“I think I love you…”
Those words, whispered in my ear as I ground my dick into “R’s” ass, shocked me so much that I lost my load instantly but not even the power of the sensory overload I was experiencing could stop those words from echoing around inside my skull like a ricocheting bullet.
But I must digress back one week and, really, more than that, back to the day after R challenged me to wrestle (and got his ass kicked) and he revealed his reasoning for putting himself in harm’s way (even though I wouldn’t have seriously hurt him, mind you). His reason had floored me, made me angry with myself because I never saw the obvious thing he was now pointing out to me. Still, minutes after he revealed his true intention, well, I felt compelled to take him to bed and conceding to his request to suck my dick and, ah, man, what a pleasure that was for the both of us and more so for me when I went after his cock and drained him dry amidst his, um, overly passionate cries for salvation.
The next day, we talked about it; no promises made or anything like that but I did sit with him, sipping some lukewarm coffee and listening to him tell me how he felt about me. As he did so, wow, I found I was feeling… something but something that I chalked up as appreciation of his open honesty about the way he felt; indeed, I remember telling him that I really liked him but maybe not as much as he obviously liked me. I felt… comfortable with him and his now-obvious gayness; he was maybe a little more effeminate for my sensibilities but, hmm, despite that, he was really okay with me and, yeah, I did think that he could suck my dick better than anyone had to date.
I’d have to say that we spent a lot of time giving each other mind-shattering blowjobs, which I truly enjoyed despite the way he would, um, well, ear, kinda act like a virgin whenever I blew him – and I knew he was no virgin because he told me all about his past lovers. He kept begging me to fuck him and I kept balking at it… but I wasn’t really sure why; later, I u derstood that the reason why I had balked was because I had a feeling that it would start something that couldn’t be finished.
But, um, shit… things got to the point where I could no longer avoid fucking him, that saying “no” wasn’t the right thing to do. After I sucked him dry, I got his ass all nice and slick, got my dick in that same condition, and slid into him… and was instantly reminded of that transvestite I’d had sex with a few years before. God… it felt so good to be inside him and, I dunno, I could only guess that his wish had come true giving how he was crying – I’m sure that he wasn’t crying because I was hurting him.
This went on for a few days; we were now in that crazy period where we were having sex with each other at every available moment and in any place we could. As I’ve related in the past, I finally got him to fuck me… after I had to practically beat him up first, something he enjoyed; I confess that I had never actually seen a guy get mildly “roughed up” and bust a huge nut behind that – and keep his cock hard enough to do what I had forcibly demanded he do.
Which, as you know if you’ve been following me for a while, really got on my last good nerve. I just couldn’t deal with his overly feminine behaviors when we made love but, to be hypocritical, it didn’t bother me enough to stop taking him whoever it could be done… that and I was beginning to suspect that I was feeling more for him that just lust and mere friendship. Then…
“I think I love you…”
He said this to me, I creamed his ass before I wanted to and after the rush of orgasm swept over me, I raised myself up, looked deeply into his green eyes – he was crying again – and said, “Damn it, I think I love you, too…” I kissed him and felt myself melting which wasn’t odd for me to feel whenever I kissed him… but now I knew why kissing him would have me feeling like melted butter; I had originally thought that it was because this was the only guy I actually enjoyed kissing… but, nope, that wasn’t it at all.
I pulled out of him, took a deep breath, and proceeded to suck him off again, blocking out his whiny pleas to not do this to him; he came strongly into my mouth and, to my surprise, passed the hell out cold. I covered him up, put my clothes on, and left him to sleep… and went into the other room to ask myself what the fuck just happened – and I didn’t mean the sex, either. I mean, what the fuck did I say to him? And did I really mean it?
Turns out that I did mean every word of it…