Clarke's Visit free porn video

Clarke's Visit

I sat with dad and mom in the TV lounge, anxiously waiting, my mind
buzzing through thoughts like a bee over a field of flowers - last
Christmas, a few months ago, my brother Clarke in all of those thoughts. I
thought of him after school, in his uniform, taking off his uniform, then
switched to watching his face as he watched some TV, watching him chew -- I
loved his strong jaws, loved everything about him. . . I got lost in the
moment, and pictured him sitting beside me, and my hands wandered to the
empty seat next to me where I imagined his leg to be, and I felt his arm on
my shoulder. I was going insane!

Clarke had left for college a couple months ago. I had called him
every day for the first couple of weeks, emailed him countless times a day,
texted even more, and still had tons of stories to share with him when he
got back.

I was impatiently shaking my knee, dad looked at me several times in
annoyance, but he smiled back with a knowing expression when I looked up at
him. Mom and dad had felt the change after Clarke had left too. The house
was quieter, I spent less time at home, and even less time with them -- on
some nights the two of them would prolong dinner just to have a
conversation with me. Dad would knock on my door, speak for a little while
but then leave soon after my one word responses . . . he missed Clarke a
great deal too, that I was sure of. I often felt that dad lobed Clarke more
than he loved me, but I was okay with that . . .

I looked up at the clock, and it was near the time that we had
expected his arrival. One minute passed, five minutes, ten minutes, and
just as mom and I were about to simultaneously call him, we heard a honk on
the drive.

"Ah, he's here," dad said as calmly as he could, but even he could
not hide his excitement. I was out the door and walked really fast -- okay
I did run a little, shoving dad out of the way -- to Clarke's car and gave
him the tightest, most heartfelt hug in the world. I held on a little
longer, and so did he, trying to force our bodies to behave, but I figured
no one would notice the stirring in our pants. In a moment I felt dad's
hands rest on my back and pull me closer to Clarke as he joined in.

"Okay, you guys are going to suffocate me!" Clarke managed to
protest.

I was smiling ear to ear, and so was Clarke. He was a little nervous as he
looked at me, and dad was making small talk with him, mom gave him a hug
that rivaled both mine and dads put together, she appraised his appearance,
and was happy. He looked pretty much the same. A little manlier for some
reason, but I could not have cared what he looked like. Clarke was back
home!!!!

That day was spent just chatting, catching up. Mom prepared a light lunch,
dad asked Clarke a lot of questions, mom had to stop him several times and
ask him to give Clarke a chance to eat something. His lips looked so
appealing . . . I mostly listened, and watched, just drawing him in. God I
loved him. Once again I could see him in the flesh, take in all of his
amazing features. I was rock hard under the table, and thankfully there was
no need to worry about anything.

After lunch we helped cleared up the back porch table and chatted some
more, and then Clarke said that he wanted to go for a drive with me. Dad
suggested that he join us, saying that Clarke had driven all morning, but
my hero said that he was okay, he wanted to spend some time with me and
stuff, and dad eased off.

The sun was still quite strong at about five pm, and Clarke drove to the
local park. On our way there he asked about school, about me and stuff in
general. The place was fairly quiet, we could hear k**s playing not too far
off, a gentle breeze made the leaves rustle now and again, but on the
whole, we could easily find a quiet spot. We chatted as we walked along a
path, and not too long after came to a little corner formed by shrubbery
and a tree. Knowing that there was no one around, he innocently walked into
the thicket. I looked right, then left, suddenly he grabbed me in with him
and pushed me up against the tree. I sucked in some air, and then his hot,
moist lips were locked with mine . . . ah I missed this . . .

At first it was hard and demanding, like gulping fresh cool water after a
long run. Then he would kiss me gently, and then just look at me . . . his
eyes caught the sunlight several times, I loved those eyes . . . he would
say my name and hold me tightly to himself, kissing my neck, careful not to
cause any marks, his crotch was grinding against mine, occasionally his
belt would hurt me but I never complained . . . I missed kissing him too
much. I felt his strong back, his firm arms, and his hard abs . . . I was
so turned on, and he just didn't stop kissing me.

"Clarke," I panted to him, but he held my face in place as he
sucked and lapped at my lips, I was about to cream my pants from all his
grinding . . . my strong big brothers hard throbbing weiner rubbing against
me through my shorts, his hairy legs rubbing against mine, the hard
abrasive tree trunk at my back, his demanding hands all over me, and his
scent just filling my nostrils, intoxicating me . . . I shot five good
loads in my pants, stifling my moans against his lips, and the stud-devil
Clarke giggling as he kissed my neck, driving me over the edge, loving the
feel of his little b*o ecstatically cumming in his arms.

I felt terribly uncomfortable after that, my shorts were wet with thick
sticky cum. Clarke was undoing my belt, still kissing me lightly.

"What if some one sees!" I whispered, I asked him to stop, saying
'no' a few times, but he assured me that we were perfectly fine, I lost
most of my inhibition, and he was crouching at my waist, his face level
with my still hard weiner, coated with fresh warm cum. He took me right
into his mouth, taking me in almost to the base. I was waiting to feel his
nose poke against me as it always did, but it didn't . . . maybe it's
because he hadn't in a long time . . . Clarke was sucking me clean,
licking my balls and short pubes, his hands gripping my shaft and making
sure that he got the last drop, literally sucking at my urethral opening
like a straw, I began to soften a little, but only just.

I lifted him onto his feet and kissed him hard, shifting my weight and
switching positions with him, I kissed him and as I did he helped to get my
shorts done. I was kissing his neck, undoing his jeans and his hands
settled over mine.

"It's getting late," he said, pulling me back up to my feet,
kissing me . . . that made me feel a bit rejected. I am certain he noticed
. . . he kissed me again, this time in the in one of the most loving ways
imaginable.He gave my butt a good fondle and held me in his arms, looking
down at me, "we have all night Greg," he smiled, "there," he kissed me,
"is," kissed again, "so," again, "much," kiss, "I," kissed again, this time
more deeply, and I could feel his hardness in his pants, "wanna do to you
Gregory. . ."

He kissed me some more, and finally, with a groan, forced himself to stop
as the sun grew weaker. Only then did I realize how late it had gotten.

We walked to his car, his arm on my shoulder, unquestioningly brothers.

_________________________________________

The drive back home was torturous. I was rock hard all the way, and
I had a feeling of intense burning in my chest . . . with Gregory beside
me, my lips and mouth grew dry -- I could taste the strong flavor of his
cum all over my tongue, and each time I heard him breathe my heart skipped
a beat. I was so in love with him, though I still felt a deep feeling of
betrayal.

