Date: Tue, 8 Sep 2009 13:03:12 -0700 (PDT)
From: Alvaro Lopez <lopezbos@yahoo.com>
Subject: Snowstorm Part 1

[Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities between actual
events and the events in this story or the characters in this story are
purely coincidental. This story involves descriptions of unsafe sexual acts
between men for the purpose of erotic fantasy and is not intended to
condone such acts. If you are underage or homoerotic material is otherwise
illegal in your area, please do not continue. Author retains copyright; do
not duplicate this story without express written consent by the
author. Comments and suggestions are welcomed at lopezbos@yahoo.com]

Snowstorm -- Part 1

My little sliver of office window was jet black, reflecting back my
office. In winter, this meant little; it could be midnight or it could be
four-o-clock. I knew it was snowing out, I could tell by the occasional
flicker of white against the glass. I checked the time; it was late. The
office was quiet except for the cleaning crew bustling around from office
to office. I got up to stretch and Charlie rapped on my door gently.

"Still working?"

I nodded as he came around the desk to get my garbage can. Over the past
few months this project had kept me in the office late enough time to get
to know the `regulars' on the crew.  "How's the family?" I asked.

"All good, all good. Big storm's brewing out there Mr. Lewis, might want to
get out of here soon."

I cupped my hands over the window to look out. The parking lot was already
white.

"What about you guys?" I asked.

"We're finishing up in a few, we'll be out of here before it gets much
worse. Radio says it's going to be a bad one."

"So I heard. I'm trying to get everything done now so I don't have to deal
with this in the morning. Maybe stay home and relax."

Charlie finished relining the can and nodded. "You drive safe now."

"You too, Charlie, and keep warm."

I went back to work, pushing for that elusive finish line. I heard a vacuum
cleaner in the distance and hoped that Charlie and his crew would get out
soon. I had a nice big SUV in the lot, so I wasn't too worried about snow
or storms. The hypnotic undulation of the vacuum grew louder. In a few
minutes it'd be in my area of the building. I welcomed the noise, I
concentrate better with it, so I went back to work.  A while later the kid
that did the vacuuming came by and waved. He wasn't part of Charlie's
regular crew, and I'd only seen him a couple of times, probably because his
job was the last one of the night. I guessed he was Latin, in his twenties,
with a shock of spikey black hair and a handsome if not ordinary face. When
he smiled he looked pretty good.  I thought of him as `the kid' because he
wore clothes that were obviously too big for him. His pants were cinched up
at the waist and cuffed at the ankle, and when the cuffs of his shirt came
loose, they hung down past his hands. I'd never really spoken to him, since
vacuuming didn't really allow for much conversation. He passed out of
sight, and the noise ebbed.

When I looked up again, another hour had passed. The noise was gone, and I
realized I'd been heads-down for too long. I took another look outside, and
it was indeed getting nasty, so I packed up my stuff, grabbed my coat and
headed out. The building was empty, or so I thought until I got to the
lobby. The vacuum cleaner kid was there, talking on his cell. He spoke in
rapid-fire Portuguese, and from what I could understand, he wasn't too
happy about the other side of the conversation. Obviously frustrated, he
flipped the phone shut and shoved it in his pocket. He noticed me as he
turned around.

"Oh, I'm so sorry sir, I didn't know there was anyone left in the
building!"

"I think I'm the last one out" I said, slipping my coat on. The kid was
wearing a bulky overcoat that was also too big for him. "Is everything OK?"
I asked.

"Yes, no problem." He said, with a slight accent. His face belied what he
said. I looked out the big front windows and saw the snow coming fast and
furious. I slipped on my gloves.

"Are you on Charlie's crew? Did they leave you behind?" I asked.

"No, I work for different company, they pick me up separate." He looked
outside and frowned.

"Um, do you have a ride tonight?"

"They can't pick me up, so I take the bus" he said, a little growl in his
voice. That explained the heated exchange on the phone.

"Let me give you a ride" I said, making it as much a statement as I
could. "The bus stop is a good mile down the road, and I'm not sure the
busses are going to be running tonight."

"No, no sir, I couldn't ask that." He buttoned his jacket as he spoke. I
noticed he didn't have gloves or a hat.

"You're not asking, I'm offering. Look, you're not dressed for a long walk
in the snow.  How far do you live?"

"Down route 28, behind the grocery store, but I can't ask you to drive me
home. I take the bus."

"Nonsense, you're practically on my way home. C'mon." I lied, but I wasn't
going to leave the kid to trudge through a blizzard.

He half shook his head, then looked back outside. "OK, thank you sir. You
live close too?"

"No, I live about 30 miles north, that's why I drive a big car, for weather
like this." I pointed to the hulking chunk of metal in the lot under the
lone streetlamp. It was covered in snow, and from the looks of it, there
was a good six or eight inches already on the ground and no sign of the
plows.

"I'm Ben Lewis" I said, extending my hand.

"Paulo Escobar. Thank you Mr. Lewis."

"Ben, please."

He grabbed his backpack and hoisted it to his shoulder, the held the door
open for me.  The bitter wind took my breath away.  It was a hideous
night. We trudged out to the car and I jumped in to start it. Paulo went
around, and cleared the windshield with his arm. I grabbed my scraper and
joined him. In a minute or two we had the car cleaned off and we climbed
inside.

