Mike

Based on a true relationship. Comments welcome.

Copyright 2008, richard@surfeit-verdure.com

The splash of sunlight playing across the sheets warmed our bodies as we lay in silence enjoying the feelings spreading from our spent cocks. Mike's hand rested on my shoulder. I could have stayed there forever, listening to his slow breathing and wallowing in his scent. Unfortunately it wasn't to be.

"Gotta piss."

Mike kicked the sheets off, hiked up his boxers, and headed for the bathroom. I watched his magnificent ass disappear through the door. Laying there for a few minutes more I heard his stream splashing into the toilet. I sighed, then kicked the dirty sheets off my own naked body.

The bathroom door was closed. I could hear Mike brushing his teeth. Turning the knob, I swung the door open carefully, knowing that he was probably right behind it.

"Hey, occupied." said Mike, only half jokingly.

"Should have thought of that when you were buying a one-bathroom house. I gotta go too."

Mike stood aside, letting the door swing the rest of the way open. He was still in his tattered boxers. I knew that he still wasn't comfortable being around someone else - particularly since he'd gotten his rocks off - so I didn't want to push it. I just wanted him to understand that I was comfortable with him.

I really did have to go at that point, so I squeezed behind Mike and took aim at the toilet. Mike continued brushing his teeth, but kept glancing down as I disposed of the previous night's beer.

Mike spit loudly in the sink and rubbed his mouth on the back of his fur-covered arm.

"Gonna take a shower." he announced.

Turning away from me toward the door he dropped his boxers and kicked them into the corner. Sliding behind me, his dick to the wall, he stepped into the shower and slid the door shut. The diffused shape behind the soap scum covered glass fiddled with the valves and water splashed against the tiles.

I stood in front of the mirror looking at my own body. A rail-thin torso on top of ridiculously long legs. My cock nestled contentedly in its fur, job done for now.

I watched the shape behind the glass massaging soap over the ample curves of bulky arms, pecs, and protruding belly.

Opposites do attract.

Mike tugged briefly on his dick, slicking it with soap before sliding a hand through his ass crack.

I turned back to the mirror and took a swig of Mike's mouthwash. Spitting it into the sink, I ran out of plausible reasons to stand there and watch him shower. Mike showed no signs of being done, so I reluctantly swung the door open and walked back into his room.

The smell was warm and musky. The sun was drying the twin puddles of cum on the dirty sheets, adding their fresh note to the air. I looked through the clutter, trying not to snoop. At least not too obviously.

Mike's possessions were minimal. A few magazines lay on largely empty shelves. Most were related to football or hockey. Empty beer and pop cans sat on the desk. Clothes scattered the floor. Mike had always appeared to be a basic and honest guy. It was refreshing to see it reflected in his private life. Simple artifacts he'd never expected someone else to see.

The roar of the shower subsided. A few moment's later Mike emerged with a faded blue towel around his waist.

"All yours. Towels are in the dryer."

I felt a sense of loss as the warm rain from the shower washed away the scent and feel of Mike from my skin. My mind replayed the scenes from the last couple of days as I absentmindedly rubbed soap around my balls and down my still soft cock. Sliding a hand down my crack, I ringed the hole with a slippery finger, visualizing Mike's tongue taking its place.

Mike wasn't in his room when I emerged from the steam wrapped in a towel. I found my shorts and undershirt and walked to the living room to find him.

"My boss called. I've got some OT on one of our jobs today." said Mike, already dressed in his construction gear.

My heart sank. I hadn't really planned anything specific to do with him, but now it seemed like critical time was being taken away.

"That sucks. Do you have to go?"

"Yeah. Hey, it's money. I should be done by 4. We can catch up for dinner or something."

"Sure. Why don't you come by my place when you're done? I'll dig something up." I said trying not to sound desperate.

"Cool. Lock up when you leave."

