Chapter One Blake & Brock
It started out a typical Saturday night. Now, I don't know where you're from, but Saturday nights in central Indiana are typically quite lame. Especially if you're a 20-year- old college drop-out turned stock broker who just happens to be gay; not quite old enough to hit the bar scene, yet not connected enough anymore for the college scene or frat parties.
So, as was my usual routine, I sat alone in one of the local trendy coffee houses, sipping a double espresso with amaretto and smoking cigarettes. Some local folk group was crooning away in the background as I reviewed some market reports from the previous week and dreamed of which color I would order my new Lexus in next month. The place was getting rather crowded, lucky for me I'd gotten a good table on the main floor, far enough away from the door to stay warm, but with an excellent view as the people came and went.
I love watching people, wondering about them; where they've come from, where they're going, what their lives might be like. As a professional salesman, the study of people is extremely important to my income. Anyway, I'm rambling. I suppose I should tell you a bit about myself...
The name's Blake. Blake David Thomas. I'm 6'1", blonde, athletic build, tan complexion (yeah, it's completely natural, thank you!) and green eyes. And as I said earlier, I'm gay. I've known since I was 15, thanks to an amazing experience with my best boyhood friend, but that's for another story! I left college after my freshman year, thanks in part to my good friend Jack Daniels... Went to work for an investment firm as an assistant and within nine months I was a fully licensed broker. I own my own condo, two cars and a small ski boat that I use for fishing on the weekends.
Yeah, I know. I probably sound like an arrogant prick, but I bet you wish we were dating, too, eh? Truth is I'm just very proud of what I've got. I worked hard and earned every last dime, thank you very much! God, I'm rambling again... So, now you know a little about me. Probably more than you wanted to, I'll bet...
"Is this seat taken?" I'm jolted from my papers by a voice, somehow familiar, the voice of a young man. I look up to find him staring intently at me, hot mug of java in his hand and a large grin breaking out across his face.
"My God, small world, isn't it?" I say as I extend my hand to him. "How've you been, Brock? It's been a long time!" He quickly shakes my outstretched hand, a warm, firm grip and then sits down across the table from me.
"Dude, it's been forever since I've seen you! This is so cool! I was really hoping I'd see old friends tonight." He smiles broadly, his features glowing. Probably in part from the hot coffee and part just genuine happiness. We exchange pleasantries and small talk for a few, listening to the music and sipping our drinks. He looks great!
Brock Mikels stood about 5'6", 140 lbs of slim muscle, light brown hair that was cut short and ice blue eyes. Eyes that shined like stars when he was happy. He was a young man in a boy's body, those youthful good looks. And God, it was a beautiful body! His broad smile could light up a crowded room, spreading his joy and for as long as I'd known him, he seemed always to be happy.
"Semester end early? Home for Christmas break?"
"Yeah, I finished up two days ago and got back in town last night. You're actually the first person I've seen outside of family." Man that smile. It could take your breath away.
We caught up on each other's lives over the next hour. Brock attended a very small Christian college in Michigan and had just finished his first semester. He enjoyed his classes, was active in campus music and ministry programs, as well as student government and he had just been elected class chaplain. He had a ton of friends and an extremely active social calendar. He was majoring in music ministry and wanted to become a Christian musician, to write and perform for a living. An excellent venue for him, as he could play guitar and piano, plus he had the most amazing voice. Not overly powerful, just soft and melodic, very soothing and comforting.
He had been writing and performing his own material since before I'd known him, spending many nights performing for a full house in this very coffee shop throughout high school. Wherever he went, Brock Mikels could always draw a crowd. His voice, magnetic personality and boyish good looks seemed to be a killer combination.
Unlike me, Brock was very strong in his faith. I believe in God, but due to my "discovery" of myself, I am a little unsure of His place in my life. Throughout our friendship, Brock had often served as my spiritual advisor and guide. He had no idea (I didn't think, at least) I was gay, but his unwavering support through other problems in my life and my encouragement of his music and occasional role as older brother and keyboard player had cemented our friendship over the years.
