Clarke's Visit

Clarke's Visit I sat with dad and mom in the TV lounge, anxiously waiting, my mind buzzing through thoughts like a bee over a field of flowers - last Christmas, a few months ago, my b*****r Clarke in all of those thoughts. I thought of him after school, in his uniform, taking off his uniform, then switched to watching his face as he watched some TV, watching him chew -- I loved his strong jaws, loved everything about him. . . I got lost in the moment, and pictured him sitting beside me, and my hands wandered to the empty seat next to me where I imagined his leg to be, and I felt his arm on my shoulder. I was going insane! Clarke had left for college a couple months ago. I had called him every day for the first couple of weeks, emailed him countless times a day, texted even more, and still had tons of stories to share with him when he got back. I was impatiently shaking my knee, dad looked at me several times in annoyance, but he smiled back with a knowing expression when I looked up at him. Mom and dad had felt the change after Clarke had left too. The house was quieter, I spent less time at home, and even less time with them -- on some nights the two of them would prolong dinner just to have a conversation with me. Dad would knock on my door, speak for a little while but then leave soon after my one word responses . . . he missed Clarke a great deal too, that I was sure of. I often felt that dad lobed Clarke more than he loved me, but I was okay with that . . . I looked up at the clock, and it was near the time that we had expected his arrival. One minute passed, five minutes, ten minutes, and just as mom and I were about to simultaneously call him, we heard a honk on the drive. "Ah, he's here," dad said as calmly as he could, but even he could not hide his excitement. I was out the door and walked really fast -- okay I did run a little, shoving dad out of the way -- to Clarke's car and gave him the tightest, most heartfelt hug in the world. I held on a little longer, and so did he, trying to f***e our bodies to behave, but I figured no one would notice the stirring in our pants. In a moment I felt dad's hands rest on my back and pull me closer to Clarke as he joined in. "Okay, you guys are going to suffocate me!" Clarke managed to protest. I was smiling ear to ear, and so was Clarke. He was a little nervous as he looked at me, and dad was making small talk with him, mom gave him a hug that rivaled both mine and dads put together, she appraised his appearance, and was happy. He looked pretty much the same. A little manlier for some reason, but I could not have cared what he looked like. Clarke was back home!!!! That day was spent just chatting, catching up. Mom prepared a light lunch, dad asked Clarke a lot of questions, mom had to stop him several times and ask him to give Clarke a chance to eat something. His lips looked so appealing . . . I mostly listened, and watched, just drawing him in. God I loved him. Once again I could see him in the flesh, take in all of his amazing features. I was rock hard under the table, and thankfully there was no need to worry about anything. After lunch we helped cleared up the back porch table and chatted some more, and then Clarke said that he wanted to go for a drive with me. Dad suggested that he join us, saying that Clarke had driven all morning, but my hero said that he was okay, he wanted to spend some time with me and stuff, and dad eased off. The sun was still quite strong at about five pm, and Clarke drove to the local park. On our way there he asked about school, about me and stuff in general. The place was fairly quiet, we could hear k**s playing not too far off, a gentle breeze made the leaves rustle now and again, but on the whole, we could easily find a quiet spot. We chatted as we walked along a path, and not too long after came to a little corner formed by shrubbery and a tree. Knowing that there was no one around, he innocently walked into the thicket. I looked right, then left, suddenly he grabbed me in with him and pushed me up against the tree. I sucked in some air, and then his hot, moist lips were locked with mine . . . ah I missed this . . . At first it was hard and demanding, like gulping fresh cool water after a long run. Then he would kiss me gently, and then just look at me . . . his eyes caught the sunlight several times, I loved those eyes . . . he would say my name and hold me tightly to himself, kissing my neck, careful not to cause any marks, his crotch was grinding against mine, occasionally his belt would hurt me but I never complained . . . I missed kissing him too much. I felt his strong back, his firm arms, and his hard abs . . . I was so turned on, and he just didn't stop kissing me. "Clarke," I panted to him, but he held my face in place as he sucked and lapped at my lips, I was about to cream my pants from all his grinding . . . my strong big b*****rs hard throbbing weiner rubbing against me through my shorts, his hairy legs rubbing against mine, the hard abrasive tree trunk at my back, his demanding hands all over me, and his scent just filling my nostrils, intoxicating me . . . I shot five good loads in my pants, stifling my moans against his lips, and the stud-devil Clarke giggling as he kissed my neck, driving me over the edge, loving the feel of his little b*o ecstatically cumming in his arms. I felt terribly uncomfortable after that, my shorts were wet with thick sticky cum. Clarke was undoing my belt, still kissing me lightly. "What if some one sees!" I whispered, I asked him to stop, saying 'no' a few times, but he assured me that we were perfectly fine, I lost most of my inhibition, and he was crouching at my waist, his face level with my still hard weiner, coated with fresh warm cum. He took me right into his mouth, taking me in almost to the base. I was waiting to feel his nose poke against me as it always did, but it didn't . . . maybe it's because he hadn't in a long time . . . Clarke was sucking me clean, licking my balls and short pubes, his hands gripping my shaft and making sure that he got the last drop, literally sucking at my urethral opening like a straw, I began to soften a little, but only just. I lifted him onto his feet and kissed him hard, shifting my weight and switching positions with him, I kissed him and as I did he helped to get my shorts done. I was kissing his neck, undoing his jeans and his hands settled over mine. "It's getting late," he said, pulling me back up to my feet, kissing me . . . that made me feel a bit rejected. I am certain he noticed . . . he kissed me again, this time in the in one of the most loving ways imaginable.He gave my butt a good fondle and held me in his arms, looking down at me, "we have all night Greg," he smiled, "there," he kissed me, "is," kissed again, "so," again, "much," kiss, "I," kissed again, this time more deeply, and I could feel his hardness in his pants, "wanna do to you Gregory. . ." He kissed me some more, and finally, with a groan, f***ed himself to stop as the sun grew weaker. Only then did I realize how late it had gotten. We walked to his car, his arm on my shoulder, unquestioningly b*****rs. _________________________________________ The drive back home was torturous. I was rock hard all the way, and I had a feeling of intense burning in my chest . . . with Gregory beside me, my lips and mouth grew dry -- I could taste the strong flavor of his cum all over my tongue, and each time I heard him breathe my heart skipped a beat. I was so in love with him, though I still felt a deep feeling of betrayal. "We will have the entire night all to ourselves!" I heard him whisper in excitement as we pulled up the drive. I smiled heartily at his handsome face, looked deep into his eyes and mouthed an `I love you Greg,' which I meant with all my heart, mind, body, soul, atom and fiber of my being . . . Mom and dad stayed up with us late into the night, finally after many questions about my accommodation and comfort at