1. What I Had Been Missing (Ch 2)


    Date: 2/1/2024, Categories: Gay Male, Author: Delbert6776 

    ... between his head and shoulder. I wound my legs around his waist in a missionary fashion. I began humping my pelvis upward, begging for an orgasm. I could feel his cockhead pressed firmly against my oily pucker.

Dirk shifted his head and panted into my left ear: “Do you want it?”

I knew what “it” was. My answer: “Yes, shit yes. Fuck me. Breed me!”

Dirk fisted his pipe; then teased and lubed my anus with his precum and massage oil. I felt a pressure.

I tried to relax my pelvic floor and sphincter, hoping to welcome his cock into my back door without excessive pain. To Dirk’s credit, he slowly and gently eased his seemingly oversized meat into my ass. There was a brief moment of pain as his flare maximally stretched my sphincter, then just a feeling of pressure as he laid his full seven inches of pipe.

Dirk raised up, his hands on the table. He asked, “You OK?”

“I’m better than OK. Fuck me. Fuck me silly.”

Dirk laughed and shook his head, but then became all business. He began pumping his cock in and out slowly. I did the best I could, keeping my legs wrapped around his waist; but as his ramming became ...
    ... more aggressive, they started to cramp. Dirk sensed this. He rose up on his knees and supported each of my flexed knees in the crook of his elbows.

This new position gave me the opportunity to work on my junk. I leaned up in a semi-crunch, constricting and tugging the base of my scrotum with my left hand and pounding the pork with the right.

I noticed a change in Dirk’s face. He began gritting his teeth. He blinked his eyes several times and dropped his chin toward his chest. He uttered, “Buddy, I’m gonna cum.”

Dirk slid his meat an inch or so backward; then tensed. With a grunted “Ugh”, he bucked his pelvis forward, breeding me with an espresso cup of frothy man juice.

His final pump must have struck my prostate; as I too ejaculated, sending a geyser of spew up my belly and into my navel.

Dirk collapsed onto my belly and chest. My exhausted legs flopped off the table. We didn’t speak. There seemed to be no need for conversation.

Maybe there will be a next time.

I took a peek at my Tag Heuer. Crap, boarding in fifteen minutes. I settled my tab and hightailed it over to Albert Whitted for my flight home.
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