Truth be told, I had a major attraction to him. Been that way for about three years now. I've spent many a lonely night dreaming of us together, even though I knew it would never be. Doesn't hurt to dream, right? After all, they say the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
The evening crowd continued to grow. At one point the place became "standing room only" to all new arrivals and the aisles were packed. We talked about old times, the high school years and what had become of the people we knew. I was really happy to see him; it had been so very long. I just stared into his eyes, admiring him, trying to make sure I broke my concentration occasionally, so as not to alarm him or give myself away. I just couldn't help but stare, he was so gorgeous. As the evening wound down and the hour grew late, I was quickly losing steam. It had been a very long, busy week for me and I was completely worn out. Not so for Brock, he was just boundless with energy, talking constantly and asking me questions. Every time I yawned or rubbed my eyes, he'd launch into a new topic. It seemed that with each change in conversation, he became more animated and more desperate to hold my attention. The counter-help finally called last call and turned out the "OPEN" sign as the band packed their gear and the crowds quickly began thinning.
"Well," I yawned, "it's late and I'm beat. Time for me to get going."
"Can I come over for a little bit, Blake? I haven't ever seen your new place and I'd like to talk to you some more. Alone..." He said that last word real quickly and I saw a flash in his eyes, like a fear or panic, perhaps something else. I couldn't really tell, I was so tired.
"Sure, that'd be fine for a little while. You wanna follow me? Where are you parked?"
"Actually, my parents dropped me off here. I was supposed to call when I was ready to go home." He looked tense, which was highly unusual for him. We'd been through a lot in our friendship and very rarely had I seen him discontent or unhappy in any situation. This was strange.
"No trouble, man. You can call them on my cell and I'll run you home after awhile." I reached into my coat and set the StarTac on the table. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom, be right back."
"Cool, thanks." He grabbed the phone and started dialing as I headed off.
"Ready?" I asked. He had finished the call while I was away and had returned our cups to the bar. He was buttoning his jacket as I returned.
"Yup! Lead the way!" I donned my coat and we headed out the door, into the freezing December snow.
By the time we reached my Expedition, it had already warmed up. Thank God for my foresight in having a remote start added to the keyless entry when I leased it last year. The drive home was quiet; we listened to music as Brock stared out the window at the snow, seemingly lost in thought.
My condo is in a small development in Wildcat Valley, the newest golf course to pop up in town. It seemed we had golf courses being built all the time. I think I head somewhere that my hometown had the highest percentage of golf courses per capita of anywhere in the United States. I don't know if that's true, but if so it is probably the single claim to fame we have.
In my addition the homes either have a golf course or waterfront view. There are a series of small creeks and retention ponds running through the course, supposedly to make it more challenging, though I find they only break up the monotony of the course design. Oh, yeah, did I mention that everyone who lives here gets to play for free whenever we want? A nice perk, I do think.
Anyway, I chose to build along the largest pond, my one-and-a-half story cedar condo has a deck that almost runs right into the water. I have a Jacuzzi out there and can see the 9th green and all the way down the 11th hole from there. I have often been told I've got the best lot in the place and I would have to agree. I paid for it, though. The total cost on everything was almost $400,000. Worth every penny, if you ask me. I had a very good year last year.
I steered the truck into the garage, pulling alongside my fire engine red '96 Mustang Cobra, a gift from my father on my 16th birthday. Man, my friends were jealous! I loved it!
"You live here?" He asked, shocked. "Dude, this is awesome!"
"Thanks, I'm rather fond of it myself."
"Still got the 'Stang, I see." We had spent many afternoons and evening in the past cruising in that car. Pimping for girls and talking about life, while entertaining the occasional drag race. I had even let him borrow the car for his senior prom last year; silently wishing I'd been his date. Hell, he went with a friend anyway, female mind you. He hadn't had a steady girlfriend since I could remember. For that matter, neither had I (Surprise! Surprise!).
We went inside and he commented how huge the place was about nineteen times. I beamed with pride; for this coming from a kid who had grown up in a large family with a house of about 10,000 square feet (his parents were quite wealthy from the construction business and he had four younger brothers) made my 3,200 square foot two bedroom feel like a palace. I lit the fireplace and turned on a few dim "mood" lights in the great room as he walked to the windows (they covered the entire back wall and extended 30' to the steeped ceiling), looking out over the pond and golf course. I flipped the lights on my 9' tall Christmas tree and took a seat on one of the cinnamon-color leather sofas that faced the fireplace, watching the reflections of the twinkling lights off the windows and catching an awe-inspiring glance at Brock's tight little bubble butt.
