Bruce, Love, Erect, Sex, Romance, Nipple, Trip to Cabin
DAVID 259
"Tell me what you want," he said, his voice mellow and deep.
I just grinned. "I just like being here with you," I said, and my words came out muffled because I couldn't enunciate clearly with my jaw resting on his chest. He smiled at my mumbling and continued to stroke my hair. I couldn't help but smile. I let my eyes wander. I felt that there was such an unspoken, subconscious hesitance that pervaded an encounter between two people; you mustn't stare at the person. You should be attentive. You should look them in the eye, but somehow there came a moment when you looked away for a split second so that attentiveness did not become staring. I felt that this feeling surfaced to the level of being a conscious act when you were talking to someone who was very beautiful.
But I found myself feeling so thrilled and privileged to take in the beautiful face just inches away from me. I didn't feel uncomfortable, and I could tell he didn't feel awkward either. We both looked at each others' eyes and hair and skin for a long time, but I found that my eyes always returned to try and name the remarkable shade of blue under those long, black eyelashes. Those eyes could nail you down and paralyze you, or they could seem somehow angelic.
I sighed, and I had to relieve the strain in my neck, so I rested my left cheek on his chest and closed my eyes. He slowly stroked my hair, and then I had a thought that made me smile, and the bunching of my cheeks made his hand stop.
"What," he asked.
With a smile in my voice, I answered sheepishly, "Nothing."
"Aw, c'mon now," he said.. "Please? Tell me what you're thinking."
I could feel my cheeks flushing. I hesitated.
"Please?"
"Noooo," I whined, still smiling. "I'm too embarrassed."
"Aw, now Bruce," he began, "We are naked!"
I laughed.
He shook me gently back and forth. "You know you can tell me anything. Especially if it's about something that would make you happy."
I just smiled.
"Is it about something that would make you happy?"
I waited, and then quietly, I said, "Yes."
"Tell me." His voice was not commanding or scolding. It was plaintive.
I looked back up at him, resting my chin on his chest. Suddenly, I couldn't meet his gaze.
"Does it have something to do with...hmm...something we might do right here? Right now?"
Clumsily, I nodded.
"Please tell me?"
I glanced at him for a second, and then looked away. "Well," I began. "You always make me feel so good. I just...I just feel like I'm drowning sometimes because...you do so many things to me at once. Your hands. You know just how to touch me. It's almost like you're reading my mind.
You know which part of me needs touching the most. Sometimes I get so short of breath, I feel like I'm gonna blow a fuse!"
He laughed.
"And sometimes I feel guilty because--"
"Guilty? Guilty? Why--"
"Because...because I wish I could do that to you."
His mouth dropped open. "But you do! You have no idea! Sometimes...", and his voice became very quiet, and he had the faintest look of concern on his face, and now he looked away. "Sometimes I think I go a little bit crazy waiting for you. It's kind of scary. I just know we're going to meet and I feel like...something...somewhere...is hurting me, and that the only thing that will cool it, the only way I can take a full breath again...is...is if my lips are touching yours. I want to hold you in my arms, and it feels like I'll never get enough. Like days and days later, I'll still be holding you.
And if that's not enough, I start thinking about you touching me, and then the hours and days till we meet just seem to stretch on and on and on, and I feel like I won't make it. I'm desperate for you. I need you right then and there. I feel like I could get down on my knees and beg for you to touch me. I love it when you touch me. Anywhere."
I smiled. "Yeah, but...it's different."
"How?"
"Well..." and I struggled to find the right words. "You're so big and strong." I waited a moment before I met his gaze again. "You can hold me in your arms."
"But you hold me in your--"
"But you can keep me in your arms. And even if I do something that feels nice to you, you can pull away for a second...to rest."
"That's just because...well, I feel like I'm gonna blow a fuse!"
We both laughed, and sighed, and stared into the distance.. "Well, that's good," I said. "But I just wish...."
He cocked his head, trying to look into my eyes.
"I just wish...that...that I could do it to you. I mean...sometimes I hear myself, and it sounds...well it sounds like you're hurting me but God knows you're not! Quite the contrary!"
He smiled.
"But I wish I could hear that from you. I mean, I wish there was some way...well, when you have me...when I feel like I'm gonna blow a fuse, I know it can't hurt me, but that feeling of being at your mercy...I like that."
"And?"
"Well, I wish I could have you that way. But you're so big and strong.."
"You want to just play me like a violin."
"Yes."
"Have your way with me."
"Yes."
"Stop when you feel like stopping."
"Yes."
