12 comments/ 10350 views/ 20 favorites Falling for a Jock Pt. 01 By: JerseyBoi1234 This is my first attempt at writing erotic fiction so let me know what you think! All characters are 18 or older. This story contains homosexual content and if you are offended by such, turn away. Enjoy. ***** I woke up the morning of the start of my senior year of high school with a strange sense of confidence that I never seemed to have before. I started my day thinking "Hey! I can do this." I quickly hopped out of bed feeling oddly well rested given that it was the first day of school and I was standing in the bleak light of dawn. I dressed semi-formally, though my family called it preppy: a plaid button-down shirt of a deep purple and black colors with a nicer pair of jeans, though I was adorned in my favorite, formal, black suede shoes. I left quickly after getting dressed, grateful that I would not have to be the one senior that still took the bus to school and that I could drive myself in my car. My family is strictly upper middle class with my parents providing everything that my brother and me needed with a few luxuries, but little more. I hopped in Charles, my car (an old, but well-kept Lexus that used to belong to my dad), and sped off to school thinking about the various aspects of my new school schedule, taking extra time dreading gym class. The gym class philosophy was to do all of the units that were high-maintenance first, which meant that we kicked off the year with swimming. Don't take this the wrong way, I love swimming and I have since I was a child, but with all of these other, unfamiliar people? No thanks. I am slightly self-conscious about my appearance. I'm not overweight, but definitely not muscular either. Maybe underneath my thin layer of flab there is some muscle, but compared to some of my peers, I looked only all right. There were certainly parts of my body that were toned, but no where near muscular. My height also took away some of my appearance of heaviness. I was about six foot four at my last doctor's appointment, rendering me the tallest in my family--by far. I have thick, dense dirty blonde hair that gets curlier as the day goes by with a clean-shaven face. I look nothing like the rest of my family; my blue eyes alone set me apart. My body is not heavy, but a little soft, with hair in my armpits and around my dick exclusively. I'm proud of the appearance of myself, my dick especially. It's not the longest I've seen, but damn it's thick. Though it's not the LONGEST, it's definitely longer than most, about seven inches hard. Unfortunately, I am a virgin. It's not that I never had the chance, more that I want to wait for the right time. During my high school career, I have had no boyfriends, though the entire school knows I'm gay. To say that I've never thought losing my virginity would be outlandish. I watch as much porn as the next guy and have learned a few tricks that I'd like to try out at some point. By the time I made it to gym class, I was ready to take a nap, a several hour-long nap. Gym was my last class of the day, so I already endured my many AP classes so I was ready to collapse. But not just yet! I still had to swim. As I entered the locker room, I took note of the people in my class: no close friends, or even friends. Mostly jocks and weirdos. I quickly changed into my bathing suit, a black and white checkered pair of board shorts, and made my way to the door. I glanced around me to see if I was the only one ready when I saw Marcus Hyde to my left, ass flapping in the wind. I had never had a conversation with him or really ever considered that he is so muscular. His ass was bubbly and perfect while his quads were admirable and juicy. After the summer vacation, his entire body was golden, perfectly tanned. I hurried out of the locker room towards the pool, awkwardly shuffling to hide my growing boner from the rest of the class. By the time I made it over to the bleachers by the pool, my dick had calmed down and I noticed one of my good friends, Victoria, in my class. I was relieved to see that I at least had a partner if I ever needed one. Victoria waved to me, "Hey Graham! How was your summer?" We made small talk until class finally started and we plunged into the frigid water to "learn" to swim properly. I made it through class without drowning, but I never seemed to let the thought of Marcus out of my mind. I knew little about him: only that he plays lacrosse and hockey and fit right in with all the other jocks. I tried not to think about him as I changed, trying to avoid another hard-on. I started to think about the load of homework already building up that I had to do as I pulled up my jeans and stuffed my bathing suit into my bag. By the time I finished packing up all my clothes, I was far beyond thoughts of Marcus, planning out what assignments to do first. As I began walking out of the locker room, I heard boyish whooping and laughing while Marcus was running around the locker room chasing his fellow jock Adam around the room, both of them stark naked. Marcus drew all of my attention; I couldn't care less about Adam. Marcus was magnificent. His muscles rippled as he ran after his friend and his cock bounced up and