Cherry Ass

I had only met Jon twice and both times we were distracted by the events around us - first a party and then a neighborhood mixer. Finally, he came by and we spoke more candidly. After a conversation which ranged from interests in the arts to political leanings, education and local restaurants, we complained about the weather. It was unseasonably hot and we both agreed that it was also unreasonably hot. He invited me to come swim in his pool and I, conscious of the time, thought it was too late in the day to swim. Jon said no, it was still very warm and so I told him I would come over in an hour. I still had things to do but would be there, I promised. Our houses back up onto a common alley, his on the northside and mine facing south. Promptly an hour later, I strolled down the alley and was at his gate in swimsuit, swimshoes and holding a towel.

He was expecting me and when he saw my shadow, he came and opened the gate, part of a tall wooden fence that shielded the house from street noise and the typical urban debris that swirls around busy streets. The pool was not large, but big enough to splash around in and no more than six feet deep. There was a wooden deck, a trellis, an outdoor fire pit and three or four chairs at the far end of the short yard. We drank wine, talked some more, and shared some intimacies -- personal history. He was recently separated from his partner, a brief romance that left him despondent for only a few days. I, on the other hand, had been single and not attached to anyone for a long time. I am not a hermit but I am reclusive. Accepting Jon's invitation was a bold step for me.

After an hour, Jon said he was 'pruning up' and was ready to go inside. I thought this was a hint to go and so I made my excuses and appreciation for the visit and exited.

Very near noon a few days later, a week, perhaps, I encountered Jon in the alley as I drove in. We chatted briefly, we repeated how much we had enjoyed our visit and he repeated his invitation for me to come by and swim whenever I wanted. I said thank you but declined and we parted. I drove into my garage and he continued policing his segment of the alley.

I took in my groceries, set them on the counter, and thought to myself 'Why not? Why not go over to Jon's and swim?' So, I called him and told him I had changed my mind. I said I could be over in fifteen minutes. Ten minutes was just enough time to put away the refrigerables and quickly change. In fifteen minutes, I was at the gate and Jon invited me in. He had changed as well and wore the same swimsuit he had previously worn but I was in another pair of trunks, a souvenir from Panama. I put my towel on the poolside table and looked around.

"Is it just us?" I asked. Jon said yes, his housekeeper came on alternate days. "Then do we need to wear suits?" I asked this casually and Jon did not reply so I casually untied the knot in the string holding up my suit. Jon shook his head in the negative and I dropped my suit onto the deck. I walked to the pool steps and slid into the water. Jon watched me and then he pulled his trunks off too.

Jon is a handsome man. Wearing a white beard, with crystalline blue eyes, he smiled easily and laughed even more so. Not too tall, he was solidly framed, neither too thin nor chunky. He clearly exercised and had that square male physique, hardly a curve anywhere except in his legs. But of course, even as I swam pretending not to observe him, I was very curious about his genitals. He was uncircumcised, a point in his favor as I was and always found foreskin especially intriguing. His penile shaft was healthy, a good girth and swayed over a droopy sac with two matching ovals. I couldn't guess how long he might be fully erected but I thought it would not be shameful. Jon's hair was a mixture of dark hairs with odd grey hairs. He was much hairier than I, dense almost furry legs, and I imagined a really bushy ass, really dark hairs sprouting out of his crack. He stood there wondering what to do, almost posing I think, because he knew he was attractive. He had confessed this to me before and I could now agree.

I was paddling about in the center of the pool when he entered the water. He wanted to swim up to me but I retreated to the side and he swam idly, almost in the same spot I had just vacated. We talked about the weather, he was about six feet from me, in the center of the pool, and I hanging on the edge.

"You want to have some fun," he asked.

I said I was having fun.

"Sex," he said. ""You wanna fuck?"

"I am not much," I said, "of a fucker."

Jon smirked at this and said, "C'mon. I can see you're ready." And he motioned with his head at me. I had to admit I love getting a hard on and so I was ready. My dick was getting bigger and waving in the water, stiffer, obvious to Jon, but I didn't know if I was quite willing and able. "Let me come closer," he said.

"Look," I said, "I've only had a couple of blow jobs and I don't know if I am ready for anything more."

"What," he looked stunned. "You got a cherry ass?"

"What's that," I asked.

"Then you got one if you don't know what it is."

