The Homecoming - A Love Story

By moc.loa@doowgodjt

Published on Jan 23, 2006

Gay

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Disclaimer: This story depicts scenes of sex between men. If this is not to your liking, please go elsewhere.

The Homecoming - A Love Story

His ample and well-muscled ass gave me one final squeeze, more to say, "I love you," or perhaps, "I'll miss you," than anything else, since I needed to leave on a four-day business trip, and since my softening dick was already well on its way to retracting out of him as he did so. I had similar feelings because we hadn't spent so much as a single night apart since we found each other, and quickly moved in together over a year ago.

His parting comment-more of a command, really-as I backed out of the driveway was, "Save it for me." It wasn't necessary; I had no interest in offering it to anyone else at the moment. The first day was easy enough, in spite of being alone for the duration of the cold but sunny seven-hour drive, though by evening every thought of Vic brought on that familiar tingle of incipient arousal down below. The next morning I woke up hard, sleepily turned over and reached out to....Nothing! Oh shit. Suddenly quite awake, I allowed myself a few autoerotic moments before throwing myself fully into the necessities of the day in hopes of keeping my mind from drifting southward. It worked for most of the day. Well, until lunch at least--by which time, I couldn't help notice, my balls were a bit fuller, a bit larger, and a bit more sensitive than usual since the satisfactorily high frequency of sexual activity with Vic had driven my refueling time down to considerably less than the thirty hours or so that I'd been "without." They say you can teach your body when it's time to eat, how much to eat, when it's time to settle down to sleep, and even when it's time for sexual release, and it was for this last item that my body was telling me, "Now is the time!"

"No. Not now," I said out loud, as if doing it that way would help.

As the afternoon wore on, images of Vic came unbidden into my mind more and more often, and each time that happened, my body reacted. I saw his flat, though not cut abdominal region as he lay naked on the bed awaiting me while I undressed--and felt my 'nads begin to churn. I remembered the differences in the size and shape of his nuts-his right one is larger and oddly bifurcated, as if trying to split into two--as I called up memories of pressing them, one by one, between my tongue and the roof of my mouth, and I felt my cum-generator begin to hum. I inhaled--at least in my mind-the unique scent of him as I pressed my nose firmly into his perineal region while my tongue sampled every part of his testicles within reach, and I felt my own male sacks begin to swell. I felt him gently squeezing me as soon as I'd fully entered him, and my own slowly filling globes began to demand attention as they stiffened noticeably. It was getting harder not to get hard.

Cocktails and a too-long-dinner helped the time pass, but by bedtime I was in serious trouble. Even if I could direct my mind away from sex, my body evidently was not be dissuaded, because I kept getting constant reminders of my need. And each time my mind went there, I felt some renewed activity deep within my balls, and soon they felt a little heavier, a little stiffer. And sleep seemed ever more unlikely.

Sleep did finally come, only to be followed by another day-a harder day-of self-imposed restraint, another day of trying to push away thoughts of my friend, my lover, and of my increasing need, and to focus instead on the education seminar for which I was being paid to attend. And learn. I could only hope I was taking good notes. "Why was this so hard for me," I wondered? Before meeting Vic, there were many occasions when I'd go several days-even a week or more without male "company," but never did I experience the sense of urgency, the need for sexual expression that I now felt. Clearly, Vic was the source of my problem. "Damn him," for putting me through all of this I thought fleetingly, while simultaneously being grateful beyond words that he was such an important part of my life.

Still, sitting through the afternoon session was difficult at best. I could swear that every time I thought of him, I could feel a bit more cum being discharged into my balls, making them a little bigger, a little stiffer. I grew gradually more uncomfortable; my mind wandered more freely, more frequently. A little more cum. A little more tightness. A little more mental wandering-always in the same direction. I was caught in an unbreakable cycle of increasing anguish. I would have started home that evening, but good business practices demanded attending the closing Cocktail Social after dinner, so I was stuck there overnight.

Once again it was time to try to sleep-not my body's first priority just then. Nevertheless I went through the routine: wash up, brush teeth, and then pause for a brief, routine glance in the mirror before heading off to bed. At twenty-five years of age with over nine years of dedicated gym work, I was well satisfied with the two hundred thirty pounds of lean, well-cut muscle on my six-foot-two, strongly-boned frame, noticing even, I thought, some small improvement from a week earlier: weren't those lower lats a little wider, the upper pecs a bit higher, the traps a bit thicker? At first, I carefully avoided looking in the general direction of my dick, not wanting to give it any incentive to spring into action, but given how unusually tight everything felt down there, I risked a brief glance.

