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New Year's Champagne
Scott had promised a special New Year's Eve celebration for me, after I flew back from my parents' house after a week with family. It was always a stressful week for me, spending "quality time" with my family. My dad was still barely speaking to me after I had come out to the family several years ago. My Fundamentalist sister was convinced I was going to hell, and kept trying to talk me into taking "the cure" for my sexuality at some institute her church supported.
Yet, my Marine Corps brother and my nephews and nieces had been very understanding and accepting, and I'd spent most of my holiday time with them. At the mandatory dinners and family events, we managed to steer around my sexual preferences, and any mention of my partner, Scott. My parents made it a point to not invite him for the week, which added to my frustration and stress of the holidays.
Yet, Scott had been so understanding. He had his own family obligations in town, and also had to work most of the week. He'd been relieved not to have to be embroiled in my family's annual soap opera, especially when he'd have been shunned by my dad and proselytized by my sister.
"I've decided to be closed minded about closed minded people," Scott told me on our way to the airport. "I'm not going to spend my time 'defending' my sexuality with anyone. Being gay is not a choice; it's the will of God. I'm a child of God and I'm happy with who I am. And, I certainly wouldn't put up with any of your family ragging on us for either being gay or for being a couple. Why can't people simply find some joy in the fact that two people love each other and are happy?"
I would have welcomed Scott's support for me during the week, and the discussions around the dinner table would certainly have taken a lively turn, but he had a point, and his candor reaffirmed my own thoughts that I simply wanted my family to either accept me for who I was, or shut up. My choice of partners in this life was no longer a subject of conversation. He was always available by phone this week, and we had a number of good conversations and chuckles on my cell phone, as I filled him in on the daily events.
My sister still found topics to pick at me over the week. I'd grown what I thought was a handsome moustache and goatee this fall, and she kept nagging at me to shave it. For someone who thought that a long haired, bearded wanderer in the desert wearing a long robe and sandals 2000 years ago was her personal savior, she was pretty intolerant of a guy's decision to grow some hair on his chin.
When I flew back home New Year's Eve, I was drained from the week of forced celebration and tiptoeing around the ever-present attitude of intolerance and bigotry at home. And, certainly, the politics of the last year was a mine-field, what with my father huffing and puffing about not even being able to vote for a true American conservative in the election.
I was eager to get back into Scott's big, strong arms. He was a big hunk of a bear, a man who kept to a rigorous weightlifting and aerobic workout schedule three times a week, and watched what he ate. He loved the outdoors and was always dragging me outside on our days off to go for a hike, or look for some birds that were migrating through the area. Scott also had introduced me to the arts, and we had spent many weekends looking at galleries and attending some lectures. Because of him, I was feeling pretty competent in being able to identify and appreciate true artistic talent. I'd begun to dabble in my own artistic talents, with Scott encouraging me at every step.
Scott picked me up outside of the baggage claim area, and gave me a big hug, his beard rubbing against my face, as he kissed me and wrapped his big arms around me. He picked up my bag and tossed it in the back seat, and we sped off down the freeway, Scott laughing at my tales of the week's events and arguments.
"I'll get your bag, and then, we'll head for the shower," Scott said. "You probably want to clean up after that flight."
I unpacked my bag, as Scott busied himself in the bathroom. As I tossed the last of my laundry into the hamper, I turned to see Scott come out of the bathroom, stark naked, his thick cock bouncing along over his large balls, a big red bow tied around the end of his uncut cock.
"There was one Christmas present from me you didn't unwrap, Jim," Scott chuckled. "And, you'll need to open it pretty soon. Otherwise, it's going to spoil."
"Oh, it's not going to spoil. It gets refreshed all the time, and, if anything, it might fall off from being used so much, especially when we have some time together," I laughed, delighted to be back with Scott's sense of humor and his love of his sexuality.
He moved up to me, and gently kissed me on my lips, whispering to me how much he loved me, how much he missed me this past week. His fingers ran over my stiffening cock, and unzipped me, feeling the outline of my cock, as his fingers parted the flap on my briefs, stroking the curls of my curly hairs around my balls, and rubbing a finger along my smooth shaft. He quickly found my cockhead, and run a finger under my foreskin, circling the rim of my head, sending a jolt of pleasure through my balls and up into my brain.
