by Manuel Tiger
My eyes widened at the sight.
His cock was quite thick and of a great length, blood veins marbling the delicate silken surface of it, the head glistening wetly.
He saw the look on my face and smiled which only made his face that much more beautiful.
“I take it you like what you see?” his voice was deeper, threaded with a growl.
“I do,” I whispered staring up at him.
“As do I,” he whispered. He leaned down, spreading my legs apart as his breath caressed the head of my cock in warmth as he dipped the tip of his tongue into the slit to lap up the slick essence that was spilling steadily. I groaned as his blazing blue eyes met mine and I watched as he rubbed his silken lips along the head before he captured it between them and began to draw me into the warm wetness of his mouth.
My body trembled as I watched inch by slow inch my cock slipped between his lips to be greeted by his tongue which glided down its length and stroked the underside of it as, with a deeper moan that sent vibrations coursing down the length of it, he buried his face into my crotch taking full claim.
I drew my legs up, pressing my feet into the bed as my head fell back onto the pillows, heat erupting and rushing through me as he began to bob his head slowly, to rise and fall in a steady rhythm that had me moaning louder.
My hands reached down to weave my fingers through his glossy black hair, to clutch at those raven locks as he worked me expertly with his mouth to produce one unending moan after another from me.
A harder pull of his mouth had me crying out.
“Fuck Daman!” I cried out, my back pressing into the bed as my hips came up. He slipped his hands under me, cupping my ass and lifted my hips, increasing the pulling motion of his mouth upon my cock. “Oh god!” I cried out breathlessly as he began working a finger into me, delving it inside as he followed it with another so that I was soon experiencing twin pleasures at the same time.
I was dizzy, on waves of warmth, time ceasing to have any meaning as he sucked and fingered me, his fingers delving deeper and deeper then pulling back to thrust forward again.
“D-Daman…” I moaned louder as he suddenly pulled off of my cock and withdrew his fingers. I protested the absence of his mouth, the withdrawing of his fingers from me with a whimper.
“Oh, I’m not done,” he breathed heavily, his face damp with sweat, cheeks red. “Nowhere near fucking done,” he growled as he leaned up like some god rising up between my legs.
He gripped my legs, pushing them toward my chest before turning and placing me on my stomach, spreading my legs, the action smoothly fluid. He grabbed my shirt, which now stuck wetly with sweat to my body, yanked it from my body and threw it down to the floor.
I laid there, panting and body aching for more of his attention and when that pause began to extend into what felt like infinity I felt the caress of his lips against the back of my leg.
My flesh became his canvas which he painted with warm breath and tongue. He traveled his lips up my leg then paused at my left thigh which he gripped in his hands and massaged before delivering a gentle bite that had me issuing out another whimper.
His hands then cupped my ass and spread the cheeks apart as I found myself jerking my head up, arching my back again as his tongue delved between then brushed against and teased my entrance. “Oh god yes,” I whispered as my head fell forward, my face buried into the pillow which absorbed my moans as he probed my entrance, working his tongue into me and all I knew in a matter of seconds was the slick hot wetness of his tongue drawing back and forth inside of me like his fingers had done.
My hands slipped under the pillows to grip the edge of the mattress, arching my ass up for him as he slipped a hand under me that moved over the flatness of my stomach, brushing his fingers along the dark line of hair beneath my naval till he was running his fingers through the curling hair around my cock and took hold of it within a viselike grip around the base.
As before, dual pleasures were given in the form of his thrusting tongue and fisted hand that pumped my cock slowly, sensually till I was moaning again, my body burning, on fire with need for more, with need for him.
As if sensing this he slowed the motions of both tongue and hand till I was squirming and pushing back, wanting him to not stop as I began to move my hips, to rock down and back.
Again came the absence of his mouth and tongue from me as his hand released my cock and I felt him climb up my body, kissing my back, my shoulder till his head was next to mine with his lips at my ear.
“Do you want me?” he asked in a voice as deep as the roll of thunder that now rumbled overhead, that shook the bedroom windows.
“God yes!” I whispered hoarsely.
“Then say it,” he said kissing my shoulder. “Say you want me, that you give me permission to have you, to make love to you, to fuck you.”
“Yes, I do,” I replied without hesitation, without doubt, without fear.
He nodded and I felt him shoving his slacks down and kicking them off as he sat back and pulled me up and back toward him, my back meeting his broad muscular chest as I groaned and he slipped his arm around me, lifting me up.
“Just breathe,” he whispered against my shoulder. I nodded and relaxed, feeling his hand slip between us and then I felt the press of that thick slick head of his cock between my ass and against my entrance as he began to push into me, to feel my entrance spreading around that thick head as I cried out, my back arching. “So fucking tight,” he growled, his voice rumbling in his throat as lightning illuminated the bedroom windows and the wind began to pick up, to howl with fury around the house, to sound like banshees unleashed, but this was pierced from my mind as he pierced me.
I could feel my passage trying to deny him any further entry, that ring of muscles working against him, but he was persistent and kept pushing till he breeched it and was sliding up into me slowly as he eased me down onto his cock.
