An Ozarks Thanksgiving Miracle [MM] [LONG]

I met Brett my first year of college when we were both placed on a recruiting team that would travel each weekend to different locations throughout the midwest and mid-Atlantic regions. My first impression of him was that he was certainly easy on the eyes and had a pleasing personality to match. Since our recruiting team was musical, I discovered that he had a great tenor voice that paired nicely with my own baritone. During our rehearsals, I gleaned much information about him — information that I hoped would be useful in the future that school year. He was as straight as an arrow, and I was a closeted gay who passed for straight.

Brett had played soccer or “futbol” as he learned to refer to it during his elementary and high school years growing up in Chile where his parents worked as Americans overseas. He had an athlete’s build above the waist, but his thighs were as thick as you might expect a footballer’s to be due to all that running about the soccer field. At least, that was what I told myself whenever I would see him filling out a pair of sweats or wearing less than that. He admitted that he didn’t work out, yet his body seemed to naturally maintain the tone of a man who could blame it all on great genes. At 24, he had that clean-cut look of a straight guy that you’d love to see naked but didn’t know how to make that possible. I was 19 at the time and very naive when it came to love; yet, I was an expert when it came to lust. I had been lusting after manflesh since a kid and had honed my skills on seeking out the guys to whom I was attracted. Sadly, I had never actually expressed my feelings for one, nor had I complimented one’s looks, and I had certainly not had any experience with another guy’s dick before. I was “young, dumb, and full of cum,” as we say.

One evening after rehearsals, I walked with Brett back to his apartment and brought up the topic of moving into his very small one-room studio apartment with him and splitting the rent 50/50. We discussed where my twin bed would go (perpendicular to his bed). We both commented on how small the apartment was, but we laughed that off knowing that we could make it work. I promptly wrote a check for my part of the rent and moved in the next weekend.

Through the next couple of weeks, I was absolutely in heaven. Life in the apartment was just like I had hoped it would be, and it was very different than dorm life with just a few similarities. One similarity was that we couldn’t get away from each other’s phone calls, so I would have to be privy to his conversations in with his parents who were still overseas and also to his conversations with his girlfriend Stacey. I would make my phone calls from the recruiting office where there was more privacy. Another similarity was that both he and I would strip down to our underwear while in the apartment for the evening or during the weekend. I wore boxers and he wore white briefs. My suspicions about his thighs were confirmed: they were thick and strong. Also, I was able to appraise the rest of his visible body: smooth and strong chest, slight treasure trail, and developed abs. He was SO easy on the eyes! Since there was just one sink in the bathroom, we swapped morning time in the shower and time using the sink. We were typically a combination of naked or toweled before we headed off to class, so we each saw each other naked every morning although never in any state of arousal.

He had a habit of not using the table at all for his work. Rather, he would spend his evenings reclined on his bed, books spread open around him, and a legal pad handy to jot notes. When I would return to the apartment at night after finishing my shift at work, it was commonplace to find him stripped to his underwear and studying his lessons. Grades were paramount to both of us, so we were diligent with our studies. Yet, after my work shift, I was ready for bed, so I would strip down and climb into bed. His lamp was bright, so I would always cover my head with my sheet and blanket then fall asleep.

One evening, and I don’t know exactly what make me do this, instead of falling asleep, I lay awake looking through the small vent in the bedspread that I gave myself as a way to breathe while my head was covered up. Due to the perpendicular nature of my bed’s placement with Brett’s, I would either be facing a wall when lying on my right side, or I would be facing Brett’s bed when lying on my left side. This night, I was lying on my left side and could see Brett studying on his bed. What I noticed caught my breath and made my heart start racing. In his left hand he was holding the book which he was reviewing. He had his right hand on his crotch (not uncommon) and his dick was an enormous bulge in his underwear (very uncommon). I had never seen Brett with a hard-on before, so this amazing development went beyond any hope or fascination I had dreamed before moving in with him. I wasn’t even breathing as I watched, enthralled, as he lazily drummed his fingers on his cock, gave it a squeeze, then slid his hand down inside his briefs to cup his balls and roll them in his fingers. This entire episode lasted no more than five minutes. While he had his hand inside his briefs, he glanced over at my bed where my head was, and although he could not see my eyes and had no knowledge that I was anything other than in a deep sleep per my usual routine, he pulled his covers over himself before continuing to do something rhythmic under the covers in the area where his cock and balls would be. He still had his book in hand, but there was activity going on with his other hand.

