass, he slid his mouth down over my cock, and I could not help but cry out in ecstasy, resting my hands on the back of his head.
His three day apprenticeship in cocksucking had paid off. He could read my body's signs as well as I could, and every time I got close he slowed and paused. Five times--five times!--he took me to the edge and stopped, until I was practically sobbing in frustration. After the fifth time he stood and, taking me by the hand, led me into the bedroom, where he lay down and invited me to straddle his chest. "Fuck my mouth," he whispered, and I did not need any further invitation. He put his hands on my ass, urging me deeper into his mouth while I threw my head back and moaned in mindless pleasure. When I got close again, he pulled me out of his mouth and started stroking me fast and hard. "Cum on me," he pleaded. "Cum on my face."
Hearing the words put me over the edge, and I came in four huge gouts, hitting him full in the face as he moaned in appreciation. I collapsed beside him, and kissed him deeply, pausing between kisses to lick my semen off his cheeks.
"I loved that," he murmured, his tongue flicking my lips where some of my seed clung. "Since we started this, I've wanted to do a porn moment."
"Well, I think you're good to go pro if you want."
"You too," he grinned. "But really, I'd rather have you cum in my mouth. That was fun, but I do love feeling your cock explode in my mouth."
"Likewise," I said. "Speaking of ..." I circled my hand around his shaft and gave him a few slow strokes. "What would you like me to do with this?"
"What do you want to do with it?" he asked huskily, his breath catching as I smeared precum around his cockhead.
"I want to suck you," I said in his ear, and was rewarded with a shiver that ran through his body. "I want to feel your cock in my mouth, and then I want you to fuck me."
"Then what are you waiting for?" he moaned, and I immediately slid down his body until my face was beside his beautifully hard cock. I licked up his shaft, tapping the tip of my tongue against the head for a few moments, and then slowly slid my mouth down over him. I took him in my mouth slowly, savoring every last millimeter of him, opening my throat so that my nose was firmly nestled in his pubes. I held him there for a moment while he moaned, giving my head a little shake to tease his cockhead deep in my gullet, and then started to suck him slow and hard. At the top of each stroke I twisted my head slightly, corkscrewing around his cockhead, and then sucked him again back into my throat.
I'm not sure when I decided that him fucking me could wait until later. Now I wanted him to cum in my mouth. I could tell from his responses that this was going to be one of those slow builds, and I sucked him slowly and languorously while his legs stiffened and his hands came to rest on the back of my head. Either he read my mind or else my ministrations made him forget about fucking me, for he made no move to back me off when he started to get close.
"Oooohhhh fuck, baby. Oh yes. Fuck yes. God. Your mouth. Holy shit, that feels so ... oh, fuck. Yes. Right there. Right there. Right there."
Hearing the magic words I started to speed up, and felt his cock start to swell in its telltale way. This one, I sensed, was going to be big. His hands clutched at the sheets at his side in helpless pleasure. "Right there. Oh fuck, right there ... right there ... oh fuck, I'm ... yessssssss, I'm going ... oh fuck, I'm cumming!"
For one last second his cock swelled as if he were holding it in and then let loose in my mouth with a fountain of hot semen. Three, four, five big spurts, too much for me to swallow it all, and I felt it leak out to dribble down my cheek.
"My god," he gasped. And then, "I thought you wanted me to fuck you."
"I did," I said with a smile, pulling myself back up so I could kiss him. "Then I decided I wanted to taste your cum." I kissed him deeply, and felt his tongue probe searchingly in my mouth, tasting himself.
"So you've gotten bored with me fucking you?"
"Hardly, lover. The night is still young."
We kissed for a long time, our hands roving over each other's bodies. His face was sticky from when I'd cum on it, so I spent some time cleaning him with my tongue. My hand meanwhile drifted down to where his cock was stirring again, and as I kissed him I felt him get hard against my palm. His hand went to my cock as well, and so for a while we lay beside each other, kissing, stroking each other's hard shafts, pausing our kissing now and then to whisper in each other's ears.
"I love your cock," I breathed. "I love how it feels in my hand."
"I love how hard you get it."
"I love feeling you cum in my hand."
"How does it feel?"
"Hot. Hot like it's from a kettle."
"How does it taste?"
"Salty. Salty and thick and delicious."
"Do you want to fuck me?"
"Yes."
"Fuck me how?"
