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Part 7 – Gym Stretch
I'd just spent hours getting fucked by and blowing the hottest guy I'd met in a long time, maybe ever. Then I'd confessed that I'm a rather accomplished slut, who'd been expected by three fuckbuds that very night and a friend with benefits afterward, all the while I'd been cavorting with Jack, who now held me in his arms, listening to me breathe uneasily because after he'd heard the worst about me, he'd said I'd rocked his world and life, I'd said he did mine, too.
I had my hand on his chest under his t-shirt, and he had one arm around my shoulders, his other over my arm that was on him, and my head was on his shoulder, inhaling the freshly showered Jack scent which was every bit as intoxicating as the sweat-soaked from the gym Jack scent which was equal to the reeking of sex and sweat Jack scent.
But a few hours of skyrocket-class sex and generous accepting words didn't change anything. Jack was obviously, based on his apartment and his wardrobe, which I'd had a few gawks at as we passed through his closet on the way to the shower a couple of times. And he was also in perfect shape and drop-dead gorgeous. Oh, and he was hung like Godzilla and was probably the best fuck I'd ever had, which was saying something given my vast experience. He could have any man he wanted, so why would he want a working class slut less than two-thirds of his age?
"Talk it out, babe," he said softly to me, giving my shoulder and arm a squeeze in his embrace. "You're safe – I've got you."
I took a deep breath, and instead of bolting, I dove in. "OK, so if that wasn't bad enough, what I told you about myself and my original plans for tonight, I originally calculated time, figured I could fuck you and get home before my first Friday fuckbud would text me. And I haven't even told you how many guys usually fuck me each of the other six days of the week." I'd stopped, gulped, and was thinking of where to go and was startled when Jack spoke before I had the chance.
"We've covered Friday, and I said it didn't matter to me in the least, Mads. That would at least suggest that Saturday through Thursday wouldn't matter to me either. At least the past Thursdays through Saturdays and Fridays wouldn't. So let me make this very clear to you, and I'll start by reiterating what I said to you before: I don't say anything I don't mean. And I mean, I couldn't care less if you were the team pump for the New England Patriots before. I am not given to gay-class drama, but I'll tell you I feel like my life reset and started over tonight . . . because of you . . . with you."
It was incredible to hear someone say that, and it was terrifying to be the cause of him saying it. I had no more chance with him than, well, than anyone did. "You're not Richard Gere, and this isn't the set of Pretty Woman," I realized I said out loud, which I immediately followed with, "FUCK!"
Jack actually laughed. "And thank God you're not Julia Roberts, because then you'd REALLY have changed my life in a way I'm not prepared to change!"
I pushed myself back and up off him until I was facing him. "Seriously, Jack. You're," I said, motioning with my hand up and down his incredible body and movie-star-handsome face, "Well, you're . . . And damn, obviously you're rich, I mean sorry to be so blunt but seriously, this place is amazing, and I'm relatively sure one of those suits I saw in your closet – maybe even a single pair of your shoes – cost more than my entire wardrobe, probably even more than the entire inventory of The Gap. And, well, I'm—"
But that's where he stopped me. "YOU, Mads," he said loud and firmly, with a determination in his eyes that was, without the smoldering passion, much like one of the times he was slam-fucking the life out of me, so intense it could have burned me, "Are a handsome, smart, desirable man who any guy – as in one like me or any other man who likes men – would jump through hoops to get in his bed and be a fool not to grab hold of and hang onto if he can. Like I am," he added, squeezing my shoulder nearest to him with his big warm hand which had been around me before I pulled away. And I wanted his arm around me again. Why the fuck had I pulled away?
His intense gaze stayed on me, and I finally looked down. But Jack gently reached out and brought my eyes back to his with his hand under my chin. "I've GOT you, Mads. You're safe. Talk to me more," he said softly as his look went back to a gentle almost smile. And then he pulled me gently back over against him and guided my head back onto his shoulder, his arm again around my shoulders again, and his other over my exposed arm, which should have been up his shirt, if I hadn't fucked that up!
I think I must have been trembling because Jack rubbed me very slightly and held me close and said, "Relax, babe."
