Teen finds true love (and great sex) with an older guy

[rawTOP]

A man's got no choice of where he starts out in life, but he sure as hell can choose any road from there.

You don't know me buddy. I guess only a few people really do. My name is Trent--not "Trenton". That was my father's name, and no one calls me that. I never had a real home. Not like other guys. My mother was the town whore, and my father "Trenton", well--he was the man who knocked her up.

I grew up in the apple orchards, pruning trees and dragging smudge pots, as far back as I can remember, because there was no other way. I guess you could say, I sort of raised myself.

I was a tall kid, kind of quiet with wide-set, green eyes and dark brown hair. Matured pretty fast, and by age 17 was already six feet tall and weighed 180 pounds. God, I thought I was such a stud. My arms were big and solid from orchard work. My waist was 32 inches, my chest 46 inches--and already covered with thick curly hair. Was just waiting for the day, I'd wake up with a booming baritone voice to complete the package--but am still waiting.

I never smiled much, and probably still don't. Not that I'm unhappy, just tend to be a bit too serious, and forget to smile sometimes. A lot of guys tease me about that, and it doesn't take much to make me blush. So be kind. If I don't smile, just wink a little, and I'll catch on.

Yes, I like guys. God, how I like guys.

When I was a teen, with those hormones just starting to really surge, how I wanted to be fucked. On hot summer evenings, after a long day in the orchard, sunburned and sore, I'd lay naked on my bed. The windows would be open, and an evening breeze would blow down softly across my body, brushing the new hairs on my legs and chest so very gently.

I'd dream about the smell and taste of a man--his hands, his kisses on my mouth and face and neck--his whiskers rubbing me raw as I squirmed in his arms. I could feel his strength, his solidness, and the demanding weight of his body pressing deep against mine--deep into mine. His cock, powerful and driven by pure maleness, would be hot as fire and hard as steel.

I was so hot to fuck another guy. I'd lay there and jack off time after time, until my dick was almost bloody. I'd arch my back and bite my fist, to keep from screaming when I came.

Yes, I do like guys, and they like me. That just about says it all.

When I was a senior in high school, a couple of the local wanna-be-jocks (ie,...the Thompson Kid and his side-kick, The Beaver Faced Boy) decided to prove their manhood by beating up Darrell Hobart, the class religious guy. I could never figure out why exactly, other than they liked it, and enjoyed doing it.

Darrell wore neckties to school, and had glasses thick as Coke bottles. He wore a calculator strapped to his belt, and carried a half dozen number 2 pencils in a plastic sleeve in his shirt pocket. Maybe, Darrell weighed 98 pounds soaking wet. He always carried a Giddeon Bible, and was worried about "saving people's souls".

I sort of liked Darrell, because he never hurt anyone--for any reason, and he pretty much minded his own business. The world is a big enough place even for a "Darrell Hobart" to live in peace, and what the Thompson Kid and The Beaver Faced Boy did to him was wrong.

I'm not the kind of guy to look the other way.

I don't know how it happened really. Every afternoon during the winter, I did janitor work at the high school, after the other kids had gone home. On that day, I finished kind of late. As I walked out the back door, a torn page of the Bible blew across my feet. Then I heard laughter coming from behind the gymnasium. I went to find out what was going on.

Darrell was on the ground, bloody and sobbing, trying to crawl away, and those two fuckers were tag-team, stomach kicking him. The Thompson Kid had Darrell's Bible, and was tearing out pages, throwing them into the air, and laughing he was "helping to spread the gospel throughout the land."

When I arrived--they took a breather from Darrell, and started calling me everything but straight.

I didn't pay any attention to their threats--even the comments about my mother. Just helped Darrell up, and got his nose to stop gushing blood. Found his glasses, and made sure he wasn't badly hurt.

Then--I turned on those two laughing fuckers, and I beat the fucking shit out of them both.

I lost it buddy, and didn't stop. I probably would have killed them, if Miss Kimberly and George Wainwright hadn't pulled me off them.

The Thompson Kid swallowed his front teeth. It took fourteen stitches to mend his pretty face, and those double black eyes took more than half a year to heal. I'm told he still sort of looks like a raccoon.