"Hard and slow. From behind. I want you to beg for my cock."
"I want it."
"Want what?"
"You cock. I want it. Please. I need it."
"Then say it."
"Fuck me."
"I'm sorry?"
"Fuck me."
"Say it again."
"Fuck. Me. Please."
I kissed him again, hard, and handed him the lube. Squeezing some out on his hands, he reached down and slathered my shaft, giving me a couple of short, sure strokes that made me moan in pleasure. "Now," he breathed, putting the lube aside, and rolling onto his belly. "Fuck me. Hard."
I lay on top of him nuzzling his neck and resting my cock in the cleft of his buttocks. He moaned as I slid it slowly up and down. "Oh, fuck," he whimpered. "Please."
"Please what?"
"Fuck me. Now. Please. I want it."
My cock found his asshole, and with another whimper he lifted his hips off the bed eagerly. I guided myself into his hole with my hand, sighing as my cockhead popped past his sphincter and into his tight shaft. "God in heaven," I murmured in his ear, "you are so fucking tight. You feel so good." As I spoke I slid myself inside him, and he lifted himself further off the bed to press his ass home against my cock.
"Nnnnnngggh," he said in something halfway between a grunt and a sigh. "Oh, fuck. God, you are so fucking hard. Fuck me."
I obliged, pulling back and sliding home again, twisting my hips as I thrust, my hands gripping his waist. He pulled himself onto all fours, moaning, pushing back against me when I thrust into him.
"Do you like that?" I murmured.
"I fucking love that. Harder."
I sped up my tempo, sliding in and out of him fast and hard. Reaching around I found his cock hard and leaking, but he pulled my hand away. "No," he gasped, "Saving it for your ass later." And he rammed himself down on my cock.
I fucked him harder than I ever had, and he cried out in ecstasy as I thrust faster and faster. At one point I pulled back too far and popped out of him. In a blink he was reaching back for my cock, whimpering, "Put it back put it back." I thrust back into him and he cried out again. "Harder," he pleaded, "faster."
I obliged, but gasped, "Baby, I can't keep this up much longer."
"That's OK," he moaned. "I want you to cum in me. Fuck me hard. Cum in my ass."
"Oh, fuck," I said through gritted teeth. "Oh, fuck, I'm close."
"Do it!" he said in a voice strangled with pleasure. "Cum in me. Cum in me. Cum in me."
"Nnnnngghh." I grunted, feeling my cock swell and explode inside him. I fell forward, biting his shoulder, helpless with pleasure as I felt his ass clench around my cock.
He didn't let me savor my orgasm, but immediately threw me over onto my back, pushing my legs apart. He handed me the lube and as I slicked up his deliciously hard cock, he leaned down to kiss me hard. "You want some of what you just gave me?" he demanded raggedly.
"Oh, fuck yes." My hand caressed his throbbing shaft one last time with the lube and I raised my legs. "Fuck me hard." I guided his cock to my hole, and gasped as he slid past my sphincter. "Oh ... fuck. Yes. Oh, baby. Fuck me hard."
He sat up on his knees and spread my legs wide. I felt so helpless beneath him as he pushed his cock home, so dominated, so used.
I don't think I've ever been so turned on.
He started to fuck me fast and hard while I moaned and whimpered beneath him. His cock felt like a red-hot poker inside me, each time it moved burning my nerve endings with delirious pleasure. I grabbed at the sheets on either side of me, knotting them helplessly in my fists as Adam fucked me with wild abandon, riding my ass as if I was some untamed horse. But of course unseating him was the last thing I wanted.
He reached a crescendo and started to slow, and I saw in his face the telltale signs that he was close. He slowed to a gasping pause, stilling his cock in my ass as he let himself pull back from the brink, but I didn't want that. I wanted to see him cum, so I slid my hands up his chest and pinched his nipples. "I love your cock," I said throatily, watching his face to see the effect my words had. "You're unbelievably hard. I love how you fuck me. I want you to cum, baby. Cum in my ass. And then do it again later. I want you to fuck me again before you go. Fuck me now."
Though he had stopped sliding his cock in me, he was right on the edge, and my words put him over. "Ohhhh ... fuck," he said in a strangled voice, and I felt his cock twitch and pulse, and felt him cum inside me. He collapsed on me, his cock still in my ass, and whispered reproachfully, "That wasn't fair."
