Dennis - the Next Two Days

Note: There is a very brief episode of sexual violence in this installment. No imaginary characters were harmed in the making of this episode.

***

Note: About

Dennis

The origin of this story was an online an online chat I had with a very sexy young man living in southern Oklahoma. He identifies as straight, but confessed to me that he wanted nothing more than to suck another man's cock. He'd made some clumsy attempts at a not-necessarily gay bathhouse, but the results were extremely unsatisfactory for him. So I devised a scenario in which I give him a better resolution to his dilemma. That was the basis for what is now the first installment of

Dennis.

Given the positive response to the initial story, I felt inspired to write a second installment, and the basis for a third is rattling around in my head.

Thanks for reading!

***

The initial sensation is that my arm is sore.

The second is that sunlight is poking around some window blinds that have seen better days.

The third is that the reason my arm is sore is that there's a naked man sleeping on it.

It takes a few moments to remember that I'm in a stranger's apartment on a stranger's bed with said stranger, whose name is Dennis.

I try to withdraw my arm from under Dennis' head without waking him, but I'm not successful. Dennis shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs and orient himself to the realization that he has a stranger in his bed. As the memory of the previous evening comes back into focus, I get a warm feeling in my groin. Dennis seems to have the same experience. I watch as his penis widens, lengthens, and stiffens. I think that both of us realize that those morning erections we have may need to be dealt with before the day can begin.

Dennis looks up at me from my armpit and smiles coyly. I feel his hand wrapping around my stiff dick, giving it a few strokes. I run my fingers through his tousled hair. He shifts himself up so that he can kiss me, at first tentatively, then deeply and passionately. Nothing gets my motor running quite like a nice long deep kiss.

Still, I know how difficult it can be for me to actually cum with a morning hard on. Even well-lubricated masturbation in my younger days often failed to result in a satisfying orgasm; about all that ever worked reliably was sticking my cock into my college girlfriend's pussy first thing in the morning. She had a libido that matched mine: We would usually fuck two or three times in the evening, and often once in the middle of the day. But those morning fucks were always surprisingly good.

I rearrange our bodies so that Dennis and I are right next to each other, my left arm around his shoulders and his right arm around mine. Our free hands are stroking our own cocks. I always enjoy watching how other guys jack themselves off. Where I usually establish a set tempo, getting faster and faster as orgasm approaches, Dennis has his own technique: Three quick strokes followed by two slow ones, followed by three quick ones. The pattern repeated.

Being physically close to each other emphasizes the fact that we both have the smell of sleep on us; a slight musky odor only offset by morning breath. Dennis' smell mingles with my own, creating a melange of pheromones that goes right for my primitive mammalian brain. I feel my nuts start to tighten into my body, and the beginnings of an orgasm takes form in the depths of my guts. I look at Dennis and see perspiration on his forehead, his chest heaving, and his hand gripping his cock tighter than ever. "Yeah, that's the way, dump that load," I say as much to myself as to Dennis. With loud groans, we cum simultaneously, jizz flying into the air before landing on our own faces and chests.

Chests heaving, we remain immobile as our cocks soften and shrink. The musky smell now permeates the room.

Eventually we turn face to face, and between kisses, lick the cum of the other. Our arms are wrapped around each other, our soft, sticky cocks seemingly kissing as well.

"I need to piss," I say, disentangling myself from Dennis' grasp. I can feel Dennis' eyes on my ass as I shuffle across the bedroom toward the bathroom. Soon, I let loose an enormous amount of urine into the toilet; it's a piss that goes on for well over a minute.

Shaking off the final drops, I return to the bedroom. Dennis is watching me, absentmindedly fondling his cock. As I sit on the edge of the bed, he gets up and walks to the bathroom to add his plentiful urine to mine. As he had done earlier, I watch his ass as he walks. He emerges moments later, stretching his arms over his head. I'm transfixed by his very hairy armpits, remembering my initial joy of discovery the previous evening. Dennis turns and bends over to touch his toes, exposing his pink asshole to me. My cock is coming back to attention.

"Coffee?" Dennis asks, breaking the spell. "Oh, hell yeah," I reply. Still naked we shuffle into the tiny kitchen. He pulls out a bag of a familiar brand of ground coffee, dumps an unmeasured amount into the basket of his drip coffee maker, adds a carafe's worth of water to the tank, and turns it on. Dennis turns to the refrigerator and withdraws a carton of eggs and a slab of uncooked bacon.

