Links

I love blogs. They are wonderful tools to display stories where you not only get to show off your writing skills but can also indulge in a little artistic expression. However, the one thing I have noticed about them is how hard it is to jump from one chapter to another in stories.

In order to help you readers, I set up chapter links for all my multi-post stories. When you reach the end of a chapter, all you have to do is click on the (To be continued…) at the bottom, and it will take you to the next chapter. I hope this makes it easier for you.

Until next time…

Stripped.Down. Ch. 2

This is the second half of my story entitled Stripped.Down. Enjoy.

In the past ten months you have let me share more of myself with you than most people know of me in the entire twenty-four years of my life. I mean, there’s the easy stuff, like my name- Brian Marshall, and the fact that I’m a cop who has been employed by the Tripton Valley Police Department for the past four years as an officer. You know I love my work, I’m dedicated to my job and I’m on the fast track to advancement. You tell me time and again I’m a damn good officer, and you get angry every time I have my doubts. But when I’m working a particularly bad case that is getting to me, I can count on coming home to your loving arms and soothing words.

You have encouraged me to be more comfortable in my skin, to not worry about being judged for being gay. You say there will always be small-minded people around to rain on my parade and try to turn our love into something ugly. The good Catholic in you says that God is love and cares about all His children; the one who believes in a more liberal interpretation assures me that this means both straight and gay, and who are we to go against God’s will? The only thing that matters is my self-respect and not hurting others. With your help I’m loosening up; maybe not quickly or to everyone, but I’m making progress.

We talked about how and when we knew we were different. You said that when you were twelve you were attracted to a good-looking, male, twenty-ish counselor at a summer camp, and by your mid-teens you came out to your family. Your father already suspected, and there was never any question of holding back their love for you. Your whole family is like that, joyful and affirming.

On the other hand, I figured out the whole gay thing when I was thirteen. I was the quiet kid in the gym room, so nervous over what seeing a naked penis might do to my own that I used to stand in front of my corner locker, staring at the tile walls while I dressed, racing to leave as quickly as possible. I spent my adolescence in denial of my sexuality, going out with the occasional token girlfriend and fumbling at sex, knowing my family would never approve, much less support, the idea that I was secretly in love with my best friend, Aleck. It wasn’t until I moved away from home that I was even moderately comfortable with my sexuality.

Law enforcement lies deep in the bloodlines of my family, and in their heads, cops are supposed to be strong, virile and undeniably heterosexual. We were raised on testosterone and hiding who I am is a necessary evil. My brothers tease me constantly about my sad-sack love life and, when I’m home, try to set me up with girlfriends. No thanks! When questioned about marriage, I tell my parents that my career keeps me too busy for any kind of relationship and besides, being the wife of a cop is a rough deal I wouldn’t want to put any woman through, not even in our sleepy little borough where there’s hardly any crime.

I wish I could be honest and tell them that I am already in a committed gay relationship. I am mindlessly, gloriously, head-over-heels in love with you, Shaun Rory O’Shea. And you are the sexy, thirty year old owner of a gay bar in Tripton Valley named O’Shea’s, which is where I met you almost two years ago. We’ve been together for nearly ten months, and I would give anything to have enough courage to take you home to meet my family. Never have I felt such contentment and peace, such completion. You, my Irish prince, rock my world and have made me totally happy for the first time in my life.

You are the most handsome man in the universe and you don’t even realize it. Just over six feet tall, with a neat, wiry build, you do not have a spare ounce of fat on you which is unusual, seeing as how you like- no, make that worship- beer. You only serve the best in O’Shea’s. You have chiseled good looks with a wide forehead, strong jaw, very white teeth and a hawk nose that fits neatly between your high cheekbones. Your beautifully alive face is framed with curly dark brown hair that is a bit long on the neck and perfect ears. What you do to a pair of jeans can definitely turn me on without even looking at you.

It still makes me blush and smile to myself when I remember that rainy October Monday night almost a year ago. I had come in late and you were serving me beer and trying to interest me in polite conversation. I’d become acquainted with you through the bar twelve months before and had been secretly attracted to you for over six. When you spoke to me that night you were suddenly shy. You asked if I was seeing anyone. The facts of my former boyfriend were no secret; Thaddeus had abused me in so many ways and broken off our affair three months prior. But there had been nobody since him, and I really hated to discuss him because all of the shame and disgust I felt. But on that night I finally opened up and said I was available, scared out of my mind because you were kind and decent and I wanted you to like me.

All of a sudden you touched my wrist with your strong, warm fingers. I looked up into your green eyes and saw such desire it took my breath away. O’Shea’s and all its customers, ambiance and noise just sort of drifted off behind us, and it was you and me holding hands, feeling such a charge I could barely breathe. I’m not usually one to fall into bed on a first date, but as we discussed, this couldn’t be a true first when we knew each other so well and I had been drinking in your bar regularly for nine months.

You told me that you were instantly smitten the very first night I made my appearance at the bar. I guess it was just good karma that brought me into your place; I had never even been in a gay bar before, and the only reason I was there was to interrogate an informant about a potential burglary out of sight of his fellow gang members. But you, Shaun, the master of coolness, bided your time and waited for the perfect moment before stating your intentions, and it was the most endearing thing to know how much you cared about me. How honored I was that you had waited for me to fall in love with you.

That first night of sex with you in your apartment was one of the most wondrous nights of my life. Being older and more experienced, I expected you to be demanding because that was how sex was with Thaddeus. But no; while you took command in a way that made me realize you would always be boss in the bedroom, you were patient and gentle with me. That’s not to say it wasn’t the best, most satisfying sex I’d ever had. Your long, deep kisses, the way your hands swept over my sweating, aching body, how tenderly you took my cock in your mouth to suckle me into heaven. I swear, I saw stars when I finally climaxed. But the best part was the way you didn’t force me to do anything I wasn’t ready for. I felt protected and nurtured in your arms as we slept.

This was not the first time I have been protected by you. I know a little secret that I will share at some point- I guess maybe if the subject of bikers ever comes up between us, and I can just stick it in there quickly. You probably don’t want to embarrass me, but I am mortified enough by what I did. All learned in hindsight, by the way, when a few of the bar patrons asked about my drunken behavior on a certain August night last year.

That was the same day that I discovered one of my best friends on the force was being investigated by internal affairs over a supposed sexual assault, and he’s a good guy who would never, ever entertain the idea of trading his authority for sex. At the time, it looked like the woman had a good case against him, circumstantial though it was, until it was determined that she made it all up. But his exoneration came later. On that night I was in a bad way and my feet found the path to your bar on their own. I don’t fully remember walking in. I guess I got drunk. Lay me out, pissed up and langers, incredibly drunk. I was a man on a mission to blot everything out.

I started with beer and then switched to whiskey which I never drink because I don’t even like it, Irish though I may be. I don’t recall the four big bikers coming in. I didn’t see them staring at me hungrily or know that one of them followed me out the door when I decided to go home. What I do remember is waking up in my apartment the next morning in bed with my clothes on feeling as if my head was going to split in two and not remembering how I got there. I was told later that you and two others in the bar, friends of yours, rescued me from what would’ve most likely been a nonconsensual sexual assault. You asked the cute couple in their ‘30s to make sure me and my truck made it safely home. Some day when I get the courage up to discuss it, I will thank you.

I guess the part of my life that I’m most grateful for is how you have helped me deal with the ruins of Thaddeus. Even though he’s been out of my life for a year and I’ve put a lot of his bullshit behind me, sometimes thoughts him still makes my guts crawl. I don’t know what I saw in him in the first place; I can only put it down to my deep need and acting on animal attraction with no brain activity involved. I think I was flattered that he noticed me at all since he was ten years older and so suave and worldly. Thaddeus just moved into my life and took over, and it humiliates me that I let him.

We began seeing each other early that May, and at first it was good. Quiet dinners in out-of-the-way restaurants, the 1940’s noire films we viewed or going to baseball games, he seemed pleased with me. And the sex was fine, although a bit rough. Then he got into all this crazy, demeaning sub-dom shit, wanting to put me in handcuffs and collars, and no thanks. The more I resisted, the more angry Thaddeus became, and he began to mistreat me.

You, my beloved Shaun, guessed with fair accuracy that he was abusive and leaving bruises on me under my clothing. Nothing made him happy, I couldn’t gauge his behavior and lived in fear of his wrath. The most degrading part was being a cop, knowing I was a victim of domestic violence and feeling too humiliated and afraid to say anything about it. It embarrassed everyone when he wanted to take our private arguments and turn them into public drama in your bar. The screaming and name-calling, the way he made your other patrons hate us; I just wanted him to go away. I know you went to him privately and told him to back off and stay away from the bar, so he broke up with me. If he hadn’t, I have no idea where I’d be now.

