Date: Sat, 04 Nov 2006 12:28:11 -0700
From: Avy MacGregor <avymac@hotmail.com>
Subject: Jake's Cowboy Part 15

DISCLAIMER: You are about to read a story that is strictly FAN FICTION and
in no way represents true accounts. I do not - nor do I wish to imply that -
I know Jake Gyllenhaal, his private life or his sexual preferences. This is
also true of all other celebrities represented in this story. This is a work
of fiction based in homo-eroticism, so if you are not of legal age, or if
this type of content might offend you, please move onto something else.

For everyone else - ENJOY!

(And all rights are reserved, so please don't post this story or any part of
it anywhere without asking me first. Thanks.)
--------------------------------------------------------------------
As always, I continue to post sneak peeks on my group page and provide
updates and info on Jake stories:
http://groups.msn.com/TheGyllenhaalChronicles/_whatsnew

Drop me a line @ avymac@hotmail.com Share your thoughts or just say hi. You
can catch me online: same MSN name.

Thanks to the all of the regulars (and the newbies) for continued support
despite the length of time it's taking me to get new chapters out. I've said
it before, but I'll say it again: I've got more in store for Travis and
Jake, so stick with me!

Now, unto PART 15 . . .
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	The girls were in their bra and panties, while Austin was clad in only his
boxers. I lay comfortably sprawled on a poolside lounge chair, finishing off
a beer, half-expecting to see Austin's dick every time he hoisted himself up
out of the pool, the waistband of his underwear traveling farther and
farther down on his hips with each passing moment.
	Although Jake and I had both joined in on the pool activities earlier, I
now sat on the sidelines, observing the interaction between the four of them
- the girls getting drunk off martinis while Austin flirted with everyone,
including Jake it seemed, his testosterone level sky-high, his hands
lingering, his comments drenched in innuendos.
	"He's a good guy," Jake had initially informed as I'd stood watching him
mix the martinis in the kitchen. "A talented actor."
	"I'm sure he is," I'd responded. But my enthusiasm had been lacking.
	Austin was fairly good-looking. Stood tall, with brown hair and deep-set
eyes, a nice, tight body, hairless chest and broad shoulders. But beneath
the thin façade of good looks, jokes and sexual prowess, he seemed devoid of
any true character to me. Floundering, as if searching for something, or
someone, to latch onto. Not someone I would particularly care to get to
know, but would tolerate for Jake's sake.
	It had been a long day for me; the traveling, the time zone difference, the
excitement of being with Jake starting to take its toll. The beer wasn't
helping much either, only adding to my fatigued condition. My eyelids grew
heavy as I slowly began to doze off, the lounge chair more than suitable for
a bed, the towel under my neck perfect for a pillow. The atmosphere
surrounding me gradually faded away, all noise of the pool party
dissipating, everything turning dull and hazy while my mind drifted off into
slumber.
	Yet no sooner had my eyelids closed than Jake was suddenly standing near,
his hair and body dripping wet as he stood above me, cold drops of moisture
falling down onto my exposed skin. Yanking me up by my wrists and bringing
me to my feet, he exclaimed, "Hot tub time!" pulling me across the pavement,
not waiting to hear a response from me.
	Before I knew it, I was sliding down into the steaming jets of hot water, a
million soothing bubbles massaging my tired skin. It felt better than a
bath. Better than anything else in the world at that moment. I was
disappointed that Jake and I hadn't indulged in it earlier before the
entourage had arrived. Wished, yet again, that we'd been afforded more time
alone.
	The initial enjoyment of being in the hot tub quickly ended as Melissa -
one of the girls, with long blonde hair and a matching set of black lace bra
and panties on - slithered in beside me, practically sitting on my lap,
giggling when my hand accidentally brushed against her ass.
	"Sorry," I mumbled, gently pushing her away.
	"It's no problem," she crooned, her inebriation obvious, her movements
unbalanced as she attempted to steady herself on the bench beside me.