"Damn it's cold" I said, shaking off the snow from my coat. Paulo was
shivering so I turned up the heat as high as it would go, but it was still
not warm. I drove out of the lot slowly, trying to remember where the
little islands were, since it looked like a huge field of white. The road
was better, but not plowed recently and the truck felt like it was
lumbering through the packed snow. This really was a doozie of a storm.

I drove slowly, making my way through mostly deserted streets. I found the
turnoff to 28 and headed down, not sure how far the grocery store
was. After a couple of blocks, Paulo pointed. "There, that road, left."

I turned and he piloted me down a few other short turns until we came to a
small apartment complex. "Right here" he said, gathering his
backpack. "Thank you so much Mr. Lewis."

"No problem, kid. You stay warm now."  He jumped out and headed to the
door, turning to wave. I started backing out.

"Mr. Lewis!" he shouted, waving his arms. "Mr. Lewis, your tire!" he
shouted pointing at my rear tire.

I got out and saw my left rear tire almost completely flat. That explained
why she was handling so poorly. "Dammit!"

"I'm so sorry Mr. Lewis" said Paulo.

"Sorry for what? Hell, you just saved me from breaking down on the
highway. I'll give the auto club a call."

"You come in, Mr. Lewis." Paulo tugged at my sleeve. The wind was picking
up again, sending snow swirling around. I nodded to him, then pointed to an
empty space.

"Can I put it there?" Paulo nodded and I parked, then followed him in. It
was a nice building, the smell of home cooking wafting through the halls. I
stomped off the snow and followed him down the corridor to his
apartment. It was a ground-floor affair, simple and functional. Kitchen and
living area on one side, and bedroom and bathroom on the other. It was just
a bit bigger than my dorm in college.

Paulo hit the lights and shrugged off his coat. I flipped open my cell and
dug for the auto club card in my wallet. He took my coat and hung it up,
then self-consciously went around picking up clothes that were scattered on
the floor. The auto club operator informed me that I was looking at two
hours or more. She was careful to ask me if I was in a safe place and all
that. I checked my watch, and it was past ten.  Paulo heard me telling her
that I couldn't impose for two hours, and beaming at hearing me say that I
was at a `colleague's house.' He gestured that it was OK, and the woman
insisted that two hours would be the limit, it could be anytime before that
depending on the location of a truck.

I pondered the idea of changing the tire myself, but with the cold and
snow, I opted to wait. I hung up and checked the time again. She'd said
they would call before coming over. I decided to give them twenty minutes,
then I'd go wait in the car and let the kid relax.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Paulo offered.

"Not unless you're having something" I answered. He smiled and nodded.

"Is tea OK? I want to get warm."

"That sounds great thanks." Actually, I'd prefer something stronger, but I
doubted the kid had brandy lying around. He set on the task of nuking two
mugs and motioned me to sit. I hopped up on a stool at the kitchen counter
(no table). It was cluttered with unopened mail and magazines, mostly
workout and fitness mags that promised flat abs in six weeks.

"This is a nice place you have" I said, trying not to feel like a white
elephant.

"It small, but good. My uncle owns the building, so the rent is cheap. He
runs the cleaning company too."

I nodded. Nice deal. Pay the kid then take it back, I thought.

Paulo went on: "It's a quiet building, so I like it."

I noticed the weight set in the corner of the living room. It was neatly
packed away; the weights stacked and everything in it's place. "You lift?"
I asked casually.

"Lift?" Paulo looked a little confused, then followed my gaze to the
weights.  "Oh, that is my training equipment. I am bodybuilder."

"Get out" I said, sincerely surprised. Paulo laughed.

"Yes. Came in third this past weekend. Big competition, Tri-State."

"Seriously?" I was still incredulous. He shuffled through the magazines on
the counter and pulled out one. I saw that it wasn't a magazine, but a
program for the Tri-State Body Championship. He thumbed through the pages,
then plopped it open in front of me.

"That's me, number 38." He pointed to a sculpted, lean body topped with his
head. I looked from the picture to him, and back. If I didn't know better,
I'd have sworn the picture was messed with.

"That's amazing" I said, looking at the tight muscled guy in a white bikini
on the page. The smile was his for sure. Paulo went off to the bedroom and
came back with a trophy.

"Third, but next year I will definitely do better" he said proudly. I
looked at the picture again, trying to imagine what body could have taken
first if this kid took third. Paulo trotted back to the bedroom to put the
trophy back.

"You should keep that out here" I said, "man, if I'd won one of those I'd
have it in the front window!"

Paulo laughed as the microwave beeped. "My uncle says not to be proud, not
to show off, it's rude. And it's only third place, maybe when it is first,
it will be in the window, eh?" He gave a little wink as he plopped the
teabags into the cups.

"I'd have never guessed you were a bodybuilder, I mean usually those guys
are so, I don't know..."

"Big?" he said, his eyebrow arching up.  "No I'm not in that weight
class. They always win the show, the big guys, but I don't want to get that
big, it's hard enough to buy clothes now." He waved his sleeves to
emphasize his point. He flexed his arm and the oversized sleeve inflated
like a balloon. "Can you imagine if I got bigger? No thanks. The training
is hard enough as it is." He laughed again. "Do you, lift?" He said it like
he was trying a new word out.

