Date: Wed, 18 Oct 2006 18:34:18 EDT
From: JockCeman@aol.com
Subject: Fuckbuds - 3   ((bisexual/relationships))

You  know the routine, I know, but this is explicit, graphic entertainment.
The  following erotica involves sexual situations between CONSENTING, ADULT
MALES.
Please  leave if you object to such material. Also, this is NOT intended for
minors; no  one under the age of 18/21. If you have not yet reached whatever "
legal age" is  in your part of the world, then please exit! OR you remain here
solely  responsible for the consequences of your actions.
Otherwise,  enjoy!


###30###


Having  "crawled" back inside My Man's hairy, cum-filled dugout, I
passionately stroked  my bat slowly in and out. No bitchy honey-dos or shallow million
dollar projects  mattered more than grand slammin' pleasures of my thick,
uncorked wood batting a  .1000, low balls penetrating the strike zones with
high-heatin', deep-seedin'  DNA.  Average THAT in your ERAs and  Play Ball!
I had fucked my share of  women before marriage -and actually while married,
prior to meeting and letting  myself go with this awesome man below me. BUT...
cummin' loads in his jock butt,  and then fuckin' him again -using mostly my
cream as sloppy seconds (and thirds  and fourths and...)- was so much hotter than
fucking some (female) pussy,  especially the one I married.  Not  to mention,
it made ME so much hornier, if THAT was possible! I mean when I  wanted to
fuck rough, unlike women, he was man enough to take it and man enough  to
usually want it that way.  Not  always, as we were both so ruggedly romantic and
sensual that slow, long-dickin'  and deep was as fulfilling as fast and forceful...
but more times than not, THAT  latter pace was VERY freeing of more than just
an impatient and necessary  jet-stream of spew.  Subsequent  fucks/sucks -- and
otherwise, cum explosions- through our sessions, the rhythms  became more at
ease, of course.  Seeing us together, and how stunning we looked next to each
other(even IN  our clothes), we "looked" like -- even without knowing our
sexual orientation, we  resembled (and related to) all forms of passionate,
open-minded, nasty, loud  horniness --  but especially the rapid fuck -n- fire, at
least through the first  round.

First rounds, fifth rounds...  Whatever the round, over those aforementioned
six long and lonely weeks, I  hadn't so much forgotten what those rounds felt
like so much as not allowing  myself to remember those extraordinary "meatings"
of our bods.  And our bods needed to bond.  Like oxygen, food and drinking
water,  our "sex" was in need of each other's sex.

THOSE meatings, of course,  were far more exciting (and erotic, of course)
than the (boring) meetings we had  to deal with the rest of the week -- nay,
though, necessary for our respective  careers. Or the lackluster -- and lacking- sex
at home and otherwise mundane  existence beyond HIM -and without him.  I came
to the conclusion  earlier on in that sexual, romantic sabbatical, as our days
apart became more  numerous, that it was JUST emotionally easier to (TRY) to
think about  something else, as much as I cared about him -- in and out of realm
of sex.

At that moment in time,  though, we were IN the realm -at least I was...
Literally!  I was going BALListic in sex and  lust.....AND LOVE... Oooooverload, again,
as I thought how fantastic this fuck  was...  I WAS in HIS realm of  fire.  And
HE was hot and wired up,  horny-wise. All lubed up with MY man-juice -- he was
juiced! With (sorta) relaxed  ass muscles, and nowhere to go, except for me to
seed and breed my need in his  furry, yummy cum-dump.  Even if he  wanted to
go someplace, I wouldn't have let him leave without fucking him.  So,
literally, he was  screwed!

Two things made it  special:  I was with MY Stud AND we  were so embraced in
the deepest and wettest of kisses while I slowly teased his  hole.  Nothing
mattered except our  tongues sword-fighting and mating almost at the same time
as his muscular arms  pulled me even closer and deeper into the kiss and into
totally fucking himself  on my dick.  I could feel powerful  breaches of his
fingernails into my upper delts; as if he was climbing a rocky  cliff and needed
a hole to grip. To a point, climbing towards orgasm in HIS hole  needed
strongholds, sometimes, and in that pursuit, we both involuntarily moaned
-sometimes in unison- from the intense pleasure of it all.

