The front of the loose flannel shirt was now open. And even though he still had a t-shirt layer underneath, Mickey already felt naked as the warms hands now reached inside.
"Oh...' Mickey exhaled as Drew's hands wrapped around him and gently stroked his torso. The hands moved further in each direction as his thumbs stretched slightly across in the other direction until they reached his quickly hardening nipples.
"Oh...oh...' he could only repeat.
"You like that?" Drew asked, unrelenting in his motion.
Mickey's mouth was dry but he pushed out that one important syllable. "...yes...yes..."
Neither of them notice Daisy's confused stare.
Drew bent over and kissed him before grabbing a handful of t-shirt and suddenly, with one powerful tug, pulling it completely out of his pants on all sides. Mickey gulped.
He had felt Drew's hands before, of course. From necking on Drew's couch he knew (and was always turned on by) their obvious strength and power. `Damn, is he strong!' Mickey would remark to himself. But he was unprepared for how gentle and light they could be, too, as he reached underneath Mickey's now stretched T-shirt and alternately gripped and caressed his skin.
"Wow, this is hard! I like it," Drew said, feeling the gentle folds of Mickey's abs as his probing fingers explored the region from the belt to his neck.
"Now, let's actually see what's underneath here," he declared, the formerly probing hands retreating back down. Just as they escaped the confines of the shirt Drew used then to gently tease the belt buckle, drawing an involuntary thrust from Mickey's hips.
He loudly exhaled at the prodding, but before Mickey could get another breath Drew had pulled the flannel shirt wide open and gently pushed it back over his shoulders. It took Mickey another few seconds to take in some more air.
As his tummy sucked in, Mickey thrust out his chest and he pulled back his shoulders, allowing the shirt drop to drop to the ground. It looked like Drew's mouth briefly came open, but quickly closed as Mickey's chest recoiled to a normal posture.
Taking the damaged face in his hands, Drew started with a gentle kiss. But just as it felt like he was going to be soft and tender caress, suddenly his tongue shot deep into Mickey's mouth.
`Wow!' Mickey thought to himself.
While their tongues wrestled, Mickey again felt Drew's powerful grip on his t-shirt as it was suddenly being pulled up to his shoulders. Both his hands quickly shot up, allowing the shirt easy passage, while at the same time looking almost like a surrender posture.
Pulling apart for a moment, they were both breathing heavily. Drew looked him in the eyes, gave him another quick kiss, then jerked the shirt over Mickeys head in one deft, quick move.
It landed on Daisy's head, but she just shook it off and then continued her gaze.
There was hardly a sound in the room and neither could hear anything but the other's breath.
As his whole being focused on Drew, he couldn't help noticing that the flames from the fire were reflected in his beautiful blue eyes. Mickey froze. Not because of his phobia, but in spite of it. Those eyes were now the most entrancing thing that he had ever seen, the flames dancing around the edge of the shiny, curved surface. The power was irresistible.
Somehow, his fears seemed to just melt away. In fact, they had when he first walked in the door.
But if his eyes were sending one message, the lips were sending another. As the tongue slowly traced a path from one edge to the other, it looked more like a wolf hungry for its next meal. Behind the flames, the eyes scanned Mickey up and down while his hands explored the curves and crevices of his hard, slim body.
"You are so fucking beautiful," Drew said, his now eyes locked on Mickey's. He bent over and kissed him again, barely grazing his lips.
Mickey was still almost frozen, his arms slowly rising up to grip Drew's arms, as much to get support as to do his own exploration of Drew's tantalizing body.
Pulling their chests together, Drew's fingers reached around and dug into the taught muscles that covered Mickey's back. The digits performed a deep message as they encountered each individual cord, something going back and forth, then other times spiraling in on knots or tense spots that seemed to require attention.
"That feels soooo good," Mickey whispered, his head rolling back, his own hands trying to do the same to Drew's broad shoulders.
