Right Time, Right Place...

"Don't swallow," I heard him. Then his mouth was on mine, lips hot, hard, open, what he had in his mouth being put into mine, what was in mine being put into his. Then both of us swallowing, and swallowing again, the taste and feel of it lingering, caustic. Then his hands holding my head to his, mine holding his head to mine, tongues eagerly exchanging what remained, savouring it, then swallowing again.

We broke. "Whoa," I heard him. "Too much."

'Too much is right,' I said to myself, pulling his whole body into mine, holding him tight, our mouths together again.

"Too fucking much," he said when we broke again. His palm was on my chest, and inside I could feel what we had swallowed warm, and the warmth spreading. I put my palm to his chest, sure that I could feel it warm inside him, and the warmth likewise spreading.

"Too fucking much," I concurred, and we both pulled each other close, holding each other chest to chest, belly to belly.

He had his hand on my balls, gently working them, and I took his, velvety smooth, in my hand, working them. "Too fucking much," he kept repeating.

"Tell me, friend, your wife ever do that to you?" he was asking.

'Whoa,' I thought, that was hitting below the belt. We, both of us, in all the years knowing each other, had forever steered away from any questions about our marital life, figuring maybe it was just something best not talked about.

Now. "Okay," I replied, "Disclosure. No, she didn't. You gotta understand when we were married, it got to be more or less a threesome, - me, and her, and her girlfriend, - and I was really odd man out. And, no, just for the record, I wasn't boffing the girlfriend. A three-way is not my idea of a good time. So, yeah, once, she said she would suck it, but first she wanted her girlfriend to do me while she watched. Put me off. Put me right off. After that, well, that's when I kinda got kicked to the curb."

"Bummer," he replied.

"Your's?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah," he replied, "Oh, yeah. When we were first married. And I would go down on her."

He was smiling to himself. "Something else," he mused. Then, wistfully, "Then things changed. And, one thing after another, and, well, you know. Learned to live without it. Forgot, - no, never forgot really what it was like."

He continued, "You ever suck dick before?"

"No," I shot back, truthfully, but maybe a little too forcefully.

"Because you're good. Better than my wife. And she was good,"

Okay. It was a compliment. But I didn't know how to deal with it. I spluttered some sort of response. Not a thank you, but not not a thank you.

"Didn't realize how much I actually missed it. Until now," he said, then said again, "You're good."

"So are you," I said, when I finally got my tongue untied, adding "I think. Seeing as how I have never been sucked before."

He continued to play with my balls, squeezing then, gently.

"You like?" he asked.

"I like. Yeah, I like!" I replied.

Silence. I reciprocated, my hand in his crotch kneading his balls and enjoying the feel of them. Firm but not hard. Globular. Egg-shaped. And I knew he was enjoying it as much as I was.

"All this time. All these years ..," I heard him saying, " .. where have we been, and what have we been doing, all these years?"

"Holy cow," I thought, realizing what he was saying. 'Holy cow,' I thought, now suddenly realizing I was thinking the same thing. 'Twenty years .. when all the time if only we had realized .. if only ..'

Then, abruptly, he said, "Know what I want?"

"Hmmnh? What?" I asked.

He had his hand now between my legs, his finger reaching beyond my balls.

"I want your ass." Slow, deliberate, precise. He continued, "I want to fuck you. I want you to fuck me. I want my dick way up in your ass. And I want your dick way up in my ass. I want to know you from the inside out. I want you knowing me from the inside out."

"Holy fuck," I blurted out.

Suddenly, I wanted his ass. I wanted to fuck him. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted my dick way up in his ass, and I wanted his dick way up in my ass. I wanted to know him, like he said, from the inside out. I wanted him knowing me from the inside out. My dick probing him deep inside. Him, his dick, probing deep inside me.

There was a moment's hesitation, then he asked, "You good for it?"

My guts tightened.

Then, "I'm good for it," I said. I was good for it. More than good for it.

"Mine for yours?" he continued.

"Mine for yours," I replied.

"Then, if you want it, you're going to have to take it," he said, joking, and flipped, like he was trying to pin me to the bed.

Instead we ended up grappling on the floor, all arms and legs.

'Two grown men,' I thought to myself, 'fighting for who's going to get into whom first.'

I thought he had me, then I, somehow, got my arm under his knee and was pulling his leg up, and there it was - my hard-on touching his hole.

"Touchdown," I said.

"Touchdown" he conceded.

"On your back," I said, "belly to belly. I want to see you looking at me."

