Five -The Sacrament-
The Friday, K. L. Express pulled into the Johor Bahru station in the late afternoon. As he stepped down from the coach, Phil saw Shiwa walking toward him. They shook hands warmly, greeting each other as if it had been months rather than days since their last meeting. Shiwa took Phil's bag and they walked to his car.
A bit later, they took dinner, sitting at a table overlooking the straits that separated the mainland from Singapore. It was warm, but not oppressively so. The trade winds provided their own comfort. They looked at the twinkling lights reflected in the gently undulating water as they sampled the varied and spicy array of food that was placed before them. The cool beer was an appropriate counterpoint to the spices. They talked of many things. Each revealed their self to the other. Talking of their likes, dislikes, family and the usual things, in an attempt to better know each other. It was a leisurely, happy time. After dinner they walked and talked more before returning to the car and Shiwa's apartment.
Later, Phil gazed at the dusky, nude form of Shiwa, standing at the side of the bed on which he, likewise, nude, lay. Again, he noted his muscular arms, now akimbo. His eyes took in his wide shoulders with small purple aureoles, a dusting of flat-laying chest hair and down to his flat stomach. At the base of the stomach springs a dark thatch of hair. He visually caressed the muscular, hair-covered thighs "V'd" open in a wide stance. Then back to the heavy ball-sack suspended between the opened long muscled thighs. From the mass of hair and over the balls softly arched the hooded, bluish-purple cock, hanging down, sausage-like. He smiled. And, as he did so he noted with erotic anticipation the lengthening, arching movement of that marvelous cock-muscle.
Phil moved to the center of the bed as Shiwa lowered his body and they turned into each other in a warm embrace. Lips on lips, tongues intertwined, hands searching, legs scissoring they pressed together. Phil reveled in the feeling of Shiwa's warm body against his. He strained to make maximum contact. They broke the kiss, smiling.
"All week long, my mind was so preoccupied thinking about your coming here. I even half-expected a letter telling me that, for some reason, you couldn't come."
"No way, I wouldn't miss this. I'd even have gone A.W.O.L." he lied. Laughing as both knew that would never have been a condition. But, Shiwa appreciated the sentiment. They lightly kissed.
"Phil, I really need to tell you how special last weekend was for me."
"It was special for me too, very special," Phil replied quietly.
"Also, I need to ask you something . . . . I know that you haven't been with a lot of men . . . . one before me . . . . or one-and-a-half you said. "
A bit shy, or maybe dreading the the impending question, Phil, with mock seriousness, said, "Jeeze, I thought people 'pillow-talked' after making love, not before!"
Shiwa smiled, paused, kissed Phil's nose, paused again and said, "I know . . . . We've done a lot of talking tonight . . . . but . . . understandably we skirted some issues . . . one issue . . . . Phil, the 'One,' was it . . . a relationship, is it a relationship?"
"No. It wasn't. . . ." then he added, as if to further qualify his answer, "It only happened once." And, as if further compelled to explain, "The one other time . . . the first time was when I was just thirteen. Then . . . I didn't do anything . . . I just laid there . . . I was pretty scared."
"Once? You'd only made love with a man once before last weekend? Have you ever made love to a woman before."
"Yes. . . yes, to both questions" quietly came the answer, not a little embarrassed.
The answer caused Shiwa to pull back slightly. His eyes reflected a combination of wonder and some concern. "Phil, are you sure that you want to continue this. . . . ?"
"Continue? . . . . Of course, I . . . ."
His answer was cut off by Shiwa's fingers pressed against Phil's lips in an attempt to silence him, momentarily. Phil removed the quieting fingers with his hand and was about to speak.
"No, please," Shiwa interrupted. "I must say something!" he insisted as he disengaged himself from the entwining embrace of Phil and sat, cross-legged at his side.
Phil's eyes widened in surprise, "What's wrong?" he thought. He reached for Shiwa.
