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Just One More Time, Part 1

by YogalBeara


By YogalBeara

Dale rolled over and licked his lips. The taste of the previous night’s partying had thickened all his senses and caused a bass drum beat in his head. The sight beside him on the bed softened those senses and brought a smile to his face. He’d known Paul since junior lifesaving, through high school, four years of college and varsity sports, and two additional years as roommates. He’d even known Paul in ways most men didn’t get to know each other, but today, as the sun worked beyond his bedroom’s blinds, teasing his soon-to-be ex-roommate’s closed eyes, it was as if he was looking at Paul for the first time, not the last. The other man’s beauty, there in the broken sunlight of the cool Saturday morning, stole his breath.

Paul laid on his side, facing Dale, a disheveled angel with a deep, dark forest of hair covering his most beautiful breasts, in the bunched blankets of the bed. The autumn sun embossed Paul’s chestnut brown hair with patches of pure gold, spinning the rest into shades of amber and deep red. A day’s worth of stubble covered Paul’s defined jaw and a full moustache mostly obliterated his top lip, but there was nothing prickly about the man’s angelic demeanor. His lips were pink, full and soft, and as Dale remembered how good it had felt to kiss them, he was forced to remember that soon Paul would belong to her. Valerie would soon wear his ring. She’d be the one who’d taste his lips and share in the lovemaking Dale had known only with his best friend of twelve years.

Dale inched closer to the other man. The cool, crisp late-September wind blowing outside the apartment building suddenly made him crave the heat of Paul’s body. They’d collapsed on the bed last night, too drunk to do more than get out of their jeans and sneakers. They hadn’t been able to get that good-bye fuck they’d promised each other when Paul decided he wanted a stag party just for two. But now the clock had ticked down. It was the day of Paul’s wedding. If Valerie hadn’t been so damned likable, Dale admitted to himself, he would have hated her.

Glancing at the clock on the stand beside the bed, Dale realized that in seven hours Paul and Valerie would be married. A week after their honeymoon, Paul would be gone, off to New Orleans, 3,000 miles away, where her family and his new job awaited. Dale would be alone, and that last fuck with the only person he’d ever made love to would have been lost in the shuffle of too much ceremony.

He could have started something while Paul slept; the six-foot hunk of snoring dead weight on his bed was mere inches away. It would have been easy enough to slip his hands along Paul’s hairy leg, up into his underwear, freeing cock and balls for a sucking guaranteed to wake his roommate from his coma, maybe even challenge his decision to walk down the aisle. He’d eaten Paul’s hair-encircled manhole enough times to know how much they both enjoyed it first thing in the morning. He could have jacked Paul off, because Dale knew exactly how his best bud liked his nubs sucked and his cock-head teased. He could even have slipped his own sculpted nine-incher between Paul’s furry melon-mounds, opening his sweet ass, wrapping his furry body around Paul, pulling at his chest hair and teasing his delicious nipples.

But all Dale wanted to do was nestle in the aura of heat emanating from Paul’s sleeping body. He loved the feel of Paul’s heavy breaths and the peaceful sound and sight of his hairy chest rising and falling so close to his own. It was then that Dale realized what he had gained in knowing the angel at his side and what would be lost to him by the end of the day when Paul left to lie with someone else. Suddenly, that knowledge made Dale sicker than six rounds of beer and shooters had.

Paul growled and shifted on the bed, spreading his legs so that one stretched over Dale’s. The scratchiness of the other man’s leg hair and the warm, tingly feel of his big, sweat sock–covered feet teased Dale’s hunger. Soon after the clock hit 7 a.m. and the late summer sun had filled the bedroom with all the light it was going to give, Dale reached for the meaty warmth filling Paul’s underwear. He rubbed his hand lightly through the dense fur covering Paul's chest to tease his large, sensitive nipples into quick erections. Paul grunted again. The trace of a smile broke on his face as he stirred toward wakening. Yes, Dale knew how to please him, to touch him and make him feel good. Worming his fingertips into the fly of Paul’s underwear, Dale felt the coarse man hair that cushioned a beautiful set of perfect genitals. Paul’s thickly veined cock with its thick knob came tumbling out of the slit. Dale leaned his head between Paul’s legs to give the cock in his hand a good-morning kiss.

The heady taste of the stiffening cock teased Dale with a thousand memories of all the times over the years that he’d nursed on Paul’s cock, all the times he’d savored its salty heaviness in his mouth. Holding his snoozing bud’s manhood between his lips, Dale wiggled Paul’s balls out and rubbed them over his nose. The sensitive skin, so soft and silky, smelled cleanly of sweat, and Dale nestled in under Paul’s balls, as if they were a favorite blanket or pair of warm socks on a cold day. Soon all this attention had stimulated the rise of a broad eight inches of masculine perfection.