"Have me at your mercy, knowing you can't hurt me, but knowing I'm on the verge of losing my mind."
"Yes!"
"Why, you little devil."
I just grinned.
"Okay," he said. "Consider me at your mercy. I promise not to stop you unless you accidentally smash your knee into my nose or something."
I laughed. "Really?"
"I am your toy. Wind me up as tight as you can."
I told him to lie down in the middle of the mattress. I told him to spread his legs. I resumed my position, chest to chest, and I kissed him for a long, long time. He seemed to melt beneath me. After a while, I shifted to one side, and I began to gently skim my hand back and forth over his chest. I felt him tense, and I stroked that magnificent chest to my heart's content, letting my hand sail back and forth, tracing the outline of his pecs, cupping the sides with my hand, and either skimming his nipples with a gossamer touch or just letting my fingertips miss them by a millimeter. Each time I did, his mouth dropped open and his upper body went stiff.
I cradled his head in the crook of my arm, and then I kissed him again, this time deeply. I invaded him, and he tried to return the favor, but I never paused. I licked his teeth. I probed his mouth. I held his head in a firm headlock so that he could not move his neck or head. I could tell his arms were moving. He didn't know what to do with them. Except for the blankets and pillows that had been shoved to the edge of the mattress, there was nothing to grab except the edge of the mattress. When he did that, he relaxed a little, and I wanted no part of that.
I wasn't sure if he was hard or not, but from the uneasy rigidity of him, I suspected all of him was rigid, and a moment later, I knew for sure. I slowly closed my thighs, bringing them together, trapping his hot, stiff, throbbing pole right under my balls. The gentle pressure made his eyes fly open. He made a sound. I sucked the breath right out of him.
And he let go of the side of the mattress. He squirmed. He grabbed me by the shoulders, and then he froze, remembering his promise. His hands went down to his sides. I felt him dig his heels into the mattress, He arched his body slightly, lifting me up, and then I squeezed my thighs together more tightly and rubbed my cock against the front of his hips. The movement of my hips caused the soft skin of my inner thighs to stroke his shaft, almost taking the sensitive head of his cock into the warmth between my thighs. I pulled my head away from his. He sucked in a huge breath.
"Oh God!"
I continued to rock my hips back and forth, and the gentle motion became slower and slower and slower. Desperate for more friction, he began to squeeze his buttocks together rhythmically in an attempt to fuck my crotch. I felt my balls skim the head of his cock. He moaned. I moved more slowly. I had to. The treasure trail of hair leading from his navel to his cock was directly under my shaft. I tortured myself, forcing myself to deny the instinct to fuck faster and faster. With each thrust, I lessened the grip I had on his huge pole until it was free from my thighs.
He was so erect that I'm sure that his massive cock would have slapped against his belly had I not been in its way. It could only strain against my balls, and with each passing moment I felt the slack grow tighter and tighter and tighter. He was so stiff; almost painfully so. His cock needed to rear up even more, but I held it perpendicular to his body, and I controlled the friction it received.
I closed my lips gently on his nearest nipple.
He gasped. He moaned. He sounded afraid. He arched his back. He tilted his head all the way back, and held his mouth open in anticipation. And then I ran the tip of my tongue across the sensitive surface...just once.
"OHhhhhh!"
Again, I felt his arms leave the mattress, and then a moment later they pounded against it. I felt his legs stiffen He was holding his breath. I moved my head as though to lick him again, but waited. He took in two shallow breaths, and then I gave him one long lick.
"OOhhhh! B-Br--!"
I licked him again.
"B-Bruce! Oh G-God!"
I licked him again.
"Br-Bruce!"
I licked him again, this time more slowly, bathing him in warmth and wetness and giving him the rougher, back of my tongue.
"BR-BRUCE!"
I licked him again, even more slowly. This time I placed my other hand provocatively on his other pec.
"OH G-God, Bruce!" His voice broke. It dissolved into a sob.
I'm sure he thought that I would let my other hand join in the work of my tongue, but I decided to surprise him. I brought my thighs together again.
"Ohhh!"
He began his gentle but desperate thrusting. I removed my hand from his hairy chest and reached behind me until I had the swollen head of his cock in my grip. Gently, as though turning the knob on a door repeatedly, I screwed gentle friction around the head of his cock.
He screamed. "NOOOOhnhhh G-God! Oh Br-Bruce!" I didn't stop. His hips reared up and then crashed back into the mattress. He went rigid for a split second, as though he thought he could steel himself against the sensations that were raining down on him, and then a moment later his hips went up, paused, and then came slamming back down onto the mattress.
