Date: Tue, 26 Mar 2002 15:16:56
From: Kevin None of your business <kevin_b@hotmail.com>
Subject: Down on Dyke Road Part 6

Down on Dyke Road Part 6


It had been over a week since my last trip to Dyke Road.  A flu had gone
around the office, and I was lucky enough to have caught it, so on those
rare days when I did actually go to work I didn't feel much like having fun
afterwards.  It was more the pity, actually, because most of the days found
me at home, surfing the web to occupy my time when I wasn't sleeping.  I
spent hours chatting with men who wanted sex, and reading stories about men
wanting sex, and watching mpegs of men having sex.  My resolve to respect my
potential partners by not giving them the flu was diminishing with each
second.

Those days were full of masturbation, every chance I could get.  I loved
stroking my cock, rubbing it until it was red and my balls were covered in
sweat.  Swallowing every single drop of cum I produced, as the days went by
I found the quantity of my loads smaller with each orgasm, and my thirst, my
hunger, for the sweet love cum directly from another mans turgid throbbing
cock was becoming overwhelming!

So on Wednesday, when I went to work feeling much better, I knew I'd be back
at the river later that day.  A huge container ferry was slowly working the
way upstream when I arrived, and I was delighted to smoke my cigar while
watching it.  The sun was setting behind some dark clouds, turning the last
rays of the day a distinct and gorgeous shade of purply-red.

As it turned out, that was the only delights I had that day.  No one came
by, not one horny man looking for some casual outdoor sex.  I went home
disappointed, although remembering that no one gets lucky all the time and
being grateful for the opportunities I'd been presented so far.  Still, it
was a little discouraging.

The next day was the same, as was the day after that.  Three days in a row I
had to remind myself that just viewing a sunset, listening to great music on
my car's CD player, getting baked on the finest weed and enjoying my one
cigar of the day was more than wonderful.  And don't get me wrong, I do
truly treasure those moments of solitude and physical beauty.  It's never a
disappointment to share some quality time with Mother Nature.

But I was really dying to suck some cock!

Saturday was a mountain bike-riding day, and I followed my usual trail down
the river a few kilometres.  I saw a couple of dozen or so people, always
looking for any signs from guys that they were out there for something other
than the fresh air.  But if there were hints, I didn't get them.  So the
ride turned into just that; a good ride.  I was on the trails for a couple
of hours, and by the time I returned home my thigh muscles ached, my lungs
were wide open and full of quality oxygen, and I was covered in a sheen of
sweat.  The rest of the day went by with food and friends, and I vowed to
get up the next day and repeat my exercise.

Sunday was overcast, and threatening rain, but I was undaunted.  I hopped
onto my bike early in the morning and headed out.  An hour or so later, I
was covered in sweat and stopped at a picnic table near the river, snacking
on a PowerBar and enjoying the wind blowing through my hair.  I didn't hear
anyone approaching, and was quite surprised when I heard the voice behind
me.

"How's it going?"

I turned, in shock, to see a mid-thirties guy, wearing sweats and a
pullover, dark shoulder-length curly hair, tanned skin.  He looked like he'd
been jogging, his breathing heavy.

"Good.  How about you?"

He nodded his answer.  He looked nervous, although I could be wrong.  He was
shifting his weight back and forth.  It looked like he was trying to think
of something to say, but couldn't quite come up with anything.

"It's a great day, isn't it?"

Looking around, back and forth, he nodded once more.  But he still couldn't
say anything.

A few awkward moments went by, while he just looked at me.  Finally, I
decided to test the waters, to see if my day was improving.

"Are you looking for something?"

At that he perked up.  A smile crossed his face, and he made an obvious
gesture towards a treed area a few yards away.

I think my smile was even bigger than his, as it suddenly came to me what he
wanted.  Sex!  He was just too nervous to bring it up!  I laughed, and
grabbed my bike and started pushing it to the trees.  Glancing over my
shoulder, I gave him my best 'come hither' look and then slipped in-between
two large bushes that I knew led to a small area well-hidden from the trail.

I leaned my bike against a tree as he entered the area.  It was obvious he
had a hard-on, his sweats were tenting out.  I could already tell that he
had a nice package.  Not as nice as Brad's, or Richard's for that matter,
but I had no doubt it was going to fit into my mouth quite nicely!  He was
looking down at my crotch too, and I proudly smiled at the hard-on forming
in my spandex shorts.  This was indeed a turn-on!

