A Good Man

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental. No part of this story may be reprinted without permission. Copyright by Metredose, 2023, and all rights reserved. Comments and criticism welcome. Metredose@gmail.com

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A Good Man, chapter 4

A dull gray light crept through the little window to Frank's bedroom, and Sean slowly gained his senses. He couldn't remember having slept so soundly. Not it a long time, anyway. Frank was not there. Somehow the big man had made it out of the bed without waking him, but Sean knew not how. It was another mystery, another bit of Frank's magic. Sean stretched different parts of his body and halfheartedly prepared to leave the warmth of the bed. He wondered where Frank was off to. He wondered about the weather and he wondered if he would be returning to his former life that day.

It was Frank's decision. He would abide by whatever the big man said. He trusted Frank's intuition, his knowledge of the weather conditions in his own part of the world. But he secretly hoped he and Frank would be trapped together for another day. And this made him feel guilty. He missed his family. He knew they needed him. But the days with Frank had changed him in ways he was still figuring out, and there was no denying the powerful longing he felt for the man even when they were apart for just a little while.

Forcing himself out of bed, Sean padded down to the restroom. His morning erection interfered with his purpose, and no matter how he maneuvered his body, he couldn't angle it down far enough to have a clear shot at the toilet. Frustrating. Surprising, too, because he was at maximum stiffness once again, and nothing he tried made it subside even a little bit. He padded back to the bedroom, got out some fresh clothes from his suitcase, and dressed. He made his way outside but there was neither sight nor sound of Frank. It had stopped raining and much snow remained, but it was very wet. The dull, gray weather made it difficult to tell the time. It wasn't early, early morning, but that was about all Sean could tell. Frank would know exactly what time it was by the sun or just by plain intuition, but Sean needed some type of device to tell him, a device that he did not have.

Just a few feet into the yard and Sean could feel the wet snow seeping into his pants above the boots. He made his way to the back of the cabin, pulled out his stiff cock, and pissed right through his hard on. A twisting stream came out, arched up into the air, then came down some distance away in splats on the snow. He felt exposed and uncomfortable peeing outdoors, with an erection, no less, and also vaguely disrespectful, but it was a relief to feel himself emptying. He watched as the snow turned yellow, and then it sank and melted away under the steamy onslaught.

He did not immediately tuck himself away when he finished. The desire to masturbate was very strong. Strong like it hadn't been since he was a teenager. He stroked himself a few times, savoring the pure feelings, and it would not have taken much to set him off. But a feeling of emptiness rose up inside of him the closer he got to the edge. Without Frank there with him it felt a little meaningless. And the thought of how much better it would be if Frank was inside of him made him halt mid stroke. No, it definitely wasn't worth it without Frank. But where was the big guy?

Back inside, Sean went directly to the kitchen. He'd not smelled anything cooking that morning, and there were no dirty dishes about. He decided to make breakfast, and he knew exactly what Frank liked. Scrambled eggs, meat and potatoes. He gathered supplies out in the little add on where Frank stored his food, then got down to the business of cooking, expecting to hear the sound of Frank's truck rumbling in at any moment, but it never happened. Sean covered the frying pan, hoping the food would stay warm, and waited, but the minutes dragged on for over an hour. Doubts began to nag at him. Was he sure Frank's truck was gone? If it was, what if there was an accident? He stepped outside again to be sure, and confirmed that the truck was gone. But where? And why was it taking Frank so long to return?

Another hour, or what Sean judged to be an hour, passed before he took action. He knew Frank could handle himself but he was still worried. Worried enough to bundle up, worried enough to work on getting the snowshoes on by himself, and worried enough to set off down the long, treacherous dirt road that led up to Frank's cabin. It wasn't so cold as it had been all the days before with Frank, but the air was moist and the cold seemed to penetrate into his clothes easier. Trees closed in around him, cutting down the light. Some of the evergreens still had dripping patches of snow on their boughs, but the intricate tracery of the branches of the deciduous trees were now bare.

He'd made it some way down the road but then began to think he'd made a mistake. He almost turned back, but then his fears for Frank rose up again, and he trudged onward, descending slowly and always careful of slipping. His body grew sore very quickly, and his clothes were soon soaked up to his waist, but his breathing was steady. It felt like miles, but he was sure he was wrong, before he heard the buzzing noise of a chainsaw, and then he felt like a real fool. He should have known.