He lay back on the bed. I opened his legs, and reached into his crack, fingering for his point of entry, finding it, puckered, closed tight, guiding my hard-on to touch it. I put my hand to my mouth, spat a wad into it, then slathered it between his legs. I spat another wad into my hand, and lubed my head. He spat a wad into his hand, and slathered it between his legs.

He was pushing hard against me. I was pushing hard against him.

He began rocking his hips, trying to get me in. I began rocking my hips with him. I could feel my head against his pucker. It was not giving.

Later, we would know to do a little finger-fucking to get things opened up. But then, no foreplay. Right to it.

I kept it there as he rocked back and forth. Another slather of spit. He rubbed his hand around my head, and I had to groan. He was holding my cock to his opening, his hips pushing it up hard.

In the half-light I could see his eyes were open wide, looking at me. It was a look of, what, - anticipation. Anticipating hurt. Anticipating pleasure. Wanting whatever was about to happen.

I licked my finger, and circled his hole. I heard him suck in a deep breath, hold it, then exhale, forcing the air out. And just as he began to exhale, almost imperceptibly, I could feel him opening. He was pushing hard against me. I was pushing against him. Harder. And harder. He took in another breath, released it, and I felt him opening now. I heard him yelp, quick, short, a sound of hurting, yielding, and I was in. My head. Just my head. But I was in him.

'Fuck,' I exclaimed to myself, 'I'm in him.' Repeating. 'I'm in him.' 'Him, my best friend. Him with all those beautiful muscles. This beautiful person. That beautiful voice. My mate. Mine. Mine for the taking.'

Exaltation. Jubilation. 'I'm in him.' 'My mate.' 'Mine.'

"Holy Fuck," I said aloud. "Holy Fuck."

He had both hands on my ass pulling me to him, grinding his ass around me now even harder, the muscles in his asshole working to pull me in further.

"Oh, man," I heard him, and repeating it. "Oh, man." In his voice, hurting. Pain. Still his hands on my ass pulling me to him. No progress. Then, writhing beneath me, 'Too much. It's too much. Oh, man, you're big. You're fucking big. It's hurting, really hurting me." His hands were still on my ass pulling me to him.

He changed position, my cock still at his ass. "Oh, man," he was moaning, "I want you, but, man, you're big. You are one fucking big dude." "Fuck," he said, 'Fuck. Fuck. I want you .."

Then he was grunting, long and hard, guttural, and I felt him pushing down, - I'm thinking, 'Geez, he's going to burst a blood vessel,' - then more grunting, moaning, long, agonized. And, writhing around my dick head, slowly, slowly, slowly, I could feel his asshole yielding to me.

Another groan, urgent, prolonged, more pushing, and more pushing from me, and I could feel his asshole opening, ever so slightly. Tight. Really tight.

Another groan, and another, and another, and still there was no yielding. "Oh,man. Oh, man. Oh, man," he kept saying.

"You want me to pull back?" I asked.

"No! No. No, no," he said. "Don't stop. Don't stop." he said.

Then he was pushing, hard, with one, long, wordless sound that seemed to go on forever, and I knew, I felt, stretched beyond stretching, he was was letting me in. Not in him yet, but tight, in his sphincter. The sound ended. I reached between our legs, felt for my dick at his asshole. I reached up to my mouth, spat on my fingers again, and rolled them around my dick. He pushed again, hard, and I pushed, that sound again from deep in his throat, then, harder, intensifying, pushing hard like he was pushing out a big one, and suddenly, his asshole was yielding, and,slowly, slowly, slowly, I was into him, further, and further, and further, I could feel I was coming into him.

"Holy Fuck," I said again. And again. "Holy Fuck," I was through his sphincter, into him, totally.

Then he let go of the rest of the sound. "Fuck," he was saying, and kept repeating it. "Fuck. Fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Man, you are big."

He did not move, and I just lay there, in him, and knowing I was in him.

"Oh, man," he was saying, "I was figuring it was going to hurt, but fuck. Oh, fuck."

I pulled back slightly. "Don't move," he said, "just lay still."

"Oh, man," he repeated, "You're one big dude. You are one big dude. I like this. I'm liking this. Just stay where you are."

I lay my cheek on his chest, savouring what I was feeling. What I was thinking. I reached round him, my two hands pressed into his belly, thinking, 'I'm in there.' 'Way up in there.'

More than just his belly, it was like I was in him in every muscle in his body, in every cell in his body, in the very fibre of his being. And it was like I could feel him in every muscle in my body, in every cell in my body, in the very core of my being. A whole new world. A whole new dimension. 'Holy Fuck,' I said in my thoughts trying to get my head around it.

