Date: Mon, 18 Jul 2005 13:52:52 -0700 (PDT) From: Douglas Grant <dlgrantsf@yahoo.com> Subject: naked-with-connor-7 Dedicated with affection to dudesweet (dude sweet at hot mail dot com), whom I hope is living something like this story right now; and josh (btomandback@hotmail.com), whose work has moved me, (and who deserves to be published!) I highly recommend their stories. No real disclaimers, except that this is fiction -- with some real experiences occasionally woven in. The characters are composites, although somewhat based on several real high school classmates of mine. No names, but more on that at the end of the series. I won't urge underage boys to avoid this site, or avoid this behavior. I think gay boys should have lots of sex, as often as possible -- as long as it's safe and healthy. Physically, and emotionally. That's important. And I think gay boys should have boyfriends, whenever they can. Copyright 2005 by dlgrantsf@yahoo.com; all rights reserved, apart from the Nifty copyright. Please, do not repost, or edit. *********************************************************************** Naked with Connor -- part 7 We rested, quite awhile. Not napping; I was still too keyed up, in spite of everything. I should explain. See -- I think I'm basically a top -- although I really hate that kind of generalization. But; with Connor, I'm just really, really obsessed with, well, being in him. In his butt; with my tongue. And fingers. And especially my dick. Of course. And I'm also obsessed with coming inside him. Sperming. Squirting. Yeah, I know. Not safe; not at all. Unless you're both virgins; like me and Connor. We both knew we were virgins; if I weren't one, I wouldn't have gotten anywhere near Connor's butt, without a condom. Anyway. So -- I'm basically a top obsessed with penetrating Connor, getting inside him, sperming inside him, and making him come. Thank God, Connor's just fine with that. Really fine. But at the same time, -- I really wanted to try getting fucked. I really, really did. O.K. Confession. One reason I wanted to try it was -- I'd practiced a little, too. Played with myself, down there. Not like Connor; just with my fingers, a little. Inside my crack; on my perineum, opposite my prostate. And, yeah -- inside myself, some. With the same lotion I'd brought on this trip. And -- like, yeah. I really got into it, while jacking off. Not so much going really deep into myself -- I'd need longer arms, for that. But just playing, really. I really like the feeling of just pressing a little, on the smooth part of my anus, as I jack myself; it feels -- delicious. And then, slipping in just the tip of my finger, just the fleshy part, and then pulling out. And pressing in again -- pretending it's the tip of Connor's cock -- Show me a boy who doesn't like having his anus played with, and I'll show you a boy who's never tried it . . . But now it was time for me to go way beyond just playing. And it turned out, I needed a lot of help and understanding from Connor to do it. The first reality check was when he put me on my stomach, and began rimming me. I mean -- like I've said before, I'm obsessive about rimming Connor. Completely, totally, out-of-control INTO rimming Connor. But GETTING rimmed -- actually spreading my legs, feeling his warm breath on that part of me, his fingers, and the first, tentative licks on my buns, and the feeling of his face down there, that face that was the window of his personality, that I loved to kiss so much, that was so mobile and intelligent and beautiful and alive -- that face in my BUTT -- So. I kind of froze. Clenched up. I was mortified. Here I was, me, the world's champion perverted butthole-obsessed rimboy, too shy and uptight to get rimmed himself! "Relax, Scott. Just relax." Connor laid his cheek against one of my other-cheeks, and massaged my butt. "It's okay. And yeah, I really, really want to do this to you." I could hear amusement in his voice. "Uhhhh . . . you sure? Really?" "Yeah. Look," he said. I looked over my shoulder. Connor sat up, and the next thing I knew, the head of his very hard, very large -- (well, it was looking REALLY big to me, right at that moment) -- and probably-dripping cock was being drawn up and down my crack, slowly and lovingly, making me twitch as it ran over my anus. "Oooooff," I gasped. "So, just relax, and open up for me, baby. Please?" "Yeah. Sorry." He crawled back down to get his face into position again. "Don't apologize! Just -- relax. Let me do this." And he lowered his face into that place, in my butt, and -- Oh. Ohhhh-ohhhhhhhhhhh, Getting rimmed is way, WAY more intense that actually doing the rimming. In a completely different way. I was so -- open. So vulnerable; but also, feeling so GOOD. So -- penetrated. Like I had no secrets . . . And then he really, really got into me, with his tongue; and his fingertips, I guess, but mostly his tongue -- and I was lost in it. I was pushing my butt back against his face, and his tongue was SO DEEP, and I was just whimpering, and making noises, and saying things that were pretty crazy, and pushing back even more; and I know at one point I reached back and pulled his head deeper, harder onto and into my butt . . . And the thing was, my whole butt -- my whole pelvic area -- was so ALIVE, so tingling and throbbing, and sensitive, and needy . . . "See?" His voice was muffled by my butt; I felt the vibration of his words, in my butt. His chin moved against my balls, as he spoke. "What. What?" I asked, a little desperately. I did NOT want him to stop. "What it feels like." Long, deep lick. "What it felt like, when you did it to me." He gently opened me up, and -- oh Lord, his tongue went in me, again -- "Urrrrghhhh -- !" I arched my back, and pushed my butt against his face; I think my eyes were rolling back in my head. We went on for a long time, like that. And it felt like I was opening up, more and more, really changing, down there, flowering, in a weird way, maybe, and it just went on and on and on -- I was ready. SO ready. Connor could tell. "That was the fun part," he said, lifting up, some. He fumbled for something -- the K-Y, I figured -- found it, undid the cap, and squeezed some get onto his fingertips. "This is fun too -- but you're going to have to REALLY relax for this. A lot." He was right. About it being fun; and about needing to relax. All right. For those of you who have never tried it, here's my Golden Rule For Getting Finger