Note that the following story is a work of semi-fiction, or maybe "inspired by a true story." Part is 100% true, and part is fantasy, and I leave it to the reader to determine which is which. Certain details have been tweaked to protect the "innocent." By all means, send feedback along to AtlantisGuy@aol.com
After Game Night -- Part 3
Well, let's just say that the next Game Night was... tense.
The problem? Nick and I didn't really resolve what was going on between us. After that second round, with some of the most mind-blowing sex I ever had in my life, we had collapsed next to each other... and Nick asked the immortal question, "What the fuck are we doing?"
Physically spent, my mind a blank, and my body still roaring with new sensations, I had absolutely nothing to say, and I didn't want to even think. So I punted, blurting out the first thing that came to my hormonally-addled brain: "Well... we're fucking."
Nick punched me in the arm.
I whined, "What's that for?"
"That's it, you smartass? That's your answer? Wow. That's some Grade-A thinking there, Buck. A real top-rate mind you've got."
"Well, I don't know... what do you want me to say?" I realized I was feeling... irritated. I mean, Nick asked a fair question. He asked the question. But I didn't want to go there. I wanted to enjoy the moment... not think about all the considerable implications--and complications--that were staring us in the face.
Nick propped himself up on his elbow and turned a ferocious stare at me. "Aw, shit man... are you gonna freak out on me?"
"What? No! I was just... c'mon, I was just... you know, in the moment." If I had stopped there, things would have likely gone differently, given ourselves time to take a breath. Alas... I pushed on. "But, I mean... this... this is complicated. We could end up blowing up our lives."
Nick sat up fully at that and gave me a leveled stare. "Did you like what we did?"
Christ. He went there. Right there, right then, there was no way I could lie. Not covered in our mutual sweat, our mutual cum. "Well, yes. But...." Again, my mind was blank, and I went for the first thing I thought of: "But... I love my wife, you know?"
"I love my wife!" Nick shot back reflexively.
"Dude! You came here! And I sure didn't miss that you weren't wearing underwear!"
"Oh yeah? Your hands aren't clean. You fucking pulled me inside... and you kissed me like it was the last breath of life!"
Well. That escalated rapidly. I was somehow both amped up, and locked in a defensive crouch. I shot back, far louder than I intended, "That didn't mean anything!"
Shit. Why did I say that? I mean... well, did it?
Nick ran his hand roughly across his jaw and looked into the distance. "This was a mistake."
Still irritated, I snarked out, "Once would have been a mistake. Twice is...."
I never finished the thought. Nick just looked at me for a second, and seeing his face, I froze. I had no idea what was going through his mind. Hell, I had no idea what was going through my mind. But I was pretty sure I just torpedoed any chance of finding out.
"Later," he said flatly, as he gathered up his stuff and left.
Leaving me alone with my thoughts, fears, and... uncertainty.
Where the hell did all that come from? Why did I respond like that? Jesus... that was some of the best, most intense sex of my life. My body was still reeling from the experience. So why was I so defensive? Why was I afraid to admit the obvious? Or even learn if Nick was feeling anything similar?
Well, grimly, I knew exactly why I responded like that. Guys are horrible at talking about their feelings. Married straight guys are incredibly horrible at talking about their feelings. Married straight guys who unexpectedly have their entire notions of masculinity, sexuality, and self-identity blown up are piss-poor awful about talking about their feelings. Great. So in less than 24 hours, I had shredded my view of self, sex, and family, and likely taken out a long-standing friendship to boot... with, of course, the one guy I knew who could actually relate to all this bullshit.
Nicely done, Buck. Not even noon and I needed a drink.
The rest of the weekend gave me ample time for a mental reckoning. I really did love my wife Nan. I really did have a view about us as a family, and my place in it, my role in it. And what kind of guy I was. Sure, I had thought at some point about what it would be like to be with another guy, but just in the abstract. I certainly never thought I'd dive head-first into the deep end the very first chance I got. But I did... and had a sore ass to prove it.