After testing practically every muscle on his back, Drew's hands slipped down and briefly dipped behind Mickey's belt before withdrawing and moving up to his chest. The time spent in the gym was apparent in the clear definition of the muscles, which didn't need to be huge to appear and feel prominent and defined on his slim frame.
With fingers spread wide, Drew captured both of Mickey's defined pecs in his quarterback's grip, examining their strength and size. Instinctively, Mickey flexed them against the pressure, challenging Drew to test them again.
"These are tough...really tough" Drew said, as he felt the thick plate tense up again.
Mickey grunted in resistance, reveling in the contest as he again thrust out his chest. The sensation of the contact was almost too much, as his moist pants told him that the precum was now dripping like a faucet.
Suddenly, the hands were gone from his chest, replaced by a wet mouth that quickly attached itself to his right nipple, alternately sucking and nipping at it.
"Damn!" Drew sputtered out between desperate breaths, trying to gulp as much air as possible before diving in again and attaching himself to the stiffening red flesh.
Mickey was always a bit self-conscious about his nipples in the locker room. They were usually the largest and reddest in the room, and sat conspicuously on edge of his defined pecs. But in this moment, he knew that they could never be big enough for Drew as his ravenous mouth attacked them, one after the other.
As Mickey returned the favor and pushed his chest hard into Drew's face, the reaction and pressure were almost violent as Drew responded with even greater force, forcing open his mouth almost painfully wide open to drive in and swallow as much nipple and pec as he could possible hold in his mouth.
They both stumbled from the mutual onslaught, with Mickey almost falling backward over himself.
"Oh, my gosh! Are you OK?!" Drew said, catching Mickey in his powerful grip to keep him upright.
"Get rid of this now!" Mickey responded as he reached back over and practically tore Drew's shirt off.
"Oh please, not again!" Mickey pleaded. "I've already come four times. My poor little dick hurts so bad!"
"Little! I'd hardly call that little," Drew retorted, reaching over and squeezing the now limp member.
"What is it about this younger generation, anyway?" he mused. "They don't' seem to have any stamina. A couple of orgasms and they feel like they're drained!"
"I'm only a month younger than you!" Mickey protested.
"Maybe you don't have the oomph, but I think that this big guy does," Drew said as he continued fondling Mickey's still flaccid dick with his fingers. "I just had my fifth, and I know there's a lot more in here than what's on these," he said, reaching over and clutching a handful of stiff and crusty bed sheet.
"By the way, what time is it," Drew asked. But before Mickey could answer, Drew had quickly crawled over his body and kissed him. The tongue, for what must have been the nth time that night, once again penetrating deep into his mouth.
Mickey faked a guttural response, like he was choking and couldn't answer. After a quick withdrawal, he laughed, then looked at the nightstand in what was considered the master bedroom of the house.
"Wow. It's 2:30 a.m.," he proclaimed. "The night is young!"
Mickey's head dropped back on the pillow in mock despair.
`God, what an evening!' he thought to himself. Drew – DREW! He was lying naked on top of him! This total perfect hunk of man flesh. What did he like best about him? The huge arms, from bicep to wrist? The thick matt of blond hair on his chest? The beer-can between his legs? He could go on and on.
Surprisingly, one of the things about Drew's body that most turned him on were the powerful thighs.
To feel those huge, meaty muscles strain and flex against his own as they wrestled was an uncontrollable dick hardener. Drew was still pretty lean himself, at least for a big guy, and some veins were apparent across the taught surface when they were dueling with Mickey own smaller but still powerful muscles. And when their legs were intertwined, the slick surfaces gliding against each other and their dicks were touching ... perfection! Heaven.
He felt another tingle down there.
Mickey was rocked out of his daydream by the feel of Drew's tongue on his face. Whenever he licked the scared side, it actually tickled a bit.
"Mmmm," Drew moaned between long, wet drags across Mickey's cheek, "I think that I've licked your complete body at least twice tonight. Maybe I should start again, he said. "You know, after they paint the entire Golden Gate Bridge, they need to start over again at the other end. I think that I need to do that, too."
