M
Markfromsacto
Guest
Hello there. I had posted a story previously and was going to continue it but a computer crash killed the next few chapters. So here’s a complete one by way of apology.
“How could he just forget?” I thought to myself, looking at my best-friend Matt. He was seated next to a gorgeous red-headed woman who seemed enchanted by him. I couldn’t help taking in every detail of the man that held her so entranced. Dark, nearly black, hair cut to a medium length. The casual disarray of it more attractive than any hour of styling could provide. Blue eyes framed by strong defined brows and almost womanishly long eyelashes. They were the blue of the sky after a winter rain had cleared. Not a bright azure blue, but a darker, more intense, sapphire.
His jaw-line was defined sloping down to meet a squared off chin and just barely touched with the shadow of a beard. His neck was thick and showed a glimpse of hair as it met the collar of his shirt. The chest and arms thick, corded with muscle that showed a dedication to hard work at the gym. His midsection was surprising lean, under the muscle of his upper torso, obviously toned even under the material of his shirt. The only word that came to my mind to describe it was “lithe.”
His lower body was hidden by the table he was sitting at, but I can tell you from memory what I would have seen. From the front; Strong thighs, and supple calves leading down to his well proportioned feet. At times when he walked it seemed as though his pants would rip off from his muscles flexing. From the rear he was even more impressive. His ass rose from the small of his back like two perfect domes, at times you could even see the dimple in the side of his cheek as it flexed through his jeans. Bubble doesn’t begin to describe it.
His face, I don’t even want to go into. It would flow from look to look like and actor practicing his roles. Mischievous one moment, innocent the next. No matter what look he had on though his lips and expressive eyes would always give him a look of slow lethargy. As though he’d just had the best sex of his life and was enjoying the afterglow while talking to you. The impression was strong enough it would make you want a cigarette for the sensuality of it.
So, yeah, basically Matt’s a fucking walking god, and if you couldn’t notice, I would definitely love to worship at that altar. Which brings me to the good part. I did get to once. The night before in fact. I had the most mind-blowing, life altering experience of my life and now Matt’s sitting there like nothing happened. God, he was a fucking bastard.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I barely even noticed when Matt spoke to me. “Steve… Hey, Steve, snap out of it, come meet Sheila, she wants to say hi.” He said, gesturing vaguely at the woman (though I was thinking slut) next to him. I wandered over and spoke to her briefly. “Hey, I’m Steve nice to meet you Sheila.” I held out my hand to shake hers. She didn’t seem satisfied with this though, as she immediately stood up and hugged me. The feeling of her tits rubbing against me was enough to put an end to any heated thoughts I’d been having. Those things must have been big enough to serve as a flotation device for about five people.
Sheila began to natter on at me, obviously unaware of my negative thoughts about her breasts. “Matt’s been telling me about you for months Steve it’s great to finally meet you!!” I swear to god you could hear the second exclamation point she tacked onto the end of that sentence, not that I was surprised by it, she was a good ten years younger than us and probably hadn’t begun to think about acting like a thinking being. After my internal criticism of her vocal punctuation the meaning of what she’d said finally managed to sink in. “Months?” I asked, shocked, “I haven’t heard him mention you once.”
Now I’ll be the first to admit that wasn’t the nicest thing to say, but it felt really good at that point. She reared her little head back for just a second, all 5’1 of her readying itself to launch a verbal assault my way before she relaxed and finally decided that I’d been joking. “Oh, you kidder.” She said, slapping my upper arm. “I’m sure that he has, he mentions me to everyone.” I really wanted to contest this point but the look that Matt was giving me said, “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.” So rather than keep at it on general principal I let the matter drop and added it to the big pile of pissed off that I was already planning on hurling at Matt later.
“I wanted you to meet Sheila tonight Steve, I decided that I wanted you to be here for something that I have planned tonight.” Matt said to me. I had several visions of what he had planned. In most of them he left Sheila at the table and took me out to the dance floor for a slow, grinding song. In some Sheila repeated attempted to divert his attention from me while we played footsy under the table all though dinner. My favorite though, had to be the one where he swept everything off the table and made love to me while Sheila wept and everyone else in the restaurant went on eating as though nothing had happened.