And then I knew I had been trembling because all of a sudden it stopped . . . because he told me I could. I moved my hand onto his beautiful strong thigh and ran it slowly, gently over his furry quads, and when Jack sighed a rush went through me. I wanted this man to always feel that way, and I wanted to be the one who made him feel that way. "You really think I'm handsome?" I mugged into his neck.
Jack laughed again, and I realized I was addicted to that laugh, the feel of him laughing, to the sound, to what I knew was the grin on his face as he laughed. "Mads, serious question for you in answer. Ready?" I tensed at that, but Jack squeezed my shoulder and said, "Reeeeeelaaaaxxxxxxx," and again, like before, my body did as it was told. "Ready?"
I nodded, but as a hedge, I let my hand which was gently, slowly rubbing his quad, stray up to his balls and cock. He had his hand on mine instantly – firmly, but also gently. "Talk to me, Mads. That's yours. I'm yours. But we're talking, and you don't have to distract me to avoid talking to me. You're safe, OK?"
"Yes," I said seriously, but I immediately followed it with, "But how do you expect that after you'd fucked me in such amazing ways I could possibly keep from craving you?" He didn't laugh. He didn't say anything. I took my hand back and rested it on his thigh and nuzzled his neck. "Sorry," I mumbled.
"Here's the serious question," he said, pulling me slightly tighter against him. "You said earlier you'd climbed out on this limb with me. Are you turning around and going back? Is that what the self-deprecation and attempted distraction is about?"
I forced myself not to tremble again . . . and not to bolt. I breathed very evenly, not too deeply, several times. "I'm TERRIBLE at this, Jack," was all I said.
"Then we'll both have our hands full helping each other, because my track record is pretty dismal, too, even though when it comes to anything other than interpersonal relationships I am invincible!" he said it emphatically, but after a beat or two he burst out laughing, and I had to, too. "OK, maybe not invincible, but I've done pretty well everywhere but with relationships with people, particularly with lovers," he clarified.
I had my hand back up on his abs, and he felt so fucking good, in both good ways and also in VERY VERY GOOOOOOOOOD ways. "How long have we been together?" I asked.
"Why? Is there a limit approaching when you'll self-destruct or something if you're with one man that long?" he said, clearly joking, as he reached over to pick up his phone. He punched it. "Wow!" he said.
"That long, huh?"
"Well," he said rather gravely, "If this was new year's eve, in one minute I'd be kissing you!"
I pulled back so fast he gasped. "You've GOT to be fucking KIDDING me!" I blurted out. I also gasped, because I went back on my ass hard on the sofa cushion, and it was not going to let me forget how I'd abused it in the last five and a half hours!
"Am I about to be left with a glass slipper?" he asked.
"We got here at about six-thirty, Jack," I said, incredulous that the time had gone that fast. He was just looking at me, and I could see he was a bit worried that I might suddenly have gotten a dose of reality, or worse, that I had to be somewhere else, or with someone else. "Of course," I went on, "My ass-alarm can attest to the punishment it's taken, which are so grave they'd have to have been over the course of many hours!" Jack grimaced when I said it, and I think he was genuinely hurt by my stupid quip. "Then again, my ass and I have this parallel track thing going with pleasure and pain, so for the incredible ecstasies I've had tonight, given that my ass always has the last word, which tends to be repeated for a while after, I may be hearing about this for a long while." That got a small smile from him. "At least until we add to my ecstasy again, which I sure as hell hope will be SOON!"
That did it. He broke into a grin. And right then, all this other stuff was nothing compared to the warmth that filled me from that smile of his. "I told you a fun fact about me. Tell me one about you, Mads," he ordered, still grinning.
Damn, he came in to the net right when the sun of his smile was in my eyes! "OK, one of my balls is a prosthesis. I lost the OEM one in a sports accident in university. Wanna know which one?"
Without missing a beat, he said, "Your left one."
I gaped at him in amazement. NOBODY knew that. And MANY had been close enough to pick up on some difference. The prosthesis that was my very large left nut was good, but it wasn't a real testicle. "How the FUCK did you figure that out?"
He grinned wider. "Well, I could give you a play-by-play, but I'll just say that it had to do with the way you reacted to the feel of my face – my stubbly jaw, mostly, against it when I was blowing you before you forced me to fuck you, and then a few times when I was fucking you how your nutsac moved in response to our bodies slamming together. I didn't know then if it was just significantly lower sensitivity or what, particularly since your output quantity is akin to a bull's, but when you disclosed that you had a prosthetic testicle, it was obvious."
