by Gabi Moore
“It’s better when it’s first brewed,” he commented, as he washed his own mug, and set it back on the shelf to dry.
“I didn’t think it would be like this,” I confessed.
“It?” he replied.
“Seeing you. Seeing your place. You know. I just assumed, based on the type of person I thought you were last night, that it would be different.”
“Well you shouldn’t assume things. You don’t know me, really. Besides, what do I really know about myself?”
I paused for a moment, and stared at him.
“You serious?” I asked, taking another sip.
“All I’m trying to say is that each of us are alive, each and every day. It just really seems to me like the fact that I’m alive means that I have the ability to make choices and affect change in my daily experience. As soon as I tell myself that I have a certain type of identity, or even that I should be something more or less than what I am -- I’m essentially robbing myself of the ability to be something right now.”
I nodded, pausing a moment to absorb what he was saying, and apply it to the situation. “Basically, what you’re saying is that I can be anything, but in order to do that, I have to be aware that being is a process which is happening right now.”
“More or less,” he said, stretching his body upward toward the ceiling. “Only problem with that attitude is I don’t think you can force it. Being is something that you are whether you think about it or not. I think it might be useful for me to be more aware of that fact.”
“So, even right now, I don’t know who you are?” I asked, in confusion.
“Not really. You are interacting with me, and your interactions can inform the judgments that you make of my character. The problem is that even when you make those judgments, they may not be entirely accurate. They are probably accurate for that time, and people tend to demonstrate similar characteristics as they continue to exist; this is the basis for personality. However, if you’re turning me into a cartoon character, and you’re surprised that I’m not that cartoon character, I can’t really feel sorry for you.”
“You were a total asshole last night.”
“You were begging for it,” he snapped back, without a moment’s hesitation.
When he spoke, his eyes locked onto mine. I felt the urge to look away, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. Looking him in the eyes was actually difficult, but not because I was ashamed. I found it difficult to match eyes with him because he was intense, and I was intimidated by my own attraction to him.
“Thanks…” I said, taking a deep breath, and finally closing my eyes just to collect my thoughts.
I wanted to kiss him, but I felt like there were still things that we needed to clear up before I could take an action like that in good faith. Things were going well. I loved the authenticity of our experience in that moment. I really felt like the two of us were connecting; like we had let our pretenses fall, and were experiencing one another just as we were. The feeling was refreshing, to say the least.
“I was thinking about what happened last night,” I began. “I’ve never done anything like that before. Don’t people usually wear condoms?”
“They do. If you’re concerned about STDs, you shouldn’t worry about it. I test regularly, and if you’re interested in fucking again, I’d be glad to go to the clinic together with you, if it will give you peace of mind. Do you have anything I should be worried about?”
I shook my head, and looked up at him so he would know I was telling the truth. “That was the first time I had ever had sex with a man before. To be honest, my love life isn’t exactly prolific. I actually spend a lot of time alone.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Not at all. I’m trying to make myself more vulnerable to new experiences. Last night was definitely an example of diving into the deep end in order to learn how to swim, but I made it through alright.”
I paused. “Do you?” I asked.
“I try not to regret the things that I do, but I can think of a few things that I’d like to do differently.”
We went over everything. The conversation meandered quite a bit, but everything felt so natural that I hardly cared that we didn’t stick to one topic. We talked about Thomas, and about the drug experience. I told him about how strange I felt earlier that morning, and how disconnected and weird the night before was after I got home. I told him all about my experience on the rooftops, and he laughed when I showed him the scratch on my leg.
“You didn’t strike me as the athletic type,” he said, “but I guess that’s what I get for making assumptions about your character.”
He told me about how he had gotten into a fight, and how lucky he had been to get out of the club without being arrested.
“I guess we both got lucky last night,” I said.
“I know I did,” he replied, looking up at me and offering a smile.
It was just a matter of time before we touched each other. The sexual tension in the room was practically explosive. Every single hair on my body was standing at attention. My pupils had dilated; I know they must have because all of the colors in the room started to grow brighter. A flood of adrenaline coursed through my body, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to hold off any longer.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked.
I looked at him with curiosity in my eyes. There could be no question about the subtext present in his question. I knew exactly what he was talking about, but I couldn’t believe that he was inviting me to make the first move toward him. Once more, I was bumping up against my preconceived paradigm of our relationship.
I was the bottom. He was the top.
I was the passive receiver. He was the one who initiated the experience.
The magnetism that I had felt toward him when I first saw him increased. I felt drawn toward him, and I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and get lost inside a kiss. We hadn’t even really kissed the time before -- not like this anyway. I desperately wanted to know what it felt like, and I was practically licking my lips in anticipation.