I was amazed: they'd never been that big. "Well, at least it'll make Vic happy," I chuckled to myself. Oh shit! I wish I hadn't thought of that. If ever there was a cum-pig, Vic was it, and I suddenly found myself seeing/feeling Vic force my cock as far as he could down his throat and then masterfully working me with this tongue and throat muscles. The patience with which he would pull me in, ever so slowly, and then let me slide out - equally slowly, time and again, never failed to amaze me, and to drive me to ever greater heights of arousal. It didn't take him long to figure out how to bring me to the brink before letting me back off, several times, before capturing the head firmly in his mouth as my climax arrived so he could taste every drop I had to offer before giving in to the need to swallow.

"Damn!" I thought to myself. I should have known better than to look down there-I no longer had any control over the direction my thoughts would take. I was already paying the price in the form of the now predictable result: more cum; more tightness; firmer balls; stiff dick. I'm doomed. I forced my mind elsewhere and got under the covers.

My eyes closed, I took several very deep, relaxing breaths. That helped. Several more. Better. Relax the feet and leg muscles. Good. A deep breath. Exhale; quads and glutes relaxing. Good. More slow, gentle, relaxing breaths. Now the abs. Breathe out v-e-r-y slowly. Back and arms melting into the mattress. Slipping away.

Peace. For a moment. And then ....

Images of Vic. Of his thick biceps-bigger than mine. Of his full, firm, large-nippled chest muscles; also bigger, thicker than mine, but then again, all of him was. Of his over-sized butt waiting impatiently for my entrance....

Shit. This is not going to be easy. More deep breaths. And finally, mercifully..., to sleep. Blessed sleep.

And a dream. A nice dream, if unrealistic as usual. I saw myself in bed, naked, looking down at myself, at my unnaturally large cock, thinking that it hadn't been this hard for quite a while. I saw the look of sublime ecstasy on my face caused by the feelings of intense pleasure rocketing up to my brain from my oversized cock as I teased it ever so gently with my fingertips....down and up.....down and up.... The sensations grew with each trip up to the pre-cum-exuding tip until, all too soon, and clearly approaching the end, I clamped my left hand around my wondrously sensitive meat and immediately put it into high gear. Then there were loud noises coming from my throat and...

I awoke. What's that feeling? I looked downwards. "Shit!" I screamed as I yanked my hand from my cock. It was a scream of frustration, because in the battle of body vs. mind, the body seemed to be winning. It was also a scream of anger, at myself, for stubbornly denying the relief -- and the pleasure -- that I'd feel by simply giving in to my own lust. I realized I was still on the verge of orgasm, so I slammed my arms down on the bed, balled up the sheets in my fists to keep them occupied, and clamped down for all I was worth on my dick-flexing muscle and somehow held it..., and held it..., and held it..., until eventually the danger had passed. I was now breathing hard, so I force myself to relax. And once I was relaxed, I realized, "My balls are aching!" Fuck! That had never happened to me before - well, it had, but not to this extent at any rate. This was not going to be a good day. I looked toward the window. Not daylight. I looked over at the alarm clock-4 AM! Only five hours of sleep? So be it. Quite clearly, more sleep was out of the question right now, so, ignoring the stiffness and the nagging from between my legs, I headed for the shower. I yelled again when the cold water struck. I denied myself hot water. I thought of Bill Murray's cold shower in "Groundhog Day", and of his questioning the owner of the bed-&-breakfast about the lack of hot water. "Oh no, there wouldn't be, today," she had chuckled at him. It made me smile, which helped.

But it was time to go. How far was I from home? From the arms - and mouth - of my lover? Would I be able to last that long? Seven hours or so? I can do it. But then, "Aw-w-w, Hell!" I realized that by leaving now, I'd get back to an empty house, with four or five miserable, lonely, and likely painful hours of waiting for Vic to get home. I can do it. Besides..., better there than here.

So off I went. Driving as fast as I dared. For two hours. Before the water pump failed. Out in the middle of nowhere. In the winter; in the cold; on a dreary, cloudy day. Long tow. Long wait. Nothing to do but think. Of being home. Of what we'd be doing. And with each such thought came the sensation of yet more cum being forced into my sack, and with it the feeling of balls getting bigger, getting harder, hurting more. As I sat passing the hours in the waiting room of the car dealership, I'd now and again hear myself unintentionally emit this soft, or not-so-soft groan of despair/discomfort. People looked; what could I say? The phone call to Vic explaining my predicament, hearing HIS voice, made it worse, of course. Luckily, he didn't say much-he rarely does, and I didn't dare talk long; to hear him was to see him in my head, and I couldn't do that without getting yet further aroused. Not cool.

It was nearly midnight when I got home.

The house was dark. I let myself in and headed straight for the bedroom. I heard some bed noises and pictured Vic sitting up to greet me with a welcoming smile on his face. I should have known better. When it comes to the niceties, he's what you might call a minimalist. All business; that's him. I hadn't turned on any lights, so once I stepped into the room, my already dark-adapted eyes could trace his outline on the bed, made faintly but clearly visible by the low-level lighting coming in through the open window. He was lying still, face down, naked, seemingly relaxed, legs spread slightly, ready for me, inviting me to get to work in his own non-wordy, no-nonsense way.

