Opus Hominus (for Stella and 4degrees)

It wasn't untill I pushed away from the library table, that I realised how badly my spine was hunched over- it hurt to straighten up. What the hell was I doing? I had less than three pages of my subgrad essay finished. My ass was as dead as a rock, from the hours I'd spent in this chair. To stretch this body out seemed like an impossibility. I'd become a wizened old fart- doddering among the stacks- years- decades- before my time, for crissake! Sex? What the hell was that? I thought I remembered- but my libido was as limp and listless as the sheets of uninspired exposition that I gathered up and shuffled into my battered old briefcase. I scooped up the laptop and left the books on the table. Let someone else put them away, I'd only come back tomorrow and pile them back up again.

My head was full of the sounds and rhythms of the fifteenth century. The men I was researching were magnificent creations of their own will, they roistered and brawled and wrote some of the filthiest literature that has ever been created to this day.
And they had style. Those heavy curled locks of hair might have carried fleas and worse vermin, but it looked good. The swaggering frock coats, the lace cuffs that could become tattered and filthy in a single busy afternoon... Wish we could wear that kind of thing now. For what? For another day in the dark stacks of the University library? I caught a glimpse of myself in the glass door leading out into the darkening street. That jerked me back to reality, all right.

I shook my head at my blue-jeaned, tee-shirted, sneakered reflection. Out into the street I went, and the wind blew my hair over my face for the millionth time. Who has time for a haircut, and who would care if I got one?

Actually, I mused as I stepped off the curb, my libido seemed to be stirring once more, even if only in a dry and literary way. The rakes of King Charles' court were seductive fellows. I could had taken any one of them on- although, my common sense reminded me I had better take a big box of Trojans along in that time machine, because in their day there was no such thing as Safe Sex. —In my life there's no sex at all, how much safer can it get—

So, there I was, John Markham, Librarian Of The Future, dragging my sorry ass back to my apartment on a gloomy evening.

The bus came to another squealing stop, its breaks sounding again like this might be the last time they worked. I stared out the window into the street as the shadows took over, and let the pounding beat coming from my headphones lull me into the 'busrider's trance'. Only another 5 stops, I thought to myself. The bus was getting full now, and I realized that it was becoming standing-room only, with the exception of the other half of my seat.

I often wondered why the seat next to me seemed to be the very last one filled; did I smell that bad? Not that I cared, I really didn't. I was actually pleased by the fact that most of the other faces I'd come to recognise as regular bus riders seemed to consider it a last resort, sitting next to me. I had concluded that it had to be the rainbow colored pride chain that hung around my neck-I guessed that a lot of ignorant people thought that either my gayness was contageous, or that they'd contract a communicable disease if they got too close. Seceretly, though, I did visualize fucking, or at least fucking with some of the other riders. It helped pass the time on the crowded bus.

Someone did slide into the seat next to me, bumping my thigh with his large briefcase. I turned away from the window to see who'd been so bold--he nodded awkwardly and I could read an "I'm sorry" on his thin lips as he shifted his big bag, maneuvering it on his lap while trying to keep it off mine. Maybe it was partially because people avoided sitting next to me, but something always made it hard for me to resist the urge to make one who did even more uncomfortable, by spreading out in my seat moreso and pressing my thigh against theirs. Ha, I am such a jerk!

The guy next to me looked like some kind of bookworm, and I guessed that he must've just left the library. I also guessed that he hadn't been spending his time there surfing porn on the internet, which was the only reason I could see for going to the library. His briefcase covered his entire lap, and I looked over at him, wondering if he had a hard on hidden under it. His shoulders were scruntched up as he sat stiffly, clutching his bag, and he kept his face foreward. I just couldn't help myself, and I casually spread my legs, invading his personal space and setting my thigh right against his. The warmth of his leg quickly permeated the denim of my jeans, and I smiled inwardly as he seemed to be too nervous, or something, to move over towards the aisle. Damn, I was such a perv...why did doing this turn me on the way it did?