"No, not like that. I mean I work out at the gym and all, but it's just to
keep in shape."

Paulo nodded. "It's a lot of work. The money's not too bad, $500 for third
place. But still, I give up a lot."

"I hope I'm not keeping you from your workout" I said, partly hoping.

"Oh no, no. I'm taking a week off. After competition, I really need a
break, so a few days is good to rest, you know?" I nodded. His smiled came
back, giving him an impish look, particularly with his sleeves hanging down
past his waist. His cell buzzed and he answered, again in Portuguese. It
was a brief conversation, and he went to the bedroom to put the phone away.

"My uncle" he said by way of explanation, "he wanted to be sure I got home
OK." Paulo stood at the counter and sipped his tea. "Can I get you sugar?
Milk?" he said. I shook my head, taking a cautious sip. When he put the cup
down, his cuff slid again, and instead of rolling it back up, he unbuttoned
the bulky shirt and took it off, revealing a well-filled undershirt
stretched across a flat, perfect chest.  Without the bulky, ill-fitting
shirt, he took on a whole different appearance.

Although his pants were cinched up at the waist, from there up there was no
question this was the guy in the picture. He wasn't `big' but perfectly
proportioned without the freakish muscle-bound look so many bodybuilders
had.  "Wow" I said out loud, without even realizing it had slipped out.

Paulo smiled broadly, and stepped over to where I was sitting. He flexed
his right arm, as I watched with fascination. It wasn't the little
egg-shaped bicep, this was a broad, big bicep that rose up. Without
realizing it, I reached out to touch it. Paulo smiled, flexing it again,
pumping it for me. The muscle felt hot under the skin, and `skin' was the
perfect definition for it; it was sheathed in skin, but not bound by
it. I'd seen a lot of muscle guys, but I'd never touched one before.

"Amazing" is all I could say.

Paulo laughed, "Thank you, but not amazing enough to make up for this." He
pulled up his undershirt to expose a flat, rippled stomach.

"Make up for it?" I asked, looking at a perfect set of abs.

"This" he said, pointing and flexing his torso. As he twisted, the muscles
in his abdomen came alive and gathered themselves into a hard set of
blocks. He pointed to the obliques, where those abs slid under, like a
diorama of the continents in motion. Innocently and without thinking, I ran
my hand over that place. He twisted some more, the hard flesh forming and
reforming under my fingertips. "Not enough definition" he said.

"You got robbed" I said, barely looking up. My brain slowly registered that
I had my hand on this guy's midsection and was caressing it. His right
hand, formerly flexed for my entertainment, was resting on my shoulder
gently. I looked up.

Paulo was half smiling, his brown eyes looking straight into mine. I
wondered briefly what my face was saying to him. As he moved towards me, my
hand slid to the small of his back. It was such a natural movement that I
didn't have time to think, just react. I felt his breath on my lips mine as
the gap closed.  The kiss was tentative, asking permission. It was the kind
of kiss that, given the opportunity, would mature and bloom into a
passionate embrace. But it wasn't given the chance.

His cell phone buzzed loudly from the dresser in the other room. Paulo
stopped, and reflexively I backed up, dropping my hand from his warm
body. He turned quickly and stepped into the other room. Likewise, I turned
towards the counter, noticing a large mirror on the wall. I glanced that
way and saw that I could see him in the bedroom leaning into the phone,
talking rapidly.  His facial expressions gave me the gist of the
conversation where my fractured Portuguese didn't. He was telling someone
`no' and `later' in pretty passionate terms. The conversation ended
abruptly on the other end apparently, as Paulo checked the phone a couple
of times to see if he'd been disconnected. I guess he wasn't used to being
hung up on.

"I really should be going" I said by way of breaking the mood, "I'm keeping
you from something, and I really..."

Paulo raised his hand and shook his head, a little melancholy look crossing
his handsome face. "My uncle is over protective, and he's having some
trouble accepting that I want to take a few days off my routine. I have
been training for months, every day, every night. Now I want a few days to
just eat what I want, sleep when I want, and relax with my feet up for a
little while." Again he shook his head.

"Sounds like your uncle really looks after you" I said, not really sure why
I said it, but it seemed like the thing to say.

"Sometimes too much" replied Paulo. He reached across me for his tea and I
felt the heat of his body. I realized that it was pretty warm in the
apartment, and I was still bound up in my office attire. I took a sip of
the tea, awful as it was, and loosened my tie and shirt. Paulo hopped up on
the stool next to me and stared at the counter for a moment before
speaking, "I'm sorry if I offended you, Mr. Lewis."

I practically choked on the tea. "Offended me? How?"

He looked up at me and smiled a little, "Being so forward and all."

I put my hand on his shoulder, my loins tingling at the feel of the
rock-in-velvet feel of his muscles. "I'm the one who's sorry, Paulo. I've
disrupted your plans to relax." He looked me in the eye, then leaned
towards me. My hands instinctively moved to his body, guiding him in for
another try.  In my pants, my cock, which had decidedly chilled with the
damned uncle's phone call, stirred back to life. After that tentative kiss,
I was beginning to think that maybe I'd be having some hot Brazilian
poon-tang for a nightcap. Unlike the first kiss, now that I knew there was
interest there I got a bit more aggressive, pulling Paulo towards me.