Even so, he persisted onward until he came upon Frank and the truck. There were several pieces of a thick tree trunk all cut up, and Frank was hefting an especially large one into the bed of the truck when Sean appeared.

"Hey there, buddy!" Frank shouted. "Merry Christmas!"

Sean was gobsmacked. Christmas? Already? He let it sink in for a moment. How could he have lost track?

"Is it really Christmas?"

"Christmas Eve. Yep."

"I was worried about you," Sean said, in the most casual voice he could manage.

"No need. I'm fine. Just wanted to make sure we were free and clear for the trip."

"Are we going today?"

"That needs discussion. Come on, help me with these logs."

Sean tried his best with the thicker cuts, but couldn't manage without Frank's help. He started in on the smaller pieces while Frank continued on the larger ones, handling them so easily that no one would have guessed their weight. When they were finished, Frank stopped and gave Sean a long look.

"I'm impressed that you made it down here on your own," he said. "Not many people would brave it in this mess."

Sean laughed. Mess was the perfect word for the melting snow and slush, but it also described Frank himself. The man was soaked. He had cast aside his jacket and unbuttoned the top part of his shirt, and everything on him was wet and dirty. His jeans and shirt clung to his powerful form, and in a moment Sean's laughter froze in his throat. His dick soared up in his pants, and his eyes went straight to the front of the big man's jeans, and his eyes were not disappointed. As always, Frank bulged in that area, and Sean had first hand knowledge that the bulge did not promise anything that it couldn't fulfill.

"I know what you're looking at," Frank said.

When Sean looked up at Frank, the man was smiling, and his blue eyes were gleaming. He moved toward Sean and Sean moved toward him. When they met, Frank wrapped his arms around him, and Sean could feel Frank's steely manhood against his belly. The big man's hands moved down to his buttocks, cupping, squeezing, groping, and it was the best feeling in the world, Sean thought, short of Frank being inside of him. Frank was thrusting himself against Sean's belly as he kissed him ever deeper, the heat rising steadily between their bodies despite the cold, but Frank pulled himself back.

"We better take this inside," he said. "I'm filthy."

"I don't care," Sean said.

He sank down in front of Frank and started fiddling with his belt. Frank obliged him. The belt was unbuckled, the fly unbuttoned in a heartbeat, and then Sean reached inside and pulled out the fat, stiff organ. It was sweaty and so were Frank's balls, the scent almost overpowering. Sean guided the jumping erection to his mouth and took some of it inside. It was strange, but after that first night together, Sean had never sucked on Frank even though he'd wanted to many times. He thought about it constantly, in fact. And now he had his chance. But almost immediately his jaws started to ache. His mouth was wide open, the jaws as far apart as they would go, but it wasn't enough. Frank's cock was just too thick to suck comfortably. In his thoughts, Sean had imagined it being so easy, so satisfying, servicing Frank in that way, but the reality was different. His teeth got in the way, and whenever they accidentally touched down on Frank's flesh the big man gave a grunt, and not one of pleasure.

After a while, Frank seemed to have had enough. He pulled Sean up to his feet. He turned Sean around, pulled down his pants and underwear in one rough swipe, and then bent him over. A spitting sound, and a moment later the blunt head of Frank's cock was pressing for entry. It popped inside, soared all the way in until Sean felt wiry hairs against his tender parts. Without ceremony Frank went at him, pounding into his shocked, twitching hole without mercy, long, deep strokes. Frank had him firmly by the hips and he was as steady as he would be if he was standing up straight. Sean hung his head and let Frank have his way. Delicious feelings stirred inside of him. Building tension everywhere in the middle of his body. His balls drawn swiftly up, tight to his body, his bouncing penis flexing and leaking, and then, very suddenly, Frank stopped.

"Stay very quiet," he whispered.

Sean went absolutely still, and his heart started to pound. Something was wrong.

"Lift your head up very slowly and look a little to your right."

The instructions were followed, and when Sean's line of vision reached the right place he saw the most unexpected thing. A magnificent buck stood on the road, not twenty feet away, and it was watching them. It was huge, with clean, well branched antlers, its fur a rich chestnut brown, its eyes large and shining. Perhaps understanding what Frank and Sean were up to, the buck regarded them without fear for a few moments and then sauntered off into the woods. Sean was awe struck, but Frank was apparently less impressed. He immediately resumed his rutting, driving full force into Sean's tender hole as if there had been no interruption at all. Sean's head fell again. He even started to drool, so lost was he in feeling, for Frank was really going at him. He felt that strange tingling tension in his anus, and it quickly shot down to his penis, and then there was no turning back. His dick shot fiercely below him, spitting down onto the snow, while Frank bore into him harder than ever. The iron grip on his hips tightened, and then Frank slammed home for the last time and gave a hoarse moan as he planted his seed.