down with each step. I was pleasantly surprised to learn how large it was, coming very close to my own in appearance. I continued my exit and left school, driving home with thoughts of Marcus's dick running through my mind. He occupied my thoughts as I went home and changed for work. I work at a small diner a few towns over doing whatever they need me to do that day; sometimes I cook burgers, other days I serve food. I applied to The Diner (as it was simply named) for the simple fact that it was not close to me. The chances of running into someone I know there are slim. Not that I hate everything about where I live, it's just nice to have a place where nobody knows you. Work was slow today. Marlene, the owner and manager had me working at the counter, taking orders and working the register. Time passed quickly as a few customers came in every so often. But I was only half there; my mind was stuck on Marcus and his gorgeous body. I was lost in thought when Marcus himself entered The Diner looking flustered and watery-eyed. He sat down at the counter and zoned out. I approached him to take his order, saying, "What can I get'cha?" in a surprisingly confident tone. Perhaps because The Diner was MY territory and I was confident there or maybe it was that strange confidence that I woke up with this morning. "I'll just take a coffee, thanks," he let out softly. I nodded and returned shortly with a porcelain mug and a pot of freshly brewed coffee. I placed the mug in front of him and poured some steaming liquid into it. I walked away and he sat there, still staring into nothing. I wasn't sure what to do next. Marcus was one of three customers in The Diner at the moment and even though I had been perfectly capable of standing at the counter doing nothing prior to his entrance, I blanked. Eventually, I just leaned forward, resting my elbow on the counter and then my head on my elbow and I, too, zoned out. A few minutes later, I heard Marcus say "Why am I friends with these people?" I'd thought it was just something that he muttered under his breath until I realized that he had turned his attention to me. He continued, "I mean, look at you. You have tons of friends, none of which seem like colossal douches or assholes; you look good, like all the time; you seem happy. How do you do it?" I stood up from my awkward resting position and made my way over to where he was sitting. "Well..." I began, unsure of how to respond. "When I meet someone, I have to determine whether or not I respect them, for one thing, and whether or not I think they are a kind, friendly person that I would enjoy the presence of." He nodded his head as if to urge me to continue. "You, for example, appear to be friendly, but I don't understand why you are friends with the people you are friends with, which makes me question your judgment." What has gotten into me? I just openly insulted all of the people that Marcus Hyde was friends with. This could seriously backfire on me. As I was struck with panic, worrying about what I could have potentially just done, he responded, "You know, I don't know why I'm friends with them either. They are terrible people." I flushed with relief. So he didn't like his friends either? I looked at his face that was still slightly watery and felt sorry for him. Before even thinking, I blurted, "Well if you need a new friend, I'd be happy to oblige. Let me know if you ever need me." Not knowing what to do next, I walked away and pretended to busy myself with dirty dishes. Trying to avoid his gaze, I stared down into the soapy water. Why am I doing this? Never once in my life have I had a conversation with Marcus Hyde, let alone offer to comfort him. "When do you get off work?" I heard Marcus ask me cautiously, "or is tonight a bad night?" Before I could respond, I heard Marlene yell to Marcus through the open wall that connected the counter to the kitchen, "He gets off work whenever you need him, Sweet Cheeks." I grimaced. Marlene is a sweet, matronly woman whom I've worked under for several years. By now, I considered her a second mother and since she found out that I'm gay, she has desperately attempted to set me up with someone, including right now, apparently. I hid my contorted expression under a fake laugh that can't have fooled anyone. "I guess I'm done now... Thanks Mar." I started to take off my apron, wondering to myself what could possibly be happening next. Once I was all cleaned up and ready to clock out, I said one final goodbye to her, "Take care Marlene," to which she responded solely with a wink. After putting away my apron I gracelessly walked towards Marcus, bumping into almost everything near me. "So," I said to him, "where to?" I ushered him out the door towards my car, wondering why I didn't see another car anywhere that could possibly be his. "Don't think I'm a total pussy for saying this, but I really just want to go somewhere quiet to talk." Marcus said; I could practically hear him blushing. "I know a place. Come on," I said as I hopped into Charles. "Are you leaving your car here? I don't see it," I continued as Marcus elegantly entered the vehicle. "No, it's not here. I was out with—" he cut himself off and started to take very deep breaths, his