In the late 1970s, I worked in an office building in Manhattan. The company I worked for had someone come around each day with a coffee cart, to every floor, with coffee, rolls, donuts, cookies, pastries. It was a convenience most of us considered a luxury.
Most times the cart pushers, as some of us called them, were black women. On rare occasion a black or hispanic man filled in from time to time. It wasn't the type of job that was conducive to longevity.
And then, one day, along came Juan Carlos.
Juan Carlos was from a small town in Northern Spain and had been in this country for nearly a year as a foreign exchange student when he decided to apply for citizenship. He was a dark blond with the eyes of an innocent boy and the face of an angel. His mouth was wide and generous. And every time he smiled, my body turned into liquid silver. I often wondered what it would be like to touch him and lay naked against the warmth of his slim, smooth body.
I wanted him the moment I laid eyes on him. And after a couple of weeks, I started to feel as if maybe there was something there. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, either. It might have been his smile, which I thought seemed bigger and warmer for me than for anyone else. Or it might have been his touch, which was intensely electrifying when he gave me back change and his fingertips grazed the inside the of my palm. Or perhaps it was his gaze. It lingered far too long, I thought, for him to be just a friendly straight man. I just knew there had to be something there and I was determined to find out.
One Friday afternoon, Juan Carlos was running particularly late. I was starting to grow anxious without his smile. I needed to see him soon.
"C'mon! Where the fuck is he?" I muttered in my office, my mind totally off the copy I had been working on. I looked at my watch. It was three-thirty; normally, Juan Carlos came at three.
I know, I thought to myself. I'll just take a walk around the office until he comes.
I threw my pencil down on the desk and got up.
Until he comes. Hmmm. Sure wouldn't mind seeing that!
I smiled at the thought and my dick began to stir. I briefly wondered if I had enough time to head to the men's room and whip out a quick one when the receptionist came over the loudspeaker in a heavy, Bronx accent.
"The caw-fee cawt is heah! The caw-fee cawt is heah!" It was a wonder to me how she ever kept her job.
I dashed out of my office and down the hallway, to the elevators. The coffee cart was stationed there, and he of the beautiful smile stood waiting.
"Hola, Juan Carlos." I greeted him in Spanish.
"Hello, my friend! How are you today?" Juan Carlos responded in English.
"Better, now that you're here. I really need this cup of coffee!" His smiled broadened as he looked into my eyes. I lingered in his gaze just a moment, then shook my head to clear my mind. I handed him the money.
"Thank you. And good afternoon." Then Juan Carlos switched to Spanish. "Que tengas un buen d'a." He gave me a little nod and a wink.
"Gracias, Juan Carlos. You have a good day, too!" I turned and went back to my office. If I didn't get close to Juan Carlos soon, I would wind up raping him.
Sitting behind the desk, my mind kept drifting back to Juan Carlos. I kept seeing that beautiful smile, the innocent-looking eyes, and his tongue as he licked his lips seductively. I imagined him in his bedroom, half in shadows, slowly taking off his clothes. My cock hardened at the thought of him laying back in bed amidst rumpled sheets.
I tried to stop thinking about him but it was impossible; I was far too horny. I got up and walked down the hallway, praying my erection wouldn't rip through the tight slacks I was wearing.
"Back for more?" Juan Carlos said from behind his coffee cart.
"Oh, no! I just, um, have to go to the bathroom." I smiled at him, a little embarrassed, as if he knew what I had been thinking.
"Me too! Can you hold the door open for me? Please?" He pushed his coffee cart against the wall so it was out of the way, then faced me with that angelic smile. I swallowed nervously, thinking I saw him glance down at my crotch, but I couldn't be sure. I held the door open for him.
"Thank you," he said as he stepped past me. "I really have to go and I don't have the key for this floor." I followed behind him, nervously, then quickly stepped into a stall. I closed the door and nearly ripped my pants as I unzipped and let them fall to the ground in a pool at my feet. I sat on the toilet, my cock already hard, the shaft pulsing in my fist. My ears thumped loudly as the blood pounded in my head.
Juan Carlos stepped up to the urinal beside the stall I was in and unzipped himself. I looked at his sneakers, wishing I were standing beside him as he hauled out his Spanish meat.
