Living It with Dylan chapter 2
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Sunday
“You guys fuck each other, then?” Scotty asked, before Dylan’d even returned from taking the guy’s bags down to my room. I was standing in the kitchen making him a drink and I was so surprised by the question that I nearly dropped the scotch bottle.
“Yeah we do,” I said, not facing my roommate’s old pal. “That okay with you?” Dylan had only been an out gay for a couple of years, and some of his friends still struggled with it.
“I was hoping you guys’d fuck me,” he said, and I turned to him, then, but I was so sure he was kidding I didn’t know what to do when his face showed he was plainly serious. I was expecting to make small talk about his flight, probably, or Italy and shit like that, so this wasn’t the type of conversation for which I was prepared. Dylan was ambling down the hall and laughed, so I laughed too, because apparently that’s how we were gonna handle that comment.
“Funny,” Dyl clapped him on the back, but Scott wouldn’t participate.
“I’m not joking,” he said, so Dylan had to address it for real.
“We don’t do that,” he said. “We keep it between us.”
“Is that so?” Scott smiled. “How mature of you.”
“How was your flight?” Dyl asked, and the conversation veered into more familiar waters after that.
“I can’t take your bed,” Scott said to me, that night when I showed him to my room. “That’s not cool.” It was a lot better than him sleeping in with Dyl, in my opinion, but I kept my mouth shut about that.
“I don’t mind a bit,” I assured him, because I love sharing a bed with Dylan anyway. We’d been living together as pals when we fell in love, and we were still in that two bedroom apartment. We each have our own room, of course, but we sleep together almost every night anyway, so when Scotty showed up on short notice, we just gave him my room. I went to Dylan’s bed that night pretty early, while Dyl and Scott sat up drinking and reminiscing about their undergrad years. Dyl’s in his second year of law school, and Scott just returned from our school’s Rome campus and has nowhere arranged to live while he writes his Master’s thesis. I know he wants to bunk with us, but I don’t want him here and I don’t think Dylan does either. At least I hope not.
I woke up that night like I sometimes do, with hands groping my hard cock, but something was weird, this time. Dylan’s hands were rough on me, not his usual gentle stroking, and when he took me in his mouth it wasn’t that soft wetness I’d become accustomed to, but dryish hard tonguing, and I finally woke up enough to realize it wasn’t something that was wrong, but everything that was.
“What the hell, Scott?” I mumbled, because even though the shock of this guy in my bed had jolted me awake, lots of my parts were still sleepy.
“Fuck me,” my roommate’s friend panted, and I couldn’t see him in the pitch dark of Dylan’s room, but I could feel him trying to mount me, trying to force my softening dick into his dry ass. “C’mon, man,” he slurred. “Help a brother out.”
“Get the fuck off me,” I pushed at him and rolled over to turn on the light. He was naked on the bed where I’d heaved him off me, gripping his erection like his life depended on it. I could smell whiskey on his breath even though his head was down almost by my feet. I yanked my boxers back up; he’d apparently pulled them down to massage me while I slept. “Where’s Dylan?” I asked, looking around. “Seriously, where’s Dylan?” Scott was still lying on my bed and was apparently so preoccupied with jerking his dick he hadn’t heard my question.
“Uh,” Scott ejaculated on Dyl’s bedding. “Oh…oh,” he grunted, pumping his dick fast and then relaxing as he slowed down.
“You done?” I asked, tersely, and he finally had the good grace to at least look embarrassed.
“Sorry man,” he was glancing around, probably for his clothes, which were strewn here and there on the floor and the bed. “Sorry.”
“Where’s Dyl?” I repeated, feeling fed up with this guy.
“He’s passed out,” he muttered, sitting up but kind of swaying. He got up to leave, lurching drunkenly toward the door. I followed him into my room, bringing the wastebasket from the bathroom in for when the guy started puking, and then went in to tend to my boyfriend.
“C’mon, hon,” I whispered at him, tugging his limp body to try to rouse him. He woke blearily, blinking at me and grinning.
“I love you,” he smiled, crawling into my arms so I could pick him up off the sofa.
“You gotta piss?” I asked, and he nodded at me, moving his hand gently on my face and gazing at me affectionately.
“I’m drunk as shit,” he replied, like that was an answer to my question. I took him into the bathroom and stood him in front of the john, kneeling next to him to take down his jeans so he wouldn’t urinate right in them. “I love you so much,” he repeated, grabbing my head and trying shove his dick into my mouth.
