Alexander the Great Sean Christian Stephenson (C) 1994, Sean Christian Stephenson, All Rights Reserved.
An edited version of this story has previously been published in Guys, A First Hand Publication under the title "Alexander Was Great."
If you think a disclaimer should go here, then feel free to imagine that it's actually here.
Alexander the Great
Alexander III, son of the conqueror Philip II of Macedonia, studied under the greatest mind of the classical world, Aristotle. He learned horsemanship on the great, black Arabian stallion Bucephalus, a gift from his devoted father. He succeeded his father at the age of twenty, quickly quelled rebellions throughout his father's dominions and went on to create the greatest empire the world had ever seen. He earned the title "the Great," but his devotion to his male lover left him without an heir when he died at the age of thirty-three. Without a doubt, Alexander the Great was one of history's most compelling figures, still fascinating some 2300 years later. But my interest in him only began when I fell in love for the first time in my life and became obsessed with the possibility that history really could repeat itself.
Alexander was one of the most beautiful people I ever met in my life. Even so, I didn't notice him at first. I was sixteen and working with my church youth group when we met. His family had recently joined the church and had been trying to get him into the group for several weeks. Unfortunately, the church was rather fundamentalist in orientation, and he, two years younger than I, wasn't sure that he wanted to be an active participant in such pious activities. Of course, the youth group was not nearly as conservative as the rest of the church -- we were wise-ass teenagers, all of us -- and he fit in easily.
I had discovered the darkness in my own soul, that is to say my sexual orientation, about three years earlier, and was only now beginning to come to terms with it in my own mind. After all, accepting eternal damnation by the edicts of your own society is not easily accomplished. And I had already learned some of the pleasures of all-male sex with friends, noting, with the consternation of the over-righteous, my distinct attractions towards other members of my church group. I did my best to keep my hands to myself, vaguely certain of my place in Hell, but more acutely afraid of exposure. Given my own fears, and my penchant for martyrdom, it seems even stranger that I didn't notice Alexander right away, but the third meeting we both attended would make up for lost time.
I was a well-established leader within the group, which basically meant that most of the younger kids came to me when there was a problem that they didn't want to take to the adults. In a strange way, I had always felt very satisfied in their trust, the way they knew that I would help without getting them in trouble and the emotional bonds that would form in this process. So, in between games of volleyball, campfire-type songs and our token religious service, I spent the time with one kid or another, just talking through stuff. I usually spent a little extra time with new kids, to help them assimilate, but Alexander had quickly gotten up to speed with the group. Consequently, he was like a shadow to me: I knew he was there, but since he didn't seem to need me, I didn't really see him.
I remember my chagrin when I turned in response to a hand on my arm and could not remember the name of the kid who had grabbed me. "Sean," he began with a smile that would have lit most cities on the darkest of nights, "you gonna hang around long after the meeting?"
"Well, I usually wait to make sure everybody's got a ride before I leave." Why hadn't he let go of me? And how had I missed him before?
"I was just wondering -- " he stopped short, but his green eyes were dancing at me beneath long eye-lashes that fluttered up at me.
"You need a ride?" I asked, wanting to kick myself for not remembering his name.
"If you don't mind."
By this time, I was grinning back stupidly. His brown hair, shorter in front, hung in damp, sweaty clumps over and around his eyes. In those few moments, I lost track of everything going on around me as I found myself trapped in those green eyes, bound by the smile that spread from his lips. I have no idea what silly jokes I may have told after I mumbled my assent, but I know I would have said anything to keep that smile on his face, those eyes locked with mine. Gradually, his hand had moved up a few inches to my shoulder, and still he held on to me.
Someone's shout of "Alex!" caught his attention, and he pulled away from me. I felt slightly jealous at first, but realized I was just being foolish. Still, the memory of his face was burned into my mind. When he turned back to me, the spell had been broken, but its ghost lingered.
I was nervous as I took him home, and my mind played games with his name: Alex, Alexander, Alexander the Great! Conquered the known world. I would have been willing to bet that this namesake was capable of filling those sandals himself. Between my nerves, my obvious lack of concentration and glancing at him every chance I had, it's a wonder I didn't kill us both!
When I dropped him off at his house, I purposefully reached over to muss his hair just to touch him, and he smiled again -- that same smile. To be honest, I had no idea what had happened between us, had not even thought about why I had wanted to touch him or make him smile. I just knew that I felt better driving home that night than I ever had in my life.
Over the next two years, Alexander and I became inseparable. When we picked teams, when we picked tent-mates on camping trips, whenever either of us didn't have to be somewhere else, we were together. Our relationship spilled outside of the church group, and we started spending our free time at school together, visiting each other on weekends. In a real way, it was pure agony for me because I knew that I had fallen for him in a bad way. More importantly, I knew that I could never have him because of the homo-phobic environment we lived in.
I think the hardest part for me was waking up next to him. On camping trips, his sleeping bag ended up against my mine, and I remember being grateful for the thick cloth between us that cushioned my erection from him. Invariably, he would be facing me, his nose inches from me, his hand resting above my head. In those minutes before he woke up, I used to brush my lips against his, tasting his breath with my tongue. Eventually, he would wake up giggling, stretch, then settle back against me to whisper nonsense together until we had to get up. Then came the sleep-overs, which only made everything even more complicated.
