1 comments/ 10760 views/ 3 favorites Adored By: Azhyre He massaged the back of her neck gently and she looked up at him, offering her lips for a kiss. His warm mouth pressed down over hers, and she smiled contentedly, her tongue sliding out to stroke over his lips. She felt like her body was humming as she savoured the silky wetness he pressed against her, and the warmth of his body around her. Kissing him was like being drunk, she thought – you closed your eyes and the room span, and it didn't stop spinning 'til you opened them. She nuzzled the side of his face, the stubble scratching her nose and lips roughly, and she slid her hand between the buttons of his shirt, stroking the silky skin of his tummy. She loved his tummy best of all of him, and couldn't help but touch it whenever she could. Every inch of him made her burn, and it was all she could do not to worship his body. To most people he seemed unprepossessing, but they didn't know him. She knew the feel of his skin, the warmth and scent of him, and it intoxicated her. She held his head with her hand and pressed his cheek to hers, intimately, her heart filling with some feeling she couldn't name. She closed her eyes blissfully, moving her head so he moved with her, and slid forward to press her lips to the cool shell of his ear. She buried her nose just underneath his ear, in his curls, and inhaled deeply, the smell of his shampoo making her warm inside. She was almost ashamed of needing to touch him this much. She touched his lips with her thumb, tracing their outline, pressing them gently as though to test their firmness. Her thumb followed the journey of her mouth, rubbing the stubble along his jawline, toying with his earlobe, and coming to rest on the pulse in his neck. She leaned in and kissed him again, swiftly, unable to resist the cushion of his lips. She smoothed her lips down his neck, and pressed her face against the bowl of his shoulder, in the warmth. She turned her head to the side, so her lips rested gently against the muscles in his arm, the smooth pale skin warm against her. Her hand slid back down to his tummy, flattening against his muscles, holding him for a moment, and then turning to smooth down his skin with her knuckles. She stroked him that way, savoring the feel of him on the backs of her fingers, the warmth and the softness. She could worship this part of him. She caught the word on her mind, and it resonated within her. That was what this was, worship- this heavy and languid exploration of his body. Impulsively her hand reached up and scrunched in his curls, the silky strands sliding between her fingers. She touched his jaw and slid down his body to press her face against his tummy, her nose buried in his navel. Her two hands rested on the curved bones of his hips, as she rubbed her cheek against the smoothness of his belly, his silky erectness brushing her chin. Her mouth watered, and she kissed his belly just before his curls started, sliding her tongue across the golden line. She pressed her cheek to his inner thigh, her nose buried in his hair, her tongue peeking out to lick the crease where his thigh ended. Her thumbs rested on his stomach, caressing him, holding onto the intoxication of him for all she was worth. She felt as though he had her under a spell, the way she was pressing herself against him. She buried her face in his pubes once more, inhaling the musky scent of him, before deliciously sucking the head of his cock into her mouth. She moaned, the silky weight of him inside her, the taste of him making her head spin. The rough pad of her tongue slid down the underside of his shaft, his head bumping the back of her throat as she swallowed around him. She sucked the salty droplets out of him, aroused herself, wondering if he wanted to taste her own salty fluid. Wishing she could never do anything but this. Her hands stroked his stomach almost manically, pressing and turning with her knuckles almost uncontrollably, as though she was easing the warmth from his skin. She pressed down with his cock inside her mouth, until her chin and nose were buried in his pubes, and she paused there, swallowing reflexively around his cock, inhaling him, savouring the feel of his muscles tensing beneath her hands. She stopped sucking for a moment to press her face against the crease of his inner thigh again, the golden hairs tickling her nose and cheek. Her hands finally reached to cradle the weight of him, and she slid her tongue around his head and underneath his foreskin, her lips closing firmly around the silky weight of him. She sucked, her tongue swirling, thinking that nothing had ever tasted so sweet, so true, so much like the reason for her existence. It was a drug, it was intoxicating, it took her away from the level headed life she usually led. Everything in the world should be like this, she thought, some sort of esoteric sexual experience that in its own way was religious. If religion was like this everyone would want a god. She moaned, her movements growing more frantic, her tongue eager on him, her own sex writhing in response. She shivered and whimpered around him, the warmth and scent and taste overwhelming her, she was sure she was going to pass out. She wasn't sure it mattered anymore, as long as she had him inside her. She sucked and licked and tasted, savouring and