Date: Mon, 22 Feb 2016 19:01:11 +0000 (UTC)
From: simon peter <simon23232@yahoo.com>
Subject: Tennis Anyone?

Dear Reader:
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2. The characters and places in this story are fictional.
3. I try my best to develop the story. However, some readers have commented
that I should follow up on my stories with parts two and three and so on. I
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5. Enjoy reading.


Tennis Anyone?

By Simon Peter

It has been said that God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve. For me,
God created both Eve and Steve. Yes. I am bi-polar, and I like both the
Eves and the Steves of the world.

The first time I spotted Steve was on the tennis court. I don't play
tennis, but I love to watch the game...  and the boys. Tennis and soccer
players attract me the most, unlike American football and basketball
players. I prefer my man to be lean, firm, sporty, and of average build. I
find footballers and basketballers a little overwhelming: too tall, too
broad, too much muscle. They intimidate me.

Steve caught my attention mostly by the way he moved. He was playing in
shorts only, with a naked torso. This was extremely appealing to me as I
watched his body and his chest move across the tennis court. His fitness
showed grace and class and I couldn't take my eyes away from him. It didn't
take me long to decide that I needed him in bed. As I sat in the bleachers
watching, I started plotting. His match partner was also hot, but Steve was
beyond hot.

This was my strategy.

Step one: arrange a chance meeting and get Steve into some kind of
conversation.

Step two: draw Steve out to find his sexual orientation.

Step three: find out if he is in any way attracted to me, not necessarily
sexually at first, but just showing interest enough to sustain a
conversation.

Step four: if by now I can tell that there might be some kind of a chance,
however remote, to get Steve into bed, work on a plan for a second meeting
when I can really draw him out.

Step five: fuck Steve... or get fucked by Steve, whichever comes first!
Better yet, both!  As I watch the tennis set coming to an end, I hurry over
to the terrace café and order a beer. I wait for Steve and his partner
to end their game and head for the showers, which will make them walk by
the terrace café where I am sitting.

Around 50 meters away, as the two men approach, a woman meets them, kisses
Steve's partner on the lips lightly, and chats for a minute or so. Steve's
partner then wraps his arm around the woman's waist and the couple moves
away in the other direction towards the parking lot. I heave a sigh of
relief and I sip my beer, waiting anxiously to see if Steve follows them or
not. He does not. He is heading for the showers and I prepare myself.

As he approaches, a few steps away, with my heart racing, I make it a point
to keep looking at him until I meet his eyes. As soon as our eyes meet, I
smile. He smiles back. My heart is going at Formula One speed.

"That was nice tennis," I comment as he reaches my table.

"Ah," he says, the smile still on his face. I love those lips! "I noticed
that there was an audience of one in the bleachers." Yes! He noticed me. A
regular straight guy wouldn't give a fuck, would he?

We both laugh. I grab my chance and add, "In appreciation for the chance of
watching a very exciting tennis match, may the audience of one offer the
star player a cold drink?"

He pauses for a few seconds; my heart sprints. Then he nods his head and
says, "I was heading for the showers, but a cold drink would be very
nice. Sure, thanks."

As he takes the seat across from me, I motion for the waiter and order a
beer. "Make it very cold, please."

"I'm Steve," he says as he settles in the chair, extending his bare, hairy
legs forward, oh, so invitingly.

"I'm Ed," I respond, and I give up on trying to estimate the speed of my
heart beats. They are way beyond measurement. "I really enjoyed watching
you."

"Hey, thanks, Ed," he smiles. "Nice of you to say so. Do you play also?"

"Oh, no," I say, somewhat apologetically. "I have never had the chance to
learn. But I love the game and the way it is played." I pause for a second
and add, "And the players seem quite fit." I expect him to bolt away at my
declaration, but he stays. Thank you, Jesus.

"Have you ever tried?" he probes.

I am now satisfied in accomplishing step one. I need to go to step two:
check what his orientation is.

"Not really. None of my friends plays well enough to teach me. And I
haven't gotten to the point of taking professional lessons from a
professional player."

