8 comments/ 35917 views/ 12 favorites Stephen Ch. 01 By: SixtyMinuteMan Dedicated to Krista, since it's her favorite. With thanks to her and to Melanie for their input and Melanie especially for her editing. Even though it's in "Group Sex", this story contains a heavy M/M theme. If that's not your thing, you might want to move along. *** I rolled into the yard an hour or so before dawn on what looked to be a beautiful spring morning. The plan was for me to meet my new road partner and head out early- we had hundreds of miles to cover and many weeks' worth of work at the end of them. Normally the boss would break something like this up, send a couple guys for a while, then a couple others, like that, but I didn't care about being on the road for weeks and months. And I was his most reliable guy, he wasn't going to complain about me handling the whole task. It meant he wouldn't have to send anyone else out to fix anything, which was the normal course for a job this big. We'd decided that the best plan would be to rotate my assistants as they wore out and just let me go for as long as I could stand it. I was pleased to see that he'd shown up early enough to see me off. That's class. He wasn't scheduled to be in for almost three hours, but here he was to make sure everything went smoothly for me. We loaded my truck, went over some of the job specs, and sat down in his office with our coffee. After a few minutes he glanced at his watch. "Half an hour late, now. Not a good start." "Nope," I said. "Who're you sending, anyway?" "You know Stephen? Little guy, works for Loretta?" "The one with the stereo?" "Yeah," he said with a grin. The guy in question had a ridiculously jacked-up truck with a stereo you could hear from 3/4 of a mile away. I'm all about the good tunes in my ride, but there's no need for volume that you can literally hear vibrating the vehicle apart. "What'd I do to you, man?" I said with a laugh. He grinned again. "Loretta says he's okay. Does his work. And he's been bugging her about getting the extra money on the road. Which reminds me, he's gonna ask you about rooming up." "Sure, long as he's not intolerable." At this company we got paid a per diem allowance instead of the company directly paying for our rooms. Which of course meant we all stayed at the cheapest places we could find and pocketed the rest of the money. If you roomed up you could really save some loot, it amounted to a nice, legal, tax-free raise. "One thing, Ken. What Loretta actually said was, 'He's okay as long as you partner him with a white guy.' Just a heads-up, you've got a lot of friends that look like me. You might want to do your drinking in cracker bars if he's going with you." "Sheee-it. Thanks a lot. You're officially off my Christmas card list." "Hey," he said with a laugh, "at least he's small. If worse comes to worst you can smack him around some. Which I'm gonna do if he doesn't get his ass in here." He grabbed the phone to wake the guy, Stephen, up. I wandered outside to enjoy the morning air instead of listening to a bitching-out, but a moment later he followed me, phone in hand. "His truck's broke," he said without preamble. "Wants to know if he can ride with you." The look he gave me was wry. I shook my head with a little laugh. "Sure, why not," I said. "Save me waiting while he gets that pig stuck in every patch of rock. Tell him to pack light and leave most of his tools, we'll work out of my stuff." "Pack light," he said into the phone. "Ken's got better tools than you, anyway. Just bring your cordless and whatever cable tools fit in one bag, none of your hand stuff. And leave the pretty dresses." He gave me the phone so I could get directions to Stephen's place, and I was off within a few minutes. Fortunately he was kind of on my way out of town, I didn't have to go an hour the wrong way or anything. At least he was ready when I got there. And he'd followed instructions, he only tossed two bags in the back of the Bronco, plus a tool bag and his cordless drill set. He was cute enough. Small, as the boss had said, no more than 5'4" and slight of build, with collar-length light blonde hair and a pretty face. I grinned to myself. "Now, Ken," I thought. "Don't go thinking of fucking the young man. No doubt he's far too macho for that." He climbed in and we were off. My suspicion of his would-be macho attitude was confirmed within the first few minutes of conversation, when I asked where he'd been working. "So, you're one of Loretta's guys," I said. "Were you working in the Bay Area, then?" "Yeah, for a couple weeks at a time," he said. "Glad to be out of there, man." "Why's that? Didn't get along with Loretta?" I could almost hear his answer before he gave it. "Nah, bro. Too many fuckin' faggots up there. We saw dudes just walking down the street holding hands." "Oh my god, how awful! You must have been traumatized! Good thing they didn't kiss, you might have PTSD!" Sigh. He looked at me like he was pretty sure I was giving him shit but not quite positive. Or maybe he was sure, but taking stock of the difference in our sizes. We had better than a five-hour drive to the first site to get to know each other. His conversational interests seemed limited to trucks (he couldn't understand why I didn't jack mine up like his), hip-hop music (yep, a racist who listened to black music. If only they were rare), football (Raiders fan, of course), pussy (apparently he'd had all of it on the West Coast), and pro wrestling. Especially the last. I'm not without my own character faults. One of them is that I always make an assumption about guys like him: Homophobic, falsely macho to an extreme degree, massively insecure, and obsessed with a form of entertainment that should really be classified as repressed gay porn seems to me to lead to an inevitable and obvious conclusion. Repressed homosexuality, latent homosexuality, whatever term you want to use, the boy was hungry for some cock. I almost laughed aloud the first time we stopped for gas. He came out of the little mini-mart and stood by me while I watched the pump roll. I could see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye. "Dude," he said admiringly. "You're, like, all yoked up. You're diesel." "Am I? I'm only about two hundred, still a cruiserweight most of the time. I guess I don't think of that as too big, my best buddy has like eighty pounds of muscle on me." "You mean Shawn? I worked on one of his jobs. That dude is cock-strong." "And head-sure." 'Cock-strong?' Are you kidding me? Why don't you just get some hot-pants and a mesh shirt, man? That image made me smile. He would definitely be cute all twinked up. Hell, he was pretty damned cute anyway. Easy, Ken. We will not be attempting to turn the little angry boy out. Even if we think we know better than he does what he's angry about. Or maybe I would. Stephen's urge toward men turned out to be some extremely low-hanging fruit. I'd have been a fool not to pick it. He was practically begging for it, from the very first night. Tired from the long drive and the bit of work we'd been able to do, I crawled into the shower as soon as we got to our room. When I came out wrapped in a towel he just couldn't manage to take his eyes off me. He was so enthralled by my torso that I don't think he was even aware that I was watching him watch me, or that I found it funny. You know there's no way I could let something like that lie. I decided to see how far I could press, see how he'd react. After dinner we sat around playing video games and watching the tube for a while. It was still early when I announced my intention to hit the sheets. "Alright, man. That's about it for me, that drive wiped me out. Don't feel like you've gotta turn off the tube or anything, I'm just gonna stretch out and read for a while 'til I doze off." "Okay, cool," he said. I moved over by the closet, which was right next to his bed, and stripped down. "Hope you don't mind," I said. "I have to sleep naked, if I wear anything it feels like I'm tied up or something." "Y-yeah. That's okay," he stammered, his eyes locked on me. He wasn't radar-locked on my cock, but his gaze certainly never climbed above my chest. I stretched out on my bed, leaving the covers to one side, and spent an hour or so working on my book. It wasn't hard to see him staring. He watched an infomercial for like half an hour, on mute, because he was so busy looking at me he didn't notice his show had ended. For the next few days that was the pattern. I started showering as soon as we got to the room and just stayed naked, or near it, from then on. And his fascination never