Ryan & Mike & the Guys Ch. 10

It was a dark and stormy night.

Okay, the sun was just setting, but it was raining. As I drove home from work, a light went off in beer-addled brain and I realized I had forgotten my jacket, and more importantly, my wallet, back at the site. We had had a few beers after work, but just enough to get me buzzing (and forgetful). I pulled over and, making sure the road was clear, banged a U-ey. It was gonna take another 20 to backtrack and then 45 to get home. And it's raining.

My cousin, Ryan, got me the job with his crew. I had been on a couple weeks; I liked it. The crew was nice and had no issue with my being gay, unlike the last assholes who - accidentally - took the ladder away and went to lunch when I was on the roof. And the nail gun kept misfiring when I'd walk by. Odd, I know.

Assholes.

So, twenty minutes later I make it back to the building site, a private home out all by itself on a hill, surrounded by woods. They'd had the house area cleared out; I think they sold the resulting lumber for a fortune. It was wicked dark out, no other homes or streetlights. On one hand, kinda pleasant but still kinda scary at night. I stepped out of the car and noted that there was a light on in the house. Looked to be in the main bedroom, which was where we had gathered for a few beers after working. Someone forgot to turn the light out, which was good cause my jacket was probably up there. Most of the house was sealed in, but that bedroom still had open walls 'cause they were arguing over the type and location of the windows they wanted. They wanted to see the view at different times of day. I doubted the light was them 'cause... raining.

Either we forgot it, or there was an axe murderer waiting for me. Or maybe teenagers getting high.

I was halfway to the house when startled by a loud boom of thunder. I jumped, and maybe I gasped a little. Most importantly, it threw off my stride, I hit mud, both feet went up in the air in front of me, and I found myself on my ass in the mud with both legs out straight in front of me. The term motherfucker played a part in the following rant as I pulled myself out of the ground's mucky clutches. Luckily it wasn't cold out, but I could already feel the wet soaking into my ass and thighs. I was not a happy man.

The chain at the board covering the front entry was missing. Which was good, cause it occurred to me then that I wouldn't have been able to get through it. Of course either that was forgotten, too, or the axe murderer was ready to wrap it around my throat. I quietly made my way up, figuring I could jump him and, I dunno, all the moves I've seen in ninja movies would come to me.

I went slowly down the hall and carefully peered ino the room. The axe murderer was seated in one of the folding chairs we used. My jacket would be on the other side of the room. He was looking at his phone and he was... wait. Was he? Omigawd he was jerking off. His pants were at his ankles and his hand was pumping at his lap. I'd like to say I didnt look at his dick because, you know, privacy, but.... it was a big cock. The only sounds were the rain, grunting coming from the phone, and that little slap of flesh on wet flesh. I admit I was intrigued. I hadn't seen an axe murderer jerking off before, Okay, I hadn't seen an axe murderer before either. And those were some long strokes he was taking. I moved closer for a better view. I figured if he went for me, he'd trip over his pants while I made my getaway. I started to get a better view and must have made a sound, 'cause his head whipped around. Shit. Worse than an axe murderer: it was my boss.

"Matt?"

His phone hit the floor. He scrambled at his ankles, pulling his pants up. He realized to get them fully on he'd have to stand and give me the full monty. He bent over, arms folded in front of him. "Amos?! Uh... fuck."

I turned my back on him, giving him little privacy. "Sorry, Matt. I forgot my coat and thought you were an axe murderer. Or stoned teenager. Mostly axe murderer. Sorry. I didn't see... well, I did kinda... but I won't say anything. Fuck. Please don't fire me."

"Amos. Your ass is mud. Literally. You can turn around, I'm tucked away. And I'm not going to fire you. I... um... I was.. ah. Dammit. Sorry you had to see that." He stooped and picked up his phone, looked at the screen and looked at me and then offed the phone. I swear he blushed.

"Hey not the first time I've had a dude jerk off in front of me. Oh god, that was the wrong thing to say. I'm just gonna get my jacket and we can both forget this ever happened." I started across the room, my wet jeans whistling against each other.

Matt started laughing, "Amos, what the fuck happened to you? You fall in quicksand?"

"The house is surrounded by a swamp of mud."

"It is caked on you. Take off the jeans and wipe them down; the roll of rags is over there. And have a beer."