enjoying, delighting in the feel of him twitching in her mouth, knowing his balls were drawing in close to his body. She thrust one hand down to her sex, sliding two fingers in roughly, curving them up, her mouth working on him. She sucked and thrust hurriedly, eagerly, feeling herself start to come and whimper around his cock, his seed shooting in her mouth, salty and tang all at once. She swallowed, her whole body shuddering, the taste of him filling her brain and her body. Adoring a Heavy Guy Bob was about 45 years old when Irma had left him. Now 55, Bob felt he had been a good husband: He had no secret life, and never cheated on Irma with another woman. Nevertheless, Bob had made the supreme mistake of sharing the truth of his secret desires with Irma: He told her how he was aroused by her body, but yes, also by men's bodies as well. Bob told her how he had felt that arousal as long as he could remember. Upon hearing Bob's revelation, Irma was at first complacent, thinking it was only a phase Bob was experiencing (a "midlife crisis" she called it). But she filed it away in her mind, and eventually, Bob's soulful admission (tough for a guy born in the early 1950s) became one more item in a litany of Irma's complaints about what was wrong with him, with men, and with the world. She blamed herself as well, saying that Bob's curiosity was due to her failure as a wife, and as a woman. Bob tried to explain to Irma that his "interests" were sexual curiosity, and had nothing to do with love, or his love for her. He repeated that his interest in men's bodies was no passing fancy; it was lifelong, existing way many years before he met Irma. However, what had been his simple curiosity soon got complicated when it was mixed in with Irma's dissatisfactions. Yes, he understood that Irma wanted more attention from him, who at the time was caught up in getting ahead in his career at the bank. She, too, had been busy, managing the many tasks in her life, including her career, keeping a nice home for them, and taking most of the responsibility for their children. The 1990s had begun a time in America when the quality of one's work was judged, in large part, by quantity: How much time you spent at work, with a sixty-hour workweek a standard at Bob's bank (except for the top executives, and the temps who were paid by the hour). Thus, the other employees like Bob were terrified by the prospect that they might have to take a sick day, or worse, time off for a vacation, fearing that it would not only look bad, but also that another employee who filled in for you would thereby get a leg up on you, and make you expendable. (Nobody Bob knew used all ten vacation days of their annual two-week vacation.) Irma faced similar issues at work, so she and Bob, like other married adults, gave much time to the demands of employment. Couples barely had time to share a morning coffee. So when Bob confided in Irma, he hastened to add--and remind her--that he was still very attracted to her, and enjoyed being romantic and having sex with her. He never thought of himself as being a gay man. Yes, he knew that sometimes when he and Irma were having sex, Bob would fantasize about a nameless, faceless but masculine man joining them in a threesome, which helped him come more strongly. But he shared none of this fantasy with Irma, because the truth of Bob's "interests" was already out, and Bob didn't want to make things worse. Nonetheless, Irma connected her unhappiness with Bob's revelation. What made Bob feel a little cheated was the reality of his being a caring husband and a good friend to Irma did not seem to count for very much after all. When Bob began to gain weight, he also lost his job: The bank let go over one hundred middle managers in a cost-saving action. To get by, Bob took a temporary job in the mall doing peoples' income taxes, but the loss of his regular paycheck was a great blow to Irma, who asked Bob to move out. Irma then filed for divorce. (Bob would not find out for years that, prior to the divorce, Irma had already been enjoying the affection of a tall, thin, and married-but-gainfully-employed computer technician--ten years younger than Irma--who was not shy about letting her know how much he adored her, and sympathized with the rough breaks life had so far dealt them both. After all, he told Irma, his wife had also gained weight over the years, and was probably herself a closet lesbian as well. Over the 10 years since Irma divorced him, Bob had gotten even heavier--living alone, he had a bad diet, which took its toll along with his getting older, and his getting less and less exercise. Now, at age 55, Bob was now a little over 300 pounds, which at a height of 5'11" made him look very fat in the middle. A handsome man, Bob now also had a salt and pepper beard, a broad chest, and legs that were like piles that supported piers in the harbor. Bob and I met through the Internet, where we exchanged emails--I as a married man who was "curious," and he as a "lonely fat guy," as he called himself. We met for coffee at a diner, hit it off immediately, and then he invited me to his apartment. We sat in his kitchen, across from each other at his kitchen table. Bob was a charming guy, had a wonderful smile, and made good conversation. I was honest with Bob: I was not in the market for a relationship, only