wavered, not in the slightest. If anything, it seemed to grow. He did get enough control to stop staring like a 12-year old at Hef's place, but his eyes never left me for long. And I started adding some physical contact to the game. I'd put a hand on his shoulder as I gave him instructions at work, lean over him, arm on his shoulder, to point something out, clown around physically a little in the room, whatever occurred to me. He quickly got used to me sitting naked beside him while we played video games, so much so that he'd shift over to make room on his bed as soon as one of us suggested it. I kept expecting a protest, but none was forthcoming. Of course, I hadn't made a move on him yet. That's always the tough one, putting a move on a guy who thinks he's straight. The game was fun, though, and doing a good job of helping the otherwise dull evenings pass. And I could live with it if it didn't go further, it had started as a game and could end that way. I admit my fetish for turning homophobes, but it doesn't bug me to miss. Thursday morning I stepped into the bathroom just after his shower, as he was standing at the sink getting ready to brush his teeth. All he was wearing was his underwear- black bikinis, I shit you not, like he should have a gold medallion around his neck, a hairy chest, and heavy cologne. Or different genitalia. "Nice panties, princess. Scootch over a little, and give me some of that." I bumped him over a little with my bare hip and held my toothbrush out toward the toothpaste he still held. I'd placed a hand on his opposite hip as I moved him and I left it there as I brushed my teeth. He stiffened, but didn't protest. His toothbrush hardly moved as he stood by me, staring at me in the mirror. I took a little longer than I had to, shifting my hand a little to hold his hip as I leaned down to spit, then patted him on the ass as I finished. "C'mon. We've got a lot to do today. Quit staring and brush." I grinned, winked, playfully pushed his head, and went to get dressed. He was quiet on the ride to the site, but perked up at my good mood and was bantering happily soon enough. The mood lasted through the day, it even survived a semi-humorous conversation along the lines of, "Hey, man, it's just you and me, here. Just relax, okay? I'm not gonna think less of your manhood if you don't act like a sucked-up, macho asshole all the time. I promise." It was at least the third such conversation we'd had, but this was the first time he didn't get tense at it. I pushed it again at the end of the day. The site was on top of a small mountain or very large hill, and had a great view in three directions. The sunset was just gorgeous as we were packing up. I stopped to look at it as he was talking about something, telling me that my music was growing on him as I recall. After a moment I put a hand on his shoulder and gently turned him to face the west. "Shh. Check that out. Beautiful, isn't it?" I was half behind him as he turned, and I pointed over his shoulder with the hand I'd used to turn him. It sort of naturally put my arm around him, and I just left it there, draped down across the crook of his neck. Not only did he not resist, he actually looked back over his shoulder at me for a moment as I watched the sunset. It was long after dark when we got back to the room after dinner, and I headed straight to the shower. When I came out he was watching wrestling. I grabbed my book and flopped down on my bed, but watched the TV for a minute. "See," I said, "I don't get how anyone sees this as anything but gay porn." "Shut up!" he said with a laugh. "There's nothing gay about it!" "Really? You've got two guys, extremely well-built, half naked, oiled up and grappling each other. I mean, if it was combat that'd be one thing, but it's all fake. Which means they're just putting on a sex show, right? It's like hot oil wrestling for repressed queers." "Shut up! It's not fake, it's scripted!" "Oh, well, there's an important distinction. I'm not sure what it is, but I'm sure it's there." "Besides, a lot of girls like wrestling," he said, still laughing. "My girlfriend likes wrestling." "And a lot of girls like gay porn. It's cool, man, you like to watch muscular, half-naked men grope each other. I'm casting no stones." "Hey, you're not one to talk! You're muscular and half-naked most of the time. Or all naked, like now!" "So, what, you want to watch me grapple those guys, is that what you're saying? They're kind of big for me. I can still find my nuts without a search party, I'm not in their class." "No!" he laughed. "Ah, I get it. You want me to grapple you!" I leaped suddenly off my bed onto his, bouncing on top of him. He laughed, almost a shriek, and we wrestled around for a good few minutes. I had him by better than sixty pounds and could easily have controlled him, but it was more fun to roll around grabbing and tussling and watching him laugh. Finally I pinned him down, sitting astride his stomach and holding his wrists down on either side of his head. My cock was a little chubby and I could feel the head of his poking against my ass cheek. "Do you surrender?" "No!" He laughed and tried to squirm away. "Is this where I pin you for a three-count? Oh, wait, that's real wrestling. I'm supposed to pick you up and throw you down a few times first." The wrestling was back on for a minute, and the laughing. I grabbed him with one arm over his shoulder and the other under his crotch, picked him up and bounced him off the bed a couple times. His cock pressed against my arm, hard enough to etch glass. When he went slack and quit fighting, I rolled back on top of him. This time I was a little higher on his torso, my hands on his shoulders, my half-erect cock laying on his chest. His breath came in great, laughing gasps, and we were both a bit sweaty. "Now I pin you," I said with a laugh. "Get off me, fag!" He was laughing as he said it, but he immediately gasped and put a hand over his mouth. "It's okay, Stephen. It's different when it's light-hearted teasing. You can call me fag when we're all sweaty and laughing and happy 'cause we've been wrestling. Or, y'know, 'cause I've been corn-holing you." I grinned. "Get off!" We both laughed and I let him push me off. He immediately bounced to his feet above me and pointed an accusing finger. "You're a faaaag!" He said it in a big voice, almost singing it. "I can't believe you attacked me naked! I need a shower!" "Don't act like you didn't like it, Stephenie. Wearing my ball-sweat is a small price to pay." I slapped the backs of his ankles, flipping him onto his back on the bed. He laughed as he bounced. "Shut up! And get out of my bed! You're sweating all over it." I joined him at the sink again the next morning, again shifting him with a bare hip and standing with my hand on his waist while I brushed my teeth. I was groggy, and it took me a minute to notice he had another pair of the bikini briefs on, this time in blue. "Yeah, those are cute," I said, snapping his waistband, "but I kind of like pink panties. Got any of those?" "Shut up!" He bumped me with his hip and just for a second I saw a surprised look on his face, like he couldn't believe he'd just done that. "They're not panties," he said with a laugh. "There's not even an airlock in the front," I teased. I reached around further and pulled the waistband out again, this time right in front, and let them snap back. "Jockeys have an airlock. Those are panties. It's okay, though, they're cute." I patted him on the butt, which didn't even tense him up this time. "Come on, uke," I said. "Hurry up. It's Friday, I want to get finished." We grabbed some breakfast and headed out to the site. I was glad this was the last trip to this particular location, the road to it was nasty and muddy and rocky and very annoying to drive repeatedly. "About this weekend," I said along the way, "I assume I'm driving you home? Will you be able to get your truck to a mechanic on the weekend, or do we need to leave late Monday? 