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Nile woke, realizing he had fallen asleep. He had not meant to. He felt a sense of relief upon seeing Arden still laying beside him. The vampire was asleep as well. Nile looked at the clock. Still a few hours before Arden would awake and leave, going to wherever he spent the daylight. He gazed at the vampire lying there on his stomach, his face turned toward Nile. His lips were parted just enough to show a hint of fangs. The sheets were pushed down, barely covering his ass, and one leg was sticking out. His arms were spread upward, one underneath the pillow the other out beside it. Nile admired the pale skin and rippling muscles of the vampire’s body. He looked so beautiful in his sweet repose. Almost vulnerable. But that was a deception. Nile knew the vampire’s strength and power. Just hours ago Arden had arrived and without a word of greeting attacked Nile with a passionate kiss. That led to Nile being shoved into the bed, head down and ass in the air. He felt a stir of longing in his loins.

Nile smiled. He loved their nights together. The vampire came to visit as often as he could manage, which was more and more often as of late. The Agency had no clue where he was and there was a safe hidden entrance to the underground nearby that led him to whatever he went during the day. It was still a strange situation, but it seemed to be working quite well for them both. The past few months had been the best of Nile’s life.

A smile played at Nile’s lips and he felt a blush come to his cheeks. He felt a strange excitement at watching Arden sleep. The powerful vampire lying still and oblivious. Nile could take his time gazing at every inch of his lover’s beautiful form. He reached over, unable to resist the urge to touch the soft sweet skin. Just a gentle caress down his lover’s back. He paused as Arden shifted slightly and smiled in his sleep. Nile traced the vampire’s spine with his finger all the way down to the small of the back. He brushed the sheets down, exposing his lover’s beautiful firm ass. He splayed his finger and gently caressed both cheeks, a shiver of excitement coursing through his body. His cock was getting hard.

It occurred to Nile that out of all the times they had been together, Arden had always been the dominant one. Nile didn’t mind at all, he loved it when the powerful vampire took control. He loved giving himself over to Arden and being at his mercy. But he wondered what it would be like, just once, if the tables were turned. Could he be as dominant and delightfully rough with the vampire? Probably not. That wasn’t Nile’s style. No. But he could take control in his own way. He bit his lip, staring at the vampire. He had a hell of an erection and the sight and feel of Arden just lying there beside him was maddening.

Nile’s heart was pounding. He was somewhat scared that he would startle the vampire. If that happened, Arden might accidentally hurt him. But if it didn’t, if this worked, well it could turn out very nice for them both. So he took a chance and climbed over the vampire, straddling himself over Arden’s legs. He lowered himself down over Arden’s back, his cock pressed against the vampire’s ass. He kissed Arden’s neck. No response. He ran a hand down Arden’s side, caressing him. He kissed Arden’s neck again, then nibbled his ear. The vampire smiled. His eyes opened and he turned his gaze up to Nile.

“What in hell are you doing?” Arden said with a smirk.

Nile blushed, a grin spreading across his face. He sat up, straddling Arden. “Sorry…you just looked so beautiful.”

Arden’s smirk deepened and his blue eyes were shining. “Yeah?”

Nile smiled down at him. He moved to crawl off the vampire and Arden grabbed his arm with a gentle grip. The blue eyes looked disappointed.

“Where are you going?” Arden asked.

Nile smiled. “Giving you room to turn over.”

Arden smiled back at him. “Okay.” The vampire turned over, laying on his back and looking up at Nile with curiosity.

Nile positioned himself over the vampire again. Arden embraced him, pulling him close. Their lips met in a gentle kiss. “You don’t mind me waking you up?” Nile whispered.

“Mind? I never meant to fall asleep,” Arden said, his cocky smirk returning. “And I rather enjoyed being awakened that way.” He reached down, gently taking Nile’s erection into his hand. “So what are you up to? Because you’re definitely up to something.”

Nile gasped at the vampire’s touch. He smiled and kissed Arden again. “I…want to try something new.”

Arden raised a brow and gave a curious smile. “Yeah? What’d you have in mind?”

“I think it’s my turn to fuck bucak escort you,” Nile said.

Arden’s eyes widened and a blush came to his cheeks. “My sweet little human wants to take control?”

“Yes,” Nile said, kissing Arden’s lips.

Arden smiled, his blue eyes shining up at Nile. “This should be interesting.”

Nile kissed Arden’s lips, chin, neck, and worked his way down the vampire’s body. He closed his lips over a taunt nipple and Arden gave a gasp. Nile gently sucked and nibbled as he ran his hands up and down Arden’s body. Nile moved from the nipple, giving it one last playful bite. He moved down the vampire’s stomach kissing and teasing the skin with his tongue. He kissed Arden’s hip and moved down to his inner thigh.

“Goddammit, you’re a tease,” Arden said, breathless.

Nile gave a small laugh. He nuzzled into Arden’s inner thigh, enjoying the heat of his body and the sweet smell of him. He was so close to his cock, his testicles, and his sweet tight hole. But he focused on the sensitive part of the thigh just below the groin, kissing, nibbling, and teasing the skin with his tongue. Arden squirmed and whimpered beneath him. Nile raised up, indulging himself in the view. Arden had tiny beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. His cheeks were flushed and he was breathing hard. His cock had a raging erection and he was stroking himself.

Nile placed his hand on Arden’s, interrupting his strokes. Arden looked up with a mixed expression of frustration and curiosity. He allowed Nile to move his hand away. Nile moved up and kissed the head of Arden’s cock. The vampire quivered and moaned. Nile worked his way down the shaft with kisses and licks. He cupped the testicles, caressing them. Nile closed his lips around Arden’s cock and took him in, sucking hard in a steady slow motion.

“Fuck!” Arden said with a shiver. “Oh, God, Nile…” He placed his hands on Nile’s head, gripping his hair.

Nile moved his head up and down, caressing Arden’s head and shaft with his tongue. He took his time, giving it all he had, passion swelling in his heart. His own cock throbbing and begging for pleasure, but it was not time for that yet. Right now, he wanted to show Arden everything he was feeling.

“Oh God, Nile, I’m getting close…” Arden said.

Nile gently slid his mouth off of Arden’s cock and then slowly raised up to look at him. The vampire was breathing heavy, covered in a light layer of shimmering sweat. His face was red with passion. His blue eyes begging.

Nile positioned himself between Arden’s legs. His own cock was throbbing with hot desire. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself. He spread Arden’s legs and reached down to run a finger along his sweet entrance. Arden shuddered. The vampire was fighting himself, reaching down toward his erection, but hesitantly bringing his hands back up to his own chest. Finally, he gripped the sheets in frustration. Nile pushed a finger into his lover and Arden moaned beneath him.

“Oh God, Nile, I can’t take this,” Arden whispered. “Please, just fuck me.”

“Gotta get you ready,” Nile said, shoving his finger in and out.

“Goddammit, I’m a vampire, I can take it, now fuck me!” Arden begged.

Nile chuckled as he pulled his finger out and grabbed his cock. He lined it up to the vampire and gently pushed in. Arden moaned.

“Please, all the way,” Arden said. “I fucking need you.”

Nile thrust himself as deep as he could go, gasping at the warm, wet feel of his lover’s body around him. He was dizzy. He wanted to lose it right then and come, but it wasn’t time. He had to do this right. He took a deep breath. He settled into a slow deep rhythm. Then he leaned down over the vampire, their bodies close, Arden’s hard cock between them, caught in the motion. The vampire held Nile close, his fingernails digging into the sweet soft skin of his back. He reached up with one hand and grabbed the back of Nile’s head, pulling him in for a kiss. Their lips met in hunger, their tongues entwined. When they pulled away, Nile gave Arden’s lips a teasing lick. Arden pulled him in for another deep kiss. Their lips parted again and Arden’s blue eyes stared up at Nile in sweet, agonizing desire. Nile almost lost control.

Nile was still thrusting in a sweet deep motion. Taking his time, reveling in this new intimate feel of Arden’s body clenching around him. He reached up and caressed the vampire’s cheek. It was a sweet reverent gesture. Arden gazed at him with adoration and turned his lips to kiss Nile’s hand. Nile reached up to stroke the vampire’s soft hair. Nile bulancak escort leaned in for another kiss on Arden’s lips and then his cheek and neck just below the ear. He kissed the earlobe, tugging gently with his teeth. He whispered in the vampire’s ear. “You’re so beautiful.”

Arden shuddered beneath him. “Oh God, Nile…”

Nile raised up just enough to see the ache in Arden’s eyes. “I mean it, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“You’re beautiful,” Arden whispered. “So sweet, so innocent…”

Nile thrust a little harder and faster now. He knew he couldn’t last much longer. He was overcome with powerful emotions. This was not just about sex. It hadn’t been from the moment he had awakened and began to caress the vampire’s skin. This was so much more. His confession was at the tip of his tongue, but no…no not yet…it didn’t seem right to blurt it out in a moment of passion. He was showing his feelings right now. He would confess them later.

“I’m about to lose it,” Arden said, his entire body shaking with need.

Nile kissed Arden and then thrust into him with deeper strokes, concentrating on hitting that sweet spot with greater intensity. Arden’s muscles clenched tighter around him. The vampire’s nails dug into his back. Arden was close. The vampire was quivering all over, moaning, his eyes staring at Nile with longing agony. The vampire cried out, his back arched, nails scratching down Nile’s back. Hot white ribbons spilled from Arden’s cock, covering them both, bonding them in sticky sweet passion.

That was all Nile could take. He gushed inside Arden, giving the vampire everything, his seed, his heart, his soul. He cried out and let the vampire pull him closer. The stared into each other’s eyes in breathless surrender.

“Fuck,” Arden said. “That was…my God, Nile…”

Nile smiled. “Thank you.”

Arden looked at Nile, who was still deep inside him, and reached up to caress his hair. “Nile?”

“Yeah?” Nile said, smiling down.

“I love you too,” Arden said with a sweet smile.

Nile froze, his eyes wide. “How did…”

“How did I know?” Arden said. “You just made love to me. I’ve never been…worshiped like that.”

Nile blushed as he smiled. “You…love me?”

“I have since the moment I first tasted your blood,” Arden whispered. “I was just…scared to express it all. Hell, I was confused. I’ve never loved anyone before…not like this.”

Nile gently withdrew from Arden and laid down beside him. He gazed at the vampire, a smile on his face. “I’ve never been this happy before.”

Arden snuggled against Nile. “Neither have I.”

They lay there for several minutes, reveling in the sweet afterglow. Then Nile let out a sigh. “I don’t want you to leave. I wish you could stay here during the day.”

“I know,” Arden said. “I hate it when we’re apart.”

“I wish…things were different,” Nile said.

“Me too,” Arden said. “I wish you really could change the world. With all your innocent naive enthusiasm.”

Nile chuckled. “It was foolish wasn’t it? For me to even believe that it was possible.”

Arden raised a brow. “Foolish? No…I mean, I used to think so, but…I don’t think it’s a foolish dream. It’s a good dream. I only fear that it’s just a dream.”

Nile was about to respond when there was a loud noise. It took a moment for him to realize it was someone knocking at the front door. He gave Arden a fearful look. “Who the hell would be at my door at this hour?”

Arden’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know…”

Nile got up and threw on his robe. “Hide yourself.”

“I’ll be watching,” Arden said, getting up and slipping his pants on.

Nile took his time getting to the door. He looked through the peephole, shut his eyes tight and then looked again. Yep. Still there. He had seen exactly what he had thought. Everett holding a half empty bottle of whiskey.

“The fuck?” Nile muttered. He opened the door. “Everett? What the hell are you doing here?”

Everett reeked of whiskey. He was disheveled and unsteady on his feet. “Nile…I gotta talk to you…”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Nile said again.

Everett pushed his way in, taking a drink. He looked around. “Place looks nice.”

“Do I have to ask again what the hell you’re doing here?” Nile said, crossing his arms.

Everett looked at Nile and a smile came to his lips. He looked him up and down. “You look hot in that robe, Love.”

“Love?” Nile said, raising a brow. “Everett…get the fuck out of here and go back home to bulanık escort Renaldo.”

Everett sighed. “He left me.”

Nile was stunned. “Um…well, I’m sorry to hear that, but…this is not where you should be. You’re drunk. Go home.”

Everett took another drink. “No…you gotta hear what I have to say…”

“Oh for God’s sake, do I have to call Agents to get you out of here?” Nile asked.

“Just…listen,” Everett said, waving a hand in frustration. “I fucked up, Nile. I never should’ve left you…I just got scared. And I thought I wanted Renaldo so I rushed off and married him, but it fell apart. It all fucking fell apart.” Angry tears were in his eyes. “And ever since I saw you in that club, I’ve been missing you so much more. And don’t give me that bullshit about a fiance. There’s no hematologist named Arden at St. Francis. Hell, there’s no male hematologists, the only ones there are women. I know you made it up.”

“Everett, you should go home,” Nile said. “Sleep this off. We can talk tomorrow after you sober up, okay?”

“No,” Everett said, his eyes narrowing. “I’m fucking sick of holding back.” He stepped closer to Nile, right in front of him, inches away from his face.

“Everett…what are you doing?” Nile said, backing away only to run against the wall.

“I love you,” Everett said, the smell of whiskey unbearable. “I miss you. Don’t you miss me?”

“Everett, please leave,” Nile said, trying to mask his growing fear.

“You’re the best I’ve ever had,” Everett said, reaching up to caress Nile’s face.

Nile batted his hand away. “Stop it!”

Everett paused, his expression going from bewilderment to hurt to anger. He took a drink of his whiskey. “What the hell’s your problem? There was a time when you were begging me to come back to you.”

“That was a long time ago,” Nile said. “And I’ve met someone else.”

Everett smirked. “Bullshit.”

“I’m in love with someone else,” Nile said. “So please, just leave.”

“Yeah? Where is he then?” Everett asked. He reached down and pulled Nile’s robe string.

The moment the robe fell open, Everett was jerked backwards. His whiskey bottle fell with a thud on the carpet, the brown liquid spilling out. Arden had Everett from behind, one arm around his chest and the other on his head, exposing his throat.

“Fucking hell!” Everett shouted, struggling to get away from his attacker. “Who the fuck are you!”

“You don’t fucking mess with my love,” Arden growled. His fangs plunged into Everett’s throat and Everett screamed.

Nile stood in shock, his robe still open. Blood was spilling out of Everett’s throat in red ribbons. Everett struggled and the flesh tore. Arden latched on hard and was slurping the blood as he growled. Everett was still screaming.

“Stop!” Nile shouted. “You’ll kill him, Arden! Stop!”

Arden’s eyes were full of pure hunger. He appeared not to even hear Nile’s cries. He kept drinking and Everett kept screaming. Everett’s face turned very pale and his screams began to subside. His eyes were still wide with terror.

“Stop!” Nile said, rushing over to Arden, trying to pull the vampire away. But it was no use. Arden was too strong and didn’t even seem to notice Nile.

Everett collapsed in Arden’s arms. Arden tore away from Everett’s throat, his face covered in blood. He licked his lips and there was a terrifying glaze to his eyes. Nile backed away. Everett fell from Arden’s arms into a lifeless heap on the floor. Nile looked at the wide open dead eyes and the blood and began to retch.

Arden’s eyes blinked and he shook his head. He looked at Nile puzzled. Nile backed away, falling down as he tried to get away from the vampire. He was retching. Arden was confused and started to reach out to Nile and then he saw Everett on the floor and the realization hit him.

“What have you done?!” Nile screamed.

“I…I was protecting you,” Arden said. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to kill him…I lost control. Oh God, Nile, I’m sorry. The blood lust…”

The vampire tried to wipe the blood from his face, he stepped toward Nile and Nile cowered away, vomiting on the floor.

“Don’t, please…” Nile whimpered.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” Arden said, tears streaming down from his blue eyes. “I’d never hurt you. I love you, Nile. Please don’t be afraid…please forgive me…”

The door burst open. There was shouting. Arden fell to his knees, convulsing from the tasers. The Agents put him in shackles. He didn’t fight them, he just stared at Nile with scared blue eyes.

An Agent had hauled Nile to his feet. He was talking, saying something about neighbors having heard shouts and screams. Asking who the dead man was, how the vampire had gotten in, if Nile was hurt, what had happened? Nile didn’t hear any of it. He watched Arden being dragged away. Their eyes locked on each other in agonizing silence.

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Almost 20, I had finally come to grips with what I was. Gay. That was not as accepted a few decades ago as it is now, nor was it as open, but I had surely no problem in finding partners back in the early 1970’s. All I had to do was stand still for a minute.

*

Chapter One: Innocence Lost

What was so appealing about me back then? I was not overly handsome, but my fashionable-at-the-time long brown hair looked good on me. I had a trim and fit body, and after I stopped lifting weights, my 5’10” 175 pound frame was not imposing at all.

The thing that I did have going for me back then was my boyish, innocent look. I looked to be barely in my teens despite being old enough to vote and drink in my state, and it didn’t take long for me to figure out that this was what made me attractive to many older men.

This look was accentuated by my stunted growth in all areas sexual. My body hair was virtually non-existent, and my genitals looked practically untouched by puberty either. While this lack of development was the source of a world of humiliation throughout my teenage years, I had come to grips with the fact that this was the way it was going to be.

I determined that it was a senseless waste of time to pout about having a tiny dick; not when there were others with real handicaps and obstacles they had to deal with. In the grand scope of things, a skinny 4″ penis wasn’t the end of the world. Besides, it worked as well or better than most men’s.

After I had determined that there were a lot of guys who found me quite desirable, and their interest – or lust in many cases – became a turn-on for me as well. I began to play up my shy and innocent side, which wasn’t all that tough to do. Basically, I really was shy, even if my innocence was a thing of the past.

Chapter Two: Pickup game.

I was at a basketball court which was part of a playground near where I lived, just shooting hoops to pass the time on a warm spring day, when I saw a middle-aged man approach me.

He was wearing a gray tank top and matching shorts, and when I acknowledged his presence he introduced himself and asked if he could join me.

“Sure,” I said, shaking the hand that was offered. “My name’s Tim.”

“Nice to meet you Timmy,” Adam said, and we began taking turns shooting.

That evolved into a one-on-one game, which started out friendly, but became more competitive as it went on. We were leaning and grinding into each other as we drove to the hoop and bumped as we fought for rebounds.

A good clean game with a lot of contact, and as we neared the 21 needed for one of us to win, I had finally determined something I had suspected. Adam was gay.

Nothing he did or said, but more of a general feeling that I had. Picking up on that was a trait that I had somehow acquired as of late, and I was rarely wrong. Maybe it was something about the way he looked at me and the way he leaned his body into me as he backed in to the hoop. Perhaps it was the way he didn’t shy away from our profusely-sweating bodies making contact, but more or less trying to initiate it.

Either way, I didn’t mind it, and did my best to make it easy for him. He had a lot of traits that I liked; he was about twice my age and was rather aggressive. He was about 6′ tall and maybe 180 pounds, and he had a real hairy body as well. When I finally won the game with a reverse lay-up; a shot that Adam tried so desperately to stop that his efforts sent me skidding to the asphalt, my suspicions grew.

“Great shot, Timmy!” Adam said, reaching down and helping me to my feet. “Didn’t mean that foul.”

“No problem,” I said, my only injury a slight scrape on my knee, which did not escape Adam’s attention.

“Ow! That looks like it must sting,” he noted, and although I told him it was fine, he insisted.

“Look, I live right over there,” Adam said, pointing toward a house on the other side of the fence near the school. “Come home with me and I’ll fix you up. You could go for a soda about now I’ll bet. Unless you’ve got places to go – people to see.

“No, I don’t have any plans.”

Chapter Three: Adam’s place.

Adam’s house was a nice split level with a deck that looked out at the schoolyard. He brought me out onto the deck while he went back inside, and then returned with a little first aid kit.

“Sit down and let me get this scrape cleaned up,” Adam said, directing me to a chair while he knelt in front of me.

I noticed a pair of binoculars sitting on the shelf of the gas grill, and that made me wonder whether he had been watching me with them. That thought turned me on in a strange way – being checked out like that.

“This doesn’t look too bad,” Adam said. “This might sting a little.”

The scrape was nothing, and that was something I had already known, figuring correctly that it was an excuse to get me over to his place. I made a little sound as Adam applied the disinfectant to the abrasion, even though I hardly felt it, and he apologized while continuing the first aid.