Talking intense?  The windows were probably steamed up by  that time.
More captivating  was he stopped clawing at my flesh and his heavy-duty hands
sensuously slid down  my soaked, thick lats into my lower back, sending
chills up my spine.  Voraciously, he manhandled both my steamy ass cheeks, roughly
squeezing,  perforating them apart and then oppressively grinding them down so
I'd skewer  him even more wildly.  It felt like  he was going to absorb and
swallow my throbbing, thick flesh through his anus.

I could just feel  the sweat dripping off my face, the sounds of sultry
bodies slapping together  echoing across that freshly-fucked-smelling hotel room.
The bed rockin' and rollin' only added  to the air of rugged, strong men
bonding and blending as one industrial-strength  sex machine.  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...

Talk about the feeling like a man and being One with One! Fuck!  Always for
us -- and I mean always, it  made for breathtaking headboard-bangin' ...
In a kiss for the  ages still raging, his brawny clutches were insatiably
ravaging himself on my  cock. So as if drilling for oil, I grounded and swirled
my hips, pile driving my  tool bit deeper as he forced his hips up to meet the
strengths on top,  pulverizing each other's hips, helped fuel by our solid
physical, virile  stoutness. Stamina and strongholds did rule at that point.
The sensation  overload, then, upgraded when he reached with a finger from
each hand to touch  the lips of my inner-darkness. Darkness, though, except to
him. My hungry  asshole wanting him as his sweaty fingers slid just  inside.
"Ooooooooh,  sheeeet, buddy, that feels fantastic," I blurted out, breaking
the kiss -if  nothing else but to come up for air, as I reared my head back
and closed my eyes  in enjoyment, which was an understatement. Like being in
another dimension, I  just allowed the feeling to take me as he pushed his thick
digits further into  my ready hole.  The lubrication was  definitely there,
partly from our sweating, and that's when the circular motion  with my pelvis
began to lay into his bowels even more, concentrating on his  prostate to the
point I wanted him to be in that same sexual, out-of-control  dimension of
unadulterated, hot blooded, near-release as he was making me.

And I  succeeded.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,  fuck!" He shouted, "You beautiful whore, spear me
with that hot thick dick!"  looking up at me with the most fierce glare that
meant business as he moaned so  seductively.   In a flash of an  eye, he quickly
pulled his hands up from my ass and clutched my head.  If I'd had hair to
grab onto, he would  have grabbed a handful.  Otherwise,  he pulled my head back
sharply and shot visual fire bullets into my baby blues,  pleading in a raspy
voice, "Fuck me!" He got more even demanding and louder.  "FUCK ME!!!
HARD!!!!  DAMNANT!!!"  His groaned  rattled the walls as he took a deep breath and
sternly commanded, "Fuckin' don't  hold back. Breed me, Babe!" as he clinched
my cock in the tightest vice HIS  man-pussy could.  Again, I thought  his
velvety ass walls were absorbing my cock.

It was my turn to  be verbal.

"Sonnnnnnnnnnnnfaaaa-bitch!"  My bass tones reverberated, almost out  of
breath. "Shit! Feeeeeeeeeeeeels sooooo fuckin'............... gawhhhhhd, maaaan."
In my deepest of thrusts, I  held tight to my pole vaulted solidly in his
hole. At that, he fingers were  quickly deep into my hairy ass, again, as I
arched back, eyes clutched  tight.

"RAPE  ME, JAKE! RAPE MY FUCKIN' ASS! I NEED IT! I NEED YOU!"

In  opening my eyes to THE most handsomest of drenched tanned faces, his head
back  on the pillow, his mouth opened, eyes closed in mind-blowing ecstasy, I
narrowed  my eyes into my "Eye of the Tiger" glare and didn't need to be
told twice on  matters such as this. So, without abandonment, I savagely complied
with his  command.

