I left my apartment at 6:00 A.M. and pedaled my ass through the pre-dawn streets. The morning air cooled my face and freshly shaven legs as I thrust my Bianchi bicycle ahead of the morning traffic toward the Springwater Corridor trail. By the time I reached the precipitous access path, I was sweating in the sunrise air. I slid around the barrier that prevented motorized vehicles from entering the trail, let go of my brakes, and flew down the steep path.
My ass was up and the wind was whistling through the slits in my helmet when I saw a bicyclist coasting obliviously toward the intersection. Instinctively, I thrust my butt back to balance my weight and squeezed my brakes. My tires squeaked horribly. Though the approaching cyclist skidded sideways, my rear wheel rose and I sailed over my handlebars and landed in a thicket of blackberries. The crash knocked the breath out of me; as I drew a laboring gasp, I did not for a moment know where I was or what had happened. Gradually I became aware of a voice hailing from beyond.
"Holy shit. You took one hell of a spill," he exclaimed. When I failed to respond, he called, "Hey, are you hurt? Can you talk?"
After a minute's reflection I concluded that I was not receiving a greeting from an angel. The words "holy shit" rendered a heavenly encounter unlikely. "I'm okay," I assured him, but when I tried to move I discovered that the vines were holding me. I heard the sound of ripping Lycra and felt a painful stinging sensation, accompanied by a breeze.
"Wait," the voice called. "Stop moving. You're ripping your shorts. You've got blackberry vines wrapped around your waist, and they're clinging to your ass."
Still, I attempted to free myself, but I was entangled and every tug resulted in further tearing and more pain. Whenever I got a grip on one long green vine, another stalk attacked me with its thorns.
"Hold still, man. You're tearing yourself up. Just wait. I'm coming in to help you."
Like a conquering hero, the stranger braved the blackberry bushes and pulled long, thorny trailers aside while I struggled clear. Clutching my arm with one strong hand and supporting my ass with the other, he helped me rise. If it hadn't been for the thorns, I would have warmed to the touch of his hand.
"Ouch!" I yelped as he grabbed a particularly sensitive spot on my right buttock. In spite of my embarrassed howls, he assisted me back to the asphalt path and examined my wounds.
"Oh shit, your skin is all scratched, and your ass is hanging out of your bicycle shorts. You'd better strip so I can pull out the thorns."
The morning mist was lifting, and I could see six bicyclists approaching, not to mention mothers pushing strollers, two riders on horseback, a group of dog walkers, and several hikers with backpacks. While my body is nothing to be ashamed of, I didn't want a gaggle of prudes honking that I was corrupting their offspring.
The helpful bicyclist saw my hesitation. "How about under the bridge?" He pointed toward the bridge over the creek that stood only a hundred feet away. "Nobody could possibly see us there."
My new friend helped by wheeling both bicycles, while I limped along, wincing from the thorns. As we veered off the path and along the wooden ramp, I told him my name that my name was Mark and he gave me his.
"I'm Brad."
"Brad, I'm sure sorry. I came off the bluff like I owned the fuckin' trail; I never dreamed anybody else would be coming along so early." As I glanced again at the assorted groups enjoying the Springwater Corridor, my face burned. "I was really stupid."
Brad grinned. His grin was the kind that lit up the world. "I've blasted down that same path a few times, man. It's a rush. I'm just lucky I haven't taken a digger myself."
I smiled ruefully. In spite of the thorns in my ass, I was feeling a familiar fomenting of the glands. "I wasn't so lucky this time."
"I don't know about that," Brad demurred, a suggestive smile playing around his mouth. I knew right then that he was interested in me. Automatically, my eyes wandered down his body.
Brad was built like a professional bicyclist: broad shoulders, flat stomach, powerful legs, and a sturdy round butt meant for hard pedaling. Like mine, his legs were tanned and shaved. When he took off his bicycle helmet, I saw that he had thick, carrot-colored hair, trimmed short. He was wearing a red, white, and blue jersey with blue bike shorts. The bulge of his buttocks rounded his shorts in back. His thick cock and balls formed a fascinating bulge in the front.