"Your dad helped me design and build the house, I'm surprised he didn't say anything to you about it." I said, trying to reignite our earlier conversation.
"He probably did, I just don't remember." Brock turned toward me and took a seat on the opposite couch, pausing to stare at the roaring fire before speaking again. When he opened his mouth, his words came slowly, as if being forced out of him and his breathing intensified, noticeably heavier.
"Blake, I need to, um, talk to you about, well, something really important... I've needed to talk to someone for quite awhile, but... um, haven't been sure how they'd... react..." His voice trailed off and I could barely make out the last few words.
"Man, how long have we known each other? You know I'm always here for you, no matter what. You're like a brother to me, Brock. Nothing could change that. Tell me what's on your mind, dude." How strange. We'd shared many secrets and fears in the past and it had been a very, very long time since I'd seen my friend this upset. It was really starting to scare me. His face contorted as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, hands slightly quivering. Then just as quickly he became totally expressionless, his eyes void and body slack. He clasped his hands together tightly and he spoke almost mechanically.
"Blake... I'm... gay..."
My jaw hit the floor! Jesus, did he really just say what I think he did? My heart began racing and my hands were sweaty. My throat went dry and my mind went blank as I searched for something to say. This just blew my world wide open! To even fathom that the boy I'd been dreaming of and lusting over for quite a long time now could be like me? I was only able to illicit a half-groan, half-gurgle in response. What an idiot I must've looked like!
He had stared at me, clearly nervous, awaiting my response. His eyes grew wide, his body quivering violently and his facial muscles twisting, face reddening as he began to sob uncontrollably.
"Oh, man! You hate me now, don't you? I knew... this would happen... I was so... scared... to tell you!" With that he buried his head in his hands, his body shaking harshly as his crying grew louder. I opened my mouth to speak, but his muffled voice again cut me off.
"I guess I've just wrecked it, huh? I've prayed and prayed that you might understand. Nobody else will. If my family finds out, they'll disown me. If they find out at school, I know they'll kick me out because of my terrible sin! Do you have any idea how much this hurts? I'm so alone... So alone..." He broke out in tears again, staring at me with pain clearly visible in his eyes. Probably waiting for me to react, to either throw him out or kick his ass.
I was at a complete and total loss. For the first time in recent memory, the great salesman couldn't produce any words. I just wanted to hold him, to calm and comfort him and dry his tears. I stood up and advanced toward him, fear now plainly visible in his eyes as his body tensed for a possible attack. I lunged at him, grabbing his arm, which he reflexively placed affront his body and landed next to him on the sofa. I placed an arm around his shoulders and grabbed his chin with the other hand. He tried to pull away, with little success as I gripped harder.
"Brock!" I yelled. "Look at me! Look at my face! Do I look angry?" He released his tension as I swiveled his face to mine and cautiously looked into my eyes.
"Please, don't be scared. I don't hate you. I could never hate you. And you are NOT alone. We are not alone, Brock." His eyes widened, shocked and confused. His crying stopped, but his lower lip quivered as he looked at me and spoke.
"You mean you're..."
"Gay? Yes, I am. Honestly, I've known for five years. I know what its like when you realize the truth. To be so scared and feel alone. Truth is, I still get those feelings a lot." I was growing teary-eyed now, quivering as I pulled him closer to me.
"Buddy, I've been attracted to you since we first met. I've never felt this way about anyone. I just couldn't say anything. I didn't want you to be frightened and run away. I didn't want to lose our friendship."
"Blake," He said softly, "I've wanted to tell you this for several months now, ever since I was sure. I was looking at a picture of you, of us together, and realized how special you are to me. Thinking about all we've done and shared together. I think I love you, Blake." Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked intently into mine. We sat like that for a moment, staring into each other's souls, expressing a feeling so deep and powerful, such raw and pure emotion, that it really couldn't be put into words.