"We will have the entire night all to ourselves!" I heard him
whisper in excitement as we pulled up the drive. I smiled heartily at his
handsome face, looked deep into his eyes and mouthed an `I love you Greg,'
which I meant with all my heart, mind, body, soul, atom and fiber of my
being . . .

Mom and dad stayed up with us late into the night, finally after many
questions about my accommodation and comfort at school mom retired to bed,
but dad sat with his boys in the den. Greg and I exchanged a look when he
stepped away for a moment, and in that moment I could have lifted my
brother up against the door and pounded the daylights out of him, but, dad
was back, and this time with a case of beers. He first handed me one,
looked at Gregory for a moment, and then handed him one, which he accepted
uncomfortably. Dad took a seat in his chair and then looked in my
direction.

"So," he took a sip and swallowed, wearing his enquiring face, "you
found a young lady for yourself yet son?" a knot developed in my stomach, I
must have turned a shade of red, and then I shook my head in the
negative. Dad sighed, and Gregory . . . well, at that moment I could not
tell what my cute little brother was feeling. He could have been overjoyed
that I was single -- which would have made me feel some-what happy -- or he
could have felt nothing -- which would have made me feel sad that he didn't
care.

"Hmmm," dad smirked, "your arms do look a little firmer," and to
that he winked at Gregory.

It was a little strange, seeing the two of them be best of friends. I was
Greg's best friend, and he was mine. I forced myself to bury my jealousy
and uneasiness and chuckled along with the two of them. Obviously, they had
grown closer. I was glad for that, but also extremely jealous. Greg was
mine. And dad, well, he was a whole other ball game . . .

Dad asked me loads of questions, about several concentrated topics -- sport
on campus, women, classes and a wide array of random things, like the best
food I could get my hands on, bars and my room-mates.

Gregory was growing tired, and drunk. Dad had really eased up on him I
noticed. He handed my little brother drink after drink which was a little
scary, but also soothing in an odd kind of way. It meant that the two had
found common ground, and that they had bonded. I was jealous again.

I needed to use the toilet and stood up, "going to take a leak," I stated
left.

When I got back dad was sitting alone, sipping his beer and staring at
nothing, but I could tell that his mind was not at ease.

He glanced at me when I walked in, "you are being safe, right son?" he
asked seriously, "using condoms I mean?"

"Yes dad," I responded easily in Gregory's absence.

"Good." He responded. I took a sip of my beer and stared into
nothingness as well, my mind drifting into nothingness like him . . .

"I missed you Clarke," dad said, his voice changing, falling to one
of his softer, gentler, and most intimate of tones.

"I missed you too dad," I responded. I did miss him, and at that
moment, I found his strong chest very appealing, the large bulge in his
shorts brought back so many memories of my younger years . . . "where is
Greg?" I asked him, wheeling myself back into the present.

"He said that he was heading to bed," dad said a little
disappointed, "he's a little upset with me for interrupting your reunion."
Dad was sad. I felt it right then too . . . "you should go up to him, he's
been talking of spending time with you non-stop."

"And you will be okay?" I asked dad, standing up, and my rock hard
erection pointing right at him. Dad stared at me, knowing that my passions
were not for him . . .

"Of course," dad responded, standing up to, walking with me toward
the stairs, "you spend the night with him like he wants," dad maneuvered me
against the door, his hands on my neck and my steel-hard-pole, "tomorrow
morning when your mother and brother leave," he lowered his head and
nibbled at my lips, pressing his own rock hard member against me, "you haul
your ass into my bed," he kissed me deeply, hard and demandingly, "this,"
he grabbed my ass and pressed me against him hard, suffocating me against
the closed door, "belongs to me."

I took a moment to gather myself after he left for bed, and then walked
upstairs myself. Dad was always a demanding lover . . . I liked it a lot.

Gregory was at his computer, checking emails I suppose, or just chatting a
little with a friend, he looked at me and smiled when I walked in. He had
signed out and logged off by the time I had walked across the room and
landed on the bed with a thud, my face in my hands and my elbows resting on
my knees.

Gregory was on his knees before me, looking up at my face, I looked back at
him hungrily, hard as fuck. In no time I felt him ease me fully on my back
as he tackled my belt buckle, fumbling in his desperation. My pants flew
across the room, and he pulled out my hard throbbing big b*o cock through
the fly of my shorts. I was numb, but I could feel his lips and tongue
work me, lapping up my semen, sweat and traces of urine. Fuck this k**
drove me wild . . . and yet I still felt I had betrayed him grandly . . .

Gregory was taking me in slowly, savoring my essence and making me pour out
my love juice for him like a faucet. He took it all in like a champion,
right down to the hilt, his nose resting in my musky pubes. I could feel
his tongue licking at the underside base of my shaft, right between my
balls, full of cum, waiting for him to suck right out of me. Gregory
manipulated my raging cock for all it was worth, bringing me near the edge
and then easing off, again and again, until I could take it no more and
lost it. Like the pro he was, he knew when his big b*o was going to shoot
and managed to rest my firing cock-head in his mouth, taking all of my seed
into his mouth, tasting me, savoring me, moaning in pleasure, with me as I
unloaded spoonfuls into his hot mouth. I heard him swallow my entire load
in one great gulp, and felt his lips scour my hardness for any stray
strands of my pearly white man cream.

"Fuck Greg . . ." I said to him, lifting his face up to mine so
that I could kiss him. His mouth tasted sweet, not with just the taste of
my cum, but from his own flavor, his tongue soft, yet strong. I could feel
soft stubble against his face, his smooth muscle rubbing against my chest,
his slightly hairy legs rubbing close against mine as we got entangled in
bed like so many times before . . . in that moment I knew that I was
alive. All manner of drunkenness fled away as I realized I had the love of
my life in my arms, and I took over, pulling off his shirt, pinning him to
the bed as I licked and kissed his neck, his chest, his arms, feeling him
in my hands, my k** brother, this hot little stud . . . he kissed back,
biting my ears gently, I loved when he did that. . . I bit and nibbled at
his hardened nipples, supple and red in the dim light from the moon
outside.

I had to have him, had to get deep inside him, show him how precious he was
to me, how much I loved him . . . his pants slid of easily, and by instinct
he moved his legs apart, making place for me in his most intimate of
places. I licked my finger and found that his entrance was moist, smooth
and slid in easily. He was tight . . . so tight . . . I got even harder, if
that was possible . . . I reached in with my finger, gently finding my way
to his fuck-me-button, and he responded appropriately.

