Recently, I read somewhere that every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning. It was in reference to a poem but it could equally apply to Daniel who was poetry in fucking motion. He moved in next door to us last month. My eyes fairly popped out of my head at the way his muscles popped out of his t-shirt. And there was such a lovely wet, drooly look about his mouth. You know the kind of full lips you want wrapped firmly around your cock. And he had the shortest shorts I’ve ever seen on any human being. Male or female. Had you wondering how he kept all his credentials in check. In fact his dick was very much in evidence and it swayed to the left of him and it swayed to the right of him as he walked. And so did most people’s eyes.
He spent a lot of time parading up and down his yard too, washing his car or tuning up the engine. My own particular engine ticked over like a humming bird at the sight of him. Trouble is he never took off his t-shirt. Still there was plenty of strapping muscle in his legs to keep me happy. The way he pushed down on the pedals of his bicycle sent me straight home to jerk off and fantasize about being pressed tightly between his thighs. I had a mega wank just thinking of his gorgeous ass going up and down on the saddle and the aerodynamics between his powerful legs. I couldn’t wait to meet him but kept a low profile as I always come on too strong when I’m excited about someone.
Of course fate and fortunate circumstances have a way of creeping up on you when you least expect it. I was mowing the lawn and he came over and asked if he could borrow the lawn mower as soon as I’d finished. As easy as that. I thought of all the times I’d asked a guy for a light or a cigarette. I’d never thought of “Do you mind if I borrow your lawn mower?” as an opening gambit.
It was a pretty hot day and eventually my wet dreams were answered as he took off his t-shirt and used it as a face towel. The sweat fairly dribbled down his fabulous torso and I fairly drooled at the wondrous sight of it. It made a beeline for his ab-track, a line of fine hair leading to a treasure trail of golden pubes. I could see them over the top of the elastic of his shorts. I also saw something else which was pretty elasticized. He saw me looking where I shouldn’t have been and apologized.
“Sorry,” he said, “hard work always gives me a hard on.”
As he handed back the lawnmower he asked me where he could go for some ‘action.’
“Got to get the sting out of my system,” he said.
I gave him a few pointers and went indoors. He’d got me so fired up and horny for his honey that I needed to jerk off again. I didn’t think for one minute that his reference to action might include me. Afterwards I started to do some work on the computer but couldn’t concentrate. Too many thoughts of stings and honey still buzzing through my head. On an impulse I decided to google up some info on bees. This led me to something called apiculture. Naturally I associated everything with Daniel.
Here’s the first thing I found:
“Bees have a long proboscis, a complex tongue, that enables them to obtain nectar from flowers.”
Well just one look at him was enough to know that he fitted into that category. I’d seen him licking an ice cream on his way home one afternoon and really wanted to be at the end of his tongue as he got right inside that cone. He didn’t let a drop of the caramel flavour escape him. And of course I’d seen his other long proboscis which swung both ways. I wondered if he did too.
My Wikipedia reassured me on this subject: “Many bees are opportunistic foragers and will gather pollen and other aromatic compounds from a variety of plants. The pollen and nectar are usually combined together to form a provision mass which is often soupy but can be firm.”
All this seemed very promising and there was a footnote about their wings flapping approximately 230 times per second. In short I couldn’t wait for Daniel to pollinate me. Of course if I’d been older and a little more streetwise I would have realized that he wanted to get the sting out of his system with me and not some girl. I had to wait until my parents were away on holiday and I had the place to myself before the thought entered my unreceptive head. And once again it was Daniel who took the initiative. His head popped over our fence as I was taking my morning swim.
“Hi, there,” he said.
I nearly popped out of my swimming trunks at the sound of his voice.
“Mind if I join you?” He asked. Obviously he knew my parents were away.
So I wasn’t the only one gay-zing out of my bedroom window to see what was going on next door.
“Of course not. Use the little door at the back,” I told him.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he said and I suddenly realized the full erotic import of my words.
He jumped in beside me and we had a few competitive laps together.
Afterwards we stretched out in the sun for a bit then I took him inside for a shower.
We didn’t really need a shower but I wanted to see him naked and finally get my hands on him.
He didn’t strip off immediately but just put one thumb in his trunks and pulled them down so I could see his pubes and the shape of things to come. His dick was doubled up inside and got caught in the netting. It reminded me of a big juicy donut. I told him so.
“Come over here and dunk it then,” he said and let it all hang out. It was huge.
I knelt in front of him and lowered my face. I stuck out my tongue and licked up a drop of precum that had leaked out. I savoured the taste for a minute then I felt his hands on my head and slightly push towards his dick. I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. I’d spent so many nights – and days – dreaming of cumin in some other guy’s face after seeing Daniel’s dick in my mind’s eye that it took a while for the fact to sink in that this was the real thing. It took a while for Daniel’s dick to sink in too as my throat wasn’t really up to the job and I kept gagging. I realized I was being over ambitious and pulled back up towards the head. I rolled my tongue around the inside of his foreskin and pulled it down with my lips. He moaned. I knew I was on the right track.
I slowly worked my way down until I had his entire shaft in my mouth. He groaned again.
“You’re doing good baby,” he said, pulling my hair and putting his fingers in my ears.
I sucked hard. I could taste his secretions oozing into my mouth but he hadn’t come yet.
He was a hard nut to crack. This thought reminded me I hadn’t paid any attention to his balls. I let my tongue slither down to them. They were like small mangoes and just as sweet, the skin tightly stretched over them. I learned later that a guy’s scrotum tends to tighten up when he’s about to cum. Daniel must have thought I was some kind of cock teaser and tried to plunge his dick in my mouth and down my throat again. I pulled his swim trunks down and worked my fingers into his ass crack. Now he was moaning like some wounded coyote and his legs were shaking. I stopped and asked him if he was ok. I’m such an asshole sometimes. His response was to resume pulling my hair out by the roots and to grind his hips. I met his rhythm with my mouth and brought us both to a climax. I didn’t even have to touch my own dick. I came spontaneously with all the excitement.