“Not now,” I spoke gently. “We can do that later,” I assured him, aiming his junk toward the toilet’s bowl and encouraging him. “Piss, bro.”
He did and I undressed him the rest of the way, him holding up his arms like a little kid to have his shirt removed and then resting his feet clumsily on my shoulder while I tugged off his Sperrys and peeled off his jeans.
He was asleep before I even pulled up the covers.
Monday
The next day was Monday and poor Dylan had to go to class early. I could sleep later because my first class wasn’t until ten and I didn’t have to work at the diner, but I got up with him, anyway, to try to help him out. I brought him coffee while he stood in the bathroom, staring vacuously at himself in the mirror.
“You okay?” I asked him, because he looked pretty miserable and smelled even worse than he looked. “You puke?”
“I didn’t,” he sighed. “But I think I’d have been better off if I had.”
“Want me to shower with you?” I offered. “Keep you upright?” and that made him smile.
“You think you can hold me up?” he asked, because he was certainly the larger of the two of us, but then I reminded him I’d carried his drunk self to bed.
“I’ll be fine,” he decided, after taking several tentative sips of the coffee. “Thanks for taking care of me, man.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” I said, but I went back to bed after he’d left.
“Rough day?” I asked, when he walked in around six that evening. “Scotty’s just getting up.” The guy’d been in the shower for almost an hour.
“You’re kidding me,” he laughed. “I envy that guy. Smells good.” He was talking about the dinner I’d prepared, which was Kung Pau Chicken.
“Sure does,” Scotty agreed, entering the room wearing only a towel.
“Put on clothes,” Dylan ordered him, and Scotty looked at him all innocent.
“I will,” he rubbed at his crotch, “I mean, unless you guys are in the mood.”
“Shut up already,” Dylan sighed, taking his seat at the table and closing his eyes against the strong pepper steam from the food I placed before him. “Eat dinner.”
Scotty stayed in the towel throughout the meal, which I thought was odd and which Dylan obviously found annoying, but when the meal was done he disappeared to get dressed. “Just in time to avoid helping with the dishes,” Dylan sniped. “Can you believe this guy?”
“He’s your friend,” I shrugged, because I wasn’t getting caught in that trap. My sister and I were like that – I had nothing good to say about her but if someone else put her down? Watch out.
“I guess,” Dylan admitted. “It’s just a lot’s changed since we were twenty-one and hung out all the time.” I nodded, but I felt a weird pang, too, because I was only twenty-one and I didn’t want to be looking back on Dylan in two years and feeling distant like that. “I mean since I came out and then he went to Rome and everything,” he added, like he knew what I was thinking, maybe, and he wrapped his arm around me where I stood at the sink and kissed the back of my neck.
“You’re so good to me,” he whispered, “and I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I nodded, and he turned me around to make out with me and I let him, feeling that electric charge in my insides that only happened with him. He was feeling randy, for sure, and pressed against me hard, all of his tall solid body against all of mine.
“You love me,” he muttered into my neck, his hands in my shirt, moving on my back while he pressed his erection against mine. “Show me how you love me.”
“Scotty’s here,” I reminded him, but that made him chuckle.
“Scotty can’t get dressed in less than forty-five minutes,” he grinned. “We have plenty of time.”
“Seriously?” I asked, because it’s not like Scotty was some sharp dresser. He looked exactly like every fraternity boy I’d ever known, honestly.
“He’s got OCD with some things,” Dyl explained, picking me up and putting me on the counter. He moved his head down between my legs, then, running his face over my zipper, breathing on me through the cloth of my jeans. “But let’s go to my room, anyway,” he added, picking me up, then. I wrapped my legs around him and he carried me like that into his room, where he dropped me onto his bed and started immediately undressing me. When I was naked he was still dressed, and he gazed at me for a moment, like he was taking me in.
“You’re perfect,” he said, and that made me laugh. My body wasn’t bad at all, honestly. I was tall and pretty lean and I knew I looked good in clothes, but Dylan’s muscled physique made me feel like a skinny dork by comparison and his graceful athleticism sometimes made me feel awkward and clumsy. My dick was big, though; at least I had that going for me.
“My dick’s perfect, you mean?” I teased, but Dylan looked at me very seriously.
“I mean all of you,” he looked almost stern. “You understand?”
“Okay,” I shrugged, because this conversation made me feel kind of strange, and Dylan sensed that, apparently, and lightened it up.