He was doing the most through bergama escort job of cleaning a scrape in the history of medicine, I thought to myself while watching him gingerly dab at my knee. He was holding my calf with his other hand, and I felt his fingers stroking the fine down on the inside of my calf, which was the extent of my leg hair.

I felt myself get hard from this subtle touching, and as I looked down at Adam, I took inventory of the guy who I figured to be making an effort to get in my pants pretty soon.

Probably in his 40’s, I figured, and married too, judging by the pictures of a middle aged woman and young daughter that we had passed on the way outside. His hair was thinning on top, but he had plenty to spare on his upper torso, as all of the skin that his tank top exposed was covered with an abundance of dark brown hair.

“Probably better to leave it uncovered and let it get air,” Adam suggested. “It might heal better that way.”

I nodded in agreement, fidgeting as the man held onto my leg.

“Boy, no wonder you were out jumping me,” Adam said, both of his hands now on my calf. “You’ve got really strong legs.”

I tried to look nervous as Adam’s hands kneaded the backs of my calves, and I saw that his eyes, first focused on my face for my reaction, were now occupied elsewhere. Specifically, at the crotch of my shorts, where the head of my dick was straining at the fabric of my shorts like a little tent pole.

I pretended to be embarrassed, bringing my hands down over the bulge to cover up the area a little, but not so much as to completely block Adam’s view.

My modesty caused a tiny smile to form at the corners of Adam’s mouth, and he proceeded to work my calf muscles with even more enthusiasm.

“Feel good?” he asked, trying to look through my hands for the answer.

“Uh – I guess.”

“Too bad my wife is out of town,” Adam mused. “After a workout like we just had, my body is really aching, and she gives the best massages in the world. You ever have a girl give you a massage, Timmy?”

“Uh – no.”

“Or a man?” he asked, and I made my body spasm slightly after he spoke.

“Uh – what time is it?” I asked with a quivering voice.

“Early,” Adam assured me. “You aren’t afraid off me, are you Timmy?”

“No,” I said. “It’s just that…”

“Well, why don’t you stick around and spend the rest of the day with me?” Adam asked. “We can cook burgers if you’re hungry.”

Adam looked so desperate that I felt a little guilty in stringing him along, but it added so much to the excitement that I couldn’t help myself.

“I dunno,” I answered. “My Mom will wonder where I am.”

“Call her,” Adam said, scrambling to his feet and helping me up. “Call her and tell her that you’re at a friend’s house. You are, of course.”

Chapter Four: Phone home.

“Hi Mom,” I said into the phone, while on the other end the mechanical voice gave the time and temperature. “Uh – I’m going to be at friend’s house for a little while. What? Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m going to eat here. Adam. I’m at Adam’s house. No, you haven’t met him. He’s in my gym class. Okay. Bye.”

“Good!” Adam said excitedly after I hung up. “I’m really glad to have you stick around with me. Kinda lonely here without my wife here. That was good what you said about us being in a class at school together.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know what she would have said if I told her I was at a place with a stranger.”

“Of course, we aren’t strangers, not anymore,” Adam reminded me. “What grade are you in, anyway Timmy?”

“I’m a sophomore,” I informed Adam, which was true, having started my second year at Union College a month earlier.

“I promised you a drink,” Adam said, opening the refrigerator. “Coke or 7 UP?”

“Coke is fine.”

Adam gave me a soda and leaned up against the counter next to me. I was self-conscious about being in my sweaty and dirty T-shirt and apologized for it.

“Take it off,” Adam suggested. “We’re about the same size, and I’ve got a whole bunch of t-shirts I never wear anymore. I’ll get you one.”

I shrugged and pulled it off, happy to be rid of the damp garment, even though I was pretty sure of the reason he suggested that.

Adam left the kitchen, and after a minute he called out to me. I wandered around the corner and met him in the living room. He had something in his hand, but it wasn’t a shirt. He also had shed his tank top, and motioned me over to the couch.

“Sit down Timmy,” Adam directed, and sat next to him on the couch.

In response he moved right up next to me, the hairs on his leg tickling as they grazed my skin.

“I found these while I was looking for a shirt,” he explained. “A young stud like you might appreciate this kind of thing. What do you think of this?”

Adam handed me a Polaroid, which showed a slender woman naked to the waist. She had large pendulous breasts and was posing for the snapshot with a bottle of beer in her hand.

“Well?”

“She’s real pretty,” biga escort I commented, and I realized that the woman in the snapshot was the same woman posed with Adam in the photos around the house. “Is that your wife?”

“Yeah, that’s from a few years ago – more like a dozen or so,” Adam said proudly. “Quite the rack on her, huh?”

Adam proceeded to show me photographs, one at a time, and each one more graphic than the one before. Now there was one with his wife riding on top of somebody I guessed to be him, judging by the hirsute torso.

“How did you take these pictures?” I asked.

“The guy who was with us took them,” Adam explained. “That was back when we were swingers – you know – threesomes and swapping?”

“Wow!” I exclaimed.

“Of course, with all the stuff you kids do now, this probably seems really tame. You know, with all the hippie stuff and free love?”

I shrugged my shoulders, confessing that I wasn’t reaping any of the benefits of the so-called promiscuous times we were living in.

“You mean you’re still a virgin?” Adam asked, and I nodded.

The next picture showed Adam’s wife looking up at Adam, who was looking down on her licking the head of his cock. His cock was not overly exceptional in terms of size – probably just a bit longer than thicker than the norm, but that still put him miles ahead of me in that department.

“Gee, is that you?” I asked, looking over at Adam and then at the picture.

“Pretty lucky guy, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said with awe in my voice. “You’ve got a big dick.”

Chapter Five: Picture time is over.

“Oh,” Adam said, momentarily stunned at my comment. “Not really. Maybe it’s the camera angle or something.”

The next picture showed his wife with half of his cock in her mouth, and I squirmed in response to the picture, and to Adam’s hand, with was on my bare thigh.

“Boy Timmy, if my wife were here and got a look at you, you wouldn’t be a virgin much longer,” Adam assured me, handing me the rest of the pictures. “Wouldn’t you like to lose your virginity to somebody like that?”

“I sure would.”

“She would go crazy over you,” he continued as his hand went to my bare shoulder. “She’s always complaining about me, and how hairy I am. Says it feels all scratchy to her.”

It worked for me, I thought to myself, while trying to concentrate on looking at the picture in my hand, which was a picture of his wife with another cock in her mouth, but not Adam’s.

“But you, on the other hand, Timmy,” Adam said, his hand running over my chest. “You, she’d go crazy over. Your body is so smooth. You’re virtually hairless.”

The back of his hand nudged my arm backwards, and his fingers briefly tweaked at the tiny nest of hairs under my arm before letting his hand slide down my body, and effortlessly worked his hand into my shorts.

“Hardly any hair down here either,” he loudly hissed, his hand having slipped under the elastic of my shorts and was now stroking the extremely modest tuft of hair that grew above my dick.

“Don’t be scared Timmy,” Adam said as his hand found my dick.

For my part, I squirmed and pretended to look around for a means of escape, my eyes bulging as wide as I could manage.

“You like it, Timmy,” Adam said after I started to protest. “Look at the next picture. No – the next one.”

Adam’s fingers massaged the base of my dick while I fumbled with the photos, finally coming up to the one he wanted to see. The one of Adam. He had a fuller scalp back then, but the main focus of the shot was that of the cock Adam was inhaling, while the owner of that tool was busy gobbling Adam’s.

“Looks like fun, doesn’t it?” Adam asked, and when I shook my head he let out a little laugh.

“C’mon Timmy. I saw how you got excited when I was rubbing your legs before, and now look how hard you are. Your penis is so hard it could cut glass. You want me to do that to you, don’t you? You’d like me to put your dick in my mouth, wouldn’t you? Imagine what that would feel like.”

His other hand grabbed mine, pulling it down to his crotch and onto the bulge, squeezing my hand into it.

“I’m excited too, see?” Adam told me, and now was working my shorts down my thighs.

“Knew you didn’t have anything underneath,” Adam said, leering as he slowly shook his head while he looked down at my genitals, now fully exposed. “What a perfect little man you are.”

“Enough pictures,” Adam announced, jumping up off the couch and pulling me to my feet. “Let’s get more comfortable.

So with me being led by the hand, my shorts sliding further down my legs with each restricted step, I was brought into his bedroom.

Chapter Six: Adam’s bedroom.

Adam brought me into a bedroom that was obviously decorated with a woman’s touch, and after he pulled down the comforter and say me in the bed, he lifted my legs to get my shorts off, and then undid my sneakers before coaxing my socks off.

Standing in front of me, he kicked off his own socks and stood there, bornova escort waiting for me to pull down his shorts. When I didn’t, he brought my hands up to the elastic. I looked at him with a look that tried to convey the fact that I was shy and afraid.

“Go ahead, Timmy.”

As slowly as I could, I tugged down the grey shorts, exposing the thick bush that surrounded his unit, before his cock came into view. Brown and rather thick, I revealed his manhood with an excruciating slowness, as Adam shifted his weight from side to side.

When the shorts had been brought down far enough, his erect member swung upward and toward my face. I feigned shock at his cock bouncing in front of my face, and turned my head as if I was trying not to look at it.

Smiling, Adam eased me onto my back and climbed in bed next to me, his hand finding my stiff stem which was pointing toward the ceiling.

“Nothing to be scared about,” Adam said in a reassuring voice, and I noted his rapid breathing and the lust in his eyes as he sensed my fear. “Reach over and grab mine.”

I shook my head no, and bit my lower lip and I tried to not the cum, since Adam’s fingers were squeezing my dick as he pulled on it.

“You must have done this with one of your friends at some point,” Adam suggested. “We all do that sort of thing at least once. Haven’t you?”

“Once,” I confessed. “Me and my friend Paul did – you know.”

“Jerked each other off?” Adam asked, and when I nodded, he asked me whether I had liked that.

“Yeah.”

“Did you like jerking him off?”

“Well – sort of.”

“Then just reach down and hold mine,” Adam said, and when I did, feeling his hot and throbbing cock as I gripped it in my fist, he let out a groan of relief.

“Oh, that’s it,” Adam exclaimed, moving his hips as I held him. “Am I built like your friend Paul?”

I looked over at the stiff cock in my hand and shook my head.

“No,” I said solemnly. “Paul’s dick was big, but yours is even bigger.”

This excited Adam, who began thrusting back and forth into my fist while trying to get a good grip on my dick. He was having a problem figuring out how best to do it, since when he wrapped his fist around mine it all but disappeared.

Finally settling on stroking it with his thumb and index finger, his tempo quickened, which caused my orgasm to rush up on me. When I groaned and started spurting all over my chest and stomach, it seemed to startle Adam, but he recovered enough to allow me to cover my chest and stomach with a copious load.

“Wow!” Adam exclaimed as he continued to tug on my now-withered dick, coaxing every drop of seed out of me. “You must have been really horny to cum so fast. You liked that, didn’t you Timmy? Better than doing it to yourself?”

“I guess,” I answered quietly.

“Now how about taking care of me?”

Chapter Seven: Taking care of Adam.

I got on my knees next to Adam on the bed, while he rolled over onto his back. His cock was still hard and now rested on his stomach, waiting for my attention. Adam had his hands linked behind his head, watching me with interest. As I knelt there, I felt the semen start to dribble down my chest, and looked around for something to wipe myself off with.

“Do me a favor and let it stay there,” Adam said, after I made him aware of my what I was looking for. “You look so incredible like this. Never saw anybody pop a load like that before. You must have been storing that up for quite a while.”

I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at Adam’s body and the cock he was expecting me to service. Reaching my hand down, I let my finger slide up the length of his turgid member, causing him to squirm and smile.

“Going to tease me, Timmy?” he asked. “That’s good. I like that.”

“Can I – I mean – would it be alright if I touched you in other places first?” I asked.

“Other places?” Adam replied, confused by my question. “Sure. You can touch me anywhere you want.”

Acting tentatively, I put my hand on Adam’s ankle and ran my hand up his legs, reveling in the touch of the thick coarse hair that covered just about every inch of him except his feet and hands.

As I did this, I looked up to Adam for approval, with an expression on my face that suggested I was doing something naughty. His expression was that of a cat being petted, and he practically purred as I did the same thing to his other leg.

“Oh, that feels so nice,” Adam said, exhaling contentedly after I had rubbed his legs a few more times before moving up his thighs and around his cock to his stomach.

I noticed that his cock had begun to twitch while my hands moved over him, and now that I was raking the thick, rich pelt that coated his upper torso, a tiny pearl of cum had formed on the tip of his glans.

My fingers combed the mat of hair, and I delighted in the way they seemed to disappear in the dense growth, and Adam seemed to agree, as his body coiled and writhed under my touch.

Letting my hands slid over to his armpits, I did the same to his underarm hair, which was only distinguishable by the fact that the fur grew even denser there than on the rest of him. His armpit hair was so profuse that I had trouble getting my fingers through it, and had to resort to pulling on the moist tufts, which stirred the musky and manly scent up to me.

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Now that the implications of this unplanned sojourn were fully understood, it was younger man who took control of the situation. This was natural, considering that Alex had little sexual experience with men and didn’t know what to do.

“Let’s take it slow,” said Rob, smiling. “You have a lot of catching up to do, but we have all night.”

Alex felt that he was completely at Rob’s mercy now. And as pliable as putty.

With little fuss Rob removed his socks and pushed Alex toward the side of the bed. When Alex sat, Rob pushed his briefs over his hips. He didn’t mind showing off his body. His penis sprang out from between his legs, long and beautiful, with a nicely shaped circumcised head. He had a small bush of dark pubic hair, almost black, which he kept trimmed, and an impressively large set of balls hanging down between his thighs like a pair of goose eggs. He was a bit of a tease and decided to put on a little show for Alex.

“Here’s my dick, man. It’s all yours if you want it.”

Alex couldn’t take his eyes from the lower half of Rob’s body.

“I bet you used to watch the boys in the locker room at school, right? I bet you liked to see their dicks. Well here’s a nice dick for you.” Rob pushed the front of his body forward, letting his penis bob up and down, and he teased Alex by emphasizing the word dick every time he said it.

Alex couldn’t remember ever seeing another man’s erection balçova escort before and stared at Rob’s. It had a slight upward curve and the dusky head was very large, with a deeply indented slit. “God, it’s beautiful,” he murmured.

“Yeah, I bet you have a nice one, too. You gonna let me see it?” Without waiting for an answer, Rob knelt on the floor beside the bed and began to tug at Alex’s trousers. Alex made no objection and Rob took his time, rubbing his hands over Alex’s thighs and tugging playfully on the zipper. After a few minutes he got Alex’s fly open and eased his cock out.

“Jeesus,” said Rob, impressed. “Man, are you hung!” Alex’s organ, when erect, was every bit of eight inches long and very thick. Like Rob, he was circumcised and had a lovely round German helmet that flared out impressively. Unlike Rob, Alex had never trimmed his pubic hair and his bush grew luxuriantly like a golden jungle between his legs, spilling over the tops of his thighs and inching up his belly towards his navel. Now it was Rob’s turn to grow excited as he admired Alex’s sexual equipment.

“Alex, you are so fucking hot, do you know that? I figured you had a big cock, but Jeez! Look at that thing!”

Alex couldn’t help but feel a little proud hearing this compliment and leaned back to let Rob examine him. His penis was standing up like a flagpole in his lap now, and it was so engorged bandırma escort with blood that the head was shiny and purple.

Rob reached forward and grasped the shaft of Alex’s organ in his hand. He squeezed it firmly and stroked it up and down a few times. “I want to be the first guy to go down on you, okay? Sit back and let me blow you a little.” Before Alex could think of anything to say, Rob was down on his knees. “God, you smell good,” he whispered. He put his nose to Alex’s erection and sniffed at it. “You smell like a real man.”

Rob liked to watch a partner’s facial expression when he went down on him, and he was especially interested in seeing Alex’s reaction. Keeping his eyes raised to Alex’s face, he opened his mouth and ran his tongue over the head of the penis, letting his tongue glide around the ridge where the head joined the shaft.

“Jee-sus Christ,” Alex gasped.

Rob licked the slit on the head, trying to taste any juice that might be there. Then he worked some saliva on it and began to move up and down, letting the big mushroom head slide in and out of his mouth. This motion caused Alex to shut his eyes and groan. With the skill of an experienced dicksucker Rob tightened his lips around the shaft and began to suck.

Alex had had a few blow jobs before, but nothing like this. Rob’s mouth felt like liquid velvet on his organ and the sensation bayraklı escort was astonishing! Judy would give Alex a blow job occasionally, but she always acted as though it were an unpleasant task. She would take a few inches of his organ into her mouth and make a face as if it were distasteful, and she never let him ejaculate that way. Rob, on the other hand, was sucking him all the way down with great relish and using his tongue to stimulate him at the same time. Normally he didn’t have any trouble controlling himself, but in his present state of excitement he knew he couldn’t take this kind of stimulation for very long. He was worried what would happen if he started to ejaculate.

“If you keep doing that I’m going to come,” he whispered.

Rob released Alex’s penis from his mouth. “We’re not ready for that. I don’t want you to come yet. But I just had to taste you. You are so fucking beautiful!”

“I never felt anything like that in my life!” whispered Alex.

“Yeah. Most girls don’t know how to suck dick. You need a man to do it right,” Rob said, smiling.

“Do you blow a lot of guys?”

“Whenever I get the chance.”

“Do you blow your boyfriend?”

“Sure. Your dick is about twice as big, though.”

Rob took Alex’s penis in his mouth again, more gently this time, and let the long pole of meat slide all the way to the back of this throat. He held it in his mouth that way for a moment before letting it go, trailing a string of saliva. He wanted Alex to pump a load of cum into his mouth, but that would come in due time.

“Stand up,” said Rob, red in the face. “We need to get all your clothes off. I want to see everything you’ve got.”

* * *

(To be continued)

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Sybille saß in der Küche und konnte kaum glauben was sich gerade zwischen ihr und ihrem Sohn abgespielt hatte. War das tatsächlich passiert? Hatte ihr Sohn sie wirklich ertappt? Dem Gefühl nach zu urteilen, welches sich in ihr breit gemacht hatte, war es wohl so. Sie hatte sehr intime Gedanken mit ihrem Sohn ausgetauscht und das bescherte ihr nun ein Gefühl von Scham. Allerdings war da noch etwas Anderes, das sie verspürte. Es war eine Art Unsicherheit die sie befiel aber das war verständlich nach den jüngsten Enthüllungen.

Da war aber noch diese andere Sache. Hatte ihr Sohn das auch ernst gemeint? Wollte er wirklich, dass sie beide es miteinander taten, wie er das ausgedrückt hatte? Dabei fiel ihr ein, dass er noch ganz andere Wörter zu ihr gesagt hatte. Da waren solche dabei wie „ficken“, „blasen“, und dergleichen mehr. Wieso hatte sie zugelassen, dass ihr Sohn auf diese Art mit ihr sprach? Ein Sohn redet doch nicht so mit seiner Mutter, dachte sie bei sich. Sie musste sich zwar selbst eingestehen, dass ja alles gestimmt hatte, was ihr Sohn zu ihr gesagt hatte, aber dennoch sollte sie vielleicht versuchen ihn davon abzuhalten. Aber wie auch immer die Situation aussehen würde, sie wollte auf keinen Fall unvorbereitet sein auf den Abend.

Was sie also tun würde, war, sich auf jeden Fall vorzubereiten denn einfach so ihrem Sohn gegenüber zu treten wenn er dann tatsächlich zu ihr kommen würde, das ginge doch nicht. Und da es bald Abend werden würde machte sie sich auf ins Badezimmer. Dort angekommen wurde sie erst mal ihre Klamotten los und betrachtete sich selbst eine Weile im Spiegel. Selbstkritisch beäugte sie ihre eigenen Rundungen und kam dann doch zu dem Schluss, dass diese an den richtigen Stellen zu finden waren an ihrem Körper. Sie konnte sich doch sehen lassen, meinte sie. Da hing auch nichts. Die Blickfänge ihrer Figur waren ihre geilen, prallen Titten und ihr nicht zu großer Arsch. Würde ihr Sohn sich ihre Titten und ihren Arsch greifen? Würde er ihren Körper erforschen wollen, ihre Titten mit beiden Händen bearbeiten und auch mit ihrem Arsch spielen? Diese Gedanken machten Sybille plötzlich geil aber im nächsten Moment schämte sie sich ihrer auch schon wieder.

