“Explain this, please,” I managed to croak out, hard as a rock since his foot touched mine, but harder now with what he was doing.
“We were sent to the American schools, went to the Catholic churches, and dressed the way we were told to dress. But back in the villages, it was never Jesus or Mary we called upon when we needed something.”
“You’re not Christian, then?”
“Only on Sundays and Christmas,” he responded with a smile.
“Thank God it’s a Saturday, then.”
We didn’t stay for desert. For that, we decided to go back to my hostel, since he stays with his sister whenever he’s here for either business or leisure.
If I were to choose only one word to describe him it would be: beautiful. I was right: he pumped iron. Standing six feet tall and absolutely thick with muscles, his cock was equally huge, so engorged with blood it stood up against his belly unaided.
He was almost completely hairless, standing before me naked. Even his pubic hair was virtually non-existent, thinly hugging his groin in a nearly perfect upside down triangle, almost like a woman’s (not that I’m speaking from personal experience, mind you). I was suddenly nervous. It was that big!
I wanted to suck him off, but he wouldn’t have any of it. Wordlessly, he gestured me to take off my clothes, smiling slightly when I complied as quickly as I could. He still looked dangerous though, which excited me even more.
Despite the roughness by which he kissed me earlier, he lay himself atop me very gently, raising my arms above me while pinning my wrists down with one hand. With the other, he cupped the back of my head, and as I parted my lips to meet his, his tongue (equally big) started fucking my mouth. I moaned at the pleasure of it, choking only slightly when his tip touched my glottis.
I reveled at the feel of his solidity, his weight above me. I felt like a child, pinned down by a mountain. I wrapped my legs around his waist, wanting more, which he seemed to read. He pulled away from my mouth, and began his way down to my neck, biting me gently before making his way to my nipples. I struggled, wanting to wrap my arms around him as well, but he gave out a growl, and bit me harder, getting a yelp out of me.
Chuckling, he made his way to my stomach, forcing him to let go of my wrists. By the time he took my hard-on in his mouth, I was so ready to explode. The feel of his hot, wet mouth around my dick was too much, and as I said, it had been far too long since another man had touched me. The delicious sucking, tugging, licking sensations stripped me of my humanity, and I was just another animal in rut.
He seemed to get it, however (my, but how well he gets me), releasing me before plunging his tongue to my balls, lifting my legs up so he could get to my ass crack. As I looked down, I saw a line of pre-cum stretching between my cock’s tip to my belly, moaning further as his tongue began fucking my ass.
It could have just been my delirium, but I swear his tongue was thicker and longer than some cocks that had been there before. I do not recall at what point my sphincter muscles relaxed, nor at what point the delicious violation of my ass had stopped. All I remember was him pulling away, and myself groaning in protest.
This was quickly replaced by a gasp as my eyes popped open, as I felt something thicker, harder, and more unyielding entering me. I looked up to find his face above me, looking down the length of his hard, muscled body at the cock whose tip he had managed to get past my hot, wet opening.
I could not see this joining, of course, but I could feel it, and I could see the rest of his incredibly thick length as it joined with his groin. The discomfort was mild, surprisingly, considering the girth of his rod, darker than the light mocha of the rest of his skin, making it look even bigger than it felt.
He looked up to meet my eyes, and I nodded. Slowly, he pushed himself further in me, pulling out slightly before pushing himself in deeper. His tool was thinner at the tip, and by the time the thickest part of him reached me, I arched back in some pain.
He stopped instantly, but didn’t pull out this time. Instead, he began undulating, making circular motions with his hip, widening my opening slowly, allowing me to adjust to the delicious violation.
He must have felt me relax some more, because he slowly pushed in deeper. There was some pain, but it was mild. I had adjusted more. He began to pull out again before slowly making his way back in, and with each thrust forward, I relaxed even further.
After a few more thrusts, the pain had become a dull ache, replaced with a tightness. Before long, even that was gone, and I began to feel my cock start to get harder, and the pleasure began.
The familiar just-one-more-and-I’ll-come feeling had begun, and I started pushing against him, wanting him to go in deeper, harder. Again, he read me correctly, and began to pump into me harder, faster, and deeper, till his groin found itself slapping against my ass cheeks, shaking my whole body with his pummeling.
His face had taken on its familiar angry look again, and he looked forbidding once more. His hair was a disheveled mess, and his neck, chest, and arms had become slick and shiny with sweat.
I pulled at his arms, wanting to lie above me, so he leaned forward, but rested his weight on his arms, mere inches above my own body. I wrapped my legs around his waist, wanting to pull him in me deeper yet, but he was so massive, so strong, it had no effect.
When his mouth met mine again, I could not maintain contact with his lips. I was about to cum.
I pulled away, gasping and moaning, grabbing at his shoulders. He seemed to understand what was happening and began fucking me harder, more brutally, putting more of his weight on top of me, rubbing my cock between his stomach and mine.
It was the last straw.