"You don't need a professional player to introduce you to the game," he
comments as the waiter places the cold beer in front of him. He takes a
long drink, and places the beer bottle on the table, looking grateful and
satisfied. I make it a point to look at his outstretched, hairy legs and I
say, "But I need to have the body and the legs for this as well, don't I?"

He follows my stare towards his legs, and then looks back at me, placing
one palm on the inside of his thigh. "Legs can be developed. Know what? I
can teach you, if you are willing."

I balk at the sudden proposition and at the way he caresses his thigh. I
conclude that a straight guy would not keep up the conversation in this way
or make such a proposition minutes after he meets another guy. Nor would he
stroke his outstretched thigh, would he? Steve must be interested.

"Hey, bro, I am willing, sure." This is my chance, I'm thinking. "That's
very nice of you to offer." He has this half-smile on his face and he
stretches his long, sexy legs even further. He rearranges his dick and
balls, still looking at me with his half-smile. Oh, man!  "I have an
idea. I haven't showered yet, so maybe since you are willing I can give you
the first lesson now." The half-smile. The rearrangement of equipment. Oh,
double-man!  "Wow," I say, my heart pounding at the prospect. My strategic
steps are moving faster than I have anticipated. But then I realize that I
don't have the appropriate shorts and shirt. "But I am not prepared. I need
to get the proper clothing and tennis racket and stuff."

"I can see that you are willing, but kind of scared?" he states this as a
question.

"And why would I be scared?" I am surprised. But perhaps yes, I do fear the
idea of starting tennis lessons.

"Well, if you aren't, I have some spare clothes and a spare racket you can
use until you get your own gear," he proposes again.

I accept, of course. I follow Steve to the changing lockers where he gives
me a pair of shorts and a polo shirt, smelling clean and, I think, sexy, if
sexy can be a smell. My mind is in overdrive, so is my heart, so is my
whole body, tingling nuts and everything.

Steve looks like an Apollo when compared with me. Don't get me wrong. I am
quite pleasant to look at, but I don't have this sporty, defined body that
tennis and soccer players have. The shorts are a bit tight and I try to
position my dick in a way that would not be too evidently outlined. The
result of my efforts is that I get semi-hard and my dick is definitely
outlined. I cover my crotch with the polo shirt by not tucking it in. I
wear my own sneakers and I'm ready. Steve is watching me. Has he seen me
position my dick? He is wearing this half-smile that, I come to learn
later, that it is an indication of intense interest.

We get to the tennis court. My first lesson is on how to handle the
racket. Steve instructs me about the grip and the forehand and backhand
movements. I feel quite excited about all of this, and in my mind's eye, I
see myself as a sexy and classy and hot tennis player. Does Steve see me in
the same way?

I don't get his explanation at first regarding my body position as I
prepare to make a backhand swipe with the racket. So he stands behind me,
holds my hand around the racket stick with his hand and shows me the
movement. I get so excited at the proximity of his body behind me that
probably in my imagination I feel as if Steve has brushed his crotch
against my butt. Has he? Really? Fuck. I'm crazed with imagination.

It gets pretty warm and we both are sweating. Steve suggests that we take a
break. We sit on the hot grass and take off our polo shirts. My god, the
guy is sexy. He has a thick patch of hair in the middle of his chest, and
his nipples stand out, also encircled by some curly hair. Then the hair
trails down nicely southwards. I love his abs and the six pack of his
stomach. He looks so enticing and I quiver with lust for him. I notice that
he is looking me over as well. Shit! I am in no way in such a good shape as
he is. I have a similar patch of hair and trail but I lack the defined abs.

The half-smile returns to his face and without flicking an eyelid, he says
to me, "Do you like what you are looking at?"

I am taken by surprise, and it takes me a few seconds before I realize that
he is probably making a pass at me. Could this be possible? I meet his
stare squarely and decide to come right out.

"Very," my voice comes out a bit hoarse. I clear my throat and follow with,
"sexy!"

His eyes widen. Very slowly he moves his hand, and he surreptitiously and
lightly rubs my inner thigh, caressing the hair and skin, but only for
maybe two seconds or so. My whole body shivers.

