Running the Hills

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I felt his cock pulsing in my mouth, his hot cum surging out over my tongue, filling my throat, pumping hard inside me and I swallowed, again and again, feeling it sticky and salty and sweet. Mike moaned deep in his throat each time he spasmed, his hips jerking forward involuntarily, his short-trimmed pubic hair tickling my face, his dick so heavy in my hand. I didn’t want to move, didn’t want this moment to end, didn’t want to go back to the shame and doubt I had been feeling for the past two weeks. He felt so good in my mouth, so thick and heavy and big. I swirled my tongue slowly over his tip and heard him gasp, pulling away roughly, his softening cock slapping wetly against his thigh.

I looked up at him from my knees. His hand was on my cheek, his palm resting gently on my face, his fingertips moving slowly in my hair. He smiled down at me. “Sorry. it gets really sensitive afterwards.”

I returned his smile, slowly getting to my feet. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” I swallowed hard. “Listen, Mike. The other day.” His hand went to my hip, resting there, keeping me from stepping away. I looked at him, trying to meet his gaze, seeing the way he looked at me. His eyes erased any hesitation I had about what I was saying, any fear. The words came rushing out. “I’m so sorry about the way I acted. I was fucking scared. I acted like a baby, not a man.”

He was silent for a long moment, just looking at me. I felt him pulling me closer, gently, and I stepped nearer to him, close enough to smell him, smell the manliness I remembered so vividly, the smell that had haunted me for the last two weeks. I could feel the warmth radiating from his naked body, his chest. I looked down, saw the wiry black hair on his chest, the defined, firm pecs, his flat stomach below, and his softening but still thick cock hanging between his legs. His head still glistened in the overhead light. I wanted him to say something. I knew from his eyes that he forgave me, I knew that because he was here, now, it was okay, but I wanted him to say it.

Instead he pulled me against him, hard, our bare chests pressed tightly together, and he kissed me, passionately, his tongue finding mine, his head tilting to the side so that our lips molded perfectly, his arms pulling me so tight against him. I could feel every muscle in his body hard and taut against me, his arms, his chest, his legs. Our tongues moved together, wet and warm and soft, hearing him moan in his throat, his hands grasping at my shorts, pulling them down, my underwear going with them, falling to the floor. I managed to step out of them, completely naked, our bodies tight against one another, but I wanted to be closer to him, closer than was possible, pulling him against me, my hands on his ass, so round and tight and hard, pulling his hips against mine.

I could feel myself, hard and unsatisfied, pressing against his thigh, his hips, and I wanted him to feel it too. He wasn’t yet hard again, but well on his way, and our cocks were trapped between us as we kissed, slower now, the tips of our tongues meeting thickly. I could feel his head, spongy and still wet, pressing against my abs just above the base of my cock, and then we rubbed against one another and I heard myself groan, my mouth slipping away from his as my body began to lose control. My lips dropped to his shoulder, kissing him there, and I felt his hand move between us, gripping me lightly, and then I felt his own cock against mine, his hand around both of us, and he began to stroke us, together, slowly, and my fingers clenched at his bottom, hard, my teeth on his shoulder, overcome. I thrust myself up against him, feeling my head press against his abs, feeling him swell hard against me, both of us breathing hard, groaning together, his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. We stood there in my living room in a naked clinch, his body hard and hot against me, his hand pumping slowly on our cocks, the two of us lost in the intensity of the meeting, the built up lust and passion and desire of the last two weeks, relishing the feeling. I feared to move or speak, afraid that it would end and never return, wanting the moment to last forever.

But then his lips were on my neck, my ear, and I heard him whisper, “Take me to your bedroom.” I reluctantly pulled away, nodded, smiling, and quickly walked to the stairs, hearing him follow me, his hand reaching out to caress my bottom as I climbed the single flight, moving to the relative darkness of my bedroom. He closed the door behind us.

The lights were off in the room, the shades closed on the windows, but enough sunlight came through to leave the room in a soft gray haze. I could see his body, his eyes, as he moved from the doorway to the bed where I had laid down, my cock falling back against my stomach, hard and swollen and red. I looked at him, watching him move across the room, his body perfection, firm and taut, dark hair on his upper chest and arms, his skin a natural tan, his cock heavy and thick, standing straight out from the dark thatch of hair at the base of his abs.

He saw me staring and laughed, quietly, smiling at me as I lay there waiting for him. “You glad I stopped by?”

I smiled back, all the fear and self-doubt forgotten, erased. I gestured down at my throbbing cock. “What do you think? Can you forgive me for how I acted?”