The Beaver Faced Boy got off easy. He only puked blood for a week, and never had to worry about shaving again.

Both of them left in an ambulance. The Thompson Kid was bawling, and swearing to God ...someday he'd kill me.

Darrell--what they did to him, didn't seem to matter to anyone but me. In fact, I never heard another word about it. I bet Darrell even forgave them.

Me--now that's a good one. I left that day in handcuffs, got expelled from school, and for awhile ended up in a juvenile detention center in Wenatche, Washington. You see, the Thompson Kid's dad was the town sheriff, and the Beaver Faced Boy--well, his daddy just happened to be the mayor.

Maybe I was wrong in what I did--maybe not.

But don't hurt the innocent, and never call me Trenton.

I couldn't go back to school until the fall, and then had to repeat the entire year. You know something buddy, I don't regret one bit of it, and I'd do it again.

So I was 18, a hot young stud--kicked out of school--more than a social outcast--and just trying to survive in a little nothing town, in the heart of apple country. Life didn't look so great. There didn't seem to be much of a place in it for me, and I didn't even know--that there were other men like me in the world. That the man I kept dreaming about, actually existed, and his name was Zackary Thomas Hardiggen--my first and greatest love.

I will never forget the first moment I saw him.

It was mid-spring, apple blossom time, and a Friday morning. The sun was just rising, and the trees were shiny-wet with dew. The air was cold and smelled like damp earth, sweet apples, and fresh mowed grass.

To keep my teeth from chattering, I was stomping my feet, and sort of jogging in place, waiting for the foreman with a couple of other hired hands. This old pickup truck turned off the main road, drove up to the worker's hut, and Zack got out.

My heart and my cock "hurt" instantly. I got a knot in the pit of my stomach, and a dull ache in my ass, and started to tremble--but it wasn't from the cold.

Zack was in his 30s. Coal black hair and eyes. He was a bit taller than me. His hands and feet, shoulders and chest were bigger too. All of him was big, hard and lean. He was suntanned, and had a couple day's whiskers on his face--just right to rub me raw. The way he walked, the way he seemed to "know everything", had military written all over him.

To be honest with you buddy, I almost left, right then. He made my heart twist, and I knew I could never leave him alone. If I repulsed him, it would have killed me. But I couldn't run--didn't want to run.

The foreman made the assignments, and paired me off with Zack. The agony was incredible. Armed with a chain saw, field rakes, and loppers we headed east, down towards the river. Several rows of old trees had to be cut down, and the ground cleared. Later the stumps would be pulled out with a tractor and chain.

As we walked, I didn't look at him--couldn't talk to him. We got to the marked rows, and I had to say something. The foreman told me to make sure the new guy knew what to do--or he'd have my nuts in a jar on his desk (and he would too). I felt awkward and stupid, because I kept feeling like he was staring at me.

"These trees here," I said finally, "need to be cut first. You used a chain saw before?"

"Yep," was all he said. His voice was deep.

"You cut then and I'll stack." I turned away from him, then added, "My name is Trent."

"Zack--and I don't bite...." He pulled the start cord, and the chain saw started up. I missed the rest of what he said.

The dead tree branches started falling. I dragged them away and started a brush pile.

In a couple of hours both of us were dripping wet with sweat. The sun was climbing and it was hot--a beautiful hot day--with a solid blue sky, not a cloud anywhere. The world was very quiet, very still. The only thing that moved was us, and the bees in the apple blossoms.

We won't mention the growing bulge in my pants which I couldn't seem to control.

As it got hotter--off came our clothes. Wind breakers first. Then our sweat shirts. Then our coveralls. Then our T-shirts. God, it got hot. By noon, both of us were stripped to just about naked, only work boots and shorts. Well, we were also wearing cow hide work gloves. I had a baseball cap, and Zack wore sunglasses, but that really doesn't count.

Pretty much, we were side by side and naked.

I looked at him, all of him, and I wanted him to have a good long look at me too--and he did.

Sometime around midmorning, I forgot to be afraid of Zack. I was having too much fun just hanging out with him. He was so cool, so beautiful, everything about him. God, he made me laugh.

