27 comments/ 59347 views/ 66 favorites Sweet Music By: Tom Collins I just want to give major kudos to my editor, RogueLurker. She's a great lady, and this wouldn't be readable w/o her help. If you like this story, then give her a pat on the back when next you see her. * Dusty saw Deb coming across the quad, and gave a little wave. Deborah, actually, but she hated that, insisted that people call her Deb. In her opinion Deborah was a name you'd give someone that you expected to speak with her teeth clenched, and play the violin, not someone who laughed like a donkey, and played the electric bass in a garage band. They had agreed to meet for the concert on the commons at 5:30 on their way to see Deb's favorite group, an a capella band called Word of Mouth. Naturally, she was late. Deb stopped about 15 feet from where he stood leaning against a tree with his legs crossed at his ankles, looking him over like a buffet at Sizzler. His sleeveless t-shirt fit like a second skin, with the words 'I'm With Stupid' and an arrow pointing at the fly of his 501s. His auburn locks in their perpetual disarray. Five minutes after he brushed his hair, it would be an unruly mess, forever looking like he had just climbed out of bed from a hot session with some lucky guy. Taken on their own, his finely sculpted features and golden brown eyes would be considered pretty, but a strong masculine aura gave him an air of confidence and predatory raw sexuality that saved him from being labelled a "boy toy". No one ever thought to question it. "Do you have any idea how many times I've wished you were straight, Dusty?" she sighed melodramatically as she approached him. "I'd guess about as many times as I've wished Mel Gibson would suck my cock. You know, my little brother Trevor looks a lot like me, and I'd bet he'd really go for some mature poon." He wore a wicked grin as he said this. "Ick, man. He's barely legal. Plus, he's probably a virgin. What, I ask you, would I do with a virgin?" "The same thing you'd do with a non-virgin, only more times probably. Not to mention the fact that you wouldn't have to deal with any bad habits that he might have picked up from some other chick. You'd be training him from scratch, babe. Think of it, he's basically a walking erection who would be extremely eager to please. " "Damn. You make a good case. I just might have to seriously think about it." They walked over to where he had parked his VW and climbed in. He loved his van. While it was the furthest thing from sexy, it had plenty of room in the back for a good-sized mattress, which he kept a 400-thread count set of fresh and folded sheets sitting on the middle of, ready for anything. Once they arrived and found their seats, they had about a half hour to wait for the show to start. Dusty was amazed that Deb was able to get tickets at such a late date. The band was starting to build a reputation in the States and the hall was filled with fans. They already had bedrock following from when they were on a kids' show some years back. That was how Deb had gotten hooked on them. They had been very popular overseas, but had only recently begun to make waves over here. "Deb, you never said how you got the tickets and passes." Dusty whispered. Also whispering, she replied, "I went online, and bought them from their site months ago. It seemed to take forever for them to arrive." About a minute before 7 the house lights lowered some, the stage lights came up, and a voice announced the group. And there it was, that incredibly sexy voice coming through the sound system. The prime tenor for the group came out onto the stage, strutting like he owned the place. "God, he's so hot! I just wanna throw him down right there, and have my way with him." Dusty sighed. "I don't think you'd stand a chance. I'm telling ya, he's not gay. Look at how he's focusing on the ladies out here," Deb argued. "It's camo, babe. All an elaborate act. He's not out of the closet yet." "Nah, he's flirting with that woman Keith just hauled up on stage. He's all rubbing his ass on hers and everything. I'm telling ya, Chris is straight. You'd have a better chance with Jed, the percussionist. I don't get why you're into him anyway. He's not your usual type. This was true enough. He usually went for jock types, big muscles, big cocks, little brains, and little in the way of talent outside the bedroom or the field. There was just something about this guy though. He was average height with light colouring, and sharpish features. His physique would be called willowy if he was a woman. What an athlete would think of as a swimmer's build. "I know, but Chris is just sizzling. Look at him jumping around up there. The guy is a huge ball of energy. He must be incredible in the sack, plus that sexy voice? Sheeit, Deb, you know what I'd give to make that guy whine like a kitten. If you need some proof that he's gay, I'll give it to ya." "How?" Deb demanded. "Patience, Grasshopper. All will become clear in time." He said with a