He laughed softly and gestured at himself, playfully pushing his dick to one side and letting it spring back straight. “What do you think?” He climbed onto the bed next to me, the mattress depressing under our weight, so much heavier than when Shannon and I shared it. I lay on my back, my hands resting on my stomach, absentmindedly tracing over my skin just above where my lighter pubic hair began, just below my shallow navel. The air was cool in the room, still, no sounds beyond the quiet hum of a ceiling fan spinning slowly above us.

Mike laid himself down next to me, on his side, facing me, close enough so that his tip pressed against my thigh. I could feel him, leaking precum, glazing it on my skin, lightly. His hand found mine, then moved lower as my breath caught in my throat. I felt him looking at me, and I turned my head, saw his eyes filled with lust and then his hand was on me again, his fingers around me, squeezing lightly. I groaned softly as he began to move his fist, arching my body slightly up off the mattress, my hips moving in accord with his hand as he pumped me, slowly, gently, pulling the loose skin up over my head, drawing it back down over the rim, eliciting a soft gasp from my lips each time. My eyes rolled back in my head and my lids shut, my lips parting, breathing hard as his hand moved just a bit faster, pumping me, working my dick in his hand, I laid back, my head falling down on the pillow beneath me, sinking into the soft mattress as he stroked me, slowly, gently, my hand reaching out to grasp his upper arm, feeling his bicep flexing and tensing as he moved his hand on me, his fingers squeezing and releasing. I could have let him do this to me forever, but too soon I felt my orgasm approaching, too fast, too soon, and I grabbed for his wrist, squeezing hard, pulling his hand off me. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head at him, smiled, panting hard. “Nothing, Mike. I don’t want to cum yet.” As he watched, I turned my body away from him, reached into the nightstand and turned back, a small bottle of lubricant in my hand. The bottle was almost empty, most of it used between Shannon and I, spread over her breasts, her stomach, my cock, leaving us both glistening and slick and glowing, magnifying every touch and sensation. And now I was preparing to use it to allow Mike to fuck me. A small twinge of guilt and shame hit me, welling up from somewhere I thought shut tight, and I quickly pushed it back down. This had nothing to do with Shannon.

I opened the bottle and spilled a healthy dollop of the oil on my open palm, feeling Mike’s eyes on me as I reached down, between my thighs, letting the oil slide off my hand and onto my heavy balls, using my fingers to spread it down lower, between my trembling legs, feeling my fingertips rub over my asshole, my whole body shuddering as I rubbed the lube around my rim, then slowly pushed a finger up inside myself, my whole body tensing, feeling myself clench around my finger, imagining what it must feel like for Mike, feeling how tight and warm I was. One finger still inside m, I used the others to spread the lube around my rim and just inside me, the cooling sensation tingling and stimulating nerves, my cock twitching of its own accord against my stomach. I almost forgot Mike was laying beside me as I worked a finger up inside my body, but then I heard him moan, felt his hand on my leg, and I quickly pulled my finger out and laid back, nodding at him.

His smile was almost childlike, his excitement and lust palatable, apparent in his eyes. He moved his solid, masculine body below mine and gently pushed my legs open, taking the bottle of lube from me and pouring some in his hand, spreading it up and down his shaft and over his head. His dick looked swollen and red and shiny and obscene and beautiful, the tip pointing at my face, his balls heavy and hanging below him, curly dark hair framing him wonderfully, his thighs big and thick and firm.

I watched him slowly working his cock, spreading the lube thoroughly, seeing his nostrils flaring, his mouth falling open slightly as he looked down at me, stared between my thighs, and then up at me, meeting my gaze. I saw the look in his eyes, the strange affection that I would never think to see in another man’s eyes, and I wanted him so badly, needed him, my body ached for him, everywhere, and he saw it.

He moved forward, his glistening cock swelling in his hand, my legs spread as wide as I could, wrapping around his big upper body, and I felt him press his head against me, felt the spongy tip, soft and then hard as he pushed, felt the cool lube easing his entry as I whimpered softly, felt him opening me up. I felt my legs shaking, my feet planted firmly on either side of his body, hugging his waist tightly, willing him with my mind and body to go slowly, to be gentle. I shouldn’t have worried.

The bulbous head of his cock pressed at my asshole, Mike planted his hands on either side of my hips, his forearms resting against my body, leaning forward over me, looking down at me, and slowly began to rotate his hips.