"I love you, too, Brock." We leaned into each other, hugging fiercely, as he wiped his eyes and rested his head on my shoulder, hands gripping tightly into my back. It actually kinda hurt, but I wasn't ever going to think of complaining. He needed this. The love of my life needed me. I began massaging his neck and shoulders, rubbing up and down his back to relieve the built-up tension and stop his shaking. We stayed like that for what felt like eternity, holding on for dear life, lost in our own thoughts as our bodies calmed down.
Then, suddenly, he raised his head and looked into my eyes. Like a unified machine, in perfect time, completely entranced, we leaned into each other and our lips met. Softly. Quickly. And again, just like before. My whole body rocked, like a huge surge of electricity was coursing through my veins. This time we held there, motionless, lips locked, eyes closed. As if each was reading the other's mind, our lips parted and our tongues collided. First exploring each other, then diving into the other's mouth, exploring every crevice, each new texture and taste.
I ran my fingers through his soft, short hair, as his ran along the back of my neck. His tongue and mouth were so warm, welcoming my presence and the heat from the fire was no comparison to the flames shooting from our entangled bodies, the unbridled intensity and passion. When we finally came up for air, his face was clean and bright, I could almost sense the desire in his eyes, as he developed that devilish grin.
"Blake," He softly whispered, "I've never done this before... With anyone."
"Don't worry, I'm rather new to this myself." We kissed again. Deeply, a feeling so intense I thought I was going to explode! His hands shook as he rubbed my back and chest softly through my cotton button-down shirt. I decided to take the lead and tenderly caressed his chest and stomach, my hands firmly around the base of his sweatshirt. I lifted in carefully and untucked his t-shirt, slipping my hands underneath to lightly palm and explore his bare flesh.
Rubbing my way up his hairless, smooth chest, I raised his shirts with my arms as I went, stopping along my ascent to pinch and squeeze his dime-sized nipples, causing a soft moan to rise from him as they hardened between my fingers. He kissed harder, diving deeper into my mouth, almost choking me with his tongue as I lifted the clothing up around his neck and shoulders. He released his hold on me and raised his arms into the air, pausing our kiss briefly so I could lift the garments over his head and toss them to the floor.
I admired his features for a moment. His smooth hairless chest, nipples slightly darker than the rest of his skin. He had just the slightest hint of a developing six-pack; his muscles were defined nicely, but not overly noticeable at first glance. As I'd removed the shirts, I noticed the small patches of light brown hair under his arms. God was this boy beautiful! We resumed our kissing as he started to unbutton my shirt, fumbling slightly with each button as he calmly worked his way down. I broke to kiss his neck and then began nibbling and licking his small ears. This made him giggle, then moan erotically. My little soldier was beginning to rise to attention with all this new excitement, as I'm certain his was, too, considering he suddenly let a hand fall to his crotch and "adjusted" himself through his Levi's.
With my shirt completely open, his hands greedily explored my chest and stomach. He traced the lines of my six-pack, and then played with the light blond hairs that led from the middle of my chest down into my khakis. He stopped as he reached the top of them and started squeezing my dark brown nipples, hardening them quickly and causing me to shudder and moan. I reached down and undid my tennis shoes, kicking them off wildly, and then turned my attention to his. I untied them and carefully pulled them off his feet, rubbing my fingers across the bottom as I did so, causing him to begin giggling and laughing hysterically. It occurred to me how small his eight-and-a-half's were compared to my size thirteen's... I wickedly wondered if what they said about hand length and shoe size were really true with others... I'm so bad...