This time, the kiss did mature. From a gentle brushing of lips to a full-on
kiss, then after a moment to hands grabbing bodies and the space between us
squeezed away. There is a weird combination of gentle force that goes with
making out with a man. There is the passion, and the power behind
it. Paulo's compact body was burning hot under my hands. I splayed my palms
to feel more of it, the hard back, knotting with the effort of his arms
around me, pulling me. I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead as my
senses kicked into overdrive tasting him, kissing his neck, cheeks, and
those perfect lips. I had to have this kid.

I pulled back to undo my tie, and Paulo stepped back and pulled the t-shirt
over his head. My rigid cock jumped at the sight of his naked torso, and
time slowed for me. His washboard abs twisted as he inched the shirt over
his head, exposing his chest. His square slabs of pecs were capped with
dark, half-dollar sized nipples, standing at perfect attention. He was
totally smooth, even his armpits, and I noticed that even his arm hair was
gone. I practically ripped my shirt off. I had to feel that body against
mine. Paulo, still standing a step back, ran his hands over my chest. I
wasn't about to flex, and I suspected that what he was after was the hair
coating it from my pecs to the top of my abs. He traced his fingertips
through the hair, following it down to the trail through my abs and into my
beltline. I reached up and massaged his pecs, letting my fingers come to
rest at his nipples, softly squeezing and kneading them. He leaned close
and took my left nipple into his mouth. I gasped at the feeling. He flicked
his tongue over the tip as his lips gently encircled it and sucked it
up. His hands, meanwhile, roamed over my abs and back.

I slid off the stool and pressed close, letting my hands drift to his
back. The height difference was now to my advantage, since his head was at
a comfortable angle to keep working my sensitive nubs. I pulled his waist
towards me, thrusting out at the same time until I felt his chest against
my skin. He moaned and pushed into me, releasing my tit to press his body
full on mine. I pulled him closer and when he looked up at me, I planted my
lips on his and drove my tongue into his eager mouth. Despite his solid
mass, he squirmed against me almost playfully. He wrapped his arms around
me and nearly pulled me off my feet. The kid didn't know his own strength.

Paulo broke the kiss and took my hand. "Come" he said, flipping off the
lights as he led me to the bedroom. A single light from his closet lit the
little room enough to locate furniture and obstacles. He was still leading
me, but I reached up and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him to me, his back
to my chest. My arms encircled him, rubbing his chest and abs, and he threw
his head back on to my shoulder moaning. I kissed his neck, shoulders,
ears, and with a little stretching, got to his mouth as my hands closed on
his pecs. He held my arms tight, leaning into me and arching his back.

I ground my raging, but confined cock into his rock hard ass, and he arched
his back more. Damn this kid wanted it bad. I rubbed up and down that hard
ass while pulling his body into mine, grinding my torso into those
magnificent lats. My right hand drifted south. I had to know what this kid
was packing. Paulo let go of my arms and reached around for my ass, pulling
me tighter to him. I got to his waist, but his pants were bunched up and
cinched tight, so I felt through the fabric for his meat. It wasn't hard to
find. He had a respectable hard on, as rock hard as the rest of him. I
rubbed it through the pants, feeling it's hard length, it's heat. Paulo
bucked his hips against my groping, pulling me into him by my own hips. I
happily ground them into his hard ass. I went back to massaging his body,
letting my hands come down to his beltline to try and figure out how to
undo those damned baggy pants.

He read my thoughts and spun around to face me, grabbing my own pants and
undoing the belt as my fingers struggled with his. He had no trouble with
my pants, thanks to my very fussy tailor that insisted the waist be just
right. One clasp and my pants fell to the floor quickly, weighted as they
were with my keys, wallet, and cell phone. I was glad I'd picked boxer
briefs today, since they made me look pretty hot. Paulo kissed me furiously
as he explored my ass and package with his hands. My fumbling with his
pants was getting me nowhere, so he stepped back and undid them
himself. They slid lethargically down a little then stopped; trapped by the
mounds of solid muscle the rest of us call thighs. He reached down and
pushed, stepping out of his pants.

I took the opportunity to shed my loafers and kick off my own pants. I
looked down at those perfect abs terminating in a weathered elastic of thin
cotton boxers. His cock, still caged by material, bulged out obscenely. I
reached over and stroked it as Paulo did the same to me. In a quick motion,
both undergarments hit the floor, and we stepped into each other fully
naked (socks don't count in the winter). My cock, finally free, sprang up
to be trapped between us in the up position. With the height difference
between us, my leaking cockhead was just over his navel, right in the
middle of that magnificent eight-pack of muscle. His cock found it's place
at the top of my legs, just under my nuts. In the second before we glued
our bodies together, I got a look at his cock. Uncut like me, it was a bit
larger at the head than the base, long without being grotesque and as thick
as it needed to be to look perfectly proportioned. It stood out
perpendicular to his body and pulsed slightly, bobbing a bit as he
moved. And like mine, a shiny wetness fringed the puckered foreskin at the
head.

