Gay Erotic Stories

“You know we’re short-staffed, Batista. Or haven’t you noticed how many assignments you’ve had to take the last few months?”

“Yeah, okay, so maybe it’s been a bit hectic, but I love it. I need to stay in business and I don’t need another intern getting in my way. For Christ’s sake, the last one didn’t even know how to load film into the camera!”

“This one is different, I promise. Just give him a chance, all right? Can you promise me that?”

He stared me down. We’d had this discussion a dozen times before and I knew he wasn’t going to back down this time.

“Fine, where is this wunderkind?”

“Right behind you,” Larry answered, pointing toward his office door. I turned to see yet another young, bright-eyed wannabe journalist stroll in.

“Batista, I’d like you to meet Elliott Randall. Elliott this is…”

“I know who he is,” the kid replied. His face lit up like a Christmas tree as he eagerly extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Batista. I’m a huge fan of your work.”

I shook his hand. “You know my work?”

“Oh yes, most definitely,” he answered, still shaking my hand. He blushed slightly when I snatched it away. “I’ve been following your work ever since you were on the Today Show and they showed your photo essay on Tibet. You’re the reason I decided to take up photography in the first place. You’re like the god of photography as far as I’m concerned.”

“Wow, that’s some compliment. I never knew I had a fan.”

“Okay, okay,” Larry interrupted, “if you’re done getting your ego stroked, can you take this conversation somewhere else? I have a meeting in five minutes.”

“Yeah, sure,” I replied. “I’ll show Elliott around and introduce him to all the important people.”

The young intern smiled from ear to ear and practically skipped out of the office.

“I think you may have picked a winner this time,” I said to Larry before I left. He just rolled his eyes and waved me out of his office.

I took Elliott on the grand tour of the main office, making sure to introduce him to “the gang.” His eyes teemed with excitement the whole time. He hung onto my every word, but had little to say himself. I figured the whole experience was too overwhelming. I did manage to wrangle up a little conversation from him, however, and found out he was a senior with a double major in Linguistics and Communications. Photography was more of a hobby turned passion. He had taken some courses at a nearby art institute and wanted to get some professional experience. Our magazines offered the perfect opportunity for him to hone all of his skills. I thought he was going to pass out when I asked to see the portfolio that he had kept clutched under his arm.

“Excellent work,” I admired. “Your pictures tell a story… that’s good.” “Oh my God, I can’t believe THE John Paul Batista thinks my work is excellent.”

“Believe it. So what does Larry have you working on first?”

“He said he might let me do the Barbeque Battle next week. Other than that, it looks like I’ll be working in layout for a while.”

“Layout?! You’re too talented to do grunt work,” I said. “Let me see if I can talk him into letting you go with me to Switzerland. Would you like that?”

“Would I? Of course I would. That’d be fucking fantastic!” he blurted out then blushed. “Sorry, Mr. Batista…guess I got a little excited.”

“Don’t sweat it… and call me John Paul.”

“I have to go call my girlfriend… she’s going to freak!”

I let him use my phone while I went to talk to Larry. It took a little convincing, but Larry finally agreed to let Elliott go to Switzerland with me. He knew the kid had talent, but it was his job as editor to not let “the kid think he’s hot shit when he’s just a warm turd.” It was my job to show Larry that “the kid” was in fact very hot shit.

When we got to Switzerland, I decided to let Elliott compose all the shots. It was a pretty basic assignment: we were supposed to take pictures for an article on skiing in the Alps. All the editors were looking for were a few pictures of some snow-capped mountains and a couple of chalets. But, as I suspected, Elliott had something else in mind.

“What do you think about taking some pictures in the village?” he asked. “I mean, who wants to see a bunch of pictures of chalets? If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all, right? So, I was thinking it’d be more interesting to focus on the charm of the town and its people.”

I couldn’t have agreed more and neither could the editors. When I showed them the layout, they loved it. They were even more impressed when they found out that it was Elliott’s concept. “That’s the kind of creativity we need here,” Larry commented and on the merits of that submission alone, they offered Elliott a permanent position with the company as a junior photographer – with me as his mentor, of course.

He hadn’t attended the presentation because he was too nervous. So, after the meeting, I went to tell him the good news. I had no idea where he’d hid himself. I asked Traci from Advertising; she had a knack for knowing exactly where Elliott was at all times. Traci said she saw him go into the darkroom.

“Elliott, are you in here?” I called out.

