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Looking Back—Gay Sex Driven, Part 06

by Dead serious


Blake kept the air conditioning off in the room, so we both just slept naked without the bed covers. During the night the room got a bit stuffy, which only served to intensify the lingering smells of sex. I was still comfortable enough to wake, take in the smells, and then nod off again when Blake stirred. We wound up spooning each other, so in short order we were sticky and sweaty front and backside.

Blake and I slept in a bit, waking around 8:30 the next morning. Actually Blake pretty much woke me up. I was curled around his backside and as is most always the case, I had my usual morning hardon. The issue was hardly wasted on Blake. He subtly positioned his ass and maneuvered enough to guide me on target. Then he simply pushed backwards and my dick shot right in. I immediately was wide awake and once I’d figured out what was happening, I didn’t disappoint him. What a way to greet the morning!

Blake was still well lubricated, but there was a bit more friction due to a lesser amount of Crisco I guess. He felt wonderful and it was clear to me that he was enjoying himself. After a few minutes, I had to slow up a bit—otherwise I’d blow. He sensed this and pulled off me. He pushed me flat on my back, then crawled up facing me and just sat straight down on my prick. It was wonderful…he rocked and bobbed up and down on my shaft, coming completely off it, then just plopping straight down on it, burying it to the hilt. It was a real turn on to watch the expression on his face as he did this. His eyelids would nearly close and his eyes were glassy and rolling back. He was huffing and breathing rhythmically through his mouth—ohhhing and ahhhhing alternately. His hands never touched his one-eyed monster…it bobbed up and down, frequently slapping against my abdomen on the down stroke.

I could not sustain this very long and soon I just let go. He must have felt my dick’s tension and the fluid rush, as his own meat just started shooting at me. His cum shot at me hitting me on the chin and chest, successive shots on my stomach. He never once touched the THANG. When we were both expended, he reached forward and scooped a handful of his cum from my chest and stomach, drew it up, sucked most of it into his mouth, then took the remainder in his hand and applied it to his face like some sort of cold cream. Then he bent forward to share it with me.

Just then housekeeping knocked on the door, announcing so, before trying the door before we could answer. Thankfully it was security locked. Blake thought quickly, telling her to not bother making up the room today, he was going to be working and didn’t want to bother. We laid together for a few more minutes, but morning hunger too over, so we showered and went for breakfast.

Blake came up on the idea to take the bedspread (beyond a mess) and put it in one of the laundry bags, and run it by a Laundromat. One problem resolved. I left him and headed home after we had breakfast and Blake tackled our dirty laundry. Don’t think housekeeping was ever the wiser.

I saw Blake two more times—not quite as wild as the first time—but not what you would remotely call tame either—before he finished his school interviews and headed back to Oklahoma. I’m not sure whether I had a hand in it, but he decided to attend AIB, or what ever it was called back then, and within a month moved back.

I had a college friend that wanted to get out of his apartment lease and move in with his girlfriend in order to save money (bullshit). Blake was not able to sublet, but he just moved in anyway and paid my friend cash—landlord none the wiser. Also with university sophomore year back in full swing, I had a bevy of excuses to make myself scarce on the home front.

Blake and I made amazing use of our time together. I can honestly say that our friendship didn’t entirely revolve around sex…MOSTLY but not entirely—I swear! I was finding it hard to budget enough time for study…and about 9 weeks into term I got a rude reminder of this (bummer test results), so swore I’d re-apply myself and stick to my studies—and Blake of course. The following week was even more of a bummer…Blake got a call routed through his school; (he didn’t dare have a phone due to the apartment “arrangement”) his father had had some sort of heart attack—his second one—which was apparently serious.

Within the week, Blake bailed out of school and left for home to run their ranch’s cattle operation. (Don’t think he was cut out to be a banker anyway) We spoke a few times, kept in touch for most of the rest of that year, but eventually the contacts were few and far between…then sort of vanished. I never saw him again.

So much for the big one that got away… No regrets…futile to wish…but will always wonder…what if…


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