	Austin toppled in across from me, as intoxicated and unbalanced as his
counterparts, his toes briefly touching mine before he snaked his legs away,
the other girl snuggled up in his arms. I was taken aback by the sudden
flash of dislike that crossed his face as he glared at me - no words spoken
nor needed for me to understand that he loathed my presence there. An
element which for some reason I hadn't noticed earlier.
	The girl who was cuddled with him wore a pink satin bra and g-string, her
long manicured fingernails running across Austin's chest as her eyes raked
over me suggestively, her mouth curved up in a surreptitious smile. I felt
nothing for her - had never felt anything for girls, even when I'd awkwardly
fucked a few in high school.
	And at that moment, I thought to myself - the second anyone's underwear
starts coming off, I'm out of here . . .
	Jake slid in beside me, his hand immediately finding mine under the
bubbles, fingers squeezing fingers. I looked over at him, and he smiled
broadly and mumbled, "Welcome to your first hot tub party, Cooper."
	To which I calmly replied, "This isn't my first hot tub party," refraining
the urge to add: just my first hot tub party with half-naked females
present.
	Melissa giggled flirtatiously, moving in closer, her proximity stifling me.
Then she did the most unexpected thing ever: straddled her body across mine,
purposely brushing her breasts against my arms and chest, and reached over
to kiss Jake on the lips. It was a brief peck, barely a kiss at all, but it
startled the shit out of me, and after she'd completed her task with him,
she proceeded to do the same thing with me, her thin lips soft and smooth
and all wrong, her long, wet hair brushing annoyingly against my shoulders.
	And suddenly I noticed that Austin and his tramp were all over each other,
the girl's petite frame sitting on his lap while his hands started to
unclasp her bra, their mouths connected together in a long kiss while his
eyes darted between Jake and me as if searching for either approval or
disdain.
	I pulled my fingers from Jake's grasp and, without uttering a single word,
climbed out and walked with dripping wet swim trunks over to the lounge
chairs to grab a towel.
	"Travis . . ." Jake called, stretching an arm out in my direction as if
hoping to reel me back over.
	"I'm tired," I stated as I ran the towel down my legs.
	He muttered something to the group and then got out, leaving Melissa
visibly disappointed.
	As he approached me, I immediately whispered, "This is fucking bullshit,
Jake," my hands now scraping the towel over my skin, my anger evident in my
voice and in my body language.
	"I know," he said quietly. "I'm sorry. I'll get rid of them."
	I glared at him. Harder than I realized. "Is this how you typically spend
time with your friends? Orgies in the hot tub?"
	His jaw tightened as he fought back shivers, his bare skin cold after the
warmth of the hot tub, goose bumps visible even in the dim lighting from the
pool lights. "Don't be ridiculous," he said.
	"Why are they even here at all?" I was trying to keep my voice lowered, but
it was difficult.
	"I told you that I didn't know they were coming," he replied. "Austin just
. . . arrives unexpectedly a lot."
	"With girls in tow?"
	Jake's eyes flickered with irritation as his brows furrowed. Leaning in
closer, he whispered, "He doesn't know, Travis."
	I felt my blood boil. "Apparently no one does." Without further comment, I
draped the towel around my neck and went into the house, hearing Jake's
voice calling after me, "Wait . . . Travis . . . shit . . ."
	And then Austin saying, "Let him go sleep," which only further added to my
aggravation.
	I left a trail of wet footprints as I headed upstairs, my swim trunks heavy
around my waist, my skin chilled. Upon reaching Jake's bedroom, I swiftly
shut my suitcase and headed into a neighboring guest room, tossing my things
on the bed before retreating into the bathroom for a quick shower. When I
finished, I exited with a towel wrapped around my waist, hoping - wishing -
to find Jake there waiting for me, apologies pouring from his lips.
	But he wasn't there. It was just the empty room, immaculate and
suffocating. A sterile existence. I swiftly dressed in sweatpants and a
t-shirt, then paced the upper hallway for a moment, debating my current
options: pack up my things and call a cab; pull Jake out of the hot tub and
demand that he send everyone home; or go to bed and deal with none of it
until morning. Although the latter sounded the most appealing to me - and
the easiest - I knew that realistically I'd never be able to sleep until
there was some sort of resolution.