I could tell he was awake; there were none of the usual sounds of sleep-breathing. He was waiting, expecting me; just not talking. As usual.

I stripped but then stood still, also not breathing--just watching him, appreciating the beauty of his form, anticipating being with him. My dick had been hard since I got into town; I simply gave up trying to keep it down. Images of Vic filled my mind uncontrollably, and I had no desire to push them away. As I stood there, I could feel my dick throbbing in anticipation, a couple pearls of precum clinging on as they slid slowly downward. My shorts had already been dampened by several earlier emissions that I couldn't control.

I still didn't rush over to him; it was enough, for the moment, simply to stand there, losing myself in the feelings of relief that came both from being home and from not needing to hold back any longer. My balls throbbed in anticipation of the much needed release that was soon to come while my dick twitched of its own volition. For most of the last three days, I'd had to deny--indeed, to squelch any such feelings. Now I could bathe in those same glorious feelings that were a prelude to the even more intense pleasure that was soon to come. When my dick gets to twitching like this, I normally take a moment to watch it because it tends to turn me on even more, but not today. My eyes were glued elsewhere--on the magnificent figure, as yet unmoving, on the bed. My bed. Our bed.

I finally moved forward, knowing exactly what he wanted--what I wanted. This was not the time for any gentle, teasing, get-in-the-mood foreplay. It wouldn't be possible--not for long anyway, and certainly not for me. Besides, we were both, quite obviously, already 'in the mood.' Getting into position above Vic reminded me of scrambling up over a small hill, such was the size of him. Vic was six-foot-eight, more heavily-boned and proportionately more muscled then I--he must have had Viking in his blood. Then add in just enough extra fat to smooth out his musculature enough so that one part flowed seamlessly, gracefully, and without interruption into the next, and he had me by a good hundred pounds. His buttocks rose like side by side mountain peaks, eroded smooth and rounded by time, joined together at their base by a steep-sided crevasse whose depths, for the time being, remained hidden from view.

I worked myself into push-up position, body suspended between my arms and the balls of my feet. I held myself that way, with nothing but air between me and my lover, admiring his thick arms and well-muscled back, but still not touching him, letting the feelings of anticipation grow. As if I needed that. I lowered myself just a little, so that the wonderfully sensitive nub on the underside of my dick just b-a-r-e-l-y made contact with a few hairs peeking out from the closed crevice below, and maybe a little skin. I suppose it was because we were both so primed for contact, but the quickness of the response surprised the hell out of me. I had only an instant to notice Vic's entire body turn into a statue-hard sculpture, looking like a single huge muscle contracting for all it was worth, before my dick flexed (itself) so hard it felt like it was going to stretch until it burst through the skin. Why I didn't cum then and there I'll never know, but once I was back in control I looked down to find that I'd left a small wet puddle in the small of my lover's back. Angling my butt upwards to keep my dick away from the enticingly hard flesh beneath, I lowered my tongue to Vic's spine and used it to gently massage some of my precum into his back, first in little circles around where it fell, and then downward into the upper reaches of the deep divide I was all too ready to enter. This was good; it helped relaxed us both. He relaxed his ass muscles a bit, like an invitation, so I pushed my cum-slicked tongue deliciously down inside.

Whoa! Big mistake-my balls tightened and my dick immediately stiffened and flew up towards my abs. Maybe my tongue was connected to my dick, which was now demanding equal time. Interesting, but a bit more arousing than I needed just now.

I retracted my tongue and held still long enough to cool off, returned to my previous position and then twice I lowered myself slightly, letting my overeager cock touch down briefly, exactly between the two mounds of taut flesh. Vic flexed-only his second active sign of life-trying to grab me, but missed. I loved watching his ass; even in the dim light I could see his rounded globes, when flexed, transform into symmetrical solid rectangles of muscle. I smiled at the sight; it never grew old.

But it was time to get serious..., let's see..., shift a little to the right, down a bit until that special, most sensitive part of me touches up-slope on one cheek. Now let it slide down, ever so slowly....oh yeah-h-h....there we are... resting comfortably between his two hills of muscle. Hm-m-m-m....he's not squeezing; he must be enjoying the way my dick is twitching away all on its own, causing it to tap him on the butt..., in the valley of his butt: gently..., repeatedly..., suggestively, tantalizingly. So close to the entrance....

Oh shit! Nice as this is, it can't go on much longer. My dick is once again doing it's stretching, straining, hardening thing;, signaling me that NOW is the time...! I can't believe the patience of the hot body beneath me. I can't believe he's not ready for-and in need of, and demanding of, more action by now. He may be a man of few words, but not no words. This is weird. Wasn't he ready? I've got to say something. As I lowered myself a bit more, pressing my dick slightly deeper into the valley below, I whispered, "May I?"