I was amazed to find my hand so wet. His huge cock was drooling a slow but steady stream of slippery precum. With one quick move, I smeared as much as I could onto the palm of my hand, wrapped my hand around the head of his cock, and waited. He was gasping for breath, and at the first sign of recovery, I twisted my hand gently, coating the top of his cock in slipperiness.
He didn't know what to do. He let out a long moan, but his body was still. I think he was trying to pull his hips away from my grasp, and when he found that impossible, he rocked his hips from side to side. When that didn't work, he dug his heels into the mattress and scraped them against the fabric, as though climbing a ladder backwards.
I stopped for moment, until he was still, and then I moved my slick hand up and down his shaft twice. The kicking began anew. The moaning intensified to the point where it was just about to collapse into sobbing. His hips were trembling. I could tell he was clenching his powerful buttocks together. I turned my head for a moment to see his hand clutching the tight fabric of the mattress with a death grip., and then I scooted my whole body up and lifted his head into the crook of my arm again and took in the sights.
Any other time it would have seemed as though he was in the throes of some terrible agony, and the sight would have just broken my heart...completely. But I knew he wasn't hurting. I surely wasn't. With my free hand, I caressed his face and smoothed back his hair.
"Oh God!" he sobbed, somewhat intelligibly. "Oh G--"
That was cut short by my mouth returning to his, my tongue probing him with abandon. He whimpered. I felt his legs move. I felt his hips buck. I took my mouth from his for a second, allowing him a breath, and then my tongue tore into him again. Although his head was immobilized in the fold of my arm, I grabbed his hair gently with my free hand and held him. I think the feeling of being held prisoner from the neck up translated to his massive body because he went perfectly still for a few seconds...until I closed my thighs around his cock. Then he let loose a long moan into me. His cock was wetter, and my first thrust spread the slickness up and down his shaft, between my thighs, and under my balls. He moaned again, this time in desperate, uncontrollable pleasure. His hips stabbed forward clumsily, and then he steeled himself and began a more controlled thrusting. I tilted my hips back and up to give him more space. Now he could pull the head of his cock all the way between my thighs. I pressed my legs together as hard as I could so that his forward thrusts met with some resistance. But my slippery thighs were no match for the power of his hips, and after a second of resistance, his sex meat suddenly slid between my thighs so fast that the front of his hips slapped against mine. I let him continue. He fucked my crotch with increasing force, making a sound that was like desperate grunt with each thrust. Harder and harder, he fucked. He moaned, grateful for the friction, and then I destroyed his control.
I held his nipple ever so gently between my teeth. He collapsed.
"OH God! Bruce! OHhhhh G–G!"
That was all he said, or at least, all he tried to say: "oh God" or "oh Bruce". And then he sobbed, and when that started to dissipate, I held his other nipple with the thumb and forefinger of my other hand. I held it as though I was holding a ladybug, and the anticipation made him claw the mattress again. Although the sensations drove him crazy, he lifted his chest, as though begging me to torture him. Gently, I rolled the tender point of his pecs between my thumb and forefinger. Oh how he gasped and shuddered.. I pressed it between my thumb and forefinger very, very quickly, but oh so gently. Oh how he thrashed. I could feel him wanting to throw me off, not because he hurt, but because the nerves in his brain and his cock and his chest were screaming with pleasure. So I added my tongue to the sensitive point beneath my lips. Like a kitten lapping milk from a saucer, I drove him mad.
And just when I thought he would truly lose control, just when I thought that his arms would betray him and force me off of him, I took my tongue and my fingers from his chest and closed my thighs against the straining pole between my legs. I gave myself pleasure. I rubbed my cock against the front of his hips. He was momentarily paralyzed, but after a few seconds, with a desperate, whimpering abandon, he rocked his hips as much as he could, sliding his cock in and out of my crotch.
"Ohhhhhh G-...God!" he moaned. "OHhhhh! OHHHHH:"
He thrust faster and faster. The pitch of his whimpering became higher and higher.
And my thighs spread farther and farther apart, until he was stabbing thin air.
"NNOOO! Ohh p-please!"
That was the first time he said a word other than oh or God, or Bruce. His whole body shone with the faintest sheen of sweet, new sweat. His pecs were rock hard, in a continual flex. His chest was high, his buttocks were barely touching the mattress due to the rigid arch of his body. I wished so much that I could reach behind his hips and tickle the back of his balls, or trace lazy circles between his buttocks, or lick all up and down his spine and neck. Then he would have blown a fuse.
But for now, I was happy.
2006