	Returning to my duffle bag, I dug around until I found the cigarettes I'd
hidden inside. Then I stepped into Jake's bedroom and quietly moved out onto
the balcony - hoping to spy on the activities below, anxious to eavesdrop on
the conversation, feeling immature and ridiculous by the need to know what
was happening down there.
	But no one was in the hot tub.
	No one was anywhere. Just the dogs asleep on the flagstone.
	I shoved the cigarette and lighter into my pocket and headed downstairs,
listening for voices, following the distant sound of conversation until I
was at the partially-opened front door. Without stepping outside, I heard
Jake say, "I'll call you later..."
	And Austin reply with, "Come to the club."
	"I'll see," Jake replied.
	"All right buddy . . . Have a good night then."
	There was the slamming of car doors and an engine starting. I peeked around
the door to see the BMW heading out of the front gate. As I stepped outside,
Jake turned to look at me.
	"Hope they didn't leave on my account," I said, unable to contain the
bitterness in my voice.
	Jake sighed and stepped closer to me. "I asked them to leave," he said.
"Should never have let them stay to begin with." Then, grabbing a hold of my
hands and pulling me forward, he added, "I'm sorry."
	As he enfolded me in his arms, hugging me close, his damp hair pressed
against my ear, his heart beat evident against my own, it was tempting to
let it all go.
	But for some reason, I couldn't.
	Stepping back, I said, "Jake . . . I hope my coming here wasn't a mistake."
	His mouth turned down in a frown as his eyes imploringly searched mine.
"Don't be ridiculous, Travis," he said quietly.
	"I'm not prepared to be your closet fantasy," I stated. "Your little secret
fuck buddy."
	The feeling was strong. I was surprised at just how strong. Although I'd
known from the very beginning that our relationship, at least initially,
would have to remain clandestine, I now needed some sort of reassurance that
it wasn't always going to be that way.
	"You're not my secret fuck buddy," Jake insisted, grabbing for my hands
again, trying to coax me back to him.
	"Then why the hot tub orgy?" I questioned. "Why let that girl kiss you -
and me - and say nothing? I can't pretend to be straight the entire time I'm
here, Gyllenhaal. If that's what's expected of me, then you'd better just
take me back to the airport right now."
	Jake's expression faltered as he released my hands. Stepping back, he said,
"What were you expecting, Travis?" His voice was stern, his lips thin. "That
I'd introduce you as my boyfriend to everyone right off the bat? Exclaim my
homosexuality to the entire world?"
	I crossed my arms, lifted my chin, and replied, "Yes," knowing that it was
ridiculous, knowing that I was being unfair.
	We had a brief yet powerful staring contest, neither of us willing to let
our guard down, the night air stifling all around us.
	And then Jake muttered, "I can't do that, Travis."
	An eternity seemed to pass, the world sucked up into a vacuum, time
standing still.
	Eventually, I sighed and turned away from him, my resistance spent. Near
the front entrance there was a concrete bench surrounded by blooming
rhododendron bushes. I plunked down on it to light the cigarette I still had
and took a long drag on it before blowing the smoke out above my head.
	"You know," I said after a moment, staring off into the star-filled sky. "I
thought for sure I'd have quit smoking by now. But one thing always seems to
lead to another, and I can't ever do it."
	Jake stepped forward and plucked the cigarette from my fingers. Snuffing it
out against the bench, he flicked it to the driveway.  Then he stood before
me, straddling his legs over mine, and looked down into my face. "Let's not
do this," he whispered, reaching out a hand to touch my face, his thumb
tracing a line down my cheek.
	I peered up at him. He was still dressed in his Hawaiian-print board
shorts, his bare chest exposed before me, my urge to lean forward and kiss
his skin powerful. He leaned down and touched his lips to mine, the
moistness, the warmth, the scent of chlorine stimulating my senses.  I
gripped his waist, pressing my fingers into his skin, feeling his muscles
flex. I pulled him down onto my lap, and he wrapped his arms around my
shoulders, his tongue slithering into my mouth, his damp shorts rubbing
against my groin.
