[This is my second story here. I fibbed about the first and said it was fiction told to me by my husband about someone else. Of course, many of you who have written to me saw through my ruse and figured out it was about me. I even said in my intro to Touchdown that my name was Bill. It's not – it's Allan, which is obvious from my email address, which those who wrote me undoubtedly knew. I did fictionalize my name in the story, as I have here, as well as the names of the other men in the stories and even my dog, for the sake of their privacy, though admittedly that dog has now passed on to the great dog park in the sky and probably doesn't give a damn about privacy, if he ever actually did! But back to the point. I hope you enjoy Touchdown 2, and that if you do, you'll write me and tell me. And also, please make a donation to nifty.org if you are able to, in recognition of the site's convenience and entertainment value. –Al]
"Text to Duane," I said into my earbud line mic, holding it close to my mouth. I heard the beeps and saw the window open for the text. "God I must really reek of it. My local dirty gym slut just came up to me and when he got close enough he took a long deep inhale of me and said, `Come by my place after the gym and I'll make whatever you did earlier that I smell on you seem like foreplay!' with a dirty leer.' As soon as Siri finished processing the text, I hit SEND.
And that's when I saw it went to Wayne, not to Duane! "Goddamnfuckingbitchslutwhore Siri!!!!!" I yelled, and four or ten people around me in the gym turned my way, some with ugly-face, some curious and some clearly sympathetic. If they only knew!
Wayne is one of my employees. Duane is one of my fuckbuds. One of the dirtier ones, as a matter of fact. Sadly he's not local. Even more sadly, Wayne is a married, straight arrow sort of guy, who, though he knows I'm gay and single, doesn't exactly cotton to the dirtier details . . . or any details.
"FUCK!" I shouted again before I could catch myself. At least one girl and two guys smiled at me in a way that made me wonder if that was acceptance in the event mine had been a solicitation. Another day I would have taken up either of the guys. Today I had some clarification to do.
"Text to Wayne," I said quietly, again holding my earbud cord's mic in front of my mouth. This time I watched the window. Of course, Siri, that miserably incompetent bitch, had a text window open . . . to Duane! "CANCEL!!!" I roared. I imagined Siri's quick response as contrition, knowing it was just fantasy born of frustration.
I stepped off the treadmill onto the sides and keyed in to Wayne: Overheard at my gym LOL. Maybe I shouldn't have changed gyms afterall!!! and hoped that would do it.
Then I thumbed the display over my originally mis-sent message and pressed COPY when it appeared. I thumbed to Duane's messages and copied it in and hit SEND. If it made him jealous, I hoped his husband Mal (Malcolm, which was so much cooler and always made me wonder why he allowed himself to be called Mal) would be the beneficiary of however it stoked Duane's fire.
Wayne's text back: I'll say this – ur gyms r a lot more interesting than mine!
I texted back, via Siri, who seemed to be able to stay on Wayne, "That's what you get for building your gym in your big new house," and added the exclamation mark and hit SEND.
Wayne back: LOL
In the middle of covering with some work texts I came up with, back on the treadmill belt, huffing to Siri, Duane texted back: Dirty fucker!!!
That's my boy! I made sure I was dictating to Duane again and said into the mic, "Wishing it was you, but alas you're all the way on the other side of the country so guess I'll have to go with my gym dirty slut," checked it, as usual wondering why Siri didn't do punctuation, and hit SEND.
Duane back: ME TOO
Me back, via Siri, "Go do it with Mal" and added the period then continued. "How you keep your hands off that slab of beef cake I'll never know," added another period and hit SEND.
Wayne back: 145 since BOY.
I was confused for a moment, then remembered the text convo with Wayne. I hit the Siri button and said, "Interesting," and hit SEND.
Duane back: As you well know it's not my choice :(
After Duane and I had hooked up the first time, he had continued the email dialogue we'd started before we hooked up, after he hit me on adam4adam. I was flattered that he was interested. Not that our sex hookup hadn't been hot; in fact, it was stellar, like two sex-starved men going at it for the first time in months. It hadn't been that long for me, and I didn't know at that point how long for him, or anything near it, but he was a hottie of epic proportions, and I took full advantage.