I just realized that I started at the middle of the story though. Maybe I should tell you a little about me and Matt. You should know some of our history and what happened the night before, before you hear what occurred that night at dinner.
First a little about me. My name is Steve Greco, Stephan di Pietro Gabriel Greco, to be exact. Hell of a name to hang on a kid, but my parents are old school Italian Catholics. In the neighborhood I grew up in, no one had less than four names. I grew up poor, my parents were hard workers but had decided to marry and have kids right out of high school. There were eight of us in total, I was the oldest. They’re not really important to what I have to tell you but I figured you’d like some background. At the time that I’m writing this I’m 35 years old. I’m about 5’8, about four inches shorter than Matt. I’ve got black hair that I keep short and spike when I go out. My eyes are brown. I’m not as muscle bound as Matt but I try to keep in shape. My arms and chest are decent but I’ve never really been happy with stomach. It’s flat (For which I’m happy, my family for the most part aren’t small people) but I can’t seem to get a set of abs to develop to save my life. To top it off I’m hairy, not like, you know, in the center of my chest. It starts at the bottom of my neck and goes down to my cock. I’m freaking lucky that so far my back has remained relatively hairless. I’ve been told I’ve got a nice ass, and I know my legs are my best feature. Years of swimming and running had left them long and lean. They were really the only place I didn’t mind the hair at that point. I’ve got a decent cock, it’s about seven inches erect, I never measured how big about but if I make a circle with my forefinger and thumb it fits in there perfect.
I’ve known Matt since we were 14 so 21 years now. We met in high school. Algebra class actually, he kept on trying to get me to give him answers to a quiz we were taking. The teacher caught us and sent us to detention after school that day. He spent the whole hour trying to make it up to me. I ended up at his house after school and by two weeks after that we were inseparable.
It was an odd friendship really. He was a football player who made decent grades but depended more on his ability to get people to like him to make it though school. I was a swimmer and, before I met Matt, I spent most of my time studying. We ended up helping each other through school, I tutored him and he helped me lighten up. By the end of the four years there was no question that we would be going to the same college.
We were roommates in the dorms our Freshmen year and moved out to an apartment by beginning of sophomore. We lived together until we graduated, him in criminal justice and myself in chemistry. He became a cop, eventually working his way up to detective by 32. I went to work for a pharmaceutical company testing new plant species as they came up for anything that looked promising from a medical standpoint. Even though we each had houses now we still say each other a few times and week and spent nearly every weekend together. The only real exception to this was when he was dating some woman he’d met.
He dated pretty regularly. No one for more than a few months but at least two women a year. I never really did get into dating. I’d known for years that I was gay but never really felt like I could tell anyone. I done some experimenting in college and had fucked, and been fucked, a few times. I think that somewhere I knew, that no matter who I ended up dating, they just wouldn’t be able to compare to Matt.
Things went on like that for years, until the night before our dinner. It was a Friday night and Matt and I had decided to go wall climbing at the gym. By the time that we got back to my place we were both sore and stiff. I kept up a pretty steady line of jokes about him getting old before his time ‘cause it seemed to be getting to him more than me. I ran to the shower first, even though he’d called it. He chewed me out a little for taking advantage of his “Painful exhaustion.” I finished up as quick as I could so that there would be hot water left for Matt. I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed into my bedroom.
Matt was sprawled out facedown on my bed. “I’m too tired to friggen shower much less drive home.” He said, words slightly muffled by the pillow his face was resting on. “I’m just gonna stay here tonight Steve.” I walked over and started pushing at him. “Well get up then, if you’re staying over you know where the guest room is.” He groaned and resisted my efforts to shift him. I stopped at the groan and checked to make sure that he was okay. “Stop faking it lazy-ass, there’s a bed in the next room for you, get moving.” He just shifted into a more comfortable position and generally set about getting himself ready for a nice long stay. “Don’t wanna.” He said, like a little kid. “Give me a massage and I’ll think about it.” I stood stock still for a moment. This was my friend Matt, the man of my dreams, asking me to give him a massage, in my bedroom, at night, while I’m in a towel. I was waiting for the person with a camera to pop out of my closet and yell, “Surprise! You’re on Candid Camera,” or for Matt to laugh and say just kidding.