Considering his silence to this point, Vic's reply was surprisingly immediate: "May I...? " he repeated. Then he made it a statement-a very gruff statement: " 'May I' he asks!" Suddenly, and uncharacteristically, he's on a roll. "I'm dying down here, and you're up there pussy-pricking around and asking, 'May I?' You'd damned well better do something fast or I'll toss your worthless ass out the door even if it is twenty degr-S-s-s-s-s...." His verbal tirade turned suddenly into the loud hiss of air being sucked in between clenched teeth when I raised and tilted my hips to angle my dick downward and then dragged its very wet tip fully along the length of his crack. That stopped him cold, as I knew it would. He was even more of a bottom than I am and responded almost uncontrollably to any and all kinds of contact between my stiff prick and his butt. It never failed to get his attention. And hold it.

I repeated the gesture once more to moisten his skin well, using my weight to push my cock yet deeper into his crack before dragging it slowly, several times, back and forth along the slick sides, from base to tip. I'd noticed how hard my balls felt as they bumped gently against the tensed muscles of his glutes, and after my last upward trip allowed my full weight to settle on top of Vic, pressing my unusually swollen testicles firmly into his butt.

Right away the body beneath me goes even more rigid. Then the butt raises up a little and moves around this way and that. I can feel the glute muscles being flexed every which way, giving me the sense he's using his ass to feel up my balls. He then pulls in his knees, raising both his butt and me up in the air before pushing his rather firm buttocks hard into my nuts. "Ouch!" I yelped. "What are y-mmpff? " Suddenly, I find myself being tumbled off to one side as the behemoth beneath me flips himself up and around so he's on his knees and facing my direction, grabbing hold of me as he does so to keep me from sliding off the bed. With his hands on my hips, he pushes me up into a kneeling position as he lets his bottom settle down onto the bed and then, holding me steady, just stares at my crotch.

I saw his mouth work, but no sounds came out. I really wanted to see what was in his eyes, but he was too mesmerized by the view to look anywhere except at my balls. He just stared some more. "I never knew you could get this big," he finally said in a quiet, slightly awed voice as he cupped my balls carefully, almost reverently (or so it felt) in one hand. He gave me a thorough examination-better than any doctor would ever dare, eliciting from me sounds of both pleasure and of discomfort when he prodded too hard. He finally looked up at me--for the first time since my arrival. The love was there-along with a certain amount of amazement, I thought. It also showed in his voice as he said, "Now I know why they're called rocks." He wasn't joking; he was serious. He looked back down, now using both hands to sample my wares.

I was reluctant to move--his hands felt so good as they carefully checked out, with gentle squeezes, every square inch of the firm, pulsating surface of my now throbbing testicles. I finally managed to speak: "It's all your fault, you know." I tried to smile, but I couldn't: my face was too busy relaxing as the sexual tension drained out of me thanks to the loving ministrations of my surprised--and very pleased--lover.

"Guess that means you missed me," he asked, with a questioning sort of smile? Not very original, but full of significance. It was in fact a question -- not a smug statement. I think that, until that moment, he was not quite certain of the degree our commitment, which I guess means my commitment, even after a full year of monogamous intimacy. Now he thought he knew. I gave him the verification I figured he was looking for: "More than I imagined possible," I admitted. It was perhaps the most deeply sincere statement I'd ever made in my life, and he recognized it as such; I could see the relief and happiness in his eyes; I could also feel it in the renewed caressing of my hypersensitive balls.

He suddenly grabbed me by my waist and pulled us both fully upright on our knees. Then, with a voice filled with an odd combination of almost boyish enthusiasm and the need to be in control, he said, "First you're going to fuck me, as usual, but when you're getting close, you pull out and stick it in here," sticking one finger emphatically down his throat. "THIS I gotta taste," he added as he cupped my balls with one big hand - and with an uncharacteristic possessiveness, which thrilled me to feel. He'd tried to hide the awe in his voice over the size and hardness of my sperm-makers, but I noticed it. Hm-m-m-m..., maybe this'll give me a little edge, for a change. "Is that clear," he asked/demanded?

"You bet."

"I mean it!" He thought I wasn't taking it seriously, I guess.

"I got it; I got it -- with one stipulation." I wondered how this would fly.

His face darkened a bit--he was used to getting his way at certain times--like in bed. "And just what might that be?"

"I'm kinda hungry, too."

That drew a fleeting smile, but he conceded to others' suggestions only grudgingly. "We'll see." And then, startlingly fast for such a big man, and before I could at least try to make him commit to my request, he had flipped himself back around, face down, but with an upraised butt whose valley floor was now quite readily visible. No subtlety here, I thought. No matter; I was ready.


