6 comments/ 35097 views/ 35 favorites Change My Mind By: Malice2 Obligitory Disclaimer: Gay sex, over 18, blah blah, yada yada, you know the drill. This is yet another installment involving Doug from Subway Angel and Tomcats. It's a standalone if you haven't read those yet, so don't worry. I originally wrote this for a friend, which is where I got the name "Patch", (It's an old style nickname for "Peter", much like "Dick" is for "Richard") I thought it was good so here I am publishing it. Any and all feedback welcome. I want to give a special thank you to Tom Collins who inflated my ego and made this ledgible. Change My Mind Les Diaboliques. That's the name of the worst foreign film, hell, the worst film ever in recorded history. It's the film I've been suffering through, ready to projectile vomit from, for over two solid hours. I'm here with a friend for her friend's birthday. I came along because the birthday girl's brother was supposed to be here, and his attractiveness and availability had been hyped up to me for a good month now. "You'll love him, he's just right for you." They've been telling me. So I went to this art space, ready to put up with a room full of pretentious idiots if it meant meeting someone cool. Alas, it wasn't meant to be, for this mystery brother caught a stomach virus and was unable to attend. So, whilst all the women in the room flutter and coo in the dark about what a sensitive, touching movie this is, I'm sitting here about to slit my wrists. "It's almost over," My friend leans over to me, finally noticing how badly I've been fidgeting. "Only about forty-five or so minutes to go." God, I won't make it. I'll explode first. "I'll be back. I need to uhh...use the bathroom." I lie, just wanting to go out for some fresh air. She doesn't respond, she doesn't even acknowledge that I've spoken to her. I make my way out of the small, stuffy, smoke-filled room, through the bar area and out into the crisp, quiet autumn night. There's already someone standing out here eating a candybar. He's got this big black hoodie on, and he gives me a suspicious glare from under it as I sit down on the bench nearby. I give him a lingering stare in return. "You hated the movie too, huh?" He takes a moment to swallow his candy before responding. "You went in to see the movie? No, man, I'm hiding out from the yuppie douchebags at the wine bar." "You came here for the wine bar?" He honestly didn't look like the type to be at a place like this. He had these big sloppy jeans, ripped at the cuffs and smudged with dirt and paint, and faded black sneakers that looked older than he was. I could picture him hanging out at the park with a beer in his hand, but not in a high-class place like this. "I'm with a friend." His tone is rather harsh and defensive. "This place fucking sucks. I could be home whacking off to midget porn right now." My eyes widen at his comment. I can't believe someone would say that to a complete stranger. Well, my expression must have been priceless because he suddenly bursts out laughing. "Okay," He slaps his knee. "Your reaction just made this whole thing worth it." I can't help but start laughing too. "Wow, that's something you don't hear everyday." I blurt out not knowing how else to respond. He wraps up the remainder of his candy and shoves it into his pocket, wipes his hands, crudely, on his thighs and walks over to me with a hand out. I can see his face better now that he's in the light. He's got these big green eyes framed in thick, brown, geek glasses, and a heart-shaped face covered in thick, coarse, brown stubble. "I'm Doug." He flashes a smart-assed grin, like he's inwardly mocking me. "My friends call me Patch." I take his hand. It's warm, and his grip is strong. He sits by me and pushes his hood back. He's got this long dark hair back in a ponytail, with a thousand flyaways. He takes a moment to slide out his hairtie and redo the ponytail to pre-hoodie neatness. "Nice to meetcha. You ever been to this dump before tonight?" "Never. I'm not planning on coming back either. What about you?" He turns away, his brows knit from stress as he pinches the bridge of his nose, making the glasses lift up a bit. "Once. I came here with my roomate because she thought I needed more 'culture'. Made me sit through this gawdsawful black and white flick about some french broad who goes around stabbin' dudes in their sleep. It was so painful, I should'a had two robots sitting next to me making fun of it the whole time." "Oh, Les Diaboliques, that's what I was forced to sit through just now." "Augh!" He cries in empathy. "And it's like twelve thousand years long, right?" He gives me a sympathetic smile. "The things we do for our friends!" "Tell me about it." I roll my eyes. "So if you hate this place so much, why'd you come back?" "Because she really likes this place, and I have _nothing_ better to do. I work so much and it's like, sometimes I want to feel like I have a life, even if I'm having a rotten time., At least I'm not sitting home with my thumb up my ass, you know?" He glances down and for a moment he looks so tired and sad that I feel the urge to reach