After another shower I took him up to my bedroom. No other guy had ever been there before except my cousin who didn’t count although we did have sex once. But nothing spectacular. Certainly not as good as the sex I had with Danny boy. Later he slipped into my ass like a lady into a silk glove. Of course neither of us was technically a lady although I did discover that he had his feminine side and liked being fucked just as much as me. I was the first to offer my ass and the reference to silk reminds me of the old saying ‘ you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear’ and Daniel certainly pigged out in my slutty butt. I’m glad to say it took to his dick much quicker than my mouth had and with more abandon too. It was the first time I had felt possessed and it was great. He started off by giving me a massage. I had been feeling a bit pooped out and listless after our morning frolic but the combined effect of Dan’s husky, bedroom voice and his wandering hands all over my body soon had me horny as hell. I mean I’ve had many erotic massages in my time but never quite like the one he gave me. One hand round my ankle, one hand round the back of my neck and then both hands, everywhere and at once. It turned me into a human vibrator and a willing, wallowing receptacle for his humungous dick. A lot of foul fruity language came out of my mouth but you’ve probably heard it all before so I won’t bore you with it.
After it was all gloriously over we slept in each other’s arms which was very romantic. But as some guy said in a movie I saw recently “No real sex is possible without some degree of romance.” Or something like that. Then we had a bite to eat and did the whole strawberries and champagne thing. You know moved it from mouth to mouth and got turned on again. As you no doubt know, energy produces energy and sexual energy is even more potent so soon I rose to the occasion and did a bit of massage myself. I started with his golden globes.
I already thought his dick was great but I fairly gloated over his globes. They were full, ripe and fuzzy as a peach. I kneaded them like pizza dough and then massaged the moist pink bud of his cute little asshole with my tongue. It opened like a flower. Next I inserted my own thick stem and made him jump for joy. Actually he jumped in pain at first and reared like a bucking bronco. Obviously he was more used to being on top. But I persevered.
His muscles and his skin began to ripple uncontrollably like a lake after you’ve thrown a stone in it only this time it was my dick sinking into his ass. He bucked some more and nearly threw me off my stroke but I caught hold of the hair at the nape of his neck and gripped it like a horse’s mane. His butt bulged as I burrowed deeper and continued to ride him. Soon he was letting out little hisses and gasps which became gigantic groans as I burst the little pink rosebud of his asshole and turned it into a red-hot lava crater that undulated, seethed and erupted beneath me. As I shot my load he shivered and shuddered and gave a tremor of absolute pleasure. We came in perfect unison.
“God man that was great!” he said. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” I said politely like the perfect host although technically he was receiving me.
We met every day while my parents were away not giving a hoot what the neighbours might say. We engaged in a kind of tit-for-tat sexual game of who-could-fuck-who the hottest. He worked in an advertising agency so the next time he came to visit he was wearing a cute shirt and tie. His nips were spearing the shirt and his tie looked like it was strangling him so I undid one and ripped the other open to take its place wrapped round him. Rubbing myself against his bare chest and sucking his nips was almost enough to bring me off, especially as his donut of a dick swelled up like puff pastry. I knew it was enough to stop me from going hungry for a week.
“Lube me up good baby,” he said. “I want to fuck the ass off you.”
I loved it when he called me ‘baby’ even if he was only five or six years older than me.
If you don’t mind, at this point I’m going to slip into the present tense as with him there was no past or future only here and now. I find myself begging for the monster donut that unfurls in my mouth and which seconds later he will cram all the way inside me and have me spitting out crude, crappy words I’ve never pronounced to anyone before as he shatters my sphincter with a pumping violence that sets off a charge deep down in my being. A charge that detonates like a time bomb. I’m lying on my back, my legs further apart than a dancer doing the splits, so I get to tour his torso, caress his contours, squeeze his pecs, spur him on, while he reduces my butt to a molten milkshake, building up a mad momentum which makes my body feel like a roller coaster. He races me over every heaving hump and drives me crazy as he pummels me.
“Cream my guts, cream my guts,” I scream as he fills me with his love juice. Not my own words but something I’ve heard or read somewhere. Something that seems so appropriate for the occasion. I feel him explode inside me. I seem to be leaking. Hot tears are streaming down my face. Hot cum is steaming out of me. Tears of joy, not of pain. Tears of gratitude for being fucked so good.
“Sorry,” he says, “I got a bit carried away.”
We wallow in our wantonness like two contented pigs and then lick our torrid troughs clean before we collapse, sticky and satisfied, into the hot soggy hog-bog we’ve made of my bed. I need to remember to clean up before my mom gets back. And so it goes, and so it goes, as we try to outdo each other and say endearing things like “Oh, God, yeah, tongue my hole that’s right. Yeah baby that’s the way I like it. Puncture my pucker. Blow my joint. Make me smell like a sperm bank.”
It doesn’t matter who pronounces these words. Like the strawberries and champagne they move from mouth to mouth and the effect is always the same. It turns us both on and we whitewash the room with our cum. Talking of which, as you probably know, every time you climax it’s like a little death but as I said at the start of this story – but in a slightly different way – every little death has a vital new life waiting right there behind it and so far there has been no epitaph for us. Just poetry in continuous motion. Of course it’s early days yet. We’ve only known each other a little over a month but something tells me I’m going to be dunkin’ donuts for a long time to cum.
The Badpuppy.com model in these pictures is Daniel
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