A little too ready, in fact. As soon as the target was front and center, staring me in the face, I felt a couple of strong pulses run through my dick as it hardened up another notch. Shit. As much as I wanted--and needed to get off, I didn't dare dive right in for fear of ending these proceedings almost before they'd begun. Since Vic was waiting patiently, making no further demands, I grabbed onto the outsides of his glutes to let him know I was on my way, but then took the time for two or three deep, relaxing breaths, all the while talking to my genitals: "Whoa, there; settle down, easy does it....easy....easy...." My still twitchy dick said, "Flex me!" I refused. My extra sensitive cock said, "Touch me!" I didn't dare. Oh so slowly, I got the upper hand. Or so it seemed.

"Ah-h-h..., that's better." I'd won, at least for now, and although I thought it was probably safe to go for the Gold--and by God I wanted to--I still wanted a little more preamble--aching balls notwithstanding--and intended to get it. He'd already cut me off once, well, thrown me off, to be precise; I was determined to change that.

I was taking much too long. "Now!" demanded my partner, giving his rear end a little wave. Not yet, I thought to myself. "First, just a little more of this," I advised him, and then placing my hands on the mattress and using my arms for temporary support, I worked my way forward, keeping my weight suspended above him, once again lined up my ever-so-slightly cooled down cock along and within, and lightly touching, his waiting crack, and immediately let as much of my two hundred and thirty pounds as I could manage drop fully onto him. Not expecting this in the least, he dropped flat out onto the mattress. I guess he noticed, though I could barely hear the resulting grunt as he expelled air from his lungs. On the other hand, the sudden movement--and the unexpectedness of it, made him clench his glutes tightly around my dick ("Oh GOD that feels good!" my cock told me.). I agreed, and I wanted the moment to last. So, to my temporarily disadvantaged lover I quickly commanded, "Don't move!"

Normally Vic doesn't respond well to loud directives. My hope was that he'd assume (which he did ) that I was on the verge of cumming (which I wasn't--not quite, at least), and since it was in his best interest to prevent such a premature end to our first coming-together in such a long time, he was willing to do as asked. He did some unintelligible grumbling, but quickly relaxed his muscles--just in case. Even relaxed, I was still being firmly encased by his beautiful muscle-ass, and I thought, "Now this is where I belong. This is where I should have spent my last three days."

One part of me wanted to stay here forever. Why change a thing, I wondered, but my dick was still making its mildly insistent demands, so I conceded and allowed myself a brief but strong flex; Vic took the hint and squeezed back. Oh yeah. Still under control, however. Again. He squeezed harder and did a little massage-thing. It was my turn to, "S-S-S-s-s-s...." O-o-h-h-h, man-n-n-n-n...., I thought. Ok, catch my breath, cool down a wee bit..., ok,..., now flex..., and hold it. No response. Waiting.... Go on...do it you big..Unggh!..., yeah-h-h, that's it.... I felt the glutes relax a bit, but then they began to pulsate around my cock.., slowly..., sensuously..., contract, relax, contract, relax.... I began breathing in time with the rhythm of my lover's ass. Could we just keep this up until sunrise, please? Shit -- I HAVE been away too long: this never felt THIS good! My cock never felt this good. Maybe he could keep this up all night, but I quickly realized that I couldn't; the pulsating ass was heating things up down below. He kept up the undulating rhythm until, 'Oh, fuck!'--that's too much. "Hold still!" I yelled. He did. Ok, ok.., relax...slow down. Breathe deep. Better. I lay very still, my full weight pressing down on my willing lover, getting lost once again in the sensations centered on my dick. Vic had once again started some dangerously slow, mild butt squeezes around my willing and appreciative meat; I suppose he couldn't stop himself. I'm just lucky that he enjoyed this part of the proceedings as much as I did; not many guys would have been this patient, considering the days of separation.

What's that noise? Someone's voice? After some effort at focusing, I finally comprehended the last few (rather loud) words: "...supposed to be FUCKING me!"

Whoops! -- Oh yeah. But I didn't react fast enough; "Now!" he repeated. Not so patient maybe.

I mumbled some kind of apology, but it was time to move. Not so easy to do: I'd fallen into such a relaxed state--most of me anyway, that I was too weak to push myself easily back up. At one point, one arm support slipped and I fell, squeezing one nut hard under my thigh. "Yeow!" Fuck, that hurt. I looked down; they were both off-color and sore as hell, and ready to blow. I was beginning to have serious doubts as to how long I could prolong the fucking part of this particular encounter. As I struggled against my lethargy to get properly lined up, I heard some grumbling about, "...getting your clumsy ass in position...," but no matter. I'm finally there, hands on the big, solid haunches in front of me, when I realize, to my surprise, that in spite of my short-lived but super-relaxed state, my dick is as hard as it had ever been, bobbing about all by itself, and that it was putting out little gobs of precum with every little twitch. Oh Damn! I finally realized that I really WAS close to cumming. Shit --he's not going to like it if we skip over the fucking stage. And I could tell, having now regained full mental awareness of what was going on, that if I did my usual, and mutually agreed upon slow, provocative entrance, the constant, lengthy friction was likely to send me over the edge.