Shiwa caught Phil's hands and held them in front of him, forearms resting on crossed calves. Then he continued as he saw the concern, "Please, let me speak. . . .please." He paused, trying to marshal his thoughts. They were myriad, concerned, multiplied by his feelings, wonder and fears. Fears of losing. His training took over as he tried to get to the core, the center logically and quickly . . . the center of what he perceived as the problem. Fearing what he felt was to be the answer.
"Phil . . . , first, the fact that last weekend was only the second time for you makes it even more meaningful for me. I'm not sure that I can explain to you how special. . . . I keep on using that word 'special.' But that's beside the point, right now. What does concern me, what I want to know is if this is really what you want."
Phil began to form an answer, but was over ridden, "No, please! Let me continue. The fact that you had been with one man before last weekend surprises and concerns me. I don't need to know, I don't want to know the circumstances, or even who it was. But, I am really concerned about one thing. I know that you have been through a pretty rough time the past few months." His eyes locked on Phil, needing to know the completeness of his communication. "It can't be easy losing a friend like that. The emotional shock, I can only imagine, must be immense. . . . Frequently, I know, that persons acting, reacting under these circumstances, do things, react in ways that is often in opposition to their feelings, their training. They respond to circumstances in ways that can only be described as 'aberrant.' And, they are more often than not, regretful of their reactions afterwards.
"Phil, I think that quite possibly these actions, your reactions since Ed's death have been shock induced. And, that, my friend, is quite understandable. You ought not feel guilty even though these feelings or actions may bother you.
"I say this because, again of how important last week was for me. Important in a way that you may or may not be able or even willing to understand. Phil, I have been with a number of men. A few before Dushya, my wife, and a few after we were divorced . . . . not many, mind you. But . . . . some time last Saturday night, I became aware . . . . or consciously realized that you . . . could be very special to me. But . . . the circumstances and what I had learned . . . about you, caused be to think . . . to question . . . Phil," this he said squeezing Phil's hands as if to emphasize what he was about to say and to gain his complete attention. He took a deep breath, ". . . what I'm about to say, I hope won't offend you, won't upset you too much, but . . . Sunday morning I felt . . . no, I knew that I was falling in love with you." He paused, his eyes still locked on Phil, willing him into silence. "I say these things for two reasons. First, because I care
for you and I don't want to cause you anymore pain than what you have already been through recently. Second, maybe because of selfishness, because I do care . . . . and I don't want to be hurt too much. . . . " He glanced away for this last . . . . "What I want to say is that I understand and you don't have to do this. Do you understand me?" he asked, glancing back and then dropping his eyes,thereby, giving Phil leave to speak.
Now it was Phil's turn. He had not taken his eyes off Shiwa's face since he began this remarkable discourse.
"What I do understand, Shiwa, is that your lawyer's . . . barrister-logic may be very precise when you are confronted by physical, material evidence. But, you don't have all the evidence now, and much of it isn't physical or material." Shiwa's eyes raised to meet Phil's. "Allow me to enlighten you," he started, an edge to his voice.
It was an edge that Shiwa immediately recognized and he quickly interrupted, "Phil, I thought you'd be upset, but I . . . ."
It was Phil's turn to place his hand over Shiwa's mouth. Deliberately, he said, "Now, my friend, I listened to you in silence. Please, give me the same respect!" Shiwa was shocked into silence, not at the vehemence of the statement, for it wasn't vehement, but the tone brooked no alternative. "First, last week was special to me, I have already stated that. Special, not only because you were the second man that I had made love with . . . . The first time was important and in that sense special as well. You don't need to know who or the details, except that it was important. Important because it allowed me to consider an number of things. Not only to consider, but to become aware of a number of things. That is beside the point. I have been through . . . . been through shit recently. It did allow me, gave me the impetus to consider a number of things in my life as well as to . . . I guess 'jolt' me out of the . . . lethargy Ed's . . . death (its' still
hard to say the word) had imposed. So that when you and I made love last week . . . I may not have anticipated it . . . and . . . I was, am still feeling a bit fragile, I knew the implication. I knew what I was doing. You may be ten years older than I, but, don't for a minute think that I am mindless or don't have a will of my own. . . . Understand?" The last word was said quietly and with tenderness.