Slowly, Scott undid my belt, and unbuttoned my pants, until my pants began to slide down to the floor. He hurried that process, and soon had my pants off of my feet, my shoes and socks thrown in a pile with my pants. His fingers ran up my legs, the calluses on his fingers rubbing and stroking my hairs, until he ran his fingers up the legs of my briefs, finding my balls, and gently stroking my hairy ball sack.
Pulling on the waist band, Scott tugged my briefs down, sliding the cloth over my now hard cock, until my briefs joined the rest of my clothes in a heap. He knelt down and took my cock deep into his mouth, until his moustache brushed my cock root hairs and bush, and his bearded chin tickled my rising ball sack. His tongue firmly licked my shaft, and his hand cupped my balls, sending another jolt of tension and pleasure through my spine.
Scott slowly pulled himself off of my now soaking wet cock and balls, and began licking my belly and treasure trail of curly hair, reaching my belly button, as he slowly unbuttoned my shirt, starting with the bottom button. As each button was opened, his tongue would attack the newly bared flesh, his other hand still cupping my balls, and the cool air of the bedroom fresh against my wet, pulsing cock and hairy balls.
Soon, my chest was open to Scott's attentive mouth and tongue, as he pulled on my chest hair, and suckled my nipples until they ached with need, his moustache shriveling my nipples until they were hard points of aching, needy nerve endings.
He pushed my shirt down my shoulders, and pulled the sleeves from my arms, exposing my hard biceps and furry pits to his attention. Soon, his lips and teeth were nibbling at my arm and shoulder muscles, and his nose deep into my armpits, absorbing my manly aroma, wetting his moustache with my new, lusty sweat.
I managed to run my own hands over my lover's furry chest, caressing his nipples, feeling the dampness of his chest, the coarse curls of his own thick chest hair, and probing his own wet armpits and fur. Scott's spicy, hearty smells filled my nostrils, bringing back my memories of our hours of lovemaking, the smell of my lover again hardening my cock, as I remembered our many times we had cum in each other's arms.
I gently pushed him back and knelt before his thick, hard cock, now leaking pre-cum down its hard, silky shaft, wetting the thick curls surrounding his balls and the base of his massive stalk, my nostrils filled with the pungent, yeasty smell of his juice, and the musty odor of his balls. I ran my fingers under his balls, feeling the tickle of his curly hairs and the heat from the fat nuts filling his sack. I rolled each of his jewels between my fingers and thumb, feeling their hard, full roundness, and took them into my mouth, my tongue and lips savoring the texture of the thick, hairy skin of his ball sack, and the musty taste of his hot skin.
With my teeth, I pulled the ends of Scott's red cock ribbon, tugging against the tightness of the knot, still smelling his manly scent, as the knot began to give away. With each pull, his cock swayed, bits of his juice flying, hitting my face, and splattering against the stubble of my cheeks and my moustache. Slowly, the ribbon came undone, and fell away from the root of his hard cock, catching on the curls of his hair and the thick, heavy set of his balls.
"Oh, Scott, I love my present," I whispered. "I'm going to play with it now. It's everything I wanted for the holidays."
Scott responded with a moan, as I had slid my eager tongue and mouth over his stiff, wet cock, pulling his manhood into my eager, thirsty mouth. My slow movements up and down his shaft were matched by my bear's rhythmic moans of delight, his hands now gripping my shoulders, as the tension began to build to a new level, raising his heavy balls higher in their hairy sack.
With one hand, I began to fondle my lover's strong, hard butt, feeling his glutes flex and contract, as our dance continued to build, his hips thrusting in time with my taking of his cock, my pursuit of his seed. My finger caressed his furry crack, as he kept his thrusting. He had spread his thighs apart, giving me access to his balls and the tight, rosy entrance to his hole, now damp with his lusty sweat. His breath caught, and he gasped as I renewed my attentions to every bit of his shaft, and the hot, throbbing ridge of his cock head, and its leaking piss slit, as I sucked every drop of his clear juice from the center of my lover's world.
Scott's gasps now filled the room, mixed with an occasional, deep chested moan, and the soft slurping of my hot, wet sucking of his manhood, as a few drops of Scott's sweat now rolled down his chest and belly, and began to soak his thick bush of curly hairs. His fresh, salty sweat mixed with my slick saliva and his pre-cum, easing the short journey of his cock as it slid in and out of my lips, soaking my moustache and goatee.