I found out he loved coffee, and never turned down a cup. So, being the good guy that I am, made sure he had gallons of it. It also went right through him. Watching that stud pull down his shorts, and take a piss in the orchard grass, was more than worth the five or ten times I sneaked back to the worker's hut to refill his thermos that day.

Zack's cock was gorgeous too. He was cut. His cock hair was curly, and shiny like black silk. He was hairy like me, but very different. That silky hair just blended into his lower abdomen, his stomach, his chest, then all the way to his powerful neck, where he shaved it.

I was "afraid" to think how big that cock could really get, and would have given anything to find out.

Zack made me feel happy and safe. That day, I fell very much in love with him.

When the quitting horn sounded, it was like the world was ending. In the orchards, hired hands come and go every other day or so. It would have broken my heart, if Zack was just passing through, and I'd never see him again.

He must have seen that look in my face. He pealed off his work gloves and came over to me. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing," I said looking at the ground.

"Nothing, ha? How about coming with me? I don't bite, not very hard anyway." And he smiled, bright white teeth, a solid man's clean smile.

That was too much. I was going to cry--and he understood.

He took his two powerful hands, roughed from years of work like my own, and lifted my face to look into his. He opened his lips, and kissed me, very deeply and very gently. I kissed him back, and the world spun black.

I opened my arms, and for the first time in my life was held and loved by anyone.

After work, we drove up into the foothills. Zack had an old trailer there, kind of hidden in a pine grove. He'd been there for two years, and I never knew it. A stream of water was nearby, cold and clear from the melting snows of the mountains above. He had a place for a garden, a couple fruit trees, and a little tool shed. He didn't want or need more.

That evening on a sun-warmed rock, overlooking the whole valley, we watched the sunset. We ate cold chicken and drank whiskey straight from the bottle.

Zack's arms were like knots of warm steel. He wrapped them around me, and held me very close. As we watched the light fade, I knew this was right. I belonged with a man. Very soon, and for the first time--would be with one too. Never again, would I not know, what it was like.

Zack began to nuzzle my throat with kisses almost a bite. His scratchy face left a gentle glow everywhere he touched. His lips were moist, man scented and soft. He made the hair bristle on my arms. He made my nipples hard, and my cock ache--all the way through me.

Zack knew I wanted him, also that I was afraid. He whispered in my ear, "Let's take a bath. I promise you'll never forget it."

My heart beat very fast. I'd waited for him all my life.

We stood and kissed, on that rock overlooking the Okanogan Valley. Our embrace was muscle and fire, and it consumed me. Zack's cut-offs were bursting tight. The air was damp and fragrant with him. He was trembling with need--and I realized then--he'd been waiting for me--to make sure I was ready for him.

I took Zack's hand in mine. They fit like a matched set--the right hand of man joined to the left hand of man.

I said, "I love you."

It sort of surprised him. He smiled ear to ear, but it was a sad kind of smile.

The sun dipped below the horizon and the night came.

Zack's tool shed was behind the trailer. There was a wood pile there too. He lit a kerosine lantern, and began to split kindling for a fire. As he worked, I watched his body move. He was very strong--stronger than me. The lantern's flame burned in the blackness of his eyes. His muscles glowed in it.

We gathered kindling and wood, then went into the shed. Zack made that little building out of broken apple bins, and thrown away aluminum siding. It was solid and secure--just like him. It smelled like pine, machine oil, and eucalyptus.

Zack did a lot of carpentry work, and that shed was mostly filled with his tools. There was also a wood stove, and a sleeper bench. In the center of the room, was a large steel tub with a water spigot.

Zack didn't say anything. He put the lantern on the floor next to the tub. He filled the wood stove with kindling and newspaper then lit it. He opened the spigot, and began filling the tub. This wasn't city water, or even well water--it was cold, sweet mountain water brought from the stream nearby. Its freshness saturated the air, and made me strangely hungry.

The wood crackled in the old stove, shooting sparks through the damper which landed harmlessly at my feet.

I pulled off my T-shirt, and sat on the bench. Then started to take off my boots--but he stopped me.

For a long time he just stood there, looking.