In fact, that was true; I did take FULL advantage, despite my intentions. At one point he had me on top of him, him face down, my cock teasing his hole and crack, him obviously LOVING it and teasing my cock right back, and one misaimed move and he'd impaled himself on my cock . . . bare and deep. He was so fucking tight, and he clenched my rod like a hose clamp.
I went stock still, and so did he. I can't remember which of us said it, but one of us said, "Uhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmm," me, probably. I'm not the most verbally articulate guy when I'm cock-deep in another guy.
Duane growled, "Dirty fucker! Good thing I'm totally clean and disease free. You better fucking be too!" that I remember.
I knew I was, but did I believe him? But then he clenched on my cock and moved back even farther, grinding his hairy crack into my pelvis, and that's all she wrote.
I drove that dirty slut practically through the headboard and into the next hotel room before first he and then I dumped our nutloads. His was big and messy and all over the bedspread and pillows. Mine was DEEP inside him. In my defense I started to pull out when I was about to cum, but Duane had growled, "You've gone this far, GIVE IT TO ME YOU DIRTY FUCKER!" and I lost control and filled him.
When we'd collapsed in a sweaty heap after that first time, him on his stomach, and me, thoughtfully, having rolled off him and on my side next to him, I ran my hand up his sweaty inner thigh and over his sweaty balls. His growl of pleasure emboldened me, and I continued up and fingered his cummy butthole. He wiggled his ass until my finger was inside him, and I added another and then pulled them out. I ventured a look and they were creamy and otherwise clean as a whistle. I put my cummy fingers to my nose. Sweat and cum, nothing else.
Duane had turned his head and was watching me, his eyes glazed. "Dirty fucker," he whispered huskily. I licked our sex off my fingers, further confirming that he was surely right when he said he was clean. And then he launched himself on me, sucking my face and sharing the taste of our sex, licking, nuzzling, pressing, grinding and, ultimately, shoving his cum-slicked butt down on my ready-again hardon and riding me like a champion bronco rider as I bucked him for a studly-enough time that I told several of my buddies about it when I got home!
Duane's first idiosyncrasy reared its head after I blasted my second load into him. I was ready to collapse in a nap. Check that; I was collapsed and on the verge of drifting off. But Duane jumped up and said, "Shower time!" Turns out he has a BIT of a cleanliness phobia. I later learned that the calm collapsed moment after our first fuck was a huge compliment to how well I had fucked him, he told me. It seems he HAS TO shower immediately after anything that has him sweating or has cum on him or most any other activity.
I had no idea but I'd done almost four miles as I reminisced in my mind about Duane's and my first time. That was the good part. The bad part was I was HARD as a light pole, and my jock strap and gym shorts were not hiding anything from anyone out there on the cardio floor!
I yanked my sweat-soaked t-shirt out of my gym shorts in an attempt to have it hang in front and cover, but it was already sweaty and just clung to my protruding crotch and made it even more obscene a visual to my fellow runners and striders.
One of the two guys whose smiles had possibly been invitations before was grinning at me and alternating his eyes between mine and my crotch. At the angle to him I had I couldn't be certain, but it looked like he might be equally aroused.
He was tall, built, dark and hairy, four excellent qualities in a man, IMHO. And his ass looked like perfection – a short-stop's or first-baseman's ass for sure – ready for a workout of its own. I gave it one more moment's thought then raised my shirt as if to wipe sweat off my face, flashing my hard-earned eight-pack at him. When I let my shirt fall, I saw his eyes stuck and his tongue licking his lip.
I slammed STOP and jumped off the treadmill almost before the belt's immediate stop mechanism had stopped it. I walked right up to him. "I live about ten minutes away," I said, my gaze boring into his eyes.
He hit stop. "I'm closer," he said, as he headed toward the locker room.
