ABE – Part #2

50aeIt always takes two to tango.

If a guy I am having sex with shows any intention of getting his rocks off, too, I’ll do everything any total top can do to help him out. I am neither versatile nor do I flip-flop with my mates but I’ll gladly play along until he gets his rocks off, too. Abe had stopped short of even undoing his belt this time around. He was not doing much about advertising his need, if indeed; there was any at all. I hate being pushy. When it comes to M2M sex, I do not feel that my partner’s orgasm is really my sole responsibility. Bottom or top, a guy I am having sex with is a male, and he gets treated as such in every respect. If he wants to keep his pants on, and help me get my rocks off, I’ll respect his wish. A grown up guy ought to know what makes him tick. He does not have to explain or justify his actions to anyone.

We reached that awkward moment of buttoning up our shirts in the confines of the tiny but nicely bolted up cabin. Men are usually easy when it comes to sex. It is the talk afterwards, that some of us are not particularly prone to.

Well, count me in, if you will? An average trick gets a smile, a kiss, ‘thanks,’ a slap on the butt, and my open ear, if there is anything he wants to say. For my part, I want to move on, and am hopeful that he, too, shares the sentiment. A reasonably quick ONS rarely translates into any serious commitment.

This guy was a different story altogether.

“Wanna come over to my place?” I stated firmly rather than really asking.

Abe’s face lightened up like a Christmas tree. Talk about the joy in someone’s eyes.

He nodded and said, “I mean, … my name is Abe, Abraham, but they all call me just ‘Abe’”.

I gave his right ear a light workout and said, “Let’s get out of here.”

I did manage to suppress my natural instinct and crack up at the worst possible time. This Abe dude was really one of those ‘My Name Guys’ whom you come across ever so often. When you come to think about it, he could have said any other name just as well. I never go around checking the facts, unless this really matters to me.

Abe was a quite a bit younger than I. For his entire sexual prowess, he still lacked some of that experience that comes with time and age. Besides, I do not believe in putting other guys down, no matter what.

With a drink in his hand, in my living room, Abe looked relaxed, a small, barely perceptible smile lingering around his lips.

He did not really like Vienna. He was having problems in connecting with the right guys, if I knew, what he meant.

I positively shocked him by saying, “Yup, been there – done that!”

“For the regular, cute, down-to-earth, everyday guys, you are too good-looking, and that rubs their very shaky sense of self-esteem the wrong way. For the very glamorous few ‘I-am-too-sexy-for-my-shirt-guys’, you are far too under accessorized to be noticed. Besides, you may not want to really waste your time and money with them.”

Abe looked at me with the sense of utter amazement, – “So, how on earth, did you figure all that out?”

“Some call it experience. I’d like to think that it all comes from being a good observer.” I said.

I went to my kitchen to catch a couple of cans of the cold Czech brew. Someone was double-texting at this very ungodly hour, and my cell was all abuzz and flickering. I ignored it.

When I returned to my living room, Abe had a little surprise in store for me. He had taken off all of his clothes, and was checking out my DVDs. I suppressed any desire to chuckle, but a bit of a bemused look must have lingered on my face nonetheless.

He took his beer nodding, looked back at me with a barely perceptible smile, possibly even a very slight smirk, and said – “Look, I thought, you did not take me here for the beer alone. So, if you want me to be your bitch tonight, I am all yours.”

No doubt, Abe was right. I have never dispensed free beer to anyone. He did not come for the sole pleasure of an obviously lacking conversation either. We have all been there, after all. Yet, his choice of words, and the statement of the most obvious did not escape my attention.

Once we left the “Eagle” together, I was hoping that he would let me nail him couple of times that night, and, if all went well, I’d score another slow BJ under the hot shower before we went for the morning shots of espresso and the usual exchange of the cell phone numbers. That ‘bitch’ part showed that Abe must have had something spicier in mind.

Lacking any plan at that moment, I went for the obvious. I pushed him gently to the floor. He grabbed a nearby armchair, placed his chest on the seat, spread his legs, awaiting further instructions.

“Abe, you are in for a bit of a hard ride tonight. It would be cool, if you took it like the man, who said, he wanted to be my bitch tonight. If the going gets too rough for your taste, say ‘I am a pussy and I can’t take it!’, and sure, I’ll stop right there’”.

Offering to be a bitch to a guy for the night is one thing. Admitting to him that you are a pussy, and that you really cannot take it, is quite another.

Abe nodded in agreement and used his hands to spread his ass cheeks and show me a tight rosebud of his completely shaved hole.

I did not bother to warm up the lube. At times, expediency matters more than comfort. And if anything, Abe was in need of some serious and urgent action.

I rode in unceremoniously without wasting a moment of time. A self-confessed ‘bitch’ must have been expecting that much. There was a quick back push of his ass muscle, a sharp air-intake, until his head hit the seat of the armchair again. If anything, he had his mechanics down to an art. The quick, almost sudden, if well-lubed penetration reduced him to the state of utter passivity. At times, a hot, tight and well-lubed hole is all any top dude really wants. Most of the tops are used to doing all the work on our terms anyway. This comes with the territory.