school mom retired to bed, but dad sat with his boys in the den. Greg and I exchanged a look when he stepped away for a moment, and in that moment I could have lifted my b*****r up against the door and pounded the daylights out of him, but, dad was back, and this time with a case of beers. He first handed me one, looked at Gregory for a moment, and then handed him one, which he accepted uncomfortably. Dad took a seat in his chair and then looked in my direction. "So," he took a sip and swallowed, wearing his enquiring face, "you found a young lady for yourself yet son?" a knot developed in my stomach, I must have turned a shade of red, and then I shook my head in the negative. Dad sighed, and Gregory . . . well, at that moment I could not tell what my cute little b*****r was feeling. He could have been overjoyed that I was single -- which would have made me feel some-what happy -- or he could have felt nothing -- which would have made me feel sad that he didn't care. "Hmmm," dad smirked, "your arms do look a little firmer," and to that he winked at Gregory. It was a little strange, seeing the two of them be best of friends. I was Greg's best friend, and he was mine. I f***ed myself to bury my jealousy and uneasiness and chuckled along with the two of them. Obviously, they had grown closer. I was glad for that, but also extremely jealous. Greg was mine. And dad, well, he was a whole other ball game . . . Dad asked me loads of questions, about several concentrated topics -- sport on campus, women, classes and a wide array of random things, like the best food I could get my hands on, bars and my room-mates. Gregory was growing tired, and d***k. Dad had really eased up on him I noticed. He handed my little b*****r drink after drink which was a little scary, but also soothing in an odd kind of way. It meant that the two had found common ground, and that they had bonded. I was jealous again. I needed to use the toilet and stood up, "going to take a leak," I stated left. When I got back dad was sitting alone, sipping his beer and staring at nothing, but I could tell that his mind was not at ease. He glanced at me when I walked in, "you are being safe, right son?" he asked seriously, "using condoms I mean?" "Yes dad," I responded easily in Gregory's absence. "Good." He responded. I took a sip of my beer and stared into nothingness as well, my mind drifting into nothingness like him . . . "I missed you Clarke," dad said, his voice changing, falling to one of his softer, gentler, and most intimate of tones. "I missed you too dad," I responded. I did miss him, and at that moment, I found his strong chest very appealing, the large bulge in his shorts brought back so many memories of my younger years . . . "where is Greg?" I asked him, wheeling myself back into the present. "He said that he was heading to bed," dad said a little disappointed, "he's a little upset with me for interrupting your reunion." Dad was sad. I felt it right then too . . . "you should go up to him, he's been talking of spending time with you non-stop." "And you will be okay?" I asked dad, standing up, and my rock hard erection pointing right at him. Dad stared at me, knowing that my passions were not for him . . . "Of course," dad responded, standing up to, walking with me toward the stairs, "you spend the night with him like he wants," dad maneuvered me against the door, his hands on my neck and my steel-hard-pole, "tomorrow morning when your mother and b*****r leave," he lowered his head and nibbled at my lips, pressing his own rock hard member against me, "you haul your ass into my bed," he kissed me deeply, hard and demandingly, "this," he grabbed my ass and pressed me against him hard, suffocating me against the closed door, "belongs to me." I took a moment to gather myself after he left for bed, and then walked upstairs myself. Dad was always a demanding lover . . . I liked it a lot. Gregory was at his computer, checking emails I suppose, or just chatting a little with a friend, he looked at me and smiled when I walked in. He had signed out and logged off by the time I had walked across the room and landed on the bed with a thud, my face in my hands and my elbows resting on my knees. Gregory was on his knees before me, looking up at my face, I looked back at him hungrily, hard as fuck. In no time I felt him ease me fully on my back as he tackled my belt buckle, fumbling in his desperation. My pants flew across the room, and he pulled out my hard throbbing big b*o cock through the fly of my shorts. I was numb, but I could feel his lips and tongue work me, lapping up my semen, sweat and traces of urine. Fuck this k** drove me wild . . . and yet I still felt I had betrayed him grandly . . . Gregory was taking me in slowly, savoring my essence and making me pour out my love juice for him like a faucet. He took it all in like a champion, right down to the hilt, his nose resting in my musky pubes. I could feel his tongue licking at the underside base of my shaft, right between my balls, full of cum, waiting for him to suck right out of me. Gregory manipulated my raging cock for all it was worth, bringing me near the edge and then easing off, again and again, until I could take it no more and lost it. Like the pro he was, he knew when his big b*o was going to shoot and managed to rest my firing cock-head in his mouth, taking all of my seed into his mouth, tasting me, savoring me, moaning in pleasure, with me as I unloaded spoonfuls into his hot mouth. I heard him swallow my entire load in one great gulp, and felt his lips scour my hardness for any stray strands of my pearly white man cream. "Fuck Greg . . ." I said to him, lifting his face up to mine so that I could kiss him. His mouth tasted sweet, not with just the taste of my cum, but from his own flavor, his tongue soft, yet strong. I could feel soft stubble against his face, his smooth muscle rubbing against my chest, his slightly hairy legs rubbing close against mine as we got entangled in bed like so many times before . . . in that moment I knew that I was alive. All manner of d***kenness fled away as I realized I had the love of my life in my arms, and I took over, pulling off his shirt, pinning him to the bed as I licked and kissed his neck, his chest, his arms, feeling him in my hands, my k** b*****r, this hot little stud . . . he kissed back, biting my ears gently, I loved when he did that. . . I bit and nibbled at his hardened nipples, supple and red in the dim light from the moon outside. I had to have him, had to get deep inside him, show him how precious he was to me, how much I loved him . . . his pants slid of easily, and by instinct he moved his legs apart, making place for me in his most intimate of places. I licked my finger and found that his entrance was moist, smooth and slid in easily. He was tight . . . so tight . . . I got even harder, if that was possible . . . I reached in with my finger, gently finding my way to his fuck-me-button, and he responded appropriately. Gregory was whimpering and moaning in my arms as I got in two fingers, grazing his prostate in perpetual pleasure, at times like that I loved kissing him, it excited him, being in my complete control, and that in return made me happy, hard and horny for him. Three fingers in and he was near heaven. I had made him orgasm six times this way, his large cock soft and throbbing in pleasure, oozing pre-cum. I lapped it all up, and kissed him deeply, hard, pressing myself against him, chest to chest, the only space between our bodies being the air pockets between our hairs. My hard cock was nudging at his soft, flaccid cock, his heavy balls making contact with mine . . . he was making me go crazy . . . Gregory got hard, rock fucking hard as I rubbed against him a little more, kissing him here and there, and marking him where no one could see . . . I kissed his little Adam's apple, pinched at his nipples, and moved my dripping hardness closer to his hot waiting hole, my little b*****rs