smug grin. Dusty looked around at the other people seated in the auditorium. The place was big, and steeply tiered. The head of the person sitting in front of him was at chest level. Figuring anyone onstage would be able to just about see into the laps of the audience, he prepared himself to gather the proof Deb wanted. They were starting a slow song just then, and Dusty gave his full attention to Chris as he began singing. Chris was scanning the audience, making eye contact now and again, and Dusty's goal was to catch his eye and hold it. His eyes scanned past, lingering only for a second, but then snapped back, drawn to Dusty like ball bearings to an electric magnet. Dusty knew what he saw was a guy in the third row staring directly at him, and lightly stroking his package, while wearing a "come hither expression". Dusty's grin widened when Chris actually faltered, his voice seemed to catch in his throat for a split second. His eyes lingered on the movement of the hand, then catching himself he flushed and looked away. After that the singer's eyes would skitter back every few seconds, never staying away for long. At the end of the song, the group exited stage right to get ready for the next number. "See?" "Jesus wept, you and your fucking gaydar. I really hate you right now. You know how hot I am for him, and you have to go and prove to me that he's a fag. Thank you sooooo much." Deb's eyes were shooting daggers at Dusty, who just laughed. Back stage, Chris felt like he'd slipped through the looking glass. He couldn't believe the heavenly creature flirting with him from the third row. If you could call what the redhead was doing "flirting". He'd never had anything like this happen, and wasn't at all sure how to handle it. His experience was limited to being picked up in a 7-11 once, and another time while he was reading in Central Park. This guy had to be messing with him. He was just too good looking to be honestly interested. Kevin and the others started making obvious innuendoes while he adjusted his clothes to hide the evidence of his arousal. It was intended as gentle teasing among friends, but they weren't helping the situation. At first, he hadn't even been sure the attention was aimed at him. He had to believe it, since the others had concluded that there was something to rib him about. Chris could usually give as good as he got when it came to joking around, but he seemed to have lost his equilibrium. Gary decided to take matters into his own hands. "Guys, time to let up. We can't go back out onstage with him all flustered like this." Dusty and Deb were still whispering together when the band returned to the stage, arranging themselves for their next number. Chris had changed his outfit a bit. He was wearing grey slacks, a midnight blue silk shirt under a grey and blue waistcoat with a grey jacket that matched the slacks. When he came back out on stage, the jacket had been tied low, around his slender hips, the knot of the sleeves directly in front of his fly. He was still strutting, but seemed a little less comfortable now. Right away, he started trying to catch Chris' eye again. It wasn't difficult to do. His eyes were obviously drawn to him. Every time Chris looked at him, Dusty was doing something erotic. To keep the singer's attention he had undone his belt and the top button of his jeans so that he could adjust himself, making sure Chris was looking when he did it. Dusty had kept up his campaign of seduction for most of the concert, and he was really starting to hope it would be over soon as his balls were really starting to ache from the constant state of arousal he had kept himself in while putting on his show for Chris. As soon as the group said good night, and it was clear they wouldn't be coming out for a third encore, he was out of his seat, catching Deb's hand, and working his way past the other people in their row. "You have no idea how glad I am that you got those back-stage passes, girl. I think I'd have to break someone's head if they wouldn't let me back there right now." he said as he buckled his pants, and then banged on the entrance to the rear of the theatre. When a little goth girl, holding a clipboard, opened the door Deb flashed the passes at her. The two were ushered in and pointed towards the dressing room. Walking down the corridor, they had no trouble finding the guys. The door was open, and there were several fans already in there with them, getting autographs, talking with the group members, and having their pictures taken with them. Dusty stepped into the room, scanning the place for Chris. He spotted him coming out of what appeared to be a washroom, towelling his hair dry. With a relieved smile, Dusty made a beeline for him. Stopping in front of him, Dusty said, "Hey." Chris pulled the towel down onto his shoulders and looked up to see who was talking to him, and froze. The look of astonishment on the guy's face was comical. "Uh...hey. Umm, you, enjoy the show? You want an autograph, or, something?" he