I followed, my cock throbbing painfully in my jock strap, homing on his amazing ass. I was imagining how furry and warm it would be as I pulled those cheeks apart and entered him.
My phone buzzed, interrupting my intention for him. I hadn't opened the messages, was just reading the message on my lock screen, so whoever it was wouldn't know I'd read it yet. Duane: At least one of us is getting off.
Man, did I intend to do just that!
When we got to the lockers, it turned out the guy I was going to fuck was in another row from me. There wasn't anyone else in the locker room apparently. We hadn't talked at all on the way downstairs. "I'm Tony," he called from over the top of the back-to-back rows of lockers separating us. "I know who you are," he said quickly afterward. "But that's not why . . . " He didn't finish.
I was deciding what to say to that when he emerged around the end of the lockers into my row, his gym backpack over one shoulder, a light pullover over his sweat-soaked muscle shirt he'd been wearing. I could still see the electric yellow color in the v of his electric blue pullover at his neck. His black hair and deep olive coloring was stunning against either the yellow or the blue. And I now confirmed that his eyes were a brilliant golden-brown color. STUNNING! And mine . . . soon.
"What I meant was," he said, without the slightest bashfulness, staring straight into my eyes but also occasionally running his eyes up and down my bare chest and still-tented shorts, "It's not because you're a football all-star that I, uh," and then he did look a little embarrassed and looked down at his own tented crotch.
I grinned and laughed. "Hall-of-Famer, actually," I corrected and put out my hand. "Todd Dreesen, just to make it official.
Tony grasped my hand very firmly with his own big hand, and he shook decisively. "Tony Spinoza," he said. "And I guess that would be a congratulations handshake there, TeeDee," he grinned, using my erstwhile nickname, TD for touchdown and for my initials. "Now how about we get out of here and get onto the playing field so you can add another goal to your playing stats?" he suggested.
I did a quick recon to make sure we were still alone, and then I reached down and grabbed his ass with one hand and my cock with the other. "Looks like our playing gear is ready!" I mugged.
Tony gave a feigned look of surprise. "OH, so you think I'm going to be the receiver, just because you're the famous quarterback?" But before I had a chance to say something he waggled his ass against my grip. He also took a step in to me and added in a quiet growl, "Well, then, let's get to it so we can get that completion added to those stats!"
FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKK!
His ass waggling again snapped me out of my momentary testosterone paralysis, and I whipped my own dry t-shirt over my head and shrugged into my wind breaker and had my gym bag and was MOVING!
I followed Tony's Impala to one of the old, small bungalows in the numbered streets. He was a block above San Vicente, and that tiny old post-war bungalow and the postage stamp it sat on was probably worth well over a million.
I'm no snob, but let's face it; gay men tend to either be affluent achievers or stunning under-achievers who live commensurately. It's always nice to find a guy who seems like he has the potential to be an equal, even if it's just a hookup. As my gay mentor had told me when I was very young, "Gay couples usually start as quickie hookups, so keep your wits about you for when the one comes."
It had actually happened to me twice, I mused, as I parked at the curb and jogged up to the open garage, where Tony was getting out of his spotlessly clean Chevy. The hookup that led to a five-year relationship when I came out was one; a bar hookup that led to almost two years was the other. Guess technically neither had been "the one", or we'd still be together.
WHAT THE FUCK was I thinking about that for? This was a hookup, for Chrissake, not a first date! But you never knew . . .
We barely made it through his front door . . . mostly because when he was unlocking it he reached back and took firm hold of my half-hard cock and my very full balls. I reciprocated by planting both my hands on his bubble butt cheeks and pressing my thumbs hard into his crack against his hot-through-his-running-shorts butthole.
"FUCK!" he exclaimed and somehow staggered against the door while at the same time driving his ass back into my hands harder.
I got my fingers up into the legs of his shorts and inside the liner and had my thumbs against his sweaty hairy hole. My cock was instantly lead-hard again, and I WANTED this stud NOW! "I suggest you get that door open, or your neighbors, despite their liberal tolerances, will get a show they're not ready for," I growled against his ear.