But one thing was clear. My body was on fire and knew what it needed, regardless of whatever issues my brain was wrestling with. When Nan got home later... well, let's just say I went after her hard. But it was... different than being with a guy. With Nick. Sex with her was... good. It was fun. And I don't mean that in a bad way, but it was... fun. Playful. But I couldn't help but think of Nick, and how things with him were... wild. Furious. Screamingly intense. He pushed me, and I had to push back to keep up. I unleashed myself with him, and came out wildly invigorated. Feeling alive.
Sex with Nan made me feel like a devoted husband. Sex with Nick made me feel like... a Man. Like a fucking hero of old.
But that circled back to Nick's question: what the fuck were we doing? What did it mean for us? For our wives?
With no final answer to that, and no answer as to what Nick himself was feeling, I went in to that week's Game Night with absolute dread. So much so, I showed up as late as possible to our usual rendezvous at Greg's house, hoping that things would be under way and I could slide in with minimal fuss.
Alas, Nick had the same idea, and was later than I was. With two of us being so late, they had held off on setting up until we were all there. Plus, we had one of our semi-regular guys join us that week as well. The extra man meant we had to slightly alter our usual seating arrangement, and as the last two to arrive, Nick and I ended up sitting next to each other.
Awkward.
The first 15 minutes or so were painful, as we both were so desperate to tamp down any hint of something going on between us that we ridiculously avoided each other, even though we were sitting so close our elbows almost touched.
Mercifully, as gameplay started our natural competitiveness kicked in and our self-consciousness ebbed away. Helped by a significant amount of booze. In truth, one of the standing rules we played by was "always screw Greg"--Greg was easily the best player among us and a ready target for anti-Greg alliances to keep him in check. In fact, Nick and I fell into a natural rhythm in our play--a wordless, mutually agreed-upon strategy directed at taking down Greg. And it was working. At one point led Greg to jab a finger at us and bellow, "Fuck you two! Are you fuckers signaling under the table?" Nick and I started theatrically kicking each other, then even more theatrically playing "footsie," which elicited bellows of laughter from around the table, and some choice words from Greg. In that shared mission, in our shared laughter, and the ongoing rough-and-tumble of gameplay, a lot of the tension between us evaporated. Nick didn't even look over at me; he didn't have to, I sensed we'd reached detente.
We finished in good order, with tempers restored all around. The drinks, the ball-busting, the puffed-up posturing and explosive insults had--oddly enough--a salubrious effect on me, making me feel more grounded and relaxed. More myself. Like one of the guys.
And I have to say, I was watching Nick with new eyes, and a new appreciation. He was masculine poetry in motion. Cocky, but collaborative. Active, gung-ho, and action-oriented. And to any objective eye, hot as hell. No longer the college-age pretty boy I'd met years back. He had grown into his features, which were... now more angular. Somehow rougher. And he was intensely masculine... in his gestures, in his bearing, his expressions, everything.
And fuck he was hot. And the memory of us together... fuck, that was hot. The memory tugged at all my senses at once. The scrape of his stubble as his mouth moved across me. The low, guttural sound of his sex noises when something was going particularly well. The scent of his musk as I went down on him. All things I had never associated with sex before, but were now burned into my mind. I had to literally shake my head to clear it those memories a couple times, and hope that my precum wasn't making a wet spot through my jeans.
It was at one of those points where I suspected that I had found the answers I was looking for.
We finished up, and Greg started putting the stuff away as general conversation broke out. Needing some space, I called out, "Hey guys, long day tomorrow. I'm heading out." Most of the guys nodded without really looking up. Nick similarly turned his head toward the gang and shouted "Later!" and sped up to walk out with me.
Funny how his one-word farewell had a much different ring this time.
A few steps down the sidewalk I lightly grabbed his arm, and we stopped and faced each other. I wanted to kill off any remaining awkwardness between us, and to clean the slate. "Nick... look, I'm sorry about how things ended up over the weekend. I... my head was.... Shit, I just got all defensive. I'm not trying to come between you and your wife, or to mess up your life... look, I get it. I didn't mean to freak out on you. I'm... sorry. No hard feelings?"