face reddening. Now florid with mortification, he added, "Do you mind if we don't talk about that right now?" Unsure of how to reply, I put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot, starting towards our destination. "That's fine," I finally answered, "and don't ask where we're going, if I told you, I'd have to kill you." I teased. I surprised myself with how easily I was interacting with this stunning jock sitting next to me. We joked, laughed and conversed while I drove us to my favorite place in our crappy little city. He never asked where we were going, but I could see the curiosity on his face, especially once I turned up a steep, gravel road. The road wove endlessly through a forest of trees while climbing steadily up a large hill. As I drove, I could sense him starting to relax, which relieved me greatly. Finally, the hill leveled out and we reached our destination. I've been here several times, but have never even considered bringing anyone here with me. So what changed? Why am I bringing Marcus here now? This is my sanctuary. My place. I hoped that this was not a mistake. I parked Charles and went towards the trunk to remove my old, scratchy picnic blanket that I use whenever I come out here. Marcus followed, still keeping his curiosity at bay. We walked at a leisurely pace down the small path of trampled grass that lead to our endpoint. The temperature was abnormally warm for a September night, but it was comforting; not too hot, but also not shiver-inducing. Marcus talked, mostly. He told me about different facets of his life: how he enjoyed lacrosse and hockey but hated the people involved with it, how he had to work additionally hard in school to break the legacy that his older siblings left for him, and how he felt like something was missing from his life. I could tell he was surprised when we finally got to the clearing that we'd been walking towards. As you approach it, the meadow doesn't look like much. Once you are standing in it, you can see the city of Albany sprawling beneath you as well as the shimmering stars above you. The hill doesn't have a formal name, I just call it The View, since from so high up, you can see the entire city glowing beneath you. "Wow," I heard Marcus say with his jaw dropped. "This is my little haven. I found it a few years ago and I've been coming here regularly since then," I responded quietly. We spread out the blanket on the grass and sat on it. "Sorry," I apologized, realizing how small the blanket was for the two of us, "I usually come here alone, so the blanket is fine for just me." "It's fine, really," he assured me, "I don't mind." We continued to talk, this time I participated more, telling him about my family, and my life. It was strange how this person sitting next to me seemed so different from my original perception of him. I liked being able to know his true self, more than just with his jock friends. "I really appreciate you taking me here tonight, Graham," he said to me. Before I could respond, he reached forward and kissed me, slowly at first, but with growing intensity. I was stunned, sitting there I did nothing at all, so finally he pulled off of me, assuming that I was in horror. "I..." I started. I leapt forward, hoping my lips would explain what seemed impossible to say with words. Our lips met and wove together. The taste of Marcus's mouth was unimaginably erogenous. I felt my insides start to melt as our tongues wrestled and I breathed in the scent of him: musky and woodsy but sweet. My eyes were sealed shut with the passion of the kiss. Everything about him seemed perfect: his lips were delightfully smooth and sensual; his scent was intoxicating—and just when I started to feel like something was missing, he reached up with his hands, running them through my hair. I wrapped my arms around him in response as our lips continued to move together. Without stopping, Marcus got up on his knees, his lips never leaving mine, and crawled forward, sprawling me out underneath him as he laid on top of me. My hands moved lower down his back while our lips continued to fuse together. Marcus's muscles felt glorious on my supple skin. The pressure of his body on mine filled me with even more lust. He wasn't heavy; it comforted me to have him on top of me. How could someone so strong still feel so soft? I felt a rush of power and rolled both Marcus and myself over, placing me on top of him. We were constantly moving around, changing position, our bodies working perfectly in tandem, even our breathing was synchronized. After God knows how long, Marcus pulled off of me, as he was now on top of my once more. We were both breathing heavily. "Damn" he sputtered, my mind racing. I was unable to comprehend what had just occurred, though I was unsatisfied now that we had stopped. He continued, "Do you mind leaving it at that for now? This is just shocking, that's all," I frowned and he quickly added, "Not that this isn't wonderful." I was at a loss for words, so I laced his hand in mine, and rested my head on his chest. All I was aware of was the soft cotton and inebriating scent of his shirt as we drifted into sleep. Falling for a Jock Pt. 02 This is my first attempt at writing erotic fiction