“All it takes is a decision,” he said. “A decision and a commitment to carry that action through to the very end, whatever the consequence.”
I nodded. He was right. I knew what had to be done. Without a moment longer being wasted, I made the commitment.
Our bodies began to gravitate toward one another, and blood began rushing into my cheeks. My mind was a complete blank. I had been propelled into the anticipation of the moment. All I could think of was the way that his skin looked, and how much I wanted my mouth to be pressed up against his lips.
When his hands reached out to grab ahold of my waist, I remembered the power of his touch. The night before had happened. Whether or not he wanted to change a few things about how he chose to interact with me was up to him. My body wasn’t fooled into thinking that he wanted to be a more gentle lover, or that he was sorry for treating me the way that he did. I wanted him so badly that my asshole actually began to relax just thinking about his cock. I bit my lip and swallowed the saliva that was pooling in my mouth.
“Just being this close to you makes me feel like I want to feel you inside of my mouth,” I laughed, nervously.
The words sounded foreign to me. The strangeness had to do with the vocabulary chosen. In all reality, that was exactly what I wanted -- I think it’s just that sometimes when we want something, we don’t exactly give a voice to those desires. With my filters down, just about any stupid thing was bound to come out of my lips. I looked up at him, just to see if he was judging me, but it was too late.
Our lips met, and my instinct completely took over. All of the pretense of conversation went out the window, and it seemed to me like I had actually just been wasting my time by not kissing him like this in the first place. Passion is really the only word that I can use to describe our momentum. Once our bodies connected, there was no going back -- and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
***
Laying down on the couch, we began to pull on one another’s cocks through our pants. Soon, our shafts were out, and we were sharing each other’s cocks with one another with bare hands. Stoker lowered his shorts so I could have full access to his shaft. Seeing his cock in my hands while his testicles tightened beneath my grip was a beautiful experience. Having stoker’s hand on my cock made the whole experience that much better. I helped him take his pants off, and he spread his legs for me while I leaned over his dick and put him in my mouth. He was full, and the wetness of my own mouth made his cock even more enjoyable. I held him there for me, stroking his inner thigh while I eagerly worked my lips up and down the length of his cock.
Last time had been so different. This time, Stoker was much more passive. He allowed me to service him, and his hand gently rubbed against my shoulder and lower back while I worked his cock in my mouth. I didn’t have much experience in giving men head, but I managed just fine regardless. My lips and tongue bathed the head of his cock while my hand pumped up and down along the length of his cock in concert with my mouth.
I took my time, and felt no need to rush. There was something delicious about sharing myself with him. I thought about what the Reverend had said about love, and tried my hardest to offer my tongue as an expression of that love. Holding onto his testicles, while sucking hard on the head of his cock with my lips, I brought him into my mouth again and again. I was hard, and soon, Stoker had leaned over on the couch so he could suck me off while I serviced his dick.
His hand cupped my ass while I pulled at his cock. He seemed to be really enjoying himself, and the feeling of mutual eroticism really put me at ease. His fingers wrapped around my shaft, and he pulled on my cock with his lips. He was hungry for me, and I could tell by the way that he opened his mouth for me, and licked at the head of my cock with rapid, sharp movements of his tongue. He felt so warm on my skin. He didn’t neglect my balls either.
Bringing one testicle into his mouth, he pulled at my sack while shaking the shaft of my cock from side to side with his hand. I continued to pull at his cock with my own mouth, while indulging in the smoothness of his skin under my fingertips. Stoker was a generous lover, and all of the ego that had gotten in the way during our first fuck session at ‘Lectricland was now completely gone from our experience.
I paused for a moment, just to watch him. He worked my cock from the top, opening his lips just wide enough to take the head of my dick inside of his mouth. His jaw moved in a bouncing motion, and with each movement, a new wave of pleasure rose up in my body. I arched my hips toward his mouth and watched with an open mouth while my cock disappeared in his mouth. He took me to the hilt, while I stroked the back of his shortly cropped hair.
My cock was red with blood flow, and I felt incredible. He lifted my leg up then and began to lick at my anus. My leg was spread wide for him, and my cock was pushed down into the couch. With one finger, he massaged my perineum, while his tongue flicked at the entrance to my asshole. Our positions switched, and I bent over for him so he could get full access to what I had to offer.
While he may have been slow and hesitant in the beginning, he was slow and hesitant no longer. Stoker put a thumb up against my asshole and began to press into me. He licked an index finger, and slowly began to push himself into me while I watched him work. My cock was dangling beneath my legs and he didn’t neglect me there either.
