"We've got all weekend. I think a butt plug would be fun to begin with.” He slipped his index finger between Greg's buttocks and tapped against his clenched hole. It fluttered, clenched, as if trying to trap the intruder. “Naughty boy.” Sammy chuckled. “Yes, a dildo sounds perfect.” He rolled into a sitting position, his back against the sofa. “Crawl into your bedroom. The box under the bed, pull it out and find the butt plug you like the most. Bring it here. You're to crawl, so you'll have to decide how to carry it."
"Yes, sir.” He went to his hands and knees and headed for the bedroom.
Although Sammy had just experienced a lovely climax, the vision of Greg's ass swaying as he crawled away had him twitching again. Lazily stroking himself, he sighed and thought, what a wonderful way to start the weekend.
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Chapter Three
Sammy was ready when Greg crawled back into the living room. Standing by the sofa, his cock twitched when he saw a large black butt plug sticking out of the man's mouth. The large round base he held in his mouth, gripped tightly so the eight inch long plastic toy didn't drop to the floor.
"Stop,” Sammy said, and was rewarded by the dark haired man's sudden halt about six feet from him. He was in the middle of the floor, on hands and knees, sweaty and horny, and Sammy was in heaven. “Spread your legs."
Greg groaned, but did as he was told, easing his knees sideways, opening himself.
Sammy walked around him, rubbing his cock, but without any urgency. Standing at Greg's rear, he said, “Are you lubed?"
"Yes, sir,” he mumbled around the base of the plug.
"Excellent.” He bent down and ran his hand up the inside of one of Greg's thighs. The man's cock was so hard it pressed up against his stomach. When Sammy wound his fingers around its base and slowly worked his hand down toward the glans, a droplet of pre-come oozed toward the floor. “Give me the plug.” He held out his free hand and an instant later the fat black plug lay across his palm.
It wasn't lubed, but he knew that if he took his time it wouldn't have to be. Kneeling behind Greg, he slid two fingers from the top of his crack down over his slightly puffy anal ring. The man had been playing. Chuckling, he ran his fingers around the soft, lube-slick puffiness. “Been messin’ with your ass, boy?"
After a long pause, Greg's replied, “Yes, sir,” in a soft voice.
"Naughty boy.” He smirked and continued circling the man's anus. It fluttered, clenched then pushed open. Sammy tapped at the center, and then slowly pushed a finger inside. Not far, just enough to push a little of the lube in. He eased in a second finger, scooting as much of the lube in as he could. Then he began stretching Greg's hole. The two fingers soon became three as the muscles lost their tension, softened, flexed when he worked his fingers deeper.
"Do you want it, boy?” he whispered in a soft husky voice. He continued gently thrusting his fingers in and out of the dark-haired man's widening hole.
In a strangled groan, Greg managed to say, “Yes, oh god, yes. Fuck me.” He pushed back, his ass meeting the palm of Sammy's hands with each forward thrust.
"That's it, open for me,” he murmured, feeling the inner tissue soften even more. Finally, he decided the hole was stretched enough and the lube was well spread where it needed to be. He grabbed the butt plug and rested its tip against Greg's anus, circled it, teased the man's heated flesh with the cool toy. Greg was gasping by then, and Sammy was sure that he'd have done pretty much anything to satisfy the hunger gnawing at him. “Push back. You do the work. I'll hold the plug."
That was all he had to say, all the instruction Greg seemed to need. He eased himself back, the dark, elongated, cone-shaped plug slowly entering him. The first three inches sank into his hole easily. When the fatter part stretched him wide, he slowed and began an easy thrusting dance that forced a little more in with each backward lunge. He groaned every second or third push, and dropped his shoulders to the floor after another inch or so had disappeared inside of him.
Sammy twisted the toy and reached under him. Grasping the man's cock, he masturbated him languidly, keeping pace with his thrusting.
Greg groaned again, louder, from somewhere deep inside. His thighs trembled, and Sammy watched him clench his fists.
The largest part of the plug popped in, and Greg's groan turned into a sigh as the rest of the black toy sank into him. It was as if the man's ass gulped it down, stopped only when the wide flange halted its descent. Sammy tapped the center of the flange and chuckled when Greg wriggled his hips. Hand still on his cock, Sammy deftly stroked him while his body grew accustomed to the anal intruder.