Then he knelt, and began to removed them, one crossed lace at a time--until my feet were naked in his strong hands. His eyes never left mine. They burned deep and incessant right through me.

He stood and lifted his shirt high above his head. His armpits were deep within a muscled chest. Tufts of man-hair, curled against his naked flesh, and glisten black in the firelight.

He drew me up to him, into his arms, into his muscles, into his strength, his warmth--himself.

For all Zack's hardness, his naked skin was soft, and smooth as oiled glass.

Our mouths met like wolves devouring flesh.

As we kissed, his roughened hands dug at my chest, tearing at the hair. It made the flesh burn--from the inside out.

His hands slid to my waist. They held me like a vice grip. Slowly, so very gently, he pressed into my navel with his thumbs--until the breath was driven from me. Deep in my pelvis came pain--a pain and pleasure and urgency--I prayed would never stop.

He was killing me.

Our mouths parted, and I moaned--sobbed.

He slowly rubbed my cheek with the back of his hand. It made a tiny sound against the day's whiskers.

I untied the draw string to my shorts, and slid them off. My jockeys were so soaked in sweat and precum; I could hardly peal them away. I stood there before him, naked and shivering. My cock was hard and trust upward towards him. I never had such a raging hard on in my life. So hard, so swollen--it was like being impaled, but from the inside--driven out.

Zack brought his hand to my cock. I winced, ready for his touch, but it never came. He caught a single drop of precum as it oozed from me. He held it with one finger--a sticky web still attached it to the head of my cock. He brought it to lips, and tasted--with a man's kiss.

I wanted him, all of him, and any way I could get him. Tonight, he could do anything to me, anything with or for me. I wanted to give myself to him--no matter what, and would never leave him--no matter what--if that is what he wanted.

Zack took both my hands, and brought them to his crotch. I rubbed his moist, hot, hardness--gently--then harder, and Zack's head went straight back. His eyes closed. His hands and teeth clenched.

He moaned, loud and long, and deep. The sound almost made me cum.

I felt his muscle heat. Like a furnace--burning me. His flesh was hot, oily and fragrant--with so many scents--that belong only to a man.

I popped the snap to his cut-offs, and could barely squeeze one hand inside them. His shaft was huge with bulging veins--hard as bailing wire. But, the hair was soft, long, and very thick.

I wanted that cock--in my hands, in my mouth--up my ass--as far as he could possibly drive it. I wanted his cock, but there was no way to get it. Those damned cut-offs would never slide off him, and the zipper was so wet, it wouldn't budge.

He teased me, just standing like that, moaning.

Finally, he took hold of the cloth with one hand, and tugged the zipper loose with the other.

It opened--one metal tooth at a time.

The wait was agony.

He made a tiny sound deep in his throat that made my nipples ache.

Then he was silent, just looking at me.

"What?" I finally asked.

"I just--fuckin'snagged--my balls!"

He grit his teeth and doubled over. It was the last thing I ever expected to hear.

"I'll get it loose," I offered.

He growled. I didn't move.

Gingerly, he tried to squirm free, but those cut-offs were so tight, he just couldn't do it.

I wanted to help him. Honest I did. A couple times, he almost let me too--but Zack couldn't stand it. Just one look at my hands, reaching out to him, and he'd just scream-dance away. No man has ever sworn as loud and long and terrible, as Zack Hardiggen, caught by his own zipper.

Just then, the forgotten tub overflowed. The icy water gushed onto the floor, and doused the lantern. Zack spun around to shut it off, before it reached his tools. He tripped over my boots, slipped, and hit the floor with a tremendous thud.

The zipper problem--sort of took care of itself.

Poor Zack, just sat there on the floor, clutching his damaged manhood with both hands. The only light came from the wood stove. It wasn't much, but enough to see his look--of utter dejection and humiliation. I sat on the floor next to him in a puddle of cold water, and put my head against his shoulder.

I tried very hard not to laugh, but it didn't work. I laughed until I was sick--until it made him laugh too, and everything was okay.

Zack was absolutely right. This was a bath I would never forget

He sat on the wet floor for a long time, rubbing the sting out of his balls. I knew he was hurting, but there wasn't a whole lot I could do. So, I just let him be. I found the lantern. It wasn't broken. Just needed to have the water wiped from the chimney, and the wick dried with a piece of newspaper. I got a dry match from the kindling box, and in a couple of minutes the lantern was blazing again...good as new. I hung it on a nail.