I touched up against another barrier. He stiffened. I obviously had hit on something that hurt. But his hands kept pulling my ass into him, harder, and his asshole kept squeezing on me, pulling me even further in. I pushed, holding myself to this barrier, and slowly it too yielded - I could hear him moan - and I was in, deep. I felt for his asshole, fingering my cock where it was in him, measuring how deep I was in. Fuck. only a finger's breadth between his asshole and my pubes. I was in, deep. Very deep.

We lay there, neither of us moving. He was moaning, 'You're so big. You're so big."

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, "I'm okay. More than okay. Fuck, you're so big. Like I want more, but I can't take any more. Like you've got me stretched to my limit. Way beyond my limit."

I felt his ass muscles working around me. I was pushing to go deeper. I heard him groan, not so much a groan, but something more guttural, visceral. His muscles were yielding, then tightening. The sound again. I pushed. And I heard him. The sound again, this time from deep in his belly, this time protesting. Then his muscles were pushing against me, wanting me out, squeezing me out. Back through the channel. The barriers closing behind me. Then I was out of him.

"You're okay?" I asked him again. Urgently.

"I'm okay," he said. Then, "Oh, man, you're big. You're so fucking big".

My cock was still in his ass-crack. I reached in and fingered his asshole.

He winced. "Whoa," he said, "Tender. Very tender."

"Mission aborted?"

He snorted. "Fuck no! Just give me a minute 'til my guts get themselves sorted out."

My belly to his belly, I hugged him, tight, holding those beautiful muscles to me. 'Mine,' I thought, 'Mine, for just a moment maybe, but mine. For the taking. Unbelievable.'

We lay there, him holding me to him, me holding him to me, his asshole pulsing, opening and closing.

Between us I could feel his hard on, iron rod hard.

And I wanted it, hard, in my ass. I rolled off him onto my back.

"Mine for yours," I said. I spat a wad into my hand, and smeared his head. Then another, going down his shaft.

"Fuck," he snorted. "You're sure you want it?" he teased.

"Fuck you," I said, facetiously.

"No," he said, "fuck you. I'm gonna fuck you. Mine for yours it is. You think you're big ...!"

He straddled me, push up position. He spat into his hand again and smeared my asshole. Twice. Then guided his hard on to where I was going to let him in. I felt his head touching it. I grabbed his ass pulling him to me, hard, knowing, but not knowing what was coming. He was pushing against my asshole. I pushed my hips up to help him. He was pushing, but there was no way my asshole was going to yield to him.

"Just keep it there. Keep pushing," I told him. I tried flexing my anus to get it to open. He kept pushing against it. Hard.

"Relax," he said, "just take it easy."

Nothing. I couldn't remember him being this unyielding. He slathered another wad of spit onto it. I could feel his finger probing, into my anus, working it to open. Then his dick again. I tightened up even further. I began humping my hips, then grinding them round him. Still nothing. If anything more unyielding.

"Deep breath," he said. "Deep breath." I took a deep breath. And just as I filled my lungs to hold it, I felt him enter. "Holy Fuck', he is in me.' The realization of him being inside me swept through me, like a charge of electricity.

Then I felt him reach the sphincter into my rectum, a sharp jolt as he pushed against it. Repeated sharp jolts as he pulled back then pushed again. My hands went to his hips, pushing against him, wanting him to go slow. Deep breaths. Deep breath and holding it. Then pushing down on him, hard, hurting, - hurting beyond belief, - the muscles around the ring stretched, and stretched beyond what I ever thought they could be. Then, just as I was beginning to think I would have to ask him to stop, suddenly I could feel the muscle yielding, - a break through - his hard-on pushing through, entering me, slowly, half-inch by half-inch, penetrating me, huge, and hard, into my rectum, filling it. More than filling it.

"Fuck," I said, and kept repeating it, "Fuck." "Oh, fuck."

"You're okay?" he wanted to know.

"Mmmm, fuck, yeah," I said, "more than okay." 'Oh, man, I'm loving this,' I thought to myself.

I reached round to where I could feel his cock in my anus. I measured three fingers. Three fingers more. I wanted it all.

I began squeezing, working to draw him further and further in, at the same time thrusting up my hips up to him - the muscle hurting, on the point of being able to take no more, ignoring it to push against him, wanting him in deep. Hurting again, the muscle stretching till it was like I couldn't take it any more, at the same time, wanting to accommodate him, him inching slowly into me. Fuck it hurt. Fuck I wanted him. I took his hand and put his palm on my belly so he could feel himself in me. 'Oh, man, I'm loving this,' I thought to myself again, then I said it aloud.