(OOC; MUUUTHAFUUUUUCK I hate it when you spend the afternoon composing the post and- your computer freezes. Fuck, motherfuck!

I should have stayed at the library one more hour, I realised that when I stepped onto the bus. Standing room only. I couldn't help feeling glad of the mass of humanity after the isolation of the stacks, but I doubted that anyone would appreciate being bumped by my briefcase.

There was one seat open, though. And looking at the occupant in the window side, It was easy to see why women would rather stand than share his space. He looked... Not Nice. But Not Nice is tolerable for a five stop ride, so I worked my way towards the empty space beside him.

He had a presence much larger than his size, and he wasn't exactly small. His big square head was turned towards the window, his arms folded over his battered bike jacket. A rough thatch of Irish red hair tussled against the band of his headphones. The legs that sprawled over most of the bench were muscular and wrapped in faded denim. Nestled above the black leather jacket collar, he wore an oversized chain, each link colored to make a rainbow.

Damn, very nice.

It wasn't so easy getting into the seat, and when my student impedimenta hit him, he turned towards me- and caught me staring right into his face. His eyes were so vividly blue, against his weather-beaten skin, that I gaped like a fish, I'm sure, before I apologized and wrestled my briefcase onto my lap. Bike Jacket turned away again, the deedle-deedle-deedle of his headphones the only answer I was going to get from him. Naturally.

A guy like this wouldn't be interested in a skinny dweeb like me. But I wanted to sit down, dammit- never mind that I'd been sitting for eight hours already.The ache between my shoulderblades warned me that my back would seize up if I leaned back, so I sat, hunched forward. And unreasonably pissed off at the stranger next to me. For not being, I suppose, Sir Charles Sackville, or Lord John Wilmot... I let my mind wander back to the scandalous gossip of King Charles II's court. The blood seeping back into my numbed butt, the rumble of the cranky old bus coming up through the seat made me rather happy that I was cradling my opus on my lap. If you try to tell me you've never let the bus vibrate your testicles, you're a liar, that's all.

Mister Rough Trade spread out in his seat, that bastard. I just knew he was trying to intimidate me into the aisle. I might only be a student historian but fuck that. I stayed put and let his warm thigh press right up against mine. It only added to the fantasy I was building, anyway.

The sound from his headphones changed- a miniscule ka-boom, ka-boom, ka-boom was all I could hear, but it started his leg pumping subtly to the rhythm. right up against mine. That was nearly unbearable, spreading right up into my arse and I clamped down on my lungs that wanted to go into double-time. How rude of me to be fantasising like this right against the guy. It was so non-consensual. Christ, if only I could slide into that motion, slide up against his hip and feel that pump where I wanted it... If only we were lovers.

I risked a casual glance out the window that just so happened to be on his side of the seat, and mostly blocked by his head. And noticed those battered cheekbones lifting in unmistakable indication of a smile. The asshole KNEW. He was fucking with me, on purpose. Fine. It felt good.

The ghosts in my head egged me on.

My hand dropped below my briefcase, and slid onto that... hot... thigh. All motion stopped. I was about to acquire a broken nose, I knew it.

I was jerked away from the beat of the Marilyn Manson as soon as I felt his hand on my leg. What had been-and always was, my game, was being played back onto me. Never, even though I'd often wished it would happen, had someone reciprocated my bold invasion of their space. I turned my head away from the window and faced forward, and looked at the guy out of the corner of my eye before I totally turned and faced him.

His hand stayed put; not just resting on my thigh, but actually massaging it, squeezing it. My lips parted, as if I had something I was going to say. Words escaped me momentarily during this most surprising event. The heat of his palm radiated up my thigh to my groin, where I felt an instant buzz. The bookworm stared right back into my face as he continued to play with my leg, challenging me to react. God, this little fucker was brave, I thought. Brave and horny.