His fanny still nuzzled close against Frank's fuzzy crotch, Sean waiting for the big guy to pull out. He had noticed that Frank enjoyed lingering inside of him long after he ejaculated. Normally Sean didn't mind, but he was cold and some small part of him was anxious that a stranger might happen along and see what he and Frank were doing. It made no sense. No one could possibly come by. But Sean still didn't want to take any chances. What happened between he and Frank was something that was private, something he wanted no one else to know about. He kept imagining how his wife would react if she found out. He knew it wouldn't be good.

Finally, Frank withdrew, and cold air filled the empty space he vacated. Sean quickly stood, and pulled up his pants. Frank was already headed for the truck. He opened the passenger side door, then went around and got inside. Sean hopped in, too, his eyes still glazed with satisfaction. The truck roared into life and started down the road, but Frank did not turn around. They were headed down, straight down toward the outside world. Sean's heart began to beat hard. Were they leaving? He didn't have his suitcase or anything ready. He turned to Frank with questioning eyes, but the man wasn't paying attention to him. Frank was watching the road very intently, and proceeding at a slow but steady pace.

They slid a few times as they went down. Snowy slush, everywhere, here and again a bare patch of earth, a tree clean of snow. Sean's heart went faster and faster. He was afraid. Irrationally afraid. But Frank continued to ignore him. Finally, after some time had passed, they met the connecting road. The real road, paved in asphalt, leading back to everywhere in the world, but covered in thinner slush than the dirt road behind them. Frank finally stopped.

"What do you think, Sean? Should we go for it?"

"I don't have my suitcase."

"We can go back and get it," Frank said. "The question is, are you ready?"

"I don't know. Seems pretty slippery."

"You know I will get you there and nothing will stop me," Frank said, turning his eyes on Sean. "That's not the question. The question is, what do you want?"

What was he to say? Sean was ashamed. Frank was telling him him he could be with his family that very night, be with them for Christmas Eve, but it was not what Sean wanted. Sean felt defenseless under Frank's merciless gaze, and though several attempts at evasion popped into his mind, he knew he could do nothing but tell the truth.

"I want another night with you," Sean said.

In an instant, Frank's whole face changed. His eyes lit up and a smile cracked up at the corners of his lips.

"We leave tomorrow, then," he announced. "Bright and early."

Relief flooded into Sean's heart, and a little tear trickled from the side of his right eye. He wiped it away quickly. Frank turned his eyes back to the dirt road, and to Sean's surprise, proceeded onto the pavement of the county road. He went slowly, and turned onto the main highway, and it was not part of the plan. But it was useless to argue. Frank, Sean knew, would do as he pleased, and he knew that the big man would somehow be true to his word. But where were they going? The truck plodded northward, and stood up to the very patchy road. Sean knew that the weight from the logs in the bed of the truck prevented it from slipping and sliding, and he knew that Frank was aware of that fact as well.

They came upon a shanty by the right side of the road, not fifteen miles along, lit with beer signs. A few cars gathered around its little parking lot. Frank pulled up, parked, then hopped out. He opened the door for Sean, who felt dazed. It seemed so close to where Frank lived. If he'd struggled on a bit when he was driving in the snow storm, he could have called for help from this place. He might never have gotten himself into such a dire situation, the night when he fell into the ravine. He might easily have never met Frank at all.

Inside, the place was a little shabby, but clean. It was a bar. Ancient beer signs crowded the walls, their luster long faded. Two men sat on rickety stools in front of a counter, and there were a few small tables scattered about. At one of them sat an older couple. Sean felt self conscious. Both he and Frank were dirty and wet, but then again, the place wasn't exactly the Ritz.

A woman, again older, greeted them.

"Mornin' Frank," she said.

The woman had a gruff voice, and a hard face, but she was cracking what looked to be an unaccustomed smile. She wore a flannel shirt and jeans.

"Mornin' Rusty," Frank said. "Didn't know if you'd be open. That was quite a storm."

"Boy was it," she said. "But business is business."

"Is Martin in back?"

"Yep. We're serving breakfast for another hour."

"You read my mind," Frank said, with a smile.