The shed was chilly, kind of damp, but the air was sweet. It made me very hungry. I was going to ask Zack, if he wanted something to eat, but I changed my mind. Just a bit ago, he'd been rubbing the ache from himself. He was still doing that, rubbing his balls deep and slow--but now he was rubbing--where the zipper hadn't caught him.

Zack had been watching me as I moved about naked, sort of shivering. I was glistening wet from the cold water, and there were goose bumps on my arms and legs. My nipples were very hard, and every hair on my body stood erect.

His smile made me weak.

I offered a hand to help him up. He took it, and pulled himself right up--into my arms. We held each other and kissed, long and deep. The cold left me, and my body began to burn again.

Zack's hands slid down my naked back, and came to rest on my ass. His hands were very strong, and he began to knead and massage my buttocks while he pressed his fingers into the fold between each cheek. My muscles warmed and relaxed to his touch. He pressed one fingertip to the opening of my ass, and gently rubbed it in a circular motion.

The sensation drove me wild with a fire and urgency that was in my pelvis. I wanted him to touch me there...deep inside my body where the slow flame burned.

I began to moan. My own sounds seemed to fan the blaze hotter.

"Fuck me Zack," I said. "Please...."

"Ok...." was all he said, as he snuggled kisses to my neck and massaged my ass.

He led me to the wooden sleeper bench, then slowly pushed me down to a sitting position in front of him. As I sat... his hard cock scraped against my naked stomach and chest until it rubbed against the side of my face.

Zack stepped back a little, and placed one foot on the bench next to me. He opened his legs very wide so I could see all of him. He was beautiful. Just beautiful. His thighs were hard, knotted with muscle, and covered with man hair. His stomach was flat and rippled like the marks, water leaves in the sand along a creek bed. His cock was huge, thick, piercing hard...and the veins bulged all along the shaft. The head of his cock was smooth, round and glistened wet in the firelight. His pubic hair was thick, very long, shiny, black, and curly. It glistened wet from mountain water and his own pre cum. Zack's balls were swollen and hung low between his legs.

I was so close to his crotch, I felt the muscle heat from his body against my face, and could taste the fragrance of his body in the air. I looked up in his eyes, smiled, then took the head of his cock in my mouth. It was delicious, smooth and fragrant--just like Zack Hardiggen.

"Oh baby," he moaned. He slid his shaft against the inside of my cheek, and I began to suck him. I moved my head slowly back and forth, rubbing his cock head against the smooth skin of my inner cheek while gently raking his shaft with my teeth.

I pulled his cock from my mouth and began to lick the head. The round hardness--the slit at the top that oozed pre cum in constant rivulets--I tongued the entire length of his shaft, sucking and kissing. His whole dick was covered in glistening wetness, saliva and pre cum. I stroked it slowly, solidly, and in only one direction--from the hairy foundation towards the head of his cock. I stroked him, pumping pre cum into my eager mouth.

"That's it," moaned Zack. "Oh yes...."

Zack's entire body swayed to the rhythm of my hands, my mouth and tongue on his cock. I felt his strength... the power of his entire body against my face. He was solid and heavy like green apple wood, and I knew he was going to cum soon. I could feel it building in him, the swelling, the urgency behind his thrusts. Any second now, he would arch his back, make a deep crying sound, and his seed would be thrust from his body in an explosion that only a man may know.

I wanted that. To feel his sperm shoot from his cock, in my mouth, on my face, down my chest. The thought of it made me tremble with hotness, and I began to stroke and lick and suck him harder and harder and harder.

I wanted that...but he wouldn't let me have it. Not yet...

Zack pulled away from me--very suddenly. He was breathing in great gasps. I could see his heart pounding in his powerful neck.

"Not this way," he said. "You asked me to fuck you, and I'm going to baby. I am going to fuck the living shit--right out of you."

He laughed... and it made me shudder with pleasure.