My hand went into my pocket and fiddled with the volume control on my discman, turning it down fully. My eyes stayed locked on him, and I leaned over close to his face and just asked him, straight-up, "Do you want some dick, boy?" My voice was gruff; too many cigarettes and probably hours since I'd emitted a sound. I had become so totally lost in this very personal moment that the fact that we were on a packed bus, with many possibly onlookers was forgotten. Right then, nothing existed except this strange guy's hand squeezing my leg, and the subtle heat I felt on my face every time he exhaled.

The bus came to another stop, and that was when I noticed the woman in the seat across the aisle watching our exchange. A look of combined disgust and curiousity was plain on her face. My eyes began to dart around at the other commuters, to see if anyone else was actually paying attention to this casual yet intense foreplay. There were a couple people watching us, and realizing that turned me on even more. In an lower voice I said, "'Cause if you do, you should get off with me in a couple more stops."

What kind of trouble had I started! I couldn't look away from the blazing blue of his eyes, as he leaned closer to me. His voice was a rough growl that was going to tell me what a worm I was. What he actually said was something right out of my fantasies- and much louder than comfort would dictate. I saw the heads in the seat in front of us jerk up, and Irish's eyes darted about watchfully, past my shoulder. I felt the hot blood creep over my face and neck and chest, and hoped my hand was answering him, because my voice was simply not there.

"'Cause if you do", he added, "You should get off with me in a couple more stops" and he'd lowered his rasp to a far more private level.
Our heads were close together, creating a private little bubble there, and I watched his face relax, turn boyish and a little bit- shy?

"Sure" I said unsteadily. It would have been so easy to kiss. But not in that part of town- not unless we wanted murder and mayhem, and I certainly didn't. After another eternity, he grinned and leaned back again. "Okay" he said and turned up his headphones. But my hand stayed on his leg, and the warm pressure of thigh to thigh increased.

My stop came and went. And two more, before he nudged me "This is were we get off" and I began to extricate myself and my briefcase and make my way towards the door. Behind me, I heard a woman's stifled shriek.

"Please excuse me, Ma'am, terribly sorry" said my companion's rough voice behind me, and when we stepped out onto the sidewalk he was shaking with silent laughter. "Bitch" he explained, and initiated a leisurely walking speed down the ratty sidewalk.

"Um..." I said, dodging someone's old computer monitor "I'm Jack, and um... If you're selling, I'm not buying... As he slowed to a stop and wheeled to face me, I added helplessly; "I wish I could, but I simply don't have the funds..."

Hoping that I was wrong.

"I'm Jack, and um... If you're selling, I'm not buying... I stopped in mid-step and looked back at the young scholar at my heels with what felt like a baffled look on my face. As soon as I was aware of my expression, I quickly changed it to a fuck you buddy, and said "Well hey Jack, I'm Billy...and I know I'm good-looking and all, but no, I wasn't trying to hustle you. If that's what you meant, anyway. I'm not a dope-slinger either."

I reached out as I spoke and grabbed his free hand and shook it roughly, tight in my grip, and added, "I just thought by the way you were groping me on the bus that you wanted some of this." My hand left his and I cupped my evident bulge. I watched his eyes go from my face to the front of my jeans, where I covered the tent that had started to rise with my own touch. "So, are you comin' then?"

I dug down in my front pocket and pulled out a supposedly crush-proof box of Newports, and flipped the thin cardboard top open with my thumb. I pulled out a cigarette with my teeth, and right away, 'Jack' was producing a lighter, and flicking it in front of me. I raised my eyebrows and grinned with the square in my teeth, and said, "Well, I take it that's a yes. Let's go. Watch your step here", I said as I carefully stepped around someone's eviction pile that was half on, half off the crumbling curb. If I were alone, I'd pause and browse through the pile of someone else's belongings and determine if there was something of use that was small enough to carry back to my sparse apartment. But I wouldn't do that with 'Jack' tagging along, hell, it was already obvious to him by the street we walked down that I dwelled on the poor side of town. I was pretty sure that it didn't matter though. By the look in his eyes, the way he seemed to swoon when I grabbed his hand earlier, I figured that I had found some adequate company for a little while, at least.