Soon, Brett threw off his covers and, respecting my presumed sleep, quietly went to the bathroom. He was still hard. As soon as I heard the door click, I rolled over onto my back and jacked off in a frenzy. I came in seconds, and I jizzed all over my body and the sheets. I knew that I’d have to try to sleep despite the cold, slick spots of cum on the sheets, but I didn’t care at all. Who wanted to sleep anyway? I had just experienced my gorgeous roommate playing with himself, and the gears of my imagination were spinning. The next morning, I was so horned up in the apartment and couldn’t help jacking in the shower while he was shaving and humming on the other side of the shower curtain. Despite our rush to get dressed and head off to class, he might have noticed my post-cum bulge while I was getting dressed. We headed out for our morning of school, and I couldn’t wait to get back to the apartment after work that night to see if I could catch the same show that I saw the night before. It became a nightly routine: go to work, jack off in the work bathroom due to excitement about possibly catching Brett fondling himself later that evening, then dashing home to play it cool while I was on fire inside.

Thanksgiving break was coming up in a couple of weeks, and since his parents and family lived overseas and he hadn’t made plans yet to go anywhere, I invited him to come with me to my grandmother’s house in Kansas. He excitedly accepted since he would have otherwise just spent Thanksgiving by himself in the apartment. This was more than satisfactory to me because I wanted to go out drinking one night with him and see if he might be interested in a blowjob as drunk straight guys often get. Also, my grandmother lived in a two-bedroom house and Brett and I would likely end up sharing the double bed in her extra bedroom — another very satisfactory element to the trip that I hoped would pay off in spades.

We left on Wednesday after classes and drove the two hours in his 1978 Honda Civic, a car which he painstakingly nursed along with dutiful oil changes and spark plug cleanings. In addition to being a wonderful guitarist, he had mechanic skills. On the way, we talked about college, about his undergrad experience in Arizona, about Stacey, and about other guy things. He asked me about my girlfriend (who was non-existent) and whether or not I saw myself getting married. At this point in my life, I was still 100% in the closet, so I didn’t want to drop any hints about my sexuality. I let him ask his good-natured questions about my family, and I plied him with questions about growing up in South America. Since he was driving, I had more than enough time to continue to admire the easygoing way he carried on the conversation and the way that he managed the clutch and stick shift of his pride and joy. How I wanted his hand to be working my stick, but I needed to wait until we got to my grandmother’s house before I subtly inquired about his interest … if I inquired at all.

My sweet grandmother had already made up the guest room by the time that we arrived, and we both dropped our suitcases beside our respective sides of the bed and headed to the dining room for a simple supper before the next day’s feast. After we ate, the Uno cards came out and we played until after dark. Soon, my grandmother said that she was heading off to bed and would see us in the morning. Brett and I adjourned into the small living room and, since TV reception wasn’t much to speak of, we started to talk again.

I asked about his undergrad dorm life experience, and he responded with the fact that he never did stay in a dorm. In fact, when he came up to college from South America, he moved straight into an apartment because dorm life never appealed to him. We continued talking about college life, the intense recruiting schedule that we were both under, and trying to find ways to compare our upbringing. We had talked well into the night when, without warning, he switched to a topic that made my balls tingle: masturbation. He began to tell me how he enjoyed his privacy and how he had a stash of porn magazines in his previous apartment that he kept under his bed. I wasn’t shocked to hear that he had been addicted to jacking off and would do so several times throughout each day. (I, too, had a hunger for beating off — my record was 12 times in one overnight period.) The reason that he wasn’t so aggressive with masturbation anymore was because he was so busy with school, he confessed. Then he dropped the Tsar Bomba: he had to jack off in the bathroom every night before he went to sleep, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep at all. However, that was the extent of it, he stated. I was rendered speechless, and I’m pretty sure my eyes boggled out of my sockets at his pronouncement.