I glanced habitually down at the overly-inviting muscle-butt beneath me, if only because I like always get a thrill from the view. The particular butt in question was apparently getting tired of waiting because suddenly the entire collection of muscle flexed into a pair of heavily chiseled bricks, closed together like the two halves of a vice. Truly a thing of beauty-an "object d'art." I allowed myself a momentary smile of appreciation before moving on. However, I still had this little problem: those painfully ready-to-explode nuts attached to my over-sensitive dick. I could only think of one thing to do: after applying a little extra lubrication and waiting for that vice to relax slightly, I got the wet tip of my cock up against his entrance, tensed my thigh muscles, and then, still expecting considerable resistance, thrust inward--hard--with the intent of getting all the way in before my dick had a chance to react. Vic must have sensed my intentions, because at the exact instant that I began to thrust, his entire core seemed to relax totally. It was never much of a challenge getting into him anyhow, given his size, but this time I felt like I was diving into very soft butter, causing my groin and rock-hard balls to slam into Vic's butt at full speed. This time, however, he was ready for me, and aside from the sound of our impact, some slight rocking, and the combined sound of my loud, surprised grunt when all of my mass came to such a sudden stop, plus my yelp of pain when my balls got pummeled-yet again, I might as well have been the proverbial 98-lb weakling giving him an ineffectual love-tap.

So how did he react? He gave me a brief, hard squeeze as if to say, "Glad you could make it," but what he said was, "Took you long enough." It was my turn to grumble: "You ungratefu--sss-s-s-s.oh-h shit." He'd cut me off with a hard, rapid-fire dick massage that nearly blew my control; I was taking short, rapid breaths, like a woman in labor doing Lamaze, and squeezing the fire out of my shut-off muscles to keep from going over the brink. I barely managed to grunt out between breaths, "I thought..., you..., wanted..., a taste!" He stopped. I slowly backed off to Defcon 4. The urgency decreased some, except in my balls, which were now pulsating in their need and their pain worse than ever. I was quietly moaning with each pulsation. Vic asked what was wrong; I told him. He acknowledged my predicament with a gentle squeeze of understanding that said thanks for holding off. A man of few words, but sometimes actions were nicer than words.

So here I was, in a state of blissful pain, sort of biding my time for the moment. Truth be told, if I felt like I'd been warmly welcomed home earlier when he was repeatedly squeezing my all-too-ready dick between his gluteal muscles, I now felt like I was back in the womb: warm, safe, and cozy. Vic, however, was not in the mood for warm, safe, and cozy; he had other ideas, more in the direction of hot 'n heavy. He had squeezed me moderately, holding fairly steady, but with enough pulsations to tell me to get a move-on. But by then, I was no longer thinking--just feeling. I was utterly content, but my two or three appendages (depending on how you count them) in and around my partner's ass were not, and the urge to move..., the need to move, was completely irresistible.

But to move too fast would be, I knew, a bit dangerous. I wanted to start with little, slow movements to check my ability to maintain control, so I made myself comfortable on the broad, thick, solid Vee of muscle beneath me, adjusting the position of my arms around Vic's chest, reaching up and pressing my fists into his pecs while simultaneously teasing his nips with my fingers: I wanted to make sure that I wasn't too far ahead of him. I then made some small move that signaled him to relax his grip so I could glide outward without experiencing any extra friction; we both wanted to extend this as long as possible.

I started slow...a few half-inch strokes-he wasn't squeezing on me as yet---now an inch...., now maybe two--, oh yeah-h-h, my dick is startin' to stretch out, as if it's looking for the logical/physical conclusion to all of this, and I can feel the skin thinning out. S-s-s-s...o-o-o-o.., breathe out, breathe out..., good, keepin' my cool. So far my thrusting is mild, coming just from tilting my hips back and forth; gotta move to get more action. I can't really drive from my knees-his ass is too high because of how he's holding himself, so I'm back into a kind of modified push-up position-arms alongside his lats, my abs 'n groin supported by his back and butt, pushing from the balls of my feet. I began to quickly lengthen my strokes, and was soon giving him all I had to offer from my decently thick but otherwise barely average-sized cock. Given the thickness of his butt, along with my piss-poor understanding of the internal male anatomy at the time, I was concerned, the first time we fucked, whether my dick would even reach his magic button. Stupid worry, of course, but I didn't know.....