He watched him carefully, gauging. When he noticed Greg's ass clenching, and his hips twisting, he knew he could pull the plug partially out, stretching his rectum. The soft groan became a song, rising and waning as Sammy twisted and turned the plug. He pulled it toward himself, watching Greg's anus strain to accommodate the girth of the toy. He continued to torment his boy, his luscious man, until he heard sobbing.
He looked at the wall clock and realized he'd been teasing the poor man for hours. It was well past one in the morning. No wonder he was sobbing. If it was he being teased, he figured he'd be screaming blue murder or begging to come.
He tapped the base of the plug one more time, and smiled when Greg shuddered. “Time for bed.” The words got the reaction he'd hoped for. The muscles in Greg's ass tensed, his head spun around and he looked back at him, wide-eyed and his mouth agape.
Sammy slapped him on the ass, then climbed to his feet, the tube of lubricant in one hand. “Come on, boy,” he said cheerfully. Turning, he headed for Greg's bedroom. Behind him, he heard a soft groan followed by the sounds of knees and hands on the floor, crawling after him.
He put the lube away in the nightstand drawer, and climbed into Greg's huge king-sized bed. The soft navy blue sheets were cool against his skin, but they would warm quickly. He snuggled down, pulling the covers up to his waist, and waited.
A moment later, Greg entered. On his hands and knees, he crawled to the bed, then he clambered up onto it. He knelt, possibly unsure if he was to join Sammy or not.
Sammy held open his arms. “Come on, snuggle with me,” he urged the horny man.
"Yes, sir,” Greg replied, and scooted forward.
Sammy lifted the covers and pulled Greg close when he'd slid under them. Reaching back, he found the light switch and turned it off. His less than masculine chest pressed against Greg's firm pecs. Belly to belly, thighs wrapped around thighs, his softened cock pressed against Greg's throbbing, most likely aching, length. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Greg's, tonguing the slit between them, easing inside where he tasted hot breath and the subtle hint of coffee he must have drunk earlier. He slid his tongue over Greg's teeth, batted at his tongue with his own, urging him to respond. It didn't take long before their tongues entwined, thrust and parried, while they both gasped for breath. Warm moist air brushed against his face, exhalations of the man who lay against him.
When both were breathless, Sammy pulled his lips away, and looked deep into Greg's eyes. He saw passion; lust unfulfilled threatening to burst free. But he also saw something else: a haunted look that tormented him.
He knew Greg was still in mourning, but somehow he felt there was more to it than that. They were both exhausted. It was too late to get into a long discussion, so he pulled away, rolling Greg over. Spooning against the larger man's back, he reached around and gently stroked his chest, his stomach, wherever he could reach except his cock. “I know something's bothering you. I see it in your eyes.” He kissed Greg's back and pressed his face against the sweat damp skin. “I also know you're hornier than a two peckered owl, but tonight, you'll have to go without. I want to find out what's going on with you. Tomorrow, we talk."
For a long time there was silence. Sammy waited, patiently, the heat of their combined bodies warming his belly and thighs. Finally, Greg spoke. “Thank you, Sammy. You always seem to kno
w just the right thing to say and do.” His voice caught and Sammy felt him tense in his arms. A moment later, he heard a soft sobbing.
Pulling him even closer, he continued stroking him and kissing his back, trying to sooth away the pain that obviously tormented him. In time, the shuddering tears stopped, but Sammy kept on stroking him.
"Sleep now, boy.” He kissed him one more time at the nape of his neck and nuzzled against him, inhaling the male scent of him. Even though his voice didn't come out as firm and masculine as he sometimes wished it would, Greg's grunting assent made him smile.
Surprisingly, it didn't take long for Greg to relax against him. A few minutes longer and soft snores reached his ears. Then he let himself go. Moments later, he drifted to sleep.
* * * *
A shaft of sunlight streaming through the curtains shone on his eyelids, dragging him from sleep. One arm was still draped over Greg's body, the other he'd pushed under his pillow. Greg slept. His gentle snoring and the easy breathing told Sammy he was asleep.
Carefully, he slid his arm out from under the pillow and then wiggled away from the sleeping man. Flinging the covers aside, he climbed to his feet and headed for the bathroom, his morning erection leading the way. He stretched and yawned, then pushed his cock downward, aiming it at the rim of the bowl, waiting for the flow to begin. He softened, and pissed.