He placed a hand on my chest, grabbed hold of the hair, and pushed me over on my back. I started to topple, but he held me in place by the hair of my chest. It hurt like hell, but also made my whole body burn with desire.

Onto my back he slowly lowered me. Until I was looking up into his lovely face. I reached out to him, spread my legs wide open and pulled him down, onto me. The force of his body bent my cock up against my stomach--and against his.

It hurt...so very good.

I kissed him, and wrapped my arms around his strong shoulders, then buried my tongue in his mouth. He slipped free of my embrace. I smiled at him. He reached out, and stroked my cock. He ran his hand across my lower abdomen. It was wet from sweat and the mixture of both our pre cums. It made a sticky wet sound. He brought it to his lips, tasted--and smiled.

He was beautiful, and I wanted him.

He drew my knees up, almost to my chest. It tilted my pelvis up and towards him. He brought my buttocks down to rest on his hard thighs. I hadn't noticed until then that his cock was trust up between my legs, and was rubbing against the inside of my thighs, just under my own cock. He began to stroke both of us.

Pure fire shot through me, and I moaned, "Ahhhhhh...Oooooh." ...pure fire.

I tried to trust upward in rhythm to his hands, but I was pinned to my back by the weight and strength of his body. I couldn't move. He smiled at me then, opened his mouth very wide, doubled over, and in one quick motion, buried my cock in his throat.

The suddenness made me jerk, but the feeling was everything and anything but pain. It was like an orgasm without cumming. Zack had buried my shaft deep...every inch of it in his throat. His lips were soft and wet against my pubic hair; saliva and pre cum dripped from his chin. His wide open mouth engulfed me. His teeth scraped the length of my shaft, with the head of my cock somewhere deep in the soft, hot depths of his throat.

Like a jack hammer, Zack began to pound his forehead against my abdomen. It hurt with pleasure all the way through me. I grabbed his hair and thrust my pelvis upward, as his head came pounding down to me.

I sucked in air with great gasps, and started crying, half screaming with the force and pleasure of it all. The sound excited Zack even more. He reached under me, rubbing the wetness between my ass cheeks.

I spread my buttocks wide open for him, and he fingered my ass. I felt it tighten in response to his touch, but he didn't force me. He just waited, rubbing and stroking until I couldn't stand it any longer.

"Fuck me Zack!" I screamed. "Fuck me hard...now!"

And then suddenly, my body was opened wide, and hardness was driven into me. I was surprised by the sensation of burning, of pressure, and pleasure. But it wasn't Zack's cock in my ass... It was his three middle fingers, buried all the way to the knuckles. He finger fucked my ass at the same wild rhythm as he throat fucked my cock.

That was too much. I did scream...a man's wild scream of pure male pleasure and desire. I couldn't stand it...couldn't take it. It was horrible and wonderful and I couldn't stand it another moment, and NEVER wanted it to stop.

I couldn't hold back. "I'm cumming," I scream-sobbed. My back arched and I pumped loads of my sperm into Zack's throat. He moaned as he swallowed. I pumped cum in him like a fire hose. Eight or nine times in a row I shot load after load, and he swallowed it all.

The room was spinning. Every bit of my body was burning, humping, squirting and pounding.

Zack didn't move. Partly because my cock had impaled his head, partly because he didn't want to distract my pleasure, and partly because he didn't want to hurt me--not to mention himself.

Man, I was sobbing. I was hot, and squirming and everything hurt and felt wonderful.

All I could say was, "Oh yes... yes...."

The wave of passion burned over me. My heart pounded in my throat, and my body trembled stiff, until the burning passed through me, and I was limp in Zack's arms.

Gently, he turned me over on my stomach. It helped a bit. I wasn't nearly so dizzy. He folded a terry cloth towel into a pillow, and placed it under my head. Then, Zack grabbed both my thighs, and drew my ass up to his mouth. His tongue was all over me, licking and sucking my ass. His solid tongue stroking the length of the fold between my butt cheeks.

I was moaning again, moaning and writhing. He sucked on each of my balls gently, then firmly. My cock had never gone limp, even after pumping the "mother load" into Zack's eager throat. I was hard alright, hard and hot all over, and lost in the pleasure of his touch.