“Oh fucking hell!” I moaned, the words coming out in a jumbled rush, my hands coming down to grip his legs that were spread to either side of me, to feel the flexing of muscles beneath my hands as he drove himself deeper and then paused. I began to wonder if he would continue or leave me hanging by a thread when he quickly drove himself all the way into me with a hard, body jarring thrust just as the storm outside unleashed itself on the world.
I cried out as he wrapped an arm around my waist and the other came up, his hand cupping my chin, tilting my head back, turning my face toward his as he kissed me passionately allowing me a moment to adjust to his full girth now buried inside of me.
I thought he had split me in two, the pain that radiated throughout my body making it seem such till I further relaxed around him, pressing my ass down into his crotch.
He began to thrust slowly up into me, little slow motions at first that gradually began to quicken. His name became a mantra that I moaned softly with each motion of his hips, each thrust of his cock. I pressed back against him feeling the rise and fall of his chest against my back.
“Daman,” I moaned as he brought his lips to the side of my neck, kissing the area and closed his mouth upon that section of flesh. I felt a quick piercing pain that had me crying out huskily, yet it was gone and over with just as quickly so that I wasn’t sure I had actually felt what I did. I was only aware that tendrils of warmth from that area of my neck had erupted, that warmth sweeping throughout me, making me experience pleasure like I never dreamed possible.
He began to thrust harder up into me now, sucking at the side of my neck for a moment longer before removing his mouth. I groaned and reached up burying my fingers into his hair and turning my head to capture his mouth and kiss him deeply, to breathe in the taste of him and let it fill my mouth, noticing a faint but fading coppery taste. “Daman,” I whispered against his lips as his next hard thrust robbed me of any further words, of thoughts themselves as we began to move as one, my head falling forward.
We fell into a rhythm; rising, falling, meeting and collidin
g as pleasure shot through me each time he buried himself fully into me, the head of his cock teasingly brushing against the bundle of nerves within that had me feeling as if electricity was shooting throughout my body.
“I want to see your face,” he panted after some time had passed, slowing his thrusting as he pulled me off and spun me around, resettling me back on his cock and firmly planting me on his crotch as I gasped and we fell back onto the bed that embraced us.
My legs wrapped around his waist, hiking them further up as he began to thrust harder and deeper into me. “You’re mine,” he whispered kissing me, his tongue once more dipping between my lips as my hands, my fingernails, scored his back and I tightened my passage around him keeping him buried and locked deeply inside of me.
The sounds of our bodies meeting, joining over and over and gasping breaths and groans filled the bedroom as we attempted to outdo the sounds of the storm that had unleashed itself on the world.
He slammed himself harder into me that I fucking believed he pierced my guts which had me crying out with a loud “Fuck!” as he himself let out a deep, body shaking groan and kept pressing forward, giving me every inch of him as I scissored my legs around his midsection, locking them tightly around him.
My body was washed in pleasure that kept building and building, that kept taking me higher and higher upon that wave of pleasure, nearing the apex of it.
“D-Daman…,” I gasped, my body beginning to tighten. “I’m c-close…I’m fucking close to cumming!”
His only response was to thrust harder and deeper into me that had me clutching at his back, feeling the muscles there flexing beneath my fingers as the bed frame squeaked and the springs of the mattress joined the chorus and together rose in volume.
He suddenly drew back and then slammed forward, the sound of his hips colliding with my ass echoing loudly in the room as the action drove him directly into that spot within that had me climaxing at once.
My legs and arms wrapped around him tightly as I rode out one climax after another as he followed after me, thrusting over and over till he cried out with a near roar, climaxing once, twice than followed by several more that blurred together.
I was only aware that it felt like liquid fire had been poured into me, filling me to overflowing while we crested that height of pleasure together, hovered the for a hint of infinity then came down, crashing back to earth in a tangled, sweaty heap.
I was breathing heavy, panting like I had just ran several damn miles. My hand departed from his back to wipe my face that was slick with sweat as he breathed loud and deep, his lips brushing the side of my neck as he eased his cock back from what had been the trigger for my release.
“Fuck,” I whispered softly. “Fuck…,” I said again as I relaxed my legs around his sweat slick body. I could hear both our hearts hammering in our chest, the blood pounding in my ears.
He lifted his head, raven locks plastered to his forehead as he looked down at me, smiling as he began to withdraw and I quickly clamped down around his cock, refusing him to pull out, surprising even myself by my reaction.
“Good response,” he whispered lowering his head closer as I laughed breathlessly. He kissed me, deepening it second by second as I wrapped my arms around him and felt him slip his arms around, holding me pressed to his body tightly.
And we remained like that for what felt like eternity.
We laid on the bed untangled afterwards, my head on his chest as he propped himself against the headboard running his fingers through my damp hair. We were in recovery mode though my body still hummed from his expert handling of it, fucking me like I had never experienced before which had left me not hurrying away, leaving in haste, but remaining.
Outside rain lashed the windows and thunder boomed every few seconds. But here in his bed I was safe from any storm, if only for this stolen moment.