His  hands fell from my ass as I reared rapidly back, pulling out so only my
huge  dickhead was perched in his ass.  In  teasing unmercifully, I just
barely slid in and out, and did that for a number  of minutes while listened to him
purr in pleasure and watched his lean, chiseled  face appeal silently to me
in that moment for more filling of his void. Since  I'm not one to disappoint,
in one harsh, shocking movement, I rigorously pushed  his legs up to his head,
originally slamming his feet flat against the  headboard.  Then I bent his
respective knees so they paralleled either side of his ears.  I moved my wet
nose within an inch or  two of his to his nose, framed by his legs, and let -for
a few seconds, my sweat  drain off my face and forehead, and "mark" my
steaminess on him.  I guess like cum and piss, I was marking  my territory, so to
speak, with another body fluid.

"I  fuckin' own your ass, Stud!" hissing passionately through his thick,
densely-haired quads.  All he could  do was aggressively nodded in willing
agreement as he locked his knees back with  his sweaty palms. "Shit!  You are so
tight and strong!" I sorta moaned out those slurred words as I felt the
familiar  ball-busting cum even without thrusting much.   So I started to think of
baseball  stats to slow the process even more, but it was HARD, pun intended!
But THAT  didn't last long, and as his demeanor hadn't changed in getting set
to  intimately enjoy what he needed and wanted, and, otherwise, what just plain
needed to be done. So I thought, `fuck the stats.'

It's  FAWWWWKIN' TIME!  Again!  But who's counting?

By  then, I was so out of my mind in lust. HARD dickin' is what I gave him
with  relentless thrusting.  I mean no  mercy and, my Love, was Man enough to
take the attack.  At that point, I'm not sure if I knew  who I was -- this
sexual, brawny beast!, but really didn't care except to achieve  one goal.
Okay,  two!

I  lost track of time, as time is not kept track of when we're THAT intimate,
but I  must have fucked him for half an hour. Maybe 45 minutes.  I mean I let
him have both barrels.  Locked, cocked and loaded. This was not  cum and run,
and I was thankful I kept long workouts of quads/legs/squats on my  agenda.
He probably felt the same way, as there were at least a couple five  minute
sessions where his body would slip under me enough that -- and for more  exercise
(and change of pace)- I'd pushed up my weight on his quads, on my toes  and did
push up fuck- thrusts in his hole.  By the first time I did that, lubrication
was so plentiful that it was as  if my cock WAS a fat piston going smoothly
up and down in a well-oiled  machine.  It was so awesome to watch  and even
more hot to feel.  Beyond  words!  And as I did those, his eyes  never left mine
as he put his respective hand on my respective hand driving down  on his legs.
 I loved the trust in  that connection and all connecting "words" spoken
were in the form of grunts,  groans and moans.  THAT was all that  was needed.
But somewhere in all that  uncontrollable mental fog, I sensed him about to
cum.  Obviously, yearning for HIS still blue  balls to cum, too, my personal
sensors were continually jammed just keeping  myself on the edge without cumming
while having too much pleasure edging his  prostrate to that torturous
horniness.  Trouble  was, all good things must cum to an end.  From out of nowhere
my balls exploded sending through my missile... shots  and shots of pure,
overflowing baby-gravy. I may just cum in the last few hours,  but THAT kind of
release was long overdue.

Talk  about fantastic muscle contractions; the kind where you can actually
feel  through the veins, through your cock tube, the thick cream cumming. As he
felt  five, six, seven propulsions of hot seed into him, I could barely hear
him groan  over my verbal thunder. I think I was grunting more than anything,
as I buried  my face into the pillow beside his head to keep from waking up the
 neighbors(even more than we probably did).  Somewhere in trying to catch my
breath, my sex-fogged brain did register  enjoying the "Being" of being
totally sexually exhausted and beginning to feel  so much more calmer as his legs
released, relaxed, almost naturally surrounding  my mid-body in love. It was
one feeling I never wanted to end.