Mickey giggled. "That's OK with me," he said as he laid back on the bed, offering himself up for whatever was on Drew's mind.
"But there's another way to get you to cum, too, and I think that it might be quicker," he said as he moved himself down Mickey's prone body, pushing the legs apart and planting himself between them as he held a thick, flexing thigh muscle in each hand.
Mickey shuttered. "Oh no you don't!" he yelled. He quickly tried to pull himself up in the bed, but before his legs could move, Drew's mouth was attached to his cock.
"You...fucker!" he whispered as his hands grabbed clumps of bedsheet and his head rolling back on the pillow. "Stop...stop...now," he pleaded as the hands suddenly grabbed Drew's head, the fingers desperately running through his hair.
Drew ignored the protests, continuing his assault on Mickey's now quickly hardening cock. His own hands had moved onto Mickey's hips, pressing them firmly to the mattress, keeping the crotch open and vulnerable.
"Oh...you bastard..." was all Mickey could say as his body writhed and squirmed in half-hearted but futile effort at escape.
After he had made sure the Mickey was not going to wriggle away, his probing hands moved up and onto Mickey's pecs, the knuckles bearing down on the exposed and already erect and worked-over nipples.
Coherent words no longer came out of his mouth, only bestial grunts and moans as he mindlessly ravaged Drew's hair. The most articulate guy in the room was completely speechless.
Mickey was thinking that he might yet again regret showing Drew the only `toy' he had brought, in hopeful anticipation - a bottle of baby oil. It didn't take long for his sexually precocious partner to figure out a way to put it into his newly created arsenal of erotic weapons. Without any prodding or clues from Mickey, he had even used it slick up his finger and poke Mickey's asshole, sending him to the monster fourth orgasm that seemed to drain all the cum that he thought he could ever produce for the rest of his life.
Sure enough, after only a couple minutes of the dick-hardening blow job, Drew pulled his mouth off and reached for the bottle.
"No! No!" Mickey cried out, his hand flopping back to the mattress.
"Yes, yes! Drew replied, throwing the top onto the floor and allowing the entire contents to splash onto Mickeys now hard member and stiff ball sack.
"No...no...no..." Mickey pleaded, his voice rapidly weakening.
Before Mickey could even attempt to push himself away, Drew's right hand wrapped itself completely around the middle of the shaft, while his right hand captured the nut sack.
He couldn't help but push his hips desperately into Drew's inflexible grip. The cum churned as his loins flexed uncontrollably. Everything was a blur, except for the piston-like jerking of his cock and the fingers digging into his balls. The breaths were deep and frantic.
Finally, he erupted in a geyser that was the biggest of the night, the juice shooting almost a foot in the air and landing all over his chest and even up to his neck.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" he cried out, as Drew continued his relentless assault on his cock and balls, not letting up even after the first big fountains of cum shot out of his shaking and trembling body.
But with one last, sharp pulse of his hips, Mickey's whole body finally collapsed back onto the bed.
Drew slowly pulled himself to the side of the spent carcass next to him, leaning over and kissing Mickey gently on the lips. "Looks like you really did have a bit more juice in you," he said, scraping the cum from Mickey's body and rubbing into his own chest.
In spite of his catatonic state, Mickey's hips gave a slight, involuntary twitch at the site of his cum being rubbed into the curly blond chest hair.
Drew glanced down Mickey's stretched-out body and smiled. "It looks like there might be even more of that stuff in there, huh?" he asked. "It looks like our friend here wouldn't mind another shot or two, yes?"
Mickey pulled him back down, put his hand on both sides of Drew's face, and gave him a deep kiss. "I think someone else may need some attention first," he said as their lips parted.