"Yes, I . . ." the words were stopped by Phil's raised 'stop'-hand.
And, with a warm smile, "Give me one minute more. I have two things to confess. . . . First, after you confessed last week about the key, I must confess that I was glad, glad that you had been so sneaky." They both chuckled. "Second, Shiwa, I really feel something for you. But, I must, I want to be honest, I can't say that it's love. It's too soon. I guess I don't know. My Mom says that the Beyer's are 'late bloomers.' It may be that what I feel is love. But, I don't know. I do know that you are special to me, very special. I want to be with you. I enjoy being with you. I have looked forward this whole week to this visit. All week that's all I thought about. That's all I can say. I hope that it's enough."
With the last statement, the emotions of the past few minutes caused Shiwa's eyes to brim. Phil sat up, gently clasped Shiwa's face with his hands and placed a tender kiss on his lips. "Can I ask you a question, Shiwa?"
"Of course . . . what is it?"
"Can we make love?"
That brilliant smile spread, illuminating everything, "I thought you'd never ask."
They fell into an embrace, both sitting, arms around each other, heads nestled. Then they kissed and slowly lowered their bodies to their former, entwined position.
Moist mouth on moist mouth, covering each, tongues searching, caressing, they continued. Slowly hands began to move over body surface--touching, feeling reacting. As the sensitive finger pads moved they imparted ever-increasing shock-like sensations on areas touched and so doing returned like-shocks. Muscles tensed, contracted, relaxed only to contract again. Each played their fingers over each others body, caressingly as a master violinist caresses his instrument, extracting from it the most that it has to offer.
Shiwa rolled on top of Phil and move his lips and tongue to the sensitive neck, just below the ear. His tongue rotated, describing a moist circle and creating short rapid breathing in his 'instrument.' Trailing the tongue downward, he stopped as lips sucked in a patch of sensitive skin in the hollow of the neck. The action created a shudder and a deep primitive groan issued from Phil--his spasming fingers clutching at the mattress. Shiwa moved to one of the dollar-sized ruddy circles, lip-sucking it into his mouth. His tongue flicked back and forth over the nipple, bringing it to erection and super-sensitivity. The other nipple was rolled between thumb and index finger, equally sensitized. The primitive groan became a long, guttural "Aaarrhhh" as clutching fingers became white and his head began to move back and forth, involuntary.
Shiwa moved downwards over torso and belly licking and sucking the sensitive skin while his hands moved in counter direction--fingers over ribs and into moist arm pits. Fingertips communicated the excitement of this erogenous area. His lips and tongue ceased their downward journey as he quickly placed them in the warm, hairy, musky depression. With broad tongue movements he laved that steamy depression breathing in its erotically charged perfume.
"Gawd . . . I can't stand it . . . !" exploded Phil, and he pushed his head away.
Both men were trembling with desire--one from giving, one from receiving. Shiwa returned to the now heaving stomach, ran the tip of his hot tongue into that marvelous birth-scar--again spasms.
He knee-parted Phil's legs and kneeled between them, bent over as if in supplication. Indeed, he was a supplicant--he knelt there, bent over, head bowed and fingers wrapped around Phil's rigid cock. He remained so for a few moments as he admired the treasure, the whole treasure and contemplated his next move. Phil 's head bobbed as Shiwa wrapped his hands around his prick. Then during those short moments of inaction his body relaxed while his mind raced.
He felt Shiwa's lips close over the head of his turgid cock-head and he gasped at the feeling--hot, white hot; moist, salivating; energized tongue, whirling, life-giving; mind-blowing, mind-fogging. Shiwa quickly drew away with a moist popping sound. The warm evening air felt cool on the spit covered cock-head. Again the warm moist suck-tunnel descended, encasing cock-head and part of the shaft, ascended to just under the flaring head and again slipped down the shaft even further. Slowly this motion continued. Every down-thrust enveloped more of the shaft until nose met hair. Hissing sounds escaped from between clenched teeth as Phil renewed his mattress clutching and head whipping.