"OH FUCK YEAH!" he replied and went back to work on the lock and got us inside pronto.
I didn't notice anything as we raced through the little house back to his very neat, almost austere bedroom. It wasn't neat for long.
Tony turned as we breached the doorway and grabbed my cock and pulled me with him across the small bit of floor to his smallish bed (for a big guy). We both toppled back, me happily on top of his very firm body.
He was pulling my shirt off over my head, and my windbreaker with it. They all flew in a heap where he chucked them, right before his pullover and sweaty shirt joined them when I'd got them free of his head and arms. His face was in my neck, biting, licking, inhaling, and he was moaning and growling like a crazed beast. My cock was throbbing in response, grinding down into his thigh as I grappled to get my cock against his.
I had one hand under Tony groping his hot furry bubble butt, and my other hand was clamped on the back of his head as he nuzzled, licked and chewed on my neck. He smelled and tasted of mansweat; in other words, FUCKING AWESOME! And GOD his ass felt hot and HARD. I couldn't wait to get my cock between those hairy cheeks and into that sweaty hole!!!
That thought stoked me, and I wrestled him and got him on his stomach and got my hands in the waistband of his sweaty running shorts and virtually ripped them off him. "AAARRRRRGGGGHHHHH!" he yelled as I did it. I'm thinking it was a good thing!
I immediately buried my face in his crack, inhaling his mansweat and tasting it with my tongue as I tickled his tight rosebud. "OH FUCK YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" he shouted, and he shoved his ass up and harder against my face.
I penetrated him with my tongue and rolled my tongue around his rim, just inside, and slurped the taste of this stud I was about to fuck within an inch of his life, growling loud as I lasciviously savored the taste and smell of him.
"GODDAMN that's GOOOOOOOOOOOD!" he moaned as I continued eating him. I had one hand on each of his cheeks, pulling them apart to the point I thought he might complain I was too rough, but Tony seemed to be loving every bit of it. I was chewing his assring between deep spears with my tongue and then swirling it inside his hole, which was twitching and clenching on my tongue as he was grinding his ass HARD up into my face all the while.
"If you fuck a tenth as well as you eat ass, Todd . . . " he growled, pounding the mattress with his fist and letting out a long, loud, "OOOhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkk YESSSSS!"
I gave up one of Tony's amazing buttglobes so that I could work my own shorts and jock strap down over my own rather well-developed buttcheecks and down my legs and kick them off. It wasn't easy or graceful, but I managed to keep up the tonguework on Tony's inviting hole enough that he kept squirming and moaning and growling.
When I finally did manage to get them to kicking point, Tony raised his head and turned around and ordered, panting, "Give me your jock strap!"
I stopped and looked up, along his beautiful lean-muscled back and broad shoulders, muscular, twisted neck to his handsome strong-chinned profile. His look was intense, demanding.
"I want your sweaty jock strap, stud!" he growled. "And I want you IN me!" he added. When I didn't move immediately, Tony waived his ass from side to side.
For some reason it struck me as funny. "You're not a patient man, are you Tony?" I asked inanely, giving his buttcrack a long, quick swipe with my tongue, following with a maniacal laugh.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," he moaned, and his head dropped. "GOD that's GOOD!" he growled.
I did it again, and then he hissed long and loud when I came back this time and shoved my tongue in his hole and then nipped his ring with my teeth and then tongued him deep again. God his taste and texture and muscle control was amazing. Which led me to thinking how fucking awesome my raging hard throbbing cock would feel STRETCHING his hole and FILLING him. "GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR," I growled involuntarily.
"JOCK STRAP!" Tony suddenly shouted.
I guessed he really WANTED my jock strap! Problem was, I had to get OFF Tony to GET the jockstrap because I'd flung it off the bed. Fuck it, if he wanted it . . .
