PLEASE NOTE: This story is fiction from beginning to end. The characters don't exist, and the things they do, never happened.
Yearning (M/t, oral, anal)
by einhard
Jerry unfolded his hands and opened his eyes. It hadn't worked this time, either. Why were his prayers never answered? The voices inside his head had an answer for him: "Because you don't want them to be. You want it to happen. You desire it! You need it!"
"I don't!" screamed Jerry silently. As if in reply, images stole into his mind, and his cock responded by thickening and lengthening. Jerry could almost hear the voices chuckling softly.
He heard it then. The soft noise of something heavy landing, catlike, on the small balcony outside his room. His heart at once started beating frantically.
The smell was intoxicating, even if the man stood all the way down by the end of Jerry's bed. Jerry always thought of him as "the man", even though he knew him. The man was only two years older than himself. No more than nineteen. Jerry knew his name, too, knew the place where he worked, where he lived. Yet he was always "the man". The smell was of lubrication oil, a little sweat; not stale, but fresh. There was tobacco, too. And something else, something undefinable. That smell was the essence of "the man", the thing that drove his thoughts of sin and damnation out of his mind the minute he sensed it. It would attack him sometimes at school, too, and not at times when the effect was easiest to hide.
The man's belt slapped softly against his body as he loosened it. Then the familiar sound of denim slidng against skin. And the smell! Jerry was leaking.
The man came to the side of the bed and threw the cover aside, revealing the full length of the hugely erect teenage boy lying in it. He leered lustily, then crawled onto the bed. As usual, he positioned himself astride Jerry's body, arching his back to give the boy an eyeful of the long, elegant cock and the hairless balls that hung low beneath it. Putting his hands on the bed, the man knee-walked up, sticking the cockhead in Jerry's nose. With his hand, he moved it carefully around, smearing the pre-cum on Jerry's upper lip before forcing the hard throbber down, pushing at Jerry's lips. They opened at once, and the thing slid inside the waiting mouth. Soon, the man was holding Jerry's head and making fucking motions. Jerry couldn't help moaning just a little, but checked himself.
As if of their own volition, his hands moved up to the back of those steely thighs above him, stroking them, then up further still, caressing the soft, warm globes of the man's ass, gliding over them, moving towards each other, searching for the place where those two orbs met...
Slap! The man had released Jerry's head,and the sharp contact with his right hand on Jerry's left burned. Hastily, Jerry let go of the man's body and lay still, cringing inwardly.
"I told you! None of that queer stuff, okay?"
Figthing back his tears, Jerry nodded.
"Turn over!"
The man moved away, and Jerry obediently lay on his stomach.
"You ready for me, like I said?"
"Yes", whispered Jerry.
"Good boy!"
Pride surged in Jerry's chest, and again, the tears had to be fought back. The man put his hands on Jerry's hips, raising them slightly off the bed. The moist anal openinglooked up at him, almost shining in the reflection of the moonlight. Jerry, trembling with shame and anticipation, had lubricated it liberally only fifteen minutes earler, just before his prayer session.
There was a short pause, during which the man put on a condom. He had said he would prefer to do it bareback, but if cum started trickling out onto the bed while Jerry was sleeping, somebody would find out. Jerry was in a panick about that, and the man had agreed to condoms.
The heat of the man's body on his back was overpowering. Then the soft pressure against his hole, the sharp stab of the entry, the stop, the painful, yet wonderful feeling of the long tube going in, in, in... There was no longer any "almost" about it. Jerry was overpowered. As the man quickly got into a rhythm, pulling out and pushing in, going hard, making Jerry bounce up and down on the bed - thankfully, the springs didn't creak - it was all Jerry could do to reach for his pillow and bury his face in it. The guttural noises that could no longer be held back were muffled, and Jerry's hands clenched the big, thick pillow harder and harder as the tension in his body and in his groin rose higher and higher and higher...
The man had stopped moving, and was grunting and twitching on his back. Jerry knew he was ejaculating inside the condom. What he wouldn't give for the feeling of that hot, viscous fluid inside him, directly, with nothing to shield him...
The man pulled out abruptly, painfully, killing every hope Jerry had of achieving orgasm while that wonderful thing was still in him.
A couple of times, the man had stayed in bed with Jerry afterwards, lying beside him, letting him feel the warmth. Once, he'd even taken him a second time, with Jerry lying on his side, one leg lifted high and resting in the man's hand, the other stretched out fully against the man's leg, Jerry's back and the man's front in full contact.
But not today. The man was already dressed, and Jerry only caught a glimpse of him as he jumped out on the balcony, then stretched to climb up on the roof, which he would then leave from the side facing the woods. A short flash of revealed abdomen was Jerry's reward, the one he would dream about until the next time.
For a minute or two, Jerry just lay there, lost in thought. Then he quickly stretched out a hand, found a small towel under his mattress, wiped his asshole, sniffed the towel briefly and whimpered. Ten seconds later, he was on his back, the towel on his stomach and chest, his right hand moving in a blur up and down his shaft. The explosion was intense, as if all of Jerry's pain and desire were in it. Actually, some of it missed the towel altogether and landed right below Jerry's lower lip. He flicked out his tongue and caught it.
Five minutes after that, his dick and body wiped dry, Jerry was on his side, tears rolling. Why did it have to be this way? Why wouldn't God help him turn away from this wickedness? Why? Why?
The voices chuckled softly.
This story is copyrighted by me, einhard. (c) 2002. All rights reserved.
Any comments? Did you like the story? Hate it? You can mail me at: einhardno@yahoo.com