The Carny Pt. 08

"I'll bet he found somebody...somebody big, strong, full of kindness...somebody who makes him think of you...every day," I said as I laid my head on his chest and dug my fingers into his powerful shoulders.

"I hope so," he sighed.

"Do I make you think of him?"

"No," he said, lighting up the room with his smile, "you're a confident, strapping thing...a man...not some frail, defenseless boy."

He pulled his finger out of my ass and started caressing my buttocks.

"A man...but with a heart just as tender and a love every bit as sincere as his...everything I've ever wanted or could ask for," he sighed.

He kissed me in a way that let me know in no uncertain terms he meant every word. I clung to him as tightly as I could and let him fill me with a joy that left me wanting for nothing.

Soon I felt the head of his hard-on nudging my balls. I reached a hand back and played my fingers over it. He sighed and pressed me to him.

"MY man!" he declared, his deep voice full of contentment.

I was - completely. There was nothing else I wanted to be from that moment on.

"Make love to me," I urged him.

He grabbed a butt cheek in each hand and squeezed hard, painfully digging his fingers into them.

"You know I will," he avowed in a husky growl

It was the start of a day of sex I'll remember the rest of my life. The love we made was intense and boundless, the most special it had ever been.

We filled each other with our seed till our balls ached from the strain of coming. When we weren't fucking and sucking, let's just call it what it was, we were playing our hands over each other.

He cinched the expanding patches of hair on my chest and belly between his sausage-like fingers and cooed as though I were as luxuriously endowed with the stuff as he.

The boyhood I had inhabited the night I first threw my duffle bag in his truck became little more than a distant memory in his strong, loving hands.

I chewed and sucked his big, rugged looking nipples with unbridled passion. We kissed and groped and sucked each other's balls, fingering each other's well-worn chute with abandon.

Sometimes we just cuddled in each other's arms. Each passing moment was more ecstatically erotic than the one that came before.

I was at last completely comfortable in my own masculinity, my own manhood. Never again did I feel eclipsed and never again did I doubt the image he held of me in his mind.

We were two men...two men deeply and hopelessly in love.