This story contains graphic descriptions of adult male to male gay sex. If this offends you or it is illegal for you to read this topic, please leave this site.
Summer Morning Rain
It was Saturday morning. I'd slept in, and the normal bright morning light of the summer morning wasn't streaming into the bedroom. Instead, I heard the strong splash of rain outside in the garden and on the deck. Wet mixed with the smell of the roses and the honeysuckle, seeping into the room through the window, as I slowly came to life. The sheet felt good over me, warm and soft, against my chest.
He was next to me, as he most always is when I wake up. Except the days he needs to get to work early, and then I hear him softly in the kitchen, making coffee and breakfast, and slipping out the door to get the morning paper. And, on those days, he slips back into the bedroom, with my steaming cup of coffee, and silently sets it on the nightstand. If I'm not awake, the aroma of the thick French roast will soon rouse me to life.
But, not today. The coffee's not made yet, and I feel the heat from him next to me, and I hear him breathing, quiet and deep, the sheet rising and falling over his thick, muscled chest. Except for the rain, it is quiet and his breath is the only drumbeat in my ears. He must know I'm awake now, for I feel his hand moving, touching me. Strong, calloused fingers now on my chest, warm against my skin, rubbing my nipple, pulling lightly against the hairs, feeling solid on me. I almost fall back asleep, feeling him, my burly lover, knowing he is next to me, touching me, caring for me.
Yet, his touch sends a current through me, my nipple hardens, I gasp, and I feel my balls rising a bit in their loose sack, my cock thickens a bit, just from the touch of his fingers across my nipple, and the weight of his warm hand against my chest. He says nothing and I just lie here, taking in the moment, feeling his touch, his warmth, feeling the blood move into my cock, knowing that we will make love this morning, slowly, effortlessly, almost silently. No words are needed, no words are welcome here, as his hand and then his furry hard chest and hard arms and stiffened cock, throbbing and damp against me, will tell me all I want to know. And, his bearded lips and hungry tongue will soon find me, and I will respond and hold him in my arms, wanting him.
And he will know my hunger, and I will know his, and I will welcome his dripping manhood hard against my belly and then against my balls, drawn up under my eager cock. And I will open my thighs and take him deep into my hole, feeling him slip and slide and push and thrust into me, until I am full. And, I will feel his balls, thick with his curly hair and wet with his sweat and his manly juices dripping down from his cock shaft, wetting my cheeks and pushing hard against my groin and my belly, as he thrusts hard into me, finding his rhythm. And, his hard, furry chest will slide against me, and I will feel his hard, aching nipples against my fur and against my muscles. And, I will smell his lusty sweat rising in the thick hair of his armpits and his groin and his chest, as his rhythm moves faster, his cock slipping and thrusting deep inside of me, his balls churning, eager to spurt his seed. Long, ropey white jets of his cum, pushed and exploded out of his balls and his hairy groin and through his thick, hard cock, spewing out of his cockhead, gushing into my hole.
Yet, he takes his time, slowing down now, concentrating on my nipple and his thumb and finger, as he fondles the tender skin, and the hairs around it, and feels the curls of my damp curls across my chest. He moves closer, his face now above my chest, until his tongue wets my other nipple, and he takes it into his mouth, sucking and licking, until I am on fire with lust and need. His other hand moves slowly up my thigh, opening me wider, until he finds my balls, and takes them tenderly into the palm of his hand, and holds me, taking in my heat, until my sack is tight and hard, under my cock. My cock, yes, that's all I can think of now, now that he has set me on fire. My cock, hot and hard and pushing high into the morning air. Sometime, the sheet covering me has disappeared and all that is over me now is the exploring tongue and bearded face of my lover and his two hands, and nothing else matters, except my hard cock and my hunger for his touch.
I reach up with one arm, finding his hard, naked thigh above my head, feeling the coarseness of his hairy skin and the hardness of his muscles, and I reach around his massive thigh, moving higher, reaching for my prize. He smells rich, of sleep and a bit funky, the smell of a naked man, a day away from his last shower. And I find the soft skin along the inside of his thigh, near his balls, the place that always drives him wild with lust, every time I find it. My fingers linger there, feeling him, touching him, his warmth, his strength. His skin is damp, sweaty, and I move up, just a bit, until the thick fur around his ball sack barely touches my fingers. I sense his heat, the lust in his balls, and I want to hold him and touch him there, letting him know I want to feel his lust, to caress him, to take care of him, just as he is taking care of me.