“Yeah, um, I’m in Lab 3,” he yelled back.

I stumbled through the maze-like corridor to the lab. Elliott was pulling down some pictures he had just finished developing. They didn’t look like they were dry yet.

“What’s that you’re working on?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing, just some stupid shots I took on the trip.”

“Can I see?”

“You don’t want to see these… I was just goofing off when I took them.”

“So? I want to see them anyway.” Elliott seemed reluctant to show them to me.

“What are they, nudie pictures or something?” I teased.

“No,” he said, handing me the stack of photos.

“Heh, this is a picture of me…and here’s me talking to the old lady selling hand puppets. They’re all pictures of me.”

“I told you I was just goofing around,” he said defensively.

“They’re still good. Maybe I can use them someday when I write my autobiography. There’s not a bad shot of me in here.”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t take a bad picture of you if I tried.”

“Man, you sure know how to make a guy feel good. I need to keep you around just to stroke my ego.” He laughed at my joke although it seemed a bit artificial. “Anyway, I have some good news for you. The editors loved your layout for the Swiss Alps story. They loved it so much that they’re offering you a full-time position as a photographer. Now, the pay isn’t great and you’d be working with me at first, but…”

“Are you serious? They want me to work here…with you? Oh my God, that’s incredible! This is so cool…I can’t believe it!”

“Does this mean you accept?”

“Hell yeah!” he screamed. “Lisa’s going to flip out when she hears this.”

“Well, when you give her the good news, tell her that I’m taking the two of you out to celebrate…some dinner, maybe a little dancing…”

“For real? Oh man, this is so cool!”

“Welcome aboard,” I said and extended my hand. He ignored my outstretched hand and gave me a big hug instead. Then he grabbed his stuff and ran off to call his girlfriend.

I told him to meet me at the restaurant at 7:30 and told him to dress sharp. It was a hip, upscale joint where I usually took my dates to impress them. I thought it might give him some points with his lady friend too. I got there a few minutes early so Elliott and Lisa wouldn’t have to wait. At 7:30 on the dot, Elliott arrived – alone.

“Where’s Lisa?” I inquired. “Is she running late?”

“No, um, Lisa’s not coming. She has some big exam coming up that she needs to study for. She wanted me to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t make it.”

“No need for apologies; her studies come first. I’m just sorry I won’t get a chance to meet her though. Oh well, I guess it’s just us guys.”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile, “Just us guys.”

“You got your hair cut,” I said as he sat down. Someone had managed to tame his wild, curly red locks into a gelled-up, spiky do.

“You told me this place was hip; I had to dress the part.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting this. It looks good on you, though.” He seemed pleased with my compliment.

His hair wasn’t the only thing that was different about Elliott. His whole look had changed. He looked kind of nerdy when we first met, but not anymore. In fact, he looked pretty hot – like he had just stepped out of an Armani ad with his square-toed black loafers, flat-front black pants, and gray V-neck sweater. He had even ditched his thick plastic-rimmed glasses for a pair of stylish wire frames. Before then I’d never paid attention to the fact that his eyes were so very green.

He was also more nervous than usual. He fidgeted throughout dinner and rarely looked at me when he talked. I thought maybe he was uncomfortable being alone with me. He knew I was gay: I made it a point to tell him before we went to Switzerland since we were going to be sharing a room. He didn’t have any problems sleeping in a room with me, but that was business, I suppose. The two of us having dinner together was more intimate and had romantic undertones that might make many secure straight men cringe. In light of this, I tried to keep the conversation light and, eventually, with the help of a few glasses of wine, he was able to loosen up a bit.

We finished dinner and headed out for the club. We walked; it was only a few blocks away from the restaurant. It was close to 9:30 when we got there. The gang was supposed to show up to help us celebrate, but no one had arrived yet. So, I started the party myself. I bought the first round of drinks for Elliott and me. Elliott ordered a rum and Coke, which really helped to loosen him up. By the time Jake and the gang arrived, he was talking almost non-stop.

They all took turns congratulating the new kid and telling him their horror stories about working for the company. About that time, Seth came in and wanted to talk. Seth worked in Accounting and we’d been playing a brief, but frustrating game of cat and mouse. I really liked him and he liked me too, but he was trying to fix a fading relationship. That night, however, he seemed to be having a change of heart. I felt a little bad leaving Elliott, but Jake seemed to be keeping him well entertained.