With a slam of the door he was gone. I walked back into his room. The sun had shifted off the bed and now played across the floor. I gave into temptation and picked up his stained white T-shirt from the floor and buried my nose in it. The fresh smell of sweat from the previous day had mellowed to a musky blend of Mike and smoke.

I put down the shirt regretfully and went to gather my own clothes from the living room.

My own house smelled stale and empty as I dropped my cloths on top of the washer and closed the door to the garage behind me.

I felt like an idiot kid waiting for a date. I cleaned the house - though I knew Mike wouldn't give a damn if it was dirty. I prepped everything for dinner. I starred at the television, not seeing a thing on the screen. Most of all, I hounded the clock waiting for four.

My cock strained against my shorts. I desperately wanted to jack off, but wasn't about to cum till I could do it with Mike. A running porn video played in my head. My nose buried in his pubic hair. Diving into his furry hole with my tongue. His fat cock muscling its way into my ass. A dark spot of pre-cum soaked through the denim over my crotch.

Four came and went. By four thirty I'd given up any pretense of nonchalance and stood in the garage looking out the open door. An engine growled in the distance, approaching. I made myself busy organizing containers of used motor oil next to the trash cans as Mike pulled into the driveway.

"Fuck that day sucked." he said, slamming the door of his company truck.

His shirt and cargo shorts where streaked with dirt and sawdust. The sweat stains below his pits and over his belly were dark with dust. Mud clung to his boots.

"Sorry to hear it. Should have stayed here with me." I joked.

"You wanna make my house payments too?"

"Enough trouble with my own, thanks. Come in."

The garage door rattled down behind us.

"I figured we'd have steaks if that's ok with you."

"Sure. Can I borrow your shower?"

Damn. The last thing I wanted was for him to wash that smell off. Well, I had to tell him some time.

"You can, but don't bother. Just kick your boots off out here."

"Nah. I fucking reek."

"Tell you the truth Mike, I love the way you smell."

"You are a sick fucker."

"Yes I am. You smell like a man, and that makes my dick hard as a rock.

You may decide down the road that you like it too, but if you'd do it for me today I'd appreciate it."

"Whatever. That's fucking weird though dude."

"Heh. There's nothing wrong with weird. Remember what I told you about asking for what you want during sex? Well, there's a lot of stuff you can do that's a lot off fun that you may not have even thought of. All I'd ask is that you try it. All you ever have to do is tell me you don't like it."

Mike's crotch was tenting out.

"Looks like at least part of you is willing to give it a shot." I said, cupping his balls through the denim.

"Guess it can't hurt."

Silence lapsed. I continued to massage his balls and rub his cock through the fabric. Mike's eyes dropped from mine.

"Fuck dude. Keep that up and I'll try anything you want."

"How about I light the grill instead, and we'll pick this up inside?"

"Heh. Ok. I gotta piss. Can I at least do that?" smirked Mike.

"Be my guest. Upstairs on the right."

Mike kicked off his muddy boots and made a dash for the door into the house. I kicked on the propane and left the grill to heat.

I was prepping the steaks in the kitchen when Mike emerged from the bathroom.

"Nice meat"

"Thanks. You too."

Mike rested his hands on my shoulders, taking me by surprise. He was standing close behind me, and I could feel the heat radiating from him. His smell was of fresh sweat and male.

"I wanted to say thanks again for all of this."

"You're welcome to come over for dinner any time." I said, knowing it wasn't what he meant.

"Not that. Today felt so strange. Like I was a different guy. Like I suddenly weighted 50 pounds less."

My heart somersaulted. I turned so I could look at his eyes. They quickly dropped.

"I think that had more to do with you than it did with me, but it's exactly what I hoped you'd feel. You've made me feel like that since we first met."

Mike continued to look down at his feet, so I took pity on him and turned back to the steaks.

"And don't lose 50 pounds. I like your ass the way it is."

Mike smacked the back of my head.

"You got beer?"

"Yeah, I restocked today. In the fridge."

Mike rummaged while I put the steaks on the grill. By the time I got back he was lounging on the couch trying to figure out the remotes.