I bounded up off him, and Tony moaned plaintively when I disengaged. I jumped off the bed and bent down and swiped up my still-sweaty jock strap and turned to pitch it to Tony as I bounded back onto the bed. I topped in mid-toss when I saw Tony on his back now, his beautiful big cock proudly jutting toward the ceiling over big, hairy balls.
As far as Tony, he was staring, looking transfixed . . . at my cock. I looked down and confirmed I was standing proud. I returned my gaze to Tony's face, and he came up to meet mine. "Goddamn, you're a beautiful man," he said, slowly and hoarsely.
I flushed, a bit embarrassed, and a lot stoked. My jock strap was hanging from my hand, and I flung it to Tony, as my only response.
Tony snatched the jock strap out of the air deftly with his big hand and then covered his face with the pouch, inhaling loudly, his eyes closed. "Fuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkinnnnnnnnngggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg HOT!" he exclaimed, opening his eyes and staring at my cock again. "I want you!" he added, and he leaned back and pulled his legs back, his knees at his chest and grabbed his ankles, his beautiful wet hole winking at me.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmggggggggggggggggggggggmmmmmmmmmmgggggggggggggggg," I moaned, and I vaguely felt my cock throbbing.
My trance miraculously broke, and I was ON him. I had my hands on his ankles now, his knees shoved back into his chest, and I had my precum-slicked cockhead shoved against his hole. Tony was pushing against me and gyrating his ass HARD against my hardon. I was one thrust away from entering him when I caught myself and THREW myself off him. "OH GOD!" I yelled.
Tony took a huge breath and threw his forearm over his face. "Drawer," he rasped, pointing across the bed with his other hand.
I pounced, knowing exactly what he meant. Ripping open the drawer to where it came out completely and eliciting a laugh from Tony, I clamored, almost falling off the bed as I tried to snatch the foiled packets and the squeeze bottle which I hoped to hell was lube. Fortunately a sports career had given me damn good manual dexterity skills and balance, and I had both and also maintained my position on the edge of the bed.
I came back up and over him and tossed him the lube bottle, but he tossed it back. "You lube; I'll wrap!" he said.
So we exchanged, me catching the lube he tossed back, and him catching the condom pack and immediately tearing it open with his teeth and shaking out a rather large condom, which I was glad to see. "High standards, I see," I said, laughing.
"Good luck, more like it!" he countered. "Actually they're mine. Conceited much?" he taunted.
I looked down at his beautiful big cock and realized he was right. I blushed.
"Oh, don't get all sensitive on me now, stud!" Tony said with a laugh. He crunched up, making his abs ripple and making me take a sharp breath in appreciation, and then he rolled the condom down over my throbbing, raging fuckrod. It was a tight fit, even the large size, and I admit my chest puffed out a little. "OK, big boy, enough admiration for that massive member of yours. How about you show me how you can use that X-X-L equipment you've got there?" And with that, he leaned back and pulled his legs up and back and grinned at me.
I was ON him instantly, going in low and smearing his hole with lube while I chewed on one of his ankles, making Tony yelp and giggle. And when he squirmed, my gooey finger went inside him, and he threw his head back and pushed his ass forward onto me and gyrated around on it. "Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!" he growled or moaned, I wasn't sure which and didn't care because it was what he said after that got me. "Want you!"
I felt a flame ignite and flare through me, and I gave his hole one more good swirl with my finger and then got down to it. I got my cock in position, pushing against his slicked-up hole, and I PUSHED against it. Tony threw his head back and growled and pushed into me HARD. "GRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" was what it actually sounded like. But as hard as I pushed in and he pushed back onto me, that tight ring of his wasn't giving. "It's. Been. A. While." he huffed, and he started gyrating his hips and straining to push back.
"Maybe we should—" I started, but he cut me off.
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" he shouted. "I." GRUNT "WANT." GRUNT And then, miraculously, I felt his spinchter give, and my big, engorged head went IN. "YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" he shouted.
At the same time I shouted, "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" because his hole felt like it was on fire around my cock, and he was sooooooooo tight I couldn't imagine how I'd get the other seven or eight inches inside him!