Nick nodded. "No, I get it. My mind was all over the place, and I just reacted, too." He drew a long breath, then let it out. He looked over his shoulder for a second, and went on quietly. His cockiness subsumed by a need to get his thoughts out. "And... well, the intensity of what we did just really threw me. Not in a bad way! I really did love what we did. It was... fucking unbelievable. No regrets. None at all."
I have to say, hearing him say that lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. I mean, I thought he liked it, but it was a huge relief hearing him say it... and say it openly, and thoughtfully, rather than in the throes of passion or that he was just trying to get me into the sack. It made it more real, and made me feel like less of a freak or some sort of perv. We were in this together. And best of all, it felt like we were still... well, we were still... guys.
But based on the thinking I'd done, there was still more to say. Before I could overthink things and talk myself out of it, I started in with what was in my mind. "Me neither. I loved every bit of it. In fact, well... maybe we...."
Nick cut me off with a grin. "I'd be up for a rematch, if that's what you're thinking."
Relief transmuted into something else entirely. I got so hard, so fast, that I'm surprised I didn't rip a hole in my jeans.
But the chance for any further conversation was swept away, as we could hear the sounds from inside Greg's house that meant that the rest of the goons were on their way out the door. I bit down what I wanted to say, and instead gave a hearty yell that I'd check in with him later. Of course, I was hard as a steel girder as I walked back to the car... doing that "hardon-waddle" to keep from showing everyone just how excited our conversation had made me.
Alas, that "rematch" was a long time in coming. As Nick mentioned that first night we got together, his wife's sister had just moved in so she could get on her feet, which pretty much torpedoed any kind of free time at Nick's house. And since my wife had just been traveling, she wasn't going anywhere either. Nick and I didn't live far from each other, not exactly, but we were hardly close neighbors who could drop in on a moment's notice. Some time passed; and outside the occasional text, all we had were fleeting moments at Game Night, where we had to ride a very fine line between flirting and "just joking around."
In the meantime, I had plenty of time to think. And to remember. And to fantasize.
Finally, one Saturday morning I got a message. Still a bit bleary, I grabbed the phone, and squinted to read it. Fuck. It was from Nick: "Ladies gone on errands thru lunch. Can u stop by?"
I don't know how I was able to respond; testosterone and adrenaline flooded my body, making my hands shake so badly I could barely type. Everything inside me was screaming DAMN THE TORPEDOES, BOLT FOR THE DOOR, but somehow I had the presence of mind to slow down--to get myself together and act casually enough to allay suspicion. I tried to keep my voice from soaring several octaves above normal as I rambled the first excuse I could think of about where I was going: "Hey sweetie, Nick's put out a call for help. He's moving some stuff and bit off more than he can chew. I gotta go for a bit"
"Don't hurt yourself!" she called out... and I had the song "Hurts so Good" looping through my mind as I threw on some clothes and a baseball cap.
I got out of the house casually enough, but once in the car, I absolutely redlined it over to Nicks. Harder than granite. I have no idea how I got from my car to his door, but there he was greeting me, wearing nothing but gym shorts.
Fuck, Nick was hot. I mean, Jesus... how are there not a line of women--and men--not lined up, sniffing around his door trying to hook up with him? I had never really responded to the sight of a male body, but everything about him was making me fucking burn. The scruff of his jaw. The muscles of his arms. His chest. Jesus, his chest! It was... it was so casually impressive. Alive with muscles, but still natural... not the too-bulked up artificiality of too many male models. Those were real muscles, not for show. Which made him more real. And the sight of his chest hair... proud proof of masculinity. Especially that teasing happy trail running down below his waist line, leading to a hairy dick and a pair of hairy balls that were making me sweat just thinking about them. He was tenting out his shorts, welcoming me.
We knew what we wanted. Whatever doubts we had, whatever proclamations we had made about loving our wives were gone. Although we never really said a word about it, we had made peace with everything... and now words were unnecessary. We were just a pair of males ready to rut like a pair of Grizzly bears.
As the door slammed shut behind me, I slammed into Nick. Our lips met in what was more like being whacked with a 2x4a than a kiss. And he hit me right back, full force. Our tongues were halfway down each other's throats as my hands dug into him. Feeling his skin. Running up the back of his neck and through his hair. Fuck. One of his hands slid up the side of my face while the other grabbed at the back of my neck. Fuck. FUCK. Our mouths ground at each other, like whetstones grinding down a blade.