As I approached him, he quickly looked around, reassuring himself one more
time before anything happened that he was safe, that no one could see.  I
understood his nervousness.  Although I'd been having a really good string
of luck and confidence in the last two weeks with my encounters and probably
more relaxed about the situation, I was struck by his concern.  The lesson
is a good one to learn.  Don't let the horniness get the best of you.  It's
not a bad thing to be secure.

Anyway, those few seconds went by and we were fine.  I walked up to him, and
let my left hand drift to his belly.  He shivered as soon as I touched him,
and I knew it was an amazing moment, the thrill of his lifetime, so I smiled
and then ran my hand down directly over his cock, now rock hard in his
sweats.  He gasped, and a moan escaped his lips, despite the obvious attempt
he was making at trying to play it cool, to control the situation, to
pretend like he was the master of his urges.  That made me smile even more.
For some reason, I suddenly realized this could be his first time, and it
took me back to my own initial sexual experience with another man.  I
remembered how fucking nervous and scared I was too, how I was actually
shuddering in almost imperceptible motions throughout my entire body, every
nerve and muscle, when I was caressed for the first time.

I moved closer to him, my side touching his, next to his arm, giving him the
opportunity, if he wanted it, of putting his left arm on or around me.
There was no sense in pushing him if this was indeed his male/male
"de-flowering".  I'd let him get as involved, or not, as he wanted to be.
Still, my immediate guess was that he wouldn't really do much.

So I was very delighted when his arm came up, brushing my ass, and moving to
the middle of my back.  This was going better than I'd expected.  My hand,
to this point delicately tracing the shape of his cock, now pressed more
firmly onto him, bringing a deeper and louder moan from him, and I moved
even closer to him, tucking my head between his head and his shoulder, and
gently kissed his neck.  He was breathing heavily now, as my fingers
caressed his shaft and then his balls in long slow languorous and forceful
ways.  I was trying to take more of him into my hands, notwithstanding the
material of his sweats getting in the way.

My tongue gently licked the skin below his left ear as my kiss began
exploring, and I teasingly moved up and took his earlobe in between my lips,
gently biting down and sucking that little flap of skin as hard as I could.
His head leaned over towards me, and his arm began moving up and down my
back, getting ever closer to my ass.  As it was, I was pressing my groin
into his hip, trying to rub my own rippling cock against him harder and
harder, as my hand closed down fully on his penis, rubbing him with all my
might.

His breath caught in his throat, so all he could do was whisper "Holy fuck",
which made me laugh and my grip on his earlobe let go.  I loved his
reaction, hearing the unbridled passion in his words, and my instant
reaction was to lift my head and move my mouth to his.  In the second or two
it took me to move my lips to just next to his, he reeled, pushing me away
in one smooth motion as his eyes widened like teacup saucers.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he practically yelled, and as I stumbled back
on my heels I took a quick peek to both the left and the right, in case
someone had heard and was running to his assistance.  "I'm not a fag!"

For just a few seconds, I stood in stunned disbelief.  How could I have read
this all wrong?  Wasn't he giving me all the right signs?  Am I just so
horny and needy for sex with men that I deluded myself?

But those feelings quickly turned, and I found myself becoming angry.  How
dare he?  What was he thinking?

"Oh you're not a fag, huh?  So who came in here to get sex?  Who was just
standing there loving it while a man was fondling his cock and kissing his
neck?"

He couldn't answer that.  He just stood there, breathing hard, his tent
still evident in his sweatpants.

"Look at you!"  I pointed right as his crotch.  "You're standing there with
a huge hard-on!  Sure, you're not a fag," I stretched out that word
sarcastically, "but you still want to get sucked, don't you?"

His hands were trembling.

My incredulous tone took over.  "Don't you?"

There was fear in his eyes, but I could see it changing.  It was almost like
a recognition of some sort, an awareness suddenly coming to him as he let
his initial emotional reaction fade.  Society told him it was wrong, which
is why he lashed out.  But now he could see that he really did want it,
really did want a man to suck him.  That's not how it's supposed to be,
that's the puritanical doctrine he's trying to get over.  And then, as his
breathing returned closer to normal, he looked down at himself, and a
glimpse of a smile came over his face.