Against my parents' wishes, I had forsaken pajamas years earlier. He followed suit, and soon we would be curled up under the covers wearing nothing but our briefs. Some nights I didn't get any sleep at all because his nearly naked body would slowly settle against me as he slept, and the feel of his bare skin against my own had me so horny and frustrated that sleep was impossible. What's worse, as we had grown closer, we began to think very little of our physical contact -- when we were alone, that is. If our arms wandered around each other while we slept, or we felt hardened appendages pressing against us through thin cotton briefs, we merely grinned and giggled at each other without comment. I know that we both had problems with sticky shorts from time to time.
Before long, I began to fear that he might be feeling the same way about me. It wasn't just a matter of an occasional hug; hell, I usually initiated those, although he could surprise me at the strangest times. Nor merely the bump-and-grind's when we slept together; certainly that might have happened between any two normal, horny boys, though perhaps not with the same casual disregard. It was more the way he never really needed my help, but wanted me around anyway; the way he looked at me sometimes, with those green eyes, 'lashes pointing; the way he smiled at me for no known reason and a million other things that seem so small.
For example, Alex managed to get into a fight with a couple of other guys one day when the group was on a trip to a local lake about a year after he joined us. I was incredibly pissed-off at him; I mean, the last person I expected trouble from when I was in charge was Alex. I really wanted to lay into him, but I managed to restrain myself when I confronted him about it. "What the hell were you doing?" I asked him. My voice was low so that we couldn't be overheard, but it was definitely a shouted whisper.
He wouldn't meet my eyes, moving only as I directed him while I attempted to coat his cuts with an anti-septic. "They ... they called me ... Alexander."
I dropped the gauze I had been using in disbelief. "They called you -- " I couldn't even finish the sentence. I shook my head as I got clean supplies and started to clean the scrapes on his jaw. "You got into a fight," I began again, "because they called you Alexander? Jesus, Alex, it's your name! Half the time I call you Alexander!"
He shook his head away from my hand -- a kind of a shrug -- then allowed me to catch him with the gauze again. "It was ... it was the way they were saying it. Besides," he lowered his voice, "I like it when you call me Alexander."
God, I almost lost it. He had finally brought his eyes to mine, and my anger disappeared instantly. The fact that he wanted me to call him by a name that no one else would be permitted to use touched me deeply, and I wanted to take him in my arms and just hold him forever. Add to that the intensity of his stare, and I came damn near close to grabbing him and kissing him, right there on the beach in front of God and everyone. My hand was no longer working gauze over wounds, but had cupped his cheek, gently caressing it. I kept my mouth shut for fear of what I might say.
"Sorry," he whispered, finally looking away.
I mumbled something about him staying out of fights from then on, but my heart wasn't in it. Nor was I terribly effective as I talked with his sparring partners. I never heard a word of their explanation; my attention was down the beach with Alex. I let them off with a warning as well.
Alex didn't give me much time to brood over the situation, though. With a smile, he had me back in the water, horse-playing with him and some of the other boys. Funny how he had a way of making me give him all I had despite the pain I would feel later about being so close to him and yet -- well, close enough to touch, yet too far away to feel.
Things started to change when I went away to college. I was miserable most of the time, spending all my time studying and dreaming of being back with Alex. I found myself doing extra- credit research in Ancient History, fascinated with the original Alexander the Great. He had been gay, or at least bisexual, and had nearly destroyed a city when city leaders were implicated in the death of his young lover. Hmm, my Alex had conquered my heart all right, but would he accept my love as well -- could he ever love me?
My visits home started and ended with Alex, and we worked hard to re-capture those old times during summer vacation, but everything seemed so different. Alexander was growing into a handsome young man, fulfilling the promise of his youth, and those long months apart seemed to be tearing us from each other. I had never hurt as much in my life.
Finishing my second year, I rushed home after my last exam, flying down the interstate to make it back for Alex's eighteenth birthday. I was so nervous, I could barely stand myself. Alex and I hadn't written much during this past semester, and I feared that this weekend would be our last.
I arrived at his house thinking that no one was home, but he met me at the door with a cautious smile. His eyes were still that incredible shade of green, and his hair still managed to fall in tufts around them, but the expression was different -- not the same joy I had always sensed before, and just a hint of stubble graced his cheeks. He explained to me that his parents had gone out of town for the weekend, and he was just planning to bum around the house.
"Not much of a birthday," I said.
He smiled shyly, looking down at his feet. "We celebrated earlier this week."
"I'm sorry I missed it."
"Me, too."
"Hey, you shouldn't spend your eighteenth birthday here alone. Let me at least take you to dinner." Were the sparkles coming back into his eyes?
"I'd like that, Sean."
Unfortunately, dinner turned out to be pure hell. The conversation was wooden as we talked hesitantly about school and Alex's plans for after graduation. Even though we would be attending the same college, we couldn't seem to sustain any kind of on-going discussion. We tried talking about our shared memories, but that faltered as well. At least the food was good.