Jetzt ging es erst mal ans duschen. Sybille nahm eine lange, ausgiebige Dusche und verwendete dabei wohl duftende Utensilien. Ja, wenn schon, dann wollte sie doch schön duften, wieso denn nicht?

Sie war nun dabei das Bad wieder zu verlassen mit nur einem Handtuch um ihren noch teilweise nassen Körper gewickelt, als ihr plötzlich ihr Sohn entgegenkam. Andreas ging auf sie zu mit lockeren Schritten und einem Grinsen im Gesicht, welches bei Sybille ein leichtes Unbehagen auslöste. Instinktiv nahm sie das Handtuch, das ihren Körper kaum bedeckte etwas fester in den Griff. Ihr Sohn hatte nun ohnehin schon einen guten Blick auf die Ausschnittpartie ihrer Titten und auf ihre langen Beine und ihre hübschen Füße. Sybilles Arme waren natürlich auch nicht bedeckt und so fühlte sie sich doch ein wenig nackt in der Gegenwart ihres Sohnes.

Andreas sah sich seine Mutter von oben bis unten an und seine Blicke blieben Sybille auch nicht verborgen. Im Gegenteil, Andreas machte sich keine Mühe zu verbergen, dass er sie offen beäugte. Seine Blicke schienen Sybille zu durchdringen, jedenfalls hatte sie das Gefühl es wäre so. Sie wurde ein wenig rot, blieb aber stehen und wartete ab was ihr Sohn nun machen würde. Er kam auf sie zu mit offenen Armen und signalisierte seiner Mutter auf diese Weise, dass er eine Umarmung wollte. Natürlich breitete auch Sybille ihre Arme aus um ihren Sohn zu umarmen. Welche gute Mutter täte das nicht? Sie schlang also ihre Arme um Andreas’ Hals und das war es auch was er sich erhofft hatte. Andreas hatte nun ungehinderten Zugriff auf das Handtuch, welches Sybilles Körper spärlich bedeckte. Mit einem Ruck hatte er es schnell von ihrem Körper runter gerissen und warf es durch die offene Tür zurück ins Badezimmer. Sybille hatte keine Chance zu reagieren und bevor sie wusste wie ihr geschah stand sie auch schon völlig nackt vor ihrem Sohn da.

„Andreas, was machst du denn?!…“ schrie sie schockiert auf.

Es war eine Sache ihrem Sohn ein paar Blicke auf ihren Körper zu gewähren als sie noch bekleidet war aber es war eine andere Sache ihm jetzt total nackt gegenüber zu stehen. Sofort versuchte sie sich so gut es ging mit ihren Händen zu bedecken. Einen Arm nahm sie hoch um ihre Titten vor den Blicken ihres Sohnes zu schützen und mit der anderen Hand verdeckte sie ihre Fotze so gut es ging.

„Ich will dir nur helfen deine Hemmungen mir gegenüber fallen zu lassen. Davon hast du doch schon geträumt. Komm, jetzt kannst du es Wirklichkeit werden lassen. Lass mich dich sehen, lass mich dich ganz sehen…“ erklärte Andreas.

Sybille ataşehir escort sah ihn etwas ängstlich an. Ihr Herz klopfte heftig. Sie würde nachgeben müssen, was sollte sie denn jetzt sonst tun? Ihr Sohn hatte Recht mit dem was er sagte und diese Erkenntnis war für sie wie eine schwere Wahrheit, die an die Tür zu ihrem Kopf hämmerte. Noch wollte oder konnte sie das aber nicht einfach akzeptieren. Die Entscheidung wurde ihr jedoch abgenommen.

„Nimm deine Hände da weg, Mutter, komm schon!“ sagte Andreas nachdem einige Augenblicke verstrichen waren.

Ohne etwas zu sagen nahm Sybille ganz langsam ihre Hände von ihrem Körper. Sie sah Andreas an um zu sehen wie er sie ansehen würde und natürlich wohin er schauen würde. Ihre Atmung war nun schneller, passend zu ihrem Herzklopfen.

Andreas’ Augen wurden etwas größer, genau wie die Ausbuchtung in seiner Hose, die nun deutlich sichtbar wurde. Er leckte sich über die Lippen und starrte seine Mutter mit einem gierigen Blick an. Zum ersten mal konnte er direkt die prallen Titten seiner Mutter sehen, den flachen Bauch, die geilen Schenkel und natürlich ihre goldene Mitte. Ihre rasierte Fotze mit dem Streifen blonder Schamhaare darüber war hammergeil.

Als Sybille merkte wohin die Blicke ihres Sohnes wanderten durchfuhr sie ein perverser Schauer der Erregung. Da stand sie nun und gewährte ihm einen langen und ausführlichen Blick auf ihren heissen Körper. Er konnte nun schauen soviel er wollte, konnte ihren Körper betrachten wie es ihm gefiel. Welche Mutter stellt sich so zur Schau für ihren Sohn? Eine geile Mutter, das war die Antwort auf diese Frage. Sybille konnte einfach nicht mehr ankämpfen gegen diese Gedanken. Es war offensichtlich, dass sie scharf wurde. Ihre Nippel standen hervor und sie spürte wie sie langsam feucht wurde im Schritt.

„Du hast einen geilen Körper, Mutter, ich möchte ein bisschen damit spielen…“

Ohne eine Reaktion von ihr abzuwarten ging Andreas seiner Mutter mit beiden Händen an die Titten. Er begann sich langsam und vorsichtig mit ihnen zu beschäftigen. Sanft knetete er die Brüste seiner Mutter durch und sie konnte es kaum fassen aber doch gingen wohlige Schauer durch ihren Körper und sie atmete schwer auf, einerseits vor Erregung und andererseits auch aus einer Art Erleichterung. Erleichterung darüber, dass es nun endlich vollbracht war, zumindest der erste Kontakt dieser Art mit ihrem Sohn und es würde gewiss noch mehr folgen. Sie schloss also die Augen und ließ es geschehen. Sie ließ zu, dass ihr Sohn sich ihre Brüste griff und damit machte was er wollte.

Andreas, der nun mitbekam, dass seine Mutter endlich begann seine Behandlung zu genießen, wurde ein wenig fordernder und griff nun richtig zu. Er walkte die Titten seiner Mutter richtig durch und begann nun auch sich mit ihren Nippeln zu beschäftigen. Er nahm sie zwischen Daumen und Zeigefinger und drückte sie ein wenig und zog auch etwas daran.

Diese Griffe ihres Sohnes, quittierte Sybille mit einem etwas unterdrückten Stöhnen. Sie verzog ein wenig das Gesicht wegen der Härte seiner Griffe und biss sich leicht auf die Unterlippe, tat aber nichts um die Aktionen von Andreas zu unterbrechen. Im Gegenteil, sie ließ ihn gewähren und sie musste sich auch selbst mehr und mehr eingestehen, wie geil sie wurde durch seine Berührungen. So war sie schon lange nicht mehr von einem Mann berührt worden und die Tatsache, dass es ihr Sohn war, der sie so berührte, störte sie das jetzt noch? War er nicht der Mann in diesem Haus? War er es nicht, von dem sie träumte, den sie wollte? Darüber hatten sie beide doch gesprochen und außerdem war er doch ihr Liebling, ihr Sohnemann. Sie könnte ihn doch nicht zurückweisen.

Von all’ diesen Gedanken und von den Berührungen ihres Sohnes wurde ihr fast schon ein wenig schwindelig im Kopf. Sie öffnete die Augen und um sich ein wenig Halt zu verschaffen schlang sie ihre Arme um den Hals ihres Sohnes.

Andreas fuhr fort mit der Erkundung des Körpers seiner Mutter. Er ließ nun seine rechte Hand an ihrer Seite nach unten gleiten und fuhr dann über ihren Bauch. Sybille zuckte etwas zusammen, sah aber Andreas die ganze Zeit über in die Augen und öffnete wie automatisch ihren Mund ein wenig, was ausgelöst schien durch das schwere Atmen. Es war allerdings auch die Erwartung der nächsten Berührung die unweigerlich kommen würde, während sich Andreas’ Hand weiter nach unten hin bewegte.

Schließlich erreichte er ihre Fotze und ließ erstmal nur seinen Mittelfinger ein wenig durch die feuchte Spalte seiner Mutter gleiten. Es wurde nichts gesagt. Es war ein stillschweigendes Spiel und doch gaben Andreas und Sybille laute von sich. Er ein zufriedenes, verspieltes Knurren und sie ein jetzt etwas heftiger gewordenes escort ataşehir Stöhnen.

Andreas baute dieses Spiel nun ein wenig aus. Er fing an die Fotze seiner Mutter etwas kräftiger zu massieren. Er ließ seine Finger um ihr Liebesloch herum gleiten und bescherte seiner Mutter auf diese Weise ungeheure Wonne. Sybille konnte sich kaum noch halten, da steckte ihr Andreas auch schon einen, dann zwei Finger in ihre Fotze und begann sie hin und her zu bewegen. Sybille spürte nun einen Orgasmus herannahen, während ihr Sohn weiter kräftig ihre Fotze bearbeitete. Und dann war es auch schon soweit. Sybille kam und sie kam ordentlich. Von einem heftigen Orgasmus wurde sie durchgeschüttelt während ihr Sohn sie angrinste.

„Aaaahh, Jaaahh!…“ entfuhr es Sybille plötzlich.

So etwas unglaublich Geiles und zugleich auch Ungeheuerliches hatte sie noch nie erlebt. Ihr eigener Sohn hatte sie zum Orgasmus gefingert und zu was für einem. Willig hatte sie ihm ihren Schoss hingehalten oder hatte er ihn sich einfach genommen? Wenn, dann hat sie auch nichts dagegen getan. So oder so war es ein unfassbares Erlebnis.

Andreas ließ langsam von seiner Mutter ab aber sie hielt sich noch immer an ihm fest, hielt ihn umschlungen während sie die Nachbeben ihres Höhepunktes abklingen ließ. Jetzt war er also getan, der erste große Schritt. Eine Grenze wurde niedergerissen zwischen Mutter und Sohn. Jetzt gab es kein Halten mehr. Was würde also als Nächstes folgen?

„So, jetzt da du deinen Spaß gehabt hast, Mutter, will ich auch auf meine Kosten kommen. Du bist hier nicht die einzige Person mit Bedürfnissen, weisst du?“

Kaum hatte Andreas diese Worte ausgesprochen, trat er auch schon einen Schritt zurück und fing an seine Hose zu öffnen vor seiner immer noch schwer atmenden Mutter. Sybilles Augen wurden groß als sie wie gebannt auf die sich vor ihr ereignende Szene starrte, so als ob sie eine unbeteiligte Zuschauerin gewesen wäre.

Nachdem Andreas sich seiner Hose entledigt hatte, zog er auch noch seine Boxer-shorts aus und hatte nun nur mehr ein T-Shirt und seine Socken an. Sein großer, steifer Schwanz stand von ihm ab, bereit von den Liebkosungen seiner Mutter verwöhnt zu werden.

Ein Schauer von Geilheit durchfuhr Sybilles Körper als sie den harten Schwanz ihres Sohnes zum ersten mal in voller Pracht erblickte. Sie musste regelrecht hinstarren und konnte ihre Augen gar nicht mehr davon losreißen.

„Nicht nur hinsehen, sondern auch anfassen, Mutter…“ meinte Andreas.

„Andreas … ich … ich weiß nicht…“

„Was meinst du mit ‘ich weiß nicht’? Du bist doch gerade abgegangen wie eine Rakete als ich es dir mit der Hand besorgt habe. Willst du jetzt wirklich so egoistisch sein und mich hier so stehen lassen?“ fragte Andreas seine Mutter.

„Nein, ich will nicht egoistisch sein … aber…“

„Na dann glaube ich, dass du dich jetzt um mich kümmern solltest, oder? Das ist ja wohl ganz natürlich in dieser Situation. Also komm jetzt, mach!“

Ohne weiter abzuwarten was seine Mutter nun machen würde, nahm Andreas einfach ihre rechte Hand in seine linke und führte sie zu seinem Schwanz. Endlich konnte Sybille den überaus warmen und harten Schwanz ihres Sohnes in ihrer Hand pulsieren spüren. Dieses Gefühl wirkte auf sie beinahe hypnotisierend und sofort konnte sie nicht anders als damit anzufangen Andreas’ Schwanz langsam zu wichsen.

„Oh Ja, mach schneller, komm…“ verlangte Andreas.

„I-Ich glaube das geht besser … von unten…“

Gesagt, getan. Andreas’ Mutter ging auf die Knie. Wenn sie schon ihrem Sohn einen runterholen würde dann wäre diese Position doch viel besser geeignet fürs Wichsen. Ja, so käme sie viel besser an seinen Schwanz um ihrem Sohn zu zeigen, dass sie doch nicht egoistisch war was diese Dinge anging. Irgendwo in einer hinteren Ecke ihres Kopfes sollte das wohl eine Art Rechtfertigung sein für die ungeheuerlichen Dinge, die sie gerade mit ihrem Sohn tat. Jetzt wollte sie ihm zeigen, dass sie sich sehr wohl darum kümmern konnte, dass er sich auch gut fühlt. Jetzt war keine Scheu mehr angebracht, sondern Einsatz war gefragt. Sybille legte also mal richtig los und fing an den Schwanz ihres Sohnes ordentlich zu bearbeiten. Mit einem festen Griff ging das Wichsen gleich viel besser. Sybilles Hand sauste regelrecht vor und wieder zurück auf Andreas’ Schwanz, während sie nach oben schaute um ihrem Sohn in die Augen zu sehen. Das Grinsen in seinem Gesicht sagte ihr, dass sie ihre Sache gut machte.

„I-Ist das gut so?“ fragte Sybille trotzdem nach.

„Ja, das ist geil … aber ich glaube es wäre noch besser wenn du mir jetzt einen blasen würdest!“

„Oh, Andreas…“

Die obszönen Worte ihres Sohnes und der Gedanke daran gleich seinen ataşehir escort bayan Schwanz tief in ihren Mund zu nehmen und ihn zu lutschen entfachten erneut ein Feuer der Geilheit in Sybille. Ihre eigene, geheime Fantasie, für die sie sich eigentlich zutiefst schämte, würde nun Wirklichkeit werden. Auch wenn sie nie so richtig daran gedacht hatte das wirklich in die Tat umzusetzen, so war doch eine Situation wie diese hier schon so oft in ihrer Vorstellung vorgekommen wenn sie es sich in der Nacht mit ihrem Dildo heftig besorgt hatte.

Sybille hörte nun also auf den Schwanz ihres Sohnes zu wichsen, schob ihre Hand ganz nach hinten zurück und leckte sich über die Lippen. Sie starrte intensiv auf die dicke Eichel während sie langsam ihren Mund öffnete und die Zunge raus streckte. Ein wohliger Schauer durchfuhr Sybille als sie zum ersten mal mit ihrer Zunge über die Unterseite des Schwanzes vor ihr fuhr. Sofort wurde ihr klar, dass sie den Schwanz ihres Sohnes unbedingt lutschen musste so gut sie es konnte. Sie ließ ihn also langsam in ihren Mund gleiten und musste während dessen ein zufriedenes Stöhnen raus lassen. Der Schwanz ihres Sohnes hatte einen unvergleichlichen Geschmack, der Sybille extrem zusagte und sie noch mehr aufgeilte.

Sie fing nun also an ihren Kopf vor und zurück zu bewegen und verwöhnte so Andreas’ Schwanz mit ihrem Mund.

„Jaaahh, so ist es gut…“ stöhnte Andreas. „Blas’ ihn ordentlich!“

Diese Aufforderung entging Sybille natürlich nicht und sie gab sich noch mehr Mühe ihrem Sohn zu zeigen, dass sie eine gute Schwanzlutscherin sein konnte. Noch fester saugte sie jetzt an seinem bis zum Äußersten steif gewordenen Schwanz und bewegte ihren Kopf noch schneller vor und zurück.

Andreas vergrub seine Hände in den blonden Haaren seiner Mutter und hielt ihren Kopf nun mit beiden Händen um ihre Bewegungen ein wenig unterstützen zu können. Ebenso fing er an leichte Beckenbewegungen zu machen um mit Stößen nachzuhelfen.

„Ja, Jaaahh, ich komme gleich…“ stieß er hervor.

Andreas’ Bewegungen wurden hektischer, da sich der Druck spürbar in seinem Schwanz erhöht hatte. Er war kurz davor seiner Mutter alles in den Mund zu spritzen und Sybille tat alles um ihm genau dabei zu helfen. Ohne Unterlass blies sie den Schwanz ihres Sohnes weiter, so fest und so gut sie konnte um ihm zu einem ordentlichen Orgasmus zu verhelfen. Er hatte sie zu einem Höhepunkt gebracht also war es doch nur fair, dass sie ihrem Jungen jetzt auch ein gutes Gefühl bescherte. Und dann war es auch schon so weit. Andreas’ Orgasmus kam in mächtigen Wellen daher und genauso ergoss sich auch sein Sperma in den Mund seiner Mutter.

„Oh, Jaaahh…“ stöhnte er. „Schluck es … schluck es runter!“

Das musste Andreas seiner Mutter nicht zwei mal sagen. Wenn sie schon so intensiv geblasen hatte, wieso sollte sie dann nicht auch seinen Saft schlucken? Schluck um Schluck verzehrte sie also die ordentliche Spermaladung, die sie von ihrem Sohn bekam und stöhnte dabei, während ihr Mund immer noch fest um seinen pulsierenden Schwanz geschlossen war.

Schließlich war Andreas fertig. Die Wogen seines Höhepunktes waren verebbt und er badete nun im Gefühl der Zufriedenheit. Ein breites Grinsen schmückte sein Gesicht als er seine Mutter von oben betrachtete und sanft ihren Kopf von seinem Schwanz wegdrückte.

„Also jetzt weiß ich wie wir in Zukunft unsere Abende verbringen werden … mit ein paar Mutter-Sohn Aktivitäten…“ meinte Andreas grinsend.

Sybille, die immer noch am Boden kniete, sah ein wenig verwirrt aus über die Aussage ihres Sohnes. Sie sah Andreas an und wusste selbst nicht so ganz genau ob sie sich jetzt schuldig oder eher belustigt fühlen sollte.

„Liebling, bitte, sag nicht sowas…“ meinte sie.

„Ach komm, das war doch genau das was du auch wolltest.“ stellte Andreas fest. „Wer hätte gedacht, dass meine eigene Mutter so eine gute Schwanzlutscherin ist … von jetzt an will ich, dass du mir jeden Tag einen bläst!“

Sybille wurde rot, aber dennoch war das schockierende Kompliment ihres Sohnes Musik in ihren Ohren. Sie starrte seinen erschlaffenden Schwanz an und leckte sich erneut über die Lippen. Sie konnte nicht leugnen, dass es ihr immense Lust bereitete den Schwanz ihres Sohnes zu blasen und seinen Saft zu schlucken. Ihre Fotze war am auslaufen, so feucht war sie geworden während sie ihren Sohn oral befriedigt hatte. Sybilles Lust war kaum noch zu bändigen. Sie fuhr mit ihren Händen wie in Trance über Andreas’ Körper, angefangen bei seinen Oberschenkeln, nach oben hin über seinen Bauch. Um die Liebkosungen seiner Mutter voll und ganz genießen zu können, zog er sein T-Shirt aus und ließ es zu Boden fallen.

„Komm, steh auf.“ meinte er zu seiner Mutter.

Mit etwas wackeligen Beinen stand Sybille auf. Andreas nahm sie an der Hand und ging los während er seine Mutter dabei hinter sich her zog.

„Andreas, wo … wo gehen wir denn hin?“

„Was glaubst du denn wo wir hingehen … wir gehen jetzt nach oben in mein Zimmer … ficken!“

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ich erwachte. Wieder einmal hatte ich von meiner Mutter geträumt. Sie war damals 36 Jahre alt und sah verdammt gut aus, wenn ich das so sagen darf. Lange rote Haare, grüne Augen, weiße Haut voller Sommersprossen. Sie war etwa 1,65m groß und schlank. Meistens trug sie körperbetonte Kleidung, die ihre enormen Brüste gut zur Geltung brachten. In letzter Zeit träumte ich häufiger von ihr; vor etwa drei Jahren hatte ich entdeckt, daß sie nicht nur meine Mutter war, sondern außerdem noch eine sehr begehrenswerte Frau.