When you and I got together, you suggested that maybe I should see a therapist and talk about Thaddeus. I was a little reluctant at first, but in the long run, it made sense. I am working through my problems, and they include more than just the emotional mess he made of me. Being gay, my family’s expectations and how I will someday need to drum up the courage to introduce you to my parents and acknowledge what I am. I go to bed each night with a smile, grateful that you love me and only want what’s best for me.

I love how proud you are of me. I know you secretly worry about my line of work on a daily basis and always tell me to ‘be safe’ when I leave. You hate the danger I constantly face, but you would never ask me to give up being a cop just to make you feel better. We both know the risks, and I say a prayer at the beginning of each shift that I will stay out of harm's way and soon enough be in your warm arms again.

I love how worthy you make me feel by not hiding our relationship. The bar patrons all know that we’re living together. Giving up my apartment was nothing compared to the bliss of waking up every morning in your embrace. Just a few weeks ago you took me home to meet your family- your third-generation Irish parents and your brother, sister and sister-in-law who is looking forward to the upcoming return of Casey, her husband and your brother, from overseas. They have all accepted you for yourself and me for being your boyfriend. They’re so welcoming towards me, so grateful that you and I are together. I heard how happy you are and all the small stories you had shared with them about me before we connected. This is real, this is my future with you, and the trust and love we share is beyond words.

Okay, so today is special for us. It’s a beautiful, warm August day, perfect to be outdoors. I convinced you to hire your friend Jeremy and his cousin, Porter, to run the bar so we can have the afternoon alone, and I said we’re going on a picnic in the National Forest. But that’s not the whole story.

****

“Ready to leave?” you ask. We are standing next to my truck, and it’s a few minutes after 11:30. The food and picnic supplies are inside two backpacks tied down in the bed. The plan is that we will drive to the trailhead, park and hike up into the trees.

I nod yes, staring at you while I mentally go over the list. You look like a god with your dark hair, still damp from your recent shower, shimmering in the sunlight, and your golden skin stretching over the strong muscles in your arms and neck. I can’t see your intense green eyes under your Ray-Bans, but I know they’re smiling because I hear the amusement in your voice. Flicking a quick glance at your crotch, I’m thankful to be wearing sunglasses too, and the way your cargo shorts wrap around your hips and ass, oh, don’t get me started.

I drive because our true destination is a secret. Today we’re going a little farther into the hills than we usually do because I don’t want to run into a lot of people. Actually, I’m hoping we don’t run into anyone. But I’ve hiked this particular trail before, and I know places we can safely leave the beaten path. Places where nobody else goes and the protection of trees in a shroud of vines, ivy and leaf litter invite us. I am assured that we will not be interrupted.

When we don’t make the turn for our usual picnic location, you shoot me a look. “Are you lost, Brian?”

I smile. “I thought we’d go somewhere different this time. Try something new.”

You shrug and look out the window. I sit up a little higher in the driver’s seat, feeling the crotch of my jeans become a little tight and hoping you don’t notice. I struggle to put neutral thoughts into my brain.

We follow another twenty miles up the road, passing less traffic as we drive. I recognize the next turn as the one I want, and the truck revs up to climb higher into the incline. Fifteen minutes later I pull far off to the side of the road and park. You are now giving me completely mystified glances, but all I do is smile back. We climb out and I grab the backpacks, throwing one playfully at you. The temperature is perfect here- cooler than at home, less humid and no sign of rain.

“Follow me,” I command, setting off at a quick clip up the trail. We both are fit, so keeping up isn’t a problem for either of us. I am familiarizing myself with my surroundings until I recognize the spot where we will veer off. You have said nothing the entire hike, just gazed around at the pristine wilderness where we seem to be the only people for miles. You have a speculative look on your face, and maybe you’re beginning to figure out my intentions. It’s not like we haven’t discussed this as a dream of mine several times in the recent past.

We walk in silence for another mile. “Where are we going?” you finally ask, curiosity getting the best of you. “It seems like we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

I laugh. “We’re here, Shaun.” I lead you over to the place I’ve pre-chosen. Here is a very shady, green clearing in the middle of the forest where the tumbled trees and their overgrowth have created a soft carpet and walls to shield us from anyone who might accidentally stumble upon us. But nobody else is around.

I take a large blanket from my backpack, and you help me spread it in the leafy shade. Out of the backpacks comes our lunch: fried chicken, potato salad, coleslaw, croissants and a bottle of Chardonnay. For dessert, I bought pound cake with whipped cream and chocolate-dipped strawberries from our local bakery.

It’s a gorgeous day, a perfect time to spend with you, my lover. I watch as you bend over the corner of the blanket to anchor it down, and I’m looking at your beautiful jean-clad ass. I can’t wait until later when that ass is going to be naked under mine.

We begin to eat, and the food is delicious. I compliment you on the chicken; it’s moist and the spices you use in the coating is a supposed family secret which you listed about four months ago, but I’ve forgotten. You praise my choice of wine and how well it goes with the food. We talk about my work on the police force and how I’ve come out to several of the other officers on my shift. They’re cool guys, and I didn’t detect a single snicker amongst them. You tell me about some repairs you need to make to the bar. We talk about the Cincinnati Reds, whom we root for, and their last baseball game.

Our lunch is finished, and you are lying on the blanket staring up at the oaken tree canopy and clear blue sky. I give you a big grin as I settle beside you. I turn on my side, rolling into you to rest my head on your shoulder.

“I love you so much, Shaun,” I whisper, reaching across you with my arm to grasp you around the waist.

You push my blonde hair off my forehead and kiss it. “I love you too, Brian. You make me so happy.”

In response I pull you over so you are facing me, and I look up into your bright eyes. They twinkle at me, but in the background lust shines. I grasp your head to pull your mouth towards me, and now you’re the one leaning over me, your chest pinning me to the blanket. You run one hand through my hair and put the other under my ass, dragging me into you. Your lips descend on mine, and in one quick move our tongues are dueling with each other as we suck and savor. I can taste the wine from our lunch and I groan into your open mouth.

You break the kiss, panting. “Why are we here, Brian?” you ask, lightly running your fingers through my hair.

“Someone I know works too hard.” I stroke your jaw with the backs of my fingers, smiling as you lean into them but hoping you’ll take my words seriously. “Almost every day from four p.m. ‘til after two in the morning you tend bar. You usually take one night off, and I see the exhaustion in your face and feel it in your body. You love what you do, and I’m not complaining, not at all. But I worry that you’re going to work yourself to death.”

“I love the work,” you reply somberly and sigh. “I love the people who show up night after night, well at least, most of them. People like Jeremy and Porter, who have become good friends. But you’re right, there are some afternoons I wish I had a regular job that I could just leave.”

“Maybe when Casey gets back?” I hint, wanting to dispense the doom and gloom. Casey is in Afghanistan and scheduled to return from active duty in two months. A Master Sergeant in the Marine Corps, he will be leaving after fourteen years of service. You are damned proud of him as you should be, but I see the deep worry you have for his being over there fighting terrorists, and you’re scared that Casey won’t make it home in one piece.

“Maybe,” you muse almost to yourself. Your face brightens and you stare at me. “Of course, if not for the bar, we would never have met, Brian. And that would be a tragedy in itself.”

I giggle at you. “And that brings up the second reason for the picnic. I wanted to spend time in complete privacy outside on a pretty day with the man I love.”

“This sounds an awful lot like a sexy fuck fantasy somebody told me recently.” You stare down at me and get this mischievous gleam in your eye, punching me in the shoulder. “Hey, I think that somebody was you.”

In response, I sit up and pull our dessert out of the pack and your eyes light up. You love strawberries almost as much as you love beer. I open the transparent plastic container and get a fork, deciding that I want to be the one to feed you. But a touch of naughtiness has gotten hold of me. I spear a plump, juicy berry and dip it in the sweet cream, but instead of placing it in your open mouth, I bite into the end and secure it in my teeth.

Your eyes open wide, looking at the red juicy piece of fruit in my mouth, and you move in for a bite. Then I take one. Back and forth we share the strawberries and cake in this fashion, laughing at each other. We slurp the juice and lick it off each others’ chins, until all that’s left is a giant glob of whipped cream in the plastic. I work the fork underneath it and place it on my tongue, and you have such a hot look about you that I want to melt. I pull your mouth down to mine, and we are sharing the creamy sweetness back and forth on our tongues, eating and kissing at the same time. I am tingling all over.

When we’re done, you come up gasping for air. “I think you’re trying to seduce me.”

“You talk too much,” I husk against your mouth. “But seduction works for me.” And with that I pull you into a fluid embrace where our tongues dart and slide against each other and your heat envelopes me to send a strong pulse of desire straight to my brain… and to my hardening cock.

