‘C-mon up!’
I press ‘9’ on the keypad to release the door lock. ‘C’mon up,’ the sound of my voice echoing in my mind, thinking to myself ‘You sound like whatsisname – Johnny Olson – on ‘The Price is Right’. I hear the click on the phone, and hang it up. Butterflies in my stomach, excitement kicking in. I visualize him, waiting now at the elevator, even getting in maybe, and on the way up.
I go over to the door, glance around for a last minute check of the room, open it, and stand waiting for him for when he exits on the floor.
I swallow, my gorge rising, a knot tightening my throat. Doggone, I am saying to myself, it’s happening. He has had to bail how many times, but this time, he is on his way up. In a minute we’ll be in each other’s arms, each holding the other tightly, the thrill of it electric, imagining it.
‘Glad to see me?’, I can imagine him saying, ‘You better believe,’ I am saying, feeling his bulge pressing into mine, and it rising up, stiffening, and with it a flush rising up, hot and getting hotter, scarlet, from my neck up through my face. I anticipate what it will be like, holding him, wondering at the marvel of him.
Sure we have been chatting on line, each chat hotter, more intimate than the last, – ‘next best thing’ we say to each other, – but to actually have each other in each other’s arms, it really has been too long. For sure too long when you crave each other as we have come to crave each other.
In my mind’s eye, I am taking his measure. We’re about a height. He’s maybe an inch or so shorter, but otherwise we stand eye to eye. His shoulders, arms, muscular – pecs well developed. Perfect. His bodybuilder abs, obliques, his Adonis belt, tapering down to his groin, and his groin – beauty, big, thick, long, uncut, suckable. ‘Immanently suckable’, I tell myself. And I do like going down on him.
I’m needing a haircut. He’ll have something to say about that. A jibe. All in jest, because, when we embrace, he likes to run his fingers up through my hair, holding my face to his, his tongue penetrating my mouth, deep kissing. Our tongues will do their little dance, a thrust and parry. And kissing, he will pull me into him, and I will pull him into me, tighter. By then, of course, we’ll have closed the door.
‘Wear those grey sweat pants,’ he told me, ‘I want to undress you, get you out of them.’ His hands will be at the waistband, stripping them down. And I, likewise, will be at his belt, un-notching it, unzipping his fly. He will, of course, be commando – we both are, as usual – and as I open his pants it will fly free, to stand up and out. As will mine. And I will reach out to grab his, as he will mine, to stroke it, pulling back and rolling down the foreskin, and rolling it back. Him stroking mine, me stroking his, the thrill of it, man to man, touching it.
‘Easy,’ he will say, ‘that’s a five-month’s load!’ And I jerk back involuntarily at the thought of him when he touches mine. ‘Damn, he is one hot dude,’ I think to myself, ‘eight and a half inches of man meat, and all for the delight of taking it by the mouthful, feeling his flood as he rises to his climax, savouring it before swallowing it.
‘Five months,’ I think. ‘Yes, I guess it has been.’ ‘November till now.’ ‘An eternity.’ He was supposed to have been here in early December. Then he got whatever it was going the rounds, putting him off his feet. And then it was Christmas, and we had to lay off, each of our families taking precedence. Being discreet, of necessity. ‘What they don’t know, won’t hurt them. Nobody’s business but ours, what we do,’ we reaffirm. But it means we didn’t get to give each other the blow-jobs we intended for Christmas.
‘Magnificent,’ I am remembering, the first time he came here, and we got naked. Slim of hips, a trimmed growth of blue-black hair on his chest, merging down his treasure trail. Magnificent, that length between his legs, pubes shaven – yes! Commando. And not sure what he should do with the T and jeans he had shucked off. ‘Here,’ I said, taken them, folding them, and laying them over the chair. Then, glancing over to me to be sure, he sat on the bed, swung his legs up, and settled his head of the pillow on my side of the bed, his arms up, cradling that gorgeous head of hair. And looking back at me. ‘Move,’ I said, sitting on the bed beside him, getting him to shush across to let me lay down beside him.
Then his left arm came down, palm open, landing squarely on my groin, his hand covering my hard-on. And grasping it. Almost defiantly, but at the same time checking that I was okay with it. I was. Oh, I was. Electric. More than electric, the sensation sweeping through me. And I reached over, and took his. Again, magnificent. Again electric. Gripping his hard-on, and it rock-hard, pulsing.
‘You like that?’ he quizzed. ‘I like that,’ I remember answering.
‘You’re into cock?’ he continued. ‘I like cock!’ I replied. ‘Yes,’ emphatically, ‘I like cock.’ ‘And, right now,’ I continued, enthusiastically, ‘I like your cock.’ ‘I surely do!’
We snuggle into each other, again electric, feeling, sensing the intimacy of his closeness. I feel his shoulder, strong, hard-muscled, and his arm, the biceps firm, flexing. Thrilling. Our legs are now entwinned, his right leg over my left. Again thrilling, electric. And now our feet, playing with each other.