I was still, feeling his heat and tightness clamped around my cockhead, feeling like he was squeezing it from plum-size to pea size in his sphincter-clench! But Tony was having none of it. "C'mon, Todd-stud, FUCK ME!" he prompted, and with that he GRUNTED loud and PUSHED back onto me, impossibly forcing some of my rigid shaft inside him. "MMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!"
"OH FUCK YEAH!" I said, loving the burning heat enveloping my cock, and I pushed in a few more inches.
"OHFUCKOHFUCK!" he yowled but immediately added, "DON'TFUCKINGSTOP!" So I didn't.
I scraped my groin into his ass and ground in for good measure, to his continued long moan, which I hoped was pleasure, but I could see from his screwed up face grimace that it wasn't. At that point I really didn't care, because I couldn't have stopped if I wanted to. But I did take a beat while he huffed and hissed like a woman in labor.
OOOPS, bad image when you're fucking a hot gymstud!
When Tony gave a smile and a curt shake of his head, I went for it. I pulled out, feeling like I almost couldn't for the squeeze of his assmuscles, and stopped the long pull only when I felt my flared head bump his ring.
Tony gasped when I hit that ring from the inside, probably thinking I'd STRETCH him open and pull out completely. But I didn't, and I immediately plunged back in balls-deep, eliciting a loud, long "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" from Tony. When I stopped with my groin ground into his hairy ass again, Tony completed the thought. "ME!"
I immediately repeated the process, though this time without stopping between the out-pull and the thrust. I also didn't stop when I slammed my groin into his ass again. Instead I began pumping him, powerfully and rhythmically, and Tony gasped and moaned in time to my thrusts, which just made me all the hotter.
I pounded Tony harder and faster and still harder and faster still until he was finally shouting "OH FUCKING HELL YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
All I had to do was to listen to his shouts and watch his muscular body ripple, and my hips were on autopilot, slam-fucking him with all the intensity of my roiling, boiling and aching balls.
When I was young, a HOT older gay mentor of mine told me, "When you're topping, if your balls aren't aching from slamming into your bottom, you're not fucking him hard enough." I'd always remembered that, though occasionally with some of the "passionate bottoms", which is basically code for "pussy who doesn't like to be FUCKED like a man but prefers to be gently entered and barely made love to" IMHO, you understand! My fucking nuts were SCREAMING by the point that thought flew through my spinning head, it was joined with the thought that my balls were beginning to spark.
"FUCK I'm CLOSE, Tony!" I hissed through clenched teeth, using all my might to keep going longer. But that was not to be, because the moment I'd got the words out, Tony started writhing and throwing his head side-to-side, and his cock erupted in a long, thick rope of cum spurting up his furry torso and splatting against his neck. That was all it took for my balls to explode.
It started in my balls, but a fireball blasted through me, causing me to shout out, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" as I felt my entire body pumping out my load through the almost nine inches I had inside him.
"OH HELL FUCKING YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS, STUD. FILLLLLLLLLL MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" he yelled as my entire body blasted into him.
I was braced up, my elbows locked, my hands gripping the top of Tony's headboard, his ankles on my shoulders and my head hanging down slack as we both came down from the acme of our ecstasy. Both of us were panting, and both of us were soaked with sweat. And of course Tony's impressive cumropes decorated his sweat-soaked pelt over his beautiful abs, pecs neck and even his chin. It was a beautiful sight, and I guess I was grinning because Tony was looking at my mouth and broke into a grin himself.
"Fucking awesome," I proclaimed.
"Awesome fuck," he countered and winked.
I bent my head forward, feeling bold, and was going to lick the cum off his neck and cheek, but when I moved toward Tony, he closed his eyes, and I knew he thought I was going to kiss him. Kissing wasn't something I did much, at least not on the lips! But I was suddenly hungry for his lips, and I went for it. I bent my elbows and lowered my sweat-slick groin and chest to his sweat-and-cum-soaked groin and chest, our heat and the feel of our wet skin and his wet fur igniting my passion all over again. I took one quick swipe at this beautifully chiseled chin, capturing his cum there and moaning my approval as I smacked my lips, and then, just when he'd opened his eyes again thinking that was it, I pressed my lips against his and went all in.