I don't know how long we were kissing, but when we finally blasted apart, we were both gasping for breath. We were both making sounds, somewhere between a grunt and a sharp moan. God... he was so fucking hot, and completely overwhelming my senses.
Our lips collided against each other again and again, with us both making animal noises as we panted out our breaths hard. Our hard cocks were rubbing through the material of our clothes. At one point, I reached around and drove my hand down his back, past the waistband of his shorts and down across that magnificent ass... my middle finger sliding down his crack, and feeling the furry drag of the hair in that muscular trench.
God, I wanted him. God, I NEEDED him.
I pulled back, and without any hesitation dropped to me knees. His hairy cock was going to be mine. I reached in to grab his shaft, then pulled off his shorts in one rapid movement. His hairy crotch was there before me in all its glory.
The scent of his musk filled my nose and snapped whatever civilized control I had left. I grabbed his ass with my hands, and drove my face into his crotch. Breathing him, letting his musky balls scent me, dragging my mouth across his bush. Above me, I heard him belt out "Fuck YEAH man, fucking WORSHIP ME!"
He didn't need to tell me twice.
I started off on his balls, taking them each in my mouth, savoring their sweaty tang and rolling my tongue around them as I sucked them hard. "Aw fuck!" His hands instinctively grabbed my head, and started running his fingers through my hair. He knew he didn't need to guide me with his hands; he had rock sold faith I had everything under control.
His balls were a necessary first step, but I needed that rock hard slab of man meat between his legs, standing tall, proud and straight as a flag pole.
I hungrily slid my mouth other his cock head, sucking hard. I puckered up my lips, and mouth-fucked him several times in rapid succession. He let out an explosive gasp that turned into a feral growl. After a moment's pause to catch my breath, I drove down as far as I could, inhaling his cock as I went. Pushing as far as I possibly could.
I tried and keep going, desperate to mimic deep throating scenes from all the pornos I had watched. But it was not to be... I was way too inexperienced to swallow down his full length, and I nearly gagged myself. I made up for it by using every trick I could think of as I slid up and down his rock-hard shaft.
Nick bellowed louder than a band of Vikings charging into battle. There were no actual words, just the roar of pure unadulterated lust as his dick slid into my hungry mouth, getting teased with my tongue. I couldn't match him sound for sound with his cock filling my throat, but my mind was screaming out twice as loud. This was a fucking primal moment. I had a guy's fucking dick in my mouth! The core of his masculinity was mine! I felt... fucking wild. It was so fucking hot, and he was absolutely living for it. It was such a fucking sense of accomplishment. Or maybe better, a sense of triumph--of knowing I was giving my bud a gift that all guys dream about and girls rarely give: a Grade-A blow job. Taking his dick deep inside my mouth and sucking like my fucking life was on the line.
As exciting as that experience was, I was just getting started. I pulled back so just that meaty cockhead was in my mouth and then I set to drive him crazy with my tongue. I swept it in circles around the edge of his cockhead before switching it up to ticking his piss slit with the tip. Sucking as hard as I could to keep maximum pressure on him. He groaned loudly, and clutched at my shoulders, trying to lean in harder into my mouth.
Enough of the finesse shit, I needed to switch to power. I drove back down his shaft again, now slick with my spit. I wrapped my fist around him and started jacking him in a twisting fashion while I mouth-fucked him, and he lost his shit. Nick staggered to try and keep his balance, with his knees nearly buckling as the sensations overthrew him in both body and mind. I was fucking aggressive, laying it on hard and thick with my mouth.
Fuck it was hot... I couldn't believe how hot it was. A short time ago I could never have seen myself doing anything like this. But I was getting as much out of this as he was. I was delivering to him exactly what I wanted in a blow job, bowing to animal passion. And we were connected. In a dance of absolute masculinity. The... sounds of us... his cries of passion layered with the obscenely wet slurping as I sucked him off. The scent of his musk, made more intense by the hormones that had been flooding his body all morning. The feel of skin on skin....