so let me know what you think! All characters are 18 or older. This story contains homosexual content and if you are offended by such, turn away. Enjoy. ***** All I was aware of was the soft cotton and inebriating scent of his shirt as we drifted into sleep. When I regained consciousness, I became aware of the chilling temperature that seemed so drastically different from last night and the shiver-provoking breeze that rustled through the trees. I felt a warm presence under my head and arms, though it did little do stop me from shaking in the frigid zephyr. "You're cold," a gentle voice said. It wasn't a question; a statement. After hearing the voice I realized where I was, and whom I was with. Before I could react to my surroundings, I was swept into his set of strong arms and he rolled me under him, wrapping the shabby blanket we had been laying on around us. I opened my eyes for the first time in hours and smiled at him, "Marcus." The warmth of his body surrounding me was snug and satisfying. As I gazed at him, I took in, for the first time, the beauty of his features. His face was angular, but somehow soft, with a square, sharp jawline, covered in a dusting of morning stubble; his clear, brown eyes, proportionate nose, and delicate, light coral lips were all perfectly symmetrical. His beauty was overwhelming. Without saying a word, Marcus extended his neck, reaching down to brush his lips slowly against mine. We picked up where we left off last night almost instantly. This time, however, my hands caressed his muscular back underneath his shirt, his hands on either side of my head. He kissed me tenderly and keenly. I felt him shiver on top of me, realizing how icy my hands were. "Sorry," I stated, peeling my lips from his, regrettably, and taking my hands out from his shirt while trying to warm them. I heard him chuckle as he lifted up my hands and slid them back to where they should be. Taking his hint, I reached back up to kiss him again. We resumed our kiss without delay, our breathing syncing up, our minds working as one. As our lips ground together, I was filled with a warming sensation—not lustful, but sweet and sincere. I felt myself smile in response to the feeling and Marcus smiled with me. "Why are you smiling?" I asked him between short kisses. "Because you're smiling," he responded, as though it was obvious, while pulling off of me. His answer made the warm feeling inside me grow, existentially. "Why are you smiling?" he asked back to me. "I'm happy," I said, simply. Then it hit me: it was Friday; we had school. I gasped. I'd never skipped school before. "What? What?" Marcus answered with panic and concern in his voice. He looked around us, trying to find the problem. Under my breath, I muttered, "It's Friday. We have school." "Shit, you're right!" he laughed, not seeming too worried about missing the second day of school. "Don't worry," he continued, "I'll take care of it. We can skip. My Godmother works in the Attendance Office. Will you're parents know that you aren't there? Wow, we were here all night! Will they worry about you?" His suddenly concerned tone made me happy that he was worried about me. "No. I should be okay. They are usually asleep before I get home from work and I leave before they wake up on Fridays. They work from home on Fridays. Will you be okay?" I said back to him, appreciating his concern and returning his worry with my own. He grinned, "I told my parents I would be out last night, though I'm sure this is not what they were expecting. Let me call my Godmother, Rose." He pecked me quickly on the lips as he stood up and exited our happy little bundle. I instantly missed his presence and felt chills. His grace was effortless as he strolled away on his phone. Remembering the sweatshirt I tossed in the backseat of Charles a few days ago, I raised myself from the patchy blanket and sauntered over to the car to retrieve it. By the time I found and dressed myself in the tattered and stained sweatshirt, Marcus had returned to the blanket and beckoned me back to him with a shimmering smile. When I bundled myself next to him, I laid my head on his chest and stretched an arm across him while he put a hand to my hair. He whispered to me, "How is it that I know nothing about you but feel like I've known you forever at the same time?" "I was just wondering the same thing. Ask me anything. Anything," I beamed up to him. A look of curiosity came across his face. "Favorite movie?" he asked cautiously. I snorted. "That's what you pick? At least it's an easy one. Phantom of the Opera. Hands down—but not the crappy film; the filmed stage production. The 25th Anniversary addition with Ramin Karimloo, my dream man." I chuckled to myself. At least, my former dream man, I thought to myself. "Something about his voice entrances me and captivates my attention." "Well, I look forward to watching it with you," Marcus said back to me with an interested expression. "You're turn. Ask me something." And so we continued with our inquiries, asking about favorite foods, songs, memories, smells. It went on until we could pretend to ignore our rumbling stomachs no longer. Marcus suggested we go to his house to whip up some breakfast, since his