After a nice round of flirting, Seth and I decided to take our meeting to the dance floor. We were getting our dance on and, by the way he was pressing his body into mine, it seemed his fading relationship had officially ended and ours was just about to begin. That’s when I noticed Elliott was gone. The rest of the crew was still drinking, laughing, and talking, but Elliott was nowhere to be found.

The next morning, I asked him what happened to him. He said he was tired and missed his girlfriend, so he decided to cut out early. He asked me how things went between Seth and me. I thought it was strange that he’d ask me something so personal, but I didn’t mind. There are people that you foresee being good friends with and Elliott was one of those people. So, sparing the gory details, I told him that Seth and I had a wild night of sex and had sort of agreed to a pseudo-committed relationship.

“Sweet. Maybe we can go on a double date sometime,” he suggested.

“Sounds hokey, but I’m up for it.”

We laughed and that was that. From then on, it was business as usual. Elliott and I had an incredible working relationship and, as I predicted, developed a pretty tight personal bond. When we weren’t on assignment we spent a lot of time hanging out. Most of the time, it was Jake, Elliott and I. Sometimes it was with the gang from work, and occasionally either Lisa or Seth would tag along. We never could manage to get that double date thing together, however; before we could work it into everyone’s schedule, Seth and I decided to call it quits.

I told Elliott that it was just a sexual thing to begin with and that I was okay with the breakup, but he insisted on taking me so I could dance and drink my sorrows away. Always looking for an excuse to party, I agreed. I had a lot to drink that night. I wouldn’t say I was wasted but I was pretty out of it. There was no way I was going to drive home and Elliott didn’t trust me taking a cab safely back, so he offered to drive me home.

“You don’t know where I live,” I said.

“Then you can tell me,” he answered, helping me walk to his car.

“Mm okay… hey, wait a sec… I don’t know where I live either.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

I plopped into the passenger’s seat and let him buckle me in. “Nope. I just moved and I don’t remember where to. If you had helped me move, you’d know where it was.”

“I told you I couldn’t help…wait a minute, why am I explaining myself to a drunken man?”

I shrugged my shoulders. Elliott closed my door then walked around and climbed in behind the wheel. He started the car and drove away.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“I’m taking you to my place.”

“Oh goody,” I said then dozed off.

He lived in Maryland, about twenty minutes outside of D.C., so by the time we arrived at his apartment I’d had a nice refreshing nap. I could walk on my own now and followed him into the building. He ushered me into his apartment. It was much bigger than mine and he had really nice furniture. I knew housing was more expensive in the city, but I also knew how little he made at the magazine.

“Nice place,” I commented.

“Thanks,” he said. “Make yourself at home while I make up the guest bed.” He had tons of framed photographs on every wall and every flat surface in the house. There were pictures of Lisa and what I assumed to be his family, prominently displayed throughout. There were just as many photos from our business trips; of those, I somehow made it into 98% of them.

“There sure are a lot of pictures of me around,” I yelled. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were obsessed with me or something.”

“Lisa said the same thing,” he yelled back. “It’s not my fault you’re a camera hog who puts his mug in all the cool shots.”

I chuckled. It was kind of neat to have my own little shrine of sorts. I finished perusing his gallery then plopped down on the big, overstuffed sofa. There were several magazines perfectly displayed on the coffee table. They were all one of our publications and I recognized them as the issues that featuring Elliott’s work. In the center of the arrangement was a large coffee table book: Batismal by Elliott Randall.

“Hey Elliott, I didn’t know you were published.”

Elliott ran out of the guest room and into the living room. He grabbed the book out of my hand before I could look inside. “You don’t want to see that…it’s just a bunch of nude shots. I didn’t want to do it, but I needed the money.”

I grabbed the book back. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve done a few nude compilations myself.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to see these. They’re so amateurish.” He tried to take the book back but I held on.

“Just let me see the pictures dammit.” His face turned beet red and he slowly let go of the book.

I flipped past the foreword to the first picture. It was a simple black-and-white photo of a nude male standing in a pool or lake with his back turned to the camera. It was a bit amateurish compared to some of the things I’d seen him do, but it was still better than 80% of the erotic art I’d seen. Maybe he was ashamed because he had used a male model. I didn’t see the big deal – I knew plenty of straight photographers who used male models for their collections.

“It’s not your best work but it’s still good. And this model is cute. Who is he?”

“Just some guy,” he said. His face was still flushed and he was constantly wringing his hands.

