Date: Wed, 9 Jul 2003 01:48:05 EDT
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: All A Man Wants

			      ALL A MAN WANTS
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     I stopped with my knuckles poised to knock on Jorge's door. He and
Aleyda were at it again.
     "What do you want?" Aleyda was screaming, partly in anger and partly
to be heard over the cries of their youngest child. "What do you want out
of me?"
     "What do I want?" Jorge yelled back. "I want a wife, God damn it!"
     "Well what do you think a wife is? I married you, we have three
children, I work full-time and keep the house...."
     "Not very damned well, you don't!" Jorge riposted. "Just look at this
place! And it stinks in here!"
     "It's the children, they make messes. And Manuel is still in diapers,
and I can't wash them all the time. What do you expect out of children,
anyway?"
     "Nothing. But I expect you to make an effort to clean it up."
     "When? When am I going to clean the house? It takes all I can do to
work and come home and cook and clean up the children and help them with
their homework."
     "So let's hire a maid. Or you could work less hours. Or you could
quit...."
     "Not that again!" Aleyda was screaming out of anger alone now, her
child had quieted, probably in the arms of one of Aleyda's sisters or their
oldest child. "You know it takes all you and I can make just to keep this
house."
     "Yeah, well...." Jorge said.
     "And another thing...."
     I rapped quickly; Aleyda was about to change to another of their
favorite screamfest topics; it was as much of a lull as I would get in any
reasonable amount of time. Jorge and Aleyda fought a lot. It couldn't be
good for them or their children; I wondered how much longer it would go on
before they broke up.
     Jorge answered the door, dressed in a red-and-yellow plaid shirt and
worn-out blue jeans, his hair neatly combed and his mustache as neatly
trimmed as ever. He ran his hand in baffled vexation through his black,
smoothly-shining hair (he didn't muss it any, he kept it combed straight
back) and managed a smile. It fit easily on his long, rounded, well-formed
face. "Hey, Miguel, come on in." His body wasn't very muscled, but it fit
him; just a well-formed, compact body that could have been born from a
sculptor's fingers rather than by being born. Well-proportioned, that's the
best word I can think of to describe Jorge, everything about him was the
right size and shape.
     I stepped only just inside the door, loathe to go in any further and
be possibly dragged into their squabble. "How's it hanging, amigo?" I said
lightly, as if I hadn't heard a thing.
     "You ready to go?" Jorge asked me. He and I were Hispanic-American,
with more generations of citizen ancestors than most Caucasians, and
English was our first language. Just a word or two in honor of our heritage
had made its way into our conversation.
     "Sure. I knocked, didn't I, like we agreed?" I returned. I lived just
two doors down from Jorge and Aleyda, except they had a house and I had a
bachelor apartment in a small apartment building, so there hadn't been any
car motor to signal my arrival; my knock had been it.
     "Okay, I'll get my stuff and be right out."
     "Jorge, I told you what would happen...." Aleyda said, but I had
turned and walked out. She was always giving him ultimatums, and trying to
stop him from doing anything but stay home with her all the time. Aleyda
was a nice woman, a hard worker and a good mother, but she didn't have a
clue as to how to make a man happy. She thought that the marriage ceremony
was all there was to it.
     Not that Jorge didn't have a major macho attitude. Take what I'd
overheard. He expected her to work full-time and also care for the house
and children, without any help from him. Of course, Aleyda knew that and
had married him anyway. Had she expected him to change after the marriage?
Well, most women do.
     Jorge showed up with his own gear and we drove to the fishing place
mostly in silence. Neither of us mentioned the argument he'd been having
with Aleyda.
     Women don't understand that about men, how we can just sit and be
silent and not need to say anything to each other for minutes or hours. And
when we do talk, it's only a few words, and long pauses in the middle for
no good reason any women can see. Even me, I spend a lot of my days alone
in my apartment (I'm a free-lance artist), and I didn't feel the need to
talk much, even. Just spending the time with Jorge was enough for me.
