His skin was warm, as though he had just come out of the sun. As he slipped into my arms, I felt his flesh come together with mine, the hair on his torso rasping along my shirt. I was pinned beneath him, the weight of his body heavy and delicious. When he leaned to kiss me, I parted my lips and drew his tongue in. His mouth tasted of whiskey, thick and strong, and I sucked gently on his full lips.
Running my hands down his back, I let my fingers play over the bones of his spine. His muscles moved against my hands in response, pushing against them in slow waves. When I reached the soft indentation at the top of his ass, I slid my hands under the fabric of his overalls. He was naked beneath them, just as I’d hoped he would be, and almost immediately my hands were filled with the sweet mounds of his ass cheeks.
Moving around his waist, I sank my fingers deep into his crotch. His cock was half-hard, falling into my fingers heavily, followed by his fat balls. I held his prick tightly as he continued to kiss me, enjoying the heat it gave off. Reluctantly letting go, I removed my hands from his pants and undid the buttons holding them closed at the waist. I pushed them over his beautiful ass and he shucked them onto the floor. Then he helped me out of my clothes, our fingers tumbling together as we reached for the same buttons, laughing.
When I was naked, Luke knelt over me, his hands on either side of my head. His cock swung down and grazed along my stomach, swaying as he rocked slightly on the big bed. The head was fat and round, the shaft thick. His balls hung down behind his prick like a bag of gold hefted by an unseen hand. I ran my hands over his chest, through the thick hair, then leaned forward and let it brush my cheek.
Outside, the rain continued to fall quick and fierce on the stones of the street, rattling on the roof in sharp beats. The storm rolled over and around the town, playing with the town like a giant tossing a ball back and forth in its hands. Thunder grumbled low and steady, while splinters of lightning shattered cracks in the blackness of the sky. The lights flickered once and then were still, the room suddenly swallowed up.
I could feel Luke on top of me, the comforting strength of his thighs around my sides, the heaviness of his cock pressing against me. “Do you have any matches?” he asked.
“On the dresser,” I said.
He got up and padded across the room. I saw his shadow move across the square of dim light that filled the doorway to the terrace and then disappear again. Then there was the scratch of a match and a blossom of flame broke from the darkness. Luke put the match to one of the candles on the dresser, then blew it out.
The light from the candle crept up his face as he held it out, turning him into a strange vision lit with gold. He carried the light toward me and brought it to the lips of several more candles until the bed was flooded with soft tongues of light that darted and played over the expanse of the white sheets and my naked body.
Luke came back to the bed and once more lay on top of me. One of his hands went behind my neck, and he started to kiss me again. As he did, he thrust himself along my stomach, the heat from his prick burning into me. Wrapping my leg around his, I pushed hard against him, feeling the muscles of his ass pumping as he moved.
My hands were tangled in his hair while we kissed, my fingers holding tightly as his tongue explored my mouth, insistent and hard. When he rolled onto his back, I came with him, so that I was lying between his spread legs. Looking down, I saw that his cock was still only half-hard.
Sliding down, I took the head between my lips. As I sucked softly at it, thick beads of sweet juice poured from the small lips. The taste of Luke’s cock filled my throat as I took his whole prick into me. My face was pressed tightly against his groin as I fed on him, my tongue working the length of him, urging his cock to life.
As Luke’s prick filled and swelled, I could no longer keep all of it in. While he had seemed large when soft, his growing prick was becoming even huger. The shaft was thickening until I could barely get my lips around it, the head stretching my throat. Fully hard, his dick was as straight and thick as a redwood sapling.
Unable to suck his cock to the root, I contented myself with licking the length of it. I loved the way the landscape of his tool changed as I traveled it, the softness of the head narrowing into the rock-hard shaft, the vein beneath the skin pulsing as I moved along it until my tongue felt rough hair and my lips filled with the musky hair of his crotch.
