Here’s Looking at You, Kid

an accidental romance in fifteen parts

by Douglas

Chapter 6 - Hunger

We didn’t stay ridiculously-clothed, and ridiculously-covered-with-blankets, for long.

As we made out, me pressing down so deliciously HARD on Cole’s smaller body like that, I felt Cole’s hands moving down to my waist, grabbing my t-shirt, pulling it up my back –

When my shirt was off, I peeled Cole.

I pulled the blankets off of him like I was peeling a banana; not just part way down, but down to the foot of the bed, and off, tossing them into the corner.

Leaving a nude Cole, totally bare below me, grinning wide, and warm and hard again and comfortable, his body flesh and tan against the white of the bottom sheet . . .

I looked at him, for a few seconds. Just looked.

I know, it sounds weird. But – I hadn’t really been able to look at Cole, before; naked, like, this, I mean.

Oh, I’d tasted him; sure. And touched him, and made out with him, and COME with him –

But I’d never really had the chance to just, look at him. Not at the pool party – first in the darkness, then in front of all those people. And not at Bad Boy Beach, in the bushes and twilight, and the danger.

Looking is good.

He was even more beautiful – more graceful, HOTTER – than I’d thought.

And he read my expression, of course, the little brat, and that made him grin wider, and move a little, under my eyes; enjoying himself, so clearly –

And that expression changed, as I frantically stripped off the rest of my clothes – because I really, really wanted to feel his whole, bare, body against MY bare body – and my underpants came off, and I saw his eyes just get – big, as he looked at me, down there . . .

And then we were down. On my bed; together. Pressing together. Warm skin against warm skin . . .

First, we were too close to kiss, too wrapped up in each other, sliding against each other so HARD, my dick rubbing against him, driving me crazy –

And it was like before, like it was at the pool party, in the alcove. I couldn’t get enough of him, of TOUCHING him, it was like I wanted INSIDE him –

Well, of course I wanted inside him. That other way. But this – this was different, a really basic, primal need to just, press so CLOSE –

“Mmmmmphhh . . . ” went Cole, into my neck, and he nuzzled my neck, and where my neck met my shoulder, and I felt his legs come up and try to wrap around my thighs –

“Wait,” I gasped. Into his hair, basically. His soft, clean boy’s hair, that smelled of shampoo, again, that smelled like Cole . . .

“Hmmmph - ?”

I pushed myself up on my arms a little; so that my chest was off him, and I was looking down at him again. And I moved my face down and kissed him, and tasted his mouth, and it was so SLICK and so wonderful, and I felt his legs tighten and pull us close together, down there –

“Wait,” I whispered, again; and this time, I went up on my hands and knees, over Cole, looking down at him, at the wet spots above his pubes where I’d leaked all over him –

“What?!” he gasped.

“Shhhh . . . ” I went back to looking at his body, looking at HIM, under me, looking him up, and down –

Okay. Here’s the thing.

What Cole and I had done with each other, up ‘til now . . . well. It was pretty spectacular, both times; explosive, maybe, even.

Unplanned. Uncontrolled.

And that’s – good. Of course; really, REALLY good. If you’ve never experienced the kind of helpless, out-of-control physical collision we’d had, those times . . . well. You’ve missed something.

But.

Like I’ve said before – I’ve always been . . . sexual. Very sexual.

This was our first time alone, Cole and me. Well – the first time we KNEW we were alone.

On a bed. Or at least, on a bed, without an audience.

I wanted . . . I wanted it to be more than just an explosion. I wanted to start EXPLORING sex; with Cole. I wanted to explore COLE.

Oh, sure. I wanted, I so, so wanted to fuck Cole. Right then; right there.

But there’s fucking, and fucking. What I really wanted to do was to fuck Cole’s MIND. In the good way, the way I like to get fucked, too.

And the way I’d just emotionally turned – the wave of feelings I’d just started to have – I think I wanted to fuck Cole’s soul, too.

“What - ?” he whispered, a second time, squinching his eyes.

“Nothing.” I bent down, and tasted his mouth, again. “Nothing.” Another, longer, taste. “Just – I want to, like, perv on you. For a minute. Okay?”

The squinchy-eyed look smoothed out; and slowly transformed into a grin. A knowing grin.

“Let me do this?” I looked at him.

He wriggled a little, underneath me, still grinning, settling down into the pillow. “Okay. For a minute, anyway.”

Still perched on all fours over him, like that – I just went on looking; for a minute.

A long minute. His face; his shoulders, his beautiful, smooth, boyish chest – with those brown nipples, that I remembered from Aquatic Park – and then back up to his eyes, again, and it was almost shockingly intimate, looking into his eyes, and we looked at each other for a LONG time, and as we did, he went still underneath me, and stopped smirking –

And then I started in.

Still not touching, really; except when my dick sort of wobbled down, and the tip grazed his lower stomach, and then I’d clench and it would come back up –

Anyway.

Mostly not touching – I lowered my face, and kissed him, just lightly, on his upper neck. Below his chin; on the side. With just a quick hint of tongue.

Then I backed off, and looked him in the eyes, again; for one beat, two beats . . .

And I kissed him again, in the same place; for just a little longer, this time.

And this time, I felt him shiver, under my lips.

So I did it again. Gently; and he made a noise that made me smile, and my tongue was tasting his skin. And as my aching cock bobbed up and down in the air, dotting him with my precum where it hit him . . .

I moved lower.

I used my mouth to slime my way down his chest, gently, slowly, carefully, coming up every once in awhile to look into his eyes, again, because this was all about HIM, it was all about fucking his MIND . . . then back down, again –

And I did his nipples really well; if I do say so, myself. Both of them. Slowly; thorough, and wet, with enough time off of them for him to feel the cool air over the wet skin, and he was shivering a lot, now, involuntarily, one wave after another, shuddering underneath me –

“Fuuuuuccckk . . . ” he moaned. He started to arch his back. “Jeremy – ”

“Shhhh.” Back up to his eyes, his lips, his mouth – for a long, deep, thorough tonguing – then looking in his eyes, again. “Just a little more.”

And as I looked down at his expression – almost pleading, mouth open, so clearly NEEDY – I had to keep myself from grinning. Part of me was thinking, serves the little brat right, for surprising me like this . . .

But most of me was thinking about fucking Cole.

So I moved lower, down towards Cole’s groin, down his stomach, still sliming my way, wet, slow, and Cole was making noises now – and they didn’t sound like voluntary ones – and I got to the place where his right leg met his trunk and I really nuzzled INTO him there, I licked, and I tongued, and I nuzzled, and I licked again – and I could feel and smell his scrotum, so warm, against my cheek –

I hadn’t really smelled Cole’s groin – his pubic area – before. The first time, we were right out of the pool, all smelling of chlorine; and the second time we were standing up . . .