Gregory was whimpering and moaning in my arms as I got in two fingers,
grazing his prostate in perpetual pleasure, at times like that I loved
kissing him, it excited him, being in my complete control, and that in
return made me happy, hard and horny for him. Three fingers in and he was
near heaven. I had made him orgasm six times this way, his large cock soft
and throbbing in pleasure, oozing pre-cum. I lapped it all up, and kissed
him deeply, hard, pressing myself against him, chest to chest, the only
space between our bodies being the air pockets between our hairs.

My hard cock was nudging at his soft, flaccid cock, his heavy balls making
contact with mine . . . he was making me go crazy . . .

Gregory got hard, rock fucking hard as I rubbed against him a little more,
kissing him here and there, and marking him where no one could see . . . I
kissed his little Adam's apple, pinched at his nipples, and moved my
dripping hardness closer to his hot waiting hole, my little brothers
offering of love. . .

I slid in with little trouble. He was pushing out big time, which made the
feeling that much more intense, it had been such a long while since I had
been inside him . . . I slid in only a little, spending some time at the
depth of his prostate, teasing him, pleasuring him with the head of my hard
cock, rubbing the two together, gently, softly, and making love to him, to
his body and soul with my lips, my hands and my big b*o cock.

Gregory orgasmed again with my manipulation on his prostate, another dry
and yet fulfilling burst of sheer pleasure. As he was coming down from his
orgasm, I gently pushed in all the way in, his smooth balls resting against
me, tickled by my short pubic hair. I just stayed still a moment, feeling
his insides, feeling his body pulse against my hardness, his heart against
my chest. I looked down at him, and he opened his eyes. I lowered my head
and kissed him, beginning to drive into him as deep as I could, which was
all of me, and then pull out just an inch, then back in again, gaining
speed and momentum, kissing him hard and fucking him deep, fast and
desperately.

A moan escaped his lips, and I placed a hand over his mouth, kissing his
neck, his chest and holding one of his legs up as I rested against his
chest and pounded him like I hadn't in a long time. Greg's cock was so
hard, and dripping cum like crazy, now and again he neared orgasm, and
would emit some of his sweet cum between us, making his cock slide more
freely and pleasurably between us. I changed my depth and my speed often,
my lips barely separating from his, holding him suspended in a state of
perpetual orgasm, his prostate on fire . . . I could feel it each time I
made him cum, his anal muscles would freeze, tighten and attempt to push me
out of him, and that would make me drive in deeper, harder and with greater
desperation, each and every time.

We must have been at it for hours . . . we had changed positions over and
over again, Gregory was moaning and whimpering against me non-stop, I was
rock hard, having prolonged my orgasm over and over again, to his
pleasure. I could hear a cock crow somewhere in the distance; we had been
breeding all night and were well into the morning. Gregory was in such
intense pleasure and he was so weak, worn out by my relentless breeding, I
loved it and could not bring myself to stop . . . his silky canal felt so
fine against my hard throbbing cock. . .

I flipped him over one final time, feeling the weariness in my own eyes,
onto his stomach again, resting myself completely on him, pressing my
entire weight onto his smaller frame, my head next to his, licking at him,
my hands playing and pinching his nipples, my legs holding his pinned to
the bed and my other hand holding his head at a good kissing angle.

I planned to breed him at last, my balls were aching for a release, his
body as well as mine was covered in sweat, I'm certain the room was filled
with the scent of our relentless fucking and love-making, I for one was
content, and that he was not begging me not to stop I knew that he was in a
good place, he had had his fill. . .

I dove deep into Gregory, feeling the pressure of my thrusts inside him
against the mattress, hearing him whimper made me go crazy with lust
. . . fuck I loved this k** . . . my heavy aching balls were slamming
against his, his tongue was wrestling with mine wearily, his body was weak
and tired, and he was all mine, in my arms, just there for my pleasure. . .

After a few minutes, I made him cum again, dry like the last few times, but
he was still hard, not rock hard but hard non-the-less, and I was so turned
on by his submission . . . I kissed him, deeply, grazing my
moustache-stubble against his softer lips, pressing harder against him,
long-dicking his sweet tender ass . . . holding on so tightly, my mind
fighting the urge to fight off another orgasm and use him a little longer,
but this time the pressure of his muscles was too much, it was as if his
entire insides were fighting me, forcing me out of him, yet paving a smooth
and slick crevice for me, and then, when he could take it no more, when he
began to orgasm for the last time, when he had to bite into the pillow
below him to mask his intense feeling of pleasure turned to soreness and
pain, when he shut his eyes so tight I was certain he would black out, I
shot several, hot, thick sticky ropes of cum deep inside him, right into
his very bowels, breeding my little brother, marking him as my own, with my
seed, completing the session of our coupling for the night . . . I felt my
balls lighten, felt my entire body relax and give up, my brain telling my
nerves and muscles `mission accomplished.'

I let out a soft but guttural sigh of pleasure, pounding my little brother
the hardest in those final thrusts, driving him across the bed, gripping
him so tight I was sure to leave a few red marks on him. . .

"Greg . . ." I whispered to him, kissing him gently on his neck, "I
love you," but he was already asleep . . .

The last thought on my mind before I dozed off myself, still planted deep
inside him, still thick and filled with blood, my semi-soft breeder
releasing its last drops of cum, was dad, and that I'm sure, kept me hard
all night.

The next morning I was exhausted beyond dead. Gregory kissed me
goodbye rather quietly and sadly as he left for school, I did not see mom
as she left for work, but dad however, he pounced into Gregory's bed as
soon as her car left the drive.

"Son!" He growled into my ear. There was a side to him I think that
only I have seen. Not even mom. Dad was very possessive with me, very
protective, however he would let me do anything and support me, and yet
also very firm. I could feel his hard cock press into my back as he humped
his crotch against me, feeling me up under the covers, pinching my nipples,
kissing the back of my neck, my back, feeling my arms . . .

He turned me around, after pulling and kicking the covers away. I got the
fresh smell of sex as the covers left, all my sweet love making with
Gregory. . .

There were things that Greg did not know . . . things from when he and I
were not as close as we had grown, of course, now I could and would not
want to imagine life without him. Greg was and is, my everything.

But dad . . . He spent a few minutes just looking at me, from my face, my
hands and arms, my chest, stomach, which he rubbed gently -- I always loved
when he did that -- and then my legs, semi hard cock, my legs and then,
finally he looked into my eyes, where he stared for a long time before he
bent down closer and touched my lips with his.