As I drove him home, we sat in a silence enhanced by the radio's low hum. I knew then that our relationship was really over, over before I had ever told him how much I loved him. I wanted to tell him now, but I just couldn't get up the nerve.
We pulled into the driveway, and I cut off the car. For a long time nothing happened. When he finally spoke, I nearly jumped.
"Why don't you come in, Sean?"
"I don't know, Alex. I -- "
Suddenly, he grinned at me -- the way he used to. Grabbing my arm, he started the old banter, "Come on in, Sean. Hell, spend the night; I mean, it's not like you got somebody better to spend the night with."
His hand on my arm, his eye-lashes batting and those eyes locking with my own, I felt a strange deja vous come over me. It was that much like our first meeting. I even started to counter, "Well, I know you ain't got no one better to spend your night ...." Half an hour before, I had been so certain that everything was finished, and now I found myself back at the beginning. The trouble was, I wasn't so sure I wanted to go through it all over again.
"I don't think I should."
His hand started to withdraw, then moved around my head as he slid next to me on the seat and wrapped and arm around my neck -- the old "noogie" position. "What's 'a matter, Stephenson? College make you forget your old friends?"
I knew he was joking, but his body against mine was driving me crazy. I felt his breath on my ear, and the hairs on my neck started to stand up; goose bumps tickled my arms. "Cut it out, Alex!"
"Uh-uh, Sean; you don't get away that easy."
As his arm tightened around my neck, I had an impulse to kiss him, or hit him as hard as I could. Instead, I started crying. "God damn it, Alex; stop!"
His arm immediately loosened, but stayed around my neck. "Hey, I'm sorry, Sean. I don't know what's bothering you, but I didn't mean to ...."
I looked up at him with tear-blurred eyes, saw the concern written in his face. It wasn't suppose to be like this! I had fantasized that things would start out right where we had left off before I went to college and slowly move to the point where we confessed our love for each other and moved on to more intimate pursuits, but had already given up that fantasy. It just wasn't fair for him to bring it up again. "Damn you," I sobbed. He looked as if I had hit him.
"I'm sorry; I didn't mean that. It's just ... Alexander, I love you. I wish I didn't, but -- "
"Liar."
"Huh?" Caught by surprise, I sniffled in silence.
"Sean, we been friends for -- what, four years? In those four years, I've never known you to back away from how you felt."
"But, you don't understand!"
He grinned, "I don't, huh?" Before I realized it, his lips were against mine, pressing tightly. His tongue found its way between my lips and pushed until my teeth parted to accept it. Even as his lips moved away, they lingered on my cheek, whispering in my ear, "Tell me again how I don't understand."
I pushed him away and stared stupidly. His hand had caught my neck, and he started caressing it, tickling his fingers up and down. The smile that crossed his face brought the sparkles back to his eyes, and I wondered how I could have ever thought that our friendship was gone. Still, I knew that he must be doing this because he thinks it's what I want; I mean, he couldn't really be in love with me, could he?
"Alex, you don't have to -- "
"Get real, Sean. I'm not doing anything I don't want to do, that I haven't wanted to do since we met." His smile was as gentle as the finger that he used to brush a tear from my face. "You were so perfect: strong, yet sweet; handsome and manly; I watched you make the rounds of all the guys that evening, helping out with a smile here, listening to a problem there. I didn't need a ride home that night, and I didn't know exactly why I asked you, except ... I didn't feel too good thinking about you leaving without me."
His eyes turned upwards and softened as his mind moved into memories. "You know, I remember the first time I woke up on a camping trip and felt you kissing me. God, I felt so special!"
Then he pulled me back to him, and I felt his hands running through my hair as his lips teased my face. Of their own volition, my own hands sought his back and pulled him closer even as my mouth opened to accept his tongue. I could smell his aftershave as I trailed my lips to his neck and slowly began licking, kissing the flesh below his ears. "Alexander," I whispered between nibbles at the bottom of his lobes, "Alexander."
By this time, his face was buried in my neck, and I felt his teeth gently digging into the tender flesh there. Both of us were breathing harder, harsh gasps filling the night. I thought I was at the peak of passion, but then his hand ran up my thigh and took me even higher. I was pulling his shirt-tails out of the back of his pants, when he stopped me.
"Let's go inside," he punctuated with a quick kiss. "You can call your parents and let them know you're staying with me tonight."
I nibbled at his lower lip, intoxicated by his breath. "They don't expect me until tomorrow."
"Then what are we waiting for?"
He got out of the car and made a dash for the house, while I sat there barely able to move. He opened the front door, turning back to face me, and the look he gave me was enough to mobilize my inert body. I honestly don't remember leaving the car, but I found myself inside the doorway. Alex was nowhere in sight.
I shut and locked the door, turning to investigate. "Alex?" I called hesitantly: no response. I worked my way through the living-room to the stairway where I found Alex's shirt, abandoned about halfway up. Smiling to myself, I swallowed hard and moved up the stairs, nearly tripping on Alex's shoes at the top. His socks were scattered in the upstairs hallway, but his jeans were on the floor pointing towards his bedroom. Reaching for the doorknob, I stopped abruptly as my hands closed around his white fruit-of-the-loom's. I pulled them off of the doorknob with shaky hands. My knees were weak as I remembered all the times I had pressed myself against those shorts -- or others like them, anyway -- desperately wanting what was inside them, and now I was going to get it!