"All's fair in etcetera, etcetera," I whispered back playfully. With a little laugh, be bit my neck. "I'm gonna get you back for that," he promised.
"Good. As I said, the night it still young."
Suffice to say, we didn't sleep much that night. We roused ourselves after that first magnificent fuck and showered, and Adam bent me over the faucets to fuck me again. And then back in bed, he sucked me for almost half an hour, never letting me cum, until I finally turned him around and we 69'd each other to orgasm. Then we dozed a little, and I woke to Adam's tongue teasing my cock. When he'd gotten me hard, he sat on my cock and we enjoyed the longest, slowest fuck that we'd had to date. And then just before dawn we did it again with me on all fours, and for the fourth time during his visit I came from him fucking me.
His bus left at ten in the morning. We were both amazingly fresh and awake we got to the station. I could still taste his salty, slight fishy semen from our last blowjob, given on my couch with his bag sitting packed beside us. I expected it to feel anticlimactic (so to speak), but somehow that was one of the sweetest moments we shared. Just before we left the apartment, I pushed him back on the couch and pulled his hard cock out through his zipper for one last moment of worship. His last orgasm for me, I am pleased to say, was one of the surprised ones ... not expecting me to go down on him at that moment, perhaps, or else just overcome, I wasn't sucking him for very long when he shot quite suddenly in my mouth. Oddly, of all the many moments from those three days I think about when I masturbate, that last blowjob recurs more than you'd think.
We shared our last kiss by my closed door, and said very little on the way to the station. I waited with him until he boarded, and then stood like a lovelorn fool , waving at his bus as it drove away.
There had been no tears. We would, from those three days, remain best of friends, sharing something that in many ways is beyond words (though I have tried here). We corresponded quite frequently, occasionally dirtily, and there were a handful of attempts at phone sex over the year that followed. But they were few and far between, and finally tapered off once he got a boyfriend. It was quite simply not the same.
Watching his bus drive off, I sighed. "Back to real life, I guess," I muttered to myself, and walked out to my car to go home to the empty apartment.
As a coda to this story ...
Adam came out to his family that summer, and was met with love and warmth and support. His parents, who turned out to be way more perceptive than either Doug or I, had already figured it out and were just waiting for Adam to tell them. Doug was genuinely shocked. Not upset, just surprised. I was visiting later in the summer--Adam had already decamped to university--and Doug and I sat out in our backyard as we had done so many times in the past, talking and drinking beer. I could not help sneaking the occasional glance up to the window that had been Adam's bedroom, and remember what he told me about fooling around with his friend Sandy while I sat below with Doug. The though was distracting, and arousing, and I had to shift in my seat to hide the fact that I was getting hard.
Doug, meanwhile, was voicing his surprise at Adam's revelation of over a month before. "I would never have guessed," he said ruefully. "There was nothing about him that suggested he was gay. He never had a girlfriend, sure, but I just figured he was a late bloomer."
"It's sometimes like that," I said philosophically. "Trouble is, we're so glutted with gay stereotypes on TV and movies that when someone like Adam comes along, we don't think twice."
He nodded sagely. "It does make me look at things a bit differently when I think about the past now."
"How do you mean?"
"Well ... like I said, he never had a girlfriend. And he had that friend Sandy he always hung out with in his room. Think they were ... you know?"
"I try not to think about it," I replied, trying not to smile.
"And then there's you."
"What about me?" I asked warily.
"Oh, come on ... he always worshipped you. It's pretty obvious now that he had a massive crush on you."
"I suppose," said noncommittally.
"You suppose," he scoffed. "Dude, think about it. He was totally into you." He shook his head. "If I'd known what I know now when he was checking out universities, I wouldn't have suggested he stay with you. That must have been torture for him--staying in the same space as you, not able to do anything."
I smiled. "Perhaps."
Doug's face turned slightly troubled. "I mean ... he didn't ... you know, try anything, did he?"
I laughed out loud, unable to help myself. I laughed for a long time, while Doug's uneasiness turned into a grin. "Of course not," he said. "Sorry. Stupid question."
When my laughter subsided, I said, "Don't worry. Adam was lovely. That was ... a perfect three days."
When Doug got up to fetch us more beer, I silently toasted Adam's bedroom window. A perfect three days, indeed.
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, and want more, please let me know at damon9888@hotmail.com