Reaching Drew's dick with his left hand, he flexed his own right arm, pumping up the defined, baseball bicep that seemed to mesmerize Drew all night. Looking at the bulging muscle, Mickey couldn't help but notice the redness and slight teeth marks on it and knew what it did to Drew.
"Damn you!" was all he could say as the hungry mouth lunged at the rock-hard mound of pulsing flesh
After they had more than exhausting each other, Mickey and Drew just lay together, each of them now truly spent. For the longest time, neither spoke as Mickey's head rested on Drew's chest. He could feel the movement of each breath.
Mickey finally turned over and dropped his head on a pillow at the edge of the bed. Looking up at the timber ceiling of the room, he couldn't help but think back at what he had imagined as preludes to this evening.
"You know what," he started. "I guess I really was attracted to you for a long time. Not that I was completely conscious of how much, of course. But thoughts, or wishes, would cross my mind. Stuff that I wouldn't have thought of if I hadn't had some kind of physical feelings or attractions, I think."
"What do you mean?" Drew asked, propping himself up on his elbow as he glanced over at him before adjusting the stained sheets around him. Mickey's eyes didn't move, just continued their focus on the ceiling.
"You'll think this is weird, or maybe just the epitome of wishful thinking. I'm almost embarrassed to say it, but I guess I feel like I can tell you now," he declared before casting an embarrassed glance at Drew.
"Yes, of course, go ahead. I want to hear it."
"OK," Mickey replied as he rolled over and faced him.
"Do you remember the time that I was out for a jog and came across all of you guys at that picnic? It wasn't that long after I met you."
"Yes, of course. I remember it."
"Well, when we were standing there talking, I couldn't help but think that you were checking me out," he said with a nervous giggle. "It seemed like you were scanning my body as I talked, looking me over in some weird way. I thought that maybe I had left my zipper down or something like that, but then I realized that my shorts didn't even have a zipper. So I guess I thought that, you know, I must be imagining it or something."
"Uh huh," Drew replied, with one of those neither yes-nor-no responses.
"Then there was another time, when we were playing basketball. It was after you had blocked that asshole Dave who almost landed on me," he continued. "After the crash you could barely stand, so I tried to help you to the bench. You had grabbed onto me to try to stabilize yourself, which I could totally understand. But your grip on my arm was pretty tight and I had thought for second that you were feeling up my muscles. It was like whenever my bicep flexed, is almost seemed like you were squeezing down on it." Mickey said.
"Kind of wishful thinking, huh? Mickey asked with a lightness that made the question seem not serious at all.
Suddenly, the bed shook. Drew had grabbed a pillow while quickly rolling over away from Mickey and pulling the sheets over his head.
Mickey did a double-take, not sure what was happening before he moved onto his knees and peered over Drew's body, talking through the thin sheet that he had shielded himself with.
"Drew?"
No sound.
"Drew? Can you hear me?
"No, I can't hear you!" he pleaded.
Mickey pushed his face up to where he thought was Drew's left ear. "So...you WERE actually checking me out, weren't you?"
There was silence only breathing. "I take the Fifth!" he heard, Drew's voice slightly muffled from the pillow that he had now pulled over his head.
"And when I was innocently trying to help you, my reward was to be felt up like some kind of cheap French whore!?" he countered, gently tugging on the covers.
Quickly emerging and jerking up his head up for only an instant, Drew shot back. "I never said you were cheap or French!" before quickly pulling the covers back over himself.
"Hmmm..." Mickey replied. "Maybe a certain sexual predator needs to be taught a lesson about abusing innocent youth," he whispered as his hand snaked under the sheet, working its way over Drew's leg until he found a hard certain hard piece of flesh.
`Christ, does it ever get soft!' he said to himself.
Again speaking into the sheet, he said, "I think we may have to do something about this."
"Please do!" Drew responded, rolling over and again giving Mickey a long, deep kiss.
"Do you think we've got everything?" Mickey asked. Looking through the open door into the back seat, he counted Drew's bags, then Daisy's chew toys and leashes, and finally his own collection of bags and boxes.