offering of love. . . I slid in with little trouble. He was pushing out big time, which made the feeling that much more intense, it had been such a long while since I had been inside him . . . I slid in only a little, spending some time at the depth of his prostate, teasing him, pleasuring him with the head of my hard cock, rubbing the two together, gently, softly, and making love to him, to his body and soul with my lips, my hands and my big b*o cock. Gregory orgasmed again with my manipulation on his prostate, another dry and yet fulfilling burst of sheer pleasure. As he was coming down from his orgasm, I gently pushed in all the way in, his smooth balls resting against me, tickled by my short pubic hair. I just stayed still a moment, feeling his insides, feeling his body pulse against my hardness, his heart against my chest. I looked down at him, and he opened his eyes. I lowered my head and kissed him, beginning to drive into him as deep as I could, which was all of me, and then pull out just an inch, then back in again, gaining speed and momentum, kissing him hard and fucking him deep, fast and desperately. A moan escaped his lips, and I placed a hand over his mouth, kissing his neck, his chest and holding one of his legs up as I rested against his chest and pounded him like I hadn't in a long time. Greg's cock was so hard, and dripping cum like crazy, now and again he neared orgasm, and would emit some of his sweet cum between us, making his cock slide more freely and pleasurably between us. I changed my depth and my speed often, my lips barely separating from his, holding him suspended in a state of perpetual orgasm, his prostate on fire . . . I could feel it each time I made him cum, his anal muscles would freeze, tighten and attempt to push me out of him, and that would make me drive in deeper, harder and with greater desperation, each and every time. We must have been at it for hours . . . we had changed positions over and over again, Gregory was moaning and whimpering against me non-stop, I was rock hard, having prolonged my orgasm over and over again, to his pleasure. I could hear a cock crow somewhere in the distance; we had been breeding all night and were well into the morning. Gregory was in such intense pleasure and he was so weak, worn out by my relentless breeding, I loved it and could not bring myself to stop . . . his silky canal felt so fine against my hard throbbing cock. . . I flipped him over one final time, feeling the weariness in my own eyes, onto his stomach again, resting myself completely on him, pressing my entire weight onto his smaller frame, my head next to his, licking at him, my hands playing and pinching his nipples, my legs holding his pinned to the bed and my other hand holding his head at a good kissing angle. I planned to breed him at last, my balls were aching for a release, his body as well as mine was covered in sweat, I'm certain the room was filled with the scent of our relentless fucking and love-making, I for one was content, and that he was not begging me not to stop I knew that he was in a good place, he had had his fill. . . I dove deep into Gregory, feeling the pressure of my thrusts inside him against the mattress, hearing him whimper made me go crazy with lust . . . fuck I loved this k** . . . my heavy aching balls were slamming against his, his tongue was wrestling with mine wearily, his body was weak and tired, and he was all mine, in my arms, just there for my pleasure. . . After a few minutes, I made him cum again, dry like the last few times, but he was still hard, not rock hard but hard non-the-less, and I was so turned on by his submission . . . I kissed him, deeply, grazing my moustache-stubble against his softer lips, pressing harder against him, long-dicking his sweet tender ass . . . holding on so tightly, my mind fighting the urge to fight off another orgasm and use him a little longer, but this time the pressure of his muscles was too much, it was as if his entire insides were fighting me, forcing me out of him, yet paving a smooth and slick crevice for me, and then, when he could take it no more, when he began to orgasm for the last time, when he had to bite into the pillow below him to mask his intense feeling of pleasure turned to soreness and pain, when he shut his eyes so tight I was certain he would black out, I shot several, hot, thick sticky ropes of cum deep inside him, right into his very bowels, breeding my little b*****r, marking him as my own, with my seed, completing the session of our coupling for the night . . . I felt my balls lighten, felt my entire body relax and give up, my brain telling my nerves and muscles `mission accomplished.' I let out a soft but guttural sigh of pleasure, pounding my little b*****r the hardest in those final thrusts, driving him across the bed, gripping him so tight I was sure to leave a few red marks on him. . . "Greg . . ." I whispered to him, kissing him gently on his neck, "I love you," but he was already asl**p . . . The last thought on my mind before I dozed off myself, still planted deep inside him, still thick and filled with bl**d, my semi-soft breeder releasing its last drops of cum, was dad, and that I'm sure, kept me hard all night. The next morning I was exhausted beyond dead. Gregory kissed me goodbye rather quietly and sadly as he left for school, I did not see mom as she left for work, but dad however, he pounced into Gregory's bed as soon as her car left the drive. "Son!" He growled into my ear. There was a side to him I think that only I have seen. Not even mom. Dad was very possessive with me, very protective, however he would let me do anything and support me, and yet also very firm. I could feel his hard cock press into my back as he humped his crotch against me, feeling me up under the covers, pinching my nipples, kissing the back of my neck, my back, feeling my arms . . . He turned me around, after pulling and kicking the covers away. I got the fresh smell of sex as the covers left, all my sweet love making with Gregory. . . There were things that Greg did not know . . . things from when he and I were not as close as we had grown, of course, now I could and would not want to imagine life without him. Greg was and is, my everything. But dad . . . He spent a few minutes just looking at me, from my face, my hands and arms, my chest, stomach, which he rubbed gently -- I always loved when he did that -- and then my legs, semi hard cock, my legs and then, finally he looked into my eyes, where he stared for a long time before he bent down closer and touched my lips with his. "I am sorry for being so f***eful last night," dad said, a little sad, "and for just coming into your bed Clarke" He was never f***eful with me, ever. I did not know how to respond so I just looked at him, silent. "I know how much you love Gregory . . . so I will leave if you want me to," He looked into my eyes, searching. I still said nothing. I could feel his hardness on me, throbbing, and the wetness of it . . . there was a small puddle of his pre cum on my abs. I was still silent. He shut his eyes for a moment, and made a move to leave. This was the man who gave me everything -- all that I asked for, and all that he wanted me to have. He gave me life, and all the love in the world. I felt a little ungrateful for a moment. I wanted him gone . . . but I remember how hurt he was the last time, when he found out that I had fallen in love with Greg. Dad was heartbroken. "I love Gregory, but you are my baby boy Clarke, my first borne, my son, with a capital 'S', my first." He said to me. His voice was thick and sad. I understood that it was not so much that he was as horny as fuck for me, or that he just wanted to have some hot kinky sex with me. Sex with dad was always great, his cock was bigger and heavier than me, he shot amazingly thick and copious loads, he could fuck like a sex machine for hours and not cum until I was satisfied. A few times in the past he would not cum at