I pulled them to my face, luxuriating in the feel of the soft, warm cotton against my cheeks. As I breathed, I caught his scent -- a combination of the aftershave he wore and the damp smell of his sweat; I inhaled deeply. My anticipation of what awaited me on the other side mounting, I opened the door.
The bedroom was empty. I carefully looked around me, even bent over to look under the bed, but Alex wasn't here. I thought again of the trail of clothes that had led me here; was it possible I hadn't followed them to the right place? Surely, he should be here, naked on the bed, waiting for me. The thought of him wandering the house, totally naked, struck me suddenly, incredibly absurd, yet wonderfully exciting. Of course, Alex had always had a bizarre sense of humor, but if this were a joke, he would soon be dead.
My eyes caught movement at my side, and I turned around just as Alex, every bit as naked as I had imagined, landed against me, driving both of us to the bed. Instinctively, my arms flew up, but he was too close, and my hands found each other in the empty space behind him. As his arms moved down to his side to trap mine, I hollered, "What the hell are you doing?"
"Surrender," he said. Those green eyes sparkled with pleasure high above me while his hard cock pressed at my stomach, just the other side of my shirt. I hadn't even had time to admire the beauty of his body when he had jumped me, but my mind drew every line in a detail too vivid for me to stand.
"Eat shit," I stuttered, trying to maintain custom. Meanwhile, my arms struggled in vain for freedom. Giving that up, they strained to reach for his ass, but again failed.
His eyes moved closer, his tongue extending to tickle my upper lip. "Surrender," he whispered again before his tongue moved again to circle my lips.
"Never." I began bucking my hips, but the give of the bed beneath me gave him all the leverage he needed to hold me down -- especially as I couldn't seem to force myself to use all my strength to get away from him.
"You're mine, Sean," he whispered, huskily. The smile had left his face now, but his eyes sparkled even brighter as he pressed his lips to mine and forced his tongue into my mouth. So easily broken, I sucked eagerly on his tongue, bringing my own tongue to play with his. He backed off slightly, still confining my arms; "Say it," he said.
I didn't hesitate once. "I'm yours, Alex," I said breathlessly, "all yours."
A slight smile returned as he let go of my arms and gently stroked my face with his hand. "And I, yours."
My hands drank of the feel of his skin beneath them as they roved along his back and shoulders, slowly angling towards the soft cleft down his spinal column. He shifted subtly so that his right knee rested atop my crotch, gently massaging my hardened cock through my clothes. Again we kissed, and I felt his hands unbuttoning my shirt.
Gently, his teeth scraped down my chin as his mouth sucked lightly on the point of my chin, then traced down my neck to the skin his hands revealed as they opened button after button. My own hands had found the swells of his ass-cheeks and tenderly caressed the smooth globes. My body was shaking under the pressure of him, the incredible feeling of his lips on me.
My fingertips found the crack of his ass and timidly explored its depths. Alex moaned and clamped his lips around my right nipple, his fingers teasing and twirling the hair around the left. A middle finger found the wrinkled pucker of his anus and began to rub that hot, wondrous spot. Alex's lips pulled harder at my nipple, and my finger responded in kind. His hand left my chest and moved back to the remaining buttons frantically, nearly ripping them off in his frenzied struggle to get my shirt off.
Every movement I made excited him more, and his excitement brought instant pleasure back to me, causing me to work even harder. His tongue began to move faster across my chest, his hands tugging desperately at my belt. My finger moved over his anus more insistently.
"God, Sean!" he cried, grinding his hard dick into the rough denim covering my leg. His teeth caught on my left nipple, and my finger penetrated his ass suddenly, sliding into his deep warmth. His head lifted up from my chest, lips pulling away from his teeth. As I realized he was coming, I pushed my finger in farther, gently wiggling it inside him. As he pumped his ass beneath my hand, the leg of my jeans began to soak.
His body writhed in my arms, straining as if to break free, but holding tightly to me. His eyes were crushed closed, and low moans escaped his throat with each breath he let out. I stared in wonder and awe at the his sheer beauty, moved by the knowledge that the intensity of his orgasm was pushed to the max by my presence and actions. I very nearly came myself.
Slowly, he settled back down against me, teeth chattering with the force of his exertions. As his face snuggled into my neck, I realized that Alex was crying. I pulled my finger from him to stroke his back.
"What's wrong, Alex?"
"I wanted it to be perfect," he whispered, shuddering. "I wanted us to -- " he couldn't finish.
I slipped a hand under his chin and pulled his face up to look at me. "Alex, my love, that was the most incredible experience I've ever had. How could it be more perfect?"
"But you didn't -- "
"The night's young yet," I smiled.
"But I've already -- "
"Shh!" I whispered. My hand left his chest to find his dick, now limp and soaked with his cum. I snuggled my hand around it, shivering as I realized the depths of my desire for him. "This thing may be down at the moment, but I don't think you're out for the count. I plan on exploring every inch of your body with my tongue, and I don't think hardness will be a problem for very long."