While my mind was wandering, my dick was moving faster, and the effect was. Ungh!..., Oh, fuck! Clamp down.. shut it off! There ya go..., deep breath, deep breath... Out of danger. Luckily, it wasn't just me having the problem. My normally quiet, close-mouthed muscle-hunk down below was making similar groans and restraining noises, so I balanced myself in order to check out his dick with one hand. In one fast motion, I lightly wrapped my fingers around the thickest part of the shaft-barely touching it, as I moved up to cup the large helmet in my palm, but even the briefest of contact was all it took to set off an involuntary dick flex, accompanied by a huge surge of pre-cum, which I was there to catch. Hm-m-m..., it looks like maybe he exercised a little self-restraint himself while we were apart. Then, knowing he'd enjoy it, I brought my palm-wet with his fresh, warm, sticky juice, up to his right pec and gave his tit a nice warm, wet cum-massage. He reacted immediately: from my vantage point deep in his butt, I could feel his muscle flex as he clamped down to keep himself under control. I let my hand drop down to the sheet - Whoa! - quite a puddle down there! Not much doubt now: he'd saved up. This was definitely not normal-not to this degree. I surprised myself by experiencing an unexpected surge of love toward my partner when I realized that he hadn't expect a sacrifice of me that he wasn't willing to endure himself.

The sudden slam of a large, blunt object into my groin made me realize a couple of more things. Item #1: Said partner had by now taken matters into his own hands-or in this case, his own ass. Gentle caresses were no more; he was now into full bore fucking. Item #2: So was I. When did that change occur, I wondered? While some small part of my brain had been out and about having sweet, romantic notions about its-my-lover, the rest was on autopilot, having turned over complete control to the body it inhabited, allowing it to do exactly as it pleased. And it was. I noticed vaguely, as my groin flew forward to meet the oncoming, twin globes of muscle, that my hands were now braced somewhere on upper reaches of the broad back beneath me as my dick forcefully, and repeatedly, slammed home.

And with the completion of each movement came a kind of awful/wonderful agony as my already taut and sore-beyond-my-experience balls got squeezed between the two out-of-control bodies as they came together. I wanted to stop, at least for a few brief moments, after each impact, but I couldn't, because my dick was enjoying this too much. With every thrust it felt like it was getting bigger..., and harder..., stretching out more, and more, the sensations increasing with every trip through/between the muscles that were so tightly clenched around it. But it was never enough. It constantly demanded more. "Give me another thrust!"

"And another!"

No matter how hard, or fast I moved, no matter the angle-high, or low-no matter how hard I flexed it as I drove forward, there was no satisfying it. I wanted to slow down, but even though each stroke felt better than the last, such temporary satisfaction wasn't enough-- it only made another thrust an absolute necessity. My goal was now in sight; reaching it soon was inevitable. By now I was groaning/shouting loudly at the completion of every stroke, and so was Vic--though I could barely hear him above my own clamoring. "NNNGH!/Unnh-h-h-h..." And again. We were hurdling quickly along the track.

And again-"Oh Shit! - I c'...nnNNGH!" . By this time I knew I would have no will, and no way, to stop this train. I tried to find the brakes-but couldn't. I tried to focus on my surroundings in an effort to regain some control-but I couldn't. I tried to think about..., um-m-m.., Vince? - no! - Vic!.., yeah.., I tried to focus on Vic, but I could not. I.. nnnNG! .. breathe, dammit.., breathe. It wasn't helping. The world was my dick; nothing else mattered. I hardly even noticed that my balls hurt worse than ever; it didn't matter, because that particular pain was completely overwhelmed by the wonderful and addictive sensations emanating from my blazing hot cock. That was all I could feel.

In the middle of it all, there came a microsecond of clarity during which it occurred to me that I was being a truly piss-poor lover right now; I had no thoughts whatsoever of my partner's welfare. What was he feeling? Was he getting the same great surges of sexual bliss that I was? Was I being at all considerate of his need? I hoped so, but if not, well, I couldn't do anything about it anyway: my dick was driving me uncontrollably onward..., faster.., harder..., Oh - Jesus! - Oh, F__--nnNNGHH! ... and still faster....

What? A loud sound - from where? Did someone say something? Nnnnn-n-n-nn..., never mind... Is this heaven? My dick was pushing its way, pretty easily it seemed, through something hot, wet, and tight..., Oh,, G-a-w-d! ... I can see the end..., it's - wait a second. Isn't there something I'm supposed to ...? Something about Vic-. Hey! - my dick suddenly feels lost, exposed, as I'm being tossed sideways. But it's throbbing..., and screaming..., and something is - oh shit, now I remember; but by now Vic is frantically twisting himself around as he tries to grab hold of me. I expel a few quick, short breaths in an effort to slow things down a bit; nothing doing - too far along.

Still, I managed to get to my knees as one of Vic's hands pushes me upright. I had just enough awareness to yell out, "Hurry up!"

I felt one large hand grab my ass, and another my dick..., and then...