'Cause normally I don't go home every weekend, it's way too long a drive. It's no problem this weekend, I know you didn't plan on your truck breaking, but if you go home every week you'll need to get it taken care of." "What do you usually do on weekends if you don't go home?" "Depends. When we hit Vegas..." I flipped a hand over in an 'it's obvious' kind of gesture. "Yeah, sure. But what would you do here in One Horse?" "Find a bar, paint it red, see if any of the local flavor follows me home. Try to make a date to guide me around the local sights tomorrow. Roll out to the next site Sunday unless something grabs my eye here." "Um... I don't need to go home if you want to put it off 'til another weekend. I'm not spending any money on gas riding with you, and all I'll do is play Playstation if I go home. My girlfriend and I are fighting, she's at her mom's back east." "Up to you." "Then we'll stay." He paused. "Hey, what was that you called me this morning?" "What, uke?" "Yeah." "It's Japanese." I grinned. "It's, um, nuanced. It's hard to translate. I'll save it for our next long drive. Basically, it means 'small man.' Or maybe 'small, pretty man.' Like I said, it's hard to translate. It's not an insult." It's not hard to translate at all. But damned if I'm going to just now. "Uke," I said again, pointing to him. "And seme." I pointed to myself. "What's that," he said, "like, 'large man?'" "Kind of." No. "Again, it's hard to translate. And it's hard to concentrate on this bumpy road. Remind me next time we've got a long-ass drive, I'll explain it." (To save some googling for those unfamiliar with the terms, seme is a top, uke is a bottom. Roughly. In yaoi, the uke is almost always drawn small and effeminate, the seme larger and butch. Well, more butch. It is anime, after all. Nobody's exactly Wolverine in anime.) The day passed quickly enough. We finished up at the site, drove back in, had some dinner, showered up, and went out looking for trouble. Almost found some, too. We got drunk, and Stephen was being the obnoxious version of himself. I was making time with a couple girls, thinking I was buttering one up for my little wing man, when I saw him getting into it with one of the local guys. The guy was obviously a bully. He'd glared at me as we passed each other earlier, unhappy that we were horning in on the best looking girls in One Horse, but hadn't said anything. Now he'd cornered the smaller guy and felt his oats a bit more. I sighed. "Ladies, I have to go rescue my friend from Cooter, over there. Shall we order another round and move up to that booth back there?" Fortunately the confrontation was quick and non-violent. I pointed out to Cooter and one of his buddies the likelihood of them ever succeeding with those girls if a 125-lb man and I beat them until they pissed themselves, and they had just enough sobriety left to look at their pendulous guts, my shoulders, and the pool cue Stephen was holding and do the math. Stephen Ch. 01 My uke had done the math, too. The look he gave me as we went to join the girls was damn near worshipful. We did well, or at least I did, but at the end of the evening the girls felt they were too drunk to make a decision to come to bed with us, and I didn't press. I'm 99% sure they'd have made a different decision if my trusty wing man wasn't absolutely bombed off his ass and incapable of holding up his end, but hey. We've all flamed out as wing men, after all, right? No? Oh. We did make plans to meet the next morning and see the local sights. Such as they were. It wasn't even that late when Stephen and I staggered back to the hotel. He fell straight onto his bed, still dressed, and I wasn't far behind him in passing out. I managed to get out of my clothes, but that's it. Couldn't have been much later that I awoke to the sound of retching. I laid there a second wrestling with my conscience before sitting up to look. He was a mess, puke all over his bed and himself. Just nasty. "Fuck, Stephen." I wasn't expecting an answer, but he was at least partly aware. "Sorry, dude." Retch. "Alright, come on." I half-carried him into the bathroom, dumped him in the tub, and turned the shower on him. "Clean yourself up, man. I'm gonna take care of your bed." Which I kept simple by just shoving his bedding out onto the balcony and closing the door. He hadn't made much progress when I got back. I stripped him down and cleaned him up, made him use some mouthwash, then carried him back to the bedroom. Even in my drunken state I got a grin out of his arms going around my neck as I carried him. They stayed there as I fell on the bed, his body half on top of mine for its entire length and his head resting in the crook of my neck, face turned toward me. And that's how we slept. Well, I slept. He passed out. I don't know what the hell I dreamed, but when I woke up I had a firm handful of his ass. I left my eyes closed for a minute, trying to sort out asleep from awake, and it gradually dawned on me that what I was feeling on my cock wasn't a bed sheet wrapped around it, nor was it my hand. It had to be his hand. I grinned a little. Here I was surprised to wake up holding his ass, if he woke up with his hand there his head would explode. My cock was absolutely bone-hard. As my brain sorted out the various signals it was getting I realized that his was, too, pressed against my hip. His head was half on my shoulder and half on the pillow by mine, his left arm still under my neck. It occurred to me after another moment that it was really quite a nice ass I had in my hand. Nice for a boy or a girl. Firm, round, neither too big nor too small... nice. Which didn't do anything to make my hard-on subside. I felt it when he woke up. First the hand on my cock squeezed it a bit, then his upper body and the leg draped over mine shifted, then all at once he went rigid. Very slowly his head shifted. I closed my eyes as he lifted up to look at me, close enough that I felt his breath. He had to shift a little to look down at his hand and I felt his hair against my cheek when he did. It was a long minute before his hand let go of my cock. When it finally did, it made a kind of slow slide up my abdomen to rest on my chest and his head settled down again. I could feel that he was still awake- his head made small movements, and his hand, and his body was a little less relaxed- but he made no effort to escape the embrace. I dozed lightly for a little while until my body demanded a position change. Stephen still hadn't moved appreciably. Finally I sighed a little and turned toward him, the hand that was grabbing his ass sliding up until my arm was holding him around the shoulders, my left hand coming to rest at the top of his hip. My still semi-erect cock flopped against his erection and, much to my amusement, ended up coming to rest there, hooked over his cock. I felt him gasp as I turned, but he still didn't move. After a moment the arm that was still under my neck bent, kind of cradling my head, and the hand on my chest slid down a little, coming to rest in what I assume was a more comfortable position directly between our bodies, right over my heart. It was a very nice cuddle. All it was missing was the emotion. My head was just a little higher than his on the pillow. He was still for a moment, then I felt him gently nestle his face into the crook of my neck, kind of nuzzling me. He sighed. And that was just too much for my restraint. Moving slowly, I pulled his hips against mine and moved my hand up his body. I slid my hand into his hair right at the top of his neck, tilted his head back, and kissed him. He gave a brief "mmf" of protest, but didn't resist, and when my mouth opened so did his. I kissed him hard and at length, my tongue probing, lips always in motion, my hips moving a little against his. As seconds turned into minutes, the hand on my chest slid around to my back, pulling his body up against mine. Maybe five minutes or more passed and he was moaning quietly against my mouth by the time I broke the kiss. I was enjoying it, but the detached part of my mind was telling me there was nowhere for it to go. Had I tried to move things in a more overtly sexual direction I'd have lost the cover of being 'asleep,' and the odds of him freaking out still seemed too high. Finally my lips broke contact with his for an instant and his little moan became more audible. He immediately tensed, and I took the opportunity to 'wake up.' "Oh! Damn. Sorry, Stephen, I must have been having a really nice dream." I spoke quietly, our faces weren't two inches apart. It took him a second to speak. "Y-yeah," he stammered, "m-me too." There was a look of panic on his face. "Hey, relax. Two warm, naked bodies on a bed. We're not responsible for what our subconscious minds get up to while we sleep." I stroked the side of his head comfortingly. We were still pressed together for the full length of our bodies. "Yeah." His voice was a whisper. He nodded, looking away from my eyes. "Pretty as you are," I whispered, my lips brushing his, "you're lucky you didn't wake up getting fucked." That did it. He pushed me off and jumped up, laughing. "You're a faaag!" He did the almost-singing thing again, still laughing, and pointed at me. "You might want