Now Paulo used those big muscles. He held me so tightly, I would have had
trouble taking a deep breath. Our bodies were now in contact head to toe,
fitted together almost perfectly. My hands on his ass, his around my back,
we kissed so hard it hurt. Every grind and movement I felt through my
entrapped cock. His cock was mashing my balls up to the base of mine,
adding to the unbelievable heat between us. I grunted as he lifted me to my
toes, raising my chest up to his mouth. He ran his tongue over my chest,
inhaling deeply. His lips found purchase on my nipples. I moaned, partly
from the feeling of his hot mouth on me and partly from feeling like I was
being attacked by a boa constrictor. I arched my back to take a breath, and
Paulo eased up enough to let take a breath, but not regain my footing. With
any other guy, I'd feel a little queasy that we'd go toppling over, but
there was no question Paulo could handle this acrobatic maneuver.

Paulo backed a few steps, carrying me with him and lowered me back down so
I could stand normally. He continued his slide down my body until he was
sitting on the edge of the bed. I opened my legs to give him room. His
mouth marched down my chest and abs as he settled, finally reaching my
cock.

He didn't engage in any preface, no kissing, no licking, nothing. He took
my cock into his mouth, taking about four inches of my seven inch
member. He sucked like a calf, pulling and kneading with his tongue,
slurping up all the precum I'd built up in the last few minutes. He left my
foreskin in place, working his tongue into the tip. Takes one to know one,
I always say. Nobody sucks uncut cock like an uncut guy.

Paulo proceeded to demonstrate his expertise in the field. He withdrew
everything but the head of my cock from his mouth. He tongued it a little
more, then gently, so deliciously gently, he pushed the skin on the shaft
back to reveal the cockhead resting on his tongue. My knees went a little
weak. The super-sensitive head finally out, and being bathed feather-gently
by his mouth. I let out a little gasp of pleasure. His suction gently
increased, and he bobbed slowly up and down the shaft, taking more each
time. I could feel the back of his throat now with each intake.

I fought the urge to grab his head and bury my cock all the way in. This
kid knew what he was doing, so I'd let him continue to impress me with his
skill; no need to encourage or guide him; this kid had done this
before. Each time I went into him, he teased me with the back of his
tonsils, just where his throat narrowed, promising a full circle massage. I
lingered there, but he pulled off, careful to extend the foreskin as my
cockhead left his mouth, preserving the sensitivity.

He turned quickly, extending himself on the bed upside down with his head
in my crotch. My cock hung over his youthful face, slick with his spit and
my lube. He tilted back, and I needed no other invitation to spread my legs
enough to drop my cock back into his hot mouth. Again, he retracted the
foreskin as the head passed into his lips, tilting back even more. I pushed
in, feeling no resistance as I watched the top two thirds of my cock slide
into him. I put my hands gently on his neck when my cock met the back of
his throat and pushed gently. I felt his neck engorge a little as I passed
deep into his throat, stopping only when my root was pressed against his
teeth. I saw his body ripple with contractions as he fought the gag
bravely, but I held fast. It was too pleasurable to feel that throat
spasming around me.

Reluctantly I pulled back, almost all the way out. Paulo sucked in air
through his nose loudly, and his chest heaved a few times as I pumped
slowly. I moved one hand down his chest, tweaking that fat nipple and slide
back into him to the hilt. He arched back as I pushed, impaling himself on
my cock, swallowing and wiggling his throat to take it all. I felt the
electric tingle in my balls and knew that I couldn't hold off much
longer. I pulled back to let him breathe, and after a few snorts of air, he
pushed his body up and took me again. I leaded over him, slightly off
balance, my hands on his pecs taking a lot of my weight. My hips pumped of
their own accord, massaging the crown of my cock on the back of his throat,
the fat ring of foreskin heightening my sensations.

Paulo sensed my orgasm before I did, suddenly reaching up and grabbing my
ass, pulling me into his mouth deeper than I thought possible. I felt my
balls shiver, and as he swallowed hard, my cock surged. My own throat
released a roar like sound as every muscle in my body suddenly contracted
to push my boys out. Paulo continued his swallowing, letting his tongue
squeeze my entire shaft as I shot. At my age, I'm lucky to get three or
four volleys, but I lost count after six. It felt like my balls were being
siphoned out of my cock. My back arched and my knees felt loose. I nearly
fell over, catching myself on the bed with my arms. Paulo's body squirmed
under me, and I withdrew as much as I could against his iron grip.

My cockhead now nestled just inside his mouth, Paulo gently ran his tongue
over it, sucking the last drops of cum out of me. My cock felt electric,
over-stimulated. He released it with a loud slurp and I slumped onto his
body, his rigid cock at my neck. I wanted to return the favor, but my whole
body was shaking and I needed a minute to gather myself before giving him
what he'd just provided.  After a few deep breaths, I started to slide down
to get a better angle on his cock.

Up close, it was impressive. The head was thicker than the base,
accentuated by his dark foreskin that just barely covered now. I reached
for the base to swing it towards me, and Paulo jumped.

"No, please" he said, "not yet" he added. He turned himself around so we
were face to face. "Not yet" he repeated.