The thick cock was now making shorter and shorter thrusts into my mouth, Scott's ass now losing its rhythmic thrustings, as his sperm began to shoot from beneath his thick balls into his cock, and burst into my mouth, my lover lost in his climb to his release. With each slurp of my tongue, Scott shot another string of his cum between my lips, filling my mouth with his jism, until his balls were drained, his cock now fully spent between my teeth and tight lips.
My sweaty lover slowly sank down to his knees and took me in his strong arms, hugging me tightly to his sweaty, furry chest, the heavings and gasping of his chest pushing hard against my own fur. He pulled my head close to his furry face, and gently kissed me, pushing his tongue into my mouth, his cum now coating his own tongue. Several globs of his thick, pearly juice ran out of my mouth, drenching Scott's moustache and dripping down into his hairy chin, and dripped down into the sweaty forest of our beefy chests, as we hugged each other tightly.
"Thanks for the present, Scott. I really enjoy it," I chuckled.
"Well, that was quite a thank you note, Jim," Scott whispered hoarsely, as he tried to regain his breath.
He pulled my hand towards the bathroom, and soon had me in the shower, hot water spraying over my head and shoulders, the heat easing the stress of the day, and the shampoo cleansing the grime and stale air of airports and planes, and the annoying words of family. Tenderly, he washed and scrubbed and rinsed every part of me, tenderly fondling my cock and balls, and my hole, until I was fully relaxed, until his substantial gift of his cum had been washed away by the hot water and gentle attention of his strong hands.
I picked up the soap and sponge, and attended to my lover's hard, muscular body. With equal tenderness, I shampooed Scott's curly hair, and his thick, trimmed beard and moustache, his furry armpits and the thick curls of his chest and belly, his thick forest of hair surrounding his thick, meaty cock, and his heavy ball sack. I pushed back his foreskin, to gently wash and clean his knob, feeling its heat, feeling its weight in my hand, as my mind's eye remembered Scott's fat cock filling my ass with its thick, wet fullness, pumping me, sliding against my prostate, pushing me over the edge to yet another orgasm, filling me with an ache, a need to be held and loved by this strong bear of a man, my lover.
Without Scott in my arms this past week, I had felt empty, alone, unfulfilled. Oh, I had missed our lovemaking; Scott's attentions to my cock, my need to feel my lover's hands all over my body, feeling him find my rhythm, filling my ache to be completely satisfied and loved. And, I missed the taste of Scott's hard cock in my own mouth, his spicy manly aroma, the curly trail of hair across his chest and down his rippled belly, his tight butt dancing across the room when he got out of bed to put on the coffee.
It was so much more. It was the quiet words of encouragement and love, it was his touch on my shoulder, as I headed out for work in the morning, it was his smile when we sat down for dinner, it was his hand reaching for mine while we were walking, or wandering through a gallery, sharing a bit of beauty in our day.
Finally, Scott turned off the water and began to dry me with a large towel. I grabbed another towel, and began to soak up the drops of water that still clung to his furry chest, his beard, and his heavy ball sack. We kissed, again, his moustache still damp against my skin, the heat of his hairy chest warming and drying my own chest, as I felt the beating of his heart and the thickness of his cock still hot, as I hefted it in my hand, the foreskin softly sliding back over the thick rim of my lover's cock head.
"Before you get me all excited again, partner, we need a little refreshment," Scott whispered.
He took my hand and guided me to the living room, to the big picture window overlooking the city. The lights of the downtown and the promenade along the river were ablaze. The colored lights of the last night of the holiday boat parade slowly sailed up and down the river, adding a holiday charm to the bright city, and the receding lines of street lights and Christmas lights in the neighborhoods across the river. A crescent moon had just risen, adding a festive touch to the swath of stars shining down on the peaceful scene.
As I gazed out at the beautiful wintry scene, I heard the rustle of some foil and the pop of a champagne cork. Scott had opened a bottle of champagne, pulling it from its icy home on a stand near the window. He poured the bubbly into two crystal champagne flutes, and handed me the sparkling effervescence, its exploding bubbles tingling my nose and dampening my moustache with its delight.
"Happy new year, partner," Scott said, as he clinked our glasses together and raised his glass to his lips, the light from the city sparkling through his champagne flute, the light haze of bubbles rising in our glasses, tickling our noses, as we sipped the chilled nectar.
"Happy new year, Scott," I replied, feeling the cool wine flow down my throat, the bubbles enlivening my tongue and lips.