Under the sheltering curve of the bridge, Brad propped our bicycles against the railing. The waters of Johnson Creek, a turbulent stream, burbled as they ran toward the river.
"Okay, Mark, pull off your shorts. Let's check out the damage."
I took off my helmet and set it on the boards. Then I peeled off my jersey. Brad grinned and hummed stripper music. I felt my cock stiffening.
"You sound like you're in a hurry to get me naked," I teased.
Brad smiled mysteriously. Then he kneeled and unfastened my shoes. He took them off and set them aside. I moved to roll down my black cycling shorts but Brad caught my hands.
"Let me do it." His fingers slid into the waistband, and a thrill shot through me. As he slowly pulled down my shorts, he tried to avoid scratching me further with the attached thorns. Clearing the restraining fabric and pad, my cock popped free, stood proudly, and bobbed only a few inches from Brad's mouth.
Brad's smile reminded me of that of Leonardo's Mona Lisa, which had long conveyed a coded message to cocksuckers. After Brad pulled my shorts over my feet, he examined the rips. "These shorts are shot to hell," he pronounced, poking his finger through a long tear. When he raised his head toward me, his lips were only an inch from my cock. Without warning he kissed it.
"Oh, yes," I moaned. His kiss made me forget that I was seven miles from home with nothing but atmosphere between my skin and the sky.
"That kiss was just a promise," he said. "I'm still checking for thorns."
He turned me around and plucked blackberry brambles out of my butt cheeks.
"You have a few nasty scratches. Nothing that won't heal." He ran his hands over my hot ass mounds. "You have beautiful buns, Mark. It's a shame that you grazed them."
"I'd endure ten million scratches to feel your hands on my ass."
Brad's lips touched my ass affectionately before he turned to examine the scores on my arms and chest. "These are deep," he said. He ripped open a tube of antibiotic ointment and treated my wounds. "Does that feel better?"
"Yeah."
While he looked me over, his hand glided sensuously down to my stiff cock. He slowly closed his hand around the shaft; then he ran his thumb over the head.
"Oh," I murmured as a needy agony filled me and a thin stream of pre-cum leaked out.
"Yum," he whispered pinching my dick head between his thumb and forefinger. "How do you feel?"
What a question! I felt like my dick was going to explode.
"I'm feeling lots better now," I said. As his fingers toyed with the head of my cock, a long moan escaped from my mouth. "Wow. Oh, yeah, man. I'm feeling really good."
Brad continued gripping my dick shaft with his left fist. With his right he twisted my dick head as if he were unscrewing the lid of a bottle. I thought that I'd explode right then. Nearly unbearable tingles coursed through my midsection.
"I can make you forget about your blackberry scratches. I'll suck out the pain. Would you like that, Mark?"
"Oh, yes. Please." My cock was tingling with anticipation. The anticipation of gliding it over his lips and into his mouth drove out the pain from the scratches and punctures.
Looking down, I watched his lips approach my swollen cock. Then his pink tongue emerged and he ran it around the head. I felt another stream of pre-cum jet from my dick as he tormented the rim with his expert tongue.
"Suck me, Brad," I moaned. "Suck my dick. Suck me off."
Brad gripped my muscular thighs with both hands. They felt cool on my burning flesh, but my heat soon warmed them. Then Brad slid his hands over my ass, forgetting my scratches in his passion. I didn't care, because I had forgotten the scratches too.
Brad turned his face up and winked at me. "I want you to hold my head when you get excited. I like guys to feed me."
My ball sack was tight and my cock was throbbing. Brad was rubbing his hands over my butt cheeks freely and tickling my crack with his index finger. Then he slid his soft lips over my cock head and rotated his head gently back and forth.
"Oh, Brad," I groaned. "Oh, yeah. Suck me like that. Yeah."
His muscular shoulders wobbled as his head bobbed to and fro. I slid my hands over his shoulders and down his arms. I love to stroke a man's bulging biceps, and Brad had plenty to stroke. His strong arms bulged as his hands kneaded my ass and his fingers tantalized my horny crack.