I stroke your face, hairline to jaw, paying particular attention to the outer folds of your ear where you are very sensitive. As I move in to bite your earlobe, my other hand reaches down to squeeze your crotch, and yes, you are hardening, just as I expected. You moan into my lips.

I reach between our bodies and begin to undo the buttons on your shirt, working blind, my fingers sliding down the placket until I feel your shirt falling open. I work the fabric back and off your strong shoulders just as you reach for me and lift my t-shirt over my head. Next up is your white sleeveless tee, and we get tangled up in clothes and hands. You laugh sheepishly.

I rise to my knees and unsnap my shorts, pushing them down with my boxers where I can remove them easily after I sit back down. You have watched my every move, and you eyes darken dramatically, fully knowing my plans for us. I reach over to tug at your shorts, and you allow me to slide them down your legs. We are both naked in this green, secluded clearing with birds chirping around us and not another person in sight.

On knees, we come together for a long, sensual kiss, and I reach down to massage your dick. You gasp when my fingers make contact. As I pull your cock into complete hardness, I use my other hand to roam your strong, beautiful body, grazing over your scratchy jaw and moving down your arm to lightly rub the knuckles. I tease your nipples with my hand, twisting them hard into small pebbles while you moan into my mouth.

Your own hands have begun to wander and you cup my ass to draw me closer. You reach around and find my erect cock, but only use it as a guide to slide down to cup my balls. You are letting them slide through your fingers as you massage the sac gently, and it feels so good. Hands and cocks make contact between us, and I love the familiar ache for you. I rotate my hips, trying to drive myself firmer into your hands. Being in the open air with its tingle of discovery only excites me more.

I gently push you down on your back into the blanket as I begin to move down your body with my lips. I still your hands and place them at your side because this is about pleasing you. Beginning on your forehead, I kiss every inch of your face, sliding down cheek and floating over your eyelids. I nibble on your earlobe and the cord of your neck where it meets your shoulder, and I hear you gasp.

My palms pave the way in the strokes you like, flat caresses against your shoulder and chest muscles that make you groan. I love the soft skin of your nipples, and my lips work them into rosy hardness, knowing it drives you crazy. I nip at them, and you arch your back towards me. When you reach for your cock, I firmly take you hand and push it back down on the blanket. “Don’t, Shaun,” I tell you decisively. “Only I get to touch you.” Looking at me with heated, lust-dazed eyes, you smile wordlessly at the unusual way I am taking command of you.

My tongue darts into the valleys between your defined muscles on your torso and I lick downwards, laving into your navel and forcing small cries of pleasure from you. I move down to your thighs to kiss the sensitive skin there as I bury my face between your legs, smelling the fusion of your musky scent and your sweat. My hair lies across your groin, the blond of it in contrast to your dark brown bush, and you thrust upwards in heightened arousal. You grasp me by the back of my head and try to pull my mouth onto your dick, and I chuckle.

“Patience, baby,” I grunt at you, almost as turned on as you are. I resume my kisses as they flutter over your right hip and down your leg on the outside, traversing the ankle and working back up the inner thigh, just to do the same thing on the other side. You are moaning and twisting in deep need now, your cock hard and dark red, leaking precum in a string that connects to your stomach. “Oh please, Brian,” you beg. “Please suck me.”

I rise up and smile at you, flashing my dimples because you tell me it’s sexy and you love the bright light in my pale blue eyes when we make love. You grin back, knowing what I’m going to do next; I’m about to make all your dreams come true.

I center myself over your groin and extend my tongue to lap the salty-sweet precum off your skin. I will never get tired of your taste. Next I blow a cooling breath over the damp skin, and goose bumps break out all over you. Stroking your straining cock with my hand, I lift it and my lips slowly encircle the domed head as I stare into your eyes. They roll backwards and your body jerks at the sensation of my tongue swirling over the firm top of your delicious cock.

I am gentle in the use of my teeth, but you love how I scrape them lightly across the spongy crown and nibble down the back, following the thick purple vein. My lips suckle on the ridge between head and shaft, and you begin to tremble as my tongue stimulates the raw nerves underneath. You are whimpering deep in your throat. This is the signal to me that you are almost on sensory overload, and it won’t be long before you cum.

Your hips and thighs are jumping with each stroke of my tongue, and I take your shaft in my hand and begin to pump it. Letting my saliva drip down your cock, I suck deeply and pull the head into my throat. You love this, how I can deep throat you without gagging, and your groin thrusts into my mouth.

Sucking and licking, I bob up and down on you, and your cock feels so good in my mouth. Hard and soft both, like silky steel, I am addicted to it. I could spend hours playing with you, pleasing you and keeping you on edge, just micro-seconds from climax, but today there isn’t enough time.

I can tell by your cries that you are getting close, nearly out of your mind with the need to cum, as your head rolls on the blanket and your fingers flex and fist the fabric. I am ecstatic over your enjoyment- how it’s my mouth wrapped around your cock and we satisfy each other out of love.

I wrap my hand around your balls, rolling them in my palm, and you groan hard. “Brian,” you gasp out as a sheen of sweat slicks your body, “almost… there, love. That’s… so good.” Your hand finds my head, fingers winding into my hair, and you frantically hold me in place.

I renew my efforts, pulling the head of your cock in deeply so my throat muscles can massage it, and I feel your body tense. Your balls are pulling up from the sac into your body, and your dick briefly swells. I suck on you firmly now, base to tip, hollowing my cheeks to create an intense vacuum in my mouth and prepare to receive your sweet essence. Without any conscious thought on your part, you are fucking my mouth; your hips punch automatically skyward, and with a cry, you come undone. Your cum vaults through your hard cock, spurting into my mouth in ropes to coat my tongue and throat as I swallow and swallow again.

And then your body begins to relax, and you let your hand fall off my hair to your side. Your dick softens, and with a plop, I let it fall out of my mouth. Lying down next to you as you smile tiredly, I interweave my fingers with yours. We don’t really need to say anything, our thoughts comingle, and your loving green eyes tell me that you are content and satisfied.

My dick has not softened; watching you cum is always a huge turn-on for me, and your hand reaches down to stroke me. You lean into me, flattening me on my back as you kiss me hard, your tongue swiping between my lips to take control of my mouth. My arms reach up to grasp you around shoulders and neck, pulling you closer to me so that we lay in a passionate embrace. You are kissing me and rubbing your hands across the hard planes of my body, fingers outlining the contours of my muscles, and I shiver at your touch.

Your hands find their way to my chest, and you pull at my sensitive nipples. My mouth can’t sustain the kiss under the intense way you make me gasp, and I close my eyes. Lips and gentle bites replace fingers, and I moan as I feel my nipples turn into hard, reddened nubs. They are hard-wired straight to my dick which flutters and lifts off my abdomen, drops of precum spreading on my skin.

“Shaun,” I hiss, “oh babe, please.”

You laugh evilly and move down my sternum to suck the skin around my navel into your mouth as your tongue bathes it, and I feel your teeth biting me hard enough to leave a ring. It is so sexy, and my body squirms beneath the tight hold you have of my hips and thighs. Your fingers delve into the pool of precum above me pubic hair, lifting it off me, and I hear you suck it from your fingers. I groan again, needing your lips on my cock, needing the sweet release you will give me.

You take half of my dick into your warm mouth as your lips suck from mid-shaft to the tip and your tongue strokes all the sensitive places you know about. I gasp as my slit feels the heavy suction, drawing more of my essence from it, but already I am lost in the way you draw your mouth further down on my member and begin to dip up and down over it. I feel the caressing taps of your tongue along the ridge, licking on the cap like a mother cat bathes a kitten, and my groin writhes.

The next time your mouth sinks to my base, you have all of my cock in your mouth. Over the last couple of months you have worked on your gag reflex and I can feel all of me inside you. You suck on me hard and deep, your lips are gentle on the head but nudge deep sensations there, and your tongue plays with me, circling my cock like a cobra. You make lights flash before my eyes and weaken me like a baby.

Muscles bunching and flexing, I begin to thrust into your mouth, and you eagerly take me to the root. “That’s right, Brian,” you say around my hard cock. “Fuck my mouth.”

Your words cause vibrations that rip through me, and my head rolls back in deep arousal. I feel like I’m floating in some desperate place that jars my senses as my pelvis snaps back and forth driving towards the end. Already I can feel the twitches that announce the arrival of my orgasm; they relentlessly build inside me like a volcano about to erupt.

I buck higher and faster into your mouth, seeking the crest, frantic for it. The oncoming bliss sends me into our own private world. I can hear myself whimpering but I have tuned out every other sound of the outdoors, and it’s only me and you. I feel the tightening in my groin, the way my balls pull hard up inside me, and I groan your name. “Shaun… oh, Shaun!”