Zack got up on his knees and spread my legs open. They hung limply in the air on either side of his powerful thighs. There was nothing to rest them on, or prop them up against, and I didn't care. He was going to fuck me at last, and I was ready... was I ever ready.

He slid his cock between my cheeks and waited a moment. I wanted this more than anything. I took a deep breath and made my ass relax. He teased the opening with the head of his cock, teasing and testing a bit at a time, until the head was in my ass. I suppose Zack was being very careful with me. This was my first time, and he wanted it to be good. He was like that, gentle and strong, making sure you felt safe and good.

But, Zack wasn't going to make me wait any longer. I grasp hold of either side of the bench with my hands and pushed myself upward. At the same time, I shoved my ass backwards with all the force I could muster, and shoved every inch of him into my ass. I shoved hard and I shoved with desire and intention, and I buried him in me to the hilt.

It burned and tore with pure pleasure. I loved it.

My eagerness really surprised and pleased Zack. He knew what to do. He began to drive that huge cock straight into my spine. He twisted and turned, finding different areas inside me that made both of us squirm.

The rhythm drove me crazy. The heat, the pain-pleasure, the thrusting I swore it would crush my spine or break through the front of me. I breathed in gasps and all I could do was sway with him to the driving motion. This was the best of anything that could ever exist, and the closest that two guys could ever touch.

Great drops of sweat dripped from Zack's chest and forehead onto my naked back.

I felt his pleasure. I felt the power of it. I felt it burn and build. I felt it grow with every stroke. There was so much of him...driving right through me.

Zack was moaning, gasping and pounding into me harder and harder, faster and deeper. He leaned forward, and let the weight of his body fall onto me. It was crushing, driving the breath from me. His chest hair rubbed my back raw. He kissed my neck and shoulders, then bit at me, as his powerful body writhed and thrust.

I heard a man screaming--it was me.

Then Zack said, "God, I do love you Trent." And he came in me. In my ass...deep in my body. His sperm was like hot bullets shot into my spine and abdomen. I closed my eyes and took in every bit of him. I wanted to hold this moment forever, and I did.

Zack kept moaning and thrusting every few seconds for a couple of minutes. He was past the orgasm, and was just savoring the memory of it. I wouldn't have moved for anything. We laid there for a long time. I was on my stomach. Zack was still on me, just laying there with his cock in my ass. His cum was oozing out, running down my inner thighs and pooling under my body.

I was warm and spent. My entire body hurt and felt wonderful.

When Zack finally pulled out of me, it felt like part of my body had been ripped away. It made this cool, slippery gush sound.

He stumbled to a standing position. Took several great breaths, and did this "Tarzan" victory cry as he pounded his chest with his fists.

I rolled over and laughed. God, he was a beautiful sight. I stood up, a bit wobbly.

"Hello mister," Zack said to me. I reached out to him. We kissed, very deeply and very happily. He lifted me in his arms, right off the floor, and carried me away. I rested my head against his hot flesh. I'd NEVER been THIS happy in my entire life.

He stopped.

"Trent..." he said.

"Yes," I answered, kissing his neck and snuggling against him.

"I promised you a bath you'd never forget. Here it is...."

And he dumped me like a sack of potatoes into that tub of freezing mountain water.

Man did I scream. I floundered and shrieked and gurgled. And this time HE LAUGHED--AT ME. Then, in a flash, Zack was in the water too. He grabbed me, splashed and roared. Even he hadn't expected the water to be THAT cold. The tub overflowed again, wave after wave poured over the sides, and onto the floor as we splashed and struggle in the sweet freshness. I managed to pull his feet out from under him, and "Mr. Surprises" went down under like a water buffalo.

It was wonderful. All of it was wonderful. Even the cold water...was wonderful.

I grabbed that man, and I kissed him like a demon. In that moment, I knew I would love him always. I would make him happy as fucking hell, and he would never be alone again ...and neither would I.

[waffles7]

please make them get married nxt XD

[rawTOP]

Hey Waffles7... Welcome to Breeding Zone!

[xxww]

my god that story was hot

[dusti]

mmmmmmmmmmmm im a older guy and i loved it made me cummmmmmmmm and rember my first time