I leaned forward to kiss him, lips to lips, a short, sweet kiss that started a second and a third. As predicted, I felt his cock beginning to stir in my hand. I released it to run my fingers through the thick cum that covered my jeans and his body. I brought my hand to his face, covered with his cream and tasted it before slowly rubbing it over his cheeks and lips. Then I started licking his face clean. His own tongue snaked out of his mouth, and occasionally our tongues battled for the cum.
When we had cleaned his face, I made him get up so that I could look at him. As I lay back on the bed staring, I remembered the kid I had fallen in love with so many years before. The shoulders were broader now, the arms and chest more muscular, but just as devoid of hair as the first time I saw him naked in a locker room. His nipples centered each pec, hard and inviting. My eyes slid down over his flat stomach, noting the indent of his navel, and then past to the tan-line where his skin changed abruptly from a medium tan to pure white. My gaze lingered on the long creases where his legs joined his groin before moving to his penis.
Here, the years had been kindest. I recalled how thin and small his penis had been, nestled beneath a sparse growth of curly brown hair slowly inching its way south; now, his cock stirred, slowly returning to its seven-inch glory, emerging from a luxurious bush of curls. I thought of the bare, pink balls that had once only bulged slightly beneath his cock, now fuller and hanging low from his crotch, dotted teasingly with thin brown hairs. I licked my lips in anticipation of a more thorough investigation of his anatomy.
His legs were still smooth, but they were longer now, thick with the muscles that had only been promises those years ago. I slowly followed them down to knees, catching a thin, nearly invisible growth of hair on the shins below. His feet were a perfect ending to the body, a healthy arch that cried for the touch of a hand, a graceful curve that stretched to beautiful toes with well-kept nails.
My glance slowly moved back to his face. He had blushed beneath my gaze, making his sweet, innocent face seem all the more beautiful for his naughtiness. I motioned for him to turn around, slowly, and I gasped as he complied, bringing the sheer beauty of his butt to my attention. The cheeks were full, but by no means flabby. Under my inspection, the gluteus tensed, revealing the muscle's tone and shape beneath the thin layer of fat. I studied the crease that began along his spine, remembering how my finger had traveled that path moments earlier. My mind drifted in dreams of becoming buried in that vault.
Sitting up quickly, I pulled him to me, darting my tongue into his belly-button and savoring the sweetness of his skin. I felt the head of his cock on the underside of my chin, and lowered my head to capture the large glans against my lips. Slowly, I kissed and licked that beauty in preamble to swallowing it whole, but Alex pulled away.
"What's wrong, Alexander?"
"You're getting me so hot again, and you're not even undressed yet," he replied. "I think its time to do something about that."
Truth to tell, I had long forgotten the shirt that still hung open on my shoulders, the jeans still damp with Alex's climax. I don't think it would have bothered me if I had kept them on, just so long as I had Alex before me. Of course, if Alex wanted me naked as well, I wasn't going to object. I pulled my un-buttoned shirt off, but Alex grabbed my hand before I could fling it to the floor.
"I want to do that," he said quietly as he took the shirt from me and pushed me flat against the bed. Standing over me, he carefully folded my shirt before tossing it ceremoniously over his shoulder to the ground, his eyes twinkling.
He knelt at the foot of the bed, his face visible just beyond my knees and began untying my shoe-laces. Slowly he pulled the strings, allowing them to slide smoothly and slip free of the knot before stretching the leather out and off of my feet. His hands reached up into the legs of my pants one at a time, his fingers dancing in the short hair of my legs until they finally grasped the top of each sock, pulling them down as he pressed the soft fabric against my calf and foot. He paused, examining my feet with his tickling fingertips, tracing the instep and sole of each before digging deeper to run along the paths made by the bones.
My hands were claws, reaching for him with a need growing ever-more urgent, but he slipped carefully out of my reach before pushing me back down and moving about his task. I wiggled along the top of the bed with the ecstacy and tension his fingers created, feeling my body -- and my cock -- slip into a higher gear of pleasure. I feared that my own reaction would occur even more prematurely than Alex's had, before he'd even had the chance to liberate me from my jeans.
And then his hands were still, and I looked up to see him standing again. He leaned closely over me, bringing his lips into the hair along the center of my chest. I could only gasp in excitement as his lips played back and forth, traveling between nipples with barely a pause to slip one or the other into his mouth.
I watched as his beautiful face pressed into my stomach, still somewhat amazed at the thought of my favorite fantasy coming true. Slowly, I saw his nose move down my stomach, felt his tongue tease and enter my navel. His fingers once again graced my belt-buckle, but his earlier awkwardness was now replaced with finesse. Even while his fingers completed their work, his palms pressed smoothly along either side of my zipper, slowly massaging my aching cock.
Quite independent of my control, my hips began rocking, pressing my cock tighter against his hand as he un-did my pants. Cuing me to lift my buttocks, his hands moved to either side, grasping the waist band of my jeans. He slid these down just as he had my socks -- pressing the fabric tightly against my skin as they slowly traveled down my legs and over my feet.
Impatiently, my hands moved to remove my black briefs but drew back instantly, the surprise more than the sting of a slap driving them back. "Uh-uh," Alex grinned at me, and his hands returned to their previous, agonizing, slow movements across me.