I tucked my lighter back in my pocket and followed Billy's solid shape around a pile of someone else's belongings. If I were alone, I'd stop to paw around- a studen't only chance of furnishing an apartment is via the dumpsters- but that lean ass atop the muscled legs pulled me forward. Seeing double, I was, between the rear view I had now, and that gorgeous bulge he'd demonstrated a moment ago. And the look in his face- the indescribable hurt, that little-boy look, before he clamped it down. That was pretty damn sexy, too.

He waved over his shoulder and turned in to a decrepit apartment building, threading the ammoniac stairway and halls. I came up behind him as he unlocked the door, pushing my rod against his denim'd ass. This was not like me at all...

I felt a strange flutter in my gut when he pushed his front into my back as I let us in the apartment. Well, at least he means business, I thought to myself. His hardness felt good on me, and a part of me that had lay dorment for what seemed like forever was awakened. As he followed me inside, I turned to face him and reached past him, pushing the door shut. I grabbed his crotch and grinned, getting right up in his face, and said, "I see, Jack. You've got a big bone poking out here, you think you're gonna fuck me with that, eh?" I had other ideas about how this would go down, and I wasn't going to just lay back and get fucked. My ego wouldn't let me submit like that...not until I was too turned on to give a shit about my ego, that is.

I pulled Jack inside my dark front room, and nodded towards the sofa. It was one of only two pieces of furniture in that room, the other being a broken recliner. Unless you counted the milk-crate end tables. I covered them both with a towel, making them almost look like furniture and less like something I'd taken from the back dock of the grocery store. I set my burning cigarette in the ashtray on one of the 'end tables', and gave Jack a nudge, causing him to step over and sit down hard on the creaky couch.

"You wanna fuck me, Jack? Well, you need to earn that privilege. And even if you do, it's no guarantee that I'll let you." I leaned down to him as he looked up at me, his gaze unwaivering from my face, and pushed his shoulder back against the cushion. I was right in his face, again, but this I time kissed him hard on the mouth. As soon as we made that contact, his mouth was open and his tongue sought out mine, probing through my lips and reaching far back to taste me. It felt good...too good probably. Kissing a man who was passionate about kissing turned me rock hard. This time was no different. I came down on the sofa next to Jack without breaking our mouth-to-mouth connection, and he groaned some muffled fuck words into my mouth. My breath came fast as I pulled back, looking at him and reading his expression as I reached back to his crotch and squeezed his swollen dick. He didn't hesitate to reach for mine as well. When he gripped my through my jeans, my hand went down with his, undoing my fly. Jack wasn't shy; he reached inside my pants and caught my cock in his fist, right away.

Did I want to fuck him? How would I know? The three brief encounters I've ever had were not what you'd call encyclopedic. But, since he'd mentioned it, it seemed like a very good idea. I had no idea of what he meant by "earning it" either, so I felt myself to be on completely comfortable grounds- ignorance as usual. A scholar doesn't mind that sensation.

His mouth tasted of his cigarette, and an alcoholic tang- I wished I'd thought to stop and pick up a sixpack on our way to his door- and his lips where soft, although chapped, and kissing is one thing I do know. His hands on my shoulders pushing me deep into the dusty cushions.
He thumped down next to me and cupped my hardon once more, and I reached for his- he unbuttoned his fly, and I, hardly believing my luck delved amongst a thick nest of russet curls to lift his prick up and out.

Oh, and then I remembered to unzip myself.