"Mmm…" Dale heard Paul growl. He looked up to see two heavy brown eyes sleepily greet the day. "Oh, m-a-a-an," Paul sighed in his tired voice. He lifted his head and, seeing Dale’s mouth clamped to his pole, said, "Shit, dude--that feels fuckin’ sweet!"

Dale gave a throaty grunt and started sucking at full torque. Paul spread his legs to allow Dale better access, then reached one of his big hands down and, raising his torso, pushed his fingers into the abundant furry growth covering Dale's upper back and shoulders, urging him on.

"That’s it, my man," Paul cooed, his cock rising in upward thrusts on each downward plunge of Dale’s expert mouth. "My hairy bear…my BEST man!"

Dale sucked harder. The words not only reminded him of the desperation of one final morning in their apartment together but also ignited his hunger, his desperation to please his buddy one last time. With each surge of Paul’s cock back over his tongue and down his throat, sending his bull balls ricocheting off Dale’s chin, the salty taste of his buddy’s precum grew heavier in his mouth.

"Aw, man--taste it!" Paul grunted as again he rose up to run his hands over Dale's thickly haired torso. To prolong the moment, even if only briefly, Dale spit out Paul’s contracting manhood and ran his tongue over the hairy, meaty sac of low-hangers that were so full of the reward he’d be given for a blow job well done.

Dale slurped on the wrinkled, hairy skin, sucking on the left, then the right ball, finally accommodating both in his mouth. Once he’d licked Paul’s sac clean, he returned to the straining erection in his hand and pumped the shaft to coax out a flood of precum over the ruby corona. Dale ran his tongue around the bulbous head, stopping long enough to suck on Paul’s cum slit.

Paul groaned and bucked his hard, plump butt up off the bed. His hands were combing and pulling wildly through Dale's body hair. "Suck it, Dale, baby--I’m gonna shoot!"

Needing no more to urge him on, Dale clamped his lips down around Paul’s knob and kept them there. With one hand strumming up and down the shaft, his other combing through Paul’s thick chest hair to finger Paul's erect nipples and his mouth suctioning the head, Paul’s cock toughened, trembled, then spit a scalding shot of sweet cum over Dale’s tongue. Paul growled weakly, sputtering a string of mumbled expletives as Dale swallowed him without hesitation. Once Dale, savoring the taste, had sucked Paul dry, he dragged his wooly body up onto Paul’s until they were face-to-face. Their lips pressed together for wide, desperate kisses; their bodies rubbing, merging the hairiness between them. At one point Dale felt Paul’s tongue probe into his mouth for a taste of his own jism. They were still lip-locked when Paul reached a hand into the front of Dale’s boxers as Dale's hand found Paul's hairy mounds and probed the deep crevice for the puckered prize. The kiss ended, but the two men held each other's hairy bodies in a tight, sexy embrace.

"Your turn," Paul growled. His mouth was so handsome, so wet beneath the thick hair of his upper lip. Dale sighed as he felt Paul slip beneath him, rubbing his hairy chest against Dale’s throbbing genitals and licking and kissing Dale’s thick chest hair. It was thanks, he knew, for having touched and treated him the way he loved it best. Dale looked down as his own underwear was tugged off and the warm, electric feel of a familiar hand and mouth on the head of his rod caused him to tremble. He lifted one leg, allowing Paul to free him fully from his boxer shorts. From there they settled into a push-up position, with Dale's massive manhood over Paul’s mouth. This forced Dale to the head of the bed, where his own reflection swam in the glass of the bedroom window. Dale studied his own heavily-browed eyes, the stubby goatee and full mustache ringing his mouth, his dark brown hair, and heavily-furred torso, heaving up and down as Paul slowly, expertly swallowed the thick, hard nine-inch cock to its hairy base.

There was something incredible in the image, the sight of his cock thrusting into his friend’s mouth, the sensation of getting sucked off by the one man who’d ever gotten to know and love Dale’s dick. Then Dale folded his hirsute body over Paul, the fingers of one hand coddling Paul's nuts, the other wiggling its pointer into the hairy crack to probe his sweet, puckered hole. Paul reacted to the pressure by sucking Dale's cock harder. Then Dale pulled his cock out of Paul's sweet mouth and moved between his legs to nuzzle beneath his balls and lick the tight, tense knot of Paul's delicious man-cunt. From there Dale rose up, dragging his hairy body against Paul's and coming to rest on top of Paul with his rigid cock pushing against the puckered ring. Seeing Paul’s face reflected in the window beside his own conjured a ghostly image in the glass for Dale.