Funny how that  is... but I hadn't come down from  the sexual high -- and didn'
t think he had either, when the animal in him  completely took over.  He hadn'
t cum  and was boiling over.  He shifted  hard and quick into that "need"
stage of making up for not having it for so  long!  Even though in the restroom
he (sorta)saw (and felt) ME that way, it's been awhile since I've seen him
that  aggressively horny.

He, again, manhandled me up off his bod and  hurled my head downward into the
pillow I was just moaning and screaming into,  and didn't waste time bringing
my ass off the bed and up into the air towards  him.  He knew what he wanted,
and  wanted it NOW.  I thought he was  going to rim me, but instead stuck
three fingers all at once into my hole and  twisted a couple times in half
circles, catapulting me almost off the bed in  sheer sexual bliss.  Then, foregoing
any more foreplay, he rapidly replaced his fingers with a piece of him much
bigger, thicker and more fulfilling.  Without any fanfare or any more
lubrications than all our natural juices  having mingled into my sweaty hole, pure
seven by six man-stick of dynamite was  lit and explosively heading for blast off
in my very horny ass.   I mean fucking deep in no time... up  to his pubes
resting on my butt cheeks in two point five seconds, if it actually  took that
long!   Dark, thick  hairy pubes to dark, hairy ass crack and cheeks, and just
that feeling made me  so glad he kept his body naturally hairy, and in tact, and
didn't shave and/or  trim.  So beautiful, and felt on my  ass like hairy
heaven!

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, so fuckin' horny for you!" he bent down and
growled in my right ear.  In another few long, deep thrusts, his
glutton-for-sex-verbalness sounded lower as he reared up and took a hold of
my hips...and that's where the niceties ended. "NOW, bitch, your fuckin'
hot hole is ALL mine...  Feel THIS in your throat, fucker!!!"  With that he
sunk so solid and tough, it took my breath away and I think I passed out
for a split second. I gritted my teeth.  Don't know if my eyes were opened
or closed; it didn't matter. I force down my knees more into the bed, as he
just held his meat deep in me, feeling the sweat dripping down into my ass
making more lubrication.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,  yeeeeahhhhhhhhhhhhh...."

I love his moans,  as I felt him pull out a little and then rammed that rod
in all the way to that  very thick dick root, bouncing his big blistering balls
off my dimpled ass.  And it didn't matter how many times he'd  cum, those
balls are always huge and always ready to let loose of some luscious  man-milk.
Testosterone not only  smelled good on him but also was always flowing,
literally.

Like leverage  with his vice-like left hand on the back of my neck, he still
had my head  buried, forcing further into the pillow. I just had this fleeting
thought of (hoping,  after all these years) that I trusted him enough in his
sexual overdose  state-of-mind to not suffocate me, as it would be HIS loss --
of course.  Under that force I had to turn my head  as best I could just to get
some air as he railed my head into the pillow,  smashing it even more against
the rocking headboard.

It served, I  guess, two purposes of burying my face further down; it was now
a substitute as  a shock-absorbing muffler for both screams of pleasure and
pain.  And, number two, for him to stretch my  body out more towards the
headboard to be able to fuck me deeper.  I guess the headache was collateral
damage, ya might say.

Of course, his  right hand wasn't idle as he kept spanking my ass red to get
my ass-muscles to  open up even more.  It worked.  Besides, I think he liked
my ass cherry red.   He would have liked it cherry when  we first met, but that
wasn't meant to be.

His reaming was  now even more ferocious in my yearning shelter.  Talk about
an ass on fire, and a man on  a mission. Philosophically, like my outreached
arms, my man-cunt WAS his  shelter, but it was like he was on some power trip
of dominance -all of a  sudden, making His Bottom know his place, which was
bullshit in my case.  If he had been any other guy, I would  have reared up and
rearranged his face.  He would have been bleeding in the corner.

