This is a story involving teen/adult, male/male graphic sex and not intended for reading by minors. If you are a minor, or this type of material is illegal where you live, please stop now, and go read something else! This story is a fantasy meant only for the purpose of pleasurable reading.
Other stories of mine can now be found in the authors' index.
Feedback, always appreciated, may be sent to: javabiscuit@hotmail.com
Arjuna ~ chapter three
by Biscuit
I'd always thought, if I thought about it at all, that the reason guys fucked the way they did was because they didn't have any other way to do it. Like a second best option to fucking the way it was supposed to be. I'd thought the guy who was doing it would be the one getting pleasure -- the other one taking it like some kind of sacrifice. I mean I could imagine wanting to fuck somebody's ass -- there were plenty I'd seen that looked extremely fuckable. Getting fucked was a revelation.
I'd discovered bliss with Freddy's dick inside me, but in my dreams I gave that power over to Bhakti. We magically became lovers while I slept -- in the casual way that you can have anything you want in a dream. As the sweetness of it dissolved in waking, I was blinking in the predawn light of Freddy's room, achy and pinned under him, half numb. I knew as the dream faded that Freddy was a guy I'd fucked, not the guy I was in love with. What I felt was the huge gulf, as big as the physical distance from the East Coast to West, between what I wanted and what I had.
God, he was heavy. His cock was hard and he had it jammed up against my hip. He was moving a little, lazily humping me in his sleep. It must have woken me up.
If I get up and go now, I thought, I can make it to the ashram in time for morning meditation. I could even see myself there in the quiet hall, smell the sandalwood incense.
Who knows what Freddy was dreaming? I'm pretty sure it wasn't about me from the way he squinted at me when I started cautiously wiggling to escape.
"I've got to go," I whispered, as he looked at me like he was trying to place who the fuck I was. He grunted and turned on his back. Sighing deeply, he was sliding his hand under the sheet to his hard cock. The sight of him stroking it held my eyes. I was sitting up but didn't get out of bed, watching the moving shape of his hand on his cock, mine getting hard with more than just the need to piss.
I fucked this man, I thought and waited for the feeling of guilt to rise up. But it didn't. Not like the morning before. He touched my back and I turned a little. He was smiling up at me, in a sleepy, suggestive way, like he was asking, "Are you sure you have to get up now?" His hair was mussed across the pillow and the tilt of his head was speculative. What I saw was a cute guy who looked friendly, horny; somebody I was allowed to touch if I wanted to. My wanting to was building by the second.
It wasn't love, but it was a sweet thing all the same to see his lips swollen from sleep and from me kissing them, knowing I could kiss them again, to be naked in bed with him. It was kind of like being a kid at Christmas when all the gifts are unwrapped and the one you wanted isn't there. The disappointment is bad, but when it's over, you look around and realize you've gotten some pretty cool stuff, anyway.
There was a toasty, yeasty smell when I pushed the covers away to look at him. An awesome sight, his big hand wrapped around his thick cock. Freddy grinned much more broadly as it became obvious I wasn't going anywhere yet. He spread his legs a little and his free hand started roaming over my back and down to my ass. The rough skin of his callouses made me shiver. I felt like he was getting the same charge from touching me that I was from running my hand up his thigh. My fingertips worked down and under the warmth of his balls.
His crotch hair was soft and not too curly, the same dark blond color as the rest of his hair. He seemed fair, like maybe his hair had turned dark late, like a lot of blonds. There was a current, a ghost connection between his cock and my ass as our hands roamed those parts of our bodies that we wanted to plug together. I'd pushed his hand away from his dick and taken hold of it, feeling a surge of animal joy between my legs; remembering how it felt when it was in me. This whole huge thing, I thought, as I ran my hand up and down it. It didn't seem possible, but I wanted it again. I leaned over to kiss it.
The taste and smell of him only made me want it more. My nuts tightened, my mouth got wet and tingly from sucking him. I was on my knees by his side, his hand massaging my ass, rubbing the rounds of my cheeks in his palm, straying downward and back up again.
He moaned a little when I let it out of my mouth to look up at him, my hair falling like a curtain over his crotch. He looked as hot as I felt, his eyes half shut with pleasure, his mouth slightly open. I watched him feel for a condom on the bedside table. He paused with it in his hand.
"Put it on me," he said, holding out the little foil wrapped package.
"Okay," I said, though I wasn't too sure of what I was doing. My first time. I might have looked a little lost because he reached down to help me, getting it the latex circle around the head of his dick and showing me how to roll it down. I loved doing it, like I was being initiated into a ritual. The same with feeling him lube my ass. The stuff felt cold, but soothing, on my tender skin and his fingers working it in were the first hints of what was going to feel so good.