to wait until your hard-on goes down to start pointing that finger, Stephenie," I said with a laugh. "Shut up! Look at yours, it's fucking huge!" "Yeah, sure. I woke up kissing a pretty face." I grabbed my cock and kind of moved it around as if to look it over. "How'd you like to wake up with that rubbing your prostate?" "Shut up, fag! It'd split me in half." "That's what they all say." I leaped up suddenly, grabbed him around the waist with one arm, and tilted his head back with my left hand. "Right before they say 'Yes! Yes! Oh, god, yes!'" He shoved me away and fled to the bathroom, coming out a moment later with an armload of his nasty clothes. "Sorry I got sick last night," he said. "Be sorry that I had to clean it up. You need to leave like twenty bucks for the maid. Or forty, that was nasty." "Yeah. Thanks for cleaning me up and putting me to bed." "No worries. You can clean me up and take me to bed sometime, I'm sure to need it." "Okay." Heh. Semantic games are so petty, Ken. You're awful. I called the girls while he got in the shower. They were waiting for my call, and we quickly made plans to meet for a late breakfast or early lunch and take it from there. I laid on my bed for a second after we hung up, then grinned. "Fuck it." I got up, headed into the bathroom, and stepped into the shower with him. "Hey!" he protested, his eyes wide. "Relax. We're late for the girls, move over a little. And hand me my shampoo." I was having much more fun with this than I probably should have. Just let me know when you're ready to see who you are, little bottom. He didn't move much while I washed my hair, just stood staring. When I was ready to rinse, I took his shoulders and moved him far enough to slide up next to him by the showerhead. It put us face-to-face, so close together that his hands were against my chest and my cock bumped up against his. I clowned a bit, ducking my head so the water would spray him. He laughed and tried to push me far enough to do the same, resulting in a little contact between our wet bodies. "Alright, quit wasting time," I finally said with a grin. He rolled his eyes and laughed. I took the soap out of his hands and lathered myself up, still so close that my hand hit him as it moved. When I soaped my once-again-erect cock, I was basically rubbing it over his belly. He watched my hand as it did my chest, and when it went lower he moved one hand to my upper left arm, lightly pushing me back so he could still see my hand as it continued its task. When my cock touched him he jumped a little, but didn't even break his stare. Finally I'd soaped up everywhere I could reach. "You're not getting much washing done there, little uke. Want me to do your back?" He nodded and started to turn, but I gently pulled him up against me and reached over and around him instead. His cock was very hard against me, and he didn't move back right away when my hands stopped. Finally I started to move him back, leaving one hand on his hip. "Can- do you want me to do yours?" He didn't look at my face as he asked. One of his hands was still up between our chests, the other moved a little on my arm. "That'd be nice, thanks." I'd reached around and over to do him. He couldn't really do that, I was too much broader than him, my shoulders too much higher. He reached around my body instead, under my arms, and was basically embracing me as he lathered my back. It took him a long time to do what he could reach, his body pressed against mine. "I can't get up on your shoulders very well," he finally said. I reached around and picked him up with both hands under his ass, until his head was above mine. "There you go," I said. He laughed, arms around me, and slowly washed my shoulders and neck. When he was done and I lowered him back to his feet he was slow to move back, leaving his arms around my neck for a long few seconds. It was a very long shower by the time we got out. We went through our usual routine at the sink, me teasing him for his purple panties this time and him standing so that there was substantial body contact between us. I grinned at him as we finished our teeth. "See, how come you couldn't do that before you kissed me this morning?" I asked. "Your breath is much nicer now." "Shut up! You kissed me!" "How do you know? We were asleep." "It was you." He left the bathroom before I could argue. I was halfway around my jaw shaving before he reappeared. "I'm not gay," he said without preamble. "Neither am I," I said with a laugh. I turned to face him. "Hence the local pussy we're about to go chase, remember?" I looked at him a second. Didn't look like jokes were going to get it this time. "Look, Stephen, it's just play," I said. "Human contact is fun. Wrestling around is fun. Playing with a slick body in the shower is fun. Sleeping curled up with someone is nice, especially when the alternative is snoring at each other from eight feet away. Doesn't mean we don't like girls, it just means we're better adjusted than most guys and can enjoy each other's company. We don't have to get uptight, there's nobody here but the two of us." "But... I mean... naked. And the kiss..." "Was very nice. And didn't stop me from liking girls. Look, it's up to you, partner. I enjoy the play and the contact, it's all good. You could sleep in my bed every night and shower with me every day, it wouldn't bother me a bit. Fair to say I'd like it. I wouldn't even get uptight if somebody got kissed from time to time. Last thing you ever need to worry about is me calling you names, and you don't need to worry about anyone ever hearing what goes on between us. We are way out in the middle of nowhere and only going to get more so for a while." I shrugged. "Like I said, it's up to you," I said. "I know it doesn't gross you out, I know you enjoy it, but if you feel threatened or whatever, that's fine. Tell me to stop next time I start playing and I will, no hard feelings. Fair enough?" There was a long pause before he answered. "Yeah," he eventually said. He looked at me a second like he was trying to think of something else to say, but finally just moved off to get dressed. The day with the girls was fun. Ruth was a tall, darkly tanned redhead, Liz a bottle blond with a body built for sin, and they were more fun than a barrel of monkeys. They took us on a short hike to a small lake and we spent the afternoon looking at nature, skinny-dipping, flirting, and eventually making out. They were fairly good-time oriented, so much so that they didn't even object when I switched make-out partners after one of our breaks to splash around in the lake. They both just laughed and went with it. Their indulgence got them both orgasms, too. Minor ones, to be sure, but still fun. I played with Ruth's clit in the water until she came, laughing in my arms, and I had to carry her back to our blankets. Liz I was able to get more alone while Stephen and Ruth went for a stroll, and I licked her nice little pussy by the side of the lake. So, yeah. A nice day. And no real surprise that they came back to the hotel with us after dinner. It was pretty erotic fooling around on adjacent beds, Liz and I stealing looks at them in the throes of our passion and seeing their eyes equally fixed on us. Stephen came pretty quickly, too quickly for his partner, which presented me a problem. I'd intended to hammer the hell out of Liz, I had a lot of pent-up sexual energy to release, but I didn't want to give Stephen a complex by bashing the girl for half an hour after he was done. Ruth groaned as he rolled off her and he started to apologize. "That's okay, buddy," I said. "Happens to all of us. This is a pretty hot scene, I can see how you'd be amped up a bit. Just eat her pussy 'til you reload. She'll love you for it. Right, Ruth?" It was quickly apparent that Stephen didn't know what the hell he was doing with his tongue. Mouthy bastard, small dick, no staying power, can't eat pussy. No wonder his girl was visiting her mom. "Boy doesn't know what he's doing," I whispered to Liz as I slowly fucked her, letting her recover from an orgasm. "I'm glad you do," she murmured back with a laugh. "Me, too." I grinned at her. "Listen- it's gonna mess up our fun if they're over there fumbling around and we've gotta listen to it. Think we can coach him through learning to lick it like he loves it?" "Okay." "C'mon." Amidst much laughter, we moved over to the bed they were on, the girls laying side-by-side. I did a do-as-I-do demonstration for Stephen. It was fun, everybody laughing and giggling and eventually Liz coming again, hard, from the combination of G-spot and clitoral stimulation I