     So, in comfortable silence punctuated mostly by gulps of cold beer, we
spent the day fishing and caught a good batch of trout. I drove him back to
his house, and he and I exchanged significant looks as he got out of the
car. "Bring them on over here." I said, and he nodded dolefully. Then I
drove on to my place and brought in the trout and both our fishing gear.
     You see, Jorge had to get his bags, which had been piled out on the
porch. Aleyda had spent the day packing his clothing and, so you see, she
was telling him plain as day that she was throwing him out. He brought in
his bags and set them down. "Just put that stuff anywhere, Jorge." I said.
     "Thanks." He was looking around; he hadn't seen it since I had done
some work on it. "It's nice." he said. "You keep this place very neat."
     I shrugged. "I have to take breaks from drawing, get up and move
around, so I clean house. Tell you what, if you'll clean and gut the fish
for me, I'll cook dinner."
     "Hey, muy bueno, compadre." He said jovially.
     I turned to and fixed those trout by grilling them like steaks with
peppercorns on top, and fixed up a side of some fancy vegetables I had in
my freezer. With some French rolls for the side, twenty minutes later, I
was able to put out a pretty nice spread. I got a good look at his taut
little buttocks in those tight blue-jeans, as he bent over and inhaled
gratefully at the repast I had prepared for us.
     "Man, you're going to spoil me with all this!" he said. "If I didn't
know it was you, I'd think I was being entertained by royalty."
     I laughed. "Another thing I do while I'm resting from my drawing; I
learned how to cook. I have more gourmet stuff in this little efficiency
kitchen than most people have in their full kitchen and pantry."
     "I can believe it." We sat down and he bit into the fish steak and
rolled his eyes. "Wonderful! Man, if Aleyda could cook like this, I'd never
have left her."
     I didn't point out who had left who, men don't do that, either. "She
can't cook?"
     "Not much." he grumbled. "Says she doesn't have time. Just throw
something in the microwave and heat it up. Supper for me usually comes in a
little foil tray."
     Women wouldn't have to listen to this as news, they would have talked
it all out over and over again, long ago. Like I said, men aren't like
that.
     "I'm sorry to hear that." I agreed. "Well, as long as you live here,
you'll eat like a king."
     That got a grin. "Sounds good to me. I see one more TV dinner, I'm
going to turn into a TV."
     After dinner, we watched television, in silence. A nice, comfortable
silence. It was nice having someone in the house with me. I spend too much
time alone. I hate to admit it, but I was glad Aleyda had thrown Jorge out.
     Finally, when the news came on, he yawned and said, "Well, I'm ready
to hit the sack, but I need a shower. I smell like fish." He sniffed
loudly. "And so do you."
     "So help yourself, and I'll take one when you're done." I agreed.
     He came out wearing only a pair of thin, yellow boxer shorts, and I
tried not to look, scurried inside and closed the door, turned the water on
and dove in, letting the shock of water help douse my flames of need. Damn,
how was I going to sleep next to him like that? I finished and he knocked
on the door while I was drying off.
     "I'm getting into bed." he announced.
     "Okay." I said. "Which side do you prefer?"
     "I don't care." he said. "With Aleyda, I usually end up on the left."
     "So take the left."
     He was talkative, and continued, "You know, man, if Aleyda was half
the housewife you are, I wouldn't ever have a complaint."
     "Well, my work keeps me home." I said again. "You can't draw non-stop,
you have to draw a little and stop for a few minutes. Nothing else to do
but keep house or fiddle with food."
     He sighed happily. "Yeah, you're a man and you know what a man wants."
     "Slavish devotion from the missus." I said sarcastically as I dried my
back.
     "You got that right." He said, not spotting the joke, or not
caring. "A man comes home from a hard day's work, he wants to have a hot
meal and some television, and not a lot of screaming and jabbering. Watch
television, drink a few beers, then into bed for a little game of
hide-the-sausage."
     "Just stick it in her." I ventured.