He seemed so happy to be out in the world again, happy to be among other people, and that surprised Sean. He'd been under the impression that Frank lived an isolated life, that he'd be socially awkward when he was around people. But it wasn't so. It was he himself who felt awkward. He and Frank were each other's only company for a long time, and a part of him felt like the woman was intruding upon them.

They sat down at one of the little tables. Frank nodded at one of the men at the counter who looked his way, then turned his attention back to Sean.

"Hope you're hungry," he said.

Sean didn't answer. The woman brought Frank a cup of coffee and offered some to Sean, but he declined. He felt very uncomfortable.

"The usual, Frank?"

"Yep."

"And you, Sir?" she said, looking at Sean.

"He'll have the same," Frank said. "He's a little tongue tied."

"You okay?" Frank asked, after Rusty left.

"Yeah. It's going to take a while to get used to being around people again."

"I understand. Sure you won't have coffee? It's good."

"No thanks," Sean said.

He looked away and Frank gave up with the chit chat until the food arrived. Biscuits and sausage gravy, with fried eggs and hash browns. Frank went at it right away, but Sean just looked at his plate. He'd already made breakfast, he was thinking, but they never got the chance to eat it. Still, the food smelled delicious, and though Sean normally shunned gravy, and sausage too, he relaxed enough to take a few bites. And then found that he couldn't stop, because it was just too good. The biscuits were light and fluffy, the gravy rich and salty, the potatoes perfectly browned. He understood why Frank had gone to the trouble of getting them there.

As soon as the big man finished his plate, he took out his phone and made some calls. Sean listened in between bites. Frank looked up the number and then called the Blackball ferry service, asked Rusty for a pen and paper, and then jotted something down. He called someone after that, a relative, it seemed, and confirmed that he would be making the trip to Seattle the next day, but that he might be late. In the mean time, Sean finished his meal.

"You should call your wife," Frank said. "Tell her the ferry leaves at 10:00 tomorrow morning. You should be in Victoria by 11:30 if all goes well. You'll need a ride."

The whole morning had been a series of little shocks for Sean, but this was the biggest. He'd had no idea of calling Jessie. He didn't feel prepared.

"I don't know what to say to her."

"Just tell her when you will arrive," Frank said. "You can call out in the truck if you want some privacy."

"I feel weird about it."

"That's okay," Frank said. "But you have to do it. You know that."

Frank was right. He was always right, and it was a little tiresome. Sean did not want to call his wife. He didn't feel up to it. And it wasn't like him. He had always been a man who was up to the challenges of life, even when he wasn't entirely sure of himself, but now he felt so passive, so lost. Not when he looked into Frank's eyes. Not when he was in Frank's bed. But out in the world, among strangers, being asked to reconnect with a life that now seemed so distant? It felt like too much.

Above the tabletop, Frank handed Sean his phone, but then his big paw closed over Sean's smaller hand and gave a gentle squeeze.

"It's okay, son," he said, in a soft tone. "You got this."

Sean pulled his hand away. Not in a quick, reactive way, but slowly as to not offend Frank. He didn't want anyone to see him and Frank touching in so intimate a way. It was silly, but there it was, he couldn't get over the need for secrecy regarding their relationship. He steeled himself, got up and went outside with Frank's phone. He had trouble punching in the right number. His fingers were a little shaky. But once he heard his wife's warm voice, he snapped out of it.

"Sean," she said. "We were just talking about you. Are you going to make it for Christmas?"

"I think so," he said. "We're going to try for tomorrow morning. The ferry should arrive at 11:30."

"Where are you now?"

"We're at a little restaurant, a little north of Frank's place. The roads are still dicey. But Frank thinks by tomorrow things will be okay."

"It's still pretty bad up here," she said. "But the roads are passable. We made it to town yesterday. I wanted to see if I could find something for each of the kids, something local. I think I did good."

"You always do. What did you get them?"

"Oh, a few t-shirts. Great graphics on them. And I got Elsie a couple of charms for her bracelet."

"Good deal."

"We miss you," Jessie said. "All of us. Dean is worried more than Elsie. You two have some unfinished business."

"Yes."

"Well, it can wait until tomorrow," she said.

"It will have to."

"I can't wait to see you!" she said, sounding gushy. "It feels like such a long time even though I know it's only been a few days."

"I'm really looking forward to it," Sean said. "Say a prayer that we make it safely."

"I will. I love you!"

"I love you, too!"