stammered. "Yeah, to all of the above. The show was great, I'd love an autograph, and the or something too." He reached up, and smoothed the wet hair off of Chris' forehead, his hand sliding to the back of his neck as he leaned in slightly, his violet eyes locked on Chris' baby blues. Dusty's right hand was just brushing the shirt at his waist when a large, heavy hand landed on Dusty's shoulder and pulled him around. Dusty found himself looking at an Adam's apple. Looking up he recognized the base singer in the group, Gary. "Dude, what's your prob?" Dusty asked, as he stepped back with care. He didn't want to trample Chris. "You're leaning, man. And I don't like it." "What business is it of yours, big guy? He your squeeze or something?" "No. He's my friend, and your actions are clearly making him uncomfortable. Therefore, it becomes my concern. Shall we discuss this in private?" "What makes you think I wanna go anywhere with you, man?" "Gary, it's cool, really." Chris protested. "No. It's not cool, Chris. We're going to have a talk as soon as the meet and greet is over. His behaviour is inexcusable." It was a bit loud in the room, and Gary was speaking quietly so the rest of the fans wouldn't hear what was going on. It took a good hour. Dusty waited out of the way, watching the brouhaha. Finally, the last roll of film had been exposed, one final autograph book was christened, and a last minute "Thanks, guys!" said. Looking around to see if everyone had left, Gary spotted Deb talking with Kevin. Reaching for her, he said, "Sorry, miss, but it's getting kind of late, and we still have things to do before we can leave. Would you excuse us, please?" "But..." "She's with me." Dusty interjected. "She's my best friend. Anything you think you need to say to me can be said in front of her, 'cuz I'd just tell her anyway." "That cool with you, Chris?" Gary asked. "None of this is cool, man." Chris looked very uncomfortable. "So, this is about protecting his virtue, or something? Like, you wanna know what my intentions are, or what?" "Your intentions are perfectly clear, son. I have no issue with your intentions. What I do have an issue with is your actions. What you were doing during the concert was not a problem, seeing as how the audience couldn't tell what was going on, but in here, anyone paying the least bit of attention to the two of you would have seen what was going on. At this point in time, Chris is not out to the general public. His reasons are his own, and I respect them, as should you." "Hey, I didn't know, man. I'm sorry. Honest, how could I know he's still in the closet? I mean, just 'cuz someone don't advertise that they're gay, don't mean they're hiding it, right?" "That's true, but you need to be more discreet in the future. You should always assume that someone hasn't come out unless you know for certain otherwise." "Yeah, you're right. I'll be more thoughtful in the futu..." "YAH! Who just grabbed my ass?" Deb shrieked. The three of them were standing fairly close together, so when she jumped forward in surprise, she slammed up against Gary, then ricocheted off him and back into Dusty. He steadied her, while looking at who had been standing behind her. Jed had a shit-eating grin on his face. Dusty grinned back. "I'd say the percussionist is the culprit, Deb. Weren't you saying you thought he was cute?" "No, I said you'd have a better chance with him than Chris. I thought for sure he was the gay one. " "Hey! Why would you think I'm gay?" he demanded, clearly affronted. "Come on, look at how you dress. Straight men do not wear button down, silk shirts open and untucked, with a tight t-shirt underneath." She replied. "They don't?" "I told you, man. Do you believe me now?" Chris asked, snickering at Jed. "Shit. No wonder I never get laid." He muttered. "You know, you're real cute when you pout?" Dusty commented. "Back off, dude, I don't fly that way." He said defensively, but turned his puppy dog eyes on Deb while he said it. She smiled, and he brightened. "So, are we through here?" Dusty inquired. Gary appeared to ponder for a moment, "Yes, I think we are. " Dusty turned to Chris, who smiled shyly at him. "Wanna get out of here?" "I can't. Not right this minute, anyway. Someone might see, and snap to what's up." "Why aren't you out? I mean, it's not like you'd loose your female fans, and you'd gain tons of male fans. Seriously, the girls who are infatuated with you would be disappointed, but they wouldn't be pissed. Isn't that right, Deb?" "That's about how I feel. I'm pissed at Dusty, here, not you." She responded, punching him lightly in his abdomen, intending to hit his tight six-pack, but her aim was higher and harder than she had meant. She wound up hitting him right in the solar plexus, causing hit breath to rush out and his diaphragm to seize up. His arms flapped about like a wounded bird, until his right hand landed on Chris' shoulder, his fingers spasmed closed, causing him to clutch a handful of