Just so you know, this wasn’t normal for us. We’d been friends forever but our touching mostly consisted of hugs when we hadn’t seen each other for awhile or punches to the arm and that kind of stuff. A massage was definitely new. I didn’t know if I wanted to. I mean, I did want to, I’d finally get a chance to touch him, to feel what I’d been looking at for so long. I’d have time to really memorize the feel of him, to imprint it on my muscle memory. At the same time though, I was worried that if I did this I’d give myself away. That he’d finally know that his best friend was lusting after him. I didn’t even know If I could get though a whole massage without trying to kiss his neck or just lie down on him to feel him against me.
I had never felt as desperate as I did in that moment while he waited for my answer. I wanted to so badly, just so I’d know. It was terrifying though. I knew that I was going to say yes. I don’t think that I could have said no. But my voice hadn’t caught up with the rest of me yet. When it did I was surprised. I expected a squeaky yes to pop out of me. What did come out was ragged, strained, and husky. Like I was on the edge already. “Take off your shirt.”
“Take off your shirt” was all I said, and I’ll admit that I was surprised when he did. I watched the muscles in his back roll and stretch as he reached behind himself to pull it off. I looked at his back for just a moment. It probably isn’t as perfect as I remember it. In that moment though, it seemed to be. Broad shoulders followed by a muscular upper back. All of it slowly tapering down to the waistband of his shorts. Matt was pale, but the amber light from my lamp gave his skin a golden tone, like he was just barely sun-bronzed. I looked away so I could catch my breath. I hadn’t even realized that I’d been holding it. “I think that I have some massage oil in the cabinet, Matt.” That strange voice said again. I sounded like I’d just smoked a pack in a half-hour, or like I hadn’t spoken in months and was learning how again.
I walked back into the bathroom and grabbed the bottle of oil. I’d bought it to jack off with. It was funny really. I always used it when I was thinking about him but I never dreamt that it would touch him. The thought was acutely arousing. I could feel desire curling in my stomach just thinking about it. I passed by my shorts as I walked back to the bedroom. I considered putting them on again and then decided not to. I wanted to be able to feel as much as I could. I was convinced that this would probably be our last night as friends and if it was, I wanted to make it memorable.
As I walked up to the bed I felt ready to explode. It was like my skin was too tight to hold in everything that I was feeling. It was exhilaration, dread, arousal, and hope. All rolled up into a tight ball in my solar plexus. My heart was beating so hard I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. “Ready?” I managed to cough out, glad I’d at least managed some warning for him. “Yeah Steve, I’m dying here.” I flipped the cap on the oil and it’s sent released into the air. It was sultry and low. If it were possible I would say that it smelled like warmth. The musk in it always made me think of the way a mans crotch smelled, you know, that little crease where his thigh meets his cock and balls. It was like that with something slightly sweet and soothing laced into it.
I finally steeled myself and straddled him. I was afraid to move too much at first. So basically I was sitting on his ass. It was almost enough to undo me. It was a surreal moment, here I was sitting on Matt’s ass, on a straight guys ass, and the only thing that I was wearing was a towel. I nearly came right there. I hadn’t been hard before, but the moment I felt his warmth beneath me I had an erection so rigid that it hurt. I took a few breaths to steady myself and reached forward.
I smoothed the oil over his shoulders, just a light touch. I worked there for a minute. Digging the thumbs into the tense muscles at the base of his neck and drawing them out over his shoulders over and over. He hummed at me. “That’s good Steve, do my neck next please.” The sounds of his little humming sounds of pleasure were knifing straight to my center. I could feel the towel getting damp, and then wet, around my cock head. I was leaking so much I was starting to wonder if I’d cum and just hadn’t noticed. I reached up and began to massage his neck. I started under the ears, circling inward and drawing my thumbs down his spine while my hands worked on his shoulders.