Verschlafen setzte ich mich auf und sah ich mich um. In der letzten Nacht, an meinem 18. Geburtstag, hatte ich ordentlich einen über den Durst getrunken. Ich konnte mich an nichts mehr erinnern, und es war mir ein Rätsel, warum ich im Zimmer meiner Mutter aufwachte.

Mein Kopf brummte. Mißmutig kratzte ich mich an der Stirn. Es fühlte sich irgendwie anders an als sonst. Meine Fingernägel kratzten ein wenig Haut von der Stirn. Ich sah mir meine Nägel an und erschrak. Sie waren lang! Einen Moment lang dachte ich, daß mir meine Kumpels Nick und Benny wieder einen Streich gespielt hatten, aber erstens wären angeklebte Fingernägel zu albern gewesen und zweitens sahen meine Finger sehr zart und fein aus. Das Handgelenk war schmal und der Arm war auch sehr dünn. Das war eine Frauenhand!

Verwirrt sah ich meine andere Hand an. Das gleiche Dilemma. Eigentlich habe ich recht kräftige Hände und behaarte Arme. Mir fiel eine Haarsträhne ins Gesicht. Ebenfalls komisch, denn ich habe kurze Haare. Ich fuhr mir mit der Hand durchs Gesicht. Kein Bartwuchs, statt dessen glatte, weiche Haut. Außerdem fühlte sich mein Gesicht anders an als sonst; die Nase und das Kinn waren schmaler und die Augenbrauen anders geschwungen.

Verwundert ließ ich meine Hand vom Kinn aus noch tiefer wandern. Kein Adamsapfel. Probeweise räusperte ich mich und erschrak über den hellen Klang. Dann bekam ich den größten Schock meines Lebens: Ich hatte Brüste! Und zwar welche von der Sorte, die groß und fest waren und sich außerdem noch gut anfühlten.

Was war hier nur los? Im Moment dachte ich nicht weiter darüber nach. Ich langte unter das Nachthemd, nahm jede Brust in eine Hand und spielte ein wenig mit ihnen. Das fühlte sich großartig an! Meine Finger berührten die Nippel, die schnell hart und empfindlich wurden. Ich hatte in meinem 18jährigen Leben noch nicht allzuviele Brüste in der Hand gehabt, und das hier waren definitiv die besten. Körbchengröße D (soweit ich das beurteilen konnte), sehr weich und dennoch fest. Außerdem war ich diesmal in der Situation, daß ich nicht nur derjenige war, der fummelte, sondern auch derjenige, der befummelt wurde.

Jetzt wollte ich endlich sehen, wie dieser Körper aussah, in dem ich aufgewacht war, also stand ich auf und trat vor den großen Spiegel, der an der Wand hing. Hier traf mich der nächste Schock, denn aus dem Spiegel starrte mir meine Mutter entgegen!

Was sollte das alles? Warum war ich im Körper meiner Mutter? Wie konnte ich meinen eigenen zurückbekommen? Wie sehen eigentlich die Titten meiner Mutter aus? Ich beschloß, die letzte Frage sofort zu klären. Man muß eben Prioritäten setzen. Ich zog mein Nachthemd hoch und hielt es mit dem Kinn fest. Vor mir stand der nackte Körper meiner Mutter. Daß sie viele Sommersprossen hatte, wußte ich schon vorher, aber daß sogar die Brüste damit bedeckt waren, war mir neu. Wenn ich einen Schwanz gehabt hätte, hätte er gestanden wie eine Eins. Ich trug ein Baumwollhöschen mit einem Tweety-Aufdruck auf der Vorderseite. Bevor ich jedoch dazu kam, es genauer zu untersuchen, hörte ich Schritte im Flur. Ich hob den Kopf, und das Nachthemd fiel wieder herab.

Die Tür wurde aufgestoßen, und herein kam… ich. Nackt bis auf die Boxershorts, die ich zum Schlafen trug. Nun ja, es war nicht ich, sondern mein Körper. “Wer bist du, und was machst du in meinem Körper?”, fragte ich verdutzt.

“Tommy, bist du das?”, wollte er wissen.

“Ja. Und wer bist du?”

Ohne eine Antwort zu geben, kam er auf mich zu und umarmte mich. Schluchzend sagte er: “Ich bins, Mama.”

Die Umarmung war relativ hart; mein zarter Frauenkörper schmerzte. “Drück doch nicht so”, keuchte ich. Sie ließ mich los und setzte sich auf das Bett. Es war ein eigenartiges Gefühl, mich selbst weinen zu sehen. Ich hatte zuletzt beim Begräbnis meines Vaters vor einigen Jahren geweint.

“Wie konnte das passieren?”, fragte sie schließlich mit dünner Stimme.

“Keine Ahnung”, erwiderte ich und zuckte die Schultern. Meine Brüste hüpften ein wenig.

“Fürs erste sollten wir uns fertigmachen, dann sehen wir weiter”, sagte ich.

Sie stand auf und schniefte. “Na gut.”

Als ataşehir escort sie das Zimmer verließ, sah ich ihr nach. Mein Körper war wirklich in guter Verfassung. 1,85m groß, durchtrainiert, braungebrannt. Sie mußte sich in meinem männlichen Körper genauso komisch fühlen wie ich in ihrem weiblichen.

Zum Duschen hatte ich keine Nerven, also beschloß ich, mich einfach nur anzuziehen. Ich fand im Kleiderschrank eine Jeans und ein altes T-Shirt und zog mich schnell um. Mißmutig betrachtete ich mich im Spiegel. Kein BH, wirre Haare, alte Klamotten. So lief meine Mutter nie herum. Als sie schließlich hereinkam, bestätigte sie das. “Wo hast du denn diese Fetzen gefunden? Runter damit!” Sie trug ebenfalls Jeans und T-Shirt, aber da das meine Standardkleidung war, war es in Ordnung.

Ich schämte mich zuerst, mich vor meiner Mutter zu zeigen, aber dann fiel mir ein, daß es ja ihr Körper war, den sie sowieso jeden Tag betrachten konnte. Ich zog das T-Shirt über den Kopf und betrachtete meine Brüste. “Das ist ein sehr schöner Körper”, sagte ich gedankenverloren. Meine Mutter wurde knallrot. “Das Kompliment muß ich zurückgeben”, erwiderte sie und sah an sich hinab.

Sie kramte in einer Schublade herum und zog einen schwarzen Seiden-BH heraus. “Versuch mal, den hier anzuziehen”, sagte sie und reichte ihn mir. Ich sah auf das Etikett. 75D. Da ich noch nie versucht hatte, einen BH anzuziehen, stellte ich mich reichlich blöd an. Mama half mir, indem sie den Verschluß hinten zumachte und die verdrehten Träger richtete. Es war ein merkwürdiges Gefühl; meine Brüste wurden leicht angehoben und standen mehr nach vorne.

Ich zerrte an dem Stoff herum. “Reichlich unbequem, dieses Ding. Wie hältst du das nur immer aus?”, fragte ich. “Normalerweise spürt man es kaum”, erwiderte sie und betrachtete meine Brüste. “Sitzt wohl noch nicht so richtig.”

Sie ließ ihre Hand in das linke Körbchen gleiten, hob meine Brust ein wenig an und zupfte von außen an dem BH herum, bis alles richtig saß. Dann das gleiche mit der rechten Brust. Es fühlte sich verdammt gut an! Meine Nippel wurden hart und waren von außen gut sichtbar. Ich stellte mich vor den Spiegel und drückte den Rücken durch. Phantastisch!

“Sie sind ganz nett, nicht?”, sagte Mama stolz.

“Was heißt hier nett?”, sagte ich und nahm jede Brust in eine Hand. “Die sind perfekt.”

“Sollte ich etwas dagegen haben, wenn du meine Brüste befummelst?”, überlegte sie und kratzte sich am Sack. “Naja, solange du in meinem Körper steckst, ist es wohl in Ordnung.”

“Du hast sie ja selber befummelt, und du steckst in meinem Körper”, sagte ich grinsend. “Das zählt nicht, schließlich ist das da mein Körper”, sagte sie und deutete auf mich. “Auch wieder wahr”, lächelte ich. “Trotzdem war es schön.” Sie errötete erneut.

Ich zog die Jeans aus und betrachtete meine Beine. Sie waren mindestens genauso perfekt wie der Rest. Mein Hintern sah im Spiegel toll aus. “Soll ich den Slip wechseln?”, fragte ich Mama.

Sie seufzte. “Ich habe ab sofort wohl keine Geheimnisse mehr vor dir, was?”

Ich lächelte sie an. “Genauso wenig wie ich vor dir.”

“Na wenns sein muß, sieh dir halt alles an”, sagte sie resignierend.

Der große Moment war gekommen: Ich zog meiner Mutter das Höschen aus! Genaugenommen zog ich mein eigenes Höschen aus, aber in der aktuellen Situation war das das gleiche. Nackt bis auf den BH stand ich vor dem Spiegel und betrachtete meinen neuen Körper. Mamas Muschi war rasiert! Probeweise legte ich meine Hand darauf. Meine Erfahrung mit Muschis hielt sich in Grenzen, aber wie bei den Brüsten war das die beste, die ich je berührt hatte.

“He, was machst du denn da?”, rief Mama. “Ach komm schon, erzähl mir nicht, daß du nicht schon das selbe gemacht hast”, erwiderte ich. Wieder wurde sie rot. Außerdem konnte ich eine Beule in ihrer Jeans erkennen. Sie bekam eine Erektion! Wir waren wirklich in eine seltsame Situation geraten.

Ich fuhr mit dem Finger sanft durch meine Vagina. Ein zartes Kribbeln durchfuhr meinen Körper. Ich fragte mich ernsthaft, wie meine Mutter jemals die Finger von ihrem eigenen phantastischem Körper lassen konnte. Mama sah mich mit gemischten Gefühlen an. “Ich kann ja verstehen, daß es für dich mächtig interessant sein muß, meinen Körper zu studieren, aber könntest du jetzt trotzdem diesen Slip anziehen?”, sagte sie und reichte mir ein schwarzes Höschen. Nun ja, meine Muschi konnte ich später noch studieren. Fürs erste zog ich den Slip an. Es war merkwürdig, keinen Schwanz in der Hose zu haben. Normalerweise mußte ich wie wohl jeder Kerl auf dieser Welt alles richtig einsortieren, aber diesmal zog ich einfach escort ataşehir das Höschen drüber und alles war in Ordnung.

“Ok, jetzt brauchen wir noch Klamotten”, sagte ich und sah mich in Mamas Schrank um. Ich suchte etwas mit einem tiefen Ausschnitt. Schließlich fand ich ein rotes Top, bei dem man die Träger hinter dem Hals verknoten mußte. Ich zwängte mich hinein und versuchte, ein Schleifchen hinter meinem Hals zu machen, was aber gründlich mißlang. Wie machte sie das nur? “Könntest du mir mal helfen?”, fragte ich Mama. Sie stand vom Bett auf und stellte sich hinter mich. Da sie in meinem Körper größer als ich war, konnte sie mir in den Ausschnitt starren. Was sie auch tat. “Hey, wo guckst du denn hin?”, fragte ich. Sie legte ihre Hände auf meine Taille, und ich konnte ihre Erektion spüren. “Ich muß doch sehen, ob alles richtig sitzt”, erwiderte sie. Ich fühlte ein seltsames Kribbeln zwischen meinen Beinen.

“Sieht gut aus, wie immer”, sagte sie schließlich und machte einen Knoten in die Träger des Tops. Meine Nippel standen wieder vor. Ich begann die Situation zu genießen. Vielleicht war es doch nicht so schlecht, in einem Frauenkörper zu sein, noch dazu in einem so hübschen. Ich hatte zwar noch Probleme, das Gleichgewicht zu halten, weil der Schwerpunkt irgendwie höher lag als sonst, aber ansonsten fühlte ich ich mich gut.

Im Schrank fand ich einen Minirock. “Paßt der dazu?”, fragte ich Mama. “Nein. Eine Frau sollte entweder oben oder unten etwas zeigen, aber nicht überall”, sagte sie. Gutes Argument. Ich zog eine schwarze Stoffhose an, die meine Beine und meinen Hintern noch knackiger aussehen ließen. Hochhackige Schuhe zu tragen traute ich mir noch nicht zu. Wenn ich jemals einen Rock tragen würde, konnte ich das immer noch ausprobieren. Für heute waren Sandalen ausreichend.

“Ich muß mal aufs Klo”, sagte Mama und verschwand in Richtung Badezimmer. Ich konnte nicht anders, als meinen neuen Körper noch einmal im Spiegel anzusehen. Das Top brachte meine großen Brüste wunderbar zur Geltung, und ich mußte sie einfach erneut anfassen. Ich ließ meine rechte Hand von oben in den Ausschnitt gleiten, wie ich es schon immer hatte tun wollen, als ich noch in meinem normalen Körper war und Mama in ihrem. Diese Brust fühlte sich wirklich unglaublich an! Meine Finger fanden den Nippel und spielten damit. Ich drehte ein wenig daran herum, wie sich Jungs das eben so vorstellen, merkte aber, daß mich das überhaupt nicht erregte. Zartes Darüberstreichen brachte es viel mehr.

“Hey Mama, was machst du denn da?” hörte ich eine Stimme. Voller Panik und mit rotem Kopf riß ich meine Hand aus dem Ausschnitt und drehte mich um. In der Tür stand meine 19jährige Schwester Nicole. “Erschreck mich doch nicht so, Nicky, ich, äh… hab nur alles richtig einsortiert”, stammelte ich. Sie grinste.

“Was gibts denn heute zum Essen?”, fragte sie schließlich. “Weiß noch nicht. Hab eigentlich keine Lust zum Kochen. Vielleicht hilft mir ja Tommy dabei”, sagte ich in der Hoffnung, daß Mama mit hinlangen würde. Mir wurde jetzt erst klar, daß ich nicht nur Mamas tollen Körper bekommen hatte, sondern auch die Verpflichtung, all das zu tun, was sie sonst tat. Nicky lachte laut heraus. “Der faule Sack? Nie im Leben!”

Ich verkniff mir eine fiese Antwort und lachte halbherzig mit. “Naja, vielleicht kann ich ihn dazu überreden, obwohl ich nicht viel Hoffnung habe. Mal gucken, wo er steckt.” Mit diesen Worten flüchtete ich, um irgendwelchen Fragen aus dem Weg zu gehen, die ich vielleicht nicht beantworten konnte.

Mama hatte vorhin gesagt, daß sie aufs Klo mußte. Nur hatte ich bis jetzt noch keine Spülung gehört. Was machte sie bloß da drin?

Ich näherte mich dem Badezimmer. Die Tür war nur angelehnt, warum auch immer. Durch den Spalt konnte ich sehen, daß Mama vor dem Spiegel stand und genau das tat, was ich vorhin auch getan hatte: Ihren nackten Körper anschauen. Nun ja, sie war nicht ganz nackt, sondern hatte nur die Hose geöffnet und betrachtete ihren Schwanz. Meinen, genaugenommen. Er war steif. Ich räusperte mich. Mama erschrak und drehte sich hektisch um, wodurch ihr Schwanz hin- und herwippte.

“Komm schon rein und mach die Tür zu”, schnaufte sie. Ich tat wie mir befohlen und verschloß die Tür. “Wie kannst du nur die Finger davon lassen?”, fragte mich Mama und nahm ihren Schwanz in die Hand. “Man gewöhnt sich daran”, sagte ich und grinste. “Normalerweise ist er ja auch nicht so groß.”

“Ich habe seit dem Aufstehen fast ununterbrochen eine Erektion”, sagte Mama und rieb ihn leicht. Er wurde noch ein wenig steifer. “Außerdem muß ich aufs Klo und kann nicht.” Ich lachte laut heraus. “Kenne ich nur zu gut!”

“Sei ataşehir escort bayan nicht so laut”, sagte Mama und warf einen Blick zur Tür. “Nicky soll nicht wissen, daß wir hier zusammen drin sind.”

Normalerweise hätte mich der Anblick eines steifen Schwanzes nicht erregt, sondern eher abgestoßen. Aber diesmal war es anders. Vielleicht weil die Situation so seltsam war. Ich fühlte, daß ich ein feucht wurde. Ich öffnete meinen Reißverschluß und schob die Jeans nach unten. Der Schritt meines Höschens glitzerte ein bißchen. Ich fuhr mit dem Zeigefinger darüber und schnüffelte daran. Sehr erregend!

Mama sah mir zu und fuhr damit fort, ihren Ständer zu reiben. “Das ist ziemlich einfach. Kein Wunder, daß Männer immer zu früh kommen”, sagte sie und lächelte. Meine Hand war mittlerweile unter meinen Slip gewandert. Ich fuhr mit einem Finger den Schlitz entlang. Es kribbelte! Ich streifte die Jeans und den Slip ab und setzte mich mit gespreizten Beinen auf den Badewannenrand. Probeweise steckte ich einen Finger in meine Vagina. Großartig!

Das schien sie zu erregen, denn sie schloß die Augen und stöhnte. Dann kam sie und spritzte alles auf den Spiegelschrank! “Ooohhh!”, schrie sie auf. Ein Funken von Schuldbewußtsein schimmerte in ihren Augen, als es nachgelassen hatte. Sie wischte das Dilemma mit Klopapier weg. “Hey, sieh mal, jetzt schrumpft er und ich kann endlich aufs Klo gehen”, sagte sie schließlich. “Daher kommt wohl der Ausdruck ‘einen runterholen'”, erwiderte ich und grinste.

“Mal schauen, ob ich auch im Stehen pinkeln kann”, sagte sie und stellte sich vor die Toilette. Es klappte natürlich. Ich sah zu, und seltsamerweise erregte mich sogar das. Einen Finger hatte ich in meiner Vagina, und mit der anderen Hand liebkoste ich meine Brüste. Nachdem Mama sich gesäubert hatte, wandte sie mir wieder ihre Aufmerksamkeit zu. “Sieh mal, wenn du die Klitoris streichelst, ist das noch viel erregender.”

“Wo ist die denn?”, fragte ich und spreizte meine Vagina mit zwei Fingern. “Da oben”, sagte Mama und deutete auf einen kleinen Fleischknubbel am oberen Ende. “Soll ich dir helfen? Ich weiß, wie das geht.”

Ohne eine Antwort abzuwarten, strich sie sanft mit einem Finger darüber. Ich stöhnte leise. Das war ja noch viel besser als einen Finger reinzustecken! Mama liebkoste meinen Kitzler, und ich wurde immer feuchter. Ich sah, daß sie schon wieder eine Erektion bekam. Plötzlich nahm sie ihre Hand weg und sagte: “Weißt du was, ich wollte mich schon immer mal selbst schmecken.”

Noch bevor mir bewußt wurde, was sie damit meinte, hatte sie sich hingekniet und fuhr mit der Zunge durch meine Vagina! “Hm, verdammt gut”, murmelte sie und züngelte an meinem Kitzler herum. Das war zuviel! Ich kam explosionsartig und stöhnte laut. Es war ganz anders, als Frau zu kommen. Als Mann schien der Orgamsmus vom Schwanz auszugehen, aber als Frau war das Gefühl irgendwie überall. Mein zitternder Körper war von einer Gänsehaut überzogen.

Als ich wieder zu mir kam, wurde mir klar, daß ich soeben Sex mit meiner Mutter gehabt hatte. Zwar anders, als ich mir das immer vorgestellt hatte, aber es war mindestens genauso schön gewesen. Eines fehlte aber noch: richtiger Verkehr. Ich war immer noch erregt und konnte bestimmt nochmal kommen, und Mama hatte auch schon wieder eine Erektion. Ohne etwas zu sagen stand sie auf und näherte sich mir. Ich konnte mich nicht dazu überwinden, meinen eigenen Schwanz in den Mund zu nehmen, also stand ich ebenfalls auf. Wir umarmten uns, und ich spürte ihren Schwanz zwischen meinen Beinen. Ohne Nachzudenken spreizte ich die Beine ein wenig, und sie drang ohne Widerstand ein. Wir stöhnten beide auf. “Phantastisch!”, sagte sie und schob ihn langsam komplett hinein. Ich war komplett ausgefüllt von ihr, und es fühlte sich großartig an.