vest, and shirt. "Oh, shit, hahaha, I'm, sorry, hehe, I didn't mean, HAHAHAAAA..." She tried to apologize, but seeing Dusty looking like a stunned, beached carp was just about the funniest sight she had ever seen. "Are you OK, Dusty?" Chris enquired, looking concerned. Dusty stumbled back, the back of his legs struck a vanity chair and he sat down heavily. He still had a handful of Chris' clothes, and dragged the singer along, tangling their feet as he lost his balance, involuntarily sitting down. Chris suddenly found himself in Dusty's lap, straddling his legs. Dusty's face was pressed into the side of the surprised tenor's neck, just as his lungs decided to start working again. He took a tremendous gasp of indrawn air, and then just sat there panting into Chris' neck and ear. Despite the way that they had ended up in this position, Chris quietly groaned and shuddered as he closed his eyes to enjoy the single most erotic experience of his life. Dusty felt Chris' instant erection press hard into his flat stomach, and slid his hands down to his ass to pull him closer. They looked around at the sound of a throat being loudly cleared. "I think that all of us in here would appreciate it if the two of you would wait until we don't have to be present. It was bad enough watching the two of you eye-fucking each other during the performance. I really don't have any desire to see more, thank you." Gary said when he had their attention. Chris scrambled up, blushing crimson. Dusty stood, rubbing his mid-section. "Well, if we can't leave together, how are we gonna handle this?" "I don't know. I've...I mean, its been...I...I...I have a room that I share with Jed" "Not a problem." Deb assured Chris, "Jed and I'll be getting our own room." "How about we meet you guys at your motel?" The red head inquired of Chris. "Uh, yeah, that'd be great." "Which one are you in, and what room?" "The Ramada, room number 232." "Great, see you there." Dusty slid his hand behind Chris' head, his right slipping to the small of his back. He pulled him in close, his lips just barely brushing Chris'. His tongue snaked out and swiped at his bottom lip, Chris gasped, startled by the unexpected sensation. Dusty took advantage of his parted lips by slipping his tongue into the warm depths of his mouth. It was abundantly clear that Chris would have hit the floor if Dusty hadn't been so strong. As it was, Chris just sort of sagged like a rag doll, his knees completely unequal to the task of holding him up. Dusty gave his ass a little squeeze as he got him back onto his feet. "See ya there?" "Right; sure, you bet." Chris looked beyond dazed. "Right. Let's go, Deb." Dusty said, turning to his friend. As they left, the band could hear Deb continuing her complaint to Dusty about how to get pointers on making a guy swoon. "God, help me! I think I'm in love." Chris was leaning back against the wall for support. "Lust." said Gary. "Same difference." Eric piped in. Deb was standing in the lobby, waiting for them, but Dusty was nowhere to be seen. Looking concerned, Chris approached her. She smiled and pointed upstairs. Quickly returning her smile, he was off, moving towards the elevator like the hounds of hell were on his heels. When the door opened, he saw Dusty leaning back against the ice machine, ankles crossed, thumbs hooked in his pockets, fingers framing his basket. The entire pose designed to display the goods to their best advantage. Chris just stood there, enraptured. He snapped out of the trance when the door started to close again, and reached out to stop it. "Which way?" Dusty asked as he reached down to pick up the paper bags by his feet. "What?" "To your room...which way?" "Oh, right. Follow me." Chris said, blushing slightly and heading out of the elevator alcove. "Endlessly, Babe." Dusty was walking so close to him he could feel his body heat. His warm breath washed over the back of Chris' neck, sending goose bumps down his arms and across his chest. Chris felt like his guts were turning to jelly. He absolutely could not get the damned key card to work right. Dusty reached around him, and caught his hand. Taking the key card, he unlocked the door for them, and using full body pressure, got Chris moving into the room ahead of him. Once across the threshold, he put out the do not disturb sign, and grabbed the ice bucket. "What's in the bags?" "Have a look see, while I go get some ice." Dusty replied, smiling. Chris started pulling stuff out of the bag. A 5th of Raspberry Smirnoff, another of coconut Captain Morgan's rum, blue plastic cups, and some snack food. He had just pulled a large box of ultra thin Ramses and a big bottle of lube that claimed to, "Make it last through any extreme situation with our new 'waterless', condom safe formula that never dries out! Smooth, silky texture last and last until you're done." when Dusty came back in with the ice. He blushed, and dropped the bottle like he'd been burned. Sweet Music Samantha smiled as she pulled into the school