He felt Shiwa's warm hands move down his outer-thighs and marveled at how he could be aware of this feeling while his cock was so occupied. He felt the hands move to the inner surface. He felt lips move rhythmically up and down the length of his cock--tracing the crest of its head and the pulsing veins.
Shiwa's hands moved to the sensitive upper, inner surface. Phil's body again began to twitch involuntarily at feelings so electric so pervasive that his whole body was by now totally eroticized--his whole physical being had become a one quivering erogenous zone. Fingers began to move in a tantalizing manner over his balls. They pulled tight. His balls were hand-cupped, transmitting their warmth. A finger arched from one side of his ball-sack to the other--trailing lightly its fingernail--sending jerks of seismic proportions up his spine and into every fiber of his being. The sucking-licking motioned continued again, up and down, flicking tongue. Fingers lovingly fondled the balls. In and out of that hot, moist, pleasure giving mouth Phil's hard cock was propelled.
Then there came a feeling that he had never experienced. The shock of it, its novelty caused a loud mounting "Aaarrhhh." Not low and guttural as before, but higher pitched and louder came the sound as Shiwa's fingernail lightly grazed that puckered opening. Shiwa's torso was momentarily leg-clamped, but a deep gut-sigh from Phil seemed to have released the vise-like thighs and they returned to their V'd position. They rested slightly wider apart than before. Small beads of sweat popped out over the whole surface of Phil's body.
Until now, neither of the two had spoken--not spoken since this duet had started. Now Phil raised his head, eyes erotically glazed.
"Ohhh . . . god, I've never felt this way before."
Shiwa raised his head from Phil's ruddy-headed cock. "Do you want me to stop?" came the question, both knowing the answer.
"No . . . . no."
Shiwa returned to his slow, cosmic sucking. This time the pad of his finger rubbed across the tight sphincter. Phil groaned. His thighs spread even further apart, knees flexed. His feet came to rest, flat on either side of Shiwa's bent knees. As if by the strings of some unseen marionette master he open fully his legs, like a book. His flexed legs now exposed fully his asshole. Shiwa's cock-stuffed mouth smiled. He continued. His finger, in ever increasing rapidity, moved back-and-forth and around the now quivering opening. Chill-like contractions, pleasingly and painful at the same time shot up Phil' spine and forced uncontrollable low moans from his lips.
Phil felt as though it was on fire. Never, never had he experienced such a sensation. He groaned in primordial need.
Rivulets of saliva from Shiwa's sucking mouth ran over tightened, hairy balls and down the equally hairy cleft to where finger caressed the now sensitized opening. Shiwa massaged the saliva with ever-increasing pressure around the puckered opening. This ministration relaxed, slightly the twitching sphincter--relaxed it enough for Shiwa's spit-lubricated finger to invade the threshold of the outer muscle-ring. Phil gasped.
"Do you want me to stop?" Shiwa asked having stopped his cock sucking action.
"No," was the answer, nonverbally communicated by the shake of his head.
The finger rotated in its little muscled sheath. Increased pressure was exerted. The inner muscled-gate was breached suddenly and the finger disappeared to its second knuckle. Again Phil gasped, but this time his body jerked, along its whole length, as if trying to escape the offending intrusion. Shiwa carefully withdrew his finger.
"Don't stop," Phil asked, voice strained.
"There will be other times," came the hopeful reply. Shiwa extended himself, bracketed Phil's chest and kissed him tenderly with his cock-wet lips. "Oh, Phil, Phil," was all he could say.
They embraced.
Then, with out preamble, Phil, erotically charged, jackknifed up and over Shiwa. He opened his mouth and tongued the soft, purplish, fluted edge of Shiwa's foreskin. He sucked the elastic covering into his mouth. Now his tongue explored, as his finger and thumb had done the week before, this sensual wonder and he did wonder! He marveled at how his tongue was transmitting to him sensual feelings, unknown feelings, unexplored feelings, unimagined feelings. And as his tongue was thus occupied, his right hand explored the tightly curled hairs which surrounded the base of Shiwa's cock.
