Date: Sun, 26 Mar 2000 15:11:36 GMT
From: MM
Subject: Metron Ariston, part III: Proterastia

Metron Ariston
Part III: Proterastia

* * * * *

"Remember when you were more easily led
Behind the cricket pavillion and the bicycle shed
Trembling as your dreams came true
You looked right into those blue eyes and knew..."
       -Pet Shop Boys, "Can You Forgive Her?"

* * * * *

I didn't know why I had said it; what part of me didn't want to be by
myself, wanted to be with this guy. This man, Randy. This vulnerable human
being.

He was gazing into me. His frighteningly blue eyes were doing odd things to
me, and I knew just by knowing that something similar was going on on his
end. I reached out to touch him.

Without anything seeming to happen in between, we were embracing, I
sprawling backward on the sofa, he on top of me. There seemed to be a great
energy blowing through us, spinning and rendering insane. Our whole bodies
were pressed together; so were our minds. I couldn't understand it, couldn't
put it into words. It was as though we were occupying the same point in
space.

He was breathing heavily, and I could feel what he needed. I grabbed his
head and brought his lips onto mine. We kissed; it was the frenzied
abandonment that comes after tentative explorations and cautious
investigation of some new joy. It was wild.

I was kissing this person, and feeling closer to him than to any human being
since I left home. I'd known him for two days and he met me by beating me
up. It was unprocessable by any standard of rational thought, and therefore
it was a good thing that my rational faculties seemed to be taking a coffee
break.

"Bed?" I suggested creatively. He agreed with another deep kiss.

I got up and half-pulled him by the hand to my modest sleeping quarters.
Kissing him again, I fell backwards onto my bed, wriggling up it until I was
all the way on, then gave him what I hoped was a sultry look. He grinned and
launched himself on top of me. His great hot bulk landed on me and warmed me
all the way down into the mattress.

We started kissing again as my wandering hands began to stroke his back and
caress his wonderful ass. I was worried he'd get strange about me touching
his butt, but he didn't even notice and just kept kissing me. With great
dispatch I pushed his open shirt off his arms, then reached down and pulled
his tee-shirt out of his jeans. Interrupting the kiss only momentarily to
pull the tee-shirt over his head, I flung it to one side. His chest was bare
now. He was somewhat hairy, hairier than me at any rate, and stocky and
muscular. He had the most fascinating nipples, which I decided to test for
speed.

I decided to find his comfort level, starting low and building. I licked
over his left nipple, and he gasped. "God, Denis! That's great! Do that
again, *please*..." I kept going, putting my whole mouth to use on his tit.
I saw that his inhibitions were at least for the moment rolled back. I began
to nibble at his tit, just to see if he'd go for it. He moaned and shivered.
I licked across his firm, hair-traced chest to his right nipple and bathed
it too. Now he was lying back on the bed, moaning and tense. He was putty in
my hands.

I kneeled straddling over him and stroked his chest delicately with my
hands. He was almost weeping with the intensity of it, but he brought his
hands up and began to touch me too. Sinuously, I peeled off my t-shirt and
let him stroke my bare chest. He played with my nipples a little bit, then
arched his back up to taste one. I lay down beside him and let him roll over
and lick it. His inexpert tongue was nonetheless wonderful on my nipple, and
I moaned to let him show I appreciated it. He lay down on top of me and I
began to kiss him again, letting him feel the unique comforting warmth of
two male chests together. He stroked my back and rubbed his hairier chest
against my smooth one.

As we kissed I felt his hardness pressing down into my own. I rolled us over
so I was on top of him, then ground down against him and elicited a gasp.
His mouth was parted, his eyes languorous.

I slid my hand down and lay it experimentally on the crotch of his jeans,
feeling his well-formed cock. He paused for a second and I sensed that I
might have made an error. "If you'd rather not..." I said.

He appeared to be weighing the question. He shut his eyes and lay his head
back, breathing in deeply through his nose, then whispered, "Yesss..."