By this point I was gone. I wasn’t anywhere close to coherent. I was so into touching him that everything else was gone. I was caught up in the texture of the hair at the nape of his neck. The slide of my hands across the skin of his shoulders. So caught up that I didn’t notice anything until he gave a breathy little moan and tilted his head to give me access to his neck. That’s when I finally noticed.
I was stretched out over him. My chest on his back. I was so close that I could see the hairs on his nape feathering out every time I exhaled. I noticed how he smelled, a mixture of the oil and his sweat. I suddenly remembered that he hadn’t showered after the climb. The feeling of his skin was driving me insane. I wanted to feel, to feel the abrasion of my chest hair as I moved against him. I wanted to pour oil on his back, to make it slick while I slid against him. So he could feel me behind him, solid and hot. I was out of control at his point, I pulled my self up him, using his shoulders as a handle. It was just a little, just enough to feel my chest move against him. What I succeeded in doing was lodging my dick firmly in the crack of his ass. Even through two layers of fabric, my towel and his shorts, I could feel the heat of him.
If he’d held still. If he’d been quiet. I think that I would have been able to stop. He didn’t though. He reached behind me and tugged at the towel. I lifted my hips without thinking about it. The towel fell to the floor. He started to lower his shorts and only made it to mid-thigh before I lost it. I fell back on him, my cock fitted to his ass like it was made to be there. Thrusting over and over, not inside, but just riding his crack back and forth. The hair lining him had me crazy. I knew that the friction of it was going to get me off any second. I reached under his hip, pulling him up urgently. In a moment his cock was filling my hand. Hard and hot, moist from his sweat. It was too much. The moment I touched it I started to come. I could feel my heat spurting around my cock, lubing it. I started to thrust faster, the new slickness prolonging my orgasm. I stroked him while I came. I was saying his name over and over, but it was lost against his neck and I kissed and bit it. He was only a few seconds behind me. Shooting into my hand, nearly searing me with his cum. He slumped down when he finished, letting me lay on top of him. I wasn’t able to think. Really I could barely breathe.
So now, how did we go from that to Matt setting up a dinner to introduce me to Sheila?
That’s next chapter, okay I lied about it being complete, but I really like this one.
“How could he just forget?” I thought to myself, looking at my best-friend Matt. He was seated next to a gorgeous red-headed woman who seemed enchanted by him. I couldn’t help taking in every detail of the man that held her so entranced. Dark, nearly black, hair cut to a medium length. The casual disarray of it more attractive than any hour of styling could provide. Blue eyes framed by strong defined brows and almost womanishly long eyelashes. They were the blue of the sky after a winter rain had cleared. Not a bright azure blue, but a darker, more intense, sapphire.
His jaw-line was defined sloping down to meet a squared off chin and just barely touched with the shadow of a beard. His neck was thick and showed a glimpse of hair as it met the collar of his shirt. The chest and arms thick, corded with muscle that showed a dedication to hard work at the gym. His midsection was surprising lean, under the muscle of his upper torso, obviously toned even under the material of his shirt. The only word that came to my mind to describe it was “lithe.”
His lower body was hidden by the table he was sitting at, but I can tell you from memory what I would have seen. From the front; Strong thighs, and supple calves leading down to his well proportioned feet. At times when he walked it seemed as though his pants would rip off from his muscles flexing. From the rear he was even more impressive. His ass rose from the small of his back like two perfect domes, at times you could even see the dimple in the side of his cheek as it flexed through his jeans. Bubble doesn’t begin to describe it.
His face, I don’t even want to go into. It would flow from look to look like and actor practicing his roles. Mischievous one moment, innocent the next. No matter what look he had on though his lips and expressive eyes would always give him a look of slow lethargy. As though he’d just had the best sex of his life and was enjoying the afterglow while talking to you. The impression was strong enough it would make you want a cigarette for the sensuality of it.