He wasn't shy, but his enthusiasm was mixed with some awkwardness, which made me feel even more in charge than I already felt. I bit the lobe of his ear as he exposed his fleshy meat. He pulled on his cock a few times, unsure of what the next step was it seemed. I gave his shoulder a push, steering him to get off the couch and on his knees. He understood the nudge, and as he got down on the floor between my legs, I lifted my ass up off the couch and slid my pants down to the tops of my thighs. Jack took his own inititive then, and reached up to start tugging them the rest of the way off. Hell, ok, I thought. My jeans were at my ankles, and I kicked each of my shoes off and lifted my feet out of the pant legs, enabling me to spread out wide in front of Jack.

What I saw made me salivate; lean legs covered with copper curls that got thicker and thicker and his rosy cock standing out of the nest, a broad head, deeply veined shaft taht I began to lick, exploring that raised map, and the heavy tigh balls that I cupped in my hand. Billy groaned a little, sliding himself further towards me, spreading his legs wider to let me get closer.

I took the head, silky-skinned and pulsing into my mouth, letting my tongue swirl around it, and dipped into his piss-slit to taste the faintly ammoniac flavor of the pre-cum that was beginning to seep forth. Damn, it had been a long time.

Billy grunted and clutched at my hair as I sank down over his shaft, wondering if I still knew the trick to open my throat... And if there were any lube, and, indeed, any condoms to be had, because as happy as the prospect of a face-fucking made me feel, I really wanted to get into his ass.

A groan escaped my throat even though I made an attempt to hold it back, but the heat of Jack's mouth wrapped around my meat was something comparable to sticking my dick into a tight glove lubed with hot maple syrup. Damn, it had been a long time! Too fucking long, and I worried that I'd not be able to curb my enthusiasm. I sure the hell didn't want to come off as too eager, but in reality, I already had.

I watched Jack slide up and down again on my cock, slobbering much saliva onto me that rolled down into my pubes. He looked hot; felt hotter. I knew he was a smart guy, and I was pretty certain that he could see though my front, that I was just a guy who'd not felt the warmth of another man in months. My hips rocked and I cupped Jack's head in my hand, pulling him closer to my crotch with every stroke.

My dick had gotten so hard, so fast...and although his mouth felt like a dream, I wanted badly to get up inside his ass. An ass that I imagined virginal, if not, damn close to it. Thinking about that burning muscled ring choking my cock made me thrust farther into his open throat, and I heard him gag a bit. I involuntarily whispered a 'sorry', and then went right back to thinking about shoving myself in his ass.

But then, I felt his hand below my balls, a finger sliding down my crack and finding my hole. He pushed it against me there, and I raised my leg up, resting it over his shoulder. Getting a finger in my ass while I got blown was probably going to be an instant mouthful for Jack; that shit made me come so fast usually. As he tried jamming the dry finger inside me I said "Hey, spit on it first dude...get it slick then finger fuck me."

His husked instructions brought me back to reality a little- I slid my fingers into my mouth alongside that shaft, and was inspired to gather up some of his precum to add to the slipperiness. This time, my finger sank into his body easily, Billy's hiss of- I hoped- pleasure- as I explored this new territory. I quickly realised that one finger wasn't enough, for strength nor length, and my first and index fingers became my tool of choice in the matter. And how amazingly good it felt, to be inside another man's body like that! His cock twitched in my mouth each time I twisted my fingers in there, feeling that tight ring at the entrance, the soft walls and the pad of tissue that makes up the trigger point- I knew these things from my reading, and was ecstatic to find out they really were real! Billy seemed to like my fingers thrusting into him- would he...

But then I felt his hands gripping at my shoulders, and I wondered what he wanted...

Two fingers spread my hole open, and I sucked in a breath to keep me from gasping. Oh, shit did it feel good! The sensation of being filled, penetrated-I might've tried to come off as a strict top, but Jack's fingers turning inside me made me squirm, and my cock pulsed in his mouth. I didn't want to come so quick, but fuck, I sure didn't want to push his face from my groin, either. But it was one or the other, I needed to decide pretty quick.