I turned the page to another photo of a man taking a shower. Most of his body was obscured by the frosted glass door, but bits of skins were clearly visible through the large unfrosted fleur-de-lis pattern. It looked just like the showers at the hotel where we stayed in Paris. The next picture showed the guy lying on a bed with the sheets tossed artfully over his body. One leg was propped up to conceal his private parts and his arm was draped over his face. That’s when I noticed a small birthmark on his shoulder. It looked just like mine. I flipped to the next page, and the next, and the next. Each photo found this model naked in some exotic outdoor location – all places I had been in the past three months. On the last page there was a dedication: “To JPB, my mentor, my muse, my love.”

By now, Elliott was a nervous wreck. He had taken a seat in one of the armchairs; his face was ghostly pale and he looked like he might pass out. The model in the pictures was clearly me. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t mad. I wasn’t even embarrassed. I was bold enough to parade around in the nude; why be modest now? I was a bit freaked out though: the book, the dozens of photos in the apartment, the dedication; it was all so surreal.

“I can explain,” Elliott whispered.

“I don’t think you need to,” I answered.

“Please don’t be mad,” he said with tears in his eyes.

“I’m not mad… I’m just… confused, I guess. You seem to have a fascination with taking my picture.” He looked away and didn’t answer.

“Come on Elliott… we’re friends; we can talk about this.”

“Who wouldn’t be fascinated?” he finally said. “Look at those pictures. No matter how sloppy the composition is, or how poor the lighting is, you always look beautiful. It’s impossible to take a bad photo of you.”

“So that’s all this is – a study in composition, an experiment?”

“No. You read the dedication. I think you know what this is about.”

“You think you’re in love with me?”

“Don’t patronize me. I know how I feel about you.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry, but you’ll understand if I have my doubts. Until a few minutes ago I thought you were straight…I thought you loved Lisa.”

Elliott sighed. “I’ve known for years that I’m not straight. Since middle school I’ve been curious about other guys. I’d steal peeks in the locker room or buy bodybuilding magazines just to look at the pictures, but I never seriously considered being with another guy. Then I met Lisa during my junior year and I stopped looking at other guys entirely. I loved her and that’s all I needed. I still do love her, but I’m not in love with her. I used to think I was until I met you.

“I don’t lie awake at night thinking about her like I think about you. My stomach doesn’t get all knotted up inside when I’m around her like it does when I’m with you. The guys I used to look at in high school and college were just eye candy. You’re so much more than that.” Elliott came over to sit by me on the sofa. “I love everything about you: your charm, your style, your intelligence, your eyes, your smile… your lips.”

He leaned over to kiss me. I didn’t resist although I knew I should have. When I felt his tongue dancing against my teeth, I lost control of reason and gave into my carnal instincts. I let his tongue slip into my mouth and sucked on it. His kiss was powerful and urgent. I wondered if that’s how he kissed Lisa. Shit, what about Lisa? I unlocked my tongue from his and stared him in the eye.

“I don’t think we should do this Elliott,” I said, resisting the mounting lust and sexual electricity between us.

“Why?” He looked so wounded, so abject, it only added to the conflict between reason and emotion growing inside me.

“I don’t love you, Elliott,” I divulged.

“That’s not true,” he said, stroking the bulge between my legs. “You’re just not used to thinking of me that way. I want to change that.”

“Mmmmm…but, what about Lisa?”

He leaned in for another kiss and I had the answer I needed. I sucked his tongue back into my mouth and joined him in another wet, passionate kiss. I broke away from the kiss and stood up. I told him to stand up beside me so I could undress him. He obeyed but suddenly seemed unsure of what he’d gotten himself into. I gave him a reassuring kiss and lifted the bottom of his sweater. Like a child being undressed, he dutifully raised his arms and let me slide it over his head. I inspected every inch of his smooth pale body, from his broad freckled shoulders to the fiery red trail running from his navel into the waistband of his pants. He wasn’t built by any means, but his chest was nice and solid, and his stomach was smooth and tight.

Visibly embarrassed by the way I was eyeing him, Elliott fidgeted; he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his arms. He looked so cute standing there with his arms folded and his head bowed bashfully. I unfolded his arms and kissed him gently on the neck then on his shoulder and chest. I heard him sigh when my lips made contact with his extra-large, extra-hard nipple. I rolled it around on my tongue then nibbled on it. He grabbed the back of my head and crammed my face into his chest. I was happy to oblige his silent request and began to feast on his tit. I licked and sucked on it like a hungry calf while I worked the other one between my thumb and forefinger. By the way he was tugging on my hair I assumed he liked what he was feeling, but he never made a sound. I wasn’t used to having such a mute partner and I made it my mission to have him screaming by the time all was said and done.