Fuck me! I have just scored! What can I say? At this moment I am just
elated. We both look around guiltily, checking to see if we have been
spotted. No one is around. Steve still wears his half-smile and I melt. My
cock hardens and outlines my crotch too evidently.

"Ed," Steve smirks as he sees my bulge. "I think you are more ready for a
different kind of sport than tennis."

I smile and tease, "Well, Steve, tennis is fine with me, but, hey, I am
open to other ideas."

"With what you seem to have between your legs there, my man, I don't
suppose you are much interested in swinging a racket, huh?"

I laugh. He is right. My bulge is quite telling, so is his. He has also
developed an erection. Yes! He's mine.

"Tell you what, Steve," I suggest. "This is too much in the open and I
don't think I want to be embarrassed. Let's change into more decent
clothing and get a drink or something."

Steve agrees. "But let me shower first," he says as we get up, trying our
best to adjust our erections so as not to show too much. The polo shirts
help.

"Yea, I need a shower also," I say, with a lot of anticipation.

He looks at me, half smiles, and leads the way to the showers.

I can't wait to see Steve naked and wet. Five minutes later, there he is,
naked and wet. I feel I can't even breathe as my eyes roam over his
beautiful body. I erect instantly. Steve notices, moves towards me from
under his shower head, kneels, and takes me in his mouth. I arch my back
and moan as the two fire-hot lips wrap around my cut mushroomed cock head.

"Oh, fuck, yes." I moan, guiding his head onto my dick. Before long, Steve
is swallowing all my 20 centimeters (8 inches) of hard meat. I fuck his
face. When I shoot my load, he takes it all, and I can easily claim that it
is one of my biggest loads. I don't seem to stop squirting down his sweet
throat as he gulps hungrily.

He gets off my dick, cum covering his mouth and we kiss as I reach for his
erection and grab it. He is not big. His dick is an average 16 centimeters
(6 inches) uncut size. But his hot body more than makes up for the size of
his dick. Slowly, I lick down his hot hairy and wet chest to his thick bush
and I service him.

He also shoots in my mouth, and it is an impressive load, making me choke
on the thick squirts.

We shower, get dressed, and leave for the bar. It is too early in the
afternoon for hard liquor, so we settle for beer. As we chat I become more
attracted to him. He has a great sense of humor and is very smart,
intellectually. I love this quality in my partners. It is very satisfying
to be able to hold a decent conversation with someone who has just
swallowed your sperm after sucking your cock.

We spend almost an hour without realizing the passage of time. We connect
beautifully, and I can't keep my eyes off his hot body as I try to
concentrate on the conversation. He is in interior decoration. I am in
manuscript editing. Even when we are conversing, I develop an erection for
him.

We make two dates: one for this evening at his place where he has offered
to cook dinner. He wouldn't tell me what kind of food he plans to serve,
but I look forward to the kind of food I will get after dinner in bed. The
second date is for tomorrow afternoon for a tennis lesson. I am also
looking forward to this, when I will be in close proximity to his hot body
out in public without raising any suspicions.

I drive over to his place after stopping for some wine. I don't know what
he is preparing for dinner, so I get one chilled bottle of white Chardonnay
and another of red merlot. For some reason I feel I need to impress
Steve. I admit he is impressed by my dick, but that is animalistic, and
besides I have had nothing to do with my dick size. Or maybe my very
frequent pulling on it and jerking off since I was eleven years old has
helped? Anyway, I needed to do something classy, like choosing the right
wine. I think that is classy. I hope I have chosen correctly and that Steve
approves. If he doesn't, then fuck him. I will fuck him anyway-just a joke!
He opens the door and my eyes grow wide to see him standing there, naked,
with only an apron on.

His nipples peek on both sides of the apron, his bare legs show sexily all
the way down to his bare feet.

And the pronounced bulge in the middle is breathtaking. He laughs at the
expression on my face.

"This is not the surprise, Eddie," he teases as he ushers me in. "Ah, what
have you gotten us?" he eyes the bag I'm carrying.

"Just something to enhance our romantic dinner," I smile.