“The cock’s good, though,” he smiled, and I got up to undress him.
‘Better than good,” I insisted, and when I freed his erection we moved them against each other and I reached out to caress Dyl’s balls with my fingers.
“Much better than good,” he admitted. He was naked then, too, and he knelt down to take my better than good meat into his mouth and I moaned, “Oh, that’s much better than good,” because he was amazing, honestly. He smiled up at me, looking sexy as hell, and pushed me gently back onto the bed to eat my ass, which I loved beyond description. “Oh yeah,” I encouraged him, and he pressed his finger up into my butt and swam it around in there while he moved his mouth on my cock, which made me come about three bucketsful and I could feel my rectum, too, flexing on his hand because this orgasm involved my dick, my balls, and my ass in a way that’s impossible to explain, really, except to say it was amazing beyond belief and made me yell “Ah…ah…ah…ah!” until the throbbing stopped and my dick was (temporarily) emptied.
Rather than exhausting me, the ejaculation energized me and I threw him down onto the bed, then, to return the favor and then some. I rimmed him for a long time while he moaned and panted, and by the time he came I had two fingers jammed all the way up inside him while I massaged his balls with the other hand and sucked on him pretty hard with my wet mouth. “I’m coming baby,” he hollered, and that was true of his whole body, everywhere, because his was like mine, an all-over kind of thing, and his muscular asshole pounded my fingers, squeezing them while he dick shot semen down my willing throat and he held my head there, shoving his cock so deep I couldn’t breathe and I didn’t even care. “Swallow it,” he kept saying, and I kept him deep down in my gullet until I panicked a little bit and he let me up to catch a breath of air. When I kissed him, then, our tongues wrapped around one another joyfully.
“You’re throbbing on my hand,” I told him, my lips still at his mouth.
“Fuck me,” he insisted, his hungry ass lifting some as my fingers ground deeper into him, stretching him, readying him, and when I finally entered him my hard cock was ecstatic at its find, so happy to be in its favorite place ever. His muscles pulsed on me and that hole was so snug I could have come right then, seriously, but I knew what he wanted and what I wanted too.
When were first got together, we were both tops. We still are, sort of, but I definitely do more of the fucking than Dyl does, and he definitely craves a cock in his rectum a lot more often than I do, and tonight represented our usual modus operandi, for sure. It satisfied the hell out of me, honestly, and I didn’t hear any complaining from him when I inserted that hard-on into his ass. “Yeah,” he sighed, like it was a relief for him to even have me there, and then I waited a moment until his inner sphincters relaxed and let me push all the way in. Once past the gates, he wasn’t in much pain and his erection even started to return, so I fucked him in earnest, then, delving deep into my lover’s body while he cheered me on. “Oh, yeah, deep!” he’d moan, or “Fuck me hard!” and I’d follow his instructions while I took my pleasure, enjoying every second of it, loving every thrust I got to take into this beautiful man.
“I want to come,” he announced, and I turned him over so he was facing me, which was how I like it best, anyway, since he’s so fucking gorgeous and his O-face is so sexy it sometimes makes me finish, too. “Oh yeah,” he sighed, when I was back in him, and I put my hand on his while he jerked softly on his dick. I moved my hand down to his balls, then, and I ran my fingers over them gently while I slammed into his ass and left my cock deep in him like that, pressing against his prostate. His balls contracted under my fingertips and I said, “Oh yeah, dude,” to help him along and then I felt that amazing sensation on my cock; his ass clamped down on me and I had to move again, had to thrust because I was gonna come, too.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, and he ejaculated onto his belly right in front of me and the physical pulsation and the spurting visual brought me to that edge and over it, so I came right after, shoving my big cock deep into him to spray my seed in gasping, lurching, throbs. “Oh my God!” I kept saying, because it was unbelievable, the pleasure, and my warm semen gushed around inside him when I moved which made me howl, literally howl, with joy and pleasure.
We were elated, then, laughing in one another’s arms, wet with cum and sweat and sex, high from our corporeal stimulation and our emotional connection, and so when we heard Scott jerking off in the room next door it made us both giggle.
“Oh God guys!” Scott called, breathlessly, and I could hear my bed thumping beneath him.
“He’s gonna spew on my sheets,” I complained, but I was smiling when I said it because, honestly, I couldn’t stop grinning.
“No dry place for us tonight,” Dylan added, because we often adjourned to the other bed after we’d fucked in one, since so much of the mattress was usually a wet spot by the time we were done.
