Tuarana waited until Sunday afternoon before reaching out, and it was a minor miracle he lasted even that long. 'How's your weekend been?' he texted.
No response.
Sure, he was disappointed, but deep down, this was kind of what he expected to happen. His mouth had done its job, and the alpha stud with the huge brown cock had probably moved on to his next conquest.
Tui spent most of Saturday with his dick in his hand. He literally couldn't stop masturbating. He couldn't get the thought of Ignacio's beautiful penis out of his head.
He woke up on Saturday morning, his dick already hard as steel and desperate to ejaculate. He grabbed his dildo, lubed himself up and fucked himself as the sun rose, unloading into the palm of his hand. He ate it before drifting back into a light, restless sleep. Traffic woke him again around nine, and though his tummy rumbled hungrily, the only thing he wanted to eat was cum. He jacked off again, remembering how hot it felt when the man from São Paulo waterboarded his throat the night before. He licked his fingers clean before falling back to sleep again. His cat jumped onto the mattress and slept at his feet.
He came three more times that afternoon and evening, barely leaving his apartment all day, and by his fifth orgasm, he'd almost drained his balls completely dry. It still felt good to cum, but at the same time, it hurt a little, almost as though he was pushing his own biological system to its limit. Just before turning in for the night, when he jacked himself to climax for a sixth time, almost nothing came out.
His tortured balls ached as he fell into a dark, dreamless sleep.
When he woke up Sunday morning, Tui's first waking thought again was of the Brazilian's delicious meat. He lay on his back and closed his eyes. He touched his nipples, imagining the beautiful South American hunk towering over him, jacking himself off all over his face. He tugged his shaft to climax and licked his thin, watery juices off his fingers. His balls hadn't had enough time to replenish.
He threw the bedclothes off, knowing he needed to do something to break this masturbatory spiral. If he kept wanking at this pace, his cock might fall off. Besides, he was beginning to feel desperately hungry. He got dressed, grabbed his backpack, threw a cap on his head and headed out for some breakfast at the café over the road.
Lewisham was a bit of a dead spot when it came to cafés; there was only one decent coffee shop in the area. He walked through the entrance and the staff greeted him with friendly waves. After placing his order, waving his credit card over the electronic reader, he sat down and flipped through a tattered copy of yesterday's newspaper while he waited for his food to arrive. After a plate of scrambled eggs on toast and a very strong coffee, he was ready to face the day. The only problem was he wasn't sure what to do with it, but he knew that if he went back home, he'd probably fap himself to death.
The day was warm, though a little bit cloudy. He walked east along the railway line, keeping up a fresh pace past Petersham and Stanmore stations. At Newtown, he turned left and strolled down King Street. He loved this area: vibrant, cosmopolitan, multicultural and diverse, it was his favourite part of Sydney. If he could afford it, he'd move here in a heartbeat, and he'd already promised himself he would, just as soon as his big acting break arrived.
He walked down City Road to where it met Broadway, then headed east to Central Station. Sweat caked the inside of his cap. His sneakers were nearly on fire by the time he made it to the end of the journey, but it was lunchtime now, and he'd worked up a serious hunger. After a delicious bowl of salmon ramen, he grabbed a takeaway coffee, found a nearby park, pulled his novel out of his backpack, and sat on a bench under a leafy tree to read.
Time passed. Tuarana looked upwards and smiled as the rays of the sun filtered through the canopy. He heard city traffic as he watched the young couple a short distance away, flinging a frisbee back and forth in the park. He looked up from his book from time to time; he thought the guy was cute. Tui watched as the guy's girlfriend threw the plastic disc with perhaps a little too much force. It dipped and curved in the air as it hurtled towards him. He caught it cleanly, barely needing to move a muscle.
The cute guy jogged over to retrieve their aerial toy. "Sorry about that, mate," he said.
"Not a problem," smiled the Greenlander, handing the frisbee back to him. He watched the dude throw the disc back in the direction of his girlfriend as they resumed their game.
Tuarana was gay. The girls in high school were into him, though it's fair to say they probably fell in love with his unusual heritage as much as they fell in love with his looks and personality. At parties, especially after a few beers, one thing generally led to another. He remembered one warm summer night where a chick in his Australian history class led him to the cricket oval across the road from the house they were partying in. She grabbed his hand, took him to a grassy area behind the public toilet block, kneeled down in front of him, unzipped his shorts, and blew him. He remembered another party, at a friend's house, where a girl from his maths class led him away from the throng and escorted him to the host's parents' bedroom. She lay down on the immaculately made bed, spread her thighs, and ushered him in. She stroked his exotic face, grabbed his arse cheeks and held him close until he came inside her, and he spent a sleepless night worrying that he'd knocked her up.
Already, something inside him sensed that living his life with a woman would probably leave him unfulfilled. His gaze began to fall on the boys in his class, and not so much the girls. He went through a stage of sexual confusion, and in darker moments he cursed his parents for giving him a girl's name, though nobody outside of Greenland would ever have known. In his English class, he discovered the plays of Pinter, Wilde and Williamson, and he fell in love with the stage.