I don’t know what my body is doing; I just feel throbbing that begins in my center and pours out to every cell of my body in waves of pleasure. Cum races through my cock to spasm into the beautiful wet warmth of your open mouth. I am gasping for air, covered in sweat, my hips arcing high over the blanket. Tears of thankfulness of being with you scald the back of my eyes; I can’t even find the words to express how I feel about you.

You have swallowed every drop of my cum, and as I regain the sense of here and now, you kiss me, sharing the taste with me. Weakly I put my arms around your neck and we hold each other. I settle down from my very intense peak to rest my head against your shoulder as you murmur endearments into my ear. How much you adore me, how much this day has meant to you and all the little things we say to build our relationship into the quiet strength it is.

You roll me over to my side and spoon into me from behind. At any other time in our love-making, depending on the hour, this would signal either arising to get on with our day or pulling each other closer to sleep. But, under the close care of my therapist, I have been doing a lot of healing and putting ideas into perspective. What happened between me and Thaddeus is in the past, and I know I’m completely ready to take steps into our tomorrow.

“I want you, Shaun,” I say thickly. “I need you to make love to me.”

You lift your head to gaze down at me and touch my face gently. “Are you sure, Brian? I don’t want to hurt or frighten you. You don’t have to do this to please me.”

“No, I’m okay. I trust you and need this for us.”

“Oh, love. I promise I’ll be gentle.” You hug me hard, looking like you’re going to cry. You appears so happy that I’m prepared, totally at ease, to take this next step for us.

Yeah, go figure. You and I have been together for ten months, and in all that time we never consummated our union. As awesome as I know you would be and as patient as you have waited, Thaddeus was so physically and emotionally abusive that I have shied away from love-making. Being vulnerable in the face of domestic cruelty sets up the worst kind of trust issues, ones that weren’t easily healed, and I had too many emotional scars. I love you in that you never pressed for more than I could handle, nor expected it would be easy for me to deal with, never expressed disappointment in my lack of willingness. I’m ready now. I want you to make love to me because I have faith and adore you, and I know you love me. You would never, ever hurt me.

“How do you want to do this, Brian?” You are leaving the position to me, and I gulp a little, hoping I don’t look panicky. I am a bottom, you are a top, but I know there is no way I’m ready to do this from the back yet. For now, I need control, and I smile at you, comfortable that you’ll allow me to have it.

I lean over to grab my pack and remove lube from a small pocket. I accidentally knock a condom out as I pull my hand away, and when you see it, you laugh, making me blush. I only brought it in case you insisted on using one, but we’ve been monogamously together for ten months. There is nothing for us to worry about.

“Are you sure,” you ask, concern for me radiating off you. You aren’t talking about the condom.

In response, I hand you the lube. I roll closer to you and stare darkly into your eyes. “Need you, Shaun.”

You use your hands on my ass to separate the cheeks, smoothing the way. You uncap the tube and squirt it on your fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up. You touch my puckered hole and begin to rub it in, your eyes never leaving my face. Oh, the way you touch me feels magnificent, and I groan. My rosebud contracts against your touch as you gently insert a finger. I wince slightly at the unfamiliar burn, and you pull out right away, scared that you’ve hurt me.

“I won’t break, baby,” I tell you, reaching for your semi-hard dick. I stroke it softly, smiling as you eagerly respond to my hand because I know what turns you on. “Please, Shaun.”

You nod at me. I feel you add more lube and re-introduce your middle finger into my ass, and I push back against you to greet the stretching. You twist your finger, and I feel the zing as you rub against my prostate, and I moan. “More,” I beg you, and a second finger goes in, doing the same. My ass is clenching at your fingers and they feel so good inside. You add the third digit, and I break out in a sweat. I am so ready for you to fuck me.

You lay down face-up on the blanket, your erection bobbing over your abdomen and dripping precum. I kneel over you and grab that perfect cock, smearing the precum over my hole. My entire body is focused on what I’m about to do, and I want to sink down on you in one long move, but it’s been awhile. Gently seating myself, I lower my body on to you and gasp as the head of your dick pops inside the muscular ring of my ass. I feel mild pain but it isn’t anything like I expected. My mind is free, free of concern, done with my guilt. I am thinking about how you rock my world. There is no thought of my ex as I groan into the ecstasy I know is ahead of me.

By slow inches I lower myself on you. My ass is relaxed, but I see your stomach muscles tense, and your eyes are closed, breaths shallow and fast. You are already lost in the moment, and you wiggle underneath me in anticipation. “Oh Brian,” you moan. “You feel so good around me.”

I sink onto your shaft, letting gravity pull me down and without pain. Just fullness and stretching, allowing my emotions to take me into the heights, knowing we are one person, connected. My balls are against your dark pubic hair, my cock still hard and pushing forward against your stomach. Looking down, it is one of the most erotic sights I’ve ever seen, and my shoulders bunch forward as I lean in for a long kiss. “I love you, baby,” I husk against your lips earnestly.

“Love you too, Brian. More than ever.” You sigh, and I begin to move above you.

Pushing up on my knees I pull upwards until just the head of your penis is inside me and then reverse the action slowly, deeply. “Oh my love,” you groan. “Just like that.” Your hips punch up to meet my ass, and we rock together.

Your hands reach up and tweak my nipples hard, swirling the pads of your fingers into the firm nubs to make me jump. But despite the small pinch of pain I want this, and I lean into you to let you scrape your fingernails and pull on them mercilessly. In just a few minutes they are like pebbles, rosy and swollen. My body feels like it will erupt in flames.

I set up a sliding rhythm that instantly ratchets up the pleasure. Twisting so that you are stabbing my sweet spot, my hips are undulating on your cock, my head lolling forward and low sounds coming from my open lips. “Oh, Shaun,” I moan. God, you feel so good inside me. I can instinctually sense you are staring at me with intense, aroused eyes, sharing my passion, enjoying how much into the physical sensations I’m allowing myself to fall.

“Faster, love,” you command me softly, your groans turning into deep growls as you try to pound into my ass. Your hands center on my hips, fingers digging into my muscles and lifting me. Our bodies are slick with sweat, and it runs off me in rivulets, joining with your own to pool on the flat planes of your body until it overflows and slides into the blanket. Your breathing is hitched, shallow and panting, eyes closed, face scrunched up in the effort to let me finish first and knowing I will pull you into your own climax.

You blindly reach out to take my cock into your hands, lubing your fingers on the precum that is dripping on you. You begin to stroke me in careful squeezes, massaging the head and down the back to the flared edge. I see flashes before my eyes; I am so close, and I cry out, moving up and down on you in desperate tremors I can’t control. Then you roll my balls in your fingers, and I’m lost and found.

“Shaun, yes… yes… yes,” I scream out into the open air as I feel my balls retract almost painfully and my cum boiling, needing to find an exit. “Been… so long… babe!” I shoot across your abdomen and chest five times in diminishing ropes of semen, each one accompanied by a deep groan. I feel drained in a good way.

My ass is clenching your dick forcefully, and you writhe under me, your muscles twitching. “Oh, my love!” Your face tenses, and I feel your cock inside me swell minutely as your orgasm begins. You are swept upward in bucking trembles and you cum inside my ass. Hot seed spews high inside my bowels, and I fall forward to gather you into my arms. You are still cumming weakly inside me, filling me, as I kiss you hard on the lips.

“I love you, Shaun.” I raise you up with my arm, stroking your damp hair and nuzzling your neck. “I love you so fucking much.”

“Love you too, Brian,” you answer quietly, throwing an arm over my shoulder and leaning back on the other one. “ Clasped together, my cum squishing between our bodies, we allow ourselves to fall into the calming afterglow of making love. I can feel your own cum dripping from my ass, but I don’t care. Our coupling was sweet and intimate, a testimony of our dedication to each other. I am peaceful and sated.

I feel exalted. I have finally done away with all the bad memories of my past and being hurt and mistreated by a man who wasn’t worthy of me, and my future is you, Shaun, the patient, loving man lying with me.

Quietly we sit for a few more minutes, not speaking, just lightly kissing each others’ lips. Your dick becomes limp and regretfully falls out of me and sinks back into your pubic hair. I grab a towel from the pack and clean us up as best I can, but we’ll need a shower when we arrive home, and we laugh. We sort out our clothes and begin to redress, stopping every so often to share a kiss or hug. You gather the remnants of our lunch and put them into the pack to hike out our trash and leave the site as clean as we found it. We fold the blanket, and I stuff it inside my bag. Hand in hand, making for a second check to assure we didn’t forget anything, we hike down to my truck. I still feel your cum leaking from my ass, and you laugh jokingly at the funny way I walk.