over and hug him. "I know." I sigh. We sit there for a moment just looking at the ground in silence. There's something about this guy that's so strangely comfortable, like we've known each other for years. The gap of silence isn't even awkward, in fact, just sitting there with him made me feel oddly content. At one point, he turns to me with a half-smirk and breaks the silence. "I think I remember you coming in. You were with that huge mafia of chicks, right?" I chuckle and nod. "So which one of them was your girlfriend?" It wasn't just the question alone that was funny, it was the way he asked it, and the look in his eyes when he asked it; like he was probing. Like he wanted to know if I was single, into women or interested in finding someone. I debated giving him a monosyllabic and obscure answer, but it hits me that he's asking because he might be interested. Could I go out with a guy like him? He's so strange, so vulgar, so different from anyone I've ever met. "They're my friends." I smile wide; flattered that he finds me attractive enough to go through the probing process for. "Ahh, so your girlfriend is at home? Worrying about you being out with so many other girls?" He giggles, not letting up. "You some sort of heartbreaker?" "Well, to women, I'm afraid so. I always break their hearts when they find out I'm gay." I decide to be nice and give him what he's looking for. I was never any good at keeping people stringing along, even if they deserved it. He turns to fully face me, his eyes lighting up like a christmas tree, and for a second he looks like he wants to say something. He merely smirks and nods in approval. "Cool." He finally states, turning forward, still nodding slowly. "And you? Is your roomate a love interest?" He shrugs casually, still looking forward. I glance that way and realize there's a cat digging through garbage across the street. "She was, but not anymore. I'm looking for something else right now." "Like?" There's suddenly a tension growing between us. Not an awkward one, something more primal, more meaningful. He turns to me and there's a new element to those olive green eyes of his; a hungry, devilish look of desire. It completely changed the way he looked; it transformed him from "playful little brother" to "wild, mischievous potential lover". My jaw drops open as we just sit there staring deeply into each other's eyes. "Like...something more...rugged." He breathes, his eyes slitted sexily. "How old are you?" I ask suddenly, and he's taken aback by it. It occurs to me that he looks young, maybe a little too young. He blinks a few times, that smirk now gone from his features. "Older than I look, younger than I feel." "Boy, you've got a wisecrack answer for everything, don't you?" I chuckle, trying to hide my growing frustration. He rolls his eyes. "I'm 27. Lighten up, man. You totally destroyed that whole moment just now. Well you know what, you're going to have to build up to the next one 'cause I'm spent." He continues to look at me, crossing his arms, now obviously annoyed. "Hahaha! You're very cute, but you realize I'm a lot older than you, right?" "Tsk." He clicks his tongue. "So what? I think it was the Kids in the Hall who said 'the cute, as a species, do not age well', so I gotta get all the nookie I can while I'm young. You, on the other hand, are aging beautifully so the difference between us shouldn't mean much." "You're too kind." I put a hand on his knee to underscore my point. "Unfortunately, as attractive as I might find you, a one night stand is not something I'm looking for right now." He puts his warm hand gingerly on top of mine. "Then I'm afraid we have a problem, because I just got out of a forever-long relationship and I'm just not ready to leap into another." "Hrm." I grunt, turning to stare at that cat again. Now it's sitting in the meatloaf position on a ledge, staring back at us. I can see it's eyes glowing bright greenish-yellow in the dark. "Yeah," He agrees, squeezing my hand. "Ain't love grand? Scars you worse than war." We sit like that for a few more minutes, the sexual tension hanging in the air like humidity. "What about friends with benefits?" He blurts out after a while. "No, Doug. I'm looking for a boyfriend, I don't have time for games." He gasps and turns to stare wide-eyed at me with this insulted expression, pulling his hand away from mine. "No time for games? Let me tell you something. There's a big difference between an 'adult' and a 'grown-up'. An adult is someone who can live their life and do their own thing, but never forgot how to be a kid. He can still joke and mess around with the best of them, and can totally make time in his busy life for playtime. And a grown-up...well, if you become one of those, you might as well go walk into oncoming traffic now because you're already dead." He crosses his arms again and stares at his own feet. "Yes, but there comes a time when you have to discard your wild ways for something more substantial and secure." I put my hand on his shoulder. With all this sexual tension floating about, it was difficult having him sit next to me and not touch him. "Sleeping