* * * * *

"It's night; let's make love
And we can talk about it when the morning comes..."
-Kate and Anna McGarrigle, "Talk About It"

* * * * *

I lay down beside him and kissed him again, as I slowly undid his belt
buckle and opened it, then undid the top button of his jeans. I was focusing
on being very slow and soothing. If this was going to be his first same-sex
experience I wanted it to be one he could look back on with satisfaction.

I found the zipper and slowly undid it, allowing his hardening cock to
slowly rise out of the front opening of his black boxers. It was of average
length, decent thickness, and an appetizing shade of pink. Its purple head
poked out of a foreskin which was retracting slowly. I felt envious. My
parents had had me mutilated at birth, then wondered why I was obsessed with
sharp instruments later on.

I looked into his eyes. His head was raised and he was completely fixated on
the unfolding drama, but he looked away from it and met my eyes too. I
smiled slowly. "It's lovely," I whispered. It was; I should know.

"Can I touch it?" I asked him, still wanting to go slowly. He nodded, with a
lust that approached pain in his eyes.

I reached down and grasped his cock in my right hand, feeling the warm,
smooth flesh in my palm. He breathed out heavily and let his head drop into
the pillow. Slowly, I began to jack him off, listening to his raspy
breathing and feeling the solid presence of his cock in my palm. It felt
delicious. I lay beside him and began to suck his right nipple as well. He
was having a great time. He wasn't doing anything to me - he was much too
distracted by my hand on his dick and my mouth on his tit - but I didn't
mind. I didn't want him to worry about getting me off yet. I wanted to do
this for him, which surprised me.

I gently kept going, watching as his eyes glazed over with the unfamiliar
sensations. Gradually, then more and more, he began to thrust into my fist
as I jacked him. I could tell he wanted more. After about ten minutes of
this, I decided he was ready.

"Do you want me to suck you?" I whispered into his ear as I kept stroking
him.

He looked hectically at me, mouth open. His pleasure-fogged brain whirred
for a minute, then his eyes shut again. "Oh, Denis, please...." he pled in a
whisper.

We kissed again deeply; I escaped from the kiss and began to lick his jaw,
then traced a line down his throat and chest. I followed the line of his
muscle to his navel, then paused for a minute to stimulate that. He seemed
to enjoy that a lot, by which I mean he moaned and his cock twitched, so I
stayed there a while, feeling the soft and firm flesh of his abdomen against
my cheeks. Finally, when I was ready, I moved down and hovered over his
cock. A bead of precum had welled up and I flicked it off with my tongue.
Then I pulled back his foreskin and licked the front of his cock head in a
swift swipe.

He gasped, so I did it again, eliciting another gasp. I began to lick around
the rim of his cockhead, the most sensitive part of a man's prick. As he lay
back on the bed in unfamiliar delight, I engulfed him in my mouth.

Still playing my tongue along his shaft and cockhead, I began to blow him
slowly, folding my lips back over my teeth, caressing his cock up and down
with my mouth while slowly jacking it with my fist. I raised up my eyes and
watched him. His chest was heaving as he struggled to take in the sensation.
Unconsciously he began to thrust into my fist and mouth. A tear gathered at
the corner of his eye and ran down the side of his face. A streetlight cast
a soft glow through the window onto his body. He was incredibly beautiful in
the light and darkness.

I kept sucking and jacking him. His breath was coming in slight whistles;
every muscle in his body seemed to be tense. Finally, I felt his cock expand
in my hand. "I'm going to - !" he gasped.

I took my mouth off his cock and jacked him rapidly, and he shot onto his
chest. I could see tears running down his cheeks and glistening in the
light. I slid up beside him and kissed him softly on the cheek as he caught
his breath. "I'll get you a washcloth," I whispered, then got up and fetched
one from the bathroom.

When I got back, I was startled to see him sitting up in bed, with his seed
still on his chest, his face in his hands. He was weeping.

* * * * * * * * * *