"Wait," I said, "follow me." I put my arm around his and he reciprocated as we stood and I led him up the stairs to my bedroom. I opened the double-doors and led him by the hand into my inner sanctum. Setting him down on the edge of my king-size four-poster, I stopped for a quick kiss before I knelt at his feet. I rubbed his feet up and down, causing him to giggle and beg me to stop. I pulled his socks off and marveled at the soft, uncalloused flesh of his boy feet. Softly kissing and licking along the soles of his feet, I stopped as I reached his toes and sucked tenderly on them. He moaned loudly, a sure sign of his enjoyment. Yeah, I confess I have a foot fetish. Just can't help myself, really. Besides, no harm, no foul, everybody has a fetish. As his begging and moaning increased, I finally decided to turn my attention a little northward. My hands rubbed up his tight jeans and came to rest on his crotch. His breathing was feverish as I rubbed, undoing his button and zipper quickly. In a flash, I had dropped his pants to the floor. I let my gaze race along his beautiful body again. His slender, tight- muscled legs had just the slightest dusting of light brown hairs on them. His "package" produced a rather healthy-looking bulge in his bright red silk boxer shorts. The rich color of them seemed to enhance his slightly tanned complexion, darkening his skin tone in the dimly lit room. Damn, this sexy body is driving me nuts! I reached around the elastic of his shorts, sticking my fingers underneath, rubbing around his entire body. I was quite intrigued that my fingertips hadn't made contact with any sings of hair yet, continuously greeted just by silky-smooth flesh as they explored. My face was just mere inches from his protruding boy toy, as it angled almost perfectly straight out from his body.
"Blake," He blurted out between breaths, his hands came up under my arms, lifting me somewhat reluctantly up from my position to stand before him. He smiled evilly as his hands undid my belt buckle, fly and zipper. My pants fell to my ankles and I stepped quickly out of them. His eyes walked down my body, taking a particular interest in the large tent-pole that stuck out within my plaid boxers. He licked his lips and pulled me to him for another incredible kiss.
As it turned out, his pulling me forward resulted in my immediate loss of balance and I cursed as I fell on him, laughing. We kissed and rolled around the bed, each taking turns atop the other as our throbbing members caused sparks to fly furiously between us. Once I held the dominant position above him, I broke our kiss and kissed my way down him, stopping first to nibble and suck his soft nipples back to full attention, then to kiss and lick around his belly button. This caused his body to gyrate wildly as helpless laughter roared from his lips. I stopped just then and placed my hands in their previous positions, slowly sliding his shorts off and revealing the full beauty of his nakedness, affording me a first look at the object of my desire. It stood out anxiously to greet me.
Awe-inspiring! I licked my lips hungrily as I looked it over. It arched about 45 degrees from his body, pointing perfectly straight up at his face. About 6.5" in length, his cut deep pink head and foreskin met a smooth shaft that was slightly lighter than the skin on the rest of his body. I ran a finger down the length, causing another deep moan as his eyes shut hard and his rod pulsed by my touch. I cupped his balls in my left hand, kneading the flesh. They were a deeper tone than the rest of his body and were just barely sprinkled with hair, hanging tightly to his boyhood.
Leaning in, I kissed the cap, licking the salty bits of pre-cum from my lips. Then, while still massaging his nuts, I ran my tongue up and down the entire length, encircling the tip several times and madly licking at his "G-spot". His body rocked intensely and he let out a deep groan. I moved back up to the slender tip of his rod and took it into my mouth, swirling my tongue around as I began to lightly suck him.
"Oh, yeah! Oh, God, Blake! That feels sooooo good!" He gasped in-between moans as I rocketed his beautiful body into orbit, engulfing more and more of his cock, gradually taking it all in as I bobbed up and down more and more quickly; occasionally slowing as I came up for air and kissed his head. Again, I reached his base and rested there momentarily, indulging my senses with his musky, sweet boy scent, burying my nose in the bush of pubic hair. His cock was throbbing more intensely, thickening as I sucked harder and at varying speeds. His hips gently thrust ever so slightly in rhythm with my movements. He moaned louder than ever and I felt his balls tighten up in my hand. I knew he was close, my pace quickly increasing to push him over the edge.
"Blake, I'm gonna..." BOOM! With one violent thrust of his hips, I felt the first shot of his hot juices sting the back of my throat. I kept going as he yelped and shot load after load, probably eight or nine total, into my mouth. I swallowed every last drop, intoxicated by its sweet, salty flavor as it passed my tongue. I kept up the pace, gradually slowing and coming off as I knew he was totally spent. Our lips met again and he madly ran his tongue through every area of my mouth, desperately trying to recover just a taste of his own creamy boy seed.
In a sudden, quick movement his small right hand ran down my chest and into my shorts. He greedily caressed my pubes, frantically searching for the prize. I shuddered as his fingertips lightly brushed across my head. Having found what he was searching for, he slowly ran his fingers down my length, and then wrapped his hand around me, slowly jerking me off. I groaned as his grip tightened, pace steadily increasing on my pulsating member. The only sounds were my soft moans of joy and the familiar wet, squishing sound as he worked my tool, spreading the pre-cum all around. He lay me down on the covers, quickly peeling off my underwear, bearing me completely, now clad only in socks.