"I am sorry for being so forceful last night," dad said, a little
sad, "and for just coming into your bed Clarke" He was never forceful with
me, ever. I did not know how to respond so I just looked at him, silent.

"I know how much you love Gregory . . . so I will leave if you want
me to," He looked into my eyes, searching. I still said nothing. I could
feel his hardness on me, throbbing, and the wetness of it . . . there was a
small puddle of his pre cum on my abs. I was still silent. He shut his eyes
for a moment, and made a move to leave. This was the man who gave me
everything -- all that I asked for, and all that he wanted me to have. He
gave me life, and all the love in the world. I felt a little ungrateful for
a moment. I wanted him gone . . . but I remember how hurt he was the last
time, when he found out that I had fallen in love with Greg. Dad was
heartbroken.

"I love Gregory, but you are my baby boy Clarke, my first borne, my
son, with a capital 'S', my first." He said to me. His voice was thick and
sad. I understood that it was not so much that he was as horny as fuck for
me, or that he just wanted to have some hot kinky sex with me. Sex with dad
was always great, his cock was bigger and heavier than me, he shot
amazingly thick and copious loads, he could fuck like a sex machine for
hours and not cum until I was satisfied. A few times in the past he would
not cum at all, those were rare occasions where he wore me out and I fell
asleep, and other times I got down on my knees, and made love to the cock
of my creation with my lips and mouth, urging him to shoot his load into
me.

I understood from a very early age that sex with dad was pure, untainted
intimate love. When he was breeding me, or I him, he felt a connection, a
renewed oneness with me - something that he has felt with no other. This he
disclosed to me, said that it was not even with mom. And then, I go off,
leaving him for Gregory . . .

I blinked quickly and responded before the moment was gone and I had hurt
him again, "I love you too dad," I kissed him quickly after that, full and
deep, "I would like you to stay." His face brightened like I had not seen
it in a long time -- except when he first saw me as I pulled in from
campus. He held off for one entire day. Dad was my champion. I had always
wanted to be like him when I was older . . . still do . . . I want to have
his huge, hard throbbing heavy cock. And be able to give my sons everything
as he has for me and Greg.

Dad responded well to my kiss. He kissed back, running his hands through my
short hair, and lifting my pelvis off the bed. I opened my legs, and he
made to get between them, the head of his wet cock was nudging my balls,
and then his hand directed it to my entrance. I sucked in a deep breath and
held it there . . . Dad had not penetrated me in a long time . . .

I could feel his huge cock head throbbing at my entrance, and he was
already breathing heavily. He began to push and slowly he entered me, a
little at first, but then the more that got in, the easier it was for the
rest. Dad's cock had a baseball shape -- largest at the top, and narrowest
at the bottom, but even his narrowest part was quiet wide. I could feel him
get deep, feel the pressure building as he reached my depth, and then, his
hands were on my waist, he looked into my eyes, I nodded and then felt him
enter that point where only he could reach. It was beyond the right angle
of my passage. He pushed in way beyond my prostate, beyond my bladder and
the inner end of my dick, he was so deep that I was sure as in the past if
I looked at my stomach, I could see him slide slowly into me just below my
navel.

Dad was HUGE. I was huffing and puffing, more in pleasure than pain, but it
did hurt by a fraction. He was always gentle -- at first. When I got
accustomed to his size I knew that he would pound away at me for all I was
worth.

My own cock was as hard as a rock, and each graze against my prostate sent
a huge globule of pre-cum running straight out my cock.

"Dad," I moved a little uncomfortably. He bent down lower, and
began to kiss me, massaging my stomach right above his cock, and I could
feel him, his hands on me. I could feel his cock massage me from the
inside, feel his hand touch his cock from outside -- it was an electrifying
experience. Dad kissed me, his tongue wrestling with mine, his hands
massaging my stomach and chest, his legs pushing mine apart, and he was
thrusting into me like he owned me. He began moving in a circular motion,
and then my passages opened up a little more -- he was right inside me, I
could feel his heavy daddy-cum filled balls resting against my ass.

I was on fire for him.
"Son," dad spoke to me between his kiss, "you set your old man on
fire you know that?" Ah, yes, well, I knew that . . . it was mutual. I
could not believe that I had managed to stay away from, him for such a long
time.

Dad moved out a few inches, and then back in, slowly and did this a few
more times. When his thrusting grew easier, he stopped and buried himself
deeply inside me, pushing himself hard against me as if he could get in
deeper. I felt his hand running along my legs, holding them apart,
stretching them as far as he could and then he began to fuck me.

As before, I was dripping pre-cum like a faucet. The sensations of feeling
him so deep, the length of his and intensity of his hard cock against my
prostate, along my inner canals were so intense. After what seemed like a
short time, dad lowered my legs and began to draw then closer
together. Fuck did I love when he was about to do next . . .

My legs were closed, and from past experiences, I crossed them at my
ankles. Dad was still deep inside me, my balls were resting in his shirt
pubic hair, slightly tickled, and his abdomen was resting on mine, my cock
flattened between us both -- but that was not the magick.

I could feel dads cock with my own, feel it moving in and out of me, feel
it rub against my most intimate places. His shaft was stimulating my
perineum and my balls, his mouth was having its own way with mine, his
hands just floating around me, caressing me, and he, my dad was making love
to me. his legs were on either side of mine, and he was slowly driving his
daddy-cock inside of me, causing me to tense up and hold my breath with
countless prostate orgasms, mild and gentle. He wouldn't want to make me
cum just yet, he was far from done . . .

When he was near his own orgasm, he pulled right out of me and stood on his
knees, his gloriously massive man meat throbbing, red and dripping with his
pre-sum and my anal lube, he looked down at me, smiled and winked as he
indicated that he wanted me to get up. He turned me around, and held me up
as he rested his knees between mine, holding my neck as he rested his chest
against my back and began kissing me while re-entering me. This position
gave my prostate such a good session. The angle ensured that there was
always pressure from his side as he pushed into me, and my stomach, it
looked like he was making me pregnant when he was fully planted inside me.

Dad released my lips from hi, placed his hands on my waist and gripped me
tight, I just shut my eyes in anticipation . . . he was driving into me
like a wild a****l, fast and hard, deep and without relent. I was holding
my breath, letting out long moans of pleasure, grunting, telling him to
stop when the pleasure grew too intense, but he never stopped till he was
near his orgasm, at which point he would pull out completely, and make me
change positions.