	I ran my hands up the length of his back, digging my fingers into his
spine, needing to bring him in closer to me. As we kissed, the electricity
of our union turned powerful and all-consuming, a combination of lust and
shame and frustration dangerously clouding my mind. Blinding me. Without
warning or clear thought, I suddenly took a fistful of his hair and pushed
him down from my lap, forcing him to kneel between my legs, bringing his
face into my groin, pulling my cock from my sweatpants.
	Without skipping a single beat, his hand eagerly gripped the base of my
shaft, his tongue darting out to lick across my piss-slit as he whispered,
"Fuck, not even any goddamn underwear . . ."
	But I didn't allow him to speak. Pushing his hand away, I forced his head
down farther until I was completely engulfed in his mouth. I ignored his
gagging and his attempt to pull away, my lust blinding, my sensibility
replaced by some sort of temporary insanity.
	With fingers like daggers, Jake dug into my thighs, resisting me, trying to
break free of my hold. When eventually he succeeded, he fell back on his
haunches, coughing and sputtering and wiping the saliva from his mouth with
the back of his hand, his eyes glazed over as he peered up at me.
	Before he could say anything, I stuffed my cock back into my pants and
abruptly retreated into the house, my heart racing, my head spinning with
the realization that I'd overstepped my boundaries. It was as if I'd been
momentarily possessed by a foreign entity, needing to prove that I was in
control of a situation that wasn't in need of my control.
	I crossed through the living room and noticed the dogs waiting at the
sliding glass door, anxious to enter. I ignored them and headed for the
stairs, only getting halfway up before hands tightly gripped my ankle,
yanking my foot out from under me. I went sprawling forward, smacking my
hand against the wood as I braced myself for the fall.
	Jake moved quickly, strong hands grabbing as he slithered his way on top of
me, the weight of his body crushing me against the steps. Low grunts escaped
his lips as he straddled me, his face coming in close as he whispered into
my ear, "Where do you think you're goin', cowboy?"
	He'd liked the rough play, that much was obvious; I could feel his erection
poking through his board shorts, pressing into my arm, hard as a rock.
	But at that moment, the arousal wasn't mutual. I struggled beneath him, my
head starting to cloud over as his fingers wrenched at my hair. He yanked my
head back and licked his tongue up the length of my cheek, his knees holding
me tight and motionless.
	"Don't . . ." I panted, my lungs crushed, my heart pounding.
	But he ignored my request, running a hand down the waistband of my
sweatpants, grabbing my buttocks and groping me, his breath heavy in my ear,
his fingers searching for entrance to a place I didn't want him to be. As he
continued his pretend assault, I struggled to maintain my self-control. Held
captive beneath him - being constrained, being probed - it was becoming too
much for me; I fell into sensation overload, panic sweeping through me, the
past crashing forward, images of Boston and Eric filling my head, bringing
with it a taste of bile in my mouth.
	I could hear Eric's voice, clear as a bell, as if it had been only
yesterday, not eight months ago, when my whole life had so drastically
changed. "Fucking hold him still." Words spoken while arms and legs had
tackled me, restraining me on the king-size bed. There had been remnants of
cocaine on the nightstand, a porno film flickering in the corner.
	Then Seth's husky voice bellowing, "I'm trying to hold him still . . .
Fucking frisky, this one."
  	Fingers had encircled my neck, preventing me from speaking, practically
choking me. Then there'd been the removal of clothes, hands groping, bodies
everywhere, all over me, skin on skin, grunts and groans filling my ears, my
protests futile, knees jabbing into my chest.
	"Calm the fuck down, Travis." It had been Eric's voice again, closer to me,
his breath hot against my cheek. Then his cock had appeared at my mouth,
demanding space, spewing urine.
	Everything had become a blur, then. Beyond recognition. The whole world
flipped sideways. By the time fingers had found their way inside me and
cocks had been shoved into my mouth, my mind had turned numb, incapable of
conscious thought. It wasn't until Eric's command of, "Fucking take him,
boys, treat him like the whore he is," had resounded in my ears like gunfire
that I'd whiplashed back into reality, the words cutting into me like
knives, slicing me down to the point of non-existence. It hadn't mattered
what transpired next - the fucking, the fisting, the pain, the humiliation,
the de-humanization - I'd comprehended nothing but the earth-shattering
realization that the man who'd claimed to love me had become a completely
unrecognizable person. A vicious and vile creature . . .
