California Lloyd 2: Being Good Samaritan has its Rewards
Introduction:
The thought of watching Lloyd’s beautiful naked body masturbating naked on the porch last night was difficult to push out of my mind throughout the rest of the following day……
But I had my mobile phone on, just in case! However, during the day when I checked, mobile reception seemed patchy and I realised I was probably a fool to have even thought I might hear from him.
I checked-in at the Yosemite Lodge about 6.30pm, having had an exhausting day of sightseeing, rambling and, if I say so myself, some stunning photography. After I had something to eat in the restaurant and had a short walk around the Village, I turned in and told myself to stop thinking about him. And I turned-off my mobile phone.
I was up quite early the following morning and while it was nice and clear out, it was quite cold before sun-up, so I decided to take the Valley Shuttle before breakfast, just for a ride down the Valley and back, to get the lie of the land and to see where I might want to go later in the day. Out of habit, I switched my phone on but there were no messages, even though there was a signal. If I’m honest, I hadn’t exactly forgotten about Lloyd but I already knew he and his parents were only staying the one night and would, presumably, be checking-out later today and moving on; so I had told myself (more than once) to give-up on any idea of seeing him again.
That was until about 40 minutes later, when the bus got to the Ahwahnee Hotel and I remembered that it was the hotel he and his parents were staying at!
Perhaps I should also tell you that the Shuttle bus runs every 20 minutes at that time of the morning and I had caught the second one of the day. You know what’s going to happen next, of course?
As the bus pulled-up, 3 people got on; a geeky-looking Japanese hiking couple and a young man wearing a “North Face” parka with the hood over his head. As the young man got on the bus and acknowledged the driver, he removed his hood and I recognized him instantly instantly. It was Lloyd!
I went all light-headed for a second, as my stomach did that “flip, flop” thing, my heart suddenly raced and a shiver went down my spine and disappeared somewhere inside, behind my testicles! However, there were only about six people on the bus by this time and he still didn’t see me sitting towards the back; instead, he moved into the bus and sat down about half-way down.
As the bus moved off, I got up and moved down the bus and sat down next to him.
“Hello again,” I said, “Fancy meeting you here!”
I really couldn’t resist the humour of such an apt but corny line. He turned to look at me, stared blankly for a second and then his face broke into a broad smile as he recognized me. He had such a lovely smile; his whole face seemed to light-up and his eyes sort of twinkled.
Clearly pleased to see me, he said,
“You got my message after all then. The signal round here keeps dropping in and out all the time.”
“Actually, no I didn’t,” I said, “and I noticed that about the signal too. So what did you say, in your message?”
He hesitated before replying, “Er, just that, if you were free, maybe we could meet for breakfast,” he said. I nodded.
“So where are you off to now then?” I asked, “Seeing as how you thought I hadn’t got your message.”
To my amazement, he started to go red in the face. The blush grew from his neck until it filled his cheeks. He was embarrassed! He suddenly looked so cute!
Looking awkwardly out the window, then only briefly at me, he eventually admitted,
“I was comin’ over to your hotel – to get breakfast in the restaurant, on the off-chance you’d be there.”
“Well that’s really nice,” I said.
I wasn’t sure quite what to say next but as the bus was now almost back at my hotel by this time, it just seemed to follow that we both got off there and went into the restaurant.
Minutes later, we were chatting over breakfast about what we had each seen yesterday. He hadn’t initially struck me as the sort to be moved by beauty in a landscape but every so often, as we talked, he got quite animated and enthusiastic. I was really warming to him. He went on to tell me that his Mom & Dad had a Family Room at the Ahwahnee, so he had shared with them last night.
“No more nocturnal wanderings last night then, I take it?” I said, rather cheekily.
His expression changed. He looked at me and blinked slowly.
“Just how much did you see the other night, anyways?” he asked.
I just looked back at him, smiled and raised my eye-brows.
“Hmm. Thought so,” he said with a sigh.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I should have kept quiet really – I don’t know what got into me.”
He nodded slowly, then said, “Anyway, thanks for not saying anything to my parents.”
Puzzled, I replied, “Why would I want to go and do that?”
But he didn’t respond. Instead, he now seemed to get a bit pensive. He looked down at the table, thinking; he was trying to summon-up courage to say something. Then he looked up and blurted-out,
“You ARE gay, I take it? That IS why you’re showing all this interest in me?”
I smiled and nodded in simple admission.
“Are you?” I replied softly.
Instantly, he started to go bright pink around the neck again.
“What gives you that idea?” he said, with a look of abject horror in his face.
There was what seemed like a long silence, while both of us felt awkward, not knowing quite what to say next. Then he surprised me by breaking the silence.
“I did have this mate in High School though – actually, he was my best mate really. Well, it turned out he was, you know, gay, and he tried it on with me…….and I er……..well…….let’s just say I didn’t deal with it very well and…….well, we’re not best mates any more!”
I wondered if he was warning me to back-off but on the other hand………….. I paused a second or two while I thought for a moment and then I asked,
“When was this?”
“’bout a year ago,” he said.
Then I risked asking the real question,
“Did he hurt you?”
He looked surprised and, shaking his head, he said,
“Oh no! Quite the opposite. I beat the living crap out of him! That’s why we aren’t mates any more!”
I was now taking stock of my own position and realizing I was in the company of a well-built young man who might just as easily “beat the living crap”, as he put it, out of me too! But evidently, this wasn’t what was on his mind. Realising what he had just implied, he was quick to reassure me.
“But don’t worry,” he laughed, “I’m not gonna do that to you!”
“I’m relieved to hear it!” I said, feigning a look of fear in my face.
“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Go ahead,” I said, thinking he was going to ask me something about my being gay – you know, the way straight boys sometimes do, just out of curiosity.
He said, “You aren’t Mormon are you?”
“Good Heavens, no!” I replied. Then it all began to fall into place. “Why – are you? Is that what all this is about?”
He now looked like the guilty school-boy, discovered by the Head-Master. There was a long pause and he then said,
“It’s just that, well, I haven’t been able to talk to anyone this way about it ‘til now.” And then he went on,
“Y’see, ever since that time a year ago, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it and, well……..wondering, you know.”
“Wondering what?” I asked him.
He shuffled in his seat, looked around to make sure no-one could hear.
“You know,” he whispered, “…..what it might be like …….”
He looked down at the table and covered his eyes with his hand, as if ashamed. He picked up his coffee, took a sip and winced when he realised it was cold.
He was such a lovely guy. He was obviously quite sensitive and inexperienced in these things, and that clearly bothered him. He had also revealed he was a Mormon, and I knew very well what torment this meant for him, if he was questioning his own sexuality but was, as likely as not, surrounded by people of such closed minds and firm convictions.
He didn’t look as if he had shaved this morning either, although his skin complexion was so soft and smooth that I was longing to touch it; to stroke it. And I’m ashamed to say, I was half-thinking about that cute masterpiece I saw in his hands, by the light of the street-lamp at 2.00am the other night, through the slats in the blind!
“It’s quite natural to be curious,” I reassured him. “And it doesn’t necessarily mean anything – if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I was about to ask him if he had a girl-friend and stuff like that, when he pre-empted my line of thought.
“When you said goodbye the other day, you said, ‘if ever I needed help’. What did you mean by that?”
The conversation had now entirely lost its humour and it was getting very serious, so I didn’t try to explain the humour of my remark at the time; for one thing, they say (we say!) that Americans often don’t understand English humour anyway, so I simply replied,
“It was just a figure of speech – friendship, that’s all.”
He thought for a moment, still stirring his coffee – even though he knew it was cold.
“The thing is,” he began, “I mean, I know I’m not…..well, I don’t think I’m, that way…….but sometimes I just feel like I want to find out what…….” and he tailed-off in mid-sentence; then, lowering his voice and looking down at the table again, he whispered, “…..you know, what sex with a guy would be like.”
With a kind of pleading look in his face, he looked into my eyes and said,
“Have you any idea what it’s like to be a Mormon and feel like this?”
And then to reinforce his point, he added,
“I mean, what I’m telling you…..all this…….what you saw the other night……..we’re all taught that it’s an abomination; if I don’t repent, the Lord will abandon me. If anyone found out…….well, I could be ex-communicated. Even my family – my own parents and brothers and sister could never speak to me again if that happened!”
I nodded.
“As I said,” I tried to reassure him, “It’s quite natural at your age to be curious about sex – all kinds of sex.”
Then I tried to lighten the tone by smiling and adding,
“It’s a very sexy time, being 19! And in this day and age, it’s too much to expect a young chap like you to be strong enough to resist. It seems to me that your beliefs shouldn’t need to be so strict.”
I wondered if he was expecting me to give him more of a philosophical argument but he sighed, clearly not convinced, and remained silent for a while, as I sat back in my chair and tried to read his expression. He looked at me with those lovely steel-grey eyes. For some reason, he had decided to unburden himself on me, a relative stranger, and I was both flattered and touched. But there was something else; he had a motive; an agenda, even if he wasn’t sure of it himself.
“Why are you telling me all this?” I asked him in a gentle tone. He pursed his lips and bit the inside of his cheek, as he pondered for a moment and then, looking round again to make sure no-one could overhear, he said,
“I suppose you’ve had sex with lots of guys then?”
The directness of his question embarrassed me a little but I composed myself and replied,
“Being gay isn’t all about sex, you know!” I thought I would match his directness with a little of my own,
“But since you ask, yes, I suppose I have.”
“Look,” I carried on, “You obviously want me to help you; and I will, if I can,” I assured him. “We can stay in touch, if you think that’ll help.”
Looking down at the table, he glanced up at me and then, looking down again, he seemed to be getting a little irritated or impatient. Then, he muttered half under his breath,
“I just need to find out. I need to do it with someone who I can be sure won’t tell anyone I know.”
And he looked across into my eyes with an almost mournful expression; I finally realised what he was asking.
Part of me felt I should say “No” and encourage him to respect his beliefs and just try harder to put it from his mind. But the greater part of me just wanted to take him in my arms and cuddle him, kiss him and love him; and to tell him to make up his own mind how he should reconcile his beliefs with what he knew in his heart he had to do.
So I checked that he was free from his parents for the time being and then said,
“I think we’d better get some fresh coffee and go back to my place, don’t you?”
So we did.
When we got back to my Lodge, I told him to make himself at home, as I closed the wooden slats of the balcony screens, blocking-out the stupendous view now being illuminated by the morning sun. There was another son, inside the room, that needed illumination instead! The pale, diffused daylight permeating the room made his skin seem even more soft and smooth. He had taken off his parka, revealing the white-vested torso I was already familiar with. He was also wearing the same camouflage pants as the other day and at that moment, I chided myself for thinking, “I hope he’s showered or at least washed properly this morning!”
I sat on the bed next to him, sitting there with his coffee in his hand, the shimmering liquid surface revealing that his hand was shaking. I put his coffee to one side and gently put my arm over his shoulder.
“It’s ok,” I reassured him. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
His face turned to me and his soft features appeared now almost boyish; those silky-brown eye-brows, that button nose and those luscious lips. Now he seemed so exposed and vulnerable. And his expression made me want to just cradle his face in my hands.
As I did so, I moved toward him, and made as if to kiss him, and he turned away, gently touching my hand and moving it away from stroking his cheek.
“No,” he said, “I’m not ready for that. I can’t do kissing.”
At about 5’ 10” and about 165lb, he was quite a big chap; compared to me at least, but all of a sudden he seemed so small and cute – and lovable.
I slowly moved my hand to his waist and gently lifted his white vest. He raised his arms in compliance and I was rewarded with the view of his exposed chest, just like the other night, smooth and hairless except for a few wispy hairs around his nipples – which this time I noticed were rather pronounced, rising as they did like small islands from his nicely developed pectorals.
I knelt in front of him, between his legs, the promise of a still-hidden pair of balls divided before me by the crotch-seam of his pants. Unlacing his walking boots, I lifted his feet out of them one by one and put them to one side. Sliding my hands in turn into each trouser-leg, I rolled-down his heavy socks, finally lifting his feet to pull them off entirely. The soles of his feet were soft and pink, unblemished, as if seldom walked on; and his toes and nails were perfectly formed. I raised his foot to my face and placed my cheek against it, stroking it, kissing it gently.
I stood up and he took little encouragement to do the same, standing in front of me, with my hands on the warm, soft sides of his trim waist. I released his belt and unbuttoned his camouflage pants, as he stood there, now seeming to tower over me, a good 4-5 inches taller than me. He remained passive, with his hands hanging limply at his sides, but he was watching my every move.
I proceeded to unbutton his flies, one button at a time, slowly pausing in-between each one, in case he wanted to stop me. But I became aware of how the military-green material of the front of his trousers was being stretched taught by what it now contained and I realised that he had an erection, bulging prominently downwards into the left leg of his pants. I put the palm of my hand gently against the firmness of it and there was a sharp intake of breath through his mouth, as with one touch, I discovered the tell-tale outline of the pronounced cut head of his penis; then he exhaled deeply and swallowed hard, as I looked at his face and saw that his eyes were now closed and his nostrils dilated.
I squeezed his engorged organ gently, just the once, before then releasing his camouflage pants and allowing them to fall to the floor, revealing a light “treasure-trail” of wispy hairs from his navel down to the top of a fresh pair of light grey patterned cotton boxer-briefs.
“Would you like to get into bed?” I quietly whispered to him, and as he went to lift the covers to get in, I quickly slipped-off my own clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor beside his. I kept my own white briefs on, as I slid into bed on the other side. For one thing, I was only too aware of the 20 year age difference between us and I was a little self-conscious but for another thing, I had an erection of my own and I was now soaking-wet from all my pre-cum; I thought that might be a bit too much for him to deal with in his first lesson!
I lay slightly up against the pillows beside his head, so that I could put my arm around his shoulders again. As I gently pulled him towards me, this time he didn’t resist, as I placed his face into the crook of my neck and my cheek alongside his soft cheek. And to my amazement, his arm came over and grasped me in a hug of such tenderness, as I felt his lips form a small kiss against the tender nape of my neck. He sighed deeply, as if in relief that he had finally broken through some kind of barrier.
I kissed him on the side of his cheek and we hugged like this for what seemed like a few minutes, me gently stroking the side of his body. His other arm came around from underneath me and suddenly, I was in the full grip of this strong young man, for the first time in his life sharing physical affection with another man.
I threw back the bed-clothes and moved across to straddle his legs. His grey cotton boxer-briefs could barely contain the beast within them but I resisted the obvious temptation. Instead, I lightly ran my finger-tips up and down the sides of his torso, over his arms, his smooth chest, the hard raised buds that were his nipples, and then over his stomach to his thighs beside me. His eyes were closed but his nostrils were dilated and he was breathing-in deeply and exhaling sharply, revealing that I was hitting all the right spots. I repeated the action, up and around and over his sensitive skin until I decided it was time for the ‘frontal assault’.
Without warning, I buried my face in the crotch of his underpants and immediately smelled the masculine aromas of musk and sweat. But his organ was hard against the side of my face and chin, separated only by a thin layer of cotton, and I massaged his tool with my face, as my chin now nuzzled into the cleft of his balls.
When I sat up to remove his boxer-briefs, I wondered if he would now change his mind but no, his eyes remained tight-closed as he lay there, passively content to enjoy what I was doing to him.
I revealed at last in soft daylight, what I had only seen previously in the half-shadows of night; in his groin was a luxuriant growth of tight dark curls atop a handsome pair of almost hairless balls, perfectly rounded and now bunched tightly beneath an erect organ that had now sprung forth from its cotton prison, and which now lay absolutely straight, up across his tummy towards his navel. Did I say the other night he was 9 inches? Well, maybe I exaggerated – just a bit. Even so, his cock nearly reached his own navel! Now, up close and in the cool light of day, I could now admire its full beauty and examine its every blood-vessel and detail.
I repeated the delicate tickling of his body I was doing earlier, this time allowing my finger-tips to stray to his inner thighs, his groin and around and under his testicles.
He began gasping in short, sharp breaths, his eyes opened, staring at the ceiling in a kind of trance. Over and around his waist, my fingers barely touched his skin, then back over his hip-bones they traveled, to the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, his groin and his balls.
When I eventually paused, he gasped again and I heard him finally whisper,
“No-one’s ever done that before.”
I threw off my own briefs and climbed on top of him and as we lay against one another, I could feel the warm hardness of his substantial organ against mine, oozing pre-cum between our two bodies. Soon we were entwined and hugging in a heat of almost frantic passion and I could feel his organ, large and full, slipping and sliding between our stomachs as I lay on him and he began thrusting upwards to me.
Sliding up his body, I buried my face in the nape of his neck, kissing and licking him, nibbling his ear, putting my tongue in his ear, and he began to go wild, breathing heavily and erratically in his newly-discovered ecstasy. His organ, now released from under my body, was sticking up behind my balls, into the crack of my backside, and I closed my legs together and gripped it between my thighs as I moved my face across his cheek and our lips met at last. Now at last, in passion, he willingly opened his lips and allowing our tongues to entwine and taste each other, as we kissed as no two men had kissed before. We paused for breath.
“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I said, with something of a “I told you so” smirk.
He grinned back and answered by grabbing me even harder around the body with his strong arms and kissing me again, a long, wet sloppy and delicious kiss.
“You catch on fast!” I said.
“I’m a fast learner!” he replied, suddenly renewed with confidence.
Sliding back down his body, I settled between his legs and began kissing and licking that sensitive area of the waist at the top of the thigh-bones. He began groaning and twitching; he wasn’t sure if he liked it or hated it – he just wanted me to keep doing it! I traced across his taught abs, woven with tiny soft hairs south from his navel and into his thick and luxuriant brown bush of pubic hair, before running my tongue along his voluminous manhood, now proudly erect and in my hands.
I licked and flicked at his circumcised head, and he twitched, gasping and moaning, as I finally closed my lips around its swollen form and ran my tongue around its rim, warmly enveloped within my mouth. The grunts and exclamations he now uttered had no form or known language but their meaning was clear; he loved it and he wasn’t the only one!
We rolled about in a number of positions, with me sucking him and tickling his testicles; and him thoroughly reveling in it. But I had to keep resting my jaw, he was so large; it was beginning to ache and juices were everywhere.
I told him to roll over onto his stomach and he willingly complied. His back was as hairless as his chest and just as tanned but here he had tiny freckles, scattered like poppy seeds, in a trail diagonally across his back; his own “Milky Way” of freckles. His bum; well, I could only admire it; round and perfectly formed, it was paler than the rest of his body and covered in the tiniest of baby-soft hairs.
I ran my finger-tips down the sides of his back, over his buttocks and down onto the back of his thighs to that sensitive spot behind the knees; then back again, following the same course, round and around I went, until, down the centre of his back I ran my fingers, down and down, and into that dark, sweaty cleft hidden between his soft, plump buttocks. My fingers barely touched or tickled the back of his balls, before darting-off over his thighs again.
Sliding down the bed, I now buried my face in my new prize; that hot, sweaty, manly zone that was his most private. As I parted his buttocks and darted my tongue around the opening of his arse, he gasped in surprise, shock even; he never expected that! I licked and kissed and wetted his arse, as he groaned into the pillow. And then as my tongue entered his hole, he let out a sort of suppressed squeal of surprise and began moaning and groaning deep into the pillow, gripping and grasping at it in ecstatic desperation.
I lay against his back, my own throbbing cock now fitting snuggly into the cleft of his bum, oozing and dribbling pre-cum against the back of his balls, as I put my arms under his shoulders, hugged him and kissed the back of his neck.
For a few moments, we rested in that position as we each caught our breath. He turned his head to one side and I heard him murmur, “I think I want you to fuck me.”
“Are you sure?” I said.
“Hmm,” he said, “Does it hurt – you know – the first time?”
I reassured him that I would take things slowly, as I pulled the pillows down under his body, lifting his rear and exposing his plump, round buns and his willing but nervous hole. Grabbing a condom from my shaving-bag, I quickly rolled it on and got back into position, smearing some lube with my own pre-cum, in and around his aching anus.
At first, I finger-fucked him gently. He gasped, as the first finger pushed inside to find his prostate. I felt it, slightly swollen with excitement. He groaned, more loudly this time. Then, kneeling between his spread thighs and exposed rear, I pressed my wet and slippery tool against its small target. I was suddenly reminded that I was de-flowering this young man, not much more than a youth, and I sensed his fear, his initial resistance. I pushed, gently at first and then more firmly, until my cock-head slipped past the first barrier. His sharp intake of breath was followed by a cry,
“No, stop!”
I held my position, gripping him firmly around the buttocks, and I tried to reassure him,
“It’s alright,” I said, “It’ll be ok if you just relax, breath deeply, through your mouth.”
He was shaking under me, resisting, but he did as I told him; he slowly relaxed, as I lay there on top of him, with the tip of my tool just inside his tender cavity.
My tool is only average, about 6 inches, so I figured it shouldn’t be too difficult for him to adjust. And I was right; I felt him relaxing, so I gently pushed on toward the next barrier. His insides felt warm, soft and comforting; I felt his thighs gripping the outside of my legs as my slender tool slid deeper into his interior.
“Oh God!” he exclaimed into the pillow, groaning and writhing against the bed, clutching at the pillow in pleasure and pain as I pushed beyond the next barrier, into his inner sanctum. I began to feel his own clenches from within his bowels as I established a slow, firm but gentle action, pushing fully into him and then slowly pulling almost all the way out, but not quite, then in again, back and forth, back and forth.
“Oh God!” he gasped again into the pillow, “I think I’m gonna cum,” he groaned in ecstasy.
I managed to reach one hand around and under his body, to grasp his swollen shaft but it was too dry and our combined weight prevented much movement.
As I kept pushing across the swollen hardness of his prostate. His entire body began to shake. It was all too much for me; my own cum was rising now and my action became more urgent, as I pushed faster, back and forth, in and out, until my cum seemed to explode from inside my balls in a shattering orgasm, down my shaft and into his young willingness, as I let out a great gasp of relief.
I collapsed on top of him, my organ already slipping from his hole, as his body relaxed under me. As I kissed the back of his neck, his hands found mine and he grasped them, squeezing them.
“Are you alright?” I asked him, as I quickly cleaned up the slightly unpleasant mess before he could see. He nodded, but then he murmured almost into the pillow,
“Was I supposed to cum too?” And I realized that he had been on the verge of cumming but hadn’t.
“I was so close,” he said, “but I just couldn’t.” Then, after a pause, he said those fateful words,
“Can I do it to you now?”
What could I say? I took another condom from my wash-bag and gave it to him.
“Do you know what to do with this?” I asked, and he nodded, guiltily.
