by Mercy Walker
He’d stood, naked before me that evening, the look on his handsome face so fucking serious.
“Mr. Sherwood,” I gulped, stepping closer, step by step until I could feel the hot spray of water splashing off him and onto me.
“Call me Tom,” he said, staring intently into my eyes. Good god he had sexy gray eyes, the exact color of storm clouds. They were made all the better for the sexy little crinkles around them. He reached out and took me by the hand, and pulled me in under the hot spray of the shower with him.
My heart was a jackhammer in my chest, and I was breathing like I’d run a freaking marathon. But when he put my hand against his chest and just held it there, I stopped breathing all together. Just touching him was the most wonderful feeling I’d ever experienced—as if I’d been waiting to touch his flesh, the muscles of his powerful chest, my entire life.
And then he let my hand go, and placed his hand on my chest, right over my thudding heart. His thumb rubbed at my nipple, and just that touch stole the breath from my chest. I was suddenly dizzy and on fire, and I wanted to kiss him so fucking badly.
He stroked his hand over my peck for a few beats, and then smoothed his hand down my ribs, and then down the center of my stomach.
He looked at me expectantly, so I mirrored the movement of his hands over my body, my hand pressing and caressing the smooth, tan flesh of his chest, his flat, six pack stomach…and then as his hand slid down over my wet pubic hair, and then massaged my cock and balls. I gasped and fell forward against him. The feel of his body against mine, and his hand stroking my cock…it was fucking mind blowing. And it made my cock and balls tingle in a matter of four or five strokes.
“Mr. Sherwood,” I said breathlessly, groaning as my balls cinched up and my cock jerked in his strong, demanding grasp. “I-I…ohgod,ohgod…” and I shot my load on his thigh. It was a pretty big load, as I remember, and he chuckled goodheartedly. But he didn’t let go of my cock, and he didn’t push me off him. He just held me in one arm as he slowly jacked me off with the other hand, until every last ropey string of my orgasm squirted out of me.
I looked up at him—he was about four inches taller than me then, but now that he was standing in front of me at the back door of his house, I saw that he only had me by a little over an inch now.
Back then he’d stood there, and waited for me to get my legs back under me, and I watched as he let the hot spray of the shower clean my spunk from his thigh. That’s when it hit me—Tom hadn’t cum yet.
He was still hard as a fucking rock, but he wasn’t making any effort to get me to relieve him.
I reached out and took him in my hand again, and slowly started stroking his hardness up and down, until he reached his arm out again and pulled me back against him. I watched his cock turn red in my grasp, and felt his quickening pulse against my palm. His flat, muscular stomach moved in and out with his speeding breaths, and I could tell he was getting close.
I felt his lips against the side of my neck, and then the stubble of his five o’clock shadow against my cheek. But I kept my eyes on his throbbing, jerking prick, as I jacked and stroked the hefty shaft of him over and over.
He groaned “Fuuuuuck…” and I held my other hand out under the head of his twitching, wondrous cock. He came in hard, thick spurts in the palm of my hand. The sounds he made as I squeezed and stroked every drop of jizz out of him only made me hunger to do it again. I wanted to own this gorgeous, sexy man. And I wanted to own him forever.
I was contemplating licking some of that pearly, iridescent spunk from my hand, but just then Tom took hold of my face in both of his big, strong hands, and kissed me. The taste of him, the feel of his lips against mine, his tongue working delicately against my teeth, and then rubbing gently against my own…I was finished. I couldn’t think of anything but him—fuck, there wasn’t anything but him, and his mouth on mine, and his still huge but softening dick in my hand.
Tom made sure to scrub me down with his soap—which made his scent linger over every inch of me—before he grudgingly let go of me.
“We can never do this here again.”
“What? I-I…we have to…I’ve gotta be with you again!” My voice had sounded so desperate.
He took hold of the side of my head with his big hand, and then pulled me to him for a quick, though thorough kiss.
