Friday, February 24, 2012

Weekend Recovery Part 2: The Exhausting

As I said in Wednesday's post, my hook-up with the Professor left me feeling more relaxed and happy than I had been in a long time. Physically I was still a bit on edge from all the work I had been doing the past couple of weeks, but mentally the night was like a deep tissue massage in all the right places. He had asked me to stay over, but I felt it would be better to sleep in my own bed that night to take the most advantage of how blissfully tired I was, as I never sleep well in a new bed. Especially with a body next to mine.

I woke up late the next morning, skipping my usual Sunday morning Formspring post in the interest of taking advantage of the chance to be lazy and slow waking up. But shortly after I woke up, I was getting hit up by an attractive bear cub interested in hooking up. I was very turned on by his pictures, some of which included him in a nice, tight baseball uniform. He also sent me pictures of his hairy chest and nice, round ass. He complimented my ass as well, and told me that even though he was a bottom, he loved to rim a hairy hole. Perfect. I was definitely interested in meeting up with him, and thinking that I had nothing else going on, I made plans to meet up with him that day.

I had just gotten naked to shower and wash my hair before my hook-up when I got a call from a friend telling me about a party that night a short trip out of the city. I had known about the party, but not really made any plans to go. My friend, however, was begging me, relying on my sense of chivalry by saying that she was either going to get lost on the bus or make some bad life choices at the party if I wasn't accompanying her. I sighed, but eventually gave in, knowing that it was probably a mistake to go to a party immediately after a hook-up, but partially not caring at all.

Remembering the baseball pictures, I wore a jockstrap under my jeans and pulled on my new pair of brown harness boots. I met Dillon outside the apartment and hopped in his car to make the short trip to his place which took us through a lot of interesting back roads I probably would never have gone down otherwise. I'm not convinced it got us there faster, but he seemed to think so.

Getting into his apartment was very interesting. He lives on the second floor of a house, and the steps leading up to his level didn't end in a porch, but actually onto the roof of the first floor's entryway. I was torn between thinking it was very strange and very cool to split a house in that way. His apartment, like mine and most that I ever go to, was packed tightly with more furniture and items than one would reasonably expect to keep in there. But it also had that lived-in feeling that makes you feel at home. It was cluttered, but you weren't worried about sitting in anything nasty. You got the feeling that he knew where everything was, even if no one else would.

It didn't take us long to get into his bedroom, which was dominated to one side by a king sized bed, and to the other side by a desk and the usual closet clutter that inevitably ends up on the floor in a bachelor's place. The headboard of his bed had a mirror on it, which I took a moment to privately smile at, never mentioning it to him. Once we were both comfortable on the bed, I quickly turned all my attentions to kissing him and taking his clothes off. He wasted no time in matching me with each piece of clothing, making it almost a race to see who could get the other naked first. We stopped with me wearing just my jockstrap and him wearing just his slider shorts (padded shorts to make sliding hurt less in baseball), both of us stopping for a breathless moment to take joy in what the other was wearing.

When we were both naked, he got on top of me, his weight a comfortable pressure on me. He rubbed his body on mine and my hand snaked its way back to his ass. My pointer finger, newly clipped, met very little resistance as it slid dry into his hole. It was warm and inviting, but also not nearly as cleaned out as I would have liked. We both quickly figured out that I was probably not going to fuck him, even if we didn't say anything to each other.

But that didn't stop the heat of the moment. Eventually we found ourselves in a sixty-nine position with his uncut cock pressed deep in my mouth and throat, and his tongue doing amazing things to my asshole. He had been skilled at sucking my cock, but his ass-eating skills is what I remember most, even days later. He chowed down on my hole, almost never pulling up for air, for a good forty minutes. I'll be damned if it didn't feel like longer though. And every so often he would pull out a new trick or angle that would make me moan and take his cock down to the root, my quick breath filling me with his clean, sweaty scent.

I started riding his tongue hard, amazed at the sensations. He even started pressing a finger to my hole, though it did not get very far in. I was in anal heaven. I lifted myself off of him, pulling his head up to meet mine, my tongue swabbing at his, trying to get the heady taste of my own ass out of him. He pulled back and with a smile that was all about desire he said, "You're a dirty boy, aren't you?"

"Was I not clear about that from the start?" I replied as I pushed my ass back over his mouth.

Shortly after that exchange my hole and balls started to throb pleasantly and I realized that I was getting close to an orgasm. It was a shock, considering my only stimulus had been his mouth on my hole and my hand occasionally grabbing my dick. I spewed my seed all over his chest and stomach, moaning and still managing to keep my sucking rhythm up. Shortly after I came to a jerking finish, his cum began pouring into my mouth. He shot a load with good volume, filling my mouth up twice, and then giving me still more cum. I held on to the last bit and once again pulled his head to mine, kissing his ass-flavored mouth with my cum-filled mouth. I fed him his own cum and he fed me my ass, and we both fell to the bed exhausted in each others arms.

He dropped me off at my friends apartment, and she and I began the bus trip to the party. I was overly aware, as I walked into the party, that my breath still smelled of cock and ass, and I immediately began to drink in an attempt to hide the scent, hoping that no one noticed. The early drinking never really ended, and eventually I had to be helped out of my clothes and into a guest bed by a couple of the guys at the party. I slept for a bit while things wound down, but woke up early enough to catch my friend talking her way into the bedroom of the brother of our host, and she didn't emerge again until early in the morning. I was no longer worried about my breath smelling like cock. I wasn't the only one with that issue anymore.

I went out with the others who had stuck around at the party for a brunch the next morning, and then didn't find myself back at my own apartment until three in the afternoon. I was tired, I was spent, I was still a little sick to my stomach, and I was totally and completely empty of the stress of the previous weeks. Of course, it meant that I needed some major recovery time. I'm glad to say that, almost a week later, I am finally back to my regular self. You could almost say I'm ready for another weekend just like it.

2 comments:

  1. Nice! I have went to public places after sex and wondering how many people could smell the after sex on me or notice the after glow.

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