Sean hung up, and started to sniffle a little. His wife, his children were in his heart, forever. But he was so confused. The feelings, the attraction he had for Frank were so foreign to him, yet so very intense. Never in his life had he felt so conflicted. At times it was like he was being torn in two. How did one cope when one wanted two mutually exclusive things so badly? He didn't know. The cold had seeped into him while he was outdoors, and it hit him all at once. He went back inside.

The waitress, Rusty, was standing by their table and gabbing away with Frank. She seemed far more animated than when they'd walked into the place. Sean hesitated, but there was nowhere else to go. He went over and sat down.

"Now this one," Rusty said, pointing at Sean. "This one reminds me of your old friend Darren."

Rusty winked at them, a knowing wink, and Sean realized she knew everything about him and what he did with Frank. He blushed furiously, turning pink and then red in two instants, and he was struck speechless.

"Now, Rusty," Frank said, with disapproval, but amusement as well. "You're embarrassing him."

"Sorry," she said.

She looked at Sean, then made a gesture with her fingers over her lips, like she was sealing them. It didn't help. Sean was deeply humiliated. Frank paid the bill and then went for the door. Sean followed him. What else could he do? His embarrassment was quickly turning to anger, but there was no other option. Frank tried to make small talk on the trip back to his cabin, but Sean did not respond.

"If you don't want to talk, just say so," Frank said.

He was met with silence. Sean didn't even turn to look at him. Even on the slippery, steep slopes of the dirt road, Sean kept quiet. He half expected Frank to blow up at him. He half wanted Frank to blow up at him. But the big man had apparently had enough, and an uneasy silence reigned. At the cabin, Frank did not go inside, but went towards his shop at the other side of the clearing. Sean went to pack. It didn't take long. And then he sat down on Frank's bed and brooded. Inside, dark anger ebbed and flowed. He would think he was over it for a moment, and then a fresh memory of what happened in Rusty's's little bar, or diner, or whatever in the hell it was, would disturb his mind and send him reeling again. He wondered if everyone in the place knew what Frank did to him. What he allowed Frank to do to him.

It must have been hours later when he heard Frank enter the cabin. A loud thump was probably Frank dropping another log drop on the fire, and then he heard the clanking of pots and pans. Frank was making something to eat, Sean knew. Dinner time couldn't have been far away as the light was growing dim outside. A scent of frying food soon penetrated into the little room, and then he heard Frank moving about again. The man's footsteps were not light, and when they approached the bedroom, Sean tensed up. A shadow spread over the doorway, and then Frank himself appeared.

"You up for dinner, buddy?" Frank said.

His eyes were gentle. Sean's heart was hard. He simply turned away.

"What is your problem?" Frank said.

His good humor was broken. His voice was harsh and angry. Sean still ignored him.

"You're upset, but acting like a little kid throwing a tantrum isn't going to help. What's wrong?"

"You have to ask?" Sean finally said.

"Yes, I have to ask. What is wrong?"

"Never mind!"

"God damn it, Sean! Tell me what's wrong or I am going to take a belt to your ass. I'm not fucking around."

"Fuck you!"

Sean spat out the words and looked straight at Frank. In an instant, the big man changed. His eyes narrowed and hardened, and his face burned red with anger. Faster than it takes to tell, Sean was grabbed and forced over his lap on the edge of the bed, and his pants and underwear were shoved down. A swooshing sound accompanied the swift removal of Frank's belt. And then the first stinging pain snapped against Sean's bare bottom, followed in quick succession by many further lashes.

It hurt. It hurt a great deal. Sharp pains that left Sean's flesh quivering and burning. But the pain did nothing to diminish the Sean's iron hard erection. It pressed against Frank's thigh. His cock had seized at the first sign of anger from Frank into a rapid, overpowering erection that took his breath away, and now, despite the pain, or maybe because of it, or because of Frank's anger, he was leaking and on the verge of an intense orgasm. There was no explaining it. There was no denying it. In a fever, Sean humped against Frank's hairy thigh and was almost there when Frank stopped spanking him. Frank flipped him over and took the head of his needy erection between forefinger and thumb, giving it painful, prolonged pinch. A stern look beset his face.

"No you don't, you little fucker," the big man growled.

The erection did not slacken, not one bit, but the feelings of impending orgasm subsided quickly under Frank's pincer like grasp. Sean looked up at Frank, a man who never looked surprised. A light was growing in his eyes, a dawning realization. His expression hovered somewhere between anger and amusement.

