I was taking the bus back to school. I had some time to think. Tom. Love. Gay. Me. It was all so obvious and yet so confusing. I was gay. I was attracted to men. I loved the way they always said that a gay guy was "attracted" to men. What was that supposed to mean anyway? I wanted other men to shove their dicks up my butt. I thought there might be a slight difference. I loved Tom. I loved him in every way possible. I loved him in ways I hadn't known were possible…with his legs in the air, hanging from the ceiling in a sling. Sorry, you know how my mind works. Anyway, I loved him. I ached for him. He was a strange part of me that was sometimes there and sometimes missing. I wanted him to always be there. My love for Tom was not confusing. It just was. It was like running into a giant rock. There was no mistaking it for something else.
And then there was the confusing part. What was gay? Why did it have a name? Why was it different? The love wasn't different. Well, I didn't think it was different, anyway. Why was I gay? What switch did someone flip at the last minute before I was born to send me tumbling out into the minority of the population? Why did I like to chew on weenies? I really did like to. Wasn't that odd that when I thought of something fun to do, it was chewing on some guy's schlong? Why did I have to try to understand my love, when other people got to just enjoy theirs? Most of all, why did I have to hide my love? It was the most joyous thing in my life and I had to be afraid that someone would find out about it. Loving another person was shameful? How could that be shameful? Who decided that? Who did I need to see to tell him just what I thought of that? Why wasn't I strong enough not to give into that? Why did part of me believe the things they said? How would I ever be happy, if part of me believed the things they said?
I didn't want to think any more. Besides the bus had stopped, and a really cute sailor had boarded. He sat down opposite me and smiled. I really wanted to chew on his schlong. Chewing a weenie in the seat of a Greyhound bus was probably forbidden in some rule book or other, but I had no doubt that it had been done before once or twice. But it was the afternoon and quite bright in the bus. Weenie chewing I surmised should be done in the dead of night, when the snoring would cover the slurping sounds. Still, he was a cute sailor and I really did want to get a chew on that…. Enough of that! That kind of talk could get a young man in serious trouble. The guy smiled at me again. He had no idea how much fun he would be having if it was the dead of night and people were snoring.
What would I do when I saw Tom again? How would we act? Of course there was under the tree at Christmas, so it hadn't been that long since I'd seen him. We had such a short time together then that I hadn't mentioned Father Fred or Dan…or Jimmy. Now there was Andy. I really loved Andy. That was even more confusing. How could I love two guys so deeply at the same time? Did that mean that I didn't love either one of them? No. I loved Tom completely. We would spend our lives together. I knew that somewhere deep in my soul. That wasn't a decision that I had made. That decision was made for me, and for Tom too. I had no doubts about that. But Andy was so sweet and so sincere and so kind and so very fucking hot in that soft comfortable way. But I knew he wasn't to be mine. I just knew it. I hoped he would find someone who deserved him, and I hoped he would find him soon. I also hoped that I might get one more night with his dick up my ass, but that might be asking a little too much. I was such a shit. I hoped I was a nice shit…a sincere shit. But there was no doubt that I was a shit.
My bus was pulling into the campus station. That would be my last chance for introspection for awhile. I was glad. I did not introspect well. It made me uneasy. I was always afraid that I would find out something new about me that I didn't like. Tom knew I was coming in. I hoped he would meet me. Or maybe I hoped he wouldn't. How could I see him after being apart and not hold him and kiss him and have a non-stop look into his eyes? How could we treat each other as if we were no more than friends? Boys meeting their girl friends would grab them and hug them and the girls would cry and people would look and say how sweet it was. But not us…not Tom and I. We would shake hands, maybe a little longer than most, and avoid eye contact because our love would be such a dead give-away, and be dying to touch and hold and hug and kiss and have to wait until we got to some place private to show what should have been all right to show in public. We couldn't even risk it in the car, although I knew I would wink at him and grab his weenie in the car. Even that might make me cry…to touch him…anywhere. Later on I would hold all of him for about seven or eight hours straight. I loved the guy, you know.
He was there. God, he was beautiful! Some of my senses always forgot just how beautiful he was. I didn't understand that. Part of me always remembered how beautiful he was, but part of me had to see him in the flesh to remember. That part of me was getting pretty hard right now. I had worn a long, loose sweatshirt with just such an occasion in mind. There was no way I was going to fight my first Tom erection. I was going to enjoy the hell out of it. I didn't expect to have it quite so soon. I didn't think I would give Tom full military honors just looking at him out the bus window. It made reaching up to get my suitcase a bit dangerous. But it felt oh, so good. The tingling in my balls felt oh so good. The thoughts in my mind felt oh so good. The twitching in my ass felt oh so good. Well, you've got the picture, my pelvis was a nervous wreck. But I put on my best "Hi, guy. How have you been?" smile as I stepped off the bus.