This time he picked me up and lifted me against a wall, my legs resting
around him, his face in my chest and his lips playing with my hard
nipples. Dad could have pounded me straight into the wall with his thrusts,
I nearly shot my load several times but he would stop, and then start
again. He did this to me all morning, on the bed, against the wall, on the
desk, chair, with me standing up, riding him as he lay on the bed, holding
on to the door, and then he grew tired of the bedroom. He took me into the
shower, opened the cold water full on us both as he fucked away at my
ass. I could feel his heavy balls hit against mine when ever in the
appropriate position. They felt heavy with thick copious amounts of my dads
cum . . . I so badly wanted to take him into my mouth and taste him, but
knew that he would not let me just yet . . .

It felt great, icy cold water on our hot sweaty bodies, again he had me
against the wall, then we were standing up, facing each other, then him
behind me, and each time he would do the same thing -- I could have tons of
intense prostate orgasms, and just when I was about to shoot my load, he
would stop, kiss me for a while, and change positions. He must have fucked
me in every possible position, and in most rooms of the house -- his study,
don in the garage, on the hood of his car, on the garage floor, and then,
for the last few times we did it on the stairs, in the hallway and ended up
in his bed. Dad really had his own way with me in his bed . . . he threw me
on my hands and knees, held me down and entered me quickly, but fucked me
for nearly twenty minutes straight, half the day was gone, it was one
thirty, and Gregory would be home in an hour -- roughly. Dad for the last
time pulled out of me, kissed me for a mighty long time, never allowing my
cock to lose its hardness, but also never allowing me to shoot. He
motioned for me to stand up, and place my right leg on a stool as he
entered me, his hand once again on my abdomen, I could still feel all the
sensations . . .

Dad pounded me so good, he made me have several long prostate orgasms, and
then, he jerked my cock for a few seconds, making me as hard as possible,
and then he placed both hands on my waist and really drilled into me
. . . I was shutting my eyes so tight they hurt, holding my breath and
absorbing all of his thrusts, but at last, I could feel my cock harden that
little bit more like it usually does before I cum, my balls retracted and
he was going at it like a crazed machine, first it was a huge shot of
crystal clear liquid, thick and sticky against my leg, then he drove into
me, his hands still gripping me tightly, and I was shooting across the
room. I sighed as my aching balls released their load, and with all this
buildup, I came so much, so hard all over the place. Dad didn't stop
. . . he gritted his teeth and nibbled at my ear as he shot his load so
deep inside me, and then relaxed for a short moment, maybe fifteen seconds,
he was still rock hard, and then, like usual, he began to fuck me harder
than he had that day, and within five minutes he unloaded again into me.
Now dad was done. He pulled me up to him, his cock still deep inside me,
and gently thrust into me, kissing me, massaging me, telling me that he
loved me . . .

We got into his shower, and he began soaping me and I him, he was semi hard
until he noticed that I was still rock hard for him. He looked at me and
smiled, turning me around and fucked me for a few minutes. I was jacking
off my cock and was about to cum when he stopped me.
"Son," he looked at me, "I need you," he kissed me. I didn't need
asking twice . . . Dad turned around and I was pushing my way inside him,
he was as always as tight as Gregory ever was, and I could feel his inside
burning. I reached that point in him, that right angle that he had managed
to pass in me, but that was where I stopped -- I did not know how to get
into him as he got into me.

Anyway, I fucked dad hard and fast, jack-hammering away at him, horny as
fuck for him, wanting to breed him so badly as he has done to me, his huge
cock hitting my leg every now and again . . . I held his hands behind him
as the water hit his face, he was enjoying it I knew, he was so hard, I
could have made him shoot his load . . . but I had other plans for that
load. . . I was overcome with worry that Clarke would be home at any
moment, which only excited my naughty cock even more, and then I finally
came, shooting my load into dad, as deep as I possibly could. He made to
jerk himself off, but I held him back -- not that I was strong enough to
ever overpower him, but that he understood what I wanted. I pulled out of
him and got onto my knees, picking dad's monster cock up to my lips and
sucked, tugged and swallowed at him as best as I could. I could take a bit
of him into my throat, but not too much -- more than half. Dad's balls were
receding and I could feel him harden by that small fraction I was so
familiar with . . . I pulled most of his cock out of my throat and held his
head into my mouth, jerking him off furiously with both hands, and to my
reward he came, shooting a few large loads into my mouth. . . I swallowed
what I could not savour, but the last few drops I kept in my mouth.

"Kinky little bastard," dad smiled at me, picking me up to me feet
and kissed me, tasting his cum and massaging it deeper into my mouth with
his tongue. Fuck that was great . . . but at the very last moment, when it
was all over, my heart suddenly grew heavy, and I thought of Gregory . . .

Dad must have known what was on my mind.
"We don't have to tell him anything," dad suggested, "or we could
tell him together, or I could tell him . . ." I could not think of what to
do for the moment. Dad passed me a towel as we stepped out of the shower.

"I need to think of a good way to tell him everything dad," I said,
very afraid of how Gregory was going to handle things, "not just about you
and me, but also my fiancée . . . how would he feel about me getting
married?"


I had decided to get things straight with Greg as soon as
possible. I had a whole week before I left home, and then I had to head
back to college. He was so happy. I was happy. The entire family was happy.

Gregory was fiddling with my tuner as we drove off, switching from one
radio station to another. Normally I would be annoyed if someone else did
that, but not for him. I love Gregory so much, I would do anything for him.

"So where are we going?" Gregory asked me. I had made sure that
everything I had packed would go unnoticed as he got into the car.

"It's a surprise Greg," I smiled as I responded, eyes focused on
the road as I took an off ramp out of town. Gregory relaxed, sitting closer
to me, his hand resting on my thigh as I drove. Right then and there, I
could have pulled the car over and fucked him on the highway. I didn't care
who saw, but I did care who saw him. No one gets to see him react to the
things I do to him but me.

"Clarke!" Gregory exclaimed when he realized the route I was
taking. He was excited I could tell. Several kilometers out of town there
was a little reserve where dad had a decent sized cabin. It was rustic, no
electricity, just a solar heater for hot water, and a fire place in two
bedrooms and the lounge.

"Wish we could just stay there forever," Gregory said a little
sadly, "just you and me, holed up in that cabin all day and night." I got
really hard quickly thinking about that. Making love, breeding all day and
night, taking walks through the forest, and having awesome sex in the great
outdoors . . .