I felt his hard cock press against my lower leg as he settled into a sitting position atop me, nearly bending double to trace the skin along the waist-band of my underwear with his tongue, carefully grazing my own hardened cock with his chin. My right leg stiffened beneath him, driven by his onslaught to move, yet trapped tightly.
His hand grasped my balls beneath the cotton fabric, slowly but insistently massaging them. His face moved onto my briefs, pressing against my cock as he breathed deeply, gently licking and nibbling at the moist areas left by the damp tip of my dick. Again, my hands reached for him, and once more they were pushed away as he smiled up at me, glancing through strands of his brown hair.
"Alex," I gasped, "I can't take much more!"
His smile only broadened before he returned to his work. Without letting go of my balls, he pulled at my briefs just enough to allow my prick to stand free and straining at my stomach. His breath washed it, causing it to throb.
For the first time, I saw a look of uncertainty in his face. He glanced up at me, almost frightened. I wanted to tell him he could stop, but my lips simply hung open to allow the ragged breaths pumping from my chest to escape. He looked back at my cock, and I saw his tongue slowly begin to descend from his lips, pausing only to wet them.
My body tensed in anticipation; knowing how close I was to orgasm, I feared I might never know the feel of his lips against me, never feel the warmth of his mouth engulfing me. But Alexander proved to be a merciful conqueror.
His tongue darted along the underside of my cock, wetting it from base to the flair of the head, then onward to play in the indent of my piss-hole. My own tongue tasted the sweat beading on my upper lip while large drops rolled down my flesh elsewhere to pool in folds of skin and soak the sheets beneath me.
Now his lips travelled the same path, and I caught the glint of his eyes as they quickly examined my face. More confidently, he took the tip of my penis between his lips, allowing his tongue to press the sensitive flesh. Just the other side of briefs that barely hung on my hips, his hand continued its rhythmic massage on my balls.
Suddenly the world tilted as the heat of Alex's mouth slowly slid down the length of my cock, warmly, moistly caressing it. My eyes had long ceased seeing, but the image of Alex's lips stretched around me permeated my brain, burning into me. "Alex," I gasped as if calling his name was my only hold to the reality of our love. His response was immediate, pulling his lips back over my cock to once again tongue the head and descend again.
My whole body jumped, fire racing along every nerve-path. He was nearly dislodged as I bucked harder and harder, almost hoping his mouth would leave me before I died from sheer pleasure. I couldn't breath and didn't care; breathlessly, I screamed, "Alexander!" over and over, knowing he couldn't hear me. Then even that was lost as I felt something deep in my crotch explode, and I sat up as spasms hit my lower belly.
Sometime later, I realized that Alex had never removed his lips from my cock, though somehow, my shorts had disappeared. A gentle breeze hit my sweat-soaked body, and chills shook me violently. I reached for Alex, and this time his hands didn't stop me. My fingers twirled gently in his long hair, trying to entice him to leave my cock alone for awhile.
Slowly, his lips released my dick, which had briefly considered softening, then thought better. He looked up at me, smiling, and I thought I would die.
"Alexander," I whispered, "I love you." Even in my own ears, it sounded stupid, but no other words could escape my lips. "I love you," I repeated, then repeated again.
He slid up the bed, then gently bent his head down and kissed me. Until that moment, I had known no urgency other than lust, but my lust had been temporarily sated. Still the kiss held urgency and I pulled him into my arms, wanting to hold him there with me forever. Just as softly as the kiss had begun, he stopped, moving to curl up against me. His head rested on my shoulder, and though I knew we were both erect and anxious to begin our sexual liaison again, we were in no hurry.
I lightly kissed his forehead, and saw him smile at me as his fingers began to twirl in the hair on my chest. "God, Alex," I whispered, "I've never come like that in my entire life."
"It was intense," he giggled. "I wasn't sure you were still with me for a while."
"Oh, I was with you, that much I'm certain of. Where we were, now that's another question entirely."
His grin broadened, then grew wistful. "What happens tomorrow?"
"Assuming I'm capable, I make a token appearance at home, then get back here as fast as I can."
"No ... I meant ...." His words hung there between us, suspended by the fear in his eyes.
"Between us or out there," I gestured widely, arching my back against sheets that stuck to me, plastered by the sweat of my exhaustion.
"Both, I guess."
"Alex, I can't speak for anything but myself. I just don't know what tomorrow may hold, but I do know that I'll face whatever it is. Of course, with you beside me ...."
His look startled me. "You do want to be beside me, don't you?"
"Sean, I -- yes, more than anything. But I'm scared. I mean, it's so hard."
"I can see that," I replied, reaching for his penis.
"That's not what I meant!"
"I know. But it was hard to imagine not having you near me even before tonight. Now that scares me more than anything. I love you, Alex, and I don't want to lose that."
"What if it doesn't work, what if --"
"We'll deal with it if and when it comes up."
"Oh, Sean, you make it sound so easy."
"Maybe, but I guess we know better, huh?" He nodded as reply. "Look, it all comes down to how we feel about each other and what we want to do about it."