Stroking my hard prick I thrilled to the sound of his urine hitting porcelain. It was strong and forceful, gushing from his piss slit. I wondered about his loads. Was he a gusher? Was he a dribbler? Was he the kind to shoot his load so far, and with such force, that he could hit the headboard?
"Ahhh! That's good." Juan Carlos sighed, pulling me out of my musing. "You know, it's bad to hold something in for so long."
"Is this going to be a philosophy lesson on the difficulties of life?" I laughed and said jokingly.
"Actually, life is simple. If you need to piss, you piss."
"Which means?" I asked, uncertain.
"It meansÉ" Juan Carlos voice dropped slightly. Or perhaps I imagined it. "If you want it, take it."
"Oh, really?" So that was how it was going to be; I had to make the first move. "Interesting theory. What if you like someone and the other person doesn't know? What do you do then?"
Juan Carlos thought a moment then cleared his throat. "Then you should just go up to that person and say that you like them and would like to get to know them better."
"What if I just want to have sex?"
Juan Carlos laughed. "Is that all you want?"
"I don't know. I think I might want more. Like to have sex many times!"
"There's nothing wrong with that. They either want to have sex, too, or they don't. What's stopping you?"
I dared myself to open the stall door and lure him inside. Instead, I watched through the crack as his pants moved up and down while shaking his cock. He stuffed himself back into his pants, zipped up, then walked over to the sinks. I could still see his feet. They were turned toward me.
"Well?" Juan Carlos said coyly. When I didn't respond, he continued. "I think maybe you should just do it! That way you have no regrets."
"Uh, Juan Carlos?"
"Yes?" He was barely audible over the sound of running water as he washed his hands.
"How would you like to go out for a drink some time?"
He was silent a moment before responding. Perhaps he realized. "That would be great, but I'm afraid I don't drink."
"Oh. Well, how about a cup of coffee, then?"
"I'm afraid I don't drink coffee, either. But why don't you come over to my house? My wife is a very good cook."
"Wife?" To say I was disappointed was an understatement. Could I have read his signals wrong? "You're too young to be married." I didn't know what else to say.
"How old do you think I am?" Juan Carlos chuckled. He turned the faucet off and I could hear him drying his hands.
"Twenty-one!" I replied. He laughed again.
"WellÉ I am, how do you say? Flattered. I'm 29."
"Bullshit!"
"It's true! I'll be thirty this week."
"Oh yeah? When?"
"Tomorrow."
"No shit? Well, happy birthday! You got any fun plans to celebrate?"
"Yeah. My friends are taking me out to dinner."
"I'm sure you and your wife will have a lovely time."
My cock was throbbing madly and my balls ached for release. I stroked my thick tool and heard Juan Carlos scratch, wondering what it was that itched him.
"Let me know about going out," Juan Carlos said.
"Since you're the married one, why don't you let me know?" I wanted to kick myself for not being more daring or original; but now the ball was in his court.
Juan Carlos shuffled away slowly, almost as if he didn't want to leave. The door opened, then closed. I bent down and peeked underneath the stall. Through the gap beneath the bathroom door, I could see Juan Carlos' feet. He stood in the hallway, just beyond, as if hesitating. Finally, he walked away.
"Shit!" I leaned back against the toilet. Despite the discouraging news, my boner wouldn't go down. I grab my cock and cupped my balls, pulling on them and squeezing as I envisioned Juan Carlos in bed, rolling onto his stomach, exposing smooth, round buns that begged to be violated. I imagined running my hands over the curve of his buttocks, then spreading them to eat his sweet virgin hole; fucking him with my tongue, then with my thick, juicy cock. He would moan and writhe beneath me, biting his sheets to keep from crying out.
It didn't take me long since I was already so worked up. Maybe just a dozen pumps. I gasped silently as I came, spurting a load onto my belly in thick, creamy globs. Dipping my fingers into it, I then licked them, savoring the taste. I imagined that it was Juan Carlos' fuckjuice.
Later that evening, long after most everyone else had already gone to enjoy a three day weekend, I decided to call it a day. I had intended on working overtime in order to complete a rush project but I was too keyed up to get anything done. I couldn't keep my mind off Juan Carlos. And with a heat between my legs that threatened to turn into a full erection again, I gathered my stuff, left the office, and headed for the elevators.