I realized that Nick had doubled over, and was fucking my mouth while desperate to hold his balance. Thrusting. His breath ragged. We were going to be falling all over each other in a second, and not in a good way. I pulled off him with an audible pop and a gasp from my guy. "Over here!" I snarled out, as I all but threw him down on his nearby sofa. I wrenched off his shorts so violently from around his ankles that I thought I would rip them, but I didn't give a fuck. I pushed his legs apart and now had free reign of his cock.
The next few minutes were incredibly intense. I went back to burying my face in his hairy balls, lapping at them and taking them into my mouth, while I roughly jacked his dick. Nick arched his back and barked out encouragement. No longer holding him up, I ran my hands across this torso, fascinated by the feel of his man fur. With one hand I reached up to pinch his nipples, which brought out a hiss that grew into a proper growl. Nick was completely lost in the moment--his left hand wildly rubbing his face and neck, while his right raked through my hair.
I had enough. Suddenly all I could think about was swallowing his load... tasting his spunk. I went back onto his cock full-stop and unleashed the Kraken. I did a combo of sucking him hard while jerking him even harder. Relentless. A force of nature. Nick's ongoing growls ratcheted up in intensity to full blown bellows as his body started bucking in time with my mouth. I kept on, harder. Harder. HARDER.
And finally he crossed the point of no return. His cries became ragged and I could feel his body rolling underneath me. His balls squeezed up and then he fucking exploded in my mouth. I had no idea what my plan was, but it was swept away by the fucking wave after wave of cum that hit me so hard, so fast, I thought I was drowning. Nick absolutely screamed as he shot, and his whole body about convulsed off the couch. Still, the cum kept coming. I swallowed as much as I could, but ended up having to open my mouth and let the rest blurt out into his hairy crotch.
I leaned back on my haunches and tried to catch my breath... damn, my jaw was tired. Nick sat there in the full blaze of glory, his limbs slayed wildly and his head thrown back. I took in the frantic rise and fall of his hairy chest as he tried to get his breathing under control.
After a few seconds, he popped his head up, with a massive shit-eating grin and his eyes absolutely sparkling with glee. If he was tired, he gave no outward sign. Instead, he said simply, "My turn."
He leaned forward and hauled me up, planting a big wet kiss on my well-used mouth. "C'mon!" he said, as he rushed me into the bedroom.
I gathered that Nick had had at least a few minutes to prepare as I rocketed over here--he had laid out a knit bedspread on top of his bed, trying to keep the... uh, spillage... off the sheets. And he had a couple of extra towels at hand.
Good thinking.
Building off my excitement, he moved in to undo my jeans, pulling them down in a couple of rapid, determined tugs. I flipped my shirt over my head as he did so, and in a flash was naked as he was, except for my socks... I was way to horned up to spend any more time with them.
Nick pushed me down so I was sitting at the edge of the bed, smiled up at me, and then fucking attacked my dick with his mouth. There was no fanfare, no titillation; neither of us needed it. I gasped loudly as he locked his lips around me and then fucking inhaled me down his throat.
"FUUUUUUUUUCK!!" I screamed out, taken aback by the intensity of the sensation. I was reminded that even as absolute rookie, Nick was light years ahead of any woman who had ever blown me. And Jesus... it was like he was more into blowing me than I was at getting blown. There was no pause. No hesitation. Just a wave of pleasure unlike anything I had felt as he fucking sucked me, rolling my cockhead in his mouth and playing with my shaft. He was relentless, moving fast as he dove down again and again, and again and again.
Way too soon, I could feel that familiar roar in my head building as I realized I was overstimulated and set to blow. Desperate to prolong things, I put a restraining hand on his head and hissed out, "Dude! Dudedudedudedude! Wait! Slow... slow... slow. I'm way too close." He indeed slowed, and I moaned out "You are doing nothing wrong, but I'm way too fired up. I don't want to end things just yet!"
Nick sloooooowly pulled off my dick entirely, letting it slurp out of his mouth with an obscene, wet slap against my torso. "I bet you have more than one round in you," he said with an evil smirk. "But there are other parts of yours I want to get to!"