parking lot. She was the only one there; the only one, that is, besides her band director. She took her curly brown hair out of its ponytail and put a little lip gloss on her pouty mouth then took a look in her rear view mirror. Her blue eyes sparkled and she had a slight blush on her cheeks. Biting her lower lip, she opened the car door and set one long, tanned leg on the ground before the other. She opened the door to the school and called out his name. Mr. Scott poked his head around the corner of his office and smiled slightly. "Samantha, I'm glad you're here; you need to get these order forms out to the freshmen tomorrow. I won't be here." His green eyes momentarily at her breasts which were concealed under the perfect tee she had on. "Um, so make sure they get these, okay?" She smiled and took the papers from him and made sure her hand touched his. His black hair was wavy, and she could see a spot that was going to be bald in about ten years when he looked down at the ground. When he turned his face toward her again, she could see something in his eyes she'd seen before. She took advantage of that and licked her lips. She heard his breath catch and looked at his chest rise and fall quickly; it was very muscular under there and she couldn't wait to see it again. He had a pitiful look on his face, like one of that from a boy who was being teased. She smiled and took her hand away and turned to leave. "Is that all you wanted when you called me, Mr. Scott?" She leaned against the doorway to his office and perched her hand purposely on her neck. He stood up next to her, his voice hushed. "Is there anyone else here?" She smiled and shook her head then shut the door, her hand moved down to her breasts. He walked over to his office window and pulled the blinds down just in case a janitor was to come in and clean. Samantha's breath caught in her throat as he came over and pushed her against the door, his body flat against hers. She looked into his eyes as she hooked a finger in the belt loop of his shorts and pulled him closer while she rubbed her hip against his hardening cock. She let him kiss her, and teased his tongue with hers before she grabbed his head and kissed him harder. She heard him moan and pushed him away. She just gave him a devilish smile and made him sit in his chair, her foot on the armrest. "God..." was all he got out before she was on top of him. Samantha pulled off her shirt to reveal a lacey pink bra that barely covered her nipples; she fondled herself before she kissed him again. She stood up and dropped her too short shorts and was standing there, lacey pink boy panties to match. She looked over his shoulder and found his conducting baton, grabbed it and slid the handle up under her panties. She began to rub her clit with the smooth wood, and Mr. Scott never took his eyes off of her. A small groan escaped her lips and before her orgasm, she removed the baton and put it in her mouth, her pink lips wrapped around it. She looked at him as he put his hands on her hips and tried to make her sit down. "I have a better idea, Mr. Scott." She saw him take a deep breath when she called him that. He'd been her teacher for the past four years, and she had started fucking him four months ago. Although it was legal - she was 18 - it wasn't the best thing for a teacher to be screwing any students. She got down on her knees between his legs and unzipped his pants; his rock hard penis sprang out of his boxer shorts. She licked her lips and put one hand on the super soft skin. She saw him lean back as she slid her pink mouth over the head, down the shaft and she took the whole dick in her mouth then licked his balls at the same time. She repositioned herself so that one of his legs was in between hers then she rubbed herself on him while she sucked his cock. One hand played with his balls and the other was behind her, deep in her pussy. God it made her so fucking wet to suck him off, but she desperately needed that 9 inch cock inside her. She stood up and took off her bra and panties and was prepared to ride him, but he had a different idea. He turned her around and had her lean backwards on his desk, one foot on the armrest of his chair. She watched him look at her smooth pussy, with a small triangle of hair above her clit then he put his mouth to her, his tongue gently flicked her sensitive bud. "Oh, fuck." Samantha said quietly and pushed her cunt into his face. He sucked at her clit and the slipped a finger into her tight, slick hole and made sure he hit the spot. She began to tremble as she felt an orgasm come, but he backed off. This is what she loved about sex with him; he knew how to tease her, how to make it last. She felt his finger slide out of her pussy and over to her puckered little asshole and she relaxed for him; that was one of the best things he could do to get her off. With one breast being massaged, his tongue on her clit and the other hand in her asshole it was almost too much to take. Then he stuck his