"And let me guess," I continued, "you think that another man kissing you
makes you a fag, but it's perfectly straight and normal to let another man
rub your cock, let him suck you off?  Is that the idea?"

His eyes lifted to mine again, and he sheepishly nodded yes.  He was kind of
cute when he wasn't been a jerk.

"I...I..." he stammered,  "I...don't know what to say.  I'm sorry."

I let him stew in the sounds of those words, as I took a moment to think
about what I'd say next.  As I paced slightly back and forth, I was struck
with the humor of the situation, especially when I realized that I still had
a rock-hard piece of flesh in my spandex shorts.

His eyes were staring at my cock too.  I could see when I looked up at him.
He was staring at it, and there was the trace of a smile on his face!

That's when it all became perfectly clear to me.  He not only wanted me to
suck his cock, to swallow his meat and drink his juice like the good cumslut
that I am, but he had that craving for flesh himself!  I was flooded with
imagery of him on his knees, his virgin lips wrapped around the pulsing
pre-cum-drenched head of my cock, his fingers lightly fondling my balls.  It
was almost like a movie in my head, with different angles of viewing, slow
motion, and incredible close-ups.

"Get over here."

He looked up at me, from my hard-on to my eyes.  The look was a questioning
one.

"What?"

"You heard me," I answered, slipping my hands under the waistband of the
shorts and beginning to peel them downward, exposing the skin of my lower
belly and then the reddish-brown curls of my pubic hair.   "Get over here.
Now."

His eyes were like saucers again, only this time they weren't part of an
abject look of fear.  This time, he was stepping so far out of the door and
into space he knew he'd never come back the same.

"This is what you want, isn't it?" I asked as I freed my throbbing cock,
which sprang up and thwapped me on the belly.  My balls, furry and full of
seed, hung down and stole his attention too.  "You want me to suck you,
you've already admitted that.  But I can tell," I continued, " even more,
you want to feel what it's like to have a salty cock down your throat
first."

Neither of us moved for a few moments.  It occurred to me that I might have
over-played it, and I was about to say something, when he moved his right
foot forward.  I looked up at his face, and his smile was more evident.  I'd
won!

"Yes, I admit it," he whispered as he moved his left foot now, and then his
right, and then his left.  I stopped counting, as he also began moving
lower, so by the time he was in front of me he simply fell the tiny amount
to his knees, bringing his mouth a scant few inches from my shaft.  I looked
down, and for the first time in my life found myself in a control position.
Several scenarios instantly played out in my head, and if possible my cock
became even harder.

Looking from his eyes to my cock-head and back again, I found my voice.

"Do you want to suck my cock?"

He nodded up and down, the first few slowly and then faster after that, and
started leaning towards it, I'm sure to take his first step, or should I say
lick, towards sexual freedom.

I stopped him by leaning backwards slightly, moving my cock away from his
nearing mouth.

"First, you have to beg me to kiss you."

I wondered how he'd react.  Would he be appalled, again?  Am I still
crossing a line he simply won't abide?  Was I about to ruin what could be a
great cock-sucking session for me?

There wasn't long to wait.  He licked his lips, which trembled nervously,
and looked me in the eyes.  I watched his breath seem to come straight up
from the center of his body, finally manifesting itself in the sweetest of
voice.

"Please kiss me."  He waited a second or two for my reaction.  "Please."

God, I wished I'd had a camera with me.  To be able to record the longing in
his eyes, the need he so obviously had for male/male sexuality, would have
been priceless.  Still, I have the memory firmly implanted in my mind,
etched forever in my psyche.  This peaceful Sunday morning, in a setting as
quiet and placid as this riverside forest, the distant and plaintive cry of
the gulls, wind rustling through the leaves of the trees and shrubs, are all
with me still, as vivid as when they were new.

I leaned over and touched my lips to his.  He shivered, as did I, and then
he opened his mouth, offering it to me.  Of course, I gladly took it.  My
tongue slipped between his lips, which were now grabbing at mine hungrily,
and touched his teeth before delicately finding his tongue.  Both of us were
breathing heavily now, rapid snorts of cool air rippling through our
nostrils, our mouths joined, lips caressing.  My fingers moved to his head
and ran through his dark, curly hair, and I pulled his head even closer to
mine.