“I’ll sleep in your cum puddle,” I offered, snuggling next to him, his big arm around me.
“That’s gonna be my new nickname for you,” he smiled. “You’re my cum puddle, right darlin’?” I laughed, then, too, and nodded into his armpit.
“I’ll be your whatever you want,” I sighed, and we were both suddenly exhausted. “We didn’t finish the dishes,” I muttered, but Dyl was already asleep, breathing deeply.
“Oh yeah now fuck me deep!” Scott yelled from my room. “Yeah…oh…come inside me, dude,” and I closed my eyes, feeling peaceful, because I’d rather be me than anyone else in the world.
Tuesday
Scott slept all day again, probably exhausted from masturbating half the night, but we took him out to dinner, anyway, and that evening Dylan and I returned to our normal routines, including our pick-up basketball game that we attended no matter what. Scott slept through it, which was too bad because Dyl said he was quite the baller, but we didn’t miss him a bit as we gathered with our usual crew from our college’s ROTC program. We’d been playing together for over a year and we’d become pretty tight with some of the guys. We knew their girlfriends and wives, for example, and had already attended two of their weddings. It was a fluid group, because some of them were in the Reserves or were still active duty military, and we’d recently changed the game from Thursdays to accommodate some of the original guys who were just returning from tours in Iraq and Afghanistan; they had some therapy session that couldn’t be changed so we’d all moved our schedules around to play on Tuesdays, instead.
I loved balling with these guys and I’d always loved watching Dylan in action because he was grace personified on the basketball court, and he was aggressive, too, which always made me horny for him, even on the days he was picked for the opposite team. We jogged to and from the court, no matter the weather, and stopped on the way home so Dyl could do chin-ups and push-ups at the park. Dylan did this kind of thing every day, which was how he maintained his Adonis-like physique, and I didn’t want him to know it but watching him grunt and flex like that never ceased to arouse me.
“Let’s fuck before dinner,” I suggested, I had to almost run to keep up with his jog, but Dyl shook his head.
“I just have time to shower,” he said, reaching over to pat my ass as we slowed to a walk at the end of our block. “Our reservation’s at six. Sure you won’t join us?”
I couldn’t. I had a big paper due in the morning and dinner out with Dyl and Scottywould mean staying up half the night to edit it. “Don’t get too drunk,” I reached over and back to grab his butt, too, but he turned so my hand pressed his crotch instead. I noted, with some satisfaction, that he was sporting a semi like mine. “And wake me when you get home.”
“Oh I will, dude,” he laughed, wiping sweat from his face. “I feel kinda stupid telling you this, but watching you play ball tends to get me hot.”
“He wants to film us,” Dylan said late that night, and I was embarrassed that my cock grew suddenly harder when he said that, but he was licking it while he talked, to be fair, so it was gonna happen anyway. Apparently, he and Scotty’d discussed this while they were out eating together.
“He wants to film us fucking?” I asked, and Dylan nodded down at my dick, licking his finger and moving it on my ass while his other wet hand moved slowly up and down my shaft.
“Let’s cut it short tonight,” Dylan suggested, looking up at me apprehensively, worried what I’d say.
“I was gonna suggest the same thing,” I agreed. “I love doin’ you, but I don’t like that your pervert friend’s listening through the walls all the time.” I said that loudly, for Scott’s benefit, and I heard him say, “Fuck me then,” just as loudly, from my room.
Dylan moved his hands so expertly, I wasn’t gonna last long whether we agreed to it or not, and he moved his body on the bed so I could stroke his cock, too. I tongued his balls while I moved my wet hands on him, and soon his dick jerked in my grip and I felt his balls contract. “Yeah,” I whispered, right before he came in my hands and all over my lips. His cum tasted sweet to me, and I felt privileged to be drinking it right out of that magnificent man while his lonely friend lay next door alone, envying us. “I’m gonna come,” I muttered, but it was already happening and I shot jet after jet of hot cream down my lover’s throat, my entire core spasming with pleasure.
“We’re so lucky,” Dylan was gulping and talking at the same time. “We’re so blessed.”
“I know it,” I grunted, most my muscles still tensed from the intense ejaculation.
“Share the wealth!” Scott called from next door, and Dylan relaxed onto me, rubbing my still tight abs and gently massaging my softening cock.
“I gotta get rid of that guy,” Dylan sighed, and I couldn’t have agreed with him more.