He tosses eight strips bacon in a cast iron skillet and puts them on the stove. With one hand, he skillfully cracks a half-dozen eggs into a bowl and starts beating them with a fork, his cock and balls bouncing while he does so. He dons an apron before returning to the skillet. "Bacon grease burns like fuckin' hell," he mutters. He flips the bacon and watches it reach the perfect level of doneness. As he stands in front of the stove, I start to drool. I'm not sure if it's because of the smell of coffee and bacon or if it's his beautiful ass, but I don't really care.

The gurgling coffeemaker suggests that the coffee is nearly ready. Dennis removes the strips of bacon and sets them to drain on a paper bag, then pours the egg mixture into the sizzling bacon fat.

The scrambled eggs cook quickly. Dennis expertly plates a generous helping of eggs and four strips of bacon on two plates. "Mind taking these to the couch?" he asks. I do as I'm told.

Moments later, Dennis emerges from the kitchen with two mugs of steaming coffee, napkins, and forks. He's shed his apron, and his cock and balls are swinging seductively as he walks. "Sorry, I didn't ask if you want milk or sugar in your coffee," he says, apologetically. "Nah, black is fine," I reply.

We sit close together on the couch. The breakfast is delicious. "I forgot to get bread at the store yesterday, or else you'd have toast as well," Dennis apologizes.

"From your technique, I'm willing to bet that you've done a lot of cooking," I observe. "Yeah, my folks ran a diner up until a couple of years ago," Dennis replies. "I learned at my father's knee, and once I turned eleven, I sometimes had to cover for him when he was too drunk to cook. That happened more an more as I got older."

"I'm guessing it wasn't a naked diner," I say with a chuckle. Dennis regards me silently for a moment, and I wonder if I've touched a nerve. Then he starts laughing. "Ha! Gotcha there," he replies. "No, Jake, it wasn't a naked diner."

Once we've finished eating, we carry the plates and mugs to the kitchen. "Glad I have a dishwasher," Dennis says.

"So," Dennis says, once everything is cleaned up. "I've gotta go to work today, sorry to say. I'm in the middle of an engine rebuild at the shop. '67 Mustang. But I'd like to hang out with you some more this evening, if that's okay with you."

"Sure," I reply. "I'm sure I can find some way to keep myself amused during the day."

"I should be back here around 7, so anytime after that would be great." Dennis turns and returns to his bedroom. "I'll skip a shower today," he calls out. "I get the feeling you'll like that!" "You know it," I reply.

I hunt around the living area to find my clothes from the previous night. I find everything save for one sock. Dennis emerges dressed in work pants and a tshirt. He fills both out marvelously. He walks over to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. "Jake, I just don't know what to think," he says. "You don't need to think, really," I reply. "Just take the ride and see where it goes."

He kisses me on the cheek as we make our way toward the door. He gets in a beat-up pickup truck, and I begin the walk back to my motel.

***

I go to my room, undress, and get into bed. It's a bit too early for housekeeping, so I decide I'd like to make it look like I've actually slept there. I go into a meditative state and empty my mind for about a half-hour.

Refreshed, I stumble into the bathroom to take another leak. Having my hand on my cock brings back memories of the great sex with Dennis, so I start to get just a little aroused. Since I'm in the room alone, I haven't even thought about closing the bathroom door.

I decide that since I plan to be out in public during the day, I should take a quick shower so that I don't smell like sweat, cum, and ass. The warm water feels very good and I give myself enough of a wash so that the dried cum is off my body and my beard is tidier than it was when I got back to the room.

All of a sudden, the door to my room opens. A short Latino man in overalls bursts into the room. "I'm so sorry, Señor, but there's a terrible leak from your room to the room downstairs. Could you turn off the shower? I'm so sorry!"

I quickly turn off the shower and step out of it and into the bathroom. The maintenance man is still standing there, staring at my dripping naked body. I realize that in my hot-water induced trance, I've managed to attain another erection. I grab a towel off the rack and try to cover myself. The little man is still staring, and I get the impression that he's not in a hurry to leave.

The radio on his hip crackles. "José, is the shower off? Over." "Sí, it's off. Over," José replies. "Good, thanks. Tell the guest that we will move him to a different room in about an hour so we can take the time to fix this correctly. Over."