"You wanted me to do that," Frank said.

"Yes."

"If you needed a spanking you only had to ask."

"It doesn't work like that. It has to be real. You have to be really angry."

"Oh, I was really angry," Frank admitted. ] "So was I," Sean said.

"Are you ready to give me a reason?"

"Isn't it obvious? That waitress, Rusty. She knows about us. She knows you fuck me."

"So what if she does?"

"You were joking with her about me. Like I was just something for you to laugh at."

"That's not what happened. We were just shooting the shit."

"Then why did she wink at me?"

"Well, she obviously caught on to our vibe. Neither of us is good at hiding things."

"Who's Darren?"

"Someone I used to know."

"Someone you used to fuck, you mean."

"The first guy I ever fucked. Yes. I met him there. Rusty was around at the time. She must've figured it out a long time ago, but she never let me know before today."

"I was shocked," Sean said. "I started getting paranoid, and then it all turned into anger. I realize now that it wasn't that big of a deal. Rusty and my wife will never meet."

"Do you really get turned on when I'm mad?"

"Yes. And when you get rough with me. Am I sick?"

"No, Sean. You get turned on when I dominate you. Nothing wrong with that. But I do not appreciate being manipulated."

"I really didn't mean to."

"Yes you did."

In one quick motion, Frank flipped Sean over in his lap, so that his ass was again exposed, and then Frank's palm, not the belt, crashed full force into Sean's rear. A spanking frenzy ensued, filling the room with a cacophony of sound, like a rapid round of applause, and the man did not relent when Sean began to wiggle in an attempt to escape, nor when he cried out. It was very clear that Frank wasn't faking it or doing it because he knew it turned Sean's crank. He was really angry.

It took a long time for Frank to exhaust his fury, longer than Sean thought he could endure, but his dick was stiffer than ever and his mind was imagining unspeakable things, unspeakable ways Frank might use his body. Sean wanted it. He needed it. His dick was tingling, his balls were drawn up tight and he could feel himself leaking against Frank's thigh again, smearing the output he'd already produced. One false move and he would have spent himself all over Frank's lap, but the blows finally ceased. Sean rubbed his burning fanny and then Frank flipped him over again and gave the tip of his cock another hard pinch.

The pain didn't matter. It did nothing to interfere with Sean's lust. He slid down, off of Frank's lap, and on his knees jostled his way between Frank's legs and buried his face in the big man's crotch. He inhaled deeply several times, taking in the ripe, intoxicating scent. An unsteady hand reached up, shakily fidgeted with the button at the top of the fly of Frank's jeans. Frank did not assist him until he managed to unbutton everything, and then he stood up and swiped down his pants and shorts before sitting again. Sean suspected that Frank was still angry, but his cock was hard and red, and clearly ready for action, and what was he to do but dive in before the big man had the chance to change his mind?

He went for the balls. The big cock was lifted well away from them, and access was unobstructed. They were huge balls, hairy and very, very pungent. Sean's tongue went straight to them. He began to lick and he began to lap. Every inch, every millimeter, wetted, cleaned of sweat and aroma, and Sean swallowed the saltiness down, and his dick leaked again and again and again, and his tongue moved beyond, onto everything, licking flesh and hair and sweat and stain, all brought inside, into a new warmth, a welcoming home, and in this way he had a part of Frank forever, and all of Sean's usual fastidious ways were gone and he was driven only by pure desire.

Frank stopped him, but only to pull his clothes off, and to help Sean pull off his own. Naked, the man picked Sean up into his arms, and carried him to the bathroom, to the shower, where, set down, Sean immediately resumed licking, but this time he went for one of Frank's armpits. Rank. So rank and powerful. Sean licked. He cleaned. He took it all inside, and when he was done with the one, Frank obliged him by lifting the other arm, and it was a terrible, overwhelming scent and an even stronger taste, and Sean's dick tingled like it had been stung by a thousand nettles, and he leaked until he thought there was nothing left in his balls.

Cleaned out and fresh, Sean relinquished Frank's second armpit. Frank turned on the shower, adjusted the heat, then turned Sean around. He soaped Sean's body, everywhere, from behind, and then Sean felt the man's huge cock slippery sliding up through the valley between his buttocks, and he waited for Frank to enter him with force. But Frank turned him around again and started soaping up his front side. He avoided Sean's stiff penis, perhaps knowing that even the barest touch there would send Sean over the edge, but he got the armpits, stomach, and even Sean's balls. Balls, Sean knew, that were so much smaller than Frank's own. He'd always thought he was average in size in every way, but Frank's body, and especially his genitals, dwarfed him in every way.