So, yeah, basically Matt’s a fucking walking god, and if you couldn’t notice, I would definitely love to worship at that altar. Which brings me to the good part. I did get to once. The night before in fact. I had the most mind-blowing, life altering experience of my life and now Matt’s sitting there like nothing happened. God, he was a fucking bastard.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I barely even noticed when Matt spoke to me. “Steve… Hey, Steve, snap out of it, come meet Sheila, she wants to say hi.” He said, gesturing vaguely at the woman (though I was thinking slut) next to him. I wandered over and spoke to her briefly. “Hey, I’m Steve nice to meet you Sheila.” I held out my hand to shake hers. She didn’t seem satisfied with this though, as she immediately stood up and hugged me. The feeling of her tits rubbing against me was enough to put an end to any heated thoughts I’d been having. Those things must have been big enough to serve as a flotation device for about five people.
Sheila began to natter on at me, obviously unaware of my negative thoughts about her breasts. “Matt’s been telling me about you for months Steve it’s great to finally meet you!!” I swear to god you could hear the second exclamation point she tacked onto the end of that sentence, not that I was surprised by it, she was a good ten years younger than us and probably hadn’t begun to think about acting like a thinking being. After my internal criticism of her vocal punctuation the meaning of what she’d said finally managed to sink in. “Months?” I asked, shocked, “I haven’t heard him mention you once.”
Now I’ll be the first to admit that wasn’t the nicest thing to say, but it felt really good at that point. She reared her little head back for just a second, all 5’1 of her readying itself to launch a verbal assault my way before she relaxed and finally decided that I’d been joking. “Oh, you kidder.” She said, slapping my upper arm. “I’m sure that he has, he mentions me to everyone.” I really wanted to contest this point but the look that Matt was giving me said, “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.” So rather than keep at it on general principal I let the matter drop and added it to the big pile of pissed off that I was already planning on hurling at Matt later.
“I wanted you to meet Sheila tonight Steve, I decided that I wanted you to be here for something that I have planned tonight.” Matt said to me. I had several visions of what he had planned. In most of them he left Sheila at the table and took me out to the dance floor for a slow, grinding song. In some Sheila repeated attempted to divert his attention from me while we played footsy under the table all though dinner. My favorite though, had to be the one where he swept everything off the table and made love to me while Sheila wept and everyone else in the restaurant went on eating as though nothing had happened.
I just realized that I started at the middle of the story though. Maybe I should tell you a little about me and Matt. You should know some of our history and what happened the night before, before you hear what occurred that night at dinner.
First a little about me. My name is Steve Greco, Stephan di Pietro Gabriel Greco, to be exact. Hell of a name to hang on a kid, but my parents are old school Italian Catholics. In the neighborhood I grew up in, no one had less than four names. I grew up poor, my parents were hard workers but had decided to marry and have kids right out of high school. There were eight of us in total, I was the oldest. They’re not really important to what I have to tell you but I figured you’d like some background. At the time that I’m writing this I’m 35 years old. I’m about 5’8, about four inches shorter than Matt. I’ve got black hair that I keep short and spike when I go out. My eyes are brown. I’m not as muscle bound as Matt but I try to keep in shape. My arms and chest are decent but I’ve never really been happy with stomach. It’s flat (For which I’m happy, my family for the most part aren’t small people) but I can’t seem to get a set of abs to develop to save my life. To top it off I’m hairy, not like, you know, in the center of my chest. It starts at the bottom of my neck and goes down to my cock. I’m freaking lucky that so far my back has remained relatively hairless. I’ve been told I’ve got a nice ass, and I know my legs are my best feature. Years of swimming and running had left them long and lean. They were really the only place I didn’t mind the hair at that point. I’ve got a decent cock, it’s about seven inches erect, I never measured how big about but if I make a circle with my forefinger and thumb it fits in there perfect.
I’ve known Matt since we were 14 so 21 years now. We met in high school. Algebra class actually, he kept on trying to get me to give him answers to a quiz we were taking. The teacher caught us and sent us to detention after school that day. He spent the whole hour trying to make it up to me. I ended up at his house after school and by two weeks after that we were inseparable.
It was an odd friendship really. He was a football player who made decent grades but depended more on his ability to get people to like him to make it though school. I was a swimmer and, before I met Matt, I spent most of my time studying. We ended up helping each other through school, I tutored him and he helped me lighten up. By the end of the four years there was no question that we would be going to the same college.