And I switched, making a point of breathing, just for a second, on his scrotum; I switched, and began sliming and nuzzling where his left leg met his crotch, sliming him wet and slow, and Cole was moving more and more underneath me –

And I couldn’t stand it, I couldn’t stand waiting anymore, so I went lower; I mean, down, low, under him, between his cheeks, into that wonderful, warm center of him, that part of that I CRAVED, so much –

And Cole opened himself for me; with a gasp.

His legs opened wide, and his knees came up, and then his hands were pulling his legs up – he was OPENING himself to me, he was trying to get me in even deeper –

Rimming Cole at the pool party – had been incredible. Indescribable. Incandescent.

But I’d barely met him, then.

This – was so, so different. It was like the pool party, raised to a higher power. The amazing intimacy of it . . . the feelings I had for him, now . . . the EXCITEMENT –

And I wanted still more, I wanted deeper, so I pushed him back on his shoulders, and I pulled his lower body up, his wide-open, beautiful butt up in the air – very much like his position in the jpg he’d given me; the jpg that’d made me blow all over myself, last night – and I held his waist as he kept his thighs pulled back, and I looked down between his legs, over his scrotum and his cock, at his face . . .

Into his eyes, again. That shock of intimacy, again.

And then, slowly, slowly, deliberately, I slimed him down there, on and around and in his smooth anus; as wet as I could, mouth, tongue –

“Nnnnnnnghh - !” from Cole; and his body quivered in my hands, and I felt his anal muscles contracting, involuntarily, under my tongue –

So I did it again. Slow; deep, wet, with the sound of Cole’s panting as a background –

“Nnnnnnn – Wait!” It came out as a hiss.

“What - ?”, I whispered. Then – “Oh.”

His balls had pulled up tight to his body. He’d been REALLY close to coming . . .

“Just – wait, a second . . . ”

The only sound in the room was his panting, then; and my heart beating. I thought.

And I couldn’t really wait – not with Cole below me, in that position – so after a second or so, I nuzzled him, nuzzled into his butt, just a little, wetly, and he gasped, again, and one hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist –

“You do that again,” he whispered, “and I’m gonna cum.” He let his other leg go, and I reluctantly lowered him down, and then he was up and wrapping an arm around my neck and kissing me fiercely, deeply, his tongue in my sloppy mouth, slick and wriggling and alive. And then he pulled back, a little.

“Fuck me!” And his arm pulled me in again, for another deep/wet kiss.

He didn’t have to say it twice.

Things got a little blurry, after that.

There was a certain amount of fumbling for the lube – I keep it in the little built-in cubbyhole, at the head of the bed, but I had to reach over Cole to get it, and as I was reaching, he did something wonderful to my swollen dick and my aching balls and I made a really loud noise, and he had to shush me . . . laughing silently about it, the little brat –

And then there was the squeezing-out-the-lube part, with some going on my fingers, and some going directly INTO Cole, down there, which made him gasp, and move his butt back against the nozzle, in a kind of move that made my hard dick twitch up and down –

And then I was holding him, so tight, his body so smooth and nude against mine, side by side, facing each other, his leg up over my waist, my tongue and lips on his upper chest as I penetrated him with my finger, feeling him so SLICK down there, as I went deeper into him than I ever had before, and the way he was moaning, and the way he was moving in my arms, against my hand, told me how totally excited he was, how much he was enjoying it, the whole thing, the sensations, how much he LOVED this anal play, how utterly, mind-blowingly WONDERFUL this was going to be, for him, for me, for both of us –

And I had to get deeper into him, I had to get more fingers into him, so I sort of lunged south on the bed, turning around, and I felt his breath on my scrotum, and then the flash of wet on my balls as he licked them, and I inserted my index finger to go with my middle finger, carefully, carefully, and the sound of his moaning went up a pitch, and I felt his anal muscles squeeze against my fingers, as I moved them inside Cole, gently, wonderingly . . .

“Relax,” I whispered. Probe; massage; probe. “Relax . . . ” I licked his balls, too, like he was doing mine; then, “Relax . . . ”

He was tight. Really tight.

Probe; wriggle, a little, moving my fingers around, but always in and out, soothingly; a little deeper, once, and then out; a little deeper, again, a moment later, and I began feeling around with my fingertips, deep, feeling for his prostate, that place I knew would give him the most pleasure . . . and it was so unreal, so unbelievably EXCITING to be doing this, to KNOW what was going to happen, to KNOW that I was going to fuck him . . . and I probed, deeper, with my fingertips –

“Mmmmppphhhh . . . !” went the mouth on my balls, and the feeling of it made my own body jerk, and I was right on the edge, and now it was my turn –

“Wait!” I gasped.

I froze, for a second; and I felt his mouth come off my scrotum. He didn’t even have to ask. “Okay”, he breathed. The still moment ticked on, for a few seconds; a few breaths, the beating of our hearts. Then: “Fuck me!”

Oooofta.

I was so, so close – just doing this, to Cole, with Cole, INSIDE Cole, with my fingers – I was so, so close. To coming; to orgasm.

But he was still so tight.

“Relax,” I went, again, and pushed, gently, with my two slippery fingers, deeper, gently, deeper . . . “Relax . . . ”

So tight.

I tried. I really, really tried.

I was gentle; gentle as I knew how to be, and I kept whispering to Cole, trying to get him to relax, more, to get him to relax enough for me to get a third finger into him, get him prepared for me . . .

And Cole, bless him – he tried, too. I could FEEL him, trying to relax; I could feel and hear him, doing deep breathing, twisting a little, in my arms, around my fingers – then some short, quick puffing, as he exhaled . . . all the things to do, when you’re really, really trying to relax your body . . . relax yourself, down there; relax your anus . . . If you’ve ever been fucked, you know what I mean.

He REALLY tried.

Okay. Here’s the thing.

I already said, I’m not going to give you – my dimensions, down there. Measurements. Of my endowment, I mean. Dick, or balls.

I will admit this much, though.

It’s not so much that I’m unusually long, grotesquely long, anyway . . . as much as, I’m thick.

Really, pretty thick. A lot of volume.

It’s not easy, to take me.

Jesse got to the point where he could . . . when he wanted. But even with him – it took some time, when we were new to each other. A lot of trial-and-error, over the weeks, with some frustrating times when he just said no; because he really couldn’t do it.