Luke wrapped a hand around his balls and pulled up on them until they were right under my nose. He rubbed the furry sac over my lips roughly, and I licked at its heavy contents. Taking one smooth ball into my mouth, I sucked gently. Luke moaned and I felt him begin to stroke his cock. He pulled his legs up so that I could have more room to move.
As he did, his hips shifted forward and his ass cheeks parted slightly beneath his balls. The area between his cock and his ass was rich with hair that trickled into his crack. Seeing it exposed like that ignited something inside me, and I pressed my mouth against it hungrily, my tongue licking eagerly. Going lower, I explored the valley between his cheeks, tasting the rich musk of his skin.
Luke’s hands came between his legs and the thick fingers pulled his ass cheeks even farther apart as though he were breaking a piece of thick, warm bread. His asshole, wrinkled and surrounded by hair, lay between the meaty flesh. I dove into it, the scent of Luke’s body mingling with the smell of the sea on his skin. My tongue worked across the hot skin of his hole, tracing the folds, licking up his rich sweat. The hair of his legs brushed lightly on my cheeks as I ate out his hot hole.
As I worked on Luke’s ass, I could feel the rise and fall of his nuts and knew that he was jerking off. He was moaning loudly, and his hips were thrusting against my face heatedly. “I’m going to come,” he said raggedly.
I looked up from between his legs just in time to see a geyser of white erupt from his prick and splatter onto the hair of his chest. His cock kept spewing gobs of jism until he was covered in it. The fingers wrapped around his piece were coated in sticky strings, and the shaft was slick with his juice. In the light from the candles, the pools of cum shone like gold.
I took his hand and began to lick the cum from his fingers, taking each one into my mouth and sucking it clean. The flesh was still hot from stroking his prick, and I could taste the combined flavors of cum and ball sweat on his skin. I moved on to his still-hard cock, washing every inch of the huge tool eagerly before licking the puddles of cum from his body. He had soaked his entire chest with his load, and it took a long time to get it all off.
As I licked up the heady smears from his torso, Luke was rubbing his cock slowly against my dangling one, pushing the big head along it until it slipped into my ass crack. That, combined with the fact that I had a belly full of his cum, was almost enough to make me shoot my own load.
“I want you to make love to me,” I whispered into his ear.
Luke smiled. “Oh, I plan on it. But first I want to play with that beautiful prick of yours for a while.”
Rolling me over, Luke knelt between my legs and started to pump my prick steadily. I was already worked up and was afraid I was going to burst before he got a chance to fill my ass with his big meat. But whenever I’d get close, Luke seemed to know, slowing down until my need died enough for him to resume his hand job.
Luke’s lips closed over the tip of my cock and I slipped into his throat like a ship sinking into the sea. His mouth was warm, as though he held the sun beneath his tongue, and as he sucked my prick I felt acutely every movement of his mouth along my shaft. I arched my back, rising up to meet his downward strokes, fucking his handsome face. My hand on his head encouraged him to speed up his strokes, and he slid up and down my cock steadily, drawing rivers of pleasure from my near-bursting balls.
While he continued to blow me, Luke pressed a fingertip against the opening of my ass. Rubbing in tiny circles, he loosened it up until he could slide in an inch or two. My muscles clamped greedily around his thick finger, urging him deeper, but he continued to work only on the entra
nce to my chute until he was fucking me in time with the path his mouth trod along my prick.
Slowly he worked his finger into me, pushing it farther every time. I thought I was going to cry out from the exquisite feelings he was coaxing from me. Finally I felt his knuckles against my cheeks and knew that he was all the way in. Luke let his hand rest for a few seconds wrapped in my warm folds before pulling out and starting all over again with two fingers.
His hands were large, and having two of his fingers in me was like being fucked by a good-sized cock. When he had three buried to the joint inside my aching hole, I felt as though my balls were going to burst from the force of the pleasure inside them. I rocked my ass back and forth on Luke’s hand, moaning and begging him to fuck me. My cock was so hard I was sure it would shatter like glass if he touched it again.