a good friendship. Bob understood, and agreed, saying he too was not looking for a relationship, but if one came along, he would accept it, and enjoy it. For me, this would be my first real experience with a guy since my teenage years, forty years ago. Perhaps Bob's best asset was his sense of humor, which was excellent. As Bob laughed, his belly went up and down, in the manner of a Santa Claus. Yes, I noticed the golden brown hairs at the top of his chest, showing above his shirt's top button. Nice brown hair! He said he liked the suggestion I made in one of my emails that I would like to massage him, so I got up and stood behind his chair. I put my arms around him, and nuzzled his neck, smelling his nice masculine aroma. I rubbed his arms through his shirt, and put my arms down on his chest, rubbing it lightly through his shirt. I moved my hands down to his huge belly, which felt large and firm. Leaning forward, placing my head ear-to-ear with him, I stroked the tops of his thighs, and then--ever so gently--I touched the front of his pants, feeling for what was underneath. Under his huge belly, by lifting it slightly, I could feel his penis, which felt soft Yet as I stroked him, it began to harden beneath my fingertips. Bob said "ahhh" as I lightly rubbed his jewels. (I smelled the smoke on his breath!) I kissed his neck as I rubbed them. I rubbed the insides of his thighs (which are supposed to be the most sensitive-to-arousal parts of the human body), and let my forearms brush his swelling penis. Bob was enjoying my massaging him. So I came around to the front, and opened his shirt. His hairy chest looked inviting, as did his dark hard nipples. I knelt between his legs, and stroked his hairy chest, then his belly. I opened his pants, too, and undid the belt. I left his pants opened as my hands returned to his chest After rubbing his hairy chest, I kissed each nipple, and placed one in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it. I got a whiff of his armpit, and it smelled sweaty but nice and masculine, reminding of my father's armpit smell many years ago. I kept licking Bob's nipples. The big guy began to moan, saying "Oh, that's nice!" I then did the same to his belly, licking it and tonguing his belly button. With my hands I softly rubbed his cock through his sweatpants as I licked his belly. "Why don't we go into the bedroom?" he asked. We went, and Bob laid down on his bed, which was small for such a huge guy. First, I undressed him...his shirt, then I took off his socks, his sweatpants, and finally, his boxers. His cock was beautiful, surprisingly large and thick for such a heavy guy. He was uncircumcised, and his prick stood up a little, rising above his larger-than-average balls. He unzipped my pants as I stood, and took out my cock. It dripped with precum, which he tasted with his finger, smiling at me. "Yum. Delicious!" he said. (As I saw his penis, I remembered that my own father's penis was uncut, too, and I was secretly very fascinated by it. I think I resented that they had me cut at birth, making me look different from my dad.) I stroked Bob's huge thighs and tickled them with my tongue as I kneeled on the floor between his legs, which were slightly spread apart. His feet looked and smelled so clean, and fragrant, that I kissed them, and he giggled a ticklish giggle. Next I stroked his ankles, and the calves of each leg, working my way up. I fixed some pillows behind his back, so he could recline a bit and watch as I took care of him. He knew that I wanted to pay attention now to his cock and balls. I smelled between his legs, his balls and crotch, even smelling under his balls toward his ass. Bob's aroma there was pleasing and masculine. (I was getting very turned on by the smell of his body!) Gently, I cupped his balls in my hand, and felt them in their huge wrinkled bag. Supporting it with my hand, I kissed his ball sack, and softly stroked it from the top down. I was eyeing his penis, which was throbbing. I kissed the very tip of his foreskin, which had a small puddle of precum that had accumulated. I put the tip of his foreskin between my lips, savoring the sweet, sticky taste of his precum. Softly, I stroked his cock with one hand, and saw that his penis was getting harder, and growing longer. Bob had a lot of foreskin, but by now, his glans was moving forward, and I could see it now showing itself within his foreskin. I licked his shaft, from down in the hair where it started, to the tip, then down to the point it met his balls, and back again. I drew back his foreskin, and saw his entire cock. It looked beautiful, shiny, moist, and clean, glowing pink, like the cock of a dog, only much thicker. There was no smegma under the rim of his glans. Bob said he had just taken a shower that morning, because smegma builds up so quickly on his cock. I stroked each thigh, the outside and then the inside of each as I watched his cock harden and start to point up at my face as if it had a life of its own. Leaning forward, I used my lips to massage the underside of his cock, which he liked. With my hands I rubbed his nipples as I licked his cock. More precum appeared and I licked it off with my tongue. Bob groaned, and said "oh, man, I need you to put me in your mouth!" I obeyed: Holding his penis in my hand, I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue, putting