He suddenly sat up on an elbow to look me in the eyes. "Maybe it is easy if that's all there is to it. I love you, Sean, and I always want to be with you." Slowly, his head moved closer, lips reaching for mine. My arms found themselves folding him into me as we kissed, and I rolled over on top of him, smothering him in my love.
I paused to whisper, "I want you," in his ear before my tongue traveled the curl of his ear, then moved down the side of his face to his neck. His hands grasped the sides of my head as he moaned his approval. I kissed his neck, bit it, sucked at it while my own hands gently roamed his sides. I could feel his hard cock beneath me while I slid a little further down to taste his shoulders. Now we were both moaning again: he -- in pleasure, me -- with desire.
His shoulders were sweet against my tongue, smooth beneath my lips. Ever so slowly, I moved downwards, delving into the pits of his arms to breath in the downy forest of hair that grew rich with the mild smell and taste of his sweat. Still my lips moved downward to tease at his nipples, occasionally catching one or the other between my teeth, a swift nibble then onward.
My tongue traced the lower ribs where they jutted above his heaving belly. My fingers moved upwards once more to cup and squeeze his small breasts, tweaking the nipples as they caught between fingers. His hands topped mine as my face attached itself to the soft skin of his stomach, marveling at the hardness beneath the surface. His fingers stretched beneath mine, and I turned my palms upward, eagerly grasping his hands. I burrowed into his navel with my tongue, replacing the pool of sweat with saliva.
Then his cock was once again against my chin, but my lips ignore it, trailing the smooth, white crotch around it. My tongue found the crease where thigh met groin and slowly painted up one side and down again, never once touching his genitals. I lifted his legs, parting them slightly to continue my trek down the inner sides of his thighs, pausing on the underside of his knees.
Further I slid, until my own knees rested on the floor with his legs spread around my head and tickling tongue, held in place by the arms that stretched upward to hold his hands. I released my hold to move even further down, where my tongue feasted on his in-step. He moaned, his toes quivering before my eyes as I lathered the bottom of his feet. I may have spent a year moving down his body, and I wanted to spend another year moving back up, but I had ideas that hurried my movements along.
Reluctantly, I pulled my mouth from his feet and spread his legs once more, bending them upwards at the knees. The view was pure heaven! Right in front of me, his cock pointed upwards at the ceiling, rising high above the foundation formed of a wrinkled bag of skin, twin bulges separated by a smooth seam down the middle. Framing both were scant brown hairs that enhanced, rather than hid the beauties before me. The hairs thinned as they suddenly dove beneath his scrotum and into the cleft beneath. Urging his knees higher, I moved in closer.
It was still slightly stretched from my finger, but gently puckered as if waiting for a kiss; I didn't keep it waiting long. I literally dove between his legs to kiss his sweet asshole. My tongue lapped along the crack, brushing harshly against his hole, then moving north to tickle his balls. I felt drunk with lust as my tongue dug into him, slipping past the tough sphincters that guarded his asshole.
By this time, Alex was nearly screaming, but I would not stop. Deeper I pressed into him with my tongue, while savagely pressing his legs into his body to allow me easier access. Then I slipped out to capture his balls in my mouth. Gently I rolled the hard, inner cores with my tongue until they tightened against his body and pulled from my mouth. I noted the drops of clear cream dripping from the tip of his penis, and once more moved down to drive my tongue into his ass. I would have stayed there, but I had not yet tasted his gorgeous cock.
So I withdrew once more, dragging my tongue along the seam of his balls and up the bottom of his shaft. The salty taste of his seminal fluids urged me on, and I rapidly swallowed the head of his cock, pressing it tightly with my tongue inside my mouth. Alexander's legs draped over my shoulders, I felt his heels digging at my back. With the inspiration of the truly horny, I quickly slipped a finger up his ass as I plunged my mouth down his delicious dick, keeping the pressure of my tongue and tight lips against him.
When his cock hit the back of my throat, I knew I didn't have enough -- knew I might never get enough. My lips slipped up to the crown again, my finger withdrawing at the same time, only for both to plunge once more. It's a wonder I didn't choke myself, but I took him deeper into me as my finger charged deeper into him. Once more, and then he did scream.
His cock surged in my mouth, asshole clamped on my finger, and I felt rather than tasted his hot semen spraying into my throat. Quickly I swallowed, battling against his thrusts to slip back up to the head to taste that sticky-sweet juice. His heels dug into my back, pressing his buttocks higher into the air as I fought frantically to swallow his offering.
My finger continued to plumb in and out until his legs gave way and his weight dropped onto the bed, driving my finger back up his asshole one last time. Slowly, my lips massaged the length of his cock, already starting to soften in my mouth. Cum still flowed from him, but merely drops now, no longer strong spurts. I heard his ragged breathing and looked up to see him heaving on the bed, his eyes open but unfocused.
I let his limp cock drop from my mouth, then paused to kiss the tip once more. My finger slid gently out of him as I began kissing my way back up to his face, following the path I had made earlier. His hands in my hair hastened the trip as he pulled my mouth to his urgently, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I sucked on it as hard as I had his cock, feeling my own checks expanding with the force of his breath.