"Oh, suck me. Suck my cock."
Brad's mouth never left my dick when he grabbed my left hand and pulled it toward his ear. Understanding, I slid my hands behind his head and held him as he wanted. His red hair was silky to the touch. I stroked his hair as he took more and more of my cock shaft into his mouth.
"Oh, Brad, you're going to make me do it. You're going to make me. Oh, Brad, you're going to make me do it in your mouth."
Brad sucked more vigorously as I talked. I couldn't stop running my mouth even as his mouth worked ferociously at the head of my dick.
"I've got a load, and I'm gonna blow it all," I moaned.
Brad nodded as he worried my agonized dick head with his lips and tongue. His finger tickled my willing asshole while he blew me.
"I'm going to blow wads, Brad," I shouted. "Wads."
My big balls were tight, and they tightened harder, and my dick seemed to stiffen even more. It grew heavier and felt like it would burst in Brad's mouth.
"I'm going to come, Brad. Nothing can stop me. Oh, Brad, you're making me do it. You're making me come in your mouth."
Brad gripped my buns with iron hands as he directed my orgasm. Tingles of rapture coursed through my burning cock head and up my shaft. I was beyond stopping it, beyond stopping anything, as I wiggled my ass and thrust it, fucking Brad's lips, tongue, and throat. Then the powerful muscles at the base of my dick contracted and my first blast of jism covered his tongue.
"Oh, Brad, I'm shooting big wads into your mouth. Oh, my gods, I'm fucking you in the mouth."
My muscles contracted again and again shooting great gouts of hot spunk. Meanwhile, Brad never gave my tortured cock a break, even as I humped and fucked his mouth like one possessed. Even as I thrilled over the threshold of agony, he popped his hard lips over my cock head and forced me to drain my balls.
"Oh, Brad, I'm coming so heavy. Oh, Brad, I've never had it like this."
Indeed, I thought that I would pass out or die. Everything went dark before my eyes as heavier ripples of sexual ecstasy transported me, as though my very self would shoot out the hole in my dick as it spurted more cum than I'd ever believed any human man could blow.
Then exhausted, drained, spent, I collapsed against the lichen covered concrete. Brad still held my butt with both hands. Slowly he moved his mouth away from my cock. Then his hands slid off my butt, and I stared into his face. I love the cute grin that comes over a guy's face after he's given world-class head.
My cock was slick, and a final drop of my semen oozed from the hole. I touched my finger to it. It smelled stronger than ordinary, muskier. It was more pungent than usual, and it had a distinctly tangy taste. I licked my finger clean. Brad grinned as he watched me eat my cum drop.
"Wow, man, I do that too. When did you start eating what you shoot?"
"Since the first time I jerked off. I was rolling around on my bed and playing with my dick. Next thing I knew, I felt this yummy sensation and unloaded all over my tummy. Then I heard my mother coming up the stairs, so I wiped my hand over my cum and licked it off. It's hard to believe that that some guys have never tasted their own cum."
"They're afraid, Mark," Brad confided. "They're afraid that they'll like cum."
"Of course they'd like it. The damn fools don't know what they're missing."
I rinsed in Johnson Creek. Green-headed mallards swam by while I was cleaning my hands. They quacked at us, and I could hear the roar of the small waterfall that lay a hundred yards around the bend.
"God, what a beautiful morning," I exclaimed as I picked up my bicycle shorts. When I pulled them over my ass, the rips grew.
"Holy shit, Mark. You can't wear those," Brad said, laughing at my protruding cock. "How do you feel about red?"
"Huh?"
"I was at the bike shop yesterday and bought some red cycling shorts. I haven't even worn them yet."
"You brought them with you?" It seemed strange. "I mean, who carries extra bicycle shorts around?"
He explained, "I biked to the shop, and the bag is still in my pannier." He removed a bag emblazoned with the logo of a local bicycle shop, and pulled out a pair of red cycling shorts. Hot shorts. Expensive shorts. I could never have afforded those shorts. I wanted to wear them, but I also felt guilty. However, Brad read my expression accurately.