Es waren nicht mehr als drei Stöße, dann kamen wir beide gleichzeitig. Ich krallte meine langen Fingernägel in ihren Rücken.

“Wie geht es jetzt weiter?”, wollte ich wissen, als wir uns beide wieder angezogen hatten. “Naja, wir vögeln bei jeder Gelegenheit”, sagte sie und grinste. Gute Idee. Nur mußten wir beide das Leben des anderen weiterleben. Mama war Sekretärin und ich war in der 12. Klasse im Gymnasium. Wir hatten beide keine Ahnung von den Anforderungen, die dem anderen gestellt wurden, also rief ich in Mamas Firma und der Schule an und meldete mich krank.

Das Leben würde nicht einfach werden. Obwohl ich nun einen phantastischen Frauenkörper hatte, von dem ich nur schwer die Finger lassen konnte, begann ich mir langsam mein normales Leben zurückzuwünschen. Mama sah ebenfalls nachdenklich aus. “Woran denkst du?”, fragte ich sie. Sie lächelte. “An wen muß ich mich wohl wenden, wenn ich mal einen geblasen bekommen will?”

“Tut mir leid, aber ich kann das nicht tun”, erwiderte ich. Körpertausch hin oder her, einen Schwanz zu blasen kam mir schwul vor. Ich überlegte. “Vielleicht macht Nicky mit.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Vielen Dank für all die positiven Feedbacks.

Die DVD

Nach dem gemeinsamen Frühstück, bei dem Georg so aufmerksam und liebevoll wie noch nie war, es gefiel ihm wohl wenn ich seinen Schwanz blies und sein Sperma schluckte, stellte ich Sabine in ihrem Zimmer zur Rede:

„Das war ja gestern nicht die passende Kleidung, da hättest du ja gleich ohne Bluse nach unten kommen können.”

„Ja Mama, du hast ja recht, ich wäre nie auf die Idee gekommen keinen BH zu tragen, aber..”

„Was aber?” wollte ich wissen.

„Andrea wollte unbedingt, das ich so gehe, stell dir vor, die Schlampe trägt noch nicht mal einen Slip, aber das habe ich nicht gemacht.”

So einfach kam sie mir nicht davon: „Andrea hat dir aber nicht die Blusenknöpfe am Tisch geöffnet, und hat auch nicht mit Jens geflirtet, das warst schon du.”

„Ja aber er ist ja auch so süß, und die Blicke der Männer machten mich auch ganz schön an.

Außerdem brauchst du dich nicht so zu haben, ich habe dich heute Nacht schreien gehört,

Daniel übrigens auch. Du bist auch nicht so harmlos wie du immer tust.”

Was sollte ich darauf sagen, ich brachte nur ein: „Wir wollten euch nicht stören.” heraus und verließ das Zimmer.

Wenn Sabine wüsste, dass ich ernsthaft daran dachte mir den Pelz zu rasieren und auch in Erwägung zog auf Unterwäsche zu verzichten;

ob Sie mich dann auch als eine Schlampe bezeichnen würde?

Allein bei dem Gedanke wurde ich schon wieder feucht.

Sollte ich mit Daniel wegen meiner Lustschreie sprechen, oder es einfach auf sich beruhen lassen. Besser wäre sicher ihn anzusprechen, oder sollte ich erst Georg fragen?

Ich entschloss mich das Gespräch sofort zu suchen, dann ist die Sache wenigstens geklärt.

Daniel war in seinem Zimmer und zog rasch seine Hose hoch als ich die Türe öffnete. Er hatte sich wahrscheinlich gerade umgezogen, aber warum hatte er einen so roten Kopf?

Vielleicht hatte ich ihn ja auch beim Wischen gestört, das hätte mir wirklich leid getan.

„Daniel, Sabine hat mir gesagt, dass Papa und ich ziemlich laut waren letzte Nacht, ich wollte mich dafür bei dir entschuldigen” begann ich das Gespräch.

Er antwortete lächelnd: „Papa hab ich aber nicht gehört, Mama, aber du brauchst dich dafür doch nicht zu entschuldigen. Ich freue mich doch für dich, wenn du Spaß hast. Wir haben sowieso gedacht, dass bei euch nichts mehr läuft, aber seit gestern Nacht, na ja.”

„Dann bin ich ja froh, das es dich nicht gestört hat, denn das kann zukünftig noch öfter passieren,” erklärte ich und verließ rasch den Raum. Welcher Teufel mich zu dieser Aussage trieben hat , fragte ich mich später immer wieder, aber gesagt war gesagt.

Endlich Montag.

Die Kinder sind in der Schule, Georg mit einem der Wagen beim Kundendienst und nicht vor 14 Uhr zurück, also mehr als genug Zeit endlich die DVD in Angriff zu nehmen.

Heute habe ich es das erste Mal gewagt keinen Slip anzuziehen, Georg habe ich nichts davon gesagt, er wird es schon merken.

Der Stoff der Jeans und der Reißverschluss fühlten sich erst etwas komisch an, aber inzwischen gefällt mir das, ich habe mich schon fast daran gewöhnt.

Wenn das Gewohnheit werden sollte, dann musste ich mir unbedingt die Schamhaare rasieren, die sich sonst leicht im Reißverschluss verfingen.

Am Arsch ist es nicht viel anders als einen String zu tragen. Ob ich es auch unter einem Kleid probieren werde, weis ich noch nicht, aber eher nicht.

Gerne hätte ich versuchsweise auch auf den BH verzichtet, aber das konnte ich nach meinen Vorhaltungen gegenüber Sabine nicht riskieren, bestimmt hätte sie sich darüber aufgeregt und in Gedanken hörte ich sie schon motzen: Mich machst du fertig, aber du darfst so rumlaufen, usw.

Schnell holte ich die DVD aus ihrem Versteck, und steckte sie in den Player. Überraschenderweise war es eine neutrale DVD mit der handschriftlichen Aufschrift:

für Silvia, privat, viel Spaß

Wahrscheinlich eine illegale Kopie eines geilen Pornofilms mit dem Sandra meine Phantasie anheizen will.

Aber was ich dann zusehen bekam überstieg bei weitem mein bisheriges Vorstellungsvermögen, natürlich hatte ich schon davon gehört das es so etwas gibt, aber doch nicht in unserer Familie.

Erst war ich entsetzt, dann schockiert, dann interessiert, dann gebannt und zum Schluss nur noch geil!

Der Film wurde komplett im Haus meiner Schwester gedreht und Hauptdarsteller waren die Familienmitglieder.

Erst sah ich meine Schwester mit ihrem Sohn, dann Andrea mit ihrer Mutter, dann Jens und Karl mit Andrea und so ging es weiter.

Bei der letzten Szene waren dann alle zusammen im riesigen Bett der Eltern und hatten jede Menge Spaß. Karl fickte Sandra in die Muschi, währenddessen Andrea mit einem Umschnalldildo den Arsch ihrer Mutter bearbeitete und selbst den Prügel von Jens in ihrem Arschloch hatte.

Nach und nach kamen Sie zum Höhepunkt, spritzen und schrieen Ihre Lust hinaus. Verschwitzt und Sperma verschmiert lagen die vier im Bett und lächelten mich völlig ataşehir escort bayan entspannt an.

Dann war den Film zu Ende.

Längst hatte ich meine Hose abgestreift und bearbeitete meine Muschi wie wild. Meinen ersten Orgasmus hatte ich, als Jens seiner Mutter in den Mund spritze und Sandra alles gierig schluckte. Anschließend leckte sie den Prügel und ihre Finger sauber, damit ja nichts verschwendet wurde. Weitere Höhepunkte folgten, bis ich zu erschöpft war um mich weiter selbst zu befriedigen.

Als meine Lust abgeklungen war, versteckte ich die DVD, duschte und zog mich wieder an,

diesmal auch einen Slip.

Leider konnte ich die Bilder in meinem Kopf durch die Dusche nicht entfernen.

Aber wollte ich das überhaupt?

Als Georg zurück kam, war ich soweit wieder hergestellt, das er zwar mein müdes Aussehen bemerkte, und mir riet, nicht soviel im Haushalt zu arbeiten, aber sonst keine Rückschlüsse auf meine Augenringe ziehen konnte. Am liebsten hätte ich ihm die ganze Geschichte erzählt, aber da ich ja meiner Schwester versprochen hatte nichts zu sagen musste ich alleine mit der Situation zurecht kommen.

Mit der perversen Sandra wollte ich jetzt auf keinen Fall sprechen. Allerdings wusste ich jetzt genau, warum meine Schwester und ihre Tochter ohne Unterwäsche durch die Gegend liefen.

Was sollte ich nur machen?

Viele Dinge gingen mir durch den Kopf:

Ich könnte den Kontakt zu meiner Schwester abbrechen, aber ohne Begründung würde meine Familie das nicht verstehen.

Sollte ich das inzestuöse Verhalten zur Anzeige bringen, aber alle Beteiligten sind über 18 Jahre alt, wann es begonnen hatte wusste ich nicht. Und anscheinend hatte die ganze Familie einen teuflischen Spaß bei dem Treiben.

Am schlimmsten quälte es mich aber, dass sich sofort geil wurde wenn ich an die Szenen auf der DVD dachte, und das tat ich fast immer.

Als Sandra sich an einem der folgenden Tage telefonisch meldete war zu meinem Glück Georg am Telefon und ich ließ mich verleugnen, sagte ihm, er solle ihr sagen, dass ich zurückrufen würde.

Da konnte sie lange warten.

Auf seine Frage warum ich nicht mit meiner Schwester sprechen wollte, antwortete ich das mir das jetzt einfach nicht passte.

Georg nahm es gelassen, murmelte etwas von Zickenalarm und gab dann Ruhe. Sicher wollte er mich nicht verärgern, da sich in unserem Sexleben in den Tagen nach dem Besuch meiner Schwester doch einiges geändert hatte.

Jede Nacht ging es richtig zur Sache. Blasen, Lecken, Ficken in die Fotze und das erste mal durfte er auch in meinen Arsch. Ich hatte ja auf der DVD gesehen wie meine Schwester und meine Nichte es genossen und das wollte ich natürlich auch ausprobieren.

Fast musste ich Georg zwingen, da ich ja alle seine diesbezüglichen Bemühungen bisher entschieden abgelehnt hatte.

Das war für mich eine ganz neue Erfahrung, die anfänglich doch mit einigen Schmerzen verbunden war, aber mich nach einer kurzen Gewöhnungszeit sicher zum Höhepunkt trieb.

Ich genoss unser neues Liebesleben und konnte gar nicht mehr genug bekommen.

Manchmal machte ich es mir, nachdem Georg bereits eingeschlafen war nochmals selbst,

mit den Bildern der fickenden Familie meiner Schwester im Kopf.

Tagsüber trug ich unter meinen Hosen keine Slips mehr, aber die Schamhaare hatte ich mir noch nicht abrasiert. Vielleicht konnte ich ja Georg dazu überreden mir dabei zu helfen.

Sicher hörten die Kinder meine nächtlichen Lustschreie, aber das war mir inzwischen egal.

Meine Lust siegte spielend über mein Schamgefühl. Auch das war eine ganz neue Erfahrung für mich.

Peinliches Treffen im Sexshop

Immer wenn ich alleine war und absehen konnte, dass ich einige Zeit nicht gestört werden würde, legte ich die DVD ein und sah mir die Familie meiner Schwester bei ihrem perversen Treiben an.

Natürlich besorgte ich es mir dabei immer selbst, manchmal mehrmals. Als ich gerade die Szene sah, in der meine Schwester ihre Tochter mit je einem Dildo in Fotze und Arsch fickte, und sich die Kleine vor Lust nicht mehr halten konnte, kam es mir in den Sinn, dass wir überhaupt keine Sexspielzeuge besaßen.

Nachdem es auch mir gekommen war und ich wieder klar denken konnte suchte ich nach einem Weg um an solche Spielzeuge zu kommen.

Eine Internetbestellung kam nicht in Frage, da ich sehen und berühren wollte was sich in mich bohren würde. Georg zu bitten mit mir einen Sexshop zu besuchen traute ich mich nicht, ich wollte ihn lieber mit den Gegenständen überraschen.

Also blieb mir nur der Weg in einen Shop, um selbst einzukaufen. Eine Internetsuche zeigte mir einen Laden in der größeren Nachbarstadt, ca. 40 km entfernt. Ich konnte mich auch daran erinnern, den Shop bei einem Stadtbummel bereits gesehen zu haben.

Am nächsten Tag holte ich mir 1000 Euro aus der Familienkasse und erzählte meinen Lieben, dass ich mal wieder shoppen gehen würde. Georg flüsterte mir noch leise ins Ohr: „ Kauf dir was geiles, Liebling, damit escort ataşehir ich auch was davon habe.”

„Worauf du dich verlassen kannst „ war meine Antwort. Und weg war ich, damit keine weiteren Fragen möglich waren.

Zwei Mal bin ich mit dem Wagen an dem Laden vorbeigefahren, drei Mal vorbeigelaufen ohne dass ich mich getraut hätte einzutreten. Hoffentlich erkannte mich niemand. Es wäre mir sehr peinlich gewesen beim Einkauf im Sexshop von einem Bekannten erwischt zu werden.

Als aber dann eine Frau in den Laden ging, folgte ich ihr sehr nervös und etwas erregt durch die Tür und sah mich um. Auf den ersten Blick sah es ja aus wie in einer Videothek, aber dann nahm ich auch die anderen Dinge wahr.

Dildos, Doppeldildos, Vibratoren, Plugs, Liebeskugeln in allen Größen und Farben. Gleitcremes, Handschellen, Peitschen, Latex und Lederklamotten, Pumps, Stiefel mit schwindelerregenden Absätzen, sexy Unterwäsche, alles war da.

Einige der Sachen hatte ich ja bereits in Pornofilmen und auf Sandras DVD in Aktion gesehen, für was ich mich entscheiden sollte, wusste ich noch nicht. Nachdem ich alles betrachtet und zum Teil auch befühlt hatte nahm ich von allem etwas.

5 Dildos in verschiedenen Größen und Farben, die Riesendinger ließ ich im Regal. Auch einen Doppeldildo packte ich ein, obwohl ich nicht wusste mit wem ich den gebrauchen sollte.

2 Umschnalldildos in schwarz und pink, damit wollte ich meinen Mann in den Arsch ficken, Gleichberechtigung muss sein. Außerdem noch jede Menge Plugs, Liebeskugeln und einige Vibratoren.

Gerade als ich mit meinen Errungenschaften zu dem schmierigen Typen an die Kasse wollte, öffnete sich die Eingangstüre und meine Schwester kam herein.

Das hatte mir gerade noch gefehlt. Die wollte ich jetzt ganz bestimmt nicht sehen, aber ehe ich mich hinter ein Regal verdrücken konnte, hatte mich schon entdeckt und kam lachend auf mich zu.

„Hier treibst du dich also herum Schwesterchen, da hast du natürlich keine Zeit zum Telefonieren.” Und schon nahm sie mich in die Arme und küsste mich, ihre Zunge schob sie zwischen meine Zähne. Ich wollte mich ihr entziehen, aber sie ließ mich nicht los. Gerade als ich mich gewaltsam befreien wollte, da zog sie sich zurück und strahlte mich an: „Zeig mal was du dir alles ausgesucht hast. Vielleicht kann ich dich ja beraten.”

„Ich weis überhaupt nicht ob ich mit dir reden will, warum benimmst du dich hier so unmöglich, steckst mir die Zunge in den Mund, ich gehöre doch nicht zu deiner perversen Familie” wies ich sie erst recht laut und dann immer leiser werdend zurecht.

„Jetzt hab dich nicht so, komm bezahl deine Klamotten und dann lass und da drüben ins Kaffee gehen und über alles sprechen.”

Wir setzten uns in Bewegung zur Kasse, da nahm sie noch einen Vibrator der auf einer Seite 2 Enden hatte, ein dickeres und ein dünneres aus dem Regal und legte ihn mit den Worten „ Nimm den auch noch mit, der wird dir sicher viel Spaß machen” in meinen Einkaufskorb.”

Der schmierige Typ grinste bei jedem Artikel den er in die neutralen Taschen packte und wünschte mir auch noch einen angenehmen Tag als ich bezahlt hatte. Spielzeuge im Wert von 490 Euro wird der Kerl auch nicht an jede Kundin verkaufen dachte ich.

Ob die Teile den Preis rechtfertigen wurde, wollte ich ja noch herausfinden.

Ich folgte Sandra aus dem Laden über die Straße ins Kaffee. Sie trug auch heute wieder ein kurzes Kleid mit hohen Schuhen, anscheinend ihre Lieblingskleidung. Ob sie was drunter trug konnte ich nicht feststellen, obwohl ich sehr drauf achtete. Im Kaffee werde ich sie einfach danach fragen, wenn ich tatsächlich mit ihr sprechen würde, nahm ich mir vor.

Meine Tüten wollte ich erst noch zum Wagen bringen, aber sie meinte nimm die Lustbringer mit, vielleicht brauchen wir die ja noch.

Du spinnst wohl, war meine Antwort, trotzdem schleppte ich die Taschen mit.

Im Kaffee setzten wir uns an einen kleinen freien Tisch und bestellten Getränke und Kuchen.

Einige Minuten saßen wir still am Tisch und betrachteten uns gegenseitig. Meine Schwester ist schon eine schöne Frau, dachte ich mir. Mit ihren schulterlangen, vollen, blonden Haaren, die sie heute zu einem Pferdeschwanz gebunden hatte, dem ebenmäßigen Gesicht mit den blauen Augen, den vollen Brüsten und den langen schlanken Beinen fällt sie überall auf und steht im Mittelpunkt.

Bestimmt konnte sie sich vor eindeutigen Angeboten nicht retten, aber sie zog es ja vor im Familienkreise zu vögeln.

Schon war ich wieder wütend und wollte gehen, als ich sie sagen hörte:” Warum hast du nicht angerufen, ich hatte dich so darum gebeten und du lässt dich auch noch verleugnen.” Dabei fasste sie mich an der Hand und hielt mich fest.

Ja warum hatte ich nicht angerufen? Weil ich ihr Treiben so abscheulich fand, oder weil es mich faszinierte und ich sie darum beneidete.

Ich ließ mir mit der Antwort noch etwas Zeit und sagte ihr dann: „ Ich konnte nicht, auf der einen Seite finde ich euch so was von pervers, anderseits macht es mich dauernd ataşehir escort geil. Ich habe den Film bestimmt schon 10 Mal gesehen.”

„Bist du heute wieder nackt unter deinem Kleid, ” rutschte es mir raus. „

Natürlich” entgegnete sie: „wir tragen so gut wie nie Unterwäsche” und fügte noch ein freches: „Willst du es sehen” an.

Beinahe hätte ich sie dazu aufgefordert, hatte aber Angst dass sie nicht bluffen und hier im Kaffee blankziehen würde.

Lächelnd schüttelte ich den Kopf und legte meine Hand auf Ihre.

Der Kellner brachte uns unsere Bestellung und verschwand wieder. Der Kaffee und der Kuchen schmeckte hervorragend.

Langsam kam unsere Unterhaltung richtig in Gang.

Ich machte ihr natürlich weiterhin Vorwürfe wegen des inzestuösen Treibens in ihrer Familie. Sie konterte immer, dass es sich einfach so ergeben hat und als sie damit begonnen hatten gab es kein zurück mehr. Es war einfach zu geil. Sie konnten nicht mehr damit aufhören.

Es gab einfach nichts besseres als mit den Kindern und Karl zu vögeln.

Selbst wenn ich mich von ihr abwenden würde, könnte sie damit nicht mehr aufhören, das müsste sie dann wohl in Kauf nehmen.

Ich fragte sie, wie denn alles angefangen hatte, aber sie sagte, da müsste ich Andrea und Karl fragen, die waren die ersten, die es zusammen trieben. Sie wolle sich nicht mit fremden Federn schmücken.

Dann fragte sie mich, warum ich im Sexshop war, ob die DVD etwas dazu beigetragen, oder was mich sonst dazu gebracht hätte?

Natürlich konnte ich ihr keine vernünftige Erklärung geben.

Die ganze Diskussion über Familie, Sex, Inzest brachte meine Muschi zum überlaufen. Ich fragte mich ob es meiner Schwester genauso ging, wenn ja, wie sie es anstellte, dass ihr Kleid und der Stuhl nicht von ihrem Muschisaft durchnässt wurde.