And Jesse was full-grown, and basically my size. I’m six feet; Cole’s at least three inches shorter, and slender, maybe three quarters of my body mass . . .

“Okay,” I whispered, after awhile. Laying my head down on his inner thigh; slowing my fingering down. “Wait . . . ”

“What?”, from Cole, in a hiss.

I didn’t know what to say, for a second. Then: “Cole . . . you haven’t done this for awhile, have you?”

He didn’t say anything, for a second; just waggled my drooling cock a little bit, in front of his face. I raised my head up, and looked down, in time to see his tongue flash out and lick a drop of precum from the end of it, and I whimpered.

“I don’t care. You promised to fuck me!” It came as a fierce whisper –

But for the first time – in the tone, and the pause before he said it – I could hear doubt.

Another, longer, pause; me still moving my fingers inside him, still probing, still massaging, to the rhythm of his short gasps, and his twitching around my fingers –

“Cole. Baby . . . ”

It was the first time I’d ever called him that.

“You’re . . . just a little too tight. Today.” I whispered into his groin, as I probed, and massaged . . . “It’d hurt you too much. Just today.”

“I want you to fuck me!”

It didn’t come out as a demand; or an argument. It was kind of mournful.

I licked his balls, carefully, thoroughly, then licked my way down to his perineum; the smooth place between his anus and his balls, bulging, now, with his erection. Then back up for air, for a second.

“I will, baby. But for right now – I have another idea,” I whispered.

My idea was to get him off – anally. With my fingers inside him. Giving him as much anal pleasure as I knew how to give . . .

It wasn’t me being unselfish.

Giving anal pleasure to someone . . . to someone I cared about . . . with my tongue, or my dick, or my fingers – to make them COME . . .

It’s my ultimate desire. My turnon; my fantasy, and it inhabits my head at night when I jerk off before going to sleep, and it must be in my dreams, because I always jerk off when I wake up, too . . . about the same thing.

Oh, given a preference – of course it’s about fucking. Me being the top; in endless variations, endless sequences. HOLDING someone in my arms, me inside him, FEELING it as I spurted out semen inside him, inside his butt –

I like getting fucked; a lot. But I don’t dream about it.

I dream about fucking. And fingering. And rimming.

If I couldn’t fuck Cole – yet – I could at least get him off; anally. I couldn’t think of much else that would be hotter.

So we did it.

It didn’t take long; he was ready.

With my head still pillowed on his thigh, my fingers still in him – still twisting, gently, still probing, still massaging – I moved up and licked his soft, warm scrotum; once, twice, and he made sounds, again.

Then I started stroking his perineum with my free thumb, as best I could, as I moved my fingers.

More sounds. More urgent sounds. Higher-pitched sounds.

“Baby . . . just lie still for a second, okay?” I whispered. “Let me try this . . . I want to make you come.”

“Uuuuhhhh,” he whispered/moaned, with one breath; “huuuhhhhhhhh . . . . ”, with another breath.

I pushed myself away, just a little, to let my other hand get between us, and wrap gently around his cock – and it was hard, in spite of my being in his anus like that, and as I stroked, gently, it got even harder, more rigid, and the skin on his cock was so, so soft, and beautiful, just like the rest of him –

So I craned my head down, and licked it, slowly, slowly, from the head, down the underside of the shaft, ending at the balls, and Cole MOVED himself against my fingers, he so totally just fucked himself against my two fingers, and I heard the whimper – and so I licked, again, slower this time, wetter, pressing harder with my tongue –

I was massaging his prostate with my fingers directly now, gently, deliberately, and he was moving his pelvis against me, in spasms, and I could see his balls beginning to draw up close to his body, and I really, really WANTED to taste him, and his whimpers were coming in time with his panting –

I squirmed down the bed a little, frantic, and I sort-of rolled him over on his back, and half-lying on his stomach I took him in my mouth – no delicacy about it, no preliminaries, my mouth as wet as I could make, my lips and tongue sliding down his shaft as he JERKED underneath me, and I managed to keep massaging him deep inside, and he JERKED some more, and his whimpers turned into one, long, climbing “nnnnnnnnnnnnnnNNNNNNNNNN – GGGHHHHHHH . . . .. !” –

And I FELT it, I TASTED it as his beautiful penis, so warm, so alive, spasmed and jerked and the semen came out of it, onto my tongue, and I kept probing, massaging my fingers inside his butt, and he kept jerking and spasming, and I couldn’t tell if he was shooting any more, but my mouth was full of his cum, and I hadn’t tasted any cum in so, so, so long, and it was COLE’s semen . . .

I kept on sucking him, sucking on his beautiful penis, longer than I should have. Past the point where he was spasming; past the point where it must have been at all comfortable for him.

I couldn’t help it.

Finally, one of his hands came down, and just – rested, gently, on my head, and I stopped, on a downstroke, as I listened to his panting. Tasting the cum in my mouth; smelling his groin, so strongly.

“Ooooooohhhhhh . . . ” came his voice. Between pants. Softly. Whisper-in-the-dark softly. “Ooooooohhhhhhh . . . ”

I slowly, slowly pulled my mouth up his dick – still between my lips, still wet, with my saliva and his cum – until it squeezed out, gently. And I rolled his semen around in my mouth, a little, tasting it, thoroughly, savoring it, before I swallowed it. Slowly. Reluctantly.

I licked his dick a little more, like I would a popsicle – just to make sure I got all the traces.

More breathing; more moments. We were both breathing easier, now.

My fingers were still in him. Still, now; he’d clenched me so, so hard, when he came.

“I’m gonna pull out now; okay?” I whispered.

“Okay . . . ”

And I did. Slowly; gently. First one finger; carefully, carefully, gently, moving slow; then the other, taking a little longer with this one, because I knew how it felt . . . and when my fingertip left him, I could hear him groan, at the weird sensation of his anus closing up again, and I rubbed my fingertip over his anus, gently, just to make it feel better, but also to, I don’t know, show I was still there, I guess . . .

We lay still, for just a moment.

Before I felt his head go into my crotch; his warm breath, on my balls.

I was still hard; my balls hurt, I was so hard.

“I gotta get you off,” he breathed, into my naked groin. One hand came around the back of my thigh, and I felt his face go deep into my crotch, and my genitals press up against his face – and then I felt his tongue flash out, wet –

I was way too far gone, for finesse. For wanting to do anything more – complicated. Way, WAY too far gone.

One of my hands went down to my shaft; all I wanted to do was spurt, right now, it was all I could do. “L-l-l-lick my balls?” I squeaked out. It was a plea.

And he did. At least as well as I’d done him.