He is nuzzling my ear. I hear his voice, ‘You or me?’ Meaning who goes down on whom first. I don’t wait to be asked again. I flip, and in one quick move I have his cock in my mouth. He jerks, and I hear him moaning, – ‘oh, oh, oh, oh, oh’ – writhing on the bed beside me. ‘Oh gawd, oh gawd, oh gawd,’ I hear him.
Then, ‘I’m coming.’ ‘I’m coming!’ He is pushing his pelvis up into my face, and, ‘Aw, shit ..!,’ I sense the gush as he pumps out his seminal load into my mouth, warm, viscose, satisfying. ‘Quick,’ he says, ‘I want it,’ and he twists himself around, his mouth closing on mine, prying open my lips, and sucking out the contents of my mouth into his. I immediately suck the load back into mine, snowballing.
‘Buggar,’ I hear him say, ‘that was quick.’ ‘Damn, we hardly even got started.’ And I sense him softening.
I look down the corridor, chaffing that the elevator has not come up yet. I check my Fitbit. He’s right on time. Even a bit early. And the date. April 17. Five months to the day, November 17, the last we got naked.
I think I was ready for it then. No, maybe not. We were still talking about it, feeling out whether either of us really was prepared to go all the way. Lord knows my guts were aching for it, wanting his length inside me, ‘penetrating the pucker’, going deep inside me, as deep into me as he could do it, my sphincter pulling him in, until I was sure he was up, way up, almost to my tonsils. Fuck, did I want that.
Maybe it was coming down from having blown our loads. Whatever. But somehow we got sidetracked, veered away from the moment of decision. But a conversation to be resumed, each of us opening even more to the speculation of what each of us wanted, and when and how we would achieve it.
Bareback, yes. No question. Nothing between us. Long and slow, snuggling, holding each other, his belly to my back. Him, hard, rock hard, skinned back. Lubed. Probing to find and access my opening. My ass opening to him.
Butterflies again. Today is the day. Today is the day I get to take it up my ass. Eight and a half inches of man-meat – his eight and a half inches of man-meat – up my bum. Bone hard. Up straight. In my gut there is a little convulsion, thinking of it.
I’m ready for it. We’re ready for it. We’ve talked about it. We’ve talked around it. We have talked about I would spread my legs, opening myself up to him, steering his boner to hit the spot, thrusting, but not quite penetrating. Humping. Dry humping. Feeling what it would be like to have his cock at my ass, prodding and probing, but never quite getting it in there.
And, fuck, do I want it in there. In there, and way up in there, deep. Stretching the sphincter, imagining it coming in, slowly, big, filling my ass. Deep. And deeper still, until I can feel it in the back of my throat. Pushing at my prostate, thrill after thrill spiralling up from my gut. Wham. And wham again. Loving it. Loving it, loving it, loving it.
Rocking, rolling, grunting, pushing back at him, him coming at me again. And again. And again.
And then, suddenly, his breath coming in short gasps. ‘I’m coming,’ I will hear him say, ‘I’m coming.’ ‘Gonna shoot into you.’ And then, suddenly, – expiation. The warm flood, filling my guts. His semen flooding my interior, my sphincter tightening to contain it. ‘Ah, ah, ah, aw, oh, awww,’ I will hear him. Hear me. Him now grasping me, holding me to him, his hard cock still shooting out his essential self. Glorious. It is going to be glorious.
I hear the elevator stopping, the door rumbling open, and, a second later, he steps out, and I see him looking first to his left, then around to his right, looking at me, a grin spreading across his face. And a grin spreading across my face. And involuntarily, my anal opening clutching.
In two steps we are closing the door behind us. His arms are around me, my arms around him. Between us, his coming-up boner. “Glad to see you,’ he says. I reach down, and yes, he is glad to see me. Just as the same I am glad to see him. The two of us, merging, in the hug. The electricity between us, tingling.
‘Yes. We’re gonna do it,’ I am thinking.
We have not broken the embrace, his hair brushing my cheek. I am fumbling at his belt, at his fly. He is at the elastic of my sweatpants, frantic. I’m coming up hard, throbbing hard. He is too. ‘Fuck’, I think.
Then, pants down around his ankles, stepping out of them, me, stepping out of mine, his hands grasping my ass, teasing, ‘You’re sure you want this?’ And there it is. Eight and a half inches, red, raw boner, angled up from pubes to belly. My sphincter convulses. “I’m sure!” I tell him, no hesitation.
Into the bedroom, onto the bed, a bit of cuddling. Snuggling. Foreplay. Him playing with me, me playing with him. His. Hard. Stiff. I’m hard. ‘Finally,’ I am telling myself. My ass to his belly, spreading my cheeks. ‘Finally, we are getting to do it,’ I am telling myself, ‘The two of us, together, as one.’
Then, lubed …