We wrapped our arms around each other, muscular shoulder on top of muscular shoulder, as we gazed out at the lights, and the parade of boats. Scott refilled our glasses, as we quietly stood there, taking in the spectacle, and enjoying the silence of our home, and our company, two naked men, being in the moment of the night.
"Now, lover, it's your turn," Scott whispered to me, as he picked up the half full bottle of bubbly and escorted me back to the bedroom.
He lit a few candles on the dresser, and set our glasses down, next to the bottle. He pulled me over to the bed, leaning back, until we both flopped down on the comforter, Scott's beefy arms still holding me close to him, as I now lay on top of this hairy hulk of a man, our groins and chests meshed tightly together.
My bear kissed me tenderly on my lips, and ran his tongue along the bottom of my moustache, sucking gently on my tongue. His moustache tickled my lips, and I felt the bristly ends of his whiskers dance along my lips and through my 'stach, as he drew me closer to him. His warm, beefy hands gripped my naked butt cheeks, drawing me closer to his furry crotch, as his thighs wrapped around my hips. Scott opened himself to me, and moved one hand down to my thickening cock, running a finger along the underside of my shaft, until a drop of my pre-cum oozed from my piss slit, dampening the head of my cock.
Scott reached up, pushing his hand under the pillows and pulled out a long strand of soft nylon rope. A large loop was at the end, secured by a well-tied slip knot. He put his hands together, above his head, his barrel chest stretched out, thick curls of hair shading his well-defined muscles, highlighting his tender, eager nipples, which now were shriveled to hot points of naked flesh. His thick forest of arm pit hair glinted in the candlelight, the hairs damp with Scott's excitement, his lust.
"Tie me up, Jim," Scott whispered. "I want you to fasten the rope tight around my wrists. Then, I want you to have your way with me. Take me, fuck me. I want to feel your hard cock pounding deep into my ass, until you fill me with all of your sweet, delicious cum."
I looked down at my lover with amazement, seeing the pure lust in his eyes, seeing his need to be roped to the bed, his body stretched and helpless before me, waiting for me to ride him with all my own lustful need, until I, too was satisfied by his helpless, naked body.
I slipped the loop and the knot around my lover's wrists, tightening the rope, until his hands and arms were stretched tight on the bed, his body now open below me, waiting for whatever I wanted to do with him. He was mine for the night, for me to do anything I wanted to do with him.
The champagne bottle fit nicely into my fist, as I took my goblet and the bottle back to the bed, where my lover lay, tied, awaiting my desire, captive to my plans for his hairy, open, muscular body. I straddled his head with my naked thighs, feeling the curls of his beard against the skin of my inner thighs, his hair brushing against the tip of my cock, as I looked down on this bear that had so recently spewed his cum into my waiting, eager mouth.
I poured a bit of the champagne into the crystal flute, and brought the lip of the glass to my lover's bearded lips, pouring the bubbly wine into his wet, open mouth. A bit of the wine spilled, wetting his lips, and running down his beard onto the fur of his stretched out muscular chest. I ran the icy bottle over his furry chest, lingering on the tips of his red, inflamed nipples, causing them to shrivel even further, causing Scott to moan with desire, as I moved from one nipple to the other, again and again, chilling his skin and enflaming his now hard cock, which had risen from its forest of thick hair at the base of his belly.
Leaning over my captive lover, I moved the base of the icy bottle around his hot cockhead, turning its purplish, oozing head to crimson, as the cold of the bottle fired his lust. Filling the crystal flute again, I refreshed my lover again, until the bottle was drained, until he was half drunk from the icy wine that had flowed past his lips, the bubbles quickly sending the alcohol to his brain.
Leaving the roped up bear on the bed, I returned to the kitchen, finding a bottle of thick chocolate fudge sauce, and returned to look down on my lover again, this time settling down between his spayed open thighs, so that I could gaze at his hard cock, pulsing with its need, silhouetted against the thick curly hairs of his belly.
I opened the cap on the fudge sauce, and poured a thin stream of the sweet goo, criss crossing Scott's hairy chest with long strands of the fudge, and I leaned over to lick up each drop of the sweet, thick sauce from the hairs, while not missing a chance to nibble at his stiff tits, still cold from their encounter with the first bottle of champagne.
Licking the bottle with my tongue, and picking up a dollop of my own pre-cum, which was leaking abundantly from my own hard cock, I pushed Scott's thighs further apart, so that his ball sack sagged down near his hole, his nuts tight in their sack, the hairs thick and damp from his sweat.