     "Yeah." he said. "You're lucky you're not married. Man, you get
married and you'd think you could drop all that romance shit. Instead, you
have to lie there and hug and kiss on her when all you want to do is get
off and then get some sleep. Most nights, I would have given anything to
have Aleyda just reach over and grab me. Suck it off, ride my dick,
anything, just do it and then leave me alone. But a woman has to be stroked
before, and afterwards she wants to cuddle, when you're all tired and
sleepy and worn out. And she wants to cuddle, on and on and on. If you
don't, then you don't love her."
     "A man doesn't want that." I agreed.
     "Damn right." he said. "Just get me off, and then get away."
     I didn't answer, and I thought that ended the conversation. I finished
up, dug a pair of briefs out of the small bathroom cabinet, glad I kept my
underwear in here in the bathroom. I walked out wearing just it, and Jorge
was lying on top of my bed, stark naked, with a hardon! "Hey, Miguel?" he
said to me.
     "Yeah, Jorge?" I couldn't take my eyes off his cock! Seven beautiful
inches of Hispanic cock, which leaned gracefully towards his stomach,
wrapped in a dun-colored foreskin that segued into the rest of his body
flawlessly.
     "I need to get off."
     "Oh?" I said. "Well...okay, go ahead." I said. I had walked over to
him while staring, not realizing what I was doing, my body on automatic, it
continued on the course I had laid out before I realized what Jorge was, or
wasn't, wearing.
     His hand took mine and placed it on his crotch. "I said I need to get
off." he repeated.
     I could have pretended not to understand, or to be offended. But I
understood perfectly. He had read my beads all right. What I did say, as I
pulled on his pud, was, "How long have you known?"
     "Oh, years and years." he grinned at me, a graceful curve of lips and
shine of teeth.
     "And you didn't care?" I asked him.
     "Naw, you're a friend." he said. "I've seen you looking when I wasn't
supposed to see you looking."
     "I'm sorry."
     "Hey, amigo." he said softly. "I'm here, aren't I?"
     "Yeah." I breathed. "You're here."
     "So knock yourself out." he reached up and grabbed me by the back of
my head and pushed me down, not hard, just a gesture to tell me what he
wanted next.
     I didn't need any more encouragement, I gulped him down and slathered
his love-muscle with my tongue eagerly, trying to cram that entire gorgeous
body into my mouth all at once. The angle was awkward, and I scooted around
to get where my feet and legs were mostly hanging over the side of the bed,
but my mouth was on Jorge's cock and his legs were splayed wide to give me
plenty of room, and he cocked his arms out and put his hands behind his
head, just looked down at me like that, not helping me in any way, just
letting me service that beautiful, beautiful pud the way I'd always wanted
to!
     I nursed him gratefully, loving this gift of his body. He had the
pleasure of my mouth on his cock playing up and down it with fervent
attentions, I had the joy of that wonderful hunk of man-flesh in my mouth,
tasting the musky, salty, meaty flavor of it as it bobbed in and out of my
mouth, working him hard and fast, for he had just been telling me what he
wanted at the end of a hard day, a quick release and then some sleep. I was
happy to obey his wishes.
     "Mmmm." came the soft moan from Jorge as I lavished my attentions on
his prong, the groan punctuated with each of my rapid strokes up and down
his thick shaft. Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm! Just that long, slow moan of pleasure, and
it wasn't something he was doing for me, he was groaning because it felt
good and when something feels good, you moan. I shifted over onto one side
with my body while keeping my mouth firmly upright on his cock, this let me
pound my pud while I suckled his juicy dong, resting one shoulder on his
smooth, clean thigh and I humped my fist in the same tempo as I sucked on
his prick.
     "Mmmmh!" Jorge said to me.
     "Nnnnnh!" I responded, for my hand felt wonderfully alive on my prick,
the taste of a best friend's cock turned it from a mere meat-beating into a
joining of our lovemaking.