My masculinity  was definitely not in any jeopardy here, or he wouldn't be
here, as HE knew he'd  need stitches and an ambulance if it had been any other
fucker "using" me like  this. But, you see, I had fucked him to no-return and
he KNEW I needed HIS  fucking. He was THAT sensitive in that respect, but
animalistic in certain  others, but that is a good thing(mostly, usually!) I just
didn't have time to  enjoy the feast of his meat because all this was for him
to get off and get off  hard!  But after all these years, he  knew my
self-confidence didn't allow his usage of rugged roughness to make me  submissive or
feminine in any way.  Not literally his bitch, in any form, whatsoever. I was
not surrendering  anything to him except my unconditional love for him, even
though, later, Ima  gonna havta "learn" him some lessons about respecting thy
elders.
And it's not so  much surrendering so much as wanting to be vulnerable to
only him. He knew I  didn't want any other fucker but him. He was the ONLY man I
wanted fucking  me.  He was the only man that I  would allow this hard
lovemaking. The cool thing was, I knew the feelings were  mutual and I was intuitive
and sensitive enough to know that this total man  -always soaked with
testosterone, and man-enough to allow himself to BE  vulnerable with me (not only
emotionally, but sexually), was enough unspoken  permission for him to penetrate
MY dugout even deeper.  Besides, it wasn't like he was waiting  for permission.

Even if it was  painful, I loved the pain-to-pleasure from him. Call it love
or acceptance or  just fuckin' horniness of his raw penetration, any
discomfort I experienced was  short-lived.  It turned to pure  ecstasy as he was
hitting all the right buttons. So, to that, it was  "constriction time" for the
added effect of him seeing stars... AND the  moon!

He did!  But it was MY  moon!

"Hooooly,  shit!  You fuuuuuuuuckin' slut!!!!!  Uhhhhhhh, FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!"
I didn't bother  quieting him.  I was having too much  fun in every fiber of
my hormonal body and his hot, nasty verbalness only added  to that special
early morning round.  Besides, THAT was him... and me!  One of many things we had
in common.

"I AM YOUR slut,"  I whispered, as I could almost feel the veins on his
angry, tanned dick sliding  along my inner walls.  Like he had  on a ribbed
condom, which -in his fierce mauling- his sledge hammer would have  torn in pieces,
whacking and slamming me into sexual utopia. Without mercy, I  shoved my ass
back, forcing him like a fueled rocket into my ass.  I guess, really, he had
the rocket, and  he WAS fueled. And too that point, our raggedly heavy breathing
was hard enough  and noticeable that my thrust back on his throbbing flesh
was so commanding and  demanding that I could actually hear his breath catch in
his throat; as if he  had to gulp to breath.

Gulped, he did;  like choking on my cum. I liked it when I took his breath
away, as the song  goes, but he just held that rocket in my well-used missile
silo and didn't move,  almost slumping his hairy chest onto my smooth back to
catch his balance and  steady his masculinity.  Like I had  knocked him off his
feet, if he had been standing.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm..  you muthafucka!!!"  He blurted,  trying to recover, taking
another breath, and that's all it took for both of us  to score again.
"Hooooooooly,  fuckin' shit," I screamed. "I
am...............cummmmmin'.... A...... gainnnnnn...... You're......
fuckin' the cummmmmmmmm.... Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!  Thaaaaat feels
soooooooooo........."

With two beefy,  convulsing bodies cumming simultaneously, sweat squishing,
slouching everywhere,  the moaning and groaning was now at a raucous pitch.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!  Immmmmmmm... feeeeeeels so fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckin'
gooddddd.... " I felt him  propel his cock one last time for one last jet-stream
and contraction,  "Ooooohhhhhh, Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, you fuckin' StudMeat.  Take
that load, you sonfaaaaaa...  Immmmmmmm cummmmmmmminnnnn" and I was feeling a
little of his cock contract in  me.  But it was pretty much  short-lived as
partial exhaustion took over and all his weight dropped like a  on-coming
18-wheeler onto my back, crushing my chest and abs into my newly-made  lake of cum.

This bed was definitely going to need to be changed later by  Housekeeping.
Good thing  these walls and bed sheets can't talk.