For someone who moments ago was aghast at the prospect, he was truly
impressing me with his new-found sensual openness.  He'd discovered
something new today, and I was so elated and warmed that I'd been able to
help him on that journey.  Plus, he was an incredible kisser!

We continued kissing, both of us moving our heads back and forth, our noses
bumping as we switched sides over and over, our tongues tasting and touching
each other's.  Short of breath, but not wanting to stop, I nonetheless
recognized that he was letting me lead the tongue dance, and I decided we
had to move onto other things.

Breaking the kiss, I looked him in the eyes, and smiled.  "I'm married, and
I kiss men.  I see that you have a ring on too, so you're married and now
you kiss men.  That doesn't make you a fag."  My words hung in the air.

"It makes you a sexual person, somebody who enjoys pleasure.  Nothing more,
nothing less.  It makes you a lover."

He nodded, and I kissed him once more, lightly, and with feeling.

Then I stood up straight, and wrapping my fingers around the hot and pulsing
shaft of my penis, I brought it to within millimeters of his lips.

"Now," I whispered, "you can suck my cock."

It was like I'd told a starving man on his deathbed that he could save
himself and eat the feast that had been laid out before him.  His lips
instantly engulfed my cock-head, now seeping pre-cum like I couldn't
remember ever doing, and I could hear the slurping sounds his mouth made as
he sucked it all off my skin and into his mouth.  Then I moaned out loud,
letting him know he was doing it right, and he smiled around my shaft.  His
eyes closed, he was reveling in the sensations he was experiencing, as he
took more and more of me into his mouth with each down-stroke.  He ran his
hands up the backside of my legs, up to my bare ass, and began kneading my
cheeks.  I was hoping he'd slip a finger into my ass at that moment, but it
was a fleeting thought.  He'd already gone further than he'd ever thought
possible, and was pleasuring me in ways he'd abhorred until today, and his
hands felt incredibly wonderful caressing my buttocks.

All too soon I felt the sensations rising in me, the nerve endings deep
within the base of my cock beginning that most precious of cycles, the cum
beginning to rise within my balls.  His head was bobbing faster now, and
with each rush of air on my slick shaft as he came up, I knew I was going to
fill his palette with my seed.  It was only a matter of time, and a short
matter at that.

A few sucks later, I felt that surge inside that told me I could control the
inevitable no longer.  Grunting loudly, I grabbed the back of his head with
both hands and pulled him to me, basically shoving the entire length of my
cock into his mouth.  For a split second, time did indeed stand still, and I
saw his eyes close again, as if he knew what was going to happen and not
only was prepared for it but welcomed it with all his might.

Pulse after pulse, I shot streams of jism into his mouth.  It didn't even
slow him down.  He was swallowing my cum and sucking it out faster than I
could pump it.  Each shot was divine, and each was toe-curling and oh so
memorable.

I finally let go of his head, but he didn't bring it off my cock.  He kept
licking and sucking, taking time to kiss and lick and suck my balls too,
while my cock glistened in the speckled sunlight of the morning from a
combination of his saliva and my semen.  Then he returned to my shaft, and
licked up every thing he could, moaning all the while.

What's most amazing about his encounter is that it almost never happened.
About twenty minutes later, after I'd cleaned his balls out with the best
blowjob he'd ever had, and after we'd spent a short time just making out
like teenagers, I looked back on his initial reaction to the idea of kissing
me and how it all could have gone south.  My thoughts and feelings came
flooding back to me, and my cock again swelled with blood.

I remembered the taste of his cum, how much of it there was, how he was just
over six inches and cut and had shaved balls, and how he'd absolutely
giggled in delight when I'd slipped a finger into his anus.  His shaking as
he came, the raging smile he held as he calmed down from his orgasm.  All of
those pictures are stored in my memory as well.

Then I laughed to myself, thinking about what had been an afterthought, and
how it shouldn't have been.  After I'd blown him, and swallowed every drop
of his delicious cum, and after we'd both straightened up and were walking
back out of the treed area towards the trail, to return to our other lives,
I turned to him and asked him the one question I'd failed to before.  He
smiled from ear to ear when he answered, as he waved goodbye to me and told
me that he really sincerely hoped that we'd meet again.

He told me his name.  Ken.

I got the funny feeling I'd be seeing more from him.



End of Part 6.

More to follow.