	Jake's breath was like fire on my skin, burning hot, his fingers
uncomfortably jabbing at my sphincter, the weight of his body crushing me,
the angle of the stairs piercing my ribs. With one swing, I pushed him off
of me, screaming, "Fuck!" the need to be free beyond imaginable, an
indescribable strength overtaking me.
	Jake fell back a few steps, tripping over his feet, gripping the railing
for support, his eyes wide as he stared at me in disbelief and confusion.
"Travis . . ." he uttered.
	I'd lost it. Completely lost it. Slunking down on the top step, I braced my
elbows on my knees and ran my hands over my face, sucking in my breath,
trying to regain control, a maelstrom swirling through my mind in tidal
waves. No matter what, Boston continued to shadow me, like a black cloud.
	The house stood quiet and calm except for Atticus and Boo barking at the
back door. After a moment, Jake approached me - gingerly, quietly, dropping
down beside me to slide an arm across my shoulders. He said nothing, just
sat there, peering at me, offering me unspoken comfort and support when I
was the least deserving of it.
	And at that moment, I realized that the love I so vehemently feared had
slammed full-force into me. Undeniable. Unstoppable. No matter how obstinate
I'd tried to be.
	I rubbed my palms together and stared off into space. I couldn't bring
myself to face Jake; couldn't think of how to explain my schizophrenic
behavior; felt as wretched as I had in Aspen, only worse because of the
extreme intensity of the moment.
	The dogs continued barking, claws scraping, tongues leaving thick streaks
of saliva on the glass door. Jake ignored them for as long as could, but
eventually their barking and yowling intensified, steadily rising in pitch
and annoyance until he was finally forced to deal with it. Cursing, he stood
up and said, "I'll be right back," his bare feet thudding down the steps.
	I watched as he crossed the living room to slide the heavy glass door open,
allowing passage to the animals who scampered inside, running wild around
his legs. He commanded them to settle down and then headed into the kitchen,
raising a finger to me before he disappeared from the room, the dogs fast at
his heels.
	I remained on the stairs, staring off across the expansive room below and
the wall of windows beyond, noticing that the pool was still lit, towels and
puddles of water scattering the flagstone as a result of everyone's abrupt
departure. Guilt began to seep in as I sat there; perhaps I'd been too hasty
in my frustration with Austin and the girls and Jake's refusal to declare
his relationship with me. I couldn't forget his status, his stardom, his
life in the spotlight. Gossip was damaging. Career-ending. Just as Katy had
so irritatingly pointed out to me
	Yet, seeing Austin and his tramp going at it while Melissa's lips had
danced on my mouth had been too much. I was surprised I'd refrained from
completely yelling obscenities at everyone, considering the amount of beer
I'd had in my system and my overall fatigue and agitation.
	Jake's approaching figure distracted me from my thoughts, his muscular
chest and broad shoulders a breath-taking sight as he sauntered across the
wood floor. His board shorts hung low on his waist, his hair was still
somewhat damp from the pool, tufts of brown curls framing his handsome,
scruffy face. I couldn't help but stare as he climbed the stairs.
	"Sorry for that," he mumbled as he drew near, his expression tired and
apologetic.
	I reached out and gently tugged on him until his mouth reached mine. All of
the hostile thoughts which plagued me - Austin, Eric, the hot tub, Boston,
even the round-up and weeks of separation from Jake - were pushed aside,
tucked deep into the far recesses of my mind, not to be dealt with.
	It was awkward trying to position ourselves on the stairs. I slid my arms
around Jake's back and hugged him in tight, whispering in his ear, "I'm
sorry for being an asshole and spoiling things. Everyone must think I'm a
total prick."
	His lips found my neck, tongue lightly circling. "Don't worry about it," he
whispered. "It's Hollywood. They're used to being around pricks." His mouth
moved upwards, leaving a wet trail of saliva. As his teeth gently nibbled at
my earlobe, he added, "We're okay, Cooper. Everything's okay. I'm still
really . . ." His voice trailed off, but the meaning, the connotation, was
crystal clear.