On the ride down from the 31st floor, the elevator slowed, then stopped. The doors opened and I actually felt my heart skip a beat. I could see Juan Carlos behind the large coffee urns, pushing the coffee cart inside; his arms, slender and well-defined, straining.
"Juan Carlos!" I exclaimed with surprise in my voice. Something caught in my throat and twitched inside my pants.
He looked up and smiled. "Hey, Johnny! Staying late tonight?"
"IÉ uhÉ had a lot of work. What are you still doing here? I thought you left at five?"
"No." He shook his head. "I work until eight." Juan Carlos got the cart into the elevator, hit the button for the basement, and squeezed in beside me. The doors closed and the elevator descended.
"It's Friday night. You going out to party?" Juan Carlos stared openly at me. The nearness of him made my blood boil.
"UhÉ no. Not tonight."
"Why not?" His left eyebrow arched slightly. "I bet you can go out to a club or a bar and get anyone you want. Have a little fun, know what I mean?" Juan Carlos winked and nudged me in the belly with his elbow. I could feel the heat emanating from his body and my breathing suddenly became a bit labored.
"I know what you mean, Juan Carlos, but I don't feel like going out."
"A guy like you should have a hot date waiting for you when you get home."
"Yeah, right!" I chuckled.
"I'm serious!" Juan Carlos said with mock hurt.
"Want to volunteer?" I quipped without thinking. There was a moment of dead silence. I swallowed nervously, realizing how it must have sounded to him. What if I had read him wrong? What if he really was just a nice straight guy being sociable?
I gulped nervously as Juan Carlos cocked his head back a bit, appearing to look stunned, then grinned.
"So you're single, right?" Juan Carlos asked curiously. I nodded. "Do youÉ live alone?" He continued questioning me. I nodded again. "You know, I lived alone for a while. In Spain. I loved it. I didn't have anyone telling me what to do or when to come home. I could bring home anyone I wanted."
"Yeah," I replied, nodding nervously. "That is one of the good things about being alone."
"No," Juan Carlos countered. "The best was that I could walk around naked and nobody was there to say anything."
I gulped.
"I, uh, I take it you don't go naked in your home?" I asked nervously.
"Sadly, no." Juan Carlos shook his head.
"Doesn't your wifeÉ doesn't sheÉ like to see you in the nude?" I licked my lips, imagining him naked, walking around my apartment. I would never ask him to put on clothes if he didn't want to.
Juan Carlos remained silent before replying.
"She doesn't like that. She's different that way." I wanted to find out more about his home life. I suddenly got the feeling there was a lot more to his story.
The elevator stopped at the lobby and the doors opened.
Juan Carlos stepped aside so I could get off. I shrugged. "It's okay. I'll go to the basement with you. It's easier than squeezing past this thing."
Juan Carlos eyed me curiously, a slightly lop-sided grin on his face.
"Well, okay. If you don't mind." Juan Carlos pressed the basement button again. The elevator doors closed and down we went. He looked up at and smiled sweetly. I smiled back, more nervous than a teenage virgin about to get his cock sucked.
"I've never been to the basement before." I was trying hard to breathe normally. I lost my virginity in the basement of the building where I grew up so I had a thing for dark, dank, musky corners where daylight rarely penetrated.
"There's not much down here." The doors opened onto a puke green corridor illuminated by fluorescent lights. Juan Carlos stepped outside and grabbed the bar of the coffee cart. "Give it a push."
I did as he asked, holding the doors open for him as we both stepped out into the corridor. There was a hum from the lights, a knocking and hissing from the pipes that lined the walls, but otherwise, it was silent.
Juan Carlos pushed the cart silently down the hallway and I walked quietly a few steps behind him. He tossed me a smiling glance over his right shoulder.
"It's a little scary sometimes, down here." I didn't respond. "And sometimes it gets so hot! I'm sweating already. See?" Juan Carlos ran the back of his hand over his forehead and wiped it on my bare arm.
I stared at him in surprise, an unsure smile on my face. He grinned.
"You know, a wise man once told me something about life," I managed to say through my excitement and fear.
"Oh, yeah? What did he say?" Juan Carlos teased.
"He said that I should justÉ take what I wantedÉ so I could live without regrets."