My arms snaked around under Tony's sweaty back, and his did the same to me as my tongue slipped along the crease between his lips. He opened immediately and let me in, and I tasted him and shared the taste of his cum with him as our kiss went to blazing immediately. We were humping against each other and sucking face as hard as we'd fucked before, both of us holding each other in our strong arms, and I hoped he was enjoying the feel of my muscled torso and back and shoulders as much as I was enjoying his, though minus the extra zing his fur gave me! I was pretty sure, by the way he was hugging me tight enough to challenge breathing and groping at me like I was him, that we were sharing the high.
I can't say I remember ever kissing a man for as long as we kissed. And I know I've never enjoyed it. When people have described a kiss as electric or as feeling skyrockets go off or any of the things I've heard like that, I've figured it was all self-enhanced memory because they were really into the other person. Well, I can now say that it felt electric and that I felt like skyrockets were going off in my heart as I kissed him.
Maybe that's what finally caused me to be the one to pull away, which caused Tony to emit a throaty pouty moan. I was already saying, "Whoa!" when he did, and hanging my head so our foreheads were together.
"Don't take this the wrong way, stud, but that was very nearly as good as the fuck," he said breathily.
"Yeah," was all I could say because my head was a jumble of crap and it was spiraling and swirling and basically way beyond what this was.
I eased myself off Tony, but I only rolled onto my side, and I pulled him onto his side with me, facing me, which I really hadn't thought I was going to do, but my arms had a different idea. He was smiling. And he was gorgeous. Movie star handsome, actually.
What's the post-fuck equivalent of beer goggles? Was this it, endorphin-enhanced eyesight?
"Let me take a crack at this, Todd," he offered quietly, and when I just kept smiling at him he went on. "First, I bet you're not the type who is used to any connection with the guys you fuck," he supposed. I guess my inner dismay played out on my face, because he immediately added, "It's okay, Todd, I'm not saying it's bad, just that's what's usual for you, like it is with me." I relaxed some at that. "So we'll call that one a goal," he declared, with a little smirk.
"I've got your goal," I started.
"No, stud, I've got the goal," he said, lifting one of his beautiful, long, muscular legs skyward, and we both laughed. "What you've got," he started, and then he reached around and obviously massaged his ass and winced, "Is, well, it's a weapon of ass destruction, that's what THAT monster is!" He was grinning and wincing at the same time, which was cute.
"I prefer to think of it as a welCUM challenge," I retorted with an exaggerated sniff of indignity, which dissolved into a laugh quicker than I'd intended.
Tony's laugh was beautiful. Most perfectly chiseled men's faces, when they laugh, their faces contort and look less than perfect and anything but chiseled. But Tony was as devastatingly handsome when he was laughing, and twice as endearing.
ENDEARING, DREESEN? WHAT THE ---
"So to continue," Tony broke in on my self-reproach for the sentimentality I was experiencing, "And, of lesser significance for the difficulty of deduction on my part, I'm going to venture with a strong level of confidence that you don't generally kiss and you never lay around and talk to a trick after your nuts are empty. How am I doing?" he asked with a confident smirk.
Of course, he was crossing the goal line with every play. Strangely I didn't care much, mostly because he didn't seem to be critical or upset by it, rather he seemed interested in me. And I was suddenly very interested in Tony being interested in me.
"In conclusion," he started again, surprising me, "I'll venture that either A, you're so out of your element that you don't know whether to get the fuck out of my house or grab me and hold onto me forever," and with that he paused with his eyes dancing playfully.
"For the sake of completion, what's B?" I asked, matching my tone in playfulness to his look at me. It got me a grin, and I realized when I saw it that if his face had fallen in disappointment I'd have felt terrible.