“You guys fuck each other, then?” Scotty asked, before Dylan’d even returned from taking the guy’s bags down to my room. I was standing in the kitchen making him a drink and I was so surprised by the question that I nearly dropped the scotch bottle.
“Yeah we do,” I said, not facing my roommate’s old pal. “That okay with you?” Dylan had only been an out gay for a couple of years, and some of his friends still struggled with it.
“I was hoping you guys’d fuck me,” he said, and I turned to him, then, but I was so sure he was kidding I didn’t know what to do when his face showed he was plainly serious. I was expecting to make small talk about his flight, probably, or Italy and shit like that, so this wasn’t the type of conversation for which I was prepared. Dylan was ambling down the hall and laughed, so I laughed too, because apparently that’s how we were gonna handle that comment.
“Funny,” Dyl clapped him on the back, but Scott wouldn’t participate.
“I’m not joking,” he said, so Dylan had to address it for real.
“We don’t do that,” he said. “We keep it between us.”
“Is that so?” Scott smiled. “How mature of you.”
“How was your flight?” Dyl asked, and the conversation veered into more familiar waters after that.
“I can’t take your bed,” Scott said to me, that night when I showed him to my room. “That’s not cool.” It was a lot better than him sleeping in with Dyl, in my opinion, but I kept my mouth shut about that.
“I don’t mind a bit,” I assured him, because I love sharing a bed with Dylan anyway. We’d been living together as pals when we fell in love, and we were still in that two bedroom apartment. We each have our own room, of course, but we sleep together almost every night anyway, so when Scotty showed up on short notice, we just gave him my room. I went to Dylan’s bed that night pretty early, while Dyl and Scott sat up drinking and reminiscing about their undergrad years. Dyl’s in his second year of law school, and Scott just returned from our school’s Rome campus and has nowhere arranged to live while he writes his Master’s thesis. I know he wants to bunk with us, but I don’t want him here and I don’t think Dylan does either. At least I hope not.
I woke up that night like I sometimes do, with hands groping my hard cock, but something was weird, this time. Dylan’s hands were rough on me, not his usual gentle stroking, and when he took me in his mouth it wasn’t that soft wetness I’d become accustomed to, but dryish hard tonguing, and I finally woke up enough to realize it wasn’t something that was wrong, but everything that was.
“What the hell, Scott?” I mumbled, because even though the shock of this guy in my bed had jolted me awake, lots of my parts were still sleepy.
“Fuck me,” my roommate’s friend panted, and I couldn’t see him in the pitch dark of Dylan’s room, but I could feel him trying to mount me, trying to force my softening dick into his dry ass. “C’mon, man,” he slurred. “Help a brother out.”
“Get the fuck off me,” I pushed at him and rolled over to turn on the light. He was naked on the bed where I’d heaved him off me, gripping his erection like his life depended on it. I could smell whiskey on his breath even though his head was down almost by my feet. I yanked my boxers back up; he’d apparently pulled them down to massage me while I slept. “Where’s Dylan?” I asked, looking around. “Seriously, where’s Dylan?” Scott was still lying on my bed and was apparently so preoccupied with jerking his dick he hadn’t heard my question.
“Uh,” Scott ejaculated on Dyl’s bedding. “Oh…oh,” he grunted, pumping his dick fast and then relaxing as he slowed down.
“You done?” I asked, tersely, and he finally had the good grace to at least look embarrassed.
“Sorry man,” he was glancing around, probably for his clothes, which were strewn here and there on the floor and the bed. “Sorry.”
“Where’s Dyl?” I repeated, feeling fed up with this guy.
“He’s passed out,” he muttered, sitting up but kind of swaying. He got up to leave, lurching drunkenly toward the door. I followed him into my room, bringing the wastebasket from the bathroom in for when the guy started puking, and then went in to tend to my boyfriend.
“C’mon, hon,” I whispered at him, tugging his limp body to try to rouse him. He woke blearily, blinking at me and grinning.
“I love you,” he smiled, crawling into my arms so I could pick him up off the sofa.
“You gotta piss?” I asked, and he nodded at me, moving his hand gently on my face and gazing at me affectionately.
“I’m drunk as shit,” he replied, like that was an answer to my question. I took him into the bathroom and stood him in front of the john, kneeling next to him to take down his jeans so he wouldn’t urinate right in them. “I love you so much,” he repeated, grabbing my head and trying shove his dick into my mouth.