After this flood of sexual information from a young man who I found adorable and highly fuckable, you can bet your boots that I was as hard as a damn rock. We had both worn sweats on our trip from college to my grandmother’s house, and I was grateful that I had chosen to sit cross-legged in my grandma’s recliner because my upward-pointing cock would have been a very visible bulge to him if I had sat in any other way. I had my hand resting on my bulge so that I could adjust myself a couple of times as we were talking, and I knew that I had precum filling my foreskin and soaking into my boxers. I wondered if he had managed to arouse himself with his lengthy monologue on porn and jacking off, and I began to feel a camaraderie with him that deepened as we kept talking, looking at each other. There seemed to be a connection with him that hadn’t existed before that night.

The conversation continued with both of us talking about how and when we had jacked off when we were younger. He wanted to know if I thought that there was anything wrong or sinful with doing it, and I told him that I had no idea about the spiritual aspect of it but since it felt so amazing, I didn’t really care. He agreed, and we laughed so hard at that comment, I thought for sure that my grandma would wake up! But she had taken out her hearing aids, apparently, and couldn’t hear a thing. We even talked about the riskiest place that each of us had jacked off; mine was in the back seat of the family car when I was in high school and all of our family was returning from a trip to the beach, and his was in the stacks of bookshelves at his undergrad college. We were both still virgins due to similar strict religious upbringings, and we admitted that masturbation was both a way to relieve sexual tension and also a way to bring some pleasure to life. He yawned deeply and stretched, flexing his thick legs straight out in front of him and squeezing his thighs together. Holy shit if he didn’t have a fat bulge just like I had suspected he might! He flexed it, as well, and it grew full inside his grey sweats. I tried to appear nonchalant, but I couldn’t resist looking at it. As I adjusted my own cock, I shifted my gaze from his crotch to his eyes and was embarrassed to see that he had seen me looking at him. I ducked my head and looked away, caught in the act.

I was still in a crazy sexy fog that had settled upon me when he had switched the conversation topic, and I needed so bad to get off. I didn’t want to stand up and head to the bathroom to relieve the pressure because I didn’t want him to see that I was fully erect and had a precum spot on my grey sweats. Despite the fact that I wanted to fuck him raw right then and there or have him fuck me raw, he didn’t know that I was gay and I didn’t want to out myself to him and potentially ruin the living arrangement that had been working out so well for both of us in the apartment. Yet, if he had stood up and taken a step toward me, I’d have definitely had an orgasm just by shifting positing in my chair. My dick had come out of the flap of my boxers and was tingling furiously.

The conversation slowly wound down since it was past midnight and we had been awake since 6:30 the previous morning when we were getting ready for class. It was past time to go to bed. Brett, also wearing grey sweats with the logo of his undergrad college on the thigh, stood up and headed toward the bathroom. It took my breath away to see that he had a dark spot on his sweats like I had on mine! It wasn’t as big a spot as mine, but still, clearly a precum spot! He didn’t have a the same sizeable bulge that I had been so blessed to see earlier, but there was still a fat lump, What could his trip to the bathroom mean? Knowing that he had to masturbate in the bathroom before he fell asleep, and believing that this was the reason for his bathroom visit now, a rush of adrenaline and excitement filled my body. My head was absolutely buzzing; I couldn’t think straight. I wanted so badly to get up from the chair and follow him into the bathroom, but where would my manners be? I was, after all, sort of hosting him at my grandmother’s house and didn’t want to be a creep. The door clicked shut and I was on tenterhooks.

Stealthily, I rose from the chair and tiptoed to the hallway to give a listen. There was nothing erotic about what I heard: he was taking a long piss. I turned as if I was going to walk down the hallway to the bedroom, but instead of walking, I stood still to hear if he would maybe make any noise that would further give away his actions. Again, there wasn’t anything remarkable about the sound of water in the sink as he likely washed his hands, then the doorknob rattled as he turned it to exit the bathroom. I reached down into my sweats and boxers to put my dick back where it belonged and started to walk toward the bedroom as soon as I heard the sound of the doorknob. Brett took time to turn off the light in the living room and came into the bedroom a couple of moments later.