On the way back to Tripton Valley I sneak covert glances at you as you doze against the back of the seat. I am fully certain we love each other to distraction, and we will be partners for life. We make up two halves of a whole. But sometimes I do wonder if you have any idea what you mean to me, how strongly I feel our bond. You are my life, Shaun O’Shea.

You are what I imagine bird flight must be like, the warm sunshine on feathers, the cool soaring of the wind currents in my face, wheeling free high in the sky with perfect vision. I guess it’s hard to explain exactly without sounding weird. When we make love you take me easily to the highest peaks in that slow, teasing way of yours that builds layer upon layer of desire inside me. You know what arouses me and how to pull me into the most agonized delights until you guide me through a climax so intense I don’t even feel part of this earth for a minute or two. You make me believe I’m beautiful and courageous and smart, but I can do the stupidest things and you forgive me. You let me be human. You let me be myself.

I am so in love with you, and you with me. We suit each other perfectly. I know nothing can come between us, and everything is right in our world. I have you, and that will always be enough.

The End

© 2011 by Janelle Caves

Stripped.Down. Ch. 1

This is part one of a two-part story I wrote last fall. Please enjoy.

You were mine the minute you walked into my bar.

You have spent a lot of time this past year in my bar. I have watched you. I have wanted you. You just don't realize it yet.

I know almost everything that's important about you. For instance, you're a cop, not much beyond a rookie. You seem young, maybe in your early twenties, but you aren't stupid. You grew up in Illinois, and your family has been in law enforcement for generations. You are a nice kid and have an easy-going attitude. You're Irish with a good Irish name- Brian- that happily trips off my tongue. Brian Marshall.

Halloween was the first time. The first time ever I saw your face. By the way, that’s the title of a 1972 Roberta Flack song from the Clint Eastwood movie, Play Misty For Me. Yeah, once you get to know me better, you’ll find I’m a huge Clint Eastwood fan, and his Dirty Harry flicks are among my favorites. I always go for the strong-but-conflicted cop type.

Sorry, I’m getting sidetracked. Last Halloween was your first time at O’Shea’s, the bar I own which, thankfully, you now frequent. When you sauntered in, my mouth all but dropped open in lust. You were totally drool-worthy with wavy blonde hair in a standard short cut and pale eyes like chips of ice in your round, boyish face. Your nose looks like it’s been broken a few times, and the cheeks are dimpled. You have a medium complexion and no facial hair, not even noticeable stubble. You take care of yourself and exercise. Slightly shorter than average, you’re on the slender side with a strong body that’s made for loving.

On that October night, the crisp gray t-shirt you sported delineated the muscles in your forearms and back, and your soft black jeans weren’t tight, but they definitely showed off your cute butt and toned thighs. Yum! I couldn’t help noticing your rosy lips and flushing cheeks, but I’ll reserve the option of blaming the chill outside for their coloring. There was something about your innocence that made me want to protect you, cop or not, and don’t go giving me lip about how you put your life on the line every day to protect others. I know that. Let’s just say you snagged my attention fast and it never let go.

You were with a friend, a short, young Latino with a straight black hair and coffee-colored eyes. Okay, maybe he wasn’t a friend. He didn’t look particularly friendly or happy to be there, but you grabbed a table near the door. You sat against the wall so your vision always faced into the crowd. The two of you drank Guinness beer, and you were having an intense conversation that lasted over an hour.

Then some guy walked over and asked your young friend to dance. He turned bright red and began to stammer angrily, and for the first time you looked around my establishment with a shocked expression on your face. Typical bar and tables, a pool table in the far corner, juke box near the dance floor. And my clientele is almost exclusively male, many in couples. The dark-skinned man jumped up to swear loudly and chastise you for dragging him into a gay bar and stormed out in a huff. You stayed, your sleepy eyes wide in wonder, like you didn’t even know places like O’Shea’s existed. Your ‘aw-shucks’ grin just about did me in, and I truly hoped you weren’t straight.

Thankfully, you weren’t, but you didn’t show your face for almost two months, and I was afraid something scared you off. Your loss and mine both, I figured, and I tried to forget you. The cops have their own hole-in-the-wall bar on the other side of town, and as a matter of routine, you probably have to hang out there. I identify with living on the down-low. I’ve been out for years, but maybe that isn’t the case with you. Please know that I understand and I want you to be comfortable. However it works out, I’m willing to give you all the time you need.

You walked back in on a cold, snowy night in December just before Christmas. Alone. Same mode of dress- conservative casual, nothing to draw attention to yourself. Took the same seat, your eyes scanning the room as if memorizing it. You spent the evening observing the comings and goings and didn’t say much to anyone. I got the impression you were trying to determine if you’d be a good fit here. You seemed rather shy and lonely but I refrained from chatting you up. You ordered a couple of Brian Boru Reds. You have good taste in beer.

The next week you brought a friend, a different one. He was a tall man, and you gave me the vibe of being intimate with him, although there was no hand-holding or kissing, no gentle touches or standing close. It was the way you looked at him, but I didn’t see him respond in the same vein. You stayed an hour and played two games of pool. You tried to get him out to dance, but he refused and kept giving you impatient looks. Finally he stood up and walked out, and you followed. I think I was witnessing the dying gasps of the relationship.

In late January you were back, single again. Over the next couple of months I finally got up the nerve to ask your name and talk to you. The fact that you made me nervous scared the shit out of me because I’ve never been shy with anyone before, and I wasn’t even trying to pick you up. You struck up friendships with several of my regular patrons, and you began coming in more often. You seemed to enjoy the camaraderie, but you never went home with anyone. I’m almost a hundred percent sure you were not part of a couple or you would’ve brought your boyfriend with you. You seemed content, maybe not happy, but you did alright.

Let’s see, in the spring the large, newly-built mall opened up for business in the Valley, bringing an influx of people from out of the area looking for jobs. My business swelled a little; a cute couple in their mid-30s and five singles took up residence, livening up the place. May 6th was the night you met Thaddeus, a manager of a high-end department store, and the two of you were immediately attracted to each other. I saw it at once, the way your eyes lit up when he walked through the door, little nudges and sweet smiles and how he licked his lips like he was going to feast on you. I kept a smile on my face, friendly as always, and tried not to show the hurt I felt.

If you don’t mind my saying, Thaddeus was a bastard. Cruel! An ego the size of Alaska, no respect for you and he treated you like a bitch. I mean, there’s submissive and there’s just wrong. Your life with him was just wrong. I never saw two people so poorly suited for each other. Drama, tears, romantic make-out sessions when you’d get along followed by fights in which Thaddeus all but threw things at you. I wanted to be supportive but I had a hard time showing leniency towards that asshole. He was definitely bringing a very bad karma to my place, and many of the crowd wanted me to toss you both out on your asses. But I felt I had to keep an eye on you for your own good. If this was how he was acting in public, I was scared half to death over what he did to you in private. I never saw any bruises but that doesn’t mean they weren’t there. I was glad when the two of you broke up over the summer.

I think it was at this point that I worked a more determined effort to make you aware of me. I can be very witty, and I’d save my best jokes for you, relishing your laughter. Or I’d do the whole check-out thing on your arrival, hoping I was getting through but not sticking around to find out. Twice I caught a smoldering glance from you and smiled back briefly. I never wanted to make you feel embarrassed, so it was easier to look and release, hoping you got the message. I relied on nonverbal clues, not knowing if they worked. No rushing, no stress.

Oh, I forgot all about Motorcycle Guy. We can’t not talk about him.

Was it late August or early September? I guess it doesn’t matter. You stumbled in to take a seat, and I could tell right away that something was very wrong. You weren’t the friendly, in-control Brian we here at O’Shea’s have come to know and love, but you wouldn’t open up and talk about it. You sat by yourself and refused all offers of company and recreation. You also got hammered- the first time I’d ever seen you drunk, and I was worried. Thank God, I was worried.

Four bikers walked in an hour later. You were already three sheets to the wind, and within a matter of minutes they began eying you. You were so far gone I don’t think you saw them at all. But when you got up to leave the bar at eleven, which by the way was incredibly stupid considering that you’re a cop and know the DUI laws, one of them followed you. I knew he was up to no good. I made a beeline for the door at the same time the cute mid-30s couple realized the danger, and we managed to get to the parking lot in time to see Motorcycle Guy with his hand on your ass, trying to hustle you around the building to the alley. Oh no, nobody is going to hurt my little dude, Brian. We put that guy to rights immediately, and he and his buddies left. You never mentioned it, never seemed uncomfortable, so I have to assume you don’t remember him. I’m glad too because it probably would’ve made it awkward between us.