I gave out a grateful chuckle, and watched as he moved lower, sliding his mouth around my hairy balls.
While his blowjob was hammer-strokes and fireworks, his technique around my balls was all languid sensuality. It should have been illegal what he was doing with his tongue... God, it was like my balls were crackling with life. The sensation was wet and titillating, yet very much alive... like small electrical charges were sparking all across my skin. He took my balls into his mouth, the suction causing me to catch my breath in wonder. He bathed them over and over, causing me to squirm restlessly... barely able to focus.
When he judged it was safe, he went back to my dick, but this time he moved his tongue across it in slow, wet lines. Spirals. Teasing me. He did a long, streaking lick that went from the tip all the way down to my balls, where he again sucked on my sack, this time jacking me slowly. The whole while, I was letting loose with a nearly incomprehensible slur of vulgarities that allowed for no misunderstanding of how appreciative I was.
But we both wanted more. To really take me in, Nick needed a different position. So, he pulled back and hauled me onto the center of the bed, still laying on my back. Then he cantilevered himself so that he was facing downward toward my feet. And then, he took my dick deep down his throat.
God, I bellowed like a bull running through the streets of Pamplona. His mouth was so... fucking tight. With actual suction. And his tongue snaked down my shaft as he went. It was the executive package of sensations... a blowjob that lit up every part of me. For several minutes I closed my eyes and rolled my head side to side, just basking in the best blowjob of my entire life.
But then I raised my head.
Looking up, I realized that the way Nick was positioned, his hairy ass was inches from my face as he kneeled next to me. The sensations, the hormones, the fucking memory of that hot-as-fuck ass swept over me. Without thought, without hesitation, I grabbed him and pulled one of his knees across me, so he was straddling me. With his ass opened, inches from my face. His butt-funk filled my nose... the primal scent of sex. MAN sex. Somehow, my dick got even harder.
I drove my face into his hairy crack.
The next couple of minutes were a blur. Sensations overwhelmed me, but I got over myself and started eating that hairy ass like it was my last meal on earth. My tongue found his pucker and dove inside as deep as I could. Then I pulled back and started circling his hole, making out with him... then locking on and sucking for all I was worth.
It was amazing. Nick, who was already well fired up, came alive like a fucking wild boar in heat. He fucking howled his lungs out, but with my cock halfway down his throat there was little sound... just a fucking wild vibration that fucking rattled my world. Nick slammed his ass against me, desperate for more. Desperate for sensations.
And I gave it to him. His berserker wilding sparked off an awakening inside me, determined to match him in intensity. I fucking lapped his hairy hole, wildly thrashed my face from side to side, and then raped him with my tongue. Faster and faster, shifting again and again to keep him off balance. He thrashed against me, and went down harder than before on my cock.
His intense reaction sparked a counterreaction in me. I was losing control... and FUCK it was hot. Jesus, the power of those muscles as he desperately ground his ass into my face, the heat of him, his scent... it was all lighting up my reptile brain like no other sex I'd ever had. It was all almost too much for me. I ate his ass like a hyena ripping apart a dead antelope... thrusting, driving my tongue in, faster, rougher, shaking his whole frame as I dug in. Despite having shot a massive load only a few minutes before, he was hard as a rock.
Enough. I needed to fuck.
More fiercely than I had intended, I kicked out from under Nick. He was still sprawled more or less on all fours; I knelt down behind him and wrenched his legs open, giving full access to his spit-sloppy hole. My dick was pretty slicked up from his expert blowjob, so I wasted no time. I tightened my fist around my cock, lined up behind him, and found his hole.
And I fucking rammed him.
Nick screamed like a banshee. "FUCK MAN! Slowslowslow! It's been a while!"
"Sorry!" I hissed, but holy shit I was anything but sorry. My cockhead was inside, and the fucking tightness of was driving me out of my mind. More so because as my head ripped into him, he clenched down hard on me. It was so fucking tight I think I was seeing stars for a minute, and it was the Best. Fucking. Feeling. In. The. World.