He takes the bag with one hand and closes the door behind me with the
other, pressing his crotch at my hip. My body quivers. Still pressing on
me, he looks into the bag and takes out the bottles.

"Ed, you surprise me," he looks at me with somewhat of an astonished
gaze. He's so fucking cute I could eat him right there and then.

"I do?" I try to control my voice so it doesn't betray my lust for him.

"How did you know?" he asks looking at the labels on the wine bottles.

"How did I know what?" I ask.

He kisses me full on the lips, probing his tongue into my mouth as I wrap
my arm around his waist and run my hand down to his firm, bare butt,
feeling his bulging erection against my hip.

"You'll see in a minute," he says as he walks into the kitchen. I follow
him, watching his bare butt cheeks and really wanting to kneel and spread
them and lick inside the hot crack. I am fully erect by now. He puts the
bottle of Chardonnay in the fridge to keep it cool and gets the corkscrew
to open the merlot.

"White is to be served chilled and red should be left to breathe," he
instructs as he sniffs at the bottle cork. I can't help myself. I grab him
from behind, wrapping my arms around his waist and gluing my front body to
his back, my erection prodding his butt through my jeans.

"And you will be served to me raw and hot," I whisper in his ear.

I grind on him, licking the nape of his neck and fondling his exposed
nipples. He moans and grinds back at me, turning his face sideways so that
I could reach his lips with mine. We kiss, tonguing each other and I am
about to shoot a load in my jeans.

"Fuck, you are hot, Steve," I breathe deeply as I break away from him,
regretfully. He turns around, the apron tenting in front of him, so
inviting, so fucking sexy, and he has his half-smile on. I melt. I know if
I grab him again, I will not be able to stop myself from ravishing his ass
right there on the kitchen floor.

But this is exactly what I do; I just can't resist the urge to have him. I
pull him to me, tearing away his apron. He is totally naked and his dick is
hard. Although not too big, Steve's cock erects beautifully, curved a
little to the left and at an upward angle.

"I want you Steve, now, here, I want to fuck you, baby," I moan as I tear
off my shirt and pull down my jeans. I push him onto the counter and lean
over him, our cocks plastered on each other, and I kiss him roughly,
insistently, throbbing on his body. His legs are spread and I am standing
between them, feeling his thighs pressing on my hips. His moans come out
deep and loud. I raise his legs and make him wrap them around my waist as I
lube his ass with some spit. Then I enter him. My God! He is very tight and
he grips my cock head like a vice. With one hard thrust I am fully buried
into him. My cock shaft stretches his rim muscle and he squeezes it around
the base of my cock as I thrust all the way into him.

Swiftly, urgently, I pound his hole. I drive deep and fast. I am so horny
that I cannot bear any wasted time in making out. That will come later. Now
my nuts are aching with my load, and as I explode inside him, I feel myself
being siphoned into him. My load is huge. My back is arched as I squirt
inside him and as he pinches my nipples, throwing his head back with lust
and exposing his bare neck for me. I kiss and bite his exposed neck as my
cock fills his body with hot sperm. Trying to come back to earth from the
heaven I am in, I look down at Steve's body. I am amazed to see his chest
covered with cum. I have fucked him bare and shot my full load into his
belly, but I haven't touched his dick and both his hands are fondling my
nipples and my chest hair as I fuck him. Wow! Steve has shot a load just by
being fucked.

When I pull out, he cries out with lust, squeezing my nipples hard. My cock
drips onto the kitchen floor. I am already sweaty with the exertion of hard
fucking. Steve hangs both his legs down the counter, his dick now limp over
his balls and glistening with his own cum. He doesn't move but gazes at me
with hot intensity.

"Eddie," he finally manages to mumble, "that was the fastest, hottest,
fullest fucking sex I have ever had."

"Stevie," I respond, "I have to agree."

"But we still have to eat," he jumps limply off the counter and starts
moving around getting plates and cutlery and stuff, naked. His thighs
squish with my cum as it trickles from of his hole down his legs. He seems
not to care, but this turns me on like hell. However, I pull up my jeans
but stay without a shirt, watching, wondering how I have been able to hook
this hot guy. It has happened so fast. Only this noon, a few hours ago, I
was sitting and watching Steve play tennis and was plotting how I was going
to get him spread his sexy thighs for me. And now, I have just given him
the first fuck, out of many to come.