all, those were rare occasions where he wore me out and I fell asl**p, and other times I got down on my knees, and made love to the cock of my creation with my lips and mouth, urging him to shoot his load into me. I understood from a very early age that sex with dad was pure, untainted intimate love. When he was breeding me, or I him, he felt a connection, a renewed oneness with me - something that he has felt with no other. This he disclosed to me, said that it was not even with mom. And then, I go off, leaving him for Gregory . . . I blinked quickly and responded before the moment was gone and I had hurt him again, "I love you too dad," I kissed him quickly after that, full and deep, "I would like you to stay." His face brightened like I had not seen it in a long time -- except when he first saw me as I pulled in from campus. He held off for one entire day. Dad was my champion. I had always wanted to be like him when I was older . . . still do . . . I want to have his huge, hard throbbing heavy cock. And be able to give my sons everything as he has for me and Greg. Dad responded well to my kiss. He kissed back, running his hands through my short hair, and lifting my pelvis off the bed. I opened my legs, and he made to get between them, the head of his wet cock was nudging my balls, and then his hand directed it to my entrance. I sucked in a deep breath and held it there . . . Dad had not penetrated me in a long time . . . I could feel his huge cock head throbbing at my entrance, and he was already breathing heavily. He began to push and slowly he entered me, a little at first, but then the more that got in, the easier it was for the rest. Dad's cock had a baseball shape -- largest at the top, and narrowest at the bottom, but even his narrowest part was quiet wide. I could feel him get deep, feel the pressure building as he reached my depth, and then, his hands were on my waist, he looked into my eyes, I nodded and then felt him enter that point where only he could reach. It was beyond the right angle of my passage. He pushed in way beyond my prostate, beyond my bladder and the inner end of my dick, he was so deep that I was sure as in the past if I looked at my stomach, I could see him slide slowly into me just below my navel. Dad was HUGE. I was huffing and puffing, more in pleasure than pain, but it did hurt by a fraction. He was always gentle -- at first. When I got accustomed to his size I knew that he would pound away at me for all I was worth. My own cock was as hard as a rock, and each graze against my prostate sent a huge globule of pre-cum running straight out my cock. "Dad," I moved a little uncomfortably. He bent down lower, and began to kiss me, massaging my stomach right above his cock, and I could feel him, his hands on me. I could feel his cock massage me from the inside, feel his hand touch his cock from outside -- it was an electrifying experience. Dad kissed me, his tongue wrestling with mine, his hands massaging my stomach and chest, his legs pushing mine apart, and he was thrusting into me like he owned me. He began moving in a circular motion, and then my passages opened up a little more -- he was right inside me, I could feel his heavy daddy-cum filled balls resting against my ass. I was on fire for him. "Son," dad spoke to me between his kiss, "you set your old man on fire you know that?" Ah, yes, well, I knew that . . . it was mutual. I could not believe that I had managed to stay away from, him for such a long time. Dad moved out a few inches, and then back in, slowly and did this a few more times. When his thrusting grew easier, he stopped and buried himself deeply inside me, pushing himself hard against me as if he could get in deeper. I felt his hand running along my legs, holding them apart, stretching them as far as he could and then he began to fuck me. As before, I was dripping pre-cum like a faucet. The sensations of feeling him so deep, the length of his and intensity of his hard cock against my prostate, along my inner canals were so intense. After what seemed like a short time, dad lowered my legs and began to draw then closer together. Fuck did I love when he was about to do next . . . My legs were closed, and from past experiences, I crossed them at my ankles. Dad was still deep inside me, my balls were resting in his shirt pubic hair, slightly tickled, and his abdomen was resting on mine, my cock flattened between us both -- but that was not the magick. I could feel dads cock with my own, feel it moving in and out of me, feel it rub against my most intimate places. His shaft was stimulating my perineum and my balls, his mouth was having its own way with mine, his hands just floating around me, caressing me, and he, my dad was making love to me. his legs were on either side of mine, and he was slowly driving his daddy-cock inside of me, causing me to tense up and hold my breath with countless prostate orgasms, mild and gentle. He wouldn't want to make me cum just yet, he was far from done . . . When he was near his own orgasm, he pulled right out of me and stood on his knees, his gloriously massive man meat throbbing, red and dripping with his pre-sum and my anal lube, he looked down at me, smiled and winked as he indicated that he wanted me to get up. He turned me around, and held me up as he rested his knees between mine, holding my neck as he rested his chest against my back and began kissing me while re-entering me. This position gave my prostate such a good session. The angle ensured that there was always pressure from his side as he pushed into me, and my stomach, it looked like he was making me pregnant when he was fully planted inside me. Dad released my lips from hi, placed his hands on my waist and gripped me tight, I just shut my eyes in anticipation . . . he was driving into me like a wild a****l, fast and hard, deep and without relent. I was holding my breath, letting out long moans of pleasure, grunting, telling him to stop when the pleasure grew too intense, but he never stopped till he was near his orgasm, at which point he would pull out completely, and make me change positions. This time he picked me up and lifted me against a wall, my legs resting around him, his face in my chest and his lips playing with my hard nipples. Dad could have pounded me straight into the wall with his thrusts, I nearly shot my load several times but he would stop, and then start again. He did this to me all morning, on the bed, against the wall, on the desk, chair, with me standing up, riding him as he lay on the bed, holding on to the door, and then he grew tired of the bedroom. He took me into the shower, opened the cold water full on us both as he fucked away at my ass. I could feel his heavy balls hit against mine when ever in the appropriate position. They felt heavy with thick copious amounts of my dads cum . . . I so badly wanted to take him into my mouth and taste him, but knew that he would not let me just yet . . . It felt great, icy cold water on our hot sweaty bodies, again he had me against the wall, then we were standing up, facing each other, then him behind me, and each time he would do the same thing -- I could have tons of intense prostate orgasms, and just when I was about to shoot my load, he would stop, kiss me for a while, and change positions. He must have fucked me in every possible position, and in most rooms of the house -- his study, don in the garage, on the hood of his car, on the garage floor, and then, for the last few times we did it on the stairs, in the hallway and ended up in his bed. Dad really had his own way with me in his bed . . . he threw me on my hands and knees, held me down and entered me quickly, but fucked me for nearly twenty minutes straight, half the day was gone, it was one thirty, and Gregory would be home in an hour -- roughly. Dad for the last time pulled out of me, kissed me for a mighty long time, never allowing my cock to lose its hardness, but also never allowing me to shoot. He motioned