"Oh, man, I'm loving this."

"You're not the only one," he said. He began grinding his hips into mine, going deeper and deeper, pulling back slightly then thrusting again, deeper still, filling me, like I never felt so filled in all my life.

The hurting was now pleasure, pure physical pleasure, just like when I was in him, every cell in my body vibrating. And more than that, just like when I was in him, he was in every cell in my body, in the very fibre of my being. 'Way too much,' I was saying to myself. Then I said it aloud.

"Way too much."

"Whaat?"

"I said this is way too much. Way too fucking much. That's one helluva unit you've got, and much more of it, it's gonna tear me wide open. And it's hurting like hell, and I am enjoying every inch of it."

"You like, eh?" he said, playfully, and thrust himself in deeper.

"Oh, fuck, do I like."

Then, deep inside, he hit on something that felt way up in my solar plexus, sharp and not so much painful but a warning that it could be very painful; that there was danger in proceeding further; that maybe the game was over and I had better get him out of here. My guts started churning, wave after wave working at expelling him from my rectum.

"Easy. Easy," he said, "Deep breaths. Take deep breaths."

I took in a deep breath. Then slowly exhaled. Another, exhaling again.

He lay perfectly still, still in me, but not moving.

"Too much?" he asked.

"Yeah. Whatever you hit there .."

"Sorry," he apologized. "We'll give it a rest."

He had his arms around me, holding us chest to chest.

Then, slowly, I began to feel him rotating his pelvis around where he had me. Slowly, setting up a roll. I began to roll with him. Slowly. Then circling wider I could feel he was exploring me, on the inside. Thrusting, in and out. And each thrust finding a new pleasure spot. "Yes. There," I heard myself, 'Give it to me." "Give it to me, there." "There." Again." "Yes." "Yes'", I heard myself saying, "All of it, I want you to give me all of it."

Slowly, setting up a momentum, matching his rhythm. I began rolling with him. Then we were rocking. Rocking and rolling. 'Oh, man,' I was thinking, 'this is too good. Too good.'

I heard myself moan. Then his mouth was on mine, mine searching his, hungry, wanting it, wanting it bad.

Then somewhere down near my pubic bone he hit on something that sent a shudder through me, and everywhere, indescribable pleasure, like fireworks, giant chrysanthemums exploding, my whole self exploding.

"Oh, oh, oh," I was moaning. Ecstasy. He hit it again. Again fireworks, chrysanthemums, double chrysanthemums, red, blue, white, purple gold, repeating and repeating, trailing stars. Again. Ecstasy. Higher and higher.

In my ear his voice was saying, "You like?"

"I like," I am saying, "I like!" Emphatically.

Then our mouths merged, pressed together. I was frenzied wanting more. More of his mouth. More of what he was doing to me in my belly.

The rhythm of his thrusts was changing, now short, quick, deeper, like he was swelling in me. 'He's coming,' I thought. I am moaning in his ear. "I want it," I am saying. "I want you."

I am rocking with him, drawing him further and further into me with each thrust, beyond the point of hurt, hurting that has become pleasure. Pure pleasure. And each time, hitting up against whatever it was - my prostate - firing off those chrysanthemums of sheer ecstasy

I can hear him grunting, thrusting. Then one prolonged thrust, and another, way deep into my guts, his, my muscles tensing. Then one prolonged thrust, longer, deeper than those before, and the release. Flooding into me. The warmth of it spreading through me. Surrendering to it. Surrendering to the moment. Me, surrendering to him. Body and soul, surrendering, yielding myself to him. And I can feel him yielding, surrendering to what was happening between us, the very essence of himself being transferred from him to me. I feel it. His living matter. Deep within my belly. A fusion of himself with myself, radiating through me, then flipping, positive for negative, negative for positive, in cosmic wave after cosmic wave.

A shudder, surging through both of us.

Then him, expelling his breath, muscle after muscle relaxing, his whole being dispelling the last of its energies.

"Holy fuck," he said, "Ho-ly fuck!"

"Ho-ly fuck!" I repeated after him.

We were wrapped around each other, legs intertwined with legs, arms holding us together, belly to belly. Him in my belly.

"Holy fuck," he said again, "Ho-ly fuck!"

And I repeated after him, "Ho-ly fuck!"

Him in me. The whole length and breadth of him. And for how much it might have started out hurting, out of the pain, pleasure. Pure, undeniable pleasure. And deep inside, way deep inside my primal folds, accepting the living matter he had shot into me, the his essential self, him within me. And knowing it was there. Holy fuck. Joy, indescribable joy. Ecstasy.