I went over to the box and pulled out a few rags, untied and toed off my workboots, and slowly peeled down my wet jeans. I held them up and realized that wiping them off was not going to fix the issue. I tossed them over the sawhorse, letting my head fall forward in defeat.

From behind me, Matt chimed in. "Sorry to add insult to injury but your underwear looks like you shat yourself."

I didn't even bother to check and skinned my white jockeys off. I wasn't going anywhere for awhile. Rather than walking around balls to the wind, I took off my light flannel shirt, wrapped it around my waist, and knotted the sleeves at the side. I turned around to Matt and caught him shifting his gaze from my waist to my eyes. Was he watching my shirt or checking out my ass? I've got a good ass, I work to keep it firm and tight, no sagging on this booty. He was watching me wrestle with my shirt. Right? Or not?

I spread my arms, "Instant kilt. Now I'll take that beer." I took the offered drink and sat in a chair opposite, stretching out my legs and drinking down half the can in one go. "Won't your family worry where you are?"

He shrugged, "The girls are all at my sister-in-law's. No one is expecting me."

"Huh. I thought you said they were there last weekend. How long..."

"You and Ryan close as cousins?"

Okay, change of subject. "Been all my life. His mom and mine are sisters. Grew up down the end of the street from Ryan. My dad died when I was real young. He did insurance and covered himself really well. My mom was able to buy this small house down from her sister and have enough to keep her comfortable raising me.

"We're only a couple years apart. Folks didn't peg us as family. He was red where I was blond, He's tall and wide where I'm short... shorter and narrow. He's was sport ball and I ran track.

"Ryan was like my older brother.

He only had sisters, so I was his kid brother. If I had a problem, I'd come to him usually. He showed me to throw a ball, skip a rock, punch, jerk off, climb a rope..."

Matt coughed on his beer. "Excuse me: he showed you how to jerk off?"

"Well, yeah." I shrugged. "This one morning I woke up and there was all this sticky stuff in the crotch of my pajamas. I was fuckin' freaked. I changed into shorts, stuffed the 'jamas in a bag, and went tearing up to Ryan's. Didn't even occur to me that it was only like 4 AM. I knew the code to their door, so I just went in, like I usually do, and up to his room. I woke him up saying 'It's broken - I think my dick is broken'. When I showed him my 'jama pants he buried his face in his pillow and laughed. Every time he looked up at my panicked face, he lose it again and bury his head in the pillow. He finally calmed down and explained about wet dreams to me. Said it was due to build up and I had to jerk off to relieve pressure. Yeah, I didn't know what that was. He threw back his covers and he was naked with a boner and he showed me how to do it. I got pretty good at it too. Lots of practice. Lots."

Matt sipped at his beer, looking puzzled. He started to ask a question and stopped. Started again and stopped. The man actually blushed.

"Oh," I said. "I get it. No, we didn't have sex. We have never had sex with each other. That'd be like incest. Yes, we jerked off together sometimes, but it wasn't about sex with each other it was just guys and their dicks. You get that, right?"

"Yeah, actually I do."

His eyes were locked on me, kinda oddly. I tipped back my head to finish my beer and saw his eyes drop. As I put the empty down, I glanced at my lap and realized I'd slouched down and dropped my legs open to be more comfortable. My junk was on partial display to him thru the gap in my 'kilt', if he chose to look. I took no pity on him and left my knees open. If he wanted a look, let him look.

"Ryan always had my back. In Junior High it was fairly apparent I wasn't like the other boys in that I didn't do sports or talk about girls. There was this one guy, a bully, who zeroed in on me, calling me a fag. I didn't even know myself if I was, tho he was right. He talked about how he was gonna beat me up after schoool the next day, cause thats what they do to fags. Of course I mentioned it to Ryan to see what I should do and he gave me pointers on fighting. The afternoon came and that bully got me cornered behind the school. He got in a few good punches, and I gave him a couple, but not as good. Then Ryan stepped thru the crowd and gave the guy a bloody nose and said no one better bully me again or he'd beat the shit out of them. And no one did. Not until college, but that was kinda different and I handled it. Oh yeah, he made the bully cry."

