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Looking Back—Gay Sex Driven, Part 05

by Dead serious


After we’d managed to contain our laughter (we didn’t manage to contain the mess) we rolled on our sides facing each other. Blake ran his hands up and down me from my thighs to my neck, spreading even more of the mess around. It felt like some sort of therapeutic massage I guess (I guess because at that point, I’d never had a massage). Not willing to be out done, I reciprocated.

We were still actively sweating, so not much of the stuff was actually rubbed in, but rather the consistency just became more fluid, and the smells intensified. Weird, it didn’t smell sweet, didn’t smell sour, and didn’t even smell good…just smelled of sex!

We lay there and started talking a bit more. We really didn’t know that much about each other yet, but yet strangely we felt comfortable—like we’d always known each other. Maybe it was his down-home Okie way mixing with my corn-fed Upper Midwestern mentality. Either way, it was special…strangely unique. I’ve had long term relationships (this one—if you might wish to call it that—was just a few weeks), but this one ranks near the top for closeness.

Blake was indeed from Oklahoma—born and bred—his words. (I can only imagine the breeding process.) He’d attended grade school, middle school and high school all within 5 miles of home. Prior to coming north, he’d only been to northern Texas on a couple of cattle buying trips with his dad. We compared our families and a good deal of our experiences (gay and otherwise). We found we were much alike in many ways. When it came to his past sexual experiences (I was interested in learning more about his anal expertise—oh that appetite!) I was purposely vague…so I was pretty much left to my imagination—not that when I look back on it—was all that bad. Still wonder to this day.

Back to the juicy part… We kind of tired of talking and settled in to watching the TV, catching the tale end of the nightly news. Then we sort of dozed off a bit, then waking shortly after 11 PM. I debated on packing it in and heading home…after all it was a Thursday night, but then again I was still enamored if not mesmerized by this guy—the whole package—and still worried about his “package” and my immediate future. But then again, I had nothing on for Friday, and could manufacture a reason for staying out. I came up with something, what it escapes me now, but I was certainly glad I stayed.

Blake reached around and discovered I was “ready to roll” as he put it. I didn’t have to reach—that damn THANG had been poking my stomach for a good half hour without going down, making it hard to concentrate on the small talk and life history exchanges. Damn, what the hell kind of diet was this guy on? Blake reversed positions and headed for my shaft. I held him back suggesting that maybe we should shower first (you’ll recall that at the time I had an aversion to “stinky dick”.)

“Nope, not necessary for me…I like to smell like I’ve been fuckin’ and just sort of wallow in it…ya know. (I was beginning to wonder—the farm—“wallow”—maybe this guy was more of a sex pig than I thought!) With that explanation, I figured if he wanted to suck my dirty dick, so be it; but I didn’t necessarily have to reciprocate—his loss. Well nothing could slow him down; he clamped his hands around my butt cheeks and swallow my whole shaft—effortlessly. He went to town on it like it was some type of corn-dog shaped “Slo-Poke” sucker. “You ain’t gettin’ any ‘man-carmel’ or anything that resembles such outta this thing for some time.” Yes, I was hard—almost rock hard—but still sort of spent from our first go ‘round.

Well, surprise…surprise… Hoover applies to both ends on this dude! Within probably about 10 minutes, he really had me going. He had stopped a couple of times, long enough to force-kiss me. The first time I had moved away, but he insisted and I relented. Actually, I discovered the idea wasn’t all that bad…and to my surprise I was more excited when he returned his attention to my dick. The second time, I was ready for him. After a good 30 seconds of tongue lashing, when he turned around, I turned to his throbbing member and gave it a go.

He was seriously leaking pre-cum—almost a constant flow. After I’d gotten used to the taste and was figuring out how to best attack its sheer size, I began to look at the fresh drippings as a reward…fresh new taste…almost sweet. I tried to see just how much of his THANG I could take down my throat…I probably got a good 3-4 inches, but because of its girth, that was all she wrote. Blake seemed to know, ‘cause he told me I was doing about as good as anybody.

Blake stopped sucking, and so did I. I assumed he was getting tired, and I was actually getting pretty close. Also my mouth was tired of being stretched beyond its normal size. I’d look real funny coming home with a dislocated jaw or something. Blake set about giving me a general going over—“a good tongue lickin’” as he called it. I was slow to reciprocate, but got into it before long. Jesus, our faces were a mess. Then he moved past my balls and began rimming my ass. I was sort of embarrassed as I knew even though I’d showered before leaving home, I’d gotten sweaty and probably was a bit “ripe” back there. But that didn’t stop Blake for a minute…in fact he picked up his pace.