I was taking off my t-shirt and sweats as he came in. I’ve never been one for sleeping in pajamas or even shorts, and although it was a cold November that year in Kansas, I had never worn anything to bed other than boxers — when I wore anything to bed at all. In the apartment, I always wore boxers to bed when Brett was there, and he always wore his white briefs. This night would be no different for me, so I stripped down to my dark blue boxers and pulled back the covers to get into the bed. I was aware of him taking off his clothes as well, and I glanced his way to see that he had his back to me and was pulling on a pair of basketball shorts over his briefs. This was highly irregular! I anticipated briefs like always, but perhaps he was a bit too modest to wear only underwear to bed when sleeping alongside another guy. He didn’t seem at all bothered by me being in boxers, though, and we both got into bed at the same time.

A double bed doesn’t offer much room for two college boys, especially two tall guys who have decently fit physiques. My job required lots of loading and unloading of boxes, so my upper body was toned. My legs were nowhere as manly as his, but all the squatting with boxes that I had to do at work had given me a thick ass and nice definition of my quads with which I was secretly pleased. His everywhere was toned; plus he had thighs for days. We were already bumping into each other in that small bed, and we laughed at the awkwardness. I turned away from him as he turned away from me, and I turned the bedside lamp off. The darkness of rural Kansas filled the room as we lay there breathing, waiting to fall asleep.
I would have thought that after being awake for over 18 hours that sleep would eagerly descend upon me, but it was elusive. Who was I fooling, anyway? I was aroused by the radiant heat from Brett’s body warming my own body. Further, I was trembling from the excitement of lying next to him, my mostly-naked body wanting to become one with his, and I hoped that, if he could feel it, he would just interpret it as shivering and not actual trembling out of sexual excitement.

Soon, his breathing deepened and I knew that he had fallen asleep. The thought occurred to me that I had neither gone drinking with him, nor had I shared my sexuality with him. Maybe the next day on Thanksgiving we would be able to go out and I would find my courage, but that night wasn’t going to offer an opportunity for that. I don’t remember falling asleep, but it finally happened. The coldness of the room didn’t bother the two of us who were keeping each other warm underneath the sheet and three blankets covering us.

I woke up from a dream in a sweat; it was very warm under the covers despite the room being frosty. Why was I so warm?! I realized at that moment that Brett had rolled toward me and our bodies were pressed against each other’s, and I noticed that his left arm was resting on my stomach. Also, since I had awakened from a dream, I had a stiff boner that was again protruding from the flap of my boxers. All of these realizations came upon me at once, and I started trembling again. The emotions that rushed over me with at happened next will stick with me forever. Brett whispered, “Don’t move,” and pressed his boner into my hip. I convulsed with the shock and excitement of being awakened into the situation that I had secretly and crazily desired for months. He said, “You’ve had a boner for a while.” I asked, “How do you know?” He replied, “I’ve touched it.” I was freaked out and hideously aroused by his admission, so I replied with a mouth that was so dry, “Touch it again.” He slid his arm back across my stomach until his hand passed the elastic waistband of my shorts and he could take my dick in his hand. The moan that he drew from me must have emboldened him, because he began to rhythmically press his dick into my side (had he been doing this while I was asleep?) and he so gently squeezed my cock with the same rhythm. I could smell his body better than I had ever been able to in the apartment, and I wanted him to take me in any way, shape, or form that he desired. The room was pitch black, but fireworks were going off in my mind.