Matt stood up and walked over to hand me another beer. "What happened in college? "

I looked up him, his pecs jutting out over a firm stomach, his basket full and at mouth level. Stop, it's your boss. "A lot happened in college. And I'd be oversharing. It's off-color, not safe for work."

He turned back to his seat, butt cheeks shifting under his jeans. He sat, manspreading, and cracked another beer. "This is the worksite, but this isn't work. Even when it is work, there isn't much that isn't safe, you've heard these guys. I came out of the office one day to have them all mooning me. Then they stood around laughing and chatting with their pants down. They wouldn't get back to work until I dropped my pants as well. And I like a dirty story. If you're up to tell it, I'm listening."

"OK. But say stop if it gets to be too much info." And I hope I don't get too "up" for it cause I'm just wearing a shirt.

"Deal." He sat back, stretched out his legs, crossed them at the ankles, took a swig of beer. "Once upon a time..."

"I ran track in high school and got a scholarship based on that. I was good on the team, tho others were definitely better. There was this Sophmore, James Vittoria, who was an asshole and a bully. He was also kinda hot and had this bubble butt...

"During one practice, we were doing the relay and I was handing off the baton to Jim. I passed it, saw him grip it, and then he fumbled it. He fumbled every fucking time I passed it. After the second time, I heard him mutter 'faggot'.

"In the lockers, I was getting ready for the shower and I heard him and his buddies the next row over. Jim was saying how the faggot kept dropping the baton when it was passed and the fag shouldn't be on the team and definitely not in the showers. I went around to his side, towel around my waist, ditty bag in hand. They all stopped talking to look at me and I said 'You fumbled it. Every time.'

"He stepped in front of his gang and said "You dropped it cause you were so busy staring at my ass, faggot. And let me know when you're done in the showers. I don't want you staring at what I got and thinking fuck knows what." I shook my head and started to turn away and the asshole goes "Hey, faggot, you want your thrill? Take your look." And he pulls off his towel and stands bare-assed in front of me. I looked him in the eye, looked at his junk (which was ok), and looked him in the eye again and said "Sorry, not much to look at."

"His buddies started laughing and he turned red and said 'I'm a grower, not a show-er.'

"So am I," I said and whipped off my towel. I have a big dick. I'm not bragging, I just know it from seeing other guys. He was showing two or three inches soft and I was showing about four - soft - and thicker than his. And my balls are big, not like his wrinkled peach pits. It helps that I'm skinny, too, and on the shorter side, cause it looks all out of proportion, in a good way. His buddies laughed and slapped him on the back and just walked past him to the showers. A couple even patted me on the shoulder. "

Matt grinned, "Now that's not dirty, you're fine."

"I'm not done.

"A few weeks later, maybe a month, he and I are tasked with bringing in the hurdles. There wasn't much conversation. He was sullen and dragging his feet. Guess it was beneath him to get them. By the time we got to the lockers, everyone had showered and left. I stripped down, grabbed my stuff and headed to the shower room. It was one of those gang showers with multiple shower heads in one area. I hated those since high school. Had to concentrate on not looking and on, god forbid, not getting a boner. Everyone in high school and college knew I was gay, but it made me nervous. Of course there was always a straight guy or two that just boned right up and made no mention of it waving around in front of them. "

"Anyway, I'm facing the shower and I hear one go on behind me. I start sudsing up and turn my back to the water. There's Jimbo, right across from me. And I see him look at me, look at my dick, and say 'So, how big does it get?'

'You really want to know?' I said.

"He glanced around and said, 'Yeah.' So I started sudsing my junk, and squeezing it, and stroking it. All the while just staring at him, watching him stare at my dick growing bigger. When it topped out around seven, I glanced down and saw his was hard and bopping up and down. I stepped forward and he stepped forward. Without taking his eyes off it, he says, 'Can I touch it?' I say 'Have at it' and he steps close and grabs the shaft with a shaky hand and strokes up and down. He looks up at my face, then back down to my cock, his mouth hanging open a bit. And he licks his upper lip a little. I let him stroke it some more, get familiar with it. I put a hand where his neck meets shoulder and gently push down. He looks at me again. I push and he goes right to his knees. My cock is right in front of his face, dripping a little. I put my hand at the back of his head and push, but he resists. I bring the head to his lips, swipe it over them, leaving a trail of precum. He licks at it. I press my cock to his lips again and he opens his mouth and I, being a cocky asshole, say 'Suck it, faggot' and shove in to the back of his throat. He chokes a little, but doesn't push me away. He gripped the base with one hand and starts pumping his head up and down.