for me to stand up, and place my right leg on a stool as he entered me, his hand once again on my abdomen, I could still feel all the sensations . . . Dad pounded me so good, he made me have several long prostate orgasms, and then, he jerked my cock for a few seconds, making me as hard as possible, and then he placed both hands on my waist and really drilled into me . . . I was shutting my eyes so tight they hurt, holding my breath and absorbing all of his thrusts, but at last, I could feel my cock harden that little bit more like it usually does before I cum, my balls retracted and he was going at it like a crazed machine, first it was a huge shot of crystal clear liquid, thick and sticky against my leg, then he drove into me, his hands still gripping me tightly, and I was shooting across the room. I sighed as my aching balls released their load, and with all this buildup, I came so much, so hard all over the place. Dad didn't stop . . . he gritted his teeth and nibbled at my ear as he shot his load so deep inside me, and then relaxed for a short moment, maybe fifteen seconds, he was still rock hard, and then, like usual, he began to fuck me harder than he had that day, and within five minutes he unloaded again into me. Now dad was done. He pulled me up to him, his cock still deep inside me, and gently thrust into me, kissing me, massaging me, telling me that he loved me . . . We got into his shower, and he began soaping me and I him, he was semi hard until he noticed that I was still rock hard for him. He looked at me and smiled, turning me around and fucked me for a few minutes. I was jacking off my cock and was about to cum when he stopped me. "Son," he looked at me, "I need you," he kissed me. I didn't need asking twice . . . Dad turned around and I was pushing my way inside him, he was as always as tight as Gregory ever was, and I could feel his inside burning. I reached that point in him, that right angle that he had managed to pass in me, but that was where I stopped -- I did not know how to get into him as he got into me. Anyway, I fucked dad hard and fast, jack-hammering away at him, horny as fuck for him, wanting to breed him so badly as he has done to me, his huge cock hitting my leg every now and again . . . I held his hands behind him as the water hit his face, he was enjoying it I knew, he was so hard, I could have made him shoot his load . . . but I had other plans for that load. . . I was overcome with worry that Clarke would be home at any moment, which only excited my naughty cock even more, and then I finally came, shooting my load into dad, as deep as I possibly could. He made to jerk himself off, but I held him back -- not that I was strong enough to ever overpower him, but that he understood what I wanted. I pulled out of him and got onto my knees, picking dad's monster cock up to my lips and sucked, tugged and swallowed at him as best as I could. I could take a bit of him into my throat, but not too much -- more than half. Dad's balls were receding and I could feel him harden by that small fraction I was so familiar with . . . I pulled most of his cock out of my throat and held his head into my mouth, jerking him off furiously with both hands, and to my reward he came, shooting a few large loads into my mouth. . . I swallowed what I could not savour, but the last few drops I kept in my mouth. "Kinky little bastard," dad smiled at me, picking me up to me feet and kissed me, tasting his cum and massaging it deeper into my mouth with his tongue. Fuck that was great . . . but at the very last moment, when it was all over, my heart suddenly grew heavy, and I thought of Gregory . . . Dad must have known what was on my mind. "We don't have to tell him anything," dad suggested, "or we could tell him together, or I could tell him . . ." I could not think of what to do for the moment. Dad passed me a towel as we stepped out of the shower. "I need to think of a good way to tell him everything dad," I said, very afraid of how Gregory was going to handle things, "not just about you and me, but also my fiancée . . . how would he feel about me getting married?" I had decided to get things straight with Greg as soon as possible. I had a whole week before I left home, and then I had to head back to college. He was so happy. I was happy. The entire f****y was happy. Gregory was fiddling with my tuner as we drove off, switching from one radio station to another. Normally I would be annoyed if someone else did that, but not for him. I love Gregory so much, I would do anything for him. "So where are we going?" Gregory asked me. I had made sure that everything I had packed would go unnoticed as he got into the car. "It's a surprise Greg," I smiled as I responded, eyes focused on the road as I took an off ramp out of town. Gregory relaxed, sitting closer to me, his hand resting on my thigh as I drove. Right then and there, I could have pulled the car over and fucked him on the highway. I didn't care who saw, but I did care who saw him. No one gets to see him react to the things I do to him but me. "Clarke!" Gregory exclaimed when he realized the route I was taking. He was excited I could tell. Several kilometers out of town there was a little reserve where dad had a decent sized cabin. It was rustic, no electricity, just a solar heater for hot water, and a fire place in two bedrooms and the lounge. "Wish we could just stay there forever," Gregory said a little sadly, "just you and me, holed up in that cabin all day and night." I got really hard quickly thinking about that. Making love, breeding all day and night, taking walks through the forest, and having awesome sex in the great outdoors . . . "I promise I'll make it count," I said to him. I just hoped that I wouldn't spoil things. I planned to tell him everything tonight, after dinner. I brought him here so that if he wanted to, he could lash out. He rarely does, in fact I could only clearly remember a handful of occasions where he was so pissed off, either with me, or dad, or mom, or whatever. Not pretty sights. Good thing I was able to calm him down. For the most part, Gregory was surprisingly strong. Dad and I had planned the evening to the last detail. We decided that it would be best to tell Gregory after dinner. It was just past six am at the moment, I parked outside the cabin. I unloaded the vehicle and moved our things into the cabin. As soon as I set things down I couldn't breathe. Gregory had pushed me against the kitchen counter and had his tongue down my throat. I could feel his arms around me, holding my head, touching my body as far as he could reach, then he was undoing my belt. "Whoa, Greg," I sighed as he took my semi hard cock into his mouth, swallowing me whole as I grew and filled his mouth and throat. I know what he wanted, and so I let him have it, even though the car was still idling outside, and the door was slightly ajar. The nearest cabin was a full day walk away, and he and I had this place all to our selves. There was a nice secluded spot on the lake, surrounded by some trees and a cliff right behind the cabin. The entire clearing around the cabin was surrounded by thick forestry, and the small dock on the lake was hidden also. We were so far away from civilization, it was both scary and exhilarating. Cell phone coverage was good, as long as the battery lasted. My dick was coated in thick saliva, rock hard like a steel pole, ready for a good fuck. I reached down and picked Greg up until he was level with me, eye to eye. I looked into them, beautiful, seeing how much he loved me, and hoping he knew how much I loved him too. I kissed his lips gently, softly, tenderly sucking at his lips as he demanded more from me, rubbing his crotch against mine. "Stop," I said abruptly, pulling away from him, "this isn't right," I said. He looked at me a little confused and I gave him a wicked grin as I bent down eagerly and buried my face in his pants. He was beautifully hard. I hastily undid his belt and pulled