"But I want to make you feel good too" I said, although I wasn't too
disappointed right now. Despite his amazing body and phenomenal blowjob, I
wanted a few minutes to get re-heated so I could really go at him. And I
had other ideas of how I'd like to go at him that involved a lot more than
just a reciprocal suck. Still, I felt a bit badly that I'd gotten
mine. "Let me take care of you" I said.

Paulo leaned close and kissed me. "Later" he said, breaking the kiss.

"Thank you" I whispered, kissing him again and drawing his body to mine. He
slid his arm under me and snuggled into my chest. I wrapped my arms around
him, caressing his back as far as my pinned arm could reach. My free arm
wandered down to his hard ass.  We kissed like that for a few minutes, and
I felt my lust returning again. As my cock gradually stiffened between us,
Paulo too got more heated. The kissing became more aggressive, the hugs
tighter. I pushed against him, reveling in the raw strength between us. I
didn't need to hold back; he could take my full force of passion.

Paulo moved his lips to my chest, raking his tongue over my nipples making
my cock ache. He adjusted his position, moving across my body with his
talented mouth. When the top of his head was out of range for me to kiss, I
threw my head back and moaned at his renewed attention. I arched my back to
press more of me against him. He'd slide down my body, licking and kissing
my torso. I was once again hard and leaking, rubbing my hips into his
abdomen, feeling the heat of his body between my legs.  He was bucking
against me as well, and sweat dripped off both of us, making the contact
hotter and slicker. I wanted to grab his cock, stroke him off at least to
get him settled enough so I could take his sweet ass, reaching down along
his body. I drew my legs up for balance as I did this, bringing my cock
into full contact with him. I sighed, unable to reach his cock, and getting
lost in the sensations of his mouth and wet body on mine.

I caressed his back and shoulders, enjoying the play of his muscles as he
moved. His big shoulders bunched up, and his arms hooked under my legs and
lifted up, curling me up on the bed. I moaned, expecting him to move his
magical tongue to my cock again. Suddenly, I felt something unexpected: His
hot and very hard cock in the crack of my ass.

"Paulo" I gasped, "No, I don't do that."

He was looking down, inches from my straining cock. I felt him pull back,
and I thought my message was clear. A split second later, instead of the
shaft I felt the blunt head of his cock between my cheeks. I instinctively
clenched my ass. "No" I repeated, a little more forcefully.  I tried
lowering my legs and discovered that pushing against his arms was like
pushing against concrete. I felt his cock withdraw again, and heaved a sigh
of relief. He moved his hands up my legs until they were just above my
ankles, then finally he raised his head to look at me.

"Yes" he said, and I felt the hard tip of his shaft pressing between my
cheeks. He was just north of my opening and pushing hard, simultaneously
spreading my legs wider and completely immobilizing me. I jerked away, and
in so doing changed the position of my hole exactly wrong. The pressure
that had been crushing my perineum was now focused on my sphincter, which
was no match for the need in this muscle man.

I felt a searing flash of white-hot pain as his cockhead, lubricated by his
foreskin, surged out of the protective flesh and into my virginal ass. It
felt like a hot poker had been shoved inside me, and I screamed in pain. My
ass involuntarily contracted against the intruder, increasing the sensation
of sitting on a blowtorch. I'd fucked so many guys, and never imagined it
could be this unbelievably painful for them. Sure, there was that momentary
grimace of pain when I entered, but it was fleeting.

Paulo held the position of his cock, moving with me as I squirmed to try
and get away from him. "Paulo, please, no! It hurts! Stop!"  But he only
looked at my eyes sadly.

"I know, relax, it will pass, I promise. Push now" he ordered.

Absurdly, I thought that maybe he was stuck, since my ass had never been
penetrated, it was too tight for him. I pushed, hard, trying to expel
him. At the same time, Paulo leaned forward and sank the rest of his
rock-hard member into me. I gasped and cried out. His cock, thinner at the
base than the head, felt like it was being sucked into my body. In trying
to push him out, the muscles in my ass had opened, and the initial blinding
pain was gone, replaced with a soreness and burning around the
entry. Inside, however, was another story.

His fat cockhead was buried against my prostate. I felt at once totally
full and unbelievably aroused. He held perfectly still as my ass twitched
and spasmed. I began to regain control of my muscles and squirmed less. For
the first time, I understood what my bottoms craved. I'd only tried this
once, when I was in college and drunk off my proverbial ass, and it hadn't
gotten anywhere because my buddy was also quite drunk and couldn't get hard
enough. I'd never given it another try, knowing my ass was too tight, but
more importantly, preferring to be in control of things.

I unclenched my eyes. Paulo was staring at me, looking sad. "Are you OK
now?" he asked, apparently concerned. I was conflicted now. Ten seconds ago
I was begging him to stop, but now I wasn't so sure. I nodded, and he
relaxed his face, closing his eyes and rocking back and forth. His cock
wasn't going in and out, just rocking with him, and the head alternately
pressed and rubbed against my prostate sending waves of intense pleasure up
my spine. My cock, which had deflated, sprang back to life. I relaxed my
legs and my back, and the sore ache subsided more. I still felt a burning
sensation, but it was rapidly becoming secondary to the feeling of a rock
hard prostate massage.