Then his hand was gone. I barely had a second to catch my breath before Luke had my legs over his shoulders and his cock was pounding its way into my ass. My chute stretched to new limits as his thick shaft pushed deep inside me. I took several quick breaths, overcome by the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure that was flooding me. Every nerve in my body seemed centered on the point where his cock was burrowing into me.
My legs were flat against Luke’s strong chest, rising and falling with his even breathing as he made love to me, easing his cock back and forth in steady rhythm. I closed my eyes, the sound of the storm filling my head, the song of the rain playing behind the touch of Luke’s big cock.
The harder he pumped my ass, the stronger the feelings flowed through me. I started to stroke my cock in time with him until the movements of my hand became an extension of his thrusts. Luke had his hands around my ankles and held my legs apart so that he could watch his cock disappear into my welcoming hole. His face glowed with sweat in the candle flames, turning him gold and red as he gazed down at me from between my thighs.
It seemed as though he fucked me for hours, his hard prick never stopping its back and forth motions. I felt as though the whole room were filled with him, the smell of his skin, the taste of his mouth, the touch of his hands. We had built a world of warmth and light within the storm, and there we could make love forever.
Luke’s thrusting was speeding up, and I saw the muscles of his neck tense as he tried to hold off the force that was clamoring for release within him. His head went back and he pumped me three more times before sinking home and letting his load roar out, filling me with sweet streams of his jism.
As he filled my ass I came in a great shivering spurt that exploded into the air and splattered my face and neck in thick rain. Three times I came, each one sending a fresh burst over my sticky body.
Luke pulled out of me and stood up. “Come on,” he said, holding out his hand and pulling me to my feet.
He walked across the room to the doors that opened out onto the terrace. Pushing them apart, he stepped directly into the mouth of the storm. I followed, laughing at his foolishness or bravery, I couldn’t tell which.
The rain was surprisingly warm, washing over us in wild gusts. The thunder and lightning crashed overhead, but Luke seemed not to mind. It also didn’t seem to bother him that anyone might look up and see two naked men standing on a balcony in full view of the street. He ran his hands over me, wiping the cum from my skin until I was clean. Then he let the water sweep over him as well, lifting his face up to greet it.
Back inside, I grabbed some towels from the bathroom and we dried off. We lay down on the big bed, Luke’s arms around me, surrounded by the flickering eyes of the candles. As I watched the storm outside, I remembered what Luke had said to me the first time I’d seen him, about not wanting to leave, and thought he might just be right.
The Men’s Room
There’s something unmistakably male about a men’s room: the smell, the urinals, the line of guys pretending not to look at one another’s dicks while they piss. There was a men’s room in Boston I used to visit often on my way home because it happened to be in the subway station where I caught the train. More than once I looked down into a urinal and saw someone else’s load floating in the water. This story came—as it were—from wondering who had left them.
The men’s room smelled of ammonia and flowers, the strange bittersweet scent that clung to it after the cleaning person had finished washing the white tile floors and scrubbing the toilets with rubber glove–clad hands. It was after seven, and I was about to go home for the night after a long day of wrestling with contract negotiations for a television spot featuring a temperamental tennis hotshot. My bladder was aching, and I just wanted to piss and get out of the office. I walked up to the closest of the two urinals. Unzipping my pants, I reached in and pulled out my cock, feeling it hang heavily in my fingers.
The vein on the underside of my prick swelled as a stream of piss rushed out, breaking from my hole and splashing down onto the bright pink triangle of disinfectant that rested in the cupped hands of the bowl. I watched the pale yellow rainstorm tumble from my pipe, enjoying the heavy thundering sound it made when it hit the water, the way the pitch changed as the torrent became a slow stream before sputtering out.
As I shook the last drops from my dickhead, I saw that lying across the cold whiteness of the urinal’s freshly cleaned rim was a single hair. Reddish brown, it curved sinuously along the surface of the porcelain like a fine vein running beneath the skin where it stretches paper thin over the bones of a hand. I stared at it, pleased by the way it cracked the otherwise seamless lip like a scar, a reminder of another man’s recent presence.
