Among other habits I have almost always counted the spurts of my climax. When I am super aroused or it has been more than a few days I usually have as many as ten volleys to a set. The most I ever counted before today was eleven. The new record has now been set during this mornings post dream wank. It wasn't planned, as best experiences usually aren't planned, they just happen spontaneously. This was the case as the boiling feeling of a building orgasm was causing me to pant, and the breathy noises I was making woke me from the dream.
As I stirred I also became aware of my extreme arousal. My balls were tightened up against my pelvis on either side of my cock and I used my right hand to tug them back down into place. The dream was still fresh in my mind, one of the most graphic sex dreams I can remember. It was sort of an out-of-body surreal dream and my whole self wasn't visible to me. Actually, most everything besides Dave's ass and balls were blurred. In my field of vision I didn't have a penis, or maybe wasn't aware of it anyway. Yet I knew that Dave and I were on the bed and he was on his stomach with his legs spread wide and he was holding his ass cheeks open toward me.
I was crouched behind him using my middle finger to pleasure his quivering hole. Dave was responding by clinching his sphincter on my finger and trying to keep me from removing it. I could vividly feel the tightness of his hole and pressure on my finger each time he squeezed. His cock must have been tucked under him, probably hard and about to explode, but no matter how much I tried in the dream fog I couldn't get a glimpse. Instead his shaved balls had an aura about them, glistening with sweat and drawing me toward them. I leaned down to mouth them both in turn. I would keep pressure on Dave's asshole with that middle finger while running my tongue up and down the back of his nut sack, then pop a ball into my mouth like a jawbreaker candy.
Outside of the dream in reality, the sheet had slipped off of me and my exposed cock was standing tall, slick with so much pre cum that there was a puddle at the base of my shaft. As I became more conscience my left hand took control of my shaft and I began to slowly stroke from the base to below my purple engorged head. Once my hand acquired enough of the pre cum and could effortlessly glide up and down my shaft, I extended the reach past my frenulum to the tip for a full stroke.
The heat of my cock in my hand was powerful and the boiling of my cum intensified. My balls tried to lift again but my right hand firmly restrained their movement causing a pleasant sensation as the smooth skin contracted into folds. My back arched as the panting became moaning. Blood continued to rush my veins tightening the skin of my shaft. I felt the roughness of the raised veins against my fingertips as I stoked, whispering 'Fuck Yeah' a few times to my dream lover. I was alternating between holding my breath then gasping in ecstasy. More pre cum was oozing from the tip of my dick as my pelvic muscles spasmed and finally gave in, contracting for the first surge of the release.
My body had curled inward after the initial arching of my back as I began to cum. That first spurt had little volume and the mist of clear pre cum dissipated into the air. This had been a fore shock which made the second the beginning of a full temblor. Holding my breath, eyes rolled back in my head, the line of jizz flew through the air landing first on my cheek and splashing across my nose. My toes curled and I thrust my hips higher. Each following blast had slightly less distance finding my chin with the third, my neck with the fourth, nipples and pecs with the fifth and sixth, sternum was seventh, lower rib cage covered by eight, nine and ten, then the puddle in my belly button from eleven and twelve. My eyes were open when the bakers dozen barely cleared my slit with just a few white drops that ran down my super sensitive head. My body jerked involuntarily as I finished ejaculating. Thirteen shots is the new record, one I hoped to duplicate as soon as possible.
Finally recovered from my record breaking jack off I made my way from the bed to the bathroom to get ready for my first workday in the downstairs study. There wasn't much to do really, a quick shower, bush teeth, and put on a clean shirt and shorts. My mood was really great and I was still feeling lite from the amazing weekend with Dave. Keeping the same routine as before the move I worked most of the morning at home before taking a break to walk down to the shop for a coffee and change of scenery. During the move I found some rugged adjustable sandals with a toe strap that I had forgotten about having, so I wore those, which is much like being barefoot and a nice pairing with my penchant for freeballing.
Arriving at the shop and ordering my coffee it wasn't the same knowing there wouldn't be the possibility of a Dave sighting. At first I found it hard to concentrate, but needing to catch up from being out the past Friday made me laser focused for about an hour. On the way out to return home I crossed paths with the two ogling chairs from Saturday. It was obvious they recognized me, both quickly glanced away to give each other a knowing smile. I wasn't sure what this was about so I filed that away for later consideration.
Earlier in the week while organizing the place I realized that everything is either mine or Harlan's. Strangely, with the exception of one item in particular, it is almost as though Dave had never been here. I was starting to feel alone in the quiet and unfamiliar space. It was good though that I had remembered to call Harlan on Sunday afternoon. He wanted to let me know he would get to town on Friday evening ahead of returning to the office. It was a short conversation about his arrival time and a couple of things he asked me to pick up from the store, and much easier than a long text chain. I welcomed the opportunity to have him here for the weekend too, in total about ten days. We would have plenty of time to get the rest of his stuff out of the boxes and put away. And ask him more details about Dave. Subtly of course, so as to not raise suspicions.
Throughout the next couple of days my mind kept wondering what Dave is doing at any given moment. Occasionally I would pull out my phone and look at us lying on the bed post fuck. Although only 60 plus hours had passed so far, that dream obviously meant I was missing him, or at least the hot sex. I finally asked myself if I should even be so curious about what he is doing right now? In reality, after basically a nights hook up, there shouldn't be any expectation that we would share a daily play by play of our otherwise separate lives. Yet, Dave did say he wanted to be exclusive and not sleep around. The questions were collecting in my head. Does he think about me since he returned to his regular life? I shouldn't smother and I haven't been possessive in my prior relationships. Or neurotic. Most of these questions would likely be answered in due time. On the other hand, I do need to know what Dave has in mind for the dildo he left in the shower.
Now that I knew Harlan's schedule, I made a few preparations. First I did an internet search for "how to clean a dildo" and made a 10% bleach solution to soak and disinfect Dave's toy. Once it was clean I put it in a sock and crammed it into one of the drawers of my beside table furthest from the door. It was cozied up with the two containers of lube. There were also my cockrings in an assortment of sizes and colors, and some forgotten condoms in the same drawer. I felt it was necessary to keep these thing private for now. As Dave said, "Harlan will lose his shit when he finds out."
As Friday rolled around I made one last pass through the apartment at lunchtime looking for any boxes of mine that I had missed. In Harlan's bedroom I unstacked three boxes that I had assumed were all his. The smallest of the boxes had been in between the other two. It was labeled 'Liam' but I didn't remember packing a box that size. The box easily fit under my arm so I held my curiosity until I finished the scan of the room.