I threw caution to the wind and said, “I want to get naked,” and he replied, “So do I.” We fumbled with each other’s shorts under the covers. Mine came off easily as did his basketball shorts, but his briefs had to roll down his legs due to the way that we had been sweating against each other. He was so hard! We tossed our shorts over the side of the bed and put our arms back under the bedding so we could feel each other’s bodies. His hands were busy at my crotch as he felt around my dick and balls, sliding the foreskin back to feel the slickness of the precum that had started to build up inside of it. He was so damn gentle with me, but I hardly cared since my hands were on him. I caressed his neck and strong arms, his toned chest and stomach, and his muscular thighs, all the while returning to the prize of his wonderfully hard dick and his balls which surely were so full of cum and needed release. “Wanna kiss?” I asked, and he murmured “Mmmmhmmm” before moving in to lightly kiss me. I turned to face him, took his head in my hands, and brought him in closer to kiss him a little more fervently than he may have intended. My quick rationale was that if he had felt sexual enough to grind against me and touch my dick while I was asleep, I had nothing to lose by taking initiative and getting what I had wanted for so long. He didn’t resist my eagerness, and he responded with eagerness of his own. Our lips parted and our tongues began to probe and quest each other’s mouths. I sucked his lips and felt his slight beard stubble rasp against the tender membrane of my lips — it was incredibly erotic. Meanwhile, his hands were on my ass pulling me into him as we were each grinding against other. There was no doubt in my mind that I was smearing my precum against his cock and stomach, and I couldn’t have cared less. This was a fantasy coming true in real life, an absolutely passionate expression of lust between two men who were going to give their virginity to each other if I had my way.

I rolled on top of him and found that even though I was taller than him by three inches at least, my I could barely straddle him due to his muscularity. We continued to make out, gasping, moaning, and grunting like wild creatures as our bodies responded with abandon to each other’s touch. I nuzzled his neck and smelled the most delicious aroma of clean sweat, body wash, and deodorant. My man was positively scrumptious and I was taking it all in greedily. He gently thrust his hips forward to gently fuck my back with his upward-curving dick. When he breathlessly uttered, “Oh my god!” I knew that we were going to make history that night in that bed. I kicked all the covers off the bed and let the room begin to warm up through the radiant energy of our physical activity. Without a clock in the room and with no real way to tell the time other than by the dawning of the sun that would ultimately happen, I felt absolutely outside of the realm of time and space as I made love to a man who had never until we slept together that evening given off any vibe of attraction to me or interest at all in men.

As happens when two guys get physical with each other, one becomes submissive and the other becomes dominant. As luck would have it that night, Brett seemed to take the submissive role and let me do to him whatever I pleased. Here I was wanting him to take me, but he was letting me take him! This only served to fuel my internal firestorm and give me crazy energy, so I took his hands in mine and placed them above his so that his armpits were exposed. I worshiped his biceps, triceps, and the fold of his shoulder muscles with my fingers while our tongues continued to service each other’s mouths. He flexed his body again and pushed his dick firmly against my back, and I responded by thrusting mine against his sweaty abs. I left his mouth and moved to his right armpit to deeply inhale the rich scent of his sweat and deodorant. The smell was akin to a sexy locker room scent — testosterone, deodorant, and sweat. My own scent was mixing with his as we moved closer and closer to becoming one lover that night. I took his armpit hair in my mouth and tasted it, the first time to ever do this with anybody else. The taste was a combination of saltiness and bitterness, but combined with his manscent, it was like participating in a lascivious bacchanalia. Our bodies and minds couldn’t get enough of the mutual feasting. Our imaginations were awash with interpretations of pleasure and desire; we were sailing on the blackest of seas with only each other’s company to keep us afloat and forward-moving.