And that – that put me over the edge. The warm; the wet tongue; the feel of his smooth face, rubbing against my sensitive inner thigh, so ALIVE, so rhythmic, as he licked, and paused, and I stroked once, and he licked again, and I stroked again, and he paused, and licked . . .

“EeeeerrrrrrGGGHHHHHHHHH – ”

It was a frantic, frantic come, and I spewed all over him, all over his smooth front, and it was impressive because it went on, and on, and on, and ON, long after I thought I would have stopped – I didn’t count the spasms, but I know it kept going on, and on, maybe because Cole kept licking my balls, in the same rhythm, and licking, and licking, as I came . . . .

I think I was only semi-conscious, after.

I know we were in each other’s arms; head to head, I mean. Holding; kissing, if you can call it that – it was so much more, tongues in each other, tasting each other; me smelling my own groin on his face, him tasting his own cum in my mouth. Me not being able to get enough of him, enough of his mouth, enough of his tongue in my mouth . . .

And it was the HOLDING, at least as much as the kissing. Holding each other; warm, alive, moving in each other’s arms. Warm; smooth. Together. Listening to our breathing . . .

I won’t pretend it was a perfect moment. We were both wet, and sticky, and my wet come was getting cold on my skin, and on Cole’s skin . . .

And my emotions, my own feelings – were still a little jumbled.

Okay, a lot jumbled. I’d gone through a big swing, in a really short time. From stupidly, stupidly almost-talking myself into dumping Cole – (and looking back, such a short time – it seemed so PATHETIC to me, so selfish, so ludicrous, that I’d panicked like that . . . and it made me feel so ashamed . . . )

To, this. This moment. This realization.

So my emotions were maybe, just a little sore. Like my balls. In a good way, sore. But – sore. Jangled.

And of course, I didn’t really know what Cole was feeling, for me. About me. What I meant to him. At that moment.

Oh, I knew he had . . . feelings for me. That was clear. I KNEW that much. But . . .

None of it mattered, really, though. Right at that time; right at that moment, with the glow through the window getting more golden, more red, as we held each other, warm bare skin to warm bare skin, in my bed.

Maybe it wasn’t perfect. But it was sublime.

*

No Moment lasts forever. Even a quasi-perfect Moment.

“rrrrruuuummmmble – ”, from my stomach.

“Hmmmph - ?” from Cole. Sleepily; his head on my shoulder, cradled in my arm. One leg thrown over me, warm on top of me.

I didn’t say anything; and the silence, and the closeness, crept back. We could dimly hear voices, coming and going from the courtyard below, and they made the quiet more comfortable.

“rrrrrrrRRRRRruuummmmmmble – ”

“Oh, no,” from Cole, and I felt a little puff of laughter, against my neck; then a quick nuzzle, and kiss. “I think somebody’s getting hungry - ?” His arm, around my neck, squeezed.

“Well,” I said, and I kissed his forehead, and stopped. Really not wanting to move. Not wanting to stop holding him. As the seconds ticked on, and on, warm and soft.

“rrrrrrrrrrrruuuuuuuuuuMMMMMMMmmmble . . . , ” from my traitor stomach, and Cole pressed his mouth into the side of my neck, to stifle his laughter.

Okay.

So I’m the son of a long line of Norwegian immigrants . . . generations of Norwegian farm boys. And so what, if I’ve got the inherited appetite, to show for it?

And, so, if I’ve always gotten teased, about my appetite? About how I’m always hungry? I mean, Derrick can tease me all he wants, but at least I eat WELL, I eat fairly healthy food . . . healthier than he does, anyway . . . .

“rrrrrrrrrrrrruuuuuuuuummmmmmbbbbbbbblllllle – ”

“Sorry,” I whispered, after.

Another puff of laughter, against my neck. “Don’t apologize – I think it’s cute . . . ”

The romance of peristalsis.

“We probably should get something to eat,” he said, softly. After a pause. Nuzzling against me.

“Right . . . ”

Truth to tell – I WAS starving.

*

First, though – we had to clean up.

Which meant – running the gauntlet. To the showers; we were way, way too messy to get by without a shower. The lube, and the cum, and his butt and my fingers –

Everything has a price.

*   *   *

 “Hey, Jeremy!”

“Oh . . . hi.”

Me and Cole, heading down the hall towards the showers. Cole, grinning, stumbling along in my spare, wash-day bathrobe, and a pair of my flip-flops.

Which were way, way big for him.

“Fuck!” he went, good-naturedly, as he walked out of the sandals again. I waited for him to get them back on his feet . . .

“Yo, dude,” from Kevin, one of our next-door neighbors. I saw him do a doubletake, and look back at Cole really, really intently, for a second before moving on . . .

Weekends in our dorm are usually – quiet. Slow; people go home for weekends, if they don’t live too far away. That’s why I like them.

Tonight was like a convention.

“Jeremy! Did you get my message?” Mark came bouncing up in his usual, Mark-The-Goofy-Dog way; his face all happy and excited. “You coming tonight?”

“Uhhhh, sorry – I haven’t really been checking - ?” I began. We stopped.

“It’s the movie thing tonight; in the lounge, downstairs. The ‘Rocky Horror Picture Show’. It’s like, so old, and so funny, on so many levels. Are you and Derrick coming - ?” And his eyes finally wandered over to Cole, and widened, some.

“Hi, I’m Cole,” said the little brat, happily, and he stuck out his hand.

“Oh – hey. Mark.” And his expression was a little weird, again, as they shook.

It was actually kind of sweet, that Mark was excited, and wanted us there.

See – Derrick and I were sort of, basically, out to our friends. And – well, we were basically out to the whole floor; it wasn’t any kind of secret.

Oh, out in a vague kind of way; nobody knew our whole history, or anything, and the acknowledgment was really low-key, on all sides –

And it was unbelievably liberating, for me.

Just the sheer LUXURY of being open, of being able to joke about it, with your friends – of having nice, cool people like Mark, and Kevin, and Matt and Giovanni and Michelle still being FRIENDS, still doing stuff together –

Anyway.

If was fun that Mark was excited, because he’d been raised in a fundamentalist Christian family, and went to a fundy Christian high school –

But Mark didn’t have a mean bone in his body, and Derrick and me were his First, Real Live Ho-mo-sexuals, and he was always so happily, non-judgmentally accepting of us –

I wavered. The Rocky Horror Picture Show would be good for Mark. On principle.

“Uhhhh . . . maybe! Yeah, well, we’ll see.” I made an awkward movement. “Sorry, I should have checked my messages . . . ”

“That’s okay!” Another odd look from Mark. At me; and at Cole. “It’s at eight . . . if you can make it.”