Juan Carlos stopped walking and looked at me. A wicked grin suddenly spread across his face and a glint filled his eyes. I stared into them for what seemed like an eternity. I tried to speak, but found that my mouth wasn't working.
"I wonder who said that," Juan Carlos teased.
I shrugged. "Oh, I don't remember."
The corridor continued ahead but we turned right and came to a door marked KITCHEN in block, almost military style lettering. Juan Carlos reached into his pocket and pulled out a large key ring. He selected one of the keys, inserted it into the lock and opened the door. Quietly, I waited while he pushed the coffee cart inside and followed behind him.
It was a small room with a huge, walk-in refrigerator running alongside the back wall. A large metal sink, and counter was to my right, with several coffee urns waiting for the next morning.
"You know, I'm not much of a philosopher, but I would think that if your not happy at home . . ." I started.
"I never said I was unhappy." Juan Carlos opened the refrigerator door and pushed the entire coffee cart inside. Then he turned and glared defensively at me.
"IÉ uhÉ I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply . . ."
Juan Carlos sighed. He flipped his right hand in the air without looking at me. "Don't worry about it. I guess I am unhappy." He turned, sat down at a small desk and picked up a clipboard. He started checking things off on a list.
"Do youÉ want to talk about it?" I offered, not knowing what else to say. I shoved my hands in my pockets for fear they might reach out and grab him.
Juan Carlos looked up at me. I stared back into those angelic eyes, trying, mentally, to tell him how I felt, how much I wanted him.
For a moment, he looked as if he was about to say something, then thought better of it. I stood there, not knowing what to do. I knew I should have left, but my feet weren't moving, my legs didn't want to work. I felt he wanted me to leave, but his body language was telling me to stay.
"I'd better go," I said finally. "I'll see you on Mon-É I mean Tuesday. Three-day weekend, you know." I had inched my way towards the door.
"Why don't you wait? I'm almost done. I just have to change my clothes."
I sat down on the other side of the desk. After a moment, Juan Carlos stood. I watched him, my eyes darting to an obvious bulge in his pants. I swallowed hard.
He unbuttoned the mustard colored jacket he wore when making his cart rounds. Then he peeled off the tee-shirt he wore underneath. My cock stiffened as he smiled, sweet and innocent, at me.
"I guess sometimes life doesn't turn out the way we plan, huh?"
"No, I guess not." I cleared my throat as he turned his back on me. Juan Carlos unzipped his uniform pants and I watched them fall. He stepped out of them. I pressed down on my bulging crotch as he bent over to pick them up.
"I guess I thought being married would be different."
"Is sheÉ from Spain, too? Your wife?"
"Oh, no. She's from here. An American." Juan Carlos turned suddenly and caught me rubbing my cock with the palm of my hand. He didn't react. "She, uhÉ how can I say? She was something I had to do." His right hand dropped to his jockeys and he cupped his balls.
"What do you mean?"
"My visa expired." He pulled the elastic away from his belly with one hand and reached inside the pouch with the other to rearrange himself. I could see the outline of his cock against his hip, pointing to his left. I licked my lips anxiously.
"So you married her to stay in this country?"
"Oh, no! What kind of man do you think I am?"
I shrugged. "I know what kind of man I'd like you to be."
"And what kind is that?" He stepped away from the desk and walked toward me. I suddenly didn't know what to say. All those weeks of fantasizing, the conflicting signals from today had all left me dazed and confused.
"My life in Spain was very different." I looked up at him, questioning. "I was a good boy in school. The priests loved me. I had good grades, I was good at sports. Lots of friends, you know the type."
"Yeah. A goody-goody," I said and wondered where he was going with his chatter.
"Goody-goody?" Juan Carlos knit his brow, unsure of what I had said. He sat at the edge of the desk, right leg swinging back and forth while his obvious erection now lay closer to my face. It was all I could do to keep from reaching out.
"Yeah, you know. A goody-goody. It's what we call it here. A person who does everything by the books, the way he should or . . ." I paused and looked up at him, realizing what he meant. "Or what is expected of him. Never gets into any trouble, everyone likes him. You know. Like that."
"Okay. So I was a goody-goody. Except for one thing. And in that, I was bad." I waited for him to continue. "Some of the boys I went to school with, they liked to slap this one boy on the ass. They all said he was a mariposa; a butterfly."
"Why did they call him that?"