"I promise I'll make it count," I said to him. I just hoped that I
wouldn't spoil things. I planned to tell him everything tonight, after
dinner. I brought him here so that if he wanted to, he could lash out. He
rarely does, in fact I could only clearly remember a handful of occasions
where he was so pissed off, either with me, or dad, or mom, or
whatever. Not pretty sights. Good thing I was able to calm him down. For
the most part, Gregory was surprisingly strong. Dad and I had planned the
evening to the last detail. We decided that it would be best to tell
Gregory after dinner. It was just past six am at the moment, I parked
outside the cabin.

I unloaded the vehicle and moved our things into the cabin. As soon as I
set things down I couldn't breathe. Gregory had pushed me against the
kitchen counter and had his tongue down my throat. I could feel his arms
around me, holding my head, touching my body as far as he could reach, then
he was undoing my belt.

"Whoa, Greg," I sighed as he took my semi hard cock into his mouth,
swallowing me whole as I grew and filled his mouth and throat. I know what
he wanted, and so I let him have it, even though the car was still idling
outside, and the door was slightly ajar. The nearest cabin was a full day
walk away, and he and I had this place all to our selves. There was a nice
secluded spot on the lake, surrounded by some trees and a cliff right
behind the cabin. The entire clearing around the cabin was surrounded by
thick forestry, and the small dock on the lake was hidden also. We were so
far away from civilization, it was both scary and exhilarating. Cell phone
coverage was good, as long as the battery lasted.

My dick was coated in thick saliva, rock hard like a steel pole, ready for
a good fuck. I reached down and picked Greg up until he was level with me,
eye to eye. I looked into them, beautiful, seeing how much he loved me, and
hoping he knew how much I loved him too. I kissed his lips gently, softly,
tenderly sucking at his lips as he demanded more from me, rubbing his
crotch against mine.

"Stop," I said abruptly, pulling away from him, "this isn't right,"
I said.

He looked at me a little confused and I gave him a wicked grin as I bent
down eagerly and buried my face in his pants. He was beautifully hard. I
hastily undid his belt and pulled down his pants and boxers. Fuck. My
little b*o had the most beautiful cock in the world. I took it right in,
straight down till I could feel his pubes against my stubble, and only when
I couldn't take his hair tickling my nose did I pull off. I had him
groaning and panting as I worked his cock, and when he said my name I
slipped my finger into his mouth, he got it nice and wet, fucking turning
me on as he swallowed my fingers in pure lust.

With my newly slicked up fingers I began to assault his ass, first playing
with his opening, then I slowly and gently slipped a finger in. He was
gloriously smooth and wet inside, still holding in my morning load inside
him. I removed my finger and sucked on it briefly as he begged me to put it
back inside. I used three fingers, he was tight, as always, and the mission
of fitting three of my fingers inside himwas so exciting. I was still as
hard as steel, and wanted to jerk off so bad bud decided that I wanted him
to have full pleasure. Slowly but surely Greg, my little champ relaxed to
take in all three of my digits. I stiid up, still buried deep inside him,
pulling his crotch against mine, our cocks rubbing against each otyher
between our bellies, and my hand up his beautiful ass. I rubbed his
prostate from the inside, and his cock with mine from the outside, using my
free hand to touch and play with his nipples as I kissed him.

It was a deep and passionate kiss. I love him so much. I reached deep into
his throat with my tongue, and deep into his ass with my fingers, never
neglecting his prostate with my three fingers. He was moaning in ecstasy
and I knew it, when his lips froze and his voice went a few notes higher
. . . he froze for just a second, a mere second and then he was shooting
all over me, thick forceful ropes of hot cum all over my vovk and abs. Fuck
Greg made me hot. I continued humping him, playing with his prostate as he
held on to me for support.

His arms were around me and he was breathing in my ear he was calling my
name and then I lost it. I couldn't take it. I shot my load on him, coating
his cock, mixing our cum together. He was powerless against me, weak in the
knees and panting like he'd run a marathon. He bent down and swallowed my
cock again, taking me all the way down his hot throat, coaxing all the cum
right out of me with his sucking. When he was done I did the same to him,
and maneuvered my head so that I could reach his ass with my mouth. I could
taste it, my cum in his ass and feel his smooth wet ass against my lips and
tongue. Fuck this k** did it for me.

I made a mental note, not to have any form of sex with him for the rest of
the day, after lunch. I was going to breed with him one last time before I
told him everything. If he hated me after that I would have the memory, and
maybe I would show him how much I loved him that he would take the news
well.



Farewell Clarke

"So, does this mean that things have to change?" I asked Clarke, my
brother.

He was sitting behind me on our bed while I studied at the desk. I chose
not to look at him, because I was certain that he would say that everything
would now be different.

How could they not be?

He was going away to college, I would see him over Christmas . . . maybe,
and that was about all the certainty that I could think of. In those few
moments that he took to answer me, I had imagined him living his life away
from home. He would find a girl friend, bring her home some day, call me
`buddy' or `b*o' or perhaps use my full name, Gregory. Usually, it would be
just `Greg', and he would be right beside me, or on me, chest to chest,
between hard passionate kisses --

"No," I froze when I heard that word come from his lips, "nothing
will change."

He sounded so sure, but a bitter-sweet feeling ran through my body. He
would miss me as much as I would miss him, he hated leaving home.

I continued to stare at the screen, disbelieving what he had said. It was
inevitable. The distance alone would change things - from spending every
waking moment, and every u*********s one with me, to not seeing me at all,
not touching me. He was a very horned up guy, like every other eighteen
year old man, but our whole life, I was always his outlet. Sure,
occasionally, okay, more than occasionally, there would be this girl or
that, but they never meant anything deep to him -- or perhaps I am
mistaken?

Maybe I was being overly conceited to think that his entire world revolved
around me, his sixteen year old brother.

"Gregory . . ." there we go, he had already started using my full
name . . . "my entire world revolves around you" I smiled then, at his
words coinciding with my thoughts. I guess he used my name to express his
seriousness then. Alright, so things weren't as bad as I thought they
were. However, it felt as if my entire world was caving in. To me, it felt
as if I had to depart with something huge in my life, like my senses. Could
you imagine what it would be like, spending the last few days with your
sense of smell, or taste, sight or hearing? How could I go on, or find a
new equilibrium in life? But I had to, because, he was not mine, and he had
a life, and if I had to suck it up and let him go, then I would do it. I
loved him that much, that I would not hold him back.

Clarke was standing behind me now, his hands on my shoulders, rubbing them
with his strong fingers. The discussion of his departure was not new, he
had spoken with me first before he made any decisions, and I `approved' all
of them, in his words. I didn't think that I had the right to approve
anything in his life. Clarke was my hero. I needed his approval, not the
other way around.