Since that night, your life has smoothed out and you seem to be okay. One of the guys in here said you moved and got a nice apartment of your own. I heard you might be up for a promotion, meaning a job reassignment to a better division on the police force. Good for you! You follow a strict routine of work and fun, but I think you’re by yourself. I wonder if you’re lonely or if you’re at peace with this stage of your life and plan to work on a relationship later. I’d bet you long for enduring love. Don’t we all?

The calendar has circled around back to October again. It’s been almost a year, and I can’t stand this half-life I’m living. I’m getting older, nearly thirty now, and I’m as lonely as you are. I see you in the bar, and you make my entire being hurt. Feelings I want to share and words I need to say. I guess I must wear my heart on my sleeve because some of my best customers already know of my feelings for you and gently tease me over it. It’s even possible they are steering you in my direction, bless them. I certainly hope you’re catching on to how I feel. It is my deepest wish, tightly anchored to my soul.

Brian, you are so perfect, with such potential, and I know we could make each other very happy. I want to take you in my arms and kiss you and touch your golden skin. I want to thrust against you and into you. I want to take you into my mouth and make your dreams come true. I want to soothe all your hurts and show you a true, committed relationship with a lover who puts your needs first. We would complete each other.

It is Monday, one of the nights you show up here at O’Shea’s without fail and stay a little later because you usually have Tuesdays off. Tonight, for better or worse, I hope to reveal my feelings for you.

****

I am behind the bar. It’s an hour and a half after your normal arrival time, and with every cold draft of wind I feel gusting in with a new customer, I look up, expecting to see you striding in. I’m getting nervous. No, more than that, I’m feeling a little scared. You’re late.

The front door opens for another shivering entrant, and my brain goes into emotional overload. There you stand, dressed in your typical boots, jeans, t-shirt and jacket, your eyes flickering to your favorite table to see if anyone sits there. Unfortunately, with your tardiness, it’s occupied by two new men who began drinking here last week. In fact, the place is fairly well filled up tonight, so you approach the bar and take a seat at the end.

I casually stroll over. “Good evening, Brian. What’ll you have?”

“Hey Shaun,” you answer, not really looking at me. You’re just trying to warm up and relax. “The usual, I think.” The usual is a Sam Adams.

I bring the beer. “You’re late tonight. I was getting worried.”

Your eyes flick up at me, puzzled by my apprehension and wondering what spurs it. “The governor was in town campaigning,” you say. You explain how the security detail took longer than expected. “Why the concern?”

I think about the question. “You’re almost two hours late and it goes with your job, Brian.” I see your hackles begin to rise as you get miffed; you hate it when people act like your youth means you’re inexperienced or careless. I hold up my hand to forestall an argument. “I know you’re well-trained and can take care of yourself.”

You’re still not convinced, but I can sense you’re less defensive.

“We might live in one of the lowest crime rates in the region,” I say, “but shit can come out of nowhere. I have heard enough horror stories from my brother-in-law and cousins; they’re cops too. I know the risks.” I smile easily to disperse any lingering tension. “Let your friends worry about you sometimes.”

Finally, seeing that I meant no disrespect, you smile and raise the bottle. “Thanks.”

I have work to do so I reluctantly go tend bar, keeping my eye on you all the while. The front door bangs open and a new customer brings in a gust of rain showers. That prompts a flurry of people to leave before the storm really moves in, and for once I don’t care how full the bar is or if I lose money. That isn’t important tonight. I am feeling even more nervous now and wondering when I will get the break to ask the question that might open up what I want to discuss. But what if I’m wrong? What if you are dating or aren’t interested in me?

I move down to the other end of the bar to pour whiskey for another patron, saying goodbye to the mid-30s couple as they leave, giving me a thumbs’ up. I grin. Presently, I walk back to you and bring another beer. “On the house,” I tell you.

“Thank you.” You look surprised, but your smile is boyishly sweet.

“So how is life treating you?” I ask, already knowing the answer because I keep my ears open in my place. I’m just trying to extend a conversation here, but my heart is beginning to beat faster.

You open up and talk about your family, including an older sister who is about to get married. Yes, you’re in line for that promotion, and your apartment is larger and closer to work. Your voice is light and friendly with no evidence that you suspect deeper meanings to my queries. There’s no mention of a boyfriend.

“Are you seeing anyone?” I am treading on what could be a slippery slope. This is it, the all-important question. My mouth goes dry, and I feel the faintest pinpricks of sweat in my pits.

Your ice-blue eyes stare into mine, and I can almost see you lining up the clues in your head. “No, not since Thaddeus.” You clear your throat, and I see pain on your face. “He left me a mess to deal with.”

I nod. “Judging from Thaddeus’ reputation, he would be the type to leave a lot of messes for others to clean up.” I clear my throat and try to be casual, but I hate Thaddeus for hurting you. “He didn’t deserve you, Brian.”

You grunt your thanks. I can’t take my eyes off you, and you are staring back, a curious expression on your face. For some reason, your gaze is the more dominant, and I have to look away. I am never the first to break eye contact, but in this case, I am acknowledging the strength inside you that wants to heal and it seems the best thing to do. I know we are both feeling this connection.

I look down, and your forearms are resting on the bar, hands playing with the napkin. I can see a light sprinkling of golden hair peeking out from the long sleeve of your t-shirt. I hesitate, fearing that I might frighten you away. But there’s no better time than now when I’m feeling courageous and you are right here. Holding my breath, I lift a hand and lay it gently on your wrist, fingers curling over your warm skin.

A few seconds pass. I need to breathe, but I can’t get my throat unstuck until I know how you will respond. I’m keeping my eyes down, and through my eyelashes I barely glance up at you, and your cheeks are flushing beautifully. I can’t see your eyes because they are closed, but you have not moved your arm. I take a breath and, encouraged, begin to rub your wrist. Your long, beautiful fingers flex. My cock starts to get hard.

It feels like minutes rushing by but it’s only seconds. You still don’t move, and I continue to stroke your wrist. I curse myself; I don’t know where this shyness is coming from, and I know I have to look at you at some point. I feel your body move and am about to lift my hand, but all you do is shift on the barstool. I am positive that if I could see your crotch, you would be getting hard too. My eyes come up, and yours are dark and hooded, filled with need. You smile at me and turn your arm over to take my hand in yours. My heart thuds in hope. Oh my!

The bar begins to empty out, but some of my customers need refills on their drinks. I am torn because I don’t want to shatter the moment. What’s going on at our end of the room is in full view to all, and I catch quite a few guarded smiles and teasingly raised eyebrows. Jeremy, one of my regulars who has helped me tend bar during special events, gets up and begins to pour beer and mix drinks. He grins at me, and I flash him a look of sheer thanksgiving.

You are perched on the barstool like a statue, face flushed, lips open and trying to draw breath between them. Your eyes look far away. “Since before Thaddeus,” you whisper, explaining when you first noticed me. “But I didn’t think I had a chance with you, and then he came in like a tornado and took over.” You shrug. “You were so kind to me when it got bad. When they,” you toss your head backwards, indicating the other bar patrons, “wanted you to kick me out and you refused.”

I nod and wiggle my hips, fruitlessly trying to loosen my jeans around my crotch. “The first night you came in,” I inform you. “Last Halloween when you were with the little dark dude, the Latino.”

You laugh at the memory. “I was given a special assignment by my captain. Not exactly undercover work, but I was to talk to this guy about a burglary. He was afraid of being seen with street cops. I was kind of new and an unfamiliar face. I chose here without checking it out. Big mistake, but I got the information I needed from him.”

I intertwine my fingers with yours. “You can’t call it a mistake if it brought you here.”

You turn red and laugh, a light musical sound. “True.” You seem to be working up to ask a question. “Is tonight our first date? Sitting in this bar with you three nights a week for the last year, it’s like I’ve known you forever.”

“Same here,” I say. I want to kiss you so bad. I can’t wait to get out of here. “What the night turns into is up to you entirely, Brian.” I look at you and when you understand your eyes become dark and intense again.

“I’m not looking for a one-nighter or short-term, Shaun,” you say softly. You are tugging on my hand, bringing it closer to you as if you could pull me over the bar.

I’m flooded with optimism and suddenly feel light on my feet. “Me neither, but it helps to start slowly.” Your hand feels good, and I look down, at your fingers linked into mine. I walk around the end of the bar so I am in back of you. You lean into me, your head resting on my chest, and it makes my voice go husky. “So what do you know about me, Brian?”

“What?” you ask, and I remind you that you said it’s like you’ve known me forever.

You shrug and blush shyly. “You’re twenty-nine. You own O’Shea’s with your brother who is overseas in Afghanistan. You’re out to everyone, including your family who are supportive. You haven’t been with anyone for at least a year. And you live in an apartment above this place.”