"Try them on," he insisted, pressing them upon me.
I stepped into the shorts. They were thinner than my old black ones. The pad was less bulky and when I adjusted my dick Brad gasped.
"What?" I said.
"Oh, Mark, you should see yourself," he sighed. "Those shorts sure do fit your ass. You look good enough to fuck."
Though it hardly seemed possible, I felt the renewed stirrings of horniness. How many times had Brad referred to my ass? I'd lost count, but the sum would have proved that he was an ass man. An ass man who gave a wonderful blow job, but an ass man none the less. The thought of his lusting after my butt filled me with dreamy sensations.
Brad patted my butt and gave me a sweet kiss. "Consider the shorts my gift," he insisted. I was about to protest, but he refused to hear it. "Money isn't an issue, Mark."
I wasn't sure what he meant, but I'd already thought of a way to repay him. If he wanted my ass, he was going to get it. But first I was going to tease him with it. I was going to work him up until he could hardly stand it. When he finally did get his cock into my ass, he was going to think he'd gone to heaven.
"Come on, Brad," I urged. "It's time to sweat. Let's pedal out to the boondocks." Cautiously, I planted my butt on my bicycle seat. Fortunately the thorns had wreaked their damage more to the sides of my buttocks, so bicycling was no discomfort. I jammed my foot down hard and shot away from Brad. I had no doubt that he'd chase me, especially when I rose an inch above the seat and showed him my curves. True to my predictions, he pumped like a maniac until he caught up with my enticing butt.
We passed the trailhead and pedaled hard past the lumber yards, scrap yards, gravel quarries, power substations, and industrial parks. The bicycle trail was bordered with a variety of native plants, but the most prevalent were the blackberries. The bushes were blooming prolifically, since we were riding in June and the delicious nemesis did not ripen until August.
Passing other bicyclists, strollers, joggers, and horseback riders, we rode single file. Abruptly, Brad passed me and took the lead. Was he bored with watching my ass? Or did he want me to admire his for a few miles? Admire it I did, for his powerful buns worked enticingly as he stood to pedal through intersections. Next to cross country skiing, bicycling is the best exercise for working the buttocks; cyclists frequently end up with firm, rounded rear ends, and I couldn't stop drooling over Brad's super-duper caboose.
After we passed the final junkyard and pedaled into the country, I decided that it was time again to dangle my own rear end before Brad's face. We had only a few miles to go until we reached the spot I'd selected. Brad didn't know it yet, but I was planning to seduce him under a canopy of trees. His dick would be travelling up my ass quite soon.
"I'm taking the lead," I yelled as I sprinted past him. Standing on my pedals, I thrust my ass back toward Brad's nose. Three white geese honked from behind their fence, and a couple of speckled horses studied us warily. Did their animal brains comprehend that the human in front wanted to be caught by his pursuer? A young coyote poked his nose through the scotch broom and watched as if he could read my intentions. I could feel Brad's eyes on my butt; however, I pretended that I wasn't trying to seduce him.
"Isn't it beautiful?" I breathed admiring the twin green buttes rising like Earth's buttocks before us and the taller hump of Mt. Scott painting the sky to the South.
"Yeah," Brad moaned. "It's beautiful."
"It's so green and primitive."
"What are you talking about?" Brad wondered.
He had not even noticed the scenery. His mind was so focused upon my ass that he would not have known whether he was bicycling through the mountains or across the desert. Again, I floated my ass over my seat to give him a better view and pumped my pedals like the devil.
"Oh, yeah, baby, ride that thing," Brad called. I heard the pace of his wheels quicken. "Yeah. Ride it. Oh," Brad moaned, losing all sense of decorum as he chased me.
"My ass is yours any time you want it," I offered when I knew that he was directly behind my rear wheel.
I waited only a stopped heartbeat to hear his reaction, but in my impatience, his response seemed to take an eon to arrive.
"I want it now, Mark. Right now."