"Let's make one last round of the house just to be sure," Drew said, tugging on Mickey's belt loop as he motioned toward the house.
Checking out the master suite, Mickey looked around the bedroom, including getting down on his knees to see if anything had found its way under the bed. At the same time, Drew was going through the drawers and cabinets in the bathroom.
While Drew was busy searching, Mickey's eye was caught by the morning light streaming into the hallways from the large room at the end of the hall. Even though they used the master suite, he was really engaged by the voluminous space and wanted to check it out one last time before they left.
There was not need to go in. He liked the view just as one entered, where everything in the space was visible. Under a colorful carved wooden fish that crowned the doorway, he leaned against the jamb and stared at the tableau of bunk beds and tiny writing desks that were crammed into the space.
"What is it about this room that you like," Drew said as he approached, his hand on Mickey's shoulder.
Mickey exhaled. "I know I'm getting ahead of myself a little bit," he said. "But I can't help think of having kids here. I'll bet that they'll love this room! They would have so much fun! I mean, this whole house, and what's outside," he proclaimed, nodding toward the large, arched window at the end of the room with a view of the lake shore beyond.
"When my mom was alive it was so cool. We'd have this place packed with people, and staying in the dorm was the best part, at least when it was crowded. You're right. It's really a great place for kids."
"One time when I was little, one of my distant cousins and I were grounded for something. I can't remember what. But, anyway," he continued, "we snuck out the window and went down to the lake and swam and tried to catch fish in the dark," he said, a wide grin plastered on his face.
"How did you get down to the ground? It's like probably like a 15 foot drop from the window sill!"
"Just like in the movies! `We tied a couple of our sheets together, and, voilà – The Great Escape!"
"We'll need to be on the lookout for that kind of behavior," Mickey replied, laughing. "I'd say `sheetless beds. And lots of small blankets that they couldn't tie together.' But they're kids. They'll find a way."
"That's right - `do as I say and not as I do' - will be more like it," Drew replied.
As they retreated downstairs to return to the car, they passed the long-extinguished fireplace, Mickey paused.
"Is anything wrong?" Drew asked.
"No...nothing at all...um..."
"What?"
Mickey wasn't exactly sure what he wanted to say. But then turned to Drew.
"The fire was on intentionally when we got here, wasn't it? I mean, I know that the house has propane heat, too. You could have used that instead. But you had a roaring fire going when we got here."
Drew looked at Mickey, then back at the fireplace. The wood floor creaked as Drew shuffled his feet.
"You're right. I did. I mean, maybe I shouldn't have done that. I know that fire is something that you struggle with, and for good reason," he said, still not looking at Mickey. "But I felt like this is really going to torture you for the rest of your life, and keep you from enjoying things that you might really like. Maybe it wasn't my place, but I thought that I'd try to do something."
"Maybe that's just what has to be, and I understand, but I wanted to try...," he continued, his voice trailing off, before he looked down at the floor again.
"I thought that maybe if you felt so welcome here, such a part of the place, that maybe it would help you to see what a good thing it could be, too. That it's not just...hurt, but it can just be like a sign of warmth, and welcome, too. And it can really make a nice atmosphere, and good memories."
"I tried to keep a bit ahead of you when we first walked in, just to screen the flames a bit, at least as much as I could. I wasn't sure it did any good, since I knew that you wouldn't complain in either case," he said. Then his eyes met Mickey's.
"I have to tell you, Mickey. I think I could tell that maybe you've gotten over a bit of a hump with this. You seemed to enjoy the room, and didn't flinch a bit, which I've noticed even with flames from stovetops."
"But if you don't really feel that way, I mean, we can take care of it the next time we come down. I don't mind either way. I just want you here, that's all. And I want you to enjoy it as much as you can."
"I don't...know...what to say..." Mickey replied. "I...," he tried to continue, but instead snagged Drew's collar with his finger and pulled them together into a kiss.