“Not now,” I spoke gently. “We can do that later,” I assured him, aiming his junk toward the toilet’s bowl and encouraging him. “Piss, bro.”
He did and I undressed him the rest of the way, him holding up his arms like a little kid to have his shirt removed and then resting his feet clumsily on my shoulder while I tugged off his Sperrys and peeled off his jeans.
He was asleep before I even pulled up the covers.
Monday
The next day was Monday and poor Dylan had to go to class early. I could sleep later because my first class wasn’t until ten and I didn’t have to work at the diner, but I got up with him, anyway, to try to help him out. I brought him coffee while he stood in the bathroom, staring vacuously at himself in the mirror.
“You okay?” I asked him, because he looked pretty miserable and smelled even worse than he looked. “You puke?”
“I didn’t,” he sighed. “But I think I’d have been better off if I had.”
“Want me to shower with you?” I offered. “Keep you upright?” and that made him smile.
“You think you can hold me up?” he asked, because he was certainly the larger of the two of us, but then I reminded him I’d carried his drunk self to bed.
“I’ll be fine,” he decided, after taking several tentative sips of the coffee. “Thanks for taking care of me, man.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” I said, but I went back to bed after he’d left.
“Rough day?” I asked, when he walked in around six that evening. “Scotty’s just getting up.” The guy’d been in the shower for almost an hour.
“You’re kidding me,” he laughed. “I envy that guy. Smells good.” He was talking about the dinner I’d prepared, which was Kung Pau Chicken.
“Sure does,” Scotty agreed, entering the room wearing only a towel.
“Put on clothes,” Dylan ordered him, and Scotty looked at him all innocent.
“I will,” he rubbed at his crotch, “I mean, unless you guys are in the mood.”
“Shut up already,” Dylan sighed, taking his seat at the table and closing his eyes against the strong pepper steam from the food I placed before him. “Eat dinner.”
Scotty stayed in the towel throughout the meal, which I thought was odd and which Dylan obviously found annoying, but when the meal was done he disappeared to get dressed. “Just in time to avoid helping with the dishes,” Dylan sniped. “Can you believe this guy?”
“He’s your friend,” I shrugged, because I wasn’t getting caught in that trap. My sister and I were like that – I had nothing good to say about her but if someone else put her down? Watch out.
“I guess,” Dylan admitted. “It’s just a lot’s changed since we were twenty-one and hung out all the time.” I nodded, but I felt a weird pang, too, because I was only twenty-one and I didn’t want to be looking back on Dylan in two years and feeling distant like that. “I mean since I came out and then he went to Rome and everything,” he added, like he knew what I was thinking, maybe, and he wrapped his arm around me where I stood at the sink and kissed the back of my neck.
“You’re so good to me,” he whispered, “and I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I nodded, and he turned me around to make out with me and I let him, feeling that electric charge in my insides that only happened with him. He was feeling randy, for sure, and pressed against me hard, all of his tall solid body against all of mine.
“You love me,” he muttered into my neck, his hands in my shirt, moving on my back while he pressed his erection against mine. “Show me how you love me.”
“Scotty’s here,” I reminded him, but that made him chuckle.
“Scotty can’t get dressed in less than forty-five minutes,” he grinned. “We have plenty of time.”
“Seriously?” I asked, because it’s not like Scotty was some sharp dresser. He looked exactly like every fraternity boy I’d ever known, honestly.
“He’s got OCD with some things,” Dyl explained, picking me up and putting me on the counter. He moved his head down between my legs, then, running his face over my zipper, breathing on me through the cloth of my jeans. “But let’s go to my room, anyway,” he added, picking me up, then. I wrapped my legs around him and he carried me like that into his room, where he dropped me onto his bed and started immediately undressing me. When I was naked he was still dressed, and he gazed at me for a moment, like he was taking me in.
“You’re perfect,” he said, and that made me laugh. My body wasn’t bad at all, honestly. I was tall and pretty lean and I knew I looked good in clothes, but Dylan’s muscled physique made me feel like a skinny dork by comparison and his graceful athleticism sometimes made me feel awkward and clumsy. My dick was big, though; at least I had that going for me.
“My dick’s perfect, you mean?” I teased, but Dylan looked at me very seriously.
“I mean all of you,” he looked almost stern. “You understand?”
“Okay,” I shrugged, because this conversation made me feel kind of strange, and Dylan sensed that, apparently, and lightened it up.
“The cock’s good, though,” he smiled, and I got up to undress him.