"That's amazing!" I said enthusiastically. "You're like Shercock Holmes!" This time it was my turn to grin.
He laughed and rubbed my abs. "Good one! I thought you meant it was amazing that I know how much a bull's semen output is."
"Well that's a bit weird," I admitted, thinking to myself that I'd thought it was just a figure of speech.
"I'm from a cattle family," he said, responding to my unspoken thoughts.
"Hell!" I retorted without missing a beat. "I could tell that because you're hung like a bull!"
This time he pulled me into him, and as he said, "God, you're fun, Mads!" he gave me a noogie, making me squeal and squirm but not enough to get free, and then held me tight against him. Which I felt was just right.
After a bit I asked softly, "Is this limb still holding?"
He squeezed me tighter and said, "I've got you!"
I took a deep breath. "Can I stay the night?"
He brought my head up so we could look in each other's eyes, and I saw his look was nothing short of relief. "I seriously thought you wouldn't, and I'm absolutely delighted if you will, babe."
"OK, since I'm on a roll, two more serious questions for you," I said playfully.
"Oh, Jesus," he exclaimed. "I ask you ONE serious question, and you throw TWO at me? I see how this is going to go now!" he said in mock exasperation.
"Oh," I shot back. "I was counting the spending the night question as my first of THREE serious questions for you, not two."
Jack grinned, and then he suddenly got very serious. "Babe, the spending the night question was the best question anyone's asked me in a long, LONG time!" And then he leaned in and kissed me, softly, but also very intently.
I kissed him back and enjoyed the bejesus out of it, but I finally pushed him back and said, "Oh, no, now you're trying to distract me. I'm asking you my serious questions, dammit!"
Jack tried to put a look on like he was all business, but he couldn't suppress his grin. THAT got my dick stirring! "Shoot!" he said and then couldn't stop himself from laughing.
"OK, here goes. Ready?" He again tried, again unsuccessfully, to be all business, but finally he guffawed and then made a show of composing himself and finally nodded his head curtly at me. "First VERY serious question second serious question: do you sleep naked?"
Jack's laugh blasted out of him. I waited, appearing impatient, but I was smiling, as able to suppress mine as he had been his before. "Yes – always – it's a house rule for my bed at least. And, for the sake of clarity, if you sleep in my bed, you are required to observe that house rule."
I put on my inquisition face again, though probably more like Monty Python than Spanish. "OK, one down. You're doing OK, Torrance – you've got promise." He started to say something but I jumped ahead. "NOW, for your third serious question, which is a very, VERY serious question. This is like Final Jeopardy, so make it good. IF I agree to stay the night," I started and stopped, making him wait for it until his anticipation was so cute on him I couldn't stop myself because my cock was already growing. "Will you fuck me senseless again before we go to sleep?" I said, softening my voice as the sentence ended and boring into his eyes with mine. GOD I wanted him!
"Uh," he said, "I, well, Jesus, are you sure that punished butt of yours can take it again?" he asked, flustered.
But his cock was already growing in his boxers, too, and I reached up the leg and got a firm grip on it. "Take me to bed, and I promise you will have your answer!" I growled.
He was up like a flash, almost knocking me off the sofa in the process, and then he was tugging me up by my arm. We ran through the downstairs to the staircase like a couple of kids. As we got to the stairs I stopped, which tugged him to a stop because he hadn't let go of my arm. He spun around, giving me a great view of his fucklog straining his boxers. I couldn't take my eyes off it, thinking both about what a good fucktool it was, what a great tradesman he was using it, and also a random thought that the makers of these very-fine cotton boxer shorts would be aghast if they saw the way his enormous cock had his all straining and distorted on his model-perfect body. "What?" he demanded impatiently, which frankly went right to my own stiff cock and struck my sac like a lightning bolt.
FUCK what this man did to me. And would do again, very soon. "With my free arm I gestured around at all the lights on and said, "Shouldn't we—"
He tugged me, and we were running up the stairs as he said, "I can take care of that while you're getting those clothes off."
