Saturday, March 31, 2012

Loss, Love, Lust and 3 Lucious Loads

Thursday was a pretty fulfilling day for me in more ways than one. I had the honor of accompanying my best fuck bud to a memorial service for his former lover, who came down with cancer about a year ago and I swear would be alive today if he had decent insurance. (Hear that, Justice Kennedy? Yeah right.)

I was there as Rob's shoulder and at his request. His ex was also black, and the small memorial was at his ex's family's house, and I was the only white person there. And they all knew I was sort of what passes for Rob's current bf. In other words, they all knew Rob is fucking me. Funny thing, though, it didn't make me feel self-conscious at all. Made me feel powerful, actually. Like I was the chosen one, which I guess I am for better or worse.

But I was mainly there for Rob's sake. He took the news pretty hard the week before, and when he first unloaded on me over the phone, he confessed that all he wanted to do was fuck my brains out, right then, that he was horny as hell and needed to fuck rough, raw and relentless (my favorite tagline).

So we agreed out of respect to wait till after the memorial service, and once that wrapped up Thursday around noon, it was back to Rob's place for his final "unloading." He had promised me (and himself more) that he wouldn't touch himself during the five days leading up to the service, and he swore he hadn't. So he had five days of cum built up for the service I was about to give him.

We went straight to his bedroom and threw off our clothes like we were going for a swim on a hot summer day. And even though we were treated to quite a spread at the memorial service, he told me in the car to his apartment that he was still starving — all he wanted to eat was my ass. So without even getting my lips wrapped around his cock like we usually begin, he had me on all fours — a position I would basically stay in for the next hour or so, and then a couple of hours later, I'd be his doggie again for the start of Round 2.

Robert is an expert ass licker and he outdid even himself for 10 or 15 minutes. He munched like there was no tomorrow. I could feel his nose in my cunt as his tongue lapped my perineum, the beginnings of that ridgeline between your crack and nutsac. Then he would dive that talented tongue straight into my hole, swirling it around and even rotating his head from side to side for even more stimulating movement on my tender flesh. The small stubble on his cheeks was having its usual effect on my ass cheeks, and at one point he gave me his trademark head butt where he shoves that sexy bald pate of his as hard as he can against my crack and twists it back and forth, further driving me wild to the point where I'm slamming my palm flat on the floor like I was crying uncle but instead moaning with pleasure like a white bitch.

When he had eaten his full — in other words, when my fuck hole was oozing his spit — he straightened up while still on his knees and slapped his cock on my ass, then slid the head up and down the crack. He doesn't usually emit any pre until I suck him forever, so if he had any precum it was being added to the spit for the only lube I was getting that day. (Round 2 would rely on the ejaculate of Round 1.)

It was showtime. I braced myself with my hands flat against the floor and raised my ass up high the way he loves it, then Robert softly whispered words I rarely if ever hear from him, and I had to close my eyes and stifle the lump in my throat as I grunted the universal male acknowledgment: "Unnnghh."

"You know I love you bro," Rob had said.

After my guttural response, and squelching any sign of emotion, I told him "Yeah, I know."
Then I added: "Now fuck me like you mean it. And you know how I mean it."

That helmeted crown was punching itself like a fist inside my cunt less than a second later and the fuck of a lifetime was under way. That first slam left dent marks in my skin from the brillo pad blacks call a bush and what I call heaven when pressed firmly against my tailbone. His cum-heavy balls slapped my sloppy perineum. My eyes bulged, my grunts turned to "Oh God" and my biceps started bursting as Rob's pent-up emotions poured from every muscle of his body through his cock and straight up my gut. I've never taken a beating like that. It was almost a sexual assault. Rape with love. And I was loving it.

But it was not to last, we are only human after all. Rob came within 10 minutes of this nonstop thrusting, perhaps a record for him. Surprisingly it wasn't a volcano of cum. At least I don't think so. It shot all inside as he held his pelvis flush against my buttocks, and his whole body spasmed as he shook the last ropes out. He stayed inside of me as he leaned over and kissed my sweaty back, then he proceeded to start going in and out all over again, only at a more measured, normal rhythm, one that I kept pace with, meeting his thrusts with my ass each and every time for maximum impact and full penetration, the kind where I feel his head practically banging my stomach. This time, he lasted for quite a while, never getting soft from beginning to end of Session 1, which lasted a little over an hour all together.

It was that second load that flooded my chute and wouldn't stop oozing down my leg. It was so fucking deep inside of me, it was going to take forever, and believe it or not I was scheduled to work that night. (I'm a sportswriter, and was on the sked to do "deskwork" that night.) So I called in sick, lying to my boss over the phone as Rob's DNA was trickling out of me. With the decks cleared, I knew I was getting another round later, but first, we both climbed into bed and had one of those talks that two guys rarely have. I won't go into the details, but Rob let me know how much it meant to have someone he could go to when faced with a great personal loss. (When he first told me about his former lover the week before, it was the first time I'd ever heard him cry.)

We dozed off and slept for almost two hours, then after cleaning up a little we went at it again, me on all fours again, but on the bed this time.

As I drove home that night, I knew it was a good call not to be at work. My pants were wet from leakage, my car seat thank God was still dry, but I could only imagine the situation I would've been in at work had I been seen walking around with cum oozing through my pants.

Ah, the things we do for love.

4 comments:

  1. P.S. the photo above is not Rob's cock, but it's the closest image I can find that shows how his love stick flares out about 2/3 of the way up, driving a bitch hole crazy during the old in-and-out.

    If the guy who actually belongs to that cock objects (I think he's on Dudesnude), I'll take it down. But Rob would kill me if any photo of him goes online.

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  2. Is the picture on top of the page your ass getting nailed?

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  3. Where to begin...

    Thanks for sharing such an intensely personal, bonding experience, and did so candidly, without compromising your respective, primal sexual needs, reflecting the depth and layers of intimacy beautifully expressed by that selfless masculine bottom himself.

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  4. Oh the things we do for love, indeed. Taken like a true champ.

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