thumb into her cunt and pumped her holes furiously. She felt his tongue press harder and she gripped the edge of the desk until it almost cut her circulation off. "Oh, oh.... God, yes, fuck me, Mr. Scott.... Fuck meeeee," she screamed as her body shook with her first orgasm. Oh he was mean; she felt him release everything in the middle of her wave. "No!" She looked down at him and frowned; she wasn't done yet. She quickly smiled again and looked down at his cock which stood straight up; it begged for her attention. She was glad the armrests were attached to the back of his chair so she could fuck him while she looked in his eyes. Slowly she lowered herself onto him and his dick stretched her pussy more and more. She sank down until she felt his balls on her ass and gradually rose up again. She pinched her nipple; she knew he liked to watch her play with herself. She slowly came down again, this time she stayed there and squeezed her pussy around his thick cock. She felt his hands grab her ass cheeks. She couldn't take it any longer and put her hands behind her on his desk and braced herself with her feet on the floor. She rode his dick and swayed her pussy back and forth so that his hard stick would hit her clit when she slammed down on him. Within minutes she was panting and biting her lower lip as she felt her orgasm build again. She felt a hand at her mouth and sucked on his fingers hungrily, then gasped as one was quickly shoved up her ass, then another. He finger fucked her behind as she rode his dick; she let out a major scream and came with such a force that his fingers were pushed out of her ass. She leaned against him, out of breath. He let her rest for a moment before he had his way with her. He kissed her gently and tangled his other hand in her curly brown hair before he grabbed it and pulled her off of him. They stood in front of each other and he turned her around; she was bent over his desk. He teased her pussy with the severely swollen head before he quickly plunged into her. Samantha's hands pushed against the wall for support and resistance, but his fucking her didn't last long. He pulled out and let her stand there and wonder what he would do next. She looked over her shoulder and bit her lip; he smiled and held his cock against her asshole before gently sliding the head in. At a snail's speed, he finally got his dick inside her ass and his balls tickled her pussy. She pushed back against him using the wall as leverage. He began to pound her ass and stopped suddenly; the outside door had opened. He pulled out and quickly went to lock his office door and when he turned around, she was perched on his desk. She rubbed her clit with one hand while the other held his baton which sank deeper and deeper into her wet pussy. "Oh, God that's beautiful." He whispered and walked over to her. They heard the footsteps near the window now. Samantha motioned for him to come closer. "Fuck me, Mr. Scott," she said just above a whisper. "Shh!" She smiled and bit her lower lip again. "Mr. Scott!" She said a little louder. She used a foot to push him into her, his dick slid into her dripping slit. They could hear the footsteps getting closer, and they stopped right at the window. A dark silhouette appeared and Samantha let out a low moan. Mr. Scott quickly put a hand to her mouth, and she licked his fingers making him groan. The shadow disappeared briefly but came back at his door. He fucked her pussy while he held her hips, pulling her into him. She rubbed her clit as he watched, getting close to his own orgasm. She squealed and pushed her cunt into him and heard their guest put a hand on the doorknob. "Oh... my... god!" She whispered and rubbed her clit harder. "I'm... gonna... cum!" He grunted as he plowed her pussy and someone knocked on the door. Samantha closed her eyes and shook her head back and forth. When they didn't answer the knock, they heard the person leave and the door shut behind them. He grabbed her breast and slammed his dick into her one last time and she felt his hot spunk fill her pussy. "Ohhhhhhhh," she groaned. "Mr. Scott, I love it when you fuck me." Sweet Music "Could you...would you mind...I've always wondered what it felt like to get a blowjob?" Chris asked tentatively, like he was afraid that if he just said that's what he wanted Dusty would flip out. "What?" "I'm sorry. Never mind, really." He pushed away from Dusty. Dusty's grip had relaxed and Chris rolled over the edge of the bed, winding up on the carpet. "Whoa, are you OK?" "No, no, I'm fine, it's OK, I'm sorry, really, it was just a thought, don't worry, I...I...I..." Dusty sat and swung his feet to the floor, as Chris scrambled to his feet, babbling in apparent terror. Dusty caught the singer by his hips to keep him from backing away, reeling him in to stand between his legs with Chris' shins pressing against the bed. "Angel, you need to quit thinking that you're the only person out there that loves sucking cock. Believe me when I say that the only