I reached under him with my right hand, and started jacking him slowly... his dick was spewing pre-cum, cutting out the friction. I started gentle body thrusts, rocking with him, and in a few minutes I could feel him relaxing and starting to rock with me. My dick teasing his hole, slowly firing his nerve endings.
And then, slowly, Nick shifted from his bent forward position, straightening himself at the waist. From there, he slowly pushed back against me, so that his back began rubbing against my hairy chest. We were... rolling, throbbing against each other, my dick sliding in further with every thrust. He started jacking himself slowly, almost dreamlike, as his head rolled back toward me. It was like he was stretching... no, flexing his muscles, leaning into the sensations filling him... all the while gurgling out a snarling, low-rolling moan.
And as my cock slowly filled his ass, Nick... filled me. Filled all my senses. Awakening parts of me I didn't know I had. From behind him, I started nuzzling his exposed neck with my unshaven jaw, taking in his scent, strong with sweat. Almost in a daze, I moved to mouthing his skin, licking his neck and tasting the salt. With him jacking himself, my hands moved from his cock and started rubbed his hairy chest, finding his nipples and running down his torso. Unlike my girl, Nick was solid. She was smooth, soft and subtle. Nick was hard, and fucking present in a way she wasn't... and could never be. I fucking loved the feel of him. It was like we were... luxuriating in each other. There was only Nick and me.
And with each motion my dick slid further inside his innards. The pressure, the heat of him was fucking electric, filling my mind. But after a few minutes of savoring the powerful sensations, I needed more. I started pushing harder inside him, replacing our rolling waves with increasingly powerful thrusts. Soon I was truly fucking him, my hands instinctively clutching his body, digging in harder and harder.
A steam engine of sensation was building inside me; but as we ground and fucked together, I realized I still needed more. A lot more. From this position, I wasn't able to get the power I needed. And here's the thing: Nick was a guy. He didn't need me to hold back, and he wouldn't get scared off. He could take what I threw down, physically and emotionally. Hell, as a guy, he'd expect nothing less.
And right then, I needed to fucking rut... to fucking pound his ass.
I abruptly released him and pushed him down so he was back on his hands and knees. Then I grabbed his hips and fucking went lights-out on his hairy ass.
I was fucking rough. I didn't care. In the back of my mind, I knew he could keep up... and fucking needed this as much as I did. I slammed into him, again and again. Harder. Fucking HARDER. Nick let out full-on battle cries that slowly dissolved as the wild sensations overtook him: "Oh FUUUUCK! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCKGH MEUGH. FUUUMEE! UUUUGHEEEEEEEE! NGGGGUHHEE!!!" Finally, human speech failed him altogether and was left making animal sounds. He slammed the bed with his fists again and again, then dug his hands in so hard it almost shredded the bedspread. He buried his face in the sheets and bit down hard, like a lion killing its prey. Sweat poured down my body and I fucking howled.
It was straight up male, animal aggression. A corner of my mind was surprised with myself as I let into him. I had totally lost control. It was as if all my frustrations--especially years of built-up sexual frustrations--blew up into sweat-soaked rage, leading me to fucking punish Nick's ass.
I couldn't have kept it up for more than a few minutes--I was WAY too far gone--but those were some of the best few minutes in my life. My mind shattered from the intensity of it all, my whole being was focused on my dick as I slammed into him again like a sledgehammer. Below me I could feel Nick's body tense wildly, as he started out a wailing cry that about ripped his throat apart and fucking came. He shot off like a water cannon, cum splashing everywhere. His ass clamped down hard on my dick... and before I could react, I let loose too, firing shot after shot of spunk deep inside him... the sensations came at me so hard and so fast it completely caught me off guard. It must have been five or six waves of cum, each one so blasting out so hard it felt like the life was being sucked out of me. I almost thought I was going to pass out.
I'm not sure how long it took us to come down from that. Instinctively, I kept thrusting inside him, more like uncontrollable spasms than any conscious action on my part. Finally as the haze started to clear, I realized I was laying on top of him, skin-to-skin with our sweat running together. I was in a stupor; it was like every conscious thought in my mind had been seared away.
Well... that's not entirely true. One thought certainly did remain...
How soon until we could do this again?
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