parents were both at work. I realized as we were leaving The View that I had no clue where he lived, so I drove and Marcus directed. About twenty minutes later, we pulled into the driveway of his house. We entered through the back door of the garage and walked inside. I decided that I wanted to impress him so once we were in the kitchen I had him sit down and look away while I made us breakfast. We resumed talking, asking each other questions about our lives. I realized I had no idea what to make him, so when it was my turn, I asked his favorite breakfast food. Luckily, it was an omelet with ham, cheese and peppers, so I got to work making one for him and one for myself. "This is amazing. Maybe best ever," Marcus complemented after he took his first bite of the piping hot eggs. I smirked, omelets were one of the first things I ever learned to cook, "The secret to a great omelet is finishing it in the oven." He could only nod his head in agreement; he couldn't speak with so much food in his mouth. I decided it was time to address the anxiety building inside me, so before he could talk again I said, "I know at some point we need to talk about everything that's happened in the past 24 hours, but can we wait a little longer please? I feel so great here right now and I don't want anything to change." I could feel myself blushing. Marcus swallowed, "Sure, it needs to happen, but I'm not ready either." He grabbed my hand on the table, making my heartbeat race and causing me to blush even more. "Let's kick this game up a notch. Tell me something about yourself. Something personal." Before I even thought about it, I blurted out to him, "I'm still a virgin." I regretted it quickly, looking straight down at the table, not wanting to meet his gaze. As a popular jock, stories of Marcus's sexual adventures were spread around the school often. I was embarrassed. I heard him get up out of his chair, though I was still looking down. 'Great,' I thought to myself, 'What have I done?' I heard a sniffle and I was whisked out of my seat and onto my feet. Marcus took me into a warm embrace, his eyes beginning to water. "Me too," he said in between his teary breaths, "All of the rumors around school are lies that my friend Chuck made up to make me seem cooler. I hate it." 'Great,' I groaned to myself, 'Chuck: Douchebag of the year, four years running.' This piece of knowledge about Marcus made me rethink everything that I thought of him prior to yesterday. I tried my best to comfort him. I pulled the hug even tighter, rubbing his head and back. It didn't seem to work. I let go of him and instead of a hug, I practically attacked him with my mouth. This kiss was far different from the previous ones. Though I thought our previous kisses had been filled with care and tenderness, this was unlike them. There we were: standing in the kitchen, lips locked in an amorous kiss, both of our eyes closed, still moist with tears. After a minute of our tongues grappling and our hands caressing each other, I softly bit his lip with my teeth and heard him make a growling noise full of lust. Without warning, Marcus lifted me into his arms, holding me in the air. Our lips never broke contact as he moved his hands to a position for him to keep me in the air longer. His pleasant hands relaxed me as we gently moved them around my lower back, my legs wrapped around his arms and torso. It was a testament to his strength that he could clutch me so steadily in the air for so long. Before I knew it, we were moving, though I didn't know why, or care, frankly. We traveled up, our lips harmonizing as wonderfully as ever. Eventually, I landed with a soft thud on what I presumed to be his bed. I opened my eyes, taking in the appearance of his room: very large with marine blue walls, with posters of musical artists all over one of the walls, an old pine desk along the wall with the posters and a small, old piano in the far corner next to an acoustic guitar. I had no idea Marcus was a musician. Then, I breathed, taking in the luxurious scent of his room. It was a scent similar to that of his shirt last night, multiplied a hundredfold. It smelled like pure desire: musky, like a hot sweaty jock, woodsy, like a carpenter, and smooth linen, like fresh sheets. I became aware of my growing erection as Marcus crawled on top of me, picking up where we left off. He moaned as he climbed on top of me, no doubt because of my obvious boner, but I didn't care. In fact, I started to take of his grey cotton shirt. When it was finally off, I got a whiff of his armpits, which were uncharacteristically hairy, and irreversibly hot. It sent me over the edge. I flipped him over, taking control. My mouth left his as I traced down his body with kisses. For an eighteen year old, Marcus had the chest of a middle-aged bodybuilder, full and hard. I showered it with kisses and licks, still taking in the scent of him. I made it to his left nipple. He gasped as I sucked down on it—hard, and let out a moan when I lightly bit down. I continued over his chest until I made it to the other nipple, treating it the same as the previous one. Finally, I moved to his pits, biting, licking, sniffing, tasting and loving the muscle and hair that made up the