He gazed in wonder as he worked my 8" tool back-and-forth through his palm. With his free hand he explored my balls, which were much larger than his own and covered in a thick layer of pubic hair. This was incredible! My body tingled with delight as he massaged my deep, pinkish-colored nuts and stroked fiercely on my ever-growing girth. Lowering his face to my treasure, he licked at my head, tasting my juices. His tongue swirled 'round my dark purple cap, tracing a circle around my cut red foreskin, tickling that special spot just as I had done for him. As he did this, his left hand slowly stroked my white shaft. My hips began bucking violently as I clenched my fists, snapping my eyes shut. I wasn't sure how much more I could take! The immense pleasure coupled with the suspense and anticipation of what was to come were killing me!
His mouth opened and my head was covered in its' sweet warmth. He sucked softly, cautiously going down further with each bob of his head. His pace was smooth as he tried fitting more of me within his jaws. As I hit the back of his throat, he gagged harshly, quickly backing off about a third of the way and then picking up the pace. He was maneuvering like a pro now, pace fast and steady, occasional slurping sounds coming forth. I was flying high, in 7th heaven when I felt his hand slip from my sack and run down my hair-covered crotch toward my hole...
My entire being wracked in sudden pain as a lone finger, still wet with pre-cum, abruptly dove into my asshole. I screamed as he began working in-and-out, but he only increased his sucking and pinned me mercilessly in place. The pain turned to pleasure as my body adjusted to his coinciding movements. My balls tightened up and I felt the sudden build up as he buried his finger deeper inside. His only warning was a low, muffled grunt as I exploded. Spasming from head-to-toe, I rapidly unloaded sever spurts of thick spunk into his hungry little mouth. He tried to swallow the entirety, but gurgled in failure as it began leaking out the sides of his mouth. It didn't stop him, though. He kept right on drinking, thrusting his finger in-and-out, until he had completely drained me and I went limp.
"That was incredible, dude." I whispered as he simultaneously backed off and pulled out of me. Our lips met yet again, sweaty bodies rubbing together and I tasted my own rich, salty cream on his lips and tongue. I licked his face clean as we lay together, completely spent. Without notice, I felt his cock beginning to rise against my stomach as we embraced and Brock looked sweetly into my eyes.
"I want to have all of you, Blake." He tenderly announced. Man, for a complete novice, this boy definitely new the moves to make with amazing intuition. He had primed me perfectly for the next step. I disentangled from him and stood, stretching as he lubed his rock-hard member in a thick layer of spit. I bent over the bed, stretching my limbs as far as possible, to give him the easiest opportunity. Brock knelt behind me, probing with his tongue as I moaned and tightly gripped the blankets to stabilize myself. He stood and guided his rocket towards the destination and I felt his head quickly brush my opening, and then slip away. I reached back quickly, wanting him so bad, and helped aim. As he pushed slowly into me, I thrust myself backward, forcing him deeper inside. I cannot express the physical sensation, the agony and pleasure that overtook me in that moment. It was by far the most intense physical feeling I've ever experienced.
His hips worked in a slow, steady beat, slapping against my cheeks and moving away, as I got used to the thrusts of his cock. We both moaned in ecstasy as our breathing quickened and our senses catapulted to this new level of awareness. I could feel his thickness growing as his movement increased in speed and became less consistent. Brock reached the crest and sighed loudly as his cream filled me up. His pace slowed and became sporadic as he began to soften. Rubbing his hands up my back, he leaned forward and kissed my neck, pulling out as he did so. He lay beside me again, nibbling my ear.
"Do me, Blake. I want to go all the way." Well, my batteries were fully recharged again, to the point that it seemed my dick hurt. Staring at his tight little behind, I knew I had to have him, too. He assumed my former pose, bent over the bed while I covered my throbbing meat in spit, jerking myself to insure a thick coat of insulation all over. His pink rosebud loomed before me, I gripped his ass cheek tightly, kneading the soft flesh in my fingers and guided my missile toward the point of contact.