I wanted to explore his cock with my mouth, so I started to slowly move away from his mouth and spend some time kissing and licking the hollow of his neck, sucking his erect nipples (to which he responded with gasps) and down to his abs. where I spent more than a moment licking them, kissing them, and feeling their firmness with my fingers. His hands had moved from above his head to now rest on my shoulders in an attempt to push me farther down toward his pulsing cock, but I wasn’t going to rush this experience. I had waited for months, he could wait just a bit longer himself. I smelled his faint treasure trail and gave it a sensual lick before continuing to move down. I buried my face in his college boy bush and again inhaled deeply to smell the richness of his manscent and the tang of testosterone. Since he was on his back and had his knees bent, I moved down to kneel between his bent knees. My feet were hanging off the end of the bed, but there wasn’t any danger of falling off. I took his cock in my hands and he thrust his hips upward as if he was penetrating an invisible ass. On my first downward stroke, I discovered that he had been leaking precum as much as I had been — his cut dick couldn’t hold the precum, and it flowed out generously. I used my left hand to hold the downward stroke gently at the base of his dick, making the skin of his penis incredibly taut; then I used my right thumb and forefinger to encircle the ring of his cock head and slowly and lightly stroke the super-sensitive ring like I enjoyed doing to myself when I had some time alone and could really get into edging. “Ohhhhh, man. Oh my god! Ohhhhhhh fuuuck,” Brett kept repeating between grunts and gasps. I could tell that he wanted so badly to cum, but once again, I wasn’t about to spoil this moment with my lover with just a quick handjob. He was sensuously writhing in what must have been incredibly agonizing pleasure as I tortured him in the way that only someone who knows what feels good to a dick could do. Again and again, I worked the glans up, down, up, down, and the precum kept flowing. I would take my own precum and use it as additional lube for him, my uncut cock keeping it in reserve until I needed it. Now I took my left hand off his cock and took his ball sack into my fingers, gently encircling it at the base where it had gathered tightly against his body. I gently, so gently, stretched it, lengthened it, felt him flexing his dick and trying to pull his balls back up against him so he might possibly be allowed to cum, but I wasn’t having it. I don’t know how long I kept him in this suspended state of anxious pleasure, but he was loving it and so was I.

Finally, the moment came for me to taste his manhood. Still keeping his balls pulled away from his body, I went down on him slowly and took the head of his cock into my mouth. I traced the ring of his dick that I had been torturing and felt the bumps and erect nerve endings that provide the intensity of pleasure to all men. I was able to taste his sweetness of his precum and lick the slit from which it was erupting. He continued to writhe and flex in pleasure as I attempted to take his girthy cock entirely in my mouth. I couldn’t deepthroat him the way that I wanted to so badly, he was so big; yet, for all that I was able to do and had been doing, he was expressing his appreciation through his guttural vocalizations, body language, and, just then, through his taking my head in his powerful hands and using me mouth as his fucktoy. “Feels soooo good,” he grunted, using my name. “Oh my god!” He fucked my face again and again while I continued to keep his scrotum pulled taut away from his body. The abuse that I was receiving seemed more like an irresistible heavenly punishment which I could not and, indeed, didn’t want to avoid. What fantasies this night would continue to provide for months and years to come!
Then, without warning, he pulled my head away from his dick. “I’m gonna cum if we keep doing this,” he murmured. “That’s the plan,” I replied as I went back down on him and sucked him so furiously that you would have thought I was slurping a melting ice cream cone. There was no more teasing, no more trying to extend the torture, there was only me sucking and stroking him. His hands had moved away from my head; perhaps he had put them above his own head again so that he could expose his gorgeous armpits and flex his body. I took no time away from my mission discover what had happened to them. No, I was intently focused on the goal at hand: bringing him to climax and drinking his cum. Any other priorities were rescinded. His massive thighs closed in around me as I continued to hold his sack away from his body despite its full intention of tightening up to let Brett cum, but I knew that his orgasm would be better in every way if I just managed to keep his scrotum stretched tightly. Stroke and suck, stroke and suck. I was enclosed by his legs, secure as any boy in daddy’s protection. Suck and stroke, suck and stroke. Then he grunted out a sound that could only indicate that he had started the progressive climb to the point of no return. Suck and stroke, stroke and suck, suck and stroke. He had his hips pushed up and off the mattress and he attempted to hurry the moment any way he could. The excitement of drawing his load from his body compelled me to continue.