Oder hatte sie mich vielleicht wegen der Unterwäsche angelogen. Ich war jedenfalls froh, dass ich heute ausnahmsweise einen Slip anhatte.

Da sagte sie mir auch schon, sie müsste mal für kleine Mädchen, schnappte sich eine meiner Taschen, grinste mich an und dann war sie auch schon verschwunden.

Wenn sie das vorhatte, was ich dachte, dann war sie noch aufgewühlter als ich. Am liebsten wäre ich ihr mit der anderen Tasche auf die Toilette gefolgt.

Ich bestellte uns noch ein großes Wasser und 2 Gläser, da ich annahm, dass Sandra bestimmt auch Durst hatte, nachdem sie ihr Werk auf der Toilette vollendet hätte.

Mit einem Lächeln auf dem Gesicht kam sie nach etwa 10 Minuten zurück, stellte die Tasche ab und meinte: „Da hast du dir ja eine schöne Auswahl zusammengestellt. Ein Teil habe ich schon eingeweiht. Es ist nicht immer einfach ohne Unterwäsche keine Spuren zu hinterlassen. Ich habe es jetzt einfach gebraucht.” Dann schaute sie mir voller Ernst in die Augen und meinte:

„Wenn du es dir auch besorgen willst, warte ich hier auf dich, oder soll ich dir dabei helfen.”

Dabei errötete sie leicht.

Ich überlegte kurz und entschied dann: „ Nein danke, aber ich muss jetzt los” ohne auf ihre Anspielung einzugehen. Nach dem wir ausgetrunken hatten bezahlte ich für uns beide, sie bückte sich um meine Taschen aufzuheben, dabei streckte sie mir ihren Hintern entgegen. Blitzschnell fuhr ich mit meiner Hand unter ihr hochgerutschtes Kleid und zog meinen Mittelfinger durch ihre feuchte haarlose Muschi.

Sie zuckte zusammen, kam hoch, drehte sich zur mir um, nahm mich in die Arme und küsste mich gierig auf den Mund.

Dann flüsterte sie mir ins Ohr: „Jetzt kannst du probieren ob dir mein Saft schmeckt.” Langsam hob ich den feuchten Finger an meine Nase um daran zu riechen. Es roch genauso wie mein Saft, ich schob den Finger in meinen Mund und leckte ihn ab.

„Bravo Schwesterlein, du bist auf dem richtigen Weg. Wenn du noch mehr willst, sag mir Bescheid.”

Ich konnte gar nicht fassen was ich getan hatte. Mit hochrotem Kopf nahm ich ihr meine Taschen ab und rannte aus dem Kaffee zu meinem Auto. Ohne mich umzudrehen raste ich los.

Ich schämte mich fürchterlich, dass meine Geilheit mit mir durchgegangen war, dann noch mit meiner Schwester. Dabei hatte ich doch zuvor die Moralische gegeben. Was sollte sie jetzt von mir denken. Vielleicht würde sie es auch noch weitererzählen. Ihrer Familie ganz bestimmt. Wie konnte ich denen nur jemals wieder unter die Augen treten.

Oder war das jetzt ein Unentschieden, ich wusste ja auch einiges über sie.

Auf einem abseits gelegenen Parkplatz hielt ich an, ich brauchte es jetzt auch ganz dringend. Mein Slip war so nass, dass ich fürchtete die Nässe würde durch meine Jeans sickern.

Gott sie Dank war der Parkplatz leer. Schnell holte ich die Tasche vom Rücksitz, die meine Schwester mit zur Toilette genommen hatte. Die Verpackung eines Dildos war aufgerissen, schnell holte ich das Ding heraus, es glänzte ganz feucht. Ich hielt es an meine Nase und roch ganz deutlich den Duft meiner Schwester. Das Luder hatte den Lustspender nicht mal gereinigt, nach dem sie sich damit vergnügt hattet. Damit wollte sich mich bestimmt schocken.

Das war endgültig zu viel für mich. Ich öffnete die meine Hose, zog sie nach unten, der nasse Slip folgte und schon war der benutzte Dildo in meiner haarigen Spalte verschwunden. Nach ein paar Stößen kam es mir heftig, ich keuchte und wand mich auf meinem Sitz und schrie.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I nervously waited in the Philadelphia International Airport baggage claim area for Angus Talbot to pass through from his return from three weeks in the Bahamas. That was half the time I’d been working for him, transferring from the Chicago office at his request. At twenty-five, I was in my first job following graduate school as a concept artist at a major architectural firm. I did artist renderings of big-ticket building projects my firm was working on. I was fully trained and licensed as an architect, having gotten my advanced degree from the University of Chicago, but my artist skills were the most in demand. I had financed my college by doing male modeling in Chicago. I hadn’t gotten back into that in Philadelphia yet, though.

I didn’t mind the wait itself in the airport. It was hot and steamy, nearly 100 degrees outside in this third week in August. But I was nervous about having been sent out to meet this plane. Talbot was a senior vice president in the Philadelphia office. He’d been in the Bahamas for three weeks helping to guide the construction of a hotel there. What I was nervous about, though, was what he’d revealed to me a week before he went out on this business trip. He’d said he’d asked for my transfer specifically because he wanted me to do more for him than paint concept pictures. He wanted me to lay down for him. Someone in the architecture department at the university had told him I would do that.

I’d laid down for men before. It’s hard for a male model to do that sort of work without doing so. The models are narcissistic to begin with to be that fussy with their bodies—and I certainly was—but laying down for photographers and commercial producers was pretty much a given in that business. One reason I’d accepted the transfer to Philadelphia, though, was to put that into my past—not the part of having sex with men, but the part of having it connected to getting work and being at the mercy of other men rather than choosing for myself.

Angus Talbot wanted me to be at his mercy. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a hunk and a half, which he was—in his early forties, but tall, handsome, and slender. There was a distinguished aspect about him, with the look of authority and gray-sideburned solidness of deserved self-confidence. It was that I didn’t want to be under anyone’s sexual control anymore. If he’d just waited a bit for me to get my bearings, I might have come to him willingly—but probably not, as I had promised myself I’d try to keep that out of the office.

I had avoided him in the week between his revealing how I had gotten to Philadelphia and what he expected from me and his departure for the Bahamas. But now he was back, and the office had directed me to pick him up at the airport. I half believed that he had told the office to send me so that I couldn’t avoid him anymore.

I did a double take when I saw Talbot enter the baggage claim area. For some reason he looked a lot sexier than he had before he’d left. Maybe I’d unconsciously adjusted to the idea of lying under him in the three weeks he’d been gone. He was walking like he owned the town and was deeply tanned and all sunny smiles when he saw me. I didn’t understand until later why I suddenly was taking notice of him.

“David,” he said, as he walked up to me, “It’s good of you to come pick me up. You’re looking good.”

“You’re looking great yourself, Mr. Talbot,” I said. “The Bahamas really suited you. That’s one deep tan you’ve got.”

“You’ve been getting a tan yourself,” he said. “And call me Angus. I trust we will be on close enough terms for that.”

“I’ve discovered the pool in my apartment building,” I answered. I didn’t think I was ready to talk about how close our terms would be.

“Sweet. An all-over tan?”

“It’s not that sort of apartment house pool,” I said, with a laugh. I only later found out why he’d asked that, and it made all the difference for me for the rest of the summer.

“You parked within a mile?” he asked, as he pulled his suitcase off the conveyer belt.

“I taxied. You live downtown. I didn’t think I’d be able to find a parking place near your place.” He lived on the eleventh-floor of a high rise on Rittenhouse Square that our firm had designed—a two-bedroom, all glass windows, corner apartment valued in the nearly $2 million range. I lived further out in a medium-rise studio apartment.

“You knew I’d ask you to come up to my apartment?” He flashed me a smile.

Apparently, I had, without thinking about it—and, beyond that, I apparently had decided I would. And that was before I’d seen him now, in the airport, and for some reason he’d made me go hard. “Uh, I guess so,” I said.

“So, you will come up to my apartment? You’ve thought about this?”

“Yes,” I said, “if that’s what you want.”

“Good boy,” he said, with a satisfied smile. I was falling in with his plans.

I hadn’t thought about much of anything else for the three weeks he’d been away. He placed his free hand on the small uydukent escort of my back to guide me as we moved out of the baggage claim area and to the taxi stand, and I did nothing to move away from him. He patted me on the ass and then squeezed it as I folded myself into the backseat of the taxi and had a hand high up on my thigh as the taxi drove us into the downtown area. As we cruised down a dimly lit street, he kissed me on the lips, and I let him. He took my hand as we kissed and put it on his basket. I’d just let him know he owned me and he was taking possession.

He fucked me on the sleek contemporary, gray-tweed sofa in his all-windows living and dining room combination. He’d first had me strip and pose and walk for him. He’d made references to me being a runway model before, and now he was cashing in on that. This is when I learned of his fetish. It’s also when I started being awakened to the reality that it was my own fetish as well. I’d been living in Chicago and concentrating on my graduate studies. It wasn’t really place for tanning. I hadn’t keyed into tanned bodies and tan lines as being erotic. But they were.

“Very nice,” he said. “You wear a Speedo at the pool?” He was sitting on the sofa. He had shucked off his shirt to show not only a muscular physique but also a deep, bronze tan. I found the tan arousing.

“Yes,” I said, realizing only at this point how good my tan was and that it revealed tan lines that showed that I wore the briefest of Speedos to the pool. It was a reflection of my having been a model; I had no trouble showing off my finely honed body.

“Come here,” he said, and that’s when I found out what a tan lines fetish was about. I walked over to him and he put an arm around my waist to hold me close in between his spread thighs, and used his other hand and his tongue to follow and play with the lines separating my tan from the areas the Speedo had covered: the curve of my buttocks, my lower groin, and a thin line around my hips. He’d taken his tie off and bound my wrists together behind my back with it—I could have easily gotten out the bonds physically, but not so easily emotionally. It was yet another symbol that he owned my body at least for this evening. An earlier lover had taught me the totality of surrender of allowing yourself to be bound, if only nominally. He’d been cruel to me while bound, and I had melted to him like to no other to that point.

Angus hummed the pleasure of playing with the transition lines, letting me know that it was the tan lines that turned him on, and eventually moving his mouth to my cock and balls and sucking me off while he held me close, my wrists bound behind my back. I came for him there, and he laughed at my surrender to him.

Later I was on my back lying across the sofa, my head on the armrest, as he hovered over me, his knees on either side of my chest and his fists trapping my now unbound wrists while he fed his cock into my throat. He was naked now, too, and this was the beginning of the revelation that I shared his tan lines fetish. I guess I’d always had, when I then thought back onto the past. I’d always noticed when a guy I saw in the communal showers or the man on top of me showed tan lines or not. I just hadn’t consciously given thought to it before. It arose now, because Talbot spoke of the fetish and had worshipped my body in this context, and because of the disappointment I felt when he had stripped off his trousers. His torso was tanned—he’d obviously gone shirtless while working in the hotel under construction in the Bahamas, but he had worn long pants. His pelvis and legs weren’t tanned. I didn’t have the tan lines to explore and enjoy on his body that he had on mine. They were evident only at his waistline.

Still, when he moved down my body and between my spread thighs, and was inside me, slow pumping me, while his fingers were still tracing the tan lines on my body from where my Speedo hit, when I reached down to palmed his butt cheeks to hold him inside me as he thrust, I was well aware that I was palming alabaster-white cheeks while a bronze-tanned muscular chest was pressing into mine, and it gave me a little extra sexual charge as he fucked me to his ejaculation.

* * * *

“Take a vacation to the ocean on the office tab,” Angus said, smiling at me. “You haven’t been to the ocean here on the East Coast yet, have you? And we’re so close here.”

“No, sir, I haven’t,” I answered. “Does the office pay for beach vacations though?” What I wanted to say was did the office pay Angus’s prostitute fees, because he certainly was making me feel like I was a prostitute for him. He’d put me together with a couple of select clients. He’d fucked me twice more in his apartment since he’d returned from the Bahamas, during which he’d complimented me on my deepening tan from visits to my apartment pool. The third time he called me to his apartment, he had a client there, who fucked me on Talbot’s bed while he watched. zeytinburnu escort Twice after that he just had me appear at a hotel room where a client was waiting for me.

Talbot had been sunning himself at his pool too, obviously wearing a Speedo as skimpy as mine was. He was developing tan lines that affected me in a way that assured me that I had the same fetish he did.

“We have some buildings going up in Trenton, New Jersey, that we need inspected and sketched. I’ll send you there and you can extend on the Jersey shore on the office dime for a few days when you’re done in Trenton. Go to a Jersey beach. Work on that tan of yours.”

And that, of course, was his motivation for giving me an expense-paid beach vacation. He wanted me to maintain a tan with lines that fed his fetish. I didn’t turn the offer down.

* * * *

The beach at the old resort town of Cape May, New Jersey, proved to be the ideal place to explore my new-found sexual fetish. There was a public bathhouse on the beach, right on Beach Avenue at the foot of South Broadway at the western end of the town beach, that served my purposes ideally. And this was a time of year—the last week in August—where guy’s tans were finely honed. Mine was. I had great tan lines from my minimalist Speedo that showed my body off to pelvis and butt-highlighting perfection for any guy so interested.

I checked into one of those old Victorian-style gingerbread-trimmed hotels between where Madison and Philadelphia Avenues opened onto Beach Avenue at its eastern end. The old hotels in this area were so impressive in their period flamboyance that I spent the morning sitting and sketching them.

In the afternoon I walked down the length of the promenade to the other side of the beach, small bag in hand, carrying two beach towels and my personal items, including two copies of my room card and, with hope, a string of condom packets and tube of lube. At the western end of the beach I settled down on the boardwalk side of where some hunky guys were playing beach volleyball. They were all guys about my age, with body-builder physiques, most with good features, and all a golden brown. They were playing just in swim suits, several of them in Speedos as skimpy as the one I was wearing. The game was been played in a desultory manner that indicated they were there more to be ogled than to compete in a game.

One of the guys, a beautiful Nordic blond, kept looking over at me. When I stood and stretched, which caused the waistband of my Speedo to dip enough to show my tan line at the waist, I saw his eyebrows go up and he smiled. Not long after that he called over to me and invited me to join them at the volleyball net, which I did. He introduced himself as Jack, a local, and he brought me onto the line next to him. It was an active game, one I knew how to hold my own in, and I was as aggressive to the ball as he was, which involved a lot of body contact between us, but a lot of success in our play as well.

When the game wound down, we all went our separate ways, but, in looking around, I saw that Jack was standing near the top of the beach, on the boardwalk, near the public shower building, his duffel bag in hand, and looking at me. When he could see that I spotted him, he stood there for a minute, the two of us eyeing each other, until he seemed sure I was watching him. Then he turned and walked to the shower building. There, beside the building, he turned again and looked at me before walking around the side and, presumably, into the building.

I got it—or at least what I assumed he was signaling. I picked up my stuff and walked up to and into the shower building. For several minutes Jack and I were the only ones in the men’s communal shower. We were both naked. We were both in erection, so there wasn’t much doubt we were both interested—and in each other. His tan lines were as perfect as the ones I had been developing. His pelvis was alabaster white, showing off a huge erection, curly blond pubes, hollows under his hips, and bulbous butt cheeks. His tan was a golden brown, his torso muscular and cut, his thighs muscled like a cyclist’s would be.

We stood next to each other, three-quarters facing, soaping up and at the ready to turn from each other at the hint of someone else coming into the shower. Jack made the first move, reaching out and tracing the tan lines below my belly and just above my trimmed black, curly pubic bush. He was familiar, at least, with the fetish. It was meaningful to me in those terms that he had touched me along the tan lines before touching my cock. I groaned and reached out for him in the same matter. We got to fingering each other’s cocks, pushing the hoods back over the bulbs, when we heard someone else coming into the shower and both turned and went upon normal business of rinsing off and going into the dressing room and toweling off, each of us watching the other as we did.

I had shorts, a T-shirt, and sandals şişli escort in my bag. I changed into those. Jack had the same and, dressed, we stood there, eyeing each other for some twenty seconds. He’d made the first moves until now. Would he do so again? There was an aching question out there. He knew it too, though.

“I’m exclusively a top,” he said.

“Perfect,” I responded.

“You want to go for a drink?” he asked.

“Sure.” I wanted more than that, but he wouldn’t have pinned down the position each of us preferred taking in sex if this wasn’t leading to having sex.

“There’s a bar called the Martini Beach nearby at Beach Avenue and Decatur.”

“I’ve heard of it,” I said. And I’d had. Angus Talbot had recommended it to me—a gay bar—when he’d told me what hotel to book at.

The bar was on the second floor. Jack told me there was another floor above that, with private rooms, that we could visit if I wanted to. There weren’t many in the bar, all men.

“The place comes alive from happy hour on,” Jack said, as he slid behind the bar and got us two beers. He’d been greeted by most of the men when we came in.

“Yes, I work here,” he said to my quizzical lift of an eyebrow. “Only part time and only in the summer months. I come to Cape May for the suntan, which I think you’ve already picked up on, but I don’t live here permanently. I like to tan with a Speedo on and I like it when others have, like you. I think maybe you understand why.”

“Yes, I understand. I agree,” I answered. “So, this isn’t your regular job?”

“No. I work most of the year in Philly and around the country from there. I’m a personal trainer for the Philadelphia Flyers, the pro ice hockey team.”

“So, fry in the summer and freeze in the winter.”

“Something like that,” he said and we both laughed. Mine was a little forced, though, and he noticed that I had cooled a bit. I noticed that he noticed and covered for my real concern.

“Then your tan can only be enjoyed in the summer and then not until you’ve developed it?” I asked.

“We have tanning booths in the team workout area. A tan—with tan lines—is something I keep up with all year round.”

“Oh, good,” I said. And then I broached my concern, coming at it from the side. “I live in Philadelphia myself. Just moved there from Chicago. I’m a junior architect, working for a big firm.” I didn’t name the firm.

“Oh, that’s good,” he said, but I discerned a new reserve coming from him as well. I was glad to hear it, though, and took a stab at clearing it all up.

“I don’t like to have my fun, like this, where I live and work, though. I like to keep it casual and away from Philadelphia.”

“Good to hear,” he said. “Me too. I try not to engage in casual sex in Philly.” And with that we were back on track to hooking up. Neither one of us was looking for something more permanent out of a meeting like this when we got home.

“So? A tour of the upstairs now?” He asked. “Or another beer?”

“Or maybe this,” I said, taking one of my room keys out of my bag and sliding it across the bar toward him. “More privacy maybe. It’s the Oscar. Do you know it?” I told him the room number.

“Everyone in here knows the Oscar,” Jack said, sliding the key card off into his palm. And there’s every reason why guys came in here would know the hotel. It was in the main line of the Victorian-style behemoths on Beach Avenue between Madison and Pennsylvania. It was tucked into the shadow of one of the largest hotels, the Grand Hotel, and probably was thought by most to be part of that hotel. Both were painted the same shade of white, probably at the same time. The Oscar, which I surmised got its name from Oscar Wilde, mercifully was overlooked by most because it wasn’t as flamboyantly decorated with curly-que trim work as the Grand Hotel was. Catering to gay men, it tried to keep a low profile while still offering a view of the beach and sea. My room, tucked in the corner of the mansard attic, had the view, but neither Jake nor I took advantage of it.

We took advantage of each other.

* * * *

When Jack came into my room, I was naked and on the bed, my cheek and chest pressed to the sheet, my tail lifted, on my knees, the knees planted at the edge of the mattress at the foot of the bed, my butt pointed at the door from the corridor. I was ready for him, in a “take what you want” position. I could hear the soft rustle of his T-shirt and shorts as he stripped them off and then his breathing as he came up between my spread legs. I felt his hands on my hips.

And then, before anything else, I felt his fingers tracing the tan lines around my lower back and upper thighs. His hands went down and around me following the tan lines to my lower belly and the curve of my upper thigh into my torso. As he traced these lines, his lips and tongue went to tracing the tan lines at my back as well.

A hand came in under me between my legs and he was fingering my cock and balls, and then my hole, thumbing it, worrying the rim, coaxing it to pucker and open for him, which it did. I was panting and trembling and his breath was getting heavier, more jagged. He began slowly milking my cock with one hand while the other roamed about, following the tan line, returning to my hole.

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This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily.

I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may inspire new work, please feel free to contact me – all E-mails will be answered to the best of my ability.