My asshole puckered, and a thrill of expectancy shot through my belly. Hitting my brakes madly, I screeched my bike to a halt. Brad braked beside me, and stood close. His sweaty thigh rested against mine, and his hand found the rear of my shorts. As he stroked my buns through the Lycra, I leaned my mouth toward his. Our lips met. Slowly I slid my hot tongue into his eager mouth, and he met it with his own. My dick hardened in my shorts; glancing down, I saw Brad's shorts protruding outrageously. I wondered what massive organ he planned to drill up my ass and my heart raced with excitement.
We kissed again, our tongues burning passionately against each other, our cocks straining the fabric of our shorts, and our blood singing to the throbbing excitement of nature. Breaking apart was a torture that we had to endure; we were too exposed. Then I pointed toward the green hill of old growth forest that stood before us, the place I had selected. "Let's go into the woods."
Blazing with fervent lust, we pedaled painfully toward the path into the butte. Two 600 foot hills stood side by side, the bicycle path dividing its route between them. Again, I imagined them as two massive green buttocks rising in the sunlight and casting their shadows into the cleft through which we rode.
We soon reached a dirt path lined with gooseberry and plum and pedaled down the lane of buggery. Several hundred yards in, we reached the first strand of ancient trees. Under the hush of gigantic trunks supporting high canopies of boughs, we leaned our bicycles against the cyclopean trunks, drank deeply from our water bottles, and locked our streaming bodies into a tight embrace.
Brad kissed me deeply, his tongue fucking my mouth. Kissing him back, I slid my hand into his shorts and gripped his hard dick. The shaft felt unbelievably thick in my fist. Sticky fluid leaked out of his dickhead and washed over my hand. I used it to lubricate my palm, and gently stroked his cock.
Brad's hands were busy exploring my ass. He rubbed his hands over my butt; then he slowly pushed my shorts toward my knees. He kneaded my hard buns like a baker and let his magic fingers wander into my crack.
I pulled my mouth away from his. "Oh, Brad, I want you inside me. I want your big cock pounding my asshole. I want you to blast me in the ass, Brad."
As I stripped him naked, he finished undressing me. We tossed our clothing onto the branch of a fallen tree, its immense waist-high trunk sprouting living boughs from the ruined bark.
"Do you have everything we need?" I asked hopefully.
With a flourish, Brad produced extra-strength condoms and a tube of water-based lubricant. I washed our hands from my water bottle. Then I unrolled a condom onto Brad's fat cock. It hardened even more as I wrapped it, and I watched the skin stretch tight. I squeezed a dollop of the lubricant into my hand and royally gooped up Brad's dick. I fingered a generous amount of the lube into my asshole.
"How do you want it?" Brad asked, his voice husky with desire.
I bent over the trunk and hugged the ancient moss covered bark while poking my ass toward Brad. "Fuck me like this, Brad."
"Oh, wow, you really do want it, Mark." His strong hands caressed my buns and invaded my crack. His clever fingers traced a line from the small of my back downwards.
"Give it a wiggle if you want me to fuck it," Brad teased.
I wiggled my ass for all it was worth. Brad grabbed my butt cheeks with both hands and touched his dickhead to my asshole. I pushed my hole open, and in he came; his thick cock kept sliding in and in as my asshole stretched wider around it. It didn't hurt, but I felt fuller than I ever had in my life.
"It's almost all in, Mark," Brad gasped. "I can't believe that you're taking it all."
"I'm built for it, Brad. My body was designed to take big cocks. Drive it in to the hilt."
Drive he did. I thought that he had rent me whenwith a mighty plungehe rammed my buns with his lap and his balls pressed against mine.
"Oh, yeah, that's great," I moaned. "Now, fuck me. That's it, Brad. You've got your cock stuck all the way into me, so fuck my gay ass."
With supreme gumption, Brad did so. He drew his cock back and reamed me again. As he took up a pattern of steady drilling, stuffing and emptying me with each lunge, I was flooded with sensations of pure pleasure. I wished that all my friends were there to watch how I took Brad's cock.