“I must apologize if that was short,” he said. I blinked and lifted my head up and looked at him.
“You…you call that short?” I said with disbelief. “You fucked me for an hour!”
“I know, I’m sorry,” he said cupping my chin and tilted my head back further to kiss me softly. “I promise that next time? I’ll go longer. Just haven’t had sex in a while.”
I continued staring at him.
“In a week at least,” he said with a wink as I snorted and kissed him back.
“Let’s not bring up your past conquests, eh?” I said as I resettled my head back on his chest, my arm draped across his body, breathing in the scent of him. “Although I’m afraid it’s been much longer for me,” I said kissing his chest.
“Oh?”
“Long story,” I said. “Rather not ruin the moment.”
“Were they better than me?”
I laughed softly and rolled my body so that I was now propped up against and laying partially across his body.
“Really?”
“I like to know if the guy before me was adequate for I suspect he wasn’t.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Some of the sounds you made? I don’t think you have ever made before,” he said reaching out and pulling me closer so that our noses were nearly touching. “I like those sounds by the way. Tells me that I’m hitting it nice and good.”
“Oh you hit it nice and damn good,” I said with a grin.
“Then let me hit it again,” he growled turning so quickly I found myself on my back and him above me, spreading my legs that I already was wrapping around his waist. “Especially when you say fuck and your Boston accent comes out.”
“It does not!”
“It does.”
“Doesn’t!”
“Wish me to prove to you that it very much does?”
“Think you can last longer than an hour?” I teased.
“You will need to be carried out of this bed by the time we’re done.”
“Promises, promises,” I said as he kissed me and I felt his hand sliding under me, lifting and spreading me and we were once more as we were before, as one again.
Demons don’t always need a trigger to come creeping back on you.
Anything can trigger your fears and your shame easily, to put you back in that place you thought you left or back in the place you placed yourself one too many times in order to forget what made you afraid, what made you feel shame.
And waking up to find yourself in an empty bed? Tends to trigger the guilt and shame.
And that is how I woke that morning, to find myself alone in a bed that was so massively large and built of sturdy oak that it could probably hold a party of ten or more. But I had found myself waking up alone in so many beds before – nothing new there – and sometimes some jerk would leave a few twenties or a hundred on the bedside table, believing me a whore.
Dirty boy.
I sat up in the bed, the sheets falling away as reality settled in of what had occurred.
Pity sex. That was all it was I told myself as I drew back the blankets and climbed out to begin searching for my discarded clothes. I didn’t know where he was at. Maybe his disappearance from the bed was hint of the truth that was beginning to take shape.
He felt guilty for ruining my messenger bag, my phone and by what I’m sure he could piece together from what little I had said at the fountain the other day. He was a smart man. He would have figured it out.
Pity the broken boy, the boy who was mishandled and used by a hundred men and sought to make sex meaningful with strangers, to erase what had done only to add more fractures, more scars that were cleverly hidden by a smile and charm.
I pulled on my socks and then my slacks. I found my shirt partially beneath the bed and slipped it on, noticing a few buttons were missing. I slipped on my glasses and recalled where I left my shoes and hurried from the bedroom, stopping at the entrance where I turned around to take it all in, to stare at the bed.
He had not made me feel dirty. He hadn’t.
I did that just fine by myself.
I hurried back to the music room and found my shoes where I had left them, slipping them on. I just needed my jacket and recalled he had placed it on a stool in the kitchen. I hurried there, seeing the messenger bag residing on the island counter.
I left it.
I was halfway down the hallway when he came through the front door and I suddenly stopped. He was dressed in a tank top, shorts and running shoes. Sweat glistened on his face and soaked through his tank top.
He looked beautiful.
“Henry!” he greeted with the brightest smile I had ever seen. “Sorry, just went for my morning jog. Thought I let you sleep in for a bit.” He lifted a towel and began wiping at his face. “It’s already humid and looks like we will be having one hell of a storm coming in.”
I said nothing and hurried by him toward the front door.
“Henry?” he said as he reached out and caught my arm. I spun around and jerked my arm from his grip, stepping back. “What’s the matter? Did something happen while I was gone?”
“Look Daman,” I said adjusting my glasses, licking my lips and glancing at anywhere but at him. “Last night was great. The best I ever had in a long while. But let’s not kid ourselves that it was simply you giving me another gift to feel better, okay?”
“Giving you…” he frowned, stepping closer, reaching out for me as I took steps back.
“No,” I said. “I understand. It was pity sex. Not like I haven’t received that before, but it’s okay. Thank you for making me forget things for a while.”
“That wasn’t a pity fuck!” he said, that familiar growl in his voice. “I wanted to be with you! Not out of pity! Out of desire!”
“Don’t,” I said shaking my head. “You felt sorry for me, everyone does when they figure it out.”
“Figure it out? Figure what out?”
“I’m not the relationship type, Daman,” I whispered, my voice choked with emotions. “I’m only the type to be used, discarded. But thank you for the dinner last night. It was wonderful.”