He pushed the cock-cover back over the throbbing, purple-red, glistening head with his tongue. He lowered his head until half the length of the swollen, thick dick was in his mouth. When the engorged cock-head reached the back of his mouth, he withdrew slightly. He took a deep breath through his nose trying to halt his gag response. The sensation that he had experienced the week before was not as violent. He had been prepared. He lowered his lips again, his cheeks rhythmically dimpling as he sucked. Lower than the first time--he had reached the half-length. Again the gag trigger began to be released.
Shiwa, unaware of Phil's response, reveled in the sensations of the mouth. No! That's not quite true. He was incredibly eroticized by the fact that it was Phil's mouth pistoning up and down his dick.
Phil, willing himself to do so, continued the petit vacuum. His feelings, his reactions became super-charged (later, as he would try to analyze his reactions, his actions, and he would realize that it was just as much a turn-on giving pleasure as it was receiving it). He released Shiwa's cock , turned and kissed Shiwa with his whole being, with his soul. Shiwa groaned, his body arched.
In part, to contain Shiwa's flexing body, in part, to fulfill some unconscious need, Phil swung his leg over Shiwa, pinioning him against the mattress. His movement brought the shaft of Shiwa hot, jerking cock against the still sensitized, puckered hole. The touch was electric to both. Shiwa froze in anticipation. Phil stunned at his own reaction, began to tilt his hips forward and backward, rubbing this tightly puckered, now nuclear-erotic-center against the engorged under-rib of Shiwa's rock rigid cock. Both groaned as they experienced the feelings of the friction.
Shiwa enveloped Phil in his arms, hugged him closely and whispered, "Oh, Phil, I lo. . . . I like what you do to me."
Phil raised up slightly, smiled down into Shiwa's face, then lowered his head to kiss him again. His hips continued their rocking, frictation.
Phil raised up bracing himself with his arms, Shiwa's embracing arms slipped down to Phil's waist. Phil glanced to the bedside table. He had noticed earlier that there was a bottle of lotion along with two moistened, rolled-up towels on a small tray. He reached for the lotion. Shiwa's eyes followed his movement. Sitting back now, Phil opened the bottle, poured some of the viscous liquid into the palm of his hand and began to slather it over the whole length of Shiwa's hard, rigid cock.
The shock of the cool liquid brought an in-breathing hiss from Shiwa. "Phil, you really don't have to. . . . "
"I know, but I want to," came the reply.
He raised his hips and placed another dollop of the liquid on his twitching, sphinctered opening. Clasping the lubricated cock, Phil positioned it in the cleft of his ass. He slowly manipulated the cock-head back and forth in that haired-crease. The motion sent both men into paroxysms of sex-centered pleasure.
Phil stopped the movement. The pulsing, purple cock-head rested against his tight-clamped hole. He lowered, slightly his hips. He could feel the pressure of the hard, muscled crest as it pushed against his counter-straining opening. He increased the pressure, marveling at the strength of both organs, and not knowing how to control his muscles. He raised up . . . .
"Phil!"
"It's okay," he said as he again lowered his weight. This time a bit more forcefully. He felt the outer ring give way. The head, half-sheathed, popped into the vestibule. Then without delay he lowered himself even further.
He felt not only the head but an inch of the shaft disappear into his hole. . . .simultaneously he experienced a gut-wrenching pain. "Aaahhh," unconsciously escaped from his throat as he rocketed off that offending instrument. He grimaced with pain, head thrown back, eyes slammed shut, hands tightly locked on his thighs. He took deep gulps of air.
Shiwa, immediately sat up, wrapping his arms around Phil's shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked with concern.
"Yeah, yeah. . . I wasn't prepared for . . . for the pain," he stated as he tried to will away the residual ache, eyes clenched closed, deep breathing.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! I'm okay," came the quick and not too convincing reply.
Shiwa continued to hold the slowly relaxing form--rocking him quietly in his arms. Presently, he turned Phil off his lap and gently laid him down on the mattress. "I know something that will help."
"No, no . . . ," came the reply as Phil tried to pull Shiwa back down, "I'm okay . . . really. I want to continue. . . . "
Shiwa smiled knowingly, "I don't think so . . . . . I don't think you can . . . and . . . I know that I can't."