My hands were on his shoulders as I fought with myself about feeding him my cum prematurely, or mustering the ability to pull myself from his hot sucking mouth. Somehow, I managed to do the latter of the two. My hands went to Jack's face and I pushed him away. As I did, his eyes opened and he looked at me for the next command, it seemed. He started to take his fingers from my ass, but I stopped him.

"No, keep doing me...That feels good as fuck, Jack. If you touch my dick at all right now though, I'll come. I don't wanna come just yet."

I did NOT want to let that meat out of my mouth. On the other hand, my fingers were exploring in a heat that was making all the rest of me sweat. And pulling away gave me a chance to look at him, and that was worth doing. His lean stomach clenched until his muscles stood up, the delicate coppery hairs gleaming against the pale, freckled skin. His head tilted down to see me, and his blue eyes were heavy-lidded- and that mouth had lost every bit of it's hardness, and looked as if it wanted me to plunge right into it. But I was afraid that if anything beyond a breath of air touched my dick I'd lose it then and there. And besides, I liked where I was, so very much.
I pulled my fingers out just long enough to add a third, and felt him clench and then relax, and slide even further forward, pushing himself onto my hand. With a groan he pulled one leg up, abandoning himself to the sensation of being penetrated. His cock weeping precum, his balls drawing up tight. I leaned back in and sucked them both into my mouth, savoring the tang of sweat there.

Through slitted eyes, I watched him pull off of my cock. The sensation of the air against my wet skin was cold. A thread of saliva connected Jack's bottom lip and the head of my dick. Undeniably a gorgeous sight. I sighed audibly as his third finger inched inside my ass, and it nearly made me forget how badly I wanted to fuck him. My ass, made so horny from the invasion of his long fingers, was wanting more right away. More than his fingers could give me.

I reached down and hooked a finger under the middle of his glasses, and pulled them off. My headphones still hung around me neck, but the cd had ended and it was quiet in the room, excepting the sounds of two horny men breathing heavily.

"Let's take this in the other room." I made the suggestion not only because my bed was a bit more accomadating than the old sofa, but because I figured it would give me a minute or so to calm down some. I guess it hadn't clicked that it really had been awhile since I'd been with a guy, and Jack's attention to me was having a seriously strong effect. Part of me hated to move, to feel him pull his hand away just after he'd fit those fingers inside my fuckhole so nicely. But I wanted to get naked, too. And wanted Jack to strip himself of his studeous look to show me the man underneath.

He looked surprised when I asked him to relocate, but pleased. He nodded in agreement, and gingerly retreated from my ass. As I sat up from my slumped position, I grabbed his wrist and brought his hand to my mouth, and licked his still-warm fingers. He stood and pulled me to my feet, and I led the way into my den of iniquity,

Billy swung one leg over my head and stood up. I hauled my jeans back up so I could walk. I tucked my glasses into the pocket of my brief case before I followed this gorgeous, half-naked man into another room. Billy had spent a little more time here than elsewhere- there was a sturdy platform bed, covered in black. I was hypnotised once again by his arse- naked this time, under the black leather jacket, but Billy shrugged out of it and let it thud to the floor, and then pulled off his white tee. He turned to me and pulled me towards him by my waistband, unzipped me deftly and thrust my jeans down- leaving me to kick them off, and that wasn't easy as he was hauling my teeshirt over my head at the same time. and I came out of it with my hair over my face- which I couldn't push back because both of my hands were busy, pulling him in against me, one hand between us and one sliding back over his arse. Billy chuckled and more or less tucked my hair behind an ear for me, and glued himself to my mouth. His hands went onto my own arse- both of them- one gripping each cheek- something that drives me crazy with need, and we managed to get the few feet needed to fall onto the big bed together. I gripped both of our cocks oin one hand and there was, it seemed, quite a lot of noise coming from one or the other of us- or, possibly the both.