I sit at the small kitchen table as Steve places two plates of smoked
salmon with slices of lemon and capers. He opens the Chardonnay and we sip
the chilled white wine. The salmon is delicious. I suddenly realize how
hungry I am. I have been preoccupied with sex, but now my stomach grumbles
as I chew down the first bite. I am sitting in nude torso and jeans, and
Steve is back in his sexy apron, his adorable nipples showing.

"Boy," I say with appreciation. "This is really good, Steve. You are a
fantastic chef as well as a hot fuck."

He laughs at my double compliment and we finish the salmon. He gets up and
removes the plates and wine glasses. He brings back from the oven two
plates with large chunks of steak and vegetables, which he has left there
to keep warm. The smell is out of this world.

"I hope you eat meat," he says as he places my plate on the table in front
of me.

I smile and say, "Steve, baby, I love eating meat, both the steak and the
one between your legs."

He laughs and grabs his crotch saying, "You will, Eddie. Believe me. I will
feed you this until you are fully content."

"Mmmm," I say, my mouth already watering. "Looks and smells heavenly," I
smile at him as he pours out the red merlot.

"White with white and red with red," he says enigmatically. "How did you
know?"

"Huh?" I don't get the point and I feel a little put out.

"White wine with white meat, fish," he explains. "Red wine with red meant,
steak. How did you know I was going to serve both so you get white and red
wine?"

"Oh," I respond. I can't tell him that I brought both because I had no idea
what to get. So I just smile knowingly at him.

"Bastard," he smiles back. "You didn't know, did you?"

"All I know, baby," I evade, "is that you are the hottest dude I have ever
been with. And that I am so lucky at this moment to be sitting here,
regardless of any stupid wine."

His look tells me that he is on to me in my evasion. But he diplomatically
says, "What's more, you knew that Chardonnay and merlot are my favorites."

"And what about me? Am I also your favorite, Steve?" My eyes bore into his
face, anxiously waiting for his reaction.

"Eddie," he mumbles, looking down at his plate, apparently embarrassed,
"judging from the few hours since we met, you are the best thing that ever
came into my life. Don't laugh. It's true. Weird but true."

"Weird?" I ask.

"Yes, weird, Eddie," he raises his eyes and looks at me. "I have had a few
partners, but never, ever, has any relationship started as intense and as
fast as now. I clicked onto you the second I noticed you watching me play
as you sat in the bleachers. For Christ's sake, man, you made me cum
without even touching my dick!"

Holy fuck, I think. He wanted me even as I was contemplating how I would
win him over.

"Wow," I try to control my breathing. My cock stirs inside my jeans. "Can
we skip dessert, baby?"

"Skip dessert?" he asks astonished.

"Yes. I have your dessert right here inside my jeans and it really wants
you." I stand up, bulging, walk around the table and pull him off his
chair. I kiss him, tasting the fish and the meat and the wine and the hot
sexy Steve-taste. "Let's make love, baby," I say into his ear as I nibble
on the lobe.

We move to the couch, holding each other. In seconds we get rid of the
apron and the jeans. He pushes me down on the couch and kneels between my
thighs. He starts licking up my legs down the inside of my hairy thighs to
my balls. He moves his tongue around my fully erected cock and continues
licking up my chest, to the nipples and the neck until he finds my
mouth. He presses his hot, sexy body on mine and we kiss passionately. Then
he starts licking down following back the track he has licked up. When he
reaches my cock, he covers it with kisses and tongue flicks. I shiver all
over, and my hard dick bounces and quivers with desire. I throw my head
back and moan and buck. He licks down the underside of my shaft to the
balls. He takes them between his lips and sucks on the sack. I am beyond
shivering, and I instinctively reach down to stroke my hardness. He pushes
my hand away and moves back up to my cock.

