Date: Mon, 29 Apr 2013 09:18:43 +0100 (GMT Daylight Time)
From: "RichardPetersBooks@yahoo.co.uk" <RichardPetersBooks@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Dreams Chapter 3 - We Were the Only Things Real

Chapter 3 - We Were the Only Things Real

I got him to work somehow. He looked even more pale and vulnerable than ever
 My love for him remained unexpressed. What he needed now was pal.

We met at lunchtime and back at my place he helped me pack. The girls had
made themselves scarce. I grabbed my bag, my records and the sleeping bag. I
could crash at his for a few days, said I'd keep an eye on him.

That evening we watched boring telly. We drank a few beers. I threw the
sleeping bag on his couch and said good night. He staggered off to his
bedroom, the room he'd shared with his wife. I striped and climbed naked
into the sleeping bag. I was carelessly playing with myself, not thinking of
anything in particular, just feeling mellow.

The bedroom door opened. Stevie naked and swaying slightly came out. He
stood before me.

"I mean what's wrong with me?" He asked. He was pulling on his cock, getting
it to grow, desperately trying to make it bigger.

"Nothing, it's fine, you're fine! Any woman would want you. You're a very
handsome man. She's mad! Now get some sleep!" I tried to order him back to
his room. He stayed in front of me displaying himself.

"Come on, big boy!" I said, climbing out of my sleeping bag. I noticed
Stevie glance at my hard cock. I put my arm round his shoulder and supported
his woozy body across the room and into his bedroom.

I flopped him down on his bed, his hard cock bounced against his stomach.
His hand reached out for mine. "Don't go!" he pleaded. I sat on the edge of
the double bed. His hand pulled mine down to his hardness. He closed his
eyes and gasped at my touch.

"Just need, you know," he said, still with his eyes closed. "Just need some
tenderness, just need to get off, you know."

"I know." I said. My fingers played with his hard cock. "It's a really great
cock, really it is." I whispered. He opened his eyes and looked vacantly
into mine while I played with him. "Any woman would love this." I said.

He watched me as I leant down toward his face. "You really are a randy
little sod aren't you!" I whispered. He was pushing his backside off the bed
 trying to get me to feel him some more. My lips brushed against his soft,
moist, pink lips. They parted slightly and we kissed a gentle kiss. I
thought I was going to die! His lips were cool, his face was like an angel's
 It was wonderful.

With our lips still gently making contact and breaking, only to touch again,
I swung my body over Stevie's smaller, more fragile frame. Stevie didn't try
to stop me. He was the wrong side of sober, but not so far-gone that he didn
t know what I was doing. He let me. Our mouths were parted now and I pushed
my arms out straight lifting my body away from his.

Stevie's eyes stayed closed while he felt my silky, foreskin-covered cock
wipe up and down his rougher, thicker prick. I carefully stoked my encased
head over his exposed one. I could look down between us and see us both.
Mine slid over his glistening knob, spreading his juice over it. Stevie
moaned quietly, eyes closed savouring the sensations in his knob. He licked
his tiny lips.

I could hold back no more. Slowly I lowered myself onto him. Our stomachs
met, our chests met and once again our lips met. Stevie's parted wider than
before, I darted my tongue just inside. It met his own tongue, which pushed
back. Our mouths opened full and we kissed deep and passionately. Our faces
gyrated against each other while our tongues pushed and squirmed together.

His compact body resisted the pressure from my own, suddenly the passion
welled-up inside Stevie and he threw me over onto my back, before crashing
down onto me and pressing his eager mouth to mine again. He pressed his body
onto mine.

At last my dream was coming true, Stevie was making love to me! I knew, even
as his mouth kissed mine and his tongue explored inside, even then, I knew
he would be thinking of his wife, imagining it was her mouth, imagining his
chest was pressed against hers, imagining his cock was seeking her entrance.
But nevertheless, it was me he was on top of, it was my mouth he was kissing
 it was my chest, my nipples that he was pressed against. And down there, it
was my hard cock he was rubbing against. His delicious powerful prick was
lying next to mine and I could feel it urgently pressing into my groin. My
own was slipping around against his skin. We were both swimming in a layer
of juice. Our knobs were gliding against each other's skin and slipping
joyously against each other.

There was so much lubrication and motion between us that my shy cock-head
had pushed out past my foreskin and was swimming in our combined juice.
Stevie started to hump up and down, his mouth left mine to seek the warmth
of my neck and shoulder. I placed both hands on his marble cool arse cheeks
and pushed down when he pushed down and back when he drew back only to push
harder when he descended again.

Stevie groaned at the contact. He was sucking frantically at the base of my
neck. I wanted him to mark me with his mouth, I wanted his trophy of passion
 My hands frantically clawed at his heaving bottom. I pushed my hips up
against him when he pushed down and sank away from him when he lifted up,
before pushing back to meet his descent.

"Oh fuck! oh fuck! oh God!" he groaned. My angel was shagging against me.
For the moment, right now, we were the only things real and our passion for
each other was without limit.

"Oh shit!" I rasped through clenched teeth and pushed my body up hard,
holding it there against his gyrating body. Arched up like that and feeling
like my cock head was dropping off, I felt my love-juice gush forth.

I fell back after the first pulse and Stevie moaned, falling onto me and
wildly throwing his lower half against me. I felt his warm fluid shoot
between our sweaty stomachs and mine continued to gush out, to mix with his.

Still groaning, Stevie lifted his chest off mine and pushed his hips as hard
as he could against me. He was snorting and saliva dribbled out between his
clenched teeth to drip onto my chest.

His normally white face was flushed bright red with passion and his neck too
 The dark hair in the centre of his chest was wet and matted against his
skin.