"Oh, you're really sticking it to me. That feels so good. Keep it up, Brad. Fuck me. Fuck my gay ass."
"I love the way you beg for it," Brad grunted, his breath hot in my ear.
My own breath was rasping in my throat while I kept begging him to fuck my ass harder and faster. Every stroke sent ripples of pleasure through my body and into my brain. Brad's cock was inside me, filling me in ways that transcended the mere physical.
"Oh, yeah, pound me like that. Oh, you're fucking me like a bitch. Don't stop. Don't ever stop. I love your big dick up my horny ass."
"Yeah, take it, Mark. Oh, yeah, I love the way you talk while you're taking it. I love fucking your hot butt."
Our rhythm was perfect. I pushed with my asshole as he thrust into me, and squeezed him hard when he pulled back. As I milked his cock with my anal sphincter, I heard his breath grow harsher. I was getting him off, and my cock was rock hard and dripping from the massage he was giving the little buzzer up my ass.
"Ah, Mark, I'm getting close. I'm going to shoot big loads up your gay ass, gayboy. I'm going to blast a gallon of spunk."
Loving the way he called me "gayboy," I gripped the tree trunk with whitened fingers and made my ass answer his strokes. He started fucking me faster, his big knobby cockhead milking my prostate, but I met his pleasures with my own, gasping, groaning, and whining from the exquisite torture of approaching orgasm. Brad was going to blast his load up my ass, but I was going to shoot first.
"Brad, you're making me come," I howled. "You're giving me an anal orgasm. Oh!"
I moaned, nearly sobbing with delight, as I fucked his huge cock with my asshole, and my dick grew heavier as the tingles of pleasure radiated from my asshole to the base of my cock. My dickhead tingled; then the first waves of my orgasm hit me. My muscles contracted, not just the powerful shooting muscles at the base of my cock, but my asshole as well, locking tightly around Brad's fast stroking cock.
My dick jerked as I shot a burst of juice onto the tree trunk. Squirt followed squirt as I blasted loads of sticky jism onto the bark, my throbbing asshole milking Brad off too.
"Oh, that's hot. Your cock is hot. Yes, it's so hot. Yes," I affirmed in the rapture of my orgasm. `I love it, Brad. I love hot cock."
He whimpered as my grainy asshole polished his dickhead, pulling him beyond the point of return and turning him into an insane animal of lust.
"Oh, Mark, I'm going to blow my load. Ah! Here I come. Oh, Mark, you wonderful gayboy, I'm coming in your ass. You're making me spurt in your horny gay ass."
"Shoot it, Brad. Let fly."
"Ah, I'm coming so heavy. Oh, Mark, I've never come like this. I didn't know it could be like this."
When my cock had shot its load, I felt Brad slowing his strokes. He humped me slowly for a few thumps; then he carefully pulled his cock out of my hole. My asshole made a popping sound as he drew out his dickhead. Turning, I saw that the tough condom was swollen with semen.
"You sure shot a load, Brad."
"Yeah, I never had an ass like yours, Mark. You really put it out."
I grinned. I've always been proud of my anal skills. I rested a naked buttock on the fallen tree while Brad packed the used condom and wrapper in a disposable baggie. He wiped the excess lubricant from my fresh-fucked asshole and added it to the garbage.
"You give great cock, Brad," I assured him, rubbing his softening cock.
"Do you still feel me inside of you?"
"Oh, yes," I said, pulling on my jersey. "I'll be feeling a shadow fuck for the rest of the day."
Before I could pull on my red shorts, Brad kissed me again, his callused hand petting my ass cheeks. I felt an overall warmth anew as he lovingly stroked my ass.
"You have a beautiful set of hunkies, Mark," he whispered after pulling his tongue from mine. Our cocks were semi-stiff once more, but for the present we'd exhausted the juices in our balls.
"My butt sure does attract the guys," I bragged. "But you're the best I've ever had."