thing I love more than long-dicking a man is giving him the best blowjob of his life." "Long-dicking?" Dusty laughed lasciviously, "Oh, Angel, you'll find out, and what's more, you'll love it. Now, let's see about this virgin cock of yours, shall we?" Chris' cock had fallen to half-mast in his fear, but it pulled it's self up by its bootstraps as he watched. "Look at him stand at attention like a proud Marine in parade formation. I love the sight of a soldier ready for action. Makes me wanna spit shine his helmet." Dusty slathered the flat of his tongue in a zigzag up the underside of the straining shaft in front of him. "Oh, Jesus." Chris' hands grabbed a hold of Dusty's shoulders to keep from hitting the floor again, as his knees turned to water. "Heh heh, that's my sex kitten, alright. Here, sit down before you fall down, Angel." Dusty traded places with him, kneeling between his legs, and instructed him to lean back on his arms so that Dusty would have free access, but Chris could still see what he was doing. He pushed his legs apart, pulling his ass up to the edge of the bed, while he nibbled Chris' nipples. It seemed that Dusty's hands were everywhere at once, moving slowly, sensuously. Dusty worked his nipples, sucking, licking, biting, them until Chris started rocking his pelvis upward, rubbing hungrily against his chest. He feathered kisses and nips down his chest and stomach until his breath was washing across the tenor's throbbing rod, and then he slid on past. Chris' groan of frustration turned to surprised pleasure when he felt his balls fall into Dusty's open mouth. While Dusty lathered his jewels with loving care, he teased the head of Chris' cock with the fingertips of one hand. The other hand was stroking its way into his fissure, searching for his little, pink rosebud. When Chris began kneading his scalp, just like the kitten he reminded him so much of, and making sexy mewling sounds, Dusty knew he could take it to the next level. Without stopping what he was doing with his right hand, and mouth, he reached for the bottle of lube on the nightstand with his left hand. He popped it open one handed, and used his thighs to squeeze some onto his fingers. Chris gasped in surprise at the cold, wet sensation when Dusty began smoothing it onto his hole, but it warmed quickly. When Dusty flicked his tongue up the length of his shaft and engulfed the head of his cock in his hot, wet mouth, he forgot about the momentary discomfort. Dusty alternated going all the way down on his shaft with long, slow, slurping licks, like a kid going at a twin-pop in August, while he worked first one, then two, then three fingers into his tight pucker. Every time he extracted his fingers to get more lube to work into him, Chris would whimper, and push his ass up, begging for the penetration to continue. "Do you want me to fuck you now, or suck you off until you come?" Chris was incapable of responding coherently. The response he tried rather sounded like a turkey on acid. "Right then. Suck, and then fuck. Your wish is my command, Angel." He went back to work on the twitching member, bobbing his head like a carousel horse, and massaging Chris' prostate. Chris took in a huge lungful of air, and froze. He didn't make a sound for several seconds, he didn't breath, and the only movement was a completely involuntary quivering in his entire body. Dusty looked up just as the first shot ricocheted off of his uvula and Chris' sphincter clamped down on his fingers. The tenor's mouth was open, but nothing was coming out. His eyes were half closed and glassy looking, with his head thrown back and to the side. Simultaneous with the second blast of jism his hips thrust up, his hands started scrabbling around like a couple of spiders, and Chris let go with a sound that could have been ultimate pleasure, or pain. It reminded Dusty of that question, how you tell if someone is laughing or crying if you can't hear them. He swallowed every drop of fluid that Chris expended into his mouth, and nursed at his cock until it started softening just to be sure he didn't miss any. By this point Dusty's cock was literally drooling for some attention. He opened the box of condoms, pulled one out, and used his teeth to tear it open. After getting it adjusted so it was comfortable, and applying a liberal amount of lube, he repositioned Chris so that he was further from the edge of the bed. He got them into the Missionary position with his right knee bent along the side of Chris' body, and his left foot braced on the floor for leverage. This was his favorite sexual position, because he could watch his lover's face while he took him. Dusty knew that after such a powerful orgasm, Chris would never be more relaxed. Dusty carefully worked the head of his cock past Chris' tight little hole, pausing when he stirred at the invasion. Chris languidly ran his hands up and down Dusty's back, and pressed his ass upward. That was all the encouragement that Dusty needed. He slowly sank