“We’ll be together plenty, Marcus.”—I loved the way he said my name—“Just not here, and not in public. Anyone could have walked in on us.”
I saw his point, and we never did anything like that again. But we did do everything two men could possible do together…
And now, staring into his soft, green eyes, I wanted to do them all over again.
I wanted to own him, and be owned by him…
He reached out and grasped the back of my neck in his big, paw of a hand, and pulled me to him. Our kiss was long and hard, and he pulled me into the kitchen with him.
The place was hot as hell, and if I hadn’t been soaked with pool water, I’d be soaked in sweat in mere moments. He shoved his hands down the back of my dripping wet swim trunks, grasping roughly at my ass. I felt one of his thick fingers graze over, and then push at the pucker of my asshole. I gasped into his mouth, and wrapped my arms around his neck.
Tom pulled me into the laundry room—I didn’t give a fuck where we did it, as long as he did me, and now.
He kicked the door closed and then pushed me ahead of him, making me stumble dizzily into a top loading washer with the Sears logo embossed in gold on it. My weight thunked against it, and it hurt. But before my brain could catch up with what was happening, Tom grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me again, tongue and teeth taking my breath away with a touch of pain and shitload of pleasure. And then, just as unexpectedly, he spun me around and shoved me face first against the hard, cold metal of the washing machine.
His hands ran over my shoulders and back, grasping the back of my neck with one hand as he stroked down my spine with the other. I felt him hard against my backside, even through my bathing suit and his khaki slacks.
“You’ve put on some muscle…and grown a few inches.” Tom said it appreciatively as his hands wandered over my hide, grasping and groping my grateful muscles, pinching my nipples, and then pulling at the flesh of my chest with nearly painful strength.
He yanked my swim trunks down around my ankles, and gave my tender ass a hard slap.
I gasped and raised my butt up to better receive another blow. Tom obliged. I knew he was an ass man. He’d licked and sucked and fingered and fucked my ass until I could barely walk straight over last Christmas break. And we’d only been together twice then.
Now we had the entire summer. God I was going to get one hell of a workout!
He let go of me, and I heard him as he pulled his clothes off, nearly ripping his shirt in his haste. I saw his shiny silver tie breeze past my head as I heard him pulling open his belt buckle, and unzipping his fly.
I reached out and grasped the tie in my hands. It was silk and expensive, and above all, tasteful. I’d come to associate ties like this with him. So much so I’d been tempted to seduce one of my mildly attractive professors because he owned a very nice collection of Burberry ties and oxford shirts.
A moment later I felt Tom’s naked body glide and press against my backside. He wrapped his strong, hulking arms around my torso as his cock ground against my ass, and then slid up the smooth, sensitive crack of me. Having him inside me, naked against me, was all I’d dreamt about all semester at school. No guy was his equal in my eyes. So thick and strong, every inch of him was carved out of sexy, sleek steel. And I wanted that steel inside me now.
“ Fuck, Marcus…I’ve missed you,” he growled into my neck. I felt his hips buck into me, and then he moved back, and I felt his hardness slide slick from precum…or maybe he’d slicked it up with some old fashioned spit. Then I felt the tapered yet still huge tip of him press up into me, pushing my tight little anus open with merciless efficiency.
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That’s when I pulled my hips forward—dislodging his jerking manhood from my bowels—and pushed him back away from me.
I turned and stared at him hard.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking rather comically uneasy—like I was about to give him a penalty on his sexual prowess. Guys could be such babies when it came to penis rejection.
“Dude,” I breathed with irritation. “You just tried to stick me bareback. I’m not your wife, and we’re not monogamous…so what the fuck?”
Tom looked down, seemingly ashamed. His feet even shuffled nervously as he held his hands modestly over his erection.
“I’m sorry. I just didn’t think…”
I rolled my eyes. I shouldn’t be so hard on him. He’d been my first sex partner, and in my youthful enthusiasm and ignorance, I’d let him fuck me without a condom. Often. Hell, I’d had more of his seed inside me than his wife had probably gotten in all twenty years of their marriage.