around isn't safe or smart, and you seem like a decent person. I can't imagine you like the feeling of being used." "You're right, I don't." He looks down. "But it's better than ripping open an already rotting wound." He begins to shake his head absently, looking very upset. I scoot closer and put my arm around him. I can feel the immense tension in his shoulders;, it was like I was leaning against a brick wall. "There's nothing secure about relationships." He begins, still staring at the ground between his parted legs. "People are so fickle, so ready to move onto the next big thing. So sick, so obsessive, so indifferent, and so bitter. Everyone's got a different mental malfunction. You could be the happiest couple in the world and something horrible always goes wrong. They cheat on you, they ignore you, they mistreat you, turn their back on you, abuse you, talk shit about your friends and family, it's always something. It's not like it used to be. And even if they're great to be with, nobody wants to work anything out and stay together anymore and every love venture just either tapers out or explodes into an abysmal failure. Getting emotionally attached just opens you up for more pain." He glances up into my eyes with this miserable, puppydog expression. "I know." He gives me a crooked grin despite this and puts his hand on my inner thigh. "I'm just a big fucking ray of sunshine." I chuckle and he joins me. The sexual tension is mostly gone, leaving only that comfort level we had before. The door creaks open and my friend's head pops halfway out. "Patch?" She shouts right before spotting us on the bench. We both turn our heads to look at her. "Oh!" She squeals when she sees how close we're sitting. "The um, movie's over, so we're just going to sit at the bar. So...whenever you want to come in, okay?" "Okay, thanks, hon." I wave to her as she closes the door giving me a big, forced, slightly embarrassed smile. Doug waves to her as well. "Well, that was special." He remarks flatly. "You wanna go back inside?" "No, not yet. Look," I get back to the subject before he has the chance to derail my thought train. "You're mostly right but you have a very bitter, jaded outlook on love. It's not all screaming matches and resentment. That stuff makes you forget about the real reason we look for love. It makes you feel wonderful, wanted, needed. Like you have someone who treasures you despite all your faults and shortcomings." "Friends with benefits can do that." He grins as I give him give him a frustrated sigh, slumping my shoulders. He gives me a big, dazzling smile. "Hey, I'm a stubborn, pig-headed jerk. I'll be the first to admit it. And I know what you mean, I can see your side of it." His features soften into sadness. "I'm just not ready." "I understand." I hold him close to me with both arms and he nuzzles his head against the crook of my neck. It's been so long since I've felt something so intimate and yet so normal. He didn't feel like a stranger in my arms; it's as if we've been a couple for years and this was just one of those affectionate cuddle moments we often share. I close my eyes and thoroughly enjoy the contact. I can feel his even breathing, his chest rising and falling against me. His cheek is warm against my neck, despite the heavy chill in the air. Even his hair is warm, and smells faintly of sweet shampoo. I think about letting this strange, vulgar, young man into my life as a good friend until he comes to his senses and decides he wants to be all mine. I think about how hard it will be not to just sleep with him, and that, when he's ready, the lovemaking will be more than worth it. "DOUG!" Some woman with short, black hair and tons of makeup on comes bursting through the door, yelling like a maniac. We both jump with a start. He tears away from me to stand up and face her. My whole body suddenly feels cold and my arms feel the depressing, empty void of his absence. "Doug, what the fuck, where were you??" She points at him. "You just missed some funny shit!" "Sorry, Nat, I was out here talking to a friend." He glances at me nervously. "So what, you're flat leaving me? Get your ass back in here. We just met up with a bunch of people and I want them to meet you." She trots up to him, takes him by the wrist and begins dragging him away. "C'mon, you need to do your Beavis impression, that's friggin' hysterical." He gives me a helpless look as he halfway drags his feet back to the door. "Excuse me!" I stand up, unwilling to take this bullshit. "Doug and I were talking. He'll join you when he's done." "She points at me, yet addresses him. "Who the hell is this guy?" "I told you, he's my friend. Go inside, I'll be with you in a few minutes." She taps her watch sternly. "Five minutes, child. I already told them about you, don't make a fool out of me." Seems like she's doing a fine enough job of that on her own. I want to tell her so, but she's leaving and I'm really not in the mood to start a bitch-fight with one of his friends. She spins on her heels and trots proudly back through the door. He turns to me and deflates the air from his cheeks. "That's your roomate??" I