As soon as Frank was finished, Sean took the soap and started in on Frank. It was easy to work up a lather. Frank was quite hairy. Sean got his armpits, which were already cleaned by his tongue, but Frank wanted a dose of soap there anyway. The hard, soaring penis was next, the heavy bush, the fuzzy stomach and the great forest at Frank's very broad, very deep chest. Frank did not allow him access to his backside, but soaped and rinsed that himself, something of a disappointment to Sean, but he understood. And then the shower went off, and they dried each other with a big, fluffy towel, and they were both still as hard as rocks when Frank grabbed a bottle of something, then took Sean's hand and led him back to the bedroom.

"Lay down on your side." Frank instructed. "Best to face the window."

Sean did as Frank asked, and then Frank lay down behind him. He heard the farting sound of something, probably lotion, being squeezed out, and then Frank poked some of it inside of him. It felt cold, but Frank's cock soon followed, slipping inside without effort, an easier entry than Sean was used to because of the lotion, he was sure. Then Frank began to move. Gentle movements, deep inside, gentle thrusting, and all Sean wanted was to be ravaged until he popped off free from the aid of manual stimulation, as usually happened when Frank fucked him. But the man had other ideas. The penetrations remained slow and gentle, and for Sean it was frustrating. He pushed his bottom back, stuck himself deep onto the big cock, and he might have worked a rhythm doing this, a rhythm that would surely have taken him over the edge, but Frank took ahold of his hip and stopped him.

"Just relax, Sean," he said. "Don't rush it."

It was hard. Sean tried to be still, to let Frank take him the way he pleased, but his body, his ass and his cock, were both so needy. He made the effort to calm down, to make his mind blank and receptive. But his cock remained iron hard, and still it leaked. Sean tried harder. Not because he wanted to but because it was what Frank wanted. Very gradually his mind and body fell into line. Sean was sure he would have a great orgasm, but it didn't have to be right away. It didn't have to happen at any specific time. Sean remembered that what turned him on most of all was being the vessel through which Frank took his pleasure, the receptacle worthy and honored to receive Frank's seed.

As soon as he brought himself down from the peak and relaxed, he noticed Frank's other attentions to his body. Frank was touching him, caressing sensitive places. Frank's hands were large and rough from much manual labor, but they could also be remarkably gentle. His caresses were like whispers, sometimes, running down the sides of the torso, making Sean shiver. A brush against his tender nipples, nothing more, made him shiver anew. A finger, tracing down his flat belly, gently toying with his pubic hair, and then switching away to find another place, on the inside of his thighs, the curve of his bottom, and then softly up his spine. Frank's lips were just as gentle, kissing up and down the nape of his neck, the tender spot behind his upper jaw, the side of his neck, and it was more intimate than Sean had ever thought possible between two men. So intimate that he forgot all about his penis, poised as he was for the next feeling Frank would impart upon him.

Time stretched. Time stood still. His breaths came slow and deep. He and Frank were naked, but he was not cold. There was heat between them, building heat, but not the desperate kind that burns itself out quickly. No, it was gentle heat, gently rising, and it was a product of the love they were making together. There was no pain. Not even the slightest discomfort. It was like his body had molded into an exact, perfect shape for Frank to fit into, with just the right amount of friction, and in turn, producing in his man just the right rhythm of thrusting. They were one body, then, one being, harmoniously joined and endlessly rejoined.

A wave of feeling hit Sean's insides. His anus, Frank's receptacle, was now steamy with searing heat, a swampy heat, and the swamp squeezed tightly, all on its own, around Frank's softly jousting cock. Sean moaned, a deep, carnal sound. His anus again squeezed around Frank's big cock, with the same strength, and Frank did not stop, did not slow down, did not speed up, and the squeezes were coming at short intervals, cradling Frank's meat from inside, the soft flesh rolling up and down its length each time, and it was softly intense, and would soon be overwhelming. Sean reach for his cock, and found that it was only half hard, and then Frank took his hand and pulled it away.

"Let it happen naturally," he growled.