"He was hungry. There was spit drooling out, he tried to take it all and choked. I grabbed his head and backed him off. Held it still and started feeding it to him and drawing back. I prodded the back of his throat a couple times, when I felt him tighten I told him to swallow and went deeper in. I used him like a fleshlight. His eyes were watering and nose running, but he had a grip on my ass that would not let go. I felt the build up, so I pulled out and shot a thick rope over his face. Cock back in and he swallowed as I pumped more out. When I was done, I pulled out, soaped my cock clean, rinsed and walked out. I glanced back and he was still on his knees, his head hanging down. I said 'Don't worry, I won't be telling anyone.' I heard a quiet 'Thank you.' as I left the showers."

I sat back and looked at Matt. His beer was at his lips but he wasn't drinking. "Okay," he said, "that was hot. Trashy, but yeah," he put his hand on his crotch. "It got me hard." I saw him squeeze and realized his hard shaft was running up toward his hip. It was definitely a handful. And I had an obvious tent in my kilt.

"Did you tell anyone?"

"Not then. I told Ryan that summer. He said I was an asshole, that I should have befriended him. The guy was a stuck-up bully who'd vote Republican and never come out."

"You don't know, maybe he surprise you."

I crushed my empty can. "I ran into him recently, downtown. He was here on business. Asked me to hook-up and when I said no, asked me where a good sex place to was. He's married now with three kids"

Matt tossed me another beer. "His story isn't over. He may surprise even himself." He took a long pull of beer. "I had a boyfriend in college. Kind of."

"What?" I was honestly stunned. I admit I suspected he'd gotten a blowjob from a guy, maybe experimented one really drunken evening during a three-way. He's married with two little girls, no hint of lavender, as my friend David would dish.

"I was a frat boy," he said, "and shared a room with this guy Kevin. We met when we joined the frat as freshmen and by Sophomore year we were best friends. We studied together, hit the parties together, played wingman for each other, got too drunk, talked about life. I was best man at his wedding.

"This one night we went to a party but it was lame. We had a few drinks and then left to smoke a joint and wander campus looking for a better party. We found a few and had drinks at each of them, but ended up wandering out. Smoked another joint. By 1 AM we were heavily buzzed, but not stupid drunk. Okay, maybe a little stupid.

"We were at the side of this one building, taking a leak on it, and Kev says 'Wanna go swimming?'. I'm like 'It's kinda cold, we're who the fuck knows on campus, and the campus pond is three foot deep and full of swan shit. '

"He said, 'We're at the far end of campus and this is the old athletic building. There's a pool in there and...' He points up and there's window angled open. 'Gimme ten fingers'. I do, and ten fumbling fingers turns into him standing on my shoulders and then pushing off my head, but he wriggles his way over the sill. 'Meet me at the front door.'

"I go around and the front is lit up, there's no sneaking. I walked casually along the front, but I was pretty stoned so I probably looked like a guilty bad guy slinking in a cartoon. The door bursts open and there's Kev and he bellows out 'C'mon in!' I'm surprised the campus police didn't descend on us right then.

"We go in, the place is pitch black. We're walking really quiet and Kev says 'This'd be perfect for a guy with a chainsaw to jump out at us.' I told him to shut the fuck up and he giggled the rest of the way. It was pretty scary tho. No lights. Empty corridors. I realized we were holding hands in fear; said nothing about it cause it made it less scary.

"We got to the Men's locker room and went thru there and the showers to the pool. Big windows up top letting the moonlight in. Water still. And quiet. So quiet. We stripped down and lowered ourselves into the water. It felt so nice, swimming quietly in the deserted pool. I turned my head to say something to Kevin, and he's not there. I tread water looking around. No Kevin. Just then it hit me that he probably took off with my clothes. I start to swim back and... BAM! : Kevin pulls me under water. I struggle back up and he's there laughing, saying I shrieked like a little girl. I called bullshit, tho I probably did. I lunged at him and pushed him under by the shoulders. Then it was a free-for-all of dunking and wrestling and swimming away. Just two naked dudes horsing around.

