ATF Universe
I'm lying on the leather couch in the den, catnapping between snatches of the hockey playoffs and the NBA finals, the Sunday Times spread around me. My lover crosses my line of half-mast vision to get to the TV Guide, naked except for the white Calvin Klein boxers. "Vin," I ask him, "since when do you wear designer underwear?""Since Ezra made me in charge of the laundry on our last underover gig," he drawls. "Think he'd know better. I left him my top-of-the-line K-Mart drawers. Fair exchange, don't you think?" he grins, flashing impossibly white teeth.
"Hell, he wouldn't wear them even alone in his apartment, probably rather go naked."
"Not an image I want to entertain, cowboy. Not when you're layin' there lookin' lonesome," Vin says seductively.
I'm staring at his powerful thighs and bulging crotch and I murmer to him, "Well, then bring yourself over here and keep me company."
My eyes focus on him as if seeing him for the first time and I'm falling in love with him all over again: his silky, long hair licking his forehead, curling on his shoulders, mischievous blue eyes, lanky angular body, neither short nor tall, just slightly too thin, a fair, almost translucent complexion. Unexpectantly a somber look might push away the boyish smile, extend the tilt of his eyes—suddenly haunted eyes—and dark semicircles would deepen under them, a moody beauty would emerge, along with the impression of darkness—despite the glowing hair, the clear eyes so moistly blue at times they seem to weep without tears. Almost 27, but aging or growing younger in alternating moods. Right now I want him more than I've wanted anything in my life.
He straddles my head, one foot on the floor, one knee beside my ear, supporting his weight on the arm of the couch.
I arch up, nuzzling my face into the dampness of the white cotton, snuffling him, inhaling him deeply, smelling both the musky reek of sweating loins and the cleanliness of his shorts. I mouth his hardening front, breathing on it, gumming it with lips drawn tight over teeth. I nip the insides of his thighs, biting hard enough to make him groan, and lap at the skin to ease the pain.
I stretch the elastic waistband far down, freeing him. I circle the tip of his beautifully tapered cock with my tongue, stabbing at it, bouncing it, flicking at its underside, and finally drawing its heaviness into my mouth. He is salty, smelling of soap, and I lift my head as I press my hand hard against his ass, forcing him against the back of my throat. He groans low, sucking in air through clenched teeth. I start to suck him as if it were our first time together. Taking it in, feeling every bit of it, filling every bit of my mouth, moving steadily forward, my lips circling his thick cockshaft until I feel my nose buried in his soft pubic hair.
I ease my head back and he leans back slightly. I slowly suck and tongue his cock and reach up to cup his balls, stroking them, feeling their largeness, their exquisite heaviness in his low-hanging ballsac. I lose myself in Vin's crotch.
Eyes closed, Vin becomes the center of my universe—he has that effect on me, always has. This contact of Vin's body with my tongue and mouth and throat sends waves of pleasure throughout my entire body. I hear him moaning. His blue eyes bore down into mine. What is going though his mind? I know what's in mine. Taking him. Filling him. Possessing him. Marking him.
I slip my hands behind him and trace circles on his muscular ass cheeks, letting my thumb dip down to the space between his balls and buttocks, then sliding a finger up to explore the puckered mouth of his asshole. He clamps up to prevent me from rubbing there. I pull my head back so his cock slips out of my mouth and I grin up at him. His eyes are half-shut in ecstasy. "Fuck me, Chris," he whispers, in that raspy, rough voice of his. It sends shivers down my spine, hearing that voice. "Please."
I press on with my moistened finger, it's slick in there. Waiting for me. I am going to wear him out. I am going to stay in that puckered, slippery ass all afternoon. We change positions as we hurriedly move to the floor next to the couch, pushing the coffee table away in our haste. Vin is on all fours and I am kneeling behind him, the lust aching inside me, my cock ready to burst just gazing at his perfect ass. My hand slowly slips around his muscled somach and I lock my fist around his cock tightly, stroking him firmly.
I tongue some spit onto my hand and rub it on my eager cock. The tip of my cock presses against his asshole. I push forward and it slides in easily.
"Yeah! That's it," Vin practically purrs.
I slowly inch my cock inside him until I am all the way up him. The temptation is so strong just to ream him fast and furious, but I hold back. I keep control. This time. I slowly withdraw until just my cockhead is inside him then I shove it all the way in again. I am rhythmically pumping in and out of Vin, working his cock with the same rhythm. He is groaning my name and shaking his head back and forth.
I can tell he is close to coming and I work on his cock with abandon. I am seconds away from coming, too, and I give a final jerk of his cock and Vin shoots cum all over my hand. Wave after wave of pleasure is coursing through my body and I come in him, almost violently, screaming my lover's name as I explode.
We lay side by side on the den floor, looking up at the ceiling. We are both panting.
"Shit!" we both say in unison and then laugh. I look over at Vin and he winks at me. I may have been happier in my life but at the moment I can't remember when.
THE END
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