Paulo moaned and added a little sway to his rocking. His dick stirred me
like a cocktail, slow circles inside me. I moaned with him, closing my eyes
to enjoy the ride. Now he added a little in and out. The first time he
pulled back, I gasped, the burning in my ring flaring for a moment as his
shaft moved out of me. I felt the thicker end of his cock tugging at my
inner muscle, almost tickling me. He reversed direction and as my hole
eased, my insides filled. I could get used to this.

My cock was now fully erect and spewing precum onto my belly. Paulo was in
a rhythmic trance, slowly pulling out, then pushing back in, swaying and
rocking as he did. I got his rhythm and began to match his moves. Each pull
back made me groan as the thick head dilated my entrance from within before
sliding back in where it belonged. Paulo picked up the pace, his thighs
slapping my ass and the bed bouncing with his exertions. My insides felt
like I was being churned to butter. He was still holding my legs, moving
them into different angles. He dropped my left leg and leaned into me, once
again giving me that wonderful feeling of fullness.

"Turn over" he said, breathing heavily. I wasn't sure how he expected me to
accomplish this impaled as I was on his cock, and he didn't wait for me to
comply. He grabbed my hips and began to rotate me. The new sensation was
incredible. My entrance, still burning and a bit sore, now actually
tightened around him. He gasped a little and sent a gob of spit down on his
cock, still turning me. He moved his legs, and for a moment I was on my
side. He pushed in and out, and his cock twisted and snapped in my chute,
sending waves of pain and pleasure through my whole body.

He continued to turn me, one hand on my leg until it was up and over his
body, the other on my hip, pulling me in the other direction. I groaned and
moaned as he gently pushed himself in and out of me, his cock twisting and
adjusting with every move. I was nearly face down now, and he used both his
hands to raise me up to my knees, pushing deeper in as he did so. I cried
out again as his cock hit new places in me and my dripping cock jumped
under me. He adjusted my knees, lowering me to the place he wanted, then
his firm hand guided my shoulders down to the bed so that I was ass up and
well plugged.

He rotated my hips as he resumed his slow pumping, finding that place
inside that made me gasp and push back hard. When he was satisfied that he
had the angles right, he started pounding my ass in earnest. Holding my
hips, he pumped faster and faster, elongating his strokes until he was
nearly completely out at each pull. My ass was on fire, but my insides
craved more. I heard myself whimpering as his powerful thrusts rattled my
whole body.

His hands tightened on my hips, and if it were possible, he sped up his
thrusting, now pushing against me so hard his balls slapped mine. He was
gasping for air, almost growling, adding to my own vocalizations that I
could hardly identify as my own; a high pitched keening noise was coming
out of my throat.  I felt my balls bunch up, and an orgasm from nowhere
surged through me. Paulo slowed his rabbit fucking and held deep in me,
feeling my internal contractions as my cock emptied itself a second
time. He moaned from deep in his chest, then picked up the pace again, his
staccato breathing punctuated by hard, deep thrusts that kept my spent cock
hard and bouncing, spewing ropes of cum from the tip.

Suddenly, in mid frenetic fuck, he pulled completely out of me with. My
abused ass roared in pain as his thick cockhead passed through. Immediately
I felt a hot shot of semen on the back of my balls, a hard squirt that I
could actually hear. Another long, solid shot to my nuts, and Paulo
released the breath he was holding with a guttural, animal cry. I felt the
next shot on my ass, drenching my right cheek. Another shot surprised me by
landing at my shoulder first, and then roping down along my back.  Paulo's
gasping and groaning continued, and a few more shots must have missed me
entirely but I heard them landing on the bed somewhere.

My ass felt empty. No, not just my ass, my whole body felt empty without
Paulo's heat inside me. I didn't want to move, and although I was grateful
he didn't cum inside me, I was also disappointed he hadn't. I wanted him
back. I turned around, and completely out of character for me, I plunged my
mouth over his cock and proceeded to clean it off. Something drove me to
want to repay the feelings I'd been given. Paulo moaned and leaned back on
his haunches, still breathing rapidly. I was gentle, licking first, then
opening my mouth to take that spent cockhead and clean it completely. I let
my tongue probe around, and then when I could taste no more of his sweet
semen, I withdrew, not wanting to hurt his sensitive organ.

I worked my way up his body, kissing and running my tongue over every hill
and valley until I got to his full lips. He kissed me hard, swinging his
arms around me until we were locked together, then he lowered us both on to
the bed, unwinding his legs until were chest to chest again.

"Thank you so much" he whispered, "I have not cum in weeks, thank you,
thank you" he punctuated his sentence with a kiss, deep and long. My ass
was humming, my whole body was vibrating, and he was thanking me. I was
conflicted. On the one hand, I'd just engaged in bareback sex with a near
stranger that practically raped me. On the other hand, I'd like to do it
again. My body, spent, sated, and somewhat sore, relaxed and I pulled him
close.

We must have dozed off because an annoying buzzing was drawing my
attention. It took me a few moments for the fog to clear enough to
recognize the buzzing as my cell phone, tucked in my pants over in the
corner of the room. Paulo heard it too and stirred to life, then jerked
awake, turning to his dresser.