He bent down and kissed the top of my head, the only person I ever allowed
to mess up my hair. He lingered there. I imagined his eyes were closed, as
he rested his forehead on my head. A flash ran through my mind, of times
when I would do or say something that he liked, and he would do that, mess
up my hair. It annoyed me a few times in the beginning, but I learned that
it was one of his many ways of showing me his intimacy, and love.

"We should go down for dinner," he said, letting go of my
shoulders, straightening up.

"Alright, I just have one more paragraph to this chapter."

He had walked to the door, and was about to open it when he turned around.

"Greg?" he called to me softly. I turned to him, "Never forget how
much I love you." He had an uncertain look on his face, as if I would
somehow forget. I doubted even myself. I thought that I would.

"I won't Clarke," I smiled back at him. But it was an empty smile.

He must have noticed, he stood there a moment, biting his lip.

"Promise?" he asked, looking intently at my face.

"I promise Clarke, I will never forget."

He just nodded, opened his mouth as if to say something but walked away and
shut the door.

I was being ripped apart on the inside. I felt hot tears rise up to my
eyes, but forced them away. My face was getting hot, and my hands were
trembling a little. I took a few deep breaths and forced myself to
relax. There was a knock on our door.

"Son?" It was dad, "Greg?" he called and peeked inside. I looked at
my screen, hoping that I would not have to look at him.

"Dinner is ready, you better come down," he said. Dad was awesome,
of course, I knew no other man like him, but from what I heard from
friends, my dad was considered the best.

"Just a sec," I responded. He agreed and then left, shutting the
door behind him.

What the hell, I thought. There was no way that I was going to complete
anything tonight. I headed downstairs.

"You alright Greg?" mom asked as I entered through the kitchen.

"Yeah?" I asked back. `Hmm,' was all she said. But the look she
gave me said that she knew better. Maybe my eyes were a little red.

"I'm just a little tired from all the reading," I half lied.

All through dinner I noticed mom and dad pass looks from me to Clarke. Dad
spoke to us, just about school, and talked a bit about a project he was
working on at work, and mom about her flowers and vegetables in the back
garden, the usual stuff. Clarke and I however, did not speak to each other.

He looked up from his plate, and instinctively I passed him some water, his
hand lingered on mine just a second longer than was necessary when the
glassed passed between us, dad noticed, Clark smiled and said thanks and
continued with his meal beside me.

I loved sitting with him at dinner. When we were younger he would always
cut up my stuff into smaller bits before getting to his own food, and he
would always make me eat my veggies and stuff, teaching me about how
important it was. Even now, or at least for as long as he would be around,
he would continue to teach me everything he could.

Dad and Clarke retired to the T.V lounge after dinner, chatting some more
about plans for college, and stuff that he had to do and check out. I
listened while I helped mom with the dishes. Dad and mom always spent time
together after work, they would cook together and talk till we came down
for dinner, and after, I would help mom. Clarke would usually help dad with
the lawn and pool and stuff. We all had duties, and as mom and dad taught
us, it would keep us close and help us bond.

I sat opposite dad in the T.V lounge for a bit with Clarke and mom, who was
doing some of her sewing next to dad. He and Clarke were watching a little
bit of a soccer game.

"I'm off to bed honey," mom said and kissed dad on the lips, "Night
boys,"

"Night mom," Clarke and I replied together.

After some time, Clarke said that he would be off too, so as to get an
early start in the morning. Dad said good night and continued watching the
game. I gazed at the T.V, but did not pay attention.

"You doing alright Greg?" dad asked. Crap. I needed to pull myself
together!

"Yeah, just a little tired dad," I said to him, making myself
believe my lies, "I'm just concerned with my exams in a few days."

"Anything in particular on you mind son?" he asked, now watching
me, and giving me his full attention.

"Nothing I can't handle," I said, "I'll be in tip-top shape in no
time!" I assured. I was dedicated to my studies. They all knew that.

"Okay," dad said, standing up, "remember, if there is anything you
need help with, do not hesitate to come to me," he looked at me with his
serious face for a moment and I nodded in response. This would be his
attempt to let me know that after Clarke left, he would be more than glad
to fill in the gaps. He said that he was going to bed. It was a Friday
night, so, I could stay up late.

I switched off the T.V shortly after he left, turned out the lights and
went to brush my teeth.

Clarke was in bed when I got there. He was lying on his back, staring at
the ceiling. My PC was still on, I turned that off too.

"You can continue studying you know," Clarke said, "I'm not that
sleepy yet."

"Neither am I." I smiled at him in the darkness, my eyes quickly
adjusting to notice his bare chest, strong and hard . . . He looked a lot
like me, or rather, I turned out a lot like him. I looked like a younger
version of Clarke, we were both muscular, and our grey eyes were the same,
our noses, and bushy eyebrows - except hair styles. Mine was a little
longer and spiked a bit, and his was shorter, brushed in a very handsome
side path.

Even our hands looked the same, except his had a few scars from fooling
around while growing up in different places than mine had.

He smiled back at me -- and, I loved how his stubble was so much harder
than mine.

"Oh yeah?" he raised an eyebrow. I lay beside him, just a few
inches away, my hands resting on my chest, looking up at the ceiling as
well. We talked for a bit, about going to the mall to get a few things, and
then, when things grew a little darker as the hall light went out --
signifying that dad was going to bed, Clarke pulled me closer to him, his
hands on my arm, and his lips close to my ear.

"My world revolves around you Greg," he said to me, in a deep
whisper. He kissed my jaw, and then my neck. I lay still, unresponsive to
his affection. He began to withdraw, I felt his hands loosen on my arm. I
stared at the ceiling for a bit, wondering about what must be going through
his mind. I was placing a distance between us, I knew that I had been for
several days now . . . being less intimate with him, pretending that his
leaving didn't mean anything . . . that I was going to be okay. Only at
that moment, when he was withdrawing from me did I realize that by doing
this I was hurting him, which was the last thing I had wanted to do.

"Will you promise me something Clarke?" I asked him in the
darkness, as he slowly turned onto his back again, keeping his hands away
from me, completely removing his contact with me.

"Anything Greg," his voice was still that deep whisper, but he
sounded woeful. That hurt me more than anything, and I realized that he was
hurting more than me. I was being selfish.

"Promise you will never forget how much I love you?" I asked him,
turning to him, placing my hand on his chest, tracing its way around his
muscles, between his pectorals, moving to his hard abdomen, then back up.