Christ, I didn't know what I wanted- I wanted him on top of me, but again I wanted to fuck him in the worst way.

After 'helping' Jack undress, well, basically ripping the clothes from his body, I found him pressed tight up against me. I noticed that no longer was he a smallish professer type, but a man with a strong grip on my ass, as tall as myself - no, taller, and who had suddenly seemed to take the upper hand. He shoved his tongue though my lips, and I sucked it hard as we backed into the bed. Together we fell upon it, and there I was, on my back and almost under him, as he lay on his side, choking both our cocks together in his fist. I was harder than I had been in the front room. Again our mouths connected and I fed him my tongue, sliding it over his teeth and tasting him deep. A muffled groan came from one of us, and we broke the hot kiss long enough for me to say, "Well, fuck...Jack, I want you now. Either way. Let me get your ass ready for my dick, or give me yours. It's your call."

My head was swimming. After who knows how long- and those times mere fumbling, grabbing ending in, perhaps, an awkward blowjob- I was presented with a playground of a man. His compact strong body made my hands ache to touch that pale skin and run my fingers through the coppery fur of his chest.

In the back of my mind the knowledge that I'd never actually done this tried to make itself heard but I wasn't paying attention to that anymore. My body knew exactly what it wanted, and I knew- positively and without any doubts- what Billy wanted too. And dammit, am I not a scholar? I've read enough smut to have a good grasp of the essentials. It's all out there for the Inquiring Mind.

"I'm going to fuck you, Billy." I admit I was unprepared for the growl that my voice had suddenly become. "Give me the lube." He had to have that stuff, right? I certainly didn't.

We lay diagonally across the middle of my bed, and when Jack pushed himself up on his arms, and stated his intentions I was already moving to grab that tube of slick stuff. I turned my body away from him and reached over to the table on the opposite side of the bed, yanking open a drawer and rifling though it until I located a well-used tube that held fuzzy memories of my last encounter. Popping the lid with my thumb, I squeezed some onto my fingers and reached down to that hot place under my nuts. The coldness only lasted a second; I shoved a finger inside my ass, slicking me inside and out. My hips were up off the mattress, and Jack watched intently as I fingerfucked my own ass. And I watched, as he pulled on his leaking dick.

"You have a rubber, right?" I couldn't be sure if I did. Normally, I would always have one in my wallet, or a stray in that same drawer where I kept the lube...but I almost vaguely recalled pulling the last one from my wallet as an unknown man bent over for me awkwardly in a booth, at an adult bookstore months ago.

He had no condom... It took a minute, maybe longer, for that information to make itself comprehensible. All I could focus on was the sight- oh Christ- of his strong blunt fingers sliding in and out of his own arsehole. All I could care about was getting my cock in there- possibly alongside those glistening knuckles, that would be just fine.

No. Condoms. I forced myself to concentrate, despite his inviting leer over one brawny shoulder. Despite my cock which was fucking my own hand all unknowingly- I pulled myself away from myself and brought that hand down on Billy's arse. Hard. My head blew up at his shocked whimper. I grabbed his frigging-hand, stilling it at its moment of deepest penetration.

"Don't. Move." Someone said in my voice- that new growling voice. The fingers spasmed and I slapped him again. "Don't fucking move, Billy, not one finger. Do you hear me?" and got a "huh" in response When I withdrew my hand his remained frozen, although his chest heaved with harsh breath.

"Wait." who-ever-it-was told him, and I scampered into the front room to rifle through my case, hunched over with the weight of my hardon, swearing under my breath until I found three cartoon-colored bar freebies. And stopped at the bedroom door to gorge my senses with the impossible sight of a man waiting for me- sprawled open-legged, one hand deep inside himself and the other clenching a fistful of bedding, his eyes turned towards the door- waiting for my command.

I could have fainted for the sheer joy of it.