down his pants and boxers. Fuck. My little b*o had the most beautiful cock in the world. I took it right in, straight down till I could feel his pubes against my stubble, and only when I couldn't take his hair tickling my nose did I pull off. I had him groaning and panting as I worked his cock, and when he said my name I slipped my finger into his mouth, he got it nice and wet, fucking turning me on as he swallowed my fingers in pure lust. With my newly slicked up fingers I began to assault his ass, first playing with his opening, then I slowly and gently slipped a finger in. He was gloriously smooth and wet inside, still holding in my morning load inside him. I removed my finger and sucked on it briefly as he begged me to put it back inside. I used three fingers, he was tight, as always, and the mission of fitting three of my fingers inside himwas so exciting. I was still as hard as steel, and wanted to jerk off so bad bud decided that I wanted him to have full pleasure. Slowly but surely Greg, my little champ relaxed to take in all three of my digits. I stiid up, still buried deep inside him, pulling his crotch against mine, our cocks rubbing against each otyher between our bellies, and my hand up his beautiful ass. I rubbed his prostate from the inside, and his cock with mine from the outside, using my free hand to touch and play with his nipples as I kissed him. It was a deep and passionate kiss. I love him so much. I reached deep into his throat with my tongue, and deep into his ass with my fingers, never neglecting his prostate with my three fingers. He was moaning in ecstasy and I knew it, when his lips froze and his voice went a few notes higher . . . he froze for just a second, a mere second and then he was shooting all over me, thick f***eful ropes of hot cum all over my vovk and abs. Fuck Greg made me hot. I continued humping him, playing with his prostate as he held on to me for support. His arms were around me and he was breathing in my ear he was calling my name and then I lost it. I couldn't take it. I shot my load on him, coating his cock, mixing our cum together. He was powerless against me, weak in the knees and panting like he'd run a marathon. He bent down and swallowed my cock again, taking me all the way down his hot throat, coaxing all the cum right out of me with his sucking. When he was done I did the same to him, and maneuvered my head so that I could reach his ass with my mouth. I could taste it, my cum in his ass and feel his smooth wet ass against my lips and tongue. Fuck this k** did it for me. I made a mental note, not to have any form of sex with him for the rest of the day, after lunch. I was going to breed with him one last time before I told him everything. If he hated me after that I would have the memory, and maybe I would show him how much I loved him that he would take the news well. Farewell Clarke "So, does this mean that things have to change?" I asked Clarke, my b*****r. He was sitting behind me on our bed while I studied at the desk. I chose not to look at him, because I was certain that he would say that everything would now be different. How could they not be? He was going away to college, I would see him over Christmas . . . maybe, and that was about all the certainty that I could think of. In those few moments that he took to answer me, I had imagined him living his life away from home. He would find a girl friend, bring her home some day, call me `buddy' or `b*o' or perhaps use my full name, Gregory. Usually, it would be just `Greg', and he would be right beside me, or on me, chest to chest, between hard passionate kisses -- "No," I froze when I heard that word come from his lips, "nothing will change." He sounded so sure, but a bitter-sweet feeling ran through my body. He would miss me as much as I would miss him, he hated leaving home. I continued to stare at the screen, disbelieving what he had said. It was inevitable. The distance alone would change things - from spending every waking moment, and every unconscious one with me, to not seeing me at all, not touching me. He was a very horned up guy, like every other eighteen year old man, but our whole life, I was always his outlet. Sure, occasionally, okay, more than occasionally, there would be this girl or that, but they never meant anything deep to him -- or perhaps I am mistaken? Maybe I was being overly conceited to think that his entire world revolved around me, his sixteen year old b*****r. "Gregory . . ." there we go, he had already started using my full name . . . "my entire world revolves around you" I smiled then, at his words coinciding with my thoughts. I guess he used my name to express his seriousness then. Alright, so things weren't as bad as I thought they were. However, it felt as if my entire world was caving in. To me, it felt as if I had to depart with something huge in my life, like my senses. Could you imagine what it would be like, spending the last few days with your sense of smell, or taste, sight or hearing? How could I go on, or find a new equilibrium in life? But I had to, because, he was not mine, and he had a life, and if I had to suck it up and let him go, then I would do it. I loved him that much, that I would not hold him back. Clarke was standing behind me now, his hands on my shoulders, rubbing them with his strong fingers. The discussion of his departure was not new, he had spoken with me first before he made any decisions, and I `approved' all of them, in his words. I didn't think that I had the right to approve anything in his life. Clarke was my hero. I needed his approval, not the other way around. He bent down and kissed the top of my head, the only person I ever allowed to mess up my hair. He lingered there. I imagined his eyes were closed, as he rested his forehead on my head. A flash ran through my mind, of times when I would do or say something that he liked, and he would do that, mess up my hair. It annoyed me a few times in the beginning, but I learned that it was one of his many ways of showing me his intimacy, and love. "We should go down for dinner," he said, letting go of my shoulders, straightening up. "Alright, I just have one more paragraph to this chapter." He had walked to the door, and was about to open it when he turned around. "Greg?" he called to me softly. I turned to him, "Never forget how much I love you." He had an uncertain look on his face, as if I would somehow forget. I doubted even myself. I thought that I would. "I won't Clarke," I smiled back at him. But it was an empty smile. He must have noticed, he stood there a moment, biting his lip. "Promise?" he asked, looking intently at my face. "I promise Clarke, I will never forget." He just nodded, opened his mouth as if to say something but walked away and shut the door. I was being ripped apart on the inside. I felt hot tears rise up to my eyes, but f***ed them away. My face was getting hot, and my hands were trembling a little. I took a few deep breaths and f***ed myself to relax. There was a knock on our door. "Son?" It was dad, "Greg?" he called and peeked inside. I looked at my screen, hoping that I would not have to look at him. "Dinner is ready, you better come down," he said. Dad was awesome, of course, I knew no other man like him, but from what I heard from friends, my dad was considered the best. "Just a sec," I responded. He agreed and then left, shutting the door behind him. What the hell, I thought. There was no way that I was going to complete anything tonight. I headed downstairs. "You alright Greg?" mom asked as I entered through the kitchen. "Yeah?" I asked back. `Hmm,' was all she said. But the look she gave me said that she knew better. Maybe my eyes were a little red. "I'm just a little tired from all the reading," I half lied. All through dinner I noticed mom and dad pass looks from me to Clarke. Dad spoke to us, just about school, and talked a bit about a project he was working on at work, and mom about her flowers and vegetables in