‘Better than good,” I insisted, and when I freed his erection we moved them against each other and I reached out to caress Dyl’s balls with my fingers.
“Much better than good,” he admitted. He was naked then, too, and he knelt down to take my better than good meat into his mouth and I moaned, “Oh, that’s much better than good,” because he was amazing, honestly. He smiled up at me, looking sexy as hell, and pushed me gently back onto the bed to eat my ass, which I loved beyond description. “Oh yeah,” I encouraged him, and he pressed his finger up into my butt and swam it around in there while he moved his mouth on my cock, which made me come about three bucketsful and I could feel my rectum, too, flexing on his hand because this orgasm involved my dick, my balls, and my ass in a way that’s impossible to explain, really, except to say it was amazing beyond belief and made me yell “Ah…ah…ah…ah!” until the throbbing stopped and my dick was (temporarily) emptied.
Rather than exhausting me, the ejaculation energized me and I threw him down onto the bed, then, to return the favor and then some. I rimmed him for a long time while he moaned and panted, and by the time he came I had two fingers jammed all the way up inside him while I massaged his balls with the other hand and sucked on him pretty hard with my wet mouth. “I’m coming baby,” he hollered, and that was true of his whole body, everywhere, because his was like mine, an all-over kind of thing, and his muscular asshole pounded my fingers, squeezing them while he dick shot semen down my willing throat and he held my head there, shoving his cock so deep I couldn’t breathe and I didn’t even care. “Swallow it,” he kept saying, and I kept him deep down in my gullet until I panicked a little bit and he let me up to catch a breath of air. When I kissed him, then, our tongues wrapped around one another joyfully.
“You’re throbbing on my hand,” I told him, my lips still at his mouth.
“Fuck me,” he insisted, his hungry ass lifting some as my fingers ground deeper into him, stretching him, readying him, and when I finally entered him my hard cock was ecstatic at its find, so happy to be in its favorite place ever. His muscles pulsed on me and that hole was so snug I could have come right then, seriously, but I knew what he wanted and what I wanted too.
When were first got together, we were both tops. We still are, sort of, but I definitely do more of the fucking than Dyl does, and he definitely craves a cock in his rectum a lot more often than I do, and tonight represented our usual modus operandi, for sure. It satisfied the hell out of me, honestly, and I didn’t hear any complaining from him when I inserted that hard-on into his ass. “Yeah,” he sighed, like it was a relief for him to even have me there, and then I waited a moment until his inner sphincters relaxed and let me push all the way in. Once past the gates, he wasn’t in much pain and his erection even started to return, so I fucked him in earnest, then, delving deep into my lover’s body while he cheered me on. “Oh, yeah, deep!” he’d moan, or “Fuck me hard!” and I’d follow his instructions while I took my pleasure, enjoying every second of it, loving every thrust I got to take into this beautiful man.
“I want to come,” he announced, and I turned him over so he was facing me, which was how I like it best, anyway, since he’s so fucking gorgeous and his O-face is so sexy it sometimes makes me finish, too. “Oh yeah,” he sighed, when I was back in him, and I put my hand on his while he jerked softly on his dick. I moved my hand down to his balls, then, and I ran my fingers over them gently while I slammed into his ass and left my cock deep in him like that, pressing against his prostate. His balls contracted under my fingertips and I said, “Oh yeah, dude,” to help him along and then I felt that amazing sensation on my cock; his ass clamped down on me and I had to move again, had to thrust because I was gonna come, too.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, and he ejaculated onto his belly right in front of me and the physical pulsation and the spurting visual brought me to that edge and over it, so I came right after, shoving my big cock deep into him to spray my seed in gasping, lurching, throbs. “Oh my God!” I kept saying, because it was unbelievable, the pleasure, and my warm semen gushed around inside him when I moved which made me howl, literally howl, with joy and pleasure.
We were elated, then, laughing in one another’s arms, wet with cum and sweat and sex, high from our corporeal stimulation and our emotional connection, and so when we heard Scott jerking off in the room next door it made us both giggle.
“Oh God guys!” Scott called, breathlessly, and I could hear my bed thumping beneath him.
“He’s gonna spew on my sheets,” I complained, but I was smiling when I said it because, honestly, I couldn’t stop grinning.
“No dry place for us tonight,” Dylan added, because we often adjourned to the other bed after we’d fucked in one, since so much of the mattress was usually a wet spot by the time we were done.