The feeling was indescribable. I could feel every tiny movement, could see the concentration on his face as he held himself back, restrained himself from plunging his big dick deep within me in a single stroke, knowing it would tear me apart. I could see his face this time, could watch him as he slowly, gently worked himself into me, could look into his eyes as his head gently moved past my rim, sliding gently into me this time instead of the sudden pop that had accompanied his entry in the shower.

I almost didn’t realize he was inside me this time; there was just a slight twinge, and then a sudden fullness. I heard him moan, and felt him suddenly slide forward, and I called out softly in pain, my cock jumping on my stomach, my hips coming up off the mattress violently. “Ahh, fuck, fuck!” I heard myself grunt, and felt him withdraw, concern on his face.

“Fuck, are you okay? I’m so sorry.” He was motionless above me, I could feel his head just inside me still, but he didn’t move. “It slipped, I didn’t mean to. You’re okay?”

I nodded up at him, my eyes watering, wanting him to keep going, not able to speak from the mix of pain and lust that washed through me, all emanating from between my legs. Finally, I was able to choke out, “Keep going. Please, Mike.” I was almost begging him.

He nodded, smiled slightly. “I’ll be careful.” He pushed forward once more, and this time the pain was less, much less, and I felt him sliding into me, and I tried to lift my legs and hips up off the bed to give him an easier angle, let him move deeper. He felt my movement and shifted his hips slightly and suddenly there was a burst of intense pleasure that made my hips buck. I groaned, a feral sound low in my throat, unintelligible, but he seemed to understand, and he moved his hands underneath me, holding me up off the mattress as I yanked a pillow from behind me and shoved it under my ass, propping me up.

The angle was perfect, and as Mike pushed forward into me I almost cried from the feeling, the pleasure, seeing him above me, his big chest flushed and gleaming with a light sheen of sweat, his eyes watching me, looking down at where our bodies were joined, hips lips parted slightly as he breathed heavily, the muscles and veins I his arms defined as he gripped my hips securely, controlling me.

He thrust forward again, further, deeper, and I looked at him, then down at his hips, saw my cock flopped, rigid on my stomach, precum in a small puddle around my bellybutton, streaked over my stomach. I saw him pushing against me, saw his thick pole jutting from between my legs like a part of me, an extension of me. I watched as he pushed into me one more time, and he was completely inside me, buried within me.

He paused, his hips pressed tight against mine, looking down, both of us breathing hard, letting me relax inside for a moment. I felt so unbelievably full. There was less pain than the first time. I could feel him pressing against me deep inside, and then he began to move, slowly, began to fuck me. I moaned, gasped out a pathetic “Yesss…” and looked up at him, locking eyes, starting into him as he fucked my body, sliding slowly in and out of me, only an inch or two, gently moving within in. I felt my hips coming up off the pillow each time he withdrew, trying to pull him back in, out of my mind with lust for this man.

The breeze from the fan overhead swirled down around us, cooling the sweat on our bodies as Mike fucked me lovingly, every movement of his body sending ribbons of pleasure through me, my cock surging on my stomach, leaking on me. I felt him move quicker, pushing into me a little harder and I wanted him to go even faster, to fuck me hard, but I couldn’t tell him, was still scared of this, of how it would feel. I met his eyes, tried to beg him with my eyes to fuck me, to fuck me like he would a woman, to fuck me hard and fast and cum in me, that I was ready and I wanted him and needed to feel him.

And then he leaned down over me, my legs spreading wide around him, he leaned over me and as he did his cock drove deep within me, impossibly deep and I groaned loudly and slammed my fist into the mattress, losing control, and I felt his arms around my body, pulling me up off the bed, his cock buried in me, a part of me, his hips grinding against me. My cock was pressed between us, rubbing against his stomach and mine and that short contact was all I needed and I felt myself explode, cum spurting out between our bodies as my hips bucked viciously against his body, felt my cum leaking over our stomachs as he kissed me, hard, our tongues intertwined, and I felt him moan deep in his throat as he came with me.

His arms were around me, holding me tight and kissing me as he filled me, his cum spurting deep within my body, his hips motionless, letting himself drain inside me, his tongue pushing against mine, neither of us breathing, holding each other, sweat and cum on our skin and inside me, the smell of sex filling the room, his head resting now on my shoulder. I kissed his neck, his dick still buried inside me, feeling his cum slowly leaking around his softening cock, feeling his hard body on mine, holding me, holding him. I would not let him leave. Not this time. I couldn’t go through this again, the waiting and denial and shame and wanting and needing. Not again.

I heard the front door open downstairs, and Shannon’s footsteps as she came in.