"Why?"
Shiwa merely looked down on his now flaccid, hanging cock, shifted his eyes knowingly to Phil's eyes, then to Phil's soft laying prick, and, finally, back again to his eyes. He smiled and Phil returned the smile acknowledging the non-verbal communication. Then he reached for one of the moist, rolled-up towels and disappeared into the bathroom. Phil closed his eyes. The pain was now nearly gone. He felt empty and not a little embarrassed at his reaction. Shiwa returned, sat on the edge of the bed and gently put his hand on Phil's thigh.
"Spread your legs, Phil . . . . wider." And, as Phil obeyed, Shiwa took the folded towel, now steaming and pushed it up against Phil's still pain-tender ass. The warmth of the towel felt marvelous as it ministered to that pain-stressed part.
"Oh, god . . . that feels good."
"Close your legs and hold it there."
Phil, again did as Shiwa asked and luxuriated in the balm-like feeling. Shiwa lay beside Phil, his arm encircling his chest, and whispered quietly, "I'm so sorry I hurt you."
"No, don't be, I'm okay, really." Then with emotions reflected in the tone of his voice, "I feel so silly . . . . embarrassed. . . ."
"Embarrassed? You don't need to, Phil. . . . This was, I assume, your first time."
"Yeah."
"You should have told me . . . . I could have helped."
"Helped? But, I wanted to . . . . you make me so horny . . . . I wanted you inside me."
"You make me horny too. If you hadn't have gotten me so hot, I might have realized that . . . ."
Phil rolled on his side and put his free arm about Shiwa's waist. "No more apologies . . . . All right?"
"All right."
They moved closer, both needing the closeness of the other, and together, thus relaxed, they simultaneously slipped into a deep restful sleep.
Some hours later, in the early morning, Phil awoke. He nestled closer to Shiwa as they were still in each other's arms. Warmly, he recalled the previous evening and the raging sensations that Shiwa had aroused in him. He sleepily smiled as he realized that his cock was hard. Then as he drew closer to consciousness, he realized that he had to take a piss. Again he smiled at this mind-trick, "a piss-hard-on!" Slowly, carefully his extracted himself from Shiwa's embrace, wanting not to wake him. His movement caused a low, sleep-groan to escape from Shiwa and he rolled onto his back and continued to sleep.
Phil returned to the bedroom and looked down on Shiwa's quietly sleeping nude form, dark and masked by the ambient light from the window. "You're beautiful," he thought to himself as he visually caressed the mahogany form. His cock began to grow, this time not in a need-to-piss reaction. His eyes focused on the soft love-tool arched over Shiwa's thigh. "Beautiful."
A short time later, Shiwa was experiencing a steamingly erotic dream. It was so hot, so compelling--he began to rise to consciousness and fought to remain in the luxurious embrace of the sex-dream. As he reached that edge between the dream world and wakefulness, he realized that the lush sensations did not recede, but continued. He be came aware, consciously aware of a warm suctioning on his cock. He groaned as he fought the neutrality that being awake usually brought to his dreams--never to be thoroughly recaptured--but still the sensation continued. He opened his eyes and fought to focus upon the dark form, silhouetted, over his thighs and crotch. Then he realized that this was not a succubus. This was not a dream. This was Phil, hotly sucking his cock.
"I thought I was dreaming," his voice came, low and husky from sleep.
In an equally husky voice, "I didn't want to wake you . . . . I had to piss . . . and when I came back, your sleeping body turned me on again. Sorry . . . ."
"Hmm, I'm not . . . ."
Phil returned to his pleasurable sucking for a short time. Then he stopped. Shiwa opened his eyes and tried to focus in the partial darkness. He saw, or thought he saw Phil fumble for something. "What's the matter?" he asked softly.
"Nothing . . ." and then, also softly, "I need your help."
"Help?"
"You said that you'd help me."
The realization dawned upon him. "Phil," he said as he tried to sit up. He felt Phil's hand, chest-placed, gently force him back, " . . . later."