"It's mine" I said, giving him a quick hug. He sighed and rolled off me,
letting me get up to fish for the phone. I flipped it on at the last ring
before voicemail.

"Mr. Lewis? The tow driver is en route to your location. Are you near your
vehicle sir?" I'd forgotten about my car.

"Can he call me when he's almost here? I don't want to freeze to death
waiting for him" I snapped. The call was a harsh way back to reality. I was
putting my pants on as I talked.

"Yes sir, the driver will call when he's nearby, that will be in a about
fifteen minutes."

"Thank you" I said, and ended the call. I looked over to the bed. Paulo was
on his side, propping his head up with his hand.

"Tow truck?" he asked, looking a little sad. I nodded and pulled my arms
through my shirt sleeves.

"He's going to be here shortly, I have to go out to meet him."

Paulo nodded. I wondered if he was having second thoughts. Rather than get
all awkward, I dressed quickly. I was spared any weird silences by the
buzzing of the cell phone again. This time, it was his, rattling across the
dresser. He jumped from the bed to answer it, and I occupied myself with my
shoes.

The conversation was brief, and I wished my command of Portuguese were
better. Paulo spoke in hushed tones, and said `no' a lot. He wasn't as
adamant as his last conversation, but I could tell that he wasn't pleased
either.  As he hung up, my own phone buzzed; it was the driver. He was
around the corner.

"I have to go" I said, uncomfortable with feeling like I was bolting for
the door.

"I understand" he replied. He'd pulled on his boxers, his hands rubbing his
thighs nervously. The distance between us was only a few feet, but it felt
like an impassible gulf.

"Thank you Paulo, for your hospitality, and for, well, for
everything. You're a very special guy." I sounded like a greeting card even
to myself. Paulo smiled a little and nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Lewis. I hope maybe..." He trailed off. My brain was stuck
on `Mr. Lewis' considering he'd just fucked me stupid; you'd think he'd be
past the formality.

"Maybe?" I coaxed. I really didn't know what the hell I wanted. Back in my
clothes, I was starting to feel very out of sorts. He should be the one
with the aching ass, no me. My old top self was being deliberately obtuse,
making my bottom boy say the words I wanted to hear: `Will I see you
again?'

Paulo continued to rub his legs, "Maybe, you know, you can stay tonight?"
he finally asked. Quickly adding, "The storm is very bad, and I don't hear
plows."

My internal conflict crescendoed. I wanted a rematch, badly, with roles
reversed. But at the same time, I was beat. I craved my shower and
bed. After two eruptions, I was ready to go home and call it a night.

"I can't, Paulo" came out of my mouth before I realized it. "I want to, but
I can't" I said stupidly. I wasn't used to being the sub in anything, and
my forebrain was fighting hard to get me out of the situation while the
rest of me yearned to stay.

Paulo nodded again, "I understand, please drive carefully, OK?"

I bridged the gap between us and grabbed his shoulders, kissing him
hard. "Thank you" I said again. I turned quickly and gathered my suit and
coat before I changed my mind.  I stomped down the hallway, arguing with
myself all the way to the outer door. The storm hadn't abated one bit. In
no time I saw the bright orange lights flickering through the snow. I
pulled my coat tight. I was a bit sweaty still, and the wind cut through
every crevice. The driver was clearly not happy to be out in this mess, and
he assessed the situation very quickly. With the snow piled up, I had to
look twice to see which tire was flat.

"So you don't have a spare?" he asked.  He gave me that look that only
other guys get; the one that says, `what, you're too prissy to change a
tire yourself?'

"Yeah, I do, but it's under the fuckin truck" I replied by way of
explanation. He didn't like that either. He kicked the snow around and
looked at me, then went to his truck to get something. I backed up under
the awning to get out of the wind a bit.

The guy changed the tire quickly, having the advantage of a hydraulic jack
and bigger tools than come with the cars. I slunk out from the shelter to
open the tailgate to stow the flat tire and he shot me another smirk. Fuck
him, I thought, that's why I pay for the auto club. He stowed his gear and
motioned me up into his cab. The cab reeked of oil, cigarette smoke, and
sweat. The heater was cranked to the highest setting, but it was barely
keeping up with the cold creeping in from the exposed metal He filled out a
form and handed it to me to sign.

"Alls I need now is your club card" he said, tearing off a copy of the form
and shoving it into the console between us.

I reached into my back pocket for my wallet and realized that I didn't have
it. It must have fallen out in Paulo's room. The driver gave me a nasty
look.

"I must have left it inside" I said, patting my pockets uselessly. With my
overcoat open, I looked like I'd just rolled out of bed, which I had. A
little twinge in my ass reminded me of the very different world I'd just
stepped out of. The driver was staring down at me with a nasty smirk.
"Look, I'm sure you have the number there on the record, I mean do you
really need the card?" I pleaded. He kept staring, and I followed his
gaze. To my horror, there was a gob of cum on my pant leg.

"I really need the card" he growled, "or else I get into a lot of
trouble. You don't want that do you?" He looked up at me and gave me a
little smile that didn't move past his nose. "Got any other ideas?" he
asked. To emphasize his point, he adjusted his crotch. "Got really wet
changing that tire" he said, staring at my pants again.

To be continued...