I had a quick, sick feeling as I thought of Lila Sherwood. Pretty, aging well and absolutely blind to her husband’s same sex proclivities. I wondered if he was as good fucking her as he was with me.
I shook thoughts of Tom’s wife from my head and stepped up to him, popping up on my toes to kiss his sweet, tense mouth.
“No, I’m sorry,” I told him soothingly, taking his cock in my hands and stroking him. He’d gone a little soft, and just my touch made him spring back to life. “I should’ve told you I’m only playing safe anymore. It’s no reflection on you, I just…”
Tom looked up from where my hands were kneading his manhood to steely hardness, and peered into my eyes. His gray eyes were so damned sad.
“You’ve been with other men.” It wasn’t a question, only him saying out loud what he’d just realized.
I nodded, and smiled. “Yeah…I’ve been with a few guys while I was away. That’s what college is for.”
He looked away, toward the door that led to the kitchen. I let go of his cock and pulled his gaze literally back to me, a hand on either side of his gorgeous mug.
“There’s been other guys. But you’re the only guy I want. You’re the only man I literally need…I need you so badly it freaking hurts.”
He looked into my eyes, like a big, faithful—fucking sexy as all hell—puppy dog. And I realized he hadn’t been with anyone else…not even his wife, since I’d gone back to college.
God…
So I said what I’d been thinking in my head since the first time we’d kissed in that shower at the YMCA.
“I love you.”
And fuck me if the same damn words didn’t fall from Tom’s lips at the same goddamn time.
We both laughed, and I laughed even harder at how his tremendous prick jerked with each chuckle. Good god he was so fucking beautiful. I bent over and fished a magnum condom out of the pocket of my swim trunks, and then kicked them off. I tore the foil package with my teeth, removing the latex sheath.
I took him, hard and pulsing, into my hands, and as I rolled the rubber slick and ridged over his hefty meat, Tom groaned like a man possessed.
Mine.
He was mine—he was married to someone else, but he was all mine.
I held my hand up to Tom’s mouth and told him to lick it. He did, holding on to my wrist, and sliding his rough, warm tongue over the skin of my palm. I smoothed his spit over his condom clad manhood. Then I spit on my own fingers, and judiciously reached behind me and slathered my saliva into my tingling anus.
Okay, I was ready, and so—obviously—was he.
So I turned around and assumed my prior position bent over his wife’s washing machine…
Jesus, quit thinking about her!
…and reached back to pull the orbs of my ass apart, baring my itching asshole to him.
He grasped my hands by the wrists and drew them up in front of me. Then he picked up his sexy silk tie and started twisting and tying it around my wrists. The whole time his condom clad prick dug into the crack of my ass, and I groaned in anticipation.
I’d never been tied up before…and it made things inside me twist and turn and burn…but it also made something even deeper turn cold. In a way, Tom was taking something away from me…
But in that same way, I was freely giving it to him by allowing him to bind my wrists with what was surely a knot he’d learned in boy scouts—I’d know what it was called, but my scouting days were long past me.
I felt the smooth tip of him against my hole, and then his hands gripped my shoulders, massaging them as he pulled me back onto him. Spit or condom lube or no, his mighty cock made me feel like a virgin again.
But I could handle that kind of pain now…hell, I wanted some pain with my sex now. And as he pushed farther and farther into me, I growled and groaned my appreciation. I also pushed my hips back against him, until his groin and hips pressed flush with my backside.
Tom leaned down and tentatively started to wrap his arms around me again…and then I felt him collapse against me, letting out the tension filled breath he’d been holding. I wriggled my hips and tightened my hole around his turgid prick—no easy feat, since he was stretching my shit chute to twice the gage it was accustomed to accommodating now. He moaned, his breath hot against the back of my neck. He licked that flesh, and then licked and kissed his way around to my ear, and playfully bit my earlobe.