I managed to free myself from his tit, which was red and swollen at this point. I gave them both a farewell lick before weaving a trail of kisses down his trembling stomach. His pants hung low on his slim waist; exposing his hipbones and a teasing peek of his bush. I bathed his belly button with my tongue while my fingers blindly unbuttoned his trousers. With a slight tug and a wiggle of his hips, they slid over his narrow hips. How convenient that he wasn’t wearing underwear and I was now eye-to-eye with his pride and joy.

His dick wasn’t quite hard yet, but it was already quite impressive. I grabbed it and stroked it gently to full stiffness. Who would have thought that meek, young Elliott was packing so much heat: a thick, nine-inch ivory tower jutting from a neatly trimmed nest of crimson red pubes. It was even paler than the rest of his body; you could see every vein clearly through the tightly stretched translucent skin. I licked my lips and looked up at him. He watched me eyeing his cock like candy and had a hungry look in his eyes too, one that was urging me to go on. But I wanted to hear him say it.

I kissed and licked the tip of his cock, never really putting it in my mouth. I could see the mounting frustration in Elliott’s eyes and feel the lust swelling in his cock. I opened my mouth invitingly only to refuse him entrance when he thrust his hips forward. My teasing was driving him crazy, reducing him to a string of pathetic whimpers and moans. I wrapped my lips around the head and gave it a quick, powerful suck, forcing yet another moan out of my bashful lover.

“Uuuh…John Paul…” he started then caught his words on his tongue. I sucked on the head again and I could see him struggling to hold back. His restraints began to crumble when I sucked half of his throbbing tool into my mouth then quickly withdrew it. They were completely destroyed when I slapped my outstretched tongue with his fat prick.

“Oh God…suck it!” he hissed. “Please suck my cock before I go crazy!” It was like music to my ears. There was no way I could refuse such a needy request. I opened my mouth and slowly worked that hefty dong into my mouth until the head was comfortably stuffed in my throat. He was thick and it wasn’t easy getting it down, but it was all in there. Grabbing a handful of ass in each hand I began the blowjob that we had both been waiting for.

Sometimes I exaggerate heavy slurping and gagging sounds to turn a guy on; with Elliott’s slab of meat, I didn’t have to exaggerate. It was the first time in a long while that I had to work that hard on sucking a cock.

“Oh fuck yeah, suck that cock John Paul! Look up at me while you slide my fat dick in and out of your mouth…oh yeah, that’s so fucking hot! Mm, yeah, get it nice and wet… I like it like that.”

He was silent no more. I had created a monster. His dirty talk was sexy though and, along with the gurgling sounds coming out of my own throat, it was doing a number on my own fuck stick. I ignored my needs for the moment and continued to spit shine his pole. His body started to tense up again. It was that close-to-orgasm kind of stiffness that started with the clenching of his firm little ass. I pulled his dick out of my mouth and backed away. He looked almost angry that I had stopped, but I knew he’d be happy once he found out what I had planned.

“Let’s get you completely naked,” I said, reaching down to pull off his shoes.

He sat down on the sofa, which made the process of removing his shoes, socks and pants much easier. He looked a lot less innocent sitting naked on the sofa, with his legs spread wide, and his big fat dick pointing to the sky. I slid his hips forward on the couch and lifted his legs up to expose his virgin asshole.

“What are you doing?” he asked frantically.

“Just relax,” I said. “Now lay back.”

He looked worried. Staring straight at Elliott’s hole, I hocked a loogie dead center on his tightly clenched pucker. I worked the spit around the opening with my index finger until I felt it relax a little. I sucked on the finger, getting it nice and wet then slid it slowly into his chute. He wiggled and squirmed trying to dislodge the invader from his ass, but I held him firmly with my free hand while I buried my finger to the knuckle. I wiggled around his squishy hole until I found the spot. He stopped squirming and I knew I’d found it. His newly defiled sphincter gripped my finger tightly as it worked its way in and out of him. Elliott started wriggling again, this time to get more of my finger into his hungry ass.

