dreaming-of-bud
Copyright © 2004 by Jerry Leckie — You may download my writing for your own reading pleasure; however, you may not place my writing on a website or reproduce stories for distribution without my permission.
WARNING: **My short story fiction deals with very mature subjects and with explicit language, some of which is of a sexual nature. If viewing such material is illegal where you live or if viewing such material would be offensive to you, please click on the “BACK” button of your browser NOW to return to other sections of the Web.
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DREAMING OF BUD
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Hey Bud:
I’m writing this e-mail just to express my thoughts and feelings to you about how happy I am that we met in that chat room, and how happy I am about the hours we’ve spent getting to know each other. We’ve become great friends. To me, we’ve become more than friends. We’ve told each other things that we probably wouldn’t tell anyone else, even a priest. (Grin) Now, here’s another confession from me. I’ve fallen for you, and one day I’d like to meet you in person. (Our exchange of pictures just ain't enough anymore old buddy! Hee hee.)
I can visualize our first meeting.
I hope you like to cuddle Bud, because once I get you into bed, (after I slowly undress you) I would take you into my arms and kiss you lightly on the lips, then on each cheek, once on the tip of your nose, and finally your chin. Aw, to hell with this I-would-do-this-or-that-to-you stuff. Let’s bring this into the “now” because in my mind, I’m THERE with you, right NOW!
I gently pry your lips open with my tongue, and kiss you long and deep. You respond by returning my kiss and wrapping your arms tightly about me. Minutes later, as we relax after our one, long kiss, we begin to explore each other's bodies by gently, lovingly caressing each other, while trading many more kisses. At last, you begin to breath hard, your breath coming in ever-shorter gasps.
I pull away from your lips, look deeply into your eyes, and (with a smile on my lips) leave a trail of kisses down that soft, sexy part of your throat underneath your chin. You arch your head back in anticipation of more kisses, which I greedily take from that soft, sweet throat. While I begin another trail of kisses down from the hollow of your throat, you begin to stroke my back with the tips of your fingers.
As you release me to do so, my left hand steals down your side to your crotch, and, there I find your majestic dick waiting for me. But it is not just your dick I want; I want all of you (the real you) to hold, caress, and make love to. So, I leave your magnificent cock for later, and return to explore the rest of your body. My God! What a body! What a man!
And who knows better how to make love to a man than another man; who knows better what he needs, how he feels, how he needs to be loved? I know! And I proceed -- down, down your heaving chest to the set-pieces of your breast, your nipples. You have anticipated my progress, because they are standing erect, at attention, waiting for me. Oh, those glorious, sweet, sensitive symbols of your lovemaking! I know exactly how they will taste even though I have never tasted them before. I caress them with my tongue, nip them ever so slightly with my teeth, and you writhe with the sensations I am causing and clasp me to you in a harsh embrace. I return the strength of the embrace, because I too am filled with the lust of being so close to you, finally having you to love.
The moment is overwhelming! God, Bud, I must calm myself, and you. This time we have must last, because we may never make love like this again. I fill my lungs with air and hold it. I stroke your face, calming you, soothing you. That beautiful face, those beautiful lips, I kiss with all the tenderness of my being.
When you are once again calm, I gently remove myself from your loving embrace, and, almost reluctantly, move downward, toward the reward I have waited so long for. But no. Your gentle, loving hands cup my face to stop me, and you look into my eyes and smile. (I cannot bear it when you look at me like that.) And tears well in my eyes. I caress the back of your hand, which is still against my face, your thumb gently wiping away my tears. I turn and kiss the hand that ministers to me so sweetly. As a benediction to the moment, that sweet hand draws me to your lips for one last kiss before I continue my journey.
Free at last, I reposition myself on my knees, between your thighs, and pay homage to this symbol of your love. Grasping it reverently with both of my hands, I lean forward and kiss its tip, drinking in the scent of your manhood. I am overcome with the beauty of your being which is within this symbol. You lay still, like both a god to be worshiped and a sacrifice on the altar of love.
I kiss and lick your lovely shaft, and take its tip into my mouth and bathe it with my tongue, time and again. Finally you give up your offering to my mouth, with a great cry and thrust of your hips. I do not swallow. But lay down on you, full length, take you in my arms, kiss you, and return your offering to you with the kiss bearing my love. You enfold me in your arms as I lay my head on your shoulder.