"One last time," Dale growled. "Let me do it, man, one last time…"

Paul nodded as he arched against Dale's hairy, butch body. He pushed down into position, until his spit-slicked hole was lined up with Dale's throbbing shaft. Lifting Paul's handsome legs into position above his hairy breasts, Dale licked at Paul's erect and throbbing nipples. As the thick man-meat pushed past his tight anal ring, Paul shoved back. Dale eased in, Paul's spit on his engorged cock providing enough lubrication to make the thrust only mildly uncomfortable. Once he was in, the hot, comforting feel of being filled with Dale's butch dick brought a smile to Paul's whole face. Dale began to kiss his lips, his eyes and his face passionately between mutterings of his everlasting love.

Paul was kissing him back with the same passion, arching and writhing his hairy body against Dale’s hirsute masculinity. He wrapped his arms tightly around Dale's body and tangled his fingers through the back hair, grabbing the hairy shoulders and looking deeply into Dale's moist eyes. Squeezing his anal ring around Dale's deeply penetrating cock, he smiled broadly, pushed his fingers deep into the dense hair of Dale’s chest and kissed Dale's mouth deeply and hungrily.

With that Dale reached down and groped Paul's cum-slick cock. Steadied by the dribbling hard-on in his hand, he shoved his rod in, pulled back, then pushed in again, settling into a steady, deep fuck rhythm. Paul groaned loudly and smiled. The pressure of Dale's massive cock massaging the inside of his tightly clenching chute made his own cock regain full erection; Dale's cock seemed to penetrate deeper with each of his friend’s thrusts. Each stab of his butch stud's thick nine-incher pushed him closer to shooting his second load of the morning.

"I mean it, dude. I’ll… always… fuckin’… love… you--"

Paul muttered something unintelligible through his clenched teeth. It wasn’t that he didn’t want again to promise Dale the same. He fervently loved the man whose cock was grinding into him. But he knew that if he said it, the words would make him cum, and he wanted to prolong his ejaculation to time it with Dale's. He tried to hold on, to keep it going. He also knew it wouldn’t keep going. They’d done this too many times for him not to know when it would happen.

Dale pushed in again. Paul felt the other man’s cock growing tense. Dale was readying to shoot.

"Aw, shit--!" Paul howled. "I love you, Dale. Oh god, I REALLY LOVE YOU!"

Just as the hot ooze painted his insides with the last load Dale would ever leave there, Paul came in Dale's hand. Paul repeated the promise, only to have the words silenced when Dale brought his wet fingers up to his lips. Paul ate his own load, and with Dale's spent cock still throbbing wildly inside him, they kissed with their hairy bodies wrapped in a tight embrace.

As the clock hit 9 a.m., the alarm went off. It was time to get ready, time to give the groom away.

Paul emerged fresh from the shower, his square jaw perfectly shaved, his hair in place, looking like a million bucks in his sharp black tux.

"Damn, you’re a handsome stud," Dale said, helping Paul on with his tie. "Ring?"

"Check," Paul said, patting his front pocket.

"Cock?" Dale asked, and Paul chuckled. Dale brought a hand over the front of the other man’s dress pants but didn’t let it linger. "Yeah, you got that." Dale faced the clock. "Limo’ll be out front in an hour."

"Time to get married," Paul said. He took a deep breath, held it, then slowly let it out. "I’m really gonna miss you, guy," he whispered.

Dale forced a smile, but it was only for Paul’s benefit. "You’ll do just fine. Me too."

Suddenly he had the overwhelming urge to kiss those full, fat lips. Paul must have needed it too, one last time, because he met him halfway. There, so merged together, Dale realized his best buddy’s mouth tasted of toothpaste, not man sex. He was groomed and polished, not all fuzzy and natural anymore. The kiss ended, and Dale finally accepted that Paul was somebody else now. He was also somebody else’s.

But even though Valerie was now Paul’s new best girl, Dale knew in his heart that he’d always be Paul's best man.

To be continued…

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7 Gay Erotic Stories from YogalBeara

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Just One More Time, Part 1

By YogalBeara Dale rolled over and licked his lips. The taste of the previous night’s partying had thickened all his senses and caused a bass drum beat in his head. The sight beside him on the bed softened those senses and brought a smile to his face. He’d known Paul since junior lifesaving, through high school, four years of college and varsity sports, and two additional years as roommates.

Just One More Time, Part 2

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