Reaching over to the other side of the bed, I retrieved the mushroom shaped cork from the champagne bottle. The top of the cork felt rough, cold in my hand, and I slowly twisted and pushed it into the rosebud of his hole, until the fat base of the cork slipped firmly into his hole, with the top now firmly held in place.
Scott moaned, his hips writhing a bit as his ass became used to this fat addition to his anatomy, as he squirmed each time I ran my fingers over the rough top of the cork, moving the entire plug tight against the first several inches of his chute.
I filled my champagne flute again, and alternated sips of the bubbly between my own thirsty needs, and Scott's needy lips. Occasionally, between sips, I would slowly jack his stiff wood, holding his dripping manhood in my fist, as the thin skin of his stretched foreskin moved across the wet, enflamed crown of cockhead, causing his ball sack to tighten, and his chest to heave, as he neared his climax, only to realize that I was not yet ready for him to cum yet, and he would have to wait, at least until the champagne was gone.
Scooting closer to his hard cock, I pushed my own cock next to him, and slowly jacked them together, adding a bit of champagne lubrication from the icy bottle. I scooped up some of the juice, which had now mixed with both of our cockhead oozings, and rubbed them across my lover's thick moustache. Scott moaned again, nearly delirious in his need to shoot his wad, to ease the tension in his balls and hard cock, to find release from the tightness and invasion of the champagne cork now wedged tightly up his asshole. Every time he moved, the plug would push against his chute, against his prostate, adding to his pleasure, and his need to fire his load from his heavy, horny balls.
"Oh, Jim, take me," Scott moaned. "I want you now. I need you."
"I'm almost ready, Scott," I whispered in reply. "Just a little more champagne and chocolate, then the celebration can really begin."
After one final tour of my lover's hairy chest with the icy champagne bottle, with yet another icy fondling of his nipples, I drained the last third of the bottle, tipping the heavy bottle up, so every last drop of the wine would flow down my thirsty, eager throat, the bubbles bouncing across my tongue, a bit of the froth again soaking my moustache and dripping onto my goatee.
I moved down, again opening Scott's thick, muscular thighs, as I pushed them apart, again opening his balls and hole to my close attentions. The champagne cork still pulsed and moved up his hole, and his balls had raised in their tight sack, as Scott's thick cock still jerked and pulsed, pre-cum dripping in a steady stream down his shaft. His chest was flushed with lust, and I could tell he was about to explode, his balls now filled to overflowing with his seed, every nerve ending of his body now focused on his imminent climax. The champagne had loosened his inhibitions, and he was focused on my next attentions to his tight, hard cockhead.
My meaty fist gripping the fudge sauce bottle, I poured a few more squeezes of the chocolate fudge sauce the full length of his throbbing cock, soaking his cock head, the thick nest of fur at his cock's root, and coating his hairy, fat balls with the sweet thick chocolate, mixing with his pre-cum, until his manhood glistened in the candlelight, a tasty banana split for my hungry, yearning tongue.
I poured another dollop of the sauce onto my finger, and rubbed the chocolate over Scott's wet lips and moustache, sharing my dessert with my hairy captive stud. Scott moaned with appreciation, his wet tongue now sharing the sweet shiny brown treat.
Slowly, I licked my way over every inch of my dessert, slowly tasting and licking my lover's cock and balls and furry groin, until every bit of the chocolate sauce and pre-cum juices were gone, Scott's cock now again clean, wet, and glistening in the light.
With a slow twist, I uncorked my lover, pulling the rough cork mushroom out of his ass, opening his hole, which now shined wetly next to my cock. Without waiting for his hole to close behind the cork, I quickly slipped my cock head through his open hole, moving my hips, my furry groin next to his open butt cheeks, until my shaft was buried deep inside of him, my balls firm against his cheeks, my curly bush of pubic hair now enmeshed in the hairs of his ball sack.
The heat of Scott's wet chute was tight against my shaft, my cockhead, raising my own lust to a new level, as my balls realized they were near the end of their own journey of pleasure, intensity, and, finally, explosion and release, as my cockhead began to slowly slip back and forth within the tightness of its tunnel of lust.
Scott pulled tightly against the ropes, adding more tension to the muscles of his chest and arms, every muscle of his body now crying for release. Hot lusty sweat poured from his pits and his chest, the pungent, almost ripe male odor, a mixture of yeasty champagne and animal lust filling the room. The candlelight shined on the sweaty chest of my lover, drops of sweat glimmering in the pale, golden light. My own armpits were soaked in my own lusty, champagne sweat, a few drops falling down my belly into the curly hair surrounding my own cock, now fully embedded in Scott's hot ass cheeks and hole.