Another WHAT THE FUCK, DREESEN?! flashed through my mind, and Tony seemed to know it because he held his grin and let me fully dismiss the thought as irrelevant before he replied.
"B is you're not such a dumb jock after all, and you're still here because you want at LEAST one more helping of what you've already had!"
"Is there a C?" I inquired dryly.
This seemed to throw him. It wasn't disappointment, more like a moment of confusion which then went to an intense interest as his gaze normalized. "I don't know. What's your C?" he asked, his gaze still intense.
I took a deep breath and then answered honestly, blurting out my words. "C would be both of the above." I let the breath out after I'd blurted it out.
That caught Tony a little off-guard, and he seemed momentarily to have no earthly clue how to reply. And then, suddenly, his grin returned. "Well," he commented through his grin.
"Well?" I asked.
"Yeah, well. As in when you think about it, it's not my first choice, but it's not my last either."
My turn to look confused.
"Well, it's not entirely B, which I was thinking was the optimum. But upon reflection, A was half great in and of itself, because it had half that you wanted to hold onto me forever. So C makes it seventy-five percent great, if you really think about it."
"Are you a math whiz, Tony?" I asked?
"FUCK NO!" he almost spat in response. But I do know you jocks love your stats!" he said with a devilish grin, which caused me to laugh.
When we both stopped laughing, he was gazing at me intently, just a hint of a smile curving his beautiful, tasty, excellent-kissing lips upward at the corners. I found my hand, which I recognized visually but not by what it was doing, reaching out and rubbing gently along the side of his face, tracing his jawline and then lightly rubbing along his lips. I liked the feel of him and the feeling of touching him.
Tony had shyly closed his eyes as I touched him, and I didn't want to stop, but I really didn't know what to do next. Fortunately somewhere inside me something sparked, and I leaned in and very gently kissed him again. No tongue, just our warm lips pressed together, and my hand on the side of his face. The electricity was even stronger than during the red-hot kiss before. And I surprised myself when I pulled back without pressing for more.
"OK," he said, lazily opening his beautiful eyes. "I'm at eighty-five percent good and shooting north of ninety," he finished with a gorgeous smile.
"I'm going to press for the two-pointer here and go for the pass, Tony," I said, tracing his hairline with my fingers and enjoying the living fuck out of it despite something somewhere inside me screaming WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH TODD DREESEN?!
"And I'm going to make another slam-dunk deduction here and say your chances are almost certain that you'll make it," Tony's low voice responded dreamily, his smile broadening to that grin I was getting hooked on.
"I want you to come to my house," I blurted.
Tony's eyes snapped wide, and his look was confusion. I don't know what he'd been expecting – well, maybe I did – but this obviously wasn't enough.
"Wait, let me say this differently. I have to get home to let my dog out. I've been gone about as long as he's ever been left alone, and he's probably whining and crossing his legs right now!" That got my smile back! "And I only live about twelve blocks from here – up on San Vicente, a couple of blocks over, so we could be there, have Hamish taken care of and happy again, and be in my bed in about fifteen minutes. What do you say?"
Tony's eyes danced. "Can we take a shower when we get there before the next round? I hate to admit it, but as much as I love the smell of mansweat and sex, if I have to put clothes on over it, then I HAVE to shower. Something about the clothes over it, I don't know." He was talking fast, like he was embarrassed. But inherent in there had been a yes, and I was grinning from ear to ear. "You think I'm weird, don't you? I promise you can have me as stinky from sex and sweat, which I know are two things you pro-ballers LOVE, for the rest of the weekend, if you want as long as you keep me naked."
"Did you just offer to spend the entire weekend with me naked?" I asked, grinning even bigger than before.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to presume or anything."
"Tony, if that's the way you presume, then PRESUME AWAY!" I yelled and threw my arms up awkwardly pumped my fists in the air like I'd just run the game-winning touchdown.
And Tony was up and throwing on his heaped gym clothes again with careless abandon! Guess I was looking forward to – at LEAST – an awesome weekend!
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