Taen Beside the Cree

I rode up to the small bridge above the creek near the most remote end of the bike path and stopped for a moment, leaning on the wooden rail. I was sweating, satisfied with my work out, and with my fast pace. All the weight I had lost in the spring and summer was making my cycling more and more fun.

I was enjoying the peaceful quiet.....the crickets, the babbling brook, the occasional frog....but soon realized I should be heading back. It was already nearly dusk, and I had nearly 10 miles to ride back to town. That is when I saw him. How did I miss him?! Or rather, I heard him clear his throat, and THEN I saw him. He was in the shadows at the far side of the bridge.

"Nice bike!" he commented in a sonorous baritone voice as he walked toward me. Faded Levi's hugged his frame nicely, and his t-shirt was slung over his left shoulder. I can't say that I minded in the least. He had an athletic build, but without looking like someone who had no life outside the gym. His face had that scruffy, I couldn't be bothered to shave look. Dark hair, not too long, and just a little bit spiky. He looked like he could be 30.

I struggled not to lose my balance as I unclipped one of my cycling shoes, while holding on to the rail for support. He deftly caught my arm, and helped me regain my balance. I looked down at his hand on my arm, then into his blue-green eyes, and felt flushed. I thought I saw the hint of a smirk at the corner of his lip, but I wasn't sure.

We made small talk for just a few moments.

"Yeah, it's a Trek," I answered, as soon as I was sure I wasn't going to plant my face in the planks of the bridge.

"Ah, like Lance, huh?"

"Yeah, like Lance Armstrong rode. I know, so cliche, right? You ride too?"

"Oh, a little."

The usual blather. But those eyes of his. I was getting lost in them. And he knew it. Again the smirk. I was sure this time.

"What?" I asked.

He shook his head just a little, and the smirk got bigger.

"What???" I demanded.

Then he leaned forward, his lips almost brushing my ear and whispered, "I'm gonna have you bent over this rail taking my cock up your ass before the night is out..."

I reflexively moved away from him, and nearly lost my balance again. Truth be told, I was off balance from the moment I laid eyes on him.

"What the fuck?!?!" I exclaimed. What an arrogant fucking bastard!

"Oh, don't worry," he replied. "I won't rape you. You'll want it. In fact, I will wait until you ask for it."

Was this guy for real? Dusk or not, I wanted to stay and prove this ego maniac wrong. I did have a light for my bike. I'd be okay. Or so I thought. Fine. Game on.

He seemed to sense the shift in me and his eyes narrowed briefly and almost imperceptibly, as he shifted his weight back, taking his hand away from my arm. My forearm already missed the heat of his touch. I tried to shake the feeling as I fully unclipped from the bike. He was already moving away, sitting himself on the edge of the bridge, dangling his legs, and hanging his arms over the lower rail. Assuming I would join him.

I paused for a moment, still a little undecided. Oh, what the hell. I clomped over in my cycling shoes, sat down, and decided to take the shoes off.

As I was doing this, he asked, "Do you know anything about quantum physics?"

"I know a tiny bit, enough to know it is fascinating." Interesting tack, I thought to myself.

Before I knew it, two hours had gone by.....as we discussed the nature of reality, God, the interconnectedness of all living things.....as we watched the moon rise and cast a shimmer on the water below.......

And not once in these two hours did he touch me, or even make the slightest sexual innuendo. I began to think he really hadn't whispered those provocative words to me within minutes of our meeting.

He was captivating me. I found myself finding reasons to move a little, fidget a little, and gradually move closer to him. By now we were nearly touching. I could feel the heat from his body, even though we weren't actually touching. It was as if the hairs on my arm were straining towards him, trying to touch him, aching to close the electrical circuit. He had not made a single move toward me. I was trying to will him closer to me.

"......and so, I believe one really CAN feel this interconnectedness of the ALL or the ONE, when one connects intimately with another......" his deep voice trailed off as he finished his thought.

That did it. I couldn't take it anymore! I HAD to touch him. I reached over those last couple of inches and rested my hand on his thigh. He placed his hand on top of mine, and for the first time in two hours we sat silently. I felt a confusing combination of great contentment and intense longing. My bike shorts were becoming uncomfortably tight.

I leaned toward him, and rested my head on his shoulder. He took his hand from on top of mine and wrapped it around my shoulder, drawing me closer. The nocturnal symphony of crickets, frogs and brook continued its melody while I sighed and felt myself release several layers of resistance.

After a time, he had to stand and stretch his legs out. He gave me a hand up as well, and as I sprung up, I looked up, and found myself lost in the pools of his eyes. Our lips met, first tentatively, then more insistently. We broke away, breathless, then came together again in an embrace. I couldn't get close enough to him. I felt the hard bar of his cock in his Levi's pressed against me, and it made me crazy with want and need and craving and fear. Even though I was 27, I had not yet been with a man. Fantasized, yes. Dreamed of, yes. Masturbated myself blind, yes. But the real deal, never. And now. I wanted him. All of him. In me. All the way. Filling me. Taking me.

I turned us back toward the rail, hoping to have him behind me, to feel him against my ass, to feel him grind into me. To start the dance of connection.

Instead, he joins me at the rail, beside me, still silent. I put my hand on his. I lean toward him. He leans back and we gaze at the moonlit, burbling water. Minutes pass. It feels like hours. I am becoming devoured with need. I feel as if I will cease to exist without this connection, without this fulfillment, without this penetration, without this piercing to my core.

With a small voice, I hear myself say it. The words come out of their own accord, and I can't stop them. "Please. Please stand behind me. Please press into me....."

And he moves behind me. And presses against me. And he holds his stiffness tight against my crack. And he holds me against him. I feel as if on fire. I want to be taken. I NEED to be taken. Yet he doesn't move. He just holds me. He kisses my ear. I ache with longing.

More words tumble out. I am losing all control. "Please. Please do it. I need you to take me now. Please....."

He groans and grinds himself tighter against my ass once, twice.......then steps away, quickly pulling off my cycling shorts and stripping off his jeans. Then, removing some lube from his pocket, he spreads it on his cock, saying, "Spread your legs."

He pushes on my back, bending me over the rail, and I feel his cock head pierce my virgin asshole and I cry out in joy and fulfillment and some pain. And he keeps pressing and pressing until gradually his entire penis fills me. I feel so full as he leans his body against me, and I try to breathe.

He is in me. I am filled. I am penetrated. I am joined. I am not alone in the universe. I am connected. I have been pierced. I sigh a deep sigh of contentment and relief, as he begins to pull out a bit and push back in. I want this. I have wanted this even before I knew I wanted this. I push back against him, and our speed increases.

I feel him fill me again and again and again. He fills my need. I want every ounce of what he is giving. One, two, three more strokes, and he goes rigid, and gets even harder inside me. I feel his seed fill me, and I squeeze against him to hold it in me, as my cock erupts without even touching myself. I see stars, I see light, I see the universe. We are one. I have been penetrated. Pierced. Filled. I shall never be the same.