DAVID 190
Even though we were alone in the huge house, he closed the bedroom door. He strode over to the other side of the room and opened the doors to the balcony. A warm breeze made the curtains puff inward, and they wavered but held that shape as the steady stream of air wafted into the room. He looked so beautiful in the late afternoon sun; tall and tan and outrageously muscular…a magnificent animal. It was going to be a brilliant orange sunset, and I surmised that I would not see it with my eyes, but would feel it with my skin. He stripped the bed and threw the bedclothes on a velvet couch, and then he motioned with his chin for me to lie down on the bed. The sheets were cool. I was face down, slowly sweeping my arms across the smoothness and breathing in the fresh, sweet scent of clean laundry, and then I felt the mattress move. I froze, closed my eyes, and waited. A few seconds later, he descended upon my back, so gently, so softly. I felt his chest hair on my back. I felt the heat and weight and hardness of his cock nestle between my buttocks, and then I felt his tongue on the back of my neck. I gasped. Again, for a moment, I held my breath. And then he spent the next half hour using his tongue and his lips to drive me crazy. Behind my ears, across my neck, down my spine, and then, while spreading my legs and holding them in an iron grip, he took his sweet time and moved his tongue between my buttocks and thighs in ways I’d never dreamed of.
He seemed to want no part of me trying to please him. He took great pleasure in seeing me jolt and shudder and whimper at his touch, and from such a big man, his touch was amazingly gentle. There were times when I wanted to catch my breath, to say something to him, to nuzzle my face in his chest, but he didn’t let me do anything. I was a willing toy, an instrument that he played, and my moans and gasps and tremblings were the music. His only interest was seeing how constant, how intense, how controlling he could be. The only words I managed to get out were stuttering gasps of his name. The few times that he had me in a position to see his face, I could just gawk because the room had filled with the golden light of sunset, and the whole world seemed gold and brown and beige and yellow, and piercing this wonderful palette, was the blue of the sky beyond the balcony and the sky blue of his eyes as they looked down on me with a merciless but gentle gaze.
I was on top of him now, my back to his chest, and his rigid meat was thrust between my thighs, rubbing my balls. I wanted it. I wiggled and lifted my hips, but every time the head of his cock pressed against my hole, he’d move his hips away. He wrapped his arms around me, pinning my arms to my sides. I begged him for it. He said he didn’t want to hurt me. I cried. I pleaded. I assured him that I could take it. He assured me that he didn’t need to fuck, and that he loved what he was doing now. What he was doing now was ****** my crotch, rocking his hips up and down, making his hot, dripping pole rub my thighs and balls and driving me into a frenzy. I pleaded again and again. He answered by slipping his tongue in my ear. Sometimes, that is the ultimate fuck…a small, wet, inescapable screwing of one’s brain. I fought against his huge arms, trying to escape, dreaming of grabbing that huge, swollen cock and guiding it to my buttocks. He asked me if I really wanted it and I screamed and begged. Finally, he let me go. I squatted over his hips and he held his cock straight up beneath me. I pressed down on it and took it in. It was so big. I wondered if I’d made a mistake. And then I felt his big hands grab me under my arms. He supported me. I relaxed. And then he slowly, slowly let me sink down onto it. When I’d whimper, he’d pause. When I’d moan, he’d resume. And when I finally had him all the way in me, he pulled me back onto him and gently rocked his hips and made me feel like a small boat on the water. It was a strange, sweet kind of agony…the stretching, the fullness, and the wonderful feeling that I had what everyone wanted inside me, and that finally I was making him feel good. Now he shuddered and gasped my name. His hips moved faster and faster, and several times he stopped, moaning and gasping as he fought the urge to cum, so that we could take in each other’s warmth along with the rays of the setting sun.
Suddenly, he grabbed my jaw and turned my head to face his. Oh the look on his face! No longer in control, but on the verge of a screaming orgasm. He called out my name desperately, and then he covered my mouth with his and pushed his way in. Moaning, he fucked my mouth with his tongue. With my head twisted to face him, my neck began to ache. He released my jaw and his big paw gently massaged my neck muscles. I felt as though I was melting into him. There was nothing I could do but savor his tongue, feel the caress of his chest hair on my back, the flexing of his pecs as he crushed me to him, and the relentless rocking of his hips. I did indeed feel so much like some instrument he played, because with his other hand, he stroked my torso up and down, never quite stopping long enough on my nipples or my cock, but always making me buck and squirm for more, and always denying me. My cock was stiff and wet and I knew that he knew that if he wrapped that big, rough hand around my bobbing staff, I would cum hard. I wanted to beg him for it, but we were now in the familiar phase of a kind of game. My loins were like a cocked gun, ready to go off at the slightest touch, and the moment I showed the want and need for rest, he went in for the kill. At that moment, I fought him…I struggled. And at that moment, understood between us both that this is what we both wanted to happen, he ravished me gently. He wouldn’t let me speak…I cried out into his mouth. He wouldn’t let me move…he wrapped one huge, muscular arm around me, pinning me against his chest. He wouldn’t let me extricate myself…he fucked me softly, slowly, relentlessly.
He wouldn’t let me have any control at all…he wrapped his other hand around my wet cock, barely touching it, and began to softly tease it with long, slippery strokes.
Each breath became a cry of desperation from me, rising in pitch, higher and higher as I got closer and closer. He moaned in ecstasy as though those desperate, frantic mewlings were music to his ears. I kicked my legs. I dug my heels into the sheets. I arched my back. I spread my toes and my fingers. I held my breath. And as I jolted and jerked in my orgasm, I felt him hold me even tighter, and I felt safe…safe to scream, safe to sob, safe to jerk, safe to be paralyzed for a few seconds while my balls emptied themselves in a mind-rending orgasm.
2005