"They said he liked boys. That he sucked dick and took it up the ass."
"Did he?"
"He never did anything before. He was innocent to sex. And he was not effeminate. Somehow, these boys knew there was something different about him.
"Then one day, several of those boys cornered him in the locker room while he was getting ready to go to his next class after gym. He tried to fight them because he was scared. But I think now he was scared because he knew he would like what they were going to do him. You know how sometimes you just know something is going to happen, and exactly what that something is going to be?"
I nodded. Juan Carlos smiled.
"Those boys tied him up with their belts and shoved underwear in his mouth so he couldn't cry out. The leader slapped the boy on the ass, hard. Not because he thought the boy would like it, but as punishment. After a few minutes, this boy, he spit on the hole of the other and forced his way inside him. The boy screamed and screamed, but that punk was not going to stop. He fucked the boy like a girl. Until he came. After that, they all took turns on him. It was a little easier after the first one because his cum was likeÉ how do you say? Lubrication."
I gulped as Juan Carlos continued to stare me down.
"When they were all done, they left him. The cleaning man found him."
"WhatÉ what happened then?"
"Nothing."
"What do you mean, nothing? He was raped!"
"Yes, but nothing happened because the boy was embarrassed. He would have been humiliated if he told anyone."
"But if he was raped . . ."
Juan Carlos shook his head as if I failed to understand. "It's true. He was raped. It's true he was embarrassed to be found that way, and humiliated because of what had been done. But there was one thing. The boy enjoyed it. While he was raped, he had an erection. And while the last punk fucked him, just before he came up his ass, the other boy came, too. Without touching himself."
"Oh my God!" I said, suddenly realizing. "It was you, wasn't it? You were the one who instigated it. You were the ring leader."
Juan Carlos remained silent. He sighed heavily and shook his head.
"No. I wasÉ I was the one they . . ."
"Gang banged," I finished, now more aroused than ever.
"For many years after that, I tried to deny that I enjoyed getting fucked. Especially by force! I went out with lots of girls to hide it. Then, in college, there was a boy I fell in love with. I never told him how I felt. I was too scared of my feelings and afraid he would reject me."
"Then you came here."
"Yes. I became friends with the girl of the family that sponsored me. She was very popular and introduced me to all kinds of people. One night, we went to a party together. I got drunk and told her that I liked boys. She couldn't believe it. I think she didn't want to believe it because she started to like me. She asked if I'd ever had sex with a girl."
"Did you?"
"Oh, sure! Many times! But I had to concentrate on the day those boys took turns fucking me, coming inside me. It was the only way I could fuck a girl and come."
"So how did you wind up getting married?"
"I got her pregnant."
I sat stunned. "SoÉ so you're a father, too?"
"Yes. I was trying to prove that I didn't like boys. But my entire life has been a lie because I don't like girls. I like boys. Well, maybe not boys. Men. I like men. AndÉ I like you."
"Juan Carlos, IÉ I don't know what to say."
"Say you like me, too."
"Isn't it obvious?" I spread my legs and cupped my bulging crotch at him.
"Yes!" Juan Carlos sounded pleased. "I thought so, but I wasn't sure."
"Neither was I."
My cock was ready to burst. I looked at his Jockey-clad body. His cock was hard and jutting out in front of him, making a tent out of his white briefs. He smiled his innocent boy's smile and then he stepped toward me.
"Come! Get out of your clothes so I can see you naked!" He demanded.
I rapidly overcame my surprise and stood, stripping down to my underwear. We stood facing each other, dressed only in briefs and white socks.
"Oh, yes!" Juan Carlos bit his lower lip and looked at me with a wicked stare. He reached inside his Jockeys and hauled out a fat, cut eight-incher.
My mouth watered.
"Get on your knees. I want to watch you suck my fat cock. I want to see your lips stretched and your face turn red swallowing it to the balls. I want to see you play with yourself while you suck me off." Juan Carlos seemed to have lost all politeness. And I didn't need to be told twice.
And if Juan Carlos wanted to be in charge, who was I to complain?
I sank to the floor and reached for his cock. After all that time spent wondering what it looked like, and longing for it, I finally had it in my greedy hands and I wasn't planning on letting go until he begged for mercy.