Jon came closer and gave me a bear hug. It was a big hug; he wrapped his arms around me and we were skin to skin. I could feel his bush on my leg and I guessed his dick was poking me. "Didn't you get fucked in college?" He asked. I didn't really want to answer that and he did not pursue it. What he did do was put his hands on my hips and said "Cherry ass."

Jon became more and more, what shall we say, exuberant. He pulled me into the shallows and pushed me onto the steps and gave me a blowjob than made me weep. What he did with my cock was amazing. It was not just my dick he sucked. His hands roamed over me between my knees and my tits. I thought I was going to have love bites all up and down my body. He licked, he spit, he teased me and I shook and he waited, pausing to kiss me elsewhere. He made me spread my knees, open my legs. Jon knew me well. He knew me better than I did. When I said I was about to cum, he said he could tell and he then paused and waited. My little dick wilted, would go soft, and he would pinch my tits and then find a spot near my ass that he liked to punch. Jon was stroking me in an interesting combination of delicate scratches and surprise punches. He punched me on the ass, I jumped and he said 'So noted." I forgot to say 'no, not yet' but he was already massaging my inner thighs. His thumbs were magic. And when he touched my balls, sucked on 'em, I thought my whole legs would fall off.

Jon finally stood up and I told him I wanted to suck his dick, too. He said that was ok but I was not supposed to get him off. He said he was savin' himself for me. In a curious tone he asked, "You give head?"

"I give blowjobs. At work," I said.

"How old are you," Jon asked. I said I was twenty-eight, but it was a lie - I am thirty-one. Jon raised his eyebrows. "Where? How?"

"In the closet."

"Sad," he said. "You need to be out more." I agreed and said something about my own dick and he stopped me and said, "Your dick is just fine. Don't go feelin' like it's not."

I think a dick is a handsome piece of external hardware. I like the way it moves, how it rolls on a flat stomach and jerks awake in fits and starts. I like the shape of the head. When I give a blowjob, I like sticking my tongue down on the end and nibbling. I like it when I give head men shake, quiver and pull back. Dicks are essential organs of the body. They are veined and fleshy and mystical. Even when they are fully engorged and rigid, banana curved, a biological sword, a carnal hammer, dicks are a sexual functioning thrill. I like the taunt skin of a hard dick, the banded colors of circumcised pricks or the tender skins of foreskins. I like dicks. I like dicks towering over a shaved hairless groin or protruding from a bush of dark hair. I like the cum they shoot. I like it when it spews or dribbles, if it's creamy or gloppy. I like sticky, I like silky. I like cum when it shoots over my face or when my hands are slick with spermy, creamy stuff. I like it.

"Stop! Wait," he yelled at me. I was sucking as hard as I could and I guess I was thinking about other things, other guys, and not paying so much attention to how close Jon was to ejaculating. We were still on the pool steps and Jon kind of picked me up in that big hug way he had and put a towel around me. "C'mon over here," he said and he lay me down on the chaise lounge and then said, "No. We gotta go inside." Jon pulled me up and we went inside. I followed him down the hallway to his bedroom and he, he turned to me and we kind of fell on each other on the bed. Jon was kissing me and on me and our dicks were banging against each other.

We had lots of skin on skin, legs locked on each other, our chests pushing together. "I got lube," he said. "We gotta use lots of lube." With that he reached over to the bedside and pulled out a tube that was labeled 'Wicked.' He put a dollop on his hand and put it under my balls, pushing it all the way to my ass where he added a bit more. I liked his hand there. I liked he knew what he was doing and I was trying to watch him. He put the lube on his dick and I volunteered to help him rub him. The lube was slick and my hands were shiny and his dick was shiny. He said lay back and so I lay back and he opened my legs wide. He was adding more lube to me and I liked how his hands made me spread open. He still seemed so far away when I felt his dick prod my asshole. I put my hand to him and he let me guide him although he didn't need much assistance. His dickhead pushed in and I was not ready. I YELLED.

"Cherry ass," he said and put a hand over my mouth. We were at completely cross purposes. I wanted him to stop and he COULD not. I wanted to scream and he wouldn't let me. In my head I was numb with fear but the look on Jon's face was absolute concentration. I know my eyes were bulging out of my head in fright. He was focused like nothing I had ever seen. This was the scariest thing I had ever felt - I knew it must be the biggest dick on any male because the dick in my ass felt bigger and larger and longer than I ever imagined. He pushed in even more and I thought I might die. "Relax," he said. "You gotta relax the sphincter." Someone would find my body somewhere and know I had been murdered by fucking. All I could think of was how I was going to survive.