Frank hadn't skipped a beat. Nothing could stop him. He continued thrusting at the same easy pace, but now his fingers were locked around Sean's wrist to keep his hand from straying to where it wasn't wanted. It was useless to struggle. Frank didn't want him to cum. That was obvious. And Frank was in charge. Never was that more clear. He would take Sean where he wanted him, and not a step before or beyond. Sean closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and concentrated on the feelings inside his ass. It felt good there. The heat was building up again, now that he was letting it. He thought of how impossible it all would have seemed, a week earlier, to be in bed with a big, hairy man, to be totally, completely submissive to him, to be his woman in every way that mattered. Frank's wife for not just the night, but for every night, forever, oh yes, the desire, the fantasy was there and strong. His body returned to that place of total relaxation, total receptiveness, and that's when his muscles clamped down around Frank again.

A squeeze that drew tighter and tighter, and wouldn't let up, and now he could feel Frank fighting through the obstacles thrown up by his constricting walls, fighting to maintain that same steady pace, and even as the big man succeeded, something inside of Sean finally broke. Waves of pleasure, rolling waves of intense pleasure, his insides rhythmically squeezing over the thick, occupying cock over and over again, and it was beyond heaven. His breaths came quicker and his penis squeezed out a couple of tiny, random squirts, and they were just an incidental side effect to the main event happening inside his butt. The contractions were not over in a few second like an ejaculation, but continued in rolling waves for a long time, stronger, deeper, endlessly peaking but never falling over the edge. Sean moaned and squealed like a woman in orgasm, and the sound was so familiar, because he heard it from his wife sometimes, and it suddenly hit him, the realization that he was having an orgasm like his wife had orgasms, the way her vagina squeezed over his cock in the same deep rhythm that his anus was squeezing over Frank's big post. Powerful, feminine waves washed through him and it was like nothing he ever could have imagined.

The feelings slowly subsided, but Frank did not. He gave Sean's ass no quarter. He wasn't through. That same easy, steady pace. Sean gave into it. Frank had released his hand, and there was no need for it, and if he was Frank's wife there never would be, and then, at this thought, the rolling waves inside of him reignited, squeezing and caressing Frank anew, and bring the same overwhelming pleasure for Sean, the same random little meaningless squirts from his penis. He reached down and realized that his penis was almost totally soft, and completely inconsequential to this new kind of orgasm, and the rolling waves of pleasure went on for a long time before gently drifting away again. And Frank was not done. Sean didn't know if the man would ever be done. He took the big cock so easily now, and it felt so very right, their two roles, the two parts of their bodies so perfectly matched.

How many times did it happen? Over what seemed like hours, how many times? Sean's mind didn't function in a way that he could count while he was mated by Frank, while Frank was causing such extraordinary and foreign sensations. But it was many times. That Sean knew. A soreness grew inside of him. Not from the stretching, not from friction, but from the many repeated contractions Frank so skillfully brought out of him. Frank's mouth was at his neck, and he could feel the man's breath, feel the beat of his heart, and then another wave of the same intense pleasure, the rolling vibrations and tiny squirts, and this time, just barely perceptible, Frank sped up and his breaths came a touch faster, and then the man gave a soft little grunt and Sean knew he was finally being filled with seed, seed that was welcomed by fertile, well tilled flesh.

Frank pulled out as gently as he'd entered when it started, and Sean flopped over to look at him. Never had he seen such a look of satisfaction in Frank's blue eyes. Eyes that seemed to stare into him to the core of his soul. Eyes that would not look away. Frank's eyes had always been intense. But now, Sean was able to meet and hold that gaze without looking away. He felt like his life was laid bare, laid bare as an offering at Frank's feet.

"I'd stay if you asked me," Sean said.

"Would you be able to forgive yourself?"

"No. But I don't know if I can stand to go back. Would you have me if I stayed?"

"If things were different, yes. I wouldn't ever let you leave. But we both know it's not to be."

"I know what I have to do," Sean said. "My family needs me. But it won't be easy."

"Few things are."

"No, I don't believe that. Everything seems easy for you."

"I do what I have to do," Frank said with a shrug.

Frank looked away, got off the bed. Without putting on clothes, he beckoned for Sean to follow him. In the kitchen, Frank tossed out two tuna melt sandwiches he had made, and then set to making two new ones. Sean ate hungrily and so did Frank. Back in bed, they lay side by side, Frank's arm wrapped around Sean, and they drifted off. Sean dreamed of a different world, a different life as Frank's wife, a world of sex and devotion, freedom and purpose, and finally he dreamed of having Frank's babies, and then he fell away into dreamless slumber with a full heart and another tingling erection.