“Good Morning.” I think I hear/feel the phrase. I rouse myself out of blissful sleep and realize with delight that you are still holding me. We are in bed, on our sides, and you are lying full length against my back. I try to wriggle even closer to you. (It's a useless move; you couldn't get a piece of paper between us.) My head is lying on one of your arms. I watch the outstretched hand as it comes closer; the fingers lightly pinch my nose. Your other arm is around my waist, and the hand attached to it begins to carefully ruffle the hair on my chest.
God, Bud, it's good to be close to you! I inhale deeply, drinking in your scent, committing it permanently to memory.
“Good Morning,” you say again. Ah, I did FEEL your voice, because your chin is resting against the back of my neck. I hear your voice close to my ear, and I feel your breath on my shoulder. Your hand brushes my nipples, and they instantly erect. My dick also instantly erects, but, as your arm tightens its grip around my waist, I feel that you are way ahead of me. Your dick, in all of its hard glory, tries to bury itself between my ass cheeks.
I start in panic. My God! Can I take that huge thing? I reach back to feel it. Jesus! It feels like steel. You release your firm hold on me, stroke my erection, and whisper soothing sounds in my ear. With your hand on my dick, I forget all fear. Your hips begin to undulate against my buttocks. You slide back the foreskin of my dick and I almost cum. (Remember, I didn't cum last night.) I shiver and stop your hand with both of mine, just in time!
Abandoning my dick you retake me in a vice-like grip and push forward, sending your spear between my cheeks. Your dick is wet with excitement, and its actions grease my rectum in preparation for what is about to happen. I reach back and guide you toward the target. Gently, ever so gently, you press onward, until the head is inside, just beyond the corona. You kiss the back of my ear, and I open like a flower. The rest of your dick slides in until your pubic hair tickles my butt.
Now the sensation of your fat dick stretching my sphincter sends my mind into a whirl. Yours too. We moan in unison. You drive back and forth, the loose skin on your shaft easing the friction. But the lining of my rectum is doing its number on the head of your dick. You begin to writhe in ecstasy.
As you drive back and forth, I realize that something is wrong. I am receiving almost no stimulation. Shit! Your shaft is so long that the head of your dick is way past my prostate gland. I explain how to correct the situation and you roll us on to our backs. I sit up and turn around facing you; the action sends your dick into spasms of delight. I draw my feet back until I am on my knees, astride your hips. I lean back, resting the palms of my hands on your knees. As I elevate my hips you begin a slow pumping action with yours. “YES, YES,” I cry. For in this position, the head of your hard dick digs into my prostate gland with every upward stroke.
Six strokes later I shout a warning cry, and with lightning speed you rush forward and embrace my hips, taking the head of my cock into your throat, just as I gush forth. You drink my cum with relish, swirling your tongue around the pulsing head of my dick. I am driven fucking wild because your tongue action is in perfect time to the throbbing action of my prostate gland. I scream and tug violently at your head. With a massive sigh, you release me and fall back on the pillow.
We smile at the sight of rivers of perspiration running down our bodies. I lean forward, being careful not to let your still rock-hard dick slip from me, and vacuum the perspiration from your chest with my tongue. We kiss gently, then you help me turn around. You wrap your arms around me and we roll over until you are lying on top of me, licking the sweat from the back of my neck and shoulders. Finished with this task, you nibble at my earlobe and stretch, languidly, as if you are trying to feel my entire body beneath you with every square inch of your body.
Satisfied that I am relaxed under you, you position my arms under yours, intertwine your fingers with mine, and rest your head on my shoulder. Then you begin to stroke with your dick. So slowly at first that I am not sure you are even moving. With maddeningly paced strokes, you begin to pick up speed. You drive deeper; deeper and deeper; faster and faster; now you are crushing my fingers in your grip. Both of our heads are thrown back, gasping for air, exhaling in loud groans. Faster and deeper you stroke; your hips are flying up and down like a machine. I begin to thrust up to meet you. The sweat pours from us once again. My thrusting is creating friction between the bed and my dick; I am steel hard again. As the minutes pass, both our passions begin to build until we both scream in release, falling in an exhausted heap on the bed.
When we recover our composure, we begin to giggle, playfully trying to lick the sweat off each other. We stop, smile, give each other an appraising look, and both agree on a joint shower.
Sigh. I wonder if I will have the guts to ever send you this e-mail.
The End.
Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this story (or not), tell me about it at jer@jerryleckie.com. I appreciate constructive criticism, and I ignore flames.
Please read more of my writing at http://www.jerryleckie.com. There, you will find stories that you will enjoy in a variety of categories: adult, celebrity, college, high school, incest, and bisexual.