We were roommates in the dorms our Freshmen year and moved out to an apartment by beginning of sophomore. We lived together until we graduated, him in criminal justice and myself in chemistry. He became a cop, eventually working his way up to detective by 32. I went to work for a pharmaceutical company testing new plant species as they came up for anything that looked promising from a medical standpoint. Even though we each had houses now we still say each other a few times and week and spent nearly every weekend together. The only real exception to this was when he was dating some woman he’d met.
He dated pretty regularly. No one for more than a few months but at least two women a year. I never really did get into dating. I’d known for years that I was gay but never really felt like I could tell anyone. I done some experimenting in college and had fucked, and been fucked, a few times. I think that somewhere I knew, that no matter who I ended up dating, they just wouldn’t be able to compare to Matt.
Things went on like that for years, until the night before our dinner. It was a Friday night and Matt and I had decided to go wall climbing at the gym. By the time that we got back to my place we were both sore and stiff. I kept up a pretty steady line of jokes about him getting old before his time ‘cause it seemed to be getting to him more than me. I ran to the shower first, even though he’d called it. He chewed me out a little for taking advantage of his “Painful exhaustion.” I finished up as quick as I could so that there would be hot water left for Matt. I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed into my bedroom.
Matt was sprawled out facedown on my bed. “I’m too tired to friggen shower much less drive home.” He said, words slightly muffled by the pillow his face was resting on. “I’m just gonna stay here tonight Steve.” I walked over and started pushing at him. “Well get up then, if you’re staying over you know where the guest room is.” He groaned and resisted my efforts to shift him. I stopped at the groan and checked to make sure that he was okay. “Stop faking it lazy-ass, there’s a bed in the next room for you, get moving.” He just shifted into a more comfortable position and generally set about getting himself ready for a nice long stay. “Don’t wanna.” He said, like a little kid. “Give me a massage and I’ll think about it.” I stood stock still for a moment. This was my friend Matt, the man of my dreams, asking me to give him a massage, in my bedroom, at night, while I’m in a towel. I was waiting for the person with a camera to pop out of my closet and yell, “Surprise! You’re on Candid Camera,” or for Matt to laugh and say just kidding.
Just so you know, this wasn’t normal for us. We’d been friends forever but our touching mostly consisted of hugs when we hadn’t seen each other for awhile or punches to the arm and that kind of stuff. A massage was definitely new. I didn’t know if I wanted to. I mean, I did want to, I’d finally get a chance to touch him, to feel what I’d been looking at for so long. I’d have time to really memorize the feel of him, to imprint it on my muscle memory. At the same time though, I was worried that if I did this I’d give myself away. That he’d finally know that his best friend was lusting after him. I didn’t even know If I could get though a whole massage without trying to kiss his neck or just lie down on him to feel him against me.
I had never felt as desperate as I did in that moment while he waited for my answer. I wanted to so badly, just so I’d know. It was terrifying though. I knew that I was going to say yes. I don’t think that I could have said no. But my voice hadn’t caught up with the rest of me yet. When it did I was surprised. I expected a squeaky yes to pop out of me. What did come out was ragged, strained, and husky. Like I was on the edge already. “Take off your shirt.”
“Take off your shirt” was all I said, and I’ll admit that I was surprised when he did. I watched the muscles in his back roll and stretch as he reached behind himself to pull it off. I looked at his back for just a moment. It probably isn’t as perfect as I remember it. In that moment though, it seemed to be. Broad shoulders followed by a muscular upper back. All of it slowly tapering down to the waistband of his shorts. Matt was pale, but the amber light from my lamp gave his skin a golden tone, like he was just barely sun-bronzed. I looked away so I could catch my breath. I hadn’t even realized that I’d been holding it. “I think that I have some massage oil in the cabinet, Matt.” That strange voice said again. I sounded like I’d just smoked a pack in a half-hour, or like I hadn’t spoken in months and was learning how again.