	I lifted his head, stared into his eternal blue eyes, and said, "I know,
Jake. I'm the same. I mean . . . I feel the same . . ."
	Still, I couldn't utter the words, couldn't articulate the sentiment. But
the feeling was there, swirling in my belly like a thousand butterflies,
practically lifting me from where I sat. "You mean the fucking world to me,"
I mumbled before cupping his face in my hands and bringing his lips to mine
once more, our mouths immediately parting for one another, tongues
colliding, the emotions of the evening crashing between us in shockwaves.
	Jake pushed me down until my back was flat on the upstairs landing, my feet
still on the stairs, my arms gripping his back. He slithered between my legs
and pressed his body to mine as we continued to kiss, the urgency and
passion steadily rising as if we couldn't get enough of each other -
couldn't get deep enough, couldn't drown hard enough.
	His damp hair caressed my forehead as his fully erect cock moved against my
own, small moans somehow finding escape through devouring lips. When the
tips of his fingers made a path up my t-shirt, my desire could no longer be
contained. Gently tugging on his hair, I rolled him over until he lay
beneath me, our positions reversed, our mouths never parting, our tongues
sliding and colliding in a moist frenzy. He slid a leg up over my hip and
pinned me in close; I ran a hand down his board sheets, clutching at the
hard, thick shaft hiding beneath the fabric.
	"Cooper . . ." he panted, entwining his fingers in my hair, rubbing his leg
up and down my waist, the heel of his foot sliding along the seat of my
sweatpants.
	The longing I felt for the man was dizzying and unfathomable.
	Sitting up, I struggled to stay balanced on the edge of the stairs while my
hands groped and grabbed and removed the shorts from his body. Flinging them
aside, I then lifted my shirt over my head and dropped it, hoisting my pants
down far enough to expose my pulsating, pre-cum-covered cock, landing back
down to cover Jake's neck and collarbone in a multitude of slick kisses, our
erections grinding almost uncomfortably together.
	I continued to kiss his torso, traveling down to his pecs, my tongue
running through his chest hair, my teeth finding his nipples, the sensation
causing him to arch up. I slid down to trace each stomach muscle with my
tongue until eventually I reached his belly button, pausing to encircle it,
making him tremble. When I dipped inside the warm spot, he groaned and held
me tighter.
	I then slithered down to his groin, nudging my nose through his pubic hair,
inhaling his scent, allowing my goatee to lightly scrape the sensitive skin
of his cock as I did so. The tips of his fingers dug into my scalp as I
tugged on his balls with my lips, gently sucking each one into my mouth,
flicking my tongue around before releasing them. Then I brought the tip of
his dick to my mouth, the bulbous head leaking salty pre-cum which I licked
and swallowed before taking him all the way in, his thickness stretching my
mouth wide, my throat opening to receive him.
	"Goddamn," he sputtered, arching up, fingers tight in my hair. I sucked on
him for a moment, making him writhe, and then he said, "Fuckin' get in me,
Travis," using his legs to coax me forward. "I want you in me right fucking
now . . ."
	I groaned and moved up, finding his mouth once more, my cock between his
legs. He shoved a hand down and attempted to guide me to his hole, mumbling
something about fuck lube, he couldn't wait. And then suddenly the dogs were
bounding up the stairs, panting and sniffing and encircling us.
	I hoisted myself up and kicked my sweatpants off. Then I reached down and
took Jake's hand, mumbling, "Come on," leading him to the guest room so that
I could retrieve a condom from my suitcase.
	But Jake stopped me, red-directing me to his bedroom, planting kisses on me
along the way as his hands freely roamed my naked body, the dogs following
and tripping around our ankles. Upon reaching his room, he released me long
enough to kick the animals out, shutting the door as he did so. Then he
turned to the nightstand and tugged the drawer open so harshly it
practically fell off its track. "Here," he said breathlessly.
	Inside was not only a box of condoms and a large tube of lubrication, but a
dildo as well, about nine inches long.
	"Jesus," I mumbled, hefting the black object in the palm of my hand,
surprised to see such a thing in his possession.