I would like to thank all of you that wrote and told me how much you like the story. Keep the letters coming.

*

“Are you going out of your mind? How could you ever agree to do something like that?” Richard screamed at the top of his voice. “You’re pulling my leg! You have got to be joking. Ibrahim is right; they are going to cut your throat. No! No! I won’t have you shacking up with some Arab bitch, even if it is for ‘God and Country’. We are one you and I, or at least I thought we were.”

It was late at night and they were sitting in Richard’s old bedroom out on the Island. “Can you keep it down? I don’t want your mom and dad to hear or know about any of this, yet.” Joseph whispered, placing his fingers over Richard’s mouth. “Just listen and keep an open mind. This may turn out to be the answer to our problems. We will be able to see each other more often then we do now and since I will work in the Metro area, I will not have to go overseas. I can serve out my duty time stateside and be with you.”

“Yes I see that, and that part is great, but what about HER?”

“To tell you the truth – I don’t know.” Joseph admitted. “I’m not going to lie to you. From what I was able to gather, she is very charming, but you know I love you and she is just a means of getting to be with you more often. It is just like agent Barns said, some men fight for their country with a gun at their shoulder —your gun is between your legs.”

“If I asked you not to do this…”

“Don’t, please don’t ask it and stop worrying it will be OK.” Joseph begged.

“But what if I were to insist! If I were to tell you that it was either give this thing up or give me up. Make a choice! What would you do?” Richard asked.

“In that case my love—–I would have to give it up. I would not do this without your blessing, Rich, darling, you mean too much to me now.”

Richard grabbed Joseph in his arms and kissed him hard. His mind going over every thing his lover had told him. He told himself that Joseph could have done this without even telling him. What would I have known? We just see each other on some weekends. He could have kept all of this to himself and just lived a double life, but he chose to confide in me and not hide anything. After all it’s not that he loves another man…. If I don’t agree to this I might loose him. And I don’t want that. It was then that Richard made his decision.

“Joseph I love you and only want you to be safe and happy. I trust you enough to know that you went over this and examined it from every possible angle and that you think you can pull it off.” He said. “I’m still leery of it, but at least I’ll have you within arms reach and not have to worry about you going overseas and being blown up on some street corner in some distant hell hole. My biggest worry has been that you would be killed and your body shipped back and that I would never know it. They only notify your next of kin, not your lover.”

“You need not have worried about that, my love, I have had you listed as my next of kin along with my adopted parents. So they will notify you as well in any event.”

Joseph had thought of this from every possible angle. After the conversation on Monday with Agent Barns, he had called the New York office of the FBI, Tuesday and was told that Barns was legitimate and that he worked out of Newark. He then called the Philadelphia office to double check and was told the same thing, that Barns was a certified agent and they were aware and supported what he was doing. Joseph then called the Newark office and was immediately directed to Agent Barns’s office where an appointment was setup to meet on Wednesday at 2 P.M. Everything was cleared with his C.O. and Agent Barns sent a car to pick him up.

At 2 P.M. he was ushered into Barns’s office where he was introduced to two other men. One of them was a Mr. Philip Jackson who was Barns’s supervisor. The other man was Mr. Steward Cook, the director of the north Jersey area office. After the initial greetings they got down to business. Joseph lost track of the time as the four of them talked for hours until about 6 p.m. when they sent out for dinner and moved the meeting to a conference room in order to eat and continue to discuss the situation. The four of them sat most of the time, except when the discussion got hot and then one or two of them paced back and forth. They tried to go over every possible problem. For one solid hour they discussed the pros and cons of Joseph leaving the Army and coming to work for the FBI. It was finally decided that this would be too risky and might raise the ‘Red Flag’ in some quarters. For now he would continue uydukent escort at the school. After graduation they could and would arrange for him to be posted to the School, where he would be carried as a part time instructor on detached duty to study Arab Culture. As an instructor, if he needed a car and an off base apartment it would appear normal for him to have these. His appointment to the position would also ‘appear normal’ as it was expected that he would graduate as one of the top students. The continuing need for teachers of Arabic almost guaranteed that he be retained at the school, where he could train others and not waist his talent overseas.

The main sore point and bone of contention, turned out to be the amount of control needed to ‘handle’ him. They discussed how closely they wanted to monitor him. He pointed out that his need for freedom of movement was vital to gaining the needed information. He insisted that he was not to be bugged or monitored in any way. He would report anything that he heard to them either in person, after setting up a meeting or if need be by phone. He would call Barns every day and by use of a catch phrase inform him if he was ok or if he had run into trouble by not using it. Above all the girl was not to be followed or interfered with. His romance with her was to be private. Again Joseph stressed that the father would be a problem.

“You are going to have to deal with that as best you can,” said one of the bosses. “You know what you have to do. We are all grown ups here and we know it is part of the culture.”

“Whose culture?” Joseph asked. “Arab or American?”

“Arab culture you idiot.” Philip said thinking that Joseph was fooling around.

“I didn’t know that Jay Edgar Hover was an Arab.” Joseph offered.

“Touche! Now that’s very funny. However, I’m sure Joseph will rise to the occasion.” Barns smiled and changed the subject. “Are you going to need a car?”

“I think so. Yes! I will need one. Something fast and fancy.” Joseph said, his mind toying with the idea of a fast sports car.

“Don’t get any fancy ideas. You’ll have to settle for something less conspicuous, like a second hand car with a good engine that’s in passable condition. These people are not fools! You show up, out of the blue, with a new car and someone is going to add one and one and come up with two. We would not want them to smell a rat would we?”

“OK, I see your point. Can’t blame a guy for trying? When is this going to start? Joseph asked.

“I think you should start as soon as you can set up a “date”. At least give her a call and arrange a visit –you know – to break the ice.” Said one of the bosses.

“That’s not the way it’s done. Everything must go through the father. This Monday I will call the father and arrange a meeting with him. I have to formally ask his permission, perhaps negotiate and set up the “ground rules”. He said.

“Why wait till Monday?” they asked.

“Sorry but I had already planned a trip to Long Island this weekend to visit a friend and his family.” He said. “And besides I need time to get adjusted to this new situation.”

“Ahhhh. Who is this friend and can they be trusted?”

“First of all, that’s none of your business!” he started to say, but was stopped by the questioner.

“Everything you do, and everyone you associate with from now on – is our business. We are not going to let you run around like a loose cannon. We will control your every movement.”

Before Joseph could protest, Barns raised his objection… “No Philip, not this time. It is not going to be that kind of operation. We have never ever had the chance to get anyone, this close into that community. No Arab, let alone a 100 percent American, has ever penetrated as deeply as Joseph has. The reason for this is that we strangle our informers and yes, even our own agents to such an extent that they cannot function. I want Joseph to be free to do what he wants, even to the point of being completely irresponsible. Just like a ‘normal’ sex driven young American GI who just happened to fall into this situation. It was that behavior that got him into this situation to begin with and to change it now would tip them off and place him in more danger. He’s my operative and that’s the way I see it going down.”

“Thank you, Bill, I really have no objection to your knowing who these people are – you just have to promise not to hassle them.” Joseph stated.

“Philip, I think Bill is right on this one. It makes sense, and since I am the one that will have to report to the director… that’s how it will be. Joseph you will report in to Bill and I expect reports every week or if you get something important bring it to me directly. The both of you will be careful – I don’t want this messed up. Philip, lets leave them alone to work out their plan of action. Results are what I want. Until now we have not had much luck with the usual methods. Let’s see what this ‘fucking method’ can do. If nothing else, we can chalk it off to having provided entertainment to one of our service personnel, before we ship zeytinburnu escort him overseas.” He said, getting up and walking over to Joseph extending his hand to him and wishing him and Bill ‘Good Hunting’.

After leaving Bill’s office a little after 10:30 pm, Joseph placed two calls. The first was to Richard to set up the upcoming weekend visit. Joseph had agreed to the visit after Richard had assured him that both his mother and father had been told that Joseph’s homosexuality was to be kept a secret because of the Army. Once he was out of the service it could come out into the open. Richard was happy to hear that Joseph had finally decided that this weekend was going to be his first visit. He assured Joseph not to get anxious or nervous about meeting them. He rattled on and on about how much they would all like each other.

“Hey, are you sure that you are not the nervous one here. I think you are going to have kittens over this.” He jested.

“Right you are! I just want it to go smoothly for the sake of all of us.”

“It will, babe! Look I have to make another call before it gets too late— Talk to you tomorrow. Love you, sleep well byeeeeeeeee.”

His next call was to Fazzi Muhammad, the father of Kasemah the lovely girl he had found so appealing. He punched in his number and waited for the phone to be answered.

“Hello, this is the Muhammad residence, how can I help you?” Answered a heavily accented male voice.”

“This is Joseph Benson. I know it’s late, but is Mr. Muhammad at home? I would like to speak with him.”

“Nobody just calls to speak to him like this, not at this hour. What is it that you wish to talk to him about, perhaps I can help you?”

“I think not — It is about his daughter — If you just tell him my name — Joseph Benson, I’m sure he will want to come to the phone.”

After a few seconds, “Yussef, ‘Kyf Halk,’ how are you? A voice asked. “Fazzi here. It is so nice to hear your voice – at last. I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you. Did you forget about us?”

“A thousand apologies to you, your family and your daughter. What can I tell you? I have been working so hard that I have had very little time to myself. However both you and your daughter have not been far from my thoughts. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“But of cause I forgive you. When one is young and how you Americans say it, hot, like you— OHHHHh youth is so wasted on young people.” He said trying to sound like a modern man. “But tell me, when are we going to see you again? Both my daughter and I have looked forward to your coming to call.”

Thinking quickly, Joseph responded, “I would have contacted you earlier, but I have no easy way of coming to Paterson. It is such a hassle to have to go into New York first and then take a bus to Paterson. With the bus schedules so uncoordinated I think it would be faster if I walked there from here. I have been looking around for a cheep car to buy. Once I have a car I will be able to drive up there almost everyday after work. Then I can really get to know you and your family and court your lovely daughter the way she should be courted. As much as I would like it to be sooner it looks like that will take a week or two.” And then in a saddened voice added, “Maybe the weekend after this coming one.”

“Is transportation the only problem you have?”

“Well aside from a visit to relatives of a friend on Long Island this weekend, I have no other commitments.” Joseph told him.

“What time do you finish school during the week?”

“I’m off from 1600 hours till 0900 hours the next morning, why do you ask?”

“Well let’s see, — from your base it takes about an hour and half to get to Paterson by car, is that right?”

“Yes I should think so.” Joseph informed him.

“I was just thinking,” he said. “I can send a car and driver down there to pick you up and bring you back here. You can have dinner with my family and me and we can have our “talk” and then perhaps you could visit with Kasemah. You can spend the night in our Guest house and the driver will drop you at the base in the morning. How does that sound, Yussef?”

“That’s most kind of you – are you sure it would be no trouble or a problem.

“None whatever, only too glad to do it. I would however suggest one thing. You pack the clothes that you will need for class on Tuesday morning. That way you will be ready and able to go right to class. I know how rough teachers can be with late students. Mine used to take a strap to my backside.”

“Well here in the army I would most likely draw a kitchen police detail for punishment. However, that suggestion of yours sounds wonderful, and should save my backside! How does this Monday evening sound? Will that be good with you?” Joseph inquired.

“Yes that is good, Monday night it is then. Give me all the directions about where to pick you up and I’ll make all the arrangements tomorrow.” Fazzi said.

After giving him the information and making sure he had it right, Joseph said, “One thing more. Would you permit şişli escort me to speak to your daughter now? I would like to reassure her that I have not forgotten her or her beautiful eyes. They have been in all my dreams.”

“I’m sure she would love to hear that, but it is past her bedtime and she is preparing for bed now. I will convey your message and I’m sure she misses seeing your blue eyes, perhaps even as much as I do. ‘Mesaa El Kair’ good evening Yussef, Till Monday then.

Saturday afternoon, after barracks inspection, Joseph had taken a bus into the city where he met Richard and the two of them had taken a train to the Long Island home of Richard’s parents. They had been so nice and accommodating. His father had started a Bar-b-Cue and was cooking all kinds of goodies. His mother busied herself making them drinks while they sat on the back porch deck enjoying the cool September day. Rich and Joseph were sitting in the porch swing holding hands and rocking back and forth, looking out at the clean white sand of the shoreline. His mother handed them each a Seven and Seven and they all became comfortable with each other. Richard told his parents how they had met; naturally leaving out some of the details, and Joseph answered their questions. Once more he and Rich stressed the importance of keeping their private lives secret. Richard’s parents assured both of them that as far as anyone else was concerned, Richard and Joseph were just good friends. After eating, they decided to go for a walk on the beach to watch the sun go down. Joseph insisted that Richard’s mom and dad join them. Leaving their shoes behind, barefooted, the four of them walked for what seamed like hours enjoying the cool sand filtering through their toes as they playfully splashed each other and dodged the water lapping up on the beach. About 11 p.m. Richard Senior took his wife back to the house leaving the two lovers alone on the beach.

“They are really great people. I love them. They made me feel like I was their son.” Joseph whispered to his lover as they headed back toward the house. “We better get to bed also, but first I have some news to tell you. It might even cause our first real fight.”

“It will keep till we are in bed. If we are ever going to have a fight I want it to be in bed. That way we can make-up by having hot wild sex afterward.” He jested.

And so it was after they were alone sitting in Richard’s old bedroom that Joseph told him about his trip into Paterson. Rich, at first was angry, confused and hurt, but after ranting and raving a bit, he came to accept the situation and to see the possibilities.

“Now that we have had our ‘fight’, is it time for the making-up part yet?” Richard asked.

“You bet your sweet ass it is,” Joseph said as he reached out and pulled Richard to himself kissing him deeply. His hands roamed over the body of his lover as his lips followed his fingers. Kissing and licking and taking little love bites. Both of them were gasping and moaning. “God you taste wonderful. I could feed on you 24/7. That ‘Old Spice’ cologne of yours drives me wild. Grrrrrr. You know that for a long time after that first weekend we spent together, every time I thought of you, that odor flooded back into my brain.”

“Glad you like it baby, I wore it just for you. Are you feeling horny?” Richard asked, as he started to remove Joseph’s clothes, piece by piece. He knew the answer already because his fingers brushed against Joseph’s cock, which was as hard as, steel and was already leaking precum. Richard’s fingers became covered with the nectar that covered Joseph’s cock head and he placed his fingers against Joseph’s lips. Joseph sucked them in, licking the precious fluid off of them. Then Richard took a taste for himself, smearing the stickiness around his own lips and then pressing them against Joseph’s. Joseph ran his tongue over Richard’s lips and let his own pre-cum scented saliva flow into Richard’s eager mouth.

Richard took Joseph’s hands in his and guided him toward the bed. Joseph, lying down naked on the bed pulled a pillow under his ass, drew his legs up and spread them wide. “Take me baby,” he whispered.

“Oh Babe, I love you so much,” Richard whispered to him and striping himself naked he reached into the night table drawer, and removed the lube and condoms he had stored there. Joseph taking two condoms placed one quickly on his own cock and then very slowly and seductively unrolled the other onto Richard’s hard cock. Richard taking the lube applied some to his condom covered fuck stick. Lifting Joseph’s legs onto his own shoulders he positioned his body so that his cock was pressing against Joseph’s waiting pulsating man pussy.

Joseph shuddered as he slowly became fully impaled. He felt Richard’s cock move steadily but slowly into him until he could feel the weight of his lover’s hairy balls on his ass. “Aawww. Oh, baby,” he groaned, reaching up and running his fingers through Richard’s chest hair, searching out and finding the hardened nipples that erupted like mountain peaks above a dark forest. He touched them, lightly scratching them with his nails, then ran the tips of his fingers around the nipples circling them. Richard shuttered and moaned as Joseph pinched and grabbed the hard, erect points at the same moment as he squeezed Richard’s hard cock with the muscles of his ass. Richard gave a shuddering moan and began to ‘long dick’ his partner slowly.

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Note: All characters in this story are 18 years of age or older, and are based on no real life people.

*****

It was nearing the end of the summer before my senior year of high school and a few of my friends who had just graduated invited me to come along with them to the public pool at the park in our town. I thought it would be fun, and besides, it was probably going to be that last time that all of us would be together for a while. One of them was going to the community college here in town, and the other two were going to college out of state. So, wanting to spend what remaining time I had left with them, I decided to go.

We spent the day at the crowded pool, splashing and dunking each other and just having a good time. It was at least four hours before we decided to get out and, by that time, the pool was considerably less crowded. There were only three girls that looked as if they could be new freshmen this year, and a guy that looked about my age. We got out and started to walk back to the locker room before I realized I had forgotten something.

“Damn it,” I said, “I forgot to grab a towel when I left home.”

“You can use mine,” was my friend Connor’s response.

“Like I want to do that. I have no idea where it’s been… or what’s been on it,” I said jokingly but seriously at the same time. “I’ll just sit here and air dry for a little bit.”

“Ok, see you Jase,” my friends replied (Jason is my name, but they call me Jase).

As my friends headed back to the locker room to change, I searched for a chair in a relatively sunny area so I could dry off faster. I found one and sat down as I watched the girls playing in the water (there wasn’t much else to do). Then I watched the guy for a few minutes. He seemed to be a swimmer, because he was just doing laps. He was pretty fast too. After a few more laps, though, he too went to the locker room and didn’t return.

I sat there, bored and staring blankly into space. The sound of the girls splashing each other started to die down. This bored me even more. My hands had been resting on my crotch for a few minutes by this point, not in a sexual manner, I just didn’t have any other place to put them: the chair I was sitting in had no arms. However, it seemed that my extreme boredom had induced an erection. I looked around to see if either the girls or the lifeguard had noticed, but they gave no indication that they did.

At that point, I was the only guy out there, and the pool would be closing in an hour so I knew that there would be no one left in the men’s locker room. I decided that it would be safe enough buca escort to go “relieve myself” in there without getting caught. So, I slowly stood up and made my way to the locker room with my hardon leading the way.

“Hello,” I said when I entered. “Is anyone in here?”

Like I had guessed, there was no one in the room except me. I figured that now would be as good a time as any and just dropped my swim trunks right inside the door. My seven inch, erect penis slapped my hairless stomach as it sprang free from the confines of my still damp swim suit. The thought of what I was about to do had me so horny that I was already leaking precum. Ever since I had discovered masturbation and porn, I had had a huge public masturbation/sex fetish.

I made my way, naked, past the showers and the toilet stalls, to the lockers. Here, there were a few benches that people could sit on as they got changed. I sat on the one that was closest to the locker that I had chosen, laid back on it, and wrapped my hand around my aching cock. It felt so good that I let a moan escape my lips as I closed my eyes. My other hand slid up my hairless chest only to stop at my left nipple. My fingers gently pinched it and I let out another moan, this time a little quieter.

My right hand (the one that was on my dick) had started to pump up and down on my erection with out me even thinking about it. Within a few seconds, my entire penis was slick and shining with precum. I was so horny that I gathered up some of the transparent fluid in my hand and brought it to my mouth. I stuck out my tongue and tasted the saltiness of it. I had never had the will to taste my own semen, but I always loved to taste my precum.

I let my had drift back down to my cock, and then I really started to go at it. My hand was moving jacking my cock faster than it ever had before. I think it may have had something to do with the fact that I was living one of my most desired fantasies for the first time. The thrill of the fact that someone could walk in this locker room at any moment and see what I was doing, was driving me crazy with sexual pleasure.

I was very near to cumming when I heard a cough come from over by the area where the toilet stalls were. My eyes jerked open and my hand let go of my, still very erect, dick. I sat up and looked back that way only to see the guy that had been out in the pool swimming laps. I reached for my swim trunks on the floor, and tried my best to cover my lower half with them.

I looked back at him and started to say, “Sorry,” but that’s when I noticed that he was naked çağlayan escort as well. Now, that’s to be expected in a public pool locker room, but what really got me was that, not only was he naked, but he had an erection as well. He seemed to have been pleasuring himself while watching me masturbating on the bench.

“I’m the one that should be sorry,” he said when he realized what I was getting ready to say. “It looked like you were having some fun.”

“Well, just a little,” I tried to say jokingly.

“Well, you don’t have to stop just because I am here. I found the show pretty entertaining if you know what I mean,” he said as he walked up to the bench and sat down next to me.