Where I had been relaxed after my blow-job, Alexander only seemed more intense, more desperate. His hands pulled at my body, rubbing, caressing as he kissed me even harder. His hand closed on my cock and squeezed tightly.
Suddenly his legs were around my back and my cock rode the cleft of his ass. His asshole felt hot as it passed over my shaft, and I used every last ounce of restraint to keep myself from plunging into him.
"Do it, Sean!" he hissed. "I want you in me."
"We shouldn't without --"
"Now, damnit!"
I tried to pull away from him, but his legs held me tightly. His hand reached for me, to aim my cock, but I knew that he wouldn't be able to take me dry. I wanted to get a rubber -- the age of AIDS, you know -- though I knew there was no chance of disease: I had tested negative -- no surprise as my only sex partners had been the guys I had fooled around with at puberty and our early teens, and I suspected Alex was a virgin. (He later confirmed my theory.)
"We need some oil or something, Alex! It'll hurt if we don't --"
"Reach to my bed-table. There's some vaseline in the drawer. Get it." He fired his statements like a machine gun, quick, short bursts that gained intensity. "Do it now!"
Tears were streaming down his face as I reached into the drawer and found the tube of petroleum jelly. I nearly dropped the thing trying to get it open, but Alex grabbed it from me, squirting some into his palm. He again reached for me, and I felt fire on my cock as his palm, coated as it was, engulfed my cock and began spreading the slippery jelly. Then his hand released me and moved to work at his own ass.
Finally, he grasped my cock once more, placing the head against the pucker of his anus. His grip pulled me tighter, stuffing my pointed dick into him slowly.
As I slipped through the tight ring of muscle, I felt my hair stand on end. I couldn't believe how hot and tight he was! The urge to plunge home almost overcame me once more, but I saw the pain etched on Alex's face, the tears falling faster from squinted eyes, and knew that I would have to go slowly. Deeper I moved, but centimeters at a time.
When I felt my head complete its entry, I moved a little faster, but was stopped by a groan. Gasping, Alex grunted, "God, it hurts!"
That was it; I didn't care how great it felt, there was no way I wanted to see Alex hurt. I started pulling back, but his hand grabbed my cock again, his eyes flashing fire at me while his legs slipped around my buttocks holding me in place.
"Don't!" he screamed. "You can't stop, God damn you! I want you to fuck me!"
"Alex," I hollered back, "I can't ...."
His face contorted; shivers ran across his head and chest. "You damn well better! I want your dick all the way in me, NOW!"
Alex's legs pulled at my buttocks; the fingers of his left hand twirled in my hair. Catching locks in his fist, he pulled them as well, and I felt my cock slide into him -- rapidly sinking to the base even as I fell flat against him. His teeth bit deeply into my shoulder, smothering his screams. My own voice rang clearly through the room, raised in pain, joy and a pleasure I had never imagined. Beneath my navel, I felt Alex's cock stirring once more.
His teeth nibbled now at my shoulder, groaning at me, "God, Sean! God, please fuck me!"
Slowly I started to withdraw my cock, then pressed forward again. Initially I was moving slowly, pulling out only an inch or so before pushing back into him. His nibbles turned to kisses, and my pace began to pick up. Soon, only the head of my dick remained in him when I plunged into his depths. Alex was now laying back flat, his eyes glazed and unresponsive.
"Alex, I love you!" my voice rasped at him. His hands flew behind my neck and pulled me tighter, our lips searching across each other's bare flesh to find each other.
"Oh, Sean," he moaned at me between kisses, "God, it feels ... so good!"
I knew I wouldn't hold out much longer, so I began pumping him even harder, ever faster. His ass moved in rhythm beneath me as his hands moved along my back, massaging and scratching at my skin. I felt his hands grab my ass, pull the cheeks apart. Somehow, the heel of his foot pressed into the crack of my ass, right against my own asshole, and I couldn't take anymore.
I could write as many pages as I already have here describing how I felt, as my cum pumped into Alex, how it felt when the cum from his third orgasm splashed between us, but I couldn't do it justice. Maybe English just doesn't have the words to describe it, but I suspect that no language could fill that bill.
I can tell you, though, that I loved Alex in that moment like I'd never loved anyone else in my life -- like I've never felt since. In that moment, and those that followed, I could sense his presence, his thoughts beneath me. There was no he or I -- just we. We never really lost that.
And in that moment, though I had always scoffed at the notion, I conceded the possibility of reincarnation. Perhaps he truly was Alexander the Great, and I, his slave-boy/lover. Or perhaps it was just a foolish, romantic hope that our love had existed from the dawn of time, that the two of us had always loved each other and would continue to do so for all eternity. I guess I'm still a skeptic, but I wonder, from time to time, how our love, so new and fresh, had seemed so perfect and endless. And I still cherish those thoughts.
Of course, we were only together for five or six years after that first night together. My career in human services led me back home, but Alexander the Great had worlds to conquer and moved on to the big city. We parted as friends, though our love has never diminished. We see each other when we can and talk on the phone every week. And if we've moved on to other lovers, the relationship we built over the years since we met -- as friends and lovers -- has endured them all undaunted.
Still, I love to think back on those years when Alexander and I were young and falling in love.