When he wraps his sweet lips around the head, I feel that I am floating in
space. Slowly, he goes down the shaft. His lips are pursed tight around my
cock. He takes around half of the length then moves back to the head,
swirling his tongue around it. I look down and watch him making love to my
dick. I play with his hair and he moans in response. Then he opens his lips
wide and brings his face down onto my cock shaft, swallowing the whole
length in one steady move. He reaches the base and wraps his lips around it
tightly. I feel his hot breath blowing into my pubes. My cockhead is
getting squeezed by his throat as he gulps and slobbers. I have to stop
him. I don't want to shoot my load yet.

"Steve, easy, man" I moan. "I don't want to cum now, baby."

He quits his sucking and lies next to me, sideways, pressing his hard dick
on my hip and rubbing up and down. His cock is uncut, and it rubs in and
out of the foreskin easily.

We kiss. Slowly, I turn him around and spoon him, my cock pressed on the
small of his back, throbbing and pulsating with lust, slick with his
spit. He reaches his hand back and rubs my side up and down, from my hip to
my arm pit, as I work the side of his neck and his ear with my tongue.

With the other hand, he reaches for the lube tube and rubs some into his
crack and hole and some more on my dick. He fists the shaft of my cock and
guides the head towards his hole as he lifts one leg up. When I penetrate,
he cries out and pushes back onto me. To be truthful, my cock size is
pretty impressive. I wonder at the ease I can penetrate Steve's hole, first
in the kitchen and now here on the couch. It's not that Steve has a loose
hole. It is more related to how relaxed he is. It is easier now with the
lube than before with just my spit.

I slide all the way inside and begin my fucking thrusts instantly. He
writhes and moans as he meets my thrusts. Again, I am so excited by him
riding my cock that I don't bother with all the foreplay and stuff.

With other partners, I would still as soon as my cock head penetrate and
wait until my partner relaxes and gets used to my thickness and
hardness. But with Steve, it comes so naturally, so fantastically right and
fit.

My hand massages his butt and I drive harder. Reaching around his body I
grab his hard dick and stroke him. I am still pounding his hole when I feel
his jizz shooting into my palm. His breathing comes out shallow and quick
and I feel his rim muscle squeezing on my cock shaft with every spurt of
his. This immediately brings me to the edge and I fill him with my
sperm. My load is unbelievingly bigger than the first one in the kitchen. I
don't seem to finish squirting into his belly. My cock is very slick with
the lube and cum as I keep on fucking him.

Finally, I still and flex. He squeezes in response. We remain like this for
a while until our bodies settle back to normal. I am still inside him, my
hand sticky with his cum. He brings my hand up to his mouth and licks off
the juice, and then turns his head to me and I suck his juice off his
tongue. Fuck, he is so exciting. I have tasted my own cum before, of
course, and I have had my share of other men's sperm as well. But nothing
tastes as sweet as Steve's. Mine is a bit salty, while most others are sort
of bland.

Steve's cream is actually sweet!  When I pull out of him I feel such
emptiness inside me. I hold him tight and kiss and lick him. I just don't
want to let go. He moans in pleasure. We move to the shower and we wash
each other's bodies.

It is intoxicating touching his body, his skin, his beautiful
form. Needless to say, we both erect. We stroke each other, running soap
all over our dicks and balls. I turn him around and wash his ass off, all
the lube and the cum. We don't suck or fuck but we enjoy each other's
excitedness. We towel off and walk out of the shower to the living room,
naked and erect.

We spend the evening making out on the couch. The way we discover each
other's bodies is so erotic that by the time we move to the bedroom our
cocks are hurting from being so hard for so long. We are both more than
ready to make love. In bed, we resume the kissing and caressing. I am less
eager to fuck than when I first did him in the kitchen or later on the
couch after dinner, but in no way less passionate. To say the truth, I am
more lustful, and the delay has increased my need for him. He tastes so
heavenly. He moans and responds to my love making in such an adorable way
that my heart melts.

Our love making comes naturally, nothing affected. When Steve moves on top
of me and slides his hard dick under my balls and up my crack, I realize
that he is not what I presumed him to be, a bottom.

He wants to fuck, too. This excites even more. I love it when my partner
doesn't stick to roles but goes natural, giving and taking in all
forms. Steve moves his dick in and out of my crack, pressing on my hole
each time he finds it with his cock head, as I lie on my back ready to take
him in.