"I know you're an engineer, but did you have to make this so complicated?"

"Power button on the black one. Guide button on the white one. Then it's the arrow keys."

I plopped down next to him and put my arm over his neck. This time he immediately reciprocated, stabbing at the remote buttons with his left hand. Hockey pre-season highlights flickered across the screen as his fingers rubbed my shoulder lightly.

We sat in contented silence for a few minutes till the kitchen timer buzzed insistently.

"Meat's ready. "

"Your meat is always ready" joked Mike.

"Damn right."

The meal was a blur. I just remember sitting close to Mike in silence, feeling utterly comfortable with him, and for the first time, feeling his comfort with me.

My reverie was broken by a loud belch and Mike's plate being slid across the coffee table.

"That was good."

My steak was only about half gone, and I was stuffed.

"Want the rest of mine?"

Mike slid his plate back and forked the meat onto it. In another two minutes it was gone.

"Thanks."

I picked up the plates and empty beer bottles. Mike had slouched down and put his feet on the table by the time I got back. I matched his position, my arm back across his shoulders.

We sat there for 20 or 30 minutes, half watching television, enjoying each other's presence.

Mike lifted his arm off my shoulder to scratch his beard. Rather than returning it, he lay his hand down on my leg and began rubbing the fabric over my crotch. My dick instantly jumped to attention. I desperately wanted to reciprocate, but also wanted to see what Mike would do.

He continued to stare at the screen with occasional glances down to his hand as it kneaded my cock inside its fabric prison. After a few seconds he slid up to the button at the top of my fly and popped it free. His hand slid under the waistband, driving the zipper down. My dripping cock was engulfed in the rough warmth of his hand.

I abandoned my observations and fumbled with the buttons on his shorts. The zipper followed, only to be stopped by those damn boxer shorts again.

"We gotta talk about your choice in underwear. These are just inconvenient." I joked.

Mike snorted and withdrew his hand from my crotch long enough to slide the boxers down a few inches. His own dick was jutting proudly from its lair of fur. I slid my own shorts down. His hand quickly found my balls and began gently tugging and rubbing them.

I cupped his own egg-like set and gently stretched them against the hair-covered sack. Setting them down, I rubbed my fingers through his mane, then brought them to my nose. The smell was intense and intoxicating.

Mike watched me enjoying his scent, then shrugged.

"You really like that?"

"Fuck yes."

He didn't respond, but his dick jumped. We continued our mutual exploration and masturbation in silence.

"We keep this up and I'm going to blow." said Mike.

"That would be a shame this early."

I gave his dick a final squeeze and put my arm back across his shoulders. Mike paused, then did the same.

We lay there in the glow of the screen, our dicks slowly softening.

Ten or 15 minutes passed. Mike silently lifted his arm and returned to my crotch, teasing my cock back to life. His slow tugs were lubricated by pre-cum and he began stroking the shaft. My sack began to retreat, pulling my balls tight. Mike's hand slipped off the tip and returned to my shoulder as silently as it had come.

I reached down to return the favor. Rubbing the fur around the base of his cock quickly brought the beer can to attention. Sliding the loose skin slowly toward the tip milked out a clear drop. A tighter grip pulled the skin on his head taut. The drop grew, then trickled down the shaft.

Mike's breathing became shorter as the bulk of his penis slid in and out of my hand. Soon his own massive balls bumped against me on each stroke. He inhaled sharply as a slid off him, pre-cum trailing between us.

Our red and engorged cocks resisted, but slowly returned to half mast.

Another 30 minutes passed before Mike's fat thumb pinned my cock head against his fingers and tugged it upright. His paw slid slowly up and down my length. The throbbing head swelling and flaring nearly purple just before it vanished into his fist on each stroke.

I felt the enormous pressure of my cum welling up. Suddenly, the buzzing length of my cock was left hanging in the cool air as Mike's hand returned to my shoulder.