it under his now-growing-heavier organ. I held up his heavy penis with my tongue--It felt so soft yet so full. I closed my mouth around his cock, moving my tongue under it and locating the top ridge with my upper lip. Gently, I moved my mouth back and forth over Bob's beautiful prickhead. I varied my mouth action on him, licking, kissing, then engulfing his ever-growing cockhead. In and out, his cock grew in hardness as I drew it back and forth in my mouth. By now, Bob was moaning loudly. Taking my mouth away, I put my hand on his prick, and stroked it in my hand, spreading his precum over the his cockhead. Bob at this point was highly excited--"Put me back in your mouth," he pleaded. With pleasure, I swallowed his prick, and continued taking care of it with my lips, throat and tongue. I knew Bob was on the edge; he was going to come very soon. Rubbing his belly with my hands, I focused my mouth on his cockhead, and then drew it in deeply. I moved my mouth all the way down, so my nose was against his public hair, his dick entering my throat. His prong filled my mouth, and I went all the way down, then all the way up, holding his glans in my mouth and swirling it around with my tongue and lips. "I'm coming," he warned, as he shifted his huge body in his seat. He opened his legs wider as I sucked, moving my tongue underneath his cock. I intensified my attentions, tightening my lips' lock on his penis as I moved my head. I cupped his balls in my hand as I sucked him. "Faster," Bob whispered, so I moved my head faster on his now-hard dick. "O-god-oooooo." he moaned, "Ooooooo" "God, I'm come...." Suddenly, Bob exploded in my mouth. Wave after wave of orgasm flew through his huge body. I stole a look up at his face, and saw pure pleasure there---his mouth open wide, unable to speak, his belly shaking like a huge bowl of gelatin. My mouth was also open, and quickly filling up with his ejaculate. I counted 8 blasts before he slowed. But I kept the pressure with my lips and tongue on his glans, waiting for him to be done and not quitting sooner. (I had experienced my wife quitting on my cock too soon--just as I was coming in her mouth she would stop--It annoyed me, so I was determined to not do it to Bob. It cut short the pleasure from what should be the most wonderful feeling a man can be given. Worse, her "hasty retreat" made it feel a little like she was sucking me out of obligation, or sympathy, but not for her own enjoyment.) "Beautiful," he murmured, as I kept his cock in my cum-filled mouth. I swallowed his cum. I would not let go of his cock until he was ready. It began to shrink inside my mouth, and Bob moved his penis out of my mouth. Wrapping his big hands around my head, Bob kissed me on the top of my head. "Thanks, man. That was beautiful!" he whispered. Taking my cock in his hand, he said "It's time for you to come, now." I stood between his legs as he leaned forward and engulfed my prick in his mouth. I was so excited that after not even a minute of his sucking me, I came and shot down his throat. He kept my penis in his mouth till long after my orgasm subsided. I'm looking forward to seeing my buddy Bob again. Even if he and Irma get together again, I hope to keep seeing him. Maybe I'll even introduce him to my wife, and we can have my long-awaited threesome! Adoring Claudia I couldn't help but stare at the voluptuous beauty that bathed beneath the falls. I was in a trance by her, as her long golden hair flowed down her back in waves by the water that shot down on her head, and made rivers down her body. And what a body it was! Her hips were just right, and carried two, well sculpted legs that were just so admirable. Her breasts, they were just enough to fill my hands, with pink, inviting nipples that almost begged for my mouth. She was small, so most of her features were small. But never those big blue eyes of hers. She was called Claudia, such a beautiful name for a beautiful goddess. My hand rested on the bark, body almost on the side of the tree, in her sight if she were to open her eyes. I had started to become less and less careful. One of these days she was bound to notice me, and then what? She would never think of me any more then a pervert. I turned around, pressing my back against the tree I had been hiding behind all along. My knees were weak, just from looking at the beauty before me. I had noticed that my breathing was heavy. Oh, what she does to me. I knew that if I stayed any longer, I wasn't going to be able to walk. I took one last look at her, smiling as I noticed she had turned her back to me, revealing her rump. I liked my lips hungrily, my hands wanting to reach out and grope her. I shook my head, snapping out of the trance. It was time for me to leave. I ran a hand through my auburn hair, feeling it touch the middle of my bare back. I took a minute to gaze at the scenery around me. It was just so lovely here, with the thick canopy above me, parts of the moonlight coming in through the gaps of the trees and reflecting on the thick bushes with berries and flowers upon them. A thin fog clung to the ground as it always did at night here, and as the hours pass, it would just grow thicker, until you can barely see the ground. My crickets were chirping their love songs, and a few deer were frolicking in the forest. I