walk up to him, motioning towards the door. "Does she always treat you like that?" "No, most of the time she's too busy trying to get into my pants." He gives me that smart-assed grin again and I close the distance between us. He slides his hands under my jacket and kneads his palms against my back. I fold my arms around his shoulders and stroke my fingers through his silky locks. "And you've managed to resist?" I smile back. He rests his head on my chest and it's wonderful again. "It's easy when you've got a good idea of where that pussy's been. Like I said, I used to be interested, not anymore." He lets out a soft moan as my hands roam his body from over that baggy hoodie. From what I can feel, he's a bit plump around the middle but that's fine. Not everyone can be a big, lean health nut like me. He looks up into my eyes, resting his prickly chin on my chest. His fingers entwine with my shoulderlength, light brown hair. "I like your do." He grins. "I'm a big sucker for a guy with long hair." "You're a big sucker, huh?" I grin back. "Then be my boyfriend." I look like I'm kidding but I'm not. He squints, tickling me, and I laugh, pulling away a bit. "I don't want to go in there again." He pulls me back against him with a bit of force, locking his hands around my waist. For a little guy, he has some strength to him. "I want to stay out here with you all night." "Even if she comes back out here screaming her head off?" His brow furrows in anger. "Fuck Natalie. She's a stupid whore. In fact, let's go for a walk." His words mixed with that heavy, Brooklyn accent brings me to laughter once again. We clasp hands and start walking away from the building. "Do you know anything about this neighborhood? I don't want to get lost." "If not, you'd better remember where we came from 'cause I've got the sense of direction of a wad of spit." "That's comforting." He mock-smiles. "Ain't it just??" __ This neighborhood is completely desolate right now. No stores are open, and nobody's is on the streets but us, and it's great. We shoot the shit, talk about our lives and some of our past experiences, he makes sure to keep me laughing with his wisecracks and tales of his outlandish misadventures. "Truth is stranger than fiction," he states when he begins to get the inkling I might not believe him. We flirt heavily as we walk, our fingers laced together tightly, brushing our bodies together, every once in a while alternating to walking with an arm around each other. The more we talk, the closer we become, the easier it becomes for me to picture us as a couple. I could just kill the guy he was with last, for hurting him and making him fearful of relationships. We pass by one of those little public playgrounds with the gates still wide open so we go in and sit down on a bench. We sit as close as we can, without being in each other's laps. I wrap an arm around him and there's this long moment where we just stare into each other's eyes wordlessly. I want to kiss him so badly, but it will be the kiss that starts something, and I won't sleep with him if I know it might be the only time. I catch him staring at my lips and smile, knowing what he's thinking. "Are you sure you won't reconsider?" I tip my head to the side, my eyes pleading with him. "Can't you just have trust that I would never intentionally hurt you?" "No and no." He gets that miserable, guilty look on his face again. "I'm sorry. This was probably a bad idea." He begins to get up and it hurts so much that I grab his shoulders and kiss him full on the lips. His whole body stiffens in surprise, but in a moment he yields to me, his body melting against me, wrapping his arms around my torso, returning the kiss with equal fervor. I can't help it. I didn't want to give in, but this is sheer torture. Now I'll just have to make sure it doesn't escalate past a certain point. He, naturally, doesn't have to worry because this is exactly what he wants. As much as I fight it, it's exactly what I want too. He moans against my lips, pushing his sultry tongue in between them to search for mine. My hands migrate from his shoulders, groping down his arms, over his back and finally nestling happily on his hips. His fingers thread through my hair, his nails lightly raking over my scalp. I groan, feeling the quickly swelling package in my pants becoming harder to ignore. His free hand slides up my shirt to feel over my washboard abs and chest. Every touch from him is like stirring the embers, making the fire hotter. Change My Mind The pace of our kiss quickens with our mounting need; I'm screaming at myself internally that I need to stop this. But god-fucking-damnit, his body feels so good, so right, so delicious, writhing against mine. We're making out so hard and furiously now, and all I can think about is just bending him over the fucking bench. Without breaking the kiss, he manages to unzip his hoodie and shrug it off in a matter of seconds. All he's wearing is a black batman teeshirt stretched over a thick, solid, husky frame. I can't get my hands on him fast enough. He climbs on top of me, straddling my lap and wrapping his muscular arms around