The person that Jack seemed to transform into - before my very eyes, I liked. Lots. When his open palm made contact with my ass, as he asserted himself with his tone of voice, the sting lingered and radiated throughout my groin. My asshole clentched my own finger tightly as he held it still, deep up my ass and ordered me to wait. This wasn't my usual, whatever that was anyway, MO. I guessed it wasn't Jack's either. He returned to the doorway, rolling a red condom onto his purplish dick en route. Against my earlier instructions, I pulled my fingers out of my horny ass, and reached for the lube again.

As I squeezed more onto my hand, intending to slide it over his big bone, he came down on me and locked me in another hot kiss. Between my legs on his knees he was, and I felt his wide cockhead bump against my ass. Grabbing it with my wet hand, I slicked him up, and then guided his meat to its mark.

His breath came fast and shallow as he began thrusting against me, the over-lubed condom slipping through my asscrack and over my hole, making him miss. I bit his lip in a heated flash of lust, and said, "Jack, fuck me NOW. And fuck me good, like you mean it. Oh, I want...this."

He returned the bite I'd given him, right on my jawbone as he tried to stifle his eagerness enough to get his dick in me. God, I hope he lasted...

Okay, Jack. Get a hold of yourself- in a manner of speaking.

This new person inside of me knew exactly what he wanted to do, but he was trying to do it with my somewhat-less-than-experienced body. Billy's kiss was making my head swim. I disentangled myself- looking down at this gorgeous panting man- and got my hand between us. I slid the tip of my finger into his asshole- just the least little bit- and used that as a beacon to guide my cock towards, nudging the tip against the tight ring of flesh- I was really going to do this- and pressing in. I stifled my own whimper by pulling a mouthful of his neck into my mouth, and I could feel his humming voice vibrating in my lips. Christ that feeling, as the head of my cock pushed past that tight ring into the heat inside! I could feel the sweat starting across my forehead, my shoulders. Billy shifted in my arms- pulled his legs up and around mine and pulled at me, wanting me in quick, but I wanted to relish this first time and I kept that slow slide... And when that ring hit the base of my cock, and my hips hit his thighs and my nuts were pressed tight against him- I stopped, just to hear him beg.

I could not hold back a loud growl as his shank sunk all the way into me, until he was flush against my ass. The last time I'd been fucked was forever ago, pretty much. With the exception of a buttplug I'd utilize when I'd jack, my ass wasn't used to being so totally full. Full of a long rigid dick, that when it was buried completely, stopped and held still in my burning guts. My hands gripped both of Jack's muscled asscheeks - hard, and tried to shake him, to make him move.

"Don't play with me, fuck me...pull out and shove that dick back in me, you fucker...I need it. Oh, fuck...muthafucker...Gimmie-that-dick." I heard my voice as I spit out those dirty fuckwords, the kind that inevitably came when I was so turned on. I didn't give a shit how it sounded to Jack, either. And even if I had, I couldn't have stopped. I continued to mutter out a string of obscinities as Jack finally did take mercy and draw back out, the long slide of his dick rubbing me there drove me fucking crazy.

Billy muttered and sobbed a long sweet string of obscenity as I pulled out- my cock so sensitive behind that thin layer of latex, I could feel his prostate swelling , felt the head of my cock press against it- and I meant to stop there but that ring felt so fucking good all the way, that I stopped only when my cockhead was feling the pressure; Looking down I couls see his tight ring swelling as my dick pushed it open. It made me shake, and Billy- still chanting cocksucker-motherfucker was doing it without much breath in his lungs.
I slid in again, to the subtle bulge of his prostate and let my cockhead pay some attention to that for a while. That feeling of a pair of strong legs twitching and jerking against your back- who could ever get used to that? And his fingers digging into my ass; I knew there would be bruises tomorrow.

"God- damn- you-" was what- I think- pushed me over the edge, and I let myself start moving in my own rhythm, keeping it slow still, but a full in and out -oh god- thrust. Oh, god. Oh fuck.