"I know, my love, but I want to. . . . ." he said, almost unconscious of the choice of the term.
But, the term 'my love' had not escaped Shiwa.
Phil slathered the night-cooled lotion over Shiwa's mouth-heated cock. And then, again, "Please help me!"
Shiwa groaned as Phil's hot hand rubbed the cool lotion up and down his throbbing dick. "Put some lotion on your asshole," he rasped, Phil complied. "Now slowly insert your finger . . . inside . . . slowly. Try to relax, take deep breaths, that'll help."
Again, Phil did as he was told. Slowly, aware of the incredible energy oscillating between them, he exerted pressure on his tight orifice, bringing forth a deep throated moan from his throat. With twisting motion of his finger, he exerted more pressure on the little mouth. He willed himself to relax. He breathed deeply. The puckered hole opened, or rather, released its pressure, and his finger slipped past the vestibule. He exhaled deeply, as he marveled at the sensation that his own finger was giving him. Then, more pressure, and his finger slipped past the second muscled ring with some ease and into the dark, warm, moist recesses of his own ass.
"Aaahhh," breathlessly escaped from his throat.
"Take care . . . breath deeply . . . deep breaths . . . relax," came Shiwa's concerned voice. Shiwa's concentration and his concern had the effect of a drooping, half-erection.
"It's Okay . . . . it feels good . . . . Ohhh, it feels good!"
Phil's reaction to his auto-eroticism reinstated slowly Shiwa's erection. A smile spread across his face. "Now slowly remove it and then put it in again . . . . move it in and out a little."
Phil followed the directions and Shiwa could see the silhouetted head move back and forth as breath hissed across clenched teeth.
"Breath . . . breath deeply . . . relax!"
Phil continued to do as he was told. He reveled in the new sensations he was experiencing.
"Ohhh . . . Shiwa," came low, almost as a groan, and then with true need, "I want you inside me." Saying this he removed his finger, grasped Shiwa's cock and began to position himself.
"Take is slow, my love, don't go so fast."
Again, more breathlessly this time, "I want you . . . . inside . . . . me."
Phil centered the cock head and slowly lowered his weight. He felt pressure.
"Relax, push out, try to push your asshole out," Shiwa said. His voice mirrored his concern as well as his sexually charged state.
Phil willed himself to relax his muscles and pushed out as Shiwa directed. The pressure seemed to lessen and then the outer gate gave up its clench and the purple cock-head popped into the vestibule. Phil gasped, but this time not with the shock of pain but in erotic anticipation of what was to come.
"Are you all right? We don't have to go on . . . ."
"Yes, yes we do, " he hissed and then, "I do!" He took another deep, lung-cleansing breath, pushed out again and exerted more weight. The inner wall collapsed and Phil could feel the ridge of that purple cock-head slide past. The sensation was not pain, and he breathed deeply in relief. "Ohhh. . . ." He held himself, suspended.
Shiwa, too, "Ohhh. . . , " as he felt that tight, virgin-muscle snap-lock over his cock-head. "Ohhh," came again, and then, "Are you all right?"
"Yessss . . . . it feels good," Phil said. It was not a lie, maybe not the truth, either. He lowered himself a bit further and retracted the same distance. It wasn't pain that he felt. There was a strange stuffed feeling that he was experiencing. He lowered himself again, a little further and smiled as he heard Shiwa groan. He retracted somewhat and then lowered still further. Nearly the entire length of Shiwa's cock was embedded up his ass. He could feel his balls brushing lightly against cock hairs. He took another deep breath and lowered his ass all the way--his balls firmly nested in thick cock hairs and only the deeply muscled thighs supporting his buttocks halted further insertion. He sat on Shiwa's thighs forcing his mind to accept the sensation of that thick muscled, fully inserted form stuffing him.
To that point, all Shiwa had been able to do was to utter involuntary guttural sounds. "Ohhh, Gawd . . . ," he forced himself to verbalize, "Your ass feels sooo . . . so indescribable."
Phil could feel his ass-muscles ripple, involuntarily. Shiwa's head arched.