My hands moved up to grasp Scott's hard, crimson cock, its head drenched in his lubricating juices, his foreskin now pulled tight against his shaft, bunched up around the underside of the rim of his cockhead. His shaft of wet, hot steel was now drenched in his juices, and the remnants of the bit of champagne I had poured on him, when our cocks were pushed together, heat against heat.
As I gazed into the lust-filled, needy eyes of my bear lover, I watched the soft candlelight reflect on the curly whiskers covering his jaw, his chin, and his furry lip. His whiskers grew part way up his cheeks, highlighting the ruddy cheekbones, and his dazzling eyes. His manly beard grew thickly across his firm, square chin, leaving a few bits of open skin beneath his lower lip, accenting the small, thick tuft of curly whisker that some men would keep unshaven as their soul patch, their only bit of manly beard.
My cock twitched and pulsed inside of Scott, as I recalled the many times that Scott had tenderly kissed me, softly rubbing his beard across my face and my hungry lips. And, how often he had continued that caress, by moving his lips, wet tongue, and full beard down my chest, attending to my hot, needy nipples, and then, finally, continuing down my belly into my groin, before finally plunging deep onto my manhood, his beard entangled in my own manly fur covering my full balls and the hairy nest for my needy cock.
I realized that I loved this man, this lover of mine, more than anything on Earth, and that he was not only my Lover, but everything that I could ever hope for in this life. He was my partner, my lover, my soul mate.
And, he was ready to finish his climb to his mountaintop tonight, ready to shoot his load, as his lover pounded his ass with his own needy, aching cock. Two cocks, two lovers, now ready to cum together, as one.
Firmly, I grasped Scott's hard, throbbing cock with both of my sweaty, meaty hands, and began to pump him, feeling his blood course through the arteries and veins of his heavy sword, feeling his balls tighten as I pushed my groin hard against the underside of his ball sack, as I pounded his hole with my cock, my balls bouncing hard against his furry butt cheeks. Our rhythm of pounding and climbing joined together, in one fast tango of desire, need, and lust. The percussion of thrusts, grunts, and the slap of wet, sweaty flesh against hairy flesh grew loud, urgent, filling the room with our song.
Sweat streamed down from my hairy, fiery armpits and chest, drops of sweat flinging from soaked curls of hair and the tips of my hot, stiff nipples, raining down on the sweaty, heaving chest of my lover, his back arched as his muscles tensed, his arms tight against the rope. The bed frame groaned from our dance, moving with the pump of our hips, wood squeaking against wood, rope fibers stretching, flexing.
Again and again, I thrust into Scott's hot ass, as I pumped his thick cock with my fisted hands, sweat and pre-cum and the last of the champagne dripping, flying, oozing from every pore, as we climbed to our peak, ready now, finally, to explode in each other's arms, united at last in our love, our lust for each other.
We both exploded at the same time, spunk rising and bursting from our balls, shooting torrents of yeasty pearls of thick white sperm through the narrow slits of our cockheads, heaving blasts of jism, spasm after spasm, until each of us were fully spent, fully drained of the seed that had laid, unspent, in our balls the entire week we were apart.
Scott's cum had spurted forcefully from his engorged cock pumping in my fist, leaping out across his hairy, rippling belly, and splattered across his hard, straining chest, painting the hair with ropes of pearly seed, crisscrossing his muscles and sweaty skin with long streams of juice.
My spent cock slipped quickly out of Scott's now soaked, sticky hole, and I leaned over my lover to untie the rope still gripping his sweaty, muscular hands and wrists, freeing his arms and releasing the last of the tensions in his chest and shoulders, as his now drained cock flopped noisily onto his hairy belly, his balls now falling loosely in their sack to nestle in the thick curls of his groin.
Our stench of yeasty, fruity cum and manly lust sweat filled our nostrils, as we lay in each other's arms, listening to the wild beats of our hearts subside, feeling the sweat and cum dry slowly on our chests and our sated cocks, the only movement in the room the flickering of the last of the candles, sputtering the last of their wax, the room slowly darkening as, one by one, the candles joined us in offering the last of their fuel, their heat this winter's night.
"Happy New Year, lover. I can't wait for next year's toast."
Copyright 2008. Oregon Bear