All I could think of was 'penetrate.' How had he overcome my biggest fears; how had he been able to seduce me. I blamed him. He was a seducer. I had been seduced by him. PEN-e-TRATE. PEN-e-TRATE. It was like a rhythm. He was pushing in with a rhythm. "Let go," he said. He said it like I could, like it was something I could do. He took his hand off my mouth and held my knees wide apart. I had seen this before in porn videos, but he was Jon and I was me and he was fucking me. I saw his hips go up and down and wew were still joined by his giant cock. Looking down my stomach, his dick didn't look as big as it felt. Regardless of my terror, Jon was fucking my ass. I was fucking, really fucking. "Let go," he said again.

I was just staring at him. He was still the handsome man I had occasionally met. He was still the attractive man who invited me to swim, but now he seemed almost a funnel, a man shaped funnel that narrowed down a a single tube, a pipe, a single shaft. Relaxing was the last thing I could think of but I tried to widen my legs even more and he put his hand around my dick and he squeezed me. When I masturbate, I think I am like a pump. I am forcing secret juices hidden in my to surface. He was breathing hard like I do when I am feeling the juices rise. He was pumping me, my dick was engorged again and I wanted to feel my cum rising up. IN. OUT. IN. OUT. IN. I had never seen a man fuck me.

This was not just video porn. I was on my back, missionary style. He was an arms length away and I was watching him writhe, writhe his whle body,. He was fucking and I was mesmerized by his confidence. Coitus. Was that a smile? A grin? Grinning? I thought he must be somewhere in his own head although he was looking at me. His hands pushed on my knees and I held him at his waist. I could see his face and he was muttering something. I was scared yet I thought he must be pleasuring himself with me, he must be closer to his climax or something. "Cherry," he said. He said it again and again, softly and under his breath. I thought he was pushing in faster and jerking on me like I was plastic hose. I couldn't think about him anymore; I was feeling that rush up my English channel, my Suez Canal. It was just an instant and suddenly I was shooting cum on my own face.

"OH, FUCK!" I said it. I said it loud. "FUUUUCCCK!!

And Jon said it too. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." He was shaking and immediately leaned down on me, falling forward, and I felt those intimate paroxysms, those bursts of thrilling energy. I wanted to watch him but I felt him instead. He pushed harder. It was like a convulsion, but it was at his hips. He was attacking me, squirting and shooting everything he had. He was simultaneously squeezing me with his legs, as if he had lept on me and I never realized he was pushing everywhere at once.

I felt myself slowly contracting, feeling spent and exhausted. I don't think Jon felt that way at all. He was exhilarated. His dick was just as stiff and hard as before and he could still feel sexually powerful and stimulated. I felt him testing me, pushing this way and that, stirring like I was a cup and he was a spoon. I didn't mid. I was numb to the pain now. I had passed that threshold and was now just curious as to how long our coital union must last.

Jon looked up at me and saw the sperm splattered on my face. I think he was just as surprised as I was that I had shot a wad so far. He licked it and kissed me and said "Tasty. Memorable." He wanted to roll onto his side but I was not wanting to let him go. I was the hugger now, hugging him like I had never hugged a man before. I didn't know what to say and I couldn't let go of him. Finally, I think he was ready to pull himself out of me and I relented and we both fell on our sides. I waited, expecting him to say something but he remained silent. I could see he was thinking something and although I was curious, I did not want to interrupt or say anything stupid, a distinct possibility. Jon was warm. His body was still close, our legs intertwined, and I wanted to pet him, pet him like a domesticated animal. I let my hands wander and soon I had those pretty butt cheeks n my hands. He reciprocated by deftly having his hands wander about me, even to finding those little private crevices. I could see he was still thinking. I thought perhaps he was worried about something.

"You thinking about something? You worried?" I asked.

He shook his head 'no' but it was not convincing.

"Sure? Anything?" I asked.

He was glum. He looked a little perplexed again and then said, "Yeah."

"What?" I asked.

"I want to know how you escaped puberty without fuckin' or being fucked." Jon said this like it was both a question and a judgement. He was looking at me with one eye squinting and the other focused clearly on me. It was obvious to me that I was not going to get away without a long and full explanation. I touched his dick, looking for his sweet spot. He was still looking at me, expecting an answer.