I watched him stroke himself while he pulled my cock up and began to suck on it -- giving me head while my asshole was there for him. While his cock was wet, he beat the head of it on my testicles, and on my asshole. He wanted to give me a taste for what was to come, and I was more than ready for him to enter me.
With a hard cock and a hand gently placed on my thigh, he pushed himself into me, and we began to fuck. Once he was inside of me, he pulled on my hips and buried his cock into me from behind. Feeling his full length inside of me was incredible, but the feeling of having him move slightly in and out of me while he fucked me was a beautiful experience.
“Stoker…” I moaned, spreading my legs as wide as I could to accommodate his entry.
The feeling of separation between the two of us was no longer present. We were together once more, and the feeling felt absolutely divine. He reached his hand around my leg and began to massage my cock with his with his wet hand. What’s more is that while he was still fucking me, he pulled my shoulder to the side so I could kiss him. Our bodies were together, and our lips were connected. My asshole belonged to myself, as did my affection, but it was something we were able to share with each other. Hearing him moan while he kissed my neck and held onto my hips felt incredible.
He began to lose himself in passion. Pulling out, held tightly onto my shoulders while shooting his seed all over my back. The sprays of love from his cock were full and shot all the way up to my upper back. I gasped, loving every drop of sperm that bathed the top of my body. Knowing he was vulnerable in that moment, as I would be, I pulled him to my face and kissed him. I wanted him to know how much our affair meant to me.
I had thought about it, and for me, this wasn’t about a simple fuck. I wasn’t into this as a social experiment any longer, though it had started that way. Now that I knew that he cared about me more than seeing me as a sport fuck, I was encouraged. The one thing that pushed me forward more than anything else, was my own inner conviction.
“If you’re going to offer yourself to someone,” I told him, “You might as well do it completely. What’s the use in playing the game if you’re not going to go all in?”
His response was to kiss me all the more fiercely. His hands grabbed at the back of my head and my shoulders. I felt his fingernails claw into my skin. The claws weren’t out of cruelty this time, as they had been the night before. So much can change in the mindset of a relationship, when both parties are emotionally vulnerable. We could thank the drug for the destruction of our emotions, but the boldness and decision to push forward after the trouble -- that was a point of personal strength.
Holding him and tasting his lips, while feeling his fingers slide on the sperm left traced on my back was arousing for me. I can’t say it had to do strictly with sexual attraction in the strict lust sense of the word. More than anything else, I had to believe that the reason for my attraction was because of intimacy. I could tell on a visceral, sub-physical level that this man was authentically attracted to me. Our expression of love was passionate and true, even if we were in the midst of a budding relationship.
For a moment, I thought about the future. I thought about all of the things that could go wrong, and all of the mistakes that would be made. We might both be falling under the spell of the sensuous; this might be nothing more than a crush. With a breath, I dismissed those thoughts from my mind.
“Let’s just take this one day at a time,” I told him. “I want to get to know you, and I want us to enjoy ourselves.”
“If you want to get to know me, you’re going to have to be more active than that.”
“Why don’t you show me?”
He got down on his knees in front of me and began to hold my cock close to my abdomen. He kissed my testicles, and then began to suck me off once more. My penis grew hard quickly while he popped my tight sack in and out of his mouth. Feeling more in control than usual, I began to rub my ass and simply let him pleasure me. While his head bobbed up and down on my cock, he used his other hand to pull at the base of my penis, just beneath my testicles.
“Get on there,” I growled, grabbing his head and holding him to my abdomen.
I fucked the side of his mouth with short bursting thrusts. Part of me was really getting off on this dominance trip, and so I lowered his head in front of me so I could shove him on and off of my cock. He didn’t need my help to keep up the pace though, and happily continued to suck me off as though I had been pushing his head onto me, even when I removed my hands from the back of his head.
Still wanting more, I lowered him to the ground like a wrestle
r, and began to fuck his face. My legs were on either side of his head, and I pushed my cock into the roof of his mouth. Honestly, it wasn’t as comfortable as I was hoping, so I switched positions, coming at him instead from above his head.
In a bit of an acrobatic maneuver, which surprised me, he lifted himself up like a bridge, with either hand on my thighs so he could force my cock down his throat without my assistance. Sitting back and letting him do the work was a wonderful experience, so I decided to continue to let him perform all he wanted.
“You really love cock, don’t you?” I asked, laying backward onto the ground with my legs spread. “Why don’t you show me just how much you like sucking my cock?”
He didn’t respond with any words, only a renewed vigor for sucking me off. His kisses trailed up my chest until his ass was positioned just above my dick.
“I can do you one better,” he said with a grin.