I was pretty sure that I did know what he meant, but I wasn’t sure how to tell him that I wasn’t gay. While I was trying to figure out a way to tell him, I saw his hand move down towards my swim trunks and grab them. Before I could even say anything, he pulled them away from my lap and we were both looking at my, still rock hard, cock.

“I’m not gay,” I said, a little scared of what was going to happen now. The truth was, however, I was actually trying to convince myself rather than him. There were a few times, over the last few months at school, that I had caught myself staring at some of the other guys in the shower after gym class. That was it, though. I had never done anything with another guy, and I was still very attracted to girls.

“The fact that you’re still hard as steel tells me that you’re at least bi,” he said as I felt the warmth of his right hand wrap around my dick.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, not wanting the pool staff at the front desk to hear.

Having another person’s hand on my cock for the first time felt so amazingly good. Then he started to stroke it up and down. I let my head fall back and closed my eyes as he did was jacking me off. I was feeling a pleasure like none I had ever felt before. Then I remembered something: his cock was still hard as well. I lifted my left hand and started to each for his five inches of hard dick.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said to me.

That was all it took for me to know that I wanted to. As my hand wrapped itself around has erection I said, “Well, you didn’t have to do it for me. It’s only common courtesy to reciprocate.”

He smiled at me and, as we tugged on each other’s cocks, I turned to look at him and check him out a little more than I could while he was in the pool. He was completely hairless, as swimmers usually are, except for the blonde hair on his head. çankaya escort He looked as if he was about six feet tall and was fairly skinny (maybe 150 pounds).

We sat there in silence for a while, stroking each other, when all of a sudden he s let go of my penis, stood up, and said, “Lay back down like you were earlier.”

“Why,” I asked.

“Just do it. You’ll love it,” was his response.

So, I did as he bid me and was surprised by what happened next. Mere seconds after I had lain down and closed my eyes, I felt a hot wet something on my dick that caused me to open them up again. When I looked down, I saw his face bobbing up and down on my cock. Whatever I was telling myself earlier about not wanting to hook up with another guy, was forgotten. His lips on my cock was the hottest thing I could think of at that moment. So hot, in fact, that I wanted to give it a try.

“Hey, if I turn on my side you can fit up here and I can suck you off too,” I told him.

“You sure you want to do that,” he asked. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

And with that, I turned on my side and he laid down next to me with his cock in my face and mine in his. He went straight back to sucking mine, but I was just a little hesitant: this was the first time I had ever done anything like this. I had never even been with a girl before. Very slowly, I leaned forward and licked the drop of clear fluid at the tip of his penis. It tasted great, so I leaned in and licked the tip of his dick again.

That second lick caused him to moan on my cock and when he did, it felt so good that I didn’t even think. I just opened my mouth as wide as it would go, and slid it all the way down the length of his shaft. Just like that, we were there on the bench, in the locker room of the public pool, sucking eagerly at each other’s hard dicks.

It wasn’t long before I started to feel my orgasm coming on. I felt the familiar tingling sensation in my balls and knew that I would not last much longer. And that’s when I felt and heard him moan again, and few seconds later, his hot and salty seed was splashing out onto my tongue.

When I tasted his semen in my mouth, that was it for me. I opened my mouth and, with his cock pointing and spraying at my face, said, “Oh, fuck,” just quiet enough to where the staff at the front desk wouldn’t hear as I came in his mouth. He was obviously more skilled than me as he swallowed every drop and didn’t take his mouth off by accident only to get sprayed in the face. I liked the feeling of his come covering my face though.

When he finally released my cock from his mouth he looked up at me and said, “Looks like you need a shower!”

“I know, but I don’t have a towel,” I replied.

“You can use mine,” he said. “My name’s Luke, by the way.

“I’m Jason,” I said.

And with that, we headed to the showers.

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This story is based on true events. Smitty came to me after my disastrous first time, as told in Bait and Switch. He was, undeniably and overwhelming, my Gift of “deeply abiding love,” but the relationship ended after thirteen wonderful years when Smitty died.

*

PART I

The tornado came in the night, tossed trucks and cars from I-10, and scoured away several neighborhoods on the southwest side of Houston. I was lucky; I lived on the northwest side.

As a survivor and morbid fan of tornadoes, I became a longtime volunteer of the city’s emergency management team. Over the years I did get many opportunities to witness destruction that disobeyed the laws of physics and I did witness the destruction of lives. The latter I endured for the former (I did say it was a morbid fascination).

Arriving to the buzz of activity at the center, I got my assignment, got my saws, and got the hell of the confusion. Out of that confusion, however, stepped a man that brought to mind the brute strength of a brand of paper towel. Carrying the same brand of saws as I did, he walked toward me, and extended a hand.

“Horton Schmittbehr, he said.”

“Interesting name,” I said.

“I get that a lot,” he said and smiled. His nice sunny smile, I thought, goes well with his deep tan. He’s probably in construction.

“Call me Smitty, and what do I call you?”

“I’m Arnie; well, Arnold, but—”

“Yeah, I don’t like Horton,” he said.

We both laugh.

“The truck’s over there, if you wanna get going” I said and watched him walked over to stow his gear. I lingered to look at his powerful back and breadbox of an ass. Woof!

“We’re going over to Lang Street,” I said and gave him the map. “A lot of trees blocking the road. We gotta get the haulers in there.”

“Some fuckin’ storm, huh?” he asked.

“That’s the truth. I heard some people died.”

“Yeah, I heard that too,” Smitty said, examining his fingers. “They don’t know who the folks are yet, do they?”

“I don’t think so; it’s too early,” I said and occasionally looked at him. Normally, I noticed something about a guy’s body: beefy, chiseled ass, muscular legs, tan (with no pesky lines), hairy, tall—well, you get the picture. Yet, the thing that attracted me most is the way Smitty spoke, as if he’d known me all his life.

Sun teased on the way to Lang Street. The system that had brought the tornado moved east but the weather folks predicted scattered thunderstorms, some possibly severe. We saw damage increase as we approached the hardest hit area. Trashcans, lawn furniture, and the odd toy littered the streets. Limbs, leaves, and pieces of wood lay on manicured lawns, and more than once we stopped to clear away a large limb or entire tree.

Lang Street looked bombed. Houses lay open like wombs. People with stricken expressions sifted through what was left of their lives. We parked on the corner of Weaver and Lang to cut away the first of many trees that had fallen across the road, across wires, or across cars.

“We don’t touch the trees across the wires,” I said.

“Good,” I wasn’t going to,” Smitty said.

“Well, let’s get to it,” I said reaching for a saw at the same time Smitty did. The warmth of his touch sparked electricity—something I’ve never felt from anyone. Hell, I just thought that was something written in romance novels.

“Go ahead,” he said, “I’ll take this one.”

I checked his clear, light-blue eyes to see if he felt the same thing. A slight smile appeared quickly before turning to an expression of effort. He felt something. He lowered his eyes, the lashes batting in slow motion, and touched a hand to his thick beard. He said nothing about the electric touch, only cleared his throat and yanked away the saw.

We talk about backgrounds during breaks. He used to live in Minneapolis. “We are practically neighbors,” I said. :”I used to live in Hudson, Wisconsin. We had both served our country for the four confusing years after Vietnam and we both had found jobs in construction. During lunch, we really got to know each other.

“You don’t have much of a tan,” he said, “You must be management.”

“Good eye,” I said. “I’m too fuckin old to be out there.”

“You don’t look old; you probably aren’t starin’ down forty,” he said with a smile.

“Hell, if I aint,” I said. I’ve stared down the fucker and trampled all over it.”

He chuckled and lightly punched me on the arm. I looked at him the way I looked at something I wanted. He returned the look briefly then looked away.

“Whoa, we know my age. Come on, give,” I said.

He stood, arms measuring the length of nothing, and said, “Guess.”

“Tight body, few wrinkles, no gray in your chest hair; I’d say thirty, easy.”

“I’ll take that. You’re pretty tight yourself,” he said and leaned into me.

If that wasn’t a signal, then I needed to get my radar checked. But just to make sure, as he talked, I rested my hand on his leg for a moment. sarıyer escort He only looked down and continued talking.

“You know I have been in this town for almost a year and haven’t met anybody. Did you have that problem when you moved here?”

“Not really,” I began. I had to speak carefully. Even if the signs were there—the touching, the glances, and the keywords—I could have the guy all wrong. “I was in a relationship that moved us here, but it ended.” Again, I patted his leg and asked, “What about you?”

“I just wanted to get away from the winter,” he said.

Safe answer, I thought. “So, why are you having a problem meeting people?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said looking into my eyes again. What he didn’t say with his words, he said with his eyes. The look was one of longing, a weariness that guys like us recognized immediately. I saw struggle, sadness, and I saw a need. I saw these things because, now, they resided in me.

I didn’t know what to say to that but I did know I wanted to kiss his full lips. I wanted to run my hands along his face and cup his furry chin. At that moment, his dark-pink lips had my attention; yet, had I looked skyward, I would have noticed the cumulus clouds gathering to the southwest of the city.

Also, southwest of the city the sound of cleanup came in the form of trucks hauling debris, saws cutting through gigantic trunks, and the creek of cherry pickers. Lunch over and dinner hours away, I felt hungry again, but it wasn’t the type of hunger food satisfied. The heat had forced us to remove our shirts and the hard work had brought the musk of our effort. Smitty’s was intoxicating.

Each time he brushed my skin with his furry arm, I tingled, and each time I tingled, my cock hardened and oozed precum. When he bent to pick up debris, my mouth went dry. The perfect image of masculinity, he had musculature that complimented the thick fur on his chest, fur the same color as the hair on his chin. Only it curled in confusion the length of his torso and rioted with lighter shades of brown in the valley of his pecs (Give me fur on man and I’ll max my plastic).

By late evening, the sun completely abandoned us as violence in the form of green and gray ragged clouds approached from the southwest.

“Looks like we’re getting’ another round,” Smitty said.

“Let’s just hope nothin’ drops outta those,” I said, pointing to a group of nasty green clouds with an equally green rain shield below them.

The wind began to blow, the first warning that this hard-hit area was about to be hit again. As we ran for the truck, between stalks of rain, my experience with tornadoes gave me a bad feeling about sitting exposed. Even if the approaching green clouds camouflaged nothing, any debris could be easily picked up and flung through the windshield by a nasty gust.

I looked at Smitty, who nodded, and we ran across Weaver Street to a convenience store. Bursting through the door, pushed by a gust of wind, we startled a clerk, who watched a few plastic carousels toppled from the counter.

“Sorry,” Smitty and I said in unison, then looked at each other and laughed.

As soon as we arrived, wind-blown rain scoured the large windows of the storefront, but large boards covered the pane-less windows on the store’s southwest side. The large windows of the store echoed in my mind as I watched ocean green drapes of rain rise above the tree line of the neighborhood that only the night before suffered the wrath of a EF3 tornado. Except, this chaos approached from due west.

However, the heavy rain and blast of wind, for the moment, didn’t cause much concern as soon as we realized it was only a nasty Houston thunderstorm. It was inevitable, I thought, that the storm should strike with explosive force. After all, Houston around mid-June became a giant sauna: the perfect conditions for explosive thunderstorms.

“Fuji-who?” Smitty asked more playfully than anything.

“The Fujita scale,” I explained to the clerk and Smitty, “has five levels to it—Either of you watched The Weather Channel®? How about Twister?”

“You kiddin’?” Smitty asked and the clerk chuckled.

“Don’t give me that shit, Smitty,” I said. “I’m not the only geek standing here. What about the shortwave radio you said you built from scratch?”

“Oh, well that’s just a hobby,” he said looking a little sheepish. “Besides, there are a lot of radio operators.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think there are many that build their own radios from scratch.”

“Anyway, the Fajita scale?” he reminded and gave that killer grin while playfully collaring me. As old as we were, it seemed great to joke around like two big kids. And strangely, Smitty had brought out the kid in me that life had scared into a dark cave that had become my soul.

The moment, however, ended as soon as it began when lightning scratched the sky and followed with a tremendous crash of thunder that rolled deep into our cores. I felt the thunder sefaköy escort roll in my balls, saw the wind bend trees forward, and watch draperies of rain chase each other down Weaver Street. And still the low rumble persisted. Lightning flashed hateful eyes and thunder pounded its fists into the ground, while wind collapsed structures that were a splinter from falling anyway.

We saw the soundless screams of scattering survivors as wind picked up leaves, limbs, and loose debris to send them flying in our directions. As I watched the calamity, I remembered what I had noticed when I walked into the store—the large windows.

“Freezer! Where’s your freezer?” I yelled at the clerk.

PART 2

We rushed into the frigid safety of the freezer just as glass shattered and as unrecognized objects hit the walls, and when the store pitched and bucked, I looked at the terrified clerk and trembled. Whether from the cold or the danger, I didn’t know; yet, when I looked at Smitty, a soundless peace settled over me. I saw his eyes soften, I saw his wry smile, and I felt my own smile form. Amid potential death, it seemed, I found solace in a man I had met only hours before. If we survived, I thought, I wanted to get to know the man who brought peace to me.

Outside the freezer, destruction pushed aside calm. Objects continued to fly about the store, the wind bashed anger into the store with growing force and at tremendous volume. But the maelstrom lasted no more than five minutes. Everything suddenly stopped, replaced by the steady hum of the freezer’s generator. At least we still had electricity, I thought, but before the thought passed through my mind, the generator whirred to a pathetic stop.

“Wait,” I said as the clerk and Smitty began to move toward the door.

“What?” Smitty asked.

“Sometimes, tornadoes strike when it gets like this,” I said, not really hearing how odd my comment was, but they both waited and craned their heads in the same way I did. After several embarrassing moments, I looked at them and hunched my shoulders to continued silence. “I guess it’s over.”

Smitty patty my shoulder and moved to the door. “Sounds like it,” he said, but he didn’t speak in condescension. His tone communicated that I only wanted to keep them safe. And the hand he placed on my shoulder sent shivers through me.

A rush of tropical air met us when we left the chilled air of the freezer.

“What a mess,” Smitty said as we stumbled through the confusion of the soggy store. Most of the merchandise had been blown to the floor, confused with leaves and limbs. Water dripped from the ceiling and exposed wires hung in places where tiles were ripped away. We saw that most of the wood we had cleared still sat in large piles, but a few pieces had rolled back into Lang Street, along with debris from already destroyed property. More trees stretched across the street and the debris that had litter lawns was now strewn across the street in the direction of the convenience store.

Slowly the clouds moved passed, trees drooped like battle-weary soldiers, and the sun, seeming to mock the already weary survivors of last night’s tornado, steamed the air.

“Poor folks,” Smitty said as we stood outside the store. “It feels like being kicked when you’re already down,” he said looking at me with slightly sad eyes.

“We need to see what we can do,” I said.

He nodded but understood that nothing more could be salvaged from a possible second tornado striking in as many days. Again, we cut away trees, moved large objects to the side, and set out cones to identify downed power lines.

We sat in the truck listening to the staticky radio and watching survivors return to their waterlogged property.

“I don’t think it was a tornado,” I said.

“Why not?” Smitty asked. “You saw what it did to the street, to the store; sure as hell looked like something came through here,” he said while watching a boy, his blue cut-off overalls stained with streaks of mud. The boy sat on a big wheel and watched his mother gather soggy clothes from the wreckage of their home. “Where do you suppose they’ll go?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Probably to a shelter, maybe stay with relatives.”

“Don’t seem right,” he mumbled more than spoke.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

Again, the sadness returned to his eyes. “My house wasn’t touched. I’m going to a warm, dry house; and, I don’t have to start over,” he said. Nodding in the direction of the kid on the big wheel, he asked, “And what do you tell that little fella when he starts cryin’ about wanting to go home?”

I watched his eyes darken in deeper sadness. “I don’t know,” I said and took his hand. It seemed the natural thing to do: comfort a friend, a lover, perhaps. He rested my hand between his and smiled at me. Yet, his expression mirrored my sorrow, longing, and need. “You wanna hang out?” I asked as casually as my husky voice would allow.

“Yeah, I’d like to have seyrantepe escort a beer and feel grateful.”

“Grateful,” I repeated. It seemed the perfect word for what we were.

I looked into his glistening eyes, and for a moment the sadness and longing had been replaced with my own images; and as much as I wanted to reside in them, I settled for the squeeze of his hand as the sun lowered over a wet row of trees and over a neighborhood forever changed.

My initial motivation came from lust, that hunger that caused men like Smitty and I to pursue its end. Yet, as Smitty stood at the kitchen counter in my apartment, I realized that my motivation had taken another direction. No doubt I hungered for him, but I rapidly grew connected to him. I ached as I had when I’d pursued my first lover. I considered possibilities I had long since buried when people who meant the most to me left quickly, left with bonds still solidified, and left before they could make an indelible mark on my life.

Smitty, my tall hairy man of desire, pulled more than lust from me; he pulled completion. Yes, he completed me.

“You know,” he said, leaning on me as we both enjoyed cold ham and cheese, “I never thought a dry ham and cheese sandwich could taste so good.”

“Right? I’m attacking this sandwich like it was the only food I had today,” I said trying not to be too obvious at trailing the length of his body with my eyes.

I started at his booted feet and moved up his body until I settled on his lips, dark-pink and full. I studied the way they part when he took a bite, spreading briefly when his mouth widened around the sandwich. The gusto with which he chewed, straining the fuzzed jaw muscles in his tanned face. And the enjoyment in his eyes when he drank down the cold beer recalled his floating blissfully on cool, blue water.

“Ten dollars for your thoughts,” he said with a grin. “Inflation.”

“Truth?”

“If you can,” he said and sat on the loveseat, one of four pieces in my entire living room.

I sat beside him and looked into the cool, blue water. “I think you already know.”

He smiled. “I knew when our hands first touched,” he said.

I ran my hand under his damp shirt, feeling the hardness of his pecs. He ran fire across mine. And the calm that lowered over me in the freezer returned.

“So, what do I know?” he asked.

“I’m so turned on by you,” I said but shook my head. “No, that’s not what I mean.” I continued to rub his chest but looked away to find the words.

“Completion,” he said and lifted my eyes to his.

My smile widened; thoughts flooded my mind. I had so much to tell him about my feelings, my longings, and my needs.

“I’ve been looking for you all of my life,” he said.

“But you hardly know me,” I said and realized those were the wrong words, too.

“Truth?” he asked.

I nodded.

“I believe that we have lots of chances at love, but, if we’re lucky, we find someone to make us whole.”

“Completion,” I said.

“Yes, completion. The first time I saw you,” he said, looking at his hands, “I felt it—a need, a longing, a—”

I couldn’t resist. I covered his mouth in a breathless kiss. The softness of his lips welcomed me and we fell back into heady desire. I saw in my mind magnets pull apart only to slam back together. I saw moths flutter into fire, but this time I saw both of us floating in cool, blue water.

“Come,” I said, needing no other words. He followed me into the shadows of my bedroom, lit by the glow of a small bedside lamp. I began to undress, but he moved my hands away and undid the first button on my shirt. With trembling fingers, I watched him slowly undo each one before placing the fire of his palm to my chest. The warmth radiated to every inch of my tingling skin. We held each other’s gaze, and my eyes fell on his lips, dark-pink lips that whispered to me but I couldn’t hear. I moved closer.

It was a chant, word following word, lyrical repetition: “Love times love times love times love…”

I listened to the sweet sound and began the low chant in my mind until I heard the words pass my lips as he continued slowly and loving undressing me.

I stood in the coolness of the bedroom tingling from his casual touch.

“Don’t move,” he said. “Just let me look at you.”

As soon as he undressed we stood inches apart, our bodies making no contact, only our fingertips writing desire in feathery touches on our skin. I leaned in to drink but he only allowed a touch of lips, only allowed a tweak of nipples—my hand to his, his to mine, and only allowed light sparring of our gorged cocks.

“Hold me, Arnie,” he said with eyes glistening in the waning light. “Complete me.”

And as I opened my arms to him, he turned and backed into my embrace, causing my cock to nestle between his warm hairy ass. “I just want to wrap you around me like a blanket,” he said and resumed the low chant.

We swayed to no music, drowsed in our mixing scents, and pressed together. I tightened my embrace as if I wanted our souls to touch, and then he moved to face me and covered my mouth in a sensual kiss.

I ached for him, my body wanted hurry, but my mind refused. I enjoyed the slow rise of our desire, our feathery touches, and anticipated our completion.