I walked back into the bathroom and grabbed the bottle of oil. I’d bought it to jack off with. It was funny really. I always used it when I was thinking about him but I never dreamt that it would touch him. The thought was acutely arousing. I could feel desire curling in my stomach just thinking about it. I passed by my shorts as I walked back to the bedroom. I considered putting them on again and then decided not to. I wanted to be able to feel as much as I could. I was convinced that this would probably be our last night as friends and if it was, I wanted to make it memorable.
As I walked up to the bed I felt ready to explode. It was like my skin was too tight to hold in everything that I was feeling. It was exhilaration, dread, arousal, and hope. All rolled up into a tight ball in my solar plexus. My heart was beating so hard I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. “Ready?” I managed to cough out, glad I’d at least managed some warning for him. “Yeah Steve, I’m dying here.” I flipped the cap on the oil and it’s sent released into the air. It was sultry and low. If it were possible I would say that it smelled like warmth. The musk in it always made me think of the way a mans crotch smelled, you know, that little crease where his thigh meets his cock and balls. It was like that with something slightly sweet and soothing laced into it.
I finally steeled myself and straddled him. I was afraid to move too much at first. So basically I was sitting on his ass. It was almost enough to undo me. It was a surreal moment, here I was sitting on Matt’s ass, on a straight guys ass, and the only thing that I was wearing was a towel. I nearly came right there. I hadn’t been hard before, but the moment I felt his warmth beneath me I had an erection so rigid that it hurt. I took a few breaths to steady myself and reached forward.
I smoothed the oil over his shoulders, just a light touch. I worked there for a minute. Digging the thumbs into the tense muscles at the base of his neck and drawing them out over his shoulders over and over. He hummed at me. “That’s good Steve, do my neck next please.” The sounds of his little humming sounds of pleasure were knifing straight to my center. I could feel the towel getting damp, and then wet, around my cock head. I was leaking so much I was starting to wonder if I’d cum and just hadn’t noticed. I reached up and began to massage his neck. I started under the ears, circling inward and drawing my thumbs down his spine while my hands worked on his shoulders.
By this point I was gone. I wasn’t anywhere close to coherent. I was so into touching him that everything else was gone. I was caught up in the texture of the hair at the nape of his neck. The slide of my hands across the skin of his shoulders. So caught up that I didn’t notice anything until he gave a breathy little moan and tilted his head to give me access to his neck. That’s when I finally noticed.
I was stretched out over him. My chest on his back. I was so close that I could see the hairs on his nape feathering out every time I exhaled. I noticed how he smelled, a mixture of the oil and his sweat. I suddenly remembered that he hadn’t showered after the climb. The feeling of his skin was driving me insane. I wanted to feel, to feel the abrasion of my chest hair as I moved against him. I wanted to pour oil on his back, to make it slick while I slid against him. So he could feel me behind him, solid and hot. I was out of control at his point, I pulled my self up him, using his shoulders as a handle. It was just a little, just enough to feel my chest move against him. What I succeeded in doing was lodging my dick firmly in the crack of his ass. Even through two layers of fabric, my towel and his shorts, I could feel the heat of him.
If he’d held still. If he’d been quiet. I think that I would have been able to stop. He didn’t though. He reached behind me and tugged at the towel. I lifted my hips without thinking about it. The towel fell to the floor. He started to lower his shorts and only made it to mid-thigh before I lost it. I fell back on him, my cock fitted to his ass like it was made to be there. Thrusting over and over, not inside, but just riding his crack back and forth. The hair lining him had me crazy. I knew that the friction of it was going to get me off any second. I reached under his hip, pulling him up urgently. In a moment his cock was filling my hand. Hard and hot, moist from his sweat. It was too much. The moment I touched it I started to come. I could feel my heat spurting around my cock, lubing it. I started to thrust faster, the new slickness prolonging my orgasm. I stroked him while I came. I was saying his name over and over, but it was lost against his neck and I kissed and bit it. He was only a few seconds behind me. Shooting into my hand, nearly searing me with his cum. He slumped down when he finished, letting me lay on top of him. I wasn’t able to think. Really I could barely breathe.
So now, how did we go from that to Matt setting up a dinner to introduce me to Sheila?
That’s next chapter, okay I lied about it being complete, but I really like this one.