the back garden, the usual stuff. Clarke and I however, did not speak to each other. He looked up from his plate, and instinctively I passed him some water, his hand lingered on mine just a second longer than was necessary when the glassed passed between us, dad noticed, Clark smiled and said thanks and continued with his meal beside me. I loved sitting with him at dinner. When we were younger he would always cut up my stuff into smaller bits before getting to his own food, and he would always make me eat my veggies and stuff, teaching me about how important it was. Even now, or at least for as long as he would be around, he would continue to teach me everything he could. Dad and Clarke retired to the T.V lounge after dinner, chatting some more about plans for college, and stuff that he had to do and check out. I listened while I helped mom with the dishes. Dad and mom always spent time together after work, they would cook together and talk till we came down for dinner, and after, I would help mom. Clarke would usually help dad with the lawn and pool and stuff. We all had duties, and as mom and dad taught us, it would keep us close and help us bond. I sat opposite dad in the T.V lounge for a bit with Clarke and mom, who was doing some of her sewing next to dad. He and Clarke were watching a little bit of a soccer game. "I'm off to bed honey," mom said and kissed dad on the lips, "Night boys," "Night mom," Clarke and I replied together. After some time, Clarke said that he would be off too, so as to get an early start in the morning. Dad said good night and continued watching the game. I gazed at the T.V, but did not pay attention. "You doing alright Greg?" dad asked. Crap. I needed to pull myself together! "Yeah, just a little tired dad," I said to him, making myself believe my lies, "I'm just concerned with my exams in a few days." "Anything in particular on you mind son?" he asked, now watching me, and giving me his full attention. "Nothing I can't handle," I said, "I'll be in tip-top shape in no time!" I assured. I was dedicated to my studies. They all knew that. "Okay," dad said, standing up, "remember, if there is anything you need help with, do not hesitate to come to me," he looked at me with his serious face for a moment and I nodded in response. This would be his attempt to let me know that after Clarke left, he would be more than glad to fill in the gaps. He said that he was going to bed. It was a Friday night, so, I could stay up late. I switched off the T.V shortly after he left, turned out the lights and went to brush my teeth. Clarke was in bed when I got there. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. My PC was still on, I turned that off too. "You can continue studying you know," Clarke said, "I'm not that sl**py yet." "Neither am I." I smiled at him in the darkness, my eyes quickly adjusting to notice his bare chest, strong and hard . . . He looked a lot like me, or rather, I turned out a lot like him. I looked like a younger version of Clarke, we were both muscular, and our grey eyes were the same, our noses, and bushy eyebrows - except hair styles. Mine was a little longer and spiked a bit, and his was shorter, brushed in a very handsome side path. Even our hands looked the same, except his had a few scars from fooling around while growing up in different places than mine had. He smiled back at me -- and, I loved how his stubble was so much harder than mine. "Oh yeah?" he raised an eyebrow. I lay beside him, just a few inches away, my hands resting on my chest, looking up at the ceiling as well. We talked for a bit, about going to the mall to get a few things, and then, when things grew a little darker as the hall light went out -- signifying that dad was going to bed, Clarke pulled me closer to him, his hands on my arm, and his lips close to my ear. "My world revolves around you Greg," he said to me, in a deep whisper. He kissed my jaw, and then my neck. I lay still, unresponsive to his affection. He began to withdraw, I felt his hands loosen on my arm. I stared at the ceiling for a bit, wondering about what must be going through his mind. I was placing a distance between us, I knew that I had been for several days now . . . being less intimate with him, pretending that his leaving didn't mean anything . . . that I was going to be okay. Only at that moment, when he was withdrawing from me did I realize that by doing this I was hurting him, which was the last thing I had wanted to do. "Will you promise me something Clarke?" I asked him in the darkness, as he slowly turned onto his back again, keeping his hands away from me, completely removing his contact with me. "Anything Greg," his voice was still that deep whisper, but he sounded woeful. That hurt me more than anything, and I realized that he was hurting more than me. I was being selfish. "Promise you will never forget how much I love you?" I asked him, turning to him, placing my hand on his chest, tracing its way around his muscles, between his pectorals, moving to his hard abdomen, then back up. "Of course," he said, taking my hand in his, lifting them up to his lips, "that I will never forget, no matter what," he kissed them and his other hand crept beneath my back, taking a hold of my shoulder as he pulled me toward himself again, till I was almost on him. I looked into his eyes, and he looked into mine. He looked so handsome in the moonlight from our windows, which is not meant to sound conceited, as this compliments myself as well. I drew closer, to him, and then he changed positions, in one deft movement, he was now above me, our hands still clasped between us, and we were chest to chest, I could feel his hardness against me, and his hardon, throbbing but unmoving on my stomach. I placed my free hand at the back of his head and pulled his to myself, lightly kissing his lips with mine, he responded the same way, gently, intimately, rubbing my hand in his, holding the back of my head. I opened my mouth a little, tentatively licking his lips, and he did the same. We were on the same page. My hand traveled down his back, pulling him tighter against me at the waist, making his throbbing weiner dig into me through his shorts, and next he was grinding against me, his tongue exploring my mouth. He let out a little chuckle, and so did I . . . we were acting like a newly wed couple. "This is good," he said to me, and continued kissing me, both his hands on either side of my face, rubbing my jaws and ears, pressing his forehead against mine as he took in a breath, and dove his hot tongue back into my mouth. I had both my hands on his shoulders, his body had grown hot so quickly, and he was becoming moist, I could smell it radiating off of him . . . I loved it. He would have been happy doing this all night, I knew he would, but I wanted to give him something more. I moved my hands to the front of his shorts, and when he didn't object, only kissed me harder, I slipped them in, touching his hot, wet weiner. I couldn't help it, I lifted my wet finger to my lips and he chuckled again as I licked them, and then, he went back to kissing me. Sure, I had jerked him off before, and much more, but we were a little distant over the past few weeks, and he had never once or persuaded or influenced me to get intimate with him. He was always like that. I pushed him away for a second, and indicated that I wanted to get on top. I moved away from his lips and traveled down his chest, kissing and teasing his hard nipples, he was breathing so deeply, and his hard shaft in my hand only got wetter. I kissed and nibbled my way down to his hardness after a few minutes. After removing his shorts I placed my lips over his foreskin and sucked out all of his pre-cum, savoring his essence, and then pulled back the skin, and started taking him in, as much as I could, which was three quarter of the way down comfortably, I was so crazed for Clarke tonight though, I pushed myself further, taking him in deeper, and deeper, making