"Of course," he said, taking my hand in his, lifting them up to his
lips, "that I will never forget, no matter what," he kissed them and his
other hand crept beneath my back, taking a hold of my shoulder as he pulled
me toward himself again, till I was almost on him. I looked into his eyes,
and he looked into mine.

He looked so handsome in the moonlight from our windows, which is not meant
to sound conceited, as this compliments myself as well.

I drew closer, to him, and then he changed positions, in one deft movement,
he was now above me, our hands still clasped between us, and we were chest
to chest, I could feel his hardness against me, and his hardon, throbbing
but unmoving on my stomach. I placed my free hand at the back of his head
and pulled his to myself, lightly kissing his lips with mine, he responded
the same way, gently, intimately, rubbing my hand in his, holding the back
of my head. I opened my mouth a little, tentatively licking his lips, and
he did the same. We were on the same page.

My hand traveled down his back, pulling him tighter against me at the
waist, making his throbbing weiner dig into me through his shorts, and next
he was grinding against me, his tongue exploring my mouth.

He let out a little chuckle, and so did I . . . we were acting like a newly
wed couple.

"This is good," he said to me, and continued kissing me, both his
hands on either side of my face, rubbing my jaws and ears, pressing his
forehead against mine as he took in a breath, and dove his hot tongue back
into my mouth. I had both my hands on his shoulders, his body had grown hot
so quickly, and he was becoming moist, I could smell it radiating off of
him . . . I loved it.

He would have been happy doing this all night, I knew he would, but I
wanted to give him something more. I moved my hands to the front of his
shorts, and when he didn't object, only kissed me harder, I slipped them
in, touching his hot, wet weiner. I couldn't help it, I lifted my wet
finger to my lips and he chuckled again as I licked them, and then, he went
back to kissing me.

Sure, I had jerked him off before, and much more, but we were a little
distant over the past few weeks, and he had never once or persuaded or
influenced me to get intimate with him. He was always like that.

I pushed him away for a second, and indicated that I wanted to get on
top. I moved away from his lips and traveled down his chest, kissing and
teasing his hard nipples, he was breathing so deeply, and his hard shaft in
my hand only got wetter. I kissed and nibbled my way down to his hardness
after a few minutes.

After removing his shorts I placed my lips over his foreskin and sucked out
all of his pre-cum, savoring his essence, and then pulled back the skin,
and started taking him in, as much as I could, which was three quarter of
the way down comfortably, I was so crazed for Clarke tonight though, I
pushed myself further, taking him in deeper, and deeper, making my way to
the base of his hardness.

"Greg," he called to me concerned, placing his hands on either side
of my head, gently pulling me off. I shook him away, my hands holding his
down as I forced my brother's weiner into my throat. I loved his so
much. Before I knew it, my nose was getting tickled by his wiry trimmed
pubic hairs. I lingered there for a moment, realizing that I was extremely
hard and aroused myself -- I felt as if I would cum myself without much
stimulation.

"Ah Greg," Clarke purred, "your such a stud!"

I bobbed up and down a few times, and then came up for air. One deep breath
and I was down again, taking him in back to the base.

"I'm gonna-" I stopped and completely withdrew as he withheld his
orgasm. I released his hands and licked his weiner head, tasting him, and
then went back to it. It seemed like a short time to me, but it was not, I
was blowing him for quiet some time, alternating between my new found
talents of deep throating him to rapidly blowing him regularly. I was so
into it that I did not hear him the second time, or maybe I chose to ignore
him, but I felt him shoot in my mouth, hot thick ropes of brother-essence.

He shot hard into my mouth and muffled his cries of pleasure into a pillow
he pulled over his face, some of his seed escaped my lips and I chased them
when his orgasm subsided and he stated massaging my head. Clark sat up and
pulled me up, locking his lips with mine, kissing me so hard and
passionately, holding me tight against him, his fingers pressed hard
against my arms and jaws.

His lips moved away from my lips and wandered to my neck -- he was careful
not to leave marks -- then to me chest where the same teasing I gave his
nipples was paid back. He was better than I at this I assumed, he pushed my
onto my back, slid off my shorts and began licking my shaft, drinking in my
essence as well, doing to me what I did him, first sucking out what ever
pre-cum I had through the fore skin, then pulling it right back and taking
me all the way into his throat.

Clarke was bigger than I, and has been able to take me all the way down for
years. I was so horny for him, I didn't want to cum and indicated that I
wanted to stop, but he didn't catch on.

"Something wrong Greg?" He asked after a moment.

"Not at all," I said to him, sitting up, "I just wanted you to make
me cum in another way . . ." I said to him. He smiled and kissed me again.

"Don't worry," he said, grabbing a hold of his hard weiner, "your
big b*o is ready to go again."

He kissed me, holding my neck.

"But first I want to taste you stud," he looked at me, "can I?" he
asked, as if I would refuse.

I nodded and let him get back to it. In no time, he had my toes curling,
and I had to bite down into my fingers as I felt my orgasm build up. I shot
maybe seven hard shots into his mouth, and I could hear him swallow, but
the last bit he savored in his mouth for a bit, licking my shaft and
testicles for a bit. I felt him move down, his hands grip my butt cheeks as
he prepared to get me a bit moist. He licked and played for a bit, his
tongue working his little brothers love-hole for a bit-

"Clarke," I said to him desperately, "I need it now!"

He stopped immediately and left the bed, walking over to our dresser and
grabbing something for lube. I felt his finger enter me and rub some
around, I needed him, didn't he understand?

"I don't want to hurt you Greg," he said, his hand on my chest,
"It's been a while for you . . ."

"I'm ready," I assured him, and took a hold of his weiner, guiding
it to my entrance, he stalled a moment to rub some more of his lube on his
shaft and placed it at the entrance of my cleave, bent down to kiss me as
he slowly and gently pushed in. I lifted my legs to give him more space,
and soon he was right on top of me, chest to chest again, just the way I
liked it.

I placed my hands on his hips and pulled him closer, forcing in more than
he intended, he looked at me concerned, but I smiled easily and kissed him.

Soon he was thrusting gently, making love to me, touching me all over,
kissing my lips and neck, my chest and nipples as he drove into me. I
kissed back whenever I could -- but when he was on top, he was in charge,
and he always rendered me powerless to his kisses like this, making me
stifle moans of pleasure and chuckling silently and kissing me over and
again when I started feeling it real good.

My hands were above my head, tightly grasped into one of his, the other
holding my jaw as he kissed me again and again, his shaft driving into me
completely, grazing my prostate gently with every maneuver, his hard abs
rubbing