my neck as I slide my hands under his shirt to feel his soft, hot skin. He grinds his pelvis against my throbbing erection this way and all I can do is moan weakly against him, breaking the kiss for a moment. "Ohh Doug, you know I can't do this..." "Yeah you can." He gasps, bucking his ass against my raging hardon, those plump lips planting soft, suggestive kisses all over my cheeks and neck between words. "You wanna open your pants and have me ride it this way? It'll feel sooo good." Something he'd said earlier, about always having time for play, suddenly resurfaces in my thoughts, and I get this epiphany. I think I might know how to turn his little seduction game around on him. He thinks he's going to make me break my own promise, but if I'm going to, he will too. He needs this a lot more than I do, and I'm going to use it to get what I want as well. "Ohh, you want to feel my cock in you, baby?" I play along, nibbling on his neck. He responds by taking a fistful of my hair and tossing his head back. "Yes, lover, fuck me!" He cries, losing himself in the throes of passion. "Then you know what you need to do, baby." I coax, teasing his lips with my tongue. He lets out a pained growl of protest and kisses me again. I stuff my hands down the waist of his jeans and cup his nice, round, plush ass. He's panting and sweating, grinding himself against the bulge in my jeans while his own rubs against my stomach. I pull my mouth away, scraping his bottom lip between my teeth. "C'mon, baby, don't you want to feel me impaling that juicy, willing ass of yours? Don't you want me to stretch you out?" "Omigawd..." He nearly sobs. "I need it so bad, please!!" I sink my teeth into his neck. "AAGH! Oh fuck yeah!" He digs his nails into my shoulders. My bite melts into licking, sucking and then playful nips. "Just be mine, baby, that's all I want." My breath is hot and ragged from lust against his ear. "Promise yourself to me and I'll fuck you so good it'll make your head spin." "I...ohh no, I can't..." He mutters, tears welling up in his eyes. "Please don't do this to me..." That's fine, I can play this game all damn night if need be, until he gives in. And he will give in. "Just fuck me, lover, I can't take it!" "I'll fuck you, but not before I have you all to myself." I purr, nibbling on his ear. His hands are up my shirt, his nails raking harsh, angry red lines down my back. I cry out in a delicious mixture of pain and ecstasy. "Oh baby! Just say the words and I'll be in you to the hilt!" I squeeze his ass cheeks hard, and he hisses through gritted teeth. "C'mon, say it. You want it so bad, look at you. Just say it!" "I can't!" His whole body is shuddering with desire. His eyes are glossy with emotion. I'm beginning to rethink the whole "I can do this all night" bit. I have willpower, but there's a serious strain on it right now. He suddenly reaches down between us and undoes the fly of my jeans. I can't get my hands out of his pants quick enough to stop him, but when I do, I grab his wrists. He struggles against me and I still him. Now that his hands are in front of me, he pushes me all the way back in my seat, leans forward and shoves his tongue down my throat; hard, ferocious and aggressive, as if he was taking the decision away from me. I let out a guttural groan and prepare myself for the power struggle I know is coming. He manages to wrestle his hands away from me and undo his own fly before I can gain control again. Somehow knowing there's an inch less clothing between us is making this more difficult. He's still dry humping me and it's making me absolutely insane. "You need it so bad, don't you? From a guy you just met?" I try goading him. "You'd rather have casual sex from a stranger, like a slut? Is that what you are, a slut??" I feel his cock twitch against my stomach right through his underwear. "Oh GODS yes!!" He screams, shutting his eyes tight, now humping me harder than before. "I'm such a dirty slut!" Well, that didn't work, but at the very least it got him a lot more turned on. I clamp my teeth on his lower lip again. "Say it." I growl, staring into his eyes. I want him to give in worse than anything so I could just take him already, this is killing me. But he's just as stubborn as I am. He doesn't say anything, all he does is whine and pant like a dog. I decide it's time to take this a step further by reaching down to pull his underwear down, making his tortured, veined member stand straight up. He instinctively bucks his hips against my hand, and I teasingly brush my knuckles right under the sensitive head, causing him to cry out hoarsely. He struggles to get my cock out as well, and before I realize what's he's doing, he's got both our cocks in his hand, stroking them both off at once. The mixture of the dry handjob and the damp friction of our dicks rubbing together is just so amazingly nice. I'm getting so much closer to the point of no return that I don't even care if he means what he says, the words just mean I can fuck him, and right now that's the only thing my brain is registering. I have to...HAVE to get him to say those words. He leans over me to tease