"I wish I could keep my dick up your ass forever," he said. "I liked sucking on your cock, too." Suddenly he placed his lips close to my ear and shyly whispered a secret longing. "I want your big cock up my ass. I've never been fucked, but I want you to stick it to me the same way I gave it to you. Not right now, but soon."
We dressed and left the eerie realm of ancient trees. As we were pedaling back the dirt single track toward the paved corridor, a mule deer stood beside a young aspen tree and watched us retire from his domain. A flock of wrens took flight from the blackberry bushes as we rejoined the asphalt bicycle path.
I pedaled hard and the powerful muscles of my buttocks drove my bicycle forward. My asshole felt wet and a little sticky, and it ached pleasurably from the terrific pounding it had received. The sensations made me smile as I pedaled.
"I sure put a smile on your face, Mark," Brad gloated.
His smirk was just as broad. I winked seductively at my new lover, and we pedaled to the distant end of the bicycle path. There we sat on top of a picnic table under a shelter, munched carbohydrate bars, and guzzled sports drinks. We waved and smiled at joggers and other cyclists; in between we kissed, making out proudly on top of the picnic table.
Finally, we pedaled back the way we had come. As we neared the Western trailhead, my heart began to race. Had Brad meant what he said, I wondered.
"Mark, I live close by," Brad suggested. "How about stopping off for a shower? We can soap each other up and towel each other off."
"Yeah, sounds like fun," I agreed.
Brad led the way, and I followed his curvaceous ass. He had buns like mine, the kind that come from years of pushing a bicycle. There lay territory I needed to explore, and I blew a promising kiss at Brad's ass as I followed him home.
Brad lived in a traditional log house on the bluff overlooking Johnson Creek. It looked like the family home of an early settler. We hung our helmets on our handlebars, locked our bicycles in his shed, and removed our cycling shoes at the front door. When he led me inside, I was overwhelmed by the Native American artifacts, wall hangings, and knotted rugs. Two Corgi dogs rushed to greet us, and after Brad had introduced me to the boys, he took me by the hand and showed me around.
Upon reaching the laundry room, he pulled off his shirt and stepped out of his shorts. I could not restrain a lusty gasp, which made him grin. I tweaked his left nipple. I felt my cock hardening, and I saw that Brad's cock was rising as well. I touched my tongue to his left nipple while I ran my thumb over his right.
"You like to pitch as well as catch?" he asked hopefully. "Oh, yes, that's nice, Mark."
"Yum, umm," I answered. He wanted to get fucked, but he was shy about asking for it. I thought it touching.
"I want you," he said.
"How do you want me?" I demanded, my hands exploring his ass.
I slipped behind him and kissed the nape of his neck, my erect cock nestling between his butt cheeks. Instinctively he arched his back and stuck out his ass like a cat in heat. Then he shyly pulled away.
"Wait," he said, gasping. "Throw your stuff into the washer. We'll go into the shower."
I pulled down my shorts--his gift shorts--and tossed them into the washer along with my jersey and socks. He added soap and turned on the washer. Then he grabbed my standing cock and pulled me into a shower that stood off the laundry room. I followed like a pull-toy.
Under the spray of hot water, our lips met. The kiss was long and lingering and seemed to suffuse my entire body until I melted like butter in the sun. My legs wobbled, and I slowly sank to my knees. Brad's massive, round buttocks were standing before my face, the water cascading over his cheeks and down his deep crevice. I planted my face against his crack and my tongue slid from my mouth as if it possessed a will of its own. I licked from the top of his crack down to his little rosebud. The tip of my tongue circled the rim.
"Oh, yes, Mark," Brad pleaded. "Lick my ass. No other man has ever touched my asshole, but I want you to lick my ass. And much, much more."
I licked and tongued him until I had him moaning with pleasure. I darted my tongue into his asshole even as the water from the showerhead cascaded over my head and down my face. My dick was throbbing again, and I wanted to stick it into him just as he had stuck his cock to me.
"Yes, Mark, fuck me," Brad moaned, reading my mind. "Give me my first butt fuck. Teach me how to take it."