Flushing, he went to the shower and turned on the taps. He thought of Greg's eyes last night and how haunted they'd seemed. He thought he knew what the problem was, but wanted to hear it in the man's own words.
Water temperature right, he climbed in and pulled the curtain closed. He scrubbed and remembered their evening of play, and got horny thinking about it. Greg hadn't come. He'd be desperate soon. Poor boy, Sammy thought, and smiled. His own cock firmed up in his hand, rising to its full length. He massaged it, but let go long before an orgasm grew near. He wanted to get back to Greg. Rinsing off, he pulled back the curtain and grabbed for a towel. He scrubbed at his hair, spiked it, then dragged the soft towel over himself quickly. Tossing the damp towel in the hamper, he quickly brushed his teeth and headed back into the bedroom. Glancing at the bedside clock, he was shocked to see that it was nearly noon.
Greg still lay sleeping. As Sammy climbed into the bed behind him, he stirred and groaned. Sensing his lover's imminent awakening, Sammy eased himself closer, his belly to Greg's back, and wrapped his arms around the man.
"Good morning, sleepy head,” he whispered into Greg's ear.
Greg twisted in his arms, facing him, and slid his arms around him. “Good morning, Sammy.” He leaned in and their lips touched, softly, tentatively, as if sharing a first kiss. Rough, unshaven chins rubbed against each other as the kiss deepened. Tongues batted at each other, fought, and danced, heads turned, breathing deepened, until Sammy slid his fingers through Greg's thick mane of hair and pulled him back. He gazed into the man's eyes, seeing that same look, that pain that never seemed to leave the man.
Greg squirmed. “Hey, I better go pee before I wet the bed."
Sammy laughed, and said, “Maybe I'll just hang on and we'll try wet sex."
Greg blinked, surprised, but then was released. He darted out of the bed and into the bathroom. It wasn't long before he heard the hard flow of him pissing. It seemed to take a very long time for him to finish. Water ran in the sink, the sound of him brushing his teeth and then splashing water, presumably on his face. Then he was on his way back, his erection again in full bloom and leading the way.
"Nice,” said Sammy, nodding at the hard length of flesh pointing his way.
Greg waggled his hips, sending his cock swaying, slapping against his thighs. “It's from last night. You do remember leaving me high and dry, right?"
Sammy held the bedclothes up, offering a place for Greg to join him. “Li'l ole’ me?” he feigned innocence.
Greg laughed. Sliding under the covers, he pulled Sammy close and whispered, “Yes you, my lord, and flaming gay master."
"Flaming gay,” he cried in mock outrage, his wrist held limply, his eyes wide in shock. It was too much, and he broke out laughing. “All right, I'm just a tad flamboyant. But,” he let his voice rise to a more feminine lilt, “you have to admit, I do look good in purple and pink.” Batting his eyes, he pushed the covers back and ran his free hand over Greg's backside.
"Yeah, you look good in it, and aren't afraid to let everyone know you're gay.” He pushed his hard on into Sammy's belly, perhaps hoping he'd find some kind of relief soon.
Sammy grabbed hold of Greg's cock, roughly stroking its length. The dark-haired man groaned and eagerly thrust into his fist. His shaft pulsed, and within moments pre-come oozed over Sammy's hand, providing lube for his teasing masturbation. He quickened the stroke, feeling the man's ass tense. When the cock swelled in his fist, he slowed his pace, and barely moved the tight skin covering his cock.
Greg moaned, and then he growled. He flexed his hips, pushing his cock all the way through the ring Sammy had formed with his fingers. Warm tight balls pressed against his hand, the crinkled skin hot. “Please, let me come.” His voice was desperate.
"Beg me,” Sammy tightened his hold, stopping him from any further stimulation.
"Sir,” Greg cried, urgently, “please, I beg you, let me come."
"But, I wanted to talk."
"Sir, please, sir. We will. I promise. Whatever you want. Please, Sir. Let me come now.” His hips moved, whether consciously or automatically, didn't matter.
"Be still.” Sammy hardened his voice and tightened his hand as much as he could.
Greg froze, but couldn't seem to stop the soft keening sound coming from deep inside.