I laugh. “That last is very important to know.” I fold my arm across your shoulders, clasping you close.

You sigh and smile. You are just too fucking cute, and I can’t imagine how I got so lucky to find you. I wish I could hurry the night, but I have an hour until the bar closes. On Mondays, I shut down early but it seems interminable.

But maybe some of the night’s good luck that you have bestowed up me is beginning to rub off in other ways. Luck of the Irish? As I glance around, my patrons are finishing their drinks and shuffling out the door with a wave or thumbs’ up. Jeremy’s cousin yells, “Shaun’s got a hot date.” The remaining customers laugh, we both turn red, and the crowd miraculously thins out. Twenty minutes later, the place is empty except for you. I hurry to lock up and turn out the lights. I take care of the basics and leave the cleaning for morning.

You are beginning to look a little apprehensive, and I wonder if I’ve presumed too much. It’s nearly dark where we are standing, and I can’t read your face. I take your hand in mine. “What are you thinking?”

You don’t say anything for a minute, then you look me full in the face. “When do I get to see your apartment?”

I give you what I hope is a comforting smile but your question is rattling around in my brain. I sense your anticipation. “Do you want to? I don’t want you feeling rushed.”

In answer, you stand up to lean in and kiss me hard. I grab you by your arms and pull you into an embrace. Lips and tongues meet briefly. I’m quickly getting hard again, and as I press against your body, the same thing is happening to you. You stand back with a wicked grin. “Does that answer your question?”

I want you. Upstairs. Now. We rush to the other end of the bar and around back by the bathrooms is a locked door to my private dwelling. I fumble for the keys, and the door takes forever to unlock. I don’t think my feet even touched every stair. We are barely through the door of my apartment when we are in each other’s arms. I don’t bother to turn on lights.

I kiss you firmly on the lips, and your mouth has already opened to accept my tongue and explore my own. You taste good, not just of beer. You begin to groan right away, and our tongues are battling for supremacy and I can only win. I ravish your mouth, sucking, nipping at your bottom lip, taking everything you want to give me and more. I am not into pain but I will dominate you. I feel you go weak in my embrace, and my mind is doing a victory dance because you are here with me. I have dreamed of this moment for almost a year.

I hasten you towards my bedroom with my king-size bed, my lips never leaving yours. Clothes are flying off both of us. You hop up and down removing your boots. My jeans get caught on my ankle and I almost trip. We’re stripped down to boxer shorts, and I push you to the mattress, following behind. I fall into your arms, and we kiss passionately again. I hear you moaning above me, and I feel your hard cock against my thigh.

I am incredibly turned on. My cock is hard too. Both of us are gasping for air, but we’d rather mash our lips together and stick our tongues down each other’s throats. You cup my ass and pull me tighter into you. My hands are going wild on your body, strumming down neck to shoulders to chest. I find your nipple and twist it. You cry out softly and begin to buck against me. I swing slightly to the right so your cock is bumping up against mine, and we’re thrusting our pelvises at each other. The sensation of your cock on mine is mind-blowing. I’m tingling and groaning. It feels so good, but I don’t want to waste time and act like horny teenagers. I move apart from you, breathing raggedly. Already I feel cold where the contact of your body used to be.

You look at me and understand why I rolled. We are laying next to each other on the bed getting back in control. Then we start to laugh at the vision of ourselves. The laughter breaks the tension that has been building since you walked into the bar. Now we can decide how to proceed. We reach out to hug each other and begin kissing again, more sedately now. I cuddle you against me and stroke your stomach. I try to put how much I love you into my touch. You mean everything to me.

We take off our shorts and I pull down the covers. We are lying on my bed, naked, stroking each other. You say you like my cock. I am just average in size, about six inches, circumcised and rather thick. My pubic hair is brown and curly. I thank you and you give me another deep kiss. Your fingers are in my hair, tracing the edge of my ear and along my jaw. They feel good, soft but strong. You kiss my neck and nip at me, and your hands knead my shoulders. You are proving how much you want me too.

My mouth recaptures yours before moving to your earlobe, and I bite it. My hands have been roaming across your skin and stroke the strong muscles of your chest. Like giving a massage, I run the palms of my hands flat against your body, and you groan. I bite into your neck and pinch your nipples. I love your pink nipples on your golden skin. They are so sensitive, and turn puffy, swollen, and bright red when I play with them. I nibble and suck on them, and you groan loudly. I love the noises you make in bed. Getting addicted to you will come easy. You are beautiful.

We have agreed that we want to be fully involved with each other and will take turns instead of tasting each other simultaneously. I give you the option of choosing, and you want to go first. I am glad because you are younger and less experienced. I have had a long day and feeling more tired than usual, and I’m afraid if I climax first I might not have the energy to love on you the way I want to. But my cock is so hard it almost aches. Patience, I tell myself. Concentrate on you.

I settle you on the pillows of my bed and work my way down to your thighs. “Oh, Brian, you are gorgeous.” Close up, I see your cut, fully erect cock is longer than I first imagined, probably seven inches, with a knobby head and distended vein running down the back. Your blonde pubic hair looks soft and lies close to the skin, and your balls are oval and identical, one lower than the other. It’s all I can do not to drool over you.

Before I begin, I run my hands down your body again, and you gasp and wiggle. I kiss your inner thigh, running my teeth gently across the tender skin as I edge toward your cock. Another gasp. Your dick rears when my mouth and hands tease you. Between nibbles of thigh, I occasionally lick your pole, and you are strung out on delight, moaning and twisting. “Don’t torment me,” you plead, your eyes huge. I grin because you are tormented enough to beg.

I use my fingers to pleasure you and get you ready. First I separate your legs to make it easier to reach you. I reach between the golden cheeks of your ass, and you jump. When I touch your puckered hole, your hips buck automatically. You strain your ass towards me, trying to impale it on my finger, and I withdraw a bit out of your reach. I will explore this orifice eventually but not tonight. I begin to play with the hole, fingering in circles around it. “Oh, Shaun, yes,” you beseech me, groaning. Your breathing speeds up and shallows out, and I know if I keep up, you will cum before I even have a chance to taste you.

I don’t want to deny you the pleasure of my mouth so I back off, much to your dismay. I slide the finger up across the perineum, as I hear a sharp intake of breath from you. Your balls lay like small hills in your pubic hair, and they are the next to be conquered. My fingers skim over them in weightless touches, rolling the sac around the orbs, and you groan again. I can see precum dripping from you like a faucet, a string stretching from cock to abdomen, and I shiver with the realization that I can turn you on like this.

It is time. Rising up on an elbow, I kiss your hip bone, and you jump. Pleased with the reaction, my mouth zeros in on the same spot, and I nip your skin with my teeth and suck gently. Your hip tries to buck again but I am holding you down, and I smile. There, you are marked; I have left a tiny red bruise that claims you for myself.

My lips kiss across your hard abs, and my tongue dives into the hollow of your navel. “Unnmm,” you moan. You make the most delicious sounds! My mouth moves south and laps at the precum there, and it is salty-sweet. Yum! You cock is poking my cheek, reminding me of why I’m there. You leave a drop of precum on my skin, and I whisk it off with my finger and lick it. Then I blow hot air on your cock, and you writhe again.

“Brian,” I grunt. “Do you want me to suck you now?”

“Oh please, yes, please Shaun. Suck me.” Your voice is high-pitched, frantic.

I edge nearer and breathe on you again. My tongue dives onto your cock to catch the precum that is about to drop on to your stomach, and you let out this long moan of divine need. I begin to slather around your dusky mushroom head. You are soft and spongy, with the firmness underneath the skin and my mind breaks free into praises that I have you here with me so I can make love to your cock. I use my teeth to gently scrape over the head, and you groan loudly. I can feel the fingers of your hand rubbing my shoulder and neck, and I know it is your little way of showing appreciation.

I take the warm head of your dick into my mouth and moan. You, Brian, are mine, all mine. My lips caress you, coiling around the ridges of your cock, and my tongue licks underneath across the vein. Your thighs jump, and you whimper in your throat. Your fingers tighten on my shoulder, kneading my muscles, and I can feel your desire. I slurp you into my mouth, taking most of your erection, and I begin to dip and rise over it. The more I suck you, the more of your cock I take into my mouth, and the faster I move. You are already in a place of rapture, and your body dances on the sheets, your head thrashing against the pillow while you make pleased sighing sounds deep in your chest. I know what gives you the most pleasure, and my duty, my desire, my need is to bring you to the most intense climax you’ve ever had.