“Cool. Eight.” And I grinned at him, and we bumped knuckles . . .

“We could go,” went Cole, as he stumbled along again. “Although I’d rather you fucked me in your room – ”

“Shhh - !” I didn’t dare look around.

“What, was I being loud?” He was grinning, as he shuffled along awkwardly.

“Yes. Brat.” I nodded quickly at Brent, another guy I knew, and I tried to look friendly, but also to look like I didn’t really want to stop and talk to him . . . “You are enjoying this WAY too much. You know that, don’t you?”

“Sure.” He said it smugly. “It’s fun. Did you know, you’re blushing? Really, really red.”

My Norwegian ancestry coming to my rescue. Again.

“Fuck!”, from Cole, as he stumbled out of my flip-flops. For the third or fourth time. “Well, this is obviously not going to work,” he went, cheerfully, and he bent down to pick up the sandals – almost exposing himself to the whole floor, in the process –

And just over his back, in the distance, I saw Rajiv the RA. Fixing us – fixing ME – in his all-seeing gaze. Intently.

And it was one of those split-second things; both of us, looking at each other, KNOWING that he was, well, narcing me –

I swallowed.

“C’mon,” I said to Cole, and we pushed our way through the two doors into the shower room.

I didn’t know Rajiv that well. I’d never had reason to; all last year, or for the few weeks of this year.

Oh, I knew that he was from Mumbai, although he insisted on calling it Bombay; and that he was a grad student in physics, and was brilliant, and that he was a rock climber – wherever he was, he always had some kind of hand-strengthener device going, because that’s what you need, in rock climbing; this year so far, it was a kind of stiff rubber ball that went ‘ka-CHOK, ka-CHOK, ka-CHOK’, as he flexed it, endlessly . . .

He was a narc.

Oh, not in the bad way, the really oppressive way, I guess. He was friendly enough, and easy enough, and he let me and Derrick alone . . . neither one of us is exactly a troublemaker. It’s just – from what I heard, he knew just about everything that went on, on our floor; which is what he was supposed to do, after all, and why he was getting the free housing. And anytime there was alcohol, or marijuana being passed around in somebody’s room, just a little too openly . . .

Like I said. He knew everything. Just the way Mr. Diaz, the Assistant Vice Principal In Charge of Leaning On Boys, had known everything, back at my old high school.

And what I was doing with Cole – had just done with Cole – was just a little bit more illegal than underage drinking.

The shower room on my floor is pretty long, sinks and mirrors on one side, shower stalls to the left, and – you can tell – it was empty as we clomped in, the tiles echoing my sandals. I let Cole go for the nearest stall, and I went for the one next to it –

Cole’s hand grabbed my wrist, and he pulled me into his stall, and I started to squawk, just as I could hear the outer door open, and so I stopped, and I turned and shut and bolted the stall door, in a hurry –

I should explain. About the stalls.

The shower stalls in my dorm, anyway, are kind of like a typical bathroom stall; metal partitions and doors, starting about a foot off the ground, going up to, well, over my head, anyway. You undress and hang your towel and stuff in the outer section, and the shower is in the back, in a kind of tiled alcove behind a shower curtain . . .

So it’s kind of private. Quasi-private. Except for the bottom; except for where your feet show. The shower curtain doesn’t go down that far, either. It’s how you tell if a stall’s open, being used, or not.

Which means – people look.

People could tell, if there’s more than one person in a stall. Some floors actually have coed shower rooms; looking, down there, checking for Double Occupancy, is a VERY popular pastime.

And Cole didn’t know that.

“Cole - !” I started to whisper, frantically –

He made a shushing gesture, and still grinning, he shucked his robe – and don’t think THAT didn’t start the usual physical response, in me – and moved, fast, behind the curtain, into the shower area . . .

Outside, the sound of a sink running, water, splashing; eventually, spitting noises, of someone brushing his teeth. I stood there, a second, waiting for him to go away; nothing happened. Probably putting on zit cream, or playing with his hair . . .

Cole made a come-here gesture, smirking now, really, and I didn’t know what to do, so I got out of my robe and sandals, fast, and joined him in the shower part – then I had to get out again, to get the soap and shampoo, and Cole, the little brat, started up the water, even though anybody who was looking could tell I wasn’t back there –

I could hear the inner door close again, finally, even over the sound of the spray – it closes with a thud, every time – and I relaxed a little. I was back beside him in a second, under the water. “Cole!” I hissed it out. I pointed at the gap, under the partition.

“C’mere,” he went, and then, naked and wet, he was in my arms, getting ME wet, pulling me into the spray, and I knew I should have left when I had the chance, gone to another stall, but he felt so, so good, up against me like that . . .

Naked and wet together. In almost-public.

Well; at least we were consistent.

‘Thud’, went the inner door, as it closed again; and we froze, for a second. And Cole, quick as a flash, was sitting on the little ledge at the very back of the shower stall, feet up off the floor, knees up around his shoulders, grinning up at me.

Slow footsteps, from outside the stall. I took my soap, and started washing myself; trying to act normal, trying to make normal showering-sounds.

And Cole slowly and carefully reached out a bare foot – and somehow, I didn’t move away – and his foot gently went into my groin, and between my legs, and then a little higher, and then he was stroking my dick with the soft sole of his foot, pressing my dick between my belly and his foot – trying to keep his balance on the little ledge, at the same time, and rubbing me, and I was sort of leaning into him . . . it was so weird, and stupid of me to let him do it, but it was also so EXCITING –

‘Ka-CHOK. Ka-CHOK.’  A pause, and another couple of footsteps. ‘Ka-CHOK.’

I reached out and caught his foot, and we froze, like that. He saw the expression on my face, and his grin faded.

More footsteps; moving slowly along the row of stalls; pausing, and then slowly moving back. ‘Ka-CHOK.’

And then, the sound of a sink being used, hands being washed, leisurely, thoroughly. The sound of the electric hand dryer, blotting out most everything; and eventually, finally, at last, the final ‘Thud’ of the inner door closing.

We listened, over the sound of the water, for a long time; second after second after second, and nothing, until finally, I peeked down under the shower partition and did a quick scan, looking for telltale feet.

Nothing.

I made a sign, and Cole came off of his ledge, fast, looking worried. “What - ?”

“Shhhh.” I put a finger over his lips; then I bent down, and kissed him – really well, too – and pulled back, to whisper into his ear. “I’ll explain it later. Let’s make this fast; and we can save the rest for tonight. Okay?” He nodded, and his hand came out to stroke my bare side reassuringly.