I wrapped my fist around the base and pumped it. Juan Carlos threw his head back and moaned. I leaned forward, parted my lips, and let the tip of my tongue explore his piss slit. A drop of precum oozed out and trickled onto my taste buds. He tasted every bit as sweet as I imagined.
A frenzied hunger suddenly filled me and flowed through my veins. I kissed the tip of his cock and played with his balls while licking the entire length of his engorged shaft. Then, unable to stand it any longer, Juan Carlos grabbed the back of my head and forced me down on his meat. The tip pushed past my throat, making me gag, but I held my ground. Soon, my nose was buried in his blond pubic patch, his balls pressing against my chin. I inhaled deeply, his strong musky odor hitting me like an aphrodisiac. I moaned wantonly and pulled back on his meat, his shaft covered in spit, leaving only the tip in my mouth. I leaned back on my haunches and Juan Carlos followed my moves, both of his hands holding on to my head. Standing up, he was now able to fuck my face with fervor. I prepared myself for the onslaught, relaxing my throat muscles, loving the way his strong hands held my head firmly in place for his cock pleasure.
My cock was drooling and it hurt pleasurably, trapped as it was in the confines of my briefs. I reached into the elastic and pulled it down past my balls. With my right fist firmly wrapped around the base of my cock, I started stroking.
Looking up, I stared into Juan Carlos' eyes as he looked down at his cock disappearing and reappearing. He muttered inaudible things in Spanish to me. I relished the workout he was giving my jaw, my sexy skull fucker pounding my face. I loved the feel of his balls as they swayed to and fro, slapping me on the chin.
It wasn't long before Juan Carlos began to breathe heavily. His balls drew up into his body and I knew I would soon have him shooting his load. I worked my throat muscles, squeezing down on his meat and throbbing cockhead. I wanted to milk him down to the very last drop.
Juan Carlos began to moan, his tone dropping lower, and gave a final thrust. He grunted and plunged his Spanish meat deep into my mouth just as I stopped jerking off. The first squirt fired and hit the back of my throat. I swallowed, struggling to keep his shaft buried, but I wanted to taste his seed. The hold he had on my head relaxed slightly as I pulled back. I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out so as not to spill a single drop of his delicious nectar.
Two more spurts, thick, rich, and creamy, oozed onto my tongue. I wrapped my lips around the head of his shaft and kept my tongue just underneath the piss slit, savoring the bittersweet taste of his cum. I wrapped a fist around his meat, pumping and milking him for everything he had. I swallowed feverishly, as if he were my sustenance and I, a starving man. When the throbbing finally subsided, Juan Carlos pulled me up and thrust his tongue into my mouth.
"Oh, Johnny. You don't know how good that felt!"
"That was a big load!"
Juan Carlos shrugged. "It's been a while." He looked down, nodding at my still-jumping shaft. "You didn't jerk off."
I smiled back at him. "I was going to, but, I figured it would be a waste. I'd rather feel it sliding down your throat."
"You want me to suck your cock?" His smiled broadened. I nodded. He looked down at my hard prick again and slowly sank to his knees. He pulled my Jockeys down as he went and my cock sprang up, slapping against my stomach. "Hmmm. Very nice!" He took my cock in his hand and looked at it. He seemed to hesitate, then he looked up. "Just don't fuck my mouth, okay? I'll choke if you do. I'm not a very good cocksucker."
He opened his mouth and slipped his lips over the tip of my cock. I looked down and watched at how hot his lips looked as they spread, taking more and more of my shaft. He pulled back and I gasped as his teeth bite down on the fleshy, purple head. Slowly he worked his head back forth, nibbling along the way, until he had as much of my cock as he could take. Wrapping his fist around the last few inches, he pumped my spit-slick shaft.
I had been so close that it wasn't long before I came. I pulled out of his mouth and wrapped my fist around the base of my dick, pumping and squirting my load all over Juan Carlos' sweet, innocent face. He moaned as each spurt fell on his flesh, his mouth open and his long tongue circling. He smacked his lips, tongue lapping at what it could reach. I leaned over him and licked off the rest, feeding some to him. We sucked on each other's tongue until we could no longer taste the flavor of cum.
"Oh, man! That was great! But what am I going to do now?" He had a petulant look on his face. He leaned back and shook his hard cock at me.