Nearly panting, I willed the cum to hold back. After a few seconds the pressure faded to an insistent tension in my thighs. My ass tingled and clenched.

Grabbing Mike's cock I stretched it skyward as it slid through my hand. Letting go, I spit once in my hand and stretched it again. His leg shook as the head popped free. I turned to his balls, tugging them down. Cupping them, I pressed against the edge of Mike's taint. His dick jumped and his leg shook again. A groan escaped him as he exhaled hard. His shaft was dripping with pre-cum now, and slid easily. After a few more minutes his hand clenched my shoulder and I released him. His slicked cock jumped in time with his heartbeat.

We were both in beautiful agony. Our chaffed shafts hummed. I don't think either of us could have touched our cocks without spraying immediately.

Neither of us seemed ready to end this brinksmanship contest, but we both knew we were near our limits.

Evening had turned to night before I felt Mike's hand again. This time he only had to run my dick through his fist once before it was fully stiff. He spit hard onto his hand and wrapped around my shaft. The warm slime glided against my tightly stretched skin. His vice-like grip stretched me on each pull. My vision tunneled. The ache in my thighs and balls seemed to turn into a stream of molten metal as it filled my cock. Wave after wave of cum splashed onto my shirt. Mike continued to milk me. Each stroke caused an involuntary shudder through my entire body.

Still laying in silence, Mike released my softening cock and rubbed the spit and cum from his hand onto his shorts.

"Fuck" I panted.

Mike smiled. A real one this time, rather than his usual smirk.

"Your turn. I've got to taste you again. Stand up."

Mike lumbered to his feet, his cock swinging. I dropped to my knees in front of him, tugging his shorts and boxers down to his ankles. Grabbing his bulging balls with my left hand I gently stretched them down while diving onto his dick. The subtle taste of salt from his sweat mingled with the funk from his bush of pubic hair.

"Uhhhggg" groaned Mike, his hand on the back of my head.

Releasing his balls, I slid off his cock long enough to lick my index finger. Spreading is ass cheeks with both hands I slid my lubed finger through the thicket of hair carpeting his crack. As I touched the rosebud inside, Mike's ass clenched.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed.

"Give it a try. I promise I won't stick you." I said, sliding off his cock.

Mike's ass slowly and fitfully relaxed as I slid back onto his dick and probed his piss slit. Once he had calmed down I began circling his hole with my finger. The thick hair formed a ring around the pucker. The outer radius was tough and dry. Tightening in on the target the skin became smooth and rubbery with a natural slickness.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuckk." babbled Mike under his breath.

Sliding all the way on, my nose slapped into the curve of his lower belly. The smell of his manhood acted like a drug on my reeling brain. A shot of warmth splashed against the back of my throat.

Inside his ass, Mike's leather ring clamped onto the tip of my probing finger. I held it perfectly still as the muscles gripped and released it in waves of pleasure.

Around front, I slid back till Mike's corona butted into my lips. His waves of cum splashed over my tongue and filled my mouth. The warm salty taste was ecstasy.

Mike shook with each shot. They slowed, then ended with one last convulsion through his entire body. I slid off his cock and gently slipped my fingers from his ass crack. Swallowing, I felt his load slither down my throat.

I looked up at Mike. His head was tilted back toward the ceiling and his eyes were closed. His hand still rested on the back of my head. His breaths came in short gasps. His legs shook.

I stood, bringing us nearly eye to eye. Mike tipped his head forward and our gazes locked. His hand dropped to my upper back. Time stopped.

Suddenly he leaned forward and locked his lips to mine. I opened my mouth and his tongue shot in. His arms crushed me against his body. Our spend cocks ground together. His warm tongue probed for traces of his cum. Withdrawing for a moment, I charged into his waiting mouth. We wrestled for what seemed like a lifetime before breaking off.

Mike still held me in a bear hug against his bulk. Our faces were inches apart.

"You're fucking awesome."

Rather than answering, I just dived back into his open lips. Mike sagged against the wall behind him as our bodies merged into one.