started to move towards my home, nestled deep into the forest. It didn't take me long to get there. I found the small, yet cozy house, built of mostly rock and wood. There was smoke coming out of the chimney. Luke must have built a fire. I walked into the house, shutting the door behind me. The burst of warmth sent a chill down my spine. Luke sat in his big bear-hide chair in front of the fire, sipping his blood that was in a goblet. "You were watching her again." He didn't turn around to look at me from his chair. I had always come home and rant and rave about how I was in love with Claudia. He would do nothing but listen, and then ask why I haven't approached her yet. "I was." I made my way to him, standing next to his chair, facing the fire. The heat of the licking flames felt good on my cold flesh. My skin was pale. I was hungry. "You haven't fed." I turned my head to look at him, my hair falling over my shoulder. He looked beautiful tonight. His black hair fell around his face and his shoulders, landing in the cushions of the chair. His lips were parted, red, with his tiny white fangs showing. He looked at me with his bright green eyes. I nodded to his statement. "You always deprive yourself, Gabriel. Here." He handed me his goblet, still full. He must have just filled it. I brought it to my lips, and drank hungrily; not bothering to take a breath until the goblet was empty. He waited a while after I was finished, resting the goblet in my lap, eyes back on the fire. "You're obsessed," he stated. "It isn't healthy for you to stalk her like some kind of hungry beast." I turned back to face him. "I..." I wanted to defend myself, but I couldn't deny it. I was absolutely in love with her, and he knew it. I have been for more then half a year now. "I know." I sighed. I put the goblet back in Luke‘s hands. "But I am a hungry beast." I walked in front of him, my fists pressed at the base of my throat. "I hunger for her touch. I want her beautiful body in my arms. I want her." I let my hands at my sides, my head bowed. "All we are is monsters, Luke." "You're only a monster if you let yourself be." I nodded, and walked back to the door. I needed to see her again. However, Luke's voice stopped him. "Where do you think you're going?" Gabriel turned the knob, pulling the door open to hear it creaking. "For a walk." Without another word, I was out the door, leaving Luke in solitude. ‘This is getting out of hand. That girl is taking Gabriel away from me.' Luke stared into the flames as they entwined themselves around each other. He was just going to have to do something about that... I had snuck into Claudia's bedroom. The rest of her family was sleeping sound, as was she. I sat on the edge of her bed, watching her breath. Her room was so lovely. She had beautiful rugs, the color of lilac. She had a big oak armoire, which held all her tasteful outfits, no doubt. Her bed was the most eye-catching, though. It had four big posts on each four corners, and a curtain covering over the top and sides. It was like her own little cocoon, and she was the beautiful butterfly waiting to come out. My hand went out to her, my index finger tracing her lips softly. She moaned, and turned her head away from me, yawning. She was so beautiful when she slept. I stiffened, though, as she started to stretch, almost waiting for her eyes to open. My eyes widened, holding my breath. She finally settled back down, and I sighed softly in relief, relaxing again. I moved my hand through her golden tresses, feeling the silkiness seep through my fingers. I could smell her womanly scent, her hair, and her blood. I wanted to taste each, to be wrapped up in them. Being so close to her was not helping any. I had thought that it would sedate myself a while longer, but I was wrong. I just wanted more of her. I wanted actual contact. I wanted a kiss. I leant forwards, touching her jaw opposite of me, and pulled her face towards me so I could look upon her beautiful features. She had a small chin, with a little dimple in the middle. Her lips were full and rosy. Her cheeks had the young blush to them, and her skin was pale. My lips touched her long eyelashes, feeling the feathery hairs with my lips. I had to have a kiss. I leaned into her, feeling her warm breath puff against my skin. I brushed my lips lightly against hers, and finally pressed into her. She shot up out of bed, looking around the room. Nothing. Her fingertips came to her lips, feeling the strange warmth still lingering. The cool air was coming in through the window, curtains blowing in the breeze. She stood up, walking through the maze of silky material, and finally shut the window. "Thought I closed it before I fell asleep..." She shrugged her shoulders, and crawled back in bed. I smiled to myself, licking my lips, still having her taste upon them. I went home, and slipped in. Luke wasn't in his chair anymore, and the fire was nothing more then a burning pile of embers. He must have went to sleep. I couldn't, though. I was too lively. I went to my room, and got out my easel, a blank canvas and my palette. I started to paint away at her image, until the sun came up. I didn't have to worry about a window, since there wasn't one in my room. I went to my bed, and collapsed upon the covers. (Next chapter will be coming soon. Comments and votes are highly adored.)