But my cock didn’t exactly go all the way down, still; and Cole noticed, of course.

*

We made it to the Crossroads, the dining hall down the block, just a little after seven; just as the sky was turning a darker blue, and lights were coming on in windows up and down the street.

The Crossroads is a kind of food court for students, essentially; a big, glass-fronted room, lined with buffet hot-food stations and display cases, with long tables in the middle of everything. Just now, pre-Halloween decorations hung from the ceiling and overflowed the counters, and the tables were mostly deserted; weekends were always slow.

I showed Cole how to get a tray, and we prowled the selections together; and that was fun, and watching his reactions sort of increased my appetite. Suddenly the same stuff looked new and interesting to me, too.

Until we got to the grill; and I saw Cole’s eyes begin to light up, at the cheeseburgers sizzling there. And I guess I sort of cleared my throat . . .

Almost automatically. Like I did with Derrick, at the same place.

“What - ?” That crinkle of amusement in his glance; that upcurl of his mouth.

“Nothing . . . nothing.”

“Come on.” He eyed me, sideways. Waiting.

“Well . . . it’s just, something like that is almost as bad for you as smoking. Worse, if you eat enough of them.”

“Yeah?” I saw him glance at the grill again, considering; then back at me. “And if I left off the cheese - ?”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. You should have whatever you want – ”

“No, no. I’m interested.” His Cole half-smile was a little playful, a little challenging, now. “What would you, like, recommend? Here, I mean,” and his look swept around the food counters.

“You serious?” I didn’t want to push it.

“Show me.”

First stop was the sushi bar. Well; the pre-made sushi display case, anyway. But it’s still fresh, and good.

Not a success.

Which was surprising; I mean, Cole was a California boy, after all. What red-blooded, native California boy doesn’t like sushi? Wasn’t RAISED on sushi?

This one, I guess. He seemed to have a minor aversion to raw fish.

So I went for next-best, and took him over to the Thai food bar, and I gently steered him to a nice, big portion of Garee Gai, chicken and potatoes with yellow curry, and rice on the side, and I had the same thing –

Okay. So Garee Gai isn’t exactly low-fat. But it is a start.

So we loaded up our plates – overloaded, actually, it’s way too easy to do – and we checked out at the cashier and I swiped Cole’s meal through on my meal plan card, and Cole was impressed –

It was another first. Which, as it happened, would be far from the last.

And while we were eating, facing each other across a table, underneath a giant hanging paper jack-o-lantern, I told Cole about Rajiv the RA.

First, I stumbled a little, trying to describe him to Cole, to describe why I was concerned. Until I mentioned the word, ‘narc’.

“Okay,” he went. Instantly understanding. “I get it.”

It’s the shared high school experience. There’s an Assistant Vice Principal For Leaning On Boys, in all of our backgrounds.

“But it’s not like he saw anything,” he went on, looking at me. “I had my feet up, out of the way, by the time he came in.” He gave me a look, and smirked a little. “My left foot was actually kind of busy.”

Brat, I thought, affectionately. Without saying it; I just smiled. Then:

“It’s not what he saw, it’s what he didn’t see. He saw the two of us go into the shower room. When he came in, one shower stall was being used. One pair of feet . . . and believe me, he looked.”

“Ah.” Cole blinked. He paused, and I could see him thinking. “Ah.”

“It’s okay,” I said. Trying to be – well, more okay with it, than I felt. I shrugged. “Lots of people have guests, in their rooms; overnight guests. It isn’t unusual, and there’s no rule against it, unless you stay for, like, days and days. And like you said, it’s not as though Rajiv saw anything, after all.” I made a face. “Nothing he can say anything about, anyway . . . ”

“Yeah,” went Cole. Looking worried; maybe more worried than I’d seen him be, before. “But – you really think he knows? I mean, about us?”

“Well – he knows we’re gay. Derrick and me, I mean. So . . . yeah, he probably knows, now, about you and me. Probably.”

He totally knew. The really piercing look, the narc look Rajiv gave me, just at that moment, in the hallway outside the showers; me and Cole in bathrobes, sweaty, our hair all messed up – he so totally knew.

“But”, I went on, looking at Cole, holding a bit of curry-yellow chicken still between my chopsticks for a second – “he doesn’t know who you are, really. How old you are; I mean, for all he knows, you could be legal age. You could be a young-looking freshman; just a young, eighteen year old. And if you were, he couldn’t say anything, not a single word. Even asking me about you, could be a kind of harassment; it could open him up to all sorts of University policy questions. Questions about potential discrimination. So, it’ll be okay . . . ”

I didn’t sound all that convincing, even to myself. And Cole didn’t look reassured.

The bottom line was – Cole and I didn’t really have any other place to go, than my dorm room. No place. Cole didn’t even want me walking him back to his house, even when his mom was theoretically gone – and I agreed; it was way, way too much of a risk.

So, I’d be bringing him back up to our suite – when I had the chance. And I’d be as careful about it all, as I could. The most important thing was to keep Cole away from Rajiv; keep them from meeting, keep them from talking, keep Cole from being, well – outed. As underage.

But it was a risk. A bigger risk, over time, the more often Cole came over.

I wished Rajiv didn’t already know.

And deep down, in the pit of my stomach, I knew, I just knew, that Rajiv and I were going to end up having a talk about the situation.  A very serious, a very scary, talk. Someday.

I wasn’t looking forward to it.

*

We actually did watch ‘Rocky Horror Picture Show’, or at least the last hour of it, after dinner.

It was fun; I was so glad we did it.

Oh, none of us were in costume, or anything; although once, back home, Derrick and his temporary-boyfriend-Evan and I did go to a midnight show in this arts theater downtown, where people were all dressed up like the characters, and threw stuff at the screen, and each other –

No, this was more like just general laughter, down in the big, glass-windowed TV lounge on the ground floor of our building, everybody sprawled out over the comfortable sofas and armchairs and the carpets; and each other. A LOT more comfortable than the theater, and more FUN, too; just knowing the people you were watching with, and laughing with – it was actually really fun.

And it felt good. Since the pool party, I hadn’t been out as much, I hadn’t been as social with the other people on my floor, the other people I knew in our building, as usual. And I found out, I’d actually kind of missed them; or at least, the ones I knew from last year . . .

Mark, especially. He’d never, ever seen ‘Rocky Horror Picture Show’ before. His reactions were priceless; half the time wide-eyed, not believing what he was seeing; the rest of the time, split between laughing uncontrollably, and obviously afraid that he was going to be reverse-Raptured, straight down to hell, just for watching.