Without responding, I stepped aside and draped my torso over the desk, grasping the end of it. After weeks of fantasizing, I was eager to feel him pump my ass full of come.
Juan Carlos stood, stroking the length of his hard cock. He rummaged through one of the cabinets beneath the counter next to the sink and pulled out a jug of cooking oil. "It's all I have."
I shrugged. "Go for it!"
Juan Carlos opened the jug and tipped some oil into the palm of his hand. He rubbed it over the length of his tool, making it shiny, then capped it and slammed the jug down on the counter. Walking back towards me, Juan Carlos then sat down in the chair I'd been sitting in. He grabbed his cock by the base and waved it at me.
"I have a better idea. Why don't we pretend I'm Santa Claus. Now, come sit on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas."
I let go the desk and walked over to him. Turning my back on him, I then spread my legs, reaching between them to grab a hold of his oily meat. It throbbed in my hand and I squeezed, lowering myself until the tip was rubbing against my puckered, twitching asshole. I rubbed it against the rim of my anxious fuckhole.
Juan Carlos grabbed me by the waist and pulled me down on him. The lips of my asshole stretched and yielded to the thick helmet that was his head and it plopped inside me. I spasmed, as inch by agonizing inch, the entire length of his shaft ripped me open. The pain was rich and glorious, but I refused to get off.
He continued pulling me onto him, impaling me with the thick fucktool. I could feel the raw flesh around my asshole burning and stretching to accommodate the sudden intrusion. My body broke out into a sweat, but Juan Carlos didn't stop until he had all of his cock balls deep inside me.
"That's it, Johnny!" His voice was a whisper. "You have all of it up your ass." Juan Carlos wrapped his arms around my torso and kissed my sweaty back. "My dick feels so good up your ass. It's so tight!" He leaned back in the chair, and grabbed me by the waist. He then pushed me off his shaft until only the head remained firmly entrenched within me. Then he pulled me back onto his shaft and I moaned, sinking down with one slow plunge. Pure pleasure coursed through my veins.
"Oh, yeah!" I sighed, and began to rock. The oil heated up as I rode him faster and faster, slamming down on Juan Carlos as if I were fucking myself on a battering ram. "Oh, baby! Your cock feels so fuckin' good up my ass! It's so hot, so thick. Juan Carlos, I feel like I'm burning up!"
"Yeah, Johnny, I know. I'm on fire, too. Feels good, doesn't it? You like the way my fat cock feels up your tight ass?" I moaned and nodded.
Juan Carlos reached around with his right hand and grabbed my bouncing meat in his fist. It was still greasy with oil and he ran it over my dick. I pumped myself full of his juicy fuckstick while at the same time pumping my cock in his fist.
"Oh, Juan Carlos! I'm gonna come! I'm gonnaÉ IÉ I'm coming!"
Juan Carlos reached around with his left hand and cupped it underneath the tip of my spurting dickhead. I shot my load into the palm of his hand and he raised it to my mouth as an offering. I stuck my tongue out and lapped it up.
While slurping up my own load, I continued impaling myself on Juan Carlos' shaft. Suddenly, he moaned and cried out as he shot his second load up my ass. I felt him throbbing inside me as his sperm bathed the walls of my fuckhole.
We sat there a moment. His cock slowly went limp inside me, our bodies glued together with our sweat. Finally, I stood and his cock slurped out of my asshole, wet and slimy.
We dressed in silence. When we were ready to leave, we turned to face each other. Juan Carlos smiled. "I'd like to have that drink you offered me earlier."
"You would?" He nodded. "What about your wife?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "She can buy her own drink!"
I smirked and shook my head. "Then let's go to my place instead. We'll be more comfortable there. Besides . . ."
Juan Carlos cocked his head and waited for me to finish. But I left him hanging. I grinned and walked past him. He reached out for my arm.
"Wait a minute! Don't walk away like that! Finish what you started."
I turned around, hands in my pockets and threw my head back to glare at him. "I'm planning on doing just that, Juan Carlos. Now, you coming home with me or what?" I walked out into the corridor and started for the elevators. I could hear him behind me.
"Wait up! C'mon, man. At least let me lock up?"
I slowed my gait, hearing the keys rattling on the ring. He gave the door a good solid shove to make sure it had locked, then trotted behind me.
I couldn't wait to get home and fuck him!