He grunted again. And again. Surely he was ready?? “Mmmph, ahh, OHHHHHHHHH!” he shouted as he reached the point of climax. Obviously unconcerned about whether my grandmother could hear him or not, he continued to shout “OHHH, OHHHHHHH, OHHHHHHH,” as I milked his load from him. My cock was a dripping mess of precum already, but what Brett was producing felt epic in volume. Stroke, stroke, stroke. He was shuddering and twitching convulsively as I kept pumping. My mouth was full and overflowing, so I swallowed his load not once but twice and yet he continued to produce more. It was an absolute gusher that began to run down my cheeks and my neck. His vocalizations had lessened in fervor to become moans of “Oh my god. Oh my god. Fuck.” I returned to the
earlier procedure of slowly and gently stroking his glans with my encircled thumb and forefinger, and I released his nutsack so that it could do whatever it wanted to in the confusion of the afterglow. As I caressed his still semi-erect cock, his body continued to twitch and he gave the occasional gasp. “That was awesome, dude,” he managed to hoarsely whisper. “How can I get you off?”

I climbed back on top of him and started to make out with him again. His hands found my penis and gave it a strong squeeze. I knew that my moment had arrived, that this was probably the only moment in my life that I would feel comfortable asking for what I so desperately wanted from another man. “You really want to know?” I asked. “I want to fuck you.” He quickly took his hands off of my dick and seemed to shrink in size. “I promise I won’t hurt you, Brett,” I encouraged. “I’ve never done it before with anyone, so you would be my first.”

He was silent. I couldn’t even hear his breathing. I could only hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, and I could feel the coldness of the room again as he contemplated my request.

“Are you gay?” he asked as he once again used my name. And here it was again: a moment when my future would change based on how I answered this question. How had the perfect evening come to me outing myself, I wondered. How had we just come through the most amazing sexual experience for either of us to date only to have him ask this question? I knew that I had in a way already outed myself as a cocksucker, so in the seconds it took for me to gather myself together, I confessed, “Yes.”

“Wow,” he commented. And again there was silence. Then he said, “So am I,” and before I could either comment or protest, he grabbed me and forced me down onto the mattress so he could straddle me. We started making out again, and the boner that had fizzled when he asked me if I was gay burst forth with new vigor. Within seconds, I was raging again but was pinned down by Brett’s larger mass. Now it was my turn to have my dick pressing up against his back and to feel the warmth of his spread ass on my lower belly. He stated, “You are an awesome lover,” and proceeded to use his ass cheeks to tease my dick. My moaning started anew as his warm and wet mouth pleasured my face and neck while my cock was getting another foreskin-full of precum. When he stopped making out with me, I could feel his body change position as he rose up a bit on his knees and brought my cock head to his ass. “Let me get used to it first,” he said, then he slowly slid down onto the head of my dick. Oh. My. God. The tightness of his virgin ass, the taste of his mouth, the pressure of his thighs squeezing my hips, it was all becoming unbearable. I grasped his waist and stroked my hands up and down his thighs. “I want to be inside you,” I said, and he responded by slowly riding my cock head up and down. Up and down. Why wouldn’t he let me all the way in?? Up and down. It felt slick and tight, and I was glad at that moment to be a man who produces such copious amounts of precum. My balls had to be tight against me as the pleasuring continued. Up and down. Up and down. I thrust my hips upward in order to enter him properly, but he pushed me back down onto the bed. “No way,” he murmured, “It’s my turn to do you.” Up and down, up and down.

With no warning, he slid all the way down my shaft and came to rest with me fully inside of him. The feeling was of tightness, warmth, wetness, and hardness all combined in a most pleasurable mixture. He rested there atop me simply squeezing his ass cheeks and riding me in the gentle way that such a position provides. Then, as he continued to hold me inside, he leaned forward to press his once-again-hard cock against my stomach and to find my mouth with his again. I surrendered my life and soul to him right then and there! My dick had never been more engorged and pulsing, I had never felt sensations like I was feeling right then, and Brett clearly knew what he was doing. I wanted to marry him. We made out briefly before he once again rose to be atop me and to claim his mission of bringing me to climax.
My hands were again on his waist and thighs. I could feel his quads flexing as he slid up and down fully on my shaft. I was in ecstasy with the desire to cum inside of my roommate who was fulfilling every fantasy that I had ever had. I wanted to breed him with my babies and keep pumping him until my load spurted from his ass. I wanted to eat my load out of his ass and share it with him. Every possible sexual position that I had ever seen coursed through my imagination. Up and down. Up and down. I felt the familiar tingle-tickle start to build in my lower abdomen and in my nutsack. The pleasure was intense. I gasped, “I’m getting close!” He responded, “That’s the plan,” and kept slowly pumping me. Up and down. Up and down. My body shook once with a convulsion as I neared the point of no return, and I tried to lift my hips again to heighten the sensation. Once again, he pushed me back down onto the mattress. I tried again, and again he pushed me back. Up and down. Up and down. “Let me move,” I said. “Nope. This is all me,” he leaned in and whispered. That was when I knew that he was not a sub at all but instead a dom who enjoyed being pleasured and who would enjoy delaying the orgasms of his subs. But where had he obtained his experience?