Fucked: One finger = REAL FUN. Two fingers = FUN -- after you get over the first couple of minutes. Three fingers = Well, kind of a challenge, actually. It gets easier as it goes along. Especially if -- like me -- you're lying on your side, top leg pulled up close to your chest; your boyfriend spooned against your back, holding you tight with one arm, deep in you with his fingers, gently probing, massaging, spreading, tickling, and gradually, gradually driving you absolutely crazy down there . . . Yeah. Then three fingers can get -- almost orgasmic. It got to be time. Connor pulled his lower arm -- the one that was holding me -- out from underneath me, and fumbled with the K-Y. A moment later, he slid up tight against me again, and his fingers began easing out of me. First one; then another; then the third. And then, I felt it. The head of his cock, right on my loosened-up anus, just barely pressing, just warm, and wonderful, and then pressing just a little more -- "Oooohhhh . . . do it," I whispered. "Go on in." "Not yet," he whispered back. "Just relax. Just feel this, awhile, first." He pressed a little more, then backed off. Pressed more; backed off. Nuzzling my neck; making little noises in my ear. The feelings were incredible; the smooth pressure on my anus was SO good, and the way my anus was just beginning to open up as he pushed, then relaxing again -- I moaned, and tried to push my butt back onto his dick, tried to push him into me, and he stopped me. "Not yet. A little more." He wriggled his arm underneath me and around me again, as he pushed a little, held it, then relaxed; pushed a little, held it, relaxed . . . I couldn't believe the feelings; I couldn't believe how MUCH doing all this made me want him inside me. Maybe you have to have lived it, to understand. I recommend it. Very strongly. "Urrrrrghhhh . . . " Push a little; relax. Push a little more; hold it, relax. "Connor, please! Just do it! I really want it -- !" "Okay, baby." Even in my lust, my hormone haze, something inside me realized this was the first time he'd called me that. "We'll do it. I'll go real, real slow. But you have to relax. Just relax . . . " Push, hold, relax. Push, -- then push a little more, and I was opening up to him, and it was so EXCITING, feeling his beautiful dick actually getting inside me; so SEXUAL, and a little more -- "Wait. Wait." "Okay." He nuzzled into my neck, and stopped, with just the very head of his cock inside me. "Are you all right? Does it hurt?" "Yeah. I'm okay. It's just -- " I was gasping, not sure what to say. "Feels weird. Like, bigger than anything you've felt down there, before?" "Yeah . . . " Actually, it didn't HURT so much, as it felt -- scary. Like something inside me might tear, or rip, or something. I tried to tell him so, between pants. "I know, I know." Connor stroked my chest soothingly, played with my nipples. His whispers in my ear were unbelievably intimate. "We don't have to do this, now. Want me to -- "No! Don't pull out!" I pushed back on him, just a little, and tried to clench my muscles on him. He stopped me. "Shhhhh . . ." He licked my neck. "Just hold still. Just relax. Just relax; let me do it." Without going any deeper, he began the same push-relax-push-relax cycle, all the time whispering for me to relax, relax, and I tried to relax and just let go, and it occurred to me again that Connor was FUCKING ME, really FUCKING ME, and how incredibly sexual it was to actually have him inside me . . . "Yeah. Oh, yeah," he breathed. "Oh, yeah. Like that." And he slid all the way in me so easily, and I felt my body just opening up to him so much, and he held me so tight, balls deep up inside me. "Oh, Jesus," I moaned. "I can't believe it." "Feel okay?" His soft breath tickled the edge of my ear. "Amazing. I can't -- ohhhhhh, fuckkkk . . . . " "It gets better." He moved inside me; just a little, kind of a circular motion, but really gentle, and I moaned again. "Tell me what you like. Come on," he whispered. And then his fingers went around my dick, so gently, and began to pull and caress in time with his moves inside me, and I lost it. I told him, all right. What I liked, I mean. I think I got kind of descriptive. Just one of the advantages of anal sex, I guess. Your mouth isn't always full. Like I said -- I lost it. So much; I'm still kind of embarrassed, thinking about it. Connor says he created a monster, by fucking me. Me, I just think that for a bottom, I'm a pretty demanding top. I'm not totally sure; my memories are a little confused. I know I wrestled us around, a lot. I remember -- me getting fucked, doggy style -- me getting fucked on my back, my legs around his waist -- me getting fucked, on top, bouncing up and down on his lap -- me getting fucked, my back to his front, in just about every position two people can do; standing, lying down, sideways, top, bottom -- Mostly I remember the feelings, the incredible sensation of getting, like, jerked off from the inside out (and from Connor's hand on my dick, too), as Connor kept hitting that part of me with his cock, over and over, sliding soft pressure, making me gasp, making me feel almost like I WAS coming, but WASN'T, quite, at the same time, and I really, really craved more -- And I remember, whenever I got close, or Connor said he was getting close, I'd make us move to a different position, then start over again, driving, impaling myself on his dick, so deep . . . Finally, somewhere along the line, we both came; me all over the comforter underneath us, him up inside me. And of course, I didn't let him pull out. I made him stay, I insisted that he get hard -- fully hard, he never got soft, exactly -- and start the whole thing over again. The really, really vivid memory I have of that night is the last thing I remember, before falling asleep. Or passing out from exhaustion, which maybe describes it better. And that's me, on my stomach, lying in two loads of my own sperm; Connor on top of me, panting, still inside me; both of us wet with sweat, cold on the side away from the dying fire, warm where we touched, and I remember feeling more quietly, ecstatically happy than ever, every before in my whole life. ************************************************************************ The next chapter is coming soon. Comments are welcome, to dlgrantsf@yahoo.com. Many, many thanks, to everyone who has already written! I'm very touched by your kind words. And, thanks for reading.