     "Mmmh! Mmmh!" Jorge groaned, and I realize he was nearing his
orgasm. Now he was groaning on purpose, to warn me and let me pull loose if
I wanted to, but I clung tight because I wanted to instead, and after a few
more desperate moans, he clutched my head in both hands, fucked into my
face fiercely, and with a strangled gasp, he cut loose and blasted my mouth
with his come-wads, and he humped at my mouth roughly as he filled me with
his creamy jizz, and I held it all in my mouth, giving him a warm bath of
his own man-juice, so that he slorped noisily in my mouth, the sound of a
washing machine agitator, slorp-slup-slorp-slup-slorp-slup, as his cock
dove into that creamy morass and then pulled back out, all sticky and heavy
with clinging sperm.
     After a time, he was done, and before his cock could deflate, I
quickly grasped it tight in my mouth, and holding it deep within me, only
then did I swallow his load, pulled and suctioning his cock clean with my
mouth and tongue as I swallowed, so that when I released him, he was as
clean as he had been when he first stepped out of that shower.
     I was still whomping my sausage, and I scooted up on the bed quickly
and rolled onto my back and began to really bang my pole, I was lost in the
sensation and my eyes closed so that I squinted and my mouth grimaced, my
entire face wrenched up in a knot.
     And Jorge's hand reached down and gently wrested my prong from my
grip, and I looked up, startled for real this time, lying there helpless as
he kindly took my cock in his hand and began to pump it for me, a good
friend returning the favor. I was so hot I groaned immediately, the feel of
Jorge's hand on my cock was all I needed, all I could ever want, just my
friend giving me pleasure, and I groaned, gasped out loud sounds of raunchy
pleasure, "Hah! Hah! Hah! Hah!"
     "Come on, compadre, shoot it for me!" Jorge encouraged me. His face
was looking right into mine as he flogged my cock, watching my face contort
with pleasure, given by his hand. "Come on, buddy, really shoot it all over
yourself." he urged me. I could tell; he wanted to watch my face as I shot
my wad! I couldn't help but obey that command, my body was spasming from
the sheer pleasure of this lusty rut, and I fucked upwards into Jorge's
palm and I rose up partly off the bed, as my stomach contracted, but
keeping my eyes locked on his that gleamed in triumph and, my buttocks
working frenetically and uselessly, I blew my nuts right then and there.
     Jorge was surprised at the ferocity of the load, and so was I, it flew
everywhere at once! It landed on me, it landed on him, it landed all over
the covers, there was no place anywhere near me that was safe from that
high-flying, wide-falling come-load. Jorge ducked to one side, but it got
him on top of the head for his troubles, and he groaned in dismay. But he
kept right on flogging, a true-blue friend to the end, kept his hand
working my pud until it became a soggy sludge in his hand and his eyes
stayed on my face as I looked at him through a fog of pleasure, locked to
his gaze with my own.
     Done at last, I gasped for breath as quick as I could, as Jorge wiped
ineffectually at his body. "Oh, man, I'm, so, sah, sah, sorry!" I panted
out before I was ready to speak.
     He grinned a reluctant grin of admiration. "Man, that was a load you
had in you!" he said. "It got everywhere. You're going to have to scrub the
entire apartment tomorrow."
     "Let me get a rag and clean you up." I said as I rose to a sitting
position.
     "Oh, screw that." he said, grabbing my shoulder and throwing me back
down. "It can wait until morning. Let's get some sleep."
     He pulled the covers out from under me as I groggily inchwormed
upwards to the pillow, and then threw the covers over both of us and
snuggled in tightly.
     "Good night, amigo." he sighed in my ear.
     The smell of my jism was heavy in my nostrils. And the smell of
him. "Good night." I said.
     As I lay there with Jorge's breaths stroking my neck, I thought about
what I had heard Aleyda screaming at Jorge just that morning. "What do you
want?" she kept pleading with him.
     Like it was the mystery of the ages or something, when the answer was
so damned simple! Companionship without complications. A clean house
without having to hear how much work it took to get it that way or keep it
that way. Food served lavish and fresh without hassles or moans about how
hard it was to do or how much it cost or why by all rights he didn't
deserve it. And finally, sex to release the flood and quiet the flesh, to
permit a good night's sleep.
     Yeah, sleep! That was what I needed right then. So did Jorge.
     And so we went to sleep in each other's arms.

				  THE END
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		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM