The Sublime Cock

Sun•riser/2.

sublimecock:

20B:  I AM JOHN’S DICK…MEASURING UP

John had just fucked me in the ass for the first time a few minutes before - and had then very nearly seen (had he seen?) the incriminating message notifications on my phone as he handed it to me.

I opened the messages in the kitchen while John was in the bathroom. I could only hope he had to take a dump instead of just whizz… I checked Jack’s message first:

••••••••

Jack: IM SO FUCKIN HARD 4U…
but Im felng bad im nt comunic8ng well whn im tryin 2 fix sum shit 

u&i will b cool whtevr u & tex do, ok? 

Me:  no worries - it’s all good jack
bt cant talk now

Jack: NP - was just reading my surrender conv & it hit me that u cd read my tex cmts as a condition 4 the rest - not wht I meant @ all 

u do ur thing ur way, we’ll do our thing(s) whether u do tex or not

later bro

•••••••

I still hadn’t re-read my conversation with Jack but I could see that I was not going to get to do that, because I couldn’t risk John somehow reading it too.  I reluctantly deleted all of my texts to & from Jack, as I should have done earlier. And I continued to marvel at Jack’s timing - he sent helpful but unsolicited pointers on positions and cock size shortly before I surprised John by insisting that he fuck me;  and then after having pleaded with me at noon to let John fuck me so as not to fuck up his perfect setup for us (a connection I still did not understand), almost as soon as John had finished fucking me in the ass,  Jack was back telling me that his setup for me was not dependent on what John and I did. At the time Jack was urging me to let John fuck me that night, I had already decided to just that, but I had not told Jack that.

•••••••

#314xxx:   u wanna fuck me again
in the library? 

it’s Andrew btw

txt me back

[[No shit it was  Andrew. Who the hell else did that hot little ‘bellhop’ think I had been fucking in the library?? And how the fuck had he gotten my cell number? When I had offered to be a friend that he could talk to about shit I had intended to give him my number - but I’d never gotten around to doing that. I saved his number to my contacts.]]

Me:  Maybe, but cant talk tonite.

I hav 8am exam - shd b thru by 930 - lets talk then - meet me o/s library 

pls dont text back tonite

•••••••

I wiped out that little chat and was turning off my phone when John came looking for his beer. “Just Jack, encouraging me to put away my books and bend over for you,” I laughed. The thought of bending over then and there did have a certain appeal, though…

"You lay Jack’s concern to rest?" John asked as I handed him a beer.

"Nah, but I didn’t tease him either. You know I won’t be able to keep myself from telling him what a great fucker you are, and I hope you don’t mind too much that we share as much as we do,  but the news about how fucking happy I am and why is for another day. It’s still just ours, you know? I mean like what? I haven’t even caught my breath yet…look, my legs are still trembling." And they were.

But my stupid fucking cock was stirring at the thought of bending over and getting my ass plowed again…like right  then. My brain didn’t think that was a very good idea and my ass would have shrieked in alarm if it had known what my cock was thinking. 

John took a big chug of his beer. “Damn, that hits the spot,” he said. I matched his and we clinked bottles. “Cheers,” I said, “you sure earned it.”  “What about you? Are you ok?” John asked. “I mean, you know, is your—”

I laughed, “You mean how’s my asshole now that you’re through tearing it up? I’m fine, a little tender…but no big deal. Really.” I thought a second and added, “John, you were…perfect. I never imagined how that could be…”

I had wanted to ask John to describe what he had been thinking and feeling when I had put my knob in his hole…but I didn’t want to take away from his moment. Plus, I really was tired of talking about fucking. But then I started talking about fucking…again.

"Hypothetically speaking, I’m just…curious…could you fuck me again now…or in a few minutes…if you wanted to?"  I asked - but I had very nearly said ‘…if I needed you to?’  My cock barometer started to rise at the thought of bending over and being filled with John’s cock again…and by the sudden and unexpected flash through my brain of young Andrew bending over and me filling him up with me. I quickly pushed that intrusive but hung bellhop out of my mind. 

John took another swig of his beer and considered the question. “If you’re  asking me if I could get it up,” he said as he playfully took the head of my surprisingly perky dick between his thumb and index finger, “the answer is yes. But if you’re asking me if I think that’s a good idea - for you - I’d have to say it’s not.”  My cock cleared half mast and more as John gently squeezed and then sort of…”rolled” the head of my cock between his fingers. I’m not quite sure what he did, but that’s when I started thinking solely with hormones again. My ass was about to be toast…I hoped.

"Hypothetically speaking, if you WERE to, say, bend me over right here, could you - being only as gentle as you needed to be, not as gentle you can be - could you get off pretty quick…if that’s what I wanted?" I wondered where that fucking hormone-laden question had come from, as John’s hand slid softly down my mostly erect cock and cupped, then squeezed, my low hangers. His own fat dick was getting fatter, too, I noted, and I took his balls in my own hand as my breathing definitely changed.

"You mean," he asked, "could I get off in your sweet ass without overstaying my welcome?"

"Something like that," I mumbled as John dropped to his knees and started sucking my nuts."See…I’m thinking that by…tomorrow night my asshole is going to be just as tight as it used to be…ohhh…" I panted. That had been a finger slipping into my asshole. Which did not suck.  "…or almost as tight…but right fucking now…it’s…mmm….almost the right size…maybe…" and then I was on the  floor with John becoming a 6 to his 9. But not for very long.

"John…" I said as I pulled myself away from his cock, tonguing the rim of his portobello, just before detaching. I’m going to bend over the big cushy arm of that chair [pointing] while you find some lube…and then you’re going to fuck me as hard and fast as…um…present circumstances…allow, right?"

"Right." 

"And pay some attention to how deep your cock goes in…if you think about it…I wanna ask you to show me the high water mark on your dick when we’re done," I said as I started to bend over the chair.

 As hard and fast as present circumstances allowed was not all that hard or fast - but it was hard and fast in comparison to Round 1. John was able to penetrate and ‘engage’ much more quickly this time, spreading my ass wide with his hands and pushing the head in almost like it belonged there. I asked him to pause again when he gained “traction” and I savored that sick fucking mojo of craving ‘more more more.’ Then John fucked me as hard and fast as he gently could, and I kind of figured out when and how to push back - also gently.

"Oh fuck yeah" I all but screamed when he reached around me and squeezed my balls at the same time he thrust into what must have been his ‘high water mark.’ Boom! I shot my wad all over that overstuffed armchair with one good nut squeeze. I was still milking out the rest of my cum as John pushed in hard, wrapped both arms around me, and ejaculated, pulling back and pushing in just a liitle more with each spurt of cum…and then we both really were completely spent. That guy could fuck. He was a born top, with just enough bottom in him to make him a great top. Naturally, I would fuck that sweet deal up, and sooner than I had figured, but I couldn’t help myself. That’s later, though.

"Jesus, Joe," John said as he withdrew his still hard cock, "what got into you?"

I kind of yelped when the last of his cock pulled out, and then said, still panting, “Apparently a great…big…HUGE…fucking…cock… Show me how deep, ok?”

John laughed and made a loose fist, sliding it down just past his mushroom head. “The knob,” he said and slid his hand down maybe another inch. “That’s about where I paused both times…and where you went fucking wild both times,” he said, laughing.

"Gosh," I replied, "that’s what…maybe 3 inches? And there’s still so much more…" 

"Yeah, I’d say 2 and a half or 3…" then moving the ring made by just his thumb and index finger down a couple more inches, he said, "that’s about 5…probably as deep as I went the first time but…mostly I was at, say, 4," and he slid the circle back up an inch.  

"So…what you’re telling me…" I said, "is that you fucked the shit out of me with me just half your dick?"

"Not quite half,"  he laughed, and then moved  his fingers down a couple of more inches. "That looks like about 6…and I’d say that’s about as much as ever went in…about when you came." 

"Yeah, about then…Ok, now eep your fingers there," I said, as I slid my hand underneath his and measured with the gap between his fingers and the base of his cock. Holding up my thumb and index finger, and apprising the gap between them, I said, "That looks like about 3 inches to me…3 inches of your cock that never had the pleasure of my ass…" 

"Keep in mind," John interjected, "that I’m not as hard now as I was then, so…"

"So," I said, "even more than 3 inches hasn’t had the pleasure of my ass…yet." Then I measured the same distance from the tip of John’s cock and closed my fist around it there, and said, "And about the same amount of cock that it took to drive me fucking wild. 

"I thought you told me your cock is 8 inches hard…" I said as I did the math.

"I never said that," John smiled, "you did."

"No fucking wonder you’re so good at the department store game," I said, dredging up from nowhere what by then seemed liked ancient history.

"Killer," John replied.

"By the way, keeping in mind that my cock’s not quite as thick as yours," I continued, as I moved my hand up to about 2.5 inches below the end of John’s dick, "that’s about where I stopped during your knob test." I was enjoying holding John’s cock.

"Before or after?" John asked.

"Oh, before," I replied, "after you…uh asked me—"

"You can say ‘begged,’" John said.

I laughed and said, “That was NOT begging. I know because I’ve begged…so after you ‘asked urgently’ for me to push in deeper - and we agreed that my going deeper would not break my promise not to fuck you so long as—”

John was laughing now. “Joe, everybody knows that in/in/in is NOT fucking…while in/out/in very clearly IS fucking…”

"Let’s just say, then, that you came as close tonight to getting fucked in the ass as you can get without getting fucked in the ass. So the FIRST time you urgently asked for more, I parked my cock at about here," I continued, moving my hand down and giving his softening dick a couple of shakes. "About 4 inches of Joe up your ass. How’d that feel, big guy?"

"I’ll answer that, but first show me your final parking place," John said.

"About here," I said squeezing his dick tight enough to make it hard. "Maybe 5 inches."

"Alright, then 4 inches of Joe up my ass felt superb…but not nearly as good as 5 inches of Joe."

"Right…Joe is standing there with all but a couple inches of his poor little dick in your very tight ass, which by the way, was contracting, crushing  my cock like you’re some badass boa constrictor…which is why I had to pull out so fast…to keep from cumming in your ass - which most people would have confused with buttfucking."

"I see your point," John laughed. "But seriously?  Having your cock inside me made me feel like I wanted you to fuck my brains out."

"I would never say you’ve got the soul of a bottom…but you do have potential. And it’s a good thing you didn’t ask…" I said, "or I would have fucked you without further ado. As you found out just a few minutes later, I’ve basically torn up that rule book."

"God, what a surprise that was, what a wonderful fucking surprise…you don’t have any regrets do you?" John asked.

"I’ve got an 8 o’clock so I’m going to bed before I make you fuck me again.

sublimecock:

20B: I AM JOHN’S DICK…MEASURING UP

John had just fucked me in the ass for the first time a few minutes before - and had then very nearly seen (had he seen?) the incriminating message notifications on my phone as he handed it to me.

I opened the messages in the kitchen while John was in the bathroom. I could only hope he had to take a dump instead of just whizz… I checked Jack’s message first:

••••••••

Jack: IM SO FUCKIN HARD 4U…
but Im felng bad im nt comunic8ng well whn im tryin 2 fix sum shit

u&i will b cool whtevr u & tex do, ok?

Me: no worries - it’s all good jack
bt cant talk now

Jack: NP - was just reading my surrender conv & it hit me that u cd read my tex cmts as a condition 4 the rest - not wht I meant @ all

u do ur thing ur way, we’ll do our thing(s) whether u do tex or not

later bro

•••••••

I still hadn’t re-read my conversation with Jack but I could see that I was not going to get to do that, because I couldn’t risk John somehow reading it too. I reluctantly deleted all of my texts to & from Jack, as I should have done earlier. And I continued to marvel at Jack’s timing - he sent helpful but unsolicited pointers on positions and cock size shortly before I surprised John by insisting that he fuck me; and then after having pleaded with me at noon to let John fuck me so as not to fuck up his perfect setup for us (a connection I still did not understand), almost as soon as John had finished fucking me in the ass, Jack was back telling me that his setup for me was not dependent on what John and I did. At the time Jack was urging me to let John fuck me that night, I had already decided to just that, but I had not told Jack that.

•••••••

#314xxx: u wanna fuck me again
in the library?

it’s Andrew btw

txt me back

[[No shit it was Andrew. Who the hell else did that hot little ‘bellhop’ think I had been fucking in the library?? And how the fuck had he gotten my cell number? When I had offered to be a friend that he could talk to about shit I had intended to give him my number - but I’d never gotten around to doing that. I saved his number to my contacts.]]

Me: Maybe, but cant talk tonite.

I hav 8am exam - shd b thru by 930 - lets talk then - meet me o/s library

pls dont text back tonite

•••••••

I wiped out that little chat and was turning off my phone when John came looking for his beer. “Just Jack, encouraging me to put away my books and bend over for you,” I laughed. The thought of bending over then and there did have a certain appeal, though…

"You lay Jack’s concern to rest?" John asked as I handed him a beer.

"Nah, but I didn’t tease him either. You know I won’t be able to keep myself from telling him what a great fucker you are, and I hope you don’t mind too much that we share as much as we do, but the news about how fucking happy I am and why is for another day. It’s still just ours, you know? I mean like what? I haven’t even caught my breath yet…look, my legs are still trembling." And they were.

But my stupid fucking cock was stirring at the thought of bending over and getting my ass plowed again…like right then. My brain didn’t think that was a very good idea and my ass would have shrieked in alarm if it had known what my cock was thinking.

John took a big chug of his beer. “Damn, that hits the spot,” he said. I matched his and we clinked bottles. “Cheers,” I said, “you sure earned it.” “What about you? Are you ok?” John asked. “I mean, you know, is your—”

I laughed, “You mean how’s my asshole now that you’re through tearing it up? I’m fine, a little tender…but no big deal. Really.” I thought a second and added, “John, you were…perfect. I never imagined how that could be…”

I had wanted to ask John to describe what he had been thinking and feeling when I had put my knob in his hole…but I didn’t want to take away from his moment. Plus, I really was tired of talking about fucking. But then I started talking about fucking…again.

"Hypothetically speaking, I’m just…curious…could you fuck me again now…or in a few minutes…if you wanted to?" I asked - but I had very nearly said ‘…if I needed you to?’ My cock barometer started to rise at the thought of bending over and being filled with John’s cock again…and by the sudden and unexpected flash through my brain of young Andrew bending over and me filling him up with me. I quickly pushed that intrusive but hung bellhop out of my mind.

John took another swig of his beer and considered the question. “If you’re asking me if I could get it up,” he said as he playfully took the head of my surprisingly perky dick between his thumb and index finger, “the answer is yes. But if you’re asking me if I think that’s a good idea - for you - I’d have to say it’s not.” My cock cleared half mast and more as John gently squeezed and then sort of…”rolled” the head of my cock between his fingers. I’m not quite sure what he did, but that’s when I started thinking solely with hormones again. My ass was about to be toast…I hoped.

"Hypothetically speaking, if you WERE to, say, bend me over right here, could you - being only as gentle as you needed to be, not as gentle you can be - could you get off pretty quick…if that’s what I wanted?" I wondered where that fucking hormone-laden question had come from, as John’s hand slid softly down my mostly erect cock and cupped, then squeezed, my low hangers. His own fat dick was getting fatter, too, I noted, and I took his balls in my own hand as my breathing definitely changed.

"You mean," he asked, "could I get off in your sweet ass without overstaying my welcome?"

"Something like that," I mumbled as John dropped to his knees and started sucking my nuts."See…I’m thinking that by…tomorrow night my asshole is going to be just as tight as it used to be…ohhh…" I panted. That had been a finger slipping into my asshole. Which did not suck. "…or almost as tight…but right fucking now…it’s…mmm….almost the right size…maybe…" and then I was on the floor with John becoming a 6 to his 9. But not for very long.

"John…" I said as I pulled myself away from his cock, tonguing the rim of his portobello, just before detaching. I’m going to bend over the big cushy arm of that chair [pointing] while you find some lube…and then you’re going to fuck me as hard and fast as…um…present circumstances…allow, right?"

"Right."

"And pay some attention to how deep your cock goes in…if you think about it…I wanna ask you to show me the high water mark on your dick when we’re done," I said as I started to bend over the chair.

As hard and fast as present circumstances allowed was not all that hard or fast - but it was hard and fast in comparison to Round 1. John was able to penetrate and ‘engage’ much more quickly this time, spreading my ass wide with his hands and pushing the head in almost like it belonged there. I asked him to pause again when he gained “traction” and I savored that sick fucking mojo of craving ‘more more more.’ Then John fucked me as hard and fast as he gently could, and I kind of figured out when and how to push back - also gently.

"Oh fuck yeah" I all but screamed when he reached around me and squeezed my balls at the same time he thrust into what must have been his ‘high water mark.’ Boom! I shot my wad all over that overstuffed armchair with one good nut squeeze. I was still milking out the rest of my cum as John pushed in hard, wrapped both arms around me, and ejaculated, pulling back and pushing in just a liitle more with each spurt of cum…and then we both really were completely spent. That guy could fuck. He was a born top, with just enough bottom in him to make him a great top. Naturally, I would fuck that sweet deal up, and sooner than I had figured, but I couldn’t help myself. That’s later, though.

"Jesus, Joe," John said as he withdrew his still hard cock, "what got into you?"

I kind of yelped when the last of his cock pulled out, and then said, still panting, “Apparently a great…big…HUGE…fucking…cock… Show me how deep, ok?”

John laughed and made a loose fist, sliding it down just past his mushroom head. “The knob,” he said and slid his hand down maybe another inch. “That’s about where I paused both times…and where you went fucking wild both times,” he said, laughing.

"Gosh," I replied, "that’s what…maybe 3 inches? And there’s still so much more…"

"Yeah, I’d say 2 and a half or 3…" then moving the ring made by just his thumb and index finger down a couple more inches, he said, "that’s about 5…probably as deep as I went the first time but…mostly I was at, say, 4," and he slid the circle back up an inch.

"So…what you’re telling me…" I said, "is that you fucked the shit out of me with me just half your dick?"

"Not quite half," he laughed, and then moved his fingers down a couple of more inches. "That looks like about 6…and I’d say that’s about as much as ever went in…about when you came."

"Yeah, about then…Ok, now eep your fingers there," I said, as I slid my hand underneath his and measured with the gap between his fingers and the base of his cock. Holding up my thumb and index finger, and apprising the gap between them, I said, "That looks like about 3 inches to me…3 inches of your cock that never had the pleasure of my ass…"

"Keep in mind," John interjected, "that I’m not as hard now as I was then, so…"

"So," I said, "even more than 3 inches hasn’t had the pleasure of my ass…yet." Then I measured the same distance from the tip of John’s cock and closed my fist around it there, and said, "And about the same amount of cock that it took to drive me fucking wild.

"I thought you told me your cock is 8 inches hard…" I said as I did the math.

"I never said that," John smiled, "you did."

"No fucking wonder you’re so good at the department store game," I said, dredging up from nowhere what by then seemed liked ancient history.

"Killer," John replied.

"By the way, keeping in mind that my cock’s not quite as thick as yours," I continued, as I moved my hand up to about 2.5 inches below the end of John’s dick, "that’s about where I stopped during your knob test." I was enjoying holding John’s cock.

"Before or after?" John asked.

"Oh, before," I replied, "after you…uh asked me—"

"You can say ‘begged,’" John said.

I laughed and said, “That was NOT begging. I know because I’ve begged…so after you ‘asked urgently’ for me to push in deeper - and we agreed that my going deeper would not break my promise not to fuck you so long as—”

John was laughing now. “Joe, everybody knows that in/in/in is NOT fucking…while in/out/in very clearly IS fucking…”

"Let’s just say, then, that you came as close tonight to getting fucked in the ass as you can get without getting fucked in the ass. So the FIRST time you urgently asked for more, I parked my cock at about here," I continued, moving my hand down and giving his softening dick a couple of shakes. "About 4 inches of Joe up your ass. How’d that feel, big guy?"

"I’ll answer that, but first show me your final parking place," John said.

"About here," I said squeezing his dick tight enough to make it hard. "Maybe 5 inches."

"Alright, then 4 inches of Joe up my ass felt superb…but not nearly as good as 5 inches of Joe."

"Right…Joe is standing there with all but a couple inches of his poor little dick in your very tight ass, which by the way, was contracting, crushing my cock like you’re some badass boa constrictor…which is why I had to pull out so fast…to keep from cumming in your ass - which most people would have confused with buttfucking."

"I see your point," John laughed. "But seriously? Having your cock inside me made me feel like I wanted you to fuck my brains out."

"I would never say you’ve got the soul of a bottom…but you do have potential. And it’s a good thing you didn’t ask…" I said, "or I would have fucked you without further ado. As you found out just a few minutes later, I’ve basically torn up that rule book."

"God, what a surprise that was, what a wonderful fucking surprise…you don’t have any regrets do you?" John asked.

"I’ve got an 8 o’clock so I’m going to bed before I make you fuck me again.

How roommates fuck.

How roommates fuck.

Angler of Repose/16.

A River Runs Through It/166.

A River Runs Through It/166.

20B:  I AM JOHN’S DICK…MEASURING UP

John had just fucked me in the ass for the first time a few minutes before - and had then very nearly seen (had he seen?) the incriminating message notifications on my phone as he handed it to me.

I opened the messages in the kitchen while John was in the bathroom. I could only hope he had to take a dump instead of just whizz… I checked Jack’s message first:

••••••••

Jack: IM SO FUCKIN HARD 4U…
but Im felng bad im nt comunic8ng well whn im tryin 2 fix sum shit 

u&i will b cool whtevr u & tex do, ok? 

Me:  no worries - it’s all good jack
bt cant talk now

Jack: NP - was just reading my surrender conv & it hit me that u cd read my tex cmts as a condition 4 the rest - not wht I meant @ all 

u do ur thing ur way, we’ll do our thing(s) whether u do tex or not

later bro

•••••••

I still hadn’t re-read my conversation with Jack but I could see that I was not going to get to do that, because I couldn’t risk John somehow reading it too.  I reluctantly deleted all of my texts to & from Jack, as I should have done earlier. And I continued to marvel at Jack’s timing - he sent helpful but unsolicited pointers on positions and cock size shortly before I surprised John by insisting that he fuck me;  and then after having pleaded with me at noon to let John fuck me so as not to fuck up his perfect setup for us (a connection I still did not understand), almost as soon as John had finished fucking me in the ass,  Jack was back telling me that his setup for me was not dependent on what John and I did. At the time Jack was urging me to let John fuck me that night, I had already decided to just that, but I had not told Jack that.

•••••••

#314xxx:   u wanna fuck me again
in the library? 

it’s Andrew btw

txt me back

[[No shit it was  Andrew. Who the hell else did that hot little ‘bellhop’ think I had been fucking in the library?? And how the fuck had he gotten my cell number? When I had offered to be a friend that he could talk to about shit I had intended to give him my number - but I’d never gotten around to doing that. I saved his number to my contacts.]]

Me:  Maybe, but cant talk tonite.

I hav 8am exam - shd b thru by 930 - lets talk then - meet me o/s library 

pls dont text back tonite

•••••••

I wiped out that little chat and was turning off my phone when John came looking for his beer. “Just Jack, encouraging me to put away my books and bend over for you,” I laughed. The thought of bending over then and there did have a certain appeal, though…

"You lay Jack’s concern to rest?" John asked as I handed him a beer.

"Nah, but I didn’t tease him either. You know I won’t be able to keep myself from telling him what a great fucker you are, and I hope you don’t mind too much that we share as much as we do,  but the news about how fucking happy I am and why is for another day. It’s still just ours, you know? I mean like what? I haven’t even caught my breath yet…look, my legs are still trembling." And they were.

But my stupid fucking cock was stirring at the thought of bending over and getting my ass plowed again…like right  then. My brain didn’t think that was a very good idea and my ass would have shrieked in alarm if it had known what my cock was thinking. 

John took a big chug of his beer. “Damn, that hits the spot,” he said. I matched his and we clinked bottles. “Cheers,” I said, “you sure earned it.”  “What about you? Are you ok?” John asked. “I mean, you know, is your—”

I laughed, “You mean how’s my asshole now that you’re through tearing it up? I’m fine, a little tender…but no big deal. Really.” I thought a second and added, “John, you were…perfect. I never imagined how that could be…”

I had wanted to ask John to describe what he had been thinking and feeling when I had put my knob in his hole…but I didn’t want to take away from his moment. Plus, I really was tired of talking about fucking. But then I started talking about fucking…again.

"Hypothetically speaking, I’m just…curious…could you fuck me again now…or in a few minutes…if you wanted to?"  I asked - but I had very nearly said ‘…if I needed you to?’  My cock barometer started to rise at the thought of bending over and being filled with John’s cock again…and by the sudden and unexpected flash through my brain of young Andrew bending over and me filling him up with me. I quickly pushed that intrusive but hung bellhop out of my mind. 

John took another swig of his beer and considered the question. “If you’re  asking me if I could get it up,” he said as he playfully took the head of my surprisingly perky dick between his thumb and index finger, “the answer is yes. But if you’re asking me if I think that’s a good idea - for you - I’d have to say it’s not.”  My cock cleared half mast and more as John gently squeezed and then sort of…”rolled” the head of my cock between his fingers. I’m not quite sure what he did, but that’s when I started thinking solely with hormones again. My ass was about to be toast…I hoped.

"Hypothetically speaking, if you WERE to, say, bend me over right here, could you - being only as gentle as you needed to be, not as gentle you can be - could you get off pretty quick…if that’s what I wanted?" I wondered where that fucking hormone-laden question had come from, as John’s hand slid softly down my mostly erect cock and cupped, then squeezed, my low hangers. His own fat dick was getting fatter, too, I noted, and I took his balls in my own hand as my breathing definitely changed.

"You mean," he asked, "could I get off in your sweet ass without overstaying my welcome?"

"Something like that," I mumbled as John dropped to his knees and started sucking my nuts."See…I’m thinking that by…tomorrow night my asshole is going to be just as tight as it used to be…ohhh…" I panted. That had been a finger slipping into my asshole. Which did not suck.  "…or almost as tight…but right fucking now…it’s…mmm….almost the right size…maybe…" and then I was on the  floor with John becoming a 6 to his 9. But not for very long.

"John…" I said as I pulled myself away from his cock, tonguing the rim of his portobello, just before detaching. I’m going to bend over the big cushy arm of that chair [pointing] while you find some lube…and then you’re going to fuck me as hard and fast as…um…present circumstances…allow, right?"

"Right." 

"And pay some attention to how deep your cock goes in…if you think about it…I wanna ask you to show me the high water mark on your dick when we’re done," I said as I started to bend over the chair.

 As hard and fast as present circumstances allowed was not all that hard or fast - but it was hard and fast in comparison to Round 1. John was able to penetrate and ‘engage’ much more quickly this time, spreading my ass wide with his hands and pushing the head in almost like it belonged there. I asked him to pause again when he gained “traction” and I savored that sick fucking mojo of craving ‘more more more.’ Then John fucked me as hard and fast as he gently could, and I kind of figured out when and how to push back - also gently.

"Oh fuck yeah" I all but screamed when he reached around me and squeezed my balls at the same time he thrust into what must have been his ‘high water mark.’ Boom! I shot my wad all over that overstuffed armchair with one good nut squeeze. I was still milking out the rest of my cum as John pushed in hard, wrapped both arms around me, and ejaculated, pulling back and pushing in just a liitle more with each spurt of cum…and then we both really were completely spent. That guy could fuck. He was a born top, with just enough bottom in him to make him a great top. Naturally, I would fuck that sweet deal up, and sooner than I had figured, but I couldn’t help myself. That’s later, though.

"Jesus, Joe," John said as he withdrew his still hard cock, "what got into you?"

I kind of yelped when the last of his cock pulled out, and then said, still panting, “Apparently a great…big…HUGE…fucking…cock… Show me how deep, ok?”

John laughed and made a loose fist, sliding it down just past his mushroom head. “The knob,” he said and slid his hand down maybe another inch. “That’s about where I paused both times…and where you went fucking wild both times,” he said, laughing.

"Gosh," I replied, "that’s what…maybe 3 inches? And there’s still so much more…" 

"Yeah, I’d say 2 and a half or 3…" then moving the ring made by just his thumb and index finger down a couple more inches, he said, "that’s about 5…probably as deep as I went the first time but…mostly I was at, say, 4," and he slid the circle back up an inch.  

"So…what you’re telling me…" I said, "is that you fucked the shit out of me with me just half your dick?"

"Not quite half,"  he laughed, and then moved  his fingers down a couple of more inches. "That looks like about 6…and I’d say that’s about as much as ever went in…about when you came." 

"Yeah, about then…Ok, now keep your fingers there," I said, as I slid my hand underneath his and measured with the gap between his fingers and the base of his cock. Holding up my thumb and index finger, and apprising the gap between them, I said, "That looks like about 3 inches to me…3 inches of your cock that never had the pleasure of my ass…" 

"Keep in mind," John interjected, "that I’m not as hard now as I was then, so…"

"So," I said, "even more than 3 inches hasn’t had the pleasure of my ass…yet." Then I measured the same distance from the tip of John’s cock and closed my fist around it there, and said, "And about the same amount of cock that it took to drive me fucking wild. 

"I thought you told me your cock is 8 inches hard…" I said as I did the math.

"I never said that," John smiled, "you did."

"No fucking wonder you’re so good at the department store game," I said, dredging up from nowhere what by then seemed liked ancient history.

"Killer," John replied.

"By the way, keeping in mind that my cock’s not quite as thick as yours," I continued, as I moved my hand up to about 2.5 inches below the end of John’s dick, "that’s about where I stopped during your knob test." I was enjoying holding John’s cock.

"Before or after?" John asked.

"Oh, before," I replied, "after you…uh asked me—"

"You can say ‘begged,’" John said.

I laughed and said, “That was NOT begging. I know because I’ve begged…so after you ‘asked urgently’ for me to push in deeper - and we agreed that my going deeper would not break my promise not to fuck you so long as—”

John was laughing now. “Joe, everybody knows that in/in/in is NOT fucking…while in/out/in very clearly IS fucking…”

"Let’s just say, then, that you came as close tonight to getting fucked in the ass as you can get without getting fucked in the ass. So the FIRST time you urgently asked for more, I parked my cock at about here," I continued, moving my hand down and giving his softening dick a couple of shakes. "About 4 inches of Joe up your ass. How’d that feel, big guy?"

"I’ll answer that, but first show me your final parking place," John said.

"About here," I said squeezing his dick tight enough to make it hard. "Maybe 5 inches."

"Alright, then 4 inches of Joe up my ass felt superb…but not nearly as good as 5 inches of Joe."

"Right…Joe is standing there with all but a couple inches of his poor little dick in your very tight ass, which by the way, was contracting, crushing  my cock like you’re some badass boa constrictor…which is why I had to pull out so fast…to keep from cumming in your ass - which most people would have confused with buttfucking."

"I see your point," John laughed. "But seriously?  Having your cock inside me made me feel like I wanted you to fuck my brains out."

"I would never say you’ve got the soul of a bottom…but you do have potential. And it’s a good thing you didn’t ask…" I said, "or I would have fucked you without further ado. As you found out just a few minutes later, I’ve basically torn up that rule book."

"God, what a surprise that was, what a wonderful fucking surprise…you don’t have any regrets do you?" John asked.

"I’ve got an 8 o’clock so I’m going to bed before I make you fuck me again."

20B: I AM JOHN’S DICK…MEASURING UP

John had just fucked me in the ass for the first time a few minutes before - and had then very nearly seen (had he seen?) the incriminating message notifications on my phone as he handed it to me.

I opened the messages in the kitchen while John was in the bathroom. I could only hope he had to take a dump instead of just whizz… I checked Jack’s message first:

••••••••

Jack: IM SO FUCKIN HARD 4U…
but Im felng bad im nt comunic8ng well whn im tryin 2 fix sum shit

u&i will b cool whtevr u & tex do, ok?

Me: no worries - it’s all good jack
bt cant talk now

Jack: NP - was just reading my surrender conv & it hit me that u cd read my tex cmts as a condition 4 the rest - not wht I meant @ all

u do ur thing ur way, we’ll do our thing(s) whether u do tex or not

later bro

•••••••

I still hadn’t re-read my conversation with Jack but I could see that I was not going to get to do that, because I couldn’t risk John somehow reading it too. I reluctantly deleted all of my texts to & from Jack, as I should have done earlier. And I continued to marvel at Jack’s timing - he sent helpful but unsolicited pointers on positions and cock size shortly before I surprised John by insisting that he fuck me; and then after having pleaded with me at noon to let John fuck me so as not to fuck up his perfect setup for us (a connection I still did not understand), almost as soon as John had finished fucking me in the ass, Jack was back telling me that his setup for me was not dependent on what John and I did. At the time Jack was urging me to let John fuck me that night, I had already decided to just that, but I had not told Jack that.

•••••••

#314xxx: u wanna fuck me again
in the library?

it’s Andrew btw

txt me back

[[No shit it was Andrew. Who the hell else did that hot little ‘bellhop’ think I had been fucking in the library?? And how the fuck had he gotten my cell number? When I had offered to be a friend that he could talk to about shit I had intended to give him my number - but I’d never gotten around to doing that. I saved his number to my contacts.]]

Me: Maybe, but cant talk tonite.

I hav 8am exam - shd b thru by 930 - lets talk then - meet me o/s library

pls dont text back tonite

•••••••

I wiped out that little chat and was turning off my phone when John came looking for his beer. “Just Jack, encouraging me to put away my books and bend over for you,” I laughed. The thought of bending over then and there did have a certain appeal, though…

"You lay Jack’s concern to rest?" John asked as I handed him a beer.

"Nah, but I didn’t tease him either. You know I won’t be able to keep myself from telling him what a great fucker you are, and I hope you don’t mind too much that we share as much as we do, but the news about how fucking happy I am and why is for another day. It’s still just ours, you know? I mean like what? I haven’t even caught my breath yet…look, my legs are still trembling." And they were.

But my stupid fucking cock was stirring at the thought of bending over and getting my ass plowed again…like right then. My brain didn’t think that was a very good idea and my ass would have shrieked in alarm if it had known what my cock was thinking.

John took a big chug of his beer. “Damn, that hits the spot,” he said. I matched his and we clinked bottles. “Cheers,” I said, “you sure earned it.” “What about you? Are you ok?” John asked. “I mean, you know, is your—”

I laughed, “You mean how’s my asshole now that you’re through tearing it up? I’m fine, a little tender…but no big deal. Really.” I thought a second and added, “John, you were…perfect. I never imagined how that could be…”

I had wanted to ask John to describe what he had been thinking and feeling when I had put my knob in his hole…but I didn’t want to take away from his moment. Plus, I really was tired of talking about fucking. But then I started talking about fucking…again.

"Hypothetically speaking, I’m just…curious…could you fuck me again now…or in a few minutes…if you wanted to?" I asked - but I had very nearly said ‘…if I needed you to?’ My cock barometer started to rise at the thought of bending over and being filled with John’s cock again…and by the sudden and unexpected flash through my brain of young Andrew bending over and me filling him up with me. I quickly pushed that intrusive but hung bellhop out of my mind.

John took another swig of his beer and considered the question. “If you’re asking me if I could get it up,” he said as he playfully took the head of my surprisingly perky dick between his thumb and index finger, “the answer is yes. But if you’re asking me if I think that’s a good idea - for you - I’d have to say it’s not.” My cock cleared half mast and more as John gently squeezed and then sort of…”rolled” the head of my cock between his fingers. I’m not quite sure what he did, but that’s when I started thinking solely with hormones again. My ass was about to be toast…I hoped.

"Hypothetically speaking, if you WERE to, say, bend me over right here, could you - being only as gentle as you needed to be, not as gentle you can be - could you get off pretty quick…if that’s what I wanted?" I wondered where that fucking hormone-laden question had come from, as John’s hand slid softly down my mostly erect cock and cupped, then squeezed, my low hangers. His own fat dick was getting fatter, too, I noted, and I took his balls in my own hand as my breathing definitely changed.

"You mean," he asked, "could I get off in your sweet ass without overstaying my welcome?"

"Something like that," I mumbled as John dropped to his knees and started sucking my nuts."See…I’m thinking that by…tomorrow night my asshole is going to be just as tight as it used to be…ohhh…" I panted. That had been a finger slipping into my asshole. Which did not suck. "…or almost as tight…but right fucking now…it’s…mmm….almost the right size…maybe…" and then I was on the floor with John becoming a 6 to his 9. But not for very long.

"John…" I said as I pulled myself away from his cock, tonguing the rim of his portobello, just before detaching. I’m going to bend over the big cushy arm of that chair [pointing] while you find some lube…and then you’re going to fuck me as hard and fast as…um…present circumstances…allow, right?"

"Right."

"And pay some attention to how deep your cock goes in…if you think about it…I wanna ask you to show me the high water mark on your dick when we’re done," I said as I started to bend over the chair.

As hard and fast as present circumstances allowed was not all that hard or fast - but it was hard and fast in comparison to Round 1. John was able to penetrate and ‘engage’ much more quickly this time, spreading my ass wide with his hands and pushing the head in almost like it belonged there. I asked him to pause again when he gained “traction” and I savored that sick fucking mojo of craving ‘more more more.’ Then John fucked me as hard and fast as he gently could, and I kind of figured out when and how to push back - also gently.

"Oh fuck yeah" I all but screamed when he reached around me and squeezed my balls at the same time he thrust into what must have been his ‘high water mark.’ Boom! I shot my wad all over that overstuffed armchair with one good nut squeeze. I was still milking out the rest of my cum as John pushed in hard, wrapped both arms around me, and ejaculated, pulling back and pushing in just a liitle more with each spurt of cum…and then we both really were completely spent. That guy could fuck. He was a born top, with just enough bottom in him to make him a great top. Naturally, I would fuck that sweet deal up, and sooner than I had figured, but I couldn’t help myself. That’s later, though.

"Jesus, Joe," John said as he withdrew his still hard cock, "what got into you?"

I kind of yelped when the last of his cock pulled out, and then said, still panting, “Apparently a great…big…HUGE…fucking…cock… Show me how deep, ok?”

John laughed and made a loose fist, sliding it down just past his mushroom head. “The knob,” he said and slid his hand down maybe another inch. “That’s about where I paused both times…and where you went fucking wild both times,” he said, laughing.

"Gosh," I replied, "that’s what…maybe 3 inches? And there’s still so much more…"

"Yeah, I’d say 2 and a half or 3…" then moving the ring made by just his thumb and index finger down a couple more inches, he said, "that’s about 5…probably as deep as I went the first time but…mostly I was at, say, 4," and he slid the circle back up an inch.

"So…what you’re telling me…" I said, "is that you fucked the shit out of me with me just half your dick?"

"Not quite half," he laughed, and then moved his fingers down a couple of more inches. "That looks like about 6…and I’d say that’s about as much as ever went in…about when you came."

"Yeah, about then…Ok, now keep your fingers there," I said, as I slid my hand underneath his and measured with the gap between his fingers and the base of his cock. Holding up my thumb and index finger, and apprising the gap between them, I said, "That looks like about 3 inches to me…3 inches of your cock that never had the pleasure of my ass…"

"Keep in mind," John interjected, "that I’m not as hard now as I was then, so…"

"So," I said, "even more than 3 inches hasn’t had the pleasure of my ass…yet." Then I measured the same distance from the tip of John’s cock and closed my fist around it there, and said, "And about the same amount of cock that it took to drive me fucking wild.

"I thought you told me your cock is 8 inches hard…" I said as I did the math.

"I never said that," John smiled, "you did."

"No fucking wonder you’re so good at the department store game," I said, dredging up from nowhere what by then seemed liked ancient history.

"Killer," John replied.

"By the way, keeping in mind that my cock’s not quite as thick as yours," I continued, as I moved my hand up to about 2.5 inches below the end of John’s dick, "that’s about where I stopped during your knob test." I was enjoying holding John’s cock.

"Before or after?" John asked.

"Oh, before," I replied, "after you…uh asked me—"

"You can say ‘begged,’" John said.

I laughed and said, “That was NOT begging. I know because I’ve begged…so after you ‘asked urgently’ for me to push in deeper - and we agreed that my going deeper would not break my promise not to fuck you so long as—”

John was laughing now. “Joe, everybody knows that in/in/in is NOT fucking…while in/out/in very clearly IS fucking…”

"Let’s just say, then, that you came as close tonight to getting fucked in the ass as you can get without getting fucked in the ass. So the FIRST time you urgently asked for more, I parked my cock at about here," I continued, moving my hand down and giving his softening dick a couple of shakes. "About 4 inches of Joe up your ass. How’d that feel, big guy?"

"I’ll answer that, but first show me your final parking place," John said.

"About here," I said squeezing his dick tight enough to make it hard. "Maybe 5 inches."

"Alright, then 4 inches of Joe up my ass felt superb…but not nearly as good as 5 inches of Joe."

"Right…Joe is standing there with all but a couple inches of his poor little dick in your very tight ass, which by the way, was contracting, crushing my cock like you’re some badass boa constrictor…which is why I had to pull out so fast…to keep from cumming in your ass - which most people would have confused with buttfucking."

"I see your point," John laughed. "But seriously? Having your cock inside me made me feel like I wanted you to fuck my brains out."

"I would never say you’ve got the soul of a bottom…but you do have potential. And it’s a good thing you didn’t ask…" I said, "or I would have fucked you without further ado. As you found out just a few minutes later, I’ve basically torn up that rule book."

"God, what a surprise that was, what a wonderful fucking surprise…you don’t have any regrets do you?" John asked.

"I’ve got an 8 o’clock so I’m going to bed before I make you fuck me again."

Breaking in the roommate/5.

Breaking in the roommate/5.

"Are we fucking yet?"

"Are we fucking yet?"

Breaking in the roommate/4.

Breaking in the roommate/4.

20A:  I AM JOHN’S KNOB IN JOE’S HOLE

•••••••••8:08 p.m.

Jack:  FYI - n case u dcide 2 take care of tex - 4  beginner any postn that pulls ur knees tord ur chest is usually the ‘most comfortable’ (easier to get a big dick up ur ass) - like when we playd knob, u on ur back w/ knees to chest, tex can stand if bed hi enuf (no tables yet) or he can mount u on bed (or floor)  »

Jack:  »  or u on knees on bed/couch/floor, ass up, head & chest tucked; or u bent ovr sumthng comfy (dont grab ur ankles just yet); or u on ur side on bed/floor, knees pulled tord chest - all 4 postns r esentialy  same frm anatomical p.o.v.
 »

Jack: & rmbr he duznt have 2 & shdnt try 2 go balls deep - so quit thinkng abt takng all 8”  1st time (looked more like 10 to me anyway but…)   »

gets easier each time & he’ll b poling u w/ all of it soon enuf so he just needs to b patient ok  

Jack:  what am I saying?? - YOU be patient!!  

& dont ask 4 more than u can handle - u’ll  want it all u bitch so b4 tex bends u ovr tell him to ignore u whn u beg 4 a footlong

have a nice day!

••••••••

'That guy has a wire tap on my brain,' I thought, clicking my phone off and locking it just before John came back into the room…and resumed rimming my a•hole - after having had  to attend to his own sudden lower GI emergency, presumably induced by having had about half of my cock up his ass a few minutes earlier.

I was more than primed for the next scripted knob-in-the-hole step, but let John refocus on what was what by tonguing my hole for a couple of minutes. “Can you do that with your cock in my mouth?” I half-whispered? He could. 

As much as I love a cock in my mouth, my priority was in returning John to full hard ASAP. I wanted that knob in my hole, plain and simple. John lay down on the bed and I got on top of him, lowering my ass toward his face as I leaned forward and took his big semi-hard cock into my mouth. Fuck, but that was…goooddd.  I had never tried that particular version of 69 before, and I wondered sort of vaguely if we had just stumbled upon my real ‘thrill’ - simultaneously having a tongue in my hole and a dick in my mouth. 

We were both hard again soon, and I wasn’t going to get any readier for John’s big mushroom knob in my hole. “It’s time,” I said as I rolled off John and scrunched over to position my ass on the edge of our bed. John was standing between my legs as I pulled my knees back toward my chest, spread wide. I closed my eyes and felt a lubed finger enter me, then a second finger, and John deftly massaged and stretched out the inside of my hole. “Cock, please,” I said as I opened my eyes and smiled at him. “I do love you, Tex,” I said, winking at him. “Now,” I said, sensing some hesitation, maybe nervousness,  in John, “you just relax - I’m good, ok?” He gave me a little nod and a little smile.

John tickled my asshole with the flared head of his dick and I moaned involuntarily. My anticipation was as thick and rich as a chocolate no-flour cake. This little ‘game’ did not suck at all. ‘Condom?’ John asked. “No thanks, nothing between us, ok?”

John lubed his cock, or part of it anyway, and pressed its head gently against my back door, holding my hard cock in his other hand. “Joe, I prom—” he started to say.

"Wait, John," I interrupted him before he could repeat the same promise I had made to him a short while before. "You don’t have anything left to prove to me about trust. Nothing."

"But…" John tried to say.

"No," I interrupted, "it’s my turn to show you how much I trust you…and you need to trust that I know what I’m doing."

"But, Joe…" he started again.  I wasn’t sure if he had quite gotten it yet.

"John, it’s my game and I’m changing the rules. Don’t make a promise I don’t want you to keep."

John kissed me and I felt his cock press more insistently against me. “Joe, I—”

"Shhh," I said, "I don’t want to TALK about fucking anymore…"

John laughed and said, “Yeah, I got that…I just wanted to say…I love you.”

"I know that," I said, "or you wouldn’t be standing where you are…now let me help you in…" I took his cock in one hand and added, "you can let go of mine…for a minute." John tried to spread my cheeks further apart with one hand while keeping the other on his cock (and my hand) as he pressed forward.

"John, use both hands to spread my cheeks, ok?…then push…slowly…with your ass…I’m guiding you…"

"But pushing with my body is called ‘fucking,’" he quoted Jack and we both laughed.

"Yeah, I got that," I said as the head of his cock just barely entered my hole. "Ok, push in a little more or it’s not going to hold inside." I took a deep breath as I felt his full head enter me. His mushroom felt like a portobello inside me, and my sphincter tightened around it. "Good…now a little deeper…then stop…" and I grunted as I felt his thicker shaft begin to follow the head. 

"A little more…now…slow… please…
oh fuck…there…traction…” and whatever it was that had clicked when Jack had had about 3” of his cock inside me clicked again, in the same very good way.

"Oh fuck yeah…that’s it…can you just stay right there…just a minute…more…" I said as that same familiar cock-hunger coursed through me - a fierce desire to be filled all the way up with cock, to surrender everything to John…as if my body knew that if that cock were just a few inches deeper it would complete me…and I badly needed to be completed…I remember squirming, inching back closer to John, trying to bring him deeper inside.

"Oh fuck…that’s so…good…" I took a deep breath and tried to focus on saying one last rational thing, but instead what came out of my mouth was the same silly question that had almost simultaneously popped into my head. "Are we fucking yet?" I asked giddily, and started laughing.

My unexpected levity clearly caught John by surprise and he laughed so hard he nearly lost traction, his cock slipping back (but not out). He pushed forward, reclaiming lost territory and maybe a smidgin more.
“Now we are,” he said, and we both started laughing again.

I’ve often thought that that most unscripted of moments may have been just the thing we needed to bring what had begun (for John, at least, who had believed only moments before he penetrated me that ‘no matter what’ he would NOT be fucking me that night) as more of a mental than a physical exercise, back down to the trenches of good old earthy lust where it belonged. For sure John visibly relaxed - and he was about to become one superb fucker. Probably he would have fucked my lights out anyway, but who can say?

Still, I had to give that one last bit of instruction, pass along that last rational thought I had been reaching for a moment earlier, before I could surrender:  “I’m through talking about fucking now…just go slow, stop, wait,  if I ask..and…remember…you don’t have to use your whole HUGE cock…this time…no matter how much I want it all…oh god please just fuck me…now…”

That was at least a semi-rational thought. John again started very slowly, withdrawing a little, pushing in a little further, slowly working that big cobra cock in and out and deeper and deeper. And I stopped telling him  how to fuck me in the ass because he knew exactly how to do that:  he fucked me as gently and as tenderly and as passionately as I know he would’ve liked to have been fucked if our positions had been reversed. 

Mostly I just made a lot of noise, I think, guttural animal noises, rooftop yawps, and grunted single words like ‘harder’ ‘faster’ ‘deeper’ ‘slower’ ‘easy’ ‘more’ ‘stop’ ‘go,’ occasionally adding a personal pronoun:  ‘fuck me fuck me fuck me…’

I have no idea how long we actually fucked but it seemed like a long fucking time (in a very good way) to me. The “fucking itself” (post-laughter) may not have not lasted as long as the penetration and oh-so-slow gaining of traction and creeping forward - the actual elapsed time is of no consequence, but the exquisite patience my partner showed was paramount. 

I know I came very quickly after the in/out began in earnest, long before John finally collapsed on me, thrusting and shuddering, as he pumped what seemed like about a quart of semen deep into me. From the time John’s cock had ‘engaged’ inside me - where it could hold without being expelled by my contracting sphincter - and I had experienced that sublime ‘click, ’ I had felt on the verge of orgasm but the fucking alone couldn’t quite get me over the top. At some point before John put my ankles (sprain and all) on or against (not really clear about where my feet ended up but I know my legs were up in the air) I started stroking my cock, and  it only took a handful of strokes to make me blow my load.

And, yes, getting fucked in the ass hurt like a motherfucker. But the funny thing was that getting fucked in the ass that first time never hurt so much that I had ever wanted the fucking to stop. I had never before experienced an intimacy that remotely approached the incredibly, viscerally intimate feeling of John’s cock being as deep in my ass as his was (as deep as was prudent for that first time). Getting fucked in the ass the second time hurt just as much as the first time, but it felt even better. Getting fucked in the ass the third time hurt less and felt better still. Getting fucked in the ass the fourth time was the most intimate yet, and I don’t recall any pain.

I liked having my legs up against John’s chest because it brought “him” 
even closer to “me” - what I wanted was to feel his lower abdomen pressed as closely up against my ass cheeks as possible, and I have no doubt I ‘encouraged’ him to bury every bit of his dick as deeply inside me as he could. The fact that I didn’t get that particular wish that night was, of course, a good thing, and further proof that my trust in John was very well-placed. It was somewhere during that time when my legs were up against John’s chest/shoulders, I guess just before before he came, that he said something like ‘I’m about to cum…should I—”

"Cum inside me…don’t stop…faster…" Maybe not my best decision ever, but that decision wasn’t made in the heat of passion, rather I made it in the comfort of the Crown Candy Kitchen. It felt right then and I never regretted that attempt to convey my total trust in John.

Buttfucking can be a messy business, of course. For example, I would’ve preferred to have had the small pre-fuck enema I had penciled in when I first scheduled my inaugural assfucking to occur in Mississippi the next week, but that wasn’t in the cards once I advanced the grand opening. Another thing is that an erect penis works as a very efficient plunger to force air into the bowels of the guy getting fucked in the ass. And all that in/out ‘irritation’ or ‘stimulation’ loosens the bowels - that’s just a fact. No further details are necessary, but it wasn’t long at all after John collapsed on top of me, drenched in sweat, that I had to be excused.

I was just limping (and for more than one reason) back into the bedroom when I heard the distinctive ping that let me know Jack was still thinking about me. ‘Not fucking now,’ was my immediate thought, until my brain registered that John, who was on my side of the bed, was reaching for my phone; a millisecond later my brain remembered that the dumbass owner of the phone had not yet cleared a certain conversation…which instantly converted my initial thought into ‘NOT FUCKING NOW!’ as John’s hand closed around my phone and automatically turned it over so his eyes could see the screen (and 1st line of any text message) even as his arm extended the phone in my direction - all in slow fucking motion. 

I didn’t even have time to consider lunging for the phone before my hand was closing around it. “Thanks, man, probably just another ice alert, though…” I said, demonstrably NOT looking at my phone’s backstabbing screen (I knew it without looking - Jack had just fucked me in the ass, too).

"Maybe so," John said drowsily as he started to get out of bed, "but it sounded to me like your tone for Jack…" John was plainly headed to the head, but he made a sudden detour, veering over to where I was standing holding my phone of shame, which, I was sure, was even then burning a scarlet "A" into my hand…
John’s hand cupped my nearest ass cheek in his hand as he kissed me deeply. “In my wildest fucking dreams, Joe, I never imagined we’d connect like that…wow…did you feel something too?”  

I didn’t lie when I replied, “fucking blew me away, man, you devastated me…in the best possible way…”

"Beers?" I asked John’s back.

"Definitely dude." 

I limped into the kitchen as fast as I could, snatched two IPAs out of the fridge and set them on the counter, and looked at my phone’s screen before opening, so I would know the worst of what might have been visible to John…

…which was fucking terrible! What the fuck had I done to deserve this shit sandwich…one slice from Jack…and another from #314xxx

•••••••10:38 pm

Jack: IM SO FUCKIN HARD 4U…

[+ PHOTO]

•••••••9:05 pm

314xxx:  u wanna fuck me again…

20A: I AM JOHN’S KNOB IN JOE’S HOLE

•••••••••8:08 p.m.

Jack: FYI - n case u dcide 2 take care of tex - 4 beginner any postn that pulls ur knees tord ur chest is usually the ‘most comfortable’ (easier to get a big dick up ur ass) - like when we playd knob, u on ur back w/ knees to chest, tex can stand if bed hi enuf (no tables yet) or he can mount u on bed (or floor)  »

Jack:  » or u on knees on bed/couch/floor, ass up, head & chest tucked; or u bent ovr sumthng comfy (dont grab ur ankles just yet); or u on ur side on bed/floor, knees pulled tord chest - all 4 postns r esentialy same frm anatomical p.o.v.
 »

Jack: & rmbr he duznt have 2 & shdnt try 2 go balls deep - so quit thinkng abt takng all 8” 1st time (looked more like 10 to me anyway but…)  »

gets easier each time & he’ll b poling u w/ all of it soon enuf so he just needs to b patient ok

Jack: what am I saying?? - YOU be patient!!

& dont ask 4 more than u can handle - u’ll want it all u bitch so b4 tex bends u ovr tell him to ignore u whn u beg 4 a footlong

have a nice day!

••••••••

'That guy has a wire tap on my brain,' I thought, clicking my phone off and locking it just before John came back into the room…and resumed rimming my a•hole - after having had to attend to his own sudden lower GI emergency, presumably induced by having had about half of my cock up his ass a few minutes earlier.

I was more than primed for the next scripted knob-in-the-hole step, but let John refocus on what was what by tonguing my hole for a couple of minutes. “Can you do that with your cock in my mouth?” I half-whispered? He could.

As much as I love a cock in my mouth, my priority was in returning John to full hard ASAP. I wanted that knob in my hole, plain and simple. John lay down on the bed and I got on top of him, lowering my ass toward his face as I leaned forward and took his big semi-hard cock into my mouth. Fuck, but that was…goooddd. I had never tried that particular version of 69 before, and I wondered sort of vaguely if we had just stumbled upon my real ‘thrill’ - simultaneously having a tongue in my hole and a dick in my mouth.

We were both hard again soon, and I wasn’t going to get any readier for John’s big mushroom knob in my hole. “It’s time,” I said as I rolled off John and scrunched over to position my ass on the edge of our bed. John was standing between my legs as I pulled my knees back toward my chest, spread wide. I closed my eyes and felt a lubed finger enter me, then a second finger, and John deftly massaged and stretched out the inside of my hole. “Cock, please,” I said as I opened my eyes and smiled at him. “I do love you, Tex,” I said, winking at him. “Now,” I said, sensing some hesitation, maybe nervousness, in John, “you just relax - I’m good, ok?” He gave me a little nod and a little smile.

John tickled my asshole with the flared head of his dick and I moaned involuntarily. My anticipation was as thick and rich as a chocolate no-flour cake. This little ‘game’ did not suck at all. ‘Condom?’ John asked. “No thanks, nothing between us, ok?”

John lubed his cock, or part of it anyway, and pressed its head gently against my back door, holding my hard cock in his other hand. “Joe, I prom—” he started to say.

"Wait, John," I interrupted him before he could repeat the same promise I had made to him a short while before. "You don’t have anything left to prove to me about trust. Nothing."

"But…" John tried to say.

"No," I interrupted, "it’s my turn to show you how much I trust you…and you need to trust that I know what I’m doing."

"But, Joe…" he started again. I wasn’t sure if he had quite gotten it yet.

"John, it’s my game and I’m changing the rules. Don’t make a promise I don’t want you to keep."

John kissed me and I felt his cock press more insistently against me. “Joe, I—”

"Shhh," I said, "I don’t want to TALK about fucking anymore…"

John laughed and said, “Yeah, I got that…I just wanted to say…I love you.”

"I know that," I said, "or you wouldn’t be standing where you are…now let me help you in…" I took his cock in one hand and added, "you can let go of mine…for a minute." John tried to spread my cheeks further apart with one hand while keeping the other on his cock (and my hand) as he pressed forward.

"John, use both hands to spread my cheeks, ok?…then push…slowly…with your ass…I’m guiding you…"

"But pushing with my body is called ‘fucking,’" he quoted Jack and we both laughed.

"Yeah, I got that," I said as the head of his cock just barely entered my hole. "Ok, push in a little more or it’s not going to hold inside." I took a deep breath as I felt his full head enter me. His mushroom felt like a portobello inside me, and my sphincter tightened around it. "Good…now a little deeper…then stop…" and I grunted as I felt his thicker shaft begin to follow the head.

"A little more…now…slow… please…
oh fuck…there…traction…” and whatever it was that had clicked when Jack had had about 3” of his cock inside me clicked again, in the same very good way.

"Oh fuck yeah…that’s it…can you just stay right there…just a minute…more…" I said as that same familiar cock-hunger coursed through me - a fierce desire to be filled all the way up with cock, to surrender everything to John…as if my body knew that if that cock were just a few inches deeper it would complete me…and I badly needed to be completed…I remember squirming, inching back closer to John, trying to bring him deeper inside.

"Oh fuck…that’s so…good…" I took a deep breath and tried to focus on saying one last rational thing, but instead what came out of my mouth was the same silly question that had almost simultaneously popped into my head. "Are we fucking yet?" I asked giddily, and started laughing.

My unexpected levity clearly caught John by surprise and he laughed so hard he nearly lost traction, his cock slipping back (but not out). He pushed forward, reclaiming lost territory and maybe a smidgin more.
“Now we are,” he said, and we both started laughing again.

I’ve often thought that that most unscripted of moments may have been just the thing we needed to bring what had begun (for John, at least, who had believed only moments before he penetrated me that ‘no matter what’ he would NOT be fucking me that night) as more of a mental than a physical exercise, back down to the trenches of good old earthy lust where it belonged. For sure John visibly relaxed - and he was about to become one superb fucker. Probably he would have fucked my lights out anyway, but who can say?

Still, I had to give that one last bit of instruction, pass along that last rational thought I had been reaching for a moment earlier, before I could surrender: “I’m through talking about fucking now…just go slow, stop, wait, if I ask..and…remember…you don’t have to use your whole HUGE cock…this time…no matter how much I want it all…oh god please just fuck me…now…”

That was at least a semi-rational thought. John again started very slowly, withdrawing a little, pushing in a little further, slowly working that big cobra cock in and out and deeper and deeper. And I stopped telling him how to fuck me in the ass because he knew exactly how to do that: he fucked me as gently and as tenderly and as passionately as I know he would’ve liked to have been fucked if our positions had been reversed.

Mostly I just made a lot of noise, I think, guttural animal noises, rooftop yawps, and grunted single words like ‘harder’ ‘faster’ ‘deeper’ ‘slower’ ‘easy’ ‘more’ ‘stop’ ‘go,’ occasionally adding a personal pronoun: ‘fuck me fuck me fuck me…’

I have no idea how long we actually fucked but it seemed like a long fucking time (in a very good way) to me. The “fucking itself” (post-laughter) may not have not lasted as long as the penetration and oh-so-slow gaining of traction and creeping forward - the actual elapsed time is of no consequence, but the exquisite patience my partner showed was paramount.

I know I came very quickly after the in/out began in earnest, long before John finally collapsed on me, thrusting and shuddering, as he pumped what seemed like about a quart of semen deep into me. From the time John’s cock had ‘engaged’ inside me - where it could hold without being expelled by my contracting sphincter - and I had experienced that sublime ‘click, ’ I had felt on the verge of orgasm but the fucking alone couldn’t quite get me over the top. At some point before John put my ankles (sprain and all) on or against (not really clear about where my feet ended up but I know my legs were up in the air) I started stroking my cock, and it only took a handful of strokes to make me blow my load.

And, yes, getting fucked in the ass hurt like a motherfucker. But the funny thing was that getting fucked in the ass that first time never hurt so much that I had ever wanted the fucking to stop. I had never before experienced an intimacy that remotely approached the incredibly, viscerally intimate feeling of John’s cock being as deep in my ass as his was (as deep as was prudent for that first time). Getting fucked in the ass the second time hurt just as much as the first time, but it felt even better. Getting fucked in the ass the third time hurt less and felt better still. Getting fucked in the ass the fourth time was the most intimate yet, and I don’t recall any pain.

I liked having my legs up against John’s chest because it brought “him”
even closer to “me” - what I wanted was to feel his lower abdomen pressed as closely up against my ass cheeks as possible, and I have no doubt I ‘encouraged’ him to bury every bit of his dick as deeply inside me as he could. The fact that I didn’t get that particular wish that night was, of course, a good thing, and further proof that my trust in John was very well-placed. It was somewhere during that time when my legs were up against John’s chest/shoulders, I guess just before before he came, that he said something like ‘I’m about to cum…should I—”

"Cum inside me…don’t stop…faster…" Maybe not my best decision ever, but that decision wasn’t made in the heat of passion, rather I made it in the comfort of the Crown Candy Kitchen. It felt right then and I never regretted that attempt to convey my total trust in John.

Buttfucking can be a messy business, of course. For example, I would’ve preferred to have had the small pre-fuck enema I had penciled in when I first scheduled my inaugural assfucking to occur in Mississippi the next week, but that wasn’t in the cards once I advanced the grand opening. Another thing is that an erect penis works as a very efficient plunger to force air into the bowels of the guy getting fucked in the ass. And all that in/out ‘irritation’ or ‘stimulation’ loosens the bowels - that’s just a fact. No further details are necessary, but it wasn’t long at all after John collapsed on top of me, drenched in sweat, that I had to be excused.

I was just limping (and for more than one reason) back into the bedroom when I heard the distinctive ping that let me know Jack was still thinking about me. ‘Not fucking now,’ was my immediate thought, until my brain registered that John, who was on my side of the bed, was reaching for my phone; a millisecond later my brain remembered that the dumbass owner of the phone had not yet cleared a certain conversation…which instantly converted my initial thought into ‘NOT FUCKING NOW!’ as John’s hand closed around my phone and automatically turned it over so his eyes could see the screen (and 1st line of any text message) even as his arm extended the phone in my direction - all in slow fucking motion.

I didn’t even have time to consider lunging for the phone before my hand was closing around it. “Thanks, man, probably just another ice alert, though…” I said, demonstrably NOT looking at my phone’s backstabbing screen (I knew it without looking - Jack had just fucked me in the ass, too).

"Maybe so," John said drowsily as he started to get out of bed, "but it sounded to me like your tone for Jack…" John was plainly headed to the head, but he made a sudden detour, veering over to where I was standing holding my phone of shame, which, I was sure, was even then burning a scarlet "A" into my hand…
John’s hand cupped my nearest ass cheek in his hand as he kissed me deeply. “In my wildest fucking dreams, Joe, I never imagined we’d connect like that…wow…did you feel something too?”

I didn’t lie when I replied, “fucking blew me away, man, you devastated me…in the best possible way…”

"Beers?" I asked John’s back.

"Definitely dude."

I limped into the kitchen as fast as I could, snatched two IPAs out of the fridge and set them on the counter, and looked at my phone’s screen before opening, so I would know the worst of what might have been visible to John…

…which was fucking terrible! What the fuck had I done to deserve this shit sandwich…one slice from Jack…and another from #314xxx

•••••••10:38 pm

Jack: IM SO FUCKIN HARD 4U…

[+ PHOTO]

•••••••9:05 pm

314xxx: u wanna fuck me again…

Breaking in the roommate/3.

Breaking in the roommate/3.

Fucking mirror images.

Fucking mirror images.

Sun•riser.

How we fuck.

How I accidentally fucked my best friend when he tripped while running up the stairs.

How I accidentally fucked my best friend when he tripped while running up the stairs.