those powerful jaws over and down my jugular, all the while working my cock, making me crazy and desperate. "Take me, lover." He mutters, his voice husky from being so out of breath. "Fuck the goddamned daylights out of me, and pump your thick seed into my ass; your little slut needs it." That was it...I'd finally had it. I push him off my lap so his back slams up against the seat of the bench. He lets out this surprised grunt and helps me wrench his jeans and underwear down. I just pull mine down halfway and climb on top of him. He reaches up my shirt again to feel my flushed, overheated body as my cock grinds freely against his now. He moans, arching his pelvis up to meet mine, one of his hands feeling my ass. I grab him by the wrists, holding them both in one hand above his head. From the look in his eyes, I can tell this is exactly how he likes it. He pulls his legs up to his chest, offering his plush, welcoming ass to me. Oh god, just one thrust, I'm so close to having him, all I have to do is stuff my way inside and he's all mine. But I can't, not yet. I have one order of business left. "Ohhh fuckyeaahhh, that's it, just take me! Claim my ass, make me your whore!" He's pushing up against me. The tip of my purple crown pushes right up against the tight ring of his sphincter...it's taking every ounce of willpower to hold my position for the right moment. "What are you waiting for? C'mon, fuck me!!" "Say it, baby." It comes out as a grunt. Sweat pours down my temples and cheeks. I can't take this very much longer. He shakes his head frantically. His hairtie had come off and his long, luxurious dark hair cascades off the bench in every direction. "Please, just push yourself into me!" "I won't...not until you say it. Say you'll be all mine!" I give it that ever-so-slight push and he responds with a sharp, heated cry. "I...I...oh, god fucking dammit, Patch, FUCK ME!!" Tears leak from his eyes. His whole body trembles and quakes. I lean over a bit and drool liberally all over his tensed ass, then rub my cock all over it, lowering my body flush against him. He begins to sob. "Please...please...." "Say you'll be all mine." I repeat, softer this time. He's staring into my eyes and all I see is resignation. I nod slowly and he mimics me. "I...I'm...I'm all..." He chokes down another sob, pushing himself up against me, his brows knitting tight, finally admitting defeat. "I'm all yours, lover." He swallows hard. "I'll be yours for as long as you want me." A giant triumphant grin creeps across my face. I can't help it. I've won, and it feels damn good. I let go of his hands so he can jerk himself off; I give his ass another splash of saliva and at long last, push the bloated head of my cock past his unbelievably tight sphincter. He huffs and gasps for breath as he works his meat off like a madman. "That's a good boy." I purr lovingly, hunching over him, watching every inch of my throbbing flesh disappear into his canal. "Ohhh fuck, you feel so good. That's it, open yourself wide for me." "Give it to me..." He meeps out, digging the back of his head into the cold, wooden bench, he's utterly subservient now. I get it about halfway in and he's panting through his teeth. "Oh gawd, you're so big!" He squeals, and I keep giving him more. "AAHHH! Oh holy fuck!" I'm buried inside him to the hilt now and his ring is clenching and relaxing in pulses around it. It's too amazing for words. He's so tight, so smooth and so incredibly hot. I keep myself deep inside him for a moment, just to bask in the glory of my victory, drinking in the sight of him, my prize, who would do anything I asked of him right now without hesitation. Instead, I only ask for a nice, hot hole to dump my load into. It's he, who makes the first withdraw, and his mouth hangs open as he arches up to impale himself on it with one smooth stroke. I grab his hips and guide his ass up to meet my next thrust. The moans I draw from him are like music, egging me on, keeping me beyond excitement. The harder I pound him, the less he strokes his dick off, until finally he's let go of it altogether in favor of reaching back to hold that sweet ass wide open for my invading member. It's like I'm tethered to him at the crotch, like we're two perfectly harmonized halves of a whole, working as a well-oiled, synchronized machine. He feels so right, so perfect a fit, like we've done this a hundred times. I move forward to push his legs back with my shoulders. His hands now free, he reaches down between us and feels the base of my cock as it saws into him. I lean down to kiss his quivering lips. Our tongues dance furiously, only adding to the passion and urgency of the moment. He grasps at me, trying to pull my ass into him harder. His claws rake up my flanks and I let out a loud groan of pleasure. The rhythm is just right, the angle is perfect; he's lying there taking my cock like a pro and there's nothing in the world I can think of that could be better than this. There's something so satisfying, so liberating about savagely fucking this man out in the open, where anyone could walk by, howling and screaming, daring anyone to come see what