He whimpered like a tortured animal telling me that no one had ever played with his hole before and how much he loved it. No surprise there. With my finger still tickling his prostate, I opened wide to accept his rigid cock back into my mouth. Elliott let out a savage growl and arched his back, effectively forcing his thick pole down my throat again.

I gorged on his lily-white prong, hoping it would distract him from the introduction of a second finger into his snug manhole. There was no need to hide it from him; he was ready for it. His hungry ass quickly gobbled up my second finger into its spongy depths. All the while, Elliott was spewing out the sweetest filth a guy could ask for.

I dislodged his prick from my craw. It was slick and shiny with a thick coat of spit, which I used to stroke it. The other hand was busy furiously finger-fucking his ass. The combined stimuli soon proved to be more than Elliott could handle. His body tensed, his ass clenched down on my fingers, and his nuts tightened against his body.

I felt his dick throb in my hand as the first stream of cum jettisoned into the air. It landed with a loud splat on his heaving chest, followed by another, and another. It seemed like he came forever, spraying a gallon of spooge all over his chest and stomach and my face and hair. The last torrents of his powerful load dribbled out of his still pulsating cock until his tap finally ran dry.

I gave his tool a few more strokes in my cum-drenched hand then licked them both clean. His cum was sweet and fresh, just like I expected, just like him. I started to feel the pangs of guilt for what I’d just done: I’d always said that I’d never sleep with someone who loved me unless I loved them back. And although I hadn’t technically slept with Elliott, the consequences were the same. I could already see the traces of a blissful grin growing on his face. It wasn’t the kind of satisfaction that comes with fucking a random stranger; it was the joy of making love to someone you care about.

“That was incredible, John Paul. No one has ever made me feel like that before. I can’t wait until…”

“You’d better go take a shower,” I interrupted. “You’re going to feel pretty gross when this stuff starts to dry.”

He looked puzzled, but he got up from the sofa anyway and trotted off to the bathroom. I couldn’t go anywhere: I didn’t have a car and, besides, I was exhausted. I thought maybe the best thing to do would be to go to sleep and deal with the mess in the morning. I dragged myself down the hallway to the guest bedroom and collapsed face down on the bed. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep with the calming sounds of Elliott’s shower across the hall.

When I woke up, Elliott was sitting quietly in a chair beside the bed. He was dressed only in a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, and had been watching me sleep, I presume.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Watching you sleep.”

“How long have you been there?”

He shrugged. “About an hour, I reckon.”

The thought of him watching me sleep was both creepy and romantic. And he looked so content. What had I done?

“You looked so peaceful,” he commented. “I could probably watch you sleep all night.”

I sighed. “Come here, Elliott, we need to talk.”

“I already know what you’re going to say,” he said, moving from the chair to sit beside me on the bed.

I rolled over and propped myself up on my elbow. “I don’t want to lead you on.”

“Don’t worry; I already know what I’m getting myself into,” he said as he slid his hand under my shirt.

“Elliott, stop,” I said, but he ignored my feeble plea and continued to gingerly caress my side.

“Why are you fighting it? You want this as much as I do.” His hand drifted towards my already hardening cock. “See? I told you.”

I didn’t put up any resistance when he rolled me onto my back. I’m weak; I have no problems admitting that. But if you felt his strong hands groping your package, you’d have been weak too. He worked his way up my body, sliding my shirt higher as he did. Now, with my chest completely uncovered, he leaned down and planted kisses on each nipple. While he licked and teased my tits, his hands were busy undoing my pants.

I lifted my hips to let him slide my pants down. I kicked them off while he fished my raging boner out of my boxers. He regarded it curiously and gave it a few tentative strokes. Watching him reminded me of how fascinated I was the first time I held someone else’s dick. Curiosity turned to lust when he saw the first clear drop of pre-cum leaking from my cock. Almost instinctively, Elliott stuck out his tongue and licked my tip clean. He savored the taste for a moment then extracted another pearl of nectar from my aching tool onto his awaiting tongue. He kept that up for a while until my cock head was coated with my pre-cum and his spit. Then he wrapped his lips around the shiny knob and sucked the juice out of my cock like a straw.

“Unh, ooh…” I moaned. “If you keep that shit up I’m going to cum too soon.”