Mark made the whole evening.

And Cole, for once, for a wonder, behaved. We sat together on the floor, backs to one of the couches, sharing popcorn, and only pressing shoulders with each other; we didn’t even hold hands, the entire time. Just Friends. And the movie moved so fast, and was so funny, we didn’t even have to explain to anyone exactly who Cole was, or what he was doing there.

I would have enjoyed it more, if we could have – touched each other. Leaned on each other, pillowed each other, like Courtney and Jamel, or Kevin and Cindy.

But. It was so, so much fun, anyway.

For Cole and me, it wasn’t entirely about enjoying ourselves. Seeing a movie.

After getting The Eye from Rajiv the Narc – and after being seen heading to the showers by just about every sentient being on our floor, or it seemed that way, anyway – I thought it might be a good idea to show up in public, to avoid acting like Cole and me were maybe just holed up in our room, having wild sex.

Although that’s exactly what we wanted to do. Planned on doing.

Did. After the movie.

*   *   *

There is a difference, an enormous difference, between spending an hour with someone – having sex, making love – and spending a whole night.

When you only have an hour, or even two, the time you have structures the whole experience. It’s almost like a play; there’s an introduction, a buildup, a climax – yeah, I know, but it fits – and, the soft aftermath.

With a whole night – there is no structure. There’s only unknown territory, and two people to fill it.

I’d only ever done this – spent a whole night – with Jesse, three times. I remembered the details of each night; so, so well. Better than I wanted to, anymore.

Cole and I filled up our night.

Oh, of course, we had our climaxes; more than one.

But you can’t spend a whole night racing up to orgasm after orgasm after orgasm, even if you’d want to. It’s just . . . not possible. Physically.

It was the long times between – the times together, wet, bare, or just resting, warm, with each other – that got to me.

Like snuggling with Cole, on the plaid couch in the living room –

Yeah. I knew Derrick wasn’t coming back, that night; so we fooled around in our little dorm-suite living room, too. On the couch; on the floor. In the armchair.

Over the back of the armchair.

And it was sexual, and sensual, and it felt . . . delicious, with a little thrill of false-risk-taking, but it was so much FUN . . .

And then, later –

“So this is what you look like, soft.”

From me; in a whisper, on my bed. My head in Cole’s groin, his soft scrotum almost touching my lips.

The taste of his semen still lingering in my mouth.

“You saw it soft before. At the pool party.” A whisper back, from Cole; with a puff of laughter, and I felt his breath in my own crotch.

“Not really.” A pause, for a beat or two, in the darkness. Then: “Well – except through the water, maybe. I was afraid of, like, staring . . . ”

The whole moment, one of shocking intimacy. Late, late at night – I didn’t even know how late. Cole and I the only people in the stillness of the world.

“And how about me?”, the whisper from below my waist. “Let me look at YOU, soft . . . ” And I closed my eyes, and I felt his warm, bare body move against mine –

“Oops,” he went, after a second, with a quiet kind of laughter. “Too late.”

Exploring our bodies, exploring our physical reactions to each other – our very, very sexual responses to each other – was just part of the night.

Much more importantly, we were exploring our emotions; we were exploring our hearts. With every look, into each other’s eyes; with the way we kissed each other, with the sounds we made, with the way we moved in each other’s arms . . . and with the ways we helped each other to orgasm; that ultimately intimate moment that lowers all of our barriers, makes us all so vulnerable, CONNECTS us, so . . .

And doing that was so, so dangerous. For both of us; both of us hurt – both of us badly hurt – in our other relationships.

And we both knew it. Even as we kissed, and licked, and moved against each other, we knew it, we knew that it was dangerous, emotionally dangerous, and the danger made it kind of a thrill, a test, and we went on, pushing, probing, testing the limits of what we could reveal to each other, what we SHOULD reveal to each other –

So we slept together. But we didn’t really sleep; all night.

Partly, of course – we wouldn’t have. I mean, I wasn’t USED to sleeping with another person; I’d only spent those three nights with Jesse, and even then, someone I’d loved for two years and more, I wasn’t used to him, and I could barely manage to doze in his bed.

And partly, it was both of us, Cole and me, knowing how precious this night was. How hard it had been for Cole to manage it; how long it might be until we could do it again – if ever . . .

But if I didn’t sleep, there was still a kind of dreamy unreality I slipped into, between – well, between the other times, the times we were building to our orgasms, or the times we were just whispering and hugging and caressing each other.

Later; later, that night, towards dawn. Me holding Cole, spooning Cole, both of us on our sides; my hard-again dick comfortably pressed lengthwise into Cole’s soft, warm, crack, hotdogging him, sliding around easily in the lube we’d been using all night, Cole’s warm back against my chest. Both of us occasionally making soft noises, as I petted him, and pushed against his butt, and he pushed back, and then we went still, and then we did it again, and then again, and I was sort of half-there, and sort of half-dreaming . . .

Until I felt something. Something I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

“Mmmmmmph . . . ”, from the boy in my arms, softly; and I felt him move.

My eyes blinked open. “Cole - !” And I felt my heartbeat start racing up, and up, in seconds.

More movement, against me. Down there. His hand, reaching back, between us, holding me. The feeling . . . the feeling of penetration; me pushing into him, pushing against his anal ring, just beginning to slip inside him –

“Mmmmpphhhhhh - !” from Cole, and I felt a little jerk go through his body.

And I felt myself go in just a little deeper.

“Cole!”, I hissed. Urgently. “Condom - ?!”

Cole froze, in my arms; one second, two seconds, three seconds . . . and then made a frustrated noise. “Quick!”, he hissed back at me.

I tried. I made it as quick as I could.

I had to move, a little – Cole stubbornly laid where he was – to reach over him, to get a condom (one of my own, thank God) from the niche where I kept them, with the lube –

And then it was about using my teeth to tear the package open, and then fumbling, trying to get it on one-handed, then half-rolling over on my back so I could use both hands –

And then fumbling some more with the lube, slicking myself up, and my heart was pounding and pounding, and it all felt so unreal, because I was so, so EXCITED –

“Let me!”, he hissed, as I lay back down behind him, against him, and my arms went around him, and his top hand came back and took me and rubbed the head of my dick up and down between his cheeks for just a second, until he held it still, and then he PUSHED back, and I felt myself sink into him, just a little, as he opened up, and then, as he breathed, and breathed, he PUSHED back some more, and I was deeper into him, now, actually partway IN Cole . . .

And he began making sounds.

Sounds that stabbed my heart.

Oh – I already knew, Cole could be a little noisy, during lovemaking; right from the start, from the pool party, the noises he made, his whimpers, his gasps –

This was different.