"Good boy,” Sammy's voice took on that special tone to show Greg he meant business. “Ask me nicely."
Greg took a deep shuddering breath and looked into his eyes. “Please, sir, let me come for you. I'm desperate to come, if you allow me to. Please."
Sammy smiled and resumed stroking him, lightly, delicately, then more urgently. Relentlessly, he took the man closer to orgasm. Greg struggled against his hand, trying to wait for his permission. Finally, when the cock he held pulsed and swelled, he said, “Come, now."
Commanded, released, the man lunged forward, sending a long spume of white come flying. The first landed on his chest, the second beside it. After that, the pulses diminished, sending the gobs onto his stomach and then simply oozing from the slit. Sammy urged the last of his orgasm from him, milking him as he lay gasping and twitching.
"Good boy,” he said, and leaned forward to slide his tongue through a large pool of come. “Mm, nice.” He released his cock and licked the back of his hand, savoring the thick spunk coating his knuckles. “Go shower now, and then we talk."
Greg blinked, and nodded. He took a few moments to regain his breath, removed the plug, and then headed for the bathroom.
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Chapter Four
By the time Greg came out of the shower, Sammy was dressed in a pair of brilliant white slacks that hugged his ass very tightly, and a pink satin shirt. A pair of leather sandals completed his outfit. All he had to do then was wash his hands, and he'd be ready for the day ahead.
"Get yourself dressed, baby. We'll do brunch on the beach.” He sashayed past Greg into the bathroom, where he quickly washed and checked his hair. Spiked, the blonde tips almost white in the glare of the sun, he was satisfied.
Greg joined him, his own attire much more traditional; jeans, a white t-shirt and socks. “Move over.” He nudged Sammy with a swing of his hips and took his place on one side of the vanity. He grabbed his shave cream and squirted some into the palm of his hand, looked at Sammy and squirted a little more. He smiled and faced him, then scooped a little of the foam up with his fingertips. Gently, he worked the foam into Sammy's ‘beard'. He didn't have much of one, so it didn't take long. Then he used the rest on his own more bristly face. Passing over a disposable razor, he took one for himself, and both men quic
kly scraped the hair off their faces. Sammy was done first, and had rinsed off before Greg was done.
Drying himself, he watched his lover carefully, and realized how much he wanted to spend more time with him, a lot more. The play of muscles along his back, the soft whispering ‘brr’ of the blade scraping over the man's face, it all felt so real, so right, he wanted it to last.
Greg rinsed his face and reached for the towel he still held. Sammy tightened his grip, just for a second or so, and then released it. “The Foreshore sound all right?” he asked, remembering how they'd liked the food there that last time they'd visited. The owner was one of Cyn's customers too, and that wouldn't hurt.
"Yeah, sounds perfect.” Greg folded the towel and hung it over the rack.
Each grabbed their wallets and Greg his shoes as they headed out the door. Greg locked the door, and Sammy reached for his hand.
They walked in silence to the Foreshore, which was only about a mile away. The sun warmed them; the air was thick with the smell of spring flowers and the ocean only a couple of blocks away. Sammy was deep in thought, wondering how he'd get Greg to open up. He knew the man felt guilty about his wife's death, no matter what he or the doctors told him. She'd lived longer than they'd given her, and it was her time. No amount of drugs or radiation could have helped. He'd just have to get Greg to understand that. The Foreshore came into view, its rustic brick exterior blended into the background of evergreen trees, large ornamental shrubs and to the left, the brilliant blue of the ocean. Still hand in hand, the approached the dark oak entrance way doors.
* * * *
Once they'd been seated, and both ordered coffee and omelets, Sammy reached across the table for Greg's hands again. “Okay, I said we'd talk today, we might as well do it now. Or at least get started.” He kept his voice low, his face calm, and hoped Greg wouldn't balk.
He didn't say anything for the longest time, simply sat looking at the ocean through the enormous picture window. That dreadful haunted look darkened his handsome face. Suddenly, just as he was about to say something else to nudge him, Greg said, “I miss her so much, Sammy!” He turned and looked directly into his eyes. “It's not fair. We had so many plans. Kids...” His eyes lost their focus and Sammy was sure his thoughts drifted to the children that would never be, and the love he missed.
Phaze Fantasies, Vol. VI Page 17