I pushed slowly forward as I felt contact, Brock groaned and spasmed. The pressure was incredible as I entered, quickly moving deeper inside. I could tell it hurt by the severe, loud scream he issued and quickly backed out, alarmed. Brock urged me on, thrusting his hips back to regain the lost ground. I began slowly, allowing him to get comfortable with the new feelings. He urged me on again and moaned pleasurably as I increased and speed, burying my rod further, my hips slapping loudly as I was completely engulfed.
He was so tight! I couldn't believe how wonderful it was! I've made it several times with girls before, but even the most constrictive virgin pussy paled in comparison to my lover. I decided to be a bit daring. I've heard that slapping your partner's butt while screwing them heightens their pleasure greatly. So I did! His cheek reddened where I struck and he screamed approvingly, shaking violently as I pumped his virgin ass. Tightening all over, I pushed as hard and far as I could when my cock reached its' plateau, then unloaded every last drop, shooting load after load before I finally went empty.
With that, I fell on him, all my energy gone and we embraced again, kissing passionately, our bodies wet, covered in a mixture of each other's cum and sweat.
"I love you, Brock"
"I love you, too, Blake." We kissed and cuddled together, heads resting on the pillows and I pulled the covers over our naked bodies.
When I opened my eyes, the sun was shining through the windows of my room. I inhaled the sweet aroma of sex as I watched my lover sleeping, so peaceful, a look of safe contentment across his beautiful face. It was then I realized we were still entangled, his soft cock resting against my stomach and a hand on top of my member. I gently massaged his butt, where my hand had conveniently rested during our sleep and pulled him closer to me.
I felt so warm and happy, more secure and safe than ever before with him beside me. I silently wished we could stay like that forever, at peace and frozen in time. Brock yawned and opened his eyes, staring happily at me and he smiled. I love that smile.
"Good morning, sunshine!" I grin at him.
"I see that you slept well, dude." He stated, beginning to softly stroke my manhood.
"Mmmm, yeah..." We leaned in and kissed. He quickly brought me to orgasm with his hand, rubbing the spooge all over my chest, then dove under the covers to sop up what had leaked onto the bed. Once fully awake, we took turns in the shower and using the bathroom, got dressed and made our way down to the kitchen. Brock made coffee while I fixed bacon and eggs. As he sat at the table, I placed the food before him and tousled his hair before grabbing my own plate and sitting down across from him. The clock on the stove said 8:56 AM. Brock had to be at church at 10:30, so he announced that we should go soon so he could be ready in time.
"Aren't your parents going to be worried that you didn't come home last night?
"Nope," He said, flashing that devilish grin, "I told them I was staying the night at your place, due to the weather."
"You little devil!" I laughed. So, he'd been plotting after all! We finished eating and quickly cleared the table, grabbed our coats and hit the door. As we drove, he asked if we could get together this week, in a voice that sounded almost to hopeful.
"I suppose I can pencil you in." I sighed, laughing. He broke out in laughter as we pulled up his parents' drive. Glancing first at the house to see if anyone was watching, he leaned over and quickly kissed me before climbing out of the truck. I sat and watched him go inside before pulling away, then grabbed a cigarette from the pack on my dash and lit, inhaling deeply. It appeared that I'd found love and it was perfect! Nothing could go wrong now...
I spent the rest of the day doing routine housework, falling peaceably to sleep that night, enjoying the leftover scents of our passion, still fresh on the sheets. I dreamt of him, completely happy with the world. My week flew by quickly. My assistant, Lucille, a rather frumpish, pudgy yet good-natured woman of 50-something, remarked how happy I acted and how productive we were during those days. All I thought of was Brock. I had a huge week, closing more deals in the first three days than I had in the previous two weeks combined. This would be another record month, I could tell, assuring me another year as the top performer in the office. That would really burn my colleagues up, I mused happily, as they were all older and much more experienced than I. I love my job. I have a fiercely competitive spirit and just love to win. I have to win. Always. That made me great at my job.
Brock and I spent every possible evening together. He stayed over at my place each one of the next two weekends. We became inseparable, breaking only to spend Christmas with our families and we continued to explore our growing love.