I asked him to take it gently – he was young and it was his first time and I wasn’t sure how desperate he might be. As I lay on my front over the pillow, with one knee raised, he lubricated his organ and my aching anus, entering just a little at a time, pausing when I asked, allowing me to relax. He was a big lad and I wasn’t really prepared for this but, as he crashed painfully into my innards and began sliding smoothly in and out, rhythmically upwards and inwards, it was terrific to feel him inside me, laying against my back with his strong arms firmly clasped around me.
Then he began thrusting in earnest, almost withdrawing in-between his full, hard thrusts into me. In fact, he slipped out twice and he got flustered – he was nearing his climax. I calmed him as he entered again, encouraging him to continue, and he began thrusting again, desperately. As I felt his rhythm change, he thrust once or twice really hard into me as far as he could go and, reaching his climax, he grasped both my hands on the pillow and I was pinned to the bed. He held absolutely still and let out a stifled grunt, as I felt his huge organ pulsing high inside me. Then he began gasping for air and I felt him relax his frantic grip of me, as he just lay there on top of me, still inside me, throbbing slightly, his orgasm subsiding.
He was dripping with sweat. Exhausted, he slipped out of me and fell against my back again, sighing and breathing heavily. I sighed too – I have never had it so good! I thought he would want to leave now, his passion satisfied and overcome with guilt; but we lay together, caressing and stroking, hugging and kissing, rolling about in such a loving passion I had not felt in a long while. Occasionally, we would rest and lay still in each other’s arms, softly talking, only to return to the hugging and kissing with renewed vitality.
We must have rolled about kissing and embracing for some time until he finally asked if I had cum when he fucked me. I told him I hadn’t, although like him I had been pretty close. He was looking intently as my cock, erect once again from all this excitement, although not really ready yet for another orgasm! To my surprise, he climbed over in-between my legs and began passionately sucking my erect but tender tool and tickling my balls with his fingers.
Frankly, I was speechless; I wasn’t expecting any more than I had already experienced but I was ready for anything he was prepared to offer, and I was enjoying every precious moment.
He didn’t move up and down on me much; instead, he teased me so slowly that as I felt myself drawing towards a climax, the tension was agonizing in its pleasure. I began shaking what seemed like ages before I came but then I felt my fluids flowing on their way to the outside world. I clutched at his head, gasping for breath, and at the last moment, he pulled away and just knelt there holding my tool in his strong hand, stroking slightly. Agonisingly I came, pumping away, as my cum shot upwards and landed on his hand and on my stomach, dribbling down his hand and into my pubic hair, until I was fully spent.
“Wow!” was all he said.
Wow, indeed! He looked at me, knowingly, and I looked down to see his own organ, once again proudly engorged and twitching with excitement.
I shuffled down the bed and took the circumcised head of his newly discovered weapon into my mouth. He was too big for me to ‘deep throat’, and to be honest, I’m not that good at it. As a result, I nearly choked and he seemed genuinely concerned. I worked his tool around in my mouth, concentrating on the sensitive underside, tickling it with my tongue, as I felt his throbs and listened to his sighs and moans.
Then, as he knelt in front of me across my body, he legs began to shake and he began whimpering and screwing his eyes, as if in pain, and I felt his balls retract in my hand as his convulsions began. With a deep, hard gasp, he exploded into my mouth 3 or 4 times, great gushes of salty cum coursing through his organ and filling my mouth until, relaxing, throbbing and exhausted, he breathed heavily and I let him go. I swallowed all of his salty life-juice and we collapsed into each other’s arms, hugging.
Lloyd wasn’t his real name of course. But if he ever reads this, I hope he thinks it does justice to our story and that he does not regret or reproach himself for what he did. I hope too that, somehow, he finds a way of reconciling his beliefs with what he must now know is still a beautiful and loving way to enjoy what we were given. He’s got my e-mail address and my mobile telephone number anyway!