As his neck buried into my neck, I could  gently feel him suck on my neck and
rubbing against my neck stubble, turning me  on STILL, as his heavy breathing
began to subside in my right ear and his  beating heart on my back.   We
knew, deep in our souls, how blessed we were to be there with each other, to
have that Gift of being to COMPLETELY pleasure each other.  THAT made the love
making even more  special, deeper, hotter... and orgasms extra explosive.

"I love you so,  so much, Jake," he whispered, composing his breathing
enough to make me stiff,  again, with his beautiful words. I know his sincere deep
tone of voice came  words of complete loving gratification, and not generated
by sexual  gratification.  Those are the  moments in time that separates the
males from the real men.  I WAS blessed!

"I  love YOU, Marcus!" sounding squished -but very loving, as I turned my
head as  best I could across the pillow into his waiting lips.  As we locked
lips again, it felt so good  and secure with him on top of me as his cock began
to finally soften and slide  out.  I didn't want the security  blanket to move,
so he didn't!  We  couldn't get our kissing as deep, but it was just the act
of being connected  with (about) every part of our bodies.  If it hadn't been
for the well-constructed musculature, I would have felt  like I was
suffocating, again, under his muscle mass of flesh; but, again, what  a way to go,
drowning in his sweaty flesh.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm... I may not  walk well for a couple days, but it was well
worth being bull-legged by a  man-bull with a couple of bull-balls.  In reality,
though, we both needed the release, no questions, and no  guilt.  I almost
think in the  context of our love, knowing him, it WAS needed; the rougher, the
better to get  rid of not only sexual tension, but also life's tensions.  Maybe
we really ought to add a punching  bag to his daily workouts to assist in
alleviating SOME of that tension.

All this was demonstrating  that it had been too long.  We could  NOT go long
periods without... without fuckin'... let alone not seeing each other...  and
being with each other intimately.  It hadn't been good for either of us,
emotionally or physically.  Too much built up on our prostates and  needing-to-release
blue balls. To be rational and levelheaded about this, there  are certain
urges that STILL need to be addressed, ya know?  Needs that only another man
could help  with. And they needed to have been addressed yesterday, if you get my
drift with  the way things work in the corporate world.  Cumming and deadlines
do have something  in common.  The latter, though --   more times than not,
will NOT have the fulfillment as the former, for numerous  of obvious reasons.
But, then,  wives/sexless mates and the corporate world have common ground,
too.

Five, maybe ten,  minutes of silence passed.  Neither  of us moved, enjoying
each other's body, including the wetness and aroma. All  that was audible was
(eventually) shallow -- more peaceful- breathing, which I was  thankful for, of
course.  HIS  breathing was music to my ears.

I thought Marc  was dozing -- or had fallen asleep, but his breathing never
really changed.  He must have been just refueling his  jets -- and that rocket, as
he reared up in one swift movement and pecked a  reassuring kiss just below my
buzzed hair and slid down to my wet hole.  As sweaty as I was -- as we both
were, it  wasn't hard(so to speak) to slide down the valley in the middle of my
broad  back.

I closed my eyes  in an afterglow haze. WOW!  Very  pleasant contentment,
smelling the aromas of man-sex, but he did help soothe  after that hard fuck: His
tongue lapping my ass lips, swirling around up and  down my great smellin'
man-crack, and then traveled inside my asshole. Probably  the most MASCULINE
experience you can have with  another guy.

Okay,  the second most...

Okay,  tied for second...

In that pure  pleasure, I raised up off the bed on all fours so he could
savor every drop of  our combined juices.  I could  already feel a stream leaking
down through my hair into my hot balls.  And it wasn't cooling them off,
either.

"MMMmmmmmm... " I  moaned, as my body began to shake with passion, pushing
back.  "Stud, I love when you seed  me..... but, just as mind-blowing......
uuuuuuuuhhhhhh... when.... oh, shit, that feels  so...  mmmmmmmmmmm...
ahhhhhh-yeahhhhhhh....