	Jake came up behind me, reaching around to run his hands up my chest while
his lips sucked on the back of my neck. "Get the goddamn condom on," he
insisted.
	I dropped the dildo back into the drawer and grabbed the condom box,
experiencing some sort of fleeting relief that it was still unopened.
Hastily, I retrieved a condom and tore open the package to slide the rubber
on, then turned and pushed Jake to the bed. He bounced on the mattress and
perched up on his elbows, legs slightly parted, hunger covering his face as
his eyes raked over me, his tongue licking his lips.
	I quickly squirted the lube and ran it down my stiff cock, the eagerness to
be inside of him prevalent and strong. After I had finished with myself, I
tossed the tube at him and growled huskily, "Your turn."
	His eyes hooded over in instant lust. Without objection or comment, he
squirted the cool gel onto his fingers and then proceeded to moisten his
asshole, lifting his leg up to better reach the area. The sight of him
fingering himself was more arousing than I'd thought possible, my urge to
cum right then and there almost uncontrollable.
	I stood watching, gripping my cock at the base, trying to contain myself.
	"What the hell are you waiting for?" he panted in desperation, two of his
fingers now gliding in and out of his puckered hole, his mouth slack.
	Without further constraint, I grabbed his ankle, yanked him to the edge of
the bed, and turned him onto his side, gripping the crook of his knee for
leverage as I guided my cock to his eager hole, pushing just the head
through, feeling his sphincter stretch with the passage.
	He hissed. Shuddered. Immediately clung to the bedding with a fist.
	"Remember to breathe," I mumbled. He nodded. I pushed myself in farther,
completely opening him up, feeling as though I could ejaculate just from the
warmth and constriction of his chute.
	His fingers continued to grab the sheets, his jaw tightly clenched, his
eyes shut. I eased myself out slightly and then slid back in, going deeper
with each stroke, slowly pushing further and further in until my dick was
completely buried in his asshole, my pubic hair rasping his skin, my balls
touching his inner thigh.
	"Oh fuck," he trembled, sucking in air.
	I began to pump him harder, his calf tight in my grasp, his ankle perched
on my shoulder, my cock pulsating deep within his tight hole. I leaned over
and brought his face to mine, sloppily kissing him, my tongue gliding over
his teeth. Then I sat back up and slammed into him again, managing to push
out short whimpers from his trembling lips. He stroked himself, trying to
stay balanced with one arm pressed against the mattress, the other hand
running up and down the length of his dripping cock.
	I felt as though I couldn't get in him deep enough, couldn't fuck him fast
enough, my hips frantically thrusting, my hands struggling to hold onto his
glistening skin as he inched away from me on the mattress.
	"Goddamn fuckin' hot," I breathed, yanking him back to the edge of the bed.
"Fuckin' missed this."
	"Yeah," he moaned hoarsely, stroking himself with furious strength. "Gonna
fuckin' cum . . ."
	I reached a hand down to play with his balls, continuing to pound him, and
he immediately lost it, ejaculating profusely, grunting loudly, cum flying
everywhere, hitting the sheets, reaching all the way up to his chin, his
fist pumping more and more of the hot semen out. And as he rocked beneath me
- his chute spasming tightly around my cock, his whimpers and groans filling
my ears - I lost it as well, my balls releasing their heavy load, ropes of
cum shooting out into the condom, my breath gasping, my fingers digging into
his sweaty flesh.
	"Shit . . ." Jake panted, still clutching his cock. "Fuck."
	I stood still for a moment, shuddering, tingling from head to toe. Then I
pushed Jake's leg from my shoulder and fell on top of his body, entangling
my fingers in his hair to bring his lips to mine, our tongues easily sliding
together, our breath hot and ragged.
	As he reached up to touch my face, he whispered through a choke, "Love you
. . ."
	To which I replied, "Yeah . . . me too . . ." before drowning him in a
deeper, more passionate kiss, my heart pounding, my soul aching to be one
with him.
	And at that moment, I knew that I would never, ever let him go. Would
remain like this - connected with him - for eternity, no matter what else
happened.


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