my way to the base of his hardness. "Greg," he called to me concerned, placing his hands on either side of my head, gently pulling me off. I shook him away, my hands holding his down as I f***ed my b*****r's weiner into my throat. I loved his so much. Before I knew it, my nose was getting tickled by his wiry trimmed pubic hairs. I lingered there for a moment, realizing that I was extremely hard and aroused myself -- I felt as if I would cum myself without much stimulation. "Ah Greg," Clarke purred, "your such a stud!" I bobbed up and down a few times, and then came up for air. One deep breath and I was down again, taking him in back to the base. "I'm gonna-" I stopped and completely withdrew as he withheld his orgasm. I released his hands and licked his weiner head, tasting him, and then went back to it. It seemed like a short time to me, but it was not, I was blowing him for quiet some time, alternating between my new found talents of deep throating him to rapidly blowing him regularly. I was so into it that I did not hear him the second time, or maybe I chose to ignore him, but I felt him shoot in my mouth, hot thick ropes of b*****r-essence. He shot hard into my mouth and muffled his cries of pleasure into a pillow he pulled over his face, some of his seed escaped my lips and I chased them when his orgasm subsided and he stated massaging my head. Clark sat up and pulled me up, locking his lips with mine, kissing me so hard and passionately, holding me tight against him, his fingers pressed hard against my arms and jaws. His lips moved away from my lips and wandered to my neck -- he was careful not to leave marks -- then to me chest where the same teasing I gave his nipples was paid back. He was better than I at this I assumed, he pushed my onto my back, slid off my shorts and began licking my shaft, drinking in my essence as well, doing to me what I did him, first sucking out what ever pre-cum I had through the fore skin, then pulling it right back and taking me all the way into his throat. Clarke was bigger than I, and has been able to take me all the way down for years. I was so horny for him, I didn't want to cum and indicated that I wanted to stop, but he didn't catch on. "Something wrong Greg?" He asked after a moment. "Not at all," I said to him, sitting up, "I just wanted you to make me cum in another way . . ." I said to him. He smiled and kissed me again. "Don't worry," he said, grabbing a hold of his hard weiner, "your big b*o is ready to go again." He kissed me, holding my neck. "But first I want to taste you stud," he looked at me, "can I?" he asked, as if I would refuse. I nodded and let him get back to it. In no time, he had my toes curling, and I had to bite down into my fingers as I felt my orgasm build up. I shot maybe seven hard shots into his mouth, and I could hear him swallow, but the last bit he savored in his mouth for a bit, licking my shaft and testicles for a bit. I felt him move down, his hands grip my butt cheeks as he prepared to get me a bit moist. He licked and played for a bit, his tongue working his little b*****rs love-hole for a bit- "Clarke," I said to him desperately, "I need it now!" He stopped immediately and left the bed, walking over to our dresser and grabbing something for lube. I felt his finger enter me and rub some around, I needed him, didn't he understand? "I don't want to hurt you Greg," he said, his hand on my chest, "It's been a while for you . . ." "I'm ready," I assured him, and took a hold of his weiner, guiding it to my entrance, he stalled a moment to rub some more of his lube on his shaft and placed it at the entrance of my cleave, bent down to kiss me as he slowly and gently pushed in. I lifted my legs to give him more space, and soon he was right on top of me, chest to chest again, just the way I liked it. I placed my hands on his hips and pulled him closer, forcing in more than he intended, he looked at me concerned, but I smiled easily and kissed him. Soon he was thrusting gently, making love to me, touching me all over, kissing my lips and neck, my chest and nipples as he drove into me. I kissed back whenever I could -- but when he was on top, he was in charge, and he always rendered me powerless to his kisses like this, making me stifle moans of pleasure and chuckling silently and kissing me over and again when I started feeling it real good. My hands were above my head, tightly grasped into one of his, the other holding my jaw as he kissed me again and again, his shaft driving into me completely, grazing my prostate gently with every maneuver, his hard abs rubbing against mine, his nipples and chest never breaking contact with me, our legs pressed hard against each other, and his scent all over me . . . Clarke withdrew for a moment, I guess he would have cum if he continued. "Come on," he got onto his knees, pulling me up, turning me around, "let's make you cum." I got onto my hands and knees, he re-entered me, and pulled my up so that I was against him. He loved kissing me when we made love, and feeling my body rubbing against him was a sheer pleasure on its own. We were both on out knees in the middle of the bed, I was rock hard and dripping pre-cum in huge globules, and Clarke was running his hands all over my front, but never making contact with my pelvic area -- he knew what I liked, what I wanted . . . His hard hands manipulated my nipples as his tongue unceasingly licked and prodded my mouth, driving me ever closer to our goal. Each time he thrust into me, he grazed my prostate, hard. Each time he withdrew, he grazed my prostate hard. In this position he could move more freely, harder and faster. Soon I was huffing and panting in pleasure, but his lips never parted with mine, he nibbled my lower lip, or the upper when I need a moment to breathe deeply, and then he was back at it, making love to my mouth and ass, grabbing my hips and driving his hard weiner in and out of me just the way I wanted. I felt my own weiner get harder, and my testicles drew up closer to my body, and I was saying his name, into his mouth and in soft whispers that were growing louder ever so slightly. He clamped his lips down on mine for the finale, his hands moving firmly to my nipples, pulling me tightly to himself. Several more thrusts and then it began. First, just a spurt of my cum, I could feel it oozing up my urethra, and then it intensified a bit as my anal muscles tightened, making his weiner press against my prostate harder -- I was frozen in the moment, unable to move, but he kept on thrusting, and kissing away at abandon. It started at the base, from the depths of my cavity, like a radiating bomb, building in magnitude and strength, and then, I could feel it all at one, my b*****rs arms around me, his body hot and slippery against me, feel his throbbing, dripping, hard weiner thrust in and out of me, my prostate expanding, the cum rushing to the tip of my hard weiner, and then, like a sudden crashing wave, my orgasm hit me, making me shut my eyes tight in the darkness, Clarke's tongue still in my mouth, so overwhelming, his arms overpowering, holding me in place, several shots of my cum flew across the room, and still he thrust. "Hold on Greg," he said against my ear, he was stiffening, I could feel it already, my prostate was still on fire, and then several fires of hot cum was being deposited into me, and Clarke was still driving into me, panting, trying to keep quiet. I for one could not take it any more, and my muscles were pushing against him, and he was thrusting into me -- it was ecstatic. After a moment, Clarke thrust one final time and got a bit weak in the knees and dropped us both chest down into the bed. I could hear him breathing heavily into my ear, kissing me, hugging me, telling me that he loved me so much. "I am yours forever Gregory," he said. I turned a little, and told him that I loved him too, that my entire world revolved around him and he kissed me even more, deeply, hot and full of passion . . .