Freddy was the guru and sex was the mystical teaching. It was better than the night before. We were face to face, me on my back. I could see him, his face, his powerful body, which was surprisingly gentle for such a big guy. He took his time getting into me and I wasn't so scared as before.
Being stretched open was still an uncomfortable feeling, but I just kept breathing and pushing to help him. Getting fucked by him was my meditation. Oh God, did I love it, being folded in half, feeling his cock become the core of my body.
That day, I didn't go to the ashram at all. Instead, I went to the store and bought cleaning supplies. While Freddy was at work, I attacked both of the bathrooms, turning them into gleaming little temples of shiny tiles and porcelain, and hung new curtains on the shower stalls. Then I treated myself to a long, hot, luxurious shower.
At Elliott's house that afternoon, over our Celebes coffee and cigarettes, I confessed both my infatuation with Bhakti and my experience with Freddy. Who else could I tell these things to? His bright blue eyes wandered often and I started to worry that I was saying too much. But when I'd trail off and try to wind up the story he'd snap back to attention and prompt me to go on. I realized it was just his style of listening.
His kitchen was sunny and the round wooden table where we sat was worn but shiny. At one point, his hands, which had been clasped on the table top, grew restless, and he reached out suddenly to grasp my hand.
His skin was papery dry but smooth and warm, and his grip surprisingly strong, holding my hand in both of his.
"Juno," he said to me, which was his own personal take on my name. Arjuna just didn't seem to be something anyone wanted to call me. "Be careful with this Fred person." He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. "Alcohol is ... a powerful addiction. He may be okay for awhile, but he'll drink, child.There's isn't a damn thing you can do about that. We need to find you a nice healthy boy like yourself." He smiled then and gave my hand a last squeeze before letting me go.
"You need someone like me," he teased, and that made me smile. I was relieved to leave the more serious subject of alcohol alone. I hadn't said Freddy was an alcoholic and yet Elliott seemed to assume it. I didn't want to think about it.
When it was time to leave, like the day before, Elliott kissed my cheek, to say good bye. I didn't mind the little bit of physical contact he wanted with me. I felt close to him, even though I'd just met him, from the intimacy of talking that he'd encouraged.
I had one more job that day. A wheelchair bound lawyer named Marybeth Wilson needed someone to clean for her three times a week. She couldn't have been more different from Elliott and Rob. She met me at the door, ready to go out, in a stylish suit which didn't hide a pair of shoulders that made me think of a football player. She was in a hurry to go. In a friendly rush, she ran down a list of things she wanted done and then she impressed me no end by motoring her wheelchair onto a lift, and into her van. She waved as she pulled out of her driveway. Amazing. I had such preconceived notions of what a disabled person's life must be like. Marybeth exploded them like a bomb.
Her house was a mess, but the kind that's very easy to clean. Take-out food boxes and beer and wine bottles. It looked like she'd had quite a party. Basically, all I had to do was throw a bunch of trash out, do the dishes and vacuum. My only dilema cropped up in her bedroom. She'd asked me to change the linens on the bed. When I gathered up the satin sheets, amused by the further evidence of her unexpected lifestyle, a brilliant purple vibrator tumbled out of them. Oh God. Impossible to put it back where I found it and pretend I hadn't seen it. I was tempted to put the used linens back on the bed and claim I'd forgotten to change them. But where in the bed had it been? What if I put it back under the covers and she'd left it under the pillow?
I'd never seen one before, up close, and I looked it over, switching it on to feel it buzz in my hand. Without even thinking, when I shut it off, I lifted it up to my nose to sniff it. There wasn't much smell, but what there was reminded me of the smell of Freddy and I got a hard-on almost instantly. Oh Jesus, did I feel like a pervert. The only thing I could think of to do was give it a wipe down with some warm soapy water and set it by the bed. It sat there shiny on the bedside table, accusing me the whole time I spread the new satin sheets on her bed. Damn.
Marybeth's closet was full of beautiful lingerie. I wanted to look at it, but didn't dare. Not after fooling around with her vibrator. The bathroom, which was arranged to accomodate her wheelchair also had a bench in the bath, with rails. I could well imagine her powerful looking arms transferring her weight from her chair into the bath. And yes, I did peek in the cabinet where I saw much used tubes of both lubricant and spermicidal jelly and a box of ribbed condoms.
Cleaning her place left me in a state. I felt a little guilty still about handling her vibrator, but mostly I felt in awe of her. Her life seemed rich and full of pleasure, nothing I would have expected in a million years.
My thoughts wandered to Freddy, wondering if we'd eat dinner together like we had the night before. I was still turned on from being at Marybeth's and was hoping I'd see him. I was wondering, too, I confess, what it would be like to feel something like that purple vibrator in my ass.