"We ended up in the shallow end, catching our breath and chuckling. Kev says 'I love you, buddy." and gives me a big hug. My head on his shoulder, I say that I love him, too. He pulls his head back, still holding me and just looks. And then we are kissing. Not just friendly kiss stuff, our tongues are wrestling, our dicks are hard and rubbing on each other, I got a firm grip on his ass. To this day, I got no idea know who started it, Kev neither.

"We moved to the side, my back on the tile, and he's rutting against me. "Get up," he said. "Sit on the edge." I pressed up as he boosts and I'm there looking down on him standing between my legs, his hands rubbing my thighs. Then he took my cock in his hand and dropped his head onto it. My gasp sounded so loud in there. He's running his tongue around the head and working his way down. I drop back on my elbows and watch. His head is pumping on me, occasionally he gacked cause he took it too deep. Luckily I'd been drinking or I would have popped off already.

"Then he's licking the shaft from sack to head. He pushed my legs apart and up and he got my balls in his mouth, like he's juggling them with his tongue. Pushed my legs back and he's licking on my taint. Then he's between my cheeks and french kissing my asshole. When he did that, my world went whirling. I pulled my knees. to my chest and dropped back flat, lost in this wild feeling of enjoyment and lust. He's tongue-fucking me and I'm just in this constant moan.

"He climbed up and pushed my legs down. Straddled my hips so we're cock-to-cock. He kissed me again while he humped his balls, cock, and butthole over my dick. I pulled him up so I could take his dick in my mouth. It all felt so natural that I'd be doing this with him. I'd never sucked a cock before, but I'd gotten enough to know what felt good. He was in a plank over me, fucking my throat, and I'm stroking my cock in rhythm to him. And he cums, rocketing down my throat and filling my mouth. I swallowed and came at the same time.

"We showered off, not ashamed at all, not awkward. Got dressed and went back to the House. We both kept on dating, or just sleeping with, women. And we kept on with each other. We kept on after college, all thru his meeting his fiance and getting married. I was best man. We kept on after he was married. It didn't feel like cheating, it was just a part of us."

"And his wife, did she find out?"

Matt smiled at the memory. "Yes. We had a drunken weekend away in cottage and ended up in a three-way. When she saw us in bed with each other, she knew it wasn't the first time. I woke up spooning Kev and she was asleep in my room. She was kinda pissed, but after talking with us, she came around. Over time she realized that it wasn't taking anything from her marriage, or later from their kid."

"And your wife?"

"This all happened, and ended, long before I met her. And, to be honest with you, as of 5 PM yesterday, I don't have a wife."

My thoughts must have shown on my face, cause he burst out laughing. "I am NOT an axe murderer. We are now legally divorced. She and my daughters are staying with her sister, who happens to live near my ex's boyfriend. We've been separated, tho still in the same house, for over a year. I'll get a new place and we'll sell the current house. "

He stood and held out arms, turning about, "And this will be my new home."

"What? This is your place?" I stood up, quickly, and my head started spinning and my eyesight dimming. Matt caught me as I stumbled and I found my head cradled against the muscle of his solid, warm chest.

"You okay, Amos? You gonna puke?" he asked.

I spoke into the warmth and firmness of his chest. It felt comforting and sexual at the same time. "Don't say puke, cause then I'll have to. I dont have to. I do wicked gotta piss. I need to go down to the porta-potty and drain some out."

"The stairways are dark and it's still raining out there. That wall is still open, just piss there."

"I don' wanna piss on your floor."

"Then don't. Aim over the side." He held me at arm's length and looked down at the tent my half-hard was making. "That looks big enough to get beyond the floor. Make sure you hold onto a stud so you don't fall out."

I turned toward the open wall at the other end of the room. "Wouldn't be the first stud I held onto." The knot in my shirt-kilt was being stubborn as I fumbled with it on my walk. I stopped mid-room, pushed the kilt down to the floor, and walked bare-assed to the wall. I was a bit shakey. I felt his hand on my shoulder, steadying me. We walked to the edge by the corner of the room; he kept one hand on my shoulder, the other on my waist. I relaxed, my arms at my side, and felt the trickle, then the stream as I sent an arc of piss out into the night. I dropped my head back onto his pecs. He stepped closer, one arm sliding across my chest, the other hand took hold of my dick and aimed it out. His hand was rough, but warm and comforting on my dick. He smelled like sweat and sawdust, the stubble on his cheek grazed mine as he looked over my shoulder. He shook the last drops out, shook it some more, cupped my balls in his hand and kissed my neck.