As Cole pushed himself back on me a little more, my arms holding him so, so tight, going almost-crazy with the sensation of my dick going INTO him, getting DEEPER into him –

As he pushed back, each time he pushed back, impaling himself a little deeper on me – he’d give out this sharp, clear, “aaaahhh!”

Push back, against me – “aaahhh!”

Push back, a second later, a little deeper – “aaaAAAAHHH!”, ending on a rising note.

Not a cry of pain. More like a whine of pleasure. Pleasure at being penetrated; pleasure at being probed.

Maybe something more than just, pleasure. More primal.

It came from the soul – it was so, so clear, it came from his soul, and the sounds of him whining like that had me ready to cum by the time I was halfway in him.

Push. “aaaahHHH . . . ”

Push back, more; this time, a deeper push. “AAAAAhhhh . . . ”, trailing off to a sort of, “ooohhhhhh . . . . ”

Holding him, there, my face nuzzling his cheek, his soft hair against my neck . . . his ragged breathing mingling with mine . . .

I couldn’t help myself, I had to give a gentle push of my own, just a little –

“aaaAAAH!!”, in a gasp, and one hand came back, to rest on my hip; and I got the message, I froze, and we rested there, for just a second, as I came back from the brink of what would have been the most blinding orgasm of my whole life, and Cole –

Cole pushed back, again; after a second. And keened out, again.

And again. And again.

Until I was all the way in him; balls-in, pressing up, and Cole was breathing hard, in my arms, and I was kissing his smooth cheek, and licking his neck, almost crazy with the sensations, but even more crazy at being IN him like that, FUCKING him, really FUCKING him, at last . . .

Neither one of us lasted long.

First there was a time of us lying still, there, breathing, FEELING it, feeling the penetration, and I almost didn’t dare to move . . . holding Cole so tight in my arms, IN him –

Then there came a moment, a moment that started with Cole breathing out one word: “Slow . . . ”

And I took him at his word, and I pulled back, just a little, just an inch or so, and then I pushed in, I pushed against him, gently, and he went “aaaaaaaahhhhhh - !” low and sharp –

Cole matched me; move for move. Probe for probe. He moved against my body, he moved against my crotch.

He moved against my dick. IMPALED himself on me; controlling the fucking, the way I penetrated him . . . the angle, the speed –

Making those noises, all the time. Sharp; clear, spearing my heart.

We fucked Cole together. And knowing it, knowing that he was deliberately taking his pleasure at his own fucking . . . was unbelievably exciting to me. I was used to Jesse, never knowing if his sounds, his moves, his reactions – never knowing if they were real, his real feelings, or just an act, to please me – or to advance one of his agendas . . .

This was so, so different. So REAL.

So wonderful.

“Baby,” I whispered into his ear between kissing and licking his face, his warm neck, and I tried pleasuring him, I pulled back further and tried jabbing INTO him in short, shallow strokes – not hard strokes – aiming for his prostate –

“aaaAAAAHHHHH!! aaaaAAAAHHHHHHH - !!” He was loud, almost twisting in my arms, trying to get me to hit the right spot – “aaaaAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

I had to stop, a second, and he whimpered a little, in my arms.

“Baby,” I breathed. “We have to be quieter . . . these walls are too thin.”

“Uhhh . . . huhhhh,” he whimpered back, soft, after a few breaths.

His eyes were closed; his mouth was open, his lips looked really full, almost like they were swollen, and as he lay there, panting, I couldn’t help it, I leaned around, awkwardly, and he twisted his head a little, and I tasted the slick wetness of his mouth –

And I moved in, slow, but deep, at a different angle, and Cole moaned again, but softer, and different, and on the downstrokes when I was in as deep as I could go I sort of ground my pelvis just a little, gently, and Cole went “aaaAAHH!!”, short and sharp, so I did it again –

We couldn’t last.

Oh, it wasn’t all that impressive a fuck, technically; Cole was still too tight, we were both too close, to move around, do exotic positions . . . it would have made bad porn.

And ultimately, like I said, we were just too close. WAY too close. We couldn’t make it last.

And it was the single most intense, most exciting . . . most mind-shattering sexual act I’ve ever been part of, until then.

The most emotional. The most loving.

And so there was a time, I was jabbing Cole short again, but slower, and with my free hand I was jacking him, as best I could, losing the rhythm, then picking it up again –

And Cole was still sounding; still moving, still making sharp, “aaaAAAHHHH” noises in time with my thrusts, and I was past caring about the thin walls –

“Baby, I’m going to cum,” I whispered. Into his neck. Gasping it.

Probe. Probe. Probe.

And Cole whimpered, loud, and he moved really strong against me – he arched his butt up higher off the mattress, opening himself up even more to me, and then he moved back against me, back on my dick, for my next thrust, and his whimpers became constant, now, “aaaa . . . aaa . . . aaaaaaa . . . . ”

I got the message.

I went deep into Cole, and harder – still afraid of hurting him, but harder, and his sounds picked up even more in intensity – “AAAA! AAAAAHHHHH!!” –

But at the same time, I tried to grind a little, when I bottomed out, and I tried, I really tried to move up on his body, some, to aim down, back at his prostate –

And I couldn’t last, and I felt it all rising up inside me, and I was making strangled sounds all my own, and then I was spasming, so hard, shot after shot after shot, after shot, into Cole’s ass, into my condom so deep in Cole’s ass . . .

And a dim time later, totally wrecked, completely wiped out, Cole still under me/beside me, still in my arms, I was aware of him jerking himself, quickly, urgently – still moving himself back against me –

So I started in again, started thrusting again – not to get myself off; I’d already come more times that night than I ever had before, I knew I was done – but to get Cole off, and just thinking about that, thinking about helping Cole to orgasm by fucking him was enough to keep me hard . . .

“AAAAA! AAAAAAA!!” Cole’s whimpers were higher-pitched, now, in time with my thrusts, and his body was really jerking in my arms, and I tried to MOVE as I fucked him, I tried to grind my pelvis, and hit his prostate, at the same time –

“AAAAA . . . ? AAAAAA . . . ?” I felt him seize up, then clamp down HARD around my cock, as he came, and came, and came, all over the bottom sheet, and he kept squeezing me, squeezing my dick, as his spasms trailed off . . .

“Baby,” I whispered into his neck, as I held him, both of us panting; me loving him so much, right then, me so SURE of loving him, right then . . .

*  *  *  *  *

Thank you for reading! Comments are always deeply appreciated, at dlgrantsf@yahoo.com.