But Elliott already had the taste of cock in his system; he wasn’t about to stop feasting yet. I figured if he was hungry for dick, why settle for a snack when you can have a whole meal? Grabbing a fist full of hair and holding his head steady, I guided my meat into his mouth until I felt the tip hit the back. Like a good boy, he never stopped sucking my pole even as it stuffed his mouth to capacity. Timing it just right, I edged in deeper just as he swallowed another load of my pre-cum. My cock slid right down his throat. He moaned and smiled as best he could.

“Yeah Elliott, that’s it. You’ve got the whole fucking thing down your throat. Now suck on it. C’mon… yeah, that’s it.”

Driven by my words of encouragement, Elliott eagerly slurped on my meat, bobbing his head up and down, getting it good and sloppy. He would be a great cocksucker someday.

“Aw fuck, I’m going to cum!!” I wailed.

Taking his cue, Elliott pulled my cock out of his throat just in time to stop the impending eruption. “Not yet,” he said, gasping for air. “Not until you fuck me with that thing.”

“Are you sure? I’m pretty big and you’ve never been fucked before.”

“I’m sure. I know it might hurt at first, but I’ve gotta feel you inside me. My ass is itching for your cock.”

“Alright then, come up here and let me get at that ass again.”

Elliott obediently spun around and presented his recently cleaned asshole to my hungry mouth. I opened him up and shoved my tongue as far up his hole as I could. He was right: his ass was itching to be filled; he wiggled his virgin ass wildly, trying to work my tongue further up his chute. I easily slipped one finger in then a second and a third. He went absolutely ape shit with my mouth and fingers working him open. I pulled my fingers out and inspected his wet, gaping hole. He was ready.

I gave his ass a playful slap before I motioned for him to turn around. He spun around again and positioned his upturned ass over my cock. My dick twitched in anticipation. I aimed my tool at his tight virgin ass and let Elliott ease back on it. His face screwed up with pain but he was insistent on getting fucked. I knew I was in when I felt his ass cheeks pressed against my balls. And I could tell by the grimace on his face that it hurt like hell. I sat up and kissed him.

“That’s it baby; you’ve got it all in. Now, just relax.” I kissed him again and gave his ass a firm squeeze.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time, but damn it hurts.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re doing good baby.”

His grimace relaxed, as he slowly grew accustomed to having his rectum stretched to capacity. Then I felt him slowly rocking back and forth, easing my cock in and out of him a little at a time. It must have felt good by the way he was moaning and rolling his eyes. It sure as hell felt good to me. Placing his hands on my chest for support, Elliott lifted his hips until my dick almost slipped out then slammed back down on it. He repeated this a few more times, wiggling his hips in a tight circle after every down stroke. He was fucking himself so hard; it was inevitable that he’d get tired pretty quickly.

“Lie on your side, let me take over for a while.”

Elliott happily obliged: he pulled himself off my dick and slumped down on the bed beside me. I saddle up behind him, lifted his leg and plunged my tool back in his pipe. We both groaned in satisfaction. I savored the feeling of his squishy rectum wrapped around the length of my shaft then started to pump him nice and slow. I kissed him lovingly on the neck and shoulders as I picked up the pace. All the while, he moaned and whined in delight.

He stroked his cock in unison with my fucking. I locked my fingers in his and helped him skin his bone. His moans grew louder and louder. I could tell he was close. I was getting close myself. Soon I felt his ass clamp down on my rod and his cock twitched in our hands. Elliott blew a load twice as big as the last one; and so strong he splattered both of our faces with a few streams of hot spunk. His trembling hole was enough to bring about my own orgasm as I pumped his bowel full of jizz.

We were both spent and fell asleep with my dick and cum still in his ass and his load plastered on our faces and hands. I woke up the next morning with my morning wood firmly crammed in his hole. I contemplated taking him for another test drive but ultimately decided to pull out and take a shower.

Halfway through my shower, he poked his head through the curtain and asked if he could join me. I let him in and we showered, and kissed, and fondled each other. He offered to cook me breakfast and I accepted. We ate in silence; neither one of us was ready to discuss what was on our minds.

“I don’t want you to feel obligated,” he finally said. “I knew going into this that it was just sex. But I want you to know that spending one night with you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I still love you. Probably more than I did before.”

“You’re right, it was just sex, but sex is a pretty powerful force. It can confuse matters or make them clearer. Being with you made me realize how much I really care for you… how much I love you. I guess I was afraid to admit it, but I’d be stupid to deny it.”

“So what now?” he asked, not quite sure what to make of my answer.

I shrugged and grinned. “I don’t know, but I’m not sure we can think of something.”