I am bobbing on your cock as fast as I can move, up and down, lips sucking and tongue tap dancing against the length. Your mouth is making sounds I don't understand, whispered partial words that can only come from intense pleasure. My hand rides the shaft in a flurry of vibrations from base to where my mouth has grabbed hold, and I can tell by the undulations of your ass that you are nearing orgasm. Harder you pump into me, and I can’t help but wonder how you would feel inside my own ass. You taste good, you smell good, and your moans are the energy I feed off of. I reach up to grasp one of your pink nipples between finger and thumb, giving it a hard squeeze, and you tense with a forceful “oh”.

Dragging fingers across both nipples now to play with them, I bring you closer to the edge. Your pelvis lifts and drops, forcing your cock into my mouth, and my palate tries to accommodate it before the gag reflux kicks in. I can almost take your whole dick, but not entirely. You are a sweating, rolling ball of need all wrapped up in the most delightful man on the planet. Up and down you writhe beneath me, and I use my other hand, the one not on your chest, to firmly massage your balls in the palm. You nearly come undone, and the end is very close. I love you, Brian.

You say something I understand. “Suck me hard, Shaun, oh shit, oh fuck!” All of a sudden, your cock makes a gentle implosion in my mouth, signaling that you are about to cum, and my lips make a tight seal to slide all the way to the head to draw your semen into me. Your voice is a keening wail of ecstatic anguish, punctuated with moaning "aaahhh"s and "ooohhh"s, and your hips still for a microsecond. Your cum shoots forth in a stream of salty heat. I swallow it, I want more, and your cock obeys my command. You erupt again and again, filling my mouth with your cream, each pulse sent to me by way of your thrusting hips which you no longer have power over.

Your musky scent fuses with sweat and cum, and it sends a signal of heady desire straight to my dick. You have managed to grab hold of my head with your hands and you are squeezing me so hard you will probably leave marks from your fingernails, but I don’t care. This is about your bliss. Your body is out of control, nerves and muscles strain, everything focused on your ejaculations. And then it is over; you are coming back into your own conscious mind and thanking me over and over for making you cum and loving you and not letting you hold back.

I listen as your ragged breathing slows to a normal rhythm, and you shiver when a cooling breeze from the window blows over the drying sweat of your soft skin. You stretch then, a leonine move of strength, joy and satisfaction and flip on your back. Your hand shifts to my rigid member and your fingers begin to stroke it in loving but heated touches, making it rear and buck above my abdomen. I can feel the precum dripping and pooling under the tip. My balls tighten ever so slightly under your light massage, and I groan.

“I want to please you,” your husky voice begs. “Please, Shaun, let me suck on you.”

I grin and act as if I’m about to give in, but first I roll you over on your back and attack your lips again with mine. Yours already have deepened to a lovely red, and I’m nipping at your bottom lip and sliding my tongue inside like a demon. You are so determined to show how much you love me that, when I deny the use of your mouth on me, you enclose my cock with your hand, and you are fisting it, trying to jerk me off. I decide that if you are that desperate, the time has come to let you suck on me. Hard and throbbing, needing release, hot desire courses through me as I give you one last kiss and rake your nipples with my fingers. You shudder. Then I release you to hunker down on the bed next to my hips. Your gaze begs me, and I smile at you.

You give me an innocent, dimpled smile, your pale eyes never leaving my face, and I watch that rosy mouth open to greedily encircle my throbbing erection. Lips, cheeks, tongue trap me inside. “Oh Brian, oh love.”

The minute my cock is enclosed in the velvety wet warmth of your mouth I can tell that I am home. You insist on being a tease, and at first you only wrap your lips around the head of my cock. I am so hard and needing to cum that I’m nearly hissing with urgency, and my back arches towards you. But you insist on gently rubbing the shaft with your hand to hold it in place so your tongue can thrust and parry to your heart’s delight. You are playing with me with your mouth and I smile, knowing the games are heightening my arousal.

And what games! You circle the crown generously, and I won’t deny it feels magnificent. You gently use your teeth and make little nibbling moves down and back up that don’t hurt but find the endings of the nerves all the same, and small pulses center in my balls. A groan flies from my lips. When you attack the edge of the ridge down the back at the juncture of the shaft, that little package of nerve endings packs a wallop that leaves me writhing on the bed and moaning in pleasure. This causes you to moan back, and oh, so not fair that the vibrations echo through my cock and take me to a higher level of bliss.

“Oh God, Brian,” I exclaim in another groan as fevered throbbing radiates from my cock with every stroke of your tongue. “Feels so good.”

I am quivering in expectation, and my body tingles. You certainly know what you’re doing. You have progressed from languorously teasing the head of my dick to sucking up and down the shaft. Going down tip to base, with your talented tongue feathering top, front and back, you then move back up to create a vacuum with your cheeks that pulls more precum from my cock. I can’t even describe the intense pleasure the bobbing is creating, and you are burying your face in my pubic hair. That is so hot!

In fact, I can’t believe you can fit the whole of it in your mouth. Slowly and expertly, you are deep throating me, something that I often can’t do because of my gag reflex, and when you take my ball sac in your hands to gently massage and roll it between your fingers I can’t help but beg for more. Your fingernails are scratching gently on the underside of the sac, and my mind is screaming in delight. “Ohhhhh!” Sweat breaks out all over my body as heat engulfs me, and my hands caress your spiky blond hair. I am reaching the point where I need you to suck on me faster than you can move, and already my groin is setting up its own rhythm to meet this need. Just be there for me, Brian, and hang on for the ride.

The way you are sucking my cock is heavenly. I can feel the head lying in your throat, and those muscles are grasping and releasing every time I thrust into your mouth. I concentrate on a vision of the two of us as if staring down from above, with your open mouth sliding over and around me, sucking me hard, and it is so erotic I can hardly stand it. The crescendo is building; your mouth feels like wet silk, your tongue like a snake that writhes and slithers against me. My entire body is in motion, hips thrusting back and forth to fuck your magnificent mouth, hands grasping and releasing the sheets or holding your blonde head in place, feet and toes flexing in absolute pleasure. My lungs need air. I am groaning endlessly because any other sound wouldn’t make sense, even to me.

One short, labored breath, I am so close to the edge that I don’t know how I’ll be able to stand it another moment; the second, I feel my balls tighten and draw up inside me. My cock surges, and you must have felt it because now you are slurping on me so hard. “Brian…” I roar in ecstasy; tipping, tipping and then falling, as hot sperm shoots from the base of my penis into your mouth.

My back jackknifes under the intense convulsions, and it’s like every tendon inside me is caught in a paralytic rigidity. Waves of pleasure radiate outwards to engulf my whole body. Five times I unload inside your mouth, powerfully expelling my seed inside your waiting warmth, each emission smaller and weaker. You swallow all of it, and I can feel my cock starting to soften as my taut muscles finally relax. I smile up at you in gratitude and love. “Oh Brian,” I exclaim. “I haven’t cum that hard in years.”

Spent, we relax in the glow of our orgasms. I crawl back up the bed to lie down next to you and begin to play absently with your cock. I run my fingernails down it and you gasp. I’m not trying to arouse you again; it’s just that I love your elegant body so much and the way you respond to me is an aphrodisiac. I reluctantly choose to stop the teasing before I give you an erection because I don’t have the strength left to do anything about it. I feel tired and peaceful.

You are facing me, blushing again, so cute in your embarrassment. Your eyes are dark and unreadable. “Do… do you want to fuck me, Shaun? Or for me to fuck you? Because if you want to, I w-will.” The hope on your face is mingled with anxiety, and you are actually shaking. Your reaction makes a lie of your words, but I know the reason for your fear. I am not Thaddeus, Brian, and I will spend the rest of my life proving it.

I tenderly brush your hair with my hand. “No, Brian, not tonight.” I soothe the firmness of my decision with kisses and touches to ensure that you don’t feel rejected. Sure, fucking is a bodily function that any two people can do. But I want it to be more for us. I want the emotional connection that two people deeply in love share, and love also brings a higher level of pleasure and relies on trust. Trust takes time to build. I want you to trust me so much that any lingering fear of Thaddeus is totally eradicated from your mind.

You seem to understand. In fact, you seem to be relieved, and you lean over to give me a long kiss. I bat at you because it’s time to sleep, not play. You move to the center of the bed and rest your head against the pillow, lying on your side, all quiet and tired. I lie down behind you, covering us with the quilt and snake my arm under yours and across your torso to cuddle into you. I can feel you grin, and I give you one single nip on your neck before stroking your stomach to calm and quiet you.

It feels good to be sharing my bed with you for the first time. My hips and thighs cradle your ass, and I absently wonder how many times one of us will wake up before morning, wanting to touch and suckle on each other. It brings a smile to my face that you can’t see, and I gently brush my fingers across your hard abs again. I listen as your breathing deepens and you fall asleep. That sounds like a wonderful idea, and finally I begin to drift off too, completely content. I love you, Brian. You are mine.

(To be continued...)