As we hit the top step and made a beeline to his bed I shot back, "Don't forget you only gave me two articles of clothing after our shower, so I don't have much to take off," I said, already stripping off the t-shirt as we neared his big, rumpled bed with our sex-soiled linens. Frankly I couldn't wait to smell them!
But he was punching a panel on the table next to his bed, and I looked back and saw darkness from outside the bedroom and then the bedroom lights went to very dim. He turned around as I was kicking my boxers away, my hardon happily swinging, and pulled me against him and kissed me hard. I kissed him back as hard, and we were grinding into each other, my cock into his boxers, and I finally reached down and tugged them down with one hand. In response he pulled away and pulled his t-shirt off while I pulled the boxers down to where they fell and he kicked them away. Then we were ON each other again.
Between face-sucks, he said against my lips, "We can fuck on top of the bed again and then climb under the sheets and they'll be clean for us to sleep."
After another face-sucking round I broke away and said into his lips, "I don't mind sleeping in the wet spot, and I REALLY want to fall asleep with your cock still in me."
I felt and then saw his eyes wide open and smoldering when I opened mine. He just reached down and in one big pull had the bed linens yanked back and pushed me into the bed with him following. I "Oooooooomphed," when my ass hit and grimaced momentarily.
Jack asked me very seriously all of a sudden, "Babe are you sure? We don't have to—"
But I was having none of that and cut him off. "READ MY LIPS, STUD: FUUUUCCCKKKKKK MEEEEEEE!" and I flopped on my stomach and shoved my ass in the air. He immediately got the lube and went to work.
There was something soothing about his fingers in me despite the ache and pain of my too-used fuckhole, and I wanted him IN me. I reached back and grabbed his cock and pulled him by it until he was behind me, lined up, then I pushed my ass back at him and bit my hand in anticipation of the pain to come. And it did, because although he started to go in slow, I pushed back further and had his massive meat buried in me to his pubes and was saying, "Just fucking FUCK me, Jack!" And he needed no further encouragement and went to full-stroke right then.
I was seeing stars already because my ass was so fucking sore and the pain was incredible, but as he fucked on, and as I bucked back into him I felt that transformation coming over me when the pleasure has built to matching the pain and then transforms it and takes me into that other place where my body is humming at a high frequency and it's all waves washing over me.
I rode those waves and lost track of everything but the pleasure and the sounds of my stud grunting between filthy shouts like, "Oh FUCK yeah, TAKE that big fucking cock like the cock whore you are!" and "You know you want it, so work for my load and milk it out of my cumtanks, bitch!"
I was in my element, but at the same time it wasn't my usual element when I'm getting rough-fucked by a good fucker. No, I was hyperconscious that it was Jack fucking me, that I wanted him IN me, that I wanted him WITH me, that I was HIS, and not just until the seed he blasted in me went back out my ass.
Perfecting that thought, my body exploded, this time it didn't start in my nuts but somewhere in my mind as I thought about Jack, and it singed my nuts and then set them to doing their part, and I was shouting and shuddering and spasming and blasting harder than I ever remembered shooting my cumload before. My balls – well, since I've confessed I have only one my ball felt like it was being crushed the pain of my climax was so intense, and those blasts were intense, every one of them.
Midway through my own explosion, Jack cried out, sounding surprised. "OH HOLY FUCKN HELL!" he shouted, as I felt his cock already blasting my guts full of another of his loads. "FUCKN CHRIST!" he yelled, bucking through it.
We were both gasping for breath, and we were slumped over, him on my back, limp and sweaty and panting hard enough that it was making my knees and arms that were holding me up unsteady. I finally made a slight move to the side, and he wrapped an arm around me and took me down, back away from where my cum splattered all over what I now felt was a very fine sheet. Well, what had I expected?
We settled on the other side of the bed, spooned, him still inside me, and he pulled up the sheet and blanket over us, his other arm under my head. Then he got his other arm chest with his warm hand on my sweaty abs in the way that made me feel so good. My face was on his other strong arm over my shoulder under me, that hand on my opposite pec, all in all being held tight against him. My ass was on fire, but his cock was right where it belonged – inside me, joining us together. I inhaled deeply and savored the reek of our sex – sweat and cum.
I was pretty sure I was already asleep and it had been a dream when he whispered into my ear, "This is perfect, babe. You're perfect, Mads."
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