"OK, will do. Over and out." José replies and turns off the radio. He hasn't taken his eyes off me or the tent in the towel I'm frantically trying to hold around my waist.

José walks toward me, pulls the towel away, and falls to his knees. Before I know it, he's got the head of my dick in his mouth, his bushy moustache flexing as he sucks. Without warning, he's taken my cock all the way down his throat. "You've done this before," I say. "Mmm hmm" he replies, the vibration feeling like an electric shock to my dick.

I pull José to his feet and lead him toward my unmade bed. He's nearly a foot shorter than I am, and probably weighs 120 pounds soaking wet. I start unzipping his overalls, and I'm surprised (or am I?) that he's naked underneath. His chest is covered with thick black hair. It thins a little around his waist, then returns with a vengeance as a mass of pubic hair. But the real surprise is what appears to be a seven-inch uncut cock jutting out from the thick bush, foreskin retracted so that half of his glans is visible, extra shiny with precum.

I push José on the bed and wrestle his work boots off his feet so I can get him completely naked. I find that his legs are quite hairy, as are this toes. But I'm not interested in his feet right now. I want that gigantic cock in my mouth.

Without fanfare, I start sucking José's dick. My hand wraps around his exquisitely hairy and loose balls. José is moaning softly as I apply everything I've learned in years of sucking cock to his impressive dick. He lets out a growl of satisfaction.

It takes considerable effort, but I finally manage to get José's cock past the back of my mouth and down the top of my throat. I massage his glans as if I'm attempting to swallow it, and he lets out a yelp of pleasure. He tries to hold my head and fuck my face, but his dick can't go any deeper. I pull back so I can breathe, and it sounds like a champagne cork popping as I eject his cock out of my mouth.

I grab José's knees and raise them to my shoulders. I have never seen a taint hairier than his. I push his legs further back until I see the mass of hair that must be obscuring his tender asshole. I set out on an expedition to search the jungle for that very desirable prize. I'm about to call out for a machete when I see a trembling pink asterisk, resembling the nose of a frightened bunny.

My fingers parting the thick mass of hair, I find the prize with my tongue. José yelps when I make contact. I gently but relentlessly tease his anus with my tongue, and the pulsations tell me that he is enjoying what may well be his first rim job.

Eventually, he pushes my head back. "No more," he says, apologetically. I know how easily intense anal stimulation can become overwhelming. I switch gears, grabbing his right foot and rubbing it against my beard. José flinches from the tickle. I lick the sole of his foot, from heel to the ball. His foot has a pleasant, salty taste. Then, I suck his toes, one by one, from big toe to pinky toe. José squirms and giggles in response. He's been stroking his cock the entire time, and it has swollen even more than it had while it was in my mouth.

I give his left foot the same treatment. His hand is moving faster and faster. I feel his toes curl, then he throws his head back, and, inevitably, jizz starts shooting out of his dick. The first shot lands with a splat on his hairy chest. As he pushes his cock forward, the second lands in his dense pubic forest. The third arches over his legs and lands on my face. The remainder oozes out and runs down to soak his hairy balls.

José is panting on the bed, his shriveling cock throbbing in time to his heartbeat. I look at the bedside clock and notice that it's been nearly a half-hour since we first hit the bed, leaving us with no more than twenty minutes of playtime remaining.

I climb on the bed, straddling José's hairy body. My cock is as stiff as it gets, and I slap it on his face. He opens his mouth, and I aggressively push my dick inside. He begins sucking me like a milking machine. Unexpectedly, I feel his index finger stroking my asshole. Like a vacuum cleaner, my rectum sucks his finger inside. To my amazement, he moves his fingers directly to my prostate, massaging it with abandon.

That is all it takes to trigger the beginning of an intense orgasm. José slips a second finger into my ass just as I nearly lose consciousness, the head of my cock feeling as though it's on fire in his throat. My whole body spasms as I pump a huge load into José's hungry mouth.

I collapse on top of him, then roll onto the soaked sheets. There will be no question that the bed was used when housekeeping comes to flip the room.

José reluctantly gets up from the bed, retrieves his work clothes, and slips them on. I look wistfully as his beautiful cock, bush, and hairy chest disappear behind the zipper. Without a word, he turns and leaves the room.