He moved me to the side, back against the wall, hand pressed against my chest to make sure I was steady. Then he opened his pants and hauled out a heavy, hairy cock and sack of large balls. His hand went back to my chest as he let loose a stream over the edge. I watched, this simple bodily function so erotic in the rainy night. I didn't have to look to know my dick was now at full attention with no kilt to hide it. I could feel tension of the skin stretching on the shaft, and my pulse making it twitch.

He finished shaking himself and turned to me. He peeled off his t-shirt, showing an expanse of furry chest and solid stomach. He pressed himself to me, his soft cock against my hard; his wide, hairy chest to my narrower and smooth one. His hands went to either side of my head, his thumbs under my cheeks, and his lips brushed mine. He swept his mouth by again, his tongue wetting my lips. My mouth opened for him, but he held me back. He looked me in the eye and said, "Are you okay with this? Are you sober enough for this?"

I tried to nod, but he wouldn't let my head move. "Yes. This is okay and I am sober enough. "

"I'm your boss, Amos."

"Not tonight. You're not my Boss, just the boss of me"

He kissed me again, each hand palming a butt-cheek in a firm grip. He lifted me up, my dick rubbing up his stomach, leaving a pale trail of precum. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. As he nibbled at my throat, I humped my leaking dick against his hairy belly. I felt the head of his cock nudging ass.

He carried me back to sit on the chair. Walking past me, he came back with a roll of foam and a sleeping bag. He undid the foam, lay it on the floor, covered it with the opened sleeping bag. Standing at the other side of the mattress, he toed off his workboots and socks. He pushed his jeans and white jockeys to the floor and stepped out of them. He squatted, his cock bobbing with the action, and dug into his pant's pocket. He pulled out a small tube of lube and a couple condoms, tossing them onto the mattress. He walked to the middle, opening his arms.

He was solid, wrapped in muscle earned not pumped up. Fur poured down from his chest, narrowing as it flowed down his belly. He didnt have a six pack, but tapered to his hips, it was a slab of muscle that gave him a thick waist. The hair narrowed to his navel, trailing down to pool into a nest of pubic hair. His cock was hard; heavy and wide. His ballsack full with large testicles. Thigh muscles arched out to either side. The flair of his calf muscles was apparent from the front. Wide feet, squared toes dusted with the hair that ran down his legs.

I stood and walked to him. Put my hand on his chest and slid it down his torso. I dropped to my knees and buried my nose in between his balls and thigh. His sweat and musk made me dizzy and I drew down into my lungs. My tongue tasted his inseam and I dragged it onto his full balls, letting his cock stumble on my face as I drew each sphere in, sucked it, teased it, pushed it out and drew in the other. His fingers were in my hair, not guiding me, holding on as I bathed his sack. I took his thick cock into my mouth and tongued the head. I could taste precum on my tongue. I swallowed him back and deep-throated him like a snake. He humped my face a few times, then drew out dripping saliva.

He pushed me down, to lay on the mattress. Straddling my waist, he kissed me, drawing my tongue into his mouth. He moved to my throat, his scruff chafing my skin as he nibbled down. He took my hard nipple in his mouth, sucked it, teased it with his teeth. He shifted lower, kissing and suckling a trail to my navel and down the blond hairs into my pubes. His hot breath at the base of my dick, I wanted to cum right then, moaning my frustration.

He knelt beside me and had me roll over. His rough hand slid down my back and onto my butt. His hands kneaded my ass, I heard him growl. "Lift it up," he told me. I drew onto my knees, my shoulders still on the mat. He shifted behind me, stroking my ass. His fingers parted my crack. I felt hot breath in the crevice and then his damp tongue burrowed down. He pulled my cheeks apart as he pushed his face in deeper. He licked at my hole, swirled his tongue around it, fastened his lips on me. When he growled, I could feel the vibration in me. There was no polite way to describe it; he ate my ass. Drool ran down my taint to drip off my balls. I could feel the precum running in streams from my dick. The snap of a cap and I felt cold lube run down my crack, his fingers massaging it into my hole. A thick, rough finger entered me. I'd like to say I gave a deep moan, but to be honest it was more a whimper. A second finger joined the first, opening me more. They pushed in and drew out. "Oh, Daddy," I mumbled.