Then I noticed the cum floating in the water, four small islands of sticky whiteness strung together by fragile filaments thin as cobwebs. I gazed at the sight, intimately familiar but at the same time so alien in its context, and an image began to form in my head. I pictured a man standing at the urinal, his legs slightly apart, his prick held firmly between thumb and forefinger as he pissed. He gripped himself tightly, enjoying the beating of his own cock against his fingers, stroking himself so subtly that the man next to him was completely unaware that his neighbor was getting pleasure from what appeared to him to be nothing more than another repetition of a function performed without thinking many times each day.
As I thought about the faceless man, my prick began to stiffen in my hand. The idea of him gripping his manhood, bringing himself off in the open of the men’s room where anyone could walk in excited me. I imagined the look on his face as he came, the motion of his wrist as he milked the cream from his shaft, loosening the hair that lay now on the urinal. Or perhaps it had fallen from his fingers when he had been forced to tuck his sticky cock, still hard, back in his pants as the door opened and a coworker entered, nodding an oblivious greeting.
I stroked my cock as I thought about it, and soon my hard dick was sticking straight out from the dark blue folds of my suit pants, the head swollen and anxious. I started to imagine all of the men who stood in front of the urinal during a given day, each one with a different cock, individual in its shape and length, each man with a different way of holding his prick. As I beat my piece quickly, I envisioned them adding their piss to the endless stream that flowed through the urinal’s open mouth and down the silver pipes of its throat, wondering how many of them knew what else went on in the bathroom.
I came in a long, furious shot that splattered against the back of the urinal. A sticky smear stained its white skin like a wet handprint across a cheek, reaching down into the water where it mingled with the other man’s. I was about to flush away the remains of my hand job but decided instead to leave my load in the urinal for the next man to see. I laughed to myself as I pictured the expression on his face as he looked down and saw the sight of cum, so much like what came from his own prick when he jerked off but belonging to another man. I wondered if he, like me, would find the experience arousing. Brushing my fingers through my bush, I pulled out one black hair and laid it next to the reddish one before leaving for the night.
When I went into the bathr
oom the next morning, the urinal was once again sparkling clean, all traces of the cum stains wiped from its blank face. Periodically during the day I recalled the odd thrill aroused in me by seeing the man’s pubic hair and jism and was overcome by the need to jerk off again. But once again I was busy untangling various work snarls, and it wasn’t until long after everyone had gone home that I was able to finish up and head for my new nightly ritual. Again he had been there before me, this time landing his load on the lip of the urinal. While some had slipped into the water, most of it remained on the edge. I scooped it up in my fingers and used it to slick my own boner, sliding my hand over my cockhead until I came, thinking about the man’s secret pleasure.
Every night for the next three days I found a fresh load waiting for me in the urinal. But even though I tried to keep an eye on who went in and out of the men’s room, my mystery man eluded me. There are a lot of men in my office, and it could have been any number of them. I immediately ruled out all of the blond men because of the color of the hair I’d found. This eliminated five guys, but there were still more than a dozen possibilities. I decided to try the direct approach. Whenever I noticed someone I thought was a likely candidate heading for the men’s room, I followed him, discreetly coming in after he was already pissing and trying to get a look at his equipment for the telltale reddish hair.
Throughout the day I observed firsthand the cocks of most of the department and was surprised at some of what I saw. Ed, an older man from accounting whose hairpiece was the focus of many a joke, sported a prick so large I couldn’t believe he kept it hidden beneath his cheap, ill-fitting suit. Even soft it was impressively sized, with a silky foreskin sliding over the fat helmet. In contrast, Jim in finance hardly measured up to the stories he told every morning about the latest woman he’d brought to unknown heights of ecstasy the night before. He had glanced at my cock and left quickly, zipping his tiny dick up and leaving me alone to gloat over my discovery.
Tangled Sheets Page 22