Up and down. Up and down. I was indeed getting close, and I could feel the precum continuing to leak out of my dick, keeping everything slick and moving. His hands were questing across my torso and came to rest on my nipples. He took them between his fingers and squeezed them hard. I gasped and would have leaped from the bed if he hadn’t been weighing me down. The feeling was like lightning in my chest and in my dick. Up and down, up and down, now with slightly more vigor. Another squeeze, this one harder than the first. I cried out in both pain and pleasure and he began to ride me incrementally more quickly. Oh how I hoped that my grandmother wasn’t listening at the door, but how could she even know about us since she always took her hearing aids out? Up and down up and down up and down. He pinched my nips again so hard, I screamed, “STOP!” but he kept on riding me. I was in so much incredibly continuous divine pleasure that the brief feelings of lightning served only to add to the pleasure in ways that I hadn’t experienced before. Up, down, up, down up down. He was absolutely working for my load. Just like Elio’s youth to Oliver’s experience, I could put up no resistance that he could not break down.

Then it happened. I reached the point that we all want, that point where regardless of what we do, we are going to jizz. I uttered, “I’m coming. I’m COMING!” and his meaty ass started to be filled with my load. There was no thinking, there was no expressing, there was no holding back, I simply surrendered my body to his mastery as his ass milked out what seemed like gallons of cum. Updownupdownupdown. Was I moaning, weeping, laughing, yelling? I don’t remember. I just remember the heightened sensation of being squeezed all over my dick and all over my legs while cumming, and my stomach, dick, nipples, and balls were tingling as if they were all contributing to my load. He rode me and rode me. When I thought that I was done, I could feel another orgasm building, so I huskily begged, “Keep going!” I broke over the crest of this orgasm sooner than my previous one, but the sensations were more intense. Updownupdownupdown. I couldn’t even vocalize any longer, these ejaculations consumed my life as the universe wheeled darkly overhead. Pulse after pulse after pulse of hot cum erupted from my shaft until I must have been drained completely dry. He had worked every drop of cum out of me and I was spent.

He rolled off of me and my dick flopped onto my stomach. My arms were limp against the headboard, I couldn’t even reach down to see if my semen had leaked from his ass while he was pumping it out of me. He lay next to me, hot and sweaty. The room smelled like a sexy locker room again, but this time there was the unmistakable aroma of jizz in the air. I turned toward him and reached out for his cock only to discover that it was rock hard again. I leaned into him and turned toward me. I took his cock between my thighs and squeezed it while we made out for the third time that night. We were holding each other’s heads in our hands and gently kissing each other’s faces, noses, eyelids, and lips. I sucked on his lips again and he sucked mine. I hoped that he was as turned on by my very faint beard stubble as I was by his serious growth. Eventually, our hands moved down to bring our bodies close together in an erotic snuggle. He was still rock hard (was there no end to his ability to stay hard?) and I was hard again as well. We lay there long enough that the room cooled down and, similarly, our bodies cooled down. I got out of bed and threw the sheet and blankets back in place. As I snuggled back under the covers and into Brett’s arms, he gave me a kiss and said, “Ride me tomorrow night, cowboy.”

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/exem61/an_ozarks_thanksgiving_miracle_mm_long