I came, but he wasn’t through. His ramrod pummeling into me, his sweaty stomach grinding my cock against my own stomach…if the Duracell bunny could give you an orgasm, this was it.
I passed out.
* * *
I have another two weeks left in this city while Jason has another three. We’re trying not to think about what will happen when we leave, when we return to our lives back in England in two separate cities.
For now, we have each other, and will face whatever happens when it does. For now, that is enough.
Oh, and the spines I saw in Maharlika the day we first met? Jason said they came from cows. He said he’ll have one sacrificed to ensure the local gods favor us both before I leave. He’s joking of course.
I think.
I’m kind of hoping not, however, perverse though that may sound.
About Bernadette Russo
Bernadette Russo loves filling her steaming hot erotic stories with details of the exotic locales in which her characters consummate their passions, details she can describe because her work experience has brought her from the U.K. to mainland Europe, to Asia. Along the way she's met many friendly (and sexy) natives and has gotten close to the international and gay community, which help inspire her sensual stories.
Bernadette has a Bachelors in Communications Research and has worked in sales and management, but we have a hunch her readers are more interested in her work with Steam Books, and we can't blame them!
And more from Bernadette Russo:
THE LABYRINTH
In a decadent society, two men are brought into slavery: Ari joins the lower caste in the elaborate Labyrinth, while Thes, whose blonde hair and pale skin make him an exotic commodity, is a personal servant to the vile emporer. The two men are destined to be together, but how can they ever meet in such an immoral civilization of sin, prejudice and greed?
AFTER THE CRASH
Caught in an auto accident, Dennis has to be admitted to the hospital where David holds office for treatment. The two bump into each other at a bar a few days later, and hit it off. David’s ex-boyfriend shows up, however, and still wants him back.
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BONUS
Please enjoy a tease from another hot title,
DESTINED IN THE DARK
by Melody Lewis
Gabe took a deep breath, his fingers ghosting over the dagger concealed beneath the layers of brocade to steel his determination.
It had seemed like an excellent and simple enough plan at the time – he would work his way into the brothel, dress up as a prostitute and kill the Count of Ravenwood. He had managed to accomplish the first two steps, too, which was why he was now waiting inside a shabby, poorly lit room, wearing an old gown he had seen lying at the backroom of a seamstress’ shop, a wig of auburn curls he had borrowed from an acquaintance working as a hairdresser’s assistant and some cheap perfume. Still, he could not help but suddenly wonder if he had been so foolish, after all, nor could he resist the impelling sense of doom creep up his spine as he heard the thud of Hessian boots approaching in the hallway, a lump forming in this throat as they stopped right in front of the door.
There was no going back now. As reckless as his plan was, he no longer had any choice but to carry it out. The deed simply had to be done.
Gabe swallowed as the door opened and did his best to conjure a seductive smile, hoping that the light of the flickering lamp would make his masculine features less distinct so that his charade would not be exposed prematurely. He had received remarks in the past, after all, that his features were feminine, gentle and beautiful rather than sharp and handsome. He had despised such remarks then, but hoped now, for the sake of saving his own skin, that they had been spoken in truth.
Fortune seemed to be on his side, since the Count did not suspect anything. He simply threw his coat on the table by the door then sat on the only chair in the room so he could remove his boots.
“I was told you are new here,” the Count spoke, his statement more of an inquiry.
“You were correctly informed, my lord,” Gabe answered, striving to keep his voice a few pitches higher than usual and just above a whisper.
“The way you speak denotes that you have had an education,” the Count remarked.
“I have had a fair amount of schooling, yes,” Gabe immediately conjured the reply, not having contemplated an explanation beforehand. “I had hoped to be a governess, but have not had any luck.”
“I see.” The Count, now having discarded his boots, approached the bed, and as his face came into the light, Gabe stilled. He had never seen the Count up close before, only from a considerable distance, and while he had heard talk that the Count possessed looks that could make any man envious – no doubt, that was why his sister had been besotted with him – he had never paid them any heed. He could not deny them any longer, though, as he gazed into a pair of piercing onyx eyes, eyes that gleamed with intelligence and a hint of hardness, set atop well-chiseled cheekbones and a sharp nose. His lips were just the right thickness, framed by a proud, slightly rounded chin and a strong jaw while his hair, the hue of which matched the black depths of his eyes, hung neatly just above his broad shoulders. The combination of it all was enough to render him speechless.
The Count did not miss the reaction. Grinning smugly, he stepped even closer, tracing Gabe’s jaw and relishing the shiver that ensued because of it before lifting his chin. “It seems you have not had many men before. Or have you had any at all?”
“Just…one, my lord,” Gabe managed to answer, although it was difficult to think now that the Count’s handsome face was just mere inches from his.
“I imagine you’ll find my skills far superior,” the Count said confidently, and with that, he pressed his lips forward, capturing Gabe’s.
To be continued....
Mountain Man Lovin'--Gay M/M Interracial White/Asian Erotica from Steam Books Page 2