Light moans started breaking their way into the silence hitherto interrupted only by the swooshing sound of my pistoning rod rhythmically assaulting Abe’s asshole. I have yet to meet a guy whose moaning is anything else but a series of protruded ‘A’s being in some sort of sync with my fuckstick doing what he likes doing best. Abe must have reached the center of his zone, and he was obviously enjoying the ride. The first, weak, slightly perceptible, if well-timed push-backs made themselves felt. A welcome kick-back, when it comes to topping a guy.

A smart bottom will rarely leave all the action to a big and powerful top whose build and maturity usually signal an almost destructive stamina. Letting a big and powerful top has his way with you, may well give you a fuck of a lifetime, and no ass to sit on for a week afterwards. All those dumb ass-jokes are not pure sci-fi.

Abe had really no means of controlling the works. His only chance of getting the best out of it was to make me shoot my load well in time before he turned into my own fuck doll who would not be able to walk back home straight.

I was hoping that Abe genuinely liked the ride. He was a first-class cocksucker, a looker, and a well-versed bottom guy. Getting what he wanted would usually mean that he would be coming for more on a regular basis. I could live with that, too.

I managed to last for only few more minutes after Abe broke out in full-sweat, his breathing became a bit irregular, if nor shallow. He stayed impressively hard throughout but strangely never touched his glistening rod. I have no problems touching other guy’s dick but he ought to give me a lead. If he does not want to go there, I see no reason for me to take that route either.

I uploaded into my Magnum in several deep, penetrating thrusts. Abe’s moans turned into real groans. But that last bit, he had to take. He knew that, too.

Once I pulled out my sheated dick, I surveyed the damage, too. His asshole was flaming red and mightily swollen. That bit of his anatomy needed an urgent break and a mild soak, I decided.

I scrapped the shower plan on the spot, and started running the full bath. Abe was slightly amazed, once he realized that my bathtub was actually a full-size Jacuzzi for a party of four.

“So, what do you actually use this little pool for?” He asked, more in awe than in a real quest for a sensible answer.

“Sometimes, I like to relax with the few very close friends, drink something, and just let the time fly. At other times, things happen here that you, I, and possibly every other gay guy would want to happen, if he had this bit of luxury at his disposal.” I did not want to go into details, but even more so, this was not the time for the usual innocence-play.

“Man, a guy with a dick like yours wants to put it to good work, too. Hey, I have no doubt about it.”

At this, he knelt before my semi-hard and took it into his mouth. This was different. Very different.

At the ‘Eagle’s’ that night he was a pro, sucking a cock. At the threshold of my bathroom, his mouth was making love to a cock which made him squirm and moan for an hour of incessant pounding. I knew that he was a great cocksucker. He was not trying to connect with me. He wanted to return some pleasure to the source of his own pleasure, too.

“Abe, there is a better place for this.” I said and grabbed him from under his knees and arms. He embraced me instinctively, and I carried him over to the hot tub. He went on gently licking the back of my neck. I had the bubbles at the very lowest setting, and an expensive musk scented foam cover the surface. No doubt, bitch for the night or not, Abe was enjoying this beyond his wildest expectations.

“Dude, a guy could get used to this, if he tried?” He said, hinting at his own interest at hand.

“Hell, yeah, worse things can happen to a dude looking for some trouble than this…” I smiled back.

“Have you ever tried the underwater sucking?” I asked.

“You mean, like sucking the dick underwater? Dude, you are such a pervert?”

I smiled. I have been called worse names. Much worse, as a matter of fact. Abe must have gotten the clue, though. He inhaled and plunged towards my thigh. A few bubbles escaped as he was trying to figure out the method. Yet, a genuine cocksucker has his instincts, and he trusts them implicitly. After a couple of failed attempts, some loud ‘shits’ on his part, he was putting on a remarkable underwater performance.

I had him kneel sideways, so that I could play with his swollen ring, give it a good soak, and remind him that there was a part of his anatomy which needed lots of attention, to keep him both fulfilled and happy.

I had no intention of shooting my load again that soon. This was really all about him trying a new technique and me enjoying an underwater suck. Certainly, not a daily treat.

After a while, I stopped his dives. The warm soak reduced the irritation of his hole, and I wanted to get that hole hot and bothered again.

“Abe, I want to fuck you again. Are you up to another round?” I asked.

A look of sheer disbelief was spreading on his handsome face. “Are you kinda joking?”

“Nope, dude, if you want more dick up your ass, here is some manmeat ready and willing.” I said.

This was obviously more than he had bargained for in the first place. Abe was then torn between his natural desire to take a dick on one side, and protect his ass on the other. I was not pushing for anything. This time around, this was purely his call.

“Look, I have not been fucked in a long while. So, I am not going to turn you down. If I need a break, I’ll let you know.” He said with a light smile trying to cover up the lightest note of sadness in his voice he had failed to hide.

Whatever was going wrong in his life, a stud like Abe; young, good-looking, beautifully trimmed, well-versed into bottoming, should have never suffered from a shortage of willing tops to work his holes for all he could take. Yet, none of that was any of my business and the approaching daybreak did not spell out the best conditions for any deep, self-revealing truths between the two guys, whose friendship had just started…

~ by silverrrcloud on October 30, 2009.

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