I gasped and groaned with every push and pull of his cock in and out of my hole. He held me to his torso so tight it was a real effort to breathe.
“I missed you too,” I breathed as he slow fucked my tight, nineteen year old ass.
*****
Tom came inside the condom, up deep inside me…which seemed to make him happy. He then performed a perfectly executed reach around as his still iron hard cock churned my insides to mush. I shot my load—gasping and cursing like a sailor—into his palm. It was an effecting echo of how I’d first brought him to climax our first time together. I smiled and leaned back against him, nuzzling against his chest, my face against his thick, powerful neck. His cock twitched in my guts as I shot load after load onto his big palm.
I’d abstained for over a week before I came home. I wanted my reunion orgasm with Tom to be monumental.
I watched him as he raised his hand, dripping with my spunk, to his lips and licked up a big dollop of me into his mouth.
After my little condom speech, and the fact that I’d been promiscuous while away from him, I couldn’t help but find him licking my cum from his palm totally…romantic.
I pulled his handsome mug down to me and kissed him hard and deep, tasting myself on his lips.
*****
I cajoled Tom into skinny dipping with me, and we slipped out the back door of the house and eased ourselves into Tom’s pool. The water was heavenly. Inside the house, even though we’d enjoyed the fuck out of each other, had been a sweltering horror, and I’d sweated out most of my bodily fluids making the effort.
Our bodies found their way back together, and after some deep kissing and some rather ardent grinding together of your lower halves, Tom asked sheepishly if I had another condom. I chuckled and nodded yes. “But it’s in my trunks,” I said in explanation as I pulled away from him and climbed back out of the pool. I’d brought my trunks with me, and they were puddled by one of the lounge chairs scattered around the pool. I reached down and plucked the foil packet from them and stood back up, looking up at the upstairs windows of Tom’s house.
I knew that he and Lila’s bedroom faced the front of the house and Cherry Lane. But for the briefest of moments I could have sworn the pretty lace curtains that hung in the deceased Emily’s bedroom quivered.
I stared hard for a moment, but after a few beats I shook it off as simple paranoia.
I turned around and padded naked and wondrously hard again back to my beloved, naked Tom Sherwood.
End of No Safe Words Here Part 1
No Safe Words Part 2
Chapter Six
Natalie
> So I’m a virgin. So freaking what!
I know it’s not popular, or chic anymore—hasn’t been, really, since the Spanish Inquisition—but damn it to hell, I’m not just going to give my V to just anyone. And until recently I’d been planning on keeping it until well after college. I wanted it to be with someone I loved, and who loved me…someone I’d be with forever.
The word forever is like freaking crack to teenaged women…hell, women of any age go weak in the knees and lose major IQ points whenever they even think the damn word.
It should be erased from the English language. After all, it is a meaningless and fictional measure of time.
But then my parents—Mighty Jim Wilkes and his affable and rather vacant wife, Sharon—started fighting like two ravening pit bulls, bandying around the word “divorce,” and arguing about whether Natalie’s not-so-dumb jock brother was even Jim’s.
I knew without a doubt that big, dumb Jim was the only man Sharon Wilkes had ever been with. Believe me, when we had “The Talk,” I ended up answering more of her questions than getting my own answered.
Frequenting some free internet porn sites, and some rather educational safe sex web-pages, I’d garnered a nice bit of knowledge.
And whether they got along or not, or even agreed about it, Jim and Marcus had the same build, the same dimpled chin, and disgusting habit of wiping their noses with the backs of their hands.
Marcus looked more like their mother, who despite her rather anglicized name, was half Columbian. So the fact that my brother was tan, pretty in a shiny, useless kind of way, and shorter than their father, wasn’t a surprise to me.
What my father was really railing against was that his baby boy wasn’t hiding the fact that he was gay well enough to save their father face. Actually, Marcus had shown up home from school on the back of another guy’s Harley. And they’d actually kissed in front of the house.