was giving her. Ruth was feeling good, but still hadn't turned the corner. Finally I winked at Liz and slid over to Stephen and Ruth. Stephen was lying half on his left side so he could use his right hand on her, and I slid right up to him, my semi-erect cock against his ass. "Okay, here." I reached around him to touch her pussy. "Is this okay, Ruth?" "Why not?" she said with a laugh. I grinned at her. "Okay, I'm gonna slide a finger into her. Put one of yours right on mine, feel what I'm doing." I coached him for maybe fifteen minutes, each of us licking her in turn, until she started to build toward orgasm. This time he got her there, she had a leg-trembling and very wet orgasm, his hand coming out of her pussy just drenched. "Nice job, Stephen," I said, still laying right up against him, my arm now around his chest. "I'll say," Ruth said with kind of a breathless laugh. "Now you just need to practice so you can learn to read what they like, know when to play and when to focus." He nodded and turned far enough to look at me, smiling broadly, not noticing or not caring about my cock dragging across his skin. He looked up at Ruth, who laughed. "Give me a minute," she said. "I could go again," Liz said with a laugh. "I mean, if we're changing partners." Stephen looked at me and I nodded at her with a grin. "Start slowly, like she hasn't had any foreplay, and let her body tell you when she's really excited. And her voice, she'll tell you harder and softer and faster and I'm gonna cum and all that." I looked at Liz, who winked her understanding. I slid up next to Ruth, who turned on her side so we could watch them, me laying behind her. Pretty soon I was reaching to the night stand for a condom and we were doing it in the spoon position, being watched by Liz as we watched her. "This is fucking wild," Ruth whispered to me after a few minutes. I nodded and kept kissing her ear. "It was hot seeing you lay on him like that. I could see that big cock on his ass." I don't know why she was whispering, she was loud enough for everyone to hear. "You liked that? Liked seeing two boys touch?" I said. She nodded quickly, her excitement mounting. "Can you do the same for me?" I whispered, my eyes on Liz. Her eyes widened and I saw nothing discouraging there. Ruth turned her head toward me. "Can you kiss Liz? Help her get off?" It didn't take much coaxing. Ruth leaned over and kissed her friend gently, then with increasing passion as the tempo and force of our fucking picked up. Pretty soon they were moaning and crying out, and occasionally laughing as they looked into each others eyes. The two of them came with their arms around each other and their mouths welded together. It was hot as hell, the kind of sight you remember for years. And it broke any remaining inhibition they may have had. The rest of the night was awesome. One of the things about sex with multiple participants is that someone's energy is always high, so things don't just trail off meekly into sleep after an orgasm or two. We changed partners repeatedly, got the girls to dance for us, and indulged our standard male fetish by putting them face-to-face while we fucked them in the spoon position, letting us watch them make out for a solid twenty minutes and orgasm repeatedly in each other's arms. Finally there came a moment when we were all collapsed together in a heap, Ruth and I still breathing hard and the other two laughing at us while Liz kissed her friend tenderly. "See?" I laughed. "Now you two don't even need the local boys to pull their heads out. You've got each other." Everybody laughed. The girls had been complaining that few of the local 'necks could even get them off even once, much less have this much fun. And they'd done some looking around. "Before I pass out for a week," I said to more laughter, "is there anything anyone's dying to try? This is the night for it, and nights like these are rare." "I'm done," laughed Ruth. "Stick a fork in me. I'm already half asleep." "Actually," Liz said, "um..." She leaned over Ruth to whisper in my ear. Again, I'm not sure why, there weren't three feet between all of our heads. "My fiancee likes to do it in my..." Her voice trailed off. At my grin, she continued. "Yeah, you get it. Sometimes it feels good, especially if I use my toy while he does it, but he always finishes before I can see where it's going." "So you want me to..." I said. "Um... both of you." She was almost shy, which was funny considering all we'd gotten up to. I grinned at her and then at Stephen. Stephen Ch. 01 "Hear that, Stephen?" "Yeah," he said, looking shocked. "Okay, Liz, you're on," I said and kissed her. "But I think you're going to have to help us rally the troops." She went down on both of us for a while, laughing lustily and commenting on how much fun it was to have two to play with. When we were both ready to go, I reached into the night stand for a bottle of lube. "It's okay, I don't need that," she said. "He's about Stephen's size and he does it without that stuff. And there's no way I'm taking that thing between your legs up there." "Just trust me. It'll feel better with this no matter who's doing it." She loved it. I played with her a little to relax her and get her ready, then we got in the classic porn double-penetration pose, me on my back, her astride, Stephen over and behind her. It only took a couple minutes for everyone to get the hang of it and find a rhythm. She had multiple orgasms; in fact it was hard to tell when one stopped and the next started. When Stephen came and rolled off her we slowed down for a minute. Her eyes were somewhere far away, her body resting on her elbows, propped on my shoulders. Slowly she came back to focus. "Damn," she said. "That was incredible." Her breathing was still ragged, her hips still moving on me. "But you're not done yet. And neither am I," I said. She looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. I slid her off me and got behind her in the spoon position again. "Just relax," I said. "If it's too big, I'll stop." "Okay," she said. She was mellow enough after all the sex that she didn't tense up, and I was soon inside her. It wasn't too big. She loved it. We picked up steam, Liz fucking back at me as much as I was fucking her, and by the end we were just pounding into each other, her legs spasmodic and her body seemingly trying to move in twelve directions at once. Stephen leaned in at one point to muffle her screams with a kiss, and she grabbed his hair and mashed his face into hers like she was trying to suck his tongue out of his mouth. It took me a while to cum. There'd been a lot of sex that night. When I finally finished she was on another planet, still kissing and holding onto Stephen. "Don't let go of her," I whispered. "She needs to be held after a ride like that." Eventually we all moved over to my bed, which wasn't as messed up as his by half. We fell asleep in a heap and stayed there until late in the morning, everyone too wiped out for the tangle of bodies to become awkward. My last conscious awareness was of Stephen lifting his head to smile contentedly at me, his eyes half closed. I grinned and tousled his hair, and we were both smiling broadly as he put his head back down and we drifted off. Stephen Ch. 02 Finally I pulled back a little. "That's my boy," I whispered. I smiled at him, and this time he returned it, maybe a little shy. "You're a hell of a good kisser, uke. I could do this all day." "But we've gotta work, right?" His return whisper was a little wry, like he was anticipating what I'd have said next. "Yeah." I grinned at him. "So I guess we'll have to wait and do it all night." He laughed, and the inevitable "shut up" was a little suspect since his arms were still around my neck. "You need a shave," he said as we finally let go and returned our attention to cleaning up. "I'll do it when we clean up for the drive-in. Don't want to be all rough-faced for that, I might sand your face off." Another laugh, and the "shut up" was perfunctory at best. There was a little smile on his face as we rolled to the site. "What'cha grinnin' about, there, uke?" I asked with a smile of my own. He shook his head and didn't answer for a second, then turned to look at me. "You're a pretty good kisser, too," he said, and immediately blushed scarlet from his neck to his forehead. I smiled at him. To say he was nervous after work is a radical understatement. He looked at me apprehensively as we passed the drive-in on our way to the hotel and watched wide-eyed as I got cleaned up and shaved. "You getting a shower, sweet cheeks?" I asked as I splashed on