Steve fucks me. His cock size helps me enjoy being fucked since I have a
tight hole and I'm not used to being probed a lot. As a "top," I find it
surprising how sweet I feel when receiving his hard cock into my
body. Usually, I take being fucked as best I can but not enjoy it as much
as when I do the fucking. I do get sensations, but they are mostly from
watching my partner thrusting and sweating on top of me rather than from
the cock massage I get in my hole.

Steve, however, is sweet in his fucking. He goes slow and long. As soon as
he penetrates me, he bends over and kisses me, making gentle short thrusts
so as not to hurt me. Every time I squeeze my hole, he stills, and then he
slowly resumes his short thrusts. I feel more cock entering me with every
push, and his kissing makes me relax and suck his cock deeper into me. We
fuck like that for what seems like long delicious hours, moving together,
really making hot love. I am enjoying the feel of his hardness as he goes
in and out of my ass.

I wonder: we are both men and are expected to be macho and rough, but our
fucking is so gentle and sweet. He cums inside me with shudders and moans
and grunts. I feel his sperm filling me. I am also quite close, but I can
never shoot my load with a cock up my ass. Slowly, he withdraws, his dick
dripping man-juice onto my balls and pubes. Then he starts working my dick
with his mouth. In no time, I am ready to blow. I shoot into his throat and
he swallows it all.

We rest for awhile until our panting slows down, then we fuck some more;
no, we make love throughout the night. He fucks me once more, doggy style,
and I can't remember the times I have spilled my sperm inside him. By early
morning, we are so spent-my ass so sore-that we both fall into deep
sleep. Around ten o'clock in the morning, I open my eyes to Steve's arm
thrown over my chest and one of his legs across my thigh, almost touching
my balls. I close my eyes contentedly and drift back to sleep with a sigh.

I stir at the feeling of something warm and wet between my thighs. I open
my eyes to see Steve straddling my legs and shooting his cum on me. I erect
instantly. As his squirts hit my thighs and balls, I stroke my cock
crazily, feeling the load building up in my balls. Before I start shooting,
Steve takes me in his mouth and swallows to the base. Then he starts to
swallow the sperm that I instantly shoot down his throat. His dick is still
dripping cum when he gets off me.

"Bastard," I say as I sit up and slap his butt. "You were starting without
me."

"I needed my morning juice although it's past noon. And you looked so
delicious. I cummed just by looking at your sleeping face. Thanks for
feeding me my juice so fast."

"So now I'm your sleeping beauty, huh? And your juice maker?"

"Get up, fucker boy, and let's have some real breakfast. We need to get
ready for your tennis lesson."

"But," I complain, "won't we be too full to do any sport after we eat?"

"Not if we fuck," he says as we move to the kitchen and starts on the bacon
and eggs. I hug him from behind. He is so insatiable, not that I am
complaining. On the contrary: I want him as much, if not more.

I want us to stay inside each other forever.

"You know, Steve?" I grind on him; we are both naked. "I will fuck you and
fuck you and fuck you until you have had your fill of me."

"And that will be never?" he smirks as if reading my mind. He is definitely
feeling my hard erection on his butt.

And yes, we fuck again in the kitchen as the coffee is brewing and the
bacon is sizzling and the eggs are frying. And yes, I fill him with my
juice. I can never get tired of him and it hasn't been 24 hours since we
met. We both have had designs on each other, true, but I can't believe how
fast things have moved. I can easily say that up till now, Steve has been
my best fuck.

For the following two weeks, Steve teaches me how to play tennis every
afternoon, including weekends. And for the following two weeks, we
experience the most beautiful sex of our lives, every evening and night,
especially in the weekends. I move some of my stuff into his place since my
apartment is much smaller. So we are practically living together like a
couple. We shop and cook and make love. The only time we abstain is between
10 and 12 before noon when the cleaning lady comes in.

Work? Tomorrow is the last day of the vacation we have both requested and
have gotten. I wonder how my working days away from Steve are going to be.
But I know for sure how our evenings and nights are going to be.