“I’ll sleep in your cum puddle,” I offered, snuggling next to him, his big arm around me.
“That’s gonna be my new nickname for you,” he smiled. “You’re my cum puddle, right darlin’?” I laughed, then, too, and nodded into his armpit.
“I’ll be your whatever you want,” I sighed, and we were both suddenly exhausted. “We didn’t finish the dishes,” I muttered, but Dyl was already asleep, breathing deeply.
“Oh yeah now fuck me deep!” Scott yelled from my room. “Yeah…oh…come inside me, dude,” and I closed my eyes, feeling peaceful, because I’d rather be me than anyone else in the world.
Tuesday
Scott slept all day again, probably exhausted from masturbating half the night, but we took him out to dinner, anyway, and that evening Dylan and I returned to our normal routines, including our pick-up basketball game that we attended no matter what. Scott slept through it, which was too bad because Dyl said he was quite the baller, but we didn’t miss him a bit as we gathered with our usual crew from our college’s ROTC program. We’d been playing together for over a year and we’d become pretty tight with some of the guys. We knew their girlfriends and wives, for example, and had already attended two of their weddings. It was a fluid group, because some of them were in the Reserves or were still active duty military, and we’d recently changed the game from Thursdays to accommodate some of the original guys who were just returning from tours in Iraq and Afghanistan; they had some therapy session that couldn’t be changed so we’d all moved our schedules around to play on Tuesdays, instead.
I loved balling with these guys and I’d always loved watching Dylan in action because he was grace personified on the basketball court, and he was aggressive, too, which always made me horny for him, even on the days he was picked for the opposite team. We jogged to and from the court, no matter the weather, and stopped on the way home so Dyl could do chin-ups and push-ups at the park. Dylan did this kind of thing every day, which was how he maintained his Adonis-like physique, and I didn’t want him to know it but watching him grunt and flex like that never ceased to arouse me.
“Let’s fuck before dinner,” I suggested, I had to almost run to keep up with his jog, but Dyl shook his head.
“I just have time to shower,” he said, reaching over to pat my ass as we slowed to a walk at the end of our block. “Our reservation’s at six. Sure you won’t join us?”
I couldn’t. I had a big paper due in the morning and dinner out with Dyl and Scottywould mean staying up half the night to edit it. “Don’t get too drunk,” I reached over and back to grab his butt, too, but he turned so my hand pressed his crotch instead. I noted, with some satisfaction, that he was sporting a semi like mine. “And wake me when you get home.”
“Oh I will, dude,” he laughed, wiping sweat from his face. “I feel kinda stupid telling you this, but watching you play ball tends to get me hot.”
“He wants to film us,” Dylan said late that night, and I was embarrassed that my cock grew suddenly harder when he said that, but he was licking it while he talked, to be fair, so it was gonna happen anyway. Apparently, he and Scotty’d discussed this while they were out eating together.
“He wants to film us fucking?” I asked, and Dylan nodded down at my dick, licking his finger and moving it on my ass while his other wet hand moved slowly up and down my shaft.
“Let’s cut it short tonight,” Dylan suggested, looking up at me apprehensively, worried what I’d say.
“I was gonna suggest the same thing,” I agreed. “I love doin’ you, but I don’t like that your pervert friend’s listening through the walls all the time.” I said that loudly, for Scott’s benefit, and I heard him say, “Fuck me then,” just as loudly, from my room.
Dylan moved his hands so expertly, I wasn’t gonna last long whether we agreed to it or not, and he moved his body on the bed so I could stroke his cock, too. I tongued his balls while I moved my wet hands on him, and soon his dick jerked in my grip and I felt his balls contract. “Yeah,” I whispered, right before he came in my hands and all over my lips. His cum tasted sweet to me, and I felt privileged to be drinking it right out of that magnificent man while his lonely friend lay next door alone, envying us. “I’m gonna come,” I muttered, but it was already happening and I shot jet after jet of hot cream down my lover’s throat, my entire core spasming with pleasure.
“We’re so lucky,” Dylan was gulping and talking at the same time. “We’re so blessed.”
“I know it,” I grunted, most my muscles still tensed from the intense ejaculation.
“Share the wealth!” Scott called from next door, and Dylan relaxed onto me, rubbing my still tight abs and gently massaging my softening cock.
“I gotta get rid of that guy,” Dylan sighed, and I couldn’t have agreed with him more.
Hester
- 29.02.2020
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- Category:
- Gay Male
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