junction. Taking equal amounts of time worshipping each one. I heard constant moaning, no doubt a combination of both us. As our lower bodies gyrated together, I noticed his cock was hard as a rock, just like mine. They ground together as I moved my mouth back to his to kiss him once more. Shortly after returning to his mouth, he lifted my shirt up as I had done his and threw it across the room. His sexual energy fueled mine even further. I progressed down away from his mouth once more. This time tracing the outline of his robust abs with wet kisses. As I traced lower down his abs, I reached a treasure trail I didn't realize that he had. It drew my attention down to the real prize. I followed the trail down with more kisses as I pulled down his blue jeans. Leaving his tight orange bikini briefs on, I grasped his cock, marveling in its structure. Before I could remove the erotic, close-fitting briefs, Marcus took back control and rolled us over, putting him on top again. He wasted no time ripping off my uniform black jeans and taking my Calvin Klein trunks with them. He looked down at my dick and looked up at me giving me the naughtiest grin I'd seen on anyone's face. Marcus dove down onto my cock. He started by licking and nipping at the base of my dick and traveling up the shaft before reaching the tip. Once at the head, he took just the tip in his mouth, swirling it around with his tongue and sending rushes of pleasure up my body. I was moaning incessantly, when he suddenly dropped down, engulfing nearly half of my dick with his mouth. I could tell he had hoped to dive down further by the disappointed grunt he made when my cock reached his throat. He bounced back quickly, moving back up to the head and flicking his tongue up and down my slit before gulping back down as far as he could. Marcus continued this pattern until I felt myself nearing my climax. Wanting this to last longer, I stopped him. "My turn," I said to him with thirst in my eye. We rolled over again on his soft bedspread. Now that it was my turn, I was ready to take over. I practically ripped off his skimpy underwear, briefly taking in the appearance of his dick. Apparently I got the wrong impression in the locker room yesterday; his cock was much larger than I expected, probably eight or nine inches in length and nearly as wide as mine. His pubes were well trimmed but still present around his huge, cut dick. His balls were huge, sagging down below his cock. I grasped the lower half of his shaft and sunk down on his prick, meeting my hand about halfway. His dick was glorious, tasting better than the intoxicating scent of his hairy armpits. I sucked up and down Marcus's cock in sync with his moaning, occasionally flicking my tongue over his slit as he had done to me. I compulsively decided to try to deepthroat his dick, testing out what I had seen done in so many pornos. When his cock reached my throat, Marcus became even more vocal, yelling, "Fuck," or just simply groaning, "Oh God." I relaxed my jaw and swallowed down his prick further and further, resisting the urge to gag. There was about an inch left on his cock, but I couldn't push myself down any further, so I bobbed my head up and down his dick, still trying to swallow as much as possible. Eventually, I pulled off his cock to shower it with spit and kisses. I stroked it as I lapped the base of his shaft. I moved down to his balls, still stroking his member. I took one concisely in my mouth for a moment, whooshing it around with tongue before then taking the other and doing the same. I moved back to his cock and slurped it down repeatedly. "Oh God. Fuck. Please let my suck your cock again," Marcus whimpered to me. But I wasn't willing to stop yet, so I turned myself around and lowered my pelvis towards his face, my mouth never leaving his shaft. The sensation of having my cock sucked while sucking another was unmatched by any other experience in my life. Having Marcus swallowing down my dick only made me hornier and suck dick harder. Soon enough, I felt myself nearing climax again. I could tell Marcus was close too; his entire body has getting tenser. "I'm gonna cum," I heard him shout. I kept going, working his member with my mouth and hand. His whole body seized up and a load of hot, sticky cum shot out of his dick and into my mouth. Before I had a chance to revel in the taste, more cum erupted from his dick. I swallowed it down but he kept shooting until he had shot more than seven loads into my mouth. I savored the last bit in my mouth and yelled loudly as I felt myself tense up as Marcus just had. "Give me your load," Marcus ordered me. The sexy baritone of his voice commanding me to cum sent me over the edge and I shot the biggest load of my life into his waiting mouth. I felt myself shoot load after load, with my mouth still on his cock. I heard a sonorous gulp as Marcus swallowed the last of my cum. I lifted myself off of him to turn around and give him a kiss. Our lips locked and I immediately tasted my own cum on his tongue as I'm sure he tasted his on mine. Our kiss lasted for several minutes, with our sweaty, exhausted bodies intertwined on his bed. Finally, he broke the kiss said, "Maybe it's time to have that talk."