his meat into his hot, welcoming hole, inch by inch. "Ahhh, shit, Angel." He exclaimed, when Chris wrapped his legs around his hips, and pulled him in faster with his heels. "God, Dusty, it feels incredible. Why doesn't it hurt, like it did before?" "Because you're ready for it this time. The others must not have taken the time to get you really ready for it. Now, do you remember asking what long-dicking was?" "Yeah." Dusty began rocking his hips. Forward, back, side to side, then in an orbital rotation, mixing it up, and keeping it as random as he could, trying hard not to fall into any kind of a pattern so as to keep Chris' body guessing. "Ah, ah, ahhhhh, Goooooooooooddddd, Heeeeeuuuuuuueeeee." The final sound seemed to go on without pause. Dusty figured it must be the lung capacity of a singer. Up until now, he'd never had a man dig his nails into his back. He was not the least bit surprised when he felt Chris' cock spring back to life, and become fully rigid in a matter of seconds. He decided that his little angel was a natural bottom. He didn't know what it was about this guy, but Chris surprised him at every turn, and everything felt better, more intense some how, with him. "Oh, Angel. Yeah, you feel so good. On one's ever felt so good, Kitten. God, uuuhn, God, Angel." He was totally thrown of guard when Chris suddenly pushed with his legs and arms, rolling them over so that he could take the ascendant position. The way Chris started moving once he got himself settled was almost mind blowing. He put his palms flat on Dusty's chest, using his legs as his primary support, and mimicked the motions that Dusty had been using on him just a few seconds ago. His eyes were just barely slit open, and he was still making that high pitched, leaking balloon sound. Dusty could feel his orgasm building fast. He reached over, grabbed the lube, and squirted a copious amount into his palm. He quickly warmed it between his palms, and then began jacking Chris off with his best two-fisted technique; one hand stroking the shaft, while the other worked the head in a rotational pattern. This must have been too much stimulation for Chris, because he started huffing in time with his gyrating hips. A few seconds later a dribble of thin looking semen oozed out of his piss slit. Feeling Chris' body spasm, and clench around his cock sent Dusty over the edge too. He pushed out on Chris' arms so that his chest smacked down onto his own, then rolled them back to their starting position. Just a couple more thrusts, and he lost himself in his own ecstasy. "Huuuh, Angel. Uuuhh, Baby. Uuuuu, my angel. Nuughh, Oohh, Love. Ahh, Love. Huh huh huh, my baby, my kitten." Neither of them could manage more than panting and quivering with the after shocks for several minutes. Chris revelled in the feeling of Dusty's weight pressing him into the mattress. Once he had regained his senses, Dusty pulled out of Chris, and rolled off pulling Chris into his side. Nestling the blond head in the hollow of his shoulder, he wrapped his left arm around his slender back. The fingers of his right hand began stroking random patterns on Chris' arm and side. Chris' sigh caught his attention. Somehow, it just didn't sound content. "Something bothering you, Angel?" "Not really. It's just that I've just discovered that I'm a total girl." "What does that mean?" "Never mind. It doesn't matter." "It matters if it's making you unhappy, Angel. Tell Daddy what's wrong, Kitten." He said, nuzzling into Chris' hair. Dusty loved the smell of his shampoo. "It's just that I was laying here, perfectly content, when all of a sudden, I remembered something you said a few minutes ago, and I wondered if you really meant it, and that's something a girl would do." "I've recently come to the conclusion that there is nothing in the way of behavior that is exclusive to either sex. What did I say?" "See, you don't even know what the hell I'm talking about. I'm just loosing my mind. Feel free to ignore me." "Your talking about when I was saying, 'my angel, my baby', like that, right?" "Yes, and when you were saying no one had ever felt so good. Did you mean all of that, or were you just babbling?" "Oh, I was most assuredly babbling..." "Oh. Well..." "But that doesn't mean that I didn't mean every word." "Oh. Then you meant to claim me? I mean, all that, 'my this, and my that', does that mean that you're interested in more than just..." he waved his hand about to encompass the situation, "this? More than just a one time fling?" "Angel, any man who didn't want to spend the rest of his life trying to find out everything there is to know about you would have to be a complete fool, and my momma didn't raise no fools." "This isn't real. I'm not this lucky!" Chris sat up suddenly. Dusty sat up along side him, and caught his face between his hands. "It's not luck, Chris, it's Fate!" "Fate?" "Fate." Dusty confirmed, stopping any further protests with a kiss so full of love that Chris couldn't think how to argue with fate.