"Aaahhh."
Then Phil began to slowly move his tight, virgin ass up and down Shiwa's lubricated, pole. As he continued this motion he felt a warmth which began to infuse his being. He could feel that sensitive outer surface slip over the vein-laced expanse of Shiwa's cock and it began to transmit a new, never-before-felt sensation. He quickly became aware that it was a pleasant, very pleasant feeling that Siwa's rigid pole was giving him.
"Ohhh," Phil gasped, "It feels good."
Shiwa smiled inwardly as his head head began to whip back in forth in mounting ecstasy. His hand moved to the hardened cock, bobbing over his lower abdomen and there moved up and down its length.
Phil groaned and quicken his pace, as did Shiwa.
Soon Shiwa let out a loud, "Aaarrhhh." His whole body spasmed.
Deep inside his core, Phil's sensitive ass muscles detected rapid, rhythmic movements. This coupled with Shiwa's cry and his cock-jacking hand catapulted Phil over the edge. His body convulsed; stomach muscles contracted doubling him up; thigh muscles contracted autonomically as he continued that primal dance on Shiwa's exploding cock; jaw muscles contracted and his teeth clamped, vice-like; ass muscles contracted and rippled around the thick, pulsing, penetrating cock. This latter reaction caused Shiwa to experience seizure-like spasms as he grasped Phil's hot expanding cock even harder. Then from the small slit exploded a high arching cum load that landed on Shiwa's shoulder..
"Arh . . . . Aarhh . . . . Aaarrhhh . . . AAARRHHH!" came from deep inside Phil. Repeated, primal cries--loud and rapid at first, matched by spurt after spurt of cum, then lessening in volume and slowing to guttural groans and a mere dribble of spent opalescent fluid--and Phil collapsed onto Shiwa, panting. He had had many orgasms before, but none like this body-convulsion, galvanic reaction. His his panting lessened, so did his twitching. He gathered enough of his wits to whisper into Shiwa's ear, "Oh, god . . .that was wonderful . . . ."
"Yes, wonderful. . . ." was all the usually verbal Shiwa could muster.
Both nestled together, Shiwa below, Phil on top, his thighs still encasing Shiwa's thighs and his ass still enfolding Shiwa's cock. Both breathing rhythms returned to normal. And, like earlier, both fell again into a deep dreamless, satisfied sleep.
Phil woke to the smell of coffee. He stretched his satiated body and yawned in the warm light of the mid-morning sun. Shiwa came through the bedroom door, holding a mug of steaming coffee for him.
"I had a most wonderful dream last night," Shiwa announced with a broad smile on his face, handing the mug to Phil.
Accepting the mug, he replied, "I think I'm dreaming right now."
"Dreaming? Why?"
"I've never been served coffee in bed before by a buck-naked man," he said with an equally broad smile.
"Don't you like it?"
"What? The coffee or your naked body?" he asked with a smirk.
"Both, you ass!" came the laughing reply. Shiwa leaned over and gently kissed Phil on the lips, "you drink your coffee, m' man while I take a shower."
"Can I watch?" again with a smirk.
"Not this time," Shiwa replied with a smile as he disappeared into the bathroom.
It was four months later, while Phil nestled against Shiwa's back in the warm confines of Phil's bed, four months of weekly 'get togethers,' wildly passionate at first, then mounting to that level of contentment and acceptance, that Phil said, "I find you most wonderful. Never had I dreamt that this would happen. . . ," then he added, consciously, purposefully, ". . . my love."
Shiwa smiled, and his eyes filled with tears.
"Did you hear me?" Phil asked.
"Yes, I heard you. . . ."
"Did you hear what I said?"
"Yes, Phil, I heard what you said. It's is the second time you said it."
"No, it's the first time!" came the insistent reply.
"Yes. . . you're right. . . ." quietly and with understanding came the reply. An understanding that grew from love.
"Shiwa, I'm falling in love with you."
Shiwa smiled and moved his back closer to Phil, content in the promise of the future.
The beginning of the sacrament. A commitment with no secrets.