***

I've just put my clothes on when there's a knock at the door. I open it to find a middle-aged maintenance man, ready to help me move my meager possessions to a new room.

Twenty minutes later, I'm settled. I take a very quick shower to finish the cleanup that was interrupted earlier. I'm half hoping that José would interrupt me again. He doesn't, so once I'm done I slip on a swimsuit and head to the motel's small pool, which is across the parking lot.

I'm reclining on a deck chair, reading a pulp novel, when the relative quiet is interrupted by a family entering the pool area. Mom, dad, and three children ranging in age from roughly seven to fifteen. Mom and the kids are of little interest to me, but dad is another story. He's a very large, balding man stuffed into a very small swimsuit, belly hanging over the front. The lack of hair on the top of his head is balanced by a nice salt-and-pepper beard, well-trimmed, and virtually perfect. He has a nice patch of hair in the middle of his chest.

The kids noisily jump into the pool, and mom follows them, using the stairs. Dad pulls up another deck chair directly across the pool from me. From my vantage point, I notice a pronounced bulge in the front of his swimsuit as he straddles it to sit down. He sprawls on the chair, legs spread wide. I glance up and gasp when I see a massive penis snaking down one leg of the shorts. That explained the notable bulge!

I return to my book, periodically stealing a peek at dad's junk. It's really a wonderful sight to behold, purplish glans pushed tightly against his leg. During one of these peeks, I swear I see him discretely stroking his dick. It does seem to be swelling accordingly.

Eventually, and inevitably, he catches me looking, and before I can avert my eyes, he very deliberately runs his fingers over his dick. His smile eliminates any doubt that he is putting on a show for me.

I'm developing a bit of a tent myself, but I simply can't do anything about it. Dad licks his lips while pushing his cock further down the leg of his shorts. At this point, the massive mushroom head is nearly down to the bottom of his shorts. There appears to be a drop of precum oozing out. Then he gives me a wink.

He extracts himself from the deck chair. He announces, "Hun, I need to use the bathroom. I'll be back in a little bit." "Whatever, Dan. Take your time," his wife replies, clearly disinterested. With a quick glance in my direction, he turns and leaves the pool area.

I decide that it's time for me to leave the pool area. I gather my book and towel and quietly walk back to the main building. It's three stories tall with all rooms opening on an open walkway on each level. In other words, a typical budget motel from about 40 years ago.

At the bottom of the stairs to the upper levels, Dan is waiting. Without a word, we nod at each other, and I start walking up the stairs to my room with him behind me. Fortunately, we're out of sight of the pool, so his wife couldn't see us even if she cared.

I let Dan enter my room first, and once the door closes behind me, he whirls around and drops his shorts to the floor. I behold what is without a doubt one of the biggest cocks I've ever seen outside of porn. It's probably eight inches long semi-erect, and as thick as my wrist. He has clear-cut the hair below his waist, so his massive dick looks oddly out of place jutting out from his completely bare pubic area, with modestly hairy legs below and a decently hairy belly above. Not my favorite look, but, whatever.

Perhaps it's just comparative sizing, but his balls seem surprisingly small. Like the rest of him between his waist and thigh, they're hairless. They're also drawn up tightly against his body, making them look even smaller.

Dan grabs his cock and starts shaking it. "Go on, faggot. Suck it. I know you want to." These are the first words he's uttered to me. I get on my knees and, licking my lips, approach this man's appendage.

Without warning, he grabs my head and forces his dick into my mouth. "C'mon, cocksucker, choke on my big dick." I try to comply, but his angry impatience precludes my efforts to give him a decent blow job. "You fucking faggot, you're supposed to suck cock better than women, but even my lame bitch of a wife is better than you." I roll my eyes, feeling the slightest bit of sympathy for the woman.

I continue my attempts to properly service Dan, but he's not exactly the patient sort. "You don't know shit about sucking cock, faggot," he bellows, yanking his dick out of my mouth. He slaps my face with his hand, then grabs my head again and roughly tries to force his cock in my mouth.

I respond the only way I know how. I part my lips and open wide. Once his glans is fully in my mouth, I bite down as hard as I can, catching him right behind the coronal ridge. He screams in pain. Before he can even try to hit me again, I punch his tiny hairless balls with my fist. He tries to scream, but the pain is too great. As he crumples to the floor, I gain my footing and run out of the room.