I shook Tom's hand. "Hi, guy. How have you been?"
"Hard, and getting' real tired of my hand." He was such a romantic. I laughed and looked around to see if anyone could have heard him all at the same time. He had done nothing to improve my pelvic condition. We did all of those things that I said we would do, and then he said, "Ace, if we don't get out of here right now, I am going to be arrested for indecent exposure, and so are you. Now get your ass into the car." Some guys get sweet nothings. I get, "Now get your ass into the car." It was enough, and I did just that.
By the time we got into the car, I thought my poor dick was going to fall off. I hurt so bad to touch and to be touched. Ok, ok, the sex was driving me, but so was the love. My body and my soul were completely open and waiting for his by the time he climbed in beside me.
"Oh, Ace, you look good enough to eat, and I'm gonna do just that when we get back to the room."
"I don't think I can keep my hands off you, Tommy." I reached out and touched his leg. He moved my hand to his dick. I squeezed. He groaned and sighed all at the same time.
"Just a second, Ace." Tom pulled down a little residential street on the way to the dorm and stopped the car. I can't tell you how fast we were in one another's arms. I also can't tell you how the feeling in my dick subsided as the feeling in my heart began to go haywire. I couldn't hold or be held tight enough. Absence may make the heart grow fonder, but being together just beats the holy shit out of absence. I didn't want to let him go, but I had to. Yes, I cried. I didn't cry much, but tears did roll down my cheeks. If I hadn't cried, I don't know what I would have done. The emotion was so overwhelming, I might have exploded, or fainted or something worse. I know some of you guys don't react that way, and I admit that I always have the old "How masculine can I be if I'm crying?" twinge when it happens. But I'm working on that. Crying works for me. For some reason when I cry, I can take that last step into whatever emotion I happen to be feeling. It sort of releases me from holding back. Curses be upon the first person who decided that boys and men shouldn't cry. I cried. Tom cried. And we gave ourselves completely to our love and to the joy of being able to touch again. And then we drove on.
"Whew, Ace! I forgot how good that could feel."
"Me too. I missed you, Tommy. When I hold you like that, I can't understand how I can ever let myself be away from you, ever. When I held you just now, all of the pain I didn't know I was feeling came rushing out as the joy I felt from holding you came rushing in."
"I felt that too."
"It hurt to hold you, Tommy. It hurt before it felt so good." Dick holding was out of the question. I took Tom's hand in mine and loved him through it. When he had to shift gears, we shifted them together. I would not let go of him for a long time.
I know this sounds crazy. I can't believe it myself, but we didn't have sex that first night. Oh, I had about a nine hour hard-on, but to have sex would have kind of ended the reunion. Sex would have in some way signified that we had been fully reunited and needed to get on with our lives. Neither one of us wanted that. We didn't say that to each other. We held and fondled through our clothes, and once I almost came. I would have been sorry for that. We fell asleep, fully clothed on my bed, our shirts open, our arms around each other, and if I remember correctly, our lips firmly planted together in a wonderful kiss. Several times during the night I woke up, and I think I did it on purpose just to enjoy the feeling of a warm Tommy next to me in bed. There's nothing like a warm Tommy on a cold night.
In the morning just as it was beginning to get light outside, Tom kissed me on the back of the neck. "Ace, it's time."
"What?" I said.
"I'm going to fuck your lights out now."
I smiled and said, "First you've got to turn them on, big boy."
He was up to the challenge. At first, he just breathed on the back of my neck softly. That always gave me chills. I liked those chills. While he was breathing into my neck, he pressed his body softly, but firmly into mine. I was able to feel his erection even through our clothes, and we both moved in and out slightly to give him the sexy feeling he was after. I sighed. He sighed. Then he slowly reached around and began to rub my penis through my jeans. That was always such a turn on for me, and he knew that. I had worked up such a load from the night before. I knew I would have to really concentrate, if this was to be longer than a 40 second session.
Next, still from behind, and still with his dick planted in my butt, he slowly unzipped my pants. Then he put his hand down under my underwear and took my dick gently in his grip. He squeezed and I thought that was it. I almost came then and there. I know I gasped as the feeling shot down through my balls and then through the rest of my body. My body went stiff, and I closed my eyes and thrust my head backward into his shoulder. He gently kissed me on the eye. I was all right then. I had gotten through the difficult part without coming. I knew I would be able to make love to him this morning and that I would be able to relax and enjoy every bit of it. I turned to face him and kissed him deeply. All of the sexual desire that had remained pent up last night would now flow freely between us. That part of our love had been expressed and was beautifully in place. It was now time to fuck with joy!
Undressing in bed was a pain in the ass, so we both got out of bed. It was cold in the room and the floor was cold, so slow sexual undressing was not going to happen. Tom started tearing off my clothes…I mean ripping them. "You son of a…." And I did the same. A couple of times we fell on the cold floor laughing and ripping and, yes, kissing and feeling, and finally made our way back under the covers, naked and shivering and laughing like two fourteen year olds. We quickly locked together for warmth and he looked into my eyes.