In response, he  just moaned real loud and long in my ass, which, of course,
vibrated the hell  out of still-raging lust. I reared my head back as my
glazed-over stare beckoned towards the ceiling like a convulsing bronco.  I WAS
-actually, as I rode his tongue  like a bronco into sexual horniness.  He ran
his wetness through the forest of hair straight up my crack and  lowly moaned.
"Oooooooooooooo,  hell," moaning another range of notes, balancing my right
hand on the bed as my  left hand found the back of his head and pushed him
forward into my butt.  At that point, at any point in time with  this stud, I
could NOT get enough of him!

"Geez, we do  taste good together! I love the way you smell and  taste. There
is just something about your ass, your whole hot body, that I want  to lick
and suck..."

He voice trailed  off -- as if he was about to say something else, and as I
looked over my shoulder  to make a comment, he abruptly stopped his slurping long
enough to manhandle me  over to my back again.  He rapidly  went back to
enjoying his very early breakfast of me and him, using that tongue  like a small
cock, thrusting it in and holding it there, massaging everything  inside it
could touch, including that certain prostrate button with his  finger.  I almost
think he enjoyed  felching as much as he did fucking, and he was an expert at
both.  Guess we had a lot of fun over the years  experiencing and
experimenting with each other.  It's been really fulfilling that we've  been able to find
someone secure and safe to learn with.  And then use that knowledge on each
other.

Because of having  a strong tongue, not to mention a little longer than most,
his feasting was NOT  short-lived as I propped my right hand under my head to
enjoy the show and the  far-reaching, far-ranging feeling of emotions that
were also generating my dick  hard.  As I started to caress his  buzz cut hair,
I lowered my hand to stroke my now-again aching cock and his  slapped my hand
away.

"THAT's mine and  my job," he barked jokingly, as he stopped long enough to
look up my bod into my  eyes. "You can do that when we're not together.  As
long as we're together sexually, you  know we only bring each other off and
that's MY cum in  you!"

"Stud, you should  know by now I don't jack off when we're NOT together," I
trailed off as my  slapped-away-hand was still fingering my furry belly
button. "Just so you know,  some of YOUR cum had been there long enough to grow
cobwebs."

From the top of  my hole, he didn't skip a beat but just looked up my bod
into my eyes without  commenting, and gave an evil smirk.  As I looked down
lovingly, without mercy, I gripped the back of his head  and pushed his face
further into my ass while I was enjoying my right pit, which  was making the air
smell ripe... and manly.  With his tongue inside me, he looked up, again,
admiringly over my  hardened, dripping dick, across my heaving chest into
my sultry blue eyes, then  over to my moist, sweaty pit.  As he  pushed his
right forefinger up my hole along side his tongue, his attacked of my
prostrate, again, and about brought my over the edge...  again.

"Ooooooooooooh,  you sluuuuuut," I screamed low as I could feel my eyes
rolled into back of my  head. "Plow into me with those fingers!!!"

At that, he  pushed his finger further into my saturated hole, lightly
licking, teasing and  torturing.  I heaved my chest, eyes  tightly shut
enjoying the finger fuck, my head involuntarily dug deeper into the  damp
pillow, my bod was on auto-pilot and had lost control a long time ago.
What a high I wish I could  bottle...

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,  shit, buddy. Griiiinnnnd those fuckin' fingers in."
He did. "Son-faaaa-bitch!  That feels soooooooooooo..." It's like I passed out
again, as I could only finish  that half sentence with non-understandable
tones.  His inner-ass finger massage was feeling  as good as being fucked.   He
was so far in me I thought he was going to fist me, which would have been a
first.  But it was two fingers and,  within a few seconds, three.

As he grounded and twisted, he raised his body upwards, licking my furry
sea of hair on my defined abs, lightly teasing my dense treasure trail to
my pecs. In wonderment to what he had on that sensual, sexual brain, I
slightly opened my eyes to the most beautiful billion-dollar smile a man
could ever have on a slushy face having soaked and played in my hairy,
cum-filled dugout.

###30###

Copyright 2006.  JockCeman. All Rights  Reserved.