"We can't do it in the shower," I said, determined not to allow passion to lead us into less safe sex. My words sounded silly considering where my mouth had just been, but Brad turned off the water and grabbed a couple of towels. We had fun drying each other. Brad's hands traveled over every inch of my body--as they were meant to do. I nearly ejaculated when he dried my dick.
"Whoops," he said. "Let's hit the bed."
The bedside table held condoms, lubricant, and anal toys--proving that Brad's asshole wasn't as virginal as he claimed. Nevertheless, we left the butt plugs and beads alone because we'd had enough foreplay. Brad was ready to be penetrated, and I was mad with lust. He asked me to lube his ass. His asshole needed no persuasion. My fingers glided in easily, and I twisted them as I filled him with a generous quantity of lubricant. When I had him ready for action, I propped a couple of pillows under his midsection and prepared hump him.
"I'm ready," he proclaimed. "Ready for your dick, Mark."
His voice was brusque with lust, and I knew that he wanted it badly. After slipping the condom over my swollen cock and lubricating it, I climbed atop him and positioned my dick head against his asshole. My heart beat fast. I thought about how much I loved receiving a thick cock up my ass, and how wonderful Brad had made me feel. I wanted to make it as good for him as he had for me.
"Slide it in," Brad urged. "I'll be your gayboy. Fill me up."
I did so. I pushed my loins downward, and Brad's asshole opened around my cock. Brad emitted a long, low moan of pleasure as I entered him.
"Oh, Mark, that's wonderful. That's so wonderful," he murmured. "I want you inside me all the way. Fill me, Mark. Fill me and fuck me."
I had known him barely half a day, but I knew that I had found my twin soul. He was the other half I had been seeking for so long. "I love you, Brad," I whispered into his ear as I drove my hips downward and inserted my cock to the hilt in his ass.
"Oh, oh, yes," Brad moaned, shuddering with delight. "I'm really doing it. I'm taking it up my ass. It's my first time." Then he added, "I love you too, Mark."
His ass was rising to meet my thrusts, and I felt like he was gripping my cock with an asshole of steel. As I thrust into him, my dick quivered and bucked with anticipation of the rush to come.
"Oh, Brad, what you're doing to me," I exclaimed in a long groan of sexual exultation. "You're milking me off. Oh, Brad, your ass is so good."
"I love the way you fill me, Mark," he was chanting. "It's so good. Oh, yeah. You fill me so good."
I could not slow down; I could not stop my ass from driving my cock faster and faster. As Brad emitted a long, keening moan, the tingles of approaching orgasm began in the head of my cock. I could not have stopped. Much as I wanted to prolong the delicious agony. I could not hold off. Nor could Brad. He was coming from the fucking I was giving him, and I was willing to let it happen.
"I'm going to blast cum into you, Brad," I moaned. "I'm going to let fly."
"I'm getting my rocks off too," he howled. "Oh, it's so good, Mark. You fuck my gay ass so good."
I kept thrusting into those round, firm mounds of flesh as he bucked with orgasm and ejaculation beneath me. The tingling sensation in my cock's head grew until it was impossible to stop. I was committed to shoot my load.
"Here it comes," I shouted as the first salvo shot from my dick. My pelvis was contracting. Even my eyelids fluttered as the waves of orgasm swept over me. It was if my brain had exploded with a thousand nuclear bombs while millions of tiny rainbows swept from lobe to lobe. Everything was firing at once as I humped Brad's ass maniacally.
Still raptures of orgasm swept over me, and if I had been capable of conscious thought, I would have realized that Brad was experiencing a similar body rush. Contraction followed contraction as the shooting muscles at the base of my penis thrust my load into Brad's hot, tight ass.
After centuries, eons, eternities of half-conscious orgasm, my contractions slowed. I was still humping with my hips as though my body willed to massage every possible drop of fluid out of my balls and dick. Finally, I collapsed atop Brad, my breath coming in great ragged gasps and my heart pounding.
"Mark, that was incredible," Brad wheezed. I could feel his body quivering from the terrific exertion. "If this isn't love, I don't know what is."