I stayed inside him a little longer before pulling out. Then pressed my fingers against his hole. It was very wet. Not just from spit but from cum.
There are times when I impress even myself. I always cum a goodly amount if I get to fuck an ass. But sometimes, it’s massive. Based on the sensation, this was massive.
I have devious thoughts and now I had them. As I’m pushing my gooey cum inside him, it would just take a little scratch from a fingernail to make sure my DNA is completely absorbed inside him.
But I don’t.
I pull my fingers out and go in for a lick. I can’t resist that hole. Generally, I don’t like the taste of my own cum. Anyone else’s is delicious but my own just isn’t that tasty.
I pull him up and kiss him deeply so he can savor my cum and his ass. He goes in for some cocksucking too and we kiss some more.
I’m usually pulling on my pants by now but I just want to… um… what is that shit called when you kind of hug on someone for a little while? Huddle? No that’s a football thing. Oh, it’s cuddle.
No, I don’t want to cuddle.
As we sit in this dimly lit room and I continue to touch his body, we talk. We discuss a little sex and I probe to try and get details on his life.
Not really happening. He shields himself.
And that’s when I notice.
For all his perfection. From the perfect body and gorgeous silky smooth skin. His high-priced haircut and designer jeans. The perfection of everything. For all that, I look into his gorgeous brown eyes and I see…
You’ve heard people say they could get lost in someone’s eyes. In his, I could get hopelessly lost in a kind of limbo. It’s not a good place to be.
This body of perfection had perfected a way to hide everything… even his soul.
* * *
‘He’s still really hot.’
‘Just put your pants on and get the fuck out,’ the other voice says.
‘No,’ the first responds. ‘He’s hot. In a minute, we can fuck again.’
‘Can’t you see, he’s not even interested.’
‘Well I am.’
‘No you’re not!’
* * *
I’ve always had a way of looking at people and piercing beyond that initial layer of protection. With some men, if they’ll look at me, there comes a moment when I can see into who they are and know their desire. They will know that I know. I know they love cock. I will know they desire men.
That’s fucking scary to the closeted men. And the South is covered up with them.
It’s also exhilarating. It gives me an advantage. I can go places that aren’t technically cruising spots and find ass. I have to work for it. But I can get it.
But with him, piercing through the first layer finds nothing to plunge into. It’s as if I’ve entered blackness. A hopeless space. I have no advantage. He holds the cards.
In this place, I am lost how to proceed. As the voices inside me argue as to how to proceed, I stumble through some small talk. I can usually charm men and manipulate them. Him, I cannot foresee how to capture my goal.
* * *
‘What’s your fucking goal? You already bred him!’
‘I want him again. And again. And again.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! You don’t do boyfriends!’
‘Who says we don’t?’
* * *
He expressed a desire for more cock and cum, but as much as I wanted to just swing the door open and let anyone in, the challenge became regulating just who would fuck him. While a slut for sure, this boy did have some level of taste and wanted to be a little picky about who fucked him.
As we began putting clothes on, he stood and bent over. His ass in my face. I couldn’t resist and went in for a kiss. Then a lick. And then, before I knew it, my cock was inside him again, fucking.
This time, I shut down the voices and just concentrated on the fucking. If I were to muster a second load in such a short period, I would need concentration.
Concentration and poppers.
I got them and took a big huff waiting for the effect to take hold. And then I closed my eyes.
When I fuck guys, something I just focus on the sensation. Sometimes I visualize fucking other guys so I can cum.
I just thought about who I was fucking and it happened again.
The boiling in my balls, but this time, the surge came without the pain and a bit less intensity. And less volume since I didn’t give it enough time to recover.
“Fuck!” I said. “There’s load number two!”
He moaned and I pulled out, my cock slicked with two loads of cum now. He greedily licked them off and we got back to dressing.
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- behind dead eyes by markbentson part two (1)