Still my cock throbbed against him and his arse was pushing slightly back up
and down while he wrung every last drop of spunk out of his rock-hard cock.

At last he fell in an exhausted heap on top of me. My cock still felt like
spunk was flowing out of it in rivers of delight to melt into the sea of our
mixed sperm.

We had shared the most intimate thing a man can give. The product of love,
lust, passion and desire. We had freely given it to each other and even now
our secret fluids were joyfully flowing together, seed meeting seed, and
swimming together in the microscopic gap between our stomachs.

My cock was shrinking and my glans was aching to return to the protection of
my foreskin. Stevie's exposed and toughened one was, I supposed, happily
sliding in our lubrication. He was panting on top of my panting body. I didn
t want to break the moment, to adjust my sensitive cock. The moment would
end soon enough, just a few more seconds of satisfied exhaustion.

Stevie's face was buried in the pillow next to my head. He was still
groaning and gasping for breath. My hand ran through his dark curls. My
lovely, lovely lover!

"Holy Shit!" Stevie said, lifting his head off the pillow.

"Well done big boy!" I sighed, as he flopped off me to lie beside me.

I quickly flipped my glans back into its protective sheath and jumped up to
get a wet flannel.

Before wiping myself clean in the bathroom. I dipped my finger into the cold
mixture on my belly and slipped it into my mouth. I tasted our mixed seed.
The smell was strong, but the taste was surprisingly neutral. I cleaned it
all off me. It had run down and coated my balls, but eventually I washed it
all off.

I rinsed the flannel and ran warm water over it. If I was lucky, before the
normal guys-together routine kicked back in on Stevie, perhaps I could use
the flannel to wash him clean and feel and examine my lovely friend.

Back in the bedroom he was flaked out, his legs apart and his arms lifted up
 the hands cupping the back of his head. Like that, he was clearly showing
me the delicious armpits that I had not seen. The dark hair in them was wet
with sweat and contrasted wonderfully with his pale skin.

"Some fuck!" he said smiling at me.

"Yeah, I guess we're both randy little sods." I said.

"Not so little in your case!" he nodded toward my now shrunken cock. In
contrast to my protected prick, Stevie's cut one, didn't shrink back to a
couple of inches like mine. It was lying floppy and nearly four inches long
in a pool of spunk. His hairy balls glistened with strings of sperm.

"Let me do it." I said and lay beside him, carefully mopping his stomach.
His head rested in his hands, he lay back comfortably showing himself to me
without embarrassment, while I cleaned him. He seemed to enjoy it, so I
lifted the base of his soft cock, the same one that had been punching into
my belly like there was no tomorrow. I gently wiped the still warm flannel
over the length of it, and afraid to hurt him I very softly dabbed his
lovely head. It was still purple with passion and I was afraid it might hurt
him.

"Careful, you'll get me going again!" He grinned at me. I let his cock go.
The normal-pals together, was kicking in and despite his joke it would be a
no-no to do anything sexual now.

I leapt off the bed and returned to the bathroom. Before rinsing the flannel
I took one last smell of our mixed man-scent and then flushed it down the
plug.

With a very wet and warm flannel, I returned with one last hope. Stevie was
still in the same position, still making himself available for me to tend to


I stroked his sweaty chest with it. The dark hairs rippled in response to my
flannel covered hand. Stevie moaned with pleasure at the warm cloth taking
his sweat away. Down over his belly and down each leg I went, leaving a film
of fresh water on his skin. He squirmed at the feeling of his skin drying
and cooling and his body hair springing up as it dried. Back up his chest
and onto his face. I mopped his forehead.

Finally into each armpit, my flannel went. He liked that!

He smiled at me. Then he rolled over onto his side. The double bed suddenly
seemed very big. I half-heartedly stroked his back with the flannel. He
moved about in pleasure at the cool moisture. "More!" he moaned. I wiped
every inch of his back. Then cautiously, I went down to his arse cheeks. He
let me wipe them too. Daringly I slipped down toward his bum crack. Without
saying anything he parted his legs slightly, I went in with the flannel.
Maybe he would let me, as a pal, maybe he'd let me put my, now hard again,
cock down there. Maybe we could take it in turns to fuck each other. Not
arseholes or anything faggy like that, but just between the legs. Maybe we
could shag each other's thighs.

His legs clamped shut. Shit! I'd overstepped the mark! He'd never want to be
friends again!

"I, I can't!" he protested. "I'm not a fag or anything. I don't like stuff
like that."

"Sorry." I said withdrawing my hand from him.

"It's not you." Stevie said rolling over and looking into my eyes to
reassure me. "I'm the same as you, guys like to poke it in don't they? I'd
like to poke mine between your legs, hump again, maybe talk about girls and
what we'd like to do with them. But I can't not, not after what happened."

Then he told me. Told me about hitchhiking in the States, about the
eight-wheeler, about the two truckers, the driver and his mate. About being
sat up-front between them, about the beer, the lecherous talk from the men
about a good-looking kid like him fucking his girlfriend. About him feeling
raunchy. About the lay-by. About them saying to go into the back on the
mattress to get some shut-eye. About them both stripping off and laughing at
his shyness. About one grabbing him and the other pulling his shirt off and
his pants down. About his useless calls for help inside the truck in the
lonely lay-by. About them feeling his naked body and their talk of him being
nice to them. About one holding his arms to the mattress while the other
pinned his legs under his knees. About the fat cock and the big man lying on
top and shoving it against his arse. About his screams of pain as he was
penetrated. About the man's bestial grunts and the quick orgasm. About the
other one shoving his in Stevie's mouth. About his commands to suck like a
whore. About the second prick shoved up his arse. About his cries and sobs.

We were facing each other on our sides, his story was dreadful. Despite the
trauma of the memories. Stevie was hard. I stroked his cheek.