His lips move down across my chest, leaving my nipples wet and hard, the cooler air of the room now adding more of an ache as his hot mouth moves down, wetting the hair along my belly, until his head is above my cock, until I feel the heat of his mouth above my cock, until he takes me inside of him, tongue and lips wet and hot against my hard, aching cockhead. His lips and moustache hit every nerve, as he slowly slips my foreskin away and down, opening and exposing all of what is now me to him. And all there is now in my brain is warm and wet and hard and lust. My need now for him is all that is me and all that I am and all that I want. Nothing else exists, and he raises me higher and higher with each lick, each motion of his strong jaw. His beard moves along my belly and the fur in my groin, each time he slides down my shaft, each time the rim of my cockhead moves along his wet, hot tongue.
His hand still cups my balls, still holding me, caressing me, one finger moving back and under my balls, along the seam between my balls and back, back to my hole, back to where he will take me, and have his way with me, after he has taken my seed deep into his mouth. And, we've danced this dance before and I remember the ecstasy that he has brought to me. But, I am not yet ready for that, not ready for anything but what he does for me now. Nothing else matters, nothing else is important, except for what he does now, this very moment. For what is now is everything. And, I ache, I lust, but I don't want to change anything, I don't want anything to end. Now is perfect, and now cannot end.
And, higher and higher we climb, until I thrash and squirm across the bed and under him, until I grip his thigh hard with my hand, my chest and arms tight and tense, until every muscle in my body is flexed and eager, until I gasp and moan, eager for my release. Slowly, almost but now quite painfully, he moves up and down my shaft, sliding around the rim of my cockhead, across the head, and around and around my piss slit. And then, wet and soft, he slides down my shaft and the sliding, wet slippery surface of my foreskin and down into the forest of the hair around my balls, and up again, so the cool air of the morning pushes against the wet skin of my shaft, until a moment later when he is sliding and slurping and plunging down on me again.
I am nearly ready, and yet I don't want this to end. I want him sliding and sucking on me forever, and yet, I am almost there. I rise and I thrash and I moan, his hands touching and fondling me, his tongue and lips setting me on fire. And, I want him to have all of me, to take my seed and to have me explode in him, to give my soul to him, my lover.
And I climb higher, not knowing how high this mountain can be, and I ache and I tremble, every muscle in me, for this cannot get better, I cannot reach any higher. And, yet I do. He takes me higher, and deeper, until my pits and my chest and my groin are drenched in pools of my lust sweat, and my muscles shake and twinge from this ecstasy, until I am ready. He moves a finger, then two, along my balls, along the seam along the ball sac, until he is near my hole, and I feel him, I feel the roughness of his fingers and his warmth. My cock and my balls are beyond bursting, and I feel him there, under my balls, and feel him touch me there, caress me, again and again, until he finds my trigger, that place he knows so well, the place he keeps finding, night after night, ever since we became lovers. And, I know this is my time, that I can explode now, that I can cum, that I can cum deep and hard and sweaty and hot inside of him, shooting my seed and rise with everything I have, at last.
And, the heavens explode and there is nothing but fireworks and flames and ecstasy in all that I am, and it goes on and on until I have nothing left to give, nothing left to be, until I lie next to him, his mouth still licking and easing my now drained cock, my sweat drying in the early morning light.
As the rain keeps falling, we move along, taking care of his needs, his lust, this sleepy Saturday morning, and soon, he is moaning and thrashing, as I fondle and slurp and suck and slide and take him on his journey. Soon, he slides deep and hard inside of me and takes me like I want and like he wants. And, when he cums, he cums loud and hard, the bed jerking and bumping against the wall, his cock spurting and jerking, until he slips out of my hole, the last of his spurts soaking my belly with his seed.
He falls against me, drained to the last drop of jism, sweaty and gasping for breath, his meaty chest covered with his lust sweat, his muscles now loose, relaxed, and satisfied.
There is a Japanese phrase for this moment, "clouds and rain", and that runs through my brain as I hold him deep in my arms, my sweaty, spend lover, the summer rain now hitting against the window.
Copyright 2009. Oregon Bear