He enrolled at NIDA -- the National Institute of Dramatic Arts -- as soon as he finished high school. He moved into a share house in Randwick, on the eastern edge of the city, within walking distance of campus. He worked hard, studied hard, played hard, and fucked hard, and by the time he'd finished his course of study, there was no doubt in the Greenlander's mind that he was gay. He had a few short-lived relationships with men, but because he was so invested in learning his craft, nothing ever seemed to stick.
He fell into bed that night, exhausted from the long walk. His feet ached a little. Just before turning in, he checked his phone. His friendly message from earlier in the day remained unreplied to.
*
Monday morning arrived, and it was slightly warmer outside than Tuarana expected when he left his apartment. He stood on the platform at Lewisham station with his backpack, waiting for his train. He wished he'd left his jacket at home. He was already beginning to sweat, and he knew the carriages would be packed.
The train screeched to a halt and its doors opened. Tui stepped inside, and just like most mornings, there was nowhere left to sit. He stood, holding a railing, bracing himself for the twenty minute journey to Wynyard station.
Tui looked around the carriage. Everyone was either reading the morning paper, scrolling through their phone, listening to music or a podcast on their noise-cancelling headphones, or staring out the window, wondering what kind of corporate emergency they were about to stumble into.
He looked up towards the far end of the carriage and saw a tall man, facing away from him, with lustrous brown hair tied back in a ponytail.
Surely not. It couldn't be the Brazilian stud. And then he remembered Ignacio lived in the adjoining suburb, its train station just one stop further west from his.
The tall, long-haired man turned around, and Tui's heart skipped a beat. It was him. Ignacio had earbuds in, lost in his own world just like everyone else, paying no attention to anything going on around him.
Tui stared. Fuck, Ignacio was stunningly beautiful.
Their eyes met. Ignacio glanced at Tui, just for a second. Tui nervously raised his palm in greeting, but the Brazilian made no response.
The train pulled into Newtown station, and more people got on than off. Tui wasn't sure where to look, but he instinctively knew it wouldn't be polite to stare.
Capacity began to ease at Redfern station, and Tui took the opportunity to move a little closer to the Brazilian, though they were still separated in their carriage by maybe five or six people. They locked eyes again, and Ignacio placed his heavy right hand in his pocket. He deliberately moved it around as if touching himself through his pants. His fiery eyes stared at the Greenlander, almost as if he was trying to hypnotise him.
Tui visibly gulped. His mouth began to water, and he could feel his own dick beginning to harden in his jeans. Nervously, he ran his fingers through his shoulder-length blonde hair.
Ignacio's hand, still moving slowly, stayed in his pocket until they reached Central station.
Tui poked his tongue into his cheek, and the Brazilian smirked in reply. "You want this?" he mouthed as the train sunk below the city streets. In reply, the Greenlander nodded.
Nobody else on the train noticed any of this.
Ignacio got off at Town Hall station, leaving the train nonchalantly. Tui would alight at the next stop, but as the carriage rattled and screamed through the Sydney underground, he pulled out his phone and texted the Brazilian. 'Fuck you're a tease,' he typed, adding a smiley face emoji. Again, he didn't expect a response, but this time he got one. He felt his phone vibrate in his hand.
'I know. And my weekend was good.'
Tui smiled as he got off the train. He joined the Monday morning corporate throng making its way up the escalator to George Street.
*
The Brazilian's hot cock was never far from Tuarana's mind. Every night, after dinner, he'd watch TV for an hour or so, or maybe read a book. After showering, he'd climb into bed and let his mind wander.
He lay in bed on Wednesday night, eyes closed, jaw slackened, lightly running his fingertips across his nipples. Ignacio's fat brown penis occupied the very centre of his mind. He remembered how it smelled when he sucked it last Friday night -- a deep, earthy cocktail of soap, sweat and masculinity. He wished he could smell that smell again right now. He focused on how it looked. Thick, brown and smooth, almost like a tube. It was difficult to make out the veins, but he remembered seeing a cute freckle or two on the foreskin. He remembered how it felt to peel the skin back, and he remembered how wide his jaw had to stretch just to get the swollen, purple head of the huge Latin beast in his mouth. He remembered feeling it stiffen in his mouth as he lashed it with his tongue.
He spat on his hand and reached down to touch his cock. It was already hard and pulsing, and a pool of pre-cum had appeared at the tip. He'd barely even touched himself; this was just from teasing his nipples and focusing his mind on every physical aspect of the Brazilian's beautiful penis. With a finger, he scooped up the pearl of pre-cum from the tip of his dick and rolled it around on his tongue.
He remembered his head being forced down into the Brazilian's shaved crotch. He remembered the fat shaft expanding in his mouth, twitching as though it was about to explode, and then the fireworks came; thick pulses of semen shooting across his tongue and deep into his open, waiting throat.
Tui moaned as his climax hit. Sperm oozed across his knuckles, and as his orgasm pinballed around his body, he licked his fingers clean. Hoping against hope, he checked his phone in the distant possibility he might've received a message from the stud from the next suburb. He hadn't.
*