aftershave. "We got sweaty at work today, don't you want to be fresh for our date?" "Shut up, it's not a date." But he got in the shower, shaved his light beard and, much to my private amusement, blow-dried his hair. I hadn't seen him do that since we'd gone out with the girls. We had time before the show, so we had a nice, dare I say romantic dinner. We flirted outrageously with the waitress, which seemed to relax him tremendously. He carried on about it all the way to the drive-in and was still grinning when he went to get drinks and popcorn. I tuned the radio and crawled into the backseat. He hesitated when he got back, standing in the open door and looking at me for a long moment. "C'mon, uke. Crawl on back here and give me some popcorn. And some sugar." "Fuck you," he said, but he laughed. "Later. All you're getting now is some making out, I'm not slutty enough to give it up in the backseat on the first date." He laughed and crawled in by me. I expected him to sit as far from me as he could and was going to move over by him, but he surprised me by sitting right next to me, close enough for me to put my arm around him. Nor did he protest the arm. I held the popcorn with my free hand and he alternated feeding us from the bag and holding up a cup of soda for us to sip. We weren't even through the previews when he dropped some popcorn on my chest and laughed. "Uh-oh," he said. He held up the coke he had in one hand and the popcorn he had in the other. "I can't get it, my hands are full." "Well, I can't get it either. I'm busy trying to poke my cock through the bottom of the popcorn." "I've seen that movie," he laughed. "I'm not giving you a handjob just 'cause I find your cock in the popcorn." "I was thinking more along the lines of you licking all the butter off it." He laughed. "Yeah, I bet you were. Here, this is as close as you're going to get." He leaned over and picked the spilled popcorn up with his mouth. "There, happy?" he said, still very close to me. I grinned and kissed him, following him when he started to lean back. It only took a moment for him to start kissing back, and the heat rose for maybe ten minutes before he finally pulled back. "Wait, I..." he started, his breath deep and fast. I smiled and peppered his face and mouth with little kisses. After a moment he grinned. "Would you stop?" he said. Somewhere along the line he'd let go of the popcorn in his hand, now he brought the hand up to touch my head and neck. "Do you really want me to, pretty uke?" Stephen laughed a little and rolled his eyes, but after a second he shook his head. The movie was quickly forgotten. I'd predicted we wouldn't see five minutes of it. That turned out to be optimistic. We didn't see one minute of it. We barely managed to put the drinks and popcorn on the floor before they got dumped all over the truck. I'm not sure how long we kissed before I let my hands start wandering... fifteen minutes? Half an hour? I started caressing, then at his lack of protest unbuttoned his shirt and explored his body with my hand. He sighed against my mouth and his kisses gained intensity as I touched him, his mouth hot and his tongue seeking. A little gasping laugh escaped his mouth when I pinched one of his nipples. He gasped again when I opened his pants and raised his hips to meet my hand when I gently grabbed him. For a second I thought he was going to cum, he humped at my hand and groaned mightily, but I released my grip a little and smiled. "You're close," I whispered. He sighed and didn't answer, but after a moment returned the smile. "Why did you stop?" His voice was a whisper, too. "Because I'm mean like that." I sat up a little so I could reach down and pull his shoes off, then his pants. He looked nervous for just a second, but laughed and put his arms around my neck when I moved back in to kiss him. I kept petting him, stroking his cock for a moment then letting my hands roam from his thighs to his belly to his chest. His hips bucked in the air each time I let go of him, searching for the friction he needed to cum. "Take mine out," I whispered. The nervous look came back. "I promise, I'm not going to fuck you. Not here in the truck." I let my hand slide back to his cock. I'm not sure whether it was the reassurance or the stimulation, but he grinned and rolled his eyes again, then fumbled for my fly. He gasped again when he pulled it out and looked down between us for a long time. "You okay?" I finally whispered, smiling at him. "Yeah... I just..." His voice trailed off. I grinned and kissed him again, and he seemed to relax after a moment. He stroked me kind of awkwardly while I kept feeling him up. After a few minutes I coaxed his legs apart and wet a finger in my mouth. His eyes widened when I started softly fingering his rim. "Shh... it's just a finger." I grinned. "We can find out if you like it as much as Liz without splitting you in half. Okay?" He laughed, and after a moment nodded kind of shyly. I took it slow, working from the gentle rimming to penetration to finger-fucking him, giving him his first taste of prostate stimulation. If a man is relaxed and in a receptive mood, there are really only two responses to sex involving the prostate: liking it and loving it. For Stephen it was the latter. It wasn't long before his hips were moving in response to my finger and the hand on my cock was matching my rhythm with a clumsy kind of jerking. I kept having to shift my hips lest he hurt me; it was like he was trying to pull it off. He started to moan against my mouth and kept it up as I kissed his neck and collar, tasting his sweat. We played that way for a long time, until finally he grabbed me tight around the neck and let go of my cock. "Ohh... what... am I coming?" His voice was high and surprised. He wasn't really asking me, it was like he was thinking out loud, but it still made me grin. I looked down to see thick white ejaculate flowing from his cock. I could feel the spasms inside him. The hand that had been on my cock grabbed his and pumped it a few times and he just exploded. Streams of ejaculate flew up to hit both of our chests and my face as I looked down, and they went on for quite a while. It was a lot of cum. I grinned when his hips and hand slowed down and kissed him tenderly. He was too languid to freak out, he just kissed me back and after a moment smiled. "Holy fuck," he said, his voice a whisper. "Told you it was good." I grinned again. "Damn, that's a lot of cum." Stephen laughed and looked down at us. "I didn't think I was ever going to stop," he said. "I think I dehydrated myself, I'm thirsty as hell." "Here, just a sec." I cleaned us up with some tissues- quite a few tissues- and handed him one of our now flat cokes. While he drank I reached over the back seat for one of the citrus wipes I keep in the truck for cleaning up at the job site. No need to confront a virgin with all the realities of anal sex right away, I cleaned my finger as discreetly as possible. "I think the movie's over," he said. I looked out and saw lights coming on all around us and cars starting to move. "Yeah, I guess so." I grinned at him. "Put your pants on, boy, can't be drivin' around town half nekkid!" He was still laughing and trying to turn his pants right-side out as I started the truck and headed for the hotel. The nerves were back by the time we got there. I closed the door and moved to take him in my arms and he stiffened. Didn't pull away, but he was scared. "You scared again, uke?" I asked. He nodded. "I'm afraid you want to..." "I do," I said with a laugh. "Don't you? I'd have thought you'd be eager." He actually trembled a little in my arms. "I'm not gay," he whispered. "Neither am I, Stephen. If I need a label, I'm bisexual. I prefer to think of myself as just sexual, beyond labels, but bi works. I think you're the same. It doesn't matter, though, maybe you're just a straight guy having a once-in-a-lifetime experience. What matters right now is that I dig you and you dig me and we make each other feel good. Right?" "Yeah," he said, his voice a whisper. He'd started to relax in my arms a little. "Baby, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. Now or ever. We can just play around with our hands and our mouths if you want." He nodded and our mouths met again. After a few minutes of kissing I undressed him without resistance, tossing him on the bed to pull off shoes and pants and getting a delighted laugh. When he was naked I drew him back to his feet. "Your turn. Undress me." His hands shook as he unbuttoned my shirt and pushed it off my shoulders. He started to reach for my pants, but I stopped