I drew my line in the sand at that point. There was just no stinkin’ way—and I do mean stikin’! That I was going to chow down on that Crisco coated, cum filled ass I’d fucked earlier—not if I wanted to keep dinner where it belonged.

“Okay, now seein’ as I gotcha all primed…what say we give it a go?” Blake announced. Oh shit…the moment of truth. I was not a virgin, nor was I a consummate whore either. I’d never laid eyes on anything that bid and wasn’t sure how this was going to play out. Yet, I figured fair is fair and at least I’d give it my best shot. I didn’t say anything, just reached for the Crisco—it would be a mandatory necessity!

Blake gingerly applied liberal amounts to my quivering ass…not that it was anxious—rather it was trembling! Then he stroked his one-eye Louisville slugger with a handful and positioned his battering ram at my back door. I gritted my teeth and took a deep breath. Blake was very patient and slowly stretched my hole. After a good couple minutes he got the mushroom head past my door—and I saw stars! I arched my back and gasped. “You want me out?” he asked. I told him not to FUCKING MOVE! I adjusted myself to the shear width of this perverse invasion, and then gave him the high sign. He moved in slowly. Strangely the stinging and burning sensations subsided and all I felt was a strange fullness. It was a good thing I didn’t have to take a shit anytime soon, or he’d been back packing it. Finally he was all the way in; I could tell because I felt his crotch hairs tickle the insides of my butt cheeks.

Very slowly he started pistoning me—slow easy thrusts…then gradually increasing the frequency. Again, my ass gave in, I relaxed (no clue how or why) and he picked up speed. He sent my head spinning when he pulled all the way out and rammed it all the way home. My head hit the headboard too. We moved down the bed and resumed. For the first 5-6 minutes although my dick was good and hard, I guess I was too concerned and concentrating on my ass fucking. Soon after my own passion took over and before I could announce my eminent release—I blasted away. I’d never been able to hit myself in the face—maybe it was the curled position—but I did so—twice!

My ass immediately became sensitive, and I clenched down on Blake and this sent him over the edge. My experience so far was sort of 50/50. Sometimes I could feel the cum welling up inside, other times only the sudden increased slickness of the final thrusts. Well—THIS time I felt both…and quantity definitely WON out. It felt more like I was getting a damn enema (mind you I’d only had one at an early age—and one was enough!) But this felt warm and unique. I took pleasure in watching Blake’s eyes roll back and the look of pure ecstasy spread across his sweat covered face.

When he suddenly pulled the damn THANG out, it felt like the lower part of my intestine was coming with him. I knew I was not able to contain all he had spewed inside me—I could feel it running out…and I hoped it was just cum and Crisco. Suddenly, Blake did something I was totally unprepared for... He spread my legs and dove headfirst into my stretched and leaking ass. I felt is tongue, and at one point his nose go past my sphincter—or what was left of it. He snorted and I felt a blast of air…I remember it tickled.

He ate my ass out for several moments…until I shoved him away. I was concerned that that sick-sized suppository might have its medically desired effect. He apparently understood my urgency and pulled away…but then he just pulled himself up and came at me. He made one licking swoop up my chest and neck. We were now face-to-face. I wasn’t sure I wanted this…but he made the choice fore me. He looked like a cream coated horror movie character. I could smell the fresh cum before he parted my clenched lips with his tongue. I nervously tasted my own cum and traces of his cum mixed with Crisco from my ass. It wasn’t as bad as I thought. Soon we were freely swapping tongues, spit, and cum remnants. I actually liked it.

Blake picked up on this too. He leaned back, and suddenly entered my ass again with his still stiff prick. I felt the fluids being pushed in again, the tickling as the mixture gurgled inside me. It sent shivers through me. He gave me a few thrusts, then pulled out, positioned himself at chest level, and thrust his dripping cock past my lips. This time I was not so shocked as I was surprised. I took him, got a good taste, and set about cleaning it off, but not swallowing much. I sat up, he understood, we shared.

Once our emotions and drives subsided, we held each other without saying anything. I watched his eyes close…I don’t recall when I drifted off. We were a mess…a wonderful piggy mess…but wallowing in the amazing satisfaction of sharing everything we possessed. The last thing I thought about was the poor maid…

Continued, Part 6


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