It seems so strange now, thinking back on it. The next brief moment of time - surely not much more than a second, went by as if someone had filmed it at regular speed and was now playing it back in Super-Slo-Mo. I had felt, more than saw my dick bobbing spasmodically about until my lover brought it under control, and then watched with supremely erotic anticipation as He grasped my receptive rod and slowly (it seemed), carefully, lovingly, but mostly longingly, stretched his lips over and around the glistening, purple head.

And I was in! Oh, Man-n-n-n.... At last. R-E-L-I-E-F! I exhaled and finally relaxed as His lips closed firmly around my shaft, ensuring that I couldn't slip out. All remaining tension simply vanished. The moment I'd been desperately awaiting was finally here; I could just let go and enjoy the moment. I watched as he removed His hand from my safely entombed cock and slowly moved it around to my ass, encouraging me to lean into Him a bit. I saw the fingers on both of my hands slide through His hair until my palms were firmly cupping His scalp, pressing Him slowly towards me. His tongue began it's slow exploration of the now-gaping crevice that divided my mushroom-shaped cap in two. And the moment was here: I could feel the first ball of true cum pushing its way into the channel at the base of my dick, and then almost immediately, my dick began to send out signals of supreme satisfaction-and relief-as the first load of thick, slightly aged juice moved slowly along the last few inches of its journey just before being launched out into my lover's waiting mouth. I felt the heated wad of jizz force open the exit slit and push its way out, directly onto the tongue which lay in wait, already pressed up against the tip of my delivery vehicle.

A moment earlier, while being navigated into position, I had remembered, somehow, the intense desire I'd heard earlier in his request to taste of me, so I looked down and fixed my gaze on Vic so I would see his reaction. I managed to keep my eyes open just long enough to see his expression change from one of deep, wide-eyed concern, bordering on fear, of being late, to one of gratified satisfaction once he'd latched securely onto me, to one of consummate joy, once my first offering had emptied into him, that his expectations had been met. Seeing his face filled me with such satisfaction that I could now, at last, relax my mind completely, and open it up to the various pleasures I was receiving.

Time returned to its normal, all-to-fast pace, yet I still recall with the greatest of clarity my exquisite feelings of completion and satisfaction as the power of my ejaculations increased for the next two shots - and my accompanying shouts of both pleasure and relief, before gradually tapering off, but I didn't recall hearing Vic right then, when everything was climaxing. Odd. We normally sound off together at this point. I thought no more of it - for now.

I don't know how long we remained in that position, or when the change occurred, but when awareness returned, I felt, then saw, his face pressed firmly into my pubic hair as my cock retracted slowly, yet too quickly, from his throat. My hands, still clamped to Vic's head, gently encouraged it back away from me, after which we both toppled sideways and fell so very naturally into one of the longest kisses I can remember. Lying there, quiet and still, I noted, with no surprise, that my male thing was showing no signs of getting back into action; I figured it needed a good rest after a couple of days of being "up" way too often. On the other hand, there was this thick, hard, throbbing thing squashed up against my abs, and it wasn't mine. Vic never recovered this fast either - not normally, at any rate. I had to say something, so as I pressed myself up against his hardness for emphasis, I asked, while still face to face, looking into his eyes, "Since when are you so quick to....." Then it hit me. I remembered not hearing his familiar ejaculatory noises - and what that meant. I pushed him away from me and onto his back as I scrambled up onto my hands and knees and in the dim light excitedly ran my hands over the sheet, looking for the additional, large wet spots I knew I wouldn't find.

And of course, I didn't. I started smiling inwardly. I got to my knees alongside Vic's huge form and looked down, first into his eyes-eyes that understood what I was thinking, and then at the rest of him. It was my first good look at all of him since I'd arrived. With my left hand I cautiously cupped his balls and tested them as you would a peach for ripeness. Yup, as I expected-rocks. I looked into his eyes as I continued to hold his cum-inflated sacks, gently pulling, and suggestively squeezing, trying to tell him that I felt a little possessive, too. He smiled; he'd understood, and still he smiled. I wanted to settle down on top of him and simply lie there, holding him, but that would have to wait. Instead, I took my right hand and lightly held his cock between my fingers, slowly running my thumb up its length. As soon as the cock muscles began to contract, I moved my palm under its tip and caught the sizable dollop of precum that squirted out. This kid was r-e-a-d-y. I scooped it up with the fingers of my left hand and coated the head of his penis and then immediately bent over and thoroughly tongued him clean, carefully keeping my tongue up on top of the mushroom cap and around his slit where he wasn't supersensitive, at least. He seemed mostly to relax into the mattress, even as his body tightened up a bit at the same time. Then, knowing that he wanted, and needed, to bring this to a rapid conclusion, I let the tip of my tongue slide softly down the length of the sensitive underbelly of his now inflamed dick, and then even more slowly back up.

His whole body stiffened up, after which he managed to get out, in the midst of a strain-filled grunt, the single word/command/plea, "Now!"

This time I was happy to obey him.

Now.

The End

Deadliftr

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