"Ace, don't ever leave me again, ever."
"I mean it, Ace. I don't ever want to feel like that again." I knew what he meant. It sounds crazy that I knew what he meant when I had fucked three guys and had really loved one of them, but I knew. This was home. This was Tom. He was part of who I was. The sex thing we would work out. I didn't quite understand that yet, but I understood this. I understood not ever wanting to be away from this man, this soul. And I understood thinking too much and fucking too little.
"Fuck me, Tommy." He laughed, and kissed me, and without warning stuck a well-licked finger right up my ass. I screamed.
"Funny, I thought it was yours."
"Last one to the bottom is a rotten egg." And away we went. Lovers are silly. You know that. We said that a lot when we were playing around and one of us wanted to 69. When that happened we both raced as fast as we could to get the other guys dick in his mouth and get to the base first. The last one there had to count to one hundred before he started sucking. Do you know how hard it is to have a hard dick in your mouth and to be being sucked and to have to count to 100 before you can move? It is excruciating. I lost, and as Tom's beautiful mouth moved up and down my dick making those wonderful slurping sounds, I just closed my eyes and enjoyed all of the sensations, making sure, of course, not to choke on the big hard sausage now resting on my tongue. "Mmmmmmm…."
"Yjo cnn;h bdhobbnn sufdgbing nnnw."
"Yjo cnn;h bdhobbnn sufdgbing nnnw."
"What?" I said half on the way to heaven.
He suddenly pulled his mouth off my dick and said loudly, "You can begin sucking now, shithead." And then he quickly went back to work. I laughed hysterically, which I'm sure pissed him off because I felt teeth and knew that, if I didn't start sucking, I would be immediately bitten. I sucked. Boy, did I suck. I made up for all of that lost sucking time. I sucked up. I sucked down. I sucked sideways. I licked. I playfully bit. I teased with my tongue. I took balls in my mouth together. I took balls in my mouth separately. I chewed ball sacks. I licked under balls. I even spread legs and licked assholes. And I enjoyed every lick, suck and chew as much as I have ever enjoyed anything in my life. I also enjoyed being the "lick, suck and chewee."
But then it was time for the main event. There would be a day when Tom would want me to fuck him again, but this would not be the day. Nor did I want this to be the day. I wanted to be fucked and I wanted to be fucked long and hard by my lover. I wanted to remember this fuck for a long, long time.
"You got it, Ace."
This one would start with a finger fuck. I loved it when Tom finger fucked me. It meant that the fuck would be longer and that I would be really worked up by the time he entered me. He knew exactly what I liked and where all of my sensitive spots were. When he finger fucked me, I had no responsibility. I just laid back, spread my legs and enjoyed the work of a master.
"You let me know what feels good, Ace."
He would know when it felt good. There would be no doubt about that. He lubed his fingers well, and started with just one. The insertion was always a little bit uncomfortable, but then I was able to relax and enjoy. He pulled me to the edge of the bed, spread my legs and knelt between them. He kissed my rosebud and tongued me just enough to get me ready. Then the ride began. Oh, the things that boy could do with a finger. He could read my every movement, my every moan and groan, and would take me to the top of the mountain, and then drop me off over and over again. First one finger, then two, then three. Then, just when I thought I could stand no more, he would stand up, pull me to him, and plunge his dick deep into my ass. God, that plunge was the most wonderful feeling in the world. It was like someone had created the world's greatest itch and built it and built it and built it and then all at once followed it with the world's greatest scratch. Oh, shit, when that dick came plunging down into my ass, I thought I would black out. The feeling was so intense, so wonderful. And then he would stop. He did not move. I was wide open. I was ready. I wanted more. I needed more. He would make me beg for more.
"For god's sake, Tommy, fuck me! Do it! Do it now!"
And then he would pull completely out and do it again, plunging all the way down. Over and over again he would pull all the way out and plunge all the way down. He would start slow and get faster, and when he was too fast to pull all the way out, he would allow himself to stop worrying about my pleasure and concentrate on his own. He would fuck me in earnest then, faster and faster, working himself deeper and deeper, as I thrust harder and harder. I would have taken his whole body inside me if I could.
Finally, there was nothing left but to thrust wildly screaming and moaning and flailing and…. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" Two bodies joined completely in unbelievable joy and feeling and…. Silence. Quick, heavy breathing. Slowly pulling out. Panting. Reaching for a hand. Holding. Wonderful closeness/sweetness.
"Back to sleep, Ace?"
"I the best?
"You're the best, Tommy."
"Yeah, Tommy. I'm home."
"God, I love you."
"I know, Ace. I know."
The Badpuppy.com model in these pictures is Nick and Tony
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