SMACK. His hand landed full on a cheeked, I clenched around his fingers, felt my cock bobbing. "You do NOT call me Daddy."

"I'm sorry. Uh... Sir."

His fingers probed me more, pumping deep in my hole, brushing my prostate. "That works. Or, you can call me Matt. This isn't role playing. I'm doing this with you, Amos. To you." He pulled his fingers out. "Roll on your back." I did and he pushed my knees up toward my chest. Put my ankles onto his wide shoulders. He tore into a condom and rolled it over his erection. As he stroked lube onto his cock, he stared me in the eyes, grinning.

"This isn't a game to me." He pushed down and kissed me, holding himself in a plow above me with my legs bent up. I felt the head of his cock brush against the crack of my ass. He looked down. Shifting his weight to one arm, he used the other hand to put himself on target. He pressed into me. Arms back to my sides, his hips slowly drove his hard cock inside me, prying me open. He was big. I felt myself being stretched wider to take him. He was filling me and more kept pushing in. My eyes rolled into my head as he knocked against my prostate and the shaft rubbed it as he went deeper.

He was fully seated in me, his bush crushed against my ass. I grabbed his head and kissed him, inhaled him. As he drew back, I took his lip in my teeth. I felt the head at the opening again and he pushed forward. I gasped, my back arched. He fucked me. Deep. Pumping into me, his hips slapping on mine. I couldn't talk beyond grunts amd moans. I could hear him saying my name as blood roared in my ears. I held onto him as he rode me, his face buried in my throat. At one point I knew I was cumming, knew he was driving it out of me. I bit his shoulder.

He pushed deeper into me and shook. There was warmth inside me as he emptied his balls into me. And he kept fucking me. The ride was smoother with his cum for lube, I heard it splashing as he humped. He went faster, my ass burned with the friction. He lunged deep again and held there as he came into me a second time.

He collapsed onto me and I held onto him tightly. He kissed my throat, my mouth. He dropped his head beside mine. With him still inside me, we both gave in and slept.

I woke up as the sun was rising. Matt slept on his stomach beside me, his hand on my chest. Hearing the bathroom call me, I slid from beneath his hand and stood. I hadn't had a good look at Matt from this angle. A full, hairy butt and burly thighs. I thought about waking him with a well-earned rimming, but his low snore was kinda cute and I needed a bathroom. Now.

It was early morning Saturday, so I figured no one was around. I grabbed my workboots and headed for the porta-potty naked. I put the boots on before going out on the muddy yard and tramped to the loo.

That taken care of, I headed back upstairs barefoot. Keeping quiet, I started rounding up my clothes.

"What are you doing?" grumbled Matt.

I turned to see him, still on his stomach, his head on his crossed arms. "Sorry. I fell asleep. I'll just get my stuff and go."

"You weren't some trick to kick out in the night, Amos. I wanted to find you here when I woke up." He reached back and scratched a cheek of that beefy ass. He pushed himself up, his morning hard swaying as he walked to me and took what clothes I'd gathered. He pulled me into a hug and kissed me on the mouth. "Sorry, my breath is probably horrid."

I kissed him back. "Mine's no better." I kissed the side of his throat. My fingers found his nipples. I squatted, taking his morning hard into my mouth. Heard him gasp as I sheathed all of him in my throat and grabbed his ass with my hands, holding him in me. His hands grasped my head and he rocked his cock in my mouth. As he drew back, I grabbed a breath and pulled him back in, burying my nose in pubes that smelled of sweat and me. He didn't last long. A few more thrusts, my throat swallowing against him, a shocked moan; he went up on the balls of his feet and shot into my stomach. As I released him, I caught the last ropes of his salty jizz on my tongue. He pulled me up and kissed me again, tasting his cum on my tongue. He pulled me close.

"Get your damp pants on. You're coming to my house for breakfast."

I smiled. "Only if you're lunch."