him with a touch. "Go slow, baby," I said. "Like I did. Touch me." Again he nodded without speaking. His hands explored my torso for a minute, still trembling a little, then he stepped up to kiss me. He grinned a little when he pulled back. "Fuck, I'm nervous," he said. "Relax. I don't bite." "Yes you do," he laughed. "Okay, fair enough. But you love it. I thought you were going to pull my cock off when I bit your neck." He grinned and reached for my pants again. I was fully erect he actually had to pull my boxers out a little so they'd drop over my cock. As soon as it was free he tentatively took it in his hand and immediately sighed. His cock stirred instantly, starting to swell and rise. I sat on the edge of the bed. "Finish getting my clothes off," I said. "Then you can play with it." When he'd stripped me I let him stroke it and look at it for a few minutes, close enough for me to feel his breath. "Kiss it for me, pretty uke," I said. He looked up at me, maybe a little scared. "Come on. It's just you and me, here. You know you want to. Take it in your mouth." There were maybe three seconds of nerves when his lips touched it, then it was like he melted. He didn't just suck it, he made love to it. Lips and tongue and gentle hands, hot moans and gasping sighs like he'd forgotten to breathe. I'm not sure how long it went on. A long time, certainly. He wasn't trying to bring me off, he'd suck it for a few minutes, then bathe the length of it with his tongue and lips, then suck on my balls, then kiss his way back up to suck it some more. Finally I put a gentle hand on the back of his head while he was sucking and started guiding him, keeping him there. He didn't seem to mind, when I started groaning a few minutes later his moans increased in intensity and shortened to match the pace of his sucking. "Oh, baby," I sighed after another few minutes. "That's so good... I'm gonna cum now... here it comes, pretty one." He tried to pull back for a second but ultimately let my hand keep him there. I filled his mouth and held him in place until I was sure he'd swallowed it. When I let go he didn't immediately let go of my cock, sucking it gently and rubbing it across his lips. Finally he looked up at me, then stood. His cock was very hard, it twitched as I looked at it. "Somehow I think that's not the last time you're going to do that," I said with a smile, touching his cock. He laughed. "No, I guess not." Somewhat to my surprise, he crawled on top of me, pushing me onto my back on the bed, and kissed me hard and at some length. His hips moved against me. "Is it my turn now?" he said after a while. I reached down and pulled my still half-erect cock out from between us and laid it along his ass. "I think I need another minute," I said. This time his laugh ended with another kiss. "I mean some head, you one-way bastard." "Sure," I said with a laugh. "Let's get all the way on the bed. We can do each other. And grab my bottle of lube, I'll finger you some more while we do it." He looked at me sort of sideways, like he knew what I had in mind, but he handed me the lube with a laugh. We got into a sixty-nine position and played with each other for a while. I'm afraid I wasn't giving him the best head I could, my attention was on his tight little ass, but frankly his enjoyment seemed to have more to do with my cock and the fingers I was working into him than my mouth. When he was thoroughly relaxed and very well-lubricated and I was completely hard again I pulled my head back far enough to look at him. It took him a couple minutes to notice. He finally looked at me and his expression went from curious to nervous in two seconds flat. I laughed softly and stroked his chest. "It's up to you, uke. I can tell you like this stimulation," I moved my fingers a little, "so I thought I'd check. But we don't have to, this is fun, too." He looked at me a second, then laughed and pushed my head back between his legs. I acquiesced, laughing in turn, but we'd only been back at it for a couple minutes when he reached down and pulled my head back far enough to look at him again. "You really mean only if I want to? You're happy just doing this?" "Sure. I'm proud of you for being as ready to try new stuff as you've been tonight, I'm not going to press." And not just because I'm 100% sure we'll get there soon enough. There was a pause. "That's just like you," he said with a grin. "When I'm scared shitless and wish you'd back off you attack me in the shower, but when I wish you'd do something you're all Mister Nice Guy." I laughed, sat up, and pulled him up facing me. We kissed for a long few minutes, close together, his hand in my lap holding my cock. "Grab a condom out of the drawer, missy. You asked for it, you got it." He laughed and kissed me again. The smile he gave me was almost shy. "You don't need a condom, seme." "Trust me," I said quietly. "It makes things easier. Latex has benefits other than disease prevention. For now we'll use one, we can talk about it later." "Okay." He got one out and rolled it onto me. There was already a tenderness to the way he touched my cock. When I was ready I laid him down on his back and pressed my fingers back inside him. He was relaxed enough for three to go in easily and excited enough to moan when they fucked him a little, so without further ado I picked his legs up on my shoulders and gently pressed inside. He accepted me willingly. His cock stayed hard, which isn't always the case even with guys who like the receiving end. Big turn-on for me when it does, though, like a handy visual indicator of how much he's liking it. It only took a few minutes for us to be fucking in earnest. Slowly and gently, to be sure, but there was no tension and, I thought, no pain. Well, at first I thought no pain. He stiffened a little at one point and I slowed down. "Does it hurt?" I said. "Do you want me to stop for while?" I'd let his legs down off my shoulders once I was in and was holding them up with my hands behind his knees, now he quickly put his heels behind my thighs. "No, don't stop!" He grinned shyly at my gentle laugh. "It hurts a little, but it feels incredible. Keep going." His body's response was intense, but it was his mental adjustment and emotional response that made the evening for me. There was a little nervousness in the beginning, but slowly he relaxed and let the sensations take him. His cries basically narrated his submission to the moment. At first they were just little moans. After a few minutes a louder, higher-pitched cry escaped, and he immediately looked at me in embarrassment. I leaned down to kiss him at some length, still moving my cock in him. "It's okay, uke," I said. "It's supposed to feel good. It turns me on to hear it. Let yourself go, baby. Just go with the feeling." I stayed like that, my body on his, fucking him with short strokes and lots of hip-rolling up against him, until his cries escalated and his hips started moving to meet mine. When I lifted back up on my arms and started fucking him harder he really lost control, first just crying out, then begging for more. He was inarticulate by the time he came, crying out my name and the word please over and over and pulling me down to find my mouth with his, and all he had to say when the orgasm had passed was "Oh, my god!" We fucked for a long time. I won't say all night, we did finally fall asleep, but most of it. The first time he came was like in the truck, his cock started leaking and his hand dropped to it, spraying his cum all over us. He didn't make me stop, just slow down a bit, and the second time he came I did it for him. We were in spoons, and when I realized he was close I reached with my lubricated fingers and just sort of petted his cock slowly. His orgasm was long and fierce, and this time I came shortly after him. We showered together and I was expecting that to be the end, but he fell to his knees in the shower and patiently sucked me back to life, then tried to climb up and mount me right there. Laughing, I picked him up and carried him back to bed. This time he was on top. I sat against the headboard and he sat facing me, riding me slowly at first, then with more vigor. By the time he finished he was really going to town, his very hard cock bouncing against my body and his cries loud enough to make me wish we had some neighbors in the hotel to hear what a stud I was. He came without ever touching his cock, the only stimulation it got was from slapping against my body. And despite this being his fourth orgasm of the evening, he came hard, seeming not to breathe as his stomach sucked in and he let out choked little cries. I grabbed his hips to keep him going when he started to slow down and finished not far behind him. We were both worn out enough that all I did was flip the condom toward the trash and out we went, kissing and snuggling as we fell asleep. He was nervous again in the morning, but it didn't last. We spent the entire weekend fucking and sucking, with me doing all of the former and him doing the vast majority of the latter. The more he relaxed the more he loved it; he spent at least half an hour Sunday morning telling me all about my cock while I read the paper and we watched a ballgame. If I'd ever been curious about whether you could feel my pulse in a particular vein or about what angles made the head swell or how my balls moved when you let them out of your mouth, well, now I knew. Stephen Ch. 02 He also spent time Sunday learning to take it into his throat. It started with his comment that he couldn't understand how the girls in porn did that, and when I explained it he almost immediately started practicing. I didn't press, it was fun to watch him do it himself, and he got the hang of it relatively quickly. There was hardly a moment when we were more than four feet from each other. He slept snuggled against my chest, joined me in the shower, sat on my lap to shave me carefully, kissed me constantly, and touched me as much as possible. He even held my hand when we walked to get dinner Sunday, which took some guts given that we were in redneck-ville. The next couple weeks followed the pattern. We quite literally fucked morning, noon, and night. Lunchtime trysts became such a routine part of our day that the timing of the break came to be determined by when he was horny as opposed to when I was hungry. I fucked him bent over the tailgate of my truck, he crawled on top of me in the passenger seat while I tried to eat, and the backseat got worked out hard and often. There seemed to be no limit to how much he wanted me in his mouth, either, especially after a hard fucking. He'd suck me for half an hour at a time some nights, and he always got hot doing it. A lot of our work involved me sitting at a table working on the more delicate stuff; in the past while I did it he'd pretty up the rest of the job, clean out our stuff and load the truck, and hang out listening to music and chatting while I finished. Now he did the cleanup in record time and immediately crawled under the table to play with my cock while he masturbated, sometimes sucking me off and sometimes just fondling, kissing, and sucking it for what seemed like half the afternoon. Where his priorities were, sexually, was made clear one evening while we fooled around. I'm not a one-way bastard, even with an obvious bottom like him, and I was giving him head on the bed when he grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. "Hey, seme, don't take this the wrong way, you give the best head I've ever gotten, but I'm bored. Turn around and let me do you, too, or stick your finger in my ass or something." "You're bored?" I laughed. "That's the first time I've ever heard that." "I think I've got blowjob ADD or something," he said with a grin. "C'mon, let me get you hard. I need to get fucked." "Yeah, it's been what, six or seven hours since I fucked that pretty little ass? You must be in withdrawal!" "You say that like you're kidding." After that, contact between me and his cock was foreplay or just a part of the main event, never the deed itself. Not that there wasn't a lot of it, but I always made sure I wasn't just entertaining myself. His preferred way to cum was without directly stimulating his cock very much. Sometimes he'd grab it when he reached the point and sometimes he liked me to, but often enough he'd stop my hand when I tried. He just wanted one of our hands resting on him or softly petting him. I always enjoy learning a new lover, and Stephen was a lot of fun. A week later we laid in bed on Saturday morning, resting between rounds of energetic loving. "Hey, Ken?" he said. "Yeah?" "Do you... with a guy..." He lifted himself up a little, propping himself on an elbow on my chest to look down at me. "How many guys have you been with?" he finally asked. "Oh, hell," I said with a grin. "Not this conversation." "No," he laughed. "I don't mean that. I mean... I'm not even sure what I want to ask. I guess... does it feel different with someone who's stronger than you?" "Don't really know, I was eighteen the last time I experienced it. I'm attracted to twinks and smaller guys. In the last fifteen years I've only been with one guy as strong as me, at least to go all the way with. And he was like you in bed, he liked to be done. I rarely felt his strength in any meaningful way." "Like me... is it, like, unmanly for me to like you inside me so much?" "I hope not, since I like having someone inside me, too." I smiled. "Seriously, no, at least not to me. You've gotta get over this arbitrary role bullshit. Male, female, manly, unmanly, top, bottom, who cares? Find what makes you happy and go with it, 'cause life's too fucking short. I can introduce you to some pretty big, rough guys who like to be on the receiving end." "It's not just the actual fucking, though. It's like..." He paused a long moment. "I like you on top of me. I like your arms around me. I like how strong they are. I like being curled up on your shoulder or against your chest. I love it when you hold me and kiss me, and when you just kind of move me around where you want me. You almost toss me sometimes." "I do toss you sometimes." I thought a second. "I don't know, honey. I know that you have, or had, a lot of insecurity, which means a lot of nerves and even fear. And feeling secure is an incredible thing when you haven't. Generally that has to do with a lot of complex emotional stuff like trust and love of self and lots of other things, but there's also a physical component. I can't help with the stuff you have to work through, but I imagine feeling my affection and acceptance and knowing you're emotionally safe with me, that I'll never try to hurt you, is causing some good dynamics in you. And my arms and embrace put a physical manifestation to that." I touched his face and smiled again. "Feeling safe and warm feels good to everybody," I went on. "And feeling lusted after feels good to everybody. And being taken feels good to everybody, it's intense and very emotional, and I suspect I'm the first to do it to you, male or female." "For sure." "I had a period of my life, pretty boy, where I figured out who I was. Part of that was dealing with my sexuality, and I'd have had a hard time coming to grips with it if I didn't just relax and see where it took me. Or if I didn't have a partner in my exploration who loved me and was on her own journey. This is your chance. If you're looking for my advice, just go with it. Do what feels good, emotionally and physically, and keep what feels good after, what makes you feel good looking back on it, I mean. Do you have any regrets?" "No. Hell no." "Nor about liking being a bottom, for lack of a term without connotations you know I don't mean?" "No," he said after a long pause. "I like it. I love it. I love your arms around me, I love your cock in me, I love having you on top of me." "Good." I smiled. "I like this new Stephen. Much more of a human being than the old one. It takes strength to deal with the fact that you like all that stuff, I'm proud of you. Gives me a warm fuzzy. And it turns me on no end, of course." He climbed up on top of me with a grin. "Of course. You like it when I say what I like?" He leaned down to kiss me with each thing he named. "I love your kiss. Even your lips are strong. I love putting my arms around your neck. I love touching your shoulders." The list went on for a minute, body part by body part, until I interrupted with a smile and a groan. "You're driving me crazy, pretty boy," I said. His eyes widened for an instant and he smiled, just a cute little grin. "And you love it when I say you're pretty," I said with a grin of my own. He laughed and blushed. "Come on, say it. Tell me you like it when I say you're pretty." "I love it when you say I'm pretty," he said with what was nearly a giggle. I kissed him, smiling. "Say it," I said again. "I love it when you say I'm pretty," he laughed, blushing and kissing me. I made him say it maybe half a dozen more times as we fucked, the entire encounter defined by laughter and play. "Yeah, I definitely prefer this Stephen," I said quietly in the afterglow. "This pretty Stephen, I mean." "Yeah," he said with a laugh, followed by a contented sigh. "Me too, actually."