all the noise is about. He's been keeping me so excited, so insane with lust that I don't know how much longer I could last. He must have gotten the same notion at the same time because he suddenly slides a hand in between us to stroke himself off again. Because of how hard I'm slamming into him at this point, Doug can do nothing but undulate his hips slightly from under me. I'm leaving him no leverage. I am a man driven, desperate to climax. My senses are in overdrive. I can feel and memorize every contour and nuance of this man's hot canal, even through my brutalization of it. His whole body tenses. He throws his head back, shuts his eyes, his fist merely a blur on his oversensitive cockhead. His ring clenches impossibly tight around my shaft; I feel it working me, milking me off. I can't get enough. I can feel him bringing me towards my goal a little quicker than I'd hoped. I want this to last but my body demands release. "Ohhhgodd, I'm so close..." I mutter almost unintelligibly. He lets out a controlled moan, opening his eyes to watch me, to feast upon my face, contorted and strained in a state of primal bliss. "Cum for me, lover." He hisses, teeth bared. "You feel so good fucking my ass raw." His eyes are glazed and cloudy from being so close to orgasm himself. His ass is clutching my dick on every frenzied stroke and it's not just a sensation in my cock, but overwhelming every taunt muscle, every cell, and every molecule. "So good...ohhh so fucking good..." I mumble to myself, squeezing his thighs so hard my knuckles turn white. I'm teetering right at the edge of completion and it feels like the razor's edge of the universe; it begins and ends with this man's perfect plush ass. My climax accosts me. I'd felt it coming but I'm so unprepared for it's devastating force that I can't even shout out a warning. I let out this hoarse scream as my eruption tears through me and into him. It seems as though his body won't be able to hold it all. I just cum and cum, pumping my load in never-ending ropes deep inside his guts. It becomes so sensitive and yet still so amazingly good that even after the terrible, thundering waves begin to wane, I'm still forcing myself to continue. "Ahh...AHH...Omigawd YES! Oh lover, here I cum!" He cries, his voice cracking from strain. His hole tugs at my spent flesh violently, his seed exploding forth, arching across his chest, shooting over his head and into his own face. His moans and screams, the way his body thrashes around me, the look on his face as his release consumes him, it's all so arousing, if I still had it in me, I would cum again from that alone. Only when he begins to calm down do I allow myself rest. I roll off him and stand up, letting the circulation return to my legs. He merely lies there in shock, trying to catch his breath. My eyes roam over him and I suddenly wonder if he will keep his promise, if he wasn't just paying me lip service so I'd have sex with him. He forces himself up into a sitting position. "Holy crap." Is all he has to say for himself, dusting off his discarded glasses. "That bad, huh?" I chuckle, spotting a water fountain a few yards away. "Dude, the hell with being your boyfriend, I'll be your *bitch* if you can fuck me like that all the time." His eyes meet mine, terribly bloodshot, his gaze unfocused. "It'll be cool, you can keep me chained in your basement, toss me some puppy chow every now and then, maybe a butt plug to keep myself loosened for you? Haha." He swings his legs to sit properly, picks his hoodie up from the ground and wipes the cream off his face with a sleeve. "C'mon, babe, there's a water fountain right here. It'll be freezing but it's better than nothing." "One problem." He holds up a finger for emphasis. "I cannot get up." "Would you like me to carry you?" I grin, already at the fountain, trying to bear the application of ice-cold water on burning hot genitalia. He stares at me for a moment as his pride kicks in. "Nah, I'm cool. I'll be right there." __ We don't make it back to the art space for almost a half hour after we leave the park. We've gotten a bit lost, and Doug wasn't kidding about having a poor sense of direction, he didn't even know when we'd ended up around the block from the park we'd just fucked in. Low and behold, both sets of friends were still there. We come in and the warmth of the place is euphoric. We don't part;, in fact, we invite both groups to mingle, not letting go of each other's hands the whole time. I introduce him to my friends as my new boyfriend and he gives me a comfortable smile, suddenly not so afraid of the commitment. His roomate and the few guys she was talking to, who had forgotten all about the fact that he was supposed to meet them, is told, "This is Patch. I'll be his bitch until I malfunction and he trades me in for a younger model." He even ends up doing